The BLTS Archive- Distorted Image
by Mandragora (mandragora@blueyonder.co.uk)

---

Feedback and (constructive) criticism most welcome (please!).

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns everything.  I own nothing, except for
this story.

WARNING: this is not a 'pleasant' story.  Lot's of nasty things
happen, including rape, torture, angst (in spades) and a gratuitous 
sheep reference. Definitely no snugglebunnies.  And no, this is not a 
h/c story (or at least not in the traditional sense).  If the above 
upsets you, then don't read it!

I'm not sure whom I should blame for this!  Smara definitely deserves
a lot of the 'credit', for a conversation we had regarding Chakotay,
which provided a moment of 'inspiration'.  I must also mention a 
wonderful TOS story called "Remirrored" by P B Wrapper and 
Skazitelnitsky, which set me wondering "What if..."

Many thanks also to my beta readers Jane and Smara, for all their help
and input.  Extra thanks to Smara who performed well above and beyond
the call of duty in revising the story for grammatical errors (any
remaining ones are my sole responsibility), "Britishisms" and for her
valiant efforts to persuade me to adopt American spelling (no, *of
course* it didn't work! <g>).

---

Lieutenant Tom Paris was flying the Shuttle Cochrane through a
particularly tricky asteroid field in the Delta Quadrant.  He was
concentrating hard, as the shuttle interwove its way through the
field.  Seeing that the end was in sight, he grinned fiercely and
touched the communicator panel.

"Paris to Chakotay," he said.

"Chakotay here," was the reply, "is something up?"

"Just thought I'd let you know that I'll be exiting the field in, oh,
30
seconds and counting," Tom said, casually.

On the Shuttle Garibaldi, Chakotay shook his head, half in
resignation, half in amusement.  Paris had traversed the asteroid
field in exceptional time; the Commander himself was more than four
minutes away from the exit.  "Show off!" was all he said, to which
Tom's response was a laugh.

The Commander and the Lieutenant were both on their way back to
Voyager, bearing supplies.  The nearby star system had orbiting its 
sun a planet inhabited by a friendly race called the Lrycians.  
Unfortunately, there was an extremely large, very dense asteroid 
field, which completely surrounded the system, too dense for Voyager 
to traverse without risking damage, but small enough for a shuttle to 
get through. In order to take on as many supplies as possible, Captain 
Janeway had decided to send two shuttles, which were each filled to 
the brim with foodstuffs, technical supplies and raw materials.  As 
the asteroid field was tricky to navigate, even for the smaller and 
more manoeuvrable shuttles, she had decided to send Voyager's best 
pilots, Paris and Chakotay.

As the Cochrane exited the field, Tom frowned at his instruments,
noting that there was some sort of disturbance ahead.  As he attempted 
to determine precisely what it was, with a suddenness that took him
completely by surprise, a yawning wormhole opened directly in front of
him.  Paris frantically attempted to reverse course, away from the
wormhole, but felt the shuttle being pulled irrevocably into its
gaping maw.  He attempted to raise Chakotay, to warn him of the
obstacle ahead, before Cochrane was sucked into the wormhole, but was
only able to state, "Chakotay, wormhole ahead," before the shuttle was
pulled inexorably into the entrance.

The shuttle was buffeted on all sides as Tom attempted to control the
flight.  He was thrown out of his seat on several occasions, at one
point gashing his forehead, swiping impatiently at the blood that
threatened to fall into his eyes.  Then came a particularly violent
knock to the shuttle, which sent Tom flying out of the seat, to once
more hit his head, but this time inducing unconsciousness.  When he
awoke, groggy with concussion, he staggered to the instrument panel to
determine his new heading.  According to the instrument readings his
disbelieving eyes beheld he was in the Alpha Quadrant!   He sat there
stunned for several minutes, checking and rechecking the readings. 
Yes, he was definitely in the Alpha Quadrant.

Tom gulped and attempted to hail Starfleet, but got no response on
standard channels.  He frowned in puzzlement, as according to the
charts he wasn't that far from Deep Space 9.  Why weren't they
answering?  He had the sudden, horrible thought that maybe something
disastrous had happened to the Federation since Voyager had been
thrown into the Delta Quadrant.  He decided to point the shuttle
towards Deep Space 9, but be cautious about raising the station, he
would see the way the land lay (so to speak) before attempting to
raise them again.  He was also worried about Chakotay, had he been
sucked in as well?  He attempted to raise Chakotay's shuttle, but with
no success.

Tom got the med-kit from the back of the shuttle, cleaned himself up,
and treated his mild concussion.  //OK, Tommy-boy,// he thought to
himself, //slow and easy, that's the way to go.//  Suddenly, without
warning, a large ship shimmered into view above him, it's size and
bulk dwarfing the much smaller shuttle.  Tom frowned at the ship in
puzzlement, the design was vaguely reminiscent of a Federation design,
but somehow... twisted, this ship looked positively threatening, the
normal clean lines of Federation design were distorted, so that the
ship bore a distinct resemblance to a predator, its two warp nacelles
were curved, to resemble talons and the ship was dark green in colour,
not the usual white or grey.  The name written on the hull in
Federation Standard was ISS Extreme.

The ship hailed him:  "Extreme to unknown vehicle.  State your name
and designation."

"This is Lieutenant Tom Paris on the Shuttle Cochrane.  Assigned to
Voyager."

"Stand by Cochrane," was the response.

Tom was beginning to get a very uneasy feeling about this; the abrupt
termination of the conversation did not instil confidence and what was
with the ISS designation?  His comm unit beeped again.

"Cochrane, fly into shuttle bay 2, here are the co-ordinates," was the
terse order.

Tom examined his sensor readings of the Extreme.  They showed, as he
had expected, that there was no possibility of making a run for it, as 
he was vastly outgunned and outclassed, there was no way he could get
away from this ship.  With an inward sigh he acknowledged the order
and complied.

On landing, once the shuttle bay had pressurised, Tom sat still in his
chair for a while, reluctant to move.  All his well-developed
instincts for danger were screaming at him, but he couldn't sit here
forever.  He rose from the chair and opened the door.  As he stepped
out from the shuttle he froze. There, standing with what he assumed
were phasers pointed at him, were four security guards, Tom recognised
the type, they all looked vaguely Klingon, but they were not wearing
any type of Klingon uniform he recognised, and the phasers...they were
black, large, and distinctly threatening. The security guards were all
dressed in black, with a good deal of dark grey body armour on top. 
These people were not taking any chances. Tom had a very uncomfortable
feeling about this, he remembered reading at the Academy about
alternate universes which various members of Starfleet had interacted
with over the years.  Either there had been a vast change in Starfleet
policy and design over the four years Voyager had been in the Delta
Quadrant, or else this was an alternate universe, and, from the
indications to date, not a very pleasant one.   He felt his heart
sink, oh shit, what was he to do now, stranded not just in another
quadrant, but possibly in another universe?

As Tom stood just outside the shuttle, concentrating on not making any
threatening moves, the door to the corridor opened and five humans
walked in.  Tom's jaw dropped; one of them was Chakotay!

He was dressed in stark, unrelieved black, his jump suit was form
fitting, showing off his powerful physique, and he wore four pips. 
//He's a Captain// Tom thought numbly.  This was not the Chakotay he
knew; his whole demeanour was that of a man who knew he was feared,
whereas the Chakotay Tom was familiar with demanded respect, not fear. 
And the tattoo, it was different somehow, larger, and the design, Tom
couldn't put his finger on it, but again it had been twisted, so that
it appeared as vaguely unpleasant.  It had the effect of making
Chakotay's darkly handsome features appear sinister.  Chakotay smiled. 
It was not a pleasant smile.

"This must be my lucky day," he said mockingly, the tenor voice more
edged than Tom was used to hearing.  "I never thought I'd again get
the opportunity to get my... hands on Tom Paris.  Lieutenant Tom 
Paris, hmm, last I heard you were a Captain.  Oh, but you're not my 
Tom Paris are you, not dressed like that.  So I'd have been guessing 
alternate universe, even if the quantum signature didn't confirm it.  
You're not the first visitor we've had from an alternate universe, but 
you're surely one of the most... welcome."

Tom stood frozen, thinking frantically what to say.  His guess was
evidently right, but he was not happy about it.  All indications were
that these people bore little resemblance to their counterparts in his
universe.

"Nothing to say?"  Chakotay continued, when it became obvious that the
Lieutenant was not going to say anything immediately.  "And that's so
unlike you too. Oh, but you're not you, are you?  Don't worry though,
you're the next best thing."

Tom found his voice.  "Perhaps you can fill me in.  You say my, er,
counterpart's a Captain.  In what service?"

"Why in the service of our glorious Empire of course.  And your
counterpart isn't *just* a Captain, no, no he's a member of the
aristocracy, one of the elite, a cousin to the Empress no less!  But
*you*" Chakotay moved close to Paris.  "Well, I don't know who you are
in your universe but in this one, you're mine."

The irreverent part of Tom couldn't help thinking that this version of
Chakotay sounded just like a villain in a bad holodeck programme, but
the rest of him was shit scared.  He was totally in this man's power,
and somehow he got the distinct impression that this Chakotay was none
too well disposed to Paris' counterpart.  Whatever had happened here,
it was obvious that neither the Paris or Chakotay of this universe was
in the Delta Quadrant.

"I need to get back to my universe..." Tom began, thinking inwardly,
//Shit, I might as well ask, see what the reaction is.//

"No, no," Chakotay interrupted.  "First rule, you don't speak unless
spoken to or unless you've been given permission.  Now I realise that
you'll find this difficult to remember, but believe me, we'll get
along much better the quicker you learn this little rule."

"What?" Tom exclaimed.

'Slap!'

Tom found himself sitting on the floor, his ears ringing and blood
trickling from his mouth, staring up at Chakotay, who was shaking his
head in disgust.

"A slow learner," he said, observing with pleasure the look of anger
on Tom's face as he got to his feet.  "Defiant too.  Oh believe me,
taming you is going to be a pleasure!"  He turned to one of the men
standing near him, a lieutenant whom Tom now realised he recognised as
a member of the Maquis on Voyager, a normally pleasant, gregarious
man, who spoke with a British accent, called Miller.  "Prepare him,
and bring him to my quarters at 20.00 hours."  With that Chakotay
turned on his heels and left the shuttle bay.

"You, Paris," Miller said.  "Come with me."

When Tom made no move, the nearest guard prodded him with his rifle
and he reluctantly moved.  What ever happened next, Tom had a feeling
that it was not going to be pleasant.

---

In the Delta Quadrant Chakotay had noted with alarm Tom's message.  He
attempted to slow his exit from the asteroid field, but without
success, the force exerted by the wormhole was sufficient to pull both
the shuttle and some small asteroids into the wormhole.  It was a
rough ride, although the wormhole was a little more stable than when
the Cochrane had been pulled in. Chakotay's shuttle and several
asteroids were spat out into the Alpha Quadrant, not far from where
the Cochrane had exited.  Chakotay too checked his readings in
disbelief, attempted to raise Tom, but was similarly unsuccessful. 
His attempts to raise Starfleet met with no response and he too,
noting the co-ordinates, set off for Deep Space 9.  He frowned as he
noticed that the chronometer appeared to be not working properly, it
seemed to be frozen.

Chakotay checked his sensor readings; there was a ship approaching. 
He looked at the shape revealed as it came into range in admiration; 
it was beautiful, sleek and graceful, like a bird.  He did not 
recognise the design.

The ship hailed him: "Voice of the Prophets to unknown vessel.  Please
state your course and designation."

"I'm Commander Chakotay of the Federation starship Voyager, presently
on
shuttle Garibaldi."

There was a pause and then the voice from the ship said, "Commander
Chakotay, you said?"

"That's right."

"Please stand by."

Chakotay's viewscreen lit up and he gasped at the sight that he saw,
it was Ro Laren, who he had last seen as a member of the Maquis. 
"Laren, is that you?"

The woman looked surprised at the familiar address.  "You know me?"

"Of course.  Laren it's me, Chakotay.  We've been lost in the Delta
Quadrant.  But what're you doing on that ship?"

"I'm Captain Ro Laren, commanding officer of the Voice of the
Prophets, of the Alliance."

"The Alliance?  What's that?  And what's happened to the Maquis?"

"The what?  Why's a Captain of the Empire on his own in a
shuttlecraft?  And I don't recognise the insignia."

"Empire?"

The two of them stared at one another in equal bewilderment, until one
of the officers on the bridge of Ro's ship said something to her in a
low voice.  She asked Chakotay to stand by, and muted the sound as she
had a discussion with her officers.  Communications were reopened as
Ro said: "Commander.  We believe that you've come from a different
universe.  The quantum signature is different from ours.  You say that
you know me?"

"That's right," Chakotay responded, still trying to take in the fact
that he was in the Alpha Quadrant, but not his Alpha Quadrant.  "We're
friends, have fought together in the Maquis."

Captain Ro hesitated.  "It looks like there's a lot of differences
between the universes.  Would you like to come on board, I think that
we need to talk."

Chakotay accepted her invitation, and manoeuvred the shuttle on board
the lovely ship.  As he exited he became uneasily aware that there
were several security guards present.  They did not have their weapons
drawn, but held themselves ready.  Ro was also there to greet him. 
She welcomed him on board and asked him to follow her, attended by a
couple of security guards, and her First Officer, who, to Chakotay's
shock, was a Cardassian called Dukat. 

//Ro with a Cardassian and Dukat at that!// he thought incredulously,
but said nothing. 

They exchanged pleasantries, as Chakotay walked with Ro through the
corridors of the ship.  He admired what he saw. The crew was
multi-species, some of which Chakotay didn't recognise, the decor was
both beautiful and functional, more pleasing to the eye than
Federation design, which could be a little spartan.  Many of the
people he passed nodded or smiled, others looked at him warily.  There
were many Bajorans and not a few Cardassians traversing the corridors,
which made Chakotay blink more than a little.  Wherever he was, it was
self evident that matters were very different here than in his own
universe.  He followed Ro and Dukat into a conference room; the
security guards remained outside. Ro was a cordial host, asking
Chakotay if he wanted refreshments.  He accepted a glass of water and
sat down at the table, joined by the two officers.

"I take it that you haven't heard of the Empire?" Ro questioned.

"That's right," Chakotay confirmed.  "I'm from the Federation, the
United Federation of Planets."

"What kind of an organisation is that?" Dukat asked.

Chakotay explained the rationale of the Federation, that it consisted
of many planets and races, in peaceful co-existence, which also 
supported one another.  He said that it had originally been founded by 
Humans and Vulcans and spoke with pride about the Federation's 
attempts to explore, to make contact with other races and, if 
sufficiently advanced, invite then to join them.  He explained that he 
was in the exploration and military branch of the Federation, called 
Starfleet, and the basis of the Prime Directive.

Both Ro and Dukat had nodded in agreement with much that Chakotay had
said.

"Your Federation sounds much like our Alliance," Ro said, although of
course Humans are not part of the Alliance."

"They're not?"

"No, the Human civilisation, and I use the word loosely, is the
Empire". She sighed.  "And I regret to tell you that it is not a 
pleasant organisation.  The Empire's rationale is conquest, dominion, 
over others."

"The Federation has had contact with other universes before, one of
which similarly had an Empire, maybe this very universe," Chakotay
said thoughtfully.  "From what I heard, it wasn't a great place to 
visit."

"You said that we have fought together?" Ro questioned.

"Hmm, your counterpart and I, I guess, but yes, that's correct."

"So in your universe we're not enemies?"

"No, we're not.  Does this mean that in this universe we are?"

"Your counterpart is a particularly ruthless Captain of the Empire. 
He commands a destroyer class starship.  I think it's safe to say that
we're not friends."

"I see," Chakotay said slowly.  This was disturbing news.

"You mentioned the Maquis earlier.  What is it?" Ro questioned.

Chakotay sighed.  "In my universe, the Cardassians have an empire of
sorts. They're in conflict with the Federation.  A peace treaty was
signed which gave several planets settled by Federation citizens in
the disputed zone to the control of the Cardassians.  My home planet
was one of them.  The Maquis was formed to fight the Cardassians, you
and I were both members."

Dukat laughed.  "That's ironic, in this universe, Cardassia was
assimilated by the Empire.  We're rebelling against it with the
assistance of the Alliance, which was formed initially by the
Bajorans."

"In my universe, Cardassia and Bajor are bitter enemies.  Cardassia
assimilated Bajor, but the Bajorans recently won their freedom.  The
Federation is trying to help them get back on their feet.  The
Cardassian occupation left the planet in a mess.  In my universe it
would be very unlikely to see a Bajoran and a Cardassian working
together."

"Hmm," pondered Ro.  "It's almost as if every thing is the other way
round. Now then," she said briskly, "we need to see how to get you
back."

"Thank you," Chakotay said.  "Although I'm surprised that you're
willing to help me so readily, given what you've told me."

"It's what we do," explained Ro.  "Help people.  Besides, we checked
your shuttle's records while you were coming aboard.  They were in
accordance with what you've told us.  Although I am a little confused. 
You said you and I were in the Maquis, but you're also a member of
Starfleet."

Chakotay sighed.  "That's also a long story," he said, explaining how
he had come to serve on Voyager.

"So the two crews melded together?" Dukat questioned.

"Yes," confirmed Chakotay.  "But I have to say that that was possible
only because it was a Federation ship.  It wouldn't have happened if
it was Cardassian."

"And you resigned from Starfleet to join the Maquis?"

Chakotay nodded.  "It was the hardest decision I had to make, but..."

Ro nodded.  "I understand.  About getting you back..."

"I'm concerned that a colleague of mine may also have been brought to
this universe," Chakotay interrupted.

"By the wormhole?"  asked Dukat.

"Yes.  How did you know?"

"That's why we're here now," the First Officer explained.  "To study
the wormhole. Your flight log shows that you came through it.  It's a
fascinating phenomenon, not only are there temporal shifts but also
shifts in location.  For example last time it opened it was in Empire
space.  We're pretty close to the border here, but this time it was in
Alliance territory."

"When was this?"

"About two weeks ago."

"Paris, that's my colleague, entered the wormhole only minutes before
me, so he wouldn't have exited then."

"But there's temporal variations, as I said," Dukat explained.  "He
may well have exited then, with the time dilation, but he certainly
didn't exit just now, we'd have picked up on that.  If he did exit a
couple of weeks ago, then he would have been in Empire territory. 
We'll check our sources, see who was in the area back then.  We'll
also try and find out if there are any records.  What's his full
name?"

"Tom Paris.  Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris."

Ro and Dukat exchanged glances.

"What!" Chakotay explained.  "You know him too?"

"Captain Thomas Paris is fairly well known to us," Ro said.  "He's a
member of the Imperial Family in the Empire, cousin to the Empress. 
Our intelligence sources keep fairly close tabs on Imperial family
members."

Chakotay shook his head ruefully.  "I might have known.  Paris comes
from a well known Starfleet family in my universe as well."

"This isn't necessarily good," warned Dukat.  "Being who he is, your
crewmate's counterpart will have enemies.  If one of them gets hold of
your Paris..." He sighed.

"Look," Ro said.  "We'll do what we can.  In the meantime, I'll assign
you guest quarters here if that is all right with you."

"That's fine.  Thank you."

---

At precisely 20.00 hours Tom was led into Chakotay's quarters by
Lieutenant Miller.  Tom was enveloped in a dark blue cloak that
covered him from head to foot, but his feet were bare.  Tom gasped at
the sybaritic luxury that met his eyes, the Captain's quarters were
decked out in heavy satins, velvets and silks, all in earth tones. 
They were also extremely large, and there were several doors,
indicating other rooms.  Chakotay entered from one of those doors,
dressed in a heavy silk robe, brown in colour, with patterning in gold
thread.  He smiled when he saw Paris.  It was not a pleasant smile.

Miller removed the cloak, revealing that Tom was practically naked
under it. His attire consisted only of a blue loincloth round his
slender hips and encircling his neck was a thin collar, which was gold
in colour.  Tom closed his eyes in humiliation at the look that
crossed Chakotay's face when he saw Tom's appearance.

Miller had earlier taken Tom to a room in which there were several
couches, some instruments he didn't recognise, with a bathroom
adjoining.  There Miller had bid a couple of the guards to stay, until
he had fastened the collar around Tom's neck.  At that point he had
quietly explained that the collars were controlled by wristbands and
that those worn by he and Chakotay were set for Tom's collar.  He had
efficiently given Paris a demonstration of the pain that could be
induced by the collar.  Tom was shaken by the searing agony he had
just experienced, especially after Miller explained that that was the
lowest setting.

Miller had then ordered Tom to strip.  He hesitated, but when Miller's
hand went warningly to his wristband, sighed and acceded.  Miller
walked around him, Tom flushing miserably at his perusal.

"So it's true," Miller had said,  "Thomas Paris is as beautiful as
they say. Of course, he's known as being one of the beauties of the
Imperial Family, but how nice to know that for once rumour hasn't
exaggerated.  The Captain will be pleased."

"What does Chakotay want," Tom drawled, putting on a brave face,
although he was very much afraid that he knew the answer.

Miller had laughed.  "Oh my dear, I should have thought that was
obvious. You're to serve his pleasure of course, as his personal um,
attendant."

Tom went white at hearing his fears confirmed.

"It really is too delicious," Miller was continuing.  "You see, our
noble Captain and your counterpart are enemies, great enemies at
that," he smiled. "At one time they were... involved, shall we say,
but your counterpart spurned Chakotay in public, and our Captain is
not one to forget, or forgive, public humiliation.  As if that wasn't
enough, Captain Paris then took Chakotay's new lover off him, a rather
passionate half-Klingon, called B'Elanna Torres."

Tom's head jerked at the familiar name, even as his heart sank at what
Miller was telling him, thinking to himself, //Oh shit, this is not
good.//

"Chakotay wasn't anywhere near ready to let her go, but he couldn't
compete with the Emperor's cousin, she was no fool, and accepted
Paris' offer. Although," he confided, "I'm not certain whether the
Captain was more upset at losing a lover or the best Chief Engineer
he's ever had.  But he was *very* upset at losing anything to your
counterpart."

"She wasn't a slave, then?" Paris asked.

"Of course not, she was far too valued an officer for that.  And of
course one doesn't normally enslave a Human, or a Klingon for that
matter.  They are valued allies of the Empire.  But in your case
you're outside of the  law.  Although I imagine," he mused, "that if
the Imperial Family find out about you there'll be hell to pay.  But,
none of us are going to be saying anything, we're all *completely*
loyal to the Captain and once Chakotay gets you on to his estates,
well suffice it to say that once there you won't be going any where."

"Look," Tom began earnestly.  "I can't stay here.  Surely my being
here will have consequences, mess up the time and space continuum,
that sort of thing."

Miller shrugged.  "I wouldn't know.  But it never has before."

"So there've been others, from other universes I mean?"

"Oh yes.  But to my knowledge none of them ever left here.  We learned
about them in training; there's standing orders not to let them go. 
We don't want an invasion from another universe or anything like that. 
This is the best way to ensure that doesn't happen.  Now," he
continued efficiently, "a bath, I think and then we'll get you ready
to serve..."

Chakotay walked slowly around Tom, and then nodded to Miller and told
him to go.  Tom kept his eyes on the floor, conscious of Chakotay's
perusal, knowing that he would not be able to conceal either his anger
or his apprehension should he meet Chakotay's eyes.  At the moment
Chakotay had every advantage, and Tom was trying to restrain himself,
but he wasn't finding it easy.

"Do you know," Chakotay said softly, "how long I've dreamt of this
moment. From the first time I saw you, oh not you, I suppose, but your
counterpart, I wanted him.  He decided that he was too good for me,
once he had me, but *you*, you're going to serve me any way I like,
any time I like."

If Tom had looked up then he would have been even more frightened at
the look of hatred in Chakotay's eyes.  But then he raised his head 
and glared at Chakotay.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," he said.  "I'll make a pretty poor
servant, I'm not exactly known for my ability to be respectful and I'm
naturally untidy," he drawled.  Chakotay smiled.

"Don't worry," he purred.  "You'll be trained to please me."

Tom rolled his eyes.  "Oh very original!  You sound just like a
holodeck villain and..." he began as Chakotay's face darkened in 
anger.  Tom choked as the collar was activated, oh gods the pain!

"No, no, no," Chakotay chided.  "You've forgotten already, no speaking
until spoken to.  I know," he continued with mock sympathy, "that
that's going to be particularly difficult for *you*, but I'll be on
hand to assist, I assure you."

Chakotay smiled.  "Strip," he ordered.  Tom hesitated.  "Let me remind
you," Chakotay said, pleasantly, "that I have control of your collar."

Tom reluctantly removed the loincloth, thinking to himself that, OK,
he could stand a little nakedness, but as to what might happen next... 
"Verrry nice," smiled Chakotay, admiring the long elegant penis that
was revealed, even in its un-aroused state.  "I'm glad to see that
you're just like him, in every detail, that is going to make our time
together even more... enjoyable."

//Shit// Tom thought to himself, //I was right, his dialogue is crap. 
OK, keep thinking like that, don't lose your sense of humour!//

"Kneel," he ordered.  Tom hesitated, but Chakotay did not; he touched
his wristband and Tom ended up on the floor as the agony of the collar
hit him.

Chakotay shook his head sadly.  "Hmm, you are going to be stubborn I
see." He smiled widely.  "How unfortunate, for you.  You really must
learn to appreciate your place here, you do what I tell you, when I
tell you. Whatever you were before, forget, you now belong to me and I
do not tolerate disobedience in my slaves.  Your counterpart has never
had any self-discipline, but you'll learn to obey me, you can be very 
sure of that. Now," he barked.  "To your knees."

Tom didn't move; he was too angry at the treatment he was receiving to
go to his knees of his own volition.  He staggered to his feet and
looked at the Captain defiantly, thinking to himself that he must be
mad, but he just couldn't bring himself to kneel in front of Chakotay,
not him of all people. "Go to hell!"

"A challenge, I see," Chakotay smiled.  "I love a challenge!  Miller
said you were uncooperative."

Chakotay gave him another dose of the collar this time at a higher
setting. He waited patiently while Tom recovered and ordered him to
his knees again. Paris again got to his feet. Chakotay used the collar
again, at a higher setting yet.  This time Tom was not able to move
for several minutes, lying there panting and exhausted.  Chakotay
knelt down beside him and pulled his head back.

"Listen to me," he said quietly.  "You have a choice, obey me, or I
will make you feel pain beyond what you can comprehend.  Your collar 
can be set in continuous loop, like so."  He touched his wristband and
watched with detached interest while Tom's body spasmed for several
minutes.  Chakotay deliberately did not use the highest setting that
the collar was capable of; he wanted to reserve that in case it became
necessary in the future.  When he finally switched the collar off, Tom
lay on the floor where he had fallen, unable to feel anything other
than the blessed surcease of pain. Stubborn though he was, he knew
that he could not take more of this, it was unbelievable, the pain had
been so intense that he could not even scream, all he had been able to
do was endure.  He had never been so afraid, how could he resist this?  
The collar did not actually cause any physical damage; thus Chakotay
could use it on him indefinitely.  Chakotay waited until he judged
that Tom was capable of movement.

"Now," Chakotay said, "let's try this again.  To your knees."

Tom hauled himself to his knees, inwardly cursing at himself for
complying, telling himself he was pathetic, a coward, but, oh gods, he
couldn't take another dose of the pain, not at this moment.  Chakotay
moved to a richly appointed chair.

