This the prequel to my earlier story, "The Renatan Mercenaries".  Unfortunately I share Brannon Braga's attitude to continuity: never let it get in the way of a good story.  Fortunately, a fanfic *doesn't* cost a couple of million dollars (at least, not until Paramount's lawyers start calling...) so I can go back and fix continuity errors.  As I write this, I'm also in the middle of a new version of "The Renatan Mercenaries", so any apparent continuity errors will be fixed ... one day.

***

"What the *hell* were you doing?"

She looked tired, Chakotay decided.  Tired and unhappy, although it might have been an effect of the forcefield between them.

"What were you doing?" she asked again.  Her voice was soft, but Chakotay recognised the anger in her face and body.

"It's a long story," Chakotay began, stalling.  Kathryn quirked an eyebrow, as her lips thinned.

"I don't want to hear a story, Chakotay," she said, her words clipped and short.  "I want an explanation.  Why did my security team find you assaulting the Illycrian ambassador?"

"The ambassador hasn't pressed charges, has she?"

"Oh, I've no doubt she will," Kathryn spat.  "And when you've been thrown in prison for assault, or whatever it was you were trying to do, Myrla will continue to hound me because one of my former officers attacked her."

"She won't press charges, Kathryn."

Her eyes widened at his use of her given name, whether in anger or pain he couldn't tell.  She opened her mouth to say something, glanced at the guard and obviously changed her mind.

The were interrupted by a young man entering the brig.  "Admiral Janeway," he said, "word from the Illycrian ambassador.  She's not pressing charges."

Kathryn swung around and fixed Chakotay with a piercing glare.  He shrugged and smiled innocently.

"Uh, Admiral," said the young lieutenant awkwardly, "we can't hold him indefinitely if the Ambassador won't press charges..."

"You're right, Lieutenant."  Kathryn favoured Chakotay with an icy smile.  "Let him out in two hours."

***

Admiral Kathryn Janeway, commanding officer of Deep Space 2, renowned heroine and skilled diplomat, sank into her couch and drew a shaky breath.

It was okay.  Myrla wasn't pressing charges.  Chakotay would be released, and she was sure he had a *very good reason* for his behaviour.  There was a reason why her former first officer (*best friend*, whispered her mind) had been found threatening and assaulting the Illycrian ambassador.  *Like we need more problems with Illycria.*  The Illycrians were a small part of the Federation's wide sphere of influence, but they played a prominent role in the politics of this region.  They were also notoriously temperamental.

She walked to her replicator and got a cup of coffee.  With a sigh she pulled her console towards her.  "Computer.  Display known locations and actions of former Maquis Chakotay for the last two years."

The screen filled with dates, locations and comments.  Even after the reluctant amnesty, bought at such a high price, Starfleet still kept tabs on known members of the Maquis.

Kathryn frowned as she read.  After she'd failed to convince Starfleet to let Seven, Neelix and the Maquis remain on Voyager, her crew had scattered.  But Chakotay and a lot of the Maquis had stayed together.  They'd moved from planet to planet, doing small cargo runs, when they'd encountered a former Maquis associate, Svetlana Korepanova.  Two months after that encounter, a company called the Renatan Mercenaries was listed with the Ferengi Business and Commerce Register.  Chakotay and Korepanova were listed as the primary stockholders.  Starfleet described the Renatans as a minor, though professional, group who specialised in rescues and hostage reclamation projects, including some from Cardassia.  A month ago Chakotay had visited Illycria Prime..  If Starfleet Intelligence had any data about that visit, or the time afterwards, it wasn't yet available to Kathryn.

Kathryn exhaled sharply.  Chakotay, a mercenary ... It seemed so strange.  Although it did explain why she hadn't heard from him for so long.

Spurred on by another though, she said, "Computer, are there any other former Voyager crewmen in the Renatan Mercenaries?"

"Affirmative."

"Give me their names."

Kathryn's eyes widened as she read the list of names.  Chell.  Emergency Medical Hologram Unit X47628-74656 (aka The Doctor). Hansen, Annika (aka Seven of Nine). Henley, Mariah.  Neelix. Torres, B'Elanna (but no Tom).  And more, almost her entire crew.

