GRAVITAS

Title: Gravitas, 9/26
Author: Jaye (Copyright August 2002)
Codes: VOY/TNG/DS9 Many Pairings NC-17

Disclaimer: Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property 
of Paramount. Gladiator belongs to Dreamworks SKG and Universal. No infringement 
is intended or profit made. This is NC-17 for adult themes, violence and sex. If 
you aren't interested (or aren't old enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a note first so I know where it's going. Please keep the text 
(especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure but be kind, or at least constructive. E-mail is 
reader8901@fastmail.fm

Summary: Treachery raises the stakes and changes lives when the leader of the 
Terran Empire seeks to restore the Federation.

Note: Very AU, as this is basically the plot of the film "Gladiator" set in a 
Star Trek universe. Some scenes and dialogue closely mirror the film (though 
it's starting to drift away from the exact plot). No Maquis, no Delta Quadrant, 
etc. This is my response to Polly's Cha!Club challenge about movies. Sisko is 
older here than in canon.

***************

CHAPTER NINE

"What do you mean, there's no record of him?" Jake Sisko leaned over his fellow 
researcher's shoulder, staring at the computer screen.

"I'm telling you, Jake, there's nothing here. Not one iota of data. Not a single 
reference in the whole freakin' database." Billy Telfer flung himself back in 
his chair in frustration. "It's like the entire Empire was wiped clean of his 
name."

"But that's impossible!" Jake dropped into his own seat, his expressive hands 
waving his disbelief. "He's been around for what, 15 years?"

"17" came the automatic correction.

"And he's been the Admiral of the entire Imperial Fleet for almost two years. 
Heck, people remember his name because it wasn't until he took command that we 
actually started winning against the Dominion." Jake rested his elbows on the 
desk. "How can all that just disappear?"

Telfer shrugged. "What I want to know is how *he* disappeared. If I remember it 
right, he dropped out of the dispatches at about the same time Jean-Luc Picard 
died." His gaze grew speculative. "I wonder if there's a connection."

"All I know is I can't even begin to gather some facts for the senior reporters 
if there's no research to be had." Jake hunched over his hands morosely. "I was 
hoping I could find a hook for a story assignment of my own."

"Ah, ever the aspiring writer," Billy teased his ambitious friend, then 
relented. "Why don't we pay a visit to the Mouse? Maybe he can dig something up 
for you."

Jake rolled his eyes. "All we'll get from him is another conspiracy theory."

Billy shrugged. "In this case, a wide-flung, nefarious plot doesn't sound all 
that far-fetched."

The other man nodded and they rose, stretching their long frames. The two 
Imperial News Network employees crossed the large, bustling room, dodging 
graphics personnel dashing around with data crystals. Veteran scribes were 
busily typing out commentary for the striking, incredible footage of gladiators 
united in combat. And the riveting moment when Chakotay of Dorvan V revealed his 
identity.

***************

Mortimer Harren, aka the Mouse, worked in the dim warren of cubicles in the 
basement of the building. He and his colleagues kept the computer networks 
operating and secure. Mortimer was intrigued by the idea of patterns. He spent a 
lot of his time creating very odd programs to do things like search for changes 
in coffee consumption based on the weather on various areas of Earth. He was 
considered interesting, but a bit odd. Most people didn't mind that though, 
since his theories were so entertaining.

Jake and Billy walked into his office to find Mortimer absorbed in a project. 
"Hey Mort," Billy said lazily as he pulled up a chair to straddle. "Whatcha 
workin' on?"

Mortimer barely spared the time to shoot an irritated glance at the disturbance. 
"I'm trying to reconstruct our files on Admiral Chakotay. It looks like someone 
slipped a very powerful virus into our network. It got past all of our filters 
and safeguards."

His brow knit. "All of *my* protections too. I want to find out how that 
happened and what was so important about one military record that it warranted 
total eradication." He flashed a look at his friend. "And when I know how, I bet 
who will fall right into my lap."

Jake perched on the arm of another chair. "That's great, Mort. Could you let me 
know if you find anything? I'm supposed to send some facts up to the main desk 
for a batch of articles."

Mortimer grinned. "And you want to scope out a unique angle to snag a story of 
your own?"

Jake groaned as the other two laughed.

"Hey Mort," Billy asked, "why are you started on this already? Did somebody 
already tip you off?"

