Enemy of My Enemy -
Judas Kiss

"What's your status Harry?" asked Chakotay.

"Damage on multiple decks, some casualties, no internal sensors, limited power..." rattled off Harry.

Chakotay nodded acknowledgement.

"I'll send over a team to help with the cleanup."

*****

Chakotay accompanied his team. Fides was in very good shape but Voyager was not going anywhere soon. He jogged down the corridor towards engineering.

It didn't take him very long to feel like he was not only out of his element, but most likely in the way. Carey and his team were running this way and that, patching here, adjusting there. Torres was right in there; this was her love. Chakotay hovered near the edges, torn between trying to help here and finding some place where he'd be more useful.

"Janeway to Commander Chakotay."

He hit his badge.

"Chakotay here."

"You might want to go to sickbay, Commander. Some of your crew were injured."

Chakotay was already out the door and heading for a turbolift with her words.

"Do you know ... ?" The question was left hanging.

"I don't have a report from the Doctor yet. But Seska... "

Seska! Chakotay felt his heart leap into his throat. He'd forgotten she was over here today. He pounded on the wall of the lift, impatience spilling forth.

Chakotay practically ran into the sickbay. The room was crowded and noisy. He could hear the Doctor yelling orders at Kes and an unwitting Gerron, who'd pulled medic duty. Chakotay turned around in circles scanning the patients, assessing the seriousness of injury.

"Chakotay!"

He whirled to see Seska sitting in a chair on the far side of the room. In two strides he was over to her.

"Are you alright? What happened? Who else is here?" He crouched down to see her at eye level, placing his hands on her shoulders, and looking her up and down.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I fell and broke my wrist, but it's ok now," she reassured him. "It looks worse than it is really. It's just minor injuries, but a lot of them."

Chakotay twisted around to survey the room again. She was right. Even though the sickbay was crowded, almost everyone appeared to be still mobile. He let a slow sigh of relief seep out of him. Seska lifted her newly healed hand to stroke his face. Normally, he would have discouraged her such an intimate gesture, but for the moment he was so relieved he let it go.

"Doctor prepare for emergency transport from engineering!"

"Make some space! Make some space!" The Doctor was practically frantic, as human acting as Chakotay had ever seen the hologram.

The new arrival shimmered into existence on the biobed, obviously badly burned. Immediately the Doctor and Kes moved in to assess the patient but not before Chakotay saw the clothing. Even in its charred state it was plainly not the gold and black of an engineering officer.

Chakotay stood, pulling reluctantly away from Seska, who tried to hold him there by tugging on his hand. In his mind he was going over the duty roster for this morning. Engineering ... engineering ... who had he sent to engineering? Dalby? Torres? Jonas? The steps he took across the room were slow, deliberate. He was on autopilot. His brain needed to know even while his heart was afraid to look. He came up to the end of the bed.

Oh man. The body was barely recognizable with plasma burns but Chakotay knew immediately who he saw. He found himself gripping the end of the bed.

The Doctor, with a calmer air, closed his tricorder and spoke to the computer.

"Message for the log. Dead on arrival to sickbay at 14:21 hours. Maquis crew member ..." The Doctor hesitated, looking up to Chakotay for clarification.

"Bendera. Kurt Bendera," Chakotay said shortly.

"Oh no!" gasped Seska, who'd come up behind him. She slipped an arm around his waist and leaned into to him for comfort but he had none to give her, none to spare. The Doctor and Kes, not having the luxury of time to spend on the grieving, moved on to treat the others. Gerron stood beside the bed, his young eyes regarding the corpse with disbelief.

"He always seemed so ... indestructible," Gerron whispered.

"It is unfortunate that he didn't get to sickbay sooner," was the Doctor's comment, even as he treated a laceration on the arm of another patient.

Chakotay's dark eyes lifted finally from the body of his friend to find the Doctor's face. In a voice he didn't recognize he heard himself ask the EMH,

"Do you mean to say that if he'd arrived sooner you might have saved him?"

"Almost assuredly so, Commander," was the Doctor's swift reply.

Chakotay moved to leave sickbay. If Seska or Gerron said anything to him, he didn't hear them. Neither stopped him.

The bridge appeared to have taken some serious damage in the battle. Tuvok and Harry were examining the Ops console while Janeway was standing by the conn, with Tom Paris underneath, calling out a damage report. Janeway had her hands on her hips in a typical impatient stance for her. What was not so typical was her hair, which had fallen loose from its usual clasp and was now unceremoniously tucked behind her ears.

She looked over when Chakotay entered, her command posture softening somewhat with compassion. She'd heard that some of his crew had been injured, but she wasn't sure how badly. She wasn't even sure of her own crew's state of health. Judging by the look on his face it was bad news. Had Seska been killed perhaps?

"Commander," she began, but he interrupted her. He'd walked down the short stairs to tower over her, his whole body threatening. She stepped back, nearly tripping over Paris.

