*********
Lakita searched the compound for signs of her brother. It was late, and she was starting to get worried. She knew how depressed he'd been since his return home; they'd all taken the loss of Kolopak hard, but none worse than Chakotay. He hadn't confided in her, but she knew he was torn apart by the guilt of never having had the chance to make peace with their father. Lakita hoped he'd talked to Naya. Not only as the new spiritual leader of their People, but as a sister as well.
Naya had always been the closest to Chakotay. It wasn't just the proximity of their ages, it was more than that. Naya had always been sensitive to Chakotay's feeling of ostracism within their family and among the People. She wasn't certain, but Lakita suspected it was Naya's counsel that convinced Chakotay to stand up to Kolopak and leave Dorvan for Starfleet. Hopefully she had been able to offer some comfort to their brother for all his recent losses.
Lakita felt the change in air pressure as a ship landed. Now she knew why she hadn't spotted her brother among any of the cells. Watching him descend the ramp of the Runabout, she practically ran to him.
"Where were you? I was worried!" she scolded.
Chakotay closed the distance between them and placed his arm around her shoulders. "I'm a big boy; I can take care of myself, little sister," he said, poking her in the ribs.
"You didn't answer my question. What were you doing taking the Runabout out at this time of the night?"
"Hey, who's the Captain here?" he teased her.
"Chakotay!"
"I just wanted to do some last minute tests on the primary systems before tomorrow's raid," he said. He wasn't exactly lying to her. He *had* checked out the systems on his flight back from Resika.
"At this time of night?" she continued to press.
"I couldn't sleep thinking about them. Now I can. We *both* should get some rest. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
"Chakotay, wait a second," Lakita said, pulling on his arm to stop him. "We haven't had a lot of time to talk. . ."
"If this is about Kolopak, I don't want to talk about it," he said, his lips pressed into a hard, thin line. Ever since his return, Chakotay referred to his father as "Kolopak." Never *Ahtay* or father, as if he felt he didn't have the right to consider himself the man's son.
"Not just about *Ahtay*," she stressed. "What about Kathryn?"
"I don't want to talk about her, either," he snapped. Clearly he felt the subject was closed.
"Look, Chakotay, I know you miss her, but. . . "
Chakotay whirled to face her. "Miss her? Do you have any idea what's it's been like for me these past weeks? Wondering if the messages I sent got through? And if they did, if she understood *why* I had to do this? Why I had to give her up? I know she'll never be able to forgive me, but I pray she at least can understand the reason behind my abandoning her."
"You didn't 'abandon' her by acknowledging your heritage! If she loves you as you claim, surely she'll understand this!"
"It isn't just her bed I've left empty," he said. "I've shirked my responsibilities to Starfleet and *Voyager*. She's not going to forget that; I don't expect her to."
"Chakotay, listen to me," she said, grabbing him by the arms forcing him to stay and confront her. "I haven't seen you and Kathryn together since that day months ago, but even then I could tell she cared about you. Maybe she didn't have her heart on her sleeve like you did, but I could see there was something there. We all did."
Chakotay allowed himself a small smile, remembering the day he had introduced Kathryn to his family. His mother had assured him that he wasn't obvious about his affection for her, but Petala's words had been meant to calm him. Of course she wouldn't tell him he'd been acting the love-sick fool.
"I can't believe she's the type of person who'll think the worst of you without speaking to you first," Lakita continued.
"The evidence will be before her. Fact: I've given up Starfleet to join the Maquis. Fact: I've stolen Starfleet property and I'm AWOL. Fact: I'm using the training Starfleet gave me to instruct our troops, and the information we'd gathered on the Maquis to change strategies. Why *should* I expect her understanding? She has every right to believe the worst of me, because it's true!"
He pulled away, turning his back to her. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. I *can't* talk about this anymore. *Please*." It was his last word that made her relent. He spoke it with such desperation, she dropped whatever else she was going to try and talk to him about.
"Okay," she said quietly, wrapping her arms around his middle, pressing her face into his back. "I'm sorry," she said.