*I've stayed away too long*, she thought.  But *why* would Chakotay would Chakotay recruit her old crew for a mercenary fleet?

Kathryn swallowed the last of her coffee and stalked out of her office.  The answers she wanted weren't in there.

***

Chakotay leaned back on the bench and studied the wall behind the guard.  *Kathryn can be a real bitch*, he thought.  But she'd looked unhappy as well as angry.  Her mouth had been drawn into a thin line and her hair had been pulled into a severe bun which accentuated the small lines around her mouth.

Overworked.  Tired.  Too much coffee.  He knew her too well.

And then Kathryn walked into the room.

"Chakotay..." she whispered.

"Admiral," he responded sardonically.  So strange to think of her as anything other than his captain and best friend.

She raised her eyebrow.  "I notice you go by the same title yourself these days."

"Of course, *I* get the sparkly uniform *and* my own starship to command.  Three, in fact."

"Yes, I've heard.  And what is the connection between the Renatan Mercenaries and Illycria?"

Chakotay smiled but his face revealed nothing.  "I'm not at liberty to say."

Kathryn sighed.  "You're relieved," she said to the guard.  He looked hesitant to leave his commanding officer alone with the prisoner, but a tilt of her head had him moving.  She lowered the forcefield and stepped into the brig, sitting down beside him.

"Fleet Intel is good with the what and how, but I need you to give me the why," she murmured.

"I've already told you, Kathryn, I'm not at liberty to say."

"That's not it.  Not really.  Or rather, this incident is part of something bigger."

"Ah.  You want me to explain the Renatans."

She looked him in the eye and he saw that she'd lost her mask of anger.  It was replaced with a disturbingly intense melancholy.

"You must admit," she said, "it does seem a little out of character.  You once told me that Starfleet and the Maquis have always kept you away from your true desires. Why are you *still* involved with a military organisation again?"  She paused and continued softly, "what keeps you from happiness, Chakotay?"

He chuckled ruefully and touched her face gently.  "Starfleet managed to keep me away from my heart's desire again, you know.  And hid her away in this glittering prison where I couldn't see her."  She blushed and dropped her eyes, but he saw the smile that touched her lips.  "Truthfully, my sense of duty reared its head again.  A promise to a dying friend..." He trailed off, lost for words.

"That seems to happen so much," Kathryn noted.  "Haven't you ever wanted to say, 'No more duty, I want to do something for myself'?"

"Would I be able to live with myself?"

Kathryn smiled ruefully.  "No.  But the idea doesn't go away, does it?  Freedom from duty ... glittering prison indeed." She stood and walked out of the brig.  With a sardonic twitch of her eyebrow she raised the forcefield.  "I haven't finished with you, Chakotay.  Myrla may not be pressing charges, but you've aroused my curiousity.  And I think you remember how tenacious I am."

"I remember."  She turned towards the door but he called after her, "Glittering prisons, Kathryn.  Are you happy?"

She turned back to him.  Chakotay could see the glint of tears in her eyes.  "No," she whispered.  And with that she left.

Chakotay sighed and tried to find a comfortable position on the narrow bench.

Kathryn had changed, he mused.  It had hurt her deeply when Starfleet refused to keep Voyager's crew together.  The brass had made it more than clear that, while the were more than happy to pick the brains of Seven and the rest, Voyager's crew would not be serving together again.  And then they had promoted Kathryn and locked her away on DS2.  Chakotay thought of fairy tales where the princess was locked in a tower to protect her from an unsuitable lover.  *So, are you the handsome rescuer, or the gnome-like evil suitor*, he asked himself.  *What's your role here?*

*Kathryn...*

***

*Chakotay...*

Damn him, she thought as she filled her bath that evening.  Damn him for disrupting her neat life and pleasant haze of denial.

Damn him for seeing her so well.

"Myers to Admiral Janeway."

Kathryn frowned; she really wasn't in the mood for a power-usage report.  But ... "Janeway here."

"Admiral, there's an unusual power reading in Ambassador Myrla's quarters.  We don't think it's a weapon, but there's a lot of energy there.  I wasn't going to bother you, but with the current situation..."

"You did well, James.  I'll handle it."

"Admiral?  Is that wise?"

Kathryn picked up a phaser and tricorder.  "I'll be fine.  Janeway out."