"Captain, may I see you privately?" His tone was clipped, barely controlled.

The bridge became very quiet. Tuvok straightened from his work with Harry and sent an unspoken command to one of the security officers by the tactical station. Janeway held up a hand to forestall the man's approach. Chakotay was as volatile as she'd ever seen him and she had no doubts he would fight anyone who got in his way. Fortunately, he was too far gone to even notice security.

"Certainly," she agreed evenly, gesturing towards the ready room. The doors had just swished closed when he whirled on her.

"It's not enough for us to be considered the hired hands for you? Now we're expendable too?!" he thundered.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Commander," Janeway said, coolly.

"Kurt Bendera is dead," he told her harshly. "And he's dead because he wasn't important enough to receive medical attention promptly."

"That's a very serious accusation!" Janeway felt her cheeks grow hot with anger. She found it hard to believe that Carey would deliberately hold back aid to someone in need.

"Confirm it with your EMH then!" Chakotay said.

She did not respond. They stood inches away from each other, glaring. Their friendship, so newly founded, seemed to be falling away in pieces with the resentment building between them.

"Janeway to Carey, report to my ready room."

"But Captain! I'm in the middle of ... "

"You are in the middle of making your way to my ready room now, Lieutenant!" Janeway snapped. "Let's get to the bottom of this," she said to Chakotay more calmly. She tried to remember that Kurt Bendera had been Chakotay's friend, his bunkmate even. Naturally he was upset, this was fuelling his anger. But there had to be a reasonable explanation.

Chakotay was barely aware of her calling the Chief Engineer. All he could see, beyond the red haze of rage, was Kurt lying in sickbay. The EMH hadn't even known his name.

Carey entered the room looking extremely put out to be called to the captain's office while he was in the middle of critical repairs. He didn't have a sympathetic audience, however, as Chakotay looked about ready to attack him, and Janeway gave him a look usually reserved for uncooperative aliens.

"Mr. Carey, what happened to Kurt Bendera?"

Carey's expression darkened to a scowl.

"I sent him to fix a plasma leak in jeffries tube 11. Instead he started a fire and got himself killed."

Chakotay's eyes narrowed and Janeway cursed Carey for his lack of sensitivity to the situation.

"Did he receive medical attention quickly?" asked Janeway. Now Carey looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Not as quickly as I would have liked. We didn't find him until the fire was detected by the sensor grid. But he should have known better than to play around with that stuff. It's dangerous!"

"You know what else is dangerous Lieutenant?" asked Chakotay harshly. "Accusing my crewmember of sabotage. Where the HELL do you get off ...?"

"Hey!" burst out Carey, matching Chakotay's volume. "I sent him to fix a leak and I get a fire in return! Where the hell does he get off damaging this ship?!"

"GENTLEMEN!" Janeway stepped in between the two of them.

"Captain Janeway please turn to the Emergency Medical Channel," came an additional voice. Janeway sighed, looking at her feet.

"I'm a little busy right now Doctor," she snapped.

"Actually, I was looking for Commander Chakotay," the Doctor said. "It's about his dead crewmember."

Janeway winced. Was everyone so cold as to be completely unaware of how this death had affected Chakotay? She could maybe make some allowances for the EMH, but Carey's behaviour was inexcusable.

"What is it?" asked Chakotay coldly, turning to face the monitor now filled with the Doctor's face.

"I was beginning an autopsy when Kes so rightly pointed out that perhaps that was not proper procedure for you. I apologise. Sometimes I forget we're not all Starfleet around here."

Chakotay's jaw muscles clenched but he said nothing.

"However, in my initial work I discovered something I thought you might like to know. Mr. Bendera did not die of plasma burns as we originally thought. Those occurred after his death."

"What killed him?" asked Janeway, mystified.

"It appears he was shot in the chest with a phaser at close range."

"A phaser?" Janeway gasped.

Chakotay looked equally shocked. While she would not have thought it possible just moments before Janeway saw his anger now smolder into a deep rage. This was the man she'd expected to find on Fides when she'd taken her ship after the Maquis. This angry and volatile, hostile man who looked ready to strike out at anyone and anything without thinking of consequences. His presence surprised her, as she had come to believe that person did not exist.

"You're saying he was shot and then burned?" asked Chakotay.

"That is correct. Do you want me to continue with the autopsy?"

"No." Chakotay's fist slammed quickly against the console, shutting off the EMH channel with a decisive thump.

"Chakotay, are you sure?" asked Janeway. "Perhaps the autopsy will show ..."

"Will show what, Captain?" He turned to face Carey, who was shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "Will it show which of your Starfleet officers shot my friend?"

"Lieutenant, thank you. You may return to your repairs. Please send Lieutenant Tuvok in." Janeway dismissed Carey quickly, before he antagonized Chakotay further.