"Me too," he answered, placing his hands on the arms wrapped around his waist. "Come on," he said, leading her in the direction of the barracks. "Morning's going to come pretty fast and we need to be ready."
Lakita nodded and let him go, but Chakotay wasn't ready to release his hold on her yet. Keeping his hand clasped in hers, they walked silently to their bunks.
*********
The raid went off without a hitch, and it shouldn't have. Instead of celebrating the victory with the rest of his cell, Chakotay found himself even more on edge that something big was in the works. He had been aware of this strike before joining the Maquis, so he was extremely surprised Starfleet didn't have ships waiting for them at Terok Kal. He had warned his troops to be on the look-out for Starfleet ships, having the sensors constantly trained on the space around them, searching for Federation warp signatures. Not so much as a shuttle had shown up on their instruments, causing the members of Chakotay's cell to tease him about being overly paranoid about Starfleet.
The ease of their mission did nothing to help convince the Maquis of Chakotay's suspicions. He knew Starfleet was giving him and the Maquis plenty of room to maneuver, to get over-confidant and cocky. That's when they'd strike, when the Maquis were complacent enough to assume Starfleet and Cardassia had forgotten about them. It wasn't only that he knew how Starfleet operated; it was more a feeling, which he could hardly expect his people to accept on blind faith. Starfleet was giving him plenty of line before they reeled him in.
Chakotay knew he had to tell them about Tuvok; that the Vulcan was a spy and he'd taken care of the problem. Hopefully no one would question just *how* he had dealt with the problem. He didn't want to lie to these people. If he were to lead them, they had to trust him, and Chakotay didn't want to breach that trust by having them find out he had let one of the biggest threats to their movement live, for personal reasons.
Redefining their strategy was not something Chakotay was looking forward to. It was hard enough to coordinate missions with the ancient, unreliable communication equipment they had. Now he and the other cell leaders would have to formulate new plans. Plans that had been in the works for months would have to be abandoned. But he couldn't let the Maquis fly into the traps the Federation and Cardassia were sure to have set for them. He wasn't about to send his people on a suicide mission.
"Hey! Chakotay! Why the long face? We won! Not one loss! Why aren't you celebrating?" Kurt Bendera shouted at Chakotay as he crossed the compound. He held a bottle in each hand, one for himself, and the other, presumably, for him.
Since joining the Maquis, Kurt had become the closest thing he had to a friend. Although Chakotay was older, the more seasoned freedom fighter had taken him under his wing. Explaining the subtle intricacies of Maquis "protocol." The rebels were a collection of outcasts, mercenaries, homeless and expatriated individuals who obeyed no law but their own, and yet there was still a structure. An inferred hierarchy that had to be taken into account. Kurt had helped Chakotay acclimate himself to his new surroundings, pointing out who could be trusted and who couldn't. Chakotay remembered joking with Kurt one night, when they had been on a three-day drunk, asking him why he should trust *him*.
"You shouldn't," had been the man's reply, suddenly serious. "That's what I've been trying to tell you Chakotay. You should believe half of what they say, and then assume that half's a lie as well."
That had sobered Chakotay a bit. If there was no one he could trust, how would he ever hold his cell together long enough to make a difference? How had the Maquis managed to wreck the havoc they had if they had been consumed with petty squabbles? It turned out, in his cynicism, Kurt had painted a bleaker picture of the Maquis than Chakotay believed actually existed. Most of the people he had encountered had been extremely loyal to one another. But whether it was circumstances or actual trust that held them together, Chakotay couldn't say.
Chakotay managed a small smile as Kurt wrapped his arm around his shoulders, handing him a bottle.
"Drink up friend, for tonight we celebrate a great victory," Kurt said, his speech slightly slurred. Chakotay accepted the proffered alcohol and took a drink from the dirty bottle. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he gave a little cough.
"What the hell was that?" he asked, his throat feeling as if it were on fire.
"*Kannar*, Cardassia's finest."
"They can keep it," Chakotay said, trying to hand the bottle back to Bendera.
