Whole New Worlds Home ADULT Title: Whole New Worlds Author: Ky (venom69) Fandom: Voyager Rating: ADULT Summary: AU where Kathryn is the one to infiltrate the maquis, not Tuvok. Character/Pairing: Chakotay/Janeway Spoilers: none. Warnings: sex, bad language, sex, violence and sex. Seriously. Author’s Notes: Song belongs to Patrick Park. I started writing this when asked for a specific scene – which ended up being in ‘Kinky’ – and then I didn’t use it here anyway. The bastard just kind of grew on me. So much for one-shot porn. Disclaimer: Usual guff. Not mine, promise to put them back where I found them. Date: 16/06/09 *** I'm the open side That’s always busted I'm the friend you need But can't be trusted *** The Liberty didn't really look like what she'd expected. It was small, clearly old, and seemed to be held together with sheer will, adhesive tape and probably some good jury-rigging. Somehow, it seemed both sparse and crowded all at once and Kathryn thought longingly of the large Quarters that would soon be hers when Voyager launched. Assuming she didn't get herself killed in the interim, that was. "New here?" The voice belonged to a tall, dark man. He was well-built and his eyes pierced through her easily. He leant against the bulkhead, his pose the picture of casual inquisitiveness. Kathryn hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder and shrugged. "That obvious?" He shrugged, too. "You look green." "I'll work on that." "Who recruited you?" This was the part where her story could all come undone, fast. Kathryn didn't miss a beat, though, trying to convey a confidence she'd forced into herself when she'd started this mission. "Lapis." The man eyed her, his stare betraying nothing of what he thought. "Where?" "Neli." She offered a crooked smile. "In a bar." The other man finally cracked a smile. "Sounds like Lapis." "I was lamenting my then-employer." She continued. "And Lapis suggested a change in career path, so here I am." "That easy to convince, are you?" She noted people that passed them, but didn't bother to stop and question her. Whoever the man in front of her was, he seemed to have the crew's respect enough that they would trust his judgement with her. At least she wasn't being questioned by the resident lackey. She kept her voice steady and her lies easy. "No, but he thought my science degrees could come in handy. I'm also not half bad in an engine room and I hear you're hard up for skilled workers. He suggested that I might enjoy your line of work and I wasn't in a position to turn that down. Interrogation over?" "Interrogation over." He confirmed, holding out a hand. "Ayala." She shook it. "Janeway." "You seen the Chief yet?" "No. That's where I was headed." At least, that had been where she'd intended to head. Sadly, there was no ship schematic to study and she was doing her best to wing it while not drawing attention to herself. The quickest way to look out of place on a Maquis ship was to wander around like a stunned mullet. Ayala nodded. "Two decks down, third door on the left when you exit the lift." He'd saved her ass and she knew it. "Thanks." Kathryn followed his directions, taking note of her surroundings, trying to formulate a mental picture of the ship. She walked quickly, hoping that no one would intercept her again. She found herself outside of a door that looked exactly like every other in the narrow corridor - she was going to have a hell of a time learning this ship... if she didn't get shot first - and she pressed the chime, waiting. Pressing it twice more with no answer, Kathryn sighed. She was about to step away and ask someone else where she could find the 'Chief' when the very door she was staring at opened and she found herself face-to-face with the man she'd been sent to gather intelligence on. She'd read his personnel file - both the official one from his time in Starfleet and the one that had been put together over his time in the Maquis - and she'd formed a mental picture of him in her mind. Tall, dark, tattoo over one eye, solid build, wide shoulders. The epitome of Authority. Dangerous, calculating, intelligent. She'd known what to expect. At least, she thought she had. He was handsome; she'd anticipated that, at least aesthetically. But there was something about him that intrigued her. An anger that seemed to bubble beneath the surface. But it was darkly attractive, too. The anger, if that was indeed what it was, called to her. She felt the pull of attraction, the spark, the beginning of something that would seduce and entice her, and she wondered if it was appropriate given that she'd ended her long term relationship less than a month ago. Probably not, but she could help it. The way he held himself, seemingly relaxed, the way his jaw was set, the hard stare in his eyes as he looked her over. He was certainly an angry one, but she felt an undercurrent of peace, too. A true contradiction. Kathryn mused that if she could see all of that from studying him for three seconds, an actual conversation might bring forth something she wasn't prepared to deal with. Yet. "You're new." He said, his voice quiet as it broke her thoughts. She was grateful, but didn't show it. Quickly, she made mental acknowledgement of the suspicion and curiosity in his eyes, figuring that it would work towards getting a foot in the door. Literally, as the case was. "Yes." "I'm Chakotay." He nodded to the panel she'd been pressing. "First lesson; the chime doesn't work." "Understood." Jerking his head backwards, he took a step out of the entryway. "Now get in here and tell me who you are." Kathryn followed him in, finding herself in a small box of a room with little else other than a bed and a chest of drawers. The only saving grace of the room was a small view port over the drawers and a couch along the one free wall. He moved back to sit on the rumpled bed, his legs stretched out almost to the end and his hands laced together across his stomach. He leant against the wall and eyed her silently. Kathryn stood in the middle of the room - the 'middle' being that she was about four feet from him. It was certainly an interesting 'interview' situation if ever she'd had one. She felt naked; never a good thing when one was lying out one's ass. Some part of her, the part that had been mildly startled by everything she'd seen in him within the first few seconds, wondered if being interrogated in his room was a wise idea. Probably not. The bed was tempting, he was tempting. She wasn't going to screw him and screw her chances up, though. Even if she wasn't making a lot of smart choices lately, she quietly admitted, she wouldn't do that. And she doubted that he let people into his cell based on their ability to show him a good time. Although, if he did... Stop that! She mentally cursed, fighting a flush that threatened to stain her cheeks and expose her in one way or another; as an easy lay or a traitor. She wasn't sure which was worse. "I spoke with Ayala not long ago." She started, hoping that a bit of name-dropping might do her some good. If nothing else, it would stop the lecherous thoughts. "I'm not Ayala." Apparently not, then. No matter. Ayala had been helpful and, if nothing else, he'd been as good a candidate as any to test her lie on. She was going for round two now and crossing her toes for the same results. Though, technically, it wasn't all a lie. She had been on Neli and she had been in the bar. Only, she'd seen Lapis come to an untimely death in a good old-fashioned bar fight. She'd only heard his name when it was yelled across the room and she'd counted several lucky stars. Starfleet had sent her to that bar, knowing that some of the Maquis cells went there from time to time. It had been her job to blend in with the locals - which meant she was a disgruntled employee of whomever and just looking to get drunk - and she was to try and establish contact with a member of Chakotay's cell. Only, she'd gotten way luckier than that. When the brawl had broken out, she'd fully intended to high-tail it out of the seedy establishment and go back to the dingy motel she'd rented. Except, she'd overheard a few spectators commenting on the internal politics they were watching and that had piqued her interest. Apparently, it hadn't been a bar brawl at all, it had been more of a 'my ship is bigger than your ship and I've done more raids than you' type thing. Whatever the case had been, Lapis had been her ticket into Chakotay's cell. She'd kept a keen ear on the commenting spectators and, when she'd heard who the struggling man had worked for, she'd seen it for what it was. How were they to know that she hadn't really spoken to the man before he'd died? Ignoring the slight knot in her stomach, from nervousness and an unwelcome flutter of attraction, Kathryn repeated her story to the man on the bed, lying easily and keeping her eyes on his. When she mentioned the bar, Chakotay unknowingly echoed Ayala's words, "Sounds like Lapis." She finished her slightly embellished tale and waited expectantly. He was either going to believe her story and give her something to do, or he was going to shoot her. It was a pretty simple world the Maquis lived in and Kathryn couldn't help but admire that, in an odd way. "We could use a hand." Chakotay finally admitted. Kathryn tried her best to act nonchalant. "Works for me." He paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side as he thought. "I have no one on tactical right now. How are you with handling a weapons system?" "I can handle myself." "Good." Chakotay nodded and stood. "Leave your bag here, I'll show you the bridge." *** The 'bridge' had been even smaller than the first room she'd been in. Three people could fit and you had to be prepared to have your personal space invaded. The Captain didn't have his own chair - or his own office, she'd learnt - and he manned his ship from the front of the bridge. Kathryn was shown the station to his left and he'd introduced her to a rather gruff young engineer by the name of B'Elanna on his right. Her first few hours were spent familiarizing herself with the ship. She managed to find a map and she managed to ascertain that she'd been right about the Liberty; it was older than her. Which, in Ship terms, was pretty damn ancient these days. Though the Liberty was in space dock, it wasn't fated to stay there long. Apparently B'Elanna was doing some repairs - "With spit, skill and sheer luck!" - before they'd be able to continue on. Chakotay didn't fill her in on their future plans and Kathryn didn't ask. She wasn't going to poke her nose in things on the first day. With any luck, she'd be able to get through a few missions unscathed - and without committing a crime - before she'd be able to worm her way into the trust that the crew of the Liberty obviously had in each other. At the end of the day, the only thing she had to do was gather information. Find out about the raids they'd done and the targets they'd hit, if she could - Starfleet was fairly convinced the Maquis, Chakotay in particular, were responsible for a few attacks on Federation ships - and gather intelligence on future plans, if she could. No one knew if the Maquis had some kind of mission statement or if they were just going where needed, when needed, but she'd been asked to find out. If they had a grand plan, she needed to know what that was. If they didn't, she wasn't quite sure if that made them more dangerous or not. Either way, she'd see soon enough. *** She'd been shown quarters - smaller than Chakotay’s - and she spent her free time reading as much as she could find in the database. Of course, being in space dock meant that she had a fair bit of free time. She could've gone to the slightly backwater space station, but she'd found her time much better spent learning the ship and avoiding any kind of confrontation. Though she met all of the crew in the first week, she didn't speak to many of them and not many seemed inclined to seek her out for small talk. It seemed to be a ship full of somewhat lost people and they didn't want to bother interacting with those around them. B'Elanna was, surprisingly, the friendliest of them all. They worked together and slept a few doors down from each other, so having her as an ally didn't hurt. Of course, Kathryn had heard about the feisty brunette's rather hot-tempered reputation, and having her as a ally for that alone was just plain smart in the most self-preservational way possible. There were a few others that offered her some kind of warm overture at different points, but Kathryn didn't pursue friendships. She wasn't there for that. She hadn't spent much time with Chakotay since their first meeting in his room. Though they were often on the bridge together, he didn't seem to be one for small talk. She didn't know where he went when he was off duty, probably helping with repairs or on the station while he could get away from the ship. Kathryn continued to observe those around her, learning what she could. She didn't keep any kind of reports, she just tried to memorize everything she could. Starfleet weren't particularly interested in dossiers on the crew. They knew a few of the key players - or so they'd thought - and that was enough. Kathryn was to supply names, nothing more, while she focussed on their missions and what information she could give about Maquis outposts and camps. *** Six days after she arrived, they left the space station. No one told her where they were going, just that they could run into trouble at any time. That seemed to be a bit of an obvious statement, to her, given the nature of their missions, but she hadn't commented. "We're approaching the coordinates." Chakotay called. Apparently his job as Captain was matched with piloting, navigation and negotiations. B'Elanna seemed to only be in engineering, but that was mostly because the young woman all but held the engines together half the time, according to the scuttlebutt she'd heard. When Chakotay learnt to trust her, Kathryn expected that her Maquis belt notches would include more than just tactical, but she didn't know how long that would take him and she had no inclination to ask. For now, she was mostly trying to keep them alive. "Phasers are on-line." Kathryn called back. That