Chapter Text
Episode One
Scene One
One minute, Janeway was watching Voyager’s viewscreen as the spectacular explosion and collapse of the Caretaker’s Array took a sudden, catastrophic lurch toward her ship. The photon torpedoes had met their targets, but the effect was not what Engineering had calculated. Instead of imploding, the Array had wheeled on its axis and launched itself on an inexorable course straight at Voyager’s hull. A final, unexpected pulse at close range fried Voyager’s electronics and put all engines offline.
“Tell me you have enough power to get us out of the way of that thing,” said Janeway to Tom Paris, who slid into the pilot’s seat as if he’d always owned it and tapped frantically at the controls.
“I’ve got nothing, Captain,” he said. “We’re dead in the water.”
“We’re going to be dead for real if we don’t move in the next thirty seconds,” said Janeway. “Tuvok, vent plasma. Anything to give us a little nudge.”
“Yes, captain,” said Tuvok, unperturbed. “Venting along our port side in an attempt to move out of the path of the Array.” A few seconds ticked by.
“It’s still coming,” said Janeway, gripping the console.
“No effect,” said Tuvok.
“What about a few more photon torpedoes, straight into it, to lessen the impact?” Janeway said.
“I’m trying to open the torpedo bays but nothing happens,” said Ensign Kim. “That pulse seems to have fried the controls. Should I run down and do it manually?”
“No time,” said Janeway, tapping her combadge. “All hands, this is Captain Janeway. I am ordering you to abandon ship. Get to the escape pods as quickly as possible and launch immediately. There will be no further transmissions. Good luck and godspeed.” To Kim, she said, “Hail the Maquis.”
“One second,” said Kim.
“That’s all we have.”
“On screen.”
Captain Chakotay’s haggard face appeared. “Captain!” he shouted. “Why are you sitting there? The Array is about to crush you and I have to take care of the Kazon!”
“We’ve lost propulsion and most controls. I’ve given the order to abandon ship. I’m asking you to lock onto as many life signs as possible, beam us to your ship, then rescue as many escape pods as possible.”
Chakotay swallowed hard but immediately began pounding commands into his console.
Scene 2
The next thing Janeway saw was a single bright light above her. As she blinked and turned her head away, she became aware of her surroundings. She was on a gurney – a scene all too familiar from her recent experience of being probed aboard the Caretaker’s Array. But the feel of it was different – not a high tech biobed, sensing her vitals with every breath, but an old-fashioned gurney, hard and creaky. She was not restrained, but her entire body ached like she’d gone a few rounds with a Klingon. A shadowy figure shifted behind the light source.
“Who are you?” she asked, pulling away. “Where am I?”
Chakotay stepped forward, half shadowed, to direct the light away from her face and put a soothing hand on her arm. “It’s me, Captain Chakotay. You’re aboard my ship, Val Jean.”
Janeway squinted into the darkness around her, but they were alone in a tiny sickbay. “Where is my crew? Are they all right?”
Chakotay hitched a hip onto the gurney and half-sat beside her, breathing a low sigh. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but as Voyager disintegrated – ”
“Voyager disintegrated?”
He nodded. “The explosion of the Array destroyed it. You were too close when you lost power. We’d already locked onto biosigns for the Maquis who'd come aboard, so we had no trouble bringing them back here, but the Starfleet crew ….” He looked away, reluctant to say the words.
“Yes?” asked Janeway in her most gravelly voice, pushing up to a seated position. She felt as if hands were tightening around her neck. Not this. Not here, decades of travel from any type of help, at the mercy of the man she'd been sent to arrest. Chakotay hesitated, then continued in a low, regretful voice.
“Only eighteen escape pods launched. The Kazon destroyed twelve and we managed to pick up six, with a total of nine crew members aboard.”
“The bridge crew didn’t make it to escape pods,” Janeway said, holding her breath to hear the worst news before calculating how many were lost.
“No. We did our best to target transporters starting with the bridge, but it’s an old system. The pattern buffers aren't reliable. You got pretty banged up rematerializing. You’ve been out for several days. How do you feel?” He checked a cuff on her wrist that blinked with her pulse, blood pressure, and blood oxygen, then put a warm hand to her forehead, like a parent checking on a sick child.
