The BLTS Archive - Threads of Light
Third in the Jack series
by BratKatze (bratkatze@aol.com)

---

Voyager's crew is Paramount's; the warped tortured universe is mine
alone. Again this is rated NC-17 for highly disturbing language and
sexual situations. Proceed carefully.

---

The Alpha shift started much the same as it always did. Kathryn had
arrived early, and was having coffee in her ready room prior to
relieving the Gamma  watch. Tuvok, always early, stood reviewing the
sensor logs from over night  when I came on deck. Harry and Wildman
arrived about ten minutes after me and  had just completed their
relief when Kathryn came on deck. Bouncing with  energy and caffeine
she was full of exuberance for a new day and the  adventures it would
bring. This unfailing joy and excitement for life even  the midst of
our unending quest was one more endearing aspects of her  personality,
it's part of what drew me to her. She glanced at me, then at  Conn and
shook her head smiling. Paris wasn't here yet. He had less than two
minutes before the start of his shift. Tom had always cut it close;
but  before, he had Harry to make sure he got here in time. Since
Harry and  B'Elanna got together Tom had been arriving later and
later. As if he feared  Harry would be waiting for him if he didn't
delay long enough. He usually  made to the Bridge with only seconds to
spare.

Kathryn smiled a general good morning and took her seat next to me.
"Let's  see how close Mr. Paris cuts it this time." she whispered
conspiratorially.

I smiled back but my heart wasn't in it. I was worried. Jack Feeney
had spent  the night in Tom's quarters until about two hours ago. I
had spent a restless  night repeatedly checking his whereabouts about
once an hour for most of the  night. The new rotations Sandrine and I
developed start today and I don't  know why, but my instincts smell
trouble. I tried to think of some excuse to  stop by Tom's quarters
last night but couldn't think of anything that would  make the
remotest bit of sense. Besides I kept reminding myself, Sandrine had
told me Tom was with Feeney of his own choosing. He was a Starfleet
officer,  he could take care of himself. Couldn't he? Alternately I
felt foolish and  anxious.

Kathryn was watching the chrono as the start of shift came and went.
Her  smile started to fade once we past the minute mark.

" Computer location of Lt. Paris."

"Lt. Paris is in his quarters." The computer responded, precise, prim,
and oh so proper.

'Bridge to Lt. Paris." Silence. "Bridge to Lt. Paris, please respond."
She  was turning to Tuvok when Tom's voice came over the link.

"Paris to Bridge." The voice was flat, tired, devoid of life. It
didn't sound  like Tom at all.

"We're you planning on reporting to duty this morning Mr. Paris?"

"Duty? Sorry Captain, what . . . um time is it?" There were a couple
smirks behind hands from the younger Ensigns on duty. Paris sounded
drunk and hung  over but I didn't think he was. In years we'd been out
here I'd never seen  Tom truly drunk. The knot in my stomach
tightened.

"Five minutes past the start of your shift. Mister."

"Shit. Sorry ma'am. I didn't sleep well. Can I call in sick?"

"If you're not feeling well, report immediately to sickbay." Kathryn's
happy  morning mood was gone. She cut Paris a lot of slack but when
she felt he took  advantage of it she got angry very quickly. The ice
in her voice would freeze  a Denebian snow hare.

"I . . . don't need to go to sickbay ma'am. I just . . ."

"Then I expect you to report to my ready-room within 15 minutes. Is
that  understood?"

"Yes ma'am. Paris out."

Kathryn turned to me. "I'll be in my ready-room when Mr. Paris decides
to  report. You have the Bridge Commander."

She didn't even wait for me to acknowledge the transfer before she
stalked  away. Feeney might be the least of Tom's problems.

By chance I caught Harry's eye as I watched her leave. All the
emotions  warring within me were mirrored there. Concern, fear,
suspicion, guilt. I  wondered if he knew about Feeney and if he had,
had he made any attempt to  stop the relationship. Harry saw my gaze
and dropped his eyes.

The minutes waiting for Tom to appear on the Bridge seemed like hours.
Unbidden, images flashed before me as my mind idly speculated on what
might  have happened last night. I had reorganized the entire ship to
separate Tom  from Jack at Sandrine's urging. Suddenly I wasn't sure
it would be enough.  The doubts made me restless and Harry's constant
fidgeting behind me did not  help.

