Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newshosting.com!nx01.iad01.newshosting.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 3a 6/21 (C/P, J, AU) [NC-17] Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 547 Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 12:55:15 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: newshog.newsread.com 1092142515 209.198.142.218 (Tue, 10 Aug 2004 08:55:15 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 08:55:15 EDT Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:82605 X-Received-Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 05:55:20 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) TITLE: "Absolute Power" Chapter 3a (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: 6 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 3a "Paradise is Hell" **Night 2** It was the sound of a scream that jolted Chakotay awake from his stupor. With a start he realized that he had fallen into a drowse again. How he managed to keep doing that while confined in a cramped, frosty four by four cell was a mystery to his frazzled nerves. Must have something to do with whatever they'd drugged him with, he thought. This constant whirring in his ears, either drug-induced or caused by an actual stimulus from his surroundings, was absolutely agonizing, making him lightheaded. He frowned and squinted at the metal door. What was that sound he'd heard? He was sure it had been a scream. Or was it something imagined, part of a half-remembered dream, from the fuzzy pathways of his delirious mind? He straightened his legs in front of him and tried to rest his aching back against the stone wall as he stared at his surroundings again. The cell was too small, the wall behind him too cold and the floor underneath too damn hard. There were no windows anywhere on the walls that could give him a view of the outside, tell him how much time had passed since he'd been thrown in here. He thought it had to be close to a day, perhaps a little less, but couldn't be sure with all these semi-drowses he kept falling into. Where were Tom and Tuvok, Chakotay wondered, feeling a wave of nausea approaching again, and breathing deeply, fought to stave it off. He hoped they had somehow evaded the people who'd abducted him. He wondered if the shield grid had come down and whether Voyager had been informed of this incident. He hated the fact that this mishap had now put the mission in jeopardy. Everything had been going so well. Why had this happened? Who were these people? The strange aliens he'd 'met' so far, his captors, had not been from any species present in the gathering last night. In fact, he'd never met such... unusual looking creatures before. Short, spindly, androgynous bodies, frizzy dark-haired heads, and the most peculiar bulging eyes that seemed almost matched in their bizarreness by their large ungainly puffy mouths. However, it wasn't the strangeness of their facial features or their body shape that had bothered Chakotay. What had sent a shudder down his spine was the near-maniacal look in those snakelike eyes as they'd roved up and down his body, the way they'd tried to 'feel' him every time they'd come in to 'check' on him, the way they'd swarmed around him like vermin, clicking away in that maddeningly high pitched tone--revolting him, as he'd kicked them away in disgust. He didn't want to think what they had intended for him. He really didn't. Damned if he was going to let them touch him again. Spirits, the mere thought of them on his body made him feel sick, squeamish, making the bile rise in his throat. There was that sound again. His head jerked up and Chakotay strained to focus his eyes at the door again. Yes, it was a scream, a sound of definite pain, coming from a distance. It sounded... familiar somehow. Dammit, who was it? Chakotay felt trepidation fill him. Who the hell was it? Were Tom and Tuvok here? God, he hated the thought of that. All his questions, all his demands to the aliens to tell him where his team members were had gone unanswered. Where the hell were they? Why wasn't anyone talking to him? The wave hit him head-on this time. His fingers clawed into his throbbing temples and with a groan of misery he bent down, his head between his knees as he tried to draw in long, ragged breaths of air, feeling his head pound with raw, biting pain. It took Chakotay longer to regain his composure this time, and then he had to simply force himself to get his wits together because he could hear sounds again. Different this time, the sounds were of dragging footsteps, slowly drawing near the cell door. He gritted his teeth, swallowed the bile rising in his throat and willed himself to face whoever was coming for him this time. The door was thrown open and in the sudden harsh glare of lights he was blinded for a moment. He moved away from the opening, readying himself for an attack, when he saw someone thrown in the cell with him and heard the loud clank as the door was banged closed again. It took his vision a second or two to settle, and then what he saw brought his breath up short. It was Paris. "TOM!" The cry of dismay was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Chakotay felt a sense of distress slither into his soul, for the one thing