"I asked him to," came a soft voice behind them. Science writer Noah Lessing had 
just walked in, accompanied by one of Mortimer's coworkers, Celes Tal. He moved 
forward and handed Mortimer a mug. Then the tall man folded himself into another 
chair. Tal perched on her desk.

"You see," Noah said, "Admiral Chakotay saved my life a few years ago. I didn't 
like the idea of people forgetting about him, so I asked Mort to do some 
digging."

"He did? How?" Jake leaned forward, intrigued.

Noah settled back into his seat. "I was a Lieutenant on Voyager, usually worked 
at Ops or Stellar Cartography. Chakotay was still a Captain back then, but we 
all knew where he was heading." He smiled in memory. "You'd never know to look 
at him that the Cap was pretty much second in command of the Fleet. He could 
replace conduits and haul boxes with the best of them. And he was 
so...approachable, you know? Anyway, one time we were ambushed by some 
Cardassian ships. We were way outnumbered but the Cap managed to knock them out 
and get us away. Ship was pretty badly shot up, though."

He sighed and shifted. "I was helping Engineering make some repairs. All of a 
sudden there was an overload in the Jeffries tube where I was working. Place 
filled with fire and smoke. Something glitched in the computer and the hatches 
began sealing automatically. I was barely ahead of them, and I couldn't call for 
help since the comm was down."

He shook his head, light gleaming off his shaved pate. "I was crawling as fast 
as I could but I could see the hatch to the corridor starting to close. Between 
the exit and me was a sparking, burning broken conduit. I knew that I couldn't 
reach the controls and I'd be locked in there to either burn or smother to 
death. I shouted---to this day I don't know why---and suddenly the door stopped 
closing. After a moment a silhouette appeared. It was Chakotay. He had used 
something to brace the hatch open and he was coming to help me."

Noah's dark eyes held his enthralled audience. "The manual control to switch off 
the power was right under that burning conduit. I couldn't get to it at all. I 
figured the Cap couldn't either. I was all ready to tell him to get the hell out 
when he took a deep breath and dove through the fire, slapping the power off as 
he passed. We beat out the flames on his uniform, then crawled out and headed 
straight to Sickbay. He lost his entire sleeve, and he had a wicked burn down 
his arm. I had smoke inhalation. I figured I could live with that, considering I 
should have been dead."

"Is that when you resigned?" That question came from Tal.

"Yeah, pretty soon afterward. I just couldn't handle the idea of entering those 
tubes again." He shrugged. "You can't serve on a ship with that kind of fear. So 
I cashed out as soon as I could. I told the Cap in person. He was cool about it. 
Said he hated to lose me but understood."

"Damn," Jake breathed, "that's quite a story. No wonder you set Mort on the 
trail."

"Yeah," Noah agreed, "Chakotay doesn't deserve to be erased." His face hardened. 
"Or turned into a slave."

"I wonder what happened to him," Billy mused.

"I don't know," Tal said as she returned to her seat. "But Admiral Chakotay 
saved Bajor from the Dominion, so count me in to help find out."

Suddenly a voice sounded over the comm. "Jake Sisko, report to the Managing 
Editor's office. Jake Sisko, report to the Managing Editor's office."

"Duty calls," Jake said as he rose. "Good luck, guys."

The quartet waved him off and soon became absorbed in their work.

***************

While news of the events at the Colosseum swept across the Empire, things were 
pretty much business as usual at Sisko's compound. His gladiators had been 
healed, cleaned up and attired in fresh tunics. Now they sat with the others in 
the training areas, dining al fresco.

B'Elanna and Tuvok had already received their meals and were busily eating. The 
half-Klingon was pausing between bites to fire questions at her suddenly famous 
teammate. "So, you were an admiral?" she checked after swallowing a chunk of 
beef.

"I was *the* Admiral," Chakotay confirmed quietly.

"And you fought in many battles?"

"Over the years, yes."

Her snapping eyes narrowed. "Against Klingons?"

Chakotay shrugged. He refused to lie, even if it earned him B'Elanna's wrath. 
"When they gave me no choice."

B'Elanna looked at him for a long moment, then nodded and went back to her meal.

"Admiral, your food is ready." The cook, whose kitchen had a long serving window 
like an old-fashioned take-out stand, held out a plate. All eyes followed the 
former officer as he crossed and accepted the vegetable stew. He ignored the 
scrutiny as he always had and made his way back to his companions.

