by Kim

          Fall, 2002

          Disclaimer: I'm shocked that I even have to mention that I don't own these characters.

          She patted her neck with a damp cloth, glaring at him. "How much longer?"

          "Pretty much the same as when you asked B'Elanna five minutes ago." He stared her down, and just as she was about to open her mouth, he put up a warning finger. "Do I have to remind you what you promised last time?"

          She closed her mouth primly. "I remember my promises, Mr. Chakotay."

          "There are rations riding on it."

          Kathryn Janeway pulled herself up to every bit of her 1.67 meters of height. "You put up rations on whether or not I would swear?"

          "I didn't. Tom's making the book. He beat me to it." He laughed at her. "Don't you think for one minute that I wouldn't. This is a sure winner for whoever catches you. Don't think someone won't."

          "They won't because I won't." She leaned back against the bulkhead of her ready room, trying for some coolness to radiate down her back.

          "Of course not, Kathryn," he replied, not a dimple in sight. If it weren't for the twinkle in his eye, she'd think he was serious. He had big bucks riding on this one, she was sure.

          "How much longer?" she asked again.

          "We don't know. B'Elanna hasn't even figured out what the problem is yet. I had an impromptu meeting with Neelix and Tom. I've given them free reign on a holodeck party tonight, unlimited cold beverages. Tuvok and Harry report that they have found a planet that might be suitable for us to land on to cool down the ship, even if B'Elanna doesn't get the life support systems functioning properly. I've also posted ship wide announcements about the newest changes in uniform requirements. If we need to, we'll vent two of the cargo holds. That will reduce the ambient temperature for a few hours at least a few degrees."

          She shook her head. It was a standard procedure, but it usually had some disastrous side effects - the Captains' Clubs all over the Alpha Quadrant heard stories about lost equipment or damaged hulls. Usually the stories were funny. Sometimes they weren't. Venting the cargo hold was the last thing she would want to order.

          No, a nice glacier would be a much better choice.

          She looked at him as she felt the sweat drip down her neck. She was certain she didn't look as good as he did, despite the fact that both of them were only wearing their tanks and whatever shorts had been found in their quarters. Replication of clothing, even for uniforms, was currently not an option. All possible power was diverted to the life support system, to get the ship's temperature down.

          She acknowledged the chime and the Doctor was admitted to her ready room and again she tried not to smile at his latest costume change. Today's presentation had to be a recommendation from Tom - the shorts displayed a loud Hawaiian print with bright purple hibiscus flowers. Chakotay immediately began to examine the starfield through the viewport.

          "The rest of the crew has gone to the more, or rather, less heat-containing clothing," the Doctor had stated when she first saw him in regulation tank top and a very small, tight swimsuit.

          "The Speedo's a bit much," she had replied.

          His puzzlement had been genuine. "A bit much?"

          She had muffled the pun that was threatening to erupt under a command stance. "Doctor. This outfit is not at all becoming a senior officer of this ship. Talk to Commander Chakotay about an appropriate change in attire."

          Today's uniform was still with the tank top, but at least his legs were not as entirely visible as they had been when the "heat wave" began. Struggling to maintain dignity, she nodded at him to enter her room, and noticed that today; he had beads of sweat across his forehead.

          "Hot enough to make hologram sweat." She awaited Chakotay's response, but he found some aspect of her ceiling fascinating and refused to meet her eye.

          "Captain. I wanted to make my report, but Mr. Tuvok informed me that you're not leaving your ready room today."

          Those had been her words, not leaving until the problem was found. She hadn't meant them literally, but Tuvok was being very literal this week. Maybe that's how the heat got to Vulcans. She'd have to ask B'Elanna if Vorik was acting the same way.

          "The ambient temperature of the ship at the core is now over forty-eight degrees Centigrade, Captain. Or if you prefer, over 120 degrees farenheit."

          She looked at him wearily. "I know, Doctor. We all know."

          "It is my responsibility as CMO to notify you when the safety of the crew is at risk."

          The exec looked at him with a frown. "We know this, Doctor."

          "Getting a little testy from the heat, I'm sure," the hologram backtracked. "Chell has been put into stasis. That makes all of the Bolian crewmembers in stasis for the duration."

          Kathryn found it in her heart not to envy them. She reminded herself that the temperature reduction in stasis didn't change the feelings of oppression. When they woke up, they'd still be as cranky as everyone else.

          "How long?" she asked again. How long?

          The duty shifts had been adjusted to a four-hour shift on duty, then eight hours off. It reduced the speed that the engineering staff might find the problem, but so far, nothing was off spec, off-line, or even out of whack. Diagnostics were useless. This job was going to require each gel pack and relay to be individually inspected.

          The shuttles were running constantly, taking people on four-hour rides in comfortable coolness. The mess hall was stocked with icy beverages and cold platters. The limit on personal rations for showers was lifted.

          "Captain to the bridge."

          At least the summons would mean that she could leave the Doctor to finish up his report to Chakotay. She smiled ruefully at her officers and stepped up onto the bridge even as Lieutenant Ayala was coming in from the turbo lift.

          "Another contact from the Esor, Captain."

          She nodded and sank down into her seat. It was a daily check-in from the Esor Domain. Their safe passage through this sector of space was granted on contingency of scheduled contact and complete compliance to a flight plan that had been provided. Tom had scanned it and approved it as a safe route through the territory, but he hadn't relinquished the helm to the programmed piloting program. Kathryn hadn't asked him why he stayed, just assumed that whatever was concerning him was enough that it required his attention, but not enough to bring it to his commanding officer's attention.

          She liked that in her officers. She wouldn't ask him to explain, just let him do his job.

          On the other hand, B'Elanna needed a lot more supervision. No, she didn't need supervision, she needed another hand. Maybe after this contact Kathryn thought she could spare an hour in the Jeffries tubes. No one spent more than that, anyway.

          Today's contact was hailing her, and she chose to remain in her seat. "This is Captain Kathryn Janeway."

          Deep violet eyes, pale skin, raven black hair - the people were exquisitely beautiful. Their manners were precise; their words were clear and exact. It had been a textbook first contact and Kathryn had been more than willing to follow their requests for a predetermined flight plan.

          "Madame Deedum," Kathryn attempted a smile. "How nice of you to call us personally today."

          The false smile from the Esorian official matched the captain's. "It is always prudent to maintain awareness of one's underlings, don't you think?"

          Kathryn tilted her head, nodding, hoping that this would convey assent without insulting her crew by verbally agreeing with the sentiment.

          "We have noticed a peculiar activity around your ship," the official continued. "Several small craft have been leaving your ship on a regular basis."

          Another false smile on the captain's face as she replied graciously, "We hope this has not been a problem. We have been running some training drills for our people, using our time in this peaceable stretch of space to good ends."

          "It might be construed as slightly offensive, Captain. As if you were preparing for something… less peaceable."

          "Drills often seem that way, don't they," Kathryn allowed the stillness to grow between them before continuing her reassurance. "These drills are for safety procedures for my crew in the case of a ship-wide problem. They maintain no warlike posture and return within hours of leaving the ship. Is it a problem, Madame Deedum?"

          Violet eyes shifted right, then left, then returned to focus on the captain. "No, as you have explained it, our concerns are now allayed."

          Kathryn hoped that Tom's snort wasn't picked up by the comm unit. "We would like to further our drills while we have the opportunity, Madame Deedum. We would like to investigate this planet - Tuvok, send her the coordinates - as a possible site for another training session on land."

          Kathryn wouldn't have thought such white skin could go even paler. "You wish to go there?"

          "Yes. My tactical officer has scanned the planet. It looks adequate for our purposes."

          Madame Deedum pulled back away from the comm unit, muting the sound. She spoke with an unseen companion for a minute, then returned to the link.

          "As you will, Captain. How long will you be there?"

          "Several days, at least. Besides our drill, it looks like a pleasant enough planet. I plan to give my crew some shore leave."

          The Esorian repeated her assent. "Daily contacts will be maintained, as per our agreement."

          "Of course."

          With the closing of the comm link, five people on the bridge turned back to their stations. Tuvok and Tom read several scans of the planet, each noting acceptable landing locations. Harry even added one from his station. Two other selections also appeared on the list, but since both of them were full of as much potential as the others, Tom didn't question them and Tuvok didn't bother. Chakotay's sites were usually among the best options.

          "Adjusting course, Captain," Tom said, his fingers entering new coordinates.

          Technically, he was out of order. The captain hadn't ordered the changes to be made, but she wasn't going to quibble. "How long?"

          "Eight hours, sixteen minutes, forty five point seven seconds." Tuvok's precision carried its own subtext.

          Eight hours till blessed relief. "Notify Engineering and the crew. We might as well stand down from any further work until then."

          "There goes the party," Tom said under his breath.

          "Oh, no, Tom," the captain said gaily. "We'll just have it on the glacier."

          The crew turned to look at her, anxiety and incredulity on all faces. "A glacier, ma'am?" Harry asked nervously.

          She waved off their concerns. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

          She knew that they couldn't land a ship this big on an unstable glacier, however much she wanted to. But the Delta Flyer…and here was one of the shuttle pilots, reviewing some…reviewing some…what were they saying?

          Ayala and Paris looked like they were discussing landing options and consulting on other piloting issues. But in their quiet voices, she could hear Tom tease Ayala about managing to get to the bridge on time for the daily Esorian contact. "Like them purple eyes, do you, Mike?"

          More beads of sweat were forming on the lieutenant's brow. "Oh, baby," Mike replied, shifting to the side. "Only once in a lifetime do you see something as gorgeous as that, Paris. It's like an electric shock."

          She glanced over to Chakotay, who was carefully studying his control panel, his hand covering his smile. Evidently Tom wasn't the only one who knew about Mr. Ayala's interest. Tom smiled at his friend. "I have to agree with you, man, but if you tell B'Elanna, I will lie about it to your face."

          "If you had a face after B'Elanna was done rearranging it for you, Mike. B'Elanna doesn't always separate the message from the messenger." Chakotay added, chuckling as he came to stand in front of the pilot's station. "Com'on, Mike, you've never been one for love at first sight."

          The pilot looked over his shoulder to see if the captain or the tactical officer were paying any attention. This sort of chitchat was rarely tolerated by either of them. "Not till now."

          Chakotay's eyes looked over at his captain, meeting hers with levels of depth that she saw were smooth and settled. The sparking tension that had used to be there was gone.

          "I'm taking a break," she announced to no one in particular. "Commander, do you want the bridge?"

