They'll kill him!

Janeway's mind screamed the statement over and over again in the seconds it took for her to materialize into blackness. She was so disoriented at the quick change from light to dark that she fell to her knees with a loud thud. The rough texture of typical Starfleet issue carpet massaged her palms, and her heart painfully skipped several beats. She knew that at least she was still on Voyager, probably in someone's quarters, safe. Unfortunately she couldn't say the same for Chakotay.

Lights! she called, panic threatening to clog her ailing lungs, making it hard for her to catch her breath. She gasped in great gulps of air, fear for her first officer effectively paralyzing her so that for the moment she could only crouch on the floor and take in her surroundings.

It was as she thought. Chakotay had sent her to someone's personal quarters. At first glance, the rooms looked abandoned, as if they were set aside as guest quarters for alien visitors. But there were no guest quarters on Voyager. These rooms had to belong to somebody. She looked around, still heaving, concentrating more on not hyperventilating than on discerning her surroundings. Her eyes landed on the door to the corridor.

Without further thought, she vaulted to her feet and wheezed, Computer, locate Commander Chakotay! while at the same time taking the few strides to the door. She was so intent on the rescue plan that had begun formulating in her mind that she didn't acknowledge the fact that the computer did not respond to her request for information, and the door neglected to move aside. Her forward motion was too fast to check, and she ran face first into the door, smacking her forehead on the hard frame. She scowled heavily, rubbing the tender skin over her brows. Computer, acknowledge! she commanded, but there was no response. Computer! she said again, frustrated. Chakotay must have suspended her voice pattern in the computer for everything except the most mundane commands, barring the possibility of anybody tracing her oral directions through the system and discover her hiding place. He'd also apparently sealed the door, keeping would-be assassins out, and effectively keeping her from wandering the corridors on a whim during her internment. Damn, she whispered, forced to concede that she couldn't just walk out the door and start ransacking the ship. For someone who was so thorough in his preparations for her safety, he was incredibly lax about looking out for himself.

Idiot, she whispered next, the sentiment spawned more by fear and worry for Chakotay's safety than her personal opinion of his espionage skills. She didn't doubt that he was now in the hands of the New Home Group, as long as they hadn't killed him the instant his figure emerged from the transporter beam. She easily suspected that the Group might have planned just such a reception. Unless, she considered, they simply planned to dump the transported bio-signature into the pattern buffer and scramble it beyond all recognition or recovery. That was also an effective way to neutralize a captain... or a first officer. Or they could have planned to beam their victim directly into space. Death was almost a certainty no matter what option she considered.

She chose not to consider any of them. Instead she began a methodic inventory of her current prison. Maybe she could find an access panel and hack into the computer system from there.

But before she could start, her gaze was arrested by several decorations hanging on the walls. The more she looked, Janeway slowly comprehended that she recognized some of the personal effects placed sparingly throughout the crew quarters. The picture near the replicator reminded her oddly of Chakotay, and a pile of what looked like isolinear chips rested on the desk next to the system's monitor. Realizing that if she could discern whose quarters she was in, then pinpoint where she was on the ship, she'd be in a much better position to help recover Chakotay. Spurred on by these thoughts, she glanced at the corner occupied by the bed, where a pair of gray exercise tights were flung carelessly across the coverlet. She'd seen those particular tights before, worn during a... combat training session... no, a hoverball... no, it was for one of Tuvok's defense classes, one she'd taken with B'Elanna Torres. The picture of Tom Paris tucked discreetly away on a corner table confirmed it. She was in B'Elanna's quarters.

It was a fortunate arrangement. B'Elanna surely had tools lying around that would conveniently help her in overriding Chakotay's orders to the computer, leaving her with an avenue of escape and the chance to help the commander. She started her search immediately.

Kathryn found the tool kit in the first place she looked - the closet. Grateful that Torres was anal enough to keep tools more suited to Engineering in her clothes closet, she quickly set to work on rerouting the voice command patterns through the desk monitor.

