CHAPTER THIRTY

Kathryn smiled straight into the imager. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, and her face looked scrubbed and clean. She was beautiful even without make-up. Beautiful and fey and feisty, like he had seen her on so many mornings when he woke up in bed and found her staring down at him. When was that? Half a lifetime ago? It seemed like it to him.

So many things had happened, enough for an entire lifetime of ten couples. Was it only three years ago that Kathryn contacted him for the first time? He'd had a broken leg then. He remembered with tenderness how concerned she had been and how off-hand he was about his own injuries. Kathryn had been embarrassed calling him and she had closed communication so abruptly that for a moment he thought that she had not wanted to speak with him after all, or that she had made a mistake or that he dreamed she called him. What good fortune, what hand of destiny inspired him to call her back instantly after she shut down their comm-link? Even then he had been afraid of losing her. If he hadn't called back...

Yes, so many things had happened between then and now.

He remembered their first morning together when she had woken in his arms... There had been an accusing look in her eyes as she told him that he snored. After that, he often woke that way in the morning, with Kathryn's accusing eyes, her words that he’d snored again and kept her awake. He'd pull her close to him and kiss her and when she looked at him again, the accusing stare would be replaced by tenderness.

He gave a sigh. He could gaze forever at pictures of Kathryn.

The next few holo-images were of Kathryn and Hannah and Ceara. The dog jumped up at Kathryn, barking excitedly, and Hannah bent over and almost pitched out of her mother's arms to reach for the dog. Kathryn managed to contain the wriggling baby, then pointed to the imager.

"There, look there, Hannah. One day Daddy will see how you've grown. Smile, pretty please..."

And Hannah smiled.

Chakotay felt as if a giant fist squeezed his heart so tightly that he couldn't breathe. If he wanted to retain any modicum of sanity, he had to stop watching the photos and holo-vids Admirals Ponsonby and Paris sent him. He knew Kathryn didn't know they were sending him regular updates. Anyway, on the day Hannah was born, Kathryn had pledged that she'd prepare and record all Hannah's milestones, and that she'd show their baby pictures of him every day, so that Hannah could become used to seeing him and know one day that he was her father. He had to hand it to Admiral Ponsonby. The man was getting far too creative capturing the images. That they sent holo-vids and photographs to him was not known to her. He sighed. It was better that way, that she didn't know. It protected her and Hannah.

Hannah smiled as if she could see him, her hand reaching for the imager. She was only five months old but he could see she had sprouted two teeth already. Chakotay smiled tenderly. If his father had been alive, he would have said Hannah was a contrary.

There were a few more images of Kathryn with Hannah, of Hannah sleeping in her crib, of Hannah lying on a blanket under their tree at Indiana and the dog lying next to her. Baby and dog were fast asleep and the picture was so peaceful, so rustic that a lump formed in his throat. One picture showed Kathryn and baby with Kathryn holding Hannah close to her and both looking at the imager. The profile shot was beautiful. Kathryn's hair hung long down her back, and two pairs of identical eyes stared at him with an air of expectance as if they knew he'd be with them in the next moment.

The last holo-vid of the latest batch the admirals had sent, was of Kathryn alone, sitting in the lounge of their home in San Francisco. It was a message that Kathryn had prepared, one of many she had done in the months since Hannah's birth. Her messages had a positive tone to them, a clear conviction that he would be back with them one day, but in the meantime she'd talk to him as if he were right there, sitting next to her and listening to her. Sometimes he could hear the wistfulness in her voice; at those times, like now, he felt like climbing the bulkheads, so intensely did he miss her.

"I should stop punishing myself looking at these pictures," he murmured as he started the message.

In this holo-vid, Kathryn sat as he remembered her. She leaned forward, her chin resting against her hand. It always made him think of Rodin's "The Thinker"; many times when he had seen Kathryn sitting so deeply pensive, he didn’t intrude knowing that she appreciated it if he didn't ask questions because later, she'd talk to him about it anyway.

Now, Kathryn sat again like that and his heart was racing as he wondered what she was going to say. She raised an eyebrow, looking cool, though he could detect that underneath the composure lay her own heartache and longing.

