Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-pas-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!priapus.visi.com!orange.octanews.net!news.octanews.net!zeus.visi.com!news-out.visi.com!news-out.octanews.net!petbe.visi.com!yellow.newsread.com!news-toy.newsread.com!netaxs.com!newsread.com!POSTED.newshog.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: From: "Layla V." MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW VOY "Absolute Power" Chap 2a 4/21 (C/P, J, AU) [NC-17] Content-Type: text/plain Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Lines: 502 Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 12:55:11 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: newshog.newsread.com 1092142511 209.198.142.218 (Tue, 10 Aug 2004 08:55:11 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 08:55:11 EDT Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:82603 X-Received-Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 05:55:17 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) TITLE: "Absolute Power" Chapter 2a (July 2004) AUTHOR: Layla V CONTACT: v_layla@hotmail.com WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/laylatrek ARCHIVING: Personal website, CPSG, Cha_Club, ASCEML SERIES: Star Trek Voyager RATING: NC-17 for violence, sex and language PART: 4 of 21 CODES: C/P, J/m, P/T implied, All Voyager characters, AU, Angst, H/c, OCC SUMMARY: Voyager's encounter with an intergalactic STORY NOTES: Evil!Janeway alert. See Part 1 of 21 for the details. DISCLAIMER: All characters, other than the original ones created by me, are owned by Paramount. I am merely playing. No copyright infringement is intended. NOTES: Thank you, Britta, for your clearheaded suggestions CHAPTER 2a "Trouble in Paradise" **Night 1** Commander Chakotay had always thought water was supposed to look black at night. He still remembered the late night swims at Lake Peņalosa at the edge of his village on Dorvan. After a long tiring day at the school, the water felt delightfully chilled and refreshing--or during vacations, a much needed break, after he was free from working with Kolopak in the cornfields during the day or helping him out with his artifacts after one of his expeditions. How cool that water was, how rejuvenating the soothing inky curtains of waves surrounding him, how breathtakingly beautiful and black. This water, though, even in the dark Kel'zian night, was anything but black. Ichthyophtharizus--an underwater monolithic dome made of glinting glass, surrounded by sparkling blue water. A place of reverence for the Zokaa'rians, who being believers in the boundless strength within water, considered all life under the sea sacred. The outside of the dome was elegantly lit by gentle, soft-hued disks of illumination, filling the surrounding waters with beautiful, mesmerizing swells of azure light. The quiet ambience of the peaceful atmosphere occasionally broke as some sea creature came near the glass dome, bumping its fin against the luminescent surface, but then as it retreated, the peace too returned--bringing with it an irenic, ardent hush, one that could only exist at a place of worship. "Our ancients considered the sea all-powerful," Resh'lon said as he stood next to Chakotay, his voice reverently low, his eyes fixed on the water around them. "Centuries ago, when our people still lived on planets, Ichthyoph was considered the symbol of strength and endurance... an inspirational being, powerful and resilient enough to carry the weight of the land around him. He was the god of nourishing, life-giving water. He lived at the bottom of the sea in his gem-engraved alcazar. We build these domes in his reminiscence, to try to get closer to the creatures that lived in the depths with Him." *When his people still lived on planets.* Stuff from the ancient Zokaa'rian historical chronicles. The idea of building advanced habitable settlements on asteroid belts was unique to start with. However, the thought of an entire civilization, especially one as diverse at the Zokaa'rians, to have completely evolved on such settlements and space stations was more than intriguing. The Zokaa'rians didn't have home planets. Instead their 'homeworld' was a giant cluster of asteroid-based settlements, mining fuels from the two binary stars giving off energy, and from special ores in the asteroids they resided on. The fact that all the planets in the Zokaa'r home system were nothing more than poison-spewing masses of toxicity, and thus completely inhabitable, hadn't deterred the Zokaa'rians. Centuries ago, their ancestors had simply entwined their lives and their hopes around the science of pure space settlement and went about perfecting it. Their ancient history, however, did speak of the worlds they had once inhabited, of oceans where hundreds of years ago they'd once dwelled. Being spiritual people, they'd stayed true to their traditions and found other worlds to conquer, while keeping the native lifestyle intact and unhindered. As someone who'd learned to respect the value of cultural integrity and the pursuit of traditional beliefs wherever he went, regardless of circumstances, Chakotay found himself immensely impressed by Zokaa'rian history. Now, he found himself looking into the dark green eyes of the