She had accomplished just enough to thoroughly mess up B'Elanna's computer when the seal in the door gave an audible click, allowing the portal to move aside. Kathryn dropped her tools and whirled towards the door just as fast, her phaser in hand, prepared to fire.

Good, I did remember to leave the lights on. Captain - B'Elanna entered her quarters and instantly faced the front end of the weapon aimed right at her head. Her sentence died on her lips and she froze just inside the door.

Kathryn could see the empty corridor just beyond B'Elanna, and she thought about running directly into the passageway. But she still didn't have access to the computer, and without it she would never be able to find Chakotay. She turned her attention back to the lieutenant. Which side are you on? she barked, unwilling to assume anything at this point.

B'Elanna stared at her stupidly, her mouth hanging open in a small oval. Wh... what?

B'Elanna, which side! Who do you support? I need to know now! The question was severe, but she didn't have time to delicately uncover whom she could trust and whom she couldn't. She had discovered long ago that a direct, unexpected question was the fastest means of obtaining information that might otherwise have been kept secret.

Torres blinked, regained her speech, and answered, Yours! Now put that thing away and get back! Someone might see you! She hastily stepped further into the room, completely disregarding the phaser after her own brusque order. The door slid smoothly shut and sealed, blocking any further entry.

At the woman's words, Kathryn lowered the phaser and without losing another second, blurted, They have him! You have to find out where... I can't access the computer, and they might kill him if they haven't already!

B'Elanna's lips had formed a question before the captain was even finished speaking, but she checked herself. So much had happened so quickly that she was beginning to take outlandish statements on faith, trusting that she would eventually understand without asking burdensome questions. Who? was the only thing she needed to know right now.

Chakotay! Janeway silently kicked herself for leaving that important piece of information unspoken.

B'Elanna didn't waste any more time. Computer, locate Commander Chakotay.

*Commander Chakotay is in cargo bay two.*

They used the cargo transporter, Janeway said, almost to herself, her mind racing. The computer's default was set to scan for individual comm badge signals, not bio-signatures. His comm badge could be in the cargo bay and he could be floating in space, thousands of kilometers behind the ship by now. She reached up to indicate her lack of a badge, furiously trying to communicate her thoughts to B'Elanna without wasting further time with talk.

B'Elanna understood the gesture. Computer, scan for Commander Chakotay's bio-signature. Where is he?

Janeway was stealing herself to hear the words saying that he was no longer on the ship, but the computer only repeated, *Commander Chakotay is in cargo bay two.* She exhaled a breath of relief. He's alive. But maybe not for long. She turned to B'Elanna and tightly clutched her phaser. We have to get him out of there. I want you to call Tuvok, have him assign a security detail, plus backup if he has enough trusted officers. The two of us will meet -

Captain! B'Elanna was already moving around her quarters, gathering equipment she might need, and her expletive cut off her commanding officer in mid sentence. Don't be brainless! If you go outside these quarters, there's a good chance that some New Home person will decide to have target practice the minute they see you. I can't keep you safe if you're hounding my back, and if anything happens to you, Chakotay will kill me. You're staying here!

Lieutenant...! Kathryn began argumentatively.

Don't make me sedate you! Torres threatened, completely serious and just as unruffled by the fact that Janeway was an armed opponent. After a moment of heavy thought, the captain accepted she was right, and subsided, scowling. B'Elanna went on, Give me a chance to find Tuvok so we can figure out what to do next. She grabbed a phaser of her own from behind a panel near the replicator.

Still scowling heavily, frustrated by the situation, Janeway managed to collect enough lost dignity to make herself sound professional as she said, Very well. But keep me informed! Don't leave me here to wonder what's happening. Now, Chakotay said something about a meeting to talk through -

I know, Captain, Torres interrupted, ruthlessly determined not to let the captain's good intentions distract her. She headed for the door, her bundle of tools under her arm. If I know him, he's probably already setting it up.

Unless this is now a hostage situation, the captain realistically warned. They might want to trade him for me.

B'Elanna turned at the door to reassuringly say, He would never agree to that.