Hello, Chakotay...

The familiarity of her voice welcomed him.

I miss you, and I just need this moment to allow myself the luxury of expressing it. You know how it is when you're missing someone and you can't always show it because so many depend on you to remain focused on what you're doing. I've been busy since my return from Arcosia Prime. It's been a month away from our precious little girl and I can't tell you how I've looked forward to seeing her again. Even though I kept weekly contact, you know yourself how inadequate it can be...

Kathryn paused, raised an eyebrow and smiled so that the corner of her mouth lifted. He thought immediately of how they used to communicate when on their respective vessels, and how on occasion they made love, yet always felt unsatisfied. Yes, he knew how inadequate subspace communication could be when all you wanted was your loved one in the flesh.

Anyway, Hannah was staying with Mom, you know. Phoebe had gone off somewhere for a few weeks and couldn't take Hannah. Mom, though, was only too happy to look after Hannah for us. They dote on her, as you can imagine, and Admiral Ponsonby goes everywhere proudly telling everyone about his beautiful granddaughter.

Chakotay's fingers touched the screen almost reverently as Kathryn paused for several long moments, a sheen of tears in her eyes. She smiled and wiped away at a drop that dared to roll down her cheek. He heard a sob before she collected herself again.

Do you know how protective Ceara is over our little girl, Chakotay? You should see them together. One morning - it's getting really warm here in Indiana - I let Hannah lie on her blanket under our tree and Ceara snuggled down beside her. It was so touching, you know. Both fell asleep, but Ceara started barking when Admiral Ponsonby approached them and wanted to touch Hannah. Poor Ceara. No, I should rather say poor Admiral Ponsonby! He married my mother in January, Chakotay. I don't know if I told you that already, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you again... Admiral Ponsonby loves Mom to distraction and he's rather besotted with Hannah. Hannah does tend to twist everyone round her little finger.

There was another long pause as Kathryn shifted position and sat back on the couch again. She gave a deep sigh, then leaned forward again.

I should tell you that during my last mission to Arcosia Prime, a major Cardassian armaments repository was destroyed by two Federation vessels. One was your old vessel, the Ormskirk and the other was the Enterprise. The Admirals are keeping mum about their part in it, but Chakotay, I can tell you that the Cardassian stronghold wasn't something the Federation could have known about. It was so hidden that only a Maquis covert operation could have uncovered it.

Chakotay rocked back in his seat. He should have known that Kathryn was far too perceptive, far too intuitive not to have sensed his involvement. Even if the admirals never told her anything, she'd have sensed something. He and Dalby had uncovered it a month ago at great risk to their safety and security. Funny thing about that little mission, he thought. They were looking for leads to Winonah's whereabouts.

"Oh, Kathryn..." he groaned, "you don't know the half of it..."

So, here I am, thinking the Federation took credit for something my husband uncovered in the first place and it's such a shame. I am proud of you. I don't mind telling you that I fear you'll never return to us, but I'm still proud of what you're doing.

Kathryn paused again and stared away from the imager for long moments, looking deep in thought. She's been taking a lot of flak, he realised. He had known that she would with the likes of Nechayev and Hays hounding her. She bore her cross with pain, he knew. The Admirals had tried to absorb much of it, but Kathryn continued to bear the brunt of his defection to the Maquis. She couldn't hide her sorrow. She was talking to him in a very private moment and Chakotay wondered idly how Admiral Ponsonby could have gotten hold of this holo-vid to send to him. When Kathryn turned to face him again, her face looked composed, although her eyes held a deep sadness in them.

"I promise, Kathryn, one day, I'll make up for all your pain..." he vowed when he saw how sad her eyes became.

I promised I'd not be sad, you know. But sometimes, I miss you so much I can't help it. Hannah needs you. We need you. I wish you could hold our little baby in your arms. I wish she could fall asleep in your arms and snuggle close to you, getting used to your smell; babies sense their fathers and mothers that way too. I wish you could take me in your arms and hold me and tell me all of this is a horrible dream and you'll never leave.