Ten minutes into the wait I knew Tom would not make it. Something was
terribly wrong. Kathryn would have security check on him but that
would make  things worse. Driven by instinct I rose from my chair
desperate to hide the  fear hammering within me. I tried to keep my
voice calm, level.

"I'm going to go see what is detaining Mr. Paris."

"May I remind you Commander that the Lieutenant has yet three point
four  eight minutes remaining before he was instructed to report."
Tuvok frowned at  me as if disapproving of my impatience.

"Computer location of Lieutenant Paris." I asked.

"Lieutenant Paris is in his quarters."

"He's not going to make it Tuvok."

"Then I suggest Commander you let security deal with that issue."
Kathryn was  back on the bridge.

I turned to her. I needed to say the right thing. I needed to be the
one to  check on Tom. Why? I don't know but I did. If I said the wrong
words I'd be  trapped on the bridge and security would do it.

"If Tom is having problems Captain, they should be addressed before
they  impact his performance any more than they have." I glanced for a
moment at  Harry's studiously averted head. This had nothing to do
with Harry but if  using him got me off the Bridge so be it. "As XO
and de facto ship's  counselor, the crew's well being is my
responsibility."

I could see her wavering. Her eyes shifted between me and Tuvok and
back  again. Sending Tuvok and security would leave her in control of
the  situation, sending me would not. There is a subtle war of power
between us.  The war is of her making not mine. I gave up my rights
when I became her XO  and she my Captain but on occasion I find she
still needs to reaffirm that  commitment and remind herself that I am
at her command. My status as once her  equal is an ever present
unspoken thorn between us and every once in a while  she will test me.

But not today.

"Very well Commander. Go check on Mr. Paris and report back to me
immediately."

"Aye Captain." I spoke neutrally keeping the relief from my voice.
Tuvok I noticed, simply raised a brow and said nothing.

Whatever had delayed Tom was a direct result of the rotation changes.
A  direct result of Sandrine's and my interference. I made the journey
to Tom's  cabin as though nothing were wrong, as though my heart
wasn't cold with fear  or my legs shaking. When he did not immediately
answer the chime I overrode  his door code and stepped inside.

The lights in the cabin were dim, but even so I could see something
was very  wrong. In his bedroom Tom was shuffling from the bed like a
broken old man.  He was naked.

"Tom, it's Chakotay" I started gently.

He jumped. "I'm sorry. I overslept, forgot to sent the chrono. Tell
the  Captain I'll be up as soon as possible, I'll work an extra shift.
I'll be  there soon. I just over slept, didn't mean to miss. . ."

Agitated and babbling he was trying to get to the bathroom when he
fell.

I called for full illumination and made my way to side of the bed
where he'd  fallen. The bedroom stank of drink and sex.

"I said I was sorry Commander, please go. I'll report in a few
minutes,  there's no need, I'm fine. Please just . . ." He was frantic
now, trying to  raise himself up before I got near him. He was rising
from his knees when he  fell again.

I hurried around the bed.

Oh Sweet Spirits.

His body was covered with bruises. His arms, his neck, shoulders. I
could  clearly make out the imprint of a thumb and individual fingers
at his waist.  His lips were swollen and there was a faint
discoloration to one side and at  his chin. But it was his eyes,
frantic with fear that burned me.

He saw my expression and dropped them. He was shaking.

"I was running a climbing program, and I fell, stupid really, didn't
hook the  harness in right. Hurt last night and I couldn't sleep. I'm
up now. I'm fine.  Really, Chakotay." He was desperate to get away
from me now crawling  frantically to the bathroom. His thighs were
filthy. Matted with flecks and  streaks of drying blood and . . .

I was going to kill the bastard.

I bent down next to him. He pulled away from me trying to hide
himself.

"I'm fine Chakotay. I just fell. I'll be on duty in . . ."

I reached a hand to him, laying it lightly on his shoulder. He was
freezing.  As gently as I could I said "I know about Jack."

He stopped his frantic efforts to flee from me. The look in his eyes
chilled me. Guilt, embarrassment, resignation. "I. . . um . . .sorry
Commander what  can I say, busy night. I'll put myself on report for
dereliction of duty." He  said in a poor imitation of the usual Paris
bravado.

