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PROVIDENCE

CHAPTER 1

2369

Deafening music pulsated The Liberty's bridge as Chakotay returned there from his quarters. His senior crew were laughing and dancing, and foremost amongst them was Seska.

"Computer," he cried. "End music!"

The music stopped instantly and the sobering crew turned to face him.

"What the hell's going on?" he asked. "Where do you think we are? A nightclub?"

Seska, clad in a sexy red catsuit, approached him. "Relax! We were just having some fun."

"Fun? The bridge is no place for fun! What the hell were you all thinking?"

"That we need to liven things up around here," she argued. "It's been days since we've seen any action and we're going out of our minds with boredom."

"That is no excuse! I expect discipline and diligence at all times!"

Seska slumped into a chair and crossed her legs. "Man! What do you think we are? Starfleet Stiffs?"

"The only stiffs around here will be us if this is how you behave when my back is turned! Or do you all have a death wish? Do you?"

"Yes," Seska answered. "For Feds and Cardies! But you're making a mountain out of a molehill, Chakotay. There's no one around us. We've got this space all to ourselves!"

"We don't know that! For all we know there could be cloaked ships everywhere! We must always be on guard! Always!" He looked around his shamefaced crew. "This will never happen again, understood?"

Silence.

"I said understood?"

The crew, which included B'Elanna, responded this time. "Understood."

"Good. Now, back to your stations!"

They all, except Seska, scampered back to their stations.

"And that goes for you too, Seska!"

Seska sighed and got to her feet. "On my way."

As she went, Chakotay sat in his seat and switched on the console before him. It showed up a map of the space ahead and on it a red dot was flashing.

"Sir," B'Elanna said, "I'm detecting something...a ship, I think."

"You see?" he cried. "We must always be at the ready!"

Seska spoke from behind. "There's no way it can be a ship. If it didn't show up until now, it's got to be just debris."

"No," B'Elanna said, "it's a ship...at least a shuttle. It's crippled and it's...Federation."

"A crippled Federation shuttle?" Seska exclaimed. "Boy, it must be our lucky day!"

Chakotay turned to her. "What do you mean by that?"

"What do you think I mean? We loot it and take everyone on board hostage!"

Chakotay got to his feet. "Like hell we will! Our war is not with the Federation!" He turned to B'Elanna. "Torres, any lifesigns on board?"

"Three," she replied, "but one is faint."

"If you can, get a lock on them and beam them aboard. They might need medical assistance."

Seska stormed from her station. "What? We're going to help them? Have you gone crazy?"

"As I said, our war is not with the Federation. Our war is with the Cardassians. We won't turn our back on people in need."

"Amen," B'Elanna said. "We have to help them."

"And help them how?" Seska asked. "We don't have a doctor on board. Our last round with the Cardie's finished ours off!"

"We'll do what we can for them," Chakotay replied, "just as we would for our own."

"Man! I can't believe I'm hearing this? What's the matter with you, Chakotay?"

B'Elanna got on the defensive now. "What's the matter with you, Seska? Don't you have any compassion?"

"Where was their compassion for our people? Where were they when our loved ones were raped and murdered? They sold us out, B'Elanna! They sold us to the Cardies! Why they hell should we care for them?"

"Because we're Maquis," B'Elanna cried, "not monsters! Those people need our help!"

"And we're helping them," Chakotay declared. "End of discussion! Torres, beam them to sickbay. Felis, bring us to a stop. Wensona, Harris, you're with me."

With that, Chakotay left the bridge and the two men accompanied him. One was a Native American, like him, the other was a red haired Bajoran. They walked down a long silver corridor that led to sickbay and got their weapons at the ready.

"Wensona, Harris," Chakotay said as he opened the door, "behind me."

The two men got into position and then the three of them stepped into the room. It was a small silver room with only four narrow biobeds, but it was equipped with all standard medical instruments and was clinically clean. As they stepped into the room, three figures materialized on the biobed and B'Elanna spoke over the comm.

"Torres to Chakotay. We have them."

"Acknowledged," Chakotay replied.

The three figures were fully materialized now and horror filled Chakotay at the sight of them. Their bodies were bloody and battered and completely naked.

"My God," he cried. Then he grabbed a medical tricorder from a shelf and hurried over to the first bed. The Officer on it was a man but more than that Chakotay couldn't tell. His face was so battered and swollen, his scalp so shaven and bloody, that it was difficult to determine by sight his age and race. But a quick scan with the tricorder told him the man was a human male of approximately 50 years. It also told him that the man was dying of severe head trauma.

Harris, who was attending to one of the other officers, spoke. "I have a white male Vulcan. He's dead."

"I have a caucasian woman," Wensona said. "She has a lot of injuries, but nothing life threatening."