          Chakotay declined. "I have several things to do in my office before we land. Tom will need to see to the party also."

          "Very good. Tuvok, you have the conn." She stepped down into her ready room, turning at the last instant. "Mr. Ayala, is another shuttle leaving soon?"

          "Yes, Captain. Ten minutes. Service is checking the oil and gassing her up." Mike smiled at Tom, who snickered appreciatively.

          "I'll be there in five."

          Blessed relief. Five minutes to clear her desk. Recycle the iced coffee glasses. She stood at the windows and watched the stars for a moment.

          The cold cloth on the back of her neck was startling. The rivulets of icy chill down her shoulders and her back gave her momentary shivers as she jumped backwards against her first officer. "Let the service staff handle the ready room, Kathryn," he chided her even as his hands steadied her against him.

          She dipped her head forward, stretching out to let square millimeter of skin come in contact with the cooling cloth. "Thank you."

          "I thought maybe you could use it before you had to get into a turbo lift. We don't want you swearing in there."

          She found she could chuckle about that, with the chilly cloth on her neck. "Let's make these part of the uniform of the day, shall we?"

          "It has been on most of the saucer section. We're cooler up here on the bridge."

          "What's it up to?"

          "Sickbay's been managing to keep it down to under forty degrees. Not comfortable, but not bad, really. Most of the interior quarters are up past fifty. We've been using some of the empty rooms on deck fourteen for some people, and most are sleeping in the lounges or in the mess hall."

          "Lord, Chakotay, we've got to get to that …"

          "Don't make me the winner, Kathryn." He put up one finger. "You've been down in Engineering and around B'Elanna too much."

          She looked at his hand, and twisted around to look up at his face. "I had no intention of swearing, Commander."

          "Of course not, Captain." He used the cold cloth to swipe up the last of the drips heading down her shoulders and tossed it back into the replicator. "Mike's waiting for you. Most of the people on this trip are trying to get some sleep. Why don't you do the same?"

          She shrugged off his good advice with a smile. "I'm going to review the last three diagnostics."

          "Then I'm sure you'll get a good sleep." His good-natured rejoinder was the distraction from his deft removal of her PADD from her hand. "Let's see…diagnostics of gel packs one to forty. Secondary diagnostics of diagnostic system. Reboot stats of diagnostics."

          He handed the PADD back to her and offered his arm. "I'll walk you to your shuttle. I'm supposed to meet with B'Elanna about rescheduling the work load after we land on this planet."

          The shuttle stunk. Recycling the air was useless. The bodies in it stunk. The Doctor stood by, medical tricorder in one hand, and a row of dispensers on the tray beside him. She looked at him warily as he stopped beside an exhausted Baytart. "You're grossly overheated and suffering from heat exhaustion."

          Three injections, and Baytart slowly closed his eyes, leaning back on the seat. The Doctor rescanned him, and turned to her. "Make sure he lies down during this trip. He's going to have massive muscular aches if we don't get him stretched out. If he asks for anything, give him water."

          "Yes, sir," she responded dryly.

          "We're asking all seatmates to check on their partners at some point during the trip. Baytart was told that you are not allowed to read for more than thirty minutes and that nothing relating to coffee is allowed near you."

          He was impervious to her glare as he changed the dispenser's dosage and pressed it against her neck. "This is a nasal inhibitor and analgesic. We've found that everyone gets a better rest if they can't smell anyone else, and the coolness of the shuttle tends to cause some muscular aches. Get some sleep, Captain."

          She repeated her assent far more sarcastically this time as he turned to Vorik in the seat behind her. "Mr. Vorik. I see you've been avoiding your salt supplements again…"

          The launch was so smooth that she could barely sense their motion before they were away. She watched the cold stars shoot past as they tracked with Voyager, who continued to travel at warp four so to not outrun the shuttles beside her. The temperature reduction was almost immediate, however, and based on the shiver of Baytart, not entirely appreciated.

          The blanket was draped over his long legs after she stretched him out across their seat. Heading for the empty navigator's seat, she took a moment to appreciate the sleek lines of her ship. Those seven phaser burns on the port nacelle needed to be repaired, but at this moment, that ship was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Mike watched her as she settled in and put out her hand.

          The cup of iced coffee was sweetened, but revitalizing. "Thank you."

          "You owe me, Captain," he smiled in return. "I heard the Doctor. I think he's got some link to the replicator - no one but the pilots is getting anything but water or some nasty saline drink."

          She shuddered. "I owe you indeed."

          As she sipped her coffee, the pilot put the shuttle on the autopilot, and turned in his seat to face her. "May I ask you a question?"

          "On or off the record?" She waved her contraband cup, willing to grant him the permission to speak freely.

          "Off. Personal, even."

          Her face showed her indecision, but she agreed.

          "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

          I guess I should have expected that question, she thought as she settled into her chair. "Speaking from experience, yes, I do. I take it you haven't."

          "Not till now." He was smiling slightly, but she didn't think that he was thinking about his captain. "Love, lust…it's all very complicated, isn't it?"

          "I used to think so."

          "What changed your mind?"

          "Among other things, meeting Tuvok's wife." He didn't expect her answer that time.

          "Tuvok's wife?"

          "T'Pel. I take it she never visited the Liberty while Tuvok was aboard."

          It was to his credit that he showed no anger at the thought of Tuvok's spying so many years ago. "No, I never met her."

          "Tuvok hadn't met his wife before they married. It was a traditional, arranged Vulcan marriage. But there was no question that Tuvok immediately fell in love with his wife. When you're with the two of them, it's like electricity sometimes. You feel the flow it of it between them."

          "Love? An emotion?"

          "Love isn't just an emotion. Love is far more, don't you think? It … transcends emotion. It transcends space."

          "Not very scientific."

          "Not everything is. Tuvok's love for his wife is neither scientific or emotional."

          "Logical?"

          "Probably not that, either," she laughed with him. "But it's very real."

          "Have you ever fallen in love at first sight?"

          She looked out the window, remembering. "Yes."

          "What was it like?"

          "It was like lightning." She still didn't face him, her eyes ranging over the stars as they streaked past. "It took me years to accept it, and then years to let it go."

          "Why did you let it go? Surely it's something too valuable to just let it go."

          Her sigh was his only answer when the comm link summoned his attention. "Sacajewea here."

          "Mike, is the captain awake? Madame Deedum is asking to speak with her." Harry's tired voice gave Kathryn a moment of chagrin. On the cool shuttle, she had forgotten how incredibly uncomfortable it was back on Voyager.

          "Send it through, Ensign," she said, and watched the small monitor with the pilot.

          "Captain, I've been asked to give you some information about the planet you are intending to visit."

          "Yes, Madame Deedum?"

          "There is a unusual characteristic to many of the animals on the planet. They are natural producers of strong electrical currents. It is believed that this problem has prevented the development of a major sentient species. You would be well advised to avoid them."

          Kathryn tilted her head, trying to figure out just what Deedum was really trying to say. "Thank you. We'll give that information to our security staff."

          Deedum nodded briskly. "Good day, Captain."

          "Good day, Madame Deedum."

          Kathryn looked at the PADD in her hand with a sigh. Caffeine or not, she needed the rest before she could tackle this data.

          "Take a nap, Captain. I promise not to tell anyone."

          She smiled over at her pilot, and settled back into the chair. "And I can honestly tell the Doctor that I didn't let you read for more than a half hour."

          "I'd hit you up for insubordination, if it didn't take so much effort, Ayala."

          The dimming lights in the cabin was her only answer.

          It didn't seem like a long nap. She felt like the air around her was stale, stuffy… "Ayala?"

          "Captain?" He was huddled over the ops station, pressing a key repeatedly. "Something's gone wrong with the life-support. Voyager is tractoring us in."

          She consciously slowed her breathing down, looking at the helm control beside her. "What's happened?"

          "I don't know, Captain, but it's manifesting the same way that Voyager developed her problems ten days ago." He looked at her with troubled eyes. "Is it contagious?"

          She felt like swearing.

          Her staff met the incoming shuttle, worried eyes watching the landing, several crewmen waiting with handheld diagnostics and tools. B'Elanna herself was leaning against the bulkhead to glare at the offending ship. Nothing was wrong. Nothing. But nothing was making her ship inhabitable. In the last hour, the inner core temperature had read the critical level, and the gel packs were no longer gelled. Cooling them slowly was the only way to save them. And without the gel packs, Voyager was scrap.

          Both of the other shuttles that had been touring along beside Voyager were waiting to dock. Once they were inside, the ship was going to warp nine point nine. It would shave six hours off their trip. With any luck, Tom's evening party would start sometime after noon, ship's time.

          Whatever energy she had acquired on the shuttle trip was drained from her by the heat in the shuttle bay as she stepped down onto the deck. "Report?"

          "Shortly after you left, we had several alarms go off. The gel packs were overheating. We've tried to override the commands, reboot the system, but nothing's working. Nothing's wrong. Nothing's working." B'Elanna's eyes would not rise from the floor to meet her captain's.

          "And now this shuttle is malfunctioning too."

          The captain looked down at the PADD in her hand. "Reboot?"

          The bridge was approaching that temperature when the alarms would start to go off when she reentered it, B'Elanna and Tuvok with her. "Harry, check the logs…when did this problem first start?"

          Harry didn't have to look. "Ten days ago."

          "Right after our first contact with the Esor Domain." Kathryn confirmed. "Chakotay, you and someone check our life support access codes. Find out if they've been tampered with. B'Elanna, who's on LS maintenance?"

          "Hargrove."

          "Tell him to start reading that code line by line. We've got a virus."

          Tom's voice interrupted the assignments. "Captain, I'm picking up a signal - I think it's a distress call."

          Tuvok scanned his board. "Yes. We're receiving seven different distress calls."

          Kathryn shook her head. "Ignore them. Someone's been monkeying around with my ship's computer. And I want it fixed."

          She ordered up a blank screen across the front of the bridge. "Computer, display a graph of the interior temperature of the four designated monitoring locations on Voyager for the last fifteen days. Use the x axis to display time."

          The display was immediate, showing the time index by days. Four lines tracked evenly for the first third of the graph, and the lines slowly split, with Sickbay remaining the lowest, while the bridge, the crewmen's quarters on deck 3, and the science labs on deck 12 were rising quickly. "Search comm history and find the contact points from the Esor Domain. Plot them on the graph."

          Bars rose from the bottom of the graph. The correlation was obvious. "Have someone check the comm logs and see if we're getting any additional messages behind this one."