he had been dreading all this time--his teammates being in danger--had in fact come true. The pilot was resting on his haunches, his blond head bowed, and with his heart in his mouth, Chakotay approached the crouched figure slowly. "Tom," he called out to the younger man softly this time. There was no reply. Chakotay could see the lean shoulders rising and falling with Tom's rapid breaths. And then he thought of the noises that had woken him up and suddenly, Chakotay found it difficult to breathe. Those screams... he gulped, those painful screams had been Tom's? "Tom," he raised his voice a little, putting his hand on one pale wrist, as he urged the other. "Look at me." The tousled head, the blond locks dark with the sweat mingled in them, slowly rose and he was suddenly pierced by the most disbelieving blue stare. There was something in those eyes, something he couldn't quite put a word to yet, that unsettled Chakotay, totally throwing him off. And then he saw the slashes on Tom's right arm and the blood streaked on his caftan and felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. They had hurt Tom. "Spirits," he cried. "What... what the fuck did they DO to you?" Chakotay thought he heard a snort in reply as the blond head shook in what appeared to be incredulity. "I can't *believe* this," mumbled Tom as a strange sneer wrinkled those well-proportioned features. But it must be the drugs screwing with his head again, thought Chakotay. He must be seeing... must be hearing things. "Dammit, you're bleeding." Chakotay reached out to gather the pilot to him, trying to look at the wound properly, and was confused when he was pushed away. "Yeah," the blond grunted. "No fucking joke, huh." What the heck was Tom up to? Swallowing a strange wayward twinge of pain, Chakotay decided to focus on the fact that Tom was hurt worse than he himself was, and only Spirits knew what those bastards had done to him. It was only natural that the pilot was apprehensive about being touched by anyone yet. Chakotay simply had to deal with Tom with the utmost care. He had to find out what the hell had happened. "You're burning up, Tom." He softened his tone again. "Come on, let me see." "Oh puhleez." Chakotay was shocked when he was again roughly pushed away. "Spare me the sensitive routine, Commander." The pilot's words were slurred, sluggish. Chakotay suddenly realized what had happened. "You're drugged, Paris." "Of course I am," Tom snapped at him. "I dunno what kinda shit they pumped inta me, while you, of course, got the stately treatment... as always." That twinge had come back and Chakotay tried his utmost to bury it again. "Well, whatever drug they gave you has obviously affected your judgment." He tried to keep his voice down. "You have no idea what you're talking about." "Yeah, you'll always be the first to come to that conclusion, won't you?" There was unfathomable contempt in the blue eyes. "Tom Paris, the stupid fucking clueless one." Chakotay found himself flabbergasted. What the hell was going on? Why was Tom being like this? What kind of drugs would do this to him? "Tom," he frowned. "What the hell are you--" Paris interrupted him in the middle. "What was it that B'Elanna said to ya, Chak?" What? Chakotay stared at the pilot. "B'Elanna?" "Yeah." There was anger in the younger man's eyes. "Your cozy lil friend, B'Elanna. My supposed girlfriend. Who trusts you more than she'll ever trust me..." Was that what it was about? Tom and B'Elanna's relationship problems? But then why was Tom taking it out on him? "Tom..." he tried to speak. "Was this the secret that you know about me?" The blue eyes bore into his accusingly. "Secret?" Chakotay blinked. What the hell? "Yeah. The Secret." Tom gritted his teeth. "You said it at the reception, remember? You know secrets about me which even I don't know about." Spirits. The man was completely confused. The drugs had obviously screwed up his reasoning abilities. Whatever the hell had they given to him? "Dammit, Tom," Chakotay said. "You've got the whole thing completely out of context. I was not talking about anything B'Elanna said to me." "But she said something to you about me, didn't she?" The blond was breathing hard, his face screwed up in pain. "Something that changed your opinion about me." Oh no. Chakotay was *not* going to discuss his talk with B'Elanna here. That was a private discussion between two friends. Yes, it involved Tom but whatever Tom wanted resolved with B'Elanna, he had to sort it out himself. "Tom," Chakotay told himself to calm down as he tried to put some sense in the younger man's head, "I don't NEED anyone to say anything about you to form an opinion. I formed an opinion about you YEARS ago and it's still the same." A sudden strange bleakness filled the blue eyes at this. "Still the same." Paris heaved a breath in. "Goddammit. Nothing I do ever livens it up, does it..." Liven it up? "Paris," Chakotay sighed, feeling distressed at the pilot's strange mood. "You're out of your senses." "...but you will of course listen to whatever the hell B'Elanna says." Tom was babbling, his face flushed, his breath ragged. "And I am supposed to feel better because her saying all the shit to you doesn't make your opinion any WORSE than it was before." "Worse?" Oh Spirits, how