Harris turned to Chakotay. "What do you think happened to them, Chakotay?"

Wensona answered. "Isn't it obvious? They've been captured by the Cardassians and tortured."

Chakotay spoke. "This man has severe head trauma. Wensona, you take over. You're better able to treat it. I'll take care of the woman. Harris, return to the bridge and tell Torres to scan for the closest Starfleet ship."

Harris did as he was told and Chakotay swopped places with Wensona. The woman on the biobed stirred as he approached and he saw that she was not as badly injured as the man. Her body was bruised and bleeding, her head shaven, but she was conscious.

"Welcome aboard," he said kindly. "You're safe now."

Chakotay then scanned her and saw that, while extensive, her injuries were mostly superficial. She'd been beaten, burnt and whipped, but there were no internal injuries, no indication of sexual assault, and no sign of brain trauma.

"There's nothing I can do for this man," Wensona said. "I don't have the expertise."

"Then we'd better put him in stasis. Beam a chamber in here and beam him into it."

"Yes, sir," Wensona replied.

As Wensona set about doing that, Chakotay returned to the woman. She was murmuring in pain and was bleeding badly from several wounds. Quickly, Chakotay picked up a hypospray, put her to sleep, and then began to treat her injuries with a dermal regenerator. It was a slow job as even her feet were bruised and bleeding. He started with them and worked up gradually.

In less than ten minutes, Wensona had the chamber in sickbay and had the injured man in it.

"Well done," Chakotay said as Wensona closed the chamber. "Now, come and help me. I'm making slow progress."

Wensona picked up a dermal regenerator and joined Chakotay at the bed. "Want me to do the upper body?"

"Please."

Wensona got to work on the woman's torso while Chakotay continued treating her battered legs. As the woman's skin healed, and silky white flesh took the place of bloody flesh, Wensona stopped working and fondled the woman's left breast.

"Good tits," he said. "Firm yet soft."

At this, Chakotay looked up at him and angrily seized his wrist. "Do that again and I'll break your arm!"

"What's the harm?" Wensona asked. "She's out of it."

"What's the harm?" Chakotay grabbed the man and marched him to the door. "Get the hell out of here! And if you can't treat women with respect, get the hell off my ship!"

"You're over reacting, Sir," the man cried. " I was only..."

"What? Feeding your lust like the Cardies fed on our sisters? Bastards like you make me sick!"

"It won't happen again, Sir, I..."

"It damn well won't happen again because you're jumping ship as soon as we meet another Maquis crew! I won't have scum like you on my ship!"

"But...Sir..."

"I mean it, Wensona! You've gone too far this time! You're out!"

With that, he threw Wensona out of the room and closed the door behind him. Then, after taking a calming breath, he returned to the woman. Alone, he healed the rest of the injuries to her body and then put a blanket over her. Then he began to heal her face. As he did, B'Elanna spoke.

"Torres to Chakotay."

Chakotay responded. "Go ahead."

"The closest Starfleet ship is two hours away. Shall I open a channel?"

"No. Send them an anonymous message giving the co-ordinates of the shuttle. Hopefully they'll set a course for it. Then, before we leave, we'll beam the officers back to the shuttle. It's the best we can do for them without endangering ourselves."

"Ok, Sir. Shall I send the message now?"

"Yes. Chakotay out."

As the connection terminated, Chakotay continued treating the woman. When he'd finished her face, he treated her scalp, which was also bloody and shaven, and then bandaged it to protect the delicate skin and to preserve body heat. He then injected her with strong pain-relief medication and woke her up. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, eyes that were blue and misty, and Chakotay spoke.

"Welcome back."

As her eyes focussed, and her mind engaged, the woman looked around.

"Where...where am I?" she asked, her voice coarse.

"Safe," Chakotay replied.

The woman looked up at him, studied his black clothes, and then his face. "You're not...Starfleet."

"No," he answered. "We're Maquis."

At this, the woman closed her eyes and tears welled under her lids. "I see," she said quietly.

Chakotay looked at her sadly, his heart going out to her. She had survived one hell only to find herself in another.

"But as I say," he said kindly, "you're safe. No one will hurt you here."

"My comrades...are they?"

"One is critical, the other is dead. I'm sorry."

"What will you...what will you do with us?"

"We've sent a message to the closest Starfleet vessel. We'll beam you back to your shuttle and they will collect you. It's the best we can do for you given our circumstances."

"I understand...thank you."

"Is there anything I can get you? A glass of water, perhaps?"

"I don't suppose there's a...chance of a coffee?"

Chakotay smiled. "Sure. How do you like it?"

"Black, no sugar."

"Then one black coffee coming up."