          Celes stood at the ops station down the steps from Harry, pressed a series of buttons, and grinned widely. "Got it. It's a sub textual message boarded on. It's ranging in a higher frequency. It's all binary…"

          Harry came to stand beside her, studying her results. "Tal, this is great - where did you learn to do that?"

          Kathryn looked over at her junior officers, trying to shut down the chatter.

          "Chakotay showed me. The Maquis used it." She looked over at her commanding officers and blushed. "Sorry, Captain."

          "Not at all," the captain replied dryly, but Chakotay came to join the officers at the ops station. "Good work. Can you decode it?"

          She looked at the text doubtfully. There were only seventeen symbols. "There's not much to go on."

          Tuvok's eyebrows lowered as he studied the small virus code. "There's too little for the computer to decode it, Captain."

          Chakotay looked at his young officers. "Cross reference with the other messages. This instruction is the base set. There must be some updates or upgrades or further instructions in the subsequent messages. Start there and work forward. You'll do it."

          Celes copied the virus to her PADD. "Permission to leave the bridge, Commander? Er… Captain?" Her protocol was a bit weak, but at least she caught her own error.

          "Dismissed, Celes." The captain returned to her seat, staring at the graph in front of her. She pointed to the second contact date with the Esor. "See that? No jump, at least not a very big one."

          Chakotay stood in front of the screen, his hands on his hips. "How long till we reach the planet, Paris?"

          "Three hours, twelve minutes."

          Kathryn punched her keypad, and listened to the distress signals. Her eyes met Chakotay's, and she shut down the link.

          "Approaching the planet, ready for blue alert." Tom's report was crisp. He loved landing Voyager. She responded so quickly to his commands, thrusters giving him the real sense of movement that space travel rarely conveyed. Piloting anything was Tom's idea of fun, but piloting a big ship in an atmosphere, that was real fun.

          Captain Janeway ordered the blue alert absently, barely looking up from her PADD. She hated taking her ship down on a planet. Space ships were built for space, not for air. And as sealed as a ship would have to be, landing a ship the size of Voyager inevitably led to several malfunctions that would crop up during the lift off. But at this moment, she had two other major concerns. The virus decoding was still incomplete. The access point for the virus had been identified and sealed with a host of codes and loops that would alarm at the next attempt to send on that frequency. Hargrove had created a little subroutine that would feed back the sub textual message to the sender - his personal vengeance, he reported to the captain. She grinned with feral approval at his tactic.

          The second problem was trying to discern if Madame Deedum was aware of the viral insert in her messages to Voyager. There was no signature wavelength that combined the two messages - it was entirely possible that she knew nothing about it.

          Or she knew everything about it. The singular contact while Janeway was on the Sacajewea - it was odd. Why would the so-called head of Esor Domain Security bother to tell her about an animal threat on a planet - one that in Kathryn's experience, electrical animals were rare and equally rarely fatal to a humanoid, unless someone grabbed it with both hands to complete the circuit. Earth had one water-based species. Vulcan had three sand-based species. The electric eel was dangerous, and might bring on a heart attack, but the shock itself was not very strong. The Vulcan sand eels, small and wretched little six centimeter worms, were best known for their ability to make the unwary jump around and then immediately drag that foot for as much as an hour before the nerves were functioning properly again.

          She reviewed the text of their conversation once again as Tom began his descent. The site he had chosen was in the part of the planet that Seven had arbitrarily referred to as the northern continent. Its latitude was far enough north to guarantee a brisk daytime temperature and freezing nights. A large plain to the south would provide a safe landing zone and plenty of area for their ultimate return to space. A large freshwater lake with a large river flowing south was the designated landing location, pending some further geological studies. B'Elanna had threatened Tom with her bat'leth if he landed her ship in a marsh. Kathryn withheld her own comments after that.

          One of her hands left the PADD and grasped the armrest of her seat as their descent began to vibrate the ship, but the shaking wasn't the real cause of her grasp. No one, she hoped, knew how much she hated and feared these trips. She might as well be in her ready room. It was protocol that tied her to her seat, she tried to tell herself. The Captain would be on the bridge whenever a ship would have to land.

          A large dark hand rested gently on her wrist, squeezing gently, releasing before another eye might detect the motion.

          She looked up at him, grateful for the small encouragement. He wasn't even looking at her, he was focused on the telemetry that Tom and Tuvok were feeding him.

          Good. She grabbed that distraction for a moment. She could trust these men and women. They didn't need her interruptions while they demonstrated a textbook landing. Even this man beside her, who could take a moment and remind her that she didn't need to be afraid, seemed barely aware of her as he commented about the relative marshiness of one potential landing site over another.

          It was good that they weren't in love anymore. He was her best friend, just as she was his. In the annals of Starfleet history, she rather thought that they would be compared with Spock and Kirk. Friends to the death, and even beyond. The emotion had clouded everything. Its inevitable subsuming into their friendship was quiet and complete.

          "Captain." Tuvok's voice drew her attention. "We're being fired on!"

          The first shots had missed the ship entirely, but two hits on the port nacelle were minor but jarring.

          "No damage," Kim reported.

          Tom wasn't waiting for any orders. He pulled the ship up and was on the other side of the planet in under a minute.

          "We're being followed, Captain," Tuvok's voice was grim. In it she heard all his opinions about the woman who had assented to their use of this planet.

          Tom's piloting was good, but they needed someplace to hide, and get the ship's problems dealt with before facing any attackers. She scanned the list of potential sites, cursing herself under her breath as she realized that she had not paid an iota of attention to the list.

          Tom pulled the ship straight up, looped over and the ship that attacked them was now in the lead. Before it had any chance to respond, Kathryn ordered its destruction at the top of her voice. Tuvok's phaser broke the ship into millions of pieces that would rain down over the world below them.

          She looked at her first officer. "Any more?"

          "There are three more signatures, Captain."

          "Take us down fast, Tom."

          He pressed three keys. "Here we go. Hang on."

          Good advice. His dive was as dramatic as his steep climb moments before, and without any warning, Voyager was a bare fifty meters above the surface of the small southern continent. He found the landmark he was looking for, and the ship swiped lower, then settled primly at the foot of a huge cliff. Its giant overhanging rock formation created a recess cave at its base, completely blocking Voyager from any aerial scans. Thrusters managed to negotiate the ship into the shadows.

          "Are we down, Lieutenant Paris?"

          "We're down. And not a marsh in sight."

          That might be good news, if she hadn't seen the coordinates for this particular site. Close to the planetary equator, they were no doubt in the midst of a summer-like atmosphere that wouldn't speed up the process of cooling down her ship.

          "Thank you, Mr. Paris. All hands, secure your stations and evacuate immediately. Take whatever cover you can. Life Sciences teams one and two, begin your tasks now." Chakotay's firm voice gave the orders to the crew as she stood and surveyed her senior staff.

          "Let's plan a short meeting in an hour," the captain ordered. "Please notify the doctor and Neelix. Lieutenant Torres, I'll want to know how long it will take us to get the gel packs functional. Lieutenant Paris, get some site readings. I'm sure this is going to be far more tropical than any of us really wants right now. I want to be sure that this cave is stable, and bring me another location we can move to if we need to."

          The chief engineer shook her head. "We're not moving, Captain. That flying might have saved our-" she stopped a moment before deciding that the vernacular might not be the best choice if the captain knew about Tom's latest pool. "Ship," she continued, "but we generated a great deal of heat. I've got gel pack warnings from all decks. We're here for the duration."

          "Yes, but who else is here?"

          Tuvok nodded at her quick glance. "I'll have some sensors taken out beyond the range of this cliff. We can use them for alarms as well."

          "Good. Harry, get the vents open. Then get out of here."

          It was five minutes before the general staff meeting was to start, but three figures stood around the captain as she faced the helmsman. "He has what?"

          "Tarkellian influenza." The medic shrugged his shoulders, eyeing her carefully. "I'm not sure how much we'll be able to count on him until it passes."

          Janeway rubbed her forehead, and looked at her first officer. "Thank you, Tom."

          The Doctor continued to look annoyed. "He didn't come to see me."

          "You're dealing with several severe medical cases, Doctor. Tuvok was right to seek out Tom for some…treatment." Janeway stumbled over the word, causing her first officer to glance sharply at her.

          "No, no, I'm fine. Are both of you ready to report?"

          The Doctor relaxed his irritated pose. "Yes, Captain."

          "Good. Find a suitable site for us to meet, and get us something to sit on. Tom, can you get us something to eat and drink?"

          The two assented quickly, leaving Kathryn to face Chakotay. "Tarkellian flu."

          He looked at her questioningly. "It's generally not fatal."

          "It might be now. It's not Tarkellian flu, Chakotay. It's Tuvok's Pon Farr."

          He was quick to catch on to her train of thought. They had nearly lost three valuable crewmembers with Vorik's Pon Farr. What might happen with Tuvok's? "Should I talk to Vorik about a mind-meld?"

          "After the meeting. I don't think that a mind-meld is going to work. Vorik is about sixty years younger than Tuvok. He won't have the experience or the strength to deal with it." She stared into his face. "I think I have a plan, but I'll need you to help me."

          "Help you?"

          B'Elanna and the Doctor stood nearby, a table and chairs materializing beside them. Under the leafy canopy, the captain thought it was probably one of the prettiest places she had ever conducted a staff meeting. "Tell Ayala to join us in Tuvok's place. Tuvok is on medical leave, effective now. If he wishes to join us, that's fine. He'll need the distraction." Captain Janeway's voice was soft. "This meeting won't take long. I want the crew to rest as much as possible. Have Neelix and Tom restrict the beverages to non-alcoholic so that once we're all feeling better, we can get some shelters up for the night. Tents are adequate, I think."

          "Already in process. Life Sciences have taken over the job of setting up a tent city. Team one is clearing the area of any animal life and is setting up a kitchen area. Team two is supposed to be working with Neelix on getting the tents up. Engineering is off duty until tomorrow. Astrometrics is to help Neelix with food preparation. They volunteered."

          It was good to laugh at such an insignificant sentence that implied so much. "Very good. Any other assignments I should know about?"

          "Not really. Tuvok has been working on this sort of operation for years. Generally it's been under emergency conditions."

          "Not that this exactly qualifies," she said thoughtfully, "but close enough. At least, no one's dying."

          They both thought of Tuvok.

          Large display PADDs rested on the table in front of each chair. B'Elanna's schedule to re-gel the bioneural packs was posted with all its depressing data.