Chakotay forked up a bite, but paused before it reached his lips. His brow 
furrowed as he regarded the innocuous-looking mixture.

Tuvok assured him, "The people of the Empire know who you are now, Chakotay. And 
they're beginning to remember what you meant to them. The Emperor cannot kill 
you secretly anymore. He must be careful in his arrangements so he is above 
suspicion."

Chakotay continued to stare at his plate, remembering what happened to Jean-Luc.

B'Elanna snorted and dug her utensil into the mass of vegetables and grains. She 
opened her mouth wide, shoveled in the food and ostentatiously chewed and 
swallowed. A few seconds later she started making strange noises as her jaw 
worked. Her hand flew to her throat and her eyes bugged.

Chakotay and Tuvok leaned forward, ready to rush for aid. Suddenly she grinned 
at them, enjoying their panic at her joke.

Chakotay snorted as the other gladiators nearby chuckled and shook his head, 
then began to eat.

***************

Tom nervously entered Julian's suite, uncertain of his leader's temper. He was 
surprised to see the Emperor calmly seated at his desk, reading reports. He 
cleared his throat. "Hello sire, I simply wanted to check on you after such 
an...unusual day."

Julian felt perfectly calm. He had made his plans and dispatched his minions to 
carry them out. Now all he had to do was wait. He stared at his brother-in-law a 
moment, then pointedly stated, "You know I did what I had to."

"Yes, sire." Tom kept his expression neutral.

"If Father's plan had succeeded the Empire would have been thrown into chaos and 
ruin." Julian's tone brooked no argument, not that Tom would dare offer one. 
"And *Chakotay* was nothing more than Jean-Luc's lapdog," Julian gritted. "He 
had to be put down."

Suddenly Julian stood and moved nose to nose with Tom, his eyes fierce. "You do 
understand, don't you? There was nothing else to be done."

"Yes, sire," Tom answered firmly.

Julian whirled again, pacing. "He shouldn't be alive. It angers me, that my 
orders were not carried out. The Guard must be taught to obey." He paused and 
looked over his shoulder at the younger man, keen eyes watching for a reaction 
as he asked, "What did you feel, when you saw Chakotay again?"

Tom's face stayed frozen as he automatically replied, "I felt nothing."

Black brows rose. "That wouldn't have been true, once upon a time."

Tom shrugged. "That was ten years ago, when hormones were raging and 
my...place...not so clear." He held his breath, willing Julian to believe the 
lie.

The Emperor nodded, satisfied by the response. He strode to the desk and picked 
up a padd. He began, "I've been meaning to ask you about this plan for..."

Tom breathed again, then quickly took his position at Julian's elbow.

***************

Benjamin Sisko sat in front of the comm panel deleting message after message 
from media services. He had no intention of letting those vultures swarm his 
compound, flapping and snapping at each other as they squawked their questions.

He paused as he read the name of the next supplicant. His expression grew 
thoughtful as he settled more deeply into his chair and pushed the button to 
play this missive.

"Hi, Dad." Jake Sisko looked ill-at-ease as he shifted, then lifted his eyes to 
face the screen. "I know we haven't spoken in a while, but---" the young man 
gave a sudden, explosive sigh. "Shit, forget this. The network's Managing 
Editor---the big boss---is making me ask for an exclusive. With you, and Admiral 
Chakotay, and any of your other fighters who have a story."

Sisko watched his son run a hand over his close-cropped hair. "But I don't care 
about this assignment, Dad. Not if you're going to think it's the only reason I 
called." His gaze grew accusing, "I found out you're here---with the Admiral---
from one of INN's sources. Why didn't you tell me you had come to Earth?"

After a hard stare that Sisko was glad he hadn't been available to witness for 
real, Jake slumped. "I just want to see you, Dad, or talk to you. Please, 
contact me." The message abruptly cut off.

Sisko played the recording one more time, then sat in front of the blank screen 
for a while, lost in memories.

Eventually he straightened, decision made, and moved to the next message in the 
queue.

************************************************************

Chakotay was still awake, listening to the faint murmur of the city that didn't 
sleep even in the dead of night. So he easily heard the tramp of boots echoing 
in the corridor. He leapt to his feet, wondering if he would soon be fighting 
for his life.

