CHAPTER NINE

 

Kathryn stood in the lounge and watched Chakotay. It was early morning and Tara was still sleeping. An hour ago she had jackknifed from the bed when she heard Chakotay's restless moaning. After that he had become quiet after waking up from his dream which he couldn't remember. She had  to go on duty in an hour and she had still to wake up the baby and prepare her for the nursery.  Kathryn was tired already; she had held Chakotay when he cried out in his sleep; she held him when he rocked,  distressed at feeling the intense sadness in the wake of his dream...or nightmare. Her heart burned for him. Chakotay always called her "love of my life" when they had been on New Earth. Those were the words she heard, words that sounded so forlorn, so filled with lost hope. She wondered whether his dream been about that hidden period of their life? Her hands hanged loosely at her sides and she had no idea what to say to him as he looked at her.

 

He had a drawn look, his facial muscles were tense,  the lines of his mouth grim. He had not spoken yet, and earlier he had quietly gone about going to the bathroom, showering and getting dressed. It was the getting dress that made her consider speaking to the EMH today, as soon as she could get an opportunity to do so. Something had to be done. Chakotay was moving away from her and Tara - further and further away....

 

The Maquis dress he had kept all these years still fitted him snugly, and it reinforced once again his old ruggedness, the ruthless streak that simmered just underneath the polish of Chakotay's civility, his great sense of honour and fairness. He had been an angry warrior most of his life; with her he had become her gentle warrior. The clothing was strong, dark brown colours that was Spartan rather than a statement of fashion. He had been in the business then of terrorist activities, being a renegade on the run. Clothing was just that: practical covering that suited the aggression. On Chakotay it had become him.

 

That was it. Chakotay always, always looked so much more aggressive in his Maquis clothing than in anything else she had ever seen him in. His Starfleet uniform was not only stylish but it suggested order, discipline, regimentation, a sharp contrast to the high boots, the belt around his waist, the way his muscles tensed at the arms and shoulders, even through the fabric.

 

That was not all. A few minutes after he dressed, he had walked back to his wardrobe and fished out his boxing gloves. Her heart sank. Now he stood, looking at her, the gloves hanging from his fingers, and a tog bag ready on the floor. 

 

"You don't have to do that, Chakotay."  How could she keep the gnawing anxiety from her voice?

 

"I don't know who I am, Kathryn."

 

"Let me help you then, Chakotay. You're not - "

 

"How? I'm reading things about a Commander Chakotay who is a different person, a different man. It doesn't sound like me, Kathryn..." There was a note of desperation in his voice. She tried to place herself in his situation, of feeling displaced, lost, yet everything around her should evoke a recollection of some kind.

 

Kathryn closed her eyes. She saw the large, flat rock on New Earth, two persons lying there in the sun, naked. Her fingers trembled as she brushed them across her brow; when she spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

 

"Then let me remember for you, Chakotay...please..."

 

Chakotay took a step closer to her. The gloves dangled from his hand. His face looked suddenly hard, the planes more chiseled than the smoothness she touched in the evenings when they retired for bed. She had to remember that he had been discharged from sickbay only a day ago; he was still ill, weak from his ordeal. There was a determined edge to his voice. Kathryn wondered if Chakotay realised at all how different he sounded. But then, how could he? He had no recollection of the man he had evolved into; therefore he couldn't know what he had become: a man of honour and valour. He was her warrior, and right now her warrior was in an argumentative mood.

 

"How would that make me happier, Kathryn? Or more contented? Or, the spirits forbid, help me accept my fate?"

 

"Chakotay, at least, you'll know how to deal with some of the situations that of necessity you will encounter just walking the ship," Kathryn replied with sudden fire. Her hands had gone where they always did when she was in command mode: on her hips. Chakotay stared for a second, blinked and again Kathryn's heart thundered that she might have stirred something.

 

"Look at me, Kathryn Janeway. I am Maquis, it's all I remember. I've lived a life that would make all your experiences on Starfleet vessels pale into irrelevance. I've done things, and things have happened to me I'm not proud of, but I fought for the freedom of my people, Kathryn. I have no family, I have no ties, and here, on Voyager, I learn that half of the "family" I had on the Liberty, died. I have to learn that there was a Dominion War and that Maquis who weren't raped, killed, wiped out or tortured, are rotting in Federation prisons where they just possibly are brutalised for being traitors. That was my life, the life I remember."