"Keep it. It grows on you, and you need to loosen up."
"What I need is for you all to see that they *handed* us Terok Kal."
*Handed?* It didn't feel like I was being *handed* anything while I was trying to shake those Cardassian ships off our ass," Kurt said. He took a seat by the fire, hoping Chakotay would join him.
"Okay, they gave us a little trouble, but nothing like it should have been. I told you, I was aware of plans for this raid weeks ago. Starfleet should have been here. I'm telling you they're trying to lull us into a false sense of security."
"So maybe they are," Kurt said. "Does that mean you can't celebrate the victory they *handed* us?" he asked with a smirk on his handsome face.
Chakotay gave him a grin of his own as he sat next to him on an old dilithium container. "You're right. I guess a win is still a win."
"Damn straight! Now drink some more of that Cardassian shit and relax! Hey where's that sweet little sister of yours tonight?"
"You stay away from her," Chakotay warned. He was teasing, but there was an edge to his voice.
"Relax, Big Brother, I was just kidding." Chakotay's protection of Lakita was already legendary. Gods help the man who truly *was* interested in her. Not that Kurt hadn't considered being that man. She was bright, beautiful and full of life, but there was no place for relationships in the Maquis. People came together as the stress of their existence became too much and broke up just as quickly. It seemed as though there was nothing permanent in this way of life. Some took advantage of the transient nature of their situation, but Kurt wasn't one of them. He might act as if all he were interested in was a series of one-nighters, but in reality, he longed for a traditional relationship, with a woman who wasn't just the alien of the week.
"Sorry," Chakotay said. "Old habits die hard, you know."
"Yeah, I do. Kind of like the way you hang on to that Starfleet paranoia like a dog with a bone!" Kurt teased, hoping to lighten the mood that seemed to have descended on them.
"If you'd worked for them as long as I had, you'd be paranoid, too," Chakotay said, with a trace of longing in his voice.
"You miss it, don't you?"
Chakotay was silent for a long time, staring with unblinking eyes into the fire. "Yes. I believe in what I'm doing here, but I wish I hadn't had to make the choice between Ka. . .Starfleet and my People."
"Wait a second!" Kurt cried. "Back up here. You started to say someone's name before you changed it to 'Starfleet!' Come on! Who is she, and why haven't you told me about her before?"
"There isn't anyone," Chakotay said a bit too quickly.
"Bullshit. You aren't this miserable because you miss saluting a superior officer. Was she in Starfleet too? Is that why you. . ."
"Drop it," Chakotay warned. "It's over and I don't want to talk about it." The tone of his voice left no doubt in Kurt's mind that the subject was closed.
"Consider it dropped," Kurt said, holding his hands up in resignation. "Look, I came over here to cheer you up, and you're starting to bring *me* down! Now, are you going to drink up and start being happy we didn't lose anyone today, or do I have to go and listen to Dalby tell me the same story over and over again about how he saved the entire mission by blowing up one Cardassian freighter?"
Chakotay smiled at his friend. He too had observed Dalby's predilection towards boasting. Raising his bottle to Kurt he took a long drink. "To success."
*********
Kathryn's second view of *Voyager's* transporter room was much the same as her first. Again she was struck with the bright newness of the ship, how it practically glowed. There was a different Ensign stationed at the transporter console, but the young man was no more relaxed in her presence than Ensign Boyd had been.
"Welcome aboard, Captain," he said, a slight tremor to his voice.
"Thank you, Ensign. . . .?"
"Bristow, Sir."
"Please, just 'Captain,'" Janeway said, with a smile.
"Shall I have someone help you with your gear, Captain?" Ensign Bristow offered.
"No, thank you. Nothing I can't manage," she told him, hoisting a bag to her back and taking a case in her left hand.
Freddy Bristow was impressed. He'd been under the command of Captains who'd carried a wallet and insisted they needed someone to carry it for them. Janeway was fairly loaded down, but insisted she didn't need anyone to carry her things. It said a lot about a commanding officer who was willing to do the same tasks they asked of their crew.