tall, broad-shouldered alien, his majestic stance imposing yet distinctively candid. "Neptune," Chakotay murmured. The regal brows rose in query, as the Zokaa'rian Royal turned to the commander. Chakotay looked at Resh'lon and smiled. "In Earth's mythology, Neptune was the God of Sea," he explained. "A figure of spiritual inspiration and illusion, he lived in his palatial palace on the ocean floor and was known for his youthful, strong spirit, as well as being the protector of all waters. In ancient Earth astrology as well, Neptune is known as the planet of mercy and compassion." "A most intriguing parallel between the mythologies of our two people." Resh'lon looked at Chakotay, his eyes warm in appreciation. "We see the First One is a man of prayer and deep insight. We are happy to note we were right to bring you and your team to the Ichthyophtharizus." Chakotay inclined his head. "My ancestors believed in communing with nature, in existing in complete harmony with all creatures around us, whether they're on land, in air, or in water." "Much like us. You will notice that although this isn't our native world, we live in complete harmony with the creatures in the Kel'zian waters." The Zokaa'rian gestured with one arm to indicate the dome and what lay beyond. "To us, all water is sacred, all life within water divine. We do not make impure their existence by imposing on their kind accommodation to us. We are revered that the sea creatures of all the worlds in the Zokaa'r Sovereignty have accepted us, they know us as we know them--through the sincerity of our spirit, through the pureness of our soul." The Royal then looked at Tuvok. "And although we expected the Observer to be perceptive of our spiritual inclination as well, him being a man of higher cognitive abilities," a teasing smile appeared on the Zokaa'rian's face as he turned to Tom, "I must say it is the Guide that surprises us the most. We didn't expect a man of his youthful flamboyance to be so observant, to be so in tune with our venerated sanctuary." Chakotay felt a smile tug at his lips as he looked at Tom, noting the momentary surprise on the pilot's face at being addressed by Resh'lon. He had caught the rapt expression on the blond's face earlier, the blue eyes gazing reverently to the shimmering haven around them--filled with a soft, almost guileless enchantment. Now he watched as after an initial struggle, the blond carefully composed himself and with an assuredness that, the First Officer suspected, came from attending hundreds of official Fleet functions and meeting off-world dignitaries as an admiral's son, smiled at the Zokaa'rian Royal and said, "Much as it's been an honor for us to meet with a ruler of your illustrious repute; one who is also so generous with guests. For you to share this beautiful, sacred, and exquisitely tranquil place with us is a privilege unlike any we've ever known before." The privilege of knowing the sea again. This unadulterated love of the water. The ghost of Monea. The last time Chakotay had seen Tom so enthralled was when they'd found that ocean floating in space. The look on his face reflected pure elation and uncountable delight. Bliss--suddenly found, rudely snatched away. Even now, sometimes he'd catch Tom unawares--in the quiet of the night, or sitting across from him at a bar in Sandrine's, or during some distracting moment between shots in the middle of a late night pool game. And he'd notice this strange, fleeting, wistful countenance on those intense pale features--something that always made Chakotay uncomfortable, something he thought didn't quite suit his pilot. They'd left Monean space months ago but it seemed Monea had somehow stayed behind in Tom's heart--changing him on a level perhaps deeper than losing his rank. Chakotay wondered if that was behind the recent 'developments' in Tom and B'Elanna's relationship. And then he blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts, knowing he had to focus on the mission right now. The talk he'd had with B'Elanna would have to be pondered some other time. After all, despite his private observations of this situation, right now he was simply glad to see Tom's melancholy replaced with the same wonder that he liked seeing on his face--no matter how temporary it may be. That wonder had obviously not gone unnoticed by the Royal officials either. "Ah, a pilot and a diplomat." The Great Overseer laughed as he turned to Chakotay. "Not only is your team highly observant but greatly eloquent as well." And then he stepped forward, a hand each on Chakotay's and Tom's elbows, as he led the three men out of the glass passage, and into the exit room. "Come now, we all must go up and mingle and make way for those negotiations you are here to carry out." In a matter of seconds, they were zipped out of the dome, using the same advanced transportation system that had deposited them there, and back into the large, beautifully decorated banquet hall. With its sparkling dark stone floors, vividly painted indigenous patterns adorning the high domed ceilings, and the intricately carved arches lining the open corridors, the hall was designed to dazzle its visitors with its grand allure and Chakotay had to admit that it succeeded splendidly. If he had thought the size of the crowd