Disclaimer: Paramount owns all. I'm just playing.

Summary: Kathryn, Louis, and a mysterious prisoner all consider their futures.

This episode is for Cam, Vanessa, Angela, Elisa, Debbie, cjsands, janezy, Mary, Eva, Sally, Bette, Mojca, Cimi and Karen, for your kind prodding and patience. Thanks. I'm back in the game now :-)

~~~

Kathryn stepped out of the turbolift at a random deck, turned left and began walking down the corridor. Without Tuvok to talk to, she had taken to prowling around the ship. At times her late night strolls reflected a need to show her face to the crew, to prove that she disregarded the rumours about her behaviour and competency. Other nights it was a real need to stretch her legs, to shake off the restlessness that plagued her now. When she sat alone in her quarters, as she had done the first few nights after Tuvok's departure, her thoughts chased each other around and around in circles until she felt like screaming. If Doctor Zimmerman were still here, she thought wryly, he would no doubt comment on the increased amount of time she was spending in the holodeck, working out her frustration in simulation after simulation. If Tuvok were here, he would tell her it was illogical for her to brood, either in silence or in violence. But neither were here, and she missed them both immensely.

Running her fingertips along the smooth paneling of Voyager's walls, Kathryn remembered how impressed she'd been with the vessel when she'd first come aboard. She'd imagined feeling the affection for it that most Captain's felt for their ships. But before she'd had the chance to grow attached, Voyager had been whisked to the Delta Quadrant by the mysterious Caretaker, then sent back again, without its Captain. She'd spent the next two months on the Liberty instead. Despite her protestations to the contrary at her Starfleet debriefing, the experience had changed her. She could no longer think about the Maquis the same way. She didn't think about herself the same way, either. For most of her life she'd served Starfleet, and been proud of her service. But in only two months she'd found new skills buried within her, won the trust of the rebel crew, and made close friends from among their ranks. How could she view this time as a trial, a burden she had to bear, as the inquiring officers had seemed to suggest? She wouldn't have chosen for those events to happen, but she wasn't sorry for the experience, or for the memories.

Kathryn paused to nod at a young Ensign who was scurrying past, no doubt heading back to her quarters after a night of social activity. What did this young woman think of her strange and distant Captain? For Kathryn knew that this crew, despite their years of training and service, did not know quite what to make of her. She was finding it difficult to slip back into the once-comfortable role of Starship captain. The distance she'd always seen as necessary between herself and the crew now appeared to be a curious barrier. One strengthened, no doubt, by Groot's anti-Janeway publicity campaign, which continued unabated. For her part, Kathryn regarded most of her officers with a wary eye. Lieutenant Kumuda, she knew, had served under Lamond for three years. Starfleet's decision to transfer her to Voyager was no coincidence. And though the others may not be spies, Kathryn felt distinctly uncomfortable trying to socialize with any of them.

Oddly enough it was Commander Cavitt who seemed the most comfortable with her now. Since their argument in the caves on Jotham Four almost a week ago, Cavitt had appeared pensive, even deferential. What Kathryn had said in a moment of inspiration about his past struck a nerve. Two days ago he had even offered to play a game of velocity with her. Kathryn had accepted, more out of curiosity than a genuine desire to play. She couldn't help wondering if his casual invitation had been a gesture of friendship, or perhaps an unspoken apology for his past behaviour.

Still, what made her role the most difficult was knowing that her attitude towards Starfleet had also changed. Treating her own officers with caution was evidence enough of that. She didn't know who else was responsible for concealing Lamond's treachery, and in a way, this uncertainty made her suspicions worse. At her most optimistic moments, Kathryn convinced herself that it could only have been a handful of disillusioned individuals, perhaps others with a personal grudge towards the Maquis like Lamond. In her darker moods, she imagined a conspiracy that spread like a canker throughout the ranks of Starfleet bureaucrats, poisoning their sense of decency and justice.

On this night, however, Voyager's Captain was thinking quite different thoughts. Tonight Kathryn thought of Chakotay. The fact that her imagination kept dwelling on him contributed to her desire to wander the ship, rather than hiding in her quarters, helplessly daydreaming away the hours. Being out of her quarters, though, did nothing to guide her thoughts away from him. Even when she managed to push away the memories of their time together – the sensation of his warm skin again hers, his lips, his tongue, his smile – he would pop into her mind with disarming regularity. She could imagine telling him about the most mundane details of her day, from the series of problems they were having with Voyager's gelpacks, to the Stellar Cartography reports she'd pretended to read while sitting on the bridge. She could imagine telling him how she'd managed to avoid getting a physical from her new Chief Medical Officer for the fifth day in a row. She imagined how the skin around his eyes would crinkle as he smiled. She imagined telling him how lonely she felt, knowing there would be no need to tell him, because he would know simply by looking into her eyes as she tried to give him one of her non-genuine smiles.

From there it was a small step back to daydreaming, and Kathryn made her way towards her quarters lost in thoughts about when, and where, they would meet again.