"Tom."

"No excuse for being late for duty. Tell . . . tell the Captain I'm
sorry.  Won't happen again. I'll report . . ."

"Tom, I'm taking you to sickbay."

"No!" he fairly screamed the word despite the catch in his voice. "I'm
fine.  Just over did it a little. You know how it is." He shrugged.

"Spirits, Tom you're still bleeding. That's not 'just' overdoing it. I
need  to take you to sickbay."

"Please Chakotay." He reached out and clutched my arms desperately. "I
don't  need to go to sick bay. I'm OK. I just need a shower. Really."

"Tom, you need medical attention, you're hurt."

"There's a regenerator on the bed. I'll be fine."

A regenerator at the ready implied a pattern. That this had happened
before,  was routine. There'd been other mornings like this where he'd
been hurt,  except Tom had been alone. That Feeney had left him,
knowing the state he was  in. I reached out and gently touched his
face. "Tom how long has this be  going on?"

He flinched, refusing to meet my eyes and shrugged.

"Come on I'm taking you to sickbay."

"No. Please Chakotay. Don't." he begged me. His eyes were a curious
mixture  of resignation and fear. I could see he expected me not to
listen, and take  him to sickbay. He was pleading yet expected he me
not to listen. I tried to  shut down image of Jack hitting him at
Sandrine's last week. I tried to halt  the thoughts that cascaded
through my head, images of Tom begging Feeney to  stop as Feeney
inflicted himself on Tom. I doubted Feeney would listen. I did.

"All right. Let's get you a shower."

"Thank you." Two simple words said softly but meaning a world. I had
to close  eyes a moment.

"Come on." I helped him to his feet. He could barely stand let alone
walk.  With one arm around his abused waist and one of his over my
shoulder I half  carried him to the shower. I leaned him against the
tiles as I started the  water. His eyes were shut, breathing ragged,
his body shaking. This  vulnerable creature nude before me was not any
Tom Paris I knew. I don't want  to know what Feeney did to him. My
imagination is bad enough. I suspect that  if I know the truth I will
need to kill him.

I ran the water till it was slightly warmer than skin temperature,
just  enough to take off the chill. Gently I led him into it. For
several moments  he just stood there, letting the spray run over him,
the water swirling  slightly pinkish at his feet. I pressed a cloth
and soap into one trembling  hand. For a moment he looked at me, eyes
blank with no recognition, then he  nodded. I left him there, closing
the bathroom door behind me, allowing Tom  his privacy while I called
the Captain and tried to not explain the situation  to her.

"Chakotay to Janeway"

"Well Commander, I was about to send out search parties for you." Her
voice  was curt, icy; she was angry.

"I'm sorry Captain, it's taken longer than I expected. I want to
relieve Tom  from duty today."

"Is Mr. Paris ill? Then he should report to sickbay."

"Tom is not ill, but I don't think he should work his shift today. He
can  make up the time."

"On what basis are you judging Lieutenant Paris unfit for only today,
Commander?"

On my basis as your XO Kathryn. On my experience as the captain of my
own  ship. I'm doing my job, the only one you'll allow me. Can't you
let me do  even that?

"On the basis of my judgment of what is best to this ship and a member
of her crew." I controlled my anger but even so, some of it must have
slipped  through.

In my mind's eye I could see her eyebrow rise, her back stiffen.

"Very well Commander. Tell Mr. Paris he is confined to quarters until
the  start of the Alpha shift tomorrow. He is to report promptly, no
last second  appearances. Is that understood?"

"I'll make it clear to him."

"Good. Report to my ready room when you are finished Commander."

She was furious but I didn't care.

"Thank you Captain."

I turned my attention to the stained and soiled sheets on the bed. The
look  of them made me sick. Images of Tom with Feeney over him flashed
over me. Of  Feeney holding him down. Of Feeney . . . I ripped the
sheets from the bed,  heedless of the collection of small pillows that
went flying. I didn't even  dump the sheets in the fresher I just
trashed them.

I replicated some new sheets for Tom. Soft ones, like those I chose
for my  own use not the Standard issue he's been using. I'd just
finished making the  bed when the bathroom door opened. He'd wrapped a
towel around his waist  hiding the worst of the bruising. He looked
slightly more alive.