was impressive last time, though, he was in for a surprise. The gathering had grown even larger in the hours of their absence, alive, bustling with excitement, an assortment of aliens thronging the hallways, clad in their colorful attire, speaking with loud, convivial, animated gestures. Most interesting was the fact that the moment they stepped into the room, all eyes turned to them and then stayed riveted their way. Whispers and smiles and nods were relayed to the newcomers, symbols of the warm welcome they'd been awarded on their arrival. This was a place that welcomed outsiders, loved the exotic. These people had an urge to embrace the mysterious. Chakotay paused to take account of the whole atmosphere, breathing in the fresh evening air, when he noticed that some of those stares were doing more than staying merely riveted. Feeling awkward, he saw many gazes interestingly roving up and down their frames, and then he shook his head as he realized the reason why. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the stiff-backed figure of Tom Paris next to him and felt an urge to grin at the cause of the pilot's discomfort. Tuvok, walking alongside them, was the picture of perfect Vulcan impassiveness: Eyebrows arched in observation, long neck straight with cultural pride, characteristic half-frown properly in place. Chakotay wouldn't have expected any less from the Tactical Chief. But when it came to Tom... Heck, everyone was looking at them with the most unrelenting interest. And it was quite human to fidget in circumstances such at these. After all, they did make quite a sight, didn't they? The Zokaa'rian dress code for alien diplomats chosen to meet in the Ichthyophtharizus, and later for negotiations, was very, very specific. Yards of flowing smooth silks in earthen shades, like a beautifully textured Terran specimen of Charmeuse. All cut and tailored into form fitting Zokaa'rian style dress suits, fitting their contours perfectly. A long-sleeved waist-length body-hugging luminescent silk caftan for a shirt, and tight trousers made of a textured fabric that clung to their legs and curves. It was flagrant enough by itself but if it had stayed at that, he doubted there would've been any problems. But it hadn't, and there was an additional catch. Complementing the dress were gleaming jewel-encrusted, gilt-bordered pleats of silk outlining their crotches and butts. Although the soft silk felt exquisite against his body, tingling his skin and somehow enhancing his nerve endings, the whole ensemble drew way too many eyes--making him feel self-conscious despite all his inner restraint. "I never thought being trussed up like a stuffed chicken was ever gonna be a requirement at a diplomatic gathering," Tom muttered in complaint next to him. This time the grin couldn't be hidden. "Relax, Tom," he teased the pilot, "it could be worse." "Crotch plates?" Tom nearly squeaked. "What could be worse than crotch plates?" The pilot struggled to keep his voice low and Chakotay couldn't help but chuckle at their shared predicament. "God, Commander, I've never felt so..." "Highly desired?" Chakotay cut him with a smile. "Very *funny*." The blond rolled his eyes. "Uncomfortable," he emphasized. "Or so pointedly stared at in my whole life." Chakotay turned his head at the blond as mock-puzzlement showed on his face. "What? Not even during those shared strut sessions at the K'tarian Strip Bars in San Francisco?" "Of course not..." Tom's response was almost automatic before he caught himself. "Hey, how did you..." He stared at the grinning First Officer as he again stopped in mid-sentence. "Shit." He shook his head in amazement. "What's the matter, Commander? That Kel'zian wine got to you, huh?" "Didn't drink much of it to affect me." Chakotay looked straight into Tom's eyes and then smiled. "Don't worry, Ensign. It's my own embarrassment talking. Besides," he turned amused eyes to Tom's frame. "I hardly think the clothes make a difference here. You made quite an impression on the Great Overseer. Youthful flamboyance and all." They were nearing their destination, the ceiling-high, carved wooden doors being opened for their arrival. Chakotay noticed the large number of guards lined up against the walls of the Meeting Chamber, and from the corner of his eye saw Tuvok's head tilt up--and he knew the Security Chief had also made note of the elaborate security arrangements. "Me?" Tom's eyes were glinting with sudden mischief. "You're kidding, right? You're the one he seemed to have all his attention on--the way he hangs on each and every word you say." "Perks of being the First One, Tom." "They are, aren't they?" Tom smiled and then he looked at Chakotay thoughtfully. "I can't believe you've actually done sleuthing on my dubious pre-Starfleet past." "As opposed to your dubious post-Starfleet one?" Chakotay's smile turned wicked as Tom's eyes widened, and he decided this was much too fun to pass up. "You think I'd hire a pilot to fly my ship without doing proper research on him? Not the way I work, Tom. I happen to know *all* your secrets, probably some that even *you* don't know about." With that he turned around, and following the lead of the Great Overseer led his team inside the Meeting Chamber, completely missing the strange