"Chakotay," she tried to reach him but he wouldn't meet her look, turning from her. He turned in circles, bringing his hands up to eyes as though shutting out his senses could stop all his pain. "Please. Let the Doctor do the autopsy. Let Tuvok do some investigating so we can get to the bottom of this."

Chakotay's laugh was not with amusement.

"Tuvok! Yeah, sure, Captain."

"You know how thorough he is ... " began Janeway. Chakotay finally shifted his eyes to hers.

"It's not his thoroughness I'm questioning. It's his bias."

At that moment Tuvok entered the ready room. Janeway pulled herself away from Chakotay and stepped over to her first officer.

"Tuvok, one of the Maquis, Kurt Bendera, was killed this morning. Someone shot him and then made it look like he'd been killed by plasma burns."

Tuvok took in this information with his usual calm. He glanced over to the raging Maquis leader. Chakotay did nothing to disguise his hatred, the ugly emotion filling his features.

"Indeed," was all Tuvok said.

"I want you to investigate," Janeway continued. "I want to know who did this and why."

"You want to know why?" yelled Chakotay. "I'll tell you why. Maybe he didn't follow correct procedure when addressing an officer! Maybe he didn't give due process to accessing equipment! Maybe he didn't show enough respect to the high and mighty officers who were treating him like he should be locked away in a cage! And maybe that was finally enough to tip one of your crew over the edge to violence!"

"It is equally possible that he was killed by one of the Maquis working on Voyager today," stated Tuvok.

Janeway didn't have any time to react, to try to move in to prevent the altercation, before Chakotay was across the room. His punch knocked Tuvok to his knees, but the Vulcan recovered quickly, standing with a defensive posture. However, Chakotay wasn't interested in fighting him. He pulled back and hit his comm badge.

"Chakotay to Torres."

Down in engineering B'Elanna was trying to get her mind around the news that Seska had just brought her when she got the hail. Feeling shocked, like someone had knocked the wind out of her, she responded.

"Torres here."

"Get all the Maquis on Voyager back to Fides."

Torres blinked with surprise. Seska nodded sadly.

"But Chakotay we're not finished with the ..."

"I don't care what you're doing! Get everyone back to our ship NOW!" he thundered. Even knowing he was nowhere close, Torres backed away from the sound a bit.

"Ok, Ok," she agreed. She dropped her tools and began wandering around engineering to gather up those on the work detail. Carey arrived back at that point and watched her with a sad expression but surprisingly he did not object to their leaving.

"Chakotay," Janeway began, but she didn't really know what to say. She didn't know how to reach him.

"Our association is over, Captain," he told her, his voice like ice. "Our alliance is broken. We will leave you to your Starfleet selves and your investigation." He practically spat the words out.

"Don't do this, Commander," she said, her tone caught between imploring and commanding. "I know - I know you must be hurting right now but we can ..."

"You know nothing!" he snapped. "You know nothing about me or how I feel. You wait until your trust has been betrayed and your friend lies murdered in sickbay before you presume to know me!"

He whirled around and left the room before she had a chance to say anything else. Janeway knew she should go after him. Her brain, her heart, her duty were all screaming at her not to let him go. Not like this. But she also knew she was powerless to reach him while he was in this mood.

She and Tuvok stepped onto the bridge together. Chakotay was gone. All eyes turned to the captain with questions. She had no answers.

"Captain," spoke up Harry. "The Maquis are beaming back to Fides."

She nodded, then turned to Tuvok.

"We need to find out how this happened. Who did this? And why?"

He gave a curt nod and left the bridge. Janeway moved toward the conn, where Paris was now fitting the console back into place.

"What's our status Mr. Kim?" called out Janeway. As he gave her a rundown of their systems Janeway realized with a sinking heart that they were in no shape to pursue Fides should Chakotay take her away.

*****

Chakotay entered sickbay again with a pounding heart. Kes and the Doctor looked up at him as soon as the door opened. Kes's sad face tore at him. She was with them.

"Commander, did you change your mind?" asked the Doctor, who wasn't appreciative of the abrupt manner in which Chakotay had ended their conversation.

"No, I've come to take him back with me," Chakotay told them. He stepped forward to the bed and looked down on the body of his friend.

Most of Kurt's face, his chest, his arms were burnt from the plasma. Chakotay reached out a trembling hand to lightly place his fingers over Kurt's heart. His mouth moved in silent prayer as he wished his friend's soul a safe journey into the realm of the spirits.

"I wish you would reconsider," urged the Doctor, but Kes forestalled him with a hand on his arm.

Chakotay did not respond. He reached down with both arms and lifted Kurt's body up. Bendera was not a small man, but Chakotay was bigger, and stronger because of the adrenaline his anger had pulsed through his veins. He left sickbay without another word.

*****

When Chakotay appeared on Fides, with the body of Kurt in his arms, he was immediately surrounded by the others. Questions, accusations, sounds of grief all swelled around him. He stood very still with his head bowed.