Janeway nodded, calm and collected now. It was the calm that made her next words all the more frightening. I know, and that's what worries me, she quietly said.

B'Elanna paused a moment for a last look at Janeway. Her expression successfully conveyed that she understood this new development perfectly. She too had feelings for Chakotay and, like Janeway, would suffer if anything happened to him. But she left her quarters without another word.

Chakotay glared at the group clustered around him. I will not become a hostage! I thought I had already explained that!

Someone near the middle of the group yelled, We wouldn't need a hostage if you hadn't interfered!

Chakotay glanced over the gathered crowd, trying to discern who had spoken. But the thirty or so crewmembers surrounding him in the cargo bay were standing so closely packed together that he couldn't tell. His survey only produced more angry rumbles from people that for the past several years he had considered his friends. Angry at being forced into these circumstances by a crew who should largely know better, he said, It's a good thing I did interfere, or you would be facing Captain Janeway right now. His tone indicated that he thought the consequences of facing the captain would be a lot worse than the consequences of his interference. To illustrate that point, he went on, Unless you were planning to kill her.

At his blunt accusation, a few of those crewmembers nervously muttered softly among themselves, their weapons wavering in their hands, not knowing what to do with their unexpected visitor or the circumstances they had unwittingly created. Then Ensign Chell tentatively moved forward to face the irate officer, his voice quavering only a little. Things haven't exactly worked out like we'd thought. We only wanted to talk to Captain Janeway.

Ensign Carr shot Chell a scathing glance from her place at the rear of the group. It's too late for talk! she said curtly. I knew this was a bad idea, but you always want to talk things out. You're just like Joe. I thought we had already explained that talking doesn't work, not with Janeway.

No, not if you're trying to kill her at the same time, Chakotay sarcastically pointed out.

Lauren turned to look at Chakotay, her face set in an expression of disappointment. Save it, Commander. We know whose side you're on. Her voice lacked any malice, and when she turned away, she didn't have the look of an embittered victim, as Chakotay might have expected from a New Home member. She simply looked tired.

Chakotay sighed sympathetically. Why don't you sit down, Lauren. You don't look like you feel well.

Ensign Carr whirled around to face him again. I said save it!

Or what? Chakotay challenged, his sympathy dissolving under her irritated gaze. You'll shoot me? Well, go ahead. While you're at it, why don't you eliminate the entire command staff, solving all your problems. In the recent words of our captain, I can't stop you. He leaned against a packing crate and crossed his arms, his expression scathing.

Why don't you just tell us where the captain is and save us all a lot of trouble, she suggested derisively.

Chakotay recognized leverage when he saw it. He had declared his refusal to become a hostage, but he wasn't above withholding valuable information for later use, either. Her words reminded him that he still had the opportunity and even an obligation to turn this situation around for more open negotiations. Reigning in his anger, Chakotay pursed his lips and shook his head, though he kept his arms tightly crossed on his chest. I can't do that.

Why? Are you afraid that if you tell, we'll shoot you then?

No, that you'll shoot her. When nobody responded, he goaded, That is what you want, isn't it? His gaze danced from person to person, gauging their reactions. Each time his eyes met those of another crewmember, he or she hastily looked away. The discomfort had reached exponential proportions by the time he came around to Lauren Carr again. Isn't it? he asked her specifically. She stared at him, mute. You've spent the last three days attempting to assassinate Captain Janeway, and now you're saying that's not what you want at all?

What we want is to get off this ship, Ayala informed him shortly.

Chakotay shook his head again. You don't want off the ship, he informed in return. You're a security officer, Ayala. What are you going to do on some planet? Protect the rest of the group from bad weather? The comment brought a ripple of tense laughter from the gathered group in the cargo bay. Suspecting he might have touched on a potentially persuasive topic, he continued, What about Joe Carey? An engineer without an engine should get pretty bored being a farmer on some uninhabited planet.

Incensed at his mention of the lieutenant, Ensign Carr spat, You don't know anything about Joe!

