The Maquis had rendezvoused on a small moon, not far Tedron III. Knowing the Federation ship would be heading away from them, towards Earth, they felt relatively safe for the moment.
Seska stormed around the make-shift encampment issuing orders that the others surprisingly followed. They'd lost their leader; anyone willing to take control was accepted almost without question. Except for Kurt. He knew how Seska operated. If he hadn't known of Starfleet's interest in having Chakotay back, he would have credited her with the entire scenario, just so she could gain control of the cell.
She was furious, or at least that was the act she put on for the benefit of the Maquis, Kurt thought. What better way to gain the loyalty of Chakotay's people than to appear distraught at his disappearance? Maybe she *was* upset at his loss. He had noted the feral looks she gave him and surmised things had gone beyond the platonic with them. It was none of his business; he knew what toll the constant losses and sacrifices took on them all. Who was he to deny Chakotay an hour or two of relief in the arms of a woman? Even though he didn't trust Seska, he had to admit she had a certain appeal that hadn't been missed by most men in the cell.
Seska saw Kurt watching her. She knew he was a Federation spy but had kept her silence. As long as she was able to keep tabs on him, it served her interests better to let him think he'd fooled her. Seska was certain she was the only one who suspected him; none of the others would have conceived the cocky human to be a secret operative. Indeed, she never would have either had she not followed him one night.
He'd been drinking with the rest of the cell when he left to "take a leak," as humans so eloquently put it. She had almost run into him. Apologizing in a drunken slur, he weaved his way down a path away from her. She would have thought nothing of the incident had she not seen him suddenly straiten up and walk with a purpose into the woods. Curiosity piqued, Seska followed him. Once he was out of earshot of the encampment, she saw him pull a tiny transmitter from his jacket and relay some message in code. Looking around to see if he'd been spotted, he hid the transmitter once more and resumed his intoxicated act.
She'd watched him since that day and noted other subtle behaviors that further convinced her: the way he'd listen intently to conversations, as if he were trying to memorize them. How he'd draw battle plans in the dirt as they were being discussed, claiming he needed a "visual" to keep it all straight, when in actuality he was attempting to commit them to memory as well.
Seska wondered why Chakotay never picked up on his friend being involved with Starfleet. Not only the methods Kurt employed, but his identify as well. Was the knowledge of Kurt's activities on a "need to know" basis? Had Chakotay had been left out of the loop? She didn't have the answers, and likely wouldn't get them with Chakotay now in custody on *Voyager*.
Which left her two options: take over the cell and attempt a rescue, or team up with Kurt and let him do the same thing. The latter appealed more to her sense of irony. Kurt Bendera, Federation spy, destroys a Starfleet ship to return a Starfleet traitor to the Maquis. The other point in this idea's favor was she was better at being the "power behind the throne." She was perfectly capable of inspiring the Resistance fighters to follow her, but she'd always performed better behind the scenes. Not being in the spotlight allowed for her to better control events.
Seska walked over to Kurt, addressing him as if she were handing out maintenance assignments. "We need to take control of the cell," she stated bluntly.
"We what?"
"Look, Chakotay's gone and until we can rescue him, someone needs to be in charge."
"And you think it should be us?" he asked incredulously.
"Kurt, what are our options? Jerron? Dalby? Come on. You've been in this cell longer than anyone. You should be the one to take his place," she tried to convince him. Seeing he was about to object, she forged on with her rationale. "I'll help you. I know it's a big responsibility, but if we do it together, I think we can pull it off."
"If you're so sure about this, why don't you just do it yourself?" Kurt wondered.
"I'm still new here. There's a lot of "old timers" that would resent my trying to take over, but with your connections. . . ."
Kurt looked at her suspiciously. His "connections?" Did she suspect something or were her words mere coincidence and he was becoming paranoid?
"I mean with the rest of the cell," she clarified.
"I'll think about it," he said, turning from her. Grabbing his arm she turned him around with more force than she had intended.
"No!" she cried, then moderated her voice. "I think we should do it now. The sooner we step into the roll, the easier it will be for them to accept us."
Kurt didn't like that he felt she was pushing this so hard, but it did have a kind of logic, even if he didn't trust her. The best way to watch her would be to work closely with her. Maybe if he had some say in the running of the cell, he could do more than merely report on Maquis activities.