"Page the bridge," he told Torres, who was closest to the intercom. She complied with wide eyes. "Set a course for the Alpha Quadrant and engage!" ordered Chakotay.

"Chakotay?" questioned the voice of Chell. "What about Voyager? She's not finished her repairs and she won't be able to ..."

"ENGAGE!" roared Chakotay.

Torres felt two tears fall from her eyes and trickle down her cheeks.

*****

Chakotay stood at the foot of the grave listening to the pounding surf crash against the rocks far below the precipice. They had chosen this spot as it was the highest point they could find, and they wanted him to be as close to the stars as possible. The rain had started light during their ceremony but it now pounded the parched earth which soaked up the moisture greedily.

He shivered slightly, but not from cold.

They had found the planet shortly after leaving a crippled Voyager behind to resume their course. Fides had no means of disposing of the dead in space, so they were forced to land and perform an old fashioned burial.

Chakotay had left the preparation of the body to B'Elanna while he carved a burial totem out of a red wood he found growing near where the ship had landed. He decided on the raven as a symbol for Kurt, so loving of tricks and jokes. His raven clutched a miniature Fides in its talons, as a symbol of Kurt's only family.

Then they had committed his body to the earth, wrapped in a blanket, with a silver locket belonging to his great grandmother clasped in his right hand. The crew all wore strips of red cloth tied to their right biceps in deference to a fallen loved one.

The Maquis had no tradition of dealing with the dead. Back in the Alpha Quadrant death was too immediate, too swift to allow for time to honour those killed. Chakotay had asked anyone who wanted to speak to feel free to remember Kurt as they filled in the grave.

When the rain began the Maquis drifted back to their ship slowly, leaving only their leader standing by the graveside, wet and somber.

Chakotay lifted his eyes to the sky, feeling the water flow off his forehead down into his eyes like tears. Part of him wanted to believe that Kurt's spirit was soaring, just as he had flown amongst the stars, even though his body was in this cold, damp earth. But part of him still had doubts about what happened to a person's spirit after death. If he wanted to hold fast to the traditions of his people then Kurt's spirit would be seeking retribution as he hadn't died naturally, but at the hand of another. Murdered.

Chakotay would rather think of him soaring and free, than held fettered by anger and revenge. Chakotay felt angry enough for both of them. He lowered his head.

"I'm going to miss you, Bendera," he spoke softly to the grave.

"Chakotay!" B'Elanna was calling from behind him. He didn't turn around. He wanted to be alone. "Chakotay!" she called again, closer now.

Fists clenching Chakotay half-turned to see her walking towards him from the ship. The rain was a torrent now, limiting visibility and drowning out the sound of the sea.

"Chakotay, we've got to go! We've picked up Kazon on the sensors. We've got to get moving!"

He nodded acknowledgement to her. She stopped midway between the ship and the grave, uncertain whether to return and wait for him, or urge him further. Chakotay bent over to place the burial totem on top of the grave, pressing the palm of his hand flat against the wood for a moment.

"Goodbye, Kurt," he whispered.

Then he straightened and walked swiftly back to Fides, collecting a silent B'Elanna on his way.

*****

Fides and the Maquis evaded the Kazon easily enough and resumed course towards the distant Alpha Quadrant. Spirits were low; the ship was very quiet. Chakotay made his way slowly through the corridors. He couldn't put it off any longer.

He stood for a moment outside the door to his quarters, not wanting to enter, but having nowhere else to go. The door opened to the small room just as it had so many times before, revealing the cabin with the light left on, just as before. Chakotay half expected to see Kurt perched on the upper bunk, grinning away, chuckling over the joke he'd just pulled on all of them.

"Got you good, eh old man?" Kurt would say.

The room was empty.

B'Elanna had been in earlier to collect the locket from Kurt's belongings, and she'd tidied up some. The upper bunk was neatly made, and Kurt's clothing, his things - the evidence of his presence in the room - were placed carefully in his storage locker.

Chakotay was torn between feeling grateful that she had done this for him, and resenting her for wiping away the traces of Kurt's residence. But even without his belongings strewn everywhere, Kurt was still very much in this room. As Chakotay stood still in the centre, he could remember his friend - hanging from the upper bunk meditating, doing situps with his feet curled under the lower bunk, leaning over to talk to Chakotay from above with his hair dangling down, tossing items of clothing in jest, trading insults like a brother - Chakotay could even recall on the rare occasions when Kurt had slept that he snored lightly.

Kurt was gone. He was really gone. A man who'd throw himself in the path of danger to protect a friend. Someone who'd fight to the death for what he believed. Someone who always found the bright spot in any dark situation, who could laugh when things seemed bleakest. Someone who could offer support without so much as a word. A mere look. Chakotay would never have to deal with the light being on all night again.

The frustration of the situation welled up in Chakotay feeding his rage once more. He let out a cry and turned to strike the side of the wall near the door heavily with a fist. And again. And again.