 

"Chakotay, we forged a new crew, and you have a new family. You have me, you have Tara. We - "

 

He closed the distance between them, gripped her shoulders so tightly that she winced in pain, but Chakotay was oblivious to her discomfort. His eyes were coal black, yet they sparked fire.

 

"This morning, Kathryn, I awoke from what you tell me was a dream. I woke up and there was nothing. Nothing! I cannot remember anywhere in my life that I felt the sorrow so deeply. I've been angry, Kathryn, for a long, long time. I've been tough, aggressive, I've killed men, I've been tortured - yes, don't stare at me like that! I've felt loneliness; sometimes, just sometimes, there was joy that I could save a woman from the clutches of Cardassian rapists. I've felt loneliness, fear, compassion, empathy, sympathy, and sometimes, I damned felt near to tears. I've lost so much, everything that connected me to a name, a family, a home, Kathryn, but I can tell you I have never felt such deep sadness waking up this morning. Never!"

 

He shook her so hard that her tears spilled and rolled down her cheeks.

 

"You'll get better - " she tried to placate.

 

"As what? A living replica of a man who was your husband?"

 

"Who is my husband! I'm sorry, Chakotay. I want to, but I can't give you back six and a half years... Forgive me..."

 

"For what? Asking me to assume the life of another man?"

 

"Chakotay! You are my husband Doesn't that count for something?"

 

Her words sounded suddenly without her earlier fervour. She knew she was losing him. He was angry, his anger borne out of his frustration that she and Tara were living proof that his life changed and his dimensions forever shaped to include them, and he couldn’t give account of it. How could she deny Chakotay's old life? How could she deny the very cause that made the Federation send her after him to bring him home, to justice and to prison? She couldn't, and however much she tried to convince him that he was a different man now, Chakotay's recollections of his life stalled when Gul Evek rained fire on him in the Badlands.

 

"If I could remember, it would, Kathryn. If I could remember! So now, if you'll leave me alone, I'm going to find someone on the holodeck I at least know!"

 

"Chakotay!"

 

In desperation she threw herself against him and her arms clamped around his waist. Chakotay's hands came up, the pair of gloves still dangling. Resisting the urge to hug her very close to him and caress her hair and make her feel better, he clutched her shoulders again and thrust her from him.

 

"Leave me, Kathryn. I am dead!"

 

A loud wail sounded from the baby's room and Kathryn swiveled round, then turned quickly to look at Chakotay. Her eyes were dark with pain.

 

"She's your little girl, Chakotay..."

 

Chakotay hesitated for a second, then he turned on his heels and before Kathryn could call him back, the cabin doors had opened and closed.  Kathryn pinched the bridge of her nose, blinked several times, then turned and walked swiftly to comfort Tara who had pulled herself up in her crib and sobbed with large gulps.

 

"Oh, sweet Tara," she cried as she lifted the baby out of the crib and held her close to her, "what's to become of us?"

 

*** 

 

Chakotay stumbled drunkenly in the ring. His legs buckled under him before he came upright again. Through his swollen eye he could just make out Baby Jake's figure as his opponent pranced about on the canvas, punching the air while he waited for Chakotay to close in.

 

"Come on, Kid! Don't drop your arm! I said, don’t drop your arm!" Boothby shouted.

 

Chakotay's fists came up to shielded his face; he dodged Baby Jake's lethal upper left hook, dropped his guard for a second when his legs buckled again. The next moment a fist crashed against his jaw. His head jerked and he sagged to his knees. Shaking his head to clear the wooziness he turned to Boothby.

 

"What did I tell you?" the old crony mumbled. "C'mon, get up! Get up!"

 

Chakotay tried to get up. He was drunk, one tooth was loose and blood oozed slowly from a deep cut on his left eye brow ridge. He was certain his nose was also broken. The eye had swollen to proportions impossible to see; it was useless to try and peep through it. Through his good eye he could see Baby Jake dancing around him. Struggling to get up and standing at last, Chakotay  staggered towards his opponent. Baby Jake threw a few shadow punches, danced around lightly and taunted:

 

"C'mon, Sweet Chuck, you got ants in your pants! Jelly-knees!"

 

"I'll kill you..." Chakotay warned as he threw a right jab at Baby Jake, but the younger boxer deftly averted his slow punch and swung another sharp left hook, followed by a left jab to the mid-section. Chakotay doubled up in pain, and by the time Chakotay landed, he knew that his lip was split open,  another tooth had dislodged and he was going to vomit blood. He lay on the canvas, winded, dazed. For a few seconds the ring spun around him, then mercifully, the spinning slowed down. He tasted his own blood, then spit on the canvas.