He ignored her, opting to personalize the conversation even further. And what are you going to do, Ensign Carr? I know that your first love is science. Once off the ship, you won't have access to any equipment necessary for future experiments. I've experienced a scientist's loss of experimental equipment: it's not a happy existence.

She took the bait. Brought up short by the well-timed mention of her chief interest, Carr eyed him distrustfully. What are you talking about? she asked through tight lips.

At any other time, Chakotay would have hesitated before revealing too much about this subject without properly discussing it with Janeway first. But to hesitate now would be taken as prevarication by the crew. He wanted the truth from this group as much as he had while talking to the captain, and in order to get truth, he knew it must be entrusted first. He started to explain, About a month after Captain Janeway and I were left behind on the planet we named New Earth, our house was hit by a plasma storm. It was the worst storm either of us had ever seen, and it destroyed every single piece of scientific equipment that she needed to find a cure for our disease so we could leave the planet and hopefully reunite with Voyager. She tried hard to pretend that it didn't matter, but it did.

Lauren Carr dramatically rolled her eyes and peevishly said, We really don't want to hear about the hardships of the poor -

Chakotay interrupted, ignoring her in favor of pursuing his advantage. She was devastated. It was three days before she said anything about her research, and that's a long time when there's nothing else to do but clean up and work on personal projects. He managed a regretful sigh as he remembered. Those were empty days. It's not much of a life for a scientist. He looked at Lauren Carr, who was still interested in spite of her attitude. It had not occurred to him until then that telling such a story would give the group of listeners a little insight into their misunderstood captain's personal life, making her appear more personable, more accessible, more like them. Chakotay speculatively eyed the ensign. She didn't have a choice in what happened, but you do. Is that the kind of life that you want, Lauren?

Ensign Carr stared at Chakotay, silently watching him for a long time before she quietly said, You don't have any idea what I want, Chakotay.

Chakotay slowly eased away from the packing crate. You're right, I don't. He walked carefully through the crowd, his eyes still scanning each crewmember he passed, judging, trying to ascertain more weaknesses in this group that he could exploit. He needed to gain the upper hand with these people if he was to convince them to call a truce long enough to start negotiations with the command staff. But he was running out of time. He knew that the captain would have every trusted member of the crew trying to find him by now, and if Tuvok or one of his security teams broke into the cargo bay, a firefight was a very real possibility. He decided that a more direct approach was in order. Let me tell you why I don't know what you want.

Don't bother - Ayala started to say, but Chakotay cut him off.

Humor the prisoner for a moment, Ensign, he said, and he was pleased to notice the discomfort he'd caused by referring to himself as a prisoner. Ayala remained quiet, giving him the freedom to say, I don't know what you want because you never bothered to tell me. Just like you never bothered to tell Captain Janeway.

Oh, yes we did! several members spoke at once, gesturing wildly with their weapons.

Chakotay kept a close eye on the waving phasers, ignoring the nervousness that had started to twist in his stomach. Oh, I know you talked to her. Several times, in several locations. But I think you promoted slightly different agendas. You claim to want off the ship? Then why bother killing its captain? What difference does it possibly make who's captain of Voyager if you aren't planning to be here? He shook his head, forcing his face into a mask of indifference even while his heart beat quickly in his chest. He did his best to keep track of each phaser in the room. My theory is that you want to get rid of Janeway and set me up as captain.

Of course we want to get rid of Janeway! was the injudicious reply to his taunt. More dangerous mutterings filtered from around the gathering.

So he wouldn't know which crewmember had spoken, Chakotay kept his eyes focused on Ensign Carr, the unheralded leader of the group in Carey's absence. Though he felt his face go numb at the admission, he maintained his tight mask of control. He said to her, Then you might as well get rid of me too, because I go where she goes. He let his voice trail to silence after his own admission, and the silence hung eerily in the empty spaces of the cargo bay. When he went on, his voice took on the hollow quality of all that empty space. Once I'm gone, you'll have to deal with Tuvok. Then with B'Elanna Torres. Then, he went on relentlessly, his voice rising, Tom Paris. After that, Harry Kim. Once you have control of the ship, you won't have anybody left with the ability to command it. Then, just on the chance the other half of the crew has been patient up to that point, you'll more than likely have a mutiny. People will die. You'll have to kill your own friends to maintain control. Then, you will have nothing."