"All right," he said. "I don't suppose you have any ideas about how we're going to get him off that ship, do you?"
Smiling she whispered to him, "the Badlands."
"The Badlands? But how. . ."
"We all know about the plasma storms there. We'll trick *Voyager* into following us. Once inside we let the plasma surges do our dirty work for us; when their shields collapse, we beam Chakotay out, just like they did to us."
"But what about *us*? We'll be vulnerable to the storms as well," Kurt countered.
"But our ships are smaller and more maneuverable than *Voyager*. I'm not saying we won't be in some danger as well, but I think it's worth it to get Chakotay back, don't you?"
Kurt could hardly tell her it would be an acceptable loss, not when he was friends with the man. He found himself surprised that he'd struck up such a strong relationship with Chakotay. Knowing of his defection, he'd been prepared to hate the man who could forget his oath to Starfleet and the Federation so easily. It was only after he had gotten to know him he realized it hadn't been an easy decision for Chakotay; that he struggled daily with his choices and the consequences. He was likely having the same moral dilemma now that he was in a holding cell on *Voyager*. Once again he'd be forced to choose sides, caught in the middle.
Chakotay had never confided in him about the woman he thought of. And Kurt knew there was a woman somewhere. A man wasn't in that kind of pain without a woman being involved somewhere along the line. If his suspicions were correct, the woman in question belonged to Starfleet as well, making the choice of the Maquis seem even more traitorous.
"Yeah, it's worth it to get Chakotay back," Kurt told Seska. *If he wants to come back*, he thought to himself.
*********
"Captain," Tuvok's voice came over Janeway's comm badge, "Captain Chakotay is requesting a word with you; he claims he wishes to discuss the charges against him."
Janeway sighed. She doubted it was the charges he wished to discuss. "Tell him I've already read him the charges and that he'll have to wait for legal counsel to explain them better," she snapped at her Security Officer. She really shouldn't be angry with Tuvok, after all, he was just relaying the message.
"Captain, under the provisions of the Convention of . . ."
"I'm well aware of the provisions, Commander," Janeway barked again. So was Chakotay. He was purposely exploiting his legal rights to force her into seeing him. Well that didn't mean that she'd have to talk to him about anything other than the charges and his rights. She'd be back in her office within ten minutes.
"Tell the *Captain* I'm on my way," she said, picking up the PADD with his offenses.
Kathryn stood in the turbolift clenching her hands. She had to stop that, she realized. It was a habit she'd tried to break, but so far had been unsuccessful. The minute Chakotay saw her hands in fists, he'd realize he still had the ability to affect her. She couldn't let him see how hard it was for her to face him.
In the Brig, Chakotay was pacing; the security guard had informed him that the Captain was on her way. Now that she was coming, what was he going to say? He knew she would do her damnedest to keep things at an impersonal level, but he needed her to hear him out. This was most likely his only chance to get her to listen to him. She wouldn't fall for the "needing the charges explained" routine again. He looked up as the doors opened.
"Make this quick, Captain, I have a lot of work to do."
"I can imagine. Starfleet always wants everything in triplicate."
An unwanted memory of them filling out paperwork crossed her mind. Sitting before the glass wall of their former office, distracted by more than just the sunset. . . .
Chakotay could see she was remembering their former work relationship; if only he could get her to remember the rest as well.
"I was wondering if you could tell me what Starfleet's intentions are once I'm back on Earth," he started. He knew she didn't have those answers, but hoped it would start a conversation that he could steer to his advantage.
"I think you know I can't answer that. It will depend on your trial; I think you're as aware of the sentence for treason as I am. If that's all, Captain. . . ." she said turning to leave.
"Kath. . .Captain, wait!" She turned back to him, seeing he was desperate to come up with a question that would delay her departure. It was almost comical watching him come up with these transparent excuses to keep her engaged in conversation.
"Captain, we both know you understand the charges and the ramifications perfectly well, and this is simply your attempt to get me to acknowledge you on a personal level. Fine. If it will keep you from harassing my security team with ridiculous requests, I'll give you five minutes."
Chakotay was momentarily stunned at her sudden change of heart. "I tried to contact you," he said, his voice nearly pleading. Kathryn held up her hand for him to wait a minute as she dismissed the security guard.
"Continue," she said, in an almost bored voice, as if she were taking in the words, but not believing them.
"I *did* try! Three, four times a day! I thought for certain *something* must have gotten through. But a few weeks ago, I found out none of them had. I was devastated. Kathryn!" he cried, stepping closer to the force-field, stopping just shy of the grid. "Do you really think I could just walk away from you? Without a word?"
"You did," she said, her eyes narrowing at the memory.
"It just seemed that way! Gods, 'Ryn, I used every bit of clout I had to gain access to communication equipment! All the relays must have been down! It was probably a miracle that *Ina's* message got through!"
"Some miracle," Kathryn mumbled to herself. If Chakotay hadn't gotten that message, would he be in her Brig right now? Or would he be by her side on the Bridge, his loyalty to Starfleet unquestioned? The point was, he *had* gotten the message. And made the choices he had. He could have left Dorvan and returned to Earth after the funeral, but he hadn't. For the first time, she felt strong enough to hear those reasons.
"So, what happened?" She asked him, her tone caustic. "What was so important that you felt you could give up *everything* without a backward glance?"
"It was hardly 'without a backward glance,'" he spat at her. Didn't she have any idea what his decisions had cost him? His mind drifted back to the devastation he had first seen on Dorvan, even before he saw what had become of Kiridan, his friends and family. As he relayed the horror his world had become, Chakotay saw Kathryn's eyes soften. He knew she was trying to remain impassive, but it was obvious she was losing the battle.
"I understand how difficult that had to have been for you," she said softly, "but was joining the Maquis the answer?"
There it was. The crux of what stood between them. He knew his next words would have the most impact of anything he would say to her, but he couldn't lie. Not now, even if it meant he'd lose whatever chance they might find together again.
"Yes, it was. And if I had to do it again, I'd make the same decision."
That shocked her. She felt sure he would have come to regret his move to join the Freedom Fighters.
"Then, Captain, we have nothing more to say."
Chakotay watched her walk away. It was pointless to try to stop her. She was too hurt, too angry to understand his need to be there for his family after he'd disappointed them so many times. That Dorvan had a claim to him prior to Starfleet; how he felt he had to finally acknowledge that bond. It wasn't just Lakita's challenging him to stand up and be the man of the family, or his mother wanting Chakotay to give some meaning to her husband's death by taking up this cause. It was living with himself. Could he honestly say he would have felt worthy of Kathryn's love if he couldn't respect himself? They would have been together had he returned to Earth, but who would have returned? A man who could look himself in the mirror without regret or one who knew he'd run out on his responsibilities once more? Either way he'd end up losing her, but at least he'd had the satisfaction he'd done what he thought was right. It didn't seem like much comfort at the moment.
*********
Kathryn never felt more ready for a drink then when she stepped through the doors of Holodeck 2, into Sandrines. The dark, smoky atmosphere of the bistro was providing the perfect backdrop for her emotions. The crew, engaged in their conversations and games of chance, hardly noted Janeway's presence. Walking up to the bar, she ordered a shot of whiskey. She knew the synthahol wouldn't provide the intoxicating effect she hoped for, but the burning sensation replaced the taste of bile in her mouth as she tossed the shot back. She ordered another and was on her third as she heard Tom behind her.
"I thought you told me you were only coming for one," he said. "That's three by my count."
"Spying, Mr. Paris? Maybe you'd like to join our other espionage expert in the Brig."
"So that's what this is about. Care to talk about it, Captain?" Tom offered.
"Not particularly."
Tom watched the woman before him. He'd known Kathryn for years, but in all that time he'd never seen her in a mood like this. She could be intense, furious, protective, humorous, but he'd never seen this dejected side of her. One thing he knew for a fact: Kathryn Janeway did not give up. And yet the person he saw now seemed distant, distracted, as if she had just lost the most precious thing in the world.
He didn't have to wonder who was the cause of such pain. If he needed any further evidence of a relationship between his Captain and former Commander, he had it now. The ship was operating at less-than-peak, but that didn't account for the devastated look he'd witnessed on her features.
"You still owe me that pool game," he reminded her.
"Not tonight, Tom," she said, rubbing her forehead. Tom didn't press her. In the mood she was in, she'd probably let him win just to be rid of her obligation. He enjoyed the challenge she usually presented him too much to settle for a "quickie." He smirked as the thought flashed through his mind.
"Okay, you win, Captain. But I'm not letting you off the hook."