Instead, the door opened and low lights slapped on. Gladiators stirred, awakened 
by the disturbance.

"You, Admiral," a guard called, "Come here."

Sharing a glance with a newly conscious Tuvok, Chakotay relaxed and made his way 
to the man who summoned him. He stepped into the hallway and was quickly 
surrounded by a quartet of Sisko's men armed with phasers. He quietly 
accompanied them down the corridor to a separate room near the exit to the 
building.

The door opened and he was gestured inside. The moment he was past the portal 
his arms were seized. He resisted the instinctive urge to struggle and allowed 
himself to be dragged toward a corner. Once there, he was spun and his wrists 
shackled to two chains set in the wall at waist level.

His jaw clenched as he spied a cloaked figure on the other side of the room. 
B'Elanna had told him Sisko never had sex with his gladiators; nor did he sell 
their favors as other owners did. Apparently she was wrong. His chin lifted. 
Whoever had bought his services would not be getting their money's worth.

When the guards left the swathed form stirred. A pale hand lifted to slide back 
the cowl as a familiar voice drawled, "I don't know what Sisko paid for you, but 
he certainly made his money back in what he charged me to be pleasured by the 
star gladiator of the Colosseum."

The second those blue eyes appeared Chakotay lunged, only to be brought up 
short, his arms held back by the chains. In a cold voice he sneered, "I knew 
Julian would send assassins. But I never expected he would send his best."

"He doesn't know I'm here, Chakotay." Tom looked wounded. "You know I'd never 
hurt you."

Chakotay said nothing, merely raised a brow as his eyes swept contemptuously up 
and down Tom's form. He stalked back to his corner, then whirled. "Just like you 
didn't know my entire family was marked for death the night Julian murdered 
Jean-Luc?"

"I swear to you, I didn't know." Tom strode up to the silent, stiff figure, 
determined to convince him. "You have to believe me."

Suddenly a strong bronze hand whipped out and grabbed Tom, squeezing his throat. 
The younger man trembled at the icy rage in the dark eyes.

"You forget, Tom, I was there. I saw you with him and Ayala." Chakotay resisted 
the urge to break the younger man's neck as the anguished memories swept over 
him. "They killed everyone in the village. They were all innocent." His grip 
tightened. "My son was innocent."

"So is mine!" Tom wanted to shout but could only whisper.

Chakotay stared at him a moment and knew that he couldn't kill Lucien's father. 
He flung the tall figure away as if he couldn't bear to have Tom near him.

Rubbing his sore throat, Tom stumbled to his feet. "Julian never gave an order 
that I heard, Chakotay, I swear it. And I have been living with that black-
hearted snake every day since Jean-Luc died. Unable to mourn him, or you." Tom 
looked away a moment, struggling for control. He asked in despair, "Must my son 
die too before you'll trust me?"

Chakotay nearly snorted but didn't. He leaned back against the wall. "Why should 
it matter if I trust you or not?"

"Because you're the key to everything, Chakotay." Tom spread his hands. "Didn't 
you see what happened in the arena today? I did. I saw a gladiator become more 
powerful than the Emperor."

A sharp, disbelieving bark of laughter greeted Tom's claim. "I am a *slave*, or 
hadn't you noticed?" Chakotay's lip curled. "The only power I have is to amuse a 
mob."

"That *is* power," Tom insisted. "The mob is the Empire. Whoever controls it 
holds the destiny of us all. Julian knows it, that's why he fears you. The 
Emperor only reigns so long as he controls the Fleet and the Guard. Both of 
*them* can be made to bow to the will of the people."

Tom stepped forward, determined to make his point. "Julian has many enemies, 
especially in the Council. But they aren't able to stand up to him---you already 
have."

"So they oppose Julian but do nothing?" Chakotay's scorn was clear.

"Some of them have spoken out...one person in particular." Tom reached out, his 
face filled with hope. "If I arrange it, will you meet with her?"

Chakotay slid away from the pale outstretched fingers, his face set like stone. 
"You refuse to understand. I am a slave. Nothing more. I could die in this 
compound tonight or in the arena tomorrow. What possible difference can I make?"

"This woman wants what you want," Tom insisted.