wrong could this idiot have gotten it? Chakotay shook his head. "Stop ranting, Tom," he said forcefully, hoping to put an end to this conversation here. "Why the hell didn't you stop her?" Chakotay stared at Tom. "Stop who? B'Elanna?" The blue gaze was drilling a hole into his forehead again. "The captain, dammit. And by the way why don't you EVER stop the captain from doing any fucking thing?" The pink lips curled up in contempt. "It would count if you stood UP to her every now and then, ya know." For the first time Chakotay felt an urge to grab the pilot by his throat. "What the FUCK are you talking about?" "Truth hurts, doesn't it, Commander?" Tom sneered. "Well, it does NOT help being the captain's lackey all the fucking time." Chakotay felt his hands curl into fists. "Lackey?" he snapped, anger suddenly broiling inside him. He knew he should take a breath, probably let this senseless baiting go, but suddenly couldn't stop himself. "This coming from her 'pet reclamation project'?" he growled. "What the hell do YOU know about standing up to the captain? You've been her henchman since the day you came onboard the damn ship." Tom jeered at him. "I DID stand up to her and she threw me in the brig, remember?" There was that bleakness again lurking in the blue eyes. "You of course agreed with her decision wholeheartedly." Wrong, the sonofabitch had gotten everything so fucking wrong, Chakotay thought, his heart thundering in his chest. "You have no fucking idea what you're talking about." But it didn't seem Tom was even listening to him anymore. "But since your OPINION about me has stayed the same all these years, why the hell should you care?" "Is that what this is all about?" Chakotay stared at him. "You think I don't care about you?" "Why are we even DOWN here?" Tom definitely wasn't listening to a word he was saying. "Why did we ever COME this way with this ravaged ship? Why the hell couldn't you stop the captain? Why don't you EVER stop her?" "ME stop HER?" Chakotay knew he should shut up, he should stop his words now, but all of a sudden he couldn't help it, all of a sudden he didn't even care. "How can I stop her from doing whatever the hell she wants if I am in the fucking brig?" This got the pilot's attention. "You're the First Officer." He stared at him. "To a crew that BLINDLY follows its captain," Chakotay snarled. "What PURPOSE do I even fucking SERVE on the ship?" This strangely shut Tom up for a moment. But all Chakotay could think of was the countless times he'd butted heads with Janeway over the years and gotten nowhere. She always got her way through, disregarded his suggestions--even if they were more effective, more practical, more sensible than anything she had planned. And all he could think of was that he'd gotten nowhere because no one else on the command hierarchy had the spine to stand up beside him and question her decisions. But he didn't want to focus on that right now. He didn't. This was pointless. Tom Paris was obviously out of his mind. He had no idea what the hell he was ranting about. Chakotay saw Tom's mouth work as if trying to say something. "Stop it." He growled at him in warning. "Just STOP IT, Tom." He reached for his crewmate's injured arm and was again pushed away. "Don't," Tom grunted. "Let me look at your arm, Paris." Chakotay gritted his teeth. "You're hurt. You're drugged. If you were in your right mind you would NEVER talk to me like this." "Well, that's certainly true," Tom snapped. "Been the freaking case since the Maquis when I first laid eyes on you." There was that pain in those eyes again, the pain that bothered Chakotay more than anything else--this stupid unreasonable pain, that matched the stab in his own heart for having been so completely misunderstood. "I always had to freaking keep myself in my SENSES, to avoid the wrath of the GREAT Chakotay of the Maquis cruiser Crazy--" "Stop this," Chakotay snapped. Tom glared at him. "Fuck you." Chakotay gazed at the blond for a moment, his mind awhirl, his heart thundering, and suddenly the decision was made. He had to... just had to get to the bottom of this. "Just what wrath are you talking about?" he asked Tom, his voice deliberately casual. "This opinion," Tom scoffed. "The way you think about me. What your thoughts are about the mercenary Tom Paris..." "Mercenary..." Chakotay shook his head in amazement. "...who was CASHIERED out of Starfleet with the LOWEST of honors!" Chakotay stared deep into the sweltering blue eyes. "Why the hell do you think I HIRED you in the Maquis, Paris?" There was a flicker of distress in those eyes, yet the answer was the blunt, "Fuck you, Chak." "No." Chakotay shook his head, his voice firm. "Answer me. Why do you think I really hired you? I need to know this." Tom's drawn features hardened further. "Well, all right, how about this?" He looked up into Chakotay's eyes. "You were in a war. The Maquis needed pilots. You were desperate. I had the ability, the credentials, the..." "We weren't *that* desperate, Tom." Chakotay stopped him in the middle. "And your credentials weren't that significant either. It was a life and death situation for us and I was *not* going to jeopardize our security, our *lives* in sheer desperation and hire someone who didn't give a fuck about the