"Come here," he said.  Tom started to get to his feet.  "I didn't tell
you to rise," Chakotay said.  "Come here, on your hands and knees."

Tom hesitated; Chakotay activated the wristband.  Chakotay moved to
where Tom lay gasping on the floor, and stirred at him with his foot.

"You are even more stubborn than I thought," he commented, "but I know
you're not stupid.  You *will* obey me."

He then turned the collar up to a higher setting; Tom could not
believe the pain, surely he couldn't feel such agony and be physically
undamaged?  When, at last, the pain ceased, Chakotay ordered Tom to
him again and this time Tom obeyed, feeling a rich vein of humiliation
course through him, flushing in shame as he crawled to Chakotay's
chair.

When he reached Chakotay, the Captain reached out and raised Tom's
chin, forcing him to look at him, taking in the delicately flushed
countenance with pleasure.  "You really are lovely," he said 
admiringly.

Chakotay leaned back in the chair, and loosened the tie to his robe. 
The sides fell away, revealing Chakotay's cock, jutting up with
arousal.  He seized Tom's head and forced it down.  "Now," he said,
"put that smart mouth of yours to good use.  Please me."

---

The next morning Tom lay chained face down on Chakotay's bed.  He was
covered in bruises, scratches and bite marks; some of the latter were
still oozing blood.  He looked up as he heard footsteps and saw
Miller.

"Well it looks like the Captain enjoyed himself last night," he said,
injecting Tom with a painkiller.  "I can see that I'm going to be
doing this a lot, the Captain has been known to get rather carried
away on occasion. And I see he used the chains the first night too. 
Hmm, he usually waits a while before using those.  You *must* have
inspired him.  Of course," he continued chattily, releasing Tom from
the chains as he spoke, "that's not surprising, you being who you are
and all.  After all, how often is it that a Captain of obscure family,
although personally I find him most attractive, gets to chain one of
the great beauties of the Empire to his bed.  Now, let's get you
cleaned up, that's right, move to the bathroom."

He slipped an arm round Tom, who staggered and almost fell, as he
tried to get to his feet.  Miller ran the dermal regenerator over
Tom's skin and ran a bath for him.  He had to help Tom into the bath. 
Once there Tom lay back and closed his eyes.  He was close to tears,
but was not going to give in to them, not in front of Miller.  Last
night was like nothing he had before experienced.  This Chakotay was a
sadist of the highest order, indefatigable as well.  Tom had not dared
to refuse to pleasure Chakotay with his mouth. He had cursed at
himself inwardly, but complied, telling himself that it wasn't as if
he hadn't done this before after all.  He might have had more female
lovers than male, but he was not exactly inexperienced.  Chakotay had
pronounced himself most satisfied with Tom's performance, noting that
he had a definite talent for it, that he was "even better" than his
counterpart.

Chakotay's recovery time had been startlingly fast; in fact Tom
suspected it was drug fuelled.  He had then ordered the younger man to
the bedroom, where Tom had been unable to prevent his instincts to
fight from taking over again, for an instant forgetting about the
collar.  He had hit Chakotay in the gut, as the Captain moved to
embrace him, but the bigger man's response had been to immediately
activate the collar.  As Tom collapsed to the floor again, in agony,
Chakotay had taken advantage of Tom's weakness to rape him for the
first time.  Tom had regained full consciousness from the excruciating
pain of the collar, to find himself stretched out face down on the
floor, Chakotay on top of him, roughly penetrating him.  Tom found
himself thankful at that moment that Miller, knowing what was to
happen, had prepared him, humiliating though that moment had been,
because great though the pain was, it was not as bad as it otherwise
would have been.  It had not taken long for Chakotay to climax and he
had lain on top of Tom, tracing patterns on his back and licking at
the oozing teeth marks on his shoulder
where Chakotay had bitten him.

"At last," Chakotay had whispered.  "I've been waiting for this for so
long."

He got up and ordered Tom to lie down on his back on the bed, which
was enormous and richly appointed with luxurious covers, including a 
fur counterpane.  Tom hauled himself unsteadily to his feet and 
obeyed, not daring to say a word for fear of the collar.  Chakotay 
seized Tom's wrists and chained his arms above his head to the bed.  
He reached to the table by the side of the bed and removed a 
substance, which looked like jelly.

He told Tom to open his mouth.  Tom's mouth set into a stubborn line
as he instinctively clamped his jaw shut.  Chakotay's hand went to his
wristband warningly and Tom reluctantly complied with Chakotay's
order.  He prevented himself from swallowing, but the jelly dissolved
quickly in his mouth. Chakotay pleasantly informed him that the
substance was an aphrodisiac.  Tom shut his eyes as he heard this; it
seemed that Chakotay was determined to have his pleasure no matter
what.

Chakotay ran a finger lightly down Tom's arm.  Tom gasped, that single
touch had felt like fire!   Chakotay smiled.

"You're a sensitive one aren't you," he commented.  "Maybe it's that
which makes you, oh sorry, your *counterpart*, such a good lover."

Chakotay ran his hands down Tom's torso, noting with pleasure the
younger man's choked intake of breath as he did so.  His mouth took
the same path as his hands; he kissed, licked and bit his way down
Tom's body, watching the young man's involuntary response, hearing the
moans that Tom was unable to stifle.  Chakotay reached his goal; his
hand fondled Tom's shaft, which was already erect, as he ran his
fingers slowly round the head.   Tom was horrified at the way his body
was reacting, he desperately tried to prevent his response, but every
touch was unbearably arousing, the very air itself as it slid across
his sweat soaked skin was a torment.  Tom doubted that he had ever
been harder in his life, this despite the fact that he had never
wanted to have sex with anyone less, not this charade of the Chakotay
he knew, the Chakotay he had hoped, he had hoped....  He choked,
unable to think, unable to do anything except feel, as Chakotay licked
at his erection.  Tom's hips lifted involuntarily from the bed,
seeking more... seeking what?  Chakotay lifted his head, enjoying the
moan Tom was unable to prevent at the loss of sensation.  Tom was
rigid in the restraints; his whole body was quivering.

Tom was already desperate for release, but Chakotay ordered him not to
come, warning him that if he did, he would use the collar on him. 
Chakotay smiled as he said that and without warning gave Tom a further
jolt, "as a reminder".  But even this dose of pain did not diminish
the effects of the aphrodisiac.  Chakotay continued to fondle Tom,
enjoying the response he was not able to prevent as his wrists moved
in the restraints, hands clenching and unclenching.  Chakotay looked
critically at Tom's erection, at the drop of pre-cum straining at the
head, yes, he was ready.

Chakotay took Tom's shaft fully into his mouth, and sucked.  Tom's
body arched desperately up from the bed, this was torture, this was
impossible, he couldn't resist this, no one could.    Oh gods he was,
he was going to, to, no, no, no!   Tom's body stiffened as he lost
control, starting to spasm...  Aaargh!!

Chakotay enjoyed Tom's scream of agony as he touched his wristband.
Inwardly Chakotay was pleased; he had done his utmost to ensure that
Tom would not be able to prevent himself from climaxing and had 
enforced the lesson nicely, he thought.  And it was so delicious to 
hear the arrogant Tom Paris scream.  Chakotay could not count the 
times he had dreamed of taking revenge on his former lover, now all 
those dreams were going to come true. Revenge was *so* sweet.   His 
new slave's counterpart had been the best lover Chakotay had ever had, 
*when* the arrogant bastard had deigned to exert himself to please 
Chakotay.  The Captain remembered bitterly that all too often it had 
been the other way round, Paris taking full advantage of his superior 
social standing to call the shots.  But now, Chakotay was in control 
and he intended to take full advantage of it.  He was going to 
particularly enjoy what he was going to force his new possession to do 
next.

Chakotay waited patiently until the effects of the pain had worn off
and Tom's body once more reacted to the effects of the aphrodisiac.  
It was a drug he had used many times before; he found it useful in
breaking his slaves, although none had been as delicious as Paris, he 
mused to himself. He knew that after the first orgasm the effects 
would actually intensify; he was counting on that in order to take the 
next step in taming Tom.  He started to caress Tom's body once more,
enjoying the feel of the pale skin under his hand, tangling his
fingers in Tom's chest hair, so different from his own smooth brown
skin.  He noted how Tom's breathing had harshened as his body writhed
in the restraints.

"If you want to come," he said, "you're going to have to beg me for
permission, but first you're going to beg me to fuck you.  You should
address me as 'my lord'," he said loftily.  "And only if you please me
will you be permitted release, you must learn that you are *mine*, to
do with as I please."

Chakotay licked his way down Tom's body once more, paying particular
attention to the nipples, sucking at them roughly, biting and twisting
them. Tom felt as if the stimulus was going directly to his cock and
that, if possible, he was now even harder, so hard that it hurt. 
Chakotay's mouth hovered close to the younger man's shaft.  He touched
his tongue to the head and then blew gently on it.  Tom whimpered,
unable to do anything but feel in response to the stimulus.  Then
Chakotay licked his way up from the base to the head, causing Tom's
body to once more arch up from the bed as he screamed incoherently. 
The effects of the stimulation combined with the aphrodisiac were such
that Tom had never needed to come more, his whole skin felt
sensitised, the lightest touch was enough to arouse him and what
Chakotay was doing to him was unprecedented, he had *never* been so
desperate, but he knew that if he came without permission he would be
rewarded with another jolt of pain from the collar.  All his nerve
endings were screaming at him and he was helpless to prevent himself
writhing on the bed, whimpering.  Dimly, he was aware at the back of
his mind that nothing had ever been as bad as this, forced to 
cooperate in his own degradation as he was.  But for now he didn't 
care, he needed to come so badly, he would do anything, say anything, 
because he couldn't bear this, this was intolerable, unbearable.  Oh 
gods, please, please...

Chakotay leaned over him and in a soft voice reminded Tom that if he
wanted release he had to beg Chakotay to use him.  Tom was barely
capable of speech by this point, but managed to whisper:

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please.... my lord....please, fuck me, use me, please."

"I don't think I quite heard you, say that again."

"Please," Tom was crying at this point, so great was his need.
"Please... fuck me, please, fuck me, please, now, please."  Tom
brought up his knees to his chest as he spoke, raising his ass
imploringly.  His head tossed from side to side and his eyes were
squeezed shut.

"Look at me," Chakotay said quietly.  Tom opened his eyes, they were
all pupils with desire, no trace of their normal piercing blue could 
be seen. "Keep your eyes open," Chakotay ordered. " I want you to see, 
to remember that you belong to me."

He seized Tom's thighs, pulled them further apart and smoothly entered
the young man's body, all the while enforcing his domination by
staring into Tom's eyes, his own darkly dilated with desire.  Tom
cried out with relief at the moment of entry, welcoming Chakotay's
cock as it slid over the spot in his ass that marked the prostate.

"Be still," Chakotay ordered.  "You're not allowed to move until I
give you permission," Chakotay said, still in that damnable soft
voice.  "Do you understand?"

"Yes," wept Tom.

"Yes *what*?"

"Yes, my lord."

Chakotay had still not moved, remaining still inside Tom.

He leaned down to Tom.  "Do you want me to move," he whispered.

"Yes, please, oh please, my lord," Tom was in agony, his body was
screaming at him for further stimulation.

Chakotay smiled at Tom and started to thrust, Tom holding himself
still as he had not been given permission to move.  His head thrashed
from side to side as he held his lower body immobile.  "You may move,
Thomas," Chakotay said and with a glad cry Tom started to thrust back
against the man possessing him.  He was almost... there...he was about
to.... No, no, think of the pain, the collar, don't come, don't
come...

"Please," he begged, "please my lord, let me come, please."  His whole
body shook with the force of his sobs.  He had never known such agony,
such *need*, he couldn't comprehend that it was possible to make him
want so much, to degrade himself this way, but oh gods, he needed, he
needed....

Chakotay smiled cruelly down at Tom, enjoying his abject pleading, his
torment.  "You're mine," he panted. "Say it!  Tell me you belong to
me. Say it!" he threatened.

"I'm yours, I belong to you," Tom cried, through his agony.

Chakotay smiled.  "And don't you ever forget it. You belong to me, I'm
your master," he panted, as he neared completion.  He climaxed, head
thrown back, bellowing his satisfaction, Tom still holding himself
back, tears trickling from his eyes as he fought not to climax.

Chakotay said: "In a moment I'm going to allow you to come, but
remember everything you are belongs to me, you come only as I allow 
it, when I allow it.  Come now!"  Tom threw his head back and screamed 
and sobbed through the most welcome, most painful, orgasm of his life.

When he quietened Chakotay had leaned over him, looking into his
tearful eyes, enjoying the sight of his flushed, tearstained face.  
Inwardly Chakotay was savouring his sense of triumph, he had had Tom 
Paris begging him, pleading with him, he couldn't believe how 
satisfying he had found it. He brushed a hand across Tom's face, 
murmuring "So beautiful."

Tom looked up at him, shattered, aghast at his abject surrender.  He
had been unable to help himself; Chakotay had defeated him.  But, even 
at this moment he was conscious that deep within him there was still a
hard knot of resistance.  Even as he lay in his conqueror's arms, he
vowed to himself that he would escape and pay back this bastard for
everything that he had done to him.

"The effects of the aphrodisiac will last for quite a few hours yet,"
Chakotay informed Tom matter of factly.  However, I've taken
denedrexidine. Have you heard of it?"

Tom shook his head.  "No matter, the effects are decreased recovery
time and increased libido, but they also help me to last longer."   He
glanced down Tom's body noticing with approval that Tom's erection was
already returning.

"I see that you're recovering", he smiled.  Chakotay idly caressed
Tom's body, enjoying the moans the young man was unable to keep from
vocalising at the stimulus.  He unchained Tom and ordered him to lie
face down on the bed. Tom rolled over, pressing his aching erection
deeper into the bed as Chakotay chained him again in this position. 
"Hmm," he mused.  "I haven't decided whether you'll be allowed to come
this time, it depends on how well you beg me for it."

However, this time Chakotay did not allow Tom release, deeming that,
although Tom's begging was satisfactory, his earlier behaviour was
such that Chakotay was not minded to "reward" him this time, and that
he trusted that Tom "would remember this in the future".  Chakotay had
of course never had any intention of allowing Tom completion; this was
all part of his plan to break him.  Chakotay withdrew from Tom's body,
stretched in post coital satisfaction and then went to sleep next to
Tom, leaving him chained in position.   Tom's body clamoured at him,
aching and unsatisfied, preventing him from sleeping all night, but he
did not dare to rub against the bedclothes in an attempt to find
satisfaction, not with Chakotay lying next to him.   Tom's eyes went
unwillingly to the wristband, that insidious device controlling his
collar.  //How the fuck could he resist it?// he wondered
despairingly.

The next morning when Chakotay had awakened, he had smiled with
pleasure at the sight that awaited him.  He informed Tom that he was
beautiful first thing in the morning and had observed the swollen
state of Tom's penis with satisfaction.  He had then used Tom once
again, for his own pleasure only, pulling Tom's hips towards him,
parting his buttocks and entering him abruptly.  However, Tom was
unable to prevent himself from whimpering in need, even through the
agony of Chakotay's rough possession, inflamed and swollen as he was
after so much use.  Once Chakotay had climaxed, he climbed off the
bed, regarded Tom thoughtfully, noting how he was twisting in the
chains, sighed at himself for an indulgent master and allowed Tom to
come. Tom had collapsed into the bed, not able to move, even if the
chains had not prevented him, reflecting bitterly that it was going to 
be difficult to maintain any sense of independence, to not surrender 
to Chakotay completely, when even his own body could be used against 
him.

Chakotay went to bathe and dress and then exited his quarters leaving
Tom chained to the bed

Tom could have held out under outright torture more readily than the
insidious feelings of last night.  It had only been one night so far,
but already he had been humiliated into begging Chakotay several
times.  But Tom Paris was nothing if not a survivor.  He ordered
himself to concentrate on his feelings of intense hatred for this
Chakotay and think of escape.  He might not be able to get back to his
Voyager, but he might be able to get back to his own universe, in the
Alpha Quadrant.  He must not allow himself to believe it was hopeless,
but try and learn as much about the Empire as possible, remind himself
he was a Starfleet officer, albeit one with a field commission, and
that members of Starfleet did not just give up.  //Also Tommy-boy,//
he told himself, //Just think about how much pleasure you'll get from
killing Chakotay.  Shit,// he thought in dismay, //Chakotay, my
Chakotay, I wonder what's happened to him?   Pray to the gods that he
isn't here too.//

He reflected on the differences between the two Chakotays.  One he
admired and respected and, yes, had even lusted after in a distant,
no-way-in-hell-that's-ever-gonna-happen way.  Tom reflected wistfully
that from the moment he first saw Chakotay he had been attracted to
him, but knew that the other despised him, perhaps even hated him. 
However he thought that he and the Commander had at last been making
strides towards a real friendship, even if that was all they ever
would be too one another.  But *this* Chakotay, the other, he loathed,
detested...and feared.  His dreams of making love with Chakotay tasted
bitter in his mouth, he had had Chakotay all right, or rather,
Chakotay had had him, and it was quite possibly the worst experience
of his life.  Oh, perhaps not the worst, his mind flashed back to the
accident at Caldik Prime, the day he had been dishonourably discharged
from the Fleet, his father's face, both then and on the day he was
sentenced to prison, but last night, last night had been the most
painfully humiliating in his life.  His fists clenched in the
restraints even as he became aware of the myriad cuts, scratches and
bruises adorning his form. 

//Concentrate Tom,// he told himself.  //You can't afford to give in,
whatever happens you can't let this bastard break you, you're a
Starfleet officer and you will escape.// 

He laughed at the irony, he was pretty far from escape, chained as he
was to the Captain's bed, but he was relieved to find that he was
thinking in this way, it meant he was not broken yet.  However, he was
realistic enough to know that no one (or at least no Human) could hold
out forever under this kind of treatment. //Better escape soon,// he
thought to himself grimly, not least because he feared that once he
was on Chakotay's family estates, it would be next to impossible to
escape, difficult though it might be in the present circumstances. 
Miller had informed him that Chakotay owned a large chunk of a planet
"acquired" by Chakotay's ancestors approximately 200 years ago.

//OK,// he thought, //Resisting him will get you precisely nowhere, so
play along until you can get out of here.  Oh gods, let that be
soon!//

Inwardly, Tom had to admit to himself that he was terrified of what
the collar could do too him, but he knew that, his resolve to 
cooperate notwithstanding, there might be times that he simply could 
not force himself to play along.  He shivered at the remembrance of 
the pain and then ordered himself to not think about it, to 
concentrate on escape.  The first thing he needed to figure out was 
how to get the damn collar off!

---

Captain Chakotay bounded on to the bridge of the Extreme that morning,
exuding energy.  His First Officer, a human called Commander Seska
stood up as he entered, yielding command to him.  Chakotay looked at
her appreciatively; she was a fine looking woman, he reflected, but 
she was an even better First Officer and for that reason he had made a
decision not to become involved with her, having learned his lesson
with Torres.  He pondered to himself that, as with all his crew, he
knew she was loyal to him, as he had made very sure that he had some
hold over every member of his crew.  He had not risen to become
Captain of a destroyer class starship without taking that little
precaution.  In Seska's case she had rather 'exotic' tastes in
bed-partners even for a member of the Empire, where mating with
non-sentient life forms was frowned upon.  Chakotay had the evidence
safely stored away.

"You look invigorated this morning Captain.  I take it this Lieutenant
Paris pleased you?" she enquired.

Chakotay smiled, remembering just *how* Paris had pleased him.  "You
take it correctly," he affirmed.   He discussed with the Commander
their course heading and destination, pleased to see that everything
was proceeding smoothly.  His mouth curved into a self-satisfied smile
as he recalled the previous night.  Possessing Paris had proved to be
even more satisfying than he had anticipated, he had proven to be very
skilled, even better than his counterpart; Chakotay could not remember
a bed partner whose mouth had pleased him more.  In addition, the
sense of satisfaction he felt at possessing Tom was incalculable. 
Chakotay had long been tormented by dreams of he and Captain Paris
together, since Paris had so publicly terminated their relationship. 
Chakotay had always writhed inwardly when he remembered that
humiliation, but *now*, he smiled as he remembered how he had taken
Tom last night; for the first time the memory of Paris spurning him no
longer held its usual sting.  The hatred Tom was not able to conceal
added an extra fillip to Chakotay's pleasure as he forced the young
man to beg him to use him.  He intended to keep this Paris forever. 

//Hmm,// he pondered, //I think I'll call him Thomas, to distinguish
him from his counterpart//, even after he was tamed, oh, he was going
to enjoy the taming perhaps more than anything, but Chakotay was not a
fool.  One did not dispose of a lovely and talented bed-partner, even
when the pleasure of breaking him was over.

Seska glanced over at Chakotay.  "I'd like to meet this new
acquisition of yours," she said.

Chakotay surprised himself at his feeling of possessiveness; he had on
occasion rewarded his senior staff by giving them one of his personal
attendants for the night, but he had no intention of doing this with
Thomas. Thomas was his, and his alone.  "And so you shall, Commander,"
he replied, "but I'm afraid that I'll be keeping this one to myself,
at least for the time being."

Seska made a disappointed moue.  "Pity," she said lightly.  "Captain
Paris does have a certain... reputation.  I was curious to see if it
was deserved."

"Oh it's deserved all right.  Why do you think I'm not lending him
out?"

"Hmm, I envy you then," she said in response.

---

Miller returned as Tom was falling asleep in the bath; having slept
little the night before he was exhausted, and could not stay awake, in
spite of the circumstances.  The relief he felt just by being out of
Chakotay's presence was immense.  Miller informed Tom that he had
spoken to the Captain, who had given Miller his orders as far as Tom
was concerned.  Tom was to be Chakotay's only attendant, at least at
present.  Miller bitched at the fact that he had had to redistribute
Chakotay's other slaves on board the ship to other officers, bemoaning
that he was bound to get complaints as to why a particular officer had
or had not received a particular slave.

Miller took Tom to another room, commenting that he would show Tom the
rest of Chakotay's quarters later.  The room was beautifully decorated
in colours of green and gold and in the centre there was a massage
table.  Miller told Tom to get onto it and then proceeded to oil and
massage the young man, commenting as he did so that Chakotay expected
his attendants to be maintained in good condition.  Tom was unable to
avoid luxuriating in the massage, feeling his tense muscles relax. 
Miller said that he would teach Tom how to massage, so that he could
please Chakotay.

As he was providing the massage, Miller also detailed the
circumstances of Tom's captivity.   He was not to leave Chakotay's
quarters without permission.  If he attempted to do so, his collar 
would prevent him from getting far, as it was set to activate 
automatically upon exiting the entrance.  The collar would kill him if 
he left the ship without permission. Tom's heart sank at this news; 
his vague idea of stealing a shuttle having been scuppered.  Miller 
showed Tom to a small closet where he was to keep a selection of 
clothing to wear.  If Tom did leave Chakotay's quarters he was to wear 
a tunic that had been, Miller informed him, replicated for him in the 
usual livery for Chakotay's slaves.  It was dark blue in colour, with 
the same gold patterning on Chakotay's robe of last night.  He showed 
Tom a selection of tunics that Miller had replicated last night for 
the young man. They were in varying colours and styles, but were all 
very short.

Tom's duties included waiting on Chakotay, seeing to his personal
toilette, serving him food and, of course, pleasing him.  In addition
he was to keep the quarters clean and tidy; Miller showed him where
the spare bedding was and directed Tom to remove the stained bedding
and replace it with fresh. He was to be allowed to use the computer,
as the Captain preferred his bed slaves to be well informed, in case
Chakotay was in the mood for conversation.  He showed Paris Chakotay's
personal gym, which Paris should use to keep himself in shape; his
duties included maintaining his personal appearance, and Chakotay
would not be pleased if he did not retain his present beauty.  What
really chilled Tom was that Miller said matter of factly that when
Chakotay injured him, he should ask for Miller, who was capable of
tending to all but the most serious injuries.  Tom knew from Miller's
words that the treatment he had received last night was no isolated
occurrence.

Miller ordered Tom to eat, commenting that Chakotay would not be
pleased if he became weak.  Tom was not hungry, feeling sick to his
stomach, but knowing that Miller could, and would, use the collar on 
him if he didn't comply, forced himself to eat some of the sumptuous 
repast that was breakfast, even for slaves, in the Empire.

After Miller had left, Tom sat down in front of one of the computer
terminals, in order to find out as much about his present
circumstances as he could.  The Empire in which he had ended up was
enormous, but, Tom thought, unstable.  His knowledge of history led 
him to see many similarities between this Empire and the Roman Empire 
in its decline. The Empire encompassed most of the Federation, but 
most races were subsumed into it as servants or slaves, although there 
were exceptions, such as Vulcans. Tom shuddered at the thought of what 
the Vulcans of this universe were like. Humans were at the top of the
Empire; the Imperial Family was Human.  The Empress was unquestionably
the most powerful person in the Empire and appeared to be greatly
feared.  She was quite old, in her nineties and had several children,
all of whom were vying to be named her heir.  It seemed to be quite
acceptable to advance by way of murder, it was seen as a sign of
initiative. 

Tom whistled when he saw that Miller was quite correct; his
counterpart was a member of the Imperial Family.  He suddenly realised
that the Empress was his cousin Magdalene, who he was related to
through his mother's side of the family.  In his universe she was a
highly moral, but kind person.  This Empress was neither.  Tom
accessed his counterpart's service record (having decided to look at
his first and work his way up to Chakotay's) and was sickened by what
he found.  It was customary in the Empire to use other races, other
peoples, to take what one wanted with no compunction.  Tom's
counterpart seldom used direct force, preferring to persuade by threat
of force; he was commended for that, for being less wasteful.

He ascertained that there was a Voyager in this universe, commanded by
Kathryn Janeway, who was described as "highly efficient"; by now Tom
knew that was a euphemism for ruthless.  The ship had disappeared in
the Badlands a few years ago, chasing a ship of Cardassian rebels.  He
checked the crew complement; it was the same as originally carried by
his Voyager, minus one Thomas E. Paris.  //So,// he mused, //Harry,
the Delaneys, Carey, Sam and the other Starfleet crew are on that
ship.//  He thought of his friends, remembering that Miller had told
him that in this universe he and B'Elanna Torres were lovers.  Back on
Voyager B'Elanna and Harry Kim had recently got married.  Tom had been
best man, and he had been happy for them both, although wistfully
aware that he was attracted to both of them, but by the time he had
realised that they had found one another.  He had settled for both of
them being the best friends he had ever had. 

//But of course, in this universe,// he thought, //there is no Maquis,
or at least no Human Maquis, so B'Elanna, Chakotay and the other
Human, or part Human Maquis, would not have been in the Badlands.// 
He checked the status of the Klingons and discovered that they were,
as Miller had said, allies of the Empire.  From what Tom could
ascertain, the Klingons in this universe had forgotten about honour.