Oh god, what had he done? The Maquis believed in him, they depended on him, they trusted him to look after them. He'd aligned this group with the Starfleet vessel, believing it to be the best thing for them and it had killed his best friend. He'd abandoned Voyager when she needed help. He'd left behind their lifeline for supplies, for protection. He'd left behind a cowardly murderer who'd tried to cover his tracks with a serious fire. He'd left behind Janeway, whom he had considered to be a friend. At the very least an ally.

One of her officers had killed Kurt. Someone on her ship. Left behind.

Chakotay gasped with some pain as he examined his bleeding hand.

This was yet another example of his stellar intelligence. He shook his head with disgust and snarled again.

Seska had been heading for Chakotay's quarters. She had a proposal for him, but she wasn't sure if this was the right time to discuss it. Before she got to the door, she heard pounding on the wall and an angry cry. She quickened her pace.

Seska opened the door to find Chakotay on his knees, holding a broken and bleeding hand in his lap, rocking back and forth slightly. Without a word she crossed to the intercom and paged Gerron. Then she knelt before Chakotay, taking his shoulders in her hands to stop his motion.

"It's ok, everything will be alright," she assured him softly.

"They killed him," Chakotay said, blankly. "They killed him. And we abandoned them."

"They should count themselves lucky," Seska told him coldly. He looked at her strangely but didn't reply.

Gerron showed up at this point, somewhat breathless from his sprint, with a medkit in hand. It was new, with a brightly labelled "Voyager NCC-74656" on one side.

"What happened?" asked the young Bajoran. Then he saw Chakotay's hand and dropped down to open the kit. He pulled out a hypospray and went to apply it to his leader's neck but the older man pulled away. "For the pain," Gerron explained, gently.

"No," Chakotay said.

Gerron hesitated, but only briefly. Then he replaced the hypospray with a medical tricorder and scanned Chakotay's hand. Seska had moved around to sit behind him, with her arms around his waist and her head against his back. Gerron noted her embrace but thought nothing more about it beyond the fact that they were all hurting and Chakotay more than most. If she could give him some comfort it would only be a good thing.

There was silence while Gerron healed the broken hand. Chakotay gritted his teeth against the pain, glad for the sensation as it was far preferable to the numbness he'd been feeling earlier. He watched Gerron's young face, so worried, so young.

He was the closest Fides had to doctor, Chakotay realized suddenly. His stomach lurched with the weight of leaving Voyager again. Was it just one more bad decision at the end of a long string of bad decisions? Or was he finally putting right the mistake of allying with the Federation in the first place? They had no doctor, no medical facility. If there was an accident in engineering now, people could die. If B'Elanna was injured investigating anomalies, she could die. There was no holographic medicine man to make everything alright. Only Gerron, still a teenager, barely trained as a medic.

"Thanks," he said softly, flexing his hand when Gerron was done. "Feels good as new." That was a lie. It hurt like hell, but he would live with it.

Gerron still looked concerned, but a glare from Seska caused him to pack up his kit and retreat quickly.

With head bowed Chakotay murmured,

"I thought I was doing the right thing for all of us."

"I know," she told him.

"I thought it was the right thing. Now I'm not so sure."

"No one is blaming you for what happened, Chakotay. Those Federation pigs are the ones at fault."

He shook his head, more in an attempt to focus his thoughts, than to disagree with her.

"Oh god, Seska, now what are we going to do? How are we going to make it home?"

She said nothing for a moment. Then she shifted around so that she was facing his lowered head. She leaned in and kissed his temple lightly. Some part of Chakotay's mind was telling him he should stop her, but another part was saying it wasn't worth the effort.

"Maybe ... maybe we should reevaluate our goals. Maybe making it home shouldn't be our aim," Seska said, a bit hesitantly. Chakotay looked up, his tired eyes peering down at her with bewilderment.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"I'm saying we should be more realistic." Once she started Seska plunged forward with enthusiasm. "Chakotay, it will take us more than 70 years to get back to the Alpha Quadrant. We'll most likely die before we get even close. And even if we don't," she rushed on when he would have interrupted her, "how long do you suppose Fides is going to last? She's already working on a 30 year old rebuilt engine. B'Elanna can work miracles but even she can't make this tub last a century."

"Not go home," Chakotay said with disbelief. He gave a short humourless laugh. "And what do you suggest we do instead?"

"Let's find ourselves a stronghold here in the Delta Quadrant. Ally ourselves with some of the natives to this region."

"Colonize?" he asked her.

"We don't have to settle down," she told him. "With a strong ship and strong allies, we could still explore this area of space."

"To what end?" he wondered aloud.

"Does it matter? Who knows what we might find! Anything is better than chasing an impossible goal. We have to face up to the reality that we will never see home again."

"I suppose, since you have obviously given this a lot of thought, that you've already picked some new allies for us?" he asked dryly.

Now Seska did pause, looking uncertain.