Janeway withdrew from his touch, clenching her jaw. “I'm fine. How many survived?”
“From the bridge we got you, Tuvok, Harry Kim, and Tom Paris. I’m sorry, that’s all that was possible.”
“Thirteen survivors of an original crew complement of 153.” Janeway put her hand to her mouth as bile rose, overwhelming her gag reflex. Chakotay shoved a metal basin in front of her just as she leaned over the edge of the gurney to vomit. He patted her shoulder.
“You still have transporter sickness. We’ve been giving you fluids. You need to rest.”
Janeway lay staring over the edge of the gurney. Her hair hung loose and fell around her in the dimly lit room, a veil hiding her stricken expression. Chakotay wanted to brush it back to see the face of the Starfleet captain sent to capture him, but when she'd recoiled from his previous, he realized how threatening his presence might be under the circumstances. She and her crew were effectively his prisoners in deepest space. He lifted his weight off the gurney and took a step back as a man in a medic's tunic entered Sickbay, carrying supplies.
“How did you know I was awake?” she asked.
“Your cuff.” He pointed at the narrow band snugged around her wrist, constantly updating the readout of her vitals and transmitting them to his command station. She was, after all, a Starfleet captain – a dangerous person to have loose on his ship. “I just came from the brig, where we’re holding the others. You were the worst at first, but Tuvok’s eyesight still hasn’t recovered.”
“He’s blind?” Janeway asked, running her fingers around the cuff, subtly testing its tension, thinking already of how best to remove it.
Chakotay nodded. “He can see light and dark a little. We're keeping him in a separate cabin where he can rest.”
Janeway fell back onto the thin pillow, holding her head with both hands. The half human, half Bajoran medic stepped up to peel off a patch on her neck.
“What are you putting on me? Are you a doctor?” Janeway asked, covering the side of her neck with her hand as he attempted to place a fresh patch on it.
Chakotay gestured to the man. “No. This is Goral, our field medic.”
“I’m a veterinary medic,” said Goral. “You’d be better off if you were a horse. I'm giving you vitamins. It's all I've got.”
“Right," said Chakotay. "We have him and a couple of medical tricorders. But my engineer downloaded an emergency medical program from Voyager at the last minute. We might be able to use it for diagnostics.”
Janeway winced but lowered her hand to give Goral access. “How did she get into Voyager’s database?”
“B’Elanna? She’s the best engineer I’ve ever known. If we had a shipyard, she could rebuild Voyager from schematics. Be grateful she took what she did. This is a Firefly class cargo ship, not a Starfleet vessel. We’re going to need every survival advantage we’ve got out here.” Chakotay showed her a hypospray. “I was going to give you this, if you don’t mind. It’s a mild painkiller. Best we can do.”
"I suppose if you wanted to hurt me, you had plenty of time while I was out." Janeway said, examining the hypospray. She put it to her neck, administered the dose, and moaned with relief as the medicine hit her system. “That’s … not mild at all,” she said, just before her head lolled and she lost consciousness. Chakotay took the hypospray from her limp hand and pulled up the blanket that had puddled on her lap.
“No,” he said to her unconscious form. “But we can’t have you wandering the ship, throwing up in corners and starting a mutiny while we’re trying to escape the Kazon, now can we?”
“I’ll keep an eye on her, Captain,” said Goral. “She’s trouble and no mistake.”
“No doubt. But we’re going to need every possible resource to get home, and a Starfleet captain’s nothing to throw away lightly. Take good care of her.”
Chakotay smoothed her hair and gazed at her for a few more seconds before hurrying away, oblivious to the dark form watching from the corridor.
Scene 3
Val Jean’s bridge was tight and dark compared to Voyager’s. Tom Paris, with his usual trickster maneuvers, had negotiated his way out of the brig and settled himself as if by divine right at the conn. B’Elanna Torres was at engineering, watching Tom like he was wielding live grenades, and Mike Ayala sat at tactical. Chakotay stood behind them, studying the data at their respective stations as they raced to keep ahead of Mage Cullah's ship.