"Then let *her* kill Julian." Chakotay knew he had no heart left to open to this 
man who had once held a significant piece of it, along with a portion of his 
soul. Both had been blasted away by the phasers that struck Dorvan V. "Yesterday 
your plans didn't include me. Today should be no different."

Tom dropped his arm, defeated. "I knew a man once," he said, eyes boring into 
Chakotay's. "A man of honor and principle, who loved Jean-Luc Picard and was 
loved as a son in return. That man served the Empire, and we were all the better 
for it."

Chakotay's harsh expression matched his tone. "That man is dead. Your Emperor 
did his work well."

Unable to resist, Tom stepped forward, laying a hand on one stiff shoulder. "Let 
me help you," he implored in a whisper.

"Yes, you can help me," Chakotay answered quietly. "Forget I ever existed. Never 
come here again."

He moved away from Tom, calling "Guard! The...gentleman...is finished with me."

One guard entered, unlocked the chains and led the slave back to the other three 
members of the escort to the sleeping area. Chakotay never looked back.

Tom stood a moment, calming his ragged breath and churning emotions. Then his 
shoulders straightened and he swept from the room.

***************

Sisko was lounging on a settee eating grapes when his wealthy visitor was 
ushered back into his presence. He took in the blond's clenched jaw and stiff 
shoulders and drawled, "No refund. I warned you he wouldn't be receptive to your 
charms."

Tom's eyes flashed for a moment as he considered taking out his anger on the man 
who dared own Chakotay, but kept his temper in check. "I'm not here to demand my 
money back. I'd like to make you another offer."

Sisko raised a brow and waited.

"You know who I am," Tom said matter-of-factly, "so you know what kind of 
resources I have access to. I'd like to send a team to increase the security 
here, and to install some anti-monitoring devices."

Dark eyes narrowed. "And how much would that cost me?"

"Nothing."

Sisko laughed and waved his arm as if shooing away concerns. "So you're just 
going to provide some very expert services out of the goodness of your heart?" 
His face lost its jovial mask. "That's a little too generous, my Imperial 
friend. You make me wonder if I should break my other rule and have our luscious 
gladiator delivered to my bed. Obviously the Admiral did *something* to inspire 
such largesse."

Tom bit back his instinctive response. He knew the wily entrepreneur was baiting 
him. "Chakotay has enemies, and right now he's not able to defend himself. 
Keeping him safe---" Tom couldn't resist the jibe "---so he can risk his life in 
the arena for your profit is in *your* best interest. I'm giving you a way to do 
that at no cost to yourself." The blue eyes were steady as they gazed upon 
Sisko. "What's your answer?"

Sisko considered the offer. He sensed the danger the Dorvan was in, as well as 
Paris's sincerity in wanting him safe. In the end the chance for free services 
decided him. "Very well. Bring them back here in an hour with the proper 
credentials and identification."

"I---I can't have them directly associated with me. It would be too dangerous. 
But their identities can be confirmed via the Imperial database."

"Very well." Sisko stood and escorted the cloaked man to the small transporter 
alcove. He watched Paris pull out and tap on a small device, obviously some kind 
of computer. "What are their names?" he asked.

Tom looked up just as he was about to transport. "Reginald Barclay and Marla 
Gilmore."

Sisko made a mental note of the names, then returned to his settee to wait, very 
pleased with himself and the universe.

***************

Tom reappeared in his son's closet, which was actually a fair-sized dressing 
room. He quickly shed the cloak and buried it in Lucien's pile of "costumes"---
cast-off clothing the boy used when pretending to be a pirate, or spaceship 
captain, or hero of old. Tom slipped out to see his son still sleeping, and Tem 
in a chair nearby nervously watching a small screen in his lap.

"Did anyone come looking for me?" Tom asked anxiously.

"No, sir, it's been quiet." Tem stood and switched the sensor net's monitor off 
with relief. "If there's nothing else?" he asked hopefully. The Bajoran was 
grateful that Thomas Paris had rescued him from slavery and actually hired him 
to attend Lucien. But all of this cloak-and-dagger skulking about and stealth 
technology was unnerving.

Tom smiled sadly; he knew his young servant preferred a less dangerous life. He 
appreciated that despite Tem's fears he hadn't abandoned them to return to 
Bajor, even though he was free to do so. "I'm sorry, Tem, but there's one more 
thing I need you to do. You know where Reg Barclay lives?" He waited for a nod, 
then walked over to Lucien's desk and hastily wrote a letter on real paper. He 
folded it and handed it to the younger man. "Please take this message to him 
right away. It's extremely urgent."