The truth of this is-

Chakotay once again broke off Carr's entreaties. The truth, Ensign, he vehemently stated, is that you need the captain far more than she needs you. Janeway may not be the perfect family leader, but she understands Starfleet and Starfleet ships. She knows strategy, Voyager's strengths and weaknesses, and she has far more first contact experience than any other captain in the fleet, something none of you have at all. Whether you like her or not, she is our only hope of surviving out here. If you kill her, you'll kill all of us. And that's why I will never tell you where she's hiding. I'll die first.

Though a noble sentiment, Commander, that will hardly be necessary, Tuvok suddenly said in his polite version of Vulcan sarcasm, surprising them all. As one body, thirty heads whipped around to stare. Just inside the open door of the cargo bay stood Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, phaser in hand, preceded by an embarrassed Lieutenant Carey.

Joe! Lauren called, her voice conveying confusion, anxiety, and fear. Chakotay knew how she felt; every attack on Kathryn's safety, no matter the cause, invariably made his heart jump into his throat. Apparently Lauren Carr's inclinations for the lieutenant were similar to his for the captain. For the first time he felt an affinity for the woman.

Carey glared at Tuvok, then turned his attention to the group. I found her. She's in Torres's quarters, naturally, he reported, then went on to admit, I planned to beam her out so we could talk, but Tuvok found me first.

Kathryn had never felt so helpless in her life. At least twenty minutes had passed since Lieutenant Torres left to look for Tuvok, and nobody had bothered to report the crew's activities to their hidden captain. Not knowing what might be happening was driving her to distraction.

She took yet another useless turn around B'Elanna's tiny quarters, though the cramped pacing only served to compound her agitation. However, she turned and paced some more. Pacing was better than her other alternative; it kept her from thinking. Thinking led to fretting, which in turn led to worry. She didn't want to worry about Chakotay, didn't want to wonder if he was alive or dead, didn't want to care one way or the other. But after constantly forcing herself not to care, she was beginning to find how much energy it took to maintain her indifference. It didn't matter anyway. She cared deeply about Chakotay, she knew it, and now so did he. Pretending, especially when there was nobody present to pretend for, was ridiculous.

Realizing she was fighting a losing battle, Janeway strode to the couch and sat down. The worrying started immediately, which was equally as useless as the pretended unconcern. She ruthlessly took control of her overworked imagination, determined not to succumb to hysteria. What she needed to do now was think, clearly and concisely, about what she planned to do if she ever had the chance to confront the New Home Group again. Instead she once more found herself dwelling on Chakotay.

Why had it taken her so long to figure out? She needed him, both personally and professionally. Without her permission or even her acknowledgment, he had come to represent both parts of her life in a way that nobody else on the ship could, though she habitually strove to keep the barriers between them intact. The barriers had done far more damage than good in the end. She had been a fool to believe that she could successfully separate her personal and professional lives. She was beginning to understand how the two necessarily overlapped, how one balanced the other, and without that balance, it was indicative of her personality to overcompensate in one direction or the other. Because she put all her energies into the professional side of her existence, her private life had suffered to such an extent that it had practically become extinct, damaging her professional abilities in the process. Like anything in the universe, neither part of her could survive without its opposite. Chakotay acted as the mediator between her two sides, bringing a reluctant order to the constant war she suffered on account of her buried affections for him.