Stalking to the turbolift she asked, "Computer, where is Chakotay?"  There had been some debate about whether the movement of civilians should be monitored -- the station’s media still picked it up sometimes if nothing more interesting was happening -- but safety regulations alone necessitated a tracking system.

"Chakotay is on level 12, subsection 37 alpha."

Ambassador Myrla's quarters.  Kathryn swore under her breath.  Damn Chakotay for bringing it to this point anyway.  The man could be so irritating when he chose to be.  There was no turning a blind eye this time.  If he were even *breathing* wrong, she'd bring charges against him herself.

Damn him for putting her in this situation.

She briefly contemplated calling a security team, but decided against it.  Neither Chakotay or Myrla would hurt her, Chakotay because he cared too much -- that moment in the brig had shown her that -- and Myrla wouldn't overtly risk an interstellar incident.  And if it was, by some bizarre miracle, a perfectly innocent situation, she'd prefer to avoid public embarrassment.

She pressed the door chime, wondering whether she'd get any response.  Surprisingly, Myrla answered.

"You might as well enter, Admiral," the ambassador said.

Kathryn stepped inside the richly decorated quarters, furnished in the traditional Illycrian style.  Chakotay sat in the centre of the room, a small gold device on the table before him.  He looked up, annoyance written on his face.  "Kathryn, this isn't the time," he said.

Kathryn allowed some of her own irritation to show.  "And you think I *want* to be here?"

"You seemed willing to turn a blind eye earlier."

"My crew detected a power surge.  They wanted to come an investigate.  Would you prefer me, or a team of engineers and security officers?"

"Point taken," Chakotay admitted.

"I disagree," said Myrla sharply.  "This is a private matter.  Janeway has no place here.  She is--" Myrla pronounced the word with distaste – "human."

"You accept Chakotay's company.  Why not mine?" asked Kathryn.

"He is *nelachii*," Myrla said softly.

Kathryn mentally translated.  "The Matriarch's Voice?"

Myrla exhaled sharply.  "This is an extremely private matter, Admiral.  It is none of your concern."

"Actually, Myrla," said Chakotay, "it is very much her concern.  And now that I've discharged my primary duty, I'm free to offer an explanation."

"No!"

Chakotay quelled her with a look and Kathryn leaned forward, fascinated.  "Myrla has been planning to attack the Andorian colony on Rellas 3," he said.

Kathryn gasped slightly. "The Federation would come in to defend it … *why?*  What's to be gained?"

Chakotay's lips were thin.  "She's acting without the consent of the Matriach.  The plan was that Illycria would send its military to deal with the unauthorised attack, while the Breen attack Illycria Prime."

Kathryn sucked her breath in slowly.  "All under my nose," she said ruefully.  "I didn't notice a thing."

"Don't worry," Chakotay reassured her.  "The Matriarch had to bribe, threaten and cajole several people before she found anyone willing to tell her anything."

"And then she involved this – outsider," Myrla spat.

"You're lucky she involved me," spat Chakotay.  "The alternative was having you killed.  Fortunately," he added to Kathryn, "the Matriarch has decided to recall her ambassador.  Myrla will be leaving the station tonight, Admiral."

"And that?" asked Kathryn, pointing at the gold disk on the table.

"The seal of the Illycrian Matriarchy.  One of three true seals.  It's a symbol of the Matriarch's authority.  And a recording device.  It's also an antimatter explosive, among other things.  And it's impervious to Federation scanners, except when its activated."  Seeing the horrified look on Kathryn's face he added, "It doesn't make coffee, though.  Practically the only thing it can't do."

"You brought an antimatter explosive onto my station," she whispered, shocked.  An interstellar conspiracy hatching under her nose, explosives being smuggled into her jurisdiction and Chakotay apparently at the centre of it all.

Secretive bastard.

"How did you become involved in this, anyway?" she asked.

"The Matriarch's son was captured by the Cardassians during the Dominion War.  I rescued him, and she decided that she could trust me with this mission."  Chakotay leaned forward and took Kathryn's hand.  "I never intended to deceive you, Kathryn," he said softly.  "I never set out to make you look incompetent or to undermine your authority."

"You succeeded without trying, then," she murmered.