Tem sighed and accepted the note. He knew Tom wouldn't ask if it weren't vitally 
important. "All right. Front exit, back door or hidden passage?"

"Hidden passage," Tom confirmed. "No one can know. And thank you."

Tem just nodded and slipped away on his errand.

Tom crossed to Lucien's bed. He sat beside his son and just stared into the 
boy's face, releasing the iron hold on his emotions. The feelings swelled, 
jumbling together into a tangled, aching mass.

When he first saw Chakotay in the flesh he'd been stunned by the dual slam of 
love and lust through his own body. He'd felt driven to tenderly embrace his 
love and at the same time passionately kiss the lover he'd only had in dreams. 
It hadn't helped that Chakotay's tunic, which left exquisitely muscled arms and 
calves bare, sparked his imagination. His wicked thoughts included sinking to 
his knees and finding out what prize awaited him under the edge of the flowing 
blue cloth.

But then he'd looked into Chakotay's face and saw the changes in the man. Those 
dark brown eyes had always been open to him, warm and soft and honest in their 
passion or pain. Now they were closed and cold. But even Chakotay couldn't hide 
their sorrow.

Tom ached for Chakotay. He reached out a hand to adjust Lucien's blanket. He 
couldn't imagine having his son ripped from his arms, brutally murdered. Add to 
that wife, family, tribe, village---everything and everyone utterly destroyed. 
He didn't know how Chakotay had stayed sane under such a burden of grief.

On top of that Chakotay was sold into slavery and forced to fight for his very 
life. It was a brutal, bloody existence that left its mark upon the soul.

Tom's lips twisted. Of course the circumstances of their meeting were less than 
ideal as well. To be dragged from your bed and chained to a wall---and then be 
set face to face with someone you believe betrayed you in every possible way. 
Tom knew how damning his presence at Julian's side appeared. No wonder Chakotay 
couldn't find it in his heart to trust Tom.

Lucien murmured and Tom automatically stroked his brow soothingly. He frowned, 
suddenly remembering that the tattoo was gone from Chakotay's face. That did not 
bode well for the other man's state of mind. He hadn't noticed before in the 
shock of Chakotay's disbelieving expression.

Tom lost himself in memories a moment, wondering if he'd ever see Chakotay's 
stunning dimpled smile again. His own face filled with determination. His 
actions tonight would help keep Chakotay safe, at least outside of the 
Colosseum. That bought both of them some time. For now it would have to be 
enough.

***************

Will Riker frowned, snuggling closer to the body in bed beside him. The sound 
disturbing his sleep became clear a moment later when the comm unit beeped 
again. He rose with a low growl, wondering who had dared ignore his orders to be 
left alone. A quick glance told him his companion hadn't wakened, so he stalked 
to the small desk, dragging on a robe as he went. He plopped down in the chair, 
thinking the hotel manager would receive a scathing complaint in the morning. He 
wouldn't use this establishment the next time he was on Risa, that was for sure.

One finger forcefully stabbed the appropriate button. "Riker," he barked.

"I---I'm sorry to bother you during leave, Captain, but it's very important and 
I knew you wouldn't be watching the news feeds." Harry Kim's face filled the 
screen with excitement and anxiety. "Sir, Admiral Chakotay's alive!"

"What?" Will's jaw dropped and his eyes widened, stunned. His face filled with 
hope as he leaned forward. "Where? How? What the hell happened to him? When can 
he retake command?"

Harry's shoulders slumped with relief. He'd taken a big risk, not knowing if 
Capt. Riker was involved in the original plot. The man's obvious joy at the news 
dispelled his fears. "He's on Earth, sir. He's a slave, a gladiator fighting in 
the Colosseum. I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't seen it with my 
own eyes." He met his CO's gaze. "We have to do something, sir."

Will's hand automatically rose to stroke his beard as his brows lowered in 
thought. "Tell the crew to make their way to the Sol system but then sit tight. 
Don't do anything, don't say anything until I can get there and figure out 
what's going on." At Harry's crisp nod Will smiled. He too felt more alive than 
he had since the day Jean-Luc Picard died. "We'll get him back, Harry."

