TITLE: The Last Straw AUTHOR: Chris Adam Christenson FEEDBACK TO: phileasfg@babylon.d2dc.net CODES: J/Michael Sullivan, C/f, C/f. Also (as should be obvious from context) AU. RATING: PG-13 (AL,MV,BN) PART: 1/1 DISCLAIMER: Paramount, baa baa woof woof. SUMMARY: When Janeway and the Doctor find a way to bring Michael Sullivan to life, it's more than Chakotay can stand. The Last Straw by Chris Adam Christenson "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" the Doctor asked Captain Janeway. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," replied Janeway with a smile. "I renew my objection to this procedure," grunted Chakotay. "Your objection is once again noted, Commander," the Doctor informed him. From the look on his face, it appeared that Tom Paris agreed with Chakotay. However, he said nothing, and manned the holo-imaging camera as ordered. "Roll film," the Doctor commanded. "Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness an historic and unprecedented accomplishment. In a few moments, I will replicate a sentient being, contructed from a custom-built genome, and implanted with a programmed consciousness. Not only is this the most complex object ever replicated, but is indeed the first ever artificially-constructed sentient biological organism. Subject's identity is a Terran male Caucasian, age thirty-six Earth years. I will begin the procedure." "Subject is in the pattern buffer," reported the transporter chief, a moment after the Doctor tapped the appropriate control. "Energize," ordered the Doctor. A few seconds later, the handsome Irishman in question appeared on the transporter pattern. "Katie? Am I really here?" inquired Michael Sullivan. Janeway smiled and nodded. "It took some doing, but we did it, Michael!" With that, Sullivan embraced Janeway, and kissed her. Chakotay departed without waiting to be dismissed. ****** "Settle down, Chakotay!" pleaded B'Elanna Torres, observing Chakotay's inability to control his fork well enough to eat his salad. "I should just vaporize the son of a bitch right now!" growled Chakotay. "Sullivan, or the Doctor?" "Yes." B'Elanna assumed, for the moment, that he spoke of Sullivan. "You can't do that. He's a human being." "Bullshit! He's a freak, a Frankenstein monster, a science experiment. Tell me, why haven't we erased the Doctor's ego subroutine yet? I could put with him when he was just a pompous ass, but playing God is unacceptable." "Commander, I don't like this any more than you do. But the Doctor didn't just do this out of scientific curiosity, and he certainly didn't do it to satisfy his delusions of grandeur. He did it out of compassion for Captain Janeway," interjected Tom Paris. "Delusions of grandeur," mocked Chakotay. "We need to get you reassigned before you start sounding any more like the bastard." Tom sighed. "Confidentially, I could take it if she decided to knock boots with some junior officer. Hell, I'd have given my blessing if she'd decided to shack up with Neelix! The point is, no mortal man was good enough for her, could ever be good enough for her. She had to bring to life some figment of her imagination. Correction: a figment of your imagination." Tom hung his head. "You're right. I always knew Captain Janeway was a little crazy. It was stupid of me to create a fantasy world for her, and then expect her not to escape into it." Chakotay sighed. "I'm sorry, Tom. It's not fair for me to put all of this on you. First I lost Seska, and now Kathryn. Face it, I'm just a pathetic excuse for a man. Excuse me." With that, Chakotay stood up and stormed out of the mess hall. B'Elanna pursued Chakotay into the corridor, and stood in his path. "Still trying to cheer me up, Lieutenant? Save your breath!" "Will you listen yourself, Chakotay? First you threaten to kill the Doctor for following orders, then you go away sulking like a nine-year-old who just lost a Hag'moja match! You know I agree with you about Captain Janeway. You deserve much better than her." "You're right." Chakotay ignored B'Elanna's puzzled look as he seized her by the face and kissed her hard on the lips. B'Elanna pushed him away and took two steps back. "What the hell is the matter with you?" "You know what it is. I need you." "Chakotay, you're scaring me! This is impossible. I'm with Tom now." "You're with Tom, Kathryn's with what's-his-filename, Seska turned out to be a Cardassian spy. I'm cursed!" B'Elanna tried to put her arms around Chakotay, but he pulled away and headed for his quarters. B'Elanna considered it prudent not to pursue him this time. ******* Three weeks had passed, and Chakotay remained sullen. His expressions showed no emotion whatsoever, and he spoke only as his duties