Finally, with some trepidation, he turned to Chakotay's service
record. This Chakotay had been decorated several times by the Empire, 
for example for ruthlessly putting down an uprising of Trills, by
executing all the leaders and the head of each individual family on
Trill.  He had "persuaded" Ferenginar to increase it's annual tribute,
leaving most Ferengi living in abject poverty and was an effective
battle commander, being responsible for wiping out several groups of
rebels.  When captured, the rebels were routinely executed, although
some were held back for torture first.  Tom reflected grimly that this
appeared to be universal throughout the Empire.  When he had finished
the records, Tom sat back with a sigh. This Chakotay was even more
dangerous than he had thought.  Tom was conscious that there was a
cold pit of fear congealing in his stomach at the realisation that he
was in the man's power, that Chakotay held a grudge against his
counterpart and was determined to make Tom pay.  This man would stop
at nothing in order to achieve his goal.  Tom reinforced his earlier
determination that he must attempt to play along, persuade Chakotay
that he would co-operate, galling though it was, until he could figure
out how to escape.  Although Tom was reluctant to admit it, even to
himself, he was terrified.  He had sublimated his fear into thoughts
of escape, but he was all alone, captured by one of the most ruthless
Captains of the Empire, who was determined to break him.  Starfleet 
training, and, more importantly, Tom's own courage and determination, 
which Tom did not even recognise he had, could only do so much in the 
circumstances.

He gritted his teeth, and set out to learn all that he could about the
ship he was presently on.  It was large, with a crew complement of
1,500, plus slaves, numbering about 750.  The crew was largely Human,
but with a scattering of other races.  He discovered that there were
several Maquis members on Voyager who were crew on the ship, including
Seska and Dalby, as First and Second Officer respectively.  Tom
wondered whether this Seska was actually Cardassian, but could not
think of any way to use this to his advantage, even if she was.  Most
of the ship's schematics weren't available to him, but he ascertained
the general layout of the ship, which he memorised in the event he got
the chance to escape.

That evening when Chakotay came off shift, Tom was on his knees in the
main room, as instructed by Miller, wearing a grey and silver tunic
Miller had "suggested" he wear that day.  He had already prepared
himself for Chakotay's use, knowing that to do otherwise was to invite
extra pain. Chakotay had smiled in pleasure at the sight of Tom and
then ordered him to take off the tunic.  Tom did so, miserably aware
that wearing the tunic he looked exactly like what he was, a pretty
plaything, but wishing for some clothing, anything, to hide him at
least partially from Chakotay's gaze.

Chakotay for his part was enjoying seeing the colour stain Tom's skin,
as he was unable to keep from flushing in embarrassment.  Chakotay
reflected that with all that lovely fair skin, his Thomas coloured up
beautifully.  It was certainly much easier to make him blush than his
counterpart.

"Now serve me dinner," Chakotay ordered quietly.  Tom had noticed that
this Chakotay shared this trait in common with Voyager's Chakotay, he
seldom raised his voice, but rather than this indicating that he was a
man who was in control of himself, in this Chakotay's case the
unpleasant edge to his voice which was always present, was
threatening.

Tom turned to the replicator; he had already set up the table where
Chakotay was to eat at Miller's direction and Chakotay had sent his
menu choice, as was his habit, to the terminal in his quarters.  Tom
for his part, had already eaten, having been warned by Miller that it
was as well to do so before Chakotay came back.  Tom served the
Captain the plate of bloody meat, of Tyrgan beef, a delicacy, noting
that this Chakotay was not a vegetarian, accompanied by vegetables. 
The Captain washed it down with a glass of vintage red wine.  Another
difference from Voyager's counterpart; the Commander seldom drank.

"Come here," Chakotay ordered as he ate.  Tom moved close to
Chakotay's chair, where the older man placed an arm round his waist, 
running his hand over Tom's hip, enjoying the feel of the smooth skin 
under his hand. Chakotay's hand drifted lower and started to caress 
Tom's shaft and balls. Tom shifted uncomfortably, beginning to get 
hard under Chakotay's ministrations.  Chakotay smiled evilly, well 
aware of what he was doing to the young man.  He finished his meal and 
pushed his chair away from the table, enjoying the sight of Tom's 
flushed countenance, deciding critically that it really did increase 
his beauty.

"Undress me," Chakotay ordered, raising one leg as he spoke in order
that Tom could remove his boots.  Tom knelt in front of him and pulled
off both boots.  Chakotay stood up to allow Tom to remove the rest of
his uniform, Tom noting as he did so that Chakotay was already
partially erect.  Chakotay strode to the bathroom ordering Tom to
follow, and bathe him.  Chakotay entered the huge bath, followed by
Tom who grabbed the bathing utensils from the side.  He washed the
Captain thoroughly, careful to keep his movements gentle.   Chakotay
for his part was continually touching Tom, ensuring that his erection
did not flag.  Tom gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the insistent
hands stroking him.  The Captain climbed out of the bath and ordered
Tom to dry him off, enjoying once more the sight of the young man
kneeling in front of him.

Once dry, he ordered Tom to the bed.  This time he did not force Tom
to take the aphrodisiac, but Tom, resolve to cooperate until he could
escape notwithstanding, could not force himself to respond to
Chakotay, he hated him too much to do that. Tom lay there passively,
ignoring his insistent erection, not moving or making a sound as
Chakotay caressed him.

Chakotay was not pleased at this lack of enthusiasm on the part of his
slave and ordered him to respond.  When Tom did not immediately do his
bidding Chakotay was incensed; he would show the rebellious slave!  
He pushed Tom to the floor and touched his wristband vindictively,
enjoying the scream of agony this produced.

It took Tom over an hour to recover from the jolt the collar gave him,
the highest setting he had yet experienced.  He was unable to do
anything but lie on the floor where he had fallen, feeling the
aftershocks running through him, muscles twitching helplessly.  When
the effects had finally worn off Chakotay quietly explained to him
that he was here to please Chakotay; that resistance of whatever kind
would not be permitted.  He ordered Tom to clean himself up and then
come back to bed.

When Tom did so, Chakotay seized his head and kissed him for the first
time; no lover's kiss this, but a kiss designed to enforce his
domination over Tom.  His tongue explored Tom's mouth thoroughly,
raping the interior.  At the same time, his hands were sliding down
Tom's body, reaching and fondling Tom's shaft and balls.  Tom's virile
young body reacted predictably to the stimulus, as Chakotay released
his mouth, noting with satisfaction the humiliated tears in Tom's
eyes.  This time Tom was no passive partner; he had learnt that lesson
too well, moaning under the stimulation Chakotay provided as he used
hands, lips and teeth to thoroughly explore Tom's body.

Tom's mind was in agony throughout, in some ways this was worse than
the night before; then the effects of the aphrodisiac were such that 
he had had no choice but to react to the stimulation, but this time he
was forcing himself to actively cooperate because of the pain he would
receive if he didn't.  But the inevitable effect was that Tom
genuinely began to want Chakotay to take him, to assuage the growing
ache he felt inside.  He felt such shame, how could he want this, he
hated Chakotay, but he did want him, for this moment at least.  When
Chakotay ordered Tom to his knees and elbows, preparatory to entering
him, he was aware that part of him was eager to obey, craving the feel
of Chakotay inside him.  When Chakotay thrust into him, he was unable
to stop himself from pushing back against the older man, causing
Chakotay to laugh at him, gloating at his triumph, knowing that he had
made Tom respond to him without being drugged.  He seized Tom's cock,
timing his strokes along it with his thrusts, ensuring that they came
together, Chakotay falling on top of Tom, who collapsed on the bed.

When his breathing had slowed, Chakotay rolled off Tom, still
savouring his triumph.  Tom had turned his head away from Chakotay,
lest the older man see the tears he had been unable to prevent coming
to his eyes.  He felt even more violated than the night before;
Chakotay had not needed to use drugs this time.  Tom called himself
names, cursed at himself, how could he have been so weak, forgetting
in his agony of self recrimination that Chakotay held every advantage,
that he had resisted until the combination of agonising pain and
healthy young body had defeated him.  Chakotay seized Tom's face and
turned his head to look at him.  He smiled at the tears shining in
Tom's eyes, but said nothing other than to order Tom to clean them
both up.  Tom went to the bathroom, fetched a cloth and wiped down
Chakotay first and then himself.  Chakotay was by this time already
beginning to get hard again; he possessed awesome powers of recovery
for a man of his age, even without any drugs.  He ordered Tom to
pleasure him by using only his mouth, lying back on the bed as Tom did
so, the very picture of a magnificent male animal and one that Tom
cordially hated.  

Afterwards, Chakotay settled down for sleep, pulling Tom against him
possessively, an arm wrapped around his waist.  Chakotay soon fell
asleep, but Tom lay there for half the night, not daring to move,
feeling deep loathing and hatred, mixed with fear, for the man lying
beside him.  As the night passed Tom's natural resilience, which had
already enabled him to endure so much pain in his life, re-asserted
itself.  Perhaps Chakotay could make Tom want him physically, perhaps
the man was able to command his body, but not, he was determined, his
soul.  He would not surrender the most precious part of him to this
monster, but would continue to think of escape, recognising
instinctively that if he ceased to think of that, he was lost. 
Eventually, his exhaustion got the better of him, and he slept.

---

On the Voice of the Prophets, Chakotay was waiting impatiently for
news of Paris.  He admitted to himself that he was very worried about
the young man and had decided that he couldn't even attempt to leave
this universe until he knew whether Tom was also here.  He was
surprised at the depth of his concern for that smart-ass, annoying,
Paris, but told himself that he would have been equally worried about
any other crewmember.  So far it had been a couple of weeks with no
news.  He was enjoying his stay on the ship, he found that the crew
was very congenial.  He hadn't quite got over his unease around the
Cardassian members, although he saw that they were quite different
from any Cardassians he'd ever known.  He still smiled at the irony
that Ro's First Officer should be Dukat of all people.  He'd never met
Dukat's counterpart in his universe, but he was notorious among the
Maquis. Although he was not, of course, given access to any classified
information, he was allowed to access the ship's library.  He had
taken the opportunity to study the history of the Alliance and the
Empire.  His initial impression that the Alliance was very like the
Federation had proved to be correct, but as for the Empire... It made
Chakotay ashamed to be Human.

He had also spent much time discussing with the science department how
best to get back to his own universe. The tentative conclusion was
that the best way was to re-enter the wormhole, but they had not been
able to determine when it would next open, although they were hopeful
that the results of their research would be able to predict this with
some degree of accuracy.

Chakotay was in the ship's equivalent of a Starfleet stellar
cartography lab when the commbadge he had been given beeped.  It was
Captain Ro, asking to see him in her office.  She smiled at him when
he arrived, but her expression was troubled.

"I've news of Lieutenant Paris," she stated without preamble. 
Chakotay looked at her expectantly.  "As we suspected he is here. 
Unfortunately he's in the hands of the Empire."

"So, what happens next? Is he being held as a prisoner or what?"

"Yes, he's a prisoner.  The really bad news is who has him."

"Who?"  Chakotay asked impatiently, noting that a distinct reluctance
on Ro's part.

"Your counterpart."

Chakotay blinked.  "Well, surely that's not so bad."

"Isn't it?" Ro asked sceptically.  "Didn't you read the records we
have on your counterpart and Paris?"

"Yes, I realise he's not exactly a knight in shining armour..."

Ro looked at him quizzically, not understanding the reference.

"Oh, sorry.  I meant not a great person, but surely..."

"He has a grudge against the Tom Paris of this universe," Ro
interrupted.

"What kind of grudge?"

"The worst kind.  They were lovers, Paris dumped Chakotay, humiliated
him in public.  Chakotay's not the type to forgive this."

Chakotay was silent.  He was very disturbed by what he'd heard, not
just the grudge, but the reasons for it.  He was puzzled just why it
should bother him so much that his and Paris' counterparts had been
lovers, but it did. He drew a breath.  "So, we can assume that Tom's
not being treated well."

"We know that that's the case.  Our informant tells us that Chakotay
has
enslaved Paris."

"What do you mean by enslaved?" Chakotay asked carefully.

"It's customary in the Empire to keep slaves as you know."  Chakotay
nodded. "They can serve many functions from simple servants to even
providing scientific knowledge, but one of their most popular uses is
as... bedmates."

Chakotay swallowed heavily.  "So you're saying that my counterpart
is...
is..."

"Using Paris sexually? Yes, there's no doubt about it.  And I think I
should warn you that he's not known for being lenient with his slaves. 
Your Paris is...I guess what I'm trying to say is that he's likely
being hurt, a lot."

Chakotay felt sick.  "I have to rescue him."

"Agreed.  But it's not going to be easy. Security in the Empire is
very
tight."

"What about your informant?  Can he help?"

"Maybe.  But it's going to take time."

"I can't leave Tom there.  He may be killed at any minute."

Ro shook her head.  "That's most unlikely.  From what I've heard
Chakotay enjoys Paris far too much to kill him.  No, any damage is
more likely to be psychological."

As Chakotay opened his mouth to protest the seriousness of this, she
held up a hand.  "I know, that's bad, very bad, but as long as he's
alive, he can recover.  The important thing is to concentrate on the
possibility of a successful rescue."

"All right," Chakotay reluctantly agreed.  "So what do we do now."

"Get you to Bajor.  You should be able to meet our contact there,
hopefully agree a plan to rescue Paris."

However, it was not until a couple of weeks later that the Voice of
the Prophets finally reached Bajor, having been diverted to Antares IV 
to provide some urgently needed medical supplies.  Chakotay had chafed 
at the delay, but could hardly protest, not when there was a plague
there, which might kill millions.  Chakotay had asked if he might take
a shuttle to Bajor, but Ro refused, saying that she would prefer if he
visited Bajor with her.  When Chakotay finally beamed down to Bajor,
in the company of Ro Laren, he looked round appreciatively.  He had
visited Bajor in his own universe, but this version was what Bajor
might have been like if the Cardassians hadn't invaded.  It was
breathtaking.  They materialised onto a plateau with a view of some
gardens, which were, Ro informed him famed throughout the Alpha
Quadrant.  In the foreground was a city, but the architecture had been
designed to blend in harmoniously with the surrounding vegetation. 
Bajor's history and reputation as a most artistic race was amply borne
out by the view awaiting him.

Behind them was the Alliance Fleet Headquarters, where they were to
meet Ro's contact.  They moved swiftly to the designated meeting room,
Chakotay noting en route that here too the décor was beautiful.  Left
to themselves it was apparent that the Bajorans were concerned that
anything they made should be both functional and pleasing to the eye. 
As they entered the meeting room, the contact swung round.  It was
Seska!  Chakotay blinked but managed to not show his amazement in any
other fashion, he had realised that the people in this universe might
be very different from their counterparts. He noted that she looked
fully Human, but wondered whether she was actually Cardassian.  That
would make sense, given what he knew of her in his universe.

She smiled at him warmly.  "I have to say that the resemblance is
startling, although I think... yes, the tattoo's different, and so is
the personality from what Laren tells me," she said after they had
been introduced.  "Do you know my counterpart in your universe?"

"Yes. Yes I did," was all he said.

"And?" she was looking at him expectantly.

"Well, she's dead now."

"Oh.  Well, perhaps we can talk about that later," she said, clearly
taken aback, but all business none the less.  "I haven't got much time
at the moment.  I'm the First Officer on Chakotay's, er, your
counterpart's ship."

At Chakotay's raised eyebrows, she explained: "I'm not actually Human,
I'm a Cardassian surgically altered to look Human."

"That I'd guessed."

"Oh.  Oh of course, my counterpart."

Chakotay nodded.

"As you may have gathered I'm undercover, I provide information to the
Alliance and Cardassia.  That's how we were able to tell you that
Chakotay has your Paris."

"How is he?" Chakotay asked eagerly.

Seska sighed.  "I haven't actually seen him.  Chakotay is being very
possessive, but I've talked to Lieutenant Miller, who looks after
Chakotay's slaves.  Physically, Chakotay has been careful not to
damage him too much. Mentally..." her voice trailed off.

"I know, Ro filled me in."

She nodded.  "I'll do what I can to help you rescue him, but I
understand you've been told that there's a timing problem."

Chakotay grimaced in agreement.  A couple of days ago he had been
briefed by Ro, Dukat and her chief science officer, Commander Rece
Haron, that by far the best chance of him returning to his own
universe was by the wormhole, which opened erratically.  Any other
method stood a 70% chance of actually depositing him in yet another
universe.  They were not able to predict exactly when the wormhole
would next open, but had got the timing down to a few days for error. 
The trouble was the wormhole wasn't due to open for several weeks yet.

"I know about the wormhole, but couldn't we rescue Tom anyway."

"The trouble is that the only way I can think of to rescue him will
blow my cover irrevocably, and I need to remain there for a while yet. 
There's some information we need which I'm best placed to collect.  I
understand your concern," she said earnestly, and I promise you that
if I think he's about to suffer serious physical injury or death I'll
move then anyway, but in the meantime, I'm afraid you'll have to
wait."

Chakotay frowned.  He understood her reasons, but didn't like them.

"In the meantime you're most welcome to stay here," Ro said.  "My ship
is going on a mission that is likely to take some time, so it's not a
good idea if you come with us."

"Thank you," Chakotay said as graciously as he could manage in the
circumstances.  "Where will I stay, here at headquarters?"

"No, I thought one of our monasteries would be better," Ro said. "I'll
introduce you to a friend of mine, I know she'll take good care of
you."

"I must leave now, before I'm missed.  I'm supposed to be at a
conference" Seska explained.  "I'll be in touch, nearer the time, I
promise you."

After she left, Ro looked at him shrewdly.  "You don't trust her."

"No.  No, it's not that.  I appreciate she's a different person than
her
counterpart," he said, savouring the irony that in this universe it
might be Seska of all people who would help him and Paris.

"I don't know what she was like in your universe but in this one she's
one of my best friends and one of the bravest people I've ever met. 
She won't let you down, I assure you.  Now, how about I introduce you
to my friend before I have to go."

Chakotay smiled at her.  "I'd like that."

Half an hour later, Chakotay was looking appreciatively at his
surroundings in one of the most famous monasteries on Bajor, called
Darkheen.  He saw Ro approaching with another woman; she had asked him
to wait while she collected her friend.  As they grew nearer, he
thought he recognised the woman dressed in Vedek's robes, was it? Yes
it was, Kira Nerys!  Chakotay had met her counterpart once or twice
back in his Maquis days, although she had no idea he was Maquis. 

//Major Kira's counterpart is a Vedek!// he thought incredulously,
knowing her formidable reputation.  //Oh well, stranger things have
happened.//

Kira smiled at him warmly and bade him welcome.  He smiled back,
thinking not for the first time what a lovely woman she was.  She told
him he was welcome to stay for as long as he liked, asked him to call
her Nerys, and said that she would love to discuss the differences
between the two universes with him, if he was willing.  He confirmed
that he was and she offered to show him round.  Ro explained that she
must be leaving and unexpectedly hugged him.

"I wish all the Humans of our universe were like you.  It's been a
real pleasure meeting you."  She saluted as she was beamed to her 
ship. Kira took his arm, and led him away for the tour.  Chakotay 
thought to himself that if he wasn't so worried about Tom he would 
really have enjoyed his stay in this universe.

---


While Chakotay was getting to know the crew of the Voice of the
Prophets and the people of the Darkheen monastery on Bajor, in the
meantime his counterpart was enjoying himself training Tom.  The 
Captain reflected that Thomas was quite possibly the most stubborn 
young man he'd ever encountered, certainly he had taken longer to tame 
than any other slave Chakotay had ever had.  Initially Chakotay had 
thought that Tom would break relatively quickly.  The older man 
regarded Tom's counterpart as a spoiled brat who was badly in need of 
discipline, and was of the opinion that he would crumble under it.  As 
a consequence he had been surprised at the amount of resistance Tom 
had shown.  For example, Chakotay mused to himself, it had taken Tom 
an inordinately long time to learn not to speak unless given 
permission, or in response to Chakotay's words. True to what Miller 
had said, Chakotay did expect Tom to converse with him, but *only* 
when given permission, at all other times Tom was not to speak unless 
spoken to. Chakotay was aware that this was a particular torment for 
Tom, knowing from his previous contact with Tom's counterpart how 
difficult he found it to be silent.  Tom had received so doses of pain 
from the collar, combined with, as the mood took Chakotay, beatings or 
whippings, before he learned to be silent, that Chakotay had lost 
count.  Tom was conditioned so that it became second nature to him 
*not* to speak except on command. 

Chakotay glanced over at Tom, kneeling silently by Chakotay's desk as
the captain attended to his administrative duties.  He smiled, taking
pleasure in the sight, enjoying the man's beauty and reached out to
caress Tom's face, ruffling his hair, which was longer than it had
been, curling round itself.

Chakotay stretched lazily and smiled at Tom.  "I've got a surprise for
you," he said.  Tom was unable to prevent himself from tensing up;
Chakotay's "surprises" could be extremely unpleasant.  "Go to my
dressing room, and bring back the box on the side," he ordered.  Tom
got silently to his feet and moved as directed, Chakotay's eyes
following him admiringly.  He returned with a small box, which he
handed to Chakotay after kneeling at his feet.  Chakotay opened the
box and held up a pair of Rigalian ruby earrings. They were exquisite
and highly prized, being exceptionally rare.  He pulled Tom towards
him, removed a gold earring Tom wore in one ear and inserted the
rubies.  Chakotay smiled in approval, bent down and kissed Tom
thoroughly. "You look beautiful," he said, "come see."

Tom followed Chakotay obediently to the dressing room and stood in
front of the full-length mirror.  He fought to prevent tears from
appearing in his eyes at his appearance; this was not the Chief Pilot
of Voyager, a senior officer, a member of Starfleet, this man was a
slave, scented, oiled, dressed in a revealing tunic of dark green
silk, having had just been adorned by his master.  Chakotay loomed
behind him, his dark handsome looks a contrast to Tom's fairness. 
Chakotay placed his arms around Tom and pulled him back against his
chest.  He sucked at Tom's neck, above the collar and then pulled away
to admire the mark he'd left on the young man's fair skin.

"Do you know how much you excite me?"  Chakotay whispered, watching as
his hands went to the ties of Tom's tunic, loosening it until it slid
from his body to land at his feet.  Tom, as always, was naked under
the tunic. Chakotay slid his hands down Tom's body slowly, enjoying
the contrast between his brown skin and Tom's much lighter complexion. 
He caressed Tom's pink nipples, fingers tangling in the golden chest
hair, till Tom arched back against him, unable to prevent his
conditioned response to Chakotay's caresses.  Chakotay continued to
watch in the mirror through half hooded eyes, before spinning the
young man round and kissing him demandingly.  He loved this, adorning
Tom with new jewellery or clothes, the latter of which inevitably
Chakotay would quickly remove.  He had replicated many tunics for Tom
to wear, sometimes directing him which one he should wear on a
particular day, sometimes leaving the choice to Tom.  Chakotay noted
with amusement that if he left the choice to Tom, the younger man
invariably chose the most modest attire he could find, but modest in
this case was a relative term; all the tunics were very skimpy. 
Chakotay scolded Tom that he really should dress more to show off his
looks.

Chakotay himself often wore jewellery when off duty, nothing gaudy,
but pieces that emphasised his darkly handsome masculinity.  By 
contrast, the pieces of jewellery Tom was given were delicate in 
design, Chakotay finding the contrast between Tom's wiry physique and 
the adornments to be very exciting.  Chakotay had pierced Tom's ears
himself, enjoying the intimacy of the moment, inserting two large
sapphires, which he told Tom were, "not as bright as your eyes," into
the lobes.  Another particular favourite of Chakotay's was a delicate
gold ankle chain, which he ordered Tom never to remove.

Chakotay pulled the young man to the bedroom, having decided that
tonight he would use the chains.  He recalled that he had swiftly
taught Tom that Chakotay's pleasure was paramount, that Tom's mattered
not at all.  Chakotay remembered all the times Tom's counterpart had
subtly enforced the fact that he was the dominant partner in their
relationship, taking advantage of his status as a member of the
Imperial Family.  This had been an unaccustomed state of affairs for
Chakotay who was normally dominant in any relationship he had,
including with those who were his equals.  He reflected that he really
should not have put up with the situation for so long, not admitting,
even to himself, that he had done so because he did not want Paris to
leave him.  But now that he had Paris' counterpart in his power he was
going to make certain that he would redress the balance.  And he was
enjoying every minute of it!

Chakotay had particularly loved training Tom how to pleasure Chakotay
sexually.  Again, he thought, Tom had been inordinately stubborn, but
the collar had prevailed in the end.  Tom was taught what Chakotay
most enjoyed and also that certain types of response from Tom were not
acceptable, that there were certain acts and responses which Tom was
not to be permitted, because Chakotay did not wish it.  If Tom forgot
himself, his reward was excruciating pain.

As a consequence, Tom became incapable of carrying out those acts, or
responding in any way which Chakotay did not desire.  But a smile
curved Chakotay's mouth as he recalled the skill that Tom exhibited 
when he was ordered to pleasure Chakotay, or when Chakotay was using 
him. Chakotay had told him often that he was a natural whore, a slut, 
that he was exactly where he was most suited to be, at Chakotay's 
feet, enjoying the fact that this counterpart of the aristocratic, 
arrogant, Tom Paris was his, performing for Chakotay on command.   He 
quickly chained Tom into position on the bed, and bent to enjoy the 
young man, tonight Tom was going to beg!

---

Tom's life on board the Extreme was, quite simply, hell.  Chakotay's
moods were mercurial; beneath the surface calmness that he had in
common with his counterpart, Tom could never be sure just how this
Chakotay would react, when he would decide that Tom had not been
sufficiently pleasing and punish him, or sometimes inflict pain or
humiliation on Tom just because he could. Initially Tom could not help
but compare the two Chakotays, marvelling at the differences between
them.  Captain Chakotay also used meditation as a way of getting in
touch with his spirit guide, but the effects of the meditation were
actually to increase Chakotay's aggression.  Chakotay explained matter
of factly that the purpose of meditation was to increase strength. Tom
compared this Chakotay's fierce aggression, cloaked beneath a surface
calm and the Commander's real serenity.  Tom knew that he was one of
the few people who could make Commander Chakotay genuinely angry,
normally  the man was in control at all times.  This Chakotay appeared
to be in control, but lost that appearance all too readily, on the
slightest provocation.  Tom was afraid the whole time; living with
fear became second nature to him.  He had almost surrendered
completely to Chakotay, his initial resistance having been eroded by
the continual pain Chakotay inflicted, using the collar, or beating
Tom, sometimes whipping him, or raping him and humiliating him.  Tom
was an extremely stubborn young man, with a great deal of courage,
which he did not recognise he had, but he was only Human, he could be
broken and he was perilously near that point.  He
now obeyed Chakotay immediately, because he was too afraid not too. 
But he never ceased to dream of escape, to learn all that he could
about the Empire in the hope of freedom.  Tom clung to this thought,
while he still thought of freedom he had not been completely
conquered.

Sometimes, however, when Tom was at his most despairing, he would
dizzily begin to think that maybe Chakotay was right, that his proper
place in life was as Chakotay's slave, but then he would remind
himself that he had had another life where he was a respected and
valued senior officer on Voyager and the best damn pilot there was! 
However Chakotay's constant comments had an inevitable effect on Tom. 
His self-esteem had never been particularly strong to begin with and
the only person he saw on a regular basis, who constantly told him
that he was most suited to be a plaything, was Chakotay. At times it
was difficult for Tom not to believe Chakotay was right, in his heart
he could never quite see why anyone would want to be his friend, to
spend time with him, worthless coward as he was.  But, no matter what
Chakotay did to him, he never forgot his piloting skills, Tom clung to
that thought with grim determination; this was one area where he knew
he had value no matter what Chakotay said.  But there were times when
his former life appeared fuzzy and unreal to him, he was very afraid 
at those times, forcing himself to remember Voyager, the people whom 
he considered to be his friends there and freedom.  He would also 
reflect on his life to date, and took a kind of perverse pleasure in
remembering his troubled relationship with his father.  At least this
proved he had had a life before becoming Chakotay's captive.