He was looking at the bed rather curiously as if unsure what I was
doing.

"You needed new sheets." I didn't mention why.

"Oh. It's Ok Chakotay I can take it from here. Tell the Captain I'll
report  . . . "

"I've cleared it with her. You're off duty till tomorrow. Just don't
be  late." I saw the panic start to rise in his eyes. "I didn't tell
her why,  just that you needed the time."

"Thank you." He paused a moment absently playing with the edges of his
towel.  "Why Chakotay? I mean it's not like . . ." He shrugged not
finishing the  thought.

"Not like what Tom?"

"We're friends or anything."

"Who says?"

'"Come on Chakotay, you don't even like me very much."

"Once perhaps. Who's to say I haven't changed my mind."

I thought I saw something flash in his eyes then it was gone and he
was  shuffling towards the bed. "Thanks I can take it form here."

"Lay down and I'll run the regenerator."

"It's Ok. I can handle it."

"Tom, you can barely move. If I have to make it an order I will. Now
lay  down."

"Aye sir." He grinned at me, a ghost of his usual self. Easing himself
gingerly on to the bed he stretched to lay upon his stomach. His
fingers  played upon the sheets. "Soft. These aren't Standard issue."

"Old Indian recipe." I answered with a smile. I programmed the
regenerator,  it began to hum. " Tom, I'm going to take the towel off,
ok?"

"Chakotay. I'm fine. It's OK."

Gently I opened the towel. The bruises seemed more angry now than
before. I  began running the regenerator over his body.

"I can do this Chakotay." He seemed suddenly embarrassed to be lying
here  naked with me.

"Shhhh. Lie still. I'll take care of this."

It took me over an hour to heal the worst of it. There were bruises on
the  bruises, scratches, a bite and the tearing. That was the worst of
it. The  angry tissues were horribly swollen and torn. There was no
way sex could have  been pleasant for him given the damage. In fact I
dare say it must have been  incredibly painful. He was still bleeding
a little. I almost called the  doctor but he grabbed my hand and
stopped me.

"It's O.K. Chakotay. There's a little hemorrhaging that's all. Set it
at 12  and make two passes. It will still be sore for a few days but
I'll live."

"Tom this isn't right."

"Chakotay. . ."

"Shhh, I'm the one with the regenerator let me talk. Feeney hurt you
Tom.  Hurt you badly. Tell me this hasn't happened before."

He closed his eyes and a small tremor ran through his body. "Not like
this.  Things got out of hand. That's all."

I thought of the bruises on his arms. Marks of restraint. My blood
turned to  ice. As gently as I could, I asked "Did he rape you?"

"No! It wasn't like that Chakotay. We . . um . . ." He whispered
hesitantly,  "sex with Jack is rough sometimes, we got carried away."
He said softly  turning his face from mine as if ashamed.

We? Somehow I didn't think Feeney was sporting bruises and in need of
a  regenerator.

"Tom, can I ask you a question? Do you want Jack to hurt you like
this?"

He shrugged. "You wouldn't understand Commander."

Commander again. The Paris walls were coming back. I sighed. "Try me
Tom.  I'm not the stiff-neck prude people make me out to be."

He smiled but tossed me a look that said "Yeah, right."

"Please."

He rolled onto his back, wincing visibly as he did so. I ran the
regenerator  over his ribs and on the bruises at his waist as he
slowly relaxed. As he  lay there before me the tension ebbed between
us. For the first time since  being tossed out here in the Delta
Quadrant we were completely comfortable  with each other.

"I don't expect you understand." He whispered after a while.

"Try me."

"When I'm with Jack, Chakotay there's nothing else. Everything
disappears and  the sex becomes everything. There's nothing else but
the feel of his body  over mine, covering me, hiding me. His hands
touching me, his dick inside of  me, stretching me, filling me.
There's nothing else. I don't have to say  anything, worry about doing
something wrong. Jack's in control, if he needs  or wants something
he'll take care of it. I have no responsibility, no  pressure to do
what's right or expected . No past to carry and no future to  worry
about. I'm free of Tom Paris, I can just be. Except for flying it's
the  freest I've been in a long time. Like I said pretty crazy."

"No" I said gently. "not so crazy." But terribly sad, that someone
with so  much to offer as Tom could so desperately need escape, he'd
accept abuse as  means to achieve it. It made my heart ache and I
fought the urge to gather  him into my arms.

"What about the pain?" I had to ask.

He blushed and averted his eyes. "I usually don't feel it till after."

I closed my eyes as he spoke. Several things were suddenly terribly
clear to  me. Tom had more problems than his need to escape himself.
Feeney was using  him, badly. At no time did Tom express any sexual
satisfaction from these  encounters. He simply spoke in terms of
physical touch how Feeney used his  body. I'd seen what Feeney was
like on the quai. He just wanted a body to use  for his pleasure and
in his need Tom had handed himself to Feeney completely.  Feeney was
taking but I'm not sure Tom understood completely what he was  giving.
'I usually don't feel it till after' scared me. It meant Tom had
unexpectedly felt pain this time. Feeney had escalated his abuse and
Tom had  accepted it. Which meant it would continue. Tom never
actually admitted to  desiring pain, he'd just accepted it as the
price of his escape. I was fairly  certain Tom's discomfort if
expressed would not have stopped Feeney, which  meant I could be
looking at rape. I just didn't know if Tom had said or knew  he could
say stop.

By the time I was finished, Tom was asleep. It felt odd. Having him
there,  lying naked, in front of me so fast asleep. It spoke of a deep
trust or a  complete exhaustion. Either of which roused something in
me, something  primal, protective, possessive. I watched him for a few
moments drinking in  the slow rise and fall of his chest, they way his
hands curled and uncurled  against the sheets, the beauty of his lean
body. The long legs, firm thighs,  slim waist, the rose colored
nipples, and elegant fingers. I wanted him. I  wanted him as much as I
did that night at Sandrine's. I ached to shed my  clothes and cover
him with my body. I wanted to be inside him, making him  moan and
writhe with pleasure beneath me. I wanted him to press himself
against me and call my name. I wanted to spill myself in him and call
him  mine.

With difficulty I stepped away. I slipped a pillow beneath his head
and  covered him with a sheet. He made a soft nestling noise but did
not wake. I  called for the lights to dim and left him. If I didn't go
now, I might not be  able to.

Luck if not decorum was with me. Kathryn had been called to
Astrometrics and  would likely be there till the end of shift. I
avoided Harry's concerned gaze  as I relieved Tuvok and settled into
the command chair. I wanted Tom  physically, I couldn't deny that any
more but did I want him as a lover with  all the emotional commitment
and support that would entail? I didn't know. If  I only wanted to use
his body I would be no better than Feeney. But no matter  what I
wanted I knew I had to get Tom away from Jack. I had a week to think
of something. I decided to start with Tuvok, after all Feeney was part
of  Security and reported directly to the Vulcan.

---

Discussing the matter professionally with Tuvok was another matter
entirely.  Under his impassive gaze I tried to explain what I had seen
at Sandrine's and  Tom's condition when I found him in his cabin. I
kept all mention of my  reaction from the conversation though I felt
myself blush as I described the  acts and the bruising on Tom's body.
I informed him I wanted Feeney kept away  from Tom.

Tuvok listened, polite as always, before telling me it was impossible.

Incensed, I sputtered angrily. "Your Security Chief assaulted a member
of the  senior Command staff. I would think such behavior deserving of
a reprimand at  the very least."

"Commander, I am aware that the Lieutenant and Chief Feeney have
entered into  a sexual liaison. While I may question the
appropriateness of the  relationship, given the disparity between
their ranks. I am not aware of any  complaints from either party
regarding the attentions of the other. You say  you observed Mr. Paris
exiting Sandrine's, did he seem coerced? Or did he  exit of his own
free will?"

"He went of his own accord Tuvok but that's not the point."

"That is precisely the point as you say Commander. As a member of the
senior  staff one can safely deduce that that Lieutenant is not being
coerced by  rank. If he left to join Chief Feeney of his own accord I
can only presume  that he is a willing participant in the act you
witnessed. While the actions  may not be to your tastes, no criminal
act seems to have occurred. It is a  private matter." The distaste in
his voice was evident.

"Tuvok you did not see them I did."

"I am merely presenting the facts Commander."