was one of the biggest difference she'd seen between Maquis and Starfleet thus far; the Maquis, aside from being a little lax on protocol, went in with figurative guns blazing. Sometimes of the literal, too. She wasn't sure if they had a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later or not, but she didn't think she'd be up for that on a permanent basis. Of course, from what she'd heard, the Maquis had very good reason to go in armed to the teeth - not that they ever had much to go in with. They didn't seem to know who was friend or foe. It usually depended if a comm. channel or a phaser blast was sent their way whenever they encountered an unknown ship. They avoided the Cardy's like the proverbial plague. And Romulans of course. Starfleet. But there were a lot of ships around that weren't so easily identified. Kathryn still didn't know what their mission was, but the sensor readings in front of her told her that the unknown ship off their port bow was armed and ready to rumble. She relayed the information. Chakotay snickered. "I'm not shocked." She blinked, not quite sure what was going on. The unknown ship was armed, they were in a Maquis vessel and he thought it was funny? Was he mad? He opened a channel. "Vorite, power down your weapons, I'm here to trade." The voice that came back held amusement. "Hello to you too. I have what you need. We'll exchange via transporter." B'Elanna was wildly shaking her head, making a lot of hand gestures. Kathryn didn't quite grasp their meaning, but she was appropriately concerned. Chakotay appeared to get it. "We're having some transporter issues. There's a planet nearby. Feel like a face to face?" "Send the co-ordinates." The comm. link was cut and Chakotay did as asked, before entering them into the helm himself. Fifteen minutes later, Kathryn found herself waiting on the bridge for Chakotay to return. They'd landed on the planet Chakotay had suggested - despite B'Elanna wildly making more gestures, with sound effects, about the current capabilities of the landing gear - and Kathryn had been told to wait while he made the trade. She didn't know what they were receiving, or giving, but B'Elanna had stormed off the bridge not long after Chakotay, muttering something about him ruining her ship. Kathryn considered that it would have been a good time for her to do some looking around, but she wasn't prepared to get busted so early. If all went well, she'd prepared herself for up to six months with the Maquis. She'd said goodbye to her mother and sister, only telling them the bare minimum - long range mission, little to no contact, will be fine, take care - and she'd asked her mother to take care of Molly. She'd exchanged her wardrobe of black pants for dark brown leathers, her uniform tops for vests and her standard issue heels for flatter, more comfortable shoes. The bun of steel had been tossed aside and she'd packed several ties for a braid. Her house had been left as it was, but only because the story was that she'd left, disgruntled with Starfleet politics, and having everything wrapped in a neat bow would have made her too suspicious to make it past Mars. She'd survived her first week, but she was still a long way from the finish line. *** The mess hall, if it could even be called that, was also small. There was a replicator that worked one day out of ten, and a small, somewhat modern, cooking station that was manned four days out of ten. They ate ration packs a lot, and cooked when they could. Kathryn could cook, but it didn't always go well and she was sceptical about her ability to do so here without creating some kind of fire or something. Of course, that would be one way to get rid of the Maquis. And herself. She watched the man behind the counter, stirring a large pot. "It's mushroom soup if you're interested." His shoulders showed the stirring of his spoon and he didn't turn around. Kathryn wasn't surprised that he knew she was there, though. He struck her as the perceptive type. "I wouldn't say no." He worked without comment, then, using a ladle to scoop chunky soup into two bowls. He left the rest on the cooking element and shrugged when she raised an eyebrow in question. "I made a lot. People will come off shift soon." That was a lie; they didn't have 'shifts' per se. You went where you were needed, when you were needed, for as long as you were needed. And you kept your complaints to yourself. They didn't stay on the Liberty permanently, she was told, but when they did, it was all hands on deck, no complaining if you didn't catch your forty winks. They did was what needed and they did it well. When the mission was over, they stayed where they could. Kathryn wasn't sure, but she guessed that the Maquis network was a lot bigger than Starfleet thought. It seemed like they'd all lived on every one of the border colonies at one point or another. She wouldn't have been surprised if they had friends and allies on every planet. Of course, that only worked so well. Friends on the ground were one thing, people in the sky were another, and that was where the Maquis lacked strength. She knew what they did; smuggling, raiding and the likes. She didn't know why or where the profit was and Starfleet hadn't suggested any ideas. All that they knew was that the Maquis were a pain in the ass and something needed to be done. For that, they needed information, which was how Kathryn had found herself seated at a table across from Chakotay; former Academy Professor, glorified ex-member of Starfleet, and current leader of the most annoying Maquis cell on the go. "So." He took a noisy slurp of soup from his spoon. "Settling in alright?" Kathryn mixed the food around in her bowl. "You ask everyone that?" "Want to talk about the non existent weather?" Point. "It's fine. I like the nomadic life." "We're headed for Menth now. Small planet, big city." Somewhere it would be easy to get lost, she mused. "How long will we be there?" "Until we need to move on." He shrugged and she wondered if that meant until there was another mission that needed them, or until the wrong kind of people tracked them down. "Do trades happen often?" The trade with Vorite had been her first, and only to date, mission. It had taken a week and a half for everything to be completed, but they'd parted ways from the formerly unknown ship three days ago and now they appeared to be taking the slowest route available to get to the next planet. Kathryn assumed they were taking the back roads, as it were. And she had to admit that, in their position, she would've done the same. Though she'd silently decided to keep her mouth shut as much as possible, her curiosity got the better of her. If nothing else, she was a genuinely curious person to begin with and Chakotay would've known that. If she didn't ask questions, it would have been an oddity. She didn't stop to consider why she assumed he knew her that well. "They happen when they're needed." He shrugged, taking another slurp. "How's the soup?" Were they really making small talk? Could her life get any weirder? "Better than anything I could've made." "A hot meal is good for the soul." She could understand why he'd have such an appreciation for it and couldn't help but feel the same. "Then my soul thanks you accordingly." He smiled. "We've got places to stay on Menth. There's a hotel east of the crops." "You're going to land the ship again?" She didn't want to see B'Elanna's reaction to that one. "They've got a small space facility on the ground. They'll help B'Elanna with repairs. She'll be happy when she stops screaming at me for it." He shrugged, as though it was something he was used to. Kathryn wondered who really ran this ship, even though she knew the answer. The crew didn't talk much, but they respected their leader. They called him Chief more because of his ability to lead than his heritage. They didn't seem to question him and she knew that any of them would take a phaser for him. Loyalty at it's startling best. "What do we do?" "Whatever is needed." He wasn't answering her questions, but she wasn't surprised. He'd known her a grand total of nine days. She didn't comment. "You'll find something to do." Taking another mouthful of soup, he smiled at her again. *** The way he smiled almost made her nervous, she decided a few days later. It was a slow smile, seduction and sin, not the friendly smile of a commanding officer. He didn't do it all the time, and certainly not in front of everyone, but when he did... she didn't like it. Perhaps because of the own reaction she felt, perhaps because it simply made her uncomfortable, perhaps because of her thoughts and feelings from their first meeting. Perhaps because she'd met a rather hostile woman named Seska and didn't fancy antagonising her. Kathryn didn't know what the story was behind the Bajoran, but she was fiercely possessive of Chakotay, while he appeared completely obtuse to her blatant overtures. She'd all but growled a greeting at Kathryn two days ago when they'd arrived on Menth and she hadn't warmed any in the time since. She shook the thoughts from her mind and tried to re-focus on her surroundings. She'd followed Ayala's insistence and found herself in a noisy bar. It was a typical local bar, like every one she'd seen and disliked before. There was loud music, loud people, clinking glasses and ego's running amuck. And there, in the back of the room, was a table of Maquis; Ayala, B'Elanna, Chakotay, Seska, Dalby. And Kathryn. She counted herself as one of them, because it was easier to run with her tale. She'd been at the bar for and hour, drinking and laughing with the group. They were startlingly different to the people she'd met on the ship. They smiled and joked and drank and had a good time. They were all tinged by sadness and regret and despair, for their own reasons she didn't yet know, but they enjoyed their night as friends. She would never have believed they could have acted that way when she'd first seen them quiet, reserved, almost cold, wandering the Liberty. When Chakotay moved to the bar, Seska dragged B'Elanna to the dance floor and the half-Klingon didn't protest as much as Kathryn would have expected. They started moving, getting swallowed by the throng of drunken people dancing sloppily to the music. "She's getting cocky, isn't she?" "Dalby." "Don't tell me you haven't seen it." "Now isn't the time." "I'm not saying it to the Chief." "He doesn't care anyway." Kathryn didn't look, but she didn't miss a word that Dalby and Ayala exchanged. She had no doubts as to who they were talking about and she wanted to know about Seska, so why not eavesdrop? She could justify it to herself with ease. The men were silent for a moment before Dalby's voice dropped, but not quite far enough for Kathryn to miss. "She's doesn't like the competition." *** Three days after her night of spontaneous partying - with informative ear-wigging to boot - Kathryn found herself manning the tactical station once more. They were headed for a colony on the very edge of the DMZ. It was a raid, Chakotay had said. He hadn't told her who the target was and she didn't ask. When the raid was over, they were going to Danom. Smaller than Menth, Danom had a bartering system like no other, she was told. She didn't know what they needed, nor what they intended to trade, but she knew that barring complications, they'd stay for a few days, at least. They had spent four days on Menth, most of it scattered across the city. Kathryn didn't know where everyone had been, only that she'd been left to her own devices for most of the day. She'd wandered around the city. Chakotay had said it was 'big' and, apparently, big constituted less than ten thousand people and a handful of completed structures. She considered that it might have been big to them, given whatever troubles they'd obviously encountered in the past. Once the time to depart had come, Kathryn had been strangely dismayed to note that Seska joined them. The woman hadn't been any friendlier in the days following their meeting and, though Kathryn had no real issue with her, she didn't particularly want to deal with tensions on board. It wasn't her decision, though, and Seska spent most of her time in the engine room, which kept their interactions to a minimum. Kathryn didn't ask, nor did she want to know, where the woman spent her nights. The Ship had reached orbit almost two hours ago and Kathryn had been on the bridge since, waiting for the team to hail and request a beam-out. The newly-repaired transporters - courtesy of Menth - were being field tested and, if it all went wrong, they were in trouble. "They should be back soon." B'Elanna was watching the clock with a keen eye. Kathryn didn't want to admit to doing the same. "They'd better be." "I told them to wait a few days before doing this. Raids are hard work." She growled. "Ignorant tools." Kathryn frowned. How much rest did they need? "We only just left Menth." "What do you think they were doing there?" B'Elanna raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes when no response was offered. "Replanting crops." "Why?" She shrugged. "The people needed help." Kathryn wondered how it could be that simple. *** Another planet, another bar. Her report to Starfleet was going to include a lot of drinking stories, she feared. She'd have a story about a similarly depressing hotel room, with the occasional hosting family, and various forms of labour offered by the crew to the local people during the day. But mostly, it would be words of beer stains, bar fights and inebriated idiocy. What would Paris and Neychaev have to say about that? 