"Kazon," she finally said.

"Are you nuts?!" exploded Chakotay coming to his feet abruptly.

Seska, still kneeling, took hold of his hands and looked up to his glowering face. She pulled herself up to a standing position. Keeping his hands in hers, she brought them together and pulled them close to her chest.

"Think about it Chakotay! They are the most powerful in this area, but they are disorganized. Imagine what we could accomplish if we brought the different sects together! We could rule this region of the quadrant easily."

"I'll ask again, to what end?" he inquired coldly, pulling his hands out of her grasp.

Seska reached up to stroke his face. She looked amused.

"Have you no ambition, my love?"

Chakotay stepped back from her slowly. He suddenly felt like he was suffocating in the small space.

"I think you'd better go now," he told her.

She nodded and turned towards the door. In its open frame she stood and looked back at him.

"Think about it, Chakotay," she repeated, before leaving him alone.

*****

The silence of night on Fides was broken only by the rattle and hum of ship's systems, a comforting sound usually, as it meant there was no crisis and the ship was still moving. The Maquis were asleep, except for the skeleton swing shift on the bridge and in engineering. And except for Chakotay, who lay wide awake in his lower bunk, not able to take comfort in the quiet of his ship, nor in the warmth of the woman asleep in his arms.

His mind was in turmoil with ideas and possibilities bouncing around. As soon as he'd thought of one scenario another presented itself. He felt like he was faced with too many choices, too many paths to walk down. None of the paths revealed themselves to him as inviting and he feared that treading on them would bring him only to thorns.

The plan that Seska had proposed to him last week had appalled him at first. To attempt an alliance with their worst Delta Quadrant enemy? It was unthinkable! And yet ... hadn't he already brought the Maquis through an alliance with the enemy?

Captain Janeway's orders were to arrest him. To take all of them into custody and return them to Federation justice. If they hadn't been so far away from the Federation, Janeway would have done exactly that.

A change of circumstances had brought the Maquis together with the Starfleet crew. Could another change bring them into an agreement with yet another enemy?

Chakotay couldn't reject all that Seska had said. She was right to tell him they'd never see home again. Their chances of reaching the Alpha Quadrant in their lifetime were slim; they'd only diminished since leaving Voyager.

Maybe that pathway was closed to them then. Perhaps he should focus on what kind of life they could make for themselves in this Quadrant. They should give up any pretense that home was a plausible destination.

If they were going to settle in this region, then allying with the Kazon was a good idea. They might be disorganized and fractured into sects, but they were numerous, pesky, dangerous. Some kind of non-aggression pact might keep Fides free from their annoying raids. It wasn't as if Fides had anything the Kazon craved. Voyager's technology was a far bigger prize.

Seska moved slightly in her sleep and tightened her embrace. She was almost fully on top of him now. Chakotay didn't much care for his role as a mattress, but the bunks on Fides were designed for only one sleeper at a time. It made for ... cozy couplings.

He brought up a hand to lightly stroked her hair, sadly pondering the underneath of the upper bunk. In the dark it really did seem closer. At least he and Seska hadn't displaced anyone in their need for privacy. He had the cabin all to himself now.

Laying a hand gently on the side of her head, he let his thumb trace softly down her cheek. The ease in which she'd returned herself to his bunk astonished him ... disgusted him. He was more disgusted with himself than her, because she obviously cared a great deal more than he did.

Making love with Seska brought him no joy. It was a physical release; a brief escape from the depressed uncertainty that plagued his thoughts, keeping him from sleep. It was also a mistake, he realized now.

Well, he'd made a few of those in his life, and he'd probably make a few more before he died.

*****

B'Elanna cast her sad eyes around the crowded galley, noting the unhappy, disbelieving expressions of her friends. She'd listened to Chakotay's plan with growing unease. Or rather, she'd listened to Seska's plan, as Chakotay had said very little since assembling them here. His features were closed, expressionless...no, cold. She couldn't tell what he was thinking and she could only imagine what he was feeling.

B'Elanna tried to remember she'd been just as skeptical when Chakotay had initiated an alliance with Voyager. She'd trusted him then; she'd trust him now. If only she could be sure he was really thinking this through.

The meeting reminded her of past times and she was suddenly thrust into a memory long past....a lifetime ago. On an outpost in the DMZ of the Alpha Quadrant, in the thick of a Cardassian occupation... They were a grim band, not of warriors, but of colonists, fearful for their homes, their children, their lives.

Chakotay had never run his cell as a democracy; he'd spent too many years in Starfleet not to appreciate the value of a hierarchy. But he was open minded and he was fair and he listened to the opinions of his group. He would gather them together, outline the plan, listen to objections and then give orders. And they followed him. They hadn't had a powwow like this in a long time, B'Elanna realized, not since making the alliance with Janeway.

The memory that came to B'Elanna now was of the one time - the only time she could think of - that someone had openly challenged Chakotay's authority at the planning session. Then his expression, his tone of voice, his body language had been very clear. Irritation, frustration, and ultimately, disappointment.

