And it was that voice which awoke him, for it was his voice. Chakotay sat upright in his bed, sweat streaming down his face and neck and back. The droplets became ice as the cool air of his quarters hit them. He was burning up. And he ached. Something was wrong.

He got up, and stumbled to the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face, hoping to wash away the clinging cobwebs of the nightmare, and to bring his body back its normal condition.

"Lights," he barely whispered, as the artificial illumination came on around him. The face that stared back at him from the mirror was ashen. His dark eyes sank deep into their sockets, framed by dark grayish-purple circles. He instinctively opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out, and noted a thin gray covering over its surface.

Suddenly, he felt the need to relive himself. As his body automatically began the function, his eyes opened wide, and once more he heard the unnatural scream that he had heard in his dream. Instead of relief, he felt fire and pain. Unable to stem the progress of the stream of liquid, he bit into his lower lip as his body completed the once-begun discharge of urine.

He fell back against the wall of the small cubicle at the conclusion of the act. Sweat again was drenching him. His pulse and breathing were racing, as he attempted to regain composure.

What the hell was that? he thought as he tried to stand upright again. I feel as if someone kicked me in the groin. He washed his hands, then stuck his head under the flow of water. He reached for a towel and wiped his head. His hands were still shaking, and his knees were on the verge of giving way.

This isn’t right; I’ve got to contact the doc, he thought, as he swerved a path back into the bedroom. He found his comm badge, and hit it, his faint voice calling out.

"Chakotay to sickbay."

"This is the doctor," the smug voice of Voyager’s EMH stated. "Please state the nature of the medical emerg..."

"Doc, can you come to my quarters?" inquired an obviously agitated Chakotay.

The voice at the other end noted its recognition of the first officer.

"Commander... you sound awful! I’m going to request an emergency transport of you to sickbay... immediately!" the doctor responded in a horrified voice.

"No, please; can’t you come..." but Chakotay’s voice was cut off, as he felt the dematerialization of the transporter mechanism already reconfiguring his molecules.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first officer’s naked form rematerialized next to one of the biobeds in sickbay. The waiting EMH grabbed the sick man, just before his legs completely gave way. The doctor shifted his now-inert massive body quickly onto the waiting diagnostic table.

Chakotay’s eyes fluttered open, realizing that he was lying down in sickbay.

"Doc, I...I... don’t need to be here," he feebly stammered.

"Nonsense; you’re sick, Commander," the doctor said, as he studiously poured over the medcorder that he was tracking across and down and around the human form on the bed.

"Your body temperature is up by 1.5 degrees Celsius, and you have a greatly increased white blood cell count. And your blood electrolytes and liver enzymes are elevated outside normal ranges."

He completed his scan. He waited the computer to come up with a possible diagnosis, and looked down at his patient with a concerned scowl forming deep ridges in his forehead.

"Commander, it would appear that you have some sort of a bacterial infection. When did all of this start?"

The prone man’s shallow breathing provided a dramatic background to his answer. "I noticed nothing until I woke up a little while ago." He recounted the scene in his cabin just prior to his summoning the doctor. "It just... all of a sudden happened. Doc... my... um... my penis feels like it’s on fire."

"Hmmm..." the doctor mused, looking at whenever had popped up on the screen of his medcorder. He continued his pensiveness for a few more seconds, now tapping his chin with the diagnostic instrument.

"I would like to perform a couple of more tests. Now, I’m warning you ahead of time, they may cause you some discomfort."

"No more than what I’m feeling right now," groaned the uncomfortable man.

"Hmmm... yes. All right, I’m going to need to um... touch you for a moment, Commander," the EMH said, as he leaned over and picked up the flaccid organ of his patient and squeezed it brusquely.

"Owwwwww!!!!" the sick man howled.

"Yes... just as I thought. Commander, you have erythema and edema of the glans, with a moderate amount of urethral exudate."

"Layman’s terms, doc, please" the afflicted man groaned as he squirmed.

"You have a case of acute bacterial urethritis, Commander. Something that we haven’t seen for a long time."

Chakotay’s now inquisitive eyes focused on the EMH, as he concentrated on what the doctor had said.

"Bacterial urethritis? What is that? How did I get it?"

The doctor was preparing a hypospray as he answered.

"Hmm... well, we haven’t really had a problem with these types of infections for a couple of centuries, thanks to immunological manipulation. But, of course, those actions were based on the DNA structures of microorganisms from the Alpha Quadrant. I suppose new ones in this quadrant can always adapt... to the new, moist, warm homes our bodies provide for them," he spat out, with the priggishness of a maiden aunt.

"Just come to the point..." pleaded Chakotay, as he felt the prepared medication being administered into his neck.

"Well, far be it for me to ask personal questions, but perhaps I had better. Just in case there are... um... additional cases of this infection..."

"Doc... please talk sense! What is wrong with me?" Chakotay was taking deepening breaths, as the antibacterial substance started coursing through his body.

"You have the Delta Quadrant version of the clap, Commander... a sexually transmitted disease."

"I have what?" he half screamed, trying to sit up, but finding himself still in a weakened state.

"A sexually transmitted disease. Since the bacterium is one I have never seen, I can only assume that you have contracted it from sexual relations from a carrier here in the Delta Quadrant. And, due to its acute presentation, I would say that this contact has been... er... rather recent. Let’s just hope that Alpha Quadrant antimicrobials are as effective here..."

Chakotay was now struggling up to a sitting position, appalled at the doctor’s statement and accusation.

"Now wait a minute... how can that be? I haven’t even been close to a planet’s surface in months! Besides," he continued, his voice now taking on a very defensive tone, "I haven’t had... er... um... sexual contact with anyone in.... well, well.... well, over a year!"

"Certainly. That’s always the comeback with this diagnosis. But there is only one way a person can become infected (his eyes looked down at the ravaged organ) in that area of the body. Commander, I don’t care what you tell me, the only way for you to be in this condition is to have had contact with someone else who was infected... and that contact has probably been within the last week or so."

"Doc... I swear I haven’t even touched anyone... lately. This is just too preposterous to be real!" Chakotay half yelled, now drenched in sweat as the medication was working its action in his body.

The unruffled EMH came over to his patient, and gently pushed him back into a prone position on the biobed.

"Commander, all I am interested in is your well-being... and whether I should be alert to these symptoms in anyone else on board. Right now, you need to rest," he said pulling up the thin mylar blanket over the other man. "Please try to sleep for a while. Then, I’ll replicate some clothes for you to wear back to your quarters." He shook his head somewhat as he continued. "Of course, in women, this sort of infection frequently goes undetected. That is one reason that it can be transmitted between sexual partners; they may have the infection without knowing it.."

Chakotay sighed, and protested one more time.

"I have not had recent sexual relations with anyone on board Voyager, or anywhere else! How can I convince you of this?"

The doctor continued his sermonette. "I know that you are a caring person, Commander; you would be doing this person a favor, if she does not know that she is ill. Please be assured that anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of doctor/patient confidentiality. Besides,..."

"I give up," sighed the first officer. "All right... I had an orgy with Sam, Seven, B’Elanna and the Delaney sisters!"

"Hmmmph. I can tell you are being facetious. Well, if and when you do decide to tell me..."

"That will be all, Doctor."

"As you wish, Commander," replied the EMH as he keyed an entry into his info padd. "Of course, you do know that this will have to be reported to Captain Janeway..."

Chakotay threw back the coverlet and sat upright, his strength suddenly recuperated.

"WHAT?" he blurted.

"Well, it is a reportable communicable disease. And she must be informed to anything that might endanger the health of the crew..."

"Doc," he pleaded, "do you have to give names? Can’t you just say a crewman?"

"You know that is not possible." He looked up into Chakotay’s eyes. "But... perhaps you would want to tell her yourself..."

Chakotay was again visibly shaking. "I would rather meet B’Elanna with a bat’leth in a dark hall," he winced.

"As you wish. But, this must go into my medical report," responded the EMH, shrugging his shoulders.

Chakotay once more sank back onto the bed, filled with deepening remorse. He might as well use his "recuperation" time thinking about how he could explain this to the captain... and to himself!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doctor had forwarded his report to Captain Janeway, requesting that Chakotay be relieved from duty the following day. She read the report in her quarters before leaving for her shift.

"What?" she cried out loud, as she read the EMH’s words on the monitor screen. "What is this all about? Where has he...?" she caught herself in midsentence.

She was about to hit her comm badge, requesting Chakotay’s explanation as soon as possible, but then realized that she was reacting on a purely emotional level. Now... why is that? she wondered. There really had to be some other explanation for his infection; this was absurd...

She finished dressing, and decided to go to the mess hall before the morning shift began. Perhaps being with other people would take her mind off its irrational thoughts.

She exited the turbolift, and forced a smile as she saw Neelix talking with Tuvok, who was sitting alone at one of the tables. She hurriedly walked over to them.

"Good morning, Captain," grinned Neelix. "You are looking quite lovely today."

Her smile quickly became a more somber expression. "I wish I could say that I felt lovely," she sighed.

"Is there a problem, Captain?" asked Tuvok, with his usual concern.

"No... no; not really. It’s just a little personal thing that I must rise above," she recountered.

"Indeed," the tall Vulcan noted.

Neelix proffered the half-full coffee pot he was holding. "Well, I’m certain that a nice, fresh cup of hot coffee will help you feel better," he said, not even asking her if she wanted some of the beverage, while pouring a large cup even as he spoke.

Her smile broke through again, this time with honest sincerity.

"Neelix... you have read my very need. Thank you so much. And say... do you have any of those braxinberry muffins left from yesterday?"

"Just for you, Captain," he answered, as he skittered away to find one for her.

She sighed, as she cautiously sipped the hot liquid in her cup. She knew that Tuvok was not going to repeat his question of concern, but she sensed that he did want her to vent her problems with him. He sat patiently, waiting for her decision.

After several sips of the invigorating beverage had spurred her on, she looked at her old friend.

"Even when you think you know a person, there is always a chance that you really don’t," she stated without preface.

"I beg your pardon?" Tuvok responded.

She shook her head from side to side, as she picked up the cup again. She held the mug between both of her hands, studying the reflections playing off the surface of the liquid.

"I feel betrayed, Tuvok. But I have no rational reason for such feelings."

The Vulcan raised his right eyebrow.

"Betrayed? By whom? In what way?"

"That’s just it. I can’t really say in what way. And by whom?" she stopped short and looked up at him. "A friend. A person whom I thought I could trust."

The security officer sat up even straighter. "Captain... have I done something to offend you? Certainly I have no recollection of any..."

She waved her hand in a negative signal.

"No, no; certainly not you; you would never..."

Tuvok studied her, then ventured a logical conclusion. "Has Commander Chakotay done something that has upset you?"

Janeway’s face turned crimson. "I never could keep anything from you, Tuvok. Yes... there is something in the doctor’s daily report, regarding the Commander..."

"He is not ill, is he?" he asked her solicitously.

Her mouth took on that little crooked smile of hers. "Not really. But he may be ready for sickbay again after I have had a little talk with him..."

The Vulcan became more serious than usual.

"Captain, I do not like to interfere with the personal affairs of others. I know that you and the Commander... hold each other in high esteem. Why would you be angry with him if he is ill?"

She looked up at him and started to answer.

"He cheated on me," she said matter-of-factly.

"Pardon me?" asked the Vulcan.

Janeway knew she had said too much.

"Never mind. Forget it," she said. "Ah, here comes Neelix with that muffin!"

"And I found some frugmint preserves, also. Nothing too good for our captain!" the diminutive Talaxian said beaming, knowing that they were two of her favorites.

"You’re too good to me, Neelix," she said, again thanking him profusely.

She offered part of her breakfast treasure to Tuvok, which he politely refused. In spite of her desire for the delectable treat, she barely touched it. She finished the rest of the coffee, and then turned to Tuvok.

"Shall we go?"

They swiftly walked across to the turbolift in silence. "Not a word of this to anyone, Tuvok."

"Of course not," he responded, staring straight ahead at the closed doors, not fully understanding what it was that he was not supposed to disclose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chakotay was back in his quarters, feeling much better physically, but more desolate than ever emotionally. He knew that Kathryn had read the doctor’s report by now; why hadn’t she contacted him? Her lack of communication bothered him more than if she had called him right away and given him a piece of her Irish temper.

He also knew that the doctor stood his ground in his diagnosis; why, he himself had looked up references in the ship’s medical databases and saw that his symptoms and the type of infective agent pointed to only one conclusion. But, he also knew that the last woman with whom he had had intimate physical contact was Riley Frazier... and that had been over a year ago. Could it be that she had carried some microorganism... something Borg-like (he shivered at that thought!)... that had remained latent all these months, only to surface now? But no; latent infections did not react with the rapid onset of the acute condition with which he presented himself to the doctor; it had to have been recent. Where?... when?... with whom?... the very idea was beginning to obsess him.

As long as the doctor had more or less quarantined him to his quarters, he decided that now was as good a time as ever to go through his files and delete any obsolete data files. He remembered a drawer in his desk with some old infopadds that probably could be reviewed and updated.

He sighed as he opened the drawer in question, seeing about ten infopadds stacked in it. He picked them up, a couple at a time, piling them on his desk. It was as he picked up the last two that he noticed something laying flat on the bottom of the drawer, something that vaguely told him it was important.

It was an old-fashioned paper notebook, with its pages bound. He opened it, and caught his breath as he recognized the handwriting in it. It was his own writing, but the words could have been Klingon for all he knew. He could not remember having written a single one of them.

CLICK HERE TO GO TO PART 2 AT WARP SPEED!