 

"Okay, that's enough, Baby Jake," he heard Boothby shout at the boxer.

 

"W-Wait..." muttered Chakotay through swollen lips and eyes, lifting a gloved hand, "I'm not..."

 

"Are you mad? Baby Jake's got your number, Kid!"

 

"I'm not finished..."

 

Chakotay wobbled about, unable to see properly even through his good eye. His body was bruised; his gut was punched raw. With his vision seriously compromised, he managed to see the hovering blur of his opponent's gloves as he punched air. Baby Jake's voice taunted him, called him Sweet Chuck again....

 

"You're crazy, Chakotay, crazy!" Boothby's voice sounded dimly as Chakotay's ears buzzed from the last blow to his face.

 

Chakotay moved in on Baby Jake. The younger boxed was far more agile. Chakotay had not fully recovered from his injuries and his head ached, but he was determined to knock Baby Jake out.

 

"Come on, Baby Jake," he mumbled through swollen lips, "let's see how your puny left hook   - "

 

"Kid! Don't drop your - !" Boothby's shouted a warning.

 

Too late. Chakotay was wide open as he dropped his fists to chest level. The next moment Chakotay's head snapped back as a left upper cut followed by a right hook split his eye-bank of his good eye.  He saw lightning sparks, a bright light overpowering him, then everything went dark as he collapsed to the floor.

 

"Damn! Damn! Damn!" Boothby cussed as he climbed into the ring and bent over his boxer. He looked irritably at Baby Jake.

 

"What the hell have you done!"

 

"You said three rounds, boss. I went three rounds. I should have knocked him out in one!"

 

"You knew his weakness, Baby Jake. Better watch it. Next time, he will kill you."

 

Boothby bent over Chakotay. "Damn foolish man," he muttered as he checked Chakotay's vital signs. Then he frowned, looked up at the young boxer who was still prancing around in the ring.

 

"He's dead, you moron! You killed him!"

 

He looked back at the prone boxer, his eyes widening as Chakotay moved and started to moan.

 

"Oh...hell, what now?"

 

"Computer...end...programme..." Chakotay croaked before he lost consciousness again.

 

****

 

When Kathryn returned to her quarters during lunch time, she expected to find Chakotay there. He had gone out early the morning, and they parted angrily. She wasn't certain how he was going to react to seeing her again, but she had to speak with him, confront him about his behaviour that was slowly affecting them all negatively. Chakotay had looked so Maquis and so aggressive that she had difficulty reconciling that man with the man she married two years ago.  She gave a sigh. There had been so many tears, even on her wedding day...

 

She took in a deep breath when she walked to Chakotay's side and to his office area. She frowned when there was no sign of him, then she hit her commbadge.

 

"Computer, locate Commander Chakotay."

 

"Commander Chakotay is in holodeck 2."

 

"Computer, what programme is running?" As if she didn't know. He had taken his boxing gloves and togs this morning.

 

"There is currently no programme running in holodeck 2."

 

"What?"

 

"Please restate your request."

 

"How long has Commander Chakotay been in holodeck two?"

 

"Three hours and forty minutes."

 

By the time the computer responded, Kathryn was on her way out of the quarters.  She walked briskly, almost knocking a crewmember out of the way in her hurry. She had hardly time to note an apology and nodded quickly. The ensign saw the concern on the Captain's face, but kept smiling as she made her way to the mess hall where she was going to meet her friend who would be the first to know that Captain Janeway was seen hurrying again in the direction of sick bay. The ensign had no doubt that it was sick bay since she heard the distress in the Captain's voice.

 

"Janeway to sick bay."

 

"Yes, Captain, what can I do for you?" the voice of the EMH sounded.

 

"Commander Chakotay has been in holodeck 2 since this morning. There is currently no programme running. I fear something may have happened to Chakotay. He's been in there for hours and not responding to my hail. Get him out of there, Doctor. I'm on my way to sick bay."

 

"Yes, Captain."

 

"Janeway out."