Along with the rest of the crew, he'd been curious about their new Captain. Of course they'd all had access to her service record, but it told them little about her as a person. Freddy was relieved to see the woman before him was a "regular Joe," and not the "Prima Donna" her dossier painted.
Traversing the corridors on the way to her quarters, Janeway nodded at the crew she encountered. God, they all looked so young! Was she ever that youthful? She knew she had been their age, but she'd never been "young." She had always been so serious: about life, about her career; she felt as though she'd been born forty. Not that she didn't know how to have fun, or take the risks the young often do. She had just always been so much more focused on where she wanted to get in life that no one had ever referred to Kathryn as "young."
And now that she had reached her goal of being a celebrated Captain with Starfleet's crown jewel under her command, she found the dream tarnished by the new nature of her mission. This could have been the highlight of her life. It *should* have been, but Chakotay had taken that from her as well. Any joy or enthusiasm she had been feeling for this mission had evaporated the minute Nechayev entered Kathryn's office. If only she had known things would turn out this way; she never would have let Chakotay go. But she could she have stopped him? He was determined to go. It had been *necessary* for him to go and Kathryn had understood that. What she didn't understand was what could have happened to change him so. She wished she'd been able to accompany him, if only to see first-hand what had been so compelling as to convert a Starfleet Commander into a Maquis rebel.
Verbally accessing her quarters door lock, she instructed the computer to allow her entry into her new living area.
"Computer, lights. Full illumination," Janeway commanded once she entered. The lights came up and she saw the fresh appearance of her quarters, but it didn't stop the memories she had of the first night she had spent there. She'd been tired that evening, but she remembered every moment she'd spent there. They'd spent there. The comfortable way Chakotay had moved around her quarters. The same ease he exhibited in her home. God! Would there be no place on Earth or in space that she could go where she wouldn't be plagued with memories of him? How was she going to step onto the Bridge, take her seat in the command center, and look to her left to see another man in his chair?
Kathryn remembered the day of their tour. How they'd tried the seats on "for size," and fiddled with their instrument panels like two kids given a new toy. Each exclaiming over new features this ship possessed, that they hadn't encountered before. She was sure the Admirals were trying hard to contain their mirth as they observed *Voyager's* commanding officers "playing" with their new ship.
All the wonder they'd experienced that day now seemed a lifetime ago; and in some respects, it was. She had to accept the fact he was no longer a part of her life. Even when she found him and captured him--and she would--there would be no going back. He was a traitor, and no matter how much she loved him, *had* loved him, she didn't think she could ever get past his infidelity to Starfleet.
It didn't take Kathryn long to unpack. She brought only one off-duty outfit, realizing there wouldn't be a lot of time for socializing on this trip. Their orders were clear: apprehend Chakotay at all costs. She needed little by way of adornments for her quarters, just a few pictures: her mother, Phoebe, one of the three of them at some park. And one of Molly. Kathryn was sorry she was going to be away when her dog had her puppies, but there were somethings that couldn't be helped. The people at the kennel took excellent care of Molly; she couldn't be in better hands.
Noting the hour, Kathryn saw she had time to call her mother and sister. Trying her mother first, she was surprised to find her gone. She left her a short message, assuring her mother that this mission was no more dangerous than any of the others she'd been assigned to. It wasn't a lie, exactly. Kathryn had elected not to elaborate on the danger she'd been in on past missions, but she knew her mother was aware of it. Gretchen hadn't been a Starfleet wife for years without being cognizant of the inherent dangers in belonging to the organization.
Kathryn tried Phoebe next. She hadn't bothered trying to explain the business with Chakotay to her mother, but if she got in touch with Phoebe, Kathryn would ask her to fill their mother in.
Phoebe's image nearly filled Kathryn's viewscreen as she answered her call. She was dressed in a smock, covered with clay. There was even some in her dark hair.
"This had better be good!" her sister snapped, as she answered the call. Seeing Kathryn's image on her own screen, she immediately apologized.
"Geeze, Goldie, I'm sorry! I thought it was Armon again."