“Any progress?” he asked.
“The Kazon Nistrim are still within a parsec and we can’t keep up this pace much longer without some new fuel source. I’m calculating trajectories that might let us drop them and regroup,” said B'Elanna, hands blurring across her console.
“That course will lead us straight into an asteroid field,” said Tom, glancing over B’Elanna’s shoulder even as he evaded the Kazon pursuit.
“I thought you could fly through anything, helm boy,” snapped Torres, pointing to a set of calculations on her display. “If I reinforce our shields with a triaxelating frequency, we can make it through that asteroid field just like we made it through the Badlands, and take out the Kazon fleet along the way.”
“Can you really do that?” asked Paris.
“She can,” said Ayala.
Paris looked up at Chakotay looming over him. This would be a long trip home without Kathryn Janeway to protect him from Chakotay, as she'd already done once.
“Is Captain Janeway awake yet?” he asked
“Not yet. She’s still sleeping off that rough transport, but the medic thinks she'll be all right,” said Chakotay, sounding slightly less menacing at the mere mention of Captain Janeway. Tom kept his attention on the conn but risked a few questions.
“What are you planning to do with her? And us?”
“You’re at the helm for now,” said Chakotay. “Do a good job and keep your nose clean and you’ll stay there. But get rid of that Starfleet uniform as soon as you're off duty. There’s a crate in the cargo bay full of spare clothes we carry for refugees. We’re one crew now – a Maquis crew.”
Tom whistled under his breath. “Can’t wait to hear what Captain Janeway has to say about that,” he muttered in a tone that should have been swallowed up by the noise of the ship – if it weren't for Chakotay's eerily good hearing.
“I’m your captain now,” said Chakotay in a growl. “Or to put it in terms you can understand – obey my orders and stay alive. Got that?” He gripped Tom’s shoulder with a powerful hand.
“Loud and clear, Captain,” said Tom.
“Mike, did you secure the water supply from the Talaxian?”
“I’ve got it behind a force field in the cargo bay,” said Ayala. “We’ll figure out what to do with him once we squeeze out of the current life or death situation.”
“Another typical day aboard Val Jean,” said Chakotay. “Have the Kazon changed course at all? Any sign they might be losing interest?”
“Not since they found us behind that moon. They’re not going to stop hunting us, you can be sure of that, thanks to Janeway,” said B’Elanna, spitting her words. “I can’t believe you brought her aboard, Chakotay. She’s dangerous and psychotic. Destroying the Array? Not to mention that traitor Tuvok.”
“Maybe so,” said Chakotay. “But they’re both experienced Starfleet officers who can help us make it home alive.”
B’Elanna snorted. “If they don’t kill us first. I still say someone told the Kazon where we were hiding. You’d think even Starfleet would have more survival instinct than that. We have a spy on board.”
Mike gave Chakotay a long look. “Just keep Janeway under control, that’s all I ask.”
Tom muttered under his breath.
“What’s that, Paris?” Chakotay demanded, looming over him.
“Better here than New Zealand, that’s all I’ve got to say.”
Behind Tom’s back, Mike nodded to Chakotay. Someone would have to keep an eye on both Kathryn Janeway and Tom Paris at all times.
Scene 4
Seska sat tapping at a portable terminal on the long mess table in the galley when Chakotay stepped through the door. The table accommodated at least twelve at long benches. Several more crew could squeeze around other tables in nooks, but it was tight, especially if they were going to integrate the new Starfleet crew into the rotation. The crew ate together in three shifts, surrounded by cabinets, replicators, and odds and ends to pass the time – games, books, holo visors. Seska clicked off her terminal, jumped to her feet, and wrapped her arms around Chakotay in a tight, sensual hug.
“What a luxury,” she said. “A few minutes alone together aboard this space zoo.” She kissed him but he pulled away as her tongue tried to push past his lips. Pointedly, he removed her hand from his ass and held it up.
“We’ve discussed this,” he said.
She smirked. “I keep hoping you’ll change your mind. Circumstances have changed. It’s going to be a long, lonely trip home and I do know how to keep you warm.”