 

****

 

The second Captain Janeway closed communication, the EMH beamed an unconscious Commander Chakotay out of holodeck two. He lifted his eyebrows in mild surprise at the Commander's condition as Chakotay lay on the biobed. The EMH shook his head then set about scanning Chakotay's injuries, relishing the opportunity to apprise the Captain of the notion that no one on Voyager actually listened to the EMH anymore, and that Commander Chakotay was high on the list as one of those individuals who was constitutionally unable to look after their own bodies, particularly after severe injuries such as the Commander had suffered not more than a week ago.

 

Didn't the man ever listen? Who was he today? Kid Chakotay? The Doctor, who honoured The Oath, had a hard time to keep himself from giving the Commander a what-for, going three rounds just to knock sense into Voyager's First Officer. What was he thinking? That his memory might return if he let some upstart boxer who operated on adrenaline alone beat his brains to a pulp? Commander Chakotay's brain had been shaken around in his skull like a beaten egg from the accident; he was still on the mend and what was he doing? Administer Instant Home-Based Medicare?

 

The Doctor was as irate as he had been when he was first activated on Stardate 48315.6. He needed to have Tom Paris here to deal with the Commander. Commander Chakotay had overstepped the limits to which he had tested the Doctor's equanimity in the preponderance of injuries from one person alone. He was no more going to deal with swollen eyes and loose teeth and cracked jaws and broken noses than transport rank pins from babies' stomachs. What did they think he was? A country GP?

 

"Ah, Captain. It's good you are here. Commander Chakotay is about to wake up," he said without greeting as Kathryn Janeway entered the sick bay.

 

"Chakotay!" She hurried to his side just as he groaned awake.

 

"I'm not finished, Captain - "

 

The Commander and the Captain took no notice of the EMH who was still in the process of regenerating broken skin and closing up the gashes above Chakotay's eyes.

 

"Kathryn..."

 

"Do you even recognise him, Captain?" the EMH said smugly, then stalked to another bed where a sick ensign lay who was on the point of throwing up. Kathryn had eyes only for Chakotay.

 

"What happened? You were in the holodeck for hours, and - "

 

"Commander Chakotay was beaten to a pulp by Baby "Iron Fist" Jake Watkins and knocked unconscious," the EMH interrupted with unsparing honesty. He was standing at Ensign Darkon's bed and shouted across the room.

 

"Care to tell the Captain more, Doc, while you're at it?" Chakotay responded, groaning again as Kathryn helped him to a sitting position. Kathryn held Chakotay's hand, her eyes darkening with concern at the sight of him. His face looked puffed, almost unrecognisable.

 

It was all the EMH needed. Chakotay needed him first and he had other patients to see. Paris should be in here later to continue monitoring the Commander.  The EMH cleared his throat impatiently.

 

"He lost his mouth piece in the first round, dislodged two teeth in the second, a split lip, both eye brow ridges split wide open, and here's the cherry on the cake, Captain. He had a broken jaw. I fixed that first. What a pity. The man can actually speak."

 

"Go to hell..."

 

"Chakotay!" Kathryn looked aghast at Chakotay.

 

"I think you'd better leave, Kathryn. I'll be alright."

 

Kathryn dropped his hand, distressed at how resolute Chakotay sounded. Her lips trembled for a instant and when he saw that, he softened somewhat.

 

"I'm sorry, Kathryn," he sighed. "I'll be fine now, I just underestimated my opponent - "

 

"He compromised his own strength and well-being, that's what. Now, lie back, Commander, you need a face lift."

 

Chakotay grabbed the doctor's wrist. The EMH had been standing with the regenerator, ready to repair damaged skin.

 

"Do what you have to, Doc. I'll be out of here now - " Chakotay sat up again and the EMH pushed him back unceremoniously.

 

"Captain?"

 

The EMH looked at Kathryn Janeway, seeking her backing. She nodded grimly. Chakotay needed to recover fully and he was ruining all his chances of doing so. He knew what was happening to him. He couldn't remember and the attempt to find the elusive links and images alone frustrated him; they came in his dreams which, when he woke up, also remained grey mists. The Doctor, emboldened by the Captain's approval, jabbed Chakotay quickly in the neck with a hypospray. Chakotay's eyes widened for one second in total surprise before his eyes closed and his body sagged into a relaxed state. Kathryn breathed a sigh of relieve.

 

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll be in my ready room. I've arranged with one of the crew to look after Tara. When Commander Chakotay is awake, let me know, please."

 

"Certainly, Captain."

 

Kathryn turned to the sleeping man. Chakotay would remain sedated for the next few hours. Hopefully he'll be calmer by then and she could attempt to talk to him again. She leaned over, took his hand again in hers and kissed him. He didn't stir at the touch, but she was gratified when a light sigh escaped him. When she straightened up again, the EMH said:

 

"Captain, I'll have to tell you now. Commander Chakotay will have to heal on his own. His memory, that is. It's not going to happen with a knock to the head, or getting beaten senseless in a boxing ring. It's not going to happen with conventional medicine, and I would not recommend a mind-meld at this point."

 

"What are you saying, Doctor?"

 

"There are some things Commander Chakotay probably suppressed before the accident, and those things are what I believe, troubling him. It's very deeply embedded and well, there's no knowing when or what will trigger his memories..."

 

Kathryn nodded, and prepared to leave. She was already at the sick bay doors when the EMH said softly:

 

"I guess she's not going to tell him..."

 

***

 

Tom Paris was on his way to sick bay and whistling; here and there a word or phrase of the song came out.

 

"...a smile is just a smile..."

 

"A lovely day for it, Lieutenant Paris!" Naomi Wildman greeted brightly as she and Chell passed him in the corridor.

 

"...as time goes by-y-y-y-y...!"

 

"Huh?"

 

"Casablanca," Tom offered jovially as Chell looked at him with a blank expression and Naomi frowned.

 

"Oh. Whatever. Right, Miss Captain's helper?"

 

Naomi shook her head vigorously.

 

"Right."

 

"You should try it!" Tom said as he approached sick bay. He turned round to look at Chell and Naomi but they were out of audible range already. "Oh, well," he sighed. "I'm guess I'm alone in the desert. The last person who was interested in Casablanca was Chakotay..."

 

Tom hesitated before he entered. He would be alone with Commander Chakotay today. The Doctor would be going off-line the minute Tom entered. "I need to update..." he had said laconically this morning. Tom had not been fazed by the Doctor's announcement. He had been left sickbay alone on more than one occasion and he was more than capable of dealing with sick patients and healing all ailments. And, he was in a good mood today. Not that he wasn't in one most of the time these days. After B'Elanna's very sensual backrub this morning, nothing could disturb his equilibrium. Even Miral behaved all morning, and, she had taken her very first steps too.

 

Now Commander Chakotay...

 

Chakotay got beaten up quite badly by Baby "Iron Fist" Jake this morning. Chakotay had lain unconscious in sickbay for hours before the Captain alerted the EMH. It had been all over the ship by high tea time, courtesy Ensign Darkon. The Commander had not been in the best of moods after that, and the Doctor had been forced to sedate the Angry Warrior. The Warrior even chased his wife out of sickbay, and that was something to behold. The Captain got annoyed by the Commander's nonsense and he heard it was the Captain herself who instructed the doctor to sedate her very angry husband.

 

Tom sighed. He wondered how he would have reacted had he lost six and a half years of his life. Everything BV - Before Voyager. He'd not have known B'Elanna, or that he had married her, that they had a smart baby they called Miral, after B'Elanna's mother...

 

Tom took a deep breath and stepped forward. The doors of sick bay slid open. In the far corner - he always referred to it as the High Care section of sickbay, he could see the Commander sitting up. He had also seen in his peripheral vision how the EMH had taken himself offline. He shrugged and told himself: Remember, Tom Paris, you're in a good mood.

 

Chakotay swung his feet off the bed.

 

"And where do you think you're going, Commander? I have to run tests - "

 

"Out of my way, Paris!"

 

"Jeez, I just got here, Commander. My, my - "

 

The next moment Chakotay was standing on the floor. He pushed Tom away from him; Tom staggered backwards, but recovered instantly. The Commander advanced, and he spat at Tom:

 

"No mercenary is going to touch me. Back off!"

 

"Commander, you forget," Tom started, emitting a light laugh, "your life belongs to me - "

 

"What? What did you say? My life belongs to you? You're nothing but  worthless, no-good wash-out trash looking for thrills in the Maquis! Move away from me, I said!"

 

"No, Commander, if you'll let me explain - "

 

"How many bars of latinum do you want this time, Paris? Enough to set up a bar for life, fly?"  Chakotay pushed Tom away from him again but Tom didn't budge, standing his ground with the big man. Chakotay had a murderous glint in his eyes and Tom had seen that many times. Most times the cell leader of the Maquis had scared the hell out of him with his ruthlessness. Chakotay had killed Cardassians in cold blood while he, Tom... Yeah, what the hell had he been doing in the Maquis? Their roles had been so different, their purpose so divergent and their cause... Chakotay had a cause. He, Tom Paris, had no cause.... Tom shook his head slightly. This was not Commander Chakotay, First Officer of Voyager, mellowed and purged mostly of all his anger by the best woman who lived and breathed on this vessel. No, this was Chakotay who never liked him for what he represented.

 

"Nothing, Chakotay. Come on, big guy, we're friends - "

 

"God, me friends with you? What cause were you fighting for? You wouldn't know a good cause if your Daddy bought you one!"

 

Tom could have decked Chakotay right there. It was uncalled for, it was wrong, but Chakotay was incensed. Chakotay was a sick man. His body was still healing and his mind... Tom knew he had an  advantage he wouldn't use. Now, Chakotay hit home at something - an old raw nerve - Tom had fought so hard to play down and forget.  The Admiral... Hell, the old man forgave him... Tom's hands went up, giving in to Chakotay just at the moment Chakotay threw a punch at him It landed against his chest.

 

But Chakotay saw nothing but a barfly, no-good, no-cause arrogant spoilt brat who joined the Maquis for the thrill of it and not because he lost his home, his life, his peace of mind; not because he killed men in cold blood and was on the run. Chakotay bristled as he spoke again, his words heated, passionate.

 

"I lost everything, Paris. Ask me about a cause, and I'll tell you what freedom is when you don't have it!" Chakotay shouted at him, about to land another punch. Tom just ducked neatly under the flailing fist, trying not to hit back when he could.

 

"For what it's worth, Chakotay, I also lost - "

 

"A home? Your homeworld? Your family? Your peaceful existence, your freedom? Tell me!"

 

"Fine! You want to hear something, Chakotay? When you say you lost your home, your family, they are gone. They're gone. In your heart you know you can't go back because they're not there. Perhaps in an odd sense you could make your peace with that. I - I wasted chances, Chakotay, and I'm not very proud of it. I lost my family, yes! I lost them and I can't go back, because for a long time I believed my father didn't love me. He hated me, I disappointed him; I failed him, I failed my mother, I was useless. My father is alive, Commander, but he's not in my life, and I want him to be so badly because I need to show him that every man deserves a chance to make good. For me, stupid Paris who is idealistic enough to believe in miracles, it means something that a man, my father is alive somewhere. It breaks me up that he doesn't want me - "

 

Tom cheeks flamed at the admission. He had spoken little of this to B'Elanna... Chakotay backed down only momentarily.

 

"I know what I fought for, Paris. Dregs like you gave the Maquis a bad name - "

 

"Then, Chakotay, I'll tell you that my life changed. Yours did too, by the way - "

 

"Care to tell me what happened, smart-ass?" Chakotay closed in again and landed another punch, but Tom blocked him and caught his wrists. Chakotay, already weakened, was getting weaker. At least, weak enough that he could hold back the big man.

 

"Love happened, Chakotay. For me, for you and for a lot of other people on this vessel," Tom bit out.

 

Chakotay stared at Tom, hard. Then he spat:

 

"No, shit happened, Paris. For me. I don't have a life, you understand me? I...don't...have...a...life...!"

 

Chakotay lunged forward and let fly with his fists. This time Tom let him land the first punch. His head snapped back, and when he came upright again, he had his fists balled.

 

"Fine, Chakotay. If this is the way you want it, let's go!"

 

"Out of my way!"

 

Chakotay was blind with fury. He saw Paris's face and wanted to whip the smirk off it. In a terrifying rage he pulled his arm back, ready to strike at Paris. Chakotay lunged, but before he could hit, a figure dipped between them. An image of Kathryn, then Paris smirked. Kathryn cried:

 

"Chakotay! What are you doing!"

 

Too late. Chakotay's fist aimed for the smirking face and he hit home. Hard.

 

"Chak - !"

 

It was not Tom Paris who fell. Everything happened so quickly that Tom couldn’t prevent Chakotay hitting out. The Captain had come between them... Shock registered on Kathryn's face and before a stunned Tom could stop the Captain from falling, she slid quietly to the floor and lay in a heap, unconscious. Already, blood started oozing from her nose.

 

"Kathryn?"

 

A distraught Chakotay bent down and touched his wife's face.

 

"Kathryn? Oh, great spirits! Kathryn.... What have I done?"

 

****  

 

END CHAPTER NINE

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

EMAIL

 

J/C FANFIC