Harry felt his own lips curve, prompted by the other man's excited grin. "I 
never doubted it, Captain. I'll pass the word and wait for your orders." He 
pushed a button and the screen went black. He stood up, feeling more himself 
than he had in months.

***************

Will stared at his faint reflection in the darkened comm. Then another figure 
appeared, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I take it your resignation has been put on hold?" Deanna Troi asked. 
Ironically, it wasn't the noise that woke her. It was the surge of joy and hope 
from her Imzadi. A few months ago when they'd rendezvoused for the first time 
since the Emperor's death she'd been shocked at how...diminished Will had 
seemed. As he told her about the loss of not only his revered leader but also 
his dear friend and respected CO, she'd soothed him through that first harsh 
bout of grief.

They met as they always had since then, but he never seemed to entirely shed 
that darkness in his soul. Until now.

Large hands clasped her own. "I'm sorry, Deanna. I know I'm the one who 
suggested I retire to Betazed so we could get married. There was nothing left 
for me in the Fleet so there was no reason to worry about the stigma of marrying 
a member of a 'lesser species'." His curled lip showed what he thought about 
that ridiculous notion.

Will stood and turned, encircling his love about the waist. His eyes begged for 
understanding. "But now the situation has changed. Chakotay is still alive. And 
I can't help him as a civilian."

Deanna smiled softly, pleased to see her beloved back to the man he should be. 
"But as a Captain with an Imperial flagship at his disposal...?" she trailed 
off, knowing that their connection made her understanding and approval clear.

Will closed his eyes and held Deanna, resting his head a moment on her shoulder. 
"Thank you," he said. As he pulled back, he turned and opened a drawer in the 
desk. He pulled out a small box and opened it, revealing an antique diamond 
ring. "I was going to give you this in a few days. This ring has been passed 
down through my family for generations. I know that we've kept our relationship 
hidden, but I don't want to do that anymore." He removed the glittering object 
from its velvet nest and slipped it on Deanna's hand. He kissed her fingers then 
lowered them, stroking her skin with his thumb.

Deanna swallowed and lifted a hand to Will's face. "I love you," she said 
quietly. "And I know this is what you have to do. I'll be waiting for you to 
send for me or come to Betazed."

"Deanna, I don't understand what's going on yet." He hesitated. "And I don't 
know exactly what will happen. But I promise I'll keep in touch."

"Promise me you'll keep yourself safe," Deanna replied, gripping his fingers, 
"And that you'll return to me."

"Yes," Will said, and they embraced once more.

***************

Reg Barclay's nervous fingers slipped on the instrument he was holding. The 
small tool clattered to the floor along with the sensor unit he'd been securing 
to the wall. "Oh, damn," he muttered, then pressed a hand to his forehead.

He'd been jittery since they arrived at Benjamin Sisko's compound. Tom Paris had 
sent a note promising payment for a bunch of sophisticated equipment to be 
installed immediately at the San Francisco address.

Despite the late hour, there'd been no question of refusing. In truth, Reg 
didn't care if the bill ever got paid. He already owed both Chakotay and Tom a 
debt of gratitude.

Reg was a technical genius, a wizard with machinery, but his social skills were 
sorely lacking. Despite that, he'd gotten through the Academy. Admiral Chakotay-
--who back when they met was only a Commmander---had started out just trying to 
help him fit in among the crew at Reg's first posting. But after taking the time 
to get to know Reg he noticed the engineer's talents and asked him if he'd like 
a transfer to Research & Development on Earth. When Reg finally convinced 
himself to take the chance, Chakotay personally made sure Reg was awarded a 
place in the Empire's corps of cutting-edge technicians.

It had felt like coming home. He missed Chakotay, whose easygoing nature seemed 
to dispel his own jitters, but nothing could compare with this new life. Talking 
theories and building them into reality every day with like-minded people was a 
joy he never expected.

Even more amazing had been meeting his colleague, Marla Gilmore. The equally shy 
engineer had sparked a sense of protectiveness in Reg. Strangely, he was so 
focused on making her feel at ease that he forgot his own nervousness. They had 
eventually gone from working lunches to real dates to a surprisingly passionate 
affair to a happy marriage. Chakotay had kept in touch over the years but hadn't 
been able to attend the wedding. His simply beautiful handwritten letter of 
congratulation was framed on their wall at home.