          "Four weeks?" the captain didn't know if she should be outraged or resigned.

          "Four weeks." The engineer knew her news was appalling. "It might be less. Our diagnostics are telling us that only thirteen percent of the gel packs are currently usable. That might mean that one liquid pack is breaking the diagnostic check and the rest beyond it in the circuit are fine." Her face belied her words. She was offering a false comfort - she was certain that the percentage was accurate, but she had learned to buffer the bad news with a bit of good. "The packs will take approximately three days to cool if we do it here on the planet. If we can use the shuttles to take them to a more …less tropical location, that process might be speeded up, but it opens us up to those attackers."

          "How will you cool them?"

          "I can use the shuttles that aren't infected. We can build some shelves, possibly cool one hundred at a time. Then we have to use some of the gel from a working pack to inoculate the inert packs, and then inject the activating agent. All in all, each pack will take about a week to process before it's returned to Voyager. We could cut that down if we can get the Sacajewea's life support system working again. I have Vorik and Carey working on that."

          "Get Herron to work with you. He'll handle the code resequencing." Chakotay placed his empty glass back on the table.

          "Aye, sir."

          "Tactical?"

          Ayala spoke up, a new voice that caught everyone's attention as he began the tactical report. "Sensors and scanners are being brought over from the storage units on the ship using the transporters on the two shuttles. We'll be set up in few hours. We've managed to scare out most of the big animal life. If there's something up too high in the canopy, well, we'll find out soon enough, won't we? We've issued phasers to everyone for self-protection, but we don't anticipate their use. In particular, we were warned about animals on this planet that are able to generate an electric shock. At this time, nothing we've spotted is any cause for alarm, but we haven't scanned the lake or river. There's something blocking our sensors in the sand - there's a high lead content combined with some other metals. It's likely that there are animals living in the sand or in the water that will come ashore at dusk."

          "What are you doing about it?" B'Elanna asked curiously.

          "We'll assign a team to check out the banks every hour. If someone doesn't return…" His grin complemented his joke. "Then we'll know not to go back there."

          They all laughed with him. The captain looked at her tired staff. "I know I'm asking a great deal of all of you while we're still exhausted from the past ten days. Take it easy while you're doing your tasks. Don't stretch too much. Four weeks - we'll think of this as a working vacation. Department heads, rotate the crews so each person gets at least seven consecutive days off the schedule. This includes yourself. Don't try to work in any training-" she looked at Seven in particular. "Just rest."

          Looking around the table, she dismissed them.

          Fourteen Bolians were waiting for her at the edge of the clearing. Chell, their designated spokesman, was quick to commend the Doctor's actions in placing them in stasis, but now, they wanted to get to work. None had been assigned to any work crew. Bolians, particularly adept at night vision, suggested that they might stand the night watches for the duration.

          Chakotay joined her at the end of Chell's speech. "You're on," he said over the captain's shoulder. "We anticipate dusk in nine to ten hours. Determine a perimeter and establish stations. Get any scanning equipment you need from Mulcahy - he's running the supply transporter from the Isabella. We'll want to be watching for those attackers. Our presence may be small enough, with Voyager under that cliff, that we won't be spotted quickly."

          "Aye, sir." The blue crewmembers smiled at their exec and smartly made their way back to the parked shuttle.

          "Sorry about that. Chell should have come to me."

          "Not at all. It was," she tilted her head as she considered her words. "It was good for me. My crew took the opportunity to figure out what was needed and how to fill that need. I appreciated that."

          "Vorik is waiting. I've asked Tom to join us. He's scouting out a private location for this meeting."

          Her serene look was immediately lost as she remembered the reason for this conference. "Get the Doctor and B'Elanna. My plan will require them too."

          Tom Paris waved over the captain and exec. "We've got a lovely spot for a private meeting all picked out. There's a nice river not too far from here with a large sand beach. We've gotten the food service tent there. Everyone else is occupied."

          The breeze picked up as they moved away from the trees and onto the beach. "Will we need to be concerned about sunburn?"

          "I'll check with the Doctor," he replied, looking around at the grey sand. "It's volcanic, but not as gritty I would have thought."

          She watched her exec bend down and rub sand between his fingers. "Is it good enough to sunbathe?"

          "Depends on what you wear," he joked. "I think we'll do fine here." He scanned down the riverbank. "Lots of distance - we could have a problem if we spread out too much."

          "Let's get Tuvok to set the perimeter based on security's ability to monitor it."

          Vorik stepped out onto the sand, taking an uncharacteristically Vulcan deep breath. "Give me a minute with Vorik, Chakotay. I'd like to speak to him privately."

          The XO nodded and turned to the food tent. Tables and chairs were haphazardly shoved under cover. He took the moment to set up a small table and chairs while she walked over to meet her engineer.

          "Yosh itla eon vonon dash isth yevel bron," she said in human-accented Vulcan. I know that I ask thee to speak of things that are private.

          He looked at her, attentive, not yet understanding what she was about to say. "Captain?"

          "Vrau Pon Farr ypu Tuvok." It is Tuvok's Pan Farr.

          He nodded carefully. "Vulcanu prescu du Tuvok bar Vors'ka sha dashash." You honor Tuvok and myself by speaking in Vulcan.

          Their conversation was seen by others as they wandered down to the tent, but until the topic was brought up, no one thought anything about the captain's seemingly casual conversation with Vorik.

          Vulcans, Tom thought. Can't tell a thing by them.

          The Doctor looked at Tom with annoyance. "You can't tell the difference between Tarkellian flu and Pon Farr?" He turned and looked at the captain. "Mr. Tuvok and I have been working with several medications to facilitate his meditations. Are you sure that they're not working?"

          "Doctor," the captain soothed. "It's difficult enough for Tuvok to admit his…much less let the crew know about it. Tuvok and I have served together for several years now. I've been expecting this for at least six months. Your help has postponed this event for several months, but it is no longer an effective course of treatment."

          She scanned their faces, hers equally serious. "In Starfleet records, only fourteen Pon Farrs have been an issue while a male Vulcan was on a deep space mission. None of them were successfully resolved except with extreme measures. Vorik's was the most successful because no one died."

          Painful silence filled the air around them before she continued. "I've been aware that this problem would occur soon. As a precautionary measure, I've done some research on a new option that was suggested in jest during our last …"

          An apologetic look at Vorik. "I had hoped to do this in the holodeck, but it's unlikely that we will have those relays up and running before the plak tow…asserts itself."

          Chakotay looked at the Doctor. "Is there any treatment at all that can stop this?"

          "None at all. In fact, the only remaining death penalty on Vulcan is doing research to stop Pon Farr."

          Vorik spoke slowly. "To eliminate the Pon Farr would be to precipitate the end of the Vulcan race. It is equated with genocide."

          B'Elanna alone knew Vorik enough to hear the pain in his voice. "I will plan to attend the ceremony as Tuvok's friend, Captain. It would be better for me not to know any more details than what you have already presented, in case I am forced to meld with Tuvok." He walked away stiffly.

          "That's one offended Vulcan," Tom offered, trying to lighten the mood.

          "Don't." B'Elanna said. "He's badly shaken. That we're not all dead is a sign of his self-control right now."

          Kathryn appreciated B'Elanna's sensitivity. "Vorik is attending because he believes that he will be receiving Tuvok's katra. However, we must try to do something to prevent Tuvok's death. This is my plan."

          Everyone else was stunned by it. "You want to what?"

          Logistical details and assignments were made as the arguments wound down. Dismissed to their work, Kathryn and Chakotay alone remained, and she was sure that he would tell her again the foolishness and risk she was assuming.

          "Vorik doesn't think it will work?" Chakotay asked with a frown.

          "He didn't say so to me," the captain said sadly. "But yes, I think he expects it to fail."

          Dusk was pleasantly cooler. The sunset was like a lamp shut off, without a lingering glimmer to finish the day. The tent city was up and approved. Underneath the canopy of trees, the effect recalled camping trips from everyone. The only lack was a campfire, but no one wanted to add more heat after the last few days.

          Three moons rose over the small lake, casting shadows and providing the ambiance for a late night party hosted by the Astrometrics team.

          "Won't Seven mind?" asked B'Elanna.

          "Seven has been assigned to the first week's leave. She is permitted to rest, relax, regenerate, but not complain." Chakotay loved this time of night, and the chief engineer watched his eyes skim over the festivities.

          "Is that one of the perks of being first officer?"

          "Something like that. By the way, I need to know when you will be scheduling your time off. Tom's asked for the same time, but since his assignments are more flexible than yours, I'll work it out for you."

          B'Elanna drank deeply of her cup before setting it down on the table behind her. He had noticed earlier that her beverage of choice hadn't been synthale. "I'll find Tom and we'll let you know, Chakotay."

          "Be?"

          She turned and gave him a burning look. "Don't even say it, Chakotay. Don't even say it."

          "Tent walls are mighty thin."

          She looked surprised at his comment, as if her mind was focused on something else entirely. "She's going to put that idiotic plan in motion tomorrow, isn't she?"

          "Yes. With any luck, it will all be over before most of the crew is up."

          "Luck is what we're going to need." She tossed her head back. A familiar gesture, one that he knew too well - it was her attempt to keep tears from falling down her face. "Do you think it's going to work?"

          "Can you make it work?"

          She considered in his face in the moonlight. "I don't know."

          The three moons cast funny shadows, distorted by each other's gleam. Kathryn wondered just how often the planet saw all three as full disks, but she wasn't about to find Seven and ask. No, better to sit here in the cool breeze and rub shoulders with Ayala.

          He had sought her out after dinner, asking for some time after the party began to talk with her again. She knew it would cause talk. She knew it would cause betting. But tonight, sitting alone in the moonlight was the last thing she wanted to do. All she would do was fret about the morning's task.

          Everything that could be done was done. B'Elanna had programmed the Doctor's holomatrix. Tom, with a little help from Chakotay, had prepared the message from T'Pel that would be sent in the first light of dawn. Her summons would give him the location and send him directly into their trap.

          Not a trap. A rescue. She chided herself. Don't think of it as a trap. Think of it as the only way to bring Tuvok home.

          She sat on the sandy beach, talking with Mike about silly, useless things. Favorite Earth restaurants. Which captain was most likely to be remembered one hundred years from now. Who had visited more deep space stations. Who would win - the Kazon or the Cardassians.

          The streaking light across the sky caught their eyes. "Janeway to Tuvok."

          "Tuvok here, Captain."