"Understood, Lieutenant," Kathryn replied with a forced smile. She was about to leave when she turned back to him. "Tom? Do you have anything stronger than synthahol around here?"
Paris sputtered, not sure how to answer her. "I, uh, you know it's against regulations and. . ."
Kathryn placed her hand on his arm. "Relax, Tom. This is Kathy asking, not your Captain. You think I don't know you've got a stash somewhere?" she asked, a genuine smile lighting up her face.
"Well, then, 'Kathy,' I think I have just what the Doctor wouldn't order." Tom reached behind the bar and retrieved a bottle of Saurian brandy. "Take it easy on it though; it can sneak up on you pretty fast."
"Thanks, Tom. For everything." He knew her thanks encompassed more than the alcohol, but didn't know how *not* talking to her had helped.
"Sure, Kathy. Any time."
"Watch it, Mr. Paris. You're speaking to your Captain."
Tom grinned. "Sorry, Ma'am, I didn't see you come in."
Janeway's smile widened as she nodded in B'Elanna's direction. "Why don't you ask her for a game? Of pool, I mean," Kathryn quickly amended, seeing the look in Tom's eye.
"Not a bad idea, Captain. I'll see you later."
Tom sauntered over to the woman leaning against the bar near the pool table. Kathryn couldn't hear their conversation, but from the look on B'Elanna's face, she wasn't too happy about what Tom had just said. Apparently, Tom wasn't ready to give up. He said something else when suddenly B'Elanna picked up a near-by pool cue and cracked it over his head.
"NO MEANS NO, YOU PIG!" she shouted, now only holding only half a cue stick.
Janeway was beside her in an instant, gripping the woman's upper arm as she slapped her comm badge, "Janeway to Security; send a team to Holodeck 2"
Tuvok's voice came over her badge. "What is the problem, Captain?"
"A slight altercation, but I think it's over now," Janeway said, glaring at the Lieutenant she still had within her grip. Kathryn had no illusions she was restraining her. If she'd wanted to, B'Elanna could have dispensed with her captain in short order. As it was, the young woman was breathing heavily, obviously doing her best to rein in her temper.
"I'd like Lt. Torres escorted to the Brig," she told Tuvok.
"Understood. There should be a team there momentarily. Tuvok out."
B'Elanna started to protest, but quickly shut her mouth; she was in enough trouble already.
Janeway looked at the wound on Tom's head. It was slowly oozing blood and he seemed a little disoriented. Motioning a crewman over, she instructed him to help Tom to Sickbay.
B'Elanna stared at Tom as Foster helped the pilot out of the bar, incensed that he had pushed her into losing her temper once again. Now she would probably spend the rest of the trip to DS9 in a holding cell, waiting to be drummed out of Starfleet.
"Well?" Janeway asked in a voice that intimidated even a half-Klingon.
"I. . .He propositioned me," B'Elanna stated bluntly, looking at her feet to avoid the Captain's intense stare.
"What *exactly* did he say," Janeway pressed.
"He asked me if I wanted to *play*."
"That's it? For that you assaulted a fellow crew member? B'Elanna, you could be in big trouble if he decides to press charges!" Janeway said, trying to get the woman to realize the seriousness of her actions.
"It wasn't what he said, it was *how* he said it! Captain, I don't think he has any right to talk to me that way!"
"You're right, but hitting a fellow officer is *not* the answer. B'Elanna, you should have just walked away and filed a report with Tuvok. You know the Standard Procedure. Now I have no other choice but to put you in the Brig."
"I know, Captain, and I'm sorry." Janeway could see the woman was remorseful, but that didn't change the fact that Kathryn's hands were tied by regulations. Janeway looked up as the doors to the Holodeck opened and admitted two security officers. Conversations had quieted in the establishment after the incident, but the bar was even more silent as the guards advanced towards B'Elanna.
Janeway watched them lead B'Elanna off the Holodeck. At least she was cooperating; the captain wouldn't have to add another charge to the woman's infractions this evening. The headache that had started earlier was now upon her full force, and she realized she still held Paris' contraband in her hand. If there was ever a time for a good drunk, this was it. But she really couldn't afford to be incapacitated. Placing the bottle of brandy back on the bar with a sigh, she turned to leave. It was going to be a long night.