'I came, I saw, I got drunk!' Chuckling quietly to herself, Kathryn snaked her way through the people inhabiting the establishment of the night. It was the same as Menth, Danom and the same as the others. She was getting used to it, though. The first time she'd gone to a not-quite-legal establishment, she'd been wearing a long skirt and a twin set. The second time, she'd had her leathers and a top that was too tight, but apparently let her fit in. Her saving grace was the vest she threw over the top. Finding her way to the table of repeat offenders - Dalby, Ayala, B'Elanna, Chakotay and Seska - Kathryn offered a greeting as she approached. They replied in kind and she smiled at each in turn. She watched with something akin to disbelief as Chakotay looked her up and down as she moved to the table. She'd heard, and seen, that the Maquis were lax about protocol, but wasn't blatant leering taking it a bit far? Especially while his potentially-current screw was hovering around, looking on disapprovingly? Sliding into the empty seat between B'Elanna and Ayala, Kathryn took the glass offered to her numbly. The suspicion in Chakotay's eyes was still there, it had never gone away, but over the last few days it had appeared to be warring with some kind of carnal desire. She held his gaze longer than she should have. Kathryn shuddered and looked down into her glass, searching for the answers that weren't there. *** They were on Treyan for almost two weeks. Kathryn found herself offering advice to the newly-formed government of the planet, assisting them with the communications system. She reasoned that it wasn't breaking the Prime Directive; one of the ministers had told her what his planet had been before. Before it had been attacked. Before it had been ruined. Before the Cardassians. Before Starfleet had bothered to try and help. Apparently everything had been destroyed in the first attack. The infrastructure, the cities, the space station. Everything had gone. They'd been a peaceful people, mostly outside the circle of galactic politics, but advanced enough to have warp capabilities and beyond. There'd been no good or justified reason for the attacks and that made it easy for Kathryn to help; Starfleet should have done so long before it had reached that point. The minister hadn't seemed sad when he'd told Kathryn his story and, when she'd asked, he'd simply shrugged and said that they couldn't change it, but they could try and rebuild their lives. It was a surprisingly inspirational ideal and Kathryn hadn't commented about their long stay. She still hadn't been offered any kind of Maquis mission statement, but she'd picked up a lot from the things she'd seen and heard. They were surprisingly loose-lipped when there was alcohol around and it hadn't taken long to figure out that they simply went wherever needed and did whatever required. Part of her almost hated Starfleet for trying to stop them. A group of people simply trying to help, how could that be a bad thing? But she knew the answer. The Maquis fought Cardassians when they could. Starfleet had a treaty with Cardassia. End of story. It didn't make it easier to swallow and, when she found herself alone in the newly-opened communication centre of Treyan, Kathryn's fingers hovered over the 'send communication' commands. She hadn't sent a report to Starfleet and it had been almost a month since she'd stepped onto the Liberty for the first time. Now was the perfect opportunity. There was no one around and, since it would be one of the first transmissions sent, she could easily wipe the record without anyone knowing. Hell, she'd helped to build the damn system, she could sure as hell manipulate it. So why wasn't she sending it? She'd typed the report furiously for five minutes. It wasn't much, wasn't comprehensive, but it was enough for now. It gave Starfleet enough information to go on. But she hadn't sent it. Kathryn could hear people outside - a lot of the Maquis were around - and she eyed the door before turning back to the console quickly. Editing the report, she sent a highly condensed version - Sill alive. Gathering Intel. Contact soon. Goldenbird. - and scrubbed the memory quickly, a slight flush of guilt washing over her. "Are you done in here?" She didn't jump at the sound of his voice, but that could have been more luck than anything else. "Just finished." Keying useless commands that could have looked like something if he wasn't paying attention, Kathryn turned, surprised to find him standing less than a metre from her. "The minister invited us for dinner." It was certainly a step up from rations and hard bunks. "Opulent." "Not really." Chakotay shrugged. "Isn't it dangerous to..." she wanted to say 'parade around', but she tried something a little more diplomatic, "be seen with the head of the planet?" "The planet has less than fifty thousand people at this point, the minister is a token title, there for comfort and not much else." He sighed, a shadow clouding his face for a moment. "They're not in the position to talk about who helps them, they just need the help." "And is that what you do?" He shrugged again. "We do what we can." "Why?" "Because it's right." Kathryn knew that he had a point and she couldn't help but think she agreed. She didn't offer affirmation to him, though. He didn't need that and they both knew it. "What now?" He was closer, now, their chests almost touching. She didn't know how they'd gotten that close, but she couldn't find any displeasure in it. Her ass pressed against the console she'd used to contact her employers, and the image of Seska fluttered through her mind, but neither of those mattered all that much when he dipped his head and kissed her. It wasn't tentative. He wasn't gentle. He wasn't asking for her permission. He kissed her, his mouth covering hers, stealing her breath. His hands cupped her face, holding her securely. She could have fought him. Could have given him a well-aimed kick where it would hurt. Hell, she could have just pulled her head back. Kathryn thought that he'd pull away if she gave any hint of not reciprocating whatever intentions he seemed to have. She wished she could. Wished she didn't want him. Wished it hadn't come to this. But her body curled closer to his solid warmth, her hands gripped his biceps desperately and her mouth moved easily under his. His tongue slipped past her lips and that was the end of any resistance that she may have had. Not that there appeared to be much of that, anyway. There wasn't a lot of grace or finesse to their kissing. It was noisy, wet and far hotter than she wanted to admit. They were clawing at each other, grinding and moving and trying to pull clothing off without losing any kind of contact. Somehow, they left the console and Kathryn found herself against the wall by the door, Chakotay's solid form covering her, his hips thrusting against hers. She shouldn't have been so excited by dry humping but, damnit, he was going to make her lose her mind at this rate, without even touching her. When did she get so easy? More to the point, why didn't she care more? Neither question mattered when he palmed her breast with one hand and tugged at her leather pants with the other. She could feel the heat of his hand through her vest and she helped him remove her pants, wiggling the tight material from her hips, her panties following suit. His hand was between her thighs even as she kicked the garments off. She was wet and ready and he met her gaze when he found that out for himself. Kathryn expected some kind of cocky grin to come forth, perhaps a racy comment, but neither was offered. He held her eyes, squeezed her breast and manipulated her clit while she rocked her hips. Foreplay was a luxury they didn't have, though. Not in an unlocked room with Maquis and Treyan's alike wandering the halls. Silence was key, so was speed. Tugging at the zip on his leathers, she pulled his erection through the gap in the material and worked him with her hand, noting with delight the groan that he bit back at her touch. The contact spurred him into action and he lifted her easily, holding her against the wall. She spread her legs, letting them circle around his hips and he thrust into her with one stroke. For as much as she wanted to savour the moment and enjoy the feeling of being full, they really didn't have time, so she just pushed her hips forward to meet his and tried to keep up with the fast pace that he set, thrusting easily. Stretched around his thick cock, Kathryn didn't let herself consider the absurdity of the situation, she simply enjoyed it. It was fast, rough, hard and lacking anything akin to feelings that went beyond pleasure. Everything she didn't normally want, but way too good for her to form any kind of serious complaint. The thrust against each other, trying to keep their grunts and groans silent. Kathryn was aware that the walls probably weren't that thick and her back was against the one that joined with the hallway. If anyone heard... it wouldn't go well. When she came, convulsing around him, she sunk her teeth into his shoulder, biting through the material of his shirt, muffling the cry that broke free. His face was buried in her neck when he shot his seed into her and Kathryn wondered if he was marking her skin and, if so, what that would mean later. Her body still shuddering, her legs slid from around his hips and she stood, almost afraid her knees would give out. Breathing heavily, they separated their bodies, Kathryn retrieving her pants and underwear from the floor while Chakotay tucked his sticky cock back into his leathers. It wasn't the post-coital type experience that she was used to, but she didn't comment. She also didn't look at him as she slipped her own leather pants back on. Her mind should have been racing but, mostly, she was floating in a state of sated bliss. She'd probably be kicking herself for the lapse in judgement later - she'd been sent to gather information on him, for god's sake, not screw him - but it hadn't hit yet and she was going to enjoy the afterglow of orgasm while she could. "Do we need to talk about that?" He asked quietly, the first words either of them had spoken since she'd ask what was to happen next and he'd given her a thorough demonstration. Kathryn was tempted to say yes just as much as she wanted to say no. The latter was smarter, if only so she didn't blow her cover. "We're good." *** She didn't ask about Seska, he didn't offer. They got what they needed from each other and there was no need to talk about it. Kathryn wasn't normally someone she would consider as, well, that kind of girl. She was a serial monogamist, if anything. But something about Chakotay had drawn her in and she hadn't once had the strength to say no. The subtle flirting that had been going on since they'd met, the heated looks he shot her when no one was watching, everything had added up and culminated in slick bodies and racing hearts. It was ridiculous, especially given her mission, but Kathryn couldn't help but respond to him. After weeks of potential between them, he'd kissed her in the communications room on Treyan and then he'd screwed her against the wall. And so it had gone on. Not on the Liberty. Never. And they didn't share a room planet-side. It wasn't about that. It was quick, hard and dirty. It was a stolen hour and a shattering orgasm or three. Kathryn couldn't reconcile that one with herself, so she didn't bother to try. She could have said she was gaining his trust. She could have said she was fitting in with the Maquis lifestyle - they were rather, er, 'carefree' - but she knew that both of those were a lie and she couldn't come up with anything better, so she just didn't try. They met when they needed, didn't talk about it, and didn't tell people. It worked. For the most part. *** "Does she know?" Obtuse wasn't a word Kathryn often associated with herself, but she feigned it anyway. "Does who know what?" "Seska." B'Elanna raised an eyebrow, sliding into the empty seat across from Kathryn in the deserted mess hall. "You and Chakotay." "What about Chakotay and I?" "Don't even bother." Kathryn shrugged. "You sleep three doors down from me, next to the lift. If I was sneaking around, wouldn't you hear it? The walls on the Liberty aren't that thick and, as far as I'm aware, none of Chakotay's neighbours have heard anything to suggest something scandalous going on." She paused and offered a small, forced, smile. "At least, nothing that involves me." "Who else would be involved?" "Seska." Kathryn didn't know the details and still maintained that she didn't want to. She screwed Chakotay two or three times a week depending on the mission schedule, but they didn't make small talk, didn't do pillow talk and didn't bring their sex life into any other aspect of their working relationship. They didn't discuss what happened when they weren't together and they had no good reason to, thus far. Ignorance was, after all, bliss. "Chakotay hasn't gone near her in months." B'Elanna shrugged. "He's not interested." "Anyone told her that?" From what Kathryn had seen, the Bajoran was inherently possessive of Chakotay. She knew that he wasn't particularly reciprocal, but she'd never seen him tell her to piss off, either, so she didn't bother to speculate. It wasn't her business, after all. At least that was what she told herself. She didn't stop to consider why she hadn't found another lover herself. Either way, Seska was almost a moot point for the time being. She'd jumped ship - though not literally - before they'd left Treyan, catching a ride with someone that was apparently familiar and needed her help. Kathryn didn't ask; she was just grateful for the break from the other woman's accusing eyes. "She's persistent, but he won’t budge." B'Elanna grimaced. "I'm glad. She likes to share details." "Which you don't want." Kathryn guessed. "And yet here you are, asking me questions." B’Elanna shrugged “What can I say; I’m a glutton for punishment.” Kathryn didn’t voice the thought but she couldn’t help but silently admit that she probably was, too. *** Four hours later she was on the bridge again, waiting. Chakotay, Ayala, Dalby and three other men had beamed down to the surface. She and B'Elanna had manned the Bridge while they'd scouted for a location to land. One that was close enough to the facility to be of use, but far away enough to not been seen by the ground patrol. There was a sick knot sitting in the bottom of her stomach and Kathryn knew exactly what this mission was about. She didn't voice her revelations, it didn't seem necessary. There was a tinge of sadness in the air on the ship, more so than usual. Kathryn knew that would get worse when the team returned, which happened almost two hours after they'd left. They came back with what they'd gone looking for and Chakotay hadn't said anything about how it had happened. He'd inputted a set of co-ordinates, set the course and turned the helm over to Jor, before he'd left. Kathryn didn't see him again for almost a day. *** They'd been on Selti for two hours when she finally made her way to the co-ordinates she'd been given to find the hotel. Selti was one of the more advanced planet's Kathryn had found herself on during her seven weeks with the Maquis. She was still relatively green, but no one seemed to think of her like that, mostly because they didn't have those kinds of luxuries. The bustling city she was going to call home for the next few days was large, well equipped, and known for having the best medical facilities around. When the Liberty had been safely in the local space dock - shared with two other nearby planets - they'd all made their way to the planet. Accommodation wasn't always pre-prepared for them. More often than not, at least half of them would end up on the Liberty for the nights. This time however, they'd all been given access to a local hotel. Mostly because of the precious cargo they'd brought with them. After beaming down, she'd located a public access terminal and found herself, once again, staring at a blank communication screen. Effectively, she had all the time in the world to write her report. The Maquis didn't keep track of each other. It wasn't unequivocal trust so much as the need for a sanity break. If they weren't working or commiserating with friends in a bar, they tended to be doing their best to blend in with whatever crowd of people were around, enjoying the brief chance at anonymity where no one wanted to shoot them. Regardless of that fact, she was in the public terminal for less than an hour before she wandered lazily toward the hotel. It probably wasn't smart for a woman, alone, in leather, to be walking through the backstreets on an unknown planet at night. She had a phaser and a quick reflex and she was going to back them both to keep her safe. When she found the hotel, she walked through the narrow hall until she found the room number that matched the swipe key in her hand. Letting herself into the room, Kathryn tossed the small bag she carried onto the table by the door. She'd only bothered to bring a fresh pair of underwear and clean socks with her. "I was wondering if you were coming back." The voice should have surprised her, but it didn't. There was a lamp next to her bag. She could tap it and a low illumination would bathe the room in a muted glow. But there were no curtains over the window and there was already a glow in the room from the lights outside. She didn't bother with the lamp. "I was looking around the city." Chakotay was leaning against the wall, looking out of the window that dominated the room. Aside from the double bed in the centre, small amenities in a tiny room off to the side, there wasn't much to speak of, but it was more than she had on the Liberty. "I wasn't asking where you'd been." He looked haunted and Kathryn wondered how much of himself he'd lost on the most recent mission. "I know." She moved to stand in front of him, studying his features more closely in the light of the foreign moon that shone through. She knew why he was here. They'd never outright asked, they usually just knocked on each other's door when the mood struck them. It was simple and it worked. She wasn't surprised when he kissed her, she was just surprised with how gentle he was. Chakotay wasn't really a rough lover, but he certainly never held back with her. That very first time, he had devoured her mouth, making her lose any sense of reason she had. This time, he nibbled at her lips, little licks that sent tingles through her and she discovered very quickly that it had the same effect as when possessed her. They were quick to fall onto the bed, clothes being tugged off. The first time after a mission was usually quick. The second was always slower. If they could fit in a third, Kathryn felt well and truly fucked by the end, happily so. This time was no different. Chakotay entered her smoothly and she groaned beneath him. Their bodies sliding against each other, he thrust into her slowly, filling her with sure strokes. Kathryn kept her legs wrapped around him, her arms across his shoulders, breathing heavily as she arched into him, keeping as close contact as possible. Somewhere in her mind, Kathryn was aware that this was far too intimate, but she couldn't do anything to change it. Their leisurely thrusts, the slow build, the thick smell of sex in the room. It all fell to pieces when they came, breathing into each others mouth, their cries mixing in the otherwise silent room. When they stopped shuddering against each other, their skin beginning to cool, Chakotay softening inside of her, Kathryn was almost certain that she felt a few drops on her cheek that weren't sweat. She didn't say anything when he didn't move, keeping her close to him for as long as he could. Eventually, numbness of the limbs forced them apart, but Chakotay didn't leave. He rolled to the side and pulled her into his arms, pulling the blanket over them. Kathryn didn't know what to make of it, so she closed her eyes and tried to sleep instead. He was gone before she woke. *** They were back on the Liberty late the next day. No one had wanted to stay on Selti longer than they had to, but no one wanted to say why. Conversation was almost non existent on the ship. They travelled - to where, no one told Kathryn - for three days before they landed on a small planet. Kathryn didn't realize what it was until they arrived in the middle of a cluster of half-built houses. It wasn't the most advanced place she'd been, but certainly not the least. It looked rushed, but still well done for what they could. She kept her eyes open and her mouth shut. She was introduced to five dozen people. Names she would try to remember but probably forget anyway. Ayala introduced her to Jeni, his wife, and their two boys. Chakotay didn't seem to have a house to himself, but he stayed with a few of the others in one of the larger structures. After everyone had eaten, sitting around a large fire - some kind of bonding experience, apparently - Kathryn found herself sitting with Jeni. She was an entertaining woman, warm and friendly. Easy to get along with. "It was a rape camp, wasn't it?" And blunt. Kathryn blinked at her. "What was?" "Their mission." It wasn't a question now. The other woman knew. Kathryn didn't bother to deny it. "They didn't tell me anything." "They wouldn't." Jeni shrugged. "They don't talk about it. They do their missions, free the ones they can, find them help, and pretend it didn't happen." Kathryn's time in the Maquis had been fairly low-key, all things considered. She wasn't surprised that Chakotay hadn't let her go with him and the team, but she was a little grateful. "How did you know?" "The way Mike looks at me." She offered a smile. "That was how we met." There wasn't a lot Kathryn could say and she knew that 'sorry' didn't cut it. "I didn't know." "It's... what it is." Watching the two young boys playing on the grass nearby, their laughter dancing through the fire, Kathryn sighed. "Is that why you have this life?" She meant the secretive life. The life where a woman didn't know when her husband was going to come home. If he was coming home. How did you explain to your children that they couldn't go to school because they couldn't live with most people? How did you build a community when you had to be conscious of the fact that you could be forced to move with little warning or, worse, be obliterated without warning? Kathryn didn't know for certain, but she was fairly confident in thinking that Jeni had probably been a target more than once, hence the family home in the middle of the Maquis base. Jeni nodded. "They're doing the right thing. I've got nothing to complain about." That was one way of looking at things, she supposed. She didn't have a better answer, so she went down a mildly different path. "Ayala is a good man." The look that Jeni offered spoke volumes. "So is Chakotay." *** They were there for almost a week. On the third day, Seska arrived, but Chakotay seemed to have even less time for her now than he had before. Kathryn only spent one evening with him, in the room he'd claimed as his for the time being. He met her by the small body of water they used as the basis for their filtration system - newly implemented and temperamental at best, apparently - and he'd held her hand on the walk back to the house he was sharing with several others. Kathryn suspected that, if Seska hadn't seen it first hand, someone would have told her. A lot of people seemed to take joy in crushing the Bajoran's ego, especially where their Chief was concerned. Kathryn couldn't help but be mildly amused, even if that did make her just a little evil. She hadn't spent the night with Chakotay, hadn't even let herself fall asleep. The last time they'd been together, it had been... different. Not necessarily in a bad way, just... different. And she wasn't prepared to deal with that again, so she'd screwed him and left, convincing herself that it was enough. Kathryn spent the next several weeks trying to believe it. *** Kathryn had been with the Maquis over three months before they finally intercepted a Federation ship. It happened while on their way to answer a distress call from a small camp of potential Maquis on a nearby moon. B'Elanna commented after she swore, "Seventeen weeks. Almost a record." Kathryn had snorted with pseudo amusement. She played her part well. She’d had time to practise and time to learn her place. And it was a little funny. Chakotay scanned the readings in front of him and swore softly, too. "It's The Dakota." The name didn't ring any bells. "Who are they?" "Bounty hunters." Kathryn shot him a look that would have been significant if he'd been paying attention. "Last I heard, Starfleet doesn't really have bounty hunters." "Not officially." An offshoot of Section 31? Something else? "Who are they?" The ship rocked under a phaser blast and Kathryn gripped her console to stay in the chair. As the shuddering stopped, Chakotay turned to her, "Not someone that likes us." She'd figured that one. "Bring the phasers on-line." Kathryn did, her mind blanking. Was she about to fire on a Starfleet ship? Could she fire on a Starfleet ship? It was the only guideline she'd really been given for her mission; do anything and everything to avoid injuring an innocent. Was this ship innocent, though? Was she to believe Chakotay? Or believe what she knew about the organization she'd been with her whole working life? Hell, her whole life, period. "Fire." The order came, but she didn't move. If she fired, what would happen? She wouldn't destroy them. At worst they'd be disabled. And then what? The Maquis could retreat? Chakotay would be unharmed? Her lover, much as she didn't want to think of him as such, wouldn't be in danger? Was he in danger? Was she? What if she didn't fire? She turned to look at him, though she wasn't sure why. Chakotay's eyes were hard and they pierced into her fiercely. His voice was gruff, the words forced out between clenched teeth. "I said, fire." Holding his stare, she did. *** Never on the Liberty. That was the rule. Fuck the rule. Kathryn had thought as she'd stalked angrily toward the box of a room he called his quarters. She didn't chime - it still didn't work - but the door opened when she stepped up to it and she entered, finding him reclined on the bed, his back against the wall. He didn't comment when she entered. He didn't comment when she stripped and threw her clothes in the vague direction of the sofa. He didn't comment when she pulled the clothing from his body, with his help, but she quickly discovered that he was hard and ready for her, so she took that to mean everything that wasn't said. Kathryn didn't leave him with any illusions as to what this was, neither of them ever did. She climbed across his lap, held his thick cock in her hand and sunk down onto him in one fluid motion. She enjoyed the slight burn for just a few seconds before she rocked back and forth, fucking herself, fucking the thoughts from her mind. She wanted to forget about what she’d done on the bridge. She wanted to pretend it was all just some odd dream she’d woken from. It didn’t matter what those people had been doing, they were Starfleet. She was Starfleet and she’d fired on them. Anger - at herself, Starfleet, the Maquis, the entire god damn universe - fuelled her on, making her rock faster, clench tighter. Chakotay didn’t appear inclined to complain as he lay back, letting her move at her own pace. He was watching her, she knew, but her eyes were closed and she didn’t care. Unashamed and abandoned, she rode him hard, one hand on his chest for leverage, the other finding her clit. She rubbed in rough circles, forcing her body from one orgasm into another, a long cry being ripped from her belly. Any small part of her that wasn't dying from the pleasure knew that he was coming beneath her, but she didn't particularly care at that point. She slumped forward, breathing hard, panting into his chest, before she finally pulled herself off him and rolled to the side. The bed was small, but they weren't touching. Sounds of their breathing echoed through the room for several long moments. Chakotay broke the silence. "I made your life harder, didn't I?" Kathryn had her own answers to that, but she didn't expect that he'd much considered it. She was a warm body, a good fuck and a welcome distraction from what his life had become. He had just been the same to her. She wasn't stupid, she didn't expect that he felt much of anything for her, but his question piqued her curiosity, if nothing else. Still, she frowned. "How so?" "Now you have to tell Starfleet that you fired on one of your own." Kathryn froze. Didn't move, didn't speak, didn't breathe. She didn't know what to say. She should have been prepared for the question, should have had another lie ready and waiting to roll off her tongue easily, but she didn't. Then again, she was lying naked in the enemies bed, what could she say, really? "How long have you known?" "Since you arrived." "Why have you let me stay, then?" She wanted to ask why he'd taken her to bed, but they hadn't had that