He went over to a small replicator, replicated two cups of coffee, and then handed her one as she sat up.

"Thank you," she said.

Chakotay pulled up a stool and sat next to her. "I would introduce myself, but it's better for both of us if we ask no names."

"Better for you, you mean," she replied.

"I won't deny it." He took a sip of coffee. "What happened? How did the Cardassians capture you?"

"How do you...know it was Cardassians?"

"When bodies turn up beaten in crippled vessels it always means Cardassians."

"Well, we were captured on an away mission. We were going to a planet...to gather samples...they got us."

"I'm sorry."

The woman stared into her coffee, her eyes momentarily glazing, then she spoke. "I was lucky. They didn't...It could have been worse."

"Yes," he agreed. "But you're clearly a very brave woman. I can't imagine what you've been through. To be still talking...not many are."

"You can," she said, "imagine it. You're a Maquis...a nice one...that means...it means you're fighting on principle, that the Cardassians hurt someone close to you."

"My family," he answered. "They were all killed by the Cardassians."

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

Suddenly, the door opened and Seska came in. "So, these are our prisoners," she said, looking around. "Not in good shape, are they?"

Chakotay got to his feet. "I didn't give you permission to enter."

"I wasn't aware I needed it. And I don't. There's only you, me, and these people non-grata."

"Leave," Chakotay said. "Now!"

"Why? So you can have all the fun? I want some of it, Chakotay. Because you're not really serious about letting them go, are you?"

"I'm very serious."

"But they should pay, Chakotay. They should pay for their betrayal."

"And just what do you suggest?"

"An eye for an eye. Isn't that what you humans say? We should take them to the cargo bay and execute them. Very painfully and very slowly."

"I don't believe I'm hearing this. What's gotten into you, Seska?"

"War, Chakotay. That's what! I'm at war! What about you? Are you at war or is all this just a game to you?"

"Yes, I'm at war, but not with these officers. Draw the line, Seska. Tow the line. Because if you don't...then you're off this ship with Wensona."

"You don't mean that."

Tears filled Chakotay's eyes. "I do, Seska. You're not the person I thought you were."

At this, Seska reached out and put her hand on his arm. "I am. Of course I am. I just...I just get carried away sometimes. But you're right, our quarrel has nothing to do with these officers. We should let them go."

"I'm glad you agree. Now, return to the bridge."

She saluted affectionately. "Yes, Sir."

As she left, Chakotay turned back to his patient. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

The woman said nothing, just stared into her coffee again.

"You are safe here," he reassured her. "You have nothing to fear. I don't fight the Cardassians to be like them."

"That maybe true for you," she said, "but it clearly isn't for all members of your crew."

"No. But they will harm you over my dead body."

"Then, for both our sakes, you should send me and my comrades back to our shuttle right away."

"That isn't necessary. The closest ship, which I'm guessing is yours, won't arrive for another two hours. Stay here in comfort."

"I'd rather rough it on our shuttle."

Chakotay really didn't like the thought of sending her back so soon, of letting her fend for herself in a crippled shuttle near the border of Cardassian space, but her reasons for wanting to leave his ship he could understand. If the situation was reversed, and he was now in the hands of an official enemy, he would want off at the first opportunity too. "Ok," he said. "I'll send you all back and we'll be on our way."

The woman looked up now, gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you...Chakotay."

At this, he smiled. "You got me. And you are?"

"Kathryn," she answered.

"Just Kathryn?"

"Just Chakotay?"

He laughed softly. "We'll say no more." He then hit his commbadge. "Chakotay to Torres."

In seconds, B'Elanna replied. "Go ahead."

"Beam our guests back to their shuttle. One is in stasis, so beam him and the chamber."

"Sir, does he really need it? We only have four chambers and we might need it ourselves."

"Right now, his need is the greater. Do as I say."

"Yes, Sir. Standby for transport."

The connection terminated and Chakotay turned back to Kathryn. "Good luck," he said, "and goodbye."

Kathryn gave a wan smile. "Goodbye."

A blue transporter beam then engulfed her and she disappeared. When she and the other officers were gone, B'Elanna spoke over the comm.

"Torres to Chakotay. Transport complete."

"Acknowledged," he answered. "Now, get us out of here, maximum warp."

"Yes, Sir."

In seconds, the ship began to move and silver stars streamed passed the windows at warp speed. But it was not the stars Chakotay was looking at, it was the bed where the woman had lay. Although she was just a stranger to him, he had felt a connection with her, some kind of inexplicable affinity. And, now that she was gone, he felt an unsettling sense of loss, almost an emptiness, a darkness as though someone had blown out a candle that had lit up his life momentarily. But then, shrugging off the feeling, he turned around and left the room.

END OF CHAPTER ONE