          He had asked for this shift for duty. Tom had shrugged off her questioning look and she didn't want to make an issue of it. "What was that?"

          "It appears to have been a meteor, Captain. The planet is passing through a small comet debris field. There will be many visible meteors for several days."

          "Will this present us with a problem for our sensors?"

          "Unless they land on one, no."

          "Thank you, Mr. Tuvok. Janeway out."

          The captain and crewman laughed at the tactical officer's dry wit. When he finally brought their conversation back to the nature of love, she really didn't mind. "First love? Oh, Lord, I was so young and innocent."

          He encouraged her with his eyes. "Was that the time you fell in love at first sight?"

          "No, I'd know him all my life. We'd been in school together for years." She kicked some sand with her shoe. "What about you? First love?"

          "First grade teacher. She had violet eyes and black, black hair down to her knees…"

          "Oh, my, you had it bad."

          "Violet eyes. I tell you, those are my downfall, Kathryn. Not bright blue like yours, but that subtle, deep color."

          She tried to decide if pointing out that he used her name was worth the effort, but under the stars, beside a undulating river, she thought that tonight, he could do it. It would be nice to hear her name without some hint of exasperation or fear behind it. A friend.

          "And black, black hair."

          "Oh, baby," he moaned. "I tell you, that Deedum woman is one gorgeous woman. That hair, those eyes. I look at her and it's like a power relay sparking between us. You don't really think she's behind all the problems we've been having, do you?"

          The captain stopped sifting sand through her fingers. "I don't know."

          "It figures. Every time I find a woman who looks that good, she ends up after my butt. And not the way I want her to, you know what I mean?"

          Her laugh was joined by her first officer. "Time for bed, Mike. You can sleep it off in the morning." Chakotay pulled the pilot up, steadying him slightly in the sand.

          "Good night, Captain." Ayala made a courtly bow and headed up to the tents.

          "He's drunk?"

          Chakotay took his place in the sand. "Very."

          "I wouldn't have guessed. He wasn't at all…" Kathryn watched him stroll through the moonlight, he seemed steady enough.

          "Never is. Mike is one of the nicest drunks I've ever met. He'll do exactly what you tell him to do. Smile the whole time. Never remember a bit of it tomorrow, and laugh right along with you when you tell him what stupid things he did."

          "He called me Kathryn."

          He looked at her with a thoughtful stare. "Did he."

          Not a question, not something she felt she had to answer.

          "We've found several of those electrically charged animals. They glow in the canopy over our tents. Tricorder readings are rather alarming - we're talking about possible shocks of over one thousand volts."

          "How big are they?"

          "Not even a half a meter long. Four arms, two legs, prehensile tail. Chowboth in Life Sciences wants to capture one, but at the moment, she's the only one with any interest in an up-close interaction with them. She says they're vegetarian, so we don't have to worry about them attacking us for food. She thinks that they live in the canopy and won't come down. She's spotted several nests outside our perimeter."

          "Anything else?"

          "She's assured me that if you don't grab the animal with both hands, you'll survive the experience. If the animal touches you in two places, you'll complete the circuit and get one hell of a jolt."

          "I'll keep that in mind." She yawned behind her hand.

          "You'd better to get to bed yourself, Captain. Show time in about eight hours." He stood smoothly and held out his hand. "I'll help you find your tent."

          "Is it right next to yours?"

          "Nope. You're next to the Delany's. Giggles all night."

          She took his arm as they crossed the sand. "And just how do you know that?"

          There was one major drawback to tents, Kathryn Janeway thought as she struggled with the layers of unfamiliar Vulcan robes. The proximity of the other tents stopped her from adding a few choice words about these unwieldy garments - not that anyone was awake to hear them. The giggling hadn't lasted much past Kathryn shutting off her low light. Now she could hear the gentle snores from one tent, and some sleepy muttering from another nearby.

          Coffee. Black. Now.

          She pulled the translucent veil under her arm, trying to smooth out the static electricity that ruined the drape of the robe, its fabric clinging to her hands and legs. The food tent was on her way to the designated site. Neelix might have a pot already started. If not, she was sure one of the portable replicators would provide her with ample sustenance.

          Chakotay joined her silently, dressed in his own costume. As the drev'no, the official supervising the ceremony, he was also dressed in Vulcan attire, but the slick black fabric was far less binding than her layers of layers.

          Neelix's kitchen was still quiet. The senior staff had announced that this was a rest day - food service would not be available before two hours after dawn. The cook needed his break too.

          He held out the cup, the steam rising.

          "You're a good friend, Chakotay."

          "If I was a good friend, I'd talk you out of this."

          She stroked the silky fabric that covered her to her toes. "You can't. We have to deal with this now. Is the Doctor looking adequately deathly?"

          "B'Elanna tells me that she's done the best she could. Several of the databases are not functioning right now, others are inaccessible. Since we don't really know what the Vulcan Goddess of Death and Love looks like-"

          "Two faced? Male on one side, female on the other." She tried to remember all she had researched when she realized that Tuvok's Pon Farr was sure to be before they returned to the Alpha Quadrant.

          "That's what we've got. B'Elanna also programmed several Klingon fighting subroutines. Vorik was supposed to send the message to Tuvok just before his shift ends. Tom will be there to take over as officer of the day. You will be the stand-in for T'Pel, you stand upwind from him. Make sure of that."

          She nodded as she sipped. "Anything else?"

          "Nothing." He looked at her with frustration. "Do you really think this is going to work, Kathryn?"

          "It has to, Chakotay."

          The sun's earliest rays were sparkling on the lake. A beautiful morning, wisps of mist coating the trees, it was completely incongruous with the cuffs that bound her hands. Vorik's hands were steady as he wrapped them in place, and then loosened them. "Try to keep your hands together, Captain. It will look like the bindings are tight. Once you move your hands apart, they'll fall right off."

          She looked up at him. "I'll remember, Vorik."

          He shook his head; hearing levels and offers in her words. "It is my honor. He is Vulcan. Every time a human has taken on the burden of a katra, it has ended badly."

          She continued to meet his gaze as the veil was tossed over her head, pulled down over her face. "He comes."

          Tuvok had not taken time to change from his uniform. His feet slid under and over the little sand dunes as he raced to meet his wife.

          Vorik had selected the site. It was a quiet, wide space of sand that had little slope to the riverbank. Small tracks of sand hinted at animals moving in for a morning drink. Other odd piles of sand seemed to indicate that several small animals had beached themselves. Their trails from the riverside weren't deep, but it wasn't possible to tell what kind of animal it was - the trails vanished on the bank, and there were no tracks on either side to give a clue to their body structure. The woman took her place at the northernmost end of the beach, trees surrounding the crew as they watched Tuvok catch sight of the shrouded shape, and stop, confused.

          The Doctor, now enormous, created a triangle with the running Vulcan and the draped woman. He radiated power, raw and consuming. "She is now mine, O Tuvok. Stand aside thy claim."

          Chakotay hit a large gong, its echoes ringing weirdly in the forest. Tiny bells around the frame jingled. Kathryn winced. So much for keeping the crew out of this. How many of them would be checking out the noise in a matter of minutes?

          "She is my wife, Madame T'Dang."

          Good. He's recognized the goddess of death. Chakotay didn't spare a glance at Kathryn.

          "She is dead to thee, Tuvok of Vulcan."

          "No. The bond is not broken. T'Pel!"

          The anguish in his voice tore at her heart. Too late, she thought, it's too late for me to think how cruel this is to him. I might be breaking the bond of marriage he has with T'Pel. If he believes she's dead, what will it mean to him when he gets the next Pathfinder dispatch from home with her monthly letter? What might his reaction be, if emotionally he was grieving for her and suddenly she returned from the dead?

          "T'Pel!"

          It took steel not to move, beyond raising her bound hands up slightly towards him.

          The goddess moved to stand between them, rising into full glory. "Then fight me for her, O Tuvok of Vulcan." Sneering, challenging. "Kal-i-fee."

          With the Vulcan word of challenge swallowed up by the forest behind them, Vorik brought forth a tray with several weapons on it. Tuvok selected a long thick whip, the tail weighted at the end with small balls. Cracking it over his head, his eyes never moved from the face of his enemy. In the goddess's hand, a large wooden-looking pike grew, matching the height of the hologram. Kathryn spared a look at Vorik from behind the sheer silk. His reaction was as veiled as hers.

          Tuvok began to speak words, unknown to Kathryn, unknown to the universal translator. Vorik watched him carefully, circling around to be sure to be out of the way of the -

          The whip cracked over Tuvok's head as he swirled it quickly, and suddenly, its end snapped forward, reaching for the eye of the goddess. With an abrupt dodge, the attack was useless, and now the god face turned to face the Vulcan.

          The god was entirely purple and black, the colors fading into each other in the dim dawn light. His face was horrible to behold - a Vulcan face, with the pointed eyebrows and exaggerated ears, but ravaged with anger and rage. The stick in his hand caught the whip with a quick twist, and pulled it taunt, lifting Tuvok's arms up heavily against the strain.

          "Thy ahn woon is a child's toy, O Tuvok. Is thee a child that we use such silly playthings?" The god's voice was silky soft, barely heard over the rumble of the river on the rocks. "I shall make thee a gift, little child. I will let thee fight with thy child's toys. I will fight thee as a Vulcan. I will even fight thee with them."

          Tuvok's sudden relaxing of his arm made the god's arm swing up higher as the tension relaxed. He used that moment to press a further wave into the whip, unwrapping it from the god's weapon deftly, dancing backwards over the uneven sands.

          "Very good, little Tuvok," he was commended in that soft shrouding voice. "Very good."

          Tuvok suddenly found himself on the ground, rolling sideways quickly to avoid the crushing blow coming down toward his chest. The whip served to distract the deity as he regained his footing. More words, and the comm badge under her robes was beginning to make the translations. "Thy face is fearsome, God of Death, but my burning desire shall see thee slain…"

          The fight continued - Tuvok broke the god's staff, the god pulled the whip from his hands, beginning to fashion the ahn woon into a doubled loop that would slide over the Vulcan's head.

          "Kroykah!"

          Kathryn, Tuvok and the god swung around. All of them had forgotten the presence of Chakotay, who stood beside the gong. "Thou art a god, but thou has promised to fight as a Vulcan."

          The goddess's face was turned to Chakotay. "And thy point is?"

          He indicated the lirpa, and the other weapons. "Thy weapon is destroyed. Select another."

          "I have no need of your weapons, little one." Another weapon came into her hand, and as she held it out, the shape modified into a lirpa as dangerous as the one on Vorik's tray.