Seska had continued to argue with Chakotay, but B'Elanna had never seen her push so hard again. And that had been the last time Chakotay had prevailed upon Torres to swap bunks. It hadn't escaped her notice that Seska wasn't spending much time in her own bunk these days.

That's what made this whole situation seem unreal. Chakotay didn't like to be maneuvered by Seska; it was his main reason for breaking off their intimate relationship. Yet here he was allowing Seska to present a plan most of the Maquis, including Torres, found appalling. How far into grief had Chakotay retreated?

There was only one other person B'Elanna knew who would ever openly question the Maquis leader. But he was dead.

*****

The hum of the engine and the clatter of her fellow workers was starting to grate on B'Elanna's nerves. Truth be told, her nerves were about frayed. She hated waiting; she preferred action.

They had found an uninhabited M-class planet to orbit while they awaited the arrival of the Kazon. It was typical, thought B'Elanna, that normally they couldn't help but run into those smarmy pests and now there wasn't a Kazon to be found. When she suggested to Chakotay that they break orbit to go hunting, he'd vetoed her, saying he wanted to pick their meeting place.

Torres had to grudgingly admit that he was right, even if she hated waiting.

The door to engineering opened and Chakotay walked in, carrying some circuit boards that needed repairs. Torres took some small satisfaction out of the fact that Chakotay didn't like all this inactivity either. Which was unlike him, she mused, he was normally an extraordinarily patient man. Still Torres wasn't the only one of the Maquis to notice that Chakotay just wasn't himself these days.

He handed her the circuit boards and seemed to hesitate. B'Elanna was tempted to put him to work, he seemed so lost. As he turned to go she lightly touched his arm to stop him.

"Chakotay ... are you sure about this?" she asked softly. He regarded her stonily.

"You have a problem, Torres?"

B'Elanna didn't much care for his tone, but once started down this path she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"Remember what you told me when you decided to save Voyager from those Kazon? The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"If that's true," Chakotay said quietly, looking at the floor, "then we should have a lot of friends."

"If Voyager is our friend then how can you think of contacting the Kazon?" Torres didn't mean to sound so accusing. She really was trying to understand.

"Voyager isn't our friend!" snapped Chakotay. "They killed Kurt. They murdered him!"

"Someone on Voyager killed him, but they didn't."

Chakotay shook his head and turned away again. B'Elanna scrambled around from her workstation to step in front of him.

"Ch'kotay! Come on! You are condemning over one hundred people for that crime. Did that arrogant jerk Paris kill Kurt? No, he was too busy flying the ship. Did Harry? Innocent Harry Kim who's probably never fired a phaser outside of drill practice? Not likely! Even that pig Carey would never have done this. He knew how valuable we were to them. And Captain Janeway? Did she kill him?"

"What is your point, Torres?" asked Chakotay icily. B'Elanna laid her hand on his arm again.

"I trust you. I just want to be sure this is really what you want to do. That you really believe this is best for us."

"I do," he said, but Torres was not convinced. Her troubled eyes regarded his face for a moment as if seeking clues to what he was thinking.

"How do you know they won't just use us to get replicator technology?" she asked.

"I don't," he admitted simply, with a shrug. "But they don't know that we have replicators. Hell, most of the time we don't have replicators!"

She dropped her hand from his arm.

"I want to tell you something. I don't know if it's important, it may not be. But I think you should know."

"What is it?" he asked, with a trace of impatience.

"Well ... remember when Tom Paris and I were caught in that temporal anomaly? I ... "

"Chakotay!" Seska burst into the room, breathless and animated. "We've heard from the Kazon. Maj Cullah is bringing his ship here so he can speak with you."

Torres felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. If she didn't know better, she'd have sworn the inertial dampeners had just failed.

Chakotay and Seska were moving towards the door.

"Cullah?" Chakotay frowned, trying to remember if they'd encountered this Kazon before. "What is he? Ogla?"

"Maj Cullah," corrected Seska. "With the Nistrim."

"Nistrim," repeated Chakotay. "Do we know anything about them?"

They were in the doorway now. Suddenly Chakotay stopped and turned back to Torres, who hadn't moved.

"I'm sorry, B'Elanna. What was it you wanted to tell me?"

B'Elanna looked from Chakotay to Seska, who was practically pulling him into the corridor. She swallowed, then put on a forced smile.

"Nothing. It's not important."

*****

Torres arrived at the transporter room with Dalby on her heels. Chakotay had paged her from the bridge to meet him there and he walked in with Seska a few seconds after B'Elanna's arrival. He was carrying a compression phaser rifle over his shoulder, one of the ones the Maquis had acquired while sharing Voyager's resources.

"What's the plan?" asked B'Elanna, a little surprised that no one else had come with him.