---

Kira came up to Chakotay one evening when he was sitting in the
gardens, looking up at the stars wistfully.  He smiled at her, happy 
to see her.  She had proven to be an exemplary host, concerned that he 
was not bored, introducing him to other denizens of the monastery, 
some permanent, others visiting like himself. Many of the people there 
were scientists, artists or scholars.  Entertaining company was never 
hard to find, although his constant worry about Paris was always at 
the back of his mind.  He was also missing Voyager, particularly 
Kathryn, whom he now accounted one of his closest friends and 
B'Elanna. He was even missing Tuvok.  However, he had resolved to make 
the most of his stay in this universe, to learn as much as he could, 
explorer at heart that he was.  He was amused to note that the Vedek 
possessed quite a temper, having seen her lay into someone who she 
considered had been cruel to another.  She had caught sight of his 
amused face and asked him, rather testily, what was so funny.

"Oh, nothing.  Just that you remind me of your counterpart."

She made a face.  "I still find it difficult to accept that she's a
terrorist."

"Freedom fighter," Chakotay corrected.  "And last I heard she was
second in command on DS9."

"But still in the military.  Here I was thinking my calling's so
strong,
that whatever else I am, I'd always be a Vedek."

"Who knows.  But here, from what I can see, you're a wonderful Vedek."

She smiled.  "Thank you. I think I'm blushing!"

On the whole the peaceful atmosphere should have been conducive to
meditation, but unfortunately, Chakotay's spirit guide was not
co-operating, his meditations were invariably unsuccessful, his mind
being consumed by worry for Tom.  Kira sat by him, joining him in
looking at the stars for a while, before saying:  "Still not able to
relax?"

He nodded.  Chakotay and Kira had enjoyed their discussions on their
respective religions, finding that they had much in common.  Kira
especially had been fascinated by the concept of the spirit guide,
finding echoes of the Prophets there.  "I was wondering..." she began.

"Ye-es," he grinned at her.

"I've told you about the Eye of the Prophets, well, would you like to
have a look into it, see if the Prophets can help you with what's been
troubling you."

"I'd be honoured," he gasped.  "But isn't it reserved for Bajorans
only, followers of the Prophets?"

She gave him a surprised look.  "Of course not, the Prophets will help
anyone in need.  The Eye has been used for thousands of years, when we
made contact with other races, we extended it to them."

"From what I've heard, the Eye was lost by Bajor for a while in my
universe, maybe that's why it's different there."

"Maybe," agreed Kira, clearly disapproving of the concept that the Eye
wasn't available to anyone, of whatever race, in need.  She stood up
and took his hand.  "Come with me."

In her office, Chakotay paused to admire the casing which held the Eye
of the Prophets.  "Isn't it usually held in the main hall?" he asked.

"Yes, unless it's being used.  I hoped you would want to look into it,
so I brought it here.  I'll leave you alone now.  Take as long as you
want."

"Wait! What do I do."

"Just open it and look," she replied.

Chakotay settled himself into a seat, the Eye opposite him and opened
the casing.  The bright light of the Eye hit him, but even as he
squinted, there was a flash.  Suddenly he was seeing Tom Paris for the
first time, spying the beautiful young man across the room.  He
recalled how his groin had tightened at the sight of him, before his
companion had pointed out that that was their contact, Paris.  The
desire had changed to contempt, for the liar, the screw up, the
Admiral's son who had had everything, but thrown it all away.  Flash,
there were he and Paris yelling at one another, Paris protesting that
the ship they were giving him to fly wasn't spaceworthy, him ordering
Paris to fly it anyway, if he wanted to be a Maquis.  Flash, there he
was again, when first transported to Voyager, squaring up to fight
Paris, before Janeway had intervened.  Flash, there was Paris risking
his life to rescue him on the Ocampa homeworld.  Flash, there he was
watching Paris playing pool, uniform stretching over his ass as he
leaned over to take a shot.  Flash, there Paris was again, provoking 
him, mouthing off at him, all in an attempt to make everyone believe 
he wanted to leave Voyager.  Flash, there they both were, laughing 
over a joke the young man had made. Flash, there was Tom, naked, 
kissing him, making love to him.  Flash, there he was holding Tom, 
naked in his arms, watching him sleep.  Flash; he was back in Kira's 
office again.

Chakotay sat there, stunned.  Was *that* what it was, all that
hostility towards Paris.  //Admit it,// he told himself.  //You want 
him, you always have, from the first time you saw him.  So, I want 
him, so what.  It's not like I'm ever going to have him, not the way 
our relationship is now.  That must be why I'm so disturbed that it's 
my counterpart that has him.//

Chakotay sighed, OK now he knew why he was so worried.  Then he
remembered the last image, the one where he was holding Tom, as he
slept.  That image had nothing to do with lust, but everything to do
with... love?  Chakotay slumped back into the seat, realising at last
that he loved Tom Paris, not just lusted after him.  That was why the
hostility, because he didn't want to admit it even to himself that he
was in love with a man who had seemed to be without morals, without
ideals, a coward. 

//But that's not true,// he told himself, //it took guts to own up
after Caldik Prime.  His courage can't be faulted,// he thought
remembering all the times Tom had put himself on the line for his ship
mates, even in the early days when he had been almost universally
despised.  //And he does have morals, he just doesn't like to admit
it.  He's actually a fine person, deny it though he might.//

But even when most of the rest of the crew had long since come round,
Chakotay had held onto his feelings of distrust, as a shield he now
realised, because he hadn't thought, after all that had happened
between them, that Tom would ever want him too.

He sighed heavily. //OK, now I know.  Now I have to concentrate on
rescuing him, that's the important thing.  Spirits,// he thought in
dismay, //rescue him from being abused by my counterpart.  Now he'll
never... never want me.//  He buried his head in his hands as the full
irony of the situation struck him.

---

As the weeks of his captivity lengthened, Tom grew more and more
worried about his ability to hold out against Chakotay, to not 
surrender to him completely by ceasing to think of escape.  His 
situation was not helped by the fact that he was not allowed to leave 
Chakotay's quarters.  The only person he saw other than Chakotay was 
Miller and that was only when he came to fix Tom's injuries when 
Chakotay hurt him physically.  His isolation was quite deliberate on 
Chakotay's part, as a method of making Tom even more dependent on him.  
The crew were forbidden to enter Chakotay's quarters without 
permission, and on the rare occasions when the Captain did invite a 
member of the crew back to his quarters, Tom was confined to another 
room, usually the bedroom, where Chakotay would chain him naked to the 
bed, invariably coming to him once the crew member had left and using 
him vigorously.

Paradoxically, however, Tom did not find it most difficult to resist
when Chakotay was at his most brutal.   Tom shuddered remembering a
time when Chakotay had come into his quarters in a foul mood.  Tom had
been kneeling there, waiting for him, as usual.  Chakotay had said
nothing but seized Tom by the arm, dragged him to his feet, torn off
his tunic and chained him standing upright to the wall, arms above his
head.  He had stripped off his own uniform and then whipped Tom until
the blood had run freely down his back, Tom biting his lip till it
bled to avoid crying out, but his silence had only spurred Chakotay to
greater brutality until Tom had been unable to restrain his screams. 
Once Tom had voiced his pain, Chakotay had kicked Tom's legs apart and
fucked the young man violently as he hung in the chains, grinding his
torso into the blood on Tom's back, increasing Tom's agony.  When
Chakotay had finished he left Tom hanging there for a while, enjoying
the sight, excited by the blood on Tom's back and also leaking from
his anus, together with Tom's groans that he was unable to keep from
vocalising.  But when Chakotay had eventually let Tom free he had
tended to the younger man's wounds himself, rather than calling 
Miller, tenderly bathing Tom and using the regenerator to heal his 
injuries, concerned that Tom should not be permanently marked, that 
nothing should mar his beauty. Later, Tom had learned from accessing 
the publicly available ships logs, that that day Chakotay had had 
contact with Captain Paris' ship and had spoken to his counterpart.  
He had then taken out his ill humour on Tom.

Chakotay would sometimes order Tom to beg Chakotay to fuck him. 
Although Tom had initially refused, the collar had soon taught him
otherwise, and now he obeyed immediately.  But the only times that Tom
begged Chakotay to take him without being ordered to do so were when
Chakotay forced him to ingest the aphrodisiac.  Then, Tom could not
help himself; it was impossible to resist the aphrodisiac's insidious
effects.  The Captain particularly enjoyed himself at these times,
this was even more satisfying than raping Tom, or chaining him, or
whipping him.  This was when Tom felt most degraded and Chakotay knew
it.  He would laugh at Tom mockingly, calling him a slut, telling him
he was born to the collar, before he would accede to Tom's pleading,
or not, as the mood took him.  However Chakotay himself was usually
too excited by Tom's humiliation to resist taking the young man.  He
also taught Tom that if he wanted to come then he must please Chakotay
completely.  Tom became very inventive at these times, desperate for
release as he was.  But fortunately for Tom the older man simply could
not use the aphrodisiac too much on him, because frequent use could 
damage the user irrevocably, and Chakotay was very careful that this 
did not happen to him. Chakotay tended to save the aphrodisiac for 
"special occasions". But Tom hated these times the most, he preferred 
the pain of being raped with no preparation, or being chained and 
whipped, to the effects of the aphrodisiac.

But the absolutely worst time had been when, about ten weeks into
Tom's captivity, the Extreme had captured a rebel ship.  The 
unfortunate Cardassians and scattering of other races who crewed the 
vessel had not been able to self destruct the ship before it was 
boarded and many of them had been captured alive.  Following this 
victory, Chakotay had entered his quarters in a jubilant mood, telling 
Tom that he had a surprise for him.  A few moments later Miller had 
pushed a beautiful female Trill, who was very young, only just out of 
her teens, into the room.  She had been arrayed as Chakotay liked in a 
skimpy semi-transparent tunic.  She was obviously terrified.  The 
Captain had gloated at her fear and pulled her towards Tom, telling 
him to fuck her while he watched, but to pull out before he came, 
warning him that he didn't want his slave to expend himself on her.  
Tom was unable to become aroused in the face of her terror, causing 
Chakotay to threaten Tom with punishment with the collar if he didn't 
comply.  Tom stroked himself to hardness and approached the cowering 
woman.  He tried to be as gentle with her as possible, which didn't 
please Chakotay, who pushed Tom impatiently aside and raped her.  All 
that night he forced Tom and the young woman, whose name Tom never 
knew, to pleasure him and also each other, but with their hands and 
mouths only, Tom was not permitted to enter her again, while the older 
man watched or joined in as the mood took him.  When morning came, he
casually slit the woman's throat in front of a disbelieving Tom, who
was unable to prevent it, chained as he was to the bed.  Chakotay had
then stretched casually, and left to clean himself up, telling Tom
that he would get Miller to "clean up the mess," and tend to Tom's
injuries, as Chakotay admitted that he, "had got a tad carried away
again, but it's really your fault, you inspire me," as he left his
quarters. 

Tom looked at the body of the young woman sprawled in death on the
floor, looked at the wreckage of what had been a living, breathing
intelligent being, whose life Chakotay had snuffed out without a
second thought, and buried his face in the pillows on the bed, his
whole body shaking with a mixture of grief, anger and fear.

However, what Tom feared more than the times Chakotay was at his most
brutal, or sadistic, humiliating Tom, was when Chakotay was tender
with him, arousing Tom slowly and entering him gently, concerned that
Tom should experience pleasure as well as himself.  After these
sessions, Chakotay would frequently hold him, stroking his pale skin,
telling him how beautiful he was, how Chakotay would always take care
of him, discussing his hopes and dreams for the future, telling Tom
about himself.  

Tom learned that the Captain had had a "difficult" relationship with
his father, and felt a shock of unwilling empathy as a result. 
However, although Tom and his father had had their problems and the
memories were still sharp, even now in captivity, Chakotay had
actually been abused by his father.  Chakotay didn't put it like that,
seemed to think the way he had been treated was normal (and maybe in
this universe it was, Tom wondered), but by Tom's standards, the
regular beatings and other punishments Chakotay had received if he was
not first in all of his classes counted as abuse. 

Chakotay, however was approving of his father's behaviour, because he
was of the opinion that he would not have risen to his present
position, nor increased his family's wealth and estates, without that
discipline.  He was incapable of considering that it was possible to
succeed through self-discipline and gentle encouragement. Tom asked if
his father had loved him, to which Chakotay had sneered in response,
love?  "It doesn't exist", he told Tom, but he knew that his father
was proud of him, *that* was what counted, the increase in his
family's fortunes that Chakotay had achieved was what mattered.  Tom
discerned that this Chakotay, in common with his counterpart, had a
strong sense of family, he considered himself as the head of his
family, in which he included all those on his vast estates.

At other times Chakotay would reminisce fondly about his first slaves. 
He had been brought up primarily by the household slaves, both of his
parents pursuing their own pleasures.  The family back then had not
been particularly rich, but Tom discovered that this was a relative 
term. Certainly Chakotay had grown up with tremendous power over the
household servants, who lived in fear of displeasing him once he 
reached the age of fourteen, which was accounted a sufficient age for 
being able to personally own slaves.  However, he had also been taught 
to be thrifty, and did not usually dispose of slaves for no reason.  
Tom was silent at this, thinking of the female prisoner whom Chakotay 
had so casually murdered, but Chakotay explained that as a rebel she 
was under sentence of death in any event.  He had not had her executed
immediately because she was beautiful and he had been, "in the mood to
play".  The casual callousness of that statement filled Tom with
horror.

After Chakotay had made this brutal statement however he had rolled
over in the bed from where he had been lying on his back, idly
caressing Tom's body with his hand.  He took Tom in his arms.

"You don't need to fear that I would ever do that to you, you know,"
he said, almost... tenderly.  "I have no intention of ever letting you
go, you please me far too much.  In fact," he mused, "you please me
more than any slave I have ever had."  He ran his hand wonderingly
down Tom's face and whispered "You're so beautiful," seizing the young
man's head in his hands and kissing him gently.  "No," he continued
"I'm never letting you go.  When we get back to my estates, you'll
accompany me on the hunt; you'll like that won't you.  I know that
you're cooped up here, I can't help that, but when we're there, the
hunting is superb.  You'll attend me, you'll love the countryside and
the fresh air."   Chakotay enthused on, while Tom, with a sick feeling
in his gut, was wondering exactly what it was that Chakotay hunted,
please god, nothing intelligent.  The hell of it was that Chakotay was
right, he *was* incredibly bored, even with the ever present
undercurrent of fear which he lived with, he lacked stimulus.  Tom's
greatest fear continued to be that one day he would come to accept his
captivity; he sometimes had trouble really remembering what it was
like to be free, to be something other than Chakotay's plaything.  But
then he would glance at the stars, visible through the large view
screens in Chakotay's quarters. No, he would never accept captivity,
not when he so longed to fly.

Tom was most afraid at these times because Chakotay actually succeeded
in making him feel almost... loved, treating him like a lover, rather
than a possession or a conquest.  It was also at these times that the
boundaries Tom maintained in his mind between this Chakotay and
Voyager's Chakotay were at their most blurred.  He sometimes wondered
whether his former life had been a dream, whether this had always been
the reality.  Fortunately for Tom's peace of mind, however, Chakotay
was never consistent, and following a bout of tenderness, he could
then be outright brutal, whipping or beating Tom, or sadistic, forcing
Tom to take the aphrodisiac and then laughing at Tom's degradation. 
Tom wondered whether Chakotay felt that showing the slightest sign of
tenderness was a weakness that should be avoided, whether he was
determined to exorcise it by tormenting Tom, or whether this was all
part of Chakotay's strategy, to deliberately keep Tom off balance.

---

On Bajor, Chakotay was waiting impatiently for news from Seska.  Now
that he finally realised the truth of his feelings for the young pilot
his longing to rescue him had, if anything, intensified.  He was not
sleeping well, dreams of making love with Tom interspersed with
nightmares of Tom screaming, injured and in pain, as a man wearing his
own face tortured the young man.  Kira had observed the symptoms of
sleeplessness with concern, noting the dark circles under his eyes. 
At first she said nothing, but as they were walking together in the
gardens one day she tackled him about it.

"I haven't asked you what you saw, when you looked into the Eye," she
began. "That's your business alone, but, I am concerned that it
doesn't seem to have helped you.  If anything you're less relaxed than
when you arrived." She held up a hand to still his protest.  "I know
you're worried about your ship mate, but this goes beyond that."

He shook his head.  "Actually, it doesn't.  When I looked into the
Eye, I realised something.  I'm in love with him."

"Who?  Tom Paris."

"Uh huh.  It's... difficult, knowing that he's being held, being hurt
by my counterpart.  I..." he sighed.  "I'm having nightmares about
it."

Kira looked at him with compassion.  "I'm sorry.  That must be hard to
deal with."  She placed her hand on his arm.  "If you like I'll see if
I can get a message to Seska, see if you can rescue him now."

"Seska sent me a message last week.  Short of the Alliance declaring
war, at present she can get me on board, but not off it again, and I
can't do it alone.  I know that she'd like to help now, but she says
when she does she's not going to be able to go back and that she needs
to find out this information first."

"What information?"

"I don't know.  It's classified.  But I believe her that she'd like to
help now but can't."  He laughed ruefully.  "It's funny, I used to
think I was so in control. I'd meditate the hostile feelings, the
anxiety away.  But where Tom's concerned I can't seem to do that,
can't even subdue my anxiety enough to allow me to function properly."

"Have you ever thought that might be one reason you love him?  The
fact that you are out of control where he's concerned."

Chakotay looked startled.  "Hmm, no I hadn't.  I'll have to think
about that.  I do know that at times he irritates the hell out of me.  
Maybe there's something in what you say."

She smiled at him.  "Let me tell you about a man I loved.  Rennis
Berel.  We used to argue all the time, but Prophets, the making up was
fun!  I never felt so alive as when I was with him..." She trailed
off, a reflective smile on her face.

"What happened?"  Chakotay asked.

"He died, several years ago, shortly after I became a Vedek.  He was
saving a bunch of idiotic tourists who were where they shouldn't be,
too near a star gone nova.  That was so typical of him."

"Sounds like Tom."

"Really.  Then I envy you."

"You shouldn't.  I don't expect that he'll ever love me.  Not now. 
Not after what's happened."

"Maybe.  Maybe not.  Try not to give up hope.  I have faith that
you'll rescue him and then who knows."

As they walked, Chakotay caught sight of a familiar face, as the man
hurried past, eyes on the ground.  "Who was that?"

"A refugee.  Name's Lon Suder."

"Suder!" Chakotay echoed, startled.

"You know him? His counterpart?"

"Yes." He hesitated.  "I think I should tell you that his counterpart
was a killer, wasn't able to help himself."

"I'll keep an eye on him, but I doubt that poor man will kill anyone. 
He's Betazoid you see."

At Chakotay's uncomprehending look, she explained that the Empire
considered Betazoids to be a threat because of their telepathic
abilities, and had ordered that all Betazoids be killed on sight. 
However, Human/Betazoid hybrids were highly prized, because their
empathy could be used, twisted to control others without actually
being able to read minds.  The Empire was involved in a eugenics
programme to breed Human/Betazoid hybrids.  Chakotay listened to this
silently, dismayed at yet more evidence of the Empire's infamy.

---

As time passed, Captain Chakotay found that his feelings for his slave
changed.  He ceased to think of Tom in comparison with his counterpart
and focussed more and more on Tom alone.  In the back of his mind
Chakotay knew that he was becoming obsessed with his latest
acquisition (not realising that he had transferred his obsession with
Captain Paris to Tom, but in so doing it had, if anything,
intensified).  He had never spent so much time thinking about one of
his slaves, or indeed any bed partner he'd ever had, including Tom's
counterpart.  While on the bridge, when not busy, he would find
himself dwelling on Tom, savouring the thought of what he was going to
do to him when he came off shift.  He would fantasise about licking
the lovely pale skin, driving Tom into screaming surrender, possessing
him.  But it was not just Tom's body that Chakotay enjoyed; he liked
talking to Tom, finding him to be intelligent, erudite and well
informed.  Chakotay was  particularly impressed with Tom's knowledge
of history, although of course
the Empire's was very different from that of the Federation.  Chakotay
had remembered sourly Captain Paris' tendency to sarcasm, which had
frequently been turned on him.  He had made sure that he trained Tom
out of that habit very quickly, he mused, the boy had as a consequence
become someone who he really found to be a pleasure to talk to. 
Chakotay much enjoyed their discussions, having giving Tom permission
to vocalise freely, being genuinely interested in his opinions.

Tom also actually found some satisfaction in their discussions,
because while they lasted he had some surcease from the hell that was 
usually his life.  He could pretend that he was discussing these 
issues with Voyager's Chakotay, rather than his master, although he 
never forgot himself so completely as to give free rein to what had 
been his normal casual style; he could not joke with this Chakotay and 
did not dare to offer up any comment that could be interpreted as 
disrespectful.  In the early days of his captivity he had sometimes 
been unable to restrain himself from making a sarcastic comment. But 
this, more than anything else Tom did, seemed to infuriate Chakotay, 
and had earned him the most vicious punishment, so much so that Tom 
was unable to avoid shuddering at the memory.  He was now no longer 
even tempted to make a smart remark; the fear of punishment was too 
great.  Tom also realised that the conversations were a good way of 
making sure that his mind remained active and would even argue a 
political point with Chakotay, when the Captain indicated that he 
should do so.   But then the Captain would say something jarring that 
Tom knew his Chakotay would never say, perhaps about how using force 
was always the right solution, or scoffing at the idea of being 
willing to sacrifice himself for the common good, and Tom would be 
thrown right back into the living nightmare that was his life.

Chakotay was becoming worried about this obsession; he knew that it
was not healthy, but it had not affected his performance as Captain to
date, and even if it did, he doubted he would be able to do the
sensible thing and dispose of Tom. 

//Of course what I should do if I lose my edge as Captain,// he mused
to himself, //is sell Thomas// he would no doubt bring a high price,
there would be collectors who would be willing to pay for Tom because
of his beauty, intelligence and undoubted talent as a bed partner, but
in addition there would be those who would relish the undoubted fillip
of his resemblance to Captain Paris.  He would bring a high price
indeed, but Chakotay knew that he would never sell him; no one would
ever possess Tom but him.  He would kill him before he would sell him.

Chakotay had insisted from the beginning that Tom slept with him every
night, sometimes chained to the bed, as Chakotay's mood took him, by a
wrist or an ankle, but always held in Chakotay's arms.  Chakotay loved
to wake up to the feel of holding Tom and would sometimes watch Tom
while he slept, marvelling at his beauty, at how young and innocent he
looked. Chakotay would often curse at himself for a self-indulgent
fool, mooning over a slave like that and frequently would then take
Tom without preliminaries, Tom  sometimes waking out of sleep to the
feel of Chakotay sharply penetrating him.  Although he didn't
recognise it, Chakotay's feelings for Tom were in fact a twisted kind
of love, or as close to it as the man was capable of, in his case
manifesting itself as an obsession, a need to possess.  But he was
determined that no one should hurt Tom (not even subconsciously
recognising that he was, in fact, the one person who was hurting him);
he would kill to protect Tom, as well as to possess him.  Chakotay
knew only one thing; he would never let Tom go.

The rest of the officers had noticed Chakotay's extreme
possessiveness. They questioned Miller about Tom, although most of 
them knew what he looked like, as Captain Paris, being a scion of the 
Imperial Family, was well known in the Empire, famed for his good 
looks, piloting skills and also known as having a certain skill in 
command.  It was recognised that even if Captain Paris had been a 
hopeless commander, he would still have been given command of a ship 
because of his familial connections, but in this case the young man 
did actually have some talent, having acquitted himself well in 
battle. Most of the crew on the Extreme were aware of Chakotay's past 
relationship with Captain Paris (their break-up having become public 
knowledge) and agreed good-humouredly that this no doubt gave an extra 
fillip to his possession of Tom.  But they were not accustomed to the 
fact that Chakotay did not let Tom out of his quarters; it had 
previously been Chakotay's habit to dine with his officers on a 
rotation basis, to get to know them (and thus maintain control over 
them).

On these occasions he would be attended by at least one, sometimes
more, of his personal attendants, who were invariably beautiful,
whether male or female, and most skilled.  It had also been his custom
to reward an officer who had performed particularly well with the
services of one of his slaves, but none of the crew, with the
exception of Miller, and the crew who had seen Tom before he was first
taken to Chakotay's quarters, got the slightest glimpse of Tom.  The
fact that Chakotay's former slaves had been distributed (on loan,
Chakotay was not fool enough to give away his slaves, unless as an
exceptional reward) to some of the senior officers did help to assuage
their disappointment at not seeing Tom, but most were in agreement
that the fact that he was the double of Captain Paris and a Human to
boot, added an extra fillip to his desirability.  The fact that
Chakotay was so possessive led to several crude jokes about his
undoubted talents at pleasing his owner.

---

On Bajor, Chakotay was still waiting, but his patience was wearing
thin and he was looking more and more haunted.  The enforced
inactivity was getting to him as well, notwithstanding his pleasure in
his surroundings and the company.  He was in the midst of a discussion
about lucid dreaming, when a messenger asked him to come to Vedek
Kira's office.  Once there, he discovered Seska waiting for him.  His
face lit up - at last!  She squirmed uncomfortably when she saw his
joyful expression.

"I'm sorry, I'm not here to tell you that we're ready to rescue him,"
she said without preamble.  Chakotay's face fell.  "Have you been told
that the wormhole won't open for another six weeks?"

"Yes, but I hoped we could get Tom now."

"I'm sorry, but I actually came here to ask for your help in respect
of my mission.  Once it's been completed I promise you that we'll go
get Paris then."

"I see.  And if I don't help you, then no rescue mission, right."

She looked shocked.  "Of course not!  We'll go to get your man no
matter what.  But if you were prepared to help us, it'll mean my 
chances of success are much greater.  I won't lie to you though.  It's 
risky, very risky."

Chakotay though furiously.  Would him helping them violate the Prime
Directive?  They weren't a less advanced culture after all.  He made
his decision quickly, these were good people, they had shown him every
hospitality and had expressed themselves willing to risk themselves to
help him and Tom.  How could he not help them?

"OK, tell me what you want me to do."

Her expression lightened.  "You'll help us, without even knowing what
we want?"

"So long as you promise me that whatever happens, you'll free Tom."

"I promise.  How about if I brief you over dinner..."

---

Tom was, as usual, in Chakotay's quarter's one day approximately three
and a half months after he was captured.  He was working out in the
gym, which he did for at least a couple of hours every day, injuries
permitting, more out of boredom than anything else.  He was reflecting
ruefully to himself that he was probably in the best shape he'd been
in years, when he felt the ship shudder; they were under attack!  Tom
felt a stirring of hope; maybe the rebels would prevail, in which
case, in which case, possibly there would be an end to his captivity. 
He held his breath hardly daring to hope.  The battle was soon over;
shortly he heard the Captain's voice proclaiming victory.  He
shuddered in disappointment and turned back to his exercises, throwing
himself into them in an attempt to assuage his dismay, when the door
opened.  He turned, startled, to see Chakotay standing there, eyes
gleaming.  Tom immediately dropped to his knees as he had been taught.
Chakotay approached him swiftly, unzipping his trousers as he did so. 
He tore Tom's exercise singlet and shorts off him, forced him to his
hands and knees and entered his slave immediately.  Tom bit his lip to
avoid vocalising his pain as Chakotay thrust into him roughly, the 
force of the penetration sending him to his elbows, Chakotay bellowing 
into his climax, collapsing on top of Tom, forcing him to the floor.  
Chakotay licked at Tom's neck, tasting the sweat from his exercises.

