Chapter 15

It felt a little odd to be sitting in the ready room like this, a guest, when it had been her sanctuary for so many years. She declined the cup of coffee that he offered her and felt the stirrings of a smirk at his surprise. She sat, legs crossed, in the chair in front of the desk, and when he lowered himself behind it, her head tilted. "Well… this is different." It had to be said, she supposed; as icebreakers went, with the silent tension that was between them on the way from engineering, it was honestly the best that she could do.

"That's generally what happens when an officer moves on to other things," he reminded her.

Kathryn's brow rose; her expression was one of curiosity rather than genuine astonishment. "Is that what you think I did? I just moved on to other things? You were there, Chakotay. I didn't exactly ask to be promoted. Looking back, I suppose that I was bound for a desk or a teaching position anyway, at least for a while. With everything that happened in this quadrant before we got home it wouldn't have made sense to put me in a corner and let me grow dusty, but at the same time, I can understand the hesitation at offering me another command." She shrugged at him. "I was out there too long, but it was a reward too."

"Yes, that's probably true." He shook his head at her. "What I haven't been able to figure out is why you've gone out of your way to avoid everything. This ship, our crew," he paused for a moment, watched the warring clouds of astonishment and confusion fill her eyes, "me." Not for the first time in the past few weeks he asked himself why it was that he and his ship had been relegated to patrols of the Neutral Zone, while Admiral Janeway was at the heart of the diplomatic mission to Romulus. He had trusted that she had her reasons, and he supposed that Riker was the more seasoned officer, but he couldn't possibly know her as well as they did. That was not at the heart of his concern now, however. The mission had changed, and with everything that happened, he was truly surprised that she had chosen Voyager, rather than Aegeus, to carry her to Beloren in search of Tuvok.

If she thought he was going to wait to start this conversation, she was obviously mistaken. It wasn't the time, and it certainly wasn't the place. "I know there are things that we need to talk about, but I hardly think we should do that now."

"When?" He leaned forward; his hands were clasped tightly atop the surface of the desk. "When is now actually going to happen, Kathryn? From where I'm sitting you've been putting that off for a long time. Maybe you should tell me what I did so I can decide if I need to apologize?"

So he could decide? The small box she had put her feelings into, all of the irritation, confusion, and quite frankly hurt, where Chakotay was concerned began to fall apart. It was like a puzzle box that had been dropped, or perhaps one that wasn't quite put together properly. Kathryn snorted a bitter laugh. It was brittle and cold, and weighted in the oozing darkness of her ire. "I don't think you want to hear what I have to say to you," she explained, and felt vindicated that he had not already figured it out. "At the risk of damaging a relationship that I hold in high regard and creating tension that would not be beneficial to our assignment, I think we should table it for now, Captain."

"What relationship?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He saw them land, watched her eyes widen, and saw the damage they inflicted. He expected her mask to fall into place and he was shocked when it didn't. More than that, he was ill prepared for the fury he saw reflected back at him. She had been angry with him before but that was always professional. This appeared to be wholly personal and Chakotay tried to think back over the last year, but could not recall a single moment that would explain to him what he'd done to earn the glare that she was casting in his direction now. He felt the stirrings of his own temper in response. He straightened and decided to stand behind his statement. "From where I'm sitting, Kathryn, it's hard to have a relationship with someone when you can't seem to deign to be in the same room with them, much less express more than a few words."

Kathryn shook her head at him. She had tried. She would remind herself of that later, when she was regretting this argument. "As I understand it, it's difficult to have a relationship when one party is occupied elsewhere." Her words were low, succinct, but her tone was clipped. "That is the relationship that you are referencing, is it not? I still think of you as my friend, my very dear friend, Chakotay, but that is all we are. Whatever opportunity there might have been for more was lost the moment you decided seek personal fulfillment aboard my ship." It sounded petty when she put voice to it, but that was not the only reason that she was angry with him. It went much deeper than that. Her disappointment was bitter, and she wished that she could see past it, but it had been a tight fist, squeezing at that place in her heart that was reserved just for him. Maybe she needed to say the words, she decided, so that she could finally put it behind her. "I never cared about the other women, those needs were human, and for the most part you were discreet. It was none of my business as long as you were careful and it did not endanger the ship, or the crew, and you aren't the only one of our crew who needed to resolve our more basic, human needs in that manner." They both knew that she had her own way of doing the same, it was nothing more than scratching an itch, and so she had ignored it.