          Kathryn watched Tuvok accept the new weapon. The fight was hard; Tuvok was surely getting the worst of it. A nasty bruise was forming on his forehead, and once, where the god's weapon was adeptly used against the Vulcan, a split across the front of his uniform showed a long thin cut. He was breathing heavily, but he looked at the shrouded woman he believed to be T'Pel.

          "I burn for thee."

          Four words made her bow her head. She didn't watch this part of the fight. Her own battle was to stop the emotions from filling her eyes with tears.

          Kathryn's attention returned to the fight as she heard the snap of the lirpa's shaft. She watched as Tuvok struggled to rise after a particularly brutal punch, and thought that perhaps it had been enough. The records had indicated that the fights were generally short and brutal. B'Elanna's and Vorik's was. Kathryn had hoped, oh, she hoped, that the age of the participants wasn't a factor. But perhaps the bond was. Tuvok and T'Pel had been together almost fifty years. Surely that was what drove him to pick up another weapon, this one a long, narrow spear, with deadly looking steel blades at each end.

          This newest weapon were unfamiliar to Kathryn. It was the only weapon left that Vorik provided. The Vulcan hefted it, feeling its weight, testing the balance.

          The God of Death and Love began to swirl, spinning quickly on feet that didn't seem to touch the ground. Fast, faster, an ahn woon swinging above the god's head.

          Tuvok threw the spear, and the god disappeared. The portable holo-emitter fell to the sand, the point of the spear embedded in it.

          The victorious Vulcan stood solidly in his place, his back toward the shrouded figure. "Hear me, O Madame T'Dang, goddess of Love. I have burned, and I have fought, and I have victory over thee. I claim my prize, the wife that thee gave me in my youth."

          Chakotay came to get the spear, looking worriedly at the equipment. He picked them up carefully, and hit his comm badge. "B'Elanna, get over here now."

          As Tuvok stood, breathing heavily, he turned to face the shrouded Kathryn. His eyes widened as he looked past her white figure to the woods behind her.

          Another goddess strode into the clearing. The image of the first, every detail, including the mobile emitter that still rested in Chakotay's hand. The goddess's face was a beautiful fury, and now faced the opponent who had thought he had won his prize. The disorientation on Tuvok's face was fading quickly to new fury, terrible to behold, even if Kathryn had known where this new "goddess" had come from, she knew that they had no control over this fight now. The Doctor was given simple instructions: give Tuvok a fight until the blood fever passed. This new goddess had no such instructions.

          If the fight had been brutal before, it was simply the opening to new levels of combat with a viciousness that Kathryn had never seen. Kathryn had a phaser out under her veil, her bindings were now in a pile at her feet as she tried to find a clear shot. Chakotay had circled around beside her to reduce the risk of their shots hitting each other, his own weapon set to kill.

          The cost of Tuvok's life was too high to take less than a clear shot. The Vulcan had moved in closer, placing his hands on the god's face, yelling, screaming words until the god broke the grip, grabbing Tuvok's wrists and forcing them up.

          Kathryn thought that perhaps they had underestimated her tactical officer. She had seen him in battle, even in hand-to-hand combat. But this speed, the utter violence with which the Vulcan now attacked, she never saw Tuvok fight in such determined ferocity. Sand flew under their feet in every direction as the battle swung around and around. The broken lirpa had been retrieved by the god, who was using the broken haft with agility; knocking Tuvok to the ground, face first.

          Tuvok twitched in the sand, as if he was having some sort of seizure. Chakotay took the shot at the god, who merely looked over at the human and laughed in ugly humor. He took slow steps toward the humans, whose shots had little effect, glancing off the black breastplate. Bearing the broken lirpa, now with the wickedly sharp blade swinging at them, he bore down on them with deliberation.

          Within five meters of the pair, suddenly he stopped, and the god's form began to alter, sheer in places, translucent in others. Waves of light cast over and through him, and as the god began to shimmer, Kathryn could see Tuvok standing on the other side of the clearing, staring intently at her.

          The god toppled to the ground, and now they could see clearly what Tuvok had done. Two long gray snakes were attached to the shoulder and hip of the god, creating an arcing of electricity that made ripples across the being's body. Two other snakes came up from the sands beside them, joining on, seeming to feast on the power surges. Another pair came from the water, slithering on the beach with startling speed.

          "THOU ART MINE, T'PEL!" The raw Vulcan voice screamed over the sparking noise of the animals.

          He approached her, hands outstretched so that she could see the burns on his hands. His face was bloody, his chin was swelling, and more green blood dripped from his neck and shoulder. A more horrific bridegroom could not be imagined.

          She realized, that after all this time, even with the phaser armed and ready, she had not removed the veil. Tuvok still thought she was his wife, now freed twice from the gods.

          "Kal-i-fee!" Chakotay yelled back, standing in front of her.

          Surely he couldn't take much more, Kathryn told herself desperately. Not much more. Chakotay had been boxing for years. He was fresh, if not warmed up for a sparring match. Not much, Chakotay could take him down; not much, and it would be done.

          Tuvok's first punch missed Chakotay's chin, and the first officer pressed in with a double punch to Tuvok's gut. Beyond this new match, Kathryn saw B'Elanna run up behind Vorik, and take the spear with the emitter into her hands. She dissolved into a transporter beam after hitting her comm badge, not even looking at the Vorik. who had not moved in the entire battle.

          The pair of officers grappled on the ground, each trying to gain control over the other. Vulcan martial arts were subtle, quick and vicious. Chakotay's boxing was ferocious; forthright and strong. It didn't take long for either of them to have made serious injuries on the other's faces and bodies.

          Not much more, she prayed. No more.

          Chakotay's fist crashed into the Vulcan's temple, and she could hear breaking bones. His hand? His face?

          Tuvok dropped to the ground. Vorik finally moved to his side, gently placing his fingers for the mind meld.

          "It's over. The blood fever has passed."

          Kathryn threw the veil over her head, hitting her comm badge. "Janeway to transporter. Beam Tuvok and Vorik immediately to the med facilities on the Isabella."

          B'Elanna's cool voice replied quickly. "Aye, Captain. The Doctor is waiting for them now."

          She found herself exhaling deeply. She had pushed all thought of the Doctor's emitter away in the subsequent fighting. "Janeway out."

          Chakotay was on his knees in the sand, weaving back and forth, wiping the blood that had covered his chin off with his sleeve. She knelt in front of him, placing her hands on either shoulder.

          "My hero," she said, and kissed his lips gently.

          He passed out in her arms. She bore his weight against her body, struggling to hit her comm badge when she saw Tom and B'Elanna materialize in front of her.

          "We've got to get him to sick bay, too." Kathryn's order was unnecessary. Tom lifted the dead weight off her shoulders while B'Elanna ordered the transport. The women were left alone on the bloody beach, with the powerful serpents continuing to feast on the body of the fallen god.

          "What was that?" B'Elanna asked, horrified. But Kathryn's attention was focused on a different threat.

          A set of a dozen armed guards with black sticks strode down the beach toward of the camp. Both women knew those sticks must do something more than simply hitting the enemy, and they didn't want to find out.

          "It was a shape shifter," a woman's voice said as she stepped out from behind the guards.

          "A shape shifter?" Kathryn's voice was tight. "We know of them, Madame Deedum, in our own quadrant."

          "Do you? Do you know how he got here?" The genuine curiosity in Lady Deedum's voice set the emotional level of meeting the team down a notch.

          "No." Captain Janeway and her officer exchanged puzzled glances.

          Deedum looked dissatisfied with the answer, but didn't press it. "He's been in our sector of space for almost fifty years now. He's been running a pirate fleet off this planet for several decades. We thought," she said pointedly at the captain, "that you might be joining him when you said you wanted to land here."

          Kathryn pulled the veil off entirely now. "Why did you think so?"

          "It seems rather improbable, your story, you know. Pulled halfway across the galaxy. You've made it halfway back, including crossing Borg territory in seven years. You must see that we would be suspicious. We even put up a trap for you."

          "Seven distress calls."

          "Precisely. We did capture a large number of the pirate fleet with it, so it wasn't a total loss." Deedum signaled the guard to stand down, indicating the quickly decreasing pile of snakes. "Take care of that," she ordered, and turned to the Voyager officers.

          Kathryn tried to find something to say, but she was still too emotionally wrapped up in the morning's activities.

          Deedum took their arms in a congenial manner, turning them to walk toward the camp. "We learned last year about the life support carrier virus that was tracking under our messages to ships. We could not determine the source from our detectors, and it became necessary to use some old-fashioned trickery to find the culprits on our security staff. Most often, the life support crisis forces ships to land right away, where the pirates are waiting for them. Your endurance brought you closer to the planet that we knew they were using for their hideout. No one comes here, you know. Virtually every animal on the planet produces major electrical current that is fatal if two of them touch each other and another animal. I'm quite surprised that no one on your crew has yet been hurt."

          "We had your warning." Kathryn sighed. "Did you capture your traitors?"

          "We did. That final communique I had with you gave them to us. We've removed them and our judges will deal with them. We found the pirate base on the northern continent when you attempted your first landing. Fine flying, your pilot is very good."

          B'Elanna smiled, still reserved, but warming quickly. "Thank you. I'll pass your compliments along."

          Deedum nodded. "Please do. Now, we owe you a great debt, Captain Janeway. I'm sure that your ships need a great deal of repair after the stress that the overheating put on your systems."

          The three entered the campsite near the food tent, where Celes was serving Ayala his breakfast. He dropped the tray, scattering little pieces of food everywhere, galvanized as he beheld the glorious woman who had captured his dreams for the last ten days. She looked at him, a slow smile crossing her face. "Captain, will you introduce me to your second?"

          "This is Miguel Ayala," Kathryn began, but decided that the distinction in rank was less important. "Mr. Ayala, will you please join us?"

          B'Elanna excused herself from the conference, leaving the captain and the pilot to sit down with the Esorian woman. Neelix brought drinks and small pastries, and gladly joined them when the captain indicated a chair.

          "Madame Deedum," Ayala offered some food to their guest, who met his eyes as she accepted the offering. "I didn't think we would actually have the chance to meet you."

          Neelix and Kathryn exchanged bemused glances. That flicker of attraction from Mike's eyes sparked one in the alien's eyes, and it wasn't difficult to see that it wouldn't take long for the human or the Talaxian to be completely out of place at the table. She swallowed her coffee quickly, finding a way to get the information she needed before that happened.