cause. I needed honest people with a conscience, Paris, not fucking *mercenaries* who would've betrayed us without a second's thought." "So why did you hire *me*?" Tom's face screwed into contemptuous loathing. "Why? When you thought I was such a lowlife piece of scum, why did you give me the job, Chakotay?" "Because I DIDN'T!" Chakotay roared. "I didn't think you were lowlife, Paris." He tried to lower his volume. "I didn't think you were scum. I thought you *had* a conscience. For someone who'd thrown away his bright and shiny Starfleet career over the simple and *painful* point of telling the truth, I thought you had *substance*." There was stunned shock on those pale features, the blue eyes bright with sudden unbidden moisture, as Tom Paris stared at Chakotay in transcendent amazement. Perhaps that's how it was supposed to happen, Chakotay thought wearily; perhaps the realization of living with such a misunderstanding for so damn long really did that to people. But Chakotay wasn't through yet. He had to say it all. "And then," he continued, his voice trembling. "I saw you on Voyager's Bridge and felt like the universe's BIGGEST FOOL. I felt as if I'd been wrong about you all those months ago, because there you were, standing free, consorting with those I'd vowed to fight." For the first time he saw desperation in those eyes. A staggering grief mingled with belated realization as Tom bit his lips in consternation. "I... I couldn't fly anymore, Chak." The blond tried to explain, his voice hoarse. "They cut off my wings. I was suffocating. I needed to get out, to breathe; to see the stars again. Even if it was from inside a cage. I didn't betray you." Chakotay looked into the blue eyes unflinchingly. "You switched sides." "No, I didn't." Tom raised his voice, "I didn't tell them anything. Hell, there WAS nothing to tell. It wasn't as if you'd let me in on any of your Maquis secrets." That same irrational misapprehension of not being trusted. Chakotay couldn't believe how completely it filled his heart with pain and hurt and anger. "I told you as much as you needed to know." He clenched his jaw. "But tell me this..." Chakotay narrowed his eyes at the blond. "What *would* you have done if I'd let you in on my plans?" Tom looked at him, his throat convulsing. "I wouldn't have stabbed you in the back." "And why should I believe that?" Chakotay asked. The light eyes widened. "You believed it when you hired me." The blond brow furrowed. "You believed it when you gave me your hand and trusted me to get you out of that tunnel alive." "And look what you did in response to THAT." Chakotay couldn't help but chew every word out. "Every chance you got, every time I put my faith in you, you threw it in my very face, didn't you?" His heart was heavy in his chest and he knew his voice was shaking but he could do nothing to bring it under control. "You take every interaction I've ever had with you and judge it with the misconception YOU have that I don't care for your well-being. Well, have you ever tried to look at it from MY point of view? Have you ever given a FUCK about how I felt when you undermined my authority, when you acted like a recalcitrant child and publicly disregarded my orders because you only knew how to blindly follow what the 'captain' said?" He felt his throat tighten, the humiliating memories of the Jonas incident still fresh in his mind, as he struggled to finish what he'd started. "Hell, Paris," he stared at Tom in wonder. "You didn't even have the NERVE to come and ever clear the air with me. No wonder you think I've hated you all this time. You've been building this fucking smokescreen for the past seven years." Through the shameless dampness in his own eyes that he impatiently tried to blink away, Chakotay saw Tom staring at him with despairing, agonizing compunction. The deep blue eyes, the drawn pale features, everything about Tom screamed remorse and hurt and desperation. But Chakotay couldn't move, didn't dare move, so tight was his throat, so ragged his breath. From the back of his mind, Chakotay thought he heard more sounds approaching but couldn't bring himself to give a damn. He saw the look in those blue eyes first change to panic as the cell door behind him was thrown open, and then to sheer distress as he was grabbed from behind. He felt cold hard fingers cruelly crush his biceps as he was roughly pulled from the floor. "CHAKOTAY!" He saw the anguish on Tom's face, heard the anguish in his voice, but he himself was numb, unable to move. He saw Tom reach out to him, those pale features tight, those hands outstretched as if to stop his captors from taking him out of the cell, but he was hauled out before those hands could touch him. He saw the door banged shut on Tom's tormented face. "Chakotay..." He heard Tom's muffled cry through the closed cell door and the only thing he could remember was the sheer desolation in those pale eyes, as he was dragged into the belly of the dungeon--this dungeon which their captors had chosen for their continual torment. # # Continued in Chap 3b _________________________________________________________________ MSN 8 helps eliminate e-mail viruses. Get 2 months FREE*. http://join.msn.com/?page=features/virus ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: