Haven’t written a Chakotay story for ages.  I thought this would be a light change from Janeway’s psyche.  Or not.

For the first time in months, Chakotay found that he could look at Seska without feeling the heavy weight of guilt and regret in his stomach.

Strange, he mused, that release could come in a hell-hole like this.  His crew were hiding on Taven Three, a former Cardassian prison camp, while B’Elanna’s team scrounged for repair equipment.

Working one afternoon in the dusky light of the dim sun – Chakotay shuddered as he imagined being a prisoner here, existing in this dim limbo – he glanced up and caught Seska’s eye.  She offered him a smile and kept working.

That evening, she wandered over to him.  "Hey," she said softly.

He moved over, allowing her to sit beside him on a slab of scrap metal.  "Hey yourself," he replied.

She took a bite of the current sludge masquerading as their meal and said, "How’ve you been?"

Chakotay paused, wondering what she wanted to hear.  His life was made up of brutal violence and long periods of inaction.  Hers was similar, but he had the added burden of command, not to mention the knowledge that, if by some miracle he survived this, he would once again be trapped between two worlds, trying to live up to different standards.  And this time, he wouldn’t be able to lose himself in Starfleet regulations.  Lately, peace had only come in battle, and the thought of a kamikaze run was increasingly tempting.  He looked over at the hulk of his ship, silhouetted against the stars, and wondered how much of a bang it would make if he rammed it against a Cardassian ship.  He wondered how quickly he’d die.

"I’m doing fine," he said.  As the silence between them stretched he added, "you?"

"Not bad."

"Good."

He took a sip of his drink, something vile and alcoholic.  Chell had many talents, but maintaining a decent still wasn’t one of them.

"Do you ever regret it?" Seska asked.

"Regret what?"

"Us."

"It’s over, Seska."  God, how many times had they had this discussion?

He was about to stand and leave, but she grabbed his wrist.  "That wasn’t what I meant," she hissed.

"Then what do you mean?"

"Do you regret beginning the relationship?  Do you regret opening yourself up, if only for a few months?"

He paused and considered it. Part of him still felt raw from the pain of throwing her away.  But at least he felt *something*…

"No.  Not at all."

She released his arm and smiled. "Thankyou."  She leaned over and kissed him lightly.  "That was all I wanted to know."

As she walked away, he thought about her question. He couldn’t have continued the relationship – even if he hadn’t been her commander, everything about her was so intense.  But he had loved her – maybe he still did, under all the scars the Cardassians had inflicted on him.  And he didn’t regret loving her.

And they were able to have a conversation again.  Perhaps it was working out, Chakotay mused.

It hadn’t been such a bad break-up after all.

END

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