conversation before and now really didn't seem like the appropriate time, somehow. She wanted to ask why he'd taken her to the Maquis base, but after everything that had happened in that week, she didn't want to bring it up. She was skating on thin ice as it was. "I was curious." "About?" "You. Your mission." He shrugged. "It's not every day they try to infiltrate us." Why were they discussing her political loyalties in the afterglow of orgasm? More to the point, why hadn't he just killed her straight up? Why wasn't he restraining her now? Why was he being so calm? It was his turn to pose a question. "Why'd you fire on the 'Fleeters?" Kathryn bit her lip. She'd been thinking about that since it had happen. Hell, she'd tried to fuck the memory from her mind, using his body for her own reasons, not fifteen minutes earlier. After only a few hours, she didn't really have an answer, but she tried. "You ordered me to." "Not good enough." "What they were doing was wrong." She admitted. "We were defending ourselves." "We?" "You. The Maquis." She flinched. "Semantics." "You're the one that fired, though. You could have created a feedback pulse in the weaponry system and shorted us out." It wouldn't have been hard, the Liberty was old. Things happened. "And we would have been captured." "And?" She didn't want to admit it, but... "And probably handed to the Cardassians on a platter." Her voice was quiet, the admission cost her something, part of her soul. Part of her long-held ideals, her father's ideals, her career goals. Something she'd built her whole life around. It should have hurt more than it did, she realized almost bitterly. Everything she'd seen in her time as a 'spy' had tainted her view, skewered things to her way of thinking. Isn't that why she hadn't tried to contact Starfleet with a report beyond 'still alive'? Isn't that why she didn't give much thought to her life on Earth at all? Isn't that why she'd stopped actively gathering Intel after the first few weeks and simply found her place in this world? She'd always considered herself open-minded. Starfleet would have called her a 'sympathizer' but she'd preferred to think of it was willing to listen to different points of view. What she'd read and what she knew from Headquarters had made her somewhat compassionate toward the Maquis. Not enough that she had expected it would impact her mission, but enough to make her ask questions. Apparently asking those questions had left her with answers she wasn't really prepared to deal with. "What did you trade with Vorite?" She asked, pulling herself from the troublesome thoughts. "What?" "When I first came here, the first mission we went on involved you trading. What was it?" It was probably an inane thing to be asking but, damnit, if her cover was blown, she was going to get the answers she wanted. Or try to, at least before he came to his senses about this discussion and either restrained her of called for backup. Not that he really needed it against her. "He had medical supplies. We gave him seedlings in exchange." It seemed rather... well, pansy, for that to have been the subject of her first secretive Maquis mission. But, somehow, Kathryn wasn't surprised. "Why?" "The medical supplies went to Menth. We'd been there two weeks before you'd arrived and they'd given us the seedlings to trade." She nodded. "That was why you had a place for us all to stay." "Yes." "So what's the deal, then?" Sitting up, Kathryn held the blanket from the end of the bed to her breasts, covering her nudity and her vulnerability. There was little point; he'd seen, felt, tasted and owned every part of her before, anyway. "Are the Maquis just a glorified courier service? You do the grunt work?" "We do what's needed." He shrugged. "Starfleet won’t help these people. We will." "Why?" "Because most of us watched the Cardy's do more than enough damage to our homes." He held her inquisitive stare with intense eyes. "They levelled my planet, Kathryn. They murdered my family. They slaughtered the population and they did it without consideration for the women and children there. They destroyed the fauna and flora and left it all in ruins." He'd never told her that before, but she'd known. His file had told her where he was from, her own knowledge of Cardassia Prime's unsavoury behaviour had filled in the blanks. "Do you think we're fighting because we're bored? Do you think we do this because we have nothing better to do? You might be a nomad, but most of us miss having somewhere to call home." "Couldn't you find somewhere?" She offered. "Start again?" It was completely ridiculous that he'd just revealed his knowledge of her true employment and yet they were discussion potential options for him and his rogue crew. And maybe her, too, she admitted. But little about their affiliation - relationship - had been normal, so this probably fit better than him handcuffing her and throwing her to the wolves. "We're being hunted." She nodded. "By the Cardassians." "And Starfleet." Kathryn didn't agree or disagree. She wasn't sure that she could, at least not with honesty. She wondered if that worked in her favour or not. "What now?" He smiled a little and she knew that he was thinking about the last time she'd said that, on Treyan, all those weeks ago. "I guess that depends on you." "Are you asking me to defect?" Chakotay shrugged and looked down at himself, naked, sprawled on the bed, her juices sticky on his flaccid cock and thigh. "Haven't you already?" She flushed, mostly because she didn't have an explanation for this part of her mission. Part of her was grateful that he didn't ask if screwing him had been part of the objective. She suspected that he knew it had taken her by surprise. The flush staining her cheeks, she settled on, "I suppose that depends on how you look at it." "How do you think Starfleet would look at it?" "I've done my job. I infiltrated your cell, earned your trust." She shrugged. "Reported diligently." He finished for her. "No." She couldn't lie, not about that, but she didn't know why. "I haven't been reporting." He arched an eyebrow. "I find it hard to believe they sent you undercover and are content to wait to hear from you." "I contacted them twice." She admitted. "Told them I was alive and would be in touch with more when I could. That's it." "When?" "Treyan was the first time." He didn't seem surprised. "And again on Selti." He raised an eyebrow. "Before that." She said, remembering the dampness on her cheek, the knowledge of something shared. She didn't need to say it. Chakotay nodded. "When are we supposed to send you back, then?" "There's no end date to my mission." "Why haven't you reported more? I've told you about our missions, you've certainly had enough to relay." She'd felt naked the first time he'd interrogated her, when they met. It seemed oddly appropriate that she actually was naked now, as he questioned her again. Kathryn didn't quite know why he hadn't ratted her out before, especially if he'd known from the beginning. And it made the fact that he'd bedded - walled? - her, even stranger. But she probably wasn't in the position to ask those questions, so she answered his instead. "I haven't known what to say." It was true. If she reported on their efforts to help local people in the area rebuild, Starfleet would put a stop to it. But she'd been helping those people too. She'd met with them, laughed with them, cried with them. She broke bread with them and slept in their houses. She got to know their children and their elders and anything left of their cultures. She'd seen what they were up against and taking away the only people willing and able to help hadn't been something she could bring herself to do. Of course, she could have reported on the Maquis raids, but watching Chakotay after he'd liberated a Cardassian rape camp had made it hard to find true error with his actions, especially since she'd almost been a guest of one herself. They didn't specifically hunt anyone down, didn't trade for anything illegal, they didn't fire unless they had to and, for the most part, they were just trying to help. It was also true that they were a pain in Starfleet's collective asses, but that was political, not humanitarian. The Brass at Starfleet, the people that had ordered her out here, didn't know what was really going on. She wasn't under any illusions as to what they would actually do if they did know, but that was a moot point because she wasn't going to be the one that informed them. Which meant she really, really sucked at her job, but she could live with that. Could Chakotay? "I guess you'll have more to tell them, now." She also had to decide if she even wanted to. When had things gotten this complicated? Kathryn studied her hands, the blanket tucked under her arms. "I guess so." *** She didn't quite understand why her political admissions with Chakotay hadn't changed anything, but Kathryn was almost grateful. He didn't shoot her, didn't call for backup, didn't threaten her, didn't even tell her to keep her mouth shut. He'd suggested that she had more to say to Starfleet now and then he'd been called to the Bridge, leaving her in his bed, lost in her own head. He'd kissed her cheek before he left and Kathryn hadn't been in the right mind to analyse it. Now, three days after the fact, her mind was still swimming in circles. Nothing had changed. After the incident with The Dakota, they'd continued on to answer the distress call they'd received. They'd picked up the forty odd Maquis there, stranded after their ship had crashed. A close call with Cardassians, the Captain had said. The Liberty, despite its small size, ferried all of the survivors to Soten, a small, but slowly thriving colony of a range of people. There was no specific culture there, no specific language, and no specific structure to the social order. It seemed to be the place to go when you didn't have a better option. After staying on Soten for two nights - during neither of which Chakotay visited her for anything - they returned to the ship and headed back toward Menth for another trade. Half of the Maquis from the downed ship, The Croll, had asked to stay with the Liberty crew. They didn't have the room, but no one in the Maquis had ever been in the position to turn down able bodied people, so they'd found themselves living in tight quarters. Kathryn found herself sleeping on the floor in B'Elanna's room. A lot of the crew were doubling - and tripling - to make room for the newcomers and she hadn't wanted to ask Chakotay. They hadn't really spoken at all since the admissions in his quarters. He'd left for the Bridge and she'd made her way there not long after. Once the rescue had taken place and the Croll's crew settled, Kathryn had spent her time trying to find somewhere for them all to sleep. Chakotay hadn't sought her out for a conversation and Kathryn hadn't made the effort, either. Which was pretty damn weird, and not really a testament to his leadership skills. She was a known traitor, someone that was working for the enemy, but he hadn't done a thing about it. Hadn't restricted her access to the ship's systems, hadn't questioned her further, just trusted that she hadn't told Starfleet anything and ran with it. Having said that, he claimed to have known her loyalties from the beginning and he'd trusted her then, so why was she surprised? Hell, if anything, she was the one questioning her own loyalties. He appeared to know something she didn't. "Are you going to sleep or are you going to lay there and huff all night?" "Sorry." Kathryn wasn't usually a bad roommate but apparently she had a lot on her mind. "I'm just thinking." B'Elanna grunted. "Either go and screw him already or go to sleep. Your thinking is too damn loud and I have engines to repair in the morning." She didn't bother with the engine comment. "We've had that discussion before." "Yep. You were full of shit then and you are now. I'm not stupid." "I never suggested you were." "I can see what's in front of me, Kathryn." She paused, the darkness making the silence feel lengthier than it really was. "Can you?" She mused that B'Elanna couldn't really see what was in front of her, since she hadn't tried to kill Kathryn for betraying them. Of course, the young woman was probably far clueier than her in most other areas. Could she see what was in front of her? Perhaps more to the point, did she want to? The tangent thoughts stayed with her for the rest of the night, keeping her from anything resembling restful sleep. In the morning, she'd be cranky and tired with a headache from hell, but she had a feeling she'd be no close to a solution. She wasn't even really sure what the problem was, sometimes. *** There was always a ship in the Maquis that needed people. For a vessel to be overly full was an oddity, which was exactly what the Liberty had been as it ferried the Croll crew around for two weeks. Kathryn got used to sleeping on B’Elanna’s floor. B'Elanna got used to her huffing throughout the night. If the replicators had worked more often, she would have gotten some earplugs. There was no real end date for the shared quarters, though, mostly because no one really knew if the Croll crew would stay with them, find another ship to move to, or settle somewhere. It wasn't something that anyone asked, they just carried on regardless. A few of them stayed on the various planets they passed, but after the two weeks, there were still seventeen additional crew on the already cramped Liberty. When they encountered the Maquis ship Tralia, it wasn't long after they, in something not much bigger than the Liberty, had been in something of a run in with a Cardassian ship run by Gul Evek. Kathryn didn't know him, personally, but from what Captain Naljour said, that was probably a good thing. Though death was something that was generally accepted as part of life in the Maquis, it rattled them all nonetheless. It was more luck than good management that Naljour needed crew and the Liberty had an excess. The seventeen Croll crew and three of the Liberty jumped ship and moved over to Tralia. Kathryn hadn't gotten to know many of them all that well, so saying goodbye was more awkward than sad for her. She waited until the crew had all been beamed off the