The door chimed and two burly young men in grey and blue uniforms entered.  It took Kathryn a moment to recognise Gerron, her former crewmember.

"Sir," Gerron greeted Chakotay.

He gave the younger man a tight grin and gestured to Myrla.  "Take her into custody," he ordered.  "I'll join you in a few hours."

"Aye, sir."  Gerron finally met Kathryn's eyes, but he didn't acknowledge her rank.  The two men led Myrla out of the room, holding her between them.  Both appeared unarmed, but Kathryn suspected that they carried more concealed weapons than was technically legal.

After they were gone, Chakotay turned to Kathryn.  "Dinner?" he asked.

Kathryn raised her hands, realising that any attempt to control the situation was futile at this point.  "Why not?"

***

She poured the wine as he brought the meal over to the table.  Her quarters were spacious and comfortable, but it wasn't until this moment that she realised how much she missed Voyager.

"You're angry," Chakotay said.

"Not anymore.  Confused and irritated, but no longer homicidal."

"I'm sorry."

Kathryn shrugged.  "You had a job to do.  Even if I still have trouble seeing you as a mercenary."

"I would have stayed in Starfleet if they would have had me."  His eyes were sad as he looked at her.

Kathryn snorted.  "I doubt they'll have *me* after this mess." She buried her head in her hands.  "How am I supposed to put this in my report?" she complained.

"Leave it out," suggested Chakotay.  Kathryn couldn't see his face, but she suspected that he wasn't joking.

She lifted her head.  "Starfleet'll have my ass on toast when they hear about this.  And they *will* hear about this – Fleet Intel has kept very close tabs on you."

"Look at it this way," Chakotay proposed cheerfully, "if they throw you out, you can come and work for me.  I could do with a new personal assistant."

Kathryn covered her eyes, wondering whether she *could* pretend that none of this had happened.

Chakotay took her hand and caressed her long fingers.  "You're not happy here, are you?"

"I thought that we'd established that."

"You don't have to do this, Kathryn.  You can leave this prison if you want to."

"I can't leave.  I owe Starfleet too much."

"You owe Starfleet nothing.  It's taken your life, sucked all the joy and happiness out of you and locked you away on Deep Space 2."

Kathryn shook her head.  "I do owe Starfleet a debt.  They wanted to either throw the Maquis in prison or hand them over to Cardassia.  I made a bargain: they let you off and I play admiral here for at least ten years."

Chakotay took a shaky breath.  "And at the end of ten years?" he asked.

"I'm a free agent."

"I'm sorry," Chakotay whispered, "I had no idea…"

Kathryn took his hand, holding it tightly.  "I got you all off, didn't I?  And I'm okay – just a little –"

"Confined?"

"Yeah."

"Restricted?"

"Definitely."

"Lonely?"

"Oh yes."

Kathryn had barely noticed that he'd moved closer to her, but when he touched her cheek and kissed her mouth, she responded urgently.

Without words, they went into her bedroom.

***

Chakotay woke up to find that his arm, wrapped around Kathryn's waist, had gone numb and that his other hand was caught in her hair.  Carefully, he managed to extricate himself without waking her.

It had been wrong, he knew, but he couldn't stand seeing her here, alone.  He was risking so much: the Renatans, the mission, his own freedom.  Starfleet Intelligence would no doubt have something to say about this escapade.  He hoped that Kathryn would escape the fall-out.  Spending a night in her quarters had been dangerous for both of them.

He didn't regret a thing.

He stood over Kathryn for a moment, trying to resist the urge to kiss her goodbye.  It was better that she have no idea where he was, but it felt so *wrong* leaving her like this…

In the end, he left a note.

***

Kathryn woke up slowly, gradually becoming aware that she was alone.  She knew instinctively that Chakotay had left hours ago.

Propped up on the dining table was a small, hand-written note:
 

I didn't want to wake you, but I had to leave.  I'd already stayed too long.  I don't want to give you any contact details in case Fleet Intel starts investigates you.

I'm sorry for any inconvenience I've caused you.

I'll keep that personal assistant position open for you. I happen to know that you make great coffee.

I miss you.  I love you.

Chakotay

Desperate to know what happens next?  Read the original "The Renatan Mercenaries"

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Copyright © 2000 Elizabeth M. Barr

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