It had no bearing on them.

Until it did. Until it changed. Until he made the one decision that she just could not ignore or support.

His eyes flashed darkly. For a moment Chakotay was utterly astonished. Then he felt the stirrings of his temper erupt into a full-blown storm of reciprocal anger. "You're jealous." The words tasted like acid in his mouth. He always expected better of her. Chakotay never imagined that he would find himself taken to task by a bitter, malevolent shrew, hell bent on denying him any corner of happiness that she did not personally approve of first. Had she honestly expected him to spend the rest of his life alone? Did she think he could live indefinitely off the crumbs she tossed his way in an effort to keep him loyal and his attention focused almost entirely upon her? "You're mad at me because I spent a few weeks dating someone else, a year ago, and that is why you've been avoiding me? You may be made of stone, Kathryn, but the rest of us mere mortals aren't." His words landed like blows, and he knew he might regret them later, but for the moment he was too embroiled in his own disappointment to hold back the rush of accusations that were probably always inevitable between them. "I get it, you're the perfect example of the Starfleet model officer, completely untainted by physical or emotional needs. Starfleet Command's golden girl, I'm sure your story will be told for generations to come. Cadets will read of your accomplishments and whisper in awed voices about the virgin heroine who accomplished what few others could. They'll tell of the brave woman, stranded a galaxy away, the Captain who was a queen in her own right, that defeated the Borg with a single ship and her own force of will. It's just too bad they won't know the real story," he spat at her, "that Starfleet's would-be Queen was carved out of granite and sacrificed her personal happiness and mine so that she could stand proud. It wouldn't have done for her to be sullied by something so basic, so beneath her as a sordid affair with her first officer. Tell me something, has your friend Jake figured out yet that you're so cold?"

For a moment she felt winded, as though he had physically struck her. His words cut her to the very center of her being, and she realized with a clarity that left her bereft that he had never seen her at all. Kathryn blinked at him. She felt the ache of something sharp and too painful at the back of her throat; she felt the heat of his words rush through her and it made her tremble with rage. At her sides her hands clenched into small fists and the press of her nails against the soft flesh of her palms was almost enough to ground her in the moment. "How dare you." She rose from the chair and moved away from him, needing that distance. She moved closer to the railing that separated the sitting area from the workstation. Her hand reached out blindly and she gripped it tightly. "I would have sacrificed myself a thousand times over if it meant getting them home, but I never once felt that I was the price of their return." She didn't shout. She didn't rail. He needed to hear what came next, and whether he understood it or not, Kathryn couldn't decide if she still cared. "My image was the furthest thing from my mind. For seven years the only thing I thought of in relation to myself was whether or not I would be able to garner the support of my peers, and those superiors I had known all my life, to guarantee the freedom of our Maquis crew, including you. I really couldn't care less what Starfleet thought of me, specifically, and the public can think what it wants, it always does. None of that ever mattered. Getting my crew home, safe, to their families and without lengthy jail sentences for those that were once considered criminals was my focus. That was my only focus. I couldn't afford to have it diverted and the few times I allowed it to be, they paid the price. If all I had wanted was an affair, Chakotay, you'd have been in my bed years ago, and we could have both taken what we wanted and I still would have gotten my crew home."

Kathryn shook her head at him. She turned away. She stared through the viewport at the stars. That sight was once a balm to her soul, a reminder of why she had left her home, why she sought something more than herself and what she could find with her feet planted firmly on the ground. It didn't calm her now, the ache went too deep; Kathryn drew a slow breath, she tried to settle her hurt and rage, but that was the problem with her deeper emotions. Once they were allowed free reign they were harder to suppress. She folded her arms across her chest and felt the ache of her tension move down her spine and settle in the stiff joint of her recovering shoulder. With that pain she was reminded of the things she actually had sacrificed for her crew. How many times had her body been broken and battered, bruised and bloodied, or even assimilated for the sake of being able to look up at the sky, the real sky, and see familiar constellations.