"The facts are the bruises and other injuries I saw. And the fact that
Tom  needed medical treatment and was unfit for duty."

"Did Lieutenant Paris seek any treatment?"

"No he refused."

"Then I would speculate Commander that the Lieutenant wished to keep
this  matter private. If you wish I will speak to the Chief regarding
the ardor of  their sexual encounters. If the completion of the act
renders Mr. Paris unfit  for duty then perhaps it is a matter I need
to address."

It was like talking to a bulkhead. "Tuvok, Tom was injured to such an
extent  that intercourse would have been terribly painful. There is
something wrong.  I can't believe he'd willingly accept that."

"Commander I am aware that the Lieutenant recently ended a rather
volatile  relationship with Lieutenant Torres. At several points
during that  relationship Mr. Paris was forced to seek medical
treatment for injuries  sustained during mating activities. Several
broken collar bones, a wrist, two  minor concussions, and dermal
regeneration for Klingon love bites . None of  the injuries you
described treating seem quite as severe. Perhaps you would  accuse Lt.
Torres of sexual misconduct as well."

There are moments when I would cheerfully kill that Vulcan and his
supreme  logic. How could I explain the difference between bruises
earned making love  to B'Elanna and those earned being while being
pinned down by Feeney. I  couldn't. To Tuvok's logic the only
difference was that Tom sought treatment  for one but not the other.
And I couldn't begin to explain to him the  implications of what that
meant.

The frustration must have shown in my face. For a moment the Vulcan's
impassive mask thawed.

"If Lieutenant Paris is, as you say, having a problem with Chief
Feeney he  should speak with me. Until a complaint is filed, there is
nothing I can do.  While several crew members have come to me
regarding the Chief's ardor in  regard to intercourse no complaints
have ever been filed. I will admit to  having disregarded most of the
conversations as simply human emotiveness and  what is defined as sour
grapes. The Chief's record is clear. I said as much  to your former
Maquis crewmate Andrea Martinelli. Hers was the only  allegation I
thought might bear some weight but it was never pursued."

"Martinelli was involved with Feeney?"

"Yes, a few years ago. But when she refused to press charges or even
inform  you, her former commander of the complaint, I considered the
entire matter  dropped. Your continued ignorance of the matter only
confirms my suspicions."

I didn't know what to do. Talking with Tuvok had been more frustration
than  use. I scanned the rotation logs only to find Andrea was on duty
for several  more hours. So I went to see Dalby. More than Neelix,
even more so than  Tuvok, Dalby would know what was going on. He would
be gathering and using  the information for his own use but it would
be accurate and fresh. As a  Maquis fighter he was beyond compare, but
as a human being I found much to be  desired in my former crewman.

I found him at Sandrine's. Sitting alone in a darkened corner with a
drink,  his chair leaned into the wall. Just above his head a small
holographic  spider spinned an intricate web.

"What brings you down to chat with members of the lower decks,
Commander?" He  threw my rank at me like and insult. Even now, after
all these years, to him  it still was. I let it pass.

"What do you of Jackson Feeney?"

Instantly his face grew hard, angry. The chair he was leaning in
clumped to  the floor. "Who's that son of bitch after now?"

His vehemence surprised me. "Just tell me about him."

"Feeney's a predator Commander. He's into a lot of messed up shit and
a very  dangerous customer."

"If he's as bad as you say, how come his service record is clean? I
reviewed  it this morning and it's practically spotless."

"I don't know Commander, maybe cause he's damn good at licking Tuvok's
Vulcan  ass. Or he just knows how to keep people from filing
complaints. Or maybe,  just maybe, your precious Captain and Security
Chief don't want to hear any  complaints against one of their own."

"Enough. Just tell me about Feeney."

Dalby took a swig of his drink, I was pretty sure it wasn't synthenol.
"When  we first came on board he gave us a lot trouble. Light
harassment but nothing  we couldn't handle. He wasn't the worst of it.
And before you ask why we  didn't come to you, you were busy trying to
make things work with Captain.  Anyway it's not like we had that many
options. We hated the Fleeters, they  hated us. It was pretty even.
About a month after the array was destroyed  Feeney and Ayala got
together. It lasted two nights. You know Ayala. He likes  it rough on
occasion. Well Jack was too rough for him. Ayala likes it even  but
for Jack it's on his terms only. Anyway, Feeney started making his
life  hell. Setting him up and doing things to provoke that damn
temper."