"Tonight," he panted, still recovering his breath, "we feast to
celebrate our victory.  You'll serve me at the feast."   Tom lay there
half-crushed under Chakotay's sturdy weight, disbelieving what he had
heard.  Did this mean that he was finally to be allowed out of
Chakotay's quarters?  Then he thought with sudden unease as to what
serving might mean in this context.


That evening at 20.30 hours Tom left Chakotay's quarters for the first
time since being brought there when first captured.  Four of
Chakotay's part-Klingon bodyguards fell in silently behind.  Chakotay 
initially strode ahead, but then stopped and ordered Tom to precede 
him, enjoying the view as the younger man moved gracefully along the
corridors, dressed in a short tunic of Chakotay's dark blue and gold
livery.  They passed no-one as they moved to the messhall, the rest of
the crew, and their servants, if chosen to accompany their masters,
confined to quarters if not, were already in place, awaiting their
Captain.  Tom concentrated on looking at the décor and layout of the
ship, in an attempt to alleviate the anxiety he felt twisting inside
him.  He was afraid of what was to happen next, and apprehensive at
eing in an unfamiliar place after so long in Chakotay's quarters.  Tom
noted that the corridors were richly appointed, but not so much that
the décor would impede efficiency.

As they reached the enormous doors that were the entrance to the
messhall, Chakotay strode in ahead of Tom, an enormous cheer going up
as the crew recognised their Captain; now the feast could begin. 
Chakotay made his way to the dais where his senior officers were
awaiting him, Tom following self-consciously behind, feeling himself
to be the centre of all eyes.  Tom was correct; everyone in the room
was avidly watching the young man, curious to see the slave who had so
entranced their Captain.  Tom dizzily recognised several of the faces
as members of the Maquis who had accompanied Chakotay onto Voyager,
although their presence here was no surprise to him, as he had studied
the crew complement which was easily available to him from the
computer, not being classified information.

When Chakotay reached the podium he took the centre seat, an enormous
throne like chair, flanked by Seska and Dalby, who was the Second
Officer.  Tom stood behind Chakotay's chair, recognising that several
other slaves were similarly standing behind various officers. 
Chakotay indicated that the crew should sit and the feast begin.  Tom
was almost overwhelmed by the sight before him, no one was in uniform,
all were wearing rich clothing, of various colours.  The crew, mostly
Human, tended to be in sombre colours, but the materials were very
rich. By contrast their non-Human slaves were dressed in skimpy,
brightly coloured attire, resembling a flock of brightly  plumed
birds.  Tom stood out even from the other slaves, not just because he
was Human, but also because his tunic was dark in colour.  He was very
easily spotted, and knew that he was being frequently stared at,
unable to keep from blushing in response, cursing his fair skin.

Tom knew that he was meant to go the serving hatch to bring back the
delicacies to be enjoyed by the senior officers, as Miller had
explained to him that afternoon.  Chakotay glanced over at Seska who
was unaccompanied by a servant.

"Where's that pretty boy of yours?" he enquired.  "What's his name?
Geron?"

"In my quarters," Seska replied casually.  "He's been a bad boy
recently, he's being punished and isn't, er, able to attend."

Chakotay nodded knowingly.  "Well I can't have you with no one to look
after you.  Thomas here will wait on us both, but," he said warningly,
"only during dinner."

"I understand," Seska said in reply.  Chakotay took Paris' arm and
pulled him down to his knees between Seska and Chakotay.  Although Tom
knew that Seska was the First Officer of the Extreme he had not, of
course, met her before.  He was curious as to whether she really was
Cardassian, in which case she might be a spy, but he did not entertain
any hopes that she would help him, even if that were the case,
remembering the Seska on Voyager.

"This is Commander Seska," Chakotay said.  "You'll wait on her as well
as me tonight.  You will address her as Commander."

Tom nodded.  "Yes, my lord," was all he said.  He got to his feet and
went to the serving hatch.

Seska watched him appreciatively.  "He's beautiful Captain," she said.
Chakotay simply smiled at her in agreement.  On his other side, Dalby
whistled.

"*Very* nice, Captain," he said, following Tom's movements with hooded
eyes. "And bearing such a striking resemblance to Captain Paris as he
does, well, it must add some spice so to speak."

Chakotay frowned as he grunted in agreement.  Dalby was a brutal thug,
with no refinement that Chakotay had ever been able to determine, but
he was useful.  No one in the crew would dream about assassinating
either he or Seska if Dalby was next in line, plus he was most
efficient at installing terror when required.  No subtlety or
imagination, but that also made him less of a threat.

The feast was not an enjoyable experience for Tom.  On one hand he was
at last out of Chakotay's quarters, but on the other...  He knew he
was being stared at by the crew, that comments were being made about
his appearance, his body, how he moved, how good he was sexually.  At
last the crew could indulge their curiosity about the slave who had so
enthralled their Captain. As for the other slaves, most of them
ignored him, intent on serving their own masters, but there was one
very beautiful woman, of a race that he didn't recognise, who stared
at him in hatred.  Tom had no idea why, until she deliberately tripped
him, sending him flying on his way to deposit some used plates to the
serving hatch.  Fortunately, the noise level in the room was such that
the clatter of dishes as they fell to the floor, rolling and bouncing,
was not heard.  Tom jumped to his feet, eyes blazing, to encounter a
triumphant smirk on her face.  He started towards her angrily, only to
find Miller blocking his way.  Miller turned to the woman and sharply
told her to watch her behaviour, or he would report her to the Captain
who would *not* be pleased.  The woman turned pale and retreated
hastily to the serving hatch.

Tom turned to Miller, who was watching her, hands on hips.  Tom folded
his arms and, in his annoyance forgetting his status, said
indignantly, "What was that all about?"

Miller turned to look at Tom.  He raised an eyebrow at Tom's stance,
thinking to himself //The Captain thinks that this one's tamed does
he? Better think again.// 

However, Miller had no intention of saying anything to Chakotay, what
and miss all the fun?  "She used to be Chakotay's favourite until you
came along.  She resents the loss of position," was all that Miller
said.  Tom couldn't help reflecting on the irony of the situation.
Here he was desperate to escape and she *wanted* Chakotay.  He felt a
sudden urge to laugh, but simply nodded, and bent down to clear away
the mess.

As the feast wore on, the crew became drunk.  The wine was flowing
freely, of exquisite quality, none of it replicated.  The Humans of
the Empire lived in high style indeed.  Tom thought of other societies
he had read about, which wallowed in decadence as all the evidence he
had seen indicated that the Empire did.  They had not lasted and Tom
hoped vindictively that neither would this one, thinking to himself, 
//and if there's anything I can do to speed it along, just let me
know.// 

Tom was unconsciously revelling in the freedom of being out of
Chakotay's quarters, even in these circumstances. The effect was to
bring more of his suppressed character closer to the surface; he was
thinking and acting more like his old self.  The crew was now grabbing
freely at the slaves.  By no means all of the crew had a personal
slave, although all of the officers had at least one.  As Tom watched
in disbelief a couple of the crew, a man and a woman, swept the table
near them clean, the beautiful china and glass falling unheeded to the
floor, and grabbed one of the slaves and threw her on the table.  The
man tore off the woman's tunic and mounted her, to the accompaniment
of cheers from the surrounding crew.  This seemed to be some sort of
signal.  As Tom watched in frozen horror, more and more of the crew
accosted the slaves, who sometimes feebly made an effort to resist,
but more often acquiesced meekly to their fate.

He instinctively felt that someone was watching him and turned to see
Chakotay's glittering eyes on him.  The officers on the dais were not
joining in the orgy, but were watching with indulgent approval; the
crew had done well today, let them have their fun.  Chakotay beckoned
to Tom, who moved towards him slowly, fearing what was to come next. 
Chakotay grabbed Tom and pulled his lips down to his, where he
thoroughly, and at his leisure, kissed the young man, raping the
inside of Tom's mouth with his tongue, to the accompaniment of cheers
and whistles from the nearby crew. Chakotay's lips parted from Tom's
at last.  The Captain looked up, his face was flushed and his eyes
were dilated with desire.  He pulled the young man into his arms,
running his hand up Tom's thigh, as he kissed him again.  The crew
were enjoying the display, but Chakotay reluctantly released Tom and
adjusted the collar's distance setting, using the wristband.

"Go to my quarters," he ordered.  "Prepare yourself and wait for me." 
Tom nodded wordlessly and left the room, thankful to be out of there,
even knowing what was to happen next.  Several pairs of eyes watched
him as he moved gracefully out of the room, although Chakotay appeared
to have turned his attention elsewhere.  Seska watched thoughtfully as
Dalby, accompanied by his bodyguards, shortly afterwards also left the
room.

Tom did not hurry back.  He did not think that Chakotay would be
following soon, from the conversation he had overheard it was
traditional for the Captain to make a speech, which Chakotay hadn't
given yet.  Tom didn't know why Chakotay had sent him away, but
decided to be thankful for small mercies, wincing to himself, //and
that's a dreadful cliché.  Mind you,// he thought to himself, the
whole Empire is one big cliché.  If I weren't in the middle of it, I'd
be tempted to laugh at it.//  Then he sobered, thinking sombrely //But
it's definitely *not* funny if you are in the middle of it.//

As he turned down an access corridor, thankful that he had memorised
the ship's layout, there was a sound from a nearby alcove, as Dalby
stepped into his path.  Tom recoiled from the stink of alcohol on
Dalby's breath.  He was obviously drunk.  Flanking Dalby was a couple
of the largest men Paris had ever seen.  They evidently were at least
part Klingon from their brow ridges.  Tom had a sudden fleeting
thought of B'Elanna.

Dalby grabbed his arm.  "Come with me."

"I'm sorry Commander," replied Tom, determined to try and reason with
the man, "but the Captain ordered me to his quarters."

Dalby looked Tom up and down.  "Pity," he said,  "well I guess I'll
have to make do with here then."  He stated to paw at Tom, reaching
for the fastening of his tunic, eyes glittering with a combination of 
alcohol and arousal.  Tom shoved him away, Dalby falling to the ground 
as he did so from the force of Tom's push.  "Seize him," Dalby yelled 
to his bodyguards.  Tom found himself to be helpless in their grip as 
each grabbed him by an arm. Dalby got to his feet and approached Tom,
leaning into his face.  Tom turned his face away from the stink of
alcohol on Dalby's breath.  Dalby was evidently too far-gone in drink
to be reasoned with and Tom was very much afraid he knew what was
going to happen next.  Dalby slapped him, knocking Tom's head to one
side.  Tom looked at him, murder in his eyes, blood trickling from his
split lip.  He might have to put up with Chakotay abusing him. But he
was not going to tamely accept being raped by Dalby, of all people.

"You'll pay for that," Dalby said leaning forward to lick at the blood
on Tom's lips.  Tom thought wearily, //Shit.  Can't any of these
people speak except in clichés?//  Dalby's breath really was foul, he
thought, as he attempted to turn his head away.

"Stretch out his arms," Dalby ordered his bodyguards.  He regarded Tom
with satisfaction, arms spread-eagled against the wall, reached for
Tom's tunic and tore, baring Tom to the waist where the tunic was
tied.  Dalby reached out a hand to caress Tom's chest when another
voice said coolly:

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."  It was Seska.  She was leaning
against the wall, arms crossed over her breasts, accompanied by four
Klingon/Human hybrids.  Dalby whirled to face her, saying
belligerently:

"It's none of your business!"

"Oh but it is," was the rejoinder.  "It is my business if the Captain
kills the Second Officer.  I then have to break in a new one and I
could really do without the inconvenience."

Dalby laughed.  "The captain won't kill me..."

"For taking one of his slaves?" Seska finished.  "Ordinarily I might
agree with you, but he's inordinately possessive about this one. 
*Think* Dalby," she finished impatiently.  She waited while what she
was saying permeated Dalby's brain, through the haze of alcohol and
lust.  He recalled that, contrary to his usual custom, the Captain had
kept this slave to himself for weeks and finally stepped away from
Tom, hands raised defensively, saying: "OK, OK."

Dalby's bodyguards released Tom and Dalby turned to go, Seska saying
as he did so:

"Oh and Dalby," he turned to face her.  "You do realise I'm going to
have to report this to the Captain, but I'll tell him you didn't hurt
his slave, much, so you'll probably get away with a beating."  Dalby
said nothing, but his eyes glittered with resentment as he turned to
leave.

Seska looked at Tom.  "Are you all right?" she asked.  Tom nodded. 
"Good," she said briskly.  "Then I suggest you get to the Captain's
quarters right away."

Tom started to move away, then turned;  "Commander," he said.  Seska
looked at him expectantly.  "Thank you," he said.

"Don't.  I was just doing my job," was the reply.  Tom shook his head,
but said nothing more.


When Tom reached Chakotay's quarters, he froze, noting that the
Captain's bodyguards were standing either side of the entrance.  Shit!
Chakotay had reached his quarters before Tom.  He took a deep breath
and entered, as an irate Chakotay whirled to face him.  "Where have
you been," Chakotay spat, then took in Tom's dishevelled appearance
and his eyes narrowed.  "What happened?" he demanded, just as his
combadge beeped.

"Captain, it's Seska.  I have to report an incident."

"Go ahead."

"It's Dalby, he assaulted your slave, but I stopped him before he did
any real damage."

"I see," said Chakotay tightly.  "Thank you Commander.  I'll deal with
it. Chakotay out."

He stepped forward and took Tom's chin in his hand, examining the
damage to his face.  "Are you OK?" he asked softly.  "Dalby didn't
hurt you?"

Tom felt an urge to laugh.  Here was Chakotay, who had tortured,
beaten, raped and humiliated him, asking him if he was all right, over 
a split lip! "I'm fine, my lord," was all he said.

Chakotay nodded curtly.  "Can you clean yourself up, or do you need
help?" he asked.

"I think I can manage," Tom said gravely with vast sarcasm, which
fortunately went over Chakotay's head, as Tom remembered the much
worse injuries inflicted by Chakotay which Tom had healed without any 
one else's help.

"Good.  I've got some business to take care of," said Chakotay as he
left the cabin abruptly.  He moved swiftly through the corridors of
the Extreme filled with a vast and awful rage, his bodyguards hurrying
to keep pace.  He reached Dalby's quarters and looked significantly at
Dalby's bodyguards flanking the entrance.  They moved away and
Chakotay entered without preamble.  He found Dalby sprawled on the
bed, snoring.  Chakotay filled a glass of water in the bathroom,
returned to the bedroom and threw it over Dalby who spluttered awake,
filled with rage, only to recoil when he saw his Captain leaning over
him.  Chakotay spoke in a very soft voice, filling Dalby with fear,
he'd heard that tone before.

"I've just received a very disturbing report from Seska.  Apparently
you accosted my slave, without permission.  Is this true?"  Dalby 
didn't move, frozen with fear.  "Is it?" repeated Chakotay.  Dalby 
nodded.

"But Captain..." he started to say.

"Shut up!  I don't want to hear it.  You don't touch anything of mine,
ever, without permission.  Is that clear?"  Dalby nodded.  "Good!"

Chakotay turned, as if to walk out of the room, then whirled round,
grabbed Dalby and hit him, over and over.  Dalby was stunned by the
assault, unable to protect himself. He fell to the floor, curled into
a ball, where Chakotay kicked him several times, observing with
satisfaction that Dalby was bleeding onto the floor.  He paused and
removed the agoniser from his belt, it was a little old fashioned, but
old did not necessarily mean obsolete. He touched it to Dalby's neck,
enjoying the resulting scream.  He was shaking with rage.  How *dare*
Dalby lay a finger on Thomas.  Thomas was his and his alone!  Chakotay
felt an almost irresistible urge to kill Dalby, for touching his
Thomas, for hurting his Thomas.  He used the agoniser again, this time
not stopping until Dalby lost consciousness.  He took a deep breath,
saying to himself, //calm, calm,// and exited, saying to Dalby's
bodyguards, "I suggest you call the Doctor", before hurrying back to
his own quarters anxious to see Tom.

---

After the feast, Chakotay often required Tom to attend him around the
ship, although not when he was on duty.  The Captain resumed dining
with his officers, expecting Tom to wait on him as he did so.  There
were no more attempts on Tom; the whole crew had heard what had
happened to Dalby.  The Second Officer gazed after Tom with resentful
eyes, but did not approach him.  These meals did not usually
degenerate into orgies, as the feast with the crew had, but on
occasion, a slave would be subject to public use. Chakotay would
usually avidly watch the performance before hurrying Tom back to his
quarters, or ordering him to go down on him in the relative privacy of
the turbolift, watched only by Chakotay's ever present bodyguards. 
Tom rew used to this, so that after the first few times he accepted
his fate with a sense of weary inevitability.

However there was one particularly unpleasant occasion when Chakotay
decided to use Tom to taunt Dalby.  The Captain had invited Seska,
Dalby and the ship's CMO, Commander Pulaski to his quarters.  Tom was
the only slave present.  Chakotay seized him by the arm as he knelt by
Chakotay's chair. There was an unpleasant gleam in the Captain's eye,
as he turned to Dalby, who was sitting on his left.

"How's that new girl of yours working out?" Chakotay enquired.

Dalby shrugged.  "Fine."

"Got her trained yet have you?"

"She's coming along."

"Good, good.  A highly trained slave, they're almost worth their
weight in latinum.  Now take Thomas here, he's *very* skilled I assure
you, but
stubborn, spirits yes.  I think that the stubborn ones make the best
slaves once tamed though.  Hmmm, maybe a little demonstration."  He
looked down at Tom, whose arm was still held in his grip.   "Stand
up," he ordered.  Tom obeyed silently; dreading what he feared was to
happen next.  "Strip," Chakotay demanded.  Tom did not dare disobey
and loosened his tunic.  "Turn round, slowly."  Tom obeyed, as
Chakotay glanced with glee at Dalby's face, the lust barely hidden.

Chakotay pondered to himself, should he really infuriate Dalby?  Hell
yes, this was fun!  "Kneel before me," he ordered his slave, watching
as Tom complied.  "A small demonstration of Thomas' talents.  Please
me," he ordered Tom.  The young man knew exactly what this command
meant and opened Chakotay's trousers and took his semi erect shaft in
his mouth.  He 'pleased' Chakotay as he had done so many times before,
Chakotay keeping his eyes on Dalby's face, enjoying the envy and lust
on the man's face, mixed with fear of his Captain.  Once he had
climaxed, Chakotay smiled at Dalby. "He's really quite the best at
this that I've ever had you know," he remarked conversationally. "Pity
that you'll never get the chance to find out."

Dalby reddened with barely suppressed rage, but said nothing. 
Throughout the whole performance, Seska had watched with a cool
expression on her face, whereas the Doctor had quite evidently enjoyed
the show.  She asked to be excused, saying quite openly that after
*that*, she was going to her quarters to enjoy one of her slaves.

Seska left soon afterwards as well, but Chakotay quite deliberately
kept Dalby there, talking to him while he idly caressed his slave, 
knowing that this was annoying Dalby.  Once he had finally dismissed 
Dalby, he bent Tom over the table and took him roughly, watching as 
bruises formed on the fair skin of the young man he was abusing.

Tom could not believe the humiliation he felt, knowing that Chakotay
had used him to annoy Dalby, that he hadn't even been trying to 
degrade Tom, that he now regarded the young man as totally tamed.  He 
knew that it had not even entered Chakotay's head that he would 
consider refusing his command, else he would not have ordered Tom to 
suck him off in public.  Even as he tried not to show his pain at the 
now familiar sensation of the Captain's hard penetration, as he was 
feeling the bruises forming, slammed repeatedly as he was against the 
sharp edge of the table, he was writhing inwardly, knowing that he had 
not dared refuse, or even hesitate to obey, the Captain's commands.

---

Commander Chakotay sat with Seska in the shuttle on the way to
Starbase Tekanis, an Empire base.  He was nervous and making 
conversation with Seska in an attempt to alleviate his nerves.  He'd 
spent the last few weeks studying hard for this mission, and just 
hoped that he was sufficiently prepared.

"So what's my counterpart like to serve under?" he enquired.

"Not as bad as some.  He obtained his position through merit, not
family connections, so at least he's competent.  He's unpredictable, 
but doesn't often discipline someone for no reason.  Of course it 
helps that he's sure of the loyalty of his crew."

"Oh?  How did he achieve that?"

"By making sure that he's got something to blackmail every member of
his crew with."

"What's he got on you?"

Her face twitched.  "He thinks that I..." she started to laugh, "enjoy
having s.. sex with non...non-sentients."

"Animals?"

"Yes.  And I can't tell you what fun that was to fake, specially
the...the Alderian sheep."

Chakotay took one look at her face and lost it!  The two of them
roared with laughter for several minutes.

"So," Chakotay gasped, "how was it? And for the sheep!"

That set them off into fresh giggles, but eventually they quietened. 
"I've seen Tom, you know," Seska said quietly.  Chakotay looked at her
sharply. "The Captain lets him out of his quarters now.  Deems him
sufficiently tamed I guess."

Chakotay winced.  "But from what I've seen, I don't think he's
completely given up yet," she said remembering the fight he had put up
with Dalby. "I've seen slaves who've surrendered completely and he
doesn't look like that yet, but I won't lie to you, he's not in good
shape.  He's all right physically, but I dread to think what his
mental state is.  Y'know when we get him out, don't expect him to be
like he was before he was captured.  He won't be.  I've known enough
people before and after to know that."

Chakotay swallowed heavily.  "I understand," he said huskily.

"Personally, I can't wait to get Geron and myself out of there."

"Geron?" Chakotay questioned, wondering if it could possibly be the
young man he knew.

"He's a young Bajoran, who was captured.  He's meant to be my slave. 
I've tried to protect him as much as I can, but the strain is starting
to show. He's another reason why I won't be sorry to end this
charade."  She glanced at the instrument panel.  "We'll be there in
another thirty minutes, are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be I guess."

Chakotay was dressed as a Captain of the Empire.  His tattoo had been
altered, to be an exact duplicate of his counterpart's, the idea being
that he was to play his counterpart.  There was a gathering of Empire
Fleet Admirals and Captains on the Starbase.  Captain Chakotay had
decided not to attend, still avoiding his fellow Captains who were
likely to bring up the unwelcome topic of his former relationship with
Captain Paris, and had told Seska to send his regrets, but instead she
had sent a message that both Chakotay and she (as it was customary for
the Captains to be attended by their First Officers) would attend.  Of
course, eventually Chakotay would find out about the deception, which
was why Seska would shortly cease her position as an officer of the
Empire.  The purpose of the talks was to discuss strategy and tactics
but was actually an excuse for a pissing session.  All bodyguards and
weapons were strictly forbidden.

However, there would be classified information available, which
Chakotay with his security clearance could access, whereas Seska could 
not.  The Alliance suspected that the Empire was planning a pre-
emptive strike; now was their chance to learn the details.  Although 
the Empire would learn about Commander Chakotay and Seska's deception 
eventually, they would as a consequence have to postpone their plans, 
giving the Alliance a chance to build up their armaments for the war 
that was looking increasingly inevitable.  Chakotay had learned all he 
could about the Captains and Admirals who were likely to attend, had 
studied his counterpart's record, which Seska had made available, and 
had been coached by her how to act as his counterpart.  Following the
(hopefully) successful completion of the mission, Seska and Chakotay
would then rescue Tom.  By a serendipitous coincidence, the wormhole
was expected to open shortly too, providing the means for Tom and
Chakotay to get back to their own universe.

Chakotay took a deep breath.  They had arrived and the show was about
to begin.

As he and Seska walked along the corridors together, Chakotay trying
to strut like his counterpart, the first Captain they came across was
Will Riker, who Seska had described as a "brutal thug, with brains".  
He had his arm around a beautiful woman, who Chakotay didn't know, but
was informed was likely to be Beverly Howard, Riker's First Officer. 
"Hey Chak!" he hailed him.  "And your lovely First Officer as well. 
Seska isn't it?"  She simpered at him.

That's right.  I didn't expect you to remember me, Sir."

"Never forget a beautiful woman.  Didn't expect you to be here," he
said turning to Chakotay.  "What with Paris and what's her name, 
Torres being here."

Chakotay froze.  Neither he nor Seska had known that those two would
be there.  Paris knew Captain Chakotay pretty well, bearing in mind 
their past relationship, but there again maybe Chakotay could just 
refuse to speak to him.  He affected a laugh.  "Who cares!  I've got 
enough to keep me busy."

Riker leered at Seska.  "I can imagine."

"No, no.  I've got a new slave.  He's a definite handful.  Don't have
time for anything else."

Riker smiled knowingly.  "Well, we've all been there.  See you later,"
he said as he departed down the corridor.  Seska and Chakotay both
sighed in relief.  So far, so good, but it was early yet and the news
about Paris was not good.

They continued on to the main meeting room, occasionally stopping to
exchange pleasantries along the way.  Admiral Necheyev definitely gave
Chakotay the creeps, that woman was a menace and she liked to flirt,
running predatory eyes over Chakotay.  She had a great deal of power
and the word was that she had sampled the charms of most of the
Captains in Starfleet (Chakotay included), both male and female.  As
for Admiral Picard, that man had the coldest, most calculating eyes
Chakotay had ever seen.  He had never met Picard's counterpart, but
had nothing but respect for the man's reputation; he was definitely
one of the great starship captains in Chakotay's own universe. From
what he had read of his counterpart, however, this Picard would do
anything, use anyone, to further his own ends.  Picard was attended by
Commander Troi, who Seska had identified as one of the most dangerous
people there, because of her empathic abilities.  Chakotay could
discern a cruel enjoyment of another's pain on her lovely face and
deliberately tried to keep his emotions low key around her, tinged
with a little fear, which Seska said was normal around half-Betazoids.

As the entered the meeting room, Chakotay noted that it was almost
empty, but there, he stiffened, oh shit!  There were Paris and Torres.
B'Elanna had never looked so sensual, so aware of her own beauty, or
so determined to use it to her best advantage.  The Torres that
Chakotay knew was oblivious to her looks, in fact Chakotay suspected
that she thought of herself as being ugly.   As for Paris, he wore an
expression of exquisite boredom.  Chakotay had never seen him look so
arrogant, not even when Tom had been at his worst.  But for all that
Chakotay was wholly unable to prevent the joy he felt at seeing Tom
again, even knowing that it wasn't really him.  Here he was, the man
he loved, standing there looking absolutely gorgeous.  Paris looked
round.  He smirked, that expression Chakotay had seen so often on Tom
in the early days, and which he had always ached to slap off his face.

"Chakotay and the lovely Seska.  What a surprise to see you here."

Chakotay smiled back, equally falsely.  "It's great to see you too,
Tom.  And B'Elanna of course, looking as beautiful as ever."

Paris bent down to Torres and kissed her lightly, a curiously
affectionate gesture Chakotay thought.  "She is, isn't she?  Oh, but
of course you'd know just how beautiful she is," Paris drawled.

"I do indeed.  You as well."   Chakotay smiled as a brief expression
of shock crossed the young man's face.  He hadn't expected Chakotay to
acknowledge their liaison.  He recovered quickly though.