"It was never about sex," she said quietly, and her voice was laced with the disappointment that made her chest ache. "I thought you knew that. I wanted more for us. I've never been especially interested in casual relationships, although they've suited their purpose. When I give myself, I do it completely. I thought you understood that. I couldn't give myself to you while they needed me. I couldn't risk it. They deserved more and so did we." She looked back at him, over the curve of her shoulder, and her blue eyes glinted like steel. "I wanted more for us than a few stolen moments between emergencies, and I thought…" She stopped speaking and looked away again. Kathryn stared at the darkness beyond the viewport. She could see her own distorted image reflected back, and she wondered if that was how he saw her, too. Were their perceptions of her so completely incompatible that it had led to this moment? "After Venice," she said, "I thought you knew. You always seemed to know me better than anyone else, better than I knew myself sometimes, but maybe that was the illusion." The final betrayal of a quadrant that had been hell-bent on destroying them all. Maybe he had never known her at all. "Jake hasn't asked more of me than I've been willing to give," she added quietly, "and he did ask." It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that he hadn't exactly been idle these past weeks. Or was his flirtation with Captain Caldwell just that, a bit of passing fun to distract him?

His teeth ground together, and suddenly Chakotay realized he was angry with himself. With that realization came shame, so deep and biting that he could almost taste the bile of it. He lowered his gaze to the carpeted deck beneath their feet and felt his shoulders slump. "Was I supposed to wait forever?" The words were soft, almost whispered, and it was one final attempt at a defense that he didn't deserve. It was completely beneath him, and they both knew it.

"No," she replied, just as quietly. "If I thought you were genuinely trying to move on, I could have accepted it. It isn't that you chose someone else, Chakotay, there were plenty of women and men on Voyager that would have been glad of your attentions. No, it isn't that, and if you truly believe I am that petty, I will have to rethink every conversation we ever shared to find where I failed to reveal my true being. It's more troubling than moving on. It's the person you chose to move on with. There was only one other person on that ship that I could devote myself to, beyond duty, beyond responsibility, beyond the mission. If you had only been lonely, I could have forgiven that." She drew a breath and let it out slowly. She turned again. She needed to meet his gaze, and in his shame, she saw his understanding. That only drove the blade of disappointment deeper. He had known what he was doing. "What I've had trouble forgiving is that you used her to hurt me. The stars only know that you and I have hurt each other any number of times over the years, so if you were just striking out, I might have found my way toward forgiveness by now. The thing that I am having difficulty accepting is your choice of weapon. Worse than that, Seven knows that you used her to hurt me. She trusted you. She trusted you because I trusted you. She chose you because for all her naiveté she understood that there was something in you that must be special because I thought that you were special. What she couldn't know, what she was too young and too inexperienced to understand were all the reasons for why you were available to be chosen. Congratulations, Chakotay, she knows now. You taught her more and faster than I ever could. Tell me, who was the real scorpion in that story?"

His eyes widened. Stricken, he shook his head. "Kathryn, that was not—" Being with Seven was never specifically about hurting her, even if a quiet voice had whispered in his head at the time, wondered at what she might think when she finally learned of it, and if she might finally feel something.

She held up her hand, silencing him. There was a part of her that was still trying to forgive him, and if she heard his denials, she knew it would never be possible. Kathryn shrugged at him. Tears glistened in her eyes but she refused to allow them to fall. When she finally spoke again, her voice was low, rasping like velvet that had been stretched too tightly against leather. "Maybe I'm just as much to blame. I put her in your path. I needed something," she sighed, "something to remind me that I was still human, that for all the darkness, and for every hard choice, and every decision that had to be mine, there was still a part of me that could be redeemed at the end. That when we got home, there would be enough of me left that would be human, that I was not merely just another extension of Voyager. I had to give the crew everything, all of me except that one part that I locked away for you, and the pieces I gave to Seven, because if I could teach her to be human again, the hope..." She stopped when her voice hitched. Her jaw clenched. Kathryn tilted her chin at him, stubbornly, almost defiantly. "The hope we were supposed to share wouldn't die. But in the end, I guess not never was just too much to hope for after all."

He felt her words sear right through him. In the end, he supposed that no one would ever be able to hurt either of them the way they were able to hurt each other. The muscles of his neck worked. He felt the ache of his shame in his throat, felt the burn of it in his gut. He could say that she was wrong, that he hadn't really considered becoming romantically involved with Seven as having anything at all to do with Kathryn, but when he looked at his motivation through the lens she handed him, Chakotay realized the truth of her words. Yes, when Seven had approached him he was flattered, and he was lonely, but that was as far as it should have gone. That it had not stopped there was something that he regretted. He never lied to Seven, and he wasn't leading her on. Whatever else Kathryn might believe, he was not that malicious, but his intent was not completely pure, and in that way he had used her.