ship before she sought out Chakotay. He still hadn't spoken to her at all since the revelation in his quarters, at least nothing beyond words pertaining to their mission. She didn't approach him and he didn't approach her in regards to anything personal. It was good, in a way. But, by the same token, it also meant that she spent the majority of her time wondering what the hell was going on and what the hell she was supposed to do. And it was time to end that. He was on the Bridge, B'Elanna too, when she found him. Kathryn opened her mouth to request a meeting - and she didn't care what her former roommate would think of it - when the Liberty jolted and she hit the deck with less grace than she'd ever thought possible. Climbing into her chair, she heard Chakotay swear. "Apparently Evek is back for round two." The Liberty shook violently again. "And he doesn't seem to care that we weren't involved in round one." The shaking didn't stop. "Damage report." Kathryn scanned the readout quickly. "Shields at sixty percent." "A fuel line has ruptured. Attempting to compensate." B'Elanna's hands danced over the console quickly, loud beeps punctuating the air, smoke beginning to cloud the bridge. "Damn it! We're barely maintaining impulse. I can't get anymore out of it." Chakotay didn't even look at her as he tried to keep the Liberty out of the line of fire. "Be creative!" She snorted, despite the seriousness of the situation. "How am I supposed to be creative with a thirty nine year old rebuilt engine?" The view screen above Chakotay's head flickered to life, but when they heard the voice on the other end, it was mostly ignored. "Maquis ship, this is Gul Evek of the Cardassian Fourth Order. Cut your engines and prepare to surrender or we will-" Chakotay terminated the link and kept his concentration on the helm. "Initiating evasive pattern omega. Mark." "Shields at fifty percent." B'Elanna shook her head. "I need more power if we're going to make it to the Badlands." When the badlands became their best option, they all knew they were in trouble. Ships stayed away from that area with damn good reason. Hopefully Evek would be intimidated enough by the dangerous region of space to leave them alone. If not... well, it would be a moot point by then anyway. "Take the weapons offline. We'll transfer all power to the engines." Kathryn's eyebrows shot up at the suggestion. "You really think that's wise?" "What does it matter? We're not making a dent in their shields anyway!" B'Elanna turned her attention back to Chakotay. "You wanted creative." "Kathryn, shut down all the phaser banks. If you can give us another thirty seconds at full impulse, I'll get us into the Badlands." She tapped the required commands quickly. "Phasers off line." "Throw the last photons at them and then give me the power from the torpedo system." "Firing photons." The blasts made contact with the other ship and the Liberty lurched. There was silence for a moment before Chakotay spoke. "Are you reading any plasma storms ahead?" "One." She confirmed. "Co-ordinates one seven one, mark four three." He nodded. "That's where I'm going." "Plasma storm density increasing by fourteen percent. Twenty." She watched the number climb higher and higher... "Twenty five." "Hold on!" Chakotay's shout was barely heard. The Liberty creaked and shuddered, betraying its age and condition as they fought their way into the storm. Kathryn struggled to have her voice heard, too. "The Cardassian ship is not reducing power. They're following us in." "Gul Evek must feel daring today." The three of them watched in silence as part of the storm struck Evek's ship. Kathryn didn't feel any kind of sympathy; she knew that he would have happily seen the same happen to the Liberty. "They've taken a hit on their port blade." She read. "They're sending out a distress signal on all Cardassian frequencies." Chakotay turned and met her eyes. "Can you plot a course through these plasma fields?" "Storm activity is typically widespread in this area." She shrugged a little. "I can plot a course, but we'll be taking the scenic route." "We can use the time to make some repairs." B'Elanna looked thrilled. At least Seska - who, pain in Kathryn's ass or not, was a good engineer - was back with them to help. Kathryn wondered if 'time to make repairs' would mean both to the Liberty and whatever was left of her... affiliation with the Maquis. They'd have to discuss it at some point. Before her mind had a chance to start imaging the conversation, something passed over them. Every console blacked out for a split second before they came back on. Chakotay frowned. "What was that?" "We've just passed through some kind of coherent tetryon beam." Kathryn replied. "No idea where it came from, but there's a massive displacement wave moving toward us." "Another storm?" "It's not a plasma phenomenon." She scanned her console furiously, searching for answers. "It'll hit in less than thirty seconds." "Anything left in those impulse generators, B'Elanna?" The brunette shrugged helplessly. "We'll find out." "Maximum power." He ordered. Kathryn shook her head. "The wave is continuing to accelerate. It'll reach us in eight seconds. Five. Fo-" *** They were disorientated at best. She remembered counting down the wave's time to intercept, but then she remembered odd things. Flashes. A farm. People. Music. Corn and bread. Lemonade. Being strapped to a bed. Probes entering her skin. Crying out. Pain. Being naked. Her arms aching. The screams of the crew. Frowning, Kathryn looked around the Bridge, trying to make sense of the frazzled memories. Chakotay was slumped forward but he was conscious, rubbing the back of his neck with a groan. "You okay?" "Yeah." She croaked. "Liberty?" "Functioning. Barely." She looked around the rest of the small room. "Where's B'Elanna?" "Not here." Kathryn checked her console. She'd convinced them to implement a communication system that was something akin to the Starfleet way; if there was an attack, everyone sent a message to the Bridge for the proverbial head count. "Everyone else has checked in." He groaned again. "Is there any good news?" "There’s no sign of Evek nearby." Chakotay laughed, but it wasn't hearty and it didn't last long. "Point taken." "However," Kathryn continued, blinking back the surprise at what she saw in front of her, "there is a Federation ship." "Your reinforcements?" Well... "Sort of." The view screen flicked to life. "Commander Chakotay. I am acting-Captain Tuvok." Chakotay eyed the dark Vulcan in uniform, gold across his shoulders. "How do you know my name?" "We were on a mission to find you when we were brought here by the array." He cocked his head to the side. "One of our crewmen is missing. Was he transported back to your ship by accident?" "No. A member of our crew is missing too. B'Elanna Torres, my engineer." "Commander, you and I have the same problem. It would be logical to try and solve it together, don't you agree? "Three of us will transport to your ship." Chakotay cut the link and turned to her. "Know him?" She wasn't going to lie, there wasn't much point. "Yes." "Want to fill me in?" "He's Captaining Voyager. I suspect he was looking for me." "Why would he be doing that?" "Because I haven't reported to Starfleet." She paused and took a deep breath. "And that's my ship." Chakotay raised an eyebrow, the surprise clearly evident on his face. The ship off their port bow was clearly advanced, potentially the best there was. "Yours?" "Her name is Voyager. This is her maiden voyage." "I'll bring the champagne then." Chakotay stood. "Get Ayala and meet me in the transporter room." Kathryn nodded and followed him off the Bridge. Jor took her place, not that the Liberty was likely to be headed anywhere any time soon. She found Ayala, ironically in the very corridor she'd first met him in. Did that mean her Maquis days had come full circle? "Chakotay wants you with us." "Field trip?" "We're going to the Federation ship." "Why?" "B'Elanna's missing." Ayala didn't need any convincing beyond that. "Let's go." When they met again in the transporter room, they were beamed onto the Bridge of Voyager. Ayala had wanted to go in armed to the teeth, Chakotay had told him not to bother. Tuvok was standing expectantly, his hands clasped behind his back. If he was known for smiling, he probably would have offered one. "It is good to have you back, Captain." Chakotay didn't say anything, Ayala looked like he might want to snap her neck as he glared at her. "Were you going to deliver us into their waiting hands, Kathryn?" She probably should have warned him before, but there hadn't been time. Now, she had the eyes of the entire bridge crew - her crew - staring at her. Eyes full of accusation from Ayala were going to be the least of her problems soon enough. "My mission was to gather information on Maquis activities. And then deliver you into their waiting hands, yes." Chakotay looked past her. "And you had help." Kathryn turned, following his line of sight to where Tom Paris stood. So Tuvok had been able to recruit him. Good. It had been one of the things she'd requested when they'd offered her the Captaincy of Voyager. Tom had been in the Maquis and could have been useful for that alone. Aside from that, Kathryn had known him when he was younger and she hated that he'd wasted his life and ended up in prison. Tom stepped off the upper deck and walked towards them, "It's good to see you both too." "At least she was doing her duty as a Starfleet officer." Chakotay took a menacing step forward, his eyes flashing. "But you... you betrayed us for what? Freedom from prison? Latinum? What was your price this time?" Automatically, Kathryn put a hand on his chest, sliding her body against his, keeping him from being able to reach Paris, her voice hard when she spoke. "You're speaking to a member of my crew. I expect you to treat him with the same respect as you would have me treat a member of yours." He looked down at her and his eyes flashed. She'd been sleeping with him for almost four months; she recognized the blatant desire and felt her body flush in response. Now wasn't the time, though, they had bigger fish to fry than the hard on she could feel stirring against her belly. If only... She stepped back from the heat. "We have a lot to accomplish, and I suggest we all concentrate on finding our people and getting ourselves back home." "Based on my initial reconnaissance, Captain, I am convinced we are dealing with a single entity in the array. I would suggest that he scanned our computers in order to select a comfortable holographic environment. In effect, a waiting room to pacify us prior to biometric assessment." It explained what she remembered. Chakotay cocked an eyebrow. "An examination?" "It is the most logical explanation. Why else would he have released us unharmed?" "Not all of us were." Paris reminded them. Kathryn frowned. "Who else is missing?" "Harry Kim." Kim. Ensign. Fresh from the Academy. As green as they came. She'd spoken to his mother when he'd been given Voyager as his first assignment, before she'd been commissioned to jump teams and go in to bat for the Maquis. First mission and he was missing? Shit. "Break out the compression phaser rifles. Meet us in Transporter Room Two. We're going back. We'll divide into teams. Mr. Tuvok, while Chakotay and I are looking for Torres and Kim, your job is to find out as much about this array as you can. It brought us here, we have to assume it can send us home. Agreed?" She didn't bother to wait for conformation. She wasn't wearing their uniform, but they knew who was boss. "Keep us on constant transporter locks.” Paris stopped her as she moved to step past him and enter the turbolift. "Captain. I'd like to go with you." "If this has something to do with what Chakotay said..." "It doesn't." She didn't point out that he'd cut her off. "I'd just... I'd hate to see anything happen to Harry." She had a feeling that he'd made a friend while she had been off making her own. She nodded. "Come on." *** They materialized on the farm that Kathryn had only vaguely remembered before. Tuvok was reading his tricorder even as she was examining her surroundings visually. "There are no humanoid life forms indicated, Captain. Kim and Torres are not within tricorder range. They may not be on the array." Chakotay pointed to an old man sitting in a lone wood chair, quietly strumming a banjo. "He can tell us where they are." She nodded and addressed Tuvok. "Keep looking around. Maintain your comm. link. I don't want to lose anyone else." Chakotay walked at her side as they headed toward the old man. He didn't say anything and she didn't either. They needed to talk - about a plethora of things - but now wasn't the time and she needed to keep her focus. The old man sighed heavily when he saw them approach. "Oh, why have you come back? You don't have what I need." "I don't know what you need and frankly I don't care." Kathryn snapped automatically, her hands moving to her hips. "I just want our people back and I want us all to be sent home." He didn't look particularly startled. "Oh, well, now. Aren't you contentious for a minor bipedal species?" "This minor bipedal species doesn't take kindly to being abducted." She fired back. "Oh, it was necessary." Chakotay stepped in then, possibly to keep her from killing the man. Assuming he could be killed, that was. "Where are our people?" "They are no longer here." "What have you done to them?" She demanded. "You don't have what I need. They might." The old man shrugged. "No, you'll have to leave them." "We won't do that." Chakotay answered. "We are their commanding officers. We are entrusted with their safety. They are our responsibility. That may be a concept you don't understand." Kathryn elaborated. "Oh, no. I do understand, but I have no choice. There just is not enough time left." God, he was frustrating. "Left for what?" "I must honour a debt that can never be repaid, but my search has not been going well. "Tell us what you're looking for." Time for a different tactic, she decided. "Maybe we can help you find it." "You?" He laughed. "I've searched the galaxy with methods beyond your comprehension. No, there is nothing you can do." "You've taken us seventy