"Armon? Who's that? I don't think I've heard you mention him before," Kathryn said, a smile quirking up the corners of her mouth.
"And you probably won't again! God, I just can't get rid of him! I told him it was fun while it lasted but. . .hey, you called me! I shouldn't be going on about my personal problems. Let's hear about yours instead!"
Kathryn's face fell; it was almost as if her sister had read her mind. "Funny you should say that."
Suddenly serious, Phoebe dropped her flippant tone. "Kathryn, what's wrong? You and Chakotay didn't have a fight or something?"
"No, not a fight. In fact he left on good terms."
"Well, something's up, you look like hell."
"Thanks, Phoebs. I can always count on you cheering me up," Kathryn tried to joke. Fighting the urge to shed the tears that were coming to her eyes, she outlined the events of the past few weeks for her sister.
"Oh, Goldie, I'm *so* sorry. I have to tell you, I didn't think he had it in him. I mean, I know I haven't really met him, but I get a 'feel' for people right off, and I liked him from the minute I saw him. And not just because I knew how you felt about him. He loves you, Kathryn. I felt that even through a viewscreen."
"I don't doubt that he loves me, or did anyway. But it must not have been enough. This was the *last* thing I expected of him," Kathryn said, the despair evident in her voice.
"Are you sure he didn't try to contact you? You said yourself that things were chaotic in that region; maybe he's tried but can't get a message out for some reason," Phoebe continued to argue in Chakotay's defense.
"His mother, Petala, managed to get a message to *him*. I would think he could have used the same method. At least to let me know why he felt he had to join the Maquis. If I could just understand that. . . .Well, I suppose I'll have my answers soon enough, once I have him in custody." Kathryn's voice shook with her last sentence.
"I can't believe those insensitive assholes at Starfleet are making you do this!" Phoebe railed.
"They didn't know we were involved," Kathryn said. "And I want to keep it that way," she warned her sister. Phoebe didn't have any friends in Starfleet, but Kathryn knew how gossip mushroomed. One of Phoebe's friends would tell another and before she'd even left Space-Dock, it would be all over the planet.
"As much as I wish I didn't have to be the one to bring in Chakotay, I don't want to lose my ship. If they replace me on this mission, it's a pretty good bet I'd be replaced permanently. I couldn't deal with that. To loose Chakotay and *Voyager*, all at the same time. . . .I couldn't stand that!"
"I promise! I won't tell a soul!" Phoebe tried to reassure her.
Kathryn wiped at the few stray tears that had managed to escape. "I guess I'm a little more emotional than usual over this," she apologized.
Phoebe's face and voice softened at her sister's admission. "Kathryn, promise me you won't give up hope. Next time you see him, give him the benefit of the doubt. Let him explain what happened before you jump all over him, okay?" Kathryn smiled slightly at how well her sister knew her.
"I'll see what I can do," she said. Looking up, Kathryn noticed how late it had gotten. "I've got to go, Phoebs. Thanks for listening to me."
"Well, I'm glad to, if it helps. Just try to keep an open mind, okay?"
"I will. I tried to call mom, but she was out. I don't care if you talk to her about this; I would have if I'd caught her." Phoebe nodded. "I hope I didn't ruin your work by interrupting you."
"Oh, I was just fooling around; it's no big deal."
"Still, I've probably broken your 'mood' now," Kathryn said.
"Better to have a broken mood than a broken heart. I really am sorry, Goldie. Hey, I could send you Armon if you want!" Phoebe teased her.
Kathryn laughed at her sister's offer. It never failed. Once again Phoebe had managed to make her feel better. When had the tormentor become the counselor? She couldn't say, but Kathryn relished the change in their relationship.
"I'll call you when I get back. Phoebe?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Goldie." Both women had tears in their eyes as Kathryn ended the transmission.
Kathryn took a deep breath. She felt better and resolved to get past her emotions of the last weeks. She couldn't deny the ache was still there, but now it had to be pushed aside for duty. She had a new ship to command and all the responsibilities that went with that. There was no time or room for personal indulgences.
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