"I started to resent you," he admitted, and was further surprised that thoughts he tried so long to repress had found purchase in an argument that was probably a long time in coming. Chakotay saw his surprise reflected back at him in her eyes, and when her mouth opened to utter some response, he shook his head. "Not because we decided to wait," he explained, "because the longer we took to get home, the more of you I lost. The woman I came to know that first year out there, the flawed and capable, intelligent creature that I fell in love with would never have threatened Noah Lessing the way you did. She wouldn't have let the Devore Inspector," even now he wouldn't speak his name, "believe that she would barter herself in exchange for her crew." She had played the long game with that one, and she had won. She would never have allowed it to go that far, Chakotay knew, but he hated that the idea had crossed her mind, and that she had played her part so well that the Inspector had believed it. "Every year you buried yourself a little deeper in the mission, and it became a little harder to hope for anything when the woman I was waiting for didn't seem to exist anymore."

A single tear managed to escape her resolve and slid slowly down the pale curve of her cheek. "If I hadn't hidden her away," Kathryn said quietly, "she wouldn't be standing in front of you now." She turned and let her gaze sweep over the interior of the ready room again. How often had she come here to escape? To hide from him, the crew, or even the bitterness that was beginning to seep into her own soul with each passing year that they were lost. Kathryn moved up the steps and lowered herself onto the sofa. She sat at its center, where she had so many times before, and crossed her legs. She folded her hands in her lap and studied them. "The Admiral told me that in the other timeline you married Seven." She had never revealed that before, not even to her counselors. "I don't know if it's true, she certainly knew how to manipulate all of us." She felt him move. It was a shift in the air, and the shadow of his body passing through the overhead lights as he moved to take the chair on her left, just as he always had. He was close, but there was still more than an arm's length between them. "I think in the end I allowed her to convince me because more than the horror stories she used, it was her very presence that frightened me. She had achieved her goal, but she was hard, harder than I ever imagined that I could be. I know I'm not her, I know we've changed that timeline, but something that you said earlier…" Kathryn looked at him, and sadness had replaced the anger from earlier. "She was carved from granite. Sharp and unyielding. I can't imagine any timeline where you would make that commitment to someone you didn't truly care for. The part that is so hard to understand is how it came to that at all. She's too young, Chakotay. She's barely lived."

He didn't want to hurt her anymore than he already had, but Chakotay sighed quietly. There were words she needed to hear, and it had always been to him to speak them, even when she didn't want him to. "You are not her mother, Kathryn. Seven made the decision to seek an adult, romantic relationship. I understand that you feel responsible for her, but her personal decisions are not yours to approve of."

"Does that make you feel better?" Annoyance flashed in her eyes. "Was that how you justified it to yourself?" Her gaze returned to her hands. "I don't want to fight with you anymore, Chakotay. I didn't want to fight at all. I'm tired of fighting." She had seven years worth of that, and now that they were home, all she wanted was to live. "I had hoped to avoid this argument completely." She had hoped that by the time they spoke of these things that she would have forgiven him, that her anger would be a memory, and their friendship would remain intact.

"So where does that leave us?" He didn't want to ask it, but it seemed that they were always going to have some sort of strife between them. There was a distance between them, a chasm of their own making. He looked at her, studied her profile, and ached for the opportunities that they had missed.

"I don't know." She lifted her gaze to study the room again. "I think we've said all that we can for now." To punctuate that point, Kathryn unfolded her legs and rose. When she looked down at him there was a sad light in her eyes, and a resigned twist to her mouth. "I am sorry if you felt that I had abandoned you, that was not my intention. Self-preservation is a biological imperative and I will not apologize for that. The Delta Quadrant was difficult for all of us, but I am not going to live the life I have now in the shadow of the decisions I made to get us home, or the mistakes I might have made along the way. I've never professed to have a yen for perfection, so I'm sure there were many beyond the most glaring. I want to think that, in time, we can be friends again, but I can't offer you absolution right now, Chakotay, and I'm not going to ask you for it either. There is a part of me that is always going to care very deeply for you, but right now I find that I just don't like you very much." She saw him wince, and felt the sting of those words add to the pain she was already feeling. It was hard to say, but she wasn't residing in a cage any longer. She was free, and she was not going to give up this wholeness again. She had given Voyager seven years of her life, and while she missed her ship, and she missed her crew, this was her time, and she was embracing it. "I hope you can respect the distance that I think we both need right now, at least on a personal level. I don't want to discuss my relationship with Jake with you, not right now. Just as I'm sure you don't want to talk to me about Eva Caldwell. We've both moved on Chakotay, or at least we should. I think we have to, it's the only way we're ever going to be able to truly leave the Delta Quadrant behind us."