"I'm glad that you remember," he said sweetly.  "After all they do say
that the memory's the first thing to go."

Chakotay scowled at being reminded of the age difference between him
and Tom, but said, "You must excuse me, we old men need our afternoon 
nap you know."

He and Seska left to find their quarters, she saying as they did so
that it had gone better than expected.  Later that night there was a
dinner for all the visitors.  Chakotay and Seska were seated well away
from Paris and Torres, much to Chakotay's relief.  They were also
nowhere near Commander Troi, which he also found to be an immense
relief.  That woman was downright sinister.  He was actually seated
next to Captain Sisko; his aide was a Commander Bashir, who was, Seska
whispered to him, known to be genetically enhanced.  This technology
was risky and therefore not often used, but when it worked the
recipients usually advanced rapidly, being brought up in dormitories
as they were, they had no familial connections or sentimental feelings
to hold them back.  As for Sisko, he appeared friendly enough on the
surface, being obviously acquainted with Chakotay's counterpart, but
he could not disguise the coldness lurking at the back of his eyes.

The talk at dinner was all about the threat to the Empire that the
Alliance posited, how soft the Alliance was, but paradoxically, which
none of the Empire's officers seemed to notice, they were still
considered a threat. One Captain, Elizabeth Shelby commented peevishly
that they had all the inferior races running to them for protection,
instead of benefiting from the Empire's discipline.  Chakotay listened
as much as he could, agreed with the prevailing trend of conversation
and tried to fit in as much as possible.  As the meal wore on the talk
became increasingly ribald, no slaves were present but that didn't
stop the assembled officers from reminiscing about which races made
the best slaves, although Orion slave girls were acknowledged to have
a definite edge, their centuries old reputation was, it was generally
agreed, very well deserved.  Chakotay could not remember a meal that
he had been glad to escape more.  He contrasted the crude behaviour
and conversation with the meals he had enjoyed on the Voice of the
Prophets and Bajor with his experience tonight.  It was apparent that
some, at least, of the officers were well educated, but their
outwardly civilised behaviour soon degenerated.  However, Picard, he
noted, didn't drink alcohol and seemed to maintain a rigid control at
all times.  He shuddered, remembering what Seska had told him, that
Picard, in particular, was known to obtain sexual gratification from 
torture.

Later, after the base was quiet, all the officers having retired to
bed, some alone, some not, Chakotay decided to try and obtain the
information they had come here to get.  If challenged he was going to 
explain that he was trying to catch up before the meeting the next 
day.  He moved quietly through the darkened corridors reciting to 
himself the access codes Seska had obtained, which would only work at 
the rank of Captain or beyond.  He slipped quietly into the main 
meeting room, in order to make for the terminals that were in a room 
beyond that, but froze when he realised that there was someone in the 
room.  He heard a familiar voice say "Captain Chakotay, as I live and 
breath."  It was Paris.

"What are you doing here?" Chakotay asked.

"What're you?" was the response.  Paris called for quarter lights.  In
the dim light, Chakotay saw him rise smoothly from the couch where
he'd been sitting, looking at the stars.

"I asked first," Chakotay said, then winced when he realised how
childish it sounded.

"So you did," the other man replied.  "What am I doing?" he mused. 
"What are any of us doing?"  Chakotay shifted uneasily.  This Paris
seemed to be in a strange mood.  "D'you ever stop to think what it is
we're all doing, why we struggle for advantage, what the point of it
is?"

Chakotay thought frantically, what would his counterpart say?  "No. I
don't," was the response he finally settled on.

"No, of course not.  You've always been so... determined.  So sure of
yourself."

"Maybe because I had to work for what I've got, didn't get it all
handed to me like you."  //And where did *that* come from,// Chakotay
thought to himself.  //I thought I'd got over that so far as Tom's
concerned.//

Paris laughed.  "You always said that.  Nothing changes I see."  He
moved closer to the Commander, close enough that Chakotay could catch
his scent, that uniquely Tom Paris smell which until now he hadn't
realised he'd memorised, overlaid with cologne.  "Except us," Paris
said softly. "Sometimes I wish..."

"What!" Chakotay choked out, unable to stop his arousal. 
Intellectually he knew that this man wasn't his Paris, but
emotionally... he looked the same, he smelled the same.  Here was the
object of Chakotay's fantasies, coming on to him; he was totally
unable to prevent his response.

"That..." the other man said, leaning even closer, sliding a fingertip
down the side of Chakotay's face.  The Commander's arousal jumped to
new heights, he was so hard he hurt.

"You and I..." Paris' finger slid lower, slid down Chakotay's torso.

"Hadn't..." the finger brushed against Chakotay's erect shaft.  He was
unable to stop the moan that arose in his throat.

"Broken up."  Paris' beautiful hand grasped Chakotay's erection,
through his trousers.  Chakotay choked, as Paris slid his hand up and
down slowly.

"But then..." Paris continued, still in the same soft voice, touching
his lips lightly against Chakotay's.  The older man wanted nothing
more than to grasp the young man, kiss him passionately, throw him to
the floor, but found himself wholly unable to interrupt the seductive
spell being woven around him.  His breathing quickened. "I
wouldn't..." the younger man continued, as his hand speeded up
slightly.

"Have gotten together with B'Elanna."  rubbing faster.

"And I would..." and faster.

"Have missed out..."  even faster.

"On the best relationship of my life."  His hand stopped abruptly, and
was removed, just as Chakotay was on the verge of orgasm.

Paris smiled at him mockingly, noting that way the other man was
breathing, looking pointedly at his erection.  "So nice to see that
you missed me," he said and left the room.

Chakotay felt himself trembling, gulping down huge mouthfuls of air. 
He had been so close.  He tried to compose himself, willed his
erection to subside as he collapsed onto the couch.  //That *bastard*. 
Fucking prick tease,// he though vindictively.  //No, no, steady,
calm, calm.  That isn't Tom, he wouldn't do that.  Well OK, maybe he
would,// he thought with sudden humour, //but he wouldn't have stopped
at the crucial moment!//

It took Chakotay a while to settle himself, but drawing on the
discipline of years, he finally rose and went into the adjacent room,
sat down at one of the terminals and keyed in the authorisation. 
There was no problem, he was identified as Captain Chakotay.  He
leaned forward, downloading the information into a tiny disc, which
was designed to simulate one of his rank pips.  He was almost done,
tension dissipating, when he heard a female voice behind him:

"Good evening, Captain."

He was unable to prevent his start of surprise and whirled round in
his chair, his heart sinking when he realised it was Troi.  She raised 
her eyebrows at his startled expression.

"Commander," he responded.  "You startled me."

"Evidently," she responded dryly.  "You're up late."

"Evidently."

She smiled wryly, acknowledging the hit.  Chakotay wasn't certain what
the parameters of her abilities were, whether she was suspicious.  He
desperately tried to call on all the serenity he had managed to
achieve during his years of meditation, to slow his fast beating 
heart, so that she would put his nervousness down to mere startlement.

"Couldn't sleep?" she enquired casually.

"Not sleepy yet. You?"

"The same.  Doing some late night reading?"

"Trying to prepare for tomorrow.  I've been a little out of it
recently, on the border.  Thought I'd check the latest reports."

"A wise precaution.  Have you finished?"

"Well, yes, just now.  Why?"

"Oh, I wondered whether you'd like to join me in a drink.  I have some
fine Saurian brandy in my room."

//Is she coming onto me?// Chakotay wondered incredulously.  He
definitely did not want to accept her invitation, but wondered how he
could get out of it.

"Thank you, but Seska's waiting for me."

"Oh" she looked at him sceptically.  "I didn't think you had an...
intimate relationship."

He smiled at her.  "We don't.  Yet."

"Aaah.  Perhaps we can have that drink if... matters don't develop
with your First Officer?"

"You can count on it."

She smiled at him and left.  He tried to maintain a calm air.  Seska
was not certain of the range of Troi's abilities, but thought they
were generally diffused when she got a few hundred metres away. 
Luckily his quarters were on the other side of the station to hers. 
He got up, vaguely surprised to find that his legs were unsteady and
made his way back to his quarters where Seska awaited him.  Conscious
that the room might be bugged, he indicated success only by a nod of
his head.  They made inconsequential small talk for a while before she
left for her own room.

Next morning, Chakotay attended the strategic planning session.  Seska
and the other aides waited outside.  He seated himself in his
designated seat, cursing when he realised that Paris was sitting
directly opposite him.  He wondered whether the young man had arranged
that himself or whether it some Admiral's idea of a joke.  Paris
smirked at him, and ran a finger down the side of his face, drawing
attention to the Klingon mating bite adorning his cheek.  Chakotay's
lips tightened, if he needed more evidence that this Paris was not Tom
his behaviour this morning confirmed it, he knew that Tom would never
have taunted an ex-lover like this.  His Tom Paris had a kind heart,
deny it though he might.  Admiral Picard was presiding at the meeting. 
That man made Chakotay deeply uneasy, he resolved to adopt his
strategy of last night, stay in the background as much as possible,
and not draw attention to himself.

As the meeting wore on, Chakotay making mental notes of anything,
which might help the Alliance, he was surprised at how active a role 
Paris took in the discussions.  Tom often was involved in planning 
sessions on Voyager but this was a meeting of the brass!  He saw how 
many of the Captains deferred to the young man, and came to the 
conclusion that it must be because of his familial connections as 
Paris was the youngest person there.  He was pleasantly surprised by 
how good some of Captain Paris' suggestions were, thinking that Tom 
presumably similarly had talent in this area as well, which should be 
encouraged. He then smiled to himself at the irony; he was commending 
Captain Paris for suggestions against the Alliance.  Chakotay heaved 
an internal sigh of relief when, after several hours, the meeting 
finally ended.  Now he and Seska could leave.

As he exited the room, he saw Paris ostentatiously kissing Torres, who
was returning his kiss with enthusiasm.  Paris looked across at
Chakotay and smiled at him, gloatingly.  Torres by contrast looked
defiant.  Chakotay said nothing, just turned on his heel, and went to
fetch his belongings. Seska had already loaded hers and was waiting on
the shuttle for him as he passed an open door, hearing a familiar
laugh inside, it was Torres.  She and Paris were kissing, not for show
this time but with the ease of long established lovers.  Chakotay
shook his head in disbelief, if he didn't know better, he would have
thought that there was genuine affection there.

As the shuttle drew away from the Starbase, he and Seska exchanged
identical grins of elation and relief.  They had done it!

"It won't be long until Chakotay finds out that he supposedly attended
the conference in my company," she commented.  "I'll return to the
Extreme and you follow a couple of days later.  I think we have that
long until he finds out.  You'll need to get access to Tom."

"How about if I act glad that Tom's been captured, let Chakotay think
I dislike him?  You know him better than I do, even if he is me.  What
do you think?"

"Hmm," she pondered.  "I think that might work.  I think he'll be
intrigued by you, who wouldn't be at meeting their counterpart.  As he
lets Tom out around the ship now, I think he probably will let you
meet him.  I'll disable weapons and the warp drive, although there's
so many failsafes it won't last for long.  When I've done so, I'll
activate a transponder we'll put into your arm, so you know to get to
the shuttle bay."

They spent much time on the trip back to Bajor, exchanging vehicles
along the way so the black box did not reflect their course,
discussing the variables of their plan, Seska informing him of
everything she hoped he would need to know.  Another factor in their
plan was that the wormhole that should take Chakotay and Tom back to
their own universe, and probably also the Delta Quadrant, was due to
open shortly.  With any luck Paris and Chakotay would be back through
the wormhole before the Extreme got back warp drive.

---

Three days later, Chakotay hailed the Extreme: "Commander Chakotay to
the Extreme."

There was a moment's silence, then came hesitantly, "Did you say
Chakotay?"

"That's correct."  The viewscreen came up and Chakotay found himself
gazing at the countenance of his counterpart.

"This is an unexpected... pleasure," Captain Chakotay said.

"May I come on board?" Chakotay asked.  His counterpart laughed.

"Why not?  I must admit that I'm curious to meet you."  Chakotay was
given directions to fly his shuttle to the hangar bay.  Once there he
took a deep breath, thinking, //Now the show starts,// and alighted. 

He was met by his counterpart, who had only a couple of security
guards in attendance.  The two men exchanged pleasantries for a
moment, each secretly fascinated by the other.  Chakotay considered he
had the advantage, having read all of his counterpart's service
records, whereas the Captain knew little about him.

"What can I do for you?" the Captain enquired.

"I'm on my way back to my own universe, and I must admit that I was
curious to meet you."

"You're not worried that I'll prevent you from returning?"

"Why should you; it benefits you nothing.  And two of us is a luxury
that I'm not sure this universe can afford, but I can see the benefits
of mutual co-operation between us if this situation arises in the
future."

The Captain's eyes gleamed; he was highly intelligent but constrained
by his lack of empathy; he simply could not conceive that his
counterpart was not ecessarily the same person as himself.   He was
not in fact minded to detain his counterpart here, because he could
see no value in doing so, but could see the value of an alliance in
the future.  Moreover as Tom had been careful to tell him next to
nothing about the situation in his universe, he really thought that
this Chakotay was to all intents and purposes the same person as
himself.

"And" Chakotay said casually, "I'm looking for a crewmate of mine,
Lieutenant Tom Paris.  He exited into your space at the same time as
me and your ship was in the area where he would have entered.  I was
wondering if you've any news of him."

Captain Chakotay scowled.  "Why are you so concerned?" he growled. 
"What's he to you?"

Chakotay grimaced.  "He is a fine pilot," he said, "although annoying
as hell on a personal level, but as I'm his commanding officer I 
suppose I have a duty towards him.  If he's dead at least I'll be able 
to report back." Chakotay made certain that he sounded as though this
prospect would not upset him the least, thanking the spirits for his
practice at dissembling in his Maquis days.

"You don't get along then?"

Chakotay snorted.  "Hardly, he was insubordinate, insolent... No, I
think it's fair to say that we 'didn't get along'."

Captain Chakotay considered whether he could, in effect, trust
himself, and made his decision abruptly.  "He's here," he said.

Chakotay raised his eyebrows.  "Really? Well I trust he didn't give
you too much trouble?"

"No, no trouble at all.  In fact you might say that he's made himself
useful."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he... serves me."

"Serves you.  How?"

The Captain smiled.  "In all things."

"In all things?  You don't mean..." Chakotay let an unpleasant smile
cross his face that Tom would have recognised as an expression he
often saw on the Captain's features.

His counterpart let the same smile illuminate his face.  "In that
case," Chakotay said, "I think that he should be left just where he 
is.  I'm sorry to have bothered you.  I'll be on my way, although..." 
he hesitated.

"Yes?"

"I would like a tour of your ship before I go.  It looks magnificent,"
he said admiringly.

The Captain hesitated.  "Oh we can do much better than that" he said. 
"How about a tour and dinner?  That will give you the opportunity to
see my Thomas at work as it were, possibly experience some of that...
service yourself."

"Great idea.  I accept with pleasure."  The two men exchanged
identical grins.

"After you, my dear Chakotay," the Captain said, gesturing towards the
door.


Approximately one hour later the two men paused outside Chakotay's
quarters. Chakotay was sickened to his stomach.  The Captain had
proudly shown off the features of a ship designed for one purpose
only; to threaten, to use force, to kill.  Scientific exploration,
except in so far as it benefited the Empire, was not a priority; there
was no joy in exploration, only in conquest.

"I took the liberty of informing Thomas that there would be another
person for dinner, but not who, I didn't want to ruin the surprise,"
the Captain was saying.  The doors opened and Chakotay beheld the
Captain's luxurious quarters illuminated by masses of candles in heavy
candelabra.  His gaze fell on Tom kneeling in his usual place in the
middle of the floor, eyes lowered.  He was not able to prevent himself
from gasping aloud; Tom looked so beautiful there in the candlelight,
his skin was luminous and his hair gleamed golden.  Much of his body
was revealed by the skimpy deep red tunic he wore, which clung to
Tom's skin, outlining his slender form.

"Look up," the Captain ordered.  When Tom obeyed, his expression
showed his amazement at seeing two Chakotays standing before him, but
he did not speak. His gaze slid from one to the other, probing,
determining that one of them probably *was* his Chakotay.

"He's so quiet," Chakotay commented.

"He hasn't been given permission to speak," was the reply.  "And I
can't begin to tell you how long it took him to learn that lesson."

Chakotay smiled.  "Oh I can imagine.  And I can't tell you what a
pleasure it is to see you here, like this Paris," he said mockingly. 
"What nothing to say?"

The Captain gestured impatiently: "You may speak Thomas," he said.

"Is it really you, Commander?" Tom said slowly.

"Yes, it's me," was the reply.  "I followed you into the wormhole, but
exited into a different part of space.  I'm on my way back to our
universe, but couldn't pass up the opportunity to visit.   I'll give
your regards to the Captain if you like."

Tom paled. "You mean you're not going..."

"To take you with me?" Chakotay interrupted.  "I'm afraid not.  I
couldn't possibly take you away from all this," he gestured at the
room as he spoke, "not when you've so obviously found your proper
place at last."

Tom lowered his head, part of him couldn't believe what he was
hearing, he couldn't believe that the Commander would abandon him like
this.  He knew that they had had their differences in the past, but he
had thought they were over those, were becoming friends, in fact part
of him before his enslavement had hoped that maybe one day they might
be more than friends. But the other part of him had discerned desire
in the Commander's eyes and an enjoyment of seeing Tom kneeling before
him.  He was very much afraid that the Commander meant what he said,
had not come to rescue him, but to exult in his degradation.  Before
his captivity, and even when relations between him and Chakotay had
been at their worse, Paris would not have  doubted that Chakotay was
attempting to rescue him, but now... he was simply not certain, it had
been so long since he had met anyone with a shred of decency that he
could not conceive of anyone risking their life for him. And of course
this was *Chakotay*, whose counterpart had done his best to break him,
who possessed him.  It was difficult for Tom to maintain in his mind
the differences between the two men; inevitably, as a result of having
been in Captain Chakotay's company so much, he had begun to forget
what the other Chakotay was like.

He found it difficult to comprehend that he and Chakotay had actually
enjoyed a drink or a game of pool together, had socialised as equals,
had laughed together, but then Tom couldn't remember what it was like
to laugh. Oh, he had heard Chakotay laugh often enough, but it was
usually a cruel laughter, often at Tom's expense, although Chakotay
had sometimes been genuinely amused at something Tom had said on the
occasions when he was in the mood for discussion; Tom had not lost his
ability to be witty, but could not find any joy or laughter for
himself.

Tom knew that the Captain would not let him go easily, that he might
be sufficiently obsessed with him to risk his neck to keep him.   He
could not comprehend that Chakotay would be willing to court danger by
attempting to rescue him, but deep within, where Tom had placed his
determination to resist Captain Chakotay there was a tiny shred of
hope that Chakotay was putting on an act to lull the Captain into a
false sense of security.

"Look up," the Captain commanded.  Tom obeyed and the Captain seized
his chin, turning his head so that Chakotay might admire his profile. 
"Look at this," the Captain said to his counterpart, "exquisite isn't
it."

"I've always thought so," Chakotay agreed.  "Particularly when so
uncharacteristically silent," he smirked.  The Captain seized Tom by
his hair, which Chakotay noted was longer than he was used to seeing 
it, curling round itself in charming disarray, pulling Tom's head back 
to show off the lovely, long, line of his throat, encircled by the 
golden collar.  The Captain ran his finger down Tom's throat; 
throughout it all Tom didn't make a sound.  Chakotay found his 
silence, the fact that he made no protest at this treatment, almost 
too much to bear; what had been done to him to make him like this?

"You want him, don't you?" the captain asked abruptly.  "You always
have."

"I can't lie to you," Chakotay admitted.  "Yes I do, but he's yours." 
All the while he was thinking to himself, //and you don't know how
true it is, that I want him, although I've only recently realised
it.//

"I might be... persuaded to lend him out."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I like the idea of watching myself, so to speak, with him."

"Sounds good to me," was the enthusiastic response.  Head bent back by
the Captain who was still holding his hair, Tom was miserably taking
all this in.  //No. No,// he was thinking, //they can't mean... please
no, gods *no*!//

The Captain finally released Tom's head.  "Stand up," he ordered.  Tom
gracefully complied.  Chakotay was not able to take his eyes off him. 
It had been a revelation to him when he realised just why he had been
so hostile to Tom for so long and he could not prevent his eyes from
drinking in the sight before him, even though he wanted to spare Tom
embarrassment. Then he thought to himself grimly that if he had a
chance of pulling this off and rescuing Tom, he must play along, at
least until he received the signal from Seska and if that included
collaborating in Tom's humiliation, then so be it.

"Strip," the Captain ordered Tom, who loosened the fastening of his
tunic and let it fall to the floor, head down as he did so.  He was
flushed red in embarrassment; he was used to being naked in front of
the Captain, (and there was the horrible incident with Dalby) but this
was the Commander. Chakotay was unable to stop himself from drinking
in avidly the golden beauty revealed to him, realising that he had
never seen Tom naked before. He noted that Tom was wearing a ruby
earring in one ear and that there was a gold chain around one ankle;
the adornments served only to emphasis his nakedness.  To his horror,
Chakotay realised that he was becoming aroused. He desperately tried
to control his erection, but the Captain noticed and smiled at him
knowingly.

"Look up," the Captain ordered.  Tom did so; his eyes were wide with
distress.  "Beautiful, isn't he," he remarked conversationally.

Chakotay cleared his throat: "Yes he is," he agreed.

"Later," murmured the Captain.  "For now let's eat!"

He led the way to the table, Chakotay and Tom following.  There the
Captain directed Chakotay to a chair at the table, taking the other
himself.  It was the most uncomfortable meal Chakotay had ever
partaken in, the food was exquisite, although he refused the wine,
explaining to his counterpart that he didn't drink.  But all the time
he was conscious of Tom, naked, serving perfectly, kneeling by the
side of the Captain's chair when his services were not required,
attentive to both his and the Captain's every move, jumping up to
refill the glasses with wine or water, or to remove a finished plate
of food.  Every so often the Captain would reach out and caress Tom's
face or run his fingers through his hair.  Chakotay found this almost
too much to bear, seeing that Tom endured these attentions passively.
Conversely, however he dreaded the end of the meal and what was to
happen next, but a small part of him, which Chakotay was ashamed to
admit he possessed, was... excited at that thought.  Chakotay was
waiting impatiently for the signal from Seska; would it never come!

At last the meal was finished, Chakotay had spun it out for as long as
he dared without rousing his counterpart's suspicions.  The Captain
indicated that they should move to a couple of high-backed chairs to
the side of the room, cradling a glass of the finest Aldarian brandy
as he did so.   Tom was still kneeling by the dinner table, not having
been ordered to move.  The Captain looked over thoughtfully at the
young man, watching as the candlelight flickered on his skin, sipping
his brandy as he did so.

"Now there's a thought," the Captain murmured.

"What?" Chakotay asked.

"Did you know that Thomas is particularly skilled at pleasing with his
mouth?" was the response.  "No, of course not.  Well, I think you've
now got the chance to find out."  He gestured abruptly to Tom.  "Come
here and please him," he ordered, "you know how."

Tom started to get to his feet, but the Captain raised an eyebrow. 
"Did I tell you to get up? No, I thought not.  Hands and knees," he
barked.

Tom obeyed his order silently, crawling over to Chakotay, head held
low, skin flushed, holding back his humiliated tears at being so 
forced to degrade himself in front of the Commander.  As for Chakotay, 
he was fighting hard to prevent his horrified reaction to this sight.  
What had been done to the young man he had known to make him obey even 
this order without protest? But another part of the Commander, 
anticipating what was going to happen next, knowing that he must join 
in with the Captain in Tom's humiliation,  was unable to control the 
rush of blood to his groin.  Oh spirits, he shouldn't want this, not 
under these circumstances, but he couldn't help himself.  Spirits help 
him; he wanted Tom, but... not like this.  So why couldn't he control 
his aberrant body?

Once Tom reached Chakotay he knelt before him frozen for a second. 
//Shit! Oh gods, not this, please the gods not this, not with *him*.//

"Please him.  Now!" the Captain prompted, his hand going warningly to
his wrist bracelet.  Tom opened Chakotay's fly, noting that he was not
wearing any underwear and that he was already erect.  Startled, he
looked up at Chakotay, spying for an instant what he thought was an
expression of anguish and regret in the Commander's eyes, before his
face went blank.  Tom bent his head and licked Chakotay's erection,
then bathed Chakotay's balls with his tongue.  Chakotay shifted
restlessly in his chair, he couldn't believe how wonderful this felt,
to feel Tom's beautiful lips on him.  Tom swirled his tongue round the
head, kissing and licking it, before taking him in deep.  Chakotay
gasped, this felt so good, so right, it had never been this good,
never. His mind blanked out, he forgot the obscene circumstances they
were in, forgot the fact that his counterpart was watching them
avidly, there was only this sensation, this feeling, oh this was so
good, Tom was so good at this.  He thrust in and out of Tom's mouth,
feeling that sweet tongue, the gentle sting of Tom's teeth, this was
perfect, this was...he was.. coming, he was pulsing, he was.... 

Chakotay threw his head back, feeling the waves of his orgasm washing
through him, erupting into Tom's mouth, which stayed on him
throughout.  As he finished climaxing, he felt Tom's tongue on him
washing him clean before Tom let go of his shaft and sat back on his
heels.  Both men were breathing deeply.

"You see," the Captain said smugly, "I told you he's good at this."

"Good, yes, good," Chakotay panted.

"And just wait, there's a lot more you have to experience.  I assure
you that you'll really enjoy him begging you to fuck him, he begs so
beautifully," the Captain said lasciviously.  Tom lowered his head in
shame.

Chakotay looked over at his counterpart sharply.  "I've decided to be
generous and allow you to take him," said the Captain.  "Besides, I
enjoyed watching that.  Do you know you're the only person I'd ever
consider lending him to, but then of course, you are me."

"Come here," he ordered Tom sharply.  Tom hastened to obey knowing
that to delay when Chakotay used that tone would mean punishment.  The
Captain fed Tom the aphrodisiac, Tom's heart sinking as he ingested
it.  The Captain intended to allow him no dignity at all, to force him
to beg his counterpart to use him, oh gods how could he bear this,
knowing what was to happen.

"What's that you've given him?" Chakotay demanded.

"A little inducement to cooperate," was the response.  "He really
won't be able to help himself.  And I'd advise you to take this," he
said holding out a tab of denedrexidrine.  "Oh don't worry, it's not
the same thing I gave young Thomas here, this just aids recovery and
adds stamina."  Seeing that his counterpart's eyes were on him,
Chakotay swallowed the tab.

"Now," the Captain said pleasantly, "I suggest we adjourn to the
bedroom, yes see, Thomas is becoming rather agitated."

Chakotay looked at Tom who was on his knees by the Captain's chair, he
was moving restlessly, his fists repeatedly clenching and unclenching
and he was fully erect.

Once in the bedroom, the Captain suggested that Tom undress Chakotay,
who stood passively, allowing Tom to tend to him, all the while
thinking: //Where the *hell* is Seska?// 

Chakotay himself was also erect; he could not help but react to Tom's
obvious arousal, in spite of the avid look of greedy enjoyment in his
counterpart's eyes.  Tom undressed Chakotay efficiently, with the ease
of long practice.  Chakotay marvelled at his ability to remain
graceful, even under these circumstances; at the same time he was
desperately hoping that the bracelet he wore would vibrate with
Seska's signal soon.