thousand light years from our home." A fact that Tuvok had revealed en route to the transporter room and not one she was particularly fond of. "We have no way back unless you send us, and we won't leave without the others." "But sending you back is terribly complicated. Don't you understand? I don't have time. Not enough time!" He waved his arm and Kathryn found herself standing back on Voyager's bridge, exchanging confused looks with everyone around her. If nothing else, at least the rest of the team had returned with her. *** The quarters were huge, she realized. Ridiculously huge. Her bathroom was bigger than her old quarters. Hell, her bathtub was bigger than her old bunk. It was a mansion compared to what she'd gotten used to. Kathryn looked around the large living area, the bedroom that was bigger than the Bridge on the Liberty, the bathroom. A lot of her personal belongings were already there - she'd had them packed and ready to be transported to Voyager - but none of the object felt like hers anymore. On the startlingly clean vanity sat a neatly folded uniform. Her uniform. She should have been glad, except the thought of retiring her comfortable leathers - and even more comfortable shoes - made her want to cry a little more than was adult. She considered that wearing the leathers might endear her to the Maquis, but it would alienate her from the Starfleet. The crew was new. She knew Tuvok, of course, had done for years. And Paris, but not nearly as well. But the rest were mostly unfamiliar, aside from the reports she'd barely had time to skim before leaving for Neli. She knew she should suck it up and put the damn uniform on. Suck it up and go back to the headache-inducing bun of steel. She'd miss her braid. She was going to take her first step by making a log. She hadn't done that on Voyager yet. Hadn't done it on the Liberty, either. "Captain's log," damn it was weird to say that, "Stardate 48315.6. We've traced the energy pulses from the array to the fifth planet of the neighbouring system and believe they may have been used in some fashion to transport Kim and B'Elanna to the planet's surface." Fingering the rough fabric of the uniform, Kathryn sighed. "We're en route, but it will take a few hours to reach it. Chakotay has returned to the Liberty, along with Ayala, but we've remained in contact." Only in the most professional way possible, though. The red alert sounded before she could finish her log or start changing, so she headed for the bridge; leathers, braid and all. *** The red alert had been for a small, somewhat rickety, cargo ship. The sole occupant was a spotted creature that appeared to be on drugs. When a comm. link was established, Kathryn found herself looking at a whole pile of... junk. The druggie ran around madly, pulling bits and pieces off the view screen and throwing them aimlessly behind him. "Whoever you are, I found this waste zone first." "We're not interested in this debris, Mr.?" "Neelix." The scowl on his face quickly turned into a jubilant smile. "And since you're not interested in my debris, well, I'm delighted to know you." "Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager." She couldn't call herself Captain, but she knew she should have. "A very impressive title." She smiled her thanks. "Do you know this area of space well, Mister Neelix?" His chest fairly puffed out. "I am famous for knowing it well. How may I be of service?" "Do you know anything about the array that's sending energy pulses to the fifth planet?" "I know enough to stay as far away from it as possible." He narrowed his eyes at her, frowned and sighed. "Let me guess. You were whisked away from somewhere else in the galaxy, and brought here against your will." At least he didn't think she was nuts. "Sounds as though you've heard this story before." "Sadly, yes. Thousands of times. Well, hundreds of times." He paused. "Maybe fifty times. The Caretaker has been bringing ships here for months now." "The Caretaker?" "That's what the Ocampa call him." Was he the banjo player? "They live on the fifth planet. Did he kidnap members of your crew?" "As a matter of fact, he did." Neelix shrugged. "It's not the first time." "Do you know where he might have taken them?" When he smiled, Kathryn felt a wave of relief. Oddly, he was the best thing that had happened to them all day. She agreed to a trade; his navigation and knowledge for their water. They beamed him to Voyager - which was a bit of an ordeal of itself - and Tuvok reported that he'd ordered the newcomer to bathe before he did anything else. Kathryn had quietly snickered; Vulcan's were sensitive to smell, but usually more diplomatic about it than that. Neelix must have been really rank. While Neelix was enjoying his bath, something Kathryn almost envied despite herself, she moved to the Ready Room. Hers. Though it didn't feel like it. She'd only been in there once, before she'd gone in search of her Quarters. Tuvok had given her his report on their mission so far. He told her about getting Paris out of New Zealand. He told her about their pitt stop on Deep Space 9. How Starfleet had thought that she might have been compromised when she hadn't contacted them for two months. Kathryn had flushed, not offering an explanation. Tuvok, wonderful man that he is, had carried on smoothly, ignoring her lack of answers. He'd given her a report on the dead. Cavit, her first officer that she'd met twice and hadn't been fond of, but certainly hadn't wished dead. Her Chief Medical Officer and all of the medical staff. Her Chief engineer. He'd told her everything before she'd excused herself to go and find her Quarters. Now, alone in the Ready Room, she took a moment to really look around. It was so... grey. The Liberty hadn't exactly been pinstripes in blues and greens - which she'd said to Chakotay one night, trying to make him laugh - but it had still somehow seemed to possess cheerier decor. Impressive for a ship run by renegades, she mused. Moving to sit behind the desk, she activated the computer there and established a link with the Liberty. She reasoned that she had to tell him about Neelix, about what they'd learnt, what the plan was, but she knew that some simple part of her just missed him. He was on the bridge, which was exactly what she'd expected given that no other view screen worked on the Liberty. She was surprised that he was alone, though. It was a startling reminder that she wasn't there and things had changed in a big way. Shouldn't she have been happy about that? "Captain?" He asked. "Kathryn." She corrected, only because she couldn't look at him without remembering and thinking and feeling, damnit. They stared at each other, neither speaking for several long moments. Chakotay finally shrugged a little. "So." "So." She repeated dumbly, mentally shaking herself. "We've beamed the owner of that cargo ship onto Voyager. His name is Neelix... interesting gentleman. He knows this region and he knows about the Caretaker." "Caretaker." She filled him in quickly, telling him everything they knew. When she didn't have anything else officious to say, she resumed staring at him. It wasn't professional and it wasn't appropriate but she couldn't quite help herself and he didn't seem to be able to, either. The hail from the Bridge to tell her that they'd reached the Ocampan home world put a stop to their staring match. She told Chakotay to meet her on Voyager and she signed off quickly. She called for the away team to assemble as she hurried back to her quarters. Not taking a moment to think, she stripped off the leathers, leaving them scattered in her living room. She pulled on the Starfleet uniform, feeling it's stiffness before she'd even finished dressed. She didn't have enough time to bother with her hair, so the braid would do, but the uniform would be a symbolic gesture for her crew as well as the people she was about to meet. *** Meeting the Kazon wasn't something she wanted to do again any time soon. They were, if nothing else, an... interesting race of people. Neelix had taken them to the planet's surface to trade water for, as it had turned out, his love interest, Kes. Normally, Kathryn wouldn't have taken kindly to being duped, but Kes was Ocampan - the very race the caretaker was 'protecting', apparently - and they needed all of the help they could get. Jabin, the Kazon that she'd been 'negotiating' with - if it could even be called that - had tried to take them hostage. Perhaps instinctively, Chakotay had stepped in front of her, and the Kazon's eyes had flash with something. Understanding, perhaps. Kathryn hadn't had time to analyse the response before Neelix held a phaser at his throat, negotiating to let Kes and the crew go. When they'd returned to Voyager, Kes had told them more about the underground city her people inhabited. If B'Elanna and Kim were on the planet, that was where they'd be. The young woman had agreed to help them, grateful for the escape from the Kazon. Tuvok had theorized that the increased activity of the Array might have been indicative of Caretaker dying; he was clearly attempting to give them a surplus of power that would sustain the Ocampa after he was gone. Whatever his reasoning, they didn’t seem to have a lot of time to rescue their people; the Array began firing a weapon at the planet to seal up all of the energy conduits, the tunnels that provide the only access to the city. It would protect the Ocampa, but also prevent people escaping. Though they had been able to beam down underground, but communications hadn't worked. After searching the city, they decided that their missing crew had probably been trying to escape themselves, the same way Kes had. They were being led by Kes down the tunnels when they ran, quite literally into B'Elanna and Kim. They were both pale and clammy, wearing white medical gowns, but they were alive and able to move, so that was a good sign and they couldn't ask for much more than that. When Paris told her that they should head back as fast as they could, calling her Captain, B'Elanna had shot her a very clear look. She hadn't had time to comment, though. The walls of the tunnels around them shuddered as the Caretaker's blasts got faster and faster. There were metal walkways built all around, but they were shaking violently under the force. One particularly brutal blast was the end of it and Kathryn watched with horror as two parts of the walkway snapped, one whole section falling to the ground, the other bent down at an odd angle. Chakotay and Paris were caught on the section that was held on by the fastenings to the wall and little else. Kathryn stood at the top of the bent section and met Chakotay's pained eyes. "My leg is broken." He gasped. "I can't move." "Hold on." She had no idea what she could do. Turning, she watched as Harry's legs gave out on him. "Neelix, help me with Mister Kim." "I'll get Chakotay." Paris promised. She nodded, trusting the baby blue eyes. They had to get the others out of there and, regardless of the fact that Chakotay was injured, they were still moving the slowest. Forcing herself not to look back, she helped the others, finally making it to the surface. They called for a beam out and she waited anxiously in transporter room one for almost ten minutes before Paris and Chakotay materialized behind her. She accompanied them to sickbay under the guise that they all needed to be checked out. The holographic Doctor, that was officially the best Voyager had at that point, had only just finished re-setting Chakotay's bone and running the osteo-regenerator over his leg when Rollins hailed from the bridge. "Bridge to Janeway." She tapped her comm. badge, her eyes not leaving the man on the bio bed. "Go ahead." "Captain, two Kazon ships are approaching the array." "Set a course." She met Chakotay's eyes. "I'm on my way." "We've got to get back to our ship." He agreed, rolling himself from the bed. "I strongly advise you to rest." The EMH protested. "I will not be held responsible for the consequences!" They all ignored him as they left. *** She'd had a pissing contest with Jabin, sent Chakotay and the Liberty to battle the Kazon, beamed herself back to the array and tried to negotiate with the alien entity that was responsible for stranding them. A man - thing? - that had, in all simplicity, just been trying to mate and create a spawn to care for the Ocampa. What a day. The caretaker eyed her, barely responding to her plea for help as she put forward their case. "Oh, I wish I could but I have very little time left, so I have initiated a self-destruct programme." There was a sharp pain in her chest. "If you destroy the array, we'll have no way to get home." "The Ocampa's enemies can not be allowed to... to control this installation. In minutes, it will be destroyed. You have to go." His weak eyes implored her. "Go now." The array shook and she tapped her comm. badge. "Voyager, report." "Kazon vessel just collided with the array, Captain." Paris' voice replied. "Are you all right?" "Affirmative. Stand by." She closed the link and looked to Tuvok as he stood, scanning the console in the wall. The Caretaker was dying before their eyes, his voice thready. "The self-destruct programme has been damaged. Now this installation will not be destroyed. But it must be. The Kazon must not be allowed to gain control of it." They watched with wide eyes as the old man shrivelled and condensed into little more than a clump of rock. His last sentence sounded like it cam from the very air around them. "They will annihilate the Ocampa." "Shall I activate the programme to get us back?" Tuvok asked. "And what happens to the Ocampa after we're gone?" "Captain. Any action we take to protect the Ocampa would affect the balance of power in this system." He raised an eyebrow in a very Vulcan way. "The Prime Directive would seem to apply." "Would it? We never asked to be involved, Tuvok, but we are." She thought of the Maquis and how similar their story was to the way she felt right now. "We are." I am. *** When they returned to the Bridge, Chakotay was there and Kathryn found herself ridiculously glad to see him. The shaken transporter operator had told her what had happen; he'd used the Liberty to, quite literally, ram into the side