Disclaimer: Paramount owns all the characters, I'm just taking them and as much as I hope that it's where no one has gone before I really don't think I've managed to escape any of the clichés.

Author's Note: I'm back! I do apologize for my absence – things got so hectic and once I stopped writing it just seemed so difficult to come back to it, but yesterday I found my notes for this story in one of my old textbooks and pretty soon I'd abandoned all thoughts of studying in favour of writing Chapter 4. I won't be able to procrastinate like this very often, but with good time management (which I'm sure you've guessed that I suck at) I'm going to strive to post a new chapter every other week at least, if not weekly. By hook or by crook, I WILL finish this story! I should warn you however, that in the two years I've been inactive, I haven't written any fiction at all and I found everything difficult, so apologies if this is a little dry, but as usual, all reviews and constructive criticism are welcome and I hope you enjoy!

Chakotay felt Seven's fingers brush tentatively against his and in response he sought the warmth of her flesh in the gaping holes between the metal implants that still encased her left hand. As he studied her as they walked in companionable silence, he marvelled at how he had come to care so deeply for the woman he had once tried to convince Kathryn to abandon. In the few months they had been together, Chakotay had quickly learnt that under the former Borg's cold exterior lay a delicate woman, one that lay well-masked beneath layers of indifference and an almost arrogant confidence for fear that it was a weakness that would betray her. It was the glimpses into the softer side of her personality that had first drawn Chakotay to her. Sure, he had been charmed by it, but he also felt honoured, privileged and even a little responsible now that she had entrusted him with her vulnerabilities. In turn, he felt committed to showing her that she could be both strong and independent without sacrificing her emotions and small gestures such as these that showed he was beginning to make progress. Of course, he rationalised, his work would be much easier if the callous Kathryn Janeway had not, for so long, been her only mentor and confidant.

Immediately Chakotay chided himself for his spitefulness. He knew that much of his resentment towards Kathryn stemmed from the fact that it was their relationship which had suffered as a consequence of her steely belief that she had to be the cold, hard and determined 'Captain' if the ship and its crew were to survive the Delta Quadrant. He also knew however, that she had simply been doing what she thought was best for them all. He had likened his role on Voyager to being a mere cog in a well-oiled machine that was united in its goal to survive, whereas Kathryn had felt that it was her responsibility and hers alone to feed 146 mouths and sustain 146 lives and that the immensity of her task meant that she could not indulge in anything that would distract her from it.

He glanced back at the vacant balcony where only moments ago he had stood face to face with Kathryn. Their interrupted conversation had left him feeling unsettled and leaving with Seven on his arm, he had wilfully fought the overwhelming urge to seek her out and convince her once and for all that the whole damned thing was not her fault. Instead, he had convinced Seven to take a midnight stroll in the hotel's expansive gardens before retiring to their suites in the hope that it would help him wind down and centre himself after an emotionally charged evening. Of course, if they happened to bump into Kathryn once more, that would only be an added bonus, he reasoned, refusing to acknowledge his true motives for the walk. He contemplated how could make Kathryn see that although there had been pain and heartache, there wasn't a single member of Voyager's crew who would go back to do it any differently. Let go, Kathryn, he urged the thought into the night's sky, hoping it would find its way to her, let it all go. Bring back the Kathryn who once laughed with abandoned and indulged in flirtatious banter unhesitatingly.

Unhesitatingly...? He mulled over his peculiar choice of words – Hesitant? Why would Kathryn have been hesitant to indulge in flirtatious behaviour?

He paused mid-stride as the revelation threatened to overwhelm him. Of course, how could he have been so blind? He was the catalyst for Kathryn's withdrawal. He had read every quip and touch that Kathryn exchanged with him as a prelude to something more, something she could not give him. Every time Kathryn, the woman, made an appearance, he had pressed, albeit gently, for some semblance of a deeper relationship, despite the parameters she had painstakingly defined and eventually it was simply easier and – if what she had implied in the shuttle was true and she really had felt the same way about him – less hurtful, to closet Kathryn away and become 'The Captain'.

"Chakotay?" Seven was looking at him expectantly and somewhat impatiently. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, I – uh..."

He saw a blaze of light before he heard it, but the explosion only registered when the tremors threw him into a neatly-trimmed hedge. He turned back towards the ballroom just in time to see it crumble in on itself like a poorly made crème brulée. Although they were some distance away from the falling debris, in the moments it took him to recover from the fall, Chakotay could feel the air around him grow dense with dust and rubble as terrified screams filled the night.

"Are you harmed?" Asked Seven, who was propping herself up to kneel over him. She was bleeding from a gash above her eye where a branch had cut into her forehead.

It was only when he shook his head that she began pulling him up by his arm. "Are you?" He asked, reaching to wipe some of the blood off her ocular implant as he stood facing her.

Her hand went up to her forehead as well. "The wound is superficial. I am otherwise unharmed."

They turned back to look at the crumbling building as they regained their composure. "The crew…" Seven held Chakotay back as he made a move towards what had once been the ballroom.

"What are you doing?" He asked as he tried to shrug her off. "The crew needs us."

"The structural integrity of the building continues to be compromised. Any attempt at rescue must only be made once the debris has settled, lest we incur further casualties."

As if to emphasize her point, a falling column collapsed onto the ballroom's balcony. Chakotay turned back to Seven, "No," he whispered, "We can help. There must be something…" His voice trailed off as he sprinted towards the scene of the disaster and even Seven, bionic woman that she was, could not catch up with him.