When Chakotay was naked, he took Tom in his arms and kissed him,
trying to convey with his mouth his sorrow, his abhorrence for the
situation they were in, but also fighting not to crush Tom against
him, devour his mouth with his own.  Tom was responding eagerly, the
aphrodisiac turning his blood to fire, rubbing up and down against
Chakotay's body.  Chakotay was distressed to note that Tom did not
seek to take the initiative, in spite of his obvious need, having been
trained to respond only to the other's pleasure, unless otherwise
specifically directed.  //That's one more score to settle on Tom's
behalf,// Chakotay raged even as he held Tom in his arms, making a vow
to himself to protect Tom, no matter what it took.  They collapsed
together onto the bed, still kissing.  Chakotay was seriously worried
that he would not be able to control himself, not with Tom writhing
against him like this, then he felt the buzz against his skin. Seska's
signal!

Chakotay rolled off the bed, to find his counterpart looking at him in
surprise.  He leapt, and punched.  The Captain went down as if
pole-axed, but rolled over, grabbed at Chakotay and pulled him off
balance.  The two men struggled together, Chakotay feeling a sense of
immense satisfaction as each blow landed, whereas the Captain was
fighting quite desperately to keep what was his.  Neither man had the
advantage, they were too evenly matched, but the Captain was the
dirtier fighter.  Chakotay grunted as a blow knocked the breath out of
him, and felt the Captain place his hands round Chakotay's neck, and
squeeze.  Chakotay gasped for breath, his vision dimming, no, no, he
couldn't lose this fight, he had to win, for Tom, then he felt his
opponent convulse, and his hands loosen.  Chakotay threw the Captain
off, saw Tom standing above them, having hit the Captain, watched him
grab the Captain, giving Chakotay a clear shot.  Chakotay dealt the
Captain a knockout blow, as the other man lapsed into unconsciousness.  
Tom smiled at him, as Chakotay hauled himself to his feet, panting.

"I take it that we're escaping," Tom said.  Chakotay nodded and
grinned.

"We are indeed," he confirmed.

"I thought, I thought..." Tom began hesitantly.

"Oh Tom, I'm sorry," Chakotay said remorsefully.  "I had to play along
to get you out of here."  As he spoke, he was looking around for
something to tie the Captain up with, only to find that Tom was
silently holding out a couple of pairs of handcuffs.  Chakotay grabbed
them, manhandled the unconscious Captain to a chair, with Tom's
assistance, and cuffed each hand to the side of the chair.  He removed
the Captain's commbadge.  "Now we leave," he said, even as the Captain
began to stir.

"I can't," Tom said.

"Why not?"

"The collar.  It's set so that I can't leave the ship, barring an
emergency, not unless I'm close to the wristband.  It can be adjusted,
but it takes a while."

Someone laughed unpleasantly.

Chakotay frowned and glanced over at his counterpart, to find that the
man was watching him gloatingly, having already come round.   He
appeared to be awake and alert with no sign of concussion.  "So," the
Captain sneered. "It's not going to be as easy as you thought.  I told
you, he's mine and no one else is going to have him, not even you."

Chakotay flushed.  "I don't..." he started to say.

"Want him," his counterpart finished.  "Liar!  Or is it that you've
been lying to yourself?  No matter, you want him, you always have, 
since the first time you saw him.  You can't lie to me of all people."

"Maybe that's so," Chakotay said doggedly, while Tom stared at him in
surprise, "but only if he wants me.  I would never do what you've
done.  I can't tell me you how much you disgust me."

"Of *course* you wouldn't," the Captain snickered.  "Keep telling
yourself that and maybe you'll come to believe it.  Not that you'll
have very long. No one takes what's mine and lives, not even you.  So
I suggest you try and get out of here now, but it won't be with
Thomas.  He's not going anywhere, not unless he's close to me, not
with that collar."  Chakotay fumbled with the wristband his
counterpart wore, having been briefed that the bracelet controlled the
collar.  He was unable to open it while the Captain laughed at him.

"It won't come off," he said.  It's designed to be worn to the grave."

Chakotay's eyes fell on a sword, displayed on the wall.  "Get
dressed," he ordered Tom.  "Better put on what you'd normally wear
around the ship."  The young man silently obeyed, pulling on the dark
blue livery.  "Where does the Captain keep his clothes?" Chakotay
asked Tom, "because..."

"You're going to pretend to be him," Paris finished.

"Exactly" Chakotay said, pleased that Tom was on the ball.  Tom showed
him where the closet was and Chakotay swiftly dressed in his
counterpart's uniform.  He also cleaned up the marks of the fight,
regenerating his split lip and visible bruises.  He then turned back
to the Captain, who had been watching with a supercilious expression
on his face.

"I don't know why you're bothering," the Captain said.  "Thomas isn't
going anywhere.  That's if he even wants to.  He knows he belongs to
me, don't you Thomas?"

Chakotay looked at the man incredulously, he couldn't possibly think
that Tom would *want* to stay with him, could he?  He couldn't be that
deluded? The Commander looked at Tom, who was standing with his fists
clenched, but his head was down.

"Don't you?" the Captain repeated.

Tom looked up.  His eyes flashed fire.  "Belong to you," he said, then
began to laugh.  "If you only knew, knew how much I... how much I hate
you, loathe you, detest you.  You sick fuck, you're seriously
disturbed if you think that I... that I..." He choked, drew a breath
and continued, speaking more calmly.  "What you've done to me, well,
I'm gonna do everything I can to get over it, because I know that I'll
never have to see you again.  Oh, some small part of me pities you,
you're really so pathetic, you'll never know love, or even friendship,
all you'll ever do is play your games!  I used to like games once, but
not any more."  The Captain said nothing in response to Tom's tirade. 
He had thought he'd completely tamed the young man.  He'd been wrong. 
Tom whirled to face Chakotay.  "Let's get the hell out of here," he
said.  "I'd rather be dead than spend one more minute with *him*!"

Chakotay set his jaw and strode over to the Captain.  "What you said,
about Tom having to be close to you," he said.  "That's not strictly
true, it's not you he needs to be close to, it's your wristband," he
said.   Chakotay raised the sword and swiftly brought it down.  The
months of waiting, worrying about Tom, his knowledge of what his
counterpart had done to the man he loved, all contributed to the sense
of satisfaction he felt as the sword fell.  It was razor sharp and cut
easily through the Captain's wrist. The man's scream of agony echoed
through the cabin as he lapsed into unconsciousness.  Tom stared at
Chakotay with disbelieving eyes; to see this man who he had always
believed to be essentially so civilised deliberately carry out such a
ruthless action was a shock.  Part of Tom acknowledged that Chakotay
was trying to save their lives, but he had not realised that *this*
Chakotay could be so ruthless.  He shuddered inwardly as he thought
that the two Chakotay's might have more in common that he had thought. 
Chakotay said nothing, but removed the bracelet from the severed
wrist, the catch falling open easily as he did so and calmly placed it
around his own wrist, after wiping off the blood.  He used the medkit
to staunch the bleeding.

"Come on," Chakotay said.  "Let's go."

The two men walked out of the cabin, the bodyguards automatically
falling into step behind.  Chakotay waved two of them off, telling
them to stay to keep an eye on his counterpart, who was still in the
cabin, but not to disturb him.  Chakotay strode through the ship,
trying to match the Captain's self-confident swagger, Tom heeling him
as was normal when he accompanied the Captain round the ship. 
Chakotay headed unerringly for the shuttle bay, thankful that he had
studied the ship's specs given to him by Seska.  When the group
reached the shuttle bay, they found Seska and Geron waiting for them,
but unaccompanied by bodyguards.  Tom tensed as he saw who was there,
but Chakotay grabbed him and pulled him down, as Seska and Geron both
raised a phaser that each had held concealed and fired at the guards.
Both men dropped silently, it had happened so quickly there had been
no time for them to react.

"You are Cardassian then?" Tom asked.

Seska nodded.  "We haven't got much time, "she said.  "I've managed to
disable the warp drive and the armaments, but they build so many
fail-safes into these things that they'll be up very soon.  Your
shuttle's ready to go. Good luck."  She and Geron ran towards their
own shuttle, the one Chakotay had arrived in, as Chakotay called after
her:

"Thank you."  She turned and smiled at him.  "You're very welcome,"
was all she said, as she and Geron entered their shuttle.

"Come on," Chakotay ordered, but Tom was already entering the
Cochrane.  Tom sat down in the pilot's chair, his fingers dancing over
the control panel.

"Tom," Chakotay started, "you haven't flown for five months.  Maybe
I..."

"No!" Tom interrupted fiercely.  "No offence Commander, but I'm still
more qualified to fly this thing than you!  Now if you'll just tell me
where we're going..."

Chakotay shrugged, pleased at this show of assertiveness from Tom, and
punched in the co-ordinates hurriedly.  "We're going back to where we
came from, the wormhole should be opening shortly.  It gives us the
chance to get back to our universe, probably the Delta Quadrant."

Tom raised an eyebrow.  "Probably," he echoed.  "Well, that's, er,
great". Even as he spoke, he was starting up the engines, following
the other shuttle out the opening shuttle bay doors, even as internal
sirens started to wail in the Extreme.  "And even if that's so, it's
been five months. Voyager won't still be there."

Chakotay shook his head.  "The Bajoran Alliance scientists who've
studied the wormhole say that there's a time dilation.  We should get
back not too long after we left, hopefully we'll be able to catch up
with Voyager."

"That's a lot of probablys and shoulds," Tom commented.

"Do you want to stay here?" Chakotay asked anxiously.  "Because we
could go to the Alliance you know."

Tom threw him a fierce, wild grin.  "Hell no," he drawled.  "I've
always been a gambler, this is just the biggest one I've ever taken, 
is 
all!"

He locked the shuttle onto the co-ordinates, away from Seska's
shuttle, which was making good time away from the Extreme, even as the 
ship attempted to hail them, telling them to halt or they would be 
fired upon.  They ignored the hail.  The next moment the little 
shuttle rocked as Tom threw it to one side in order to avoid a phaser 
blast.

"I hate to worry you," Tom said, "but we're not going to able to out
run it for long."

"Seska fixed it, or at least I hope she fixed it, so that even when
the warp comes back online, they won't have full power."

"Well that's a comfort," Tom said dryly, fingers dancing as he
manoeuvred the shuttle to avoid another phaser blast.

"Damn," Chakotay breathed. "They're going after us rather than Seska."

Tom shook his head.  "Figures," was all he said.

"I was afraid of this, Seska hasn't got so far to go until she's safe,
but we're the obvious target, not being from the Empire."

"Why'd she help us anyway?"

"It's a long story," Chakotay shrugged.  "I'll tell you later."

The shuttle increased the distance between it and the Extreme,
Chakotay watching in awe as Tom coaxed every possible bit of speed out 
of the little vehicle, continuously rocked by phaser fire as they 
were, Tom somehow managing to avoid taking a direct hit.  Chakotay had 
never seen piloting like it, but noted with concern the look of grim
determination and fixed concentration on Tom's face. 

//He wasn't kidding when he said he'd rather be dead than with my
counterpart,// Chakotay thought in dismay.  //Spirits, just how bad
was it?//

Just then the shuttle was rocked by a blast that Tom had been unable
to dodge.  "We're hit," he yelled.  "Check out the damage will you."

Chakotay sighed in relief.  "It's not too bad, shouldn't affect our
speed, but shields are down to 47%."

"OK, noted," was all Tom said.  "The wormhole's almost...yes.  There!"

Chakotay looked with relief at the welcome sight, there it was, maw
gaping wide.

"Shit!" Tom said. "Sensors show it's beginning to close.  We're
cutting it fine.  Our ETA shows 2 minutes 30 seconds.  We've got
*maybe* that long before it shuts."

Chakotay frowned in concern. The Bajoran scientists had thought the
wormhole would remain open for another couple of days.  This was not
good.

Tom's whole body was thrown forward, yearning towards the wormhole;
his normal relaxed piloting posture was quite absent.  Chakotay stole 
a glance at him and made up his mind.  If they didn't make the 
wormhole and were captured by the Extreme, he would blow up the 
shuttle.  He was not going to let Tom fall back into his counterpart's 
hands!  He shuddered as he thought about what his counterpart might do 
to him.

"Nearly there," Tom muttered, watching as the wormhole steadily shrank
in size.  "Nearly there."  The shuttle was rocked by another blast of
phaser fire.

"Shields down to 23%," Chakotay reported.  Tom said nothing, his whole
attention on the wormhole, which was shrinking rapidly.  Suddenly,
Chakotay felt the wormhole's pull; they were being sucked in, just in
time, as the entrance was now too small for anything but a shuttle to
pass through.  They were in!

This time both men welcomed the buffeting the shuttle received, they
were on their way!


At last they reached the other end and were spat out into normal
space.  Tom checked the co-ordinates and was silent.

"Well?" Chakotay demanded.

"It's the Delta Quadrant, our universe, and the time is... two weeks
after we left."  Tom turned to face Chakotay an expression of pure joy
on his face, which died as he saw who he was looking at.  He recoiled
slightly. Chakotay had been bedazzled by Tom's expression, he had a
big beaming smile on his own face, which faded as he saw Tom's
involuntary reaction.

"Let's see if we can raise Voyager," he said, with forced calm.  Tom
nodded as Chakotay opened hailing frequencies.

"Cochrane to Voyager."  There was a short pause.  Then:

"Voyager here," came the welcome tones of Captain Janeway.  "Chakotay
is that really you?  And where's Tom?"

"He's right here."

"Thank the gods.  We've been worried about you both.  Figured you got
sucked into the wormhole.  Where've you been?  And what's happened to
the Garibaldi?"

"It's a long story, Captain.  I'll tell you later.  For now, let's
just say it's good to be back," Chakotay smiled.

"Noted Commander, I'll look forward to it.  We calculate that you
should be in range in seven hours, if we come to meet you.  We've been
waiting in the area for the wormhole to open, but its location varies
pretty widely."

"Agreed," Chakotay said.  They discussed a rendezvous point, but
before Janeway signed off she said,  "Oh Tom..."

"Yes Captain," he replied, startled.

"Just checking you really are there.  You've been uncharacteristically
silent," she laughed.

"I'm really here," Tom quietly replied, his smile of pleasure at
hearing her voice fading as the adrenaline of their flight faded and
the memories threatened to overwhelm him.  He also groaned inwardly as
he became aware of the demands of his body.  That damned aphrodisiac!

"Good.  I'll look forward to seeing you both.  Janeway out."

Chakotay turned to Tom with a smile; they were on their way back to
Voyager, but his smile faded at the look of distress on Tom's face, he
was flushed and breathing deeply.

"What is it?" he enquired in alarm.

Tom shifted restlessly, biting his lip, his eyes were downcast. 
"I..." he began.  "I need..."

"What?"

"I, oh gods" he said.  "It's this aphrodisiac, I need... please."

Chakotay's heart sank.  He supposed that while they had been escaping
and Tom was flying the shuttle, he had sublimated the effects of the
aphrodisiac, but now they had returned in full force.  "I, I," he
stuttered, uncharacteristically.  He took a deep breath.  "Why don't
you go to the back of the shuttle and um, take care of it," he said,
trying to be as delicate as possible.

Tom lowered his head and mumbled something.

"I'm sorry," Chakotay said.  "I didn't hear what you said."

"I *can't*," Tom burst out.  "I'm not allowed to, to touch myself, my
pleasure, it's not for me, it's for him."

Chakotay swallowed.  "But you're free now," he said.  "Surely..."

"You don't understand," Tom said when his voice died away.  "I can't! 
He trained me, like a dog.  If I attempted to, to... the collar,
it..." He squeezed his eyes shut, but tears escaped to trickle down
his face, while hakotay sat there in horror stricken silence.  Deep
within the Commander, the pool of rage which he had not thought could
get any deeper, intensified; he wanted to tear his counterpart with
his bare hands, for what he had done to Tom.  He moved to Tom and put
his arms round him, with some difficulty, as Tom was still in the
pilot's chair.

"Shush, shush," he soothed.  "It's all right, I'll help you, shush."

He placed the ship on autopilot and gently persuaded Tom to come to
the back of the shuttle.  He seated them on the floor, on the standard
issue Starfleet blankets.  "It'll be easier if you take off your 
tunic," he said awkwardly, watching while Tom stripped himself naked.

"I think it best if I, well I'll just, er, masturbate you," he said,
gently putting his hand on Tom's erection, massaging him to
completion.  It didn't take long.  Chakotay reached out for the cloth
he had placed by the side of the blankets, and gently cleaned Tom up,
dismayed to see that he was already hard again by the time he had
finished.  He jerked Tom off again, but again Tom's erection returned
quickly.  //What the hell was in that stuff my alternate forced him to
eat?// Chakotay wondered.

"OK," Chakotay said. "We're going to have to try something else."  He
bent down to take Tom's shaft into his mouth, only to be violently
pushed away.

"No," Tom cried.  "I'm... I'm not allowed to come when he does that!"

Chakotay felt tears pricking at the back of his lids.  "How about if
we, er, if you come inside me then?" he suggested huskily, excited by
the idea in spite of himself.  Tom drew up his knees to his chest and
buried his face in his hands.  He was trembling violently.

"No," he mumbled.  "That's... I can't, it's forbidden.  He never
wanted that, so... I can't!"

Chakotay fought back tears.  The full horror of what had been done to
Tom, the way his sexuality had been perverted, was only now becoming
clear.  He moved closer to the younger man.  "Then I'll take you, if
that's OK", he said.

Tom nodded wordlessly, not moving from his curled up position. 
Chakotay stripped off his clothes.  As much as he wanted Tom, he could 
not bring himself to desire this, not now, under these circumstances, 
not with Tom wounded as he was, but he could not stand by and watch 
Tom suffer; long tremors were running through his body now.  Chakotay 
stroked himself to hardness and then gently placed his hand on Tom's 
shoulder.

"How do you want to do this?" he asked gently.

"Whatever pleases you," was the reply.  Chakotay gulped.  Tom could
not react in any way on the sexual level as an equal; it had all been
taken from him.

"I think it'll be easier for you if you're on your front," Chakotay
suggested.  Tom said nothing, but moved silently into position. 
Chakotay stroked down his long back gently and then with slight
touches moved Tom onto his hands and knees.  He parted the pale
buttocks and reached inside  with one finger, to find that Tom had
already been prepared. 

//Of course,// Chakotay thought bitterly. //Of course.// 

Tom was moving restlessly at the stimulus and pushing back against
Chakotay's finger.  Chakotay placed another finger in him, and then
another.  Tom was whimpering by now, his ead was down.  Chakotay felt
around for the lubricant, which he had placed by the side of the
blankets just in case it was needed, and greased his erection
carefully.  He removed his hand from Tom, who moaned in disappointment
as he did so, his whole body begging wordlessly.  Chakotay grasped
Tom's hips, kneeling behind him, and quickly entered him.  He remained
still for a moment, his eyes closed, feeling Tom surrounding him, so
hot and tight.  How many times had he dreamed of this moment, but,
spirits, not like this, not like this....  He gently thrust into Tom,
who met his strokes with enthusiasm.

"Please," Tom said softly.

"Please what, Tom?"

"Please, harder, I need...please!"

Chakotay sped up his stokes thrusting harder into Tom who was
thrusting back with equal vigour, the force of Chakotay's thrusts
sending him to his elbows, and then Tom was coming, with no further
stimulation than that, Chakotay had not needed to lay a hand on his
shaft.  Chakotay quickly followed suit, the feel of Tom's muscles
clenching around him sending him over the edge.  Tom collapsed to the
floor, Chakotay tumbling heavily on top of him.  He rolled off Tom to
give him room to breathe and gathered the young man into his arms.

"Oh Tom," he said,  "I am so sorry, for what that bastard's done to
you.  I wish I had killed him.  I, oh spirits, knowing that it was my
counterpart who did this..." he choked, unable to continue.

Tom's eyes were closed.  "It was him, not you, Chakotay.  We both have
to try and remember that, although I don't know if I *can*," he said,
unhappily.  Chakotay marvelled at the generosity of spirit that led
Tom to try and comfort him, even in these circumstances.  If possible
he fell even deeper in love with Tom at that moment, in the midst of
unhappiness and despair.

---

A few hours later Chakotay woke up with Tom's head pillowed on his
shoulder. He lay still, savouring the feel of him in his arms,
bitterly aware that this was probably the only time that he would ever
be able to do this.  He had had to take Tom a couple of more times,
thankful that he had taken the drug the Captain recommended, because
otherwise he would not have been able to do this, until the effects of
the aphrodisiac had at last worn off and Tom had slept.  Chakotay had
lain awake for a long time, unable to sleep through the rage that
consumed him.  Before his enslavement Tom had been a laughing,
irrepressible, relatively carefree young man, scarred by his part
experiences, but still one of the most vibrant, alive, people Chakotay
had ever met.  His ability in the bedroom was well known on Voyager;
Chakotay had not, of course, slept with Tom, but he had heard the
gossip; that Paris was a playful inventive lover, who was known for
taking the initiative in a charming manner.

But the person he had rescued from his counterpart was silent and
subdued, incapable of seeing to his own pleasure; trained to pleasure
others only. Chakotay had persuaded Tom to tell him in more detail
what the Captain had done to him, although Chakotay worried that Tom
had only co-operated with him because he was, at least on a
subconscious level, afraid of what Chakotay would do to him if he
didn't.  Part of him had been broken and Chakotay's greatest fear was
that he would not mend.  He remembered hopefully how desperate Tom had
been to escape and how he had taken the initiative in his rescue.  He
had not given in completely then, in spite of the torture he had
received.  Chakotay wanted to tell Tom how proud of him he was for
that, but doubted that he would ever get the chance.  It was obscene
what had been done to him and Chakotay wanted to make someone pay, to
rend, to kill, but the man whom he wanted to pay back for what he had
done to Tom was a universe away.  Still, Chakotay contemplated with
satisfaction the memory of cutting off the alternate Chakotay's hand. 
He knew that he should not be taking such pleasure in the memory, but
oh, it  had been so satisfying, to hurt that bastard, pay back at
least a little what he had done to Tom.

Voyager would be with them shortly and he gently shook Tom awake. 
When Tom saw who was leaning over him, an expression of fear crossed
his face and his body tensed, although he did not attempt to move
away; he had swiftly learned that he would be punished if he did so. 
For a moment Tom had thought that the escape had all been in vain,
that he was back on the Extreme, in Captain Chakotay's quarters. 
Inside, Chakotay felt deep hurt at this reaction, which Tom was
obviously not able to control, because as soon  as he remembered who
this Chakotay was, he wiped his face clean of expression and
consciously relaxed his body.  But it was too late, Chakotay knew that
Tom feared him, at a level too deep for him to control, and that he
possibly always would.  Chakotay valiantly battled to keep his
emotions from showing on his face; he must be strong for Tom, but he
was mourning the loss of hope regarding the man he loved, who he
feared would now never be  able to return his affections.

Then they heard once more the sound of Janeway's voice hailing them.
Chakotay dove to the helm to answer her, smiling in pleasure at seeing
her after so long.  Her face lit up at the sight of him, but then a
frown crossed her face.

"Where's Tom?" she enquired.  Chakotay motioned to Tom to stay where
he was.

"He's been injured Captain."  At her sharp intake of breath, he
hastened to add,  "Not terminally, but I think it's best he stays
where he is for now." Chakotay was concerned to protect Tom, to not
allow everyone on the bridge to see him dressed as he was now.  He
suspected that Tom was going to need a lot of therapy and Chakotay did
not think it would be beneficial if the whole ship was speculating as
to why Tom wore a collar and skimpy tunic.

"I see," Janeway said slowly.

"In fact Captain, I think it would be best if I fly the shuttle in and
then we're both beamed directly to sickbay.  Perhaps you could meet us
there."

Janeway was no fool.  She nodded in assent and once the channel had
been
closed went to her ready room, where she called the Doctor and asked
him to clear sickbay.  Then she sat and waited, worried as to what was
wrong with Tom.  Finally she received word that the shuttle was on
board and set off for sickbay.  As she entered, her eyes drank in the
sight of her First Officer and Chief Pilot standing in sickbay,
rejoicing to see that Tom didn't look injured although, she frowned,
what was that he was wearing?  As Tom and Chakotay turned round to
face her, Tom automatically dropped to his knees, unable to prevent
himself from reacting to her presence as his superior officer, in this
way.  Janeway gasped and took a step back; the horrible truth of what
Tom had suffered beginning to dawn on her.

"Tom, Lieutenant," she said in dismay.  "Please get up."

Tom did so, flushing in embarrassment as he realised what he had just
done. Chakotay had not had a chance to say anything to the Doctor
before the Captain's arrival, but he too had drawn his own conclusions
by what he had seen and from Mr. Paris' attire.  The Doctor would not
admit it but he was very fond of the young lieutenant, who, annoying
though he could be, was one of the first people on Voyager to treat
him as a person, and had given him his support on more than one
occasion.  In addition he had been shaping up as a fine assistant in
sickbay.

"Lie down Lieutenant," he said, "I need to examine you."  He was
expecting the usual moans from Tom, something along the lines of 'Why?
I'm not sick, do I look sick, I'm perfectly fine!', and was surprised
and, truth be told, dismayed, when Tom obeyed him silently.

Janeway cleared her throat.  "I'll let the Doctor examine you now Tom.
We'll talk after he's done OK?"

Tom spoke in a low voice: "Yes Captain," was all he said.

Janeway went into the Doctor's office, nodding to Chakotay to follow
her, calling for a privacy lock once they were both inside.

"Chakotay," she started hesitantly, "it's good to have you back, to
have you both back.  But, what happened to Tom?"

Chakotay sighed and sat down on the edge of the desk heavily.  "It's a
long story, but the gist of it was that we were in an alternate
universe, where Humans maintain an Empire in which they rule by fear. 
Tom was captured by an Empire vessel upon arrival in the alternate
universe... and enslaved."

Kathryn's eyes were wide.  "How enslaved exactly?" she asked
carefully.

"He was the personal attendant to the Captain," Chakotay said
reluctantly, he didn't want to have to tell anyone of this, but knew
that he must.

Janeway drew a breath.  "I think I see.  And who was this Captain?"

Chakotay gulped: "He was my counterpart Captain."

Janeway stood there in silence not knowing what to say.  "That must
have been rough on both of you," she finally ventured.  Chakotay made 
a strangled noise, almost like a laugh.

"Not me, but Tom, for him it was..." words failed him.  "My
counterpart and his are enemies.  Captain Chakotay couldn't believe
his luck when he captured Tom.  He did his utmost to break him and I'm 
very much afraid that he almost succeeded."  Chakotay was unaware that 
tears had escaped from his eyes, to fall down his face as he said 
this, but Kathryn was observing him unhappily, seeing how upset he 
was.

"I don't mean to pry," she said, "but he doesn't appear to be
physically hurt."

"No, the damage is psychological.  My counterpart was far too careful
to mark him permanently, wouldn't want to mar his looks," Chakotay 
said bitterly.   The Captain's eyes widened at the implications behind 
that statement.  "He trained him to be the perfect slave, using that 
collar round his neck, it can give agonising pain as the owner 
desires, by using this," Chakotay held up his arm, showing her the 
wristband.  "I... took it off my counterpart, because Tom couldn't 
leave his quarters without being close to it."  He took a breath and 
continued. "Oh and Kathryn, what's been done to him..." His chest 
heaved, he didn't want to have to tell her this, but, as the Captain, 
Janeway needed to know the full extent of the damage inflicted on the 
young lieutenant.  "He, he, well you saw how he reacted when you 
walked in. That's part of his training too, he can't help himself.  
He's been trained not to speak unless given permission, and to, to 
give pleasure, sexually.  But, but," Chakotay choked.