I remembered those early days. There were times I despaired of the two
crews  ever coming together. "Is this about the time I had to
discipline Ayala and  confine him to quarters?"

"You were too busy playing Starfleet posterboy and jumping through
Janeway's  hoops to listen. So we didn't bother." He said it
carelessly but I could  still feel the hatred and resentment in his
tone, even now. What hurt me most  was the fact that he was right. I'd
bent over backwards to accommodate  Janeway in those days, demanding
sacrifices on the part of my crew to make  the union work. I'd used up
a lot of my good will with Maquis to help  Kathryn, placing her and
Voyager first. I suppose a little part of me still  hated her for
simply expecting it. Another reason she and I were doomed as a
couple.

The little spider had finished her web and was gracefully lowering
herself  past Dalby's shoulder.

"Anyway, after it was over with Ayala, Feeney went sniffing after
Martinelli.  He was real smooth and charming at first and she fell for
him. Then he  started getting ugly and she started wearing bruises."

"Why didn't she come to me?" The question felt foolish even as the
words left  my mouth.

"As I said you were busy, Sir. But she did go to Tuvok and asked to
file a  complaint. Tuvok looked into it. . . .What the hell?"

The spider had crawled onto his shoulder and was making her way down
his arm.  "Damn bugs. Who programmed this shit anyway?" He flung the
spider from him.  She landed near Neelix who picked her up and placing
her on his hand  proceeded to have a very animated conversation with
his new friend.

Dalby shook his head in disgust and drained his drink. "As I said
Tuvok  questioned Feeney. By the time it was all over, Feeney was
cleared."

"How?"

"As I said he's good. And he gets the benefit of the doubt."

I was starting to get sick to my stomach.

"About a week after he was cleared Jack went to see Andrea. He nearly
killed  her Commander. He beat her, raped her, and nearly strangled
her. And the  worse part. When he was through he had her convinced it
was all her fault.  That she had asked for it, that she wanted it,
that she deserved it."

I was going to be sick

"Before you ask. She refused to file any complaints or see the doctor.
She  was either too scared or shamed. So I went to Feeney and told him
to lay off.  The bastard laughed and asked what I intended to do,
'file a complaint'? I  told him that if he ever touched her or any of
the Maquis, I'd seen him  starting to look at Gerron, I wouldn't
bother with any complaints. I'd kill  him. I'd sneak into his cabin
and slit his throat from ear to ear. He  laughed and told me to try
it. Two nights later I did. I cut him just below  the left ear. A week
later after he redid his security, I crept in and cut  him below the
right ear. He's left the Maquis pretty much alone since. I know  Carey
pretty much dangled him over an open plasma stream when he tried
something similar with one of the techs down in Engineering. Who is he
after  now? I thought Paris was pretty much his steady fuck."

"Paris?"

"On again, off again since a few months after Andrea. It's one reason
I knew  he and B'Elanna weren't going to happen for good."

"How did you find out?"

"About Feeney and Paris? Hell, Commander half the ship knows. At least
the  half below command level. Jack's not the most discrete sort when
it comes to  bragging about his fucks. So it's pretty much gotten
around that he's doing  Paris pretty much when and how he wants now
that B'Elanna's out of the  picture. Besides they've been caught once
or twice sneaking a quickie between  shifts. I think being seen having
an officer on his knees sucking his dick  really gets Feeney's rocks
off. But if he's moving on I'd like to know about  it."

I was most definitely going to be sick.

"Did it ever occur to you that Feeney might be doing to Paris what he
did to Andrea?"

Dalby shrugged. "Probably. But that's not my concern. I watch out for
the Maquis Commander. Paris isn't my problem and quite frankly I'd
rather have  Feeney play his games with Paris than anyone else on the
ship especially a  Maquis. If it means Feeney stays away from the
Maquis let him fuck Paris  black and blue every night. I don't care.
Paris is a liar and a traitor. He's  been around, if you know what I
mean. If he's still with Feeney after this  time either he likes it or
he can handle it."

I thought back to the shaken creature I'd helped to the shower this
morning.  'No he can't handle it.'

I would.

The question was how.

---

The End