He stared at the coffee table. He wasn't able to look at her. "I thought it would be me," he admitted. When he finally lifted his gaze, he knew that the pain he saw in her gaze was mirrored in his own. "When I thought about getting home, when I saw a life after the hell we went through to get here, I thought it would be me."

Her eyes glistened. "So did I."

The ship jolted beneath their feet before any more could be said. They were both tossed. Kathryn felt herself reaching for the railing out of instinct. Another jolt shook the ship before she could fully right herself. As she reached for her combadge the lights dimmed and Paris's voice sounded through the comm.

"Red alert. Captain to the bridge."

They shared a look. It lasted the space of a single heartbeat before Chakotay rose and strode toward the door. He felt Kathryn on his heels, and as he met his first officer's gaze he hoped he'd pushed the emotions of their conversation far enough aside that Tom wouldn't be able to guess at the content. "Report. What the hell is going on?"

"Four Romulan warbirds just dropped out of warp on our position, Captain. They're firing on the fleet." Tom moved from the center seat to reclaim his own and turned the tactical display toward him.

"Commander Donatra?" Kathryn turned where she stood, a hand on the rail to keep herself steady, and looked to Harry for answers.

"No, Admiral." He glanced at her and then the Captain. "The Valdore is not with this fleet. The Commander and her ships weren't due to meet with Titan for another half hour."

"Hail them," The Admiral instructed.

Harry shook his head. "No response."

"Open a channel to the fleet." She waited for him to acknowledge that it was done. "This is Admiral Janeway, evasive maneuvers, return fire if you have to."

"Titan to Voyager," Captain Riker's voice filled the bridge. "Commander Donatra's fleet will be here in fifteen minutes. These ships are loyal to Proconsul Tomalak."

"Understood, Captain." They had no reason not to believe any of the intel they'd received from the Commander, and past encounters with Tomalak had laid the foundation for believing he would be behind this attack. "Let's hold them off, get back to Federation space if we can."

"See you on the other side. Titan out."

As one Captain and Commander stepped into action. "Helm, bring us around, evasive pattern Delta-sigma-121."

Tom strode toward the conn, while Chakotay moved to take the command chair. He turned the tactical console toward him. "Lieutenant Kim, I want suppression fire along the starboard warbird. Odyssey is taking damage. Let's provide some cover."

The ship turned further into the battle. It lurched again as they took disruptor fire from the warbirds that were focusing on the other ship. Kathryn held on to the rail as she stood to the right of the bridge, just in front of the tactical station. Every instinct inside of her was yearning for her to step forward, to take command. It felt oddly wrong, and so very disconcerting, to just stand there.

The ghosts of a hundred other battles, dozens of other situations haunted her and she clenched her jaw tightly closed while she reminded herself that it was no longer her bridge. Even as Voyage shuddered and the deck plating creaked, she forced herself to remain where she was, rooted to that spot.

She considered moving to the engineering station. From there she would be able to call up the tactical readings and at least she could follow the battle. As Kathryn moved to do just that a relay near the conn blew. She saw Tom duck away, years of experience had warned him of the coming blast. He reached for the Lieutenant at helm but the officer was tossed backward before he could be spared.

While Chakotay was asking for a status report, Kathryn knelt beside the fallen officer. Her fingers moved to his neck, but the front of his uniform was charred and a piece of shrapnel was lodged in his neck. She looked up and found Chakotay's gaze focused on her. "He's dead."

"Forward shields are at forty percent," Harry reported.

"We're taking a beating from those disruptors." Tom pulled himself back up. "I'm missing that armor right about now." Starfleet had taken it, and the transphasic torpedoes during the refit several months ago. While they'd kept many of the upgrades made by the crew while in the Delta Quadrant, those two items had fallen under the purview of the temporal prime directive.

He wasn't the only one missing them. Chakotay stared at Kathryn. She was still kneeling beside the fallen helm officer. Things would be a lot simpler if they could do this their way instead of folding their instincts into a square shaped Starfleet mold.

Her head tilted. She read a question in his eyes. They were going to lose. With Aegeus already gone they were seven ships against a fleet of four, but the only rules the Romulans were following involved annihilation. Kathryn stood up slowly. How often had they learned that sometimes the only way to survive was to punch their way through?