But I can hope, can't I? I've promised myself that Hannah will always know her father, and do you know, Chakotay, Hannah actually smiles these days when she sees a picture of you? We show her the holo-vids of our happy times together and we tell her that's her Daddy walking next to me, or that's her Daddy kissing me, or that's her Daddy busy with his sand painting. Then she smiles and puts her pudgy little fingers against the screen, making little baby noises. I swear Chakotay, she'll soon be saying "Daddy" before she says "Mommy".

Then Kathryn smiled brilliantly again and for a moment Chakotay wanted to believe there was no pain; he wanted to believe that Kathryn was fine. He wanted to believe that very soon they'd be united and he could assure her over and over while she lay in his arms that everything would be all right. He wanted to believe that she didn't miss him, because perhaps that would lessen his own pain, and make him a little more detached from his constant companions called anger, bitterness, sorrow, his intense yearning for his wife and child and home and everything that he’d ever held dear.

Why did he delude himself? Didn't Kathryn's smile just barely conceal her own sorrow?

I must say goodbye to you now, my love...

The screen went blank.

Chakotay stared for interminable minutes at the stark reality of the monitor, its only function which had been to convey a message to him. Suddenly the room felt empty about him. For a few glorious moments Kathryn was here in his cabin, talking to him, making it feel as if she were really with him and they were making conversation. She would speak of her activities of the day, tease him mercilessly when he snored; she would sit for him while he made yet another sand painting of her. In their quiet moments she'd tell him that once she had been afraid to love again, but that he taught her to embrace her own truth. He would give a contented groan whenever she ran her fingers through his hair, and allowed her thumb to graze his lips before she'd whisper how much she loved him.

The images were gone. Like a beautiful bubble it existed briefly before vanishing. He felt a coldness settle inside and when he looked around him in his cabin, his eyes wild with longing in the hope that he'd see her, he gave a cry of pain.

In his despair he covered his face with his hands and gave a few sobs, hardly realising that his hands were wet. Minutes later, still unable to find rest, he walked to his cupboard and retrieved an old pair of boxing gloves. He gave a shudder. It was one of the few things he’d brought along with him when he left Earth on the day Hannah was born.

Deep in thought he left his cabin two minutes later and strode down the corridor in the direction of the small gym, the only luxury the Liberty boasted.

****

The punching bag swayed lazily as Chakotay delivered a few fast punches to the belly of the bag. He pranced, threw a left, then a right hook and pushed as hard as he could.

He groaned loudly as Kathryn's voice cut into his mind like a sharp knife. Sweat pouring down his brow, his movements became intense, his punches harder as he tried to drown out images, voices, the cry of a baby... But they kept coming.

"No! Dammit!" he cried despairingly. "Leave me! Let me go!"

His demented words were accompanied by a salvo of frenzied punches. Once, he caught the bag as it swung towards him and he gasped in exhaustion against it, breathing heavily for several minutes. Then Kathryn and Hannah and Kolopak and Gretchen and Phoebe would come again and their voices would mingle; they'd shout at him, taunt him and remind him they were no longer part of his life.

The moment his denial encroached on his conscious, the punching would start again as he punished the bag.

"You - are - my - life! Don't - forget - it. My life !"

For the next few minutes, only the sounds of his punches filled the gym, the bulkheads bearing silent witness to his frenzied pain.

Chakotay hardly noticed when the door opened and someone entered.

The bag swung to him and with great force he hit it, again and again, until it wouldn't move.

"Chakotay."

"Go away!"

He delivered another hard punch, grimacing at the exertion. The bag moved away, caught by B'Elanna. Chakotay lunged and delivered another hard blow.

"Chakotay! Hey - !"

The next moment B'Elanna Torres, surprised by the swiftness of Chakotay's retaliatory blow to the bag, landed on the floor. She rose quickly to her feet, rubbing her bottom.

"Chakotay?"

"Torres?" He blinked several times, trying to focus. When her face swam into view, he gave a deep sigh and dropped his arms to his sides.

"Yeah, it's me..." she replied, dusting her pants at the same time. "You sure pack a punch, Chakotay."

"Don't mind me, Torres. Now move away," he warned as he pulled back his arm to land another punch. B'Elanna ducked out of the way of the advancing weapon. She approached Chakotay a little cautiously, yet his fists came up instinctively.