The circumstances currently plaguing Voyager perfectly illustrated that. It embarrassed her to know that the situation might not exist at all if she'd had enough courage to simply talk to him beyond the confines of their cursory command relationship. She supposed it all boiled down to trust; not that she didn't trust him, but that she didn't trust herself, as if she was afraid that needing him in any capacity diminished her somehow. Of course that wasn't the case. After all, she had always suspected that he harbored affection for her, but it had never occurred to her to believe that those affections diminished him in any way. Not once did she think he was incapable of performing his duties because he loved her. The idea was outlandish. She was simply terrified of any kind of personal commitment with a fellow officer.

And now, because she had been so afraid to relate to Chakotay on a personal level that she was unable to relate to him professionally as well, a quarter of the crew wanted to dispose of her. The predicament seemed grim at its best, damning at its worst. She was responsible for the well-being of each person under her command, and she had only been able to prove that she couldn't even take care of herself, let alone the crew. How could she ask these people to remain under her command if they couldn't even believe in her ability to empathize with their cause? They didn't know the real state of affairs between her and Chakotay. She could never expect them to understand her past decisions. Kathryn wasn't sure she understood her past decisions anymore.

Which, oddly enough, gave her an idea. Suddenly she wondered what that portion of crewmembers would think of her if they knew how foolish their commanding officer had been. Would telling them about it impact this mess in a positive way, she deliberated? Could information like that help them to better understand the needs and concerns of each group? From the very beginning of this incident, none of them had been completely honest with anybody; perhaps if she offered at least an explanation for some of her past behavior, they might be encouraged to listen long enough to negotiate an end to the present hostilities.

Kathryn was not convinced that this ploy would work. The New Home Group had no reason to trust her at this point, and she had little reason to trust them. The fact that they all needed each other should have been an excellent incentive to try their best to work through their difficulties, but Humans, for all their arrogance and bravado, rarely did what common sense dictated was for the best. Selfishness inevitably got in the way of good intentions. At this point, she at least had no reason to be selfish; she had nothing more to lose.

She only wished two things: ironically, that she had time to discuss this idea with Chakotay first, and that she had some way to guarantee that the New Home Group might believe what she had to say. Unfortunately, she had no control over either wish. Common sense told her it would be prudent to come up with another plan.

But before she could formulate an alternate strategy, the seal on the door clicked for the second time and B'Elanna Torres burst into her quarters. Kathryn jumped to her feet, one question on her mind. B'Elanna spoke before she could ask. Chakotay's fine, Captain. In fact, he seems to have worked another miracle; the Group is willing to talk. They've asked that Neelix mediate, but they won't release Chakotay until they've reached some kind of agreement with you.

They wanted Neelix? It made sense, she decided. Neelix had no past ties to either Starfleet or the Group, hence no hidden agendas in that political arena. Besides being the only Delta Quadrant native who understood the stakes in this instance, he was also Voyager's official ambassador, though she was sure he'd never anticipated using that distinction on internal affairs. She hoped for everybody's sake that he fully comprehended what he needed to do, especially if the situation escalated from grim to downright ugly. Is Chakotay their hostage then?

The engineer hesitated. Not exactly. You know how Chakotay is, Captain. One minute they're using him like he's their prisoner, the next he's yelling at them for being so stupid to need a prisoner in the first place. Torres grinned, enjoying the turn of events. I think the Group got more than they bargained for when they transported the wrong person to the cargo bay.

Three cheers for Commander Chakotay, Janeway murmured, grinning as well. She went on, We shouldn't keep them waiting. I'm ready.

B'Elanna stopped Janeway's enthusiasm by placing a restraining hand on her arm. Just a minute, Captain. I think you should know that the mood in the cargo bay isn't good. They're willing to talk, but Tuvok's been reading them the Starfleet riot act for the last five minutes, and it was only through a lot of Chakotay's charm that they're letting you in at all. They still have their weapons, and I think they're willing to use them. Right now, they're not very happy with you, she warned.

Janeway calmly eyed her lieutenant. The feeling is mutual, she informed shortly.

I doubt that they think anything can come of talking at this point, B'Elanna continued relentlessly. According to them, you don't have anything they want.

Janeway made a show of checking her phaser to give herself time to calm her growing anger. On the contrary, Lieutenant Torres, I have exactly what they want.