She and Chakotay both moved at the same time. "Tom," Kathryn waved him toward the conn. "Take the helm. Let's show them how we dealt with bullies in the Delta Quadrant."

"Yes ma'am." The first officer moved easily into position. As his fingers moved over the controls he felt an odd sensation flow through him. It was a bit like being home again.

"Harry," Chakotay returned his attention to his tactical display on his command console. "Pull everything you've got from auxiliary systems for the forward shields."

"We're going to make ourselves a smaller target," the Admiral kept saying, "turn us to port. I want their blasts to glance off our shields. If anything gets through, it will hit non-critical systems."

"Full spread, Lieutenant. Target their disruptor banks and shield generators," the Captain ordered.

The warbirds were not going to be easily defeated. Odyssey had managed to regroup from those first, unexpected blasts, and started firing back but the Romulans had come prepared to fight Starfleet ships. "Roll us into it, Tom," Kathryn gripped the back of his chair, and it seemed it had taken only a few minutes for her battle legs to return as she leaned in to each lurching shudder the ship gave in response to the barrage.

"Engineering to Bridge," B'Elanna's terse voice sounded above the din of battle. "That last blast took out a plasma relay. The injectors are at critical and they're targeting our deuterium tanks. If those blow, we're done. We've got injured down here, I could use a hand."

Chakotay turned where he stood to send the officer at Operations to assist, but the Admiral shook her head before he could. She didn't know the young woman standing at Harry's old station, and while she was certain the officer was capable, the Ensign couldn't possibly know Voyager as well as she did. For that matter, it wouldn't be the first time Kathryn had left the bridge to assist the Chief Engineer. "I'll go."

The Captain followed her progress to the lift from his position at the center of the bridge. "Admiral?"

Kathryn read the question in his gaze. The circumstances in which she had ever expected him to take command during a battle were rare. She stepped back into the lift but her words echoed quietly behind her. "It's not my ship anymore."

For the space of a single breath the activity on the bridge stopped. Chakotay met Harry's gaze at tactical, and then turned to find Tom looking back at him from the helm. His XO nodded once before his attention shifted back to the conn. "Coming about," Tom reported, "heading 1-9-6-mark-4."

It would turn the ship aft of the warbird and give them another pass at the other ship's shield generators before they rolled out of the way while Odyssey moved into position to provide the next round. "Fire, Harry."

"Firing!"

"Captain, two more warbirds just de-cloaked three hundred kilometers to starboard. They're opening fire on Titan. Her shields are at 62 percent and falling," Ensign Markham reported. "She isn't going to last long against two of them."

"Status of the rest of the fleet?" They had their hands full at the moment, as the saying went, but by his count that was six warbirds against the remaining fleet of seven, but the Grphyon and Jamestown were smaller support vessels; they had been built for exploration and aid, they wouldn't hold up well in that kind of fight.

"Hamilton is holding its own," he reported, "and Cerberus has moved in to provide cover for Jamestown and Gryphon."

"Status of Commander Donatra's fleet?" Chakotay asked.

"Still ten minutes out," Harry told him.

"This will be over by then," Chakotay said grimly. "Hail Odyssey, inform Captain Udora we're ending this. Tom, bring us about," the Captain's fingers moved over his center console, "heading 1-8-2-mark-5, roll us under the beast's belly. Harry, full torpedo spread."

The two officers acknowledged the order and Voyager arced gracefully through space, moving easily to fire the more damaging blows. As they turned out, preparing to make another pass, Odyssey moved into position to continue the barrage. The other ship targeted the warbird's disruptors while Voyager focused on its shields. It took three of the coordinated passes before they disabled the warbird's shields, and another before the ship drifted away, weapons disabled.

"Captain," Markham drew his attention again. "Cerberus has taken a hit to its port nacelle. They're venting plasma."

"Commander," Chakotay nodded to the helm, "Turn us about and put us between—"

"Aegeus to Voyager," the ship's comlink came to life as the other ship dropped out of warp. "We have them, Captain. Can you cover Gryphon and Jamestown while they move out of range?"

Chakotay nodded to Tom, and gestured at Harry to return the hail. "We're on it, Captain. Weren't you headed to Starbase?"

"I guess I forgot to stop and ask for directions," Jake replied. "Must be a family trait."

"I had a feeling it would end up my fault we were lost in the end," Tom quipped. "Coming about, Captain, I'm putting us between our ships and the fight."

