Things Fall Apart

Summary: Voyager is not the safest place to be.

A/N: Yeah, so despite swearing off writing more Voyager fic, after re-reading my old Ayala stories I came up with this new one. It's set about seven or eight months after the events of 'Last Words' and won't be very long. Thank you to MissyHissy3 for the beta read.

Chapter One

It is astonishing how quickly things can fall apart. More than that, how often it happens. Sentient species have the habit of thinking that they're invincible. Oh, rationally they know they're mortal (as is largely the case, the Q Continuum notwithstanding) but they nonetheless behave as if they are anything but. Yet all it takes is one wrong step, one momentary lack of concentration, one ill-judged turn and – BAM!

You'd think we'd have learned by now, Mike Ayala thought, as he struggled to breathe in the restricted atmosphere. We, the crew of the lost ship Voyager, of all people. But no. We're as bad as any of them.

The Captain's voice echoed over comms for the third time in as many minutes. "All hands, brace for-"

Her command was lost beneath the shock and awe of another volley from their attackers' arsenal raking across the ship's hull. There in that corridor, Ayala had nothing to grip. The force of Voyager's skin fracturing created a concussive fist that smashed him into the bulkhead opposite. His shoulder connected hard and the next moment he was on the floor, feeling the residual judder and flinch of aftershocks through the deck. The Jeffries tube seal he'd had between his hands ricocheted first off the floor and then the ceiling, crashing its way out of his eyeline in the blinking emergency lighting of the red alert.

"Chakotay!" Ignoring the dull pain that bit his ribcage, Ayala scrambled back to his feet, crossing the shaking deck back to the Jeffries tube. His first officer and friend had been right behind him when the last blast hit. The 'lifts had been down since the attack began, the transporters not long after that. Meanwhile there had been a hull breach on deck five. Crewmembers were trapped, safe for now, but the only way to get them out was manually. Every maintenance team had been scrambled elsewhere, so Janeway sent Chakotay. Chakotay, in turn, took Ayala, probably because of the former's previous experience. Suffice it to say it wasn't the first time the two of them had crawled through a beleaguered ship in the middle of a firefight.

"Chakotay!" Ayala yelled again, coughing in the acrid aftermath of a ruptured, burning gel pack.

"Here!" came Chakotay's hoarse voice from somewhere in front of him. "Ayala, I'm-"

"All hands, brace for impact!"

Chakotay's words were lost, cut off first by the Captain's broadcasted warning and then by the violence of the enemy's fresh attack. As the furore of the latest strike died away Ayala heard a sharp, truncated movement somewhere ahead of him, followed by a muffled exclamation of pain. He grabbed the tube's emergency flashlight from its mooring and aimed the beam into a darkness that was brashly interrupted. Ahead of him, the tube's ceiling had crumpled, crushed like a discarded shirt, its once-smooth contours folding in on themselves. Now, it almost met the floor: almost, but not quite. Something had interrupted its progress. It took Ayala a moment to realise what it was.

There was a booted foot protruding from the wreckage.

"Chakotay!"

"I'm all right," came Chakotay's voice, speaking through gritted teeth. "I just can't… Argh!"

His friend's annoyance and pain filtered towards Ayala, muffled by the wall of metal between them. Mike scrambled forward on his hands and knees, knocking the flashlight along the floor in front of him as he went. When he got closer he saw that there was a narrow gap between the crushed metal and the Jeffries tube wall to his right – just enough to allow him to lie flat and wriggle forward until he was level with the trapped man.

Chakotay was lying on his back, his left leg pinioned beneath the crumpled mess of metal.

"Jesus." Mike propped himself awkwardly on one elbow and rubbed his free hand over his face, wiping away grime he hadn't even realised was there.

"Get me out of here," Chakotay said, jaw knitted hard against the pain as he tried, unsuccessfully, to shift his busted leg.

"Stay still," Mike said, before lifting his hand to hit his combadge. "Ayala to sickbay."

The EMH's answer was lost beneath the chaos of another strike. Ayala felt Voyager wheel around as three decks above them, Janeway and the bridge crew tried to shake off their attackers. There was a shudder, less brutal than the previous hits – a possible near-miss. Still, Chakotay yelled in pain as the juddering motion of the ship tore at his trapped leg.

"I can't hear you, Doc," Ayala yelled. "But I've got an injured man here. Chakotay's trapped in Jeffries tube ten, section twelve. We need you here, now!"

"That's not going to be possible, Lieutenant," came the Doctor's reply. His voice was almost drowned out by background noise – sickbay was obviously full of casualties. "My mobile emitter is not functioning. He'll have to be transported here."

"The transporters are offline," Ayala said, the cold sweat of fear beginning to clot on his skin. "His leg's stuck under a ton of metal."

"Try to remain calm, Lieutenant. Is the Commander conscious?"

Chakotay tried to lever himself off the floor. "I'm here, Doctor," he said.

"Good. Try to stay that way," the EMH ordered shortly. "Lieutenant Ayala, can you free the Commander yourself?"

"Not a chance," said Ayala.

"Is there a lot of blood?"

Ayala shifted around in the narrow space to take a look at Chakotay's crushed leg. Though he could see a little blood around the wound, it wasn't enough to pool on the floor. Yet his friend's leg was clearly bearing the full weight of the metal pressing down on it. The lieutenant was left with the distinct impression that the only reason there wasn't much blood was because the metal that had caused the injury was also compressing the wound.

"Uh, no," Mike said, nausea rising in his gut. "But something tells me there will be the minute we free him. What do we do?"

"Commander Chakotay, I need you to remain as still as possible," advised the EMH. "Lieutenant Ayala, keep him conscious and warm, understand? Help will be with you as soon as possible."

"Okay," Ayala said trying to stop his voice from shaking. "Just hurry, Doc. Hurry."

He severed the connection and struggled out of his jacket, spreading it over Chakotay's chest. "You heard the EMH," he said. "No going to sleep on me, Cap, all right?"

Chakotay gritted his teeth again. "I'll be fine," he said, "just as soon as you get me out of this damn Jeffries tube."

"The Doc will work something out. Until then, let's just-"

BAM! Another strike shook Voyager to her core. Ayala braced himself against the Jeffries tube wall so as not to slam against Chakotay.

"Ayala," Chakotay rasped, once the latest onslaught had passed. "You still have an order to follow. Get on with it. Get down to deck five, find a way to open that emergency bulkhead."

"And leave you here on your own?" Ayala said. "No chance. I'll report to the Captain, tell her what's going on and she'll-"

Chakotay grabbed his arm as Ayala reached for his combadge. "Don't. You're two decks away and we've already been delayed. There's no time to send anyone else. Go."

"Chakotay-"

"Don't make me order you, Lieutenant," the first officer said, through gritted teeth. "There are thirty crew members trapped down there. They need you. Just do it."

"All right. All right. I'll go. Just – stay awake, okay?"

Chakotay made the brief approximation of a smile, which was quickly eliminated by a fresh burst of pain as the ship shuddered anew. "Trust me," he muttered, "I'm not in any danger of dozing off."

Ayala nodded and began to back out of the space. "I'll hold you to that, Cap," he said. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Mike," Chakotay added, suddenly, levering himself up. "Don't report this to the Captain. There's nothing she can do and she's got enough to occupy her already. Just get the job done. Got it?"

Ayala frowned, but nodded. "Got it. Don't go anywhere."

"Funny, Ayala," he heard Chakotay mutter as he lay back down again. "You're a funny, funny man."

[TBC]