required. Finally, after the fourth week, he began to show signs of life again. "So, Chakotay, I was wondering if you'd join me for a game of tennis this evening, say about 1800?" offered Tom Paris, noticing Chakotay's increased appetite. "Can't. I've got a date." "A date?" inquired B'Elanna. "Anyone we know?" "Ensign Manila, one of Sam Wildman's people." "Way to go, Chak!" congratulated Tom. "She's got a real sexy birthmark on her..." "Tom!" scolded B'Elanna, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. "I don't he's going to get that far on the first date!" "Well, if I do, I certainly won't kiss-and-tell." ****** Two weeks later, Chakotay arrived at Ensign Gina Manila's quarters at 1945, fifteen minutes early for their sixth date. The tall, athletically-built Filipina answered the door promptly, dispensing with her usual custom of making him wait. They sat down, touched glasses, and each took a sip of their wine. Gina then attacked Chakotay with her mouth. "Hmm, a little anxious, are we?" said Chakotay in a romantically-sinister voice. "What do you say we just skip the holodeck?" she replied in a similar tone. "No, I have something very special planned. Trust me, we'll have plenty of time for fun." "You are just a regular Don Juan!" Gina stood up, revealing an evening gown that complemented her dark brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skin, as well as Chakotay's tuxedo. She took Chakotay's arm, and they headed off for the holodeck. ****** When they arrived, Chakotay found the door sealed. "Maybe we should just go to the other holodeck," suggested Gina. "No, Tom and Harry are playing Lacrosse there tonight. Besides, I reserved this timeslot last week. Computer, override security lock, authorization: Chakotay, Epsilon- Four." The door slid open to reveal an Irish spring, with the naked body of Michael Sullivan atop the same of Kathryn Janeway. "Commander, what the hell are you doing here?" demanded Janeway. Chakotay said nothing, pulling Michael off Kathryn and throwing him onto the rocks. He dove on top of Michael and began pummeling him. Janeway reached for her commbadge and tapped it. "Security to Holodeck Two!" Two security officers arrived a moment later. They attempted to peel Chakotay off Michael. When he tossed them aside, one drew his phaser and stunned Chakotay, causing him to fall over onto Michael. The two security officers picked Chakotay up and carried him to the brig. Gina had been turned away from the brig, and arrived in Sickbay just as the Doctor finished examining Michael Sullivan. "He's suffered a mild concussion, with several fractured ribs, bruises and lacerations, plus I'll have to completely reconstruct his jaw. Nothing I can't handle, but he's fortunate to have been rescued when he was," the Doctor reported. "Fortunate, my ass," mumbled Gina. Janeway turned to face her. "Go away, Ensign. This doesn't concern you." "Like hell it doesn't. You did that on purpose. You've got what you wanted, but you just can't let Chakotay be happy." "One more word, Ensign, and you'll be joining Commander Chakotay in the brig... in a separate cell, of course." Gina bit her lip, spun around, and exited Sickbay. ****** Several weeks later, Captain Janeway presided over Chakotay's court-martial. Tom Paris met with him in the brig as he prepared for sentencing. "Well, here's hoping for the best, buddy," said Tom in a futile attempt to reassure him. "Don't bother. I knew the verdict the moment I threw the first punch." Tom sighed and nodded in agreement. "Even if she'd been impartial, Tuvok's prosecution would've been tough to beat." "You did your best, Tom. That's all I asked of you." "The prisoner will stand," commanded Janeway. Tom and Chakotay rose to their feet. "You have been charged with Assault, Violation of Security Protocols, Invasion of Privacy, and Behavior Unbecoming a Starfleet Officer. This court-martial finds you guilty on all charges, and hereby sentences you to serve sixty days solitary confinement, with credit for time served, and to be stripped of your commission and dishonorably discharged from Starfleet. You will serve the remaining fifteen days of your sentence, and then you will board the freight vessel Geshnon, which will transport you to Hamadas VI, where you will be granted asylum. Court-martial is adjourned." ****** Two weeks later, Chakotay waited in the transporter room with Captain Janeway, Tom Paris, B'Elanna Torres, and Tuvok. The transporter chief reported that Captain Yedek of the Geshnon was ready for transport. "Energize," she ordered. Captain Yedek appeared on the transporter pad, and saluted Captain Janeway according to his people's custom. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. I wish our peoples could've met under more pleasant circumstances." "I share that sentiment, Captain Janeway. On behalf of the Commonwealth of Hamadas, I'm authorized to accept custody of Chakotay, son of Kolopak, and transport him to the customs office at Lavara Station, in orbit of my home world." "Captain, may I have a moment?" requested Chakotay. "Take your time," Yedek replied graciously. Chakotay sensed he would get along with this jailer much better than his current one. "Sorry it had to end this way, buddy. You take care of yourself," said Tom Paris, extending his hand. Chakotay shook his hand, then hugged him. B'Elanna turned to him. "You've meant a great deal to a lot of people here, even those who won't admit it. No one can ever take your place here, Chakotay." B'Elanna embraced him, and kissed him on the cheek. Even Tuvok saw fit to extend him a Vulcan salute. "Live long, Chakotay, and prosper." "Same to you, Tuvok." ****** Chakotay joined Captain Yedek on the transporter pad. He decided his final insult would be to personally give the order to transport. "Energize," he commanded, and disappeared from the platform. No sooner had this been done than Captain Janeway scolded the transporter chief for having done that. "If you ever do that again, you'll be court-martialed." "Yes, Captain. Sorry, Captain," apologized the transporter chief, insincerely. Captain Janeway and Tuvok left the transporter room. "If we all weren't so eager to see Earth again, Captain Janeway would a mass exodus on her hands, " commented the transporter chief. B'Elanna nodded in agreement. "I sure as hell wanted to go with him." "What do you think will become of him?" Tom Paris smiled. "Somehow, I'm sure Chakotay will be all right." ****** In the capital city of Hamadas, Chakotay wandered through the busy streets. He'd walked quite far, which was not his custom. Normally, he would finish his morning work at the shelter, then retire to his bunk for some quiet meditation. His feet throbbed, and he sought refuge in a nearby cafe. He had been sitting about five minutes when a waitress approached him. "What can I bring you?" offered the waitress, whose nametag read "Fiara." "Thank you, I'm fine." "I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I can't let you sit here unless you order something." Chakotay sighed. "Bring me fruit juice, preferably the fermented kind." "How much, sir?" Chakotay placed his last five-chmura piece on the table. "As much as this will buy." Fiara left, and returned with a mug, filled half-full (about 30 centiliters) with wine. She could tell he was an alien from the odd structure of his facial bones. "Where are you staying?" she inquired. "The men's shelter down on Zepakna Street." "How long have you been there?" "About two weeks." "If you want, I can get the boss to let you mind the register for awhile. You can take a load off your feet, and you'll earn a few chmurae." Chakotay accepted her offer, and went to work at the cash register. ****** Almost six hours had passed since Chakotay had left the shelter. He knew he had missed dinner, but didn't concern himself with it. He very much enjoyed being treated like a normal sentient being once again. When closing time came, Chakotay helped Fiara with the final cleaning chores, telling her his story while they worked. "I can certainly understand your frustration with the military. My husband died in some petty border dispute. I'm glad that government is out of power now." "Well, I certainly don't expect the Federation to be out of power anytime soon. Not that I'd want to go back there, anyway." "You don't have any desire you see your home again?" "My home was destroyed in one of those petty border disputes you speak of." "Oh, I'm sorry." "No worries. It's nice to talk to someone who understands." Chakotay started back toward the shelter. The unhewn stone streets glistened in the streetlights, wet from the rains earlier that day. Fiara pulled up beside him on her hover- bike. "Come along. I'll give you a ride." They rode several blocks back the way Chakotay had come before entering an expressway that Chakotay didn't recognize. "The shelter's the other direction," yelled Chakotay over the wind. "We're not going to the shelter." ****** About ten minutes later, they parked behind an apartment building. They took the lift up to Fiara's third-floor apartment. Fiara pressed the inner thumb of her left hand against the door plate, and the door swung open. She found the babysitter in the kitchen, using a handheld sterilizing recycler to wash dishes. "How's Gemil?" Fiara asked the babysitter. "He's just fine, went to sleep without any trouble." Fiara nodded. "He's a good boy." "That