While the two smaller ships moved out of range and headed back toward Federation space, Voyager and Odyssey moved into position to keep any of the warbirds from giving chase. The battle continued, a swarm of action, blasts of brilliant red and sickly green as the ships fired on one another. When Hamilton began to take heavy damage, shields failing rapidly, and Titan's hull began to light up, showing breeches along its forward section, it looked as though the Starfleet ships had been cleverly outgunned.

The ships regrouped, pulling into a tighter formation, and Voyager took several hard blasts as it turned to provide additional protection for the damaged fleet-mates. It was then that three additional ships de-cloaked near their position. Initial concern faded to relief as the Valdore and her sister ships flanked the battle and began drawing fire. Two other vessels dropped out of warp near the melee, small attack cruisers operated by Reman crews who had joined the Commander's fleet in response to the attacks on their Elders.

"One of the warbirds has been destroyed," Harry reported, "another is disabled. The others are breaking off. They're retreating, Captain."

"Status report," Chakotay called.

"Our shields are holding at forty-three percent," Harry reported.

"We took some damage to the deflector," Markham told him, "that's going to be the best we can do until it's repaired."

"Warp engine is offline," Paris replied, "our engines took a beating. We've also got a hull breach on deck eight, force fields are holding. Medical crews are being dispatched, in addition to Lieutenant Bieh, we lost two people in engineering when the relays blew, and we've got injured throughout the ship, nothing critical."

The Captain nodded, and anticipating the order that would come from Titan, he glanced at Lieutenant Kim, "send our status to Titan and check on the other ships, lets make sure no one needs assistance… then hopefully we can get the hell out of Romulan space before that fleet comes back with anymore ships."

"Yes sir," Harry nodded, and began coding the transmission for the taskforce flagship.

"Chakotay to engineering. Torres, I really don't want to have to make a run for it at impulse if we can avoid it."

"I understand that, Captain," B'Elanna sounded resigned to the miracle he would expect her teams to work in a short amount of time, "but if I don't get this damage under control, you'll be lucky to get maneuvering thrusters."

"What about shields? If we get any more company—"

"I'm working on that, Captain," the Admiral replied for her. "I'm headed to deflector control with a team now. If you can keep us out of trouble for a little while, we might be able to do more than just plugging holes."

Chakotay suppressed the urge to smirk at the underlying request that he leave them alone while they did their jobs. He shook his head; crawling around in deflector control wasn't exactly an Admiral's job, but he supposed he shouldn't have expected anything else. "Understood, Admiral. Bridge out." He met Tom's gaze at the front of the bridge. "I guess we have our orders, Commander." The bridge grew silent, however, when the medical team arrived to remove Lieutenant Bieh. Chakotay watched them go and felt his jaw clench. Being back in the Alpha Quadrant had not made their jobs any safer it seemed.

"Do you think they teach a secret class at the Academy," Tom asked, needing to cut through the grim silence for the younger members of their crew, "where engineers are taught how to order everyone on the ship around without actually being in command, even Vice Admirals?" He moved aside as the beta shift helm officer arrived to take over.

"Maybe you should ask your cousin," Harry suggested. "Wasn't Captain Paris an engineer before he moved up the command track?"

"It explains so much," Tom replied. As he reclaimed his command seat to the left of the captain, he caught Chakotay growing stiff out of the corner of his eye. His frown had darkened at the mention of the other Captain. Tom resisted the need to roll his eyes. He recognized jealousy when he saw it, and knew exactly where it must be aimed. He was surprised to learn they hadn't gotten as far past that as he thought they had, and wondered if the shadows of the Delta Quadrant and missed opportunities would always linger.

"Captain," Harry's voice cut through the bridge again. "The Valdore is hailing. They have a message for the Admiral." He frowned at his console. "They say that Commander Tuvok is on board…"

-TBC-

Notes: I think this argument was a long time in the making, especially after reading Isabo's Shirt. Whatever the two of them are to become in their post-Voyager world, friends or lovers, or something else... I truly feel they had to confront what happened in the DQ. The argument in this chapter is also the scene that kate04 contributed with her brilliant idea that all the emotions and the angst finally come to a head between them. After she told me how she saw it, I put it to words, and then we both sobbed and railed, and shook our fists at the unfairness of it all. I also listen to a lot of music when I'm writing, or when I'm bouncing an idea around in my head. For this chapter it was Shinedown's For My Sake.