"Hey, Chakotay, it's me, B'Elanna. Remember me? Do I look like a punching bag?"

Chakotay dropped his arms again. He took a few deep breaths.

"What are you doing here, Torres?" he asked.

"I came looking for Chakotay. What have you done with him?"

Chakotay wasn't amused by B'Elanna's attempt at levity. He knocked the gloves together, as if preparing to fight her.

"He's right here, Torres," he snapped, closing the gap between them and towering over her. Then he turned and hugged the bag. He stepped back, pranced and delivered a few furious punches, the gym and B'Elanna receding from his mind as he concentrated on punishing his invisible foe. She jumped deftly out of the way.

"Hey, you want to kill me? What's gotten into you?"

"If you don't get out of the way, Torres, that will be your problem," Chakotay bit out.

A heavy punch to the belly of the bag followed. It left him gasping for breath. Then, for several minutes he fought, demented, snorting, grunting, muscles straining, straining, finally protesting as he stretched himself beyond his own strength.

"Chakotay, stop...please," B'Elanna's voice came to him through the fog that swirled in his brain. He heard it from afar, but it kept coming until it sounded clearly. Chakotay stopped, and when he did, B'Elanna stood right in front of him, her eyes wide, filled with concern.

"Torres?"

"Yeah, it's me," B'Elanna said a second time. The next moment he collapsed against her, the gloved hands gripping her tightly round the shoulders. He was breathing hard; when he calmed down, she held him a little away from her. "So tell me what's bugging you, Chakotay."

"Something's bugging me?" he asked, trying to sound flippant. But his mouth remained stiff, unsmiling.

"Yeah.

He sighed deeply.

"It's nothing, Torres."

"Chakotay, if this punching bag had been human, you would have killed it," she retorted quickly. After a pause, she said, "Want to tell me?" Her voice sounded soft, coaxing and for a moment Kathryn's image flashed before him. Kathryn, whose voice sounded sympathetic and kind whenever he was in pain. He closed his eyes against the memory, then remembered that B'Elanna was still standing, waiting.

"I - it's not easy, Torres."

"You miss them?"

He blanched at the directness of her question.

"I went to your cabin," she explained. "The picture of your wife was lying on the floor..."

"So I came out to muscle up a bit, Torres. What's wrong with that?"

"At 0300?"

He held out his hands and B'Elanna unlaced his gloves, pulling them off. She took his hand and led him out of the gym, walking in complete silence back to his cabin where she punched in his code and they entered. He looked at her, frowning until realisation dawned on him that she had come to him for help. His tone was apologetic as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Torres. You had a nightmare again?"

"I'm okay, now," she assured him. "I'm worried about you, Chakotay. You were like a madman in there. An angry, mad man."

"It's the way I...do things," he said by way of explanation.

"Well, if that's a coping mechanism, it sure isn't helping. Ever tried to talk about it? That helps."

Chakotay slumped down heavily on his bunk and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't get Kathryn's face out of his mind, and the truth was, he didn’t want to. He missed them; he missed holding her in his arms and missed seeing his baby smile at him.

"I miss her, if you must know."

"Your beautiful Captain Janeway and your little baby."

"Yeah," he sighed.

Sometimes he wanted to give up. Sometimes he felt like going home, forget about the Maquis and dream at Indiana, sitting under the giant oak with Kathryn and Hannah, soaking in the idyll of perfect peace and harmony. He wanted to get away and listen to his wife talking, hear Hannah's first words, see her first steps. Looking at their holo-vids was becoming more and more difficult. It reminded him of what he'd lost, of what he had given up. It was too much, too much.

Then he thought of Winonah. He thought of his mission. He thought of women like B'Elanna Torres, whose lives he'd saved, and something of the honour of what he was doing, stole its way back in his heart.

Then a hand touched his shoulder gently. His placed his own hand over B'Elanna's.

"Tell me about her?" B'Elanna asked softly.

Chakotay looked at her, unable to stand the compassion in her eyes. He took a deep breath.