“There’s something I need to tell you, Seska.” Chakotay disentangled himself from her and went for the tea canister in the nearest food locker. “I plan to offer Kathryn Janeway the job of first officer. I need her support to bring the crews together. I’m going to need yours too. ”
“Excuse me?” Seska said. “The person Starfleet sent to capture you? The woman who destroyed our only way home? What the hell are you thinking, Chakotay? You can’t let her out of the brig. She’ll mutiny as soon as she’s on her feet. They’ll take over this ship in fifteen minutes and put us off on the next M class planet – if we’re lucky!”
“No,” said Chakotay, spooning tea into a pot. They had replicators, but to him, they made everything taste metallic. He preferred his store of on-world food, as long as it lasted. “I’ve been thinking it over. I don’t think they will. Forty-two crew members working together give us all a better chance of survival, and let’s face it, our chances aren’t great even then. Seventy thousand light years from Earth, Seska, even if we traveled full warp in a straight line. Farther to Bajor. None of the old rules apply. You know the saying: keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer.”
“I don’t know that saying. Sounds like weak human garbage.”
Chakotay looked up from setting out two cups for tea. “You can be a little scary, Seska.”
Seska studied his face as he poured steaming water, focused on the ritual of tea-making. Her expression turned crafty and she edged up to him again. “Maybe you’re right. I’m willing to give her a chance if you are. I have something to tell you too. Since we’re short on cabin space with all the new arrivals, I moved my things into your quarters.”
“Move them out,” he said, settling a knitted tea cozy over the pot. “Now.”
“Oh come on, Chakotay. I know you’ll enjoy a blow job at the end of your duty shift every night.” She reached for the waist of his pants and he slapped her hand away.
“Stop it, Seska. You don’t take no for an answer, and it’s the only answer I’ve got. I told you, it’s over.” Chakotay put the mugs and pot on a tray and left the mess. By herself, Seska picked up the tea canister and stared at it blindly, lost in thought.
“You have no idea what’s good for you, Chakotay,” she said to the dark corners.
Scene 5
In the brig, a rectangular chamber now tightly packed with bunks, a dozen singed Starfleet crew members huddled in a circle on the floor as Neelix knelt to set a tray of emergency rations in front of them.
“I’m sorry it’s not nicer. I’m working on setting up the kitchen so I can cook for the whole crew. We need to conserve energy, so the replicators are restricted to essentials. Kes thinks she might be able to rig an airponics bay to grow food, like they used on the Ocampa homeworld.”
“We appreciate the effort,” said Harry Kim. “Do you know how long Chakotay plans to keep us in here?”
“Things are very tense right now as they try to figure out a way to escape the Kazon fleet. You can hear how hard the engines are working. Captain Janeway really made them mad. They had plans for that Array. But Val Jean’s crew is very resourceful, just like Voyager’s. They’ll get us out of here.”
“They’d stand a better chance if they had us,” said Lt. Carey. “Torres is an Academy dropout. I graduated third in my class.”
“Is there a ship’s doctor, or counselor?” asked Harry. He gestured to a woman curled on the farthest bunk, her back to them. “Megan hasn’t spoken since we came aboard. Her sister died in the explosion.”
“What about Tuvok?” said Carey. “He could help her. Harry said he saw all the bridge crew transport before he came over. Why isn’t Tuvok here? And Janeway? What have they done with the captain?”
Covering his words with the noise of the tray and metal utensils, Neelix whispered into Harry’s ear. “Tuvok was blinded by the transport. They’ve got him locked up by himself. And the captain’s still unconscious in Sickbay.” Then, more loudly, he said, “I’ll go and ask,” backing away as the rest of the Starfleet crew faced him with growing hostility. He slid out the door, guarded by an armed Maquis. As soon as they were alone, Carey spoke softly.
“It’s a safe bet there’s someone listening to anything we say in here. There may be nanocameras, but that’s a chance we have to take. Does anyone have a PADD?”
Everyone looked around. Ensign Ashmore patted himself down. “I was lucky to be next to an escape pod when Captain Janeway gave the order,” he said. “There was no time to grab anything.”
Harry nudged Carey and whispered the intel Neelix had given him. It moved quickly around the circle.