~~~

The man's head hurt. This he knew with certainty. Every time the vessel he was on made a sound – and he was sure now he was travelling on some kind of vessel – the pain would ricochet through his forehead and temples. He rubbed his grimy fingers over his head, clutched them over his ears, sometimes burying his head in his lap, but the pain remained.

Most of the time the pain was the only thing he knew. Sometimes he would wake with a lingering fragment of a dream fresh in his mind. Sometimes a woman's face, her eyes blazing, sometimes her whole body, swaying in front of him, walking towards him. His lips would form a shape, ready to whisper her name. Then the memory would be gone. Moments later, the face too would slip away, leaving him in darkness and confusion.

Someone fed him. This he knew, although he never saw them. The food would be there when he woke, in a bowl just inside the doorway. One time he tried to stay awake and wait for the door to open. For surely the door must be opened for someone to bring the food inside. But the waiting was too tiresome, and eventually he slipped into a fevered sleep. When he woke, the food was there again. Bland, but enough to keep him from starving.

He tried not eating, just to see what would happen. Would more food be delivered? Would someone come to check if he had eaten? Time passed, but nothing changed. Eventually his stomach began to protest, and he ate the food anyway, all thoughts of passive resistance gone.

He could not tell if he slept at nighttime, as they room was always gloomy. He couldn't measure how much time was passing, although sometimes he tried to count. Perhaps he stayed awake a full day before sleeping again. Or perhaps he slept every few hours. The man had no way of telling.

Sometimes, if he sat extremely still, the pain in his skull would subside. Then he would push himself to his knees, then up to his feet, and begin exploring the room. He didn't know why, or what he was looking for, but he felt a definite urge to explore the space around him. But no sooner would his fingers press against the cool metal of the wall than the throbbing pain would start up again. If he remained standing it grew worse and worse, until he was knocked to his knees again.

The pain puzzled him, as he could feel no injuries on his scalp. It seemed a malevolent entity, a force with a life of its own. At times he felt it was punishing him, though he didn't know for what. Mostly the pain kept him from thinking. To make it go away he could lie very still, not even moving his eyes. If he kept that up for a good while, the throbbing in his temple faded to a pale buzzing, bearable, but not unpleasant. At these times he could think – try to puzzle out the mystery of the food, or the darkness, or even the source of the pain itself.

But most of all he wondered about himself. Who am I? he thought. Who am I?

~~~

Louis Zimmerman felt superfluous. It was an unusual sensation, and a distinctly unpleasant one for a man who'd spent most of his working life amid the frantic hustle of medical bays. There had been times in his career when he'd questioned his choices, of course, and wondered whether he might not be happier doing something else. But then some research project would arise, some frustrating new strain of bacteria would mutate, or he'd find a cure for an unusual disease, and the flush of discovery would renew his flagging faith in his profession.

Now he had left his job behind, and his life as a Starfleet doctor, to join in Kes' hunt for the truth. At the time the decision had felt so right, so sure, that he hadn't spent much time ruminating on it. Starfleet was behaving shamefully, concealing the truth about the murder of the sixteen Maquis and young Harry Kim, while disseminating lies about Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway. How could he not act? How could he, in all good conscience, stay onboard Voyager and continue to serve them?

Now, five days later, as he sat alone in the Liberty's cramped canteen, doubts were beginning to crowd his mind. It was not that his old friends here had not welcomed his arrival. Amid a small group like this his valuable medical knowledge would always be gladly received. Hogan had initially shown a flash of suspicion about his motives, before Kes had spoken up to defend him. B'Elanna had, much to his surprise, actually given him a quick but fierce hug when the two of them were led onto the Liberty bridge. Later that night, as they had shared dinner, Hogan had dropped a veiled comment suggesting that he, and many of the other Maquis, would be glad to have Louis' company once again. It was true he had felt he hadn't been really part of the group during his time on the Liberty, but he liked and respected these people.

And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was oddly out of place. As they had sped towards Deep Space Nine, where Chakotay and Tom Paris had last been sighted, the crew were all caught up in their own activities. B'Elanna, now the ship's Captain, spent much of her time tinkering with the new cloaking device she had constructed. Hogan too appeared busy with his work. Kes, who had come aboard the Liberty with him, seemed to vanish into the bowels of the ship. On several occasions he'd found her working in the hydroponics bay she had helped to build, pottering in the dirt, and tending the somewhat neglected plants. The young woman spoke with him while she worked, but he couldn't persuade her to leave and join him in the mess hall. Perhaps it was his imagination, Louis sighed, but there seemed to be a widening distance between them now. He couldn't help wondering whether Kes had sensed his feelings for her and was quietly drawing away. Was she still consumed with her grief for Harry? Or was it something more? Her enigmatic remark to him when they had embarked on this journey together hinted that she had some kind of revenge in mind for Harry's murderers. But what?

Louis also began to admit that there had been a degree of self-righteous pride in his decision to leave Starfleet. He had not said so openly, but had hinted as much to Captain Janeway when delivering his resignation. He remember how her eyes had flickered dangerously when he had spoken so contemptuously of staying in Starfleet. She must, he realised with a flush of shame, have noticed the insinuation he was making about her own behaviour. He sighed again, and shook his head quietly. If he knew anything about Kathryn Janeway it was that she was fiercely loyal. She must have some plan for Lamond, or some reason for continuing with the charade of chasing the Maquis cell.

Lost in his glum thoughts, Louis didn't hear the doors open and someone stride in. When a voice broke into his reverie, he jumped, then flushed again with embarrassment.

"Sorry, doc", B'Elanna said, a wry grin on her face. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I was just thinking."

"If you'd prefer to be alone…"

"No, actually, I'd love some company."

B'Elanna grunted as she pulled out a chair opposite him and sank into the seat. "I'm sorry about that."

Louis frowned. "About what?"

"Neglecting you. Us all rushing around madly for the last week. You must have been feeling invisible."

Zimmerman stared at her for a moment, struck by her perceptiveness. "I know this isn't a holiday cruise," he said eventually.

They young Klingon woman grinned again. "I wish!" She sobered quickly. "To tell you the truth, we're all worried about what's happened to Chakotay. And Paris. It isn't like him to disappear like this. It's putting us all on edge. If he's been caught…" she let her voice trail off, the meaning obvious, and her concern for her old friend written clearly across her features.

"If Chakotay taught me anything last time I was here, it's that he knows how to take care of himself."

To his surprise, B'Elanna chuckled softly. "Yeah. I remember telling Kathryn exactly the same thing the last time he was missing."

She shook her head, as if to dispel the unpleasant thoughts those memories raised. Thinking of Kathryn made the young woman scowl.

"I can't believe she went back to work for them. After what you told us about the way they treated her at the debriefing, the evidence they stole, the things they're saying about her." She snorted. "She must have one hell of a surprise up her sleeve for them."

The doctor smiled at that, touched by her loyalty. "I hope so", he said.

"How is Kes?"

Louis blinked at her in surprise for a moment, before realising that B'Elanna would have no idea how infrequently he'd seen the young Ocampan woman.

"I'm not sure, actually," he said quietly. "She's been a little reclusive."

B'Elanna watched him for a moment before responding. Louis felt she was measuring something – whether it was him or her next words, he couldn't tell.

"Mm", she said, after a few moments had passed. "You know, at the risk of sounding like I want to be the ship's counselor, well, I do know how you feel."

Louis stared at her, feigning blankness. "Oh?"

"About Kes. This may be forward of me, Doc. I know you and I have never been that close. But I'm fond of you." She pulled a face. "Don't tell anyone I said that. I don't want to ruin my fierce Klingon image".

Louis was almost sure she was joking. Despite her hot temper, B'Elanna's big heart was well known to all those who were her friends. He smiled at her encouragingly.

"I've been there myself", B'Elanna said, "Being in love with a friend. Someone who didn't feel the same way. It's hell."

Zimmerman wanted to ask who she meant, but didn't want to push her.

"I can't think of anything to say that doesn't sound trite", B'Elanna went on softly, "but it does get easier."

"Does it?"

"Eventually."

"I would have thought that being in the Maquis would make people reluctant to let their guard down and get close to someone else", he said.

"It does. But sometimes you have to seize your chance to be happy, no matter how fleeting it is. And sometimes you have no intention of caring about people, but it sneaks up on you, before you know what's happening."

As Louis stared glumly at his knuckles, a sudden thought occurred to him. "Chakotay?" B'Elanna didn't respond, but continued to regard him steadily with her dark brown eyes. "You're talking about Chakotay, aren't you?"

"Yes", she said, after a moment, "a long time ago." She narrowed her eyes then. "Please, don't tell me, you thought I was going to say Tom Paris."

Zimmerman felt the urge to chuckle but resisted it. "No", he said. "Actually, for some reason, I though you preferred women."

B'Elanna's eyes narrowed further. "Now who's jockeying for the counselor's chair?"

Louis laughed, and B'Elanna smiled at him. "I like people", she said, "good honest souls. They're hard enough to find these days."

"Fair enough." He sobered as her words reminded him immediately of Kes. "She keeps pushing me away", he said softly. "I'm not expecting anything from her. I just want to be there for her."

On impulse B'Elanna reached out to squeeze his hand. "And you will be, when she's ready."

"I feel so helpless. I wish there was something I could do."

At that something seemed to occur to B'Elanna. "That reminds me", she said, letting go of his hand and grinning. "I have news for you. I was just talking over subspace to a contact on earth, catching up with what she knew about the Cardassian situation."

"Is there any news about Lamond?"

"Indirectly". B'Elanna's eyes were gleaming now. "Obviously you weren't the only one who felt you'd like to do something. Remember how we heard that Tuvok had been recalled from Voyager, and replaced with someone else?"

Louis nodded, thinking of the snippet of news they're received earlier in the week.

"Just after I left", he said.

"Well, it seems he wasn't too happy about it."

"Oh?"

B'Elanna looked like she wanted to leap up and dance a little jig. "I've just heard some interesting news from our network. He's left earth", she said. "And, from the sounds of it, he's pretty much told Starfleet to go to hell."

Louis opened his mouth to reply when the Liberty comm system chirped. It was Hogan's voice, oddly tinged with fear.

"B'Elanna?"

The young woman turned serious again at his tone.

"Yeah, Hogan, what's up?"

"Is the doctor with you?"

They both straightened in their seats, Louis instinctively rising to his feet.

"What's happened?"

"It's Kes. I found her in the hydroponics bay, lying on the floor. Doc, I can't wake her up."

~~~

~ read part twenty eight ~

~  Jinny's stories   ~   feed the author   ~