          "Madame, you say that he was a shape shifter. Our Federation has been at war with a shape-shifting people from the Gamma Quadrant."

          "Did your Federation win?"

          "Yes, it did, but at great cost."

          Deedum pursed her lips, frowning slightly. "Your people must be more advanced that we assumed, Captain. We've been fighting this shape shifter for fifty years, and we would not have captured him at this point if not for your ship's ability to withstand the life support virus."

          "It didn't withstand it. We had no other option but to overcome it. We've gotten used to having no port to call home, Madame. We learn to endure."

          "I honor your endurance. We have had the shape shifter in custody three times. Each time, he has managed to escape us. It did not occur to us to use such a primitive method to stop him. We do not use electricity or power of this sort, except for the antiquaries' guild." She sipped the coffee carefully, and then with real enjoyment.

          Kathryn relaxed with her. "What kind of power do you use?"

          Deedum looked coy. "You told us about your Prime Directive when you first approached us about crossing our borders, Captain. It was decided then that we would similarly honor such a standard in regard to our handling of you. Let us say that your method of power production and usage were long since abandoned."

          "How do you know what we use?"

          "We've had a ship behind you the entire distance of your trek across our territory. Did you ever spot her?"

          Ayala shook his head. "We expected it, but we never found one. Your cloaking technology must be far superior to our sensors."

          Again, the tension between these two rose as the electricity between them grew. "It is. To be honest, Captain," Deedum tore her eyes from Ayala's, "my father would love to see your ship. Bioneural circuitry is quite a lost art form in our society. Do you think it would be possible for him to see your ship before you leave our borders?"

          "I don't see why not," Kathryn put down her empty cup, but stopped Neelix from refilling it. "But at the moment, our ship and her circuitry are unavailable for tours."

          She looked around at the crew filtering in for their breakfasts. Most of them looked at her with overt interest, checking out their captain in a long white robe that was obviously Vulcan in design. "I need to attend to some business, Madame. Will you excuse me for a while? I'll have Mr. Ayala show you around the camp, if you're interested."

          The violet eyes rested on the pilot, who was suddenly engrossed in return. "That will be quite satisfactory. Are your other officers being attended to now?"

          Ayala looked at the captain quickly. "Other officers?"

          "Yes, there was quite a fight going on when we approached the…" With a glance at Kathryn, she stopped. "Yes… a tour would be wonderful right now."

          Kathryn swept out of the food tent and headed for her tent. As soon as she could, she asked the Doctor for an update.

          "I think I'd better have you come to me," the Doctor replied. "When you can."

          "Now?"

          "No. I'll be taking Tuvok into surgery as soon as Tom finishes prepping him. Chakotay is in stasis for the moment."

          Bad. She tried to shuffle Deedum back in priority, but she needed more information, and hopefully she would know what help they could use. If they would be willing to assist B'Elanna, it would be possible for them to be back in space within a week.

          "I'll be there as soon as I can, but I doubt that I'll be there very soon, unless you need me."

          "Not at all. Mr. Paris, Ensign Wildman and I have everything under control. About my emitter, though, Captain…"

          "I'll talk to Seven and B'Elanna right away."

          "Thank you. Not that the Isabella isn't a perfectly lovely shuttlecraft." Apparently his sarcasm had been unaffected by the spear thrust into the portable emitter.

          "I know, you'll want to get out when you can." She looked at the puddle of Vulcan silk at her feet, and kicked it under her bed. "Janeway out."

          As she walked back into the tent community, she could hear the buzz already. Seven and B'Elanna worked in the Sacajewea's cargo hold, where the bay door was propped open to let in fresh air and bright light. The emitter was resting on a flat tray between them, where once again it was frustrating the two.

          Seven extended her tubules to run a diagnostic, but between B'Elanna's sarcastic tone and Seven radiating annoyance, and Kathryn knew peacemaking had just jumped to the top of the priority list.

          An hour later, Ayala escorted the Esorian team to the two shuttles, where the women still worked on the Doctor's emitter. The news about Tuvok was promising. Chakotay's turn on the table would begin shortly.

          Speculation was running like lightning through the camp. The captain, dressed in traditional Vulcan clothing. Chakotay, in similar garb. Tuvok and Chakotay both in serious medical condition, obviously the result of a brutal fight. No apparent enemies around…did they beat each other up? And how did the Doctor's emitter get damaged?

          Kathryn was almost grateful when Tom called her. "We've gotten several injuries from animal interactions. Costel and Chell both were hit by a small bird - we think it was attracted by their coloring. I'm sure they'll be all right, but we've ordered all the Bolians to wear protective headgear in the meantime. Neelix's portable replicator was blown to pieces when two small rodents were apparently attracted to the power cables. I'm not really sure how it happened, but both of the animals survived.'

          The Captain rubbed her forehead. Once Chakotay was out of surgery, she was going to need the Doctor's attention herself. "Can we set up some sort of perimeter force field to keep the animals out?"

          "We tried that, ma'am. It attracts them."

          Madame Deedum listened without interrupting, but the smile on her face grew with every disastrous report.

          "What does Chowboth say?" Kathryn rubbed her forehead as she asked the question that she was afraid of the answer.

          "They like power. Anyplace we've got a power cable, we've got beady little eyes just waiting to pounce. She thinks they might be seeing some wavelengths produced by the electrical circuitry and it's drawing them like honey."

          "What's the core temperature of Voyager, Lieutenant Paris?"

          "Right now, most of it is down to the low uncomfortable range. The fans and ventilation systems are running at max. The core is still pretty hot - another cool night and we might be able to get to it tomorrow."

          "Janeway out."

          The Esorian tried to compose her face, but it was clear that she was amused by the whole circumstances. "Captain, if you would be willing to give me a few minutes of your time, perhaps we might be able to repay your services to the Domain."

          At that moment, Kathryn was willing to make a deal with Lady T'Dang herself.

          "We can transport all of you to our closest planet, a resort planet called Asiker. We can assist you in repairing your equipment and restock your supplies as we are able."

          The captain was shocked by the generous offer. "For getting rid of the pirate?"

          "Your assistance, albeit it unintentional, has removed a great political problem for my government. We wish to repay that. There will be no cost to you."

          "Our situation here has become far more dangerous than we expected it to be," Kathryn admitted. "How did the pirates live on this planet with such dangers?"

          "I'm told that it looks like some sort of fire bomb or phaser was used to decimate the area surrounding the station that was built. They didn't let any animal life within several hundred meters." Deedum stroked the table with her flat hand. "Gone. Black. Not a plant, not a rock. It's glassy and hard looking. I can't imagine what power must have been used to wreak such damage."

          Not an option for us, Kathryn thought. "We appreciate your offer, but we're not going to be able to leave this planet for at least four weeks, according to our engineer."

          "It's really not a problem, Captain. You have some primitive transporter technology, so you'll understand what I mean when I say that I can get you to my ship without any problems."

          "I understand, but I can't leave my ship here."

          Deedum looked confused. "But we can take you ship with us."

          "How? A tractor beam isn't going to be able to shift the ship out of that recess cave."

          "The same way that we would transport you, Captain."

          Janeway looked at the silent Ayala with disbelief. "You can transport my ship?"

          Deedum's laugh tinkled joyously. "Without a single problem."

          From behind them, Kathryn heard a voice in a stage whisper. "Tap your heels together three times and say…"

          The repair bay where Voyager was transported after the short trip from the Planet of the Electrically Threatening Animals, as Tom called it, dwarfed her ship. Of course, the Esorian ship that transported them would dwarf the largest Borg cubes. Even Seven was silent as she beheld the scale of their hosts' ship.

          Voyager was gently tucked into a little corner, and huge crowds of aliens came to look at her. As Captain, she felt it was her duty to stay on the ship, but the Esorian engineers were adamant. Their work required temperature levels below the tolerance of the humans. Better to take the time on Asiker and enjoy the fresh air! Come now, Captain! Off you go!

          Their good-humored nature was hard to resist. So was their promise to have the ship functional in ten days. She settled for a quiet village directly under the space station's geosynchronous orbit and learned to like the local sport and tasted the simple cuisine.

          Daily reports from the engineers were hopeful. The Doctor's reports were less so.

          "Tuvok's going to recover, Captain, but very slowly. My recommended treatment to help the commander deal with his Pon Farr included intensive physical training." The Doctor's voice was full of self-recrimination. "It allowed him to continue the fighting far longer than I would have ever thought. He sustained a great deal of injury."

          "He probably would have increased his workouts anyway, Doctor. He began pushing the entire security team to meet new physical requirements a year ago. Without realizing it, he was already preparing his body for Pon Farr."

          The Doctor accepted this gratefully. "Thank you. And would you please extend my gratitude to the Esorian engineer who repaired my mobile emitter?"

          "I have already. Although I'm quite sure you won't agree, I'm glad for the damage. The engineers who worked on it were so pleased with it and the challenge to repair it that we got a great deal of understanding just how that thing works. Seven thinks that with their help, we have been able to establish some baselines and develop some diagnostics for it."

          "That's wonderful, Captain!"

          "Indeed it is." She turned to the other bed in the makeshift sickbay. "And Chakotay?"

          "He's still in the induced coma, Captain. Those four skull fractures are all healed, but I prefer him to be unconscious for another forty-eight hours to allow the brain-tissue to fully respond to my treatment. If he hadn't refused the treatment by Seven's nanoprobes, he'd be up and walking around by now." He had that hopeful look on his face, as if he expected her to override Chakotay's clearly expressed wishes.

          "I learn from my mistakes, Doctor. If this treatment will work for Chakotay, then let it work. We're going to be here a while. Let him recover in peace." She couldn't touch her officer because of the sterile field the Doctor had placed around him to protect him from alien infections while he recovered. Once again she realized how much she need to touch her crew - the power of that physical contact reassured them all.

          Her little village was charming. Any number of her crew would join her for the evening meal, sharing in their hosts' food with good appetite and their dance with enthusiasm. During the day, most of them would leave her to her official duties. She selected Harry to escort her to the various functions. He took advantage of the opportunity, learning how to negotiate under a master of the technique. When it came to arrange for the trade of several tons of foods, Kathryn left it in his capable hands and was not surprised to see how well he had done. She really should promote him…

          Neelix met her at the gate to the estate, this evening's escort to the private dinner. The elegantly carved doorways arced over them, and beyond, in the garden, twinkly lights gave the space a fairy-like quality. Madame Deedum quickly greeted her guest with effusive smiles and warm hospitality.