"Have you seen the Captain?" Chakotay stopped a passing crewman for what must have been the umpteenth time.

"Sorry, I haven't, Commander."

It had been an hour since the blast and Chakotay was beginning to fear the worst. If Kathryn wasn't barking orders and working to rescue her trapped crewmen and their families, then she must be trapped under the rubble and was probably hurt or even dying.

Chakotay wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his dress shirt as he returned to removing the rubble. Close by, Starfleet's rescue teams worked carefully with laser cutters on some of the bigger pieces of debris, whilst others, like himself, worked on removing the smaller, more manageable pieces. Off in a corner, B'Elanna, Seven and several other engineers stood huddled over a console trying to determine which survivors or pieces of rubble they could extricate from the ruins by means of the transporters without compromising its structural integrity and doing even more damage. Some distance behind him, away from the disaster zone, was the triage facility, where survivors lay recovering or waiting to be checked by medics. Already they had recovered about twenty of those who had been trapped beneath the remains of the ballroom, none of whom had been seriously injured, but Chakotay knew that was only because their current efforts were focused solely on the outskirts of the wreckage where the debris was the lightest. As they progressed deeper into the ruins, deaths would soon be confirmed, and Chakotay felt immensely selfish for wishing above all else, that Kathryn was not amongst that number.

"Is the list ready?" Chakotay stopped Ensign Murphy as the younger man made his way towards the engineers. They were waiting on a list of attendees at the event to determine who was safe and who remained trapped in the rubble.

"I'm sorry, not yet, Commander."

"Tell them to hurry up. And not to forget any of the hotel's staff who were working the event. I want to know the names of everyone who was in there."

"Yes, Sir. Anything else, Sir?"

"No... but have you seen the Captain anywhere?"

"I'm afraid not Commander, sorry."

As Chakotay watched the young ensign hurry away, his gaze fell on the holding area next to the triage facility, where relatives who were too distraught or otherwise unable to assist with the rescue efforts sat huddled together trying to reassure themselves that their loved ones were still alive. Already, Samantha Wildman had worked herself into a frenzy over the fact that Naomi was nowhere to be found and had to be sedated. How could this have happened? He wondered. They were in the Alpha Quadrant now, they were supposed to be safe here, and yet this was by far bigger than any disaster Voyager had faced in the Delta Quadrant.

"Chakotay, Tuvok, over here!" Tom Paris called from where he was working close by. Thankfully, he and B'Elanna had left the party some time before Chakotay and Seven, when Miral had started to get particularly fussy.

A shoulder and a flash of auburn hair. Chakotay felt his hopes raise as the three men worked together to pull the rocks off the woman's body as quickly as they could.

"Her pulse isn't very strong," said Tom as they freed the woman's wrist. "Doctor! Medics! We need medics over here!"

The ruckus was beginning to draw a crowd. "Please, keep back. You are hampering the rescue effort." Chakotay could hear Ensign Vorik trying to keep 'the relatives' at bay as they strained to get a glimpse of the trapped victim.

"Just this lift this one and we've got her." Together the men lifted a particularly large piece of rubble so the medics could drag the woman out from beneath it. Chakotay studied the woman as wails rose from the crowd of relatives who were beginning to realise that she was not one they sought, and slowly, they allowed themselves to be guided back to the holding area.

"Is she alive?" Chakotay asked the Doctor who was hovering over the woman with a tricorder.

"She's got tough genes. She'll make it."

Chakotay felt a little lighter knowing that they had at least saved this woman's life and that hers was another count for the survivor's list, but as he watched the Doctor and several other medics lift Gretchen Janeway onto a stretcher, he wondered whether he would soon have to give her news that her daughter, only just been returned to her from the far reaches of the galaxy, had died.

No, he told himself as he went back to work. She's alive. I can feel it. I would know if she were dead, but he still couldn't shake the foreboding feeling that had plagued him since he had left Kathryn standing alone on the balcony earlier that evening.

There was a throbbing at the back of her head. Or was it between her eyes? When had she hit her head? Kathryn Janeway groaned as she tried to focus on the simple task of opening her eyes. The lights were dim and for a moment, she wondered whether she was in Voyager's sickbay, she did often felt this way when she woke up in sickbay, but the bed was unusually cold and the bare walls, made of mismatched sheets of metal crudely welded together, unfamiliar. As Kathryn sat up and tried to reorient herself, she took stock of her surroundings. The metal bed she lay on stood in the corner of a small bare room, of which one of the walls was missing, but if the soft hum was anything to go by, in its stead, was a pretty powerful force field. With her back against the wall, she could feel the slight vibration that indicated she was travelling on a shuttle, probably, at warp three. As soon as she realised she was in the brig of a pretty rudimentary starship, it all came flooding back to her - the party, the blast, the assailants in the turbolift.

She struggled to get up and make her way to the force field, bracing herself against the wall for support. She had to find out what was happening. Has there really been an explosion? Were her people okay? Why had she been kidnapped? Were the two linked? What now? What were her chances of escape? Her head started to pound and her skin began to bristle as she neared the force field, but there was no one beyond it to give her any answers. As her vision started to blur, a wave of nausea threatened to overcome her and she quickly made her way back to the bed. As she curled into the foetal position, she willed herself to stay awake. The symptoms of the concussion would soon pass and she could then plan her escape, but only if she managed to stay awake.

To be continued...