Author's note: Thank you everyone for your reviews; I was encouraged by the responses!

Chapter 2

The second time I saw her, she was my captor.

My crew is left under guard in the Cargo Bay while I'm taken to the Brig, presumably so I can't lead my crew in some kind of ill-conceived escape attempt. A few hours later, as I sit in my cell, I feel the plasma storm-induced shudders of the ship finally fade away, and I hear the warp drive power up. We've left the Badlands. Soon we'll be turned over to the authorities on Earth.

The outside door slides open, and the security guard straightens up when Captain Janeway strides into the room.

"Sir," the guard says smartly.

"Mr. Durst, despite Starfleet protocol, I don't like being called sir," she says in a matter-of-fact tone. "You may call me captain." It sounds like a well-rehearsed line, one she's given to subordinates many times.

"Sorry… Captain," Durst says, trying to hide his surprise.

She moves on to me. I've gotten to my feet on the other side of the forcefield. Strange, she isn't a particularly tall woman - I have some inches on her - but somehow she manages to look larger than life. It must be the heeled Starfleet boots, I tell myself.

"How is my crew?" I demand before she can say anything.

She looks at me steadily for a moment.

"Fine, for the most part," she answers at last. "We've had some trouble with the young Klingon woman. B'Elanna Torres. She's been... combative with my crew."

I'm not surprised. "B'Elanna has a hot temper," I acknowledge, "but she cools quickly. Her bark is worse than her bite."

Why am I telling her this? I suppose I want to protect B'Elanna from any overreactions on the part of Janeway's security team, but already I've said more than I should, and I don't know why.

"And my ship?" I quickly ask to change the subject.

"The Val Jean?" Captain Janeway says. "Damaged, but it may be salvageable. We're towing it along." She glances briefly around my cell. "As captain, I consider it my duty to personally ensure that prisoners aboard my ship receive appropriate care. Do you have any complaints about your treatment?"

Other than being deprived of my freedom? "No."

She nods. "Good."

"But I would like to make a request."

She looks wary. "What is it?"

I take a deep breath. "Onboard my ship, in the captain's quarters, there's a bundle wrapped in animal skins. It contains items that are sacred to me. I'd like to have it back."

She's already shaking her head. "I can't let you have personal items in here. I'm sure you understand the reasons why. If you need something to occupy your time, you may have a Starfleet-issue PADD."

"There's nothing in my medicine bundle that could be used as a weapon, or a communication device," I say steadily. "Federation law requires that you make reasonable accommodations for a prisoner's spiritual beliefs."

Janeway is silent for a long moment. Finally, she says, "I'll see what I can do."

"Is that your way of saying no, Captain?" I shoot back.

Her lips pucker slightly, and displeasure flashes in her eyes. "That's my way of saying, 'I'll see what I can do,' Captain."

"-because I much prefer blunt honesty to smooth lies," I continue.

Wry amusement brings the pitch of her voice up a step. "You and my fiance, both." A look of surprise crosses her face, and I realize that she, too, has said more than she meant to.

I'm not sure why I'm surprised that she's engaged. A woman like that, with such a striking personality, considerable talents, and some beauty, wouldn't have trouble attracting a man. Eventually I realize that what surprises me is that she isn't already married.

She drops her small white hands back down to her sides, and puts the mask of professionalism back on. "We'll arrive at Earth in six days," she says in a brisk business-like tone. "Please be assured your crew will be treated well in the interim."

I can't stop myself from saying it. "Yes, I'm sure you've given my old friends Tuvok and Paris the finest quarters on the ship."

Belatedly I realize Paris is probably still on his back in Sickbay, judging by the severity of his burns, but I don't take my words back. Am I bitter? Yes, I suppose I am. I spent so much time being paranoid about the Cardassians, I forgot to be paranoid about my own crew. Humiliation tends to make me grouchy.

Janeway isn't amused by my sarcasm. "Tuvok and Paris are on my crew, not yours," she says, and there's a note in her voice I haven't heard before. I remember now one of the first things she said to me when Voyager first hailed the Val Jean: We both have crews to protect. Let's make the transfer peacefully. I realize this captain is unusually protective of her crew. Even possessive.

"And yes," she continues, "they'll both be rewarded for the considerable risks they undertook to bring you to justice."

"Bring me to justice?" I retort. "I joined the Maquis to deliver justice. Why must Starfleet stand in our way?"

"That wasn't your burden to carry," she says.

Fury bubbles to the surface. "Try telling me that after the Cardassians kill your father!"

"They did kill my father!" she snaps back.

I'm taken aback. I thought her naivety meant that the Cardassian war had not yet touched her personally. I guess I was wrong.

"My father was a Starfleet admiral who designed a prototype ship meant to counteract the Cardassian threat," she says, her voice steely. "He was killed when the ship crashed into Tau Ceti Prime."

"I'm sorry," I say.

"It was never proved, but it's my belief that a Cardassian agent managed to sabotage the ship," she says more quietly. "So don't bother preaching to me about justice. I'm still waiting for it. But there are more things at stake in this conflict than my personal feelings."

"I'm sorry," I say again, and I mean it. Even though she's my captor, I know she isn't my enemy. Not really.

Her eyes look old and tired. "So am I," she says.

Janeway turns to go, but before she reaches the door, I say, "There's no ring."

She turns back. "I beg your pardon?"

My curiosity has gotten the better of me. "You said you were engaged. But you're not wearing a ring."

She stares at me, appalled by my audacity. The guard - Durst - looks like he wants to come rattle the bars of my cage personally to avenge his captain's honor. There's a tense silence, in which I see the spark in her blue eyes darken and recede until she looks as grim as the first moment I saw her.

"As you were," she says, her voice dropping almost as deep as a man's, and then she strides out without a backward glance.

I sit back down on the hard bed and look up at the ceiling. I've been imprisoned a few times before. As far as captors go, Janeway's pretty memorable.

I have a feeling I'm not going to see my medicine bundle again.

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's note: This is the first time I've written a fanfic in first person. Do you think it works? I welcome any and all feedback!