B'Elanna paused, clearly startled by this opinion. Slowly she said, That may be. But if worse comes to worst, I just hope that whatever you have is worth Chakotay's life.

Janeway's gaze met B'Elanna's. The look that passed from the engineer informed the captain that if anything happened to the commander, she planned to hold Janeway personally responsible. In light of all that could potentially go wrong in the next thirty minutes, it was a minor burden. In clipped tones, Janeway commanded, Let's go.

The two calmly left the lieutenant's quarters and headed for the nearest turbolift. Janeway felt B'Elanna's eyes trained on her the entire way, coldly studying with her Klingon warrior's intuition. She was still staring, though in more furtive glances, when they attained the turbolift. Finally the captain bluntly stated, If you have something more to say to me, B'Elanna, say it.

I talked to Seven of Nine earlier. B'Elanna turned her eyes forward now to gaze steadily at the closed lift doors. The only thing they heard after that statement was the hum of the lift motors.

Judging from the look on the engineer's face, the captain had been expecting her to be far more censorious. Janeway didn't know how to take that comment. Perhaps B'Elanna had intended to say something completely different, and changed her mind. Does this mean she's in league with the New Home Group?

No. Seven mentioned that she had noticed an unusual energy spike in the neural links to her alcove earlier. She believed that someone on board the ship was using the remains of the Borg technology to disguise the unauthorized use of a transporter.

Yes, Janeway began woodenly, sick to hear that Chakotay's suspicions might be confirmed, Chakotay had heard -

B'Elanna went on as if Janeway had not even spoken. Then she said that it had happened again approximately twenty-four minutes ago. I naturally asked why she hadn't reported either incident to me. She looked down in chagrin. I admit that at first I thought it was because she doesn't like the fact that I'm in charge of her alcove and its technologies. But it turns out that she did report the first occurrence... to Lieutenant Carey.

The captain's eyebrows rose. That explains a few things.

B'Elanna's expression looked slightly less fierce. She almost smiled. I told her about the New Home Group. From her observations so far, she declared they support nothing but chaos, which for a Borg is quite an insult. She had that superior expression on her face when she said it... you know the one I'm talking about, when she looks like she's sneering but really isn't? The captain nodded. I think you have an unexpected ally.

Janeway glanced at B'Elanna in surprise. Unexpected is the correct word, Lieutenant. Then she sighed, wishing there was no need for allies. This situation grows more convoluted all the time.

Torres agreed. It's worse than politics, she muttered just as the lift arrived at the appropriate deck, halting any further conversation.

They walked unmolested down the unusually deserted corridor, though B'Elanna's hand never left the butt of her phaser. Kathryn noticed the precaution, but didn't comment. So many things that she had taken for granted had recently upended that it was oddly comforting to know that B'Elanna, at least, supported her.

But even this supposition was not necessarily true. When they reached the doors to cargo bay two, B'Elanna paused again, one hand poised over the door mechanism. She looked at Janeway, clearly planning to give her more warnings. Captain, Chakotay wanted me to remind you that this probably won't be pleasant. You're on trial from this point on, and he wants you to be prepared.

Janeway bristled at the reminder. I think I can handle a few disgruntled crewmembers, B'Elanna.

It's more than just a few, Captain, Torres explained. They have an awful lot of complaints, and they're angry. These people want changes, and they said they'd rather kill you than waste more time trying to work with you or Starfleet policies. So watch yourself.

She turned away then to work the door release, leaving Janeway gaping and unprepared as the portal swished aside. The captain quickly snatched at the shreds of authority she had left after the lieutenant's announcement, pulling herself hastily together. The effect she managed was one of too much authority, as if she expected obedience, which only fed the gathered crewmember's already poor opinion of their leader. Her sudden appearance interrupted what must have been a heated debate. She heard the tail end of angry mutterings before she even crossed the threshold. Off to a bad start, Janeway decided she couldn't make things any worse by taking a quick, appraising look around. What she saw shocked her further.