Chakotay tossed a Starfleet comm badge to Seska, who put it in her pocket. He pinned his to his shirt, underneath his vest.

"Seska and I will beam down to meet the Maj. Torres, you're in charge while I'm gone. Keep a lock on us at all times. Maintain your orbit and don't fire unless fired upon. Await my instructions."

Torres gaped at him. The pair walked over to the transporter pad.

"Forgive my bluntness but that sounds like a terrible plan!" burst out Torres. "Only two of you?"

"Only three of us boarded Voyager," pointed out Chakotay. "Two if you discount Tuvok," he added under his breath. "And we went to them, not neutral territory," he pointed out.

"You didn't take a rifle with you to Voyager!" snapped B'Elanna.

"I didn't have one, or I might have," was his cool response. "Now get to the bridge!"

B'Elanna watched them shimmer out of sight then strode to the door.

"Make sure you keep a lock on them. I want to be able to pull them back here on a second's notice," she told Dalby.

"Right," he agreed.

She left the transporter room and ran to the bridge.

The ugly Kazon ship loomed large on the viewscreen and she could sense the tension as the bridge crew monitored sensors.

"If it so much as hints at powering weapons, we have to be ready to beam back our team and raise shields," Torres said. She wondered what was happening on the planet.

*****

Chakotay and Seska appeared on the barren landscape of the planet, back to back with weapons drawn. Chakotay took a quick look around the bleak terrain, identifying hiding spots where Kazon could be waiting to ambush them. There weren't many. A few boulders, but they weren't big enough to hide an adult. A few trees, but their branches were thin and droopy, definitely not strong enough to bear any significant weight.

Chakotay wondered in Cullah was cunning enough to plot an ambush. Kazon tactics as presented to them so far hadn't shown that kind of subtlety. They were at the other end of the spectrum from Cardassians, who seemed to revell in demonstrating their cleverness. Still, it was unwise to underestimate the intelligence of your opponent.

The rudimentary Kazon shuttle was sitting at an awkward angle, a short distance from them. It looked more like it had dropped from the sky, rather than landed. Chakotay knew all about rudimentary ships. Just as he shouldn't prejudge Cullah's brainpower, he shouldn't draw any conclusions from the state of the craft.

A few Kazon were hanging around the outside of the vessel. When Seska and Chakotay were spotted moving closer, one of them banged on the side and growled something into the door.

Cullah appeared. Chakotay knew immediately it was the Maj from his imposing posture and the guarded deference shown him by the others. Like other Kazon they'd encountered, Cullah had a surly, scowling face with a snarling mouth and piercing beady eyes. His hair was an unkempt, unruly mop and his clothes were dirty and made from a coarse material.

"Maj Cullah," Seska said sweetly, lowering her phaser. Cullah glared at her and then at Chakotay.

"What kind of a leader lets his woman speak for him?" he spat, making the female gender sound like an inferior form of life. Chakotay's eyes narrowed. He'd have to work hard at swallowing his dislike of Kazon to forge an agreement with this Maj.

"In our culture, men and women are equal," Chakotay said bluntly.

"I will never understand you Federations," snarled Cullah.

"We're not Federation," Chakotay swiftly countered. "We are Maquis."

"But you were with the other Federations," Cullah reminded him.

"Not any more," Chakotay told the Maj. "They earned our enmity by murdering one of us. They are not our allies."

"Good," Cullah said with an evil smile. "That will make taking over their ship much easier."

There was a moment's pause.

"That's not exactly what I had in mind," Chakotay said, warily.

"No? I was under the impression you wanted an alliance with us. Together we could conquer the Federations and take their technology. If we have the power to create matter out of thin air we will become the most powerful of Kazon sects. We will rule the sector!"

Seska's eyes were glowing with excitement as she listened to Cullah. Chakotay was feeling increasingly uneasy and internally debating the futility of attempting a non-aggression pact with so warlike a race. It was like asking a Klingon to give up battle.

Suddenly, one of Cullah's men came running from the shuttle.

"Maj!" he cried, "Voyager is in orbit!"

Cullah turned a wicked smile on the Maquis.

"Perhaps we'll get a chance to demonstrate our good faith to each other. Contact your ship and tell them to fire."

'Think fast, think fast,' Chakotay told himself, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was pounding wildly.

Voyager here? She must be looking for them. But why? Unless ... unless Janeway was seeking revenge for having been abandoned in such a bad state. Chakotay couldn't quite believe that. It didn't seem to fit with Captain Janeway's personality. But in all the time they'd worked together he'd only seen Janeway leave her course for two reasons: supplies or to investigate a potential shortcut home. Why had she deviated this time?

"Chakotay," Seska's voice was low. "She's come after us. Call Torres and have her fire," she urged.

"As a demonstration of good faith," suggested Cullah, with a contemptuous sneer.

"This is our chance to avenge Kurt's death," Seska told him.

Chakotay took a few steps back and hit the comm badge hidden under his vest.