“All right,” said Carey loudly. “I guess we wait.” As he spoke, he climbed silently onto a top bunk, pulled out a tool he’d stashed in his sock, and began loosening the cover to a ventilation duct. Without a word, the crew began to move around, blocking possible camera angles, giving Carey cover.
Scene 6
Aboard Neelix’s ship, tucked into Val Jean’s cavernous cargo bay, Chakotay took notes on a PADD as Kes sipped her tea and described the Kazon.
“They always fear a trap. They’re extremely paranoid, because the sects are always at war. Any slight new advantage or disadvantage upsets the balance of power.”
“So you’re saying, if I ally Val Jean with one sect, it could have far-reaching consequences?”
“Exactly. The Kazon’s worst instincts are kept in check mostly by the knowledge that whatever they do, another sect is likely to do to them before too long,” said Kes. “Thanks again for the tea. We don’t have anything like it on Ocampa. I like it very much.”
“You can have as much as you like,” said Chakotay. “It’s one of the few things we’re not short of.”
Kes had just set down her mug when the little ship rocked and slammed hard onto the struts holding it off the deck. Red alert klaxons sounded and emergency lighting clicked on as Val Jean’s hull shuddered under repeated blasts. Chakotay jumped out of Neelix’s ship and hit the deck at a run, clambered up a ladder and careened down a corridor toward the bridge, almost colliding with Seska as she raced for her station at communications.
“REPORT!” Chakotay shouted as the viewscreen revealed the lead Kazon Nistrim ship bearing down on them, firing at will.
“I don’t know how they caught us,” said Ayala as he laid down phaser fire and Tom, wearing the Maquis clothing Chakotay had ordered, expertly dodged Kazon blasts. “We’ve been maneuvering around any obstacle we find and running as silently as we know how until B’Elanna has warp capacity maximized.”
“Where’s B’Elanna?” asked Chakotay.
“Right here,” B’Elanna growled, shoving past him to take her place at the engineer’s station. “I was tinkering with the warp drive but I guess it’s now or never.”
Tom drove Val Jean straight toward the nearby moon, pulled up hard, then used the weak gravity to slingshot off in a new direction. The Kazon ship behind them narrowly avoided crashing.
As B’Elanna worked to bring the warp engines online, Chakotay said, “We need to buy some time. Hail the lead ship, Seska.”
Seconds later, Mage Cullah’s angry face filled the screen with a snarl.
“Stand down and prepare to be boarded,” he said.
“This ship has committed no hostile acts against you, Cullah,” said Chakotay. “We’re not the ones who fired on the Array. That ship was destroyed.”
“Do you take me for a fool?” Cullah answered. “We detected the additional lifesigns aboard your ship. You're harboring Captain Janeway.”
“That’s right, I am. Sedated and in custody. It seems I have something you want. Let’s negotiate.”
“I have superior firepower. There’s no reason for me to negotiate. Prepare to be boarded.”
Chakotay came closer to the screen with a crafty look. “You might be mistaken about our firepower. Voyager had a full complement of photon torpedoes. Or maybe you could destroy us. But then what would you have? Rubble. You could board us, but I have a crew of seasoned warriors who will kill many of your best before initiating the self-destruct sequence. Again, rubble, plus casualties. I’ll offer you a better alternative. I give you Janeway and you let us go.”
Cullah tapped his fingers together. “She is … unharmed?”
Chakotay shrugged. “More or less.”
Cullah’s laugh was nasty. “At last, a human I can do business with. All right. Very well. Put her in a biosuit and deposit her on the surface of the moon. Withdraw to at least half a parsec. When we’ve retrieved her and confirmed that she is alive and unharmed, we’ll confirm that you are free to go. And Captain Chakotay?”
“Yes?”
“You would be well advised to leave Kazon space by the fastest route possible. The other mages are not as reasonable as I.”
Chakotay gestured to Harry to cut the transmission. “Harry, start testing transporters. B’Elanna, how close are we?”
On Ayala’s security console, another red alert began to flash. He turned to Chakotay and pointed at the display.
“Seems we have another emergency on our hands.”
Chakotay swore and rushed off the bridge