"It's Kathryn's birthday in three days' time..." he said finally and B'Elanna's eyes widened as understanding dawned in them.

"Hence the poor punching bag."

"Yeah."

"And you're going to miss it this year..."

"Do you know," he said suddenly, fiercely, "that I've known Kathryn three years and I've missed her birthday every time? Last year - " Chakotay paused, unwilling to talk about it, but B'Elanna's eyes held no censure, only a compassion and understanding. It gave him courage to share with her. "Last year I was on Dorvan V, and after that...things went wrong..."

"Sedeka came into your life."

Chakotay looked up sharply at her to be met with a kindly smile. He nodded.

"She's dead now. That part of my life is over. I gave Kathryn a little dog and called her Ceara."

"I heard from Tom Paris that Kathryn Janeway named the dog Ceara. There's really a strong bond between you and your wife, Chakotay."

He was grateful that B'Elanna understood.

"I'll miss her birthday again - "

"What's the trade-off, Chakotay?" B'Elanna asked.

"The refugees who depend on us to take them to safe havens, medical supplies we take to settlements where it's needed. Little Winonah who is still missing... Saving people...you..."

"There's always a reward for one's sacrifice."

"Who told you that?"

"You did."

She smiled when she said it and a hint of a smile formed at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm a wanted man, Torres. There's nowhere in Federation space I can go without being recognised."

"It's your tattoo. Anyone tell you that you look good with it?"

He wanted to tell her how Kathryn touched his tattoo. It was the last time he had seen her and he wanted to cry. Kathryn had always known he would embrace his heritage and cultural identity. She had not been surprised, and her touch had been simply one of affirmation.

"Yeah," he sighed. "It's the downside of being on the run."

"I'm sorry you'll miss your wife's birthday again."

"I left her a gift, long ago, to be opened on her birthday."

"See? Would you tell me what it is?"

"What, and ruin the surprise?"

B'Elanna laughed. He felt finally a little better. It did help him, he realised, that someone - B'Elanna - could be there and offer him solace just by listening.

"Okay," she said, "I won't pressure you for details, but on her birthday, are you going to tell me what it is? Please? Talk about it? You'll not feel so lonely then..."

Chakotay nodded. He was tired; he was fast being overtaken by sleep, but B'Elanna was good company.

"Did you know our baby was born on my birthday? It's also the day of our anniversary..."

"You like co-incidences, I suppose. Some people love being sentimental..."

"Hey, I'm not sentimental. I certainly didn't order Hannah to be born on my birthday..."

"Hannah?"

"It's the name we gave our little girl. She had the name before - before..." Chakotay's voice trailed a little.

"Before she was born?"

"When we lost our son..."

"Oh, Chakotay, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's something we've dealt with, Torres. I promised Kathryn then our next child would be a girl and her name would be Hannah."

"Hannah has a special significance?"

"It was my mother's name," he said so softly that B'Elanna leaned closer to hear him. He touched the ridge on her forehead and smiled. "She was a very tiny woman, but everyone loved her..."

"Then it was a fitting tribute to her, Chakotay. A fitting tribute."

Chakotay knew about B'Elanna's troubled relationship with her mother, Miral Torres; it had been of the many things B'Elanna had told him whenever she had come to his cabin.

"Yes. When our baby was placed on her mother's bosom, Kathryn cried for my mother. She died, you know...my mother..."

"I know, Chakotay. On Dorvan V."

There was quiet for a few seconds until B'Elanna spoke again.

"Tell me, Chakotay, how did you and your Kathryn meet?"

"You don't want to know..."

B'Elanna gave a light laugh.

"Chakotay, you're the most enigmatic person on board. Very secretive. Everyone's dying to know more about you."

"My private life, you mean," he replied.

"Well, you can punch me on the jaw, but that's what I mean."

He hardly realised that B'Elanna had lifted his feet off the floor and made him lie back against the pillow. She had pulled off his boots as well, and then she had a blanket ready that she threw over him. Somehow, he didn't mind B'Elanna cooing over him. In the last year it was what he'd missed most - Kathryn's soft touch, a womanly touch.

"It's not everyone who receives the privilege of hearing it," B'Elanna continued softly as she sat down on the bunk next to him.