          "My father has been most insistent that I bring you in at once, Captain. He's been working on your ship's bioneural system, he's simply fascinated at the artistry of the system. I'm afraid he'll bore you all evening with questions about it."

          "We'll make sure that he and Seven have plenty of time to talk."

          "They have already." Madame Deedum dimpled as she laughed. "I had to drag them both away from a computer simulation to come to dinner tonight. I'm sure he'll write his next antiquaries paper on your ship."

          "We'll be honored by his effort. I hope that we'll get a copy of it when he's done."

          "I'll be sure to ask him to send it to you. Without any viral attachments, of course."

          Mike Ayala, in a finely fitted Esorian garment, gave them the tour of the estate where he was currently staying while their hostess tended to some last minute duties.

          "Enjoying yourself, Mike?" Neelix asked with a sly grin.

          He sighed dramatically. "It's a complicated thing, Neelix. She has two husbands, a junior husband and several other bond-pairings that I gave up trying to understand. One more time, those violet eyes are breaking my heart."

          His tone of voice didn't sound very inconsolable. "I'll just have to get back to the Alpha Quadrant before I find the right woman to settle down with, I guess."

          His commitment to return home was reassuring to his captain, who smiled wistfully with him as they rejoined the others.

          Captain's log: Stardate 54678.1 We've delayed our departure from Asiker until tomorrow. At the moment, the crew is enjoying a farewell party in their honor while I take over the "officer of the day duties". Since the ship is still technically off-limits until midnight for final tests, I will return to the planet shortly. Chief Engineer Torres reports that the bioneural circuitry is in excellent shape. She says we should overheat them on a regular basis. The rest of us would rather we didn't, but we'll note it as a possible treatment for future malfunctions. Seven of Nine assures me that the computer-controlled life support systems are now impregnable. Several tests confirm her statement, but we'll be more careful to check all the wavelengths when we receive messages in the future.

          Because of the bioneural circuitry malfunctions, I have been unable to record any log entries during this time. I shall summarize here the last ten days. We landed on a planet that was inhabited by dangerous animals. Tuvok and Chakotay physically were able to defeat a shape shifter from the Dominion in the Gamma Quadrant. This action ended a fifty-year piracy career in this sector. The Esorians, grateful for the elimination of this threat in their territories, helped us restore the bioneural circuitry to its original specs. Tuvok and Chakotay have recovered fully from their injuries and will be serving in their usual capacities when we leave in the morning. I myself found the last week's time to be one of the most enjoyable shore leaves of my life.

          Epilogue

          Little villages have big dreamers. Chakotay had told her that once, and she tended to believe that its truth transcended the galaxy. Here, little boys and girls talked with her about visiting her home world when they grew up. Teenagers, who willingly allowed her to try to play their version of an after-dark sport that was half tennis and half hover ball, would listen to her stories about the places she had been and asked questions that she remembered having the nerve to ask only when she was young.

          Now back on the planet, beside the rolling river, she could sit and watch the currents carry away woes and weights. Relax in its soothing rumble as it sprayed over the rocks. Sit on a pleasant beach with a little campfire and be.

          Three days before their departure, Harry reported that the food trades were completed, and the food was not only nutritionally acceptable and Neelix-approved, it actually tasted good. The lead engineer who supervised the re-gel and restoration of the gel packs on the ship had invited the crew to a final night's festivities, and promised that the food would be a buffet of the traded goods, to allow them to taste the best that Asiker had to offer. Knowing engineering parties, Kathryn declined gracefully, mentioning that she should be spending her last night with her hosting family.

          That they were off visiting distant relatives that night - she didn't mention that to anyone. Blessed solitude was not to be wasted.

          "I should have guessed you would find me," she said.

          He was standing in the shadows of the dusk-lit trees behind her. "I've lost the skill to walk silently. My father would be disappointed in me."

          "Your father didn't expect you to be tracking me, either. How did you find me, Chakotay?"

          He came around the campfire, and found that a place was set for a companion against a convenient rock, a plate with some bread and cheese already laid out. "You knew I was coming?"

          "I'd be surprised if you didn't. Engineering parties aren't your style either."

          Sitting down on the sand, he looked around carefully. "I'm sorry I was stuck in sickbay so long. This is a lovely planet."

          "It is. But you have only yourself to blame. Seven offered nanoprobes for therapy."

          She could see him shudder. "No thanks."

          They enjoyed the natural noises as the sun sank, stretching a stunning pink and magenta sunset into blue and purple streaks. Far away, they could see lightning strikes, and felt the chill of the on-coming front. "I think I'm going to order Vorik to get married."

          "What?" His response was galvanic.

          "I may even marry him myself. I don't think I can go through another Pon Farr again."

          "If you're trying to avoid Pon Farr, marrying a Vulcan may not be the best choice."

          "Good point." She offered a battered tin cup. "Local wine. Sweetish, but it compliments the cheese."

          He took the cup, waiting for her to lift her own. "To shape shifters," she offered.

          They drank the toast, even if Chakotay didn't appreciate the sentiment. "How did he get here?"

          "Tuvok said - remember, during the fight, he was able to establish a sort of mind meld with him - that it must have been some sort of wormhole. Tuvok felt the experience, but the shape shifter couldn't identify what brought him here, so Tuvok couldn't know either. We checked with the Esorian astral mapmakers. Based on what Tuvok was able to recompose from the meld, they believe that the wormhole must have been a very temporary anomaly. They have no record of it."

          "Not uncommon for a wormhole."

          "Nope. He immediately got involved with a group of small-time pirates, and managed to increase his fleet to fifteen ships by the time we arrived."

          "How did he find us?"

          "Tuvok said he was already on the planet. He was able to shift into an avian or bird shape and once they located where we hid, he flew in and landed on a nearby tree. He watched the entire …fight…and decided that he could take us on, destroy us and take the ship to expand his fleet."

          "Why would he want Voyager? We're nothing compared to the Esorian ships."

          "Esorian ships weren't his targets. Several planetary systems trade with Esor. He was wrecking the trade with his tactics. Do you remember those seven distress signals?"

          "Yes."

          "Those were a trap for us, but instead, the shape shifter's fleet decided to go for it. The Esorians took out about half the pirate fleet there, and the rest when they tried to leave the planet after the shifter was killed."

          Chakotay sipped his wine. "A good day's work."

          "They think we did the hard part. Apparently electricity hadn't occurred to them as a method of controlling him."

          "Those animals…" Chakotay shook his head. "What would you have done if we weren't rescued?"

          "I don't know. I've worked very hard all this week to not think about that. The best I've come up with so far is that it might be better to take the ship into a hostile environment, like an ice planet, or land in the ocean, to cool everything off quickly."

          "I know how you hate landing on planets anyway, but a water landing?"

          She groaned. "I'm not thinking about it."

          He lifted his cup. "To not thinking."

          "I'll drink to that!"

          The wine was warming to start, but once the jolt passed, she noticed the growing chill around them in the twilight. "I've got more to eat back at the house."

          "I'm not really hungry," he confessed. "I didn't expect you to feed me."

          She sat back against her own rock, smiling that smile that she saved for when she surprised him.

          "But I do have a few questions, if you don't mind."

          "Not at all."

          "The Doctor said I should expect some short term memory loss from the fight, so I'm not sure if this is a memory or a dream during stasis."

          Stasis dreams were usually very vivid and graphic. They both knew that. Thinking that the last thing he might remember was the violence of the fight, she winced. "What is it?"

          "I remember you, in front of me," he tossed some wood into the fire to warm the air around them. "I remember you saying something, and kissing me. I don't remember anything else."

          In the brighter flames, he could see her face color. "I said, 'my hero' and yes, I kissed you. I didn't know your jaw was shattered, Chakotay. I'm sure the pain must have made you pass out."

          "No," he laughed. "I was going to pass out anyway. You were there to catch me."

          She smiled at him. "Any time."

          "I would like to ask one more thing." He hesitated, listening her to urge him on. "I understand the limitations we've put on our relationship over the years, Kathryn. I think we've both become comfortable…with the way things are between us."

          She nodded, but didn't meet his eyes. "It's easier this way."

          "It is." His agreement brought her focus back to him. "But…Kathryn, if the only time in my life…in our time on Voyager that you're going to kiss me is when I'm about to pass out from pain, it doesn't seem very fair."

          She chuckled with him. "I guess it doesn't."

          "So, I'd like another kiss, if you don't mind. We can skip the 'my hero' part."

          Outright laughter from both of them this time. "Oh, all right, Chakotay."

          She came to sit beside him, trying to read his face in the flickering light. As gently as she kissed him on that bloody beach, she kissed him again.

          Kathryn sat back against the rock, enjoying the tingle of butterflies in her stomach.

          "No, that's not it."

          She turned to look at him, astonished. "What?"

          "It's not right."

          "What's not right?"

          "The kiss. I was kneeling on the sand, and you were kneeling in front of me."

          "You want to recreate the kiss?"

          "Without the fight, but yes, I do."

          The nerve of the man! She had to laugh at his very audacity.

          "Of course, Chakotay, whatever you say." She waited till he was on his knees and she joined him, her hands on his shoulders.

          His kiss was more responsive than the first one had been, but she lost that thought as she felt his hands rest on her hips, then slide up to her waist. They had only touched lips and hands the first time, but now thighs met, and shoulders, and bellies…

          He pulled back again. "Still not right."

          No, she thought wildly, that kiss was nothing like the first.

          He picked up a white veil from the sand. She hadn't noticed him carry it with him to the fireside, but here it was. "You were wearing this."

          She dipped her head for him to settle the gossamer fabric over her hair. He fussed with it a little, pulling the fabric to frame her face. "There."

          This kiss was nothing like any kiss before. Passionate, compelling, unsettling in spirit and breaking in conviction. Electricity crackled between them, firing the very atoms of air around them.

          "Yes, that's what I remember," he said as he sat back on his feet, his hands slowly releasing her body, stroking over her shoulder, sliding down to take her hands. "Thank you. Will I see you back on the ship tonight?"

          She tried to swallow, to breathe, to think… "I don't know yet."

          "I'll leave you to your privacy, Kathryn. I know how little of it we get on the ship." He stood up slowly, still holding her hands. "Good night."

          She knew all that it would take would be to say his name, to call him back. Three kisses? Was that all it took to break every protocol? Every parameter?

          Chakotay?

          ~end~

          Suitable thanks must be given to Dakota, who created this incredible background and title to spec.

           

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          Voting 7 October 2003 to 7 December 03.