Janeway's face was twisted with pain.  "What is it?" she said gently. 
"You don't have to tell me."

"No, no, you need to know how deep the damage runs.  I found out that
he's been trained so that he can't give pleasure to himself.  He's
incapable of masturbating, or, or" Chakotay squirmed, "or of entering
another man.  I asked him about women and he said he didn't know, that
Chakotay," he choked as he said the name, "forced him to have sex with
a female prisoner, but didn't allow him to come within her.  What I do
know is that he's incapable of taking the initiative sexually, even
when he's desperate."

Janeway swallowed heavily, gulping back tears. //Oh Tom,// she
mourned. //My fine young lieutenant.  How did I let this happen to 
you?//  "And your counterpart did all this to him in two weeks?" she 
asked, wondering at the procedures that must have been used to reduce 
Tom to this in that period of time.

Chakotay shook his head.  "There was a time dilation effect in the
wormhole. Kathryn, my counterpart didn't have Tom for two weeks, it
was five months!"

Janeway was silent, realising how long the young lieutenant had been
held, imagining what he must have suffered.  She hesitated and then
spoke:  "And you think that this will affect his ability to perform
his duties as well?" she asked, concentrating on the ship to avoid
giving way to her emotions. Chakotay's expression lightened slightly.

"That's the one thing that gives me hope," he said.  "When we were
escaping, Tom was almost like his old self, he took over the helm of
the shuttle and flew us out of danger brilliantly, used his
initiative.  I don't know about the rest of it, but I think he'll be
able to fly again, in time act as a senior officer again, or at least
I hope so."

"That's encouraging," Janeway said, "but he's going to need therapy. 
I'll talk to the Doctor about downloading some appropriate
sub-routines.  I think that that's the best thing because there's no
one qualified on board who could counsel him about this.  You're the
closest thing we've got to a counsellor, but in the circumstances...."
Her voice trailed off.

"He's afraid of me," Chakotay choked out.  "Terrified, and you've no
idea how much that hurts, when I love him so much."  He buried his
head in his hands as Kathryn laid her hand on his shoulder, now
beginning to realise the depth of pain carried by the Commander, as
well as Tom.  She could not see anything good in this situation at
all, she though in great unhappiness.

Janeway left Chakotay in the Doctor's office as she went to talk to
Paris. He was now wearing the sickbay uniform rather than the tunic
and the jewellry had also gone, but he was still wearing the collar. 
Kathryn smiled at him, a smile that he tentatively returned.  He
looked very vulnerable right now; there was no trace of any of his
usual cockiness, which Janeway knew from experience tended to manifest
itself when he was nervous.  But now, all Tom's hidden vulnerability
was dangerously close to the surface.

"How're you feeling, Tom?" Kathryn asked.

He took a breath.  "I don't know.  Relieved I guess.  Glad to be back. 
But I..." He hesitated.

"But what?" she prompted.

"I don't know how much use I'm going to be.  I mean..."

"Tom," she interrupted.  "You've been through a terrible experience.
Chakotay..." Kathryn observed worriedly the barely perceptible flinch
at the mention of his name.  "He filled me in somewhat," she
continued.  "Take as much time as you need to recover before you
return to the helm, and sickbay."  She smiled at the face Tom made at
the latter statement.  "And when you're recovered, and you *will*
recover lieutenant, I have the utmost faith in that, we'll all be very
glad to have you back, but I want you to get well first.  At some
point I'll need you to debrief me on what's necessary for me to know,
but there's no hurry.  Now," she continued briskly, I'll just have a
word with the Doctor and then we'll get that collar off."

Tom's hand went involuntarily to touch the collar, he was so used to
wearing it, it almost felt like part of him, notwithstanding that he
hated it. Janeway motioned to the Doctor to follow her to a corner of
sickbay away from Tom's biobed and asked him in a low voice what he'd
learned.  The doctor replied in an equally hushed voice.

"Physically, he's not too bad.  He's been subjected to systematic
physical abuse, but it's usually quickly been taken care of. 
Mentally," the Doctor sighed. "Well, what he's gone through is nothing
less than torture.  I anticipate nightmares, emotional disturbances,
possible flashbacks, exacerbated by the situation he was in."

"He told you then?"

"Some of it.  Enough for me to guess the rest," the Doctor said
grimly. "He's going to need intensive therapy, I thought perhaps I 
should download some psychiatric sub-routines, although I'm not sure 
how qualified I am to help him," he said with uncharacteristic 
humility.

Janeway smiled at him warmly.  "I was going to suggest the same
thing," she said, pleased that the Doctor had suggested it.

"I can't say how long it will take, but I do know that Mr Paris is a
lot stronger than he thinks he is.  I'm hopeful that he will 
eventually make a full recovery."

"That's good news, Doctor."  She hesitated.  "Are you aware of the
sexual dysfunction he's experiencing?"

"No, he didn't mention anything about that."

Janeway sighed and told him what Chakotay had told her.  The Doctor
looked grave at this news.  "I see," he said slowly.  "Well I can't
pretend that this doesn't complicate matters.  For a man, particularly
a young one, and it being Mr Paris at that, with his, er, reputation,
to suffer this."  He shook his head.  "But I still hope that he'll
recover even from this."

"I hope so," said the Captain.  "We need to get this collar off.  I
was thinking of calling B'Elanna to deal with it, but do you think 
that that will distress Tom?"

"I think we ought to ask him.  He's certainly rational.  He may react
badly when he sees her, but we can at least see how he takes the
idea."

Janeway approached Tom.  "About the collar," she began, "I think we're
going to need B'Elanna's help.  Is that all right with you?"

Tom closed his eyes.  "I don't mind her knowing, I guess.  B'Elanna,
Harry, they're going to know something's wrong anyway.  But, I don't
really want the whole crew to know the details.  I don't think I could
stand the sympathy," he said wearily.

"There's no question of that," Janeway reassured him.  "No one will be
told who doesn't need to know."

"Like Tuvok," Tom grimaced.  "Oh well, at least he won't be offering
tea and sympathy."

Janeway smiled at this typical Tom comment.  This seemed to her to be
a good sign.  She called B'Elanna to come to sickbay, but intercepted
her as Torres burst through the doors, anxious to see both Chakotay
and Paris.  Janeway took her to one side and quickly explained that
Tom was wearing a collar, which had been used to control him. 
B'Elanna was horror-stricken.  As she was about to approach Tom,
Chakotay exited from the Doctor's office.

"It's great to see you Chakotay," she said, conscious of his strained
expression and reddened eyes.

"You too," he said wanly.  "Captain, I'm not certain whether it would
be best for me to stay or go right now."

"I think that maybe in the circumstances it would be better if you
left," Janeway said reluctantly.  He nodded and left, going towards
his quarters.

B'Elanna turned to Tom, who was resting with his eyes closed.  "Hello
Tom, it's good to see you," she said gently, pleased to see that he
did not look much different physically.  He opened his eyes at the
sound of her voice and smiled at seeing her.

"You too.  And how's Harry?"

"He's fine.  We've missed you."

"That's nice to hear.  I guess five months is quite a time."

"Five months!" she exclaimed startled.  "But it's only been two
weeks!"

"There was a time dilation effect," Janeway explained.  "For Tom and
Chakotay it's been five months."  She looked closely at Tom as she
said Chakotay's name.  Yes, there it was again; Tom flinched at his 
name.

"Well, OK," B'Elanna said concentrating with typical efficiency on the
problem at hand.  "Hmm," she muttered.  "I think maybe if I try this
I'll get the collar off..."

Once B'Elanna removed it, Tom grabbed it out of her hand, twisting it
in his.  "Can you destroy it?" he asked.

"I can disperse it into space if you like."

He nodded.  "Please."

"Fine."  As she turned to go, she whirled round and asked:  "Tom, is
it all right if Harry and I, or just Harry if you prefer, come and see
you later. We really have missed you."

Tom nodded and turned a genuinely sweet smile on her.  "I'd like that. 
But, maybe give Harry and I a little while alone first OK?"

"OK," B'Elanna beamed, as she left sickbay.

"Well Mr Paris," the Doctor said, "I suggest you rest for a while.  We
need to talk, but later I think."

"Thanks Doc," Tom said swinging his legs off the biobed.

"I'll come with you as far as your quarters if I may," Janeway said. 
Tom gave her an exasperated look.

"I *can* still find my way to my quarters you know.  It may have been
a while, but my memory isn't that bad!"

Janeway shrugged.  "I know, but well, I'm glad to have you back you
know." Janeway didn't want Tom exposed to the welcome of his crewmates
without anyone there to act as a buffer.  Once she got Tom back to his
quarters, she was then going to have a talk with Chakotay.

Tom shrugged and started to follow her out of sickbay, but she slowed
to allow him to walk beside her.  He looked uncomfortable, but carried 
on gamely.  They arrived back at Tom's quarters without incident,
although all the crew they saw greeted Tom warmly.  He was overwhelmed
by their good wishes and Janeway, who was watching him closely noticed
the lines of strain round his mouth.  She followed him in to his
quarters, ordered a bowl of tomato soup for him from the replicator
using her rations and settled him on the couch.  It was only when Tom,
with a gleam of humour in his eyes accused her of acting like his
mother that she desisted in her attentions, looking somewhat sheepish,
and left him alone.


When she had gone, Tom leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. 
He was trembling.  He had managed to put up something of a façade
while in the company of others, but now that he was alone, reaction
had set in with a vengeance.  He pulled his feet up onto the couch and
wrapped his hands round his knees.  It was just beginning to sink in
that he was free, but he was not able to rejoice in it.  He felt numb. 
Tom sat there unmoving for several hours, still in his sickbay attire. 
Now that he could do what he liked, without fear, he didn't know what
to do.  Dimly he was aware that he should be alarmed at this
uncharacteristic apathy, but the strain he had been under for several
months had taken its toll.

He raised his head when he heard the doorbell beep for admittance.

"Come in."

The door opened and Harry walked in, his broad smile fading when he
saw Tom's posture on the couch.

"Are you OK?" he enquired anxiously.

"Never better Har.  Please sit down."  Tom indicated the seat next to
him. Harry sat in silence.  Tom stirred.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.  "I don't think that I'm very good
company right now."

"B'Elanna told me what happened," Harry said awkwardly.  "I just
wanted you to know that we're both here for you, anytime, really,
whenever you need us."

"Thanks Harry. I'll remember that."

"Would you like to be alone?"

"No, no, I don't think so.  I'd like you to stay.  Why don't you fill
me in on all the good gossip."

Harry smiled and started to talk, hoping that it wasn't going to be so
hard after all.  Forty minutes later he knew that something was
dreadfully wrong. Tom hadn't laughed once.  Oh, he had smiled in all
the right places, but had hardly said a word.  His subdued demeanour
was noticeable. 

//Well of course, idiot!// Harry thought to himself.  //He's been
raped, beaten and tortured by someone who he admired and respected,
maybe more, or at least his counterpart.  How did you expect him to
react?//

The doorbell rang.  It was B'Elanna.  She entered and started talking
in her normal manner, determined to carry on as usual.  It was only
while she was in the middle of complaining about something Seven had
done that she realised that Tom was crying.  She broke off in concern.

"Are you OK?"  Harry enquired, having spotted Tom's tears at the same
time as B'Elanna.

Tom wiped at his eyes with his hands, looking about twelve as he did
so. "I'm sorry," he sniffled.  "It's just, just that I didn't think 
I'd ever see any of you again.  I didn't think I'd see anyone again, 
no one that I care about.  I... I.... I'm sorry," he gasped, as he 
began to sob in earnest.  "I can't seem to stop crying."

Harry and B'Elanna exchanged glances and as one moved to hold him,
telling him that they were there for him, to let it go, they'd catch
him.  They held Tom, until he at last fell into a fitful sleep.  Then
B'Elanna picked him up and carried him to bed.  "I don't think we
ought to leave him alone," she said.  Harry nodded.

"How about we both take the couch.  It won't be comfortable but..."


Later that night, both Harry and B'Elanna were awakened from where
they had fallen into an uneasy dose by the sound of Tom's voice.  He
was pleading with someone who he referred to as "my lord" not to hurt
him.

"That must be Chakotay's counterpart," Harry said, through the
enormous lump in his throat.  He and B'Elanna moved into the bedroom,
to see Tom tossing and turning, crying out.

"Do you think we ought to wake him?" asked B'Elanna.  Harry nodded.

"I don't think we ought to let him suffer this," he said as he moved
to lay a hand on Tom's shoulder.  Tom sat upright with a gasp, crying
out:

"No!  Please!"  He suddenly realised where he was as he took in
B'Elanna and Harry's concerned faces.  "I'm sorry," he gasped.  "I, I
didn't mean to wake you."

"It's OK, it's OK," B'Elanna said quickly.  "We weren't asleep
anyway."  She noticed that Tom was trembling, fine tremors were
running through his body as he sat up, hugging his knees protectively. 
"Tom," she said hesitantly, "I don't know what to say, but if you need
to talk about it..."

Tom laughed bitterly.  "Talk!  I think I don't know how any more.  I
know, I know, me, Tom Paris with nothing to say, but he, he didn't
want me to talk, 'cept when he wanted me too.  So, so he trained me
not to.  And y'know what, you have enough pain, then you don't even
feel like it anymore, because you're so afraid.  You're afraid all the
time."

Harry and B'Elanna looked on in appalled silence at Tom's words.

"I'm sorry," he said again, "you didn't need to know what a fucking
coward I really am."

"No!" Harry exclaimed, followed simultaneously by B'Elanna's

"You're not a coward.  Never.  You've put yourself on the line so many
times for all of us."

Harry nodded in agreement.  "You're one of the bravest people I've
ever met."

Tom shook his head.  "You wouldn't say that if you knew, if you
knew... what he made me do, how I crawled to him, how I begged.  I did
anything, anything he wanted because I was too afraid not too..." His
voice trailed off as he buried his head in his hands, hiding his face
from them, not wanting them to see the shamed tears that were
cascading down his face.  Now they'd leave, now that they knew.  He
wasn't fit to be their friend, Chakotay was right, he was worthless. 
Then he felt two pairs of arms encircle him, holding him tightly.

"Tom," came B'Elanna's voice.  "I meant what I said, you are brave and
honourable and you're my friend and I hope you always will be no
matter what, because I'll always be yours."

"Mine too," said Harry.  "Please Tom, don't be angry, but we've talked
to the Captain and Chakotay.  We know what happened there in that
universe, that you were, were..."

"Chakotay's slave," Tom finished for him.  "It's OK you can say it. 
It's nothing but the truth after all," he finished bitterly.

"No, it's not," Harry said passionately.  "Yes, he captured you.  Yes,
he tortured you.  Yes, he may have forced you to, to service him," he
said wkwardly.  "But Tom, no one could have held up under what you
experienced, no one!  Not me, not B'Elanna, not the Captain, or
Picard, or Kirk.  No one!"

"But I could have, I could have..."

"What!  What could you have done?"

"I don't know.  Something!"

"No," B'Elanna exclaimed.  "Harry's right.  Don't you see, you
couldn't do anything then, but you can now.  You can let us help you,
so that you're back where you belong at the helm as quickly as
possible.  Please Tom, we love you, don't shut us out."

At last Tom raised his head and looked at them with reddened eyes. 
"You really mean that?" he asked slowly.

They both nodded.  "And I don't... I don't disgust you then?"

"Never!"  "No, of course not!" they both exclaimed.

Tom essayed a watery smile.  "Thanks guys, you're the best."

None of then said anything for several minutes, then Harry said
hesitantly: "Tom, if you ever want to talk about it... we're here for
you.  Nothing you say will ever make us not want to be your friend. 
You know that, don't you?"

Tom was silent for a long moment and then said in a dreamlike voice: 
"I couldn't believe it at first, that it was really happening 
y'know...."


Several hours later a ravaged Harry and B'Elanna entered their own
quarters. They had left Tom sleeping peacefully, the nightmares
temporarily held at bay.  B'Elanna had called Janeway once Tom had
fallen asleep and asked for time off, explaining the situation to her. 
Janeway had readily granted their request from her position in
Chakotay's quarters, where she had been debriefing him all night, but
more importantly been there for him as a friend.  Kim and Torres
looked at each other and then they were in each other's arms, hugging
one another tight.  Both were crying.  What Tom had told them had been
so appalling, so difficult to hear that each had forced themselves to
remain there, knowing that Tom needed them.  He had told them
everything, the words spilling from him once he started to talk.  More
than once they had each had to forcibly hold back tears, for Tom's
sake.  They would be strong, because they had to be, for Tom's sake,
but it had been so hard.

B'Elanna was the first to let go.  "I'd like to kill him, that,
that..." she couldn't find an epithet vile enough and took a breath
and continued.  "What he did..."

"I know.  If I hadn't heard it, well, torture is one thing, it's a
risk we run, but this!"

B'Elanna had a sudden horrible thought.  "If we feel like this, how
must *Chakotay* be feeling?"

Harry stared at her in appalled silence.  "Oh, gods," was all he said.

---

After a couple of days Chakotay returned to duty.  He had not been
sleeping well, tormented as he was by images of Tom, and he was having
nightmares about his counterpart, but was determined to get back to
some sort of routine as quickly as possible.  He had not seen Paris
since their return to the ship, knowing that it was unlikely Tom would
want to see him.  He had determined to try and concentrate on his
duties, anything other than Tom.  He had now told the Captain
everything, including how he had got the wristband off his
counterpart. Janeway had been privately appalled by this action from
her civilised Commander, but had realised the immense strain he had
been under.  The crew in general knew only the bare details of what
had happened to the First Officer and Chief Pilot, but were aware that
Paris in particular had been mistreated and would not be back on duty
for a while. However, they were glad that Chakotay was back on duty,
managing the staff. To all intents and purposes in the next few weeks,
Chakotay appeared to be his usual self, only the Captain, the Doctor
(who was monitoring his emotional equilibrium) and to a lesser extent
B'Elanna knew that this was a façade.

As for Paris, in the first few days back on Voyager, he spent a lot of
time just talking, to the Doctor, to Janeway and to his friends, Harry
and B'Elanna in particular.  True to his word, the Doctor had
downloaded some routines designed to assist the young man.  Tom's
emotional equilibrium was almost non-existent; he swung perilously
from one extreme to another.  He made good progress in the early days,
recovering to the extent that he was now capable of anger, but this
emotion could manifest itself quickly and without warning.  At these
times, in order to avoid burdening anyone else, he would disappear to
the holodeck, in order to work off some of his rage. There he would
beat the shit out of an opponent, sometimes several, and if often they
wore Chakotay's face Tom never said.  In the early days he would often
override the safeties, receiving a scolding from the Doctor each time
he had to patch him up.  However the Doctor knew that this was a
normal part of the healing process.

But Tom, reassurance from Harry and B'Elanna notwithstanding,
continued to have problems living with himself.  He was tormented by
thoughts of how he had obeyed Chakotay, how he had humiliated him, the
fact that he had been so afraid.  Rationally, he knew that there was
nothing he could have done, not if he wanted to live, but his
self-image had been irrevocably battered.  This was one more reason
why he was glad he had not seen Chakotay, the one person on board
Voyager who had seen his humiliation, even participated in it.  Again,
he knew that Chakotay had had no choice, that he had only done it in
order to rescue him, but emotionally, he could not help resenting him
for it, aside from the fact that it had been Chakotay's counterpart
who had degraded him.

As ever, he clung to the one thing he was good, no great, at.   The
one thing that no one could take away from him, his flying ability.  
His dreams of flying had immeasurably helped him during captivity, 
ensured that he did  not, quite, surrender to Captain Chakotay.  In 
this he would accept no  compromises and demanded that he be allowed 
to practice flight sims, insisting that he needed to keep his hand in
until he was back at the conn. When Janeway saw how passionate he was
about this, she acceded readily, realising that a great deal of Tom's
sense of self worth, which had been so damaged during his time in the
Empire, was bound up with his piloting abilities.

Initially, Tom didn't like to be alone, so the Captain ensured that
someone who knew the situation was always with him.  She asked
Chakotay to arrange the shifts to ensure that either she, Harry,
B'Elanna or the Doctor was always with him.  Janeway recalled holding
Tom in her arms as he cried, watched him rage, when his anger became
too much for him.  They forged a close friendship, independent of
rank; Kathryn had always had a soft spot for Tom and was fiercely
protective of him.  She was distressed to see the wreck of what had
once been her fast-talking, smart mouthed, impudent pilot

Tom at first found it strange to be sleeping alone.  He had been so
used to Captain Chakotay holding him possessively that he couldn't
luxuriate in the unaccustomed freedom.  He also had to adjust to
waking up without feeling fear, that had become an emotion he lived
with all the time.  When he finally realised that he could at long
last relax, he felt almost light-headed, freedom was a heady brew.  At
first he had frequent nightmares about his captivity, but eventually
they did decrease.  In the beginning he had had at least one every
night, till it got to the point where he was afraid to sleep, even
though there was always someone in his quarters with him.  As they
lessened and as he became confident enough to ask to be left to try
and sleep alone, the Doctor gave him dream suppressers, warning him
that he could not use them indefinitely, but Tom was relieved at being
able to go a whole night alone without a nightmare.  When he had
exhausted the supply, he had found that although he still had
nightmares, they were less frequent.  Initially all he had dreamed
about were the worse times, Chakotay whipping him, chaining him and
raping him, or forcing him to beg Chakotay to use him.  Frequently he
would awaken from these nightmares shaking with rage and would go to
the holodeck, to which Janeway had ordered that he should be given
access whenever he wanted it.


One night he was just about to exit from the holodeck, when he bumped
into Chakotay, who had thought that the holodeck was free and had been
unable to sleep.  The Commander had tried meditation, but without
success.  Neither man had seen the other since their return.  Paris in
particular had kept largely to his quarters or the holodeck, feeling
too emotionally fragile to see many people.  He recoiled upon seeing
Chakotay, but then nodded and made to pass on by, his face carefully
blank of expression, although inside his heart was hammering.  However
Chakotay stopped him, with a touch to the arm. Tom looked pointedly at
the Commander's hand.  Flushing, Chakotay removed it.

"How're you doing, Tom?" he asked awkwardly.

"Oh, just fine," Paris drawled, wary of the other man and desperately
trying to control the instinctive fear he felt at seeing the familiar
features.  He attempted to concentrate on the differences between the
two Chakotays, namely the differing tattoos, the Commander having
restored his tattoo to its former shape on his return to Voyager.

"That's good."  Chakotay took a breath.  "I gather that you're making
good progress, the Doctor hopes it won't be too long till you're back
on duty."

Tom stiffened.  "I didn't know he'd been discussing me with you."

"Well, he had to.  I need to know as First Officer when you may be
back on duty after all," Chakotay said reasonably.

"I see."  Tom turned to leave and then whirled round.  "So have you
been enjoying his reports?"

"Huh?"

"You've never made it a secret that you don't like me.  I'm sure you
must have really got a kick out of me spilling my guts to him like
that.  Had a good laugh about it."

"Tom!  No, I never..."

But Paris didn't listen, the pent-up feelings of bitterness
overwhelming him.  He was so sick of being afraid, of trying to be in 
control, not exploding in front of the people who were trying to help 
him, of living with the feeling of humiliation that was choking him.  
His self esteem had never been lower, he *knew* that he was a 
worthless coward, no matter what anyone told him, but just now, he was 
going to say what he wanted, he really didn't care what he said, not 
right now.   "And I guess you must've really enjoyed seeing me like 
that on the Extreme, seeing me crawl, watching me beg.  Hell, I know 
you enjoyed fucking me!  And the blow job.  I know I'm good at that. 
*He* told me often enough.  So, was that sufficient payback for that 
spy thing Commander, or the fact that I was on Voyager when it tracked 
you to the Badlands?  Was it!"

"Stop it!  Stop it," Chakotay repeated in a quieter tone.  "I never
felt like that, what kind of person d'you think I am, that I would 
*enjoy* that?"

"I know what kind of person you are.  You're the person who made me
crawl, who enjoyed raping me and torturing..."

"That wasn't me!" Chakotay yelled.  He was breathing hard.  "Spirits
Tom, I'd give anything for it not to have been my counterpart that did
that to you, you must believe me."

"Yeah right!"

"Please, come on, you know me.  D'you really think that I'm that kind
of person, not my counterpart, me!

Tom was silent.  "I guess not," he said finally, but then: "How you
must despise me."

"What! What makes you think I despise you?"

"How couldn't you?  I know I do."

"Tom, no.  Why?"

"Because he broke me," Tom choked out.  "You were there, you saw. 
What I became, how I, I..." he broke off, unable to continue.

Chakotay took a breath, and then another.  "No one could have held out
under that kind of treatment, no one."

"That's what they all say, but, but..."

"They?"

"The Captain, Harry, B'Elanna, Doc."

"Well they're right.  You know what I remember, I remember how
desperate you were to escape.  You practically ordered me out of that
chair on the Cochrane, flew us out of danger.  As for the rest of it, 
I hated it!  I hated what I had to do and I hate *him*, just as much 
as you believe me. But hate you?  I don't hate you, I lov....like you.  
And he didn't break you.  Did you ever give up on escape, did you?"

"Well, no, but..."

"But nothing.  You survived.  Many others, most others, wouldn't.  And
I admire you for that."

"You admire me!"  Tom started to laugh, but broke off when he realised
was beginning to sob.  "Thanks for that, I guess."

"Tom," Chakotay began hesitantly.  Paris looked at him expectantly. 
"D'you think we'll ever be able to work together again?"

"Oh sure," the young man returned lightly.

"No, really."

Paris sighed.  "To tell you the truth, I don't know.  I don't think
that I'm as afraid as I was, but... I don't really want to see you. 
Not now.  Shit, you probably feel the same way, right?"

"Uh, yes, right." Chakotay watched him leave silently, neither man
saying another word.  Inwardly Chakotay was hurting, badly.  How could
he cope with this when he loved the other man so much?


Kathryn was there steadfastly for Chakotay when he needed to vent his
feelings, his distress at what his counterpart had done to Tom, his
loathing of the man, his bewilderment because at some level the man
was him, which transmuted at times into self-loathing, because if that
Chakotay was capable of such atrocities, then maybe he was too. 
Kathryn had listened patiently to him, reminding him that they were
all capable of such behaviour, but in this universe at least, they did
not indulge in it.  She reminded Chakotay what Tom had learned about
the man's horrific childhood, the fact that the Empire positively
encouraged such behaviour in its denizens.  But most of all she was
there for Chakotay when his despair threatened to overwhelm him,  at
his hopeless love for Tom, his rage at his counterpart, whose fault it
was that Tom would never be able to return his feelings.  His guilt
that he had not been able to rescue Tom earlier, and his guilt that it
should be him, albeit a different him, who had so tormented Tom. 
Every time Tom flinched away from Chakotay, Kathryn was there. Holding
him. Comforting him when his emotions became too much for him to bear
alone.

---

As the months passed, Tom began to regain his emotional equilibrium. 
He managed to return to bridge duty relatively quickly, both Kathryn 
and the doctor deciding that a return to routine as soon as Tom was
capable would