He sighed. B'Elanna's lips were parted in anticipation of his answer. She was as curious as the rest, but he knew she would never betray his trust. She was fiercely loyal, ready to punch anyone on the jaw to defend him. Poor Gerron had already fallen foul...

"It was a blind date," he admitted slowly and almost died of embarrassment when B'Elanna's eyes lit up in teasing merriment. But she soon set him at ease when she smiled, as if she thought blind dates were romantic.

"And you weren't blind," B'Elanna said.

"Neither was Kathryn."

"You knew, even then?"

"Knew what, Torres?" he asked sleepily, drained from his earlier boxing bout against a punching bag he sometimes called Gul Evek.

"That you loved her."

He was quiet a long time, remembering the first time Kathryn Janeway expressed her love for him. It had been via subspace communication and when she told him that, it was simply a confirmation of his own feelings for her and the instinctive way they had been drawn to one another. Kathryn had been so afraid then to become vulnerable again. So had he but they took their fears and called them Grey Eagle, the One who would guide them through and teach them that few in life are granted the true privilege of loving again, even more deeply than before, to fly into a new unknown and not be afraid of the journey or the destination. He remembered mostly Kathryn's eyes, how the blue-grey changed to deep pools in which he wanted to drown. His destiny was woven with hers forever. He remembered the many nights Kathryn clung to him, so openly vulnerable, as no one had ever seen her. He remembered how afraid he had been of losing her... Yes, he loved her to the very depths of his soul...

"Yes. Yes, I knew then. I love her, B'Elanna..." he whispered hoarsely. There was a short pause, then he spoke again, "Do you know Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Torres?"

"No," B'Elanna replied, frowning.

"She was a poet."

"Oh."

"She said: 'I love thee in every day's most quiet needs'"

B'Elanna pondered a few moments on his words.

"It's very beautiful..."

"I know..."

Chakotay closed his eyes, and when he felt B'Elanna's lips touch his forehead and she said quietly 'goodnight', it was Kathryn's face he saw, Kathryn's gentle smile when she spoke and Kathryn's touch on his brow.

"Goodnight, Kathryn..."

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

B'Elanna left Chakotay's cabin feeling a sting of tears behind her eyelids. When she had woken up earlier, in a sweat, gasping for breath, she knew that her demons had terrorised her again. Her hand had clutched her pubic area protectively and once again, she felt that Cardassian moving roughly in her. She had been terrified, though not a sound had come from her when she jackknifed into a sitting position on her bunk. She had been wheezing and when she rose from her bunk, her first instinct had been to walk to Chakotay's cabin.

He wasn't there when she entered and when she met Gerron coming off a very late shift, the kid had all but blustered his way through, saying that Chakotay was in the gym. Before she even thought of asking how Gerron knew that, the kid was quick with his reply.

"He ordered me to tie the laces of his boxing gloves."

"Oh."

Gerron had scurried away quickly and she had made a grimace of displeasure, certain that her own wild appearance probably scared him off. She rubbed her cranial ridge fiercely, then decided the ridge would never disappear. With a sigh, she had made her way to the gym.

Chakotay had been fighting the punching bag so vehemently and with so much aggression that initially, she shrank back from it. A closer look at him told her it was something really deep that was troubling him, something from his personal life. He didn't frequent the gym as much as he liked to, he had admitted to her a month ago when they had been working double and triple shifts almost round the clock. No one rested and everyone pulled his or her weight. So there he was, fighting an invisible foe.

It was in his face - the anger, the depression, the frustration, the yearning.

Her own problems suddenly paled in the face of his. Before, when she’d needed him, he was there, every moment given to her, helping her and helping others. He never turned her away, never showed any impatience that he was too busy to tend to her. There were times he was deeply asleep and he rubbed his tired eyes until he looked alert, then he'd sit her down patiently and talk in soft tones to her, drawing her out and away from her trauma. The nightmares were lessening, but tonight, it had been incredibly terrifying.