he is." The babysitter collected her payment, and left. "Gemil is your son, I take it," inquired Chakotay after the babysitter left. "Yes, he is. He's two and a half." Chakotay did some quick math. That made him about six in Earth years. "If I may ask, how old are you?" "I'm seventeen. Is it taboo in your culture to ask a woman her age?" Another quick calculation revealed that Fiara was about thirty-eight in Earth years. "In many Terran cultures, it is. Not in mine." "Ah, I see. It's rather fascinating how so many different cultures can come from a single planet." "Yes, it is." As Fiara prepared the spare bedroom for Chakotay, he gave some thought to her looks. Had she been a Terran woman, she'd have been about average height. She was a bit rounder than most of the women Chakotay had dated, but by no means fat. Each of her two eyes appeared to be a single solid membrane of purple, and she wore her reddish-brown hair in a single braid behind her head, which stretched down almost to her knees. Chakotay had been attracted to this woman from the start, but until now had never considered the possibility of having a future with her. Fiara showed Chakotay into his room. "This was my husband's room.You're welcome to stay here as long as you like." Fiara closed the door, giving Chakotay some privacy. As Chakotay brushed his teeth and crawled into bed, he knew that things were going to be all right from then on. ****** Fifteen Years Later: Fiara was awakened early in the morning by the door chime. She rolled over and awoke her husband with a kiss on the cheek. "Morning," said Chakotay with a smile. He turned and gave his wife a proper kiss. "Mmm. We can get frisky later. Right now I was wondering if you'd go see who's at the door." Chakotay rolled out of bed, donned his bathrobe, and opened the door. "Spirits in the sky, do my eyes deceive me!" said Chakotay, flabbergasted at his callers. Tom and B'Elanna embraced him simultaneously. "It's good to see you again, Chakotay," greeted Tom. "You look good," added B'Elanna. "That might have something to do with the fact that I'm only twenty-nine in Hamadan years," jested Chakotay. "Come on in." Chakotay sat them down at the table, where Fiara already had breakfast sitting (with five children, it was her custom to prepare it the night before and reheat it). "Fiara, these are my very good friends Tom and B'Elanna Paris," said Chakotay. "This is my wife, Fiara." "A pleasure to meet you. If I may ask, how long had Chakotay been here before he met you?" inquired Tom, somewhat jokingly. "About two weeks," chuckled Fiara. "Gettin' a little slow in your old age, I see," jested Tom. "Chakotay's told me so much about you two." "Not all of it bad, I hope." B'Elanna decided to delve into the serious conversation. "Chakotay, how did you know we were married?" "I know you too well. How long?" "About twelve years, ten of which we spent in prison." "Oh my word! Something to do with your affiliation with that patriot group... what was it called, Chakotay?" asked Fiara. "Maquis," he replied. "Yes, the Maquis." "Precisely. The Federation needed a scapegoat for the Dominion War, and we were it." "That leads me to believe you aren't the only ones out here," suggested Chakotay. "Not hardly," volunteered B'Elanna. "I retrofitted Neelix's ship with an advanced prototype engine, the kind Starfleet isn't supposed to have, if you get my meaning. Former Maquis are settling throughout the Delta Quadrant. It's really the closest thing we have to a home." "So, Chak, you have kids?" asked Tom, confirming what he'd surmised by the clothing hooks with school bags on them. "Five of them. Gemil, our oldest, attends the university, but he always makes it home for school breaks. The rest of them are away at orbital camp. They'll be back in a few days, if you'd like to stick around." "Actually, we'd kind of like to stay, if that's all right with you." "More than all right. We've been meaning to get a bigger place, anyway. You two can have the guest room until then." "I'm surprised a place this small has a guest room," commented Tom. "It actually used to be my room," commented Fiara. "The idea of husband and wife sharing a bed is one of many of Chakotay's customs that I very much enjoy, even if it has resulted in more children than average." All four of them laughed at that comment. Chakotay thought about how wonderful the past fifteen years had been, and how wonderful the years to come would be, raising families side-by-side with his best friends. His new life had risen, as a phoenix, out of the ashes of his old one. As bizarre as it seemed, only one sentiment seemed to express this feeling: Thank the spirits for Michael Sullivan! ****** THE END