Reg and Marla clicked as well at work as they did in their private lives. Their 
collaborations produced many innovative designs. The dampening drones used to 
defeat the Dominion were their crowning achievement.

Their charmed life had continued until the day Jean-Luc Picard died. The new 
Emperor, Julian, had soon after fired a number of Fleet personnel with no 
warning or explanation. Reg had sent a call for help to Chakotay, but never 
received a reply. Marla and many others had resigned in protest of the firings, 
so the two were now tossed out into the real world.

Enter Tom Paris. At the time, neither Reg nor Marla had recognized the stranger 
who had called with the proposal to set them up in a business of their own. The 
man had offered a loan at very good terms, and a flat-out no-strings donation as 
well.

They thought the proposition was too good to be true. Their suspicions rose even 
higher when they saw footage of Tom standing beside the man who'd discharged Reg 
for no good reason. But they did agree to meet one last time.

That was when Tom had begged them to help him keep his son safe. He wanted them 
to design a warning system so he would know if anyone was monitoring his rooms 
or tracking him. He also needed a secure comm system and a way to transport in 
and out of the palace without being detected.

The information dropped their jaws and earned their sympathy, but it was Tom's 
next revelation that clinched the deal. He said he had chosen Reg and Marla 
because he knew Chakotay had trusted them. Then he told them that Chakotay was 
dead at the new Emperor's order.

Marla and he didn't even need to discuss it. They'd done exactly as Tom asked.

Their business was flourishing as they enhanced security systems for a number of 
Council members as well as various firms and ordinary citizens. They also kept 
up their tinkering, gaining several patents for new technology.

They'd been stunned to see news reports of Chakotay fighting in the Colosseum. 
So when Tom's note asked them to enhance the protections around the compound 
where their longtime friend was being held, they immediately assembled their 
kits and beamed over.

Reg suddenly felt hands kneading his shoulders.

"Easy, honey," Marla soothed as she tried to massage away the tension wracking 
her husband's body. "There's no rush."

Reg looked up and smiled, some of his nervousness bleeding away at the touch. "I 
just want to get it right, Marla. If Chakotay really is a target---"

"I know, I'm just as worried as you are. But twisting yourself into knots is 
going to distract you and we could miss something."

Reg shook his head. "Not with the way you organize our checklists."

Marla smiled. She always felt a glow when Reg complimented her. Then she frowned 
as she glanced down the hall of the dorm. "I wish we could get in to see 
Chakotay. I'd like to make sure he's okay."

"Yes," Reg nodded toward the guards blocking the door to the slaves. "We could 
have injected him with a transponder or something and beamed him right out from 
under the forcefields." He sighed. "Instead, we're strengthening the fields so 
nobody else can beam him out."

"Or beam an assassin in." Marla stooped to pick up the tumbled wall unit and 
held it in place as Reg secured it. She looked at her husband. "For now, it's 
the best we can do."

He nodded and they both stood, hefting their toolkits. "Where to next?" he 
asked, and they continued reluctantly reinforcing Chakotay's prison.

***************

Chakotay lay in his cot, staring up at the ceiling. He winced as his mind 
replayed the conversation between himself and Tom. He just hoped he'd been 
convincing enough at the end to keep the younger man away.

In the first moments of their meeting, Chakotay's rage had swamped all reason. 
He'd automatically struck out at Tom for being one of the trio he believed had 
destroyed his life.

A good look had soon convinced him of Tom's innocence. And with the cooling of 
his anger, all of his old protective instincts had risen. So he'd been cruel to 
be kind, to convince Tom it was useless to continue to see him. Tom's visit to 
the compound had been an unacceptable risk.

Julian Bashir Picard was possibly insane, but no fool. He would keep tabs on 
those in his service, including his brother-in-law. Eventually something would 
slip and Julian would crush Tom as he had Chakotay.

A sigh of regret forced its way past Chakotay's lips. He had to forget about 
Tom. He'd even given up any hopes of fulfilling Jean-Luc's dream of a restored 
Federation. And Chakotay had no illusions about the odds of his own survival.

He was a walking, talking dead man. That much was certain. The best he could 
hope for was to stay alive long enough to rid the Empire of Julian Bashir 
Picard. It was the last, the only thing he could do now to save his people...his 
friends...and the man he once loved.

TBC