look that passed over Tom's suddenly tense face. And then Resh'lon and his Cabinet members were welcoming them to the negotiations, guiding them to their intended seats one by one, and that moment was muted in a flurry of diplomatic activity. In the cataclysmic events that would follow in the next few days, that lone missed look would ultimately come to stare Chakotay right in the face on more than one occasion. # # Harry Kim peered at the padd in his hand. The generator was in all probability situated somewhere on the planet, inside the barrier, he reasoned. The electromagnetic field above the planet atmosphere created energy signals that acted as a natural defensive shield for any planet, he thought excitedly, so it was possible the same effect could be reproduced in a laboratory as well--as an electronic faux-facsimile of a natural shield. His mind squabbled with mathematical equations, his eyes widening with wonder as he poured over the data in front of him. "Stupid Starfleet regulations. Damned thick-headed bureaucratic royal idiots." It was really quite fascinating. He ignored the 'noise' in the background and continued with his study; it was possible the EM field generated by the sun also had some effect on the barrier. The numbers on the screen in front of him hinted at something, he wasn't sure what, but there had to be a clue somewhere. Was it deliberate, was it unintentional? What he wouldn't do to figure this one out. "Don't know who the HELL thinks getting locked up inside a freaking unknown planet is a good idea?" Harry sighed. Yes, well, he'd run scans on the energy barrier and being bolted in would be a better analogy. He was getting some very strange energy readings from the space station as well. Hmm, he wondered if Seven's data would provide a useful insight. It was worth asking, he supposed. Maybe after they'd checked the progress of the Zokaa'rian teams onboard helping with the repairs, he'd go and talk to Seven. "Stupid jerks who don't listen to the data we collect, no matter how damn PAINSTAKING our effort may be!!!" Harry could take it no more. He dropped the scanner from his hand. With gritted teeth, he turned to his companion and snapped impatiently. "B'Elanna, will you STOP this?" Angry eyes turned to him as a snarl started in the half-Klingon's throat. "It's a pathetic situation, Starfleet, and you KNOW it," B'Elanna Torres growled. "Chakotay, Tom, and Tuvok are locked up inside that grid, and we have NO idea how the negotiations will turn out." "B'Elanna, they're down there negotiating for the repair facilities the Zokaa'rians have already started providing for us." He asked, "What more do you want?" "It's a first contact with a galactic superpower that we know NOTHING about." The engineer balled her fists, her nostrils flaring. "And SHE sent them inside without batting an eye." Harry narrowed his eyes. "Is it really the captain you're pissed off at..." B'Elanna glared at him, her breath ragged, her face scrunched. He saw her mouth work for a few seconds but no words came out. Shaking his head, he sighed. "You didn't tell him, did you?" "Dammit," B'Elanna snapped. Harry threw up his hands. "When were you planning to?" "I was ABOUT to when the Detarians attacked..." Harry looked at her unbelievingly. "That was over two weeks ago." B'Elanna went on as if she hadn't heard him. "...and then there was so much repair work to do because the whole damn ship was broken that we didn't have even five minutes together for the NEXT two weeks, and then...we met the mighty Zokaa'rians... Harry stared hard at his friend, feeling frustration fill him. "You couldn't figure out how to approach him, could you?" "Fuck this, Harry." She seemed on the verge of tears, so intense was her anger at herself. "You chickened out." He shook his head in resignation. "You broke up with the guy but you didn't have the nerve to tell him that it was over." She averted his eyes in dejection. "I was going to..." He gnashed his teeth. "And now you're upset because he's locked up inside that grid and you didn't even let him know why you've been such a bitch to him for the past two weeks." She looked up at him at this, pain and self-loathing filling her beautiful dark eyes. "I didn't want it to end like this, Starfleet." Harry felt his heart wrench at the pain in her eyes. He cared for her as much as he cared for Tom. They were both his best friends. "I know, Maquis." He softened his tone, knowing he'd seen the breakup coming months before either Tom or B'Elanna had realized. Those two were simply too much alike to have survived long together. It was terribly disappointing but it wasn't the fault of either of them. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. Don't worry." He put his hand on her delicate wrist. "He'll be back in three days and then you can tell him." B'Elanna stared at him, her throat convulsing. "But the question is: will he understand?" "He's Tom Paris." Harry looked into her eyes. "He has plenty of experience in understanding when things don't work out." # # Continued in Chap 2a _________________________________________________________________ Help STOP SPAM with the new MSN 8 and get 2 months FREE* http://join.msn.com/?page=features/junkmail ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: