I sleep terribly. It seems like every time I drift off, Cardassians show up, or screams echo through my mind. I lose count of how often I've woken up before I finally doze off into a light sleep. I'm awoken by some kind of buzz. For the first second or two, I just stare up at the ceiling, completely disoriented. I don't remember what I was dreaming about, but it was nothing like the room I find myself in. It takes forever for the memories from yesterday to flood back and when they do I kind of wish they hadn't. I wish yesterday was the nightmare, not the reality.

The buzz sounds again. And then once more a few seconds later. Only when someone starts knocking on the door do I realize the buzz is a door chime. I slip out of bed and check my hair and my dress – which, not wanting to root around Mora's clothes in her absence, I slept in - but I don't look too dishevelled. In another second, I've crossed to the door and found the release button. I hesitate another moment, unsure whether I want to let in whatever Maquis is on the other side. Then the buzzer sounds again and I give in. The door whooshes open to reveal Chakotay. He looks relaxed and friendly, not a hint of the anguish I saw last night. He shoots me a grin and announces that he's here to get me some food, as ordered by Mora. I try to beg off, not feeling at all ready to face another meal like yesterday's. My stomach heaves just at the thought. Chakotay insists that I come with him however, teasing and cajoling until I have no choice but to grin and follow him to the mess hall.

Again, there's a big pot of something closely resembling sludge. The consistency is about the same as yesterday's meal, but the colour is closer to beige and there are no strangely coloured chunks. I manage to pretend it's oatmeal and eat most of it. It helps that Chakotay has found something vaguely coffee-like to go with it. Our meal is mostly silent, though I'm aware that that's mostly due to me. Chakotay tries to engage me in conversation a few times, but I'm too tired to come up with more than two-syllable answers. When that doesn't work he tries to draw me out with a funny anecdote about the food. I try to be nice and respond, but I'm still feeling sluggish and far away. Like the nightmares haven't quite let me go. Even the coffee substitute can't jolt me into wakefulness. I suspect there's no caffeine in it, though the taste is reasonable.

When I'm done eating, Chakotay whisks away the bowl and comes back with two more cups of java. He puts one down next to me and sits back down with the other. I exchange my empty cup for the full one and take a sip. I'm aware of his small smile at this. He too takes a sip and then he just stares at me, without saying anything. I try to ignore it, but his gaze is heavy. Even so, I stall as long as I can, before taking another fortifying sip and looking him straight in the eye. He doesn't look away quickly, as if caught, as I half hoped he might. Instead, he gives me another smile.

'So, what do you want to do today?' he asks, in a light, even tone of voice. As if it's any normal day. I guess for him it is. 'Want to visit your father?'

My breath catches. 'Is there a change? Is he awake?'

'No, I just thought you might like to see him.' The disappointment that washes through me catches me off guard.

Before I really know what I'm doing, I snap at him angrily, 'I don't need a babysitter! Why don't you just leave me alone!'

His eyebrows snap up in surprise and I'm instantly mortified. I can't alienate this man, or any other Maquis, not until I've gotten myself and the Captain safely out of this. I drop my head into my hand, hiding my face from view as I try to calm down and get my act together. I take a deep breath and feel my tension rush out with it. When I think I've got myself under control again, I look back at Chakotay. 'I'm sorry,' I say, sincerely. 'I slept terribly and this is all rather overwhelming. I never expected to find myself here.'

I'm relieved to see him smile back at me. 'Don't worry,' he says, 'I know how you feel. This isn't quite how I expected my life to turn out either.' We share a slightly self-conscious laugh. 'Besides, you're right. We don't really want the… refugees to roam all over the ship. But Mora refused to let you go back to the cargo hold, so I kind of volunteered to be your chaperon.' His eyes twinkle merrily on the last word and I know he's baiting me, to distract me from what he's really saying. I decide to play along. It's not an ideal situation, but at least I get to look around and don't have to go back to that mattress-strewn room. Besides, Chakotay seems relatively easy-going so far, so I might be able to work around him.

'So I guess I won't be alone with a man until I'm properly married?' I tease back. His grin deepens at my joke, revealing his dimples.

'Not on my watch! So, where to? Sickbay?'

I consider for a moment. I probably should go see the Captain – wouldn't a loving daughter want to? – but I'm still uneasy about the Betazoid. And they'd probably expect me to talk to him, isn't that supposed to help comatose people? I don't know what I would say. Looking up at Chakotay's understanding eyes, I decide to stick close to the truth.

'Is that Betazoid doctor there? I've never seen a real Betazoid before and she kind of scares me. Is it true they can read your thoughts?'

Chakotay shrugs. 'I don't think so, but I've never spend a lot of time with her, so I don't really know. You should ask Mora. But if you don't want to go to sickbay, perhaps you can help me with my work? Do you know anything about ships' systems?'

I hesitate for a moment, wondering what's a safe answer. But it seems best to stick to the truth as much as possible. Besides, getting my hands on the systems could prove invaluable. I might even be able to send a distress call to Starfleet, if I'm careful not to get caught. So, I give Chakotay a brilliant smile and answer in the affirmative. 'I practically grew up on starships!'

Chakotay smiles back easily. 'Wonderful. The Spartacus took quite some damage breaking you all out and-' He stops when he sees my incredulous expression.

'The Spartacus,' I repeat, unable to keep the note of mockery out of my voice. Luckily, this only seems to amuse Chakotay.

'He was a famous rebel from ancient Rome. A slave, who rose up against his masters. Seemed appropriate,' he explains.

'And he lost,' I deadpan. 'If I remember correctly, he and his entire army were crucified, the line of crosses stretching for miles along the Roman roads to deter anyone from following in his footsteps. How much of an example do you want to make of this man?'

Chakotay's expression abruptly goes from humorous to serious. 'If we lose, the Cardassians might do worse.'

My breath catches at his heavy tone. It's clear that he believes what he's saying. The thought gives me the chills, yet fills me with relief at the same time. I escaped. Chakotay helped me escape from the ruthless people he is talking about. But not before they harmed the Captain. What did they do to him? And, I wonder, looking back at Chakotay, what would make someone decide to take up arms against them regardless of the risks? I rarely find myself speechless, but now I genuinely don't know what to say.

Once again, Chakotay comes to my rescue. 'So, we better make sure our shields are working at peak efficiency, don't we?'

I manage a nod, and follow him to Engineering.

XXX

A few hours later, we've been relegated to a remote corner of the ship, indeed working on fixing one of the shield emitters. The shields - like the rest of the ship - seem rather old and have clearly seen better days, but at least the basic principles are the same as what I've learned at the Academy. Between the Academy and my father's work, I've seen my fair share of starships. Though this one isn't Starfleet, it's clearly built according to the same basic design. Beyond the rudimentary, however, the ship is a collection of outdated components, haphazard patching and insane wiring. Even so, I could probably fix it on my own. I don't want to seem too knowledgeable though, so I let Chakotay take the lead. I make a mental note to concoct a story of growing up on cargo ships with my father. For now, I do my best to learn as much as I can about the ship and about Chakotay. Know your enemy, as they say.

The second objective, however, turns out to be more difficult than I anticipated. As easy-going as Chakotay appears, he doesn't divulge a lot of personal information. In part, this seems to be because he's a rather mediocre engineer who needs to keep most of his attention on the repairs. But I suspect it's also personal. I notice that by using some of the interview techniques I learned in a short command-track course I took to please my father, I can get him to tell me quite a bit of useful information about the ship and the Maquis in general. But asking open questions and waiting for him to fill in the silences doesn't work when I bring the topic round to Chakotay himself. I suspect, based on the encounter we had last night, that his history is too painful for him to dredge up. I decide not to push. For one thing, I don't want to give him leave to ask about my past. We continue working in mostly companionable silence.

XXX

'So, that ought to do it,' Chakotay finally says as he reattaches the last panel. He drags one hand through his hair, making his appearance just a tad more dishevelled. After I don't know how many hours crawling through the bowels of the ship to work on the shields, I'm feeling rather scruffy myself. Thankfully, that was the last shield emitter in our sector, so we pack up and begin to walk back to Engineering to hand in our kits.

'Well, Kate, you make quite a good engineer. Where did you learn so much about shield harmonics?'

Apparently I wasn't quite as successful at downplaying my scientific credentials as I'd hoped. Good thing I've had a few hours to work on my story. 'When you spend your childhood on one freighter or another, you pick up a thing or two,' I say. I think I've hit just the right tone between nonchalant and factual.

'Sounds exciting. What was your parents' position aboard?'

'My father's an engineer,' I reply, truthfully, 'Though he tried to keep me out of the engine room as much as possible. He thought I should know the theory before getting my hands dirty. I think he was just afraid I'd get hurt. The replicator and I never quite saw eye to eye, he probably took that as an indication of my engineering talent. Turns out, I just can't cook!'

Chakotay chuckled appreciatively. 'Too bad, we could do with a good cook around here.'

'So I've noticed,' I can't help but reply wryly. So far the food is on the wrong side of edible.

'Speaking of food, want to grab some after we're done?'

I can't repress a grimace at the thought of the last meal. Thankfully, Chakotay guessed the target of my distaste and doesn't take offence. 'I'd like that', I said after a moment, with only a hint of sarcasm, thinking I'd rather not face dinnertime - both the food and the people - alone. 'But I'd like to clean up first, if you don't mind.'

'I wouldn't mind a quick shower, either. How about I pick you up at Mora's place afterwards?'

'Sounds perfect!'

XXX

When I let myself into Mora's quarters, I'm surprised to find her there, fast asleep. I forgot that we are on different shifts. Our workday is her night. She'll probably have to get up before too long. Though shift change doesn't seem as regulated in the Maquis, so I'm not quite sure when hers starts. I decide not to wake her and quickly tiptoe through the room to the shower. She's still asleep when I get back, feeling delightfully refreshed. I really should take more water showers when I get back, a sonic shower just doesn't have the same effect.

I'm just about to leave when the buzzer sounds. I run the last few steps to the door, opening it quickly before Chakotay can ring again. But as I look back, I can see I am too late. Mora is already sitting up, with an expression I recognize from my roommate aboard the Al-Batani. I secretly nicknamed it the 'at attention' look. There's no way Mora is going back to sleep after that.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you,' I say as I take a few steps back towards her. But she's already waving away my apologies, before diving into her closet.

'Don't worry about it, I have to be in sickbay soon anyway,' she says while tossing aside one shirt after another. She holds one up, 'what do you think of this one?' but has discarded it before I've gotten a word out. I shake my head, amused despite myself, and see Chakotay smirk out of the corner of my eye.

'Chakotay and I were about to get something to eat. Why don't you meet us there?'

'Good idea! I'll be there in five minutes!' I wave in acknowledgement before leaving the room, though I'm fairly certain she won't see it. Though I ignore Chakotay's comically raised eyebrow, all the years of living with Phoebe have taught me not to believe her estimation. And indeed almost twenty minutes pass before Mora joins Chakotay and me at our table. When she does, I complement her on her shirt, even though to me it looks exactly like the one she earlier held up for my inspection. The beaming smile she gives me in return shows me it was the right thing to say. Who would have guessed that growing up with Phoebe would prepare me for cohabitating with Maquis?