When she saw how Chakotay struggled with his demons - she was certain no one knew how he coped, since he rarely if ever drank anything strong - her instincts to help him surfaced and she forgot about her own troubles. In retrospect, it was probably what she needed too, to focus for once on someone needing her. She didn't doubt that Chakotay needed someone then, perhaps not necessarily her, but she felt she had the credentials to be that person he could share his own pain with. There was a firm level of trust between them, and in her own darkest hours, he hadn't minded being there for her and telling her things he would tell no one else on the Liberty, except perhaps Dalby.

She saw that Chakotay really needed to talk to someone he trusted. He was beating the hell out of his punching bag but not finding any closure or absolution. The aggression, anger and frustration that was there with the first blow, did not abate with the last blow. Not even in his totally exhausted state, did he look like the workout helped at all.

Tonight she'd seen a vulnerable Chakotay, so radically different from the strong, aggressive Maquis leader who had little trouble killing the likes of Seska. Chakotay missed his wife; he missed his child. When he joined the Maquis, it must have been a tremendous sacrifice for him to leave wife and child and lead the life of a renegade.

B'Elanna wondered idly what kind of gift Chakotay had bought his wife. Kathryn Janeway was a Starfleet Captain, the daughter of an admiral, same as Tom Paris's father was an admiral. What would the daughter of an admiral need as a birthday gift?

She had to get hold of Ayala in the morning. Dalby had returned a day earlier than expected, and it was something Chakotay had been glad about. Perhaps they could alleviate Chakotay's loneliness by organising a little something in lieu of his wife's birthday.

Who knows? Maybe then Chakotay wouldn't feel so lonely on May 20.

***

They were nearing the Badlands and Chakotay was in a foul mood. The hull plating of the cabins on the lower deck was buckling from a breach in the hull. It was nothing that couldn't be remedied and B'Elanna was on it immediately. The rest of the crew worked round the clock to repair the damage after their latest skirmish with a Cardassian vessel. Dalby had returned with a "mission accomplished" look on his face, had lifted his spirits. Now all Sergei had to do was analyse Seska's DNA and prove once and for all that Seska was a Cardassian in a Bajoran body. Dalby had also returned with an encrypted message from Sergei. Everything was fine at home, he said, and young Anatoly had just become a grand master by beating the great Spock at 3-D chess.

Chakotay had been right. Seska's little sojourn on the Liberty had told the Cardassians where they were heading, though Chakotay had known they wouldn't venture too far into the Badlands. No Cardassian vessel could make it through; the Liberty had superb maneuverability, thanks to Torres and Paris, who in the short time he had been with them, had redesigned the navigational array, and making passage easy through the plasma turbulence.

Chakotay gave a sigh. It had been good talking to B'Elanna last night; he got things off his chest and she didn't press him for more than he was willing to share.

Last year he had given Kathryn Ceara and since then, so many things had happened; in the end he had been blessed by Kathryn's amazing forgiveness. Now, as they made their way to Alkorea, on the other side of the Badlands, he felt a little better, although he missed her intensely. He touched the photograph he had taken during their first visit to Indiana when Kathryn introduced him to her mother. He felt the old rush of tenderness and smiled back at her.

"You know how much I long to be with you, sweetheart, but you understand, don't you? You understand..."

It seemed to him that Kathryn's smile deepened and that her eyes filled with tears. He imagined he could hear her say "I'm proud of you, Chakotay..."

"I don't know how long this war is going to continue, Kathryn," he said reflectively. "At least the Federation is making giant inroads into disabling Cardassian armament factories. I suppose I can tell you I've given them that information, only they don't know... The Cardassians are using slave labour on worlds no one knows of, only a few crew on this vessel. It hasn't been easy, flushing out intelligence, and poor Seska... She's left me with so much information about Cardassian strongholds, you wouldn't believe how stupid she was, using her old encryption codes that I broke in the first place. She counted on killing me first, you know..."

Did Kathryn's eyes light up? It seemed to him they did. He returned her smile, touched the cool glass again before sighing deeply.