of the Kazon ship that had been firing on the array. She didn't let the gladness show, though, as she moved to stand in front of her command chair while Tuvok moved to the security station. "Tuvok, ready the Tricobalt devices." "Aye, Captain." She turned to Kim, who looked a little worse for wear, but not as bad as he could have. "Open a channel to the Kazon." "Channel open." He acknowledged. Jabin appeared on the view screen. "Be advised, Captain. I have called for additional ships." "I'm calling to warn you to move your vessels to a safe distance." She told him evenly. "I intend to destroy the array." He glared at her. "You can't do that!" She shrugged a little. "I can and I will. End transmission." "They're firing at us, Captain." Kim called. "Shields are holding." She nodded. "Move us four hundred kilometres from the array, Mister Paris." "Yes, ma'am." B'Elanna stepped forward then. "What do you think you're doing? That array is the only way we have to get back home!" Kathryn shook her head. "I'm aware everyone has families and loved ones at homes they want to get back to. So do I. But I'm not willing to trade the lives of the Ocampa for our convenience. We'll have to find another way home." "What other way home is there?" She turned to Chakotay, who stood silently beside her. "Who is she to be making these decisions for all of us?" She glared. "Who is she to tell us what to do?" "She's the Captain." Chakotay's voice dropped. "Trust her. She didn't rat us out to Starfleet. I don't think she'll screw us now." "No, just you." B'Elanna spat back. "You're making a mistake trusting her again." "The Liberty is in a billion pieces." He snapped. "You got a better idea?" Tuvok's voice silenced whatever idea the angry woman might have offered. Kathryn was almost glad. "The Tricobalt devices are ready." Paris didn't look behind him as he called, "We're in position." If her heart was breaking, she couldn't tell over the thrum of blood screaming through her body. "Fire." Kathryn watched as the array was hit with their blasts. She watched it fall away before her eyes, taking their way home with it. Kim was the first to speak. "The lead Kazon ship is hailing us." "On screen." Jabin appeared once more, scowling. "You have made an enemy today." The view screen flicked off and Tuvok spoke. "They are withdrawing, Captain." "Thank you." She took a shuddering breath. "Chakotay, would you join me?" *** He followed her silently into the Ready Room. She suspected that B'Elanna was shooting daggers at her back the whole way, but that was something she'd try to deal with later. She was too numb from everything that had happened. She was trying her hardest not to think about the Caretaker and just get through what was left of the day. They stood on opposite sides of her desk, not quite meeting each other's eyes. Chakotay spoke first. "Are you okay?" Kathryn wasn't quite sure what she could say to that. "I will be." "I guess we've got a problem now." "A few." Kathryn wasn't going to waste time. They had too much history for that. "I think you should be the First Officer. We both know we'll have to work together to get home." "You want to run a 'fleet ship." He guessed. "It wouldn't work if we ran a Maquis ship." She replied. "It worked well on the Liberty." Her mind flashed through her itinerary of memories - people calling her given name, fucking herself on Chakotay, them using each others' bodies, laughing and drinking on downtime - and she was more than certain that it wouldn't work. But she wasn't going to remind him of those events. "This isn't the Liberty." He eyed her uniform pointedly. "I noticed." "Chakotay," She started, stopped, sighed and started again. "We have a lot of work to do. We have a lot of confused people out there that are holding their breath on what happens in here." "I'm aware of that." "Do you have a better plan?" He gestured to the chair and, when she nodded, he sat, waiting for her to do the same. "We have to work together. We don't have a choice there." The Liberty was gone. If it was possible, her heart sank that little bit further. He continued, "But the Maquis don't want to be 'Fleet. You know that." She did. For a while, she'd thought she was beginning to feel the same. She wasn't entirely convinced that she still didn't. "The Starfleet crew wouldn't be in a hurry to change into leathers." "You were." He said quietly. She ignored it. "I can't force the Maquis to do anything. At the end of the day, what you wear is irrelevant. What you do, however..." "I've got no plans for mutiny, Kathryn." She hadn't really thought he did. "As you said, we have to work together." "They'll follow your rules. None of them will like it for a while, but they will do it." "As long as I don't throw the uniform at them?" He offered a helpless smile. It was what it was. "Pretty much." "We're going to have a hybrid crew." She decided. "With hybrid rules." Kathryn didn't particularly want to think about protocol. It had been a while for her. "We'll work on that as we go." *** Chakotay stood in front of the XO's chair. He was still in his leathers - pants, vest, the white shirt she liked far too much - but the comm. badge on his chest looked right and she was unexplainably glad that he was by her side. B'Elanna was by the helm, alternating between glaring at Kathryn and glaring at Paris. She paced in front of him, walking back and forth. The Bridge was crowded and her comm. link was going through the ship. She wondered how many of her crew were 'meeting' her for the first time right now. "We're alone in an uncharted part of the galaxy. We've already made some friends here," She smiled at Neelix and Kes, trying to quell the nervousness that fluttered in her stomach, "and some enemies. We have no idea of the dangers we're going to face, but one thing is clear. Both crews are going to have to work together if we're to survive. That's why Commander Chakotay and I have agreed that this should be one crew. Not all of us are Starfleet, not all of us are Maquis. Some of us are both." She smiled gently. "As the only vessel assigned to the Delta Quadrant, we'll continue to follow our directive to seek out new worlds and explore space." Chakotay nodded his support. The Maquis did much the same, if not with an added involvement. "But our primary goal is clear." She continued. "Even at maximum speeds, it would take seventy five years to reach the Federation, but I'm not willing to settle for that. There's another entity like the Caretaker out there somewhere who has the ability to get us there a lot faster. We'll be looking for her, and we'll be looking for wormholes, spatial rifts, or new technologies to help us. Somewhere along this journey, we'll find a way back." Tears pricked at her eyes and she bit them back. "Mister Paris, set a course - for home." *** She knew where B'Elanna was because she'd assigned the quarters. It would have been Chakotay's job, but he'd been XO for all of forty minutes and he didn't know much about the ship yet. When she entered - and getting over the threshold had been her first hurdle, anyway - she'd found B'Elanna standing in the middle of the grey room, a bag at her feet. "It's not exactly cheerful." Kathryn started. "But there's not huffing roommate." "It's better than what we had." She shrugged. "You really slummed it on the Liberty." "That's not how it felt." "None of what you felt was real at all." B'Elanna glared. Kathryn knew she shouldn't, but she couldn’t stop her mouth opening. "Chakotay knew who I was from the start." "You told him?" "No. He figured it out and called me on it not long before Voyager arrived." There was silence for a long moment, the younger woman frowning. Finally, she sighed. "I grabbed some of your stuff when we had to leave the Liberty." B'Elanna moved and pulled Kathryn's duffel bag from behind the sofa. She held it out. Kathryn took a shaky breath, not quite sure why she was so happy to see the old thing. "Thank you." "I don't trust you." B'Elanna told her honestly. "I don't expect you to." "I know you're good at what you do, though. So I'll call your Captain." B'Elanna offered a smile. "But I'll threaten to break your nose when I have to." The Starfleet part of her wanted to sprout rules. The Maquis in her was damn proud and it won. "I wouldn't expect you any other way." *** "That was quite some Yo-Ho speech you gave." "Yo-Ho?" She repeated, not surprised to find him sitting on the sofa in her quarters. After a somewhat successful chat with B'Elanna, she'd forgone the mountain of work waiting in exchange for some sleep, finally. Bone tired and emotionally drained, Kathryn wanted her pyjamas and her bed more than her next breath. Of course, that was a crafty plan foiled by the man on her sofa. She didn’t know how he’d gotten access to her quarters, but she didn’t feel the need to ask. She’d let herself in to his private sanctum once or twice before, herself. "It was very optimistic." "It was supposed to be." She replied, pulling her jacket off, dropping it onto the nearby chair. She noted that he'd folded her previously scattered leathers, leaving them on the table. "Then why didn't you believe anything you were saying?" He asked casually. She turned. "I did." "You forget, Kathryn, I know you." There was no way she'd forgotten that. "Why are you here?" "You know why I'm here." "That can't happen now." She told him quietly. "Things are different." "You're not, though." He shrugged, standing, moving until he was in front of her. He didn't touch her, but he held her gaze and that was just as confronting as a physical connection. She shook her head, but she didn't know if she was convincing Chakotay or herself. "There are almost a hundred and fifty people on this ship. It's bigger than us." "No," he shook his head, "It's really not." "There are rules-" She started, but stopped herself. They'd already broken the rules. She'd been breaking them since her fifth week with the Maquis. Who was she kidding? "Why did you take me to bed? You said you knew who I was from the beginning. So why take the risk?" He shrugged. "I wanted to." She didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "That simple?" "That simple." He confirmed. "You might have noticed that we were very much about living for the moment in the Maquis." "I did." "I met a woman I thought was attractive and captivating and I went with it." He shrugged again, offering her a half-smile. "I wanted you. Political alliances don’t tend to count for much when you’re operating from hormones." She had to agree, but only because she’d never put up even a token fight against him. Despite the tiredness that had ingrained itself in her bones, if he wanted to discuss this, she knew that she shouldn't avoid it, if only so that they had some even footing to start their new working relationship on. But, while they were laying all of their cards on the table... "And Seska?" "Hasn't been an issue since long before you arrived." "Did you ever tell her that?" Kathryn had seen enough to know that the other woman hadn't thought of her relationship with Chakotay as 'over.' "Several times." He sighed. "She wasn't impressed when you came on the scene." Kathryn wondered how the Bajoran felt about serving under her, now, then. "She knew?" "Everyone did." They had tried to be discreet, but the Maquis were a pretty close-knit crew all things considered. A large majority of their downtime was spent sharing hotels/rooms/tents. It probably hadn't been hard to figure out, even if they did keep it off the Liberty. For the most part, at least. "Things are different now." "You said that already." She had, but only because she couldn't unequivocally state that she didn't want him - which would have ended things on the spot - and she didn't seem to have a better defence. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm right." "Yes, you are right." He looked at her, honesty written blatantly across his face. "I've never known you in uniform." She confirmed what he'd said earlier. "I'm still me, though." Chakotay grinned and, somehow, that was it. "Exactly." He kissed her and it was just too tempting and too easy to fall into his arms, losing herself in what he offered, as opposed to what she'd seen and done today. Her arms wound around his neck, the familiar taste of his mouth overwhelming her. He'd been right, she was still herself and she wanted him. He knew it, too, but he wasn't smug. He wasn't bedding the Captain, either, which may have made her choice that fraction easier. Walking her backwards, he led her into her new bedroom. There was something significant about the bed being christened with him, but she didn't let herself think on that for too long when his lips slid teasingly from her mouth, moving to her neck. Her turtleneck was pulled off carefully. He tickled her shoulders and she laughed with her head caught in the material, pulling it off with a firm tug. She was aware that her hair was a mess, but she didn't care. She'd never had to be anything but herself - for the most part, at least - with him. Chakotay fairly slid the tank and bra off. It was when he was nibbling at the underside of her breasts that she realized one important thing; he wasn't fucking her. She wasn't a warm body, this wasn't for the good orgasm. He was making love to her. Words were whispered into her skin, words she hadn't thought she'd hear from him. Before, they would have been confronting, now they were comforting, reassuring. They were the only thing she had to hang on to in her new world. He stroked her, made her cry out, made her beg. He forced her body to move to his rhythm and she didn't have a choice in the matter - not that she wanted one. When she came, it took every last ounce of energy to force a cry out, her body moving under his as he called her name. Just like he had when they were on Selti, he rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms, keeping skin to skin contact with her. Strong arms held her, protecting and cherishing her all at once. Feeling safe for the first time in too long, Kathryn closed her eyes and let the exhaustion and the tumbling endorphins from orgasm lull her to sleep. He was still there when she woke up. *** End

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