B'Elanna had not exaggerated when she claimed that more than a few members of the crew were waiting to speak with her. The cargo bay was full. Nearly one hundred men, women, and aliens wearing the reds, blues, and golds of Starfleet surveyed her as she made her entrance. Only a few appeared remotely friendly. She practically choked.

But on closer inspection, she realized that not all the unfriendly glances were aimed at her. Though the members of the New Home Group that she could pick out from the crowd glared at her with open animosity, many more of the crew had their own angry expressions trained on Group members. As she briefly wondered how so many uninformed crewmembers had heard about the Group so quickly, a pang of despair hit her; all her efforts to keep the New Home Group and their wishes a secret had come to nothing. The differing opinions of so many people had finally caused the rift among the crew she had feared from the beginning. Though she had expected this on some level, reality nonetheless caused a knot of sadness in her stomach. She had deluded herself into thinking that Voyager's crew would always support itself. Now if she wasn't careful, there wouldn't be a crew for Voyager at all.

Determined not to let that happen, Janeway moved the rest of the way into the bay, allowing the door to close behind her. A sensation that she was sacrificing herself to this mob engulfed her, and she hesitated. Her movement captured everybody's gaze again, and she found herself once more the center of attention. Captain and crew surveyed each other as enemies meeting under a tentative truce in hopes of averting a gory battle. The glares she received were not encouraging. From the way it looked to Janeway, the trial had already begun.

As she walked further into the room, heading for Mr. Neelix and what appeared to be a gathering of the two factions' leaders, the captain's gaze scoured the crowd for some sign of Chakotay. She had expected to sight him instantly upon entering the bay, but all at once it occurred to her that the Group might not allow him to be at these proceedings at all. Her concern compounded the longer he remained hidden from her. Fear quickly overrode any other emotions. Had they killed him then and nobody was willing to tell her? Finally she paused, ten feet short of joining Neelix, Tuvok, Joe Carey, and Lauren Carr, fully prepared to refuse to negotiate if they wouldn't give some physical assurance of his safety when she caught sight of him.

He was surrounded by a circle of New Home members, present yet cleverly cut off from helping her by a living fence. He stood solidly in the center of his prison, unmoving, his arms crossed on his chest, wearing the stormiest expression she'd ever seen displayed on his face. His displeasure with his confinement was apparent even from across the shadowy cargo bay. Still, when he was certain he had her attention, he carefully let the stormy anger melt into a soft, purposeful smile that somehow traversed the mass of bodies separating them to reach her in an unanticipated display of affection and support. The fear receded instantly. Warmth flooded through her, almost as if he had gently touched her on the cheek. Janeway was so relieved to find him safe, and surprised at the intensity of that relief that she nodded and returned the gesture without thinking.

The dangerous mutterings ceased abruptly. In some way the crew was aware of the communication occurring between the two commanding officers. They were as surprised by it and the form it took as Janeway. She turned away from Chakotay's eyes only to find many more studying her in sudden bewilderment, Lauren Carr visibly the most affected. The hostilities were forgotten for a moment while everybody acknowledged that they had just witnessed a new part of the equation that nobody had predicted.

The moment passed quickly. Carr's expression was the first to revert to one more antagonistic in appearance. It reminded Janeway that, despite smiles that made her pleasantly giddy, Chakotay wasn't in a position to help her. She was on her own, as she'd always thought she needed to be. As she covered the last few feet to join Neelix, she was forced to appreciate the ironic twist of her position on her own.

Mr. Neelix, she acknowledged in a neutral tone, doing her best to keep any emotions out of her voice. Lieutenant Carey, Ensign Carr.

Captain. The ensign's voice was cold and unforgiving. She had already disregarded the recent and perplexing display of affection in favor of the complaints at hand.

The frigidity of the ensign's welcome was overruled by the gentility of Neelix. Well, he said and clapped his hands together and smiled, his expression revoltingly optimistic considering the grimness of the situation. Now that you're here, Captain, shall we begin?

Chapter 7 || Contents || Chapter 9