By the time he left his ready room to go to his quarters, his steps, although measured and purposeful, were at least a little lighter than before. The old depression from missing Kathryn and his baby and her family seemed to lift a little, leaving him more optimistic about the future. When he entered his cabin, he sighed with relief. They had been working hard, and B'Elanna, Gerron, Dalby and Ayala had gotten the Liberty running again at close to peak efficiency - peak, that is, for the Liberty. He gave a grimace. The old engines were on their last legs, so to speak, although B'Elanna was brilliant in patching and rebuilding.

"It's good for another two years, Chakotay, before our luck will run out - "

"I hope by then the war will be over, the Cardassians blown to kingdom come, and we can all go home."

"Chakotay, get real. We'll all go to Federation jails before we can go...home."

B'Elanna had deliberately trailed the last words. Naturally, a jail term awaited him. Still, for him home meant being with Kathryn again. For B'Elanna? She had none to go to.

"My father deserted us when I was five, you know. I think it was because I looked too much like my Klingon mother," she once said disparagingly.

"You're not going to cut him some slack?"

"We've given him twenty years of slack, Chakotay," she replied bitterly.

"And your mother?"

"No go. She and I don't get on well..."

Yes, he sighed. Some, like B'Elanna, considered the Maquis as their home. All he wanted to do was hold Kathryn in his arms again. He wanted to join his body with hers and feel her quivering need. He gave a deep, shuddering sigh, thinking how long ago it was that he and Kathryn had last made love.

"Chakotay, get your damn behind in bed and don't think of home," he chided himself, willing away thoughts of Kathryn. They had work to do in the morning and he wanted to make it to Alkorea in record time. Any distractions he'd have to deal with when they got there.

Chakotay had just taken off his boots when his computer made a sound. To anyone hearing the tone, it would have sounded strange. For him, it was a subspace secret communication, undoubtedly from the admirals. It seemed to him they were strategising the War Effort all on their own...

In a flash he was sitting down and entering the codes. A second later, the face of Admiral Paris appeared on the screen.

"Good evening, Chakotay," Owen Paris said, a smile hovering on his face.

"Good to see someone from the Federation who's not ill-disposed towards me," Chakotay replied. "Good evening, Admiral."

"We've received information from Sergei Karkoff about the Cardassian, Sedeka..."

"So soon?" Chakotay asked, surprised.

"Yes, and Sergei has also informed Kathryn of his findings. You said it was okay that he tell her?"

Chakotay nodded, then frowned.

"Admiral, this is not your regular communication. Is something the matter? Kathryn? Is she okay? Is something wrong with Hannah, maybe?" Chakotay was extremely concerned, suddenly afraid that something may have happened to Kathryn or Hannah.

"Chakotay, they are in very good health. Missing husband and father naturally."

Chakotay gave a sigh of relief. He leaned forward.

"Then what is it, Admiral? I can't believe you'd communicate just to say 'hello'," Chakotay replied, suddenly feeling his neck hair rising. Something was up, he realised. This call was out of the blue and very risky too. They'd never been intercepted but anything could happen. Were they giving him another covert mission? he wondered.

"Well, Chakotay, there's a freighter in sector 452 awaiting your arrival. Captain Orr is the commanding officer. You're to rendezvous with him, and he'll bring you within Earth's orbit in two days' time."

"Earth?"

"You're to meet with someone at these co-ordinates..."

Chakotay waited for the co-ordinates to be transferred to his computer and when he studied them, he frowned.

"San Francisco?"

"Yes, Captain. And here are the precise co-ordinates you are to beam to using only your site-to-site transporter..."

Another set of co-ordinates was transferred. Chakotay looked, blinked, looked again. He felt his chest wheeze, and gulped painfully at the lump that formed in his throat. The Admiral's voice seemed to come from a long way off.

"You have a window of only six hours, Captain Chakotay, before you're to beam back to the freighter."

"Admiral, but - but these co-ordinates... it's - it's my - "

"Surprised, Captain?" Owen Paris cut in. "It's the best Admiral Ponsonby and I could come up with to bring some joy into your life and reward you for meritorious service to the Federation."

He couldn't smile. They were giving him the gift of his life. He stared at Owen Paris, still speechless with amazement. His eyes burned, and he blinked several times before he found his voice again. His throat felt thick, raw with emotion.

"Thank you, Admiral Paris... Thank you..."

*****

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