*********
Chakotay heard the doors to the Brig open and sat up. He couldn't help but hope it was Kathryn, but upon seeing the guards leading a young Klingon-looking woman, his hopes were dashed. The only one on the crew manifest that he could recall being Klingon, or even partially of that race was B'Elanna Torres, the Chief Engineer. Could this be her? They'd never met, but he'd certainly heard enough about her and her temper to not be overly surprised that she was now headed for the second holding cell. Once inside he couldn't see her, her cell being next to his, but he could he could hear her. She was pacing, the sound of her Starfleet-issue boots on the hard floor was driving him crazy.
"Hey, do you think you can keep it down over there?" he called.
"Sorry, I forgot; you've probably got a big day ahead of you tomorrow," she called out sarcastically.
"It's just that the sound of your boots is terribly annoying," he said. He heard her grunt and then the sound of first one boot hitting the wall and then the other.
"Is that better?"
"Much. Thank you." There was a long silence then Chakotay asked, "what are you in for?" He heard a snort and then an almost embarrassed confession.
"Assaulting a fellow officer. But he's the one who should be in here, not me!"
"Oh, why's that?"
"He's the one who came on to me! I just put a stop to it!" she cried.
"So who is the unlucky fellow?" Chakotay pressed.
Another long silence. "Tom Paris," she finally said at length.
B'Elanna heard him stifle a chuckle. "What?" she asked.
"Oh nothing. I'm a little surprised it took Paris this long to get what's coming to him."
"You *know* him?" she asked incredulously.
"I met him the night of *Voyager's* christening," he said, a bit of regret creeping into his voice as the memories of that evening returned to him.
"Right! I forgot you used to be the First Officer," she said "I get kind of wrapped up with things in Engineering, and don't pay much attention to ship-board politics. So what happened, Maquis?"
Chakotay smiled at the nickname. She was the first person he'd met on this ship who hadn't condemned him first and asked questions later. There was also something about being incarcerated that inspired camaraderie. So he told her the story, leaving out any personal references to the Captain. He still felt a need to protect Kathryn, regardless of their circumstances.
"You're awfully quiet, Starfleet," he said returning the nickname. Chakotay was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall that separated them. He couldn't see her, but he suspected B'Elanna was in a similar position on her side of the wall; her voice sounded close.
"It must have been a hard decision for you," she said without recrimination
"I think the hardest I've ever faced," he said quietly. "So that brings me to the question: how *did* you guys get me off my ship, anyway?" Chakotay heard B'Elanna give a little laugh.
"That was me, actually."
"You? How did you do it?"
"A skeletal lock," she provided.
"Don't think I've ever heard of that one," Chakotay said, rubbing his chin.
"I don't think the Captain had either," B'Elanna replied, pride tingeing her voice. "It's kind of hard to explain. I had to reconfigure the transporter parameters and wait for a moment when your shields were down. That's the short version of it."
"Impressive. We could use someone like you in the Maquis," he told her.
B'Elanna snorted a laugh again. "Yeah, right. Join a group of misfits and outsiders who're fighting a losing battle. No offense."
"None taken. You're not exactly fitting in right now, yourself," Chakotay pointed out.
"Touch�, Maquis."
There was more silence, then B'Elanna offered a confession of her own "All I ever wanted was to be apart of Starfleet. They were a family, a group who seemed to care about each other. I never had any kind of family life growing up," she said, slightly bitter. "Starfleet seemed so appealing, so glamorous, that I applied to the Academy first chance I had. It's a little unsettling to realize my idealized dream of perfection had been tarnished. Don't get me wrong, I know there's a reason there has to be regulations and protocol within a group this large, I guess I just hadn't planned on the politics. All I wanted to do was be an Engineer on a starship, and it seems like there's all this. . .*crap* that keeps getting in the way. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I do. Starfleet is a good deal more self-serving than I initially realized. What ever serves their purposes at the moment seems to be their priority."
B'Elanna waited for Chakotay to elaborate, but it appeared as if he wasn't going to offer her an explanation with specifics.
"You worked with the Captain. You think she's going to keep me locked up down here the rest of the trip?"
"It's hard to say. Ka. . .Captain Janeway is pretty much by-the-book. But I have seen her bend those regulations on occasion; I guess you're just going to have to wait it out."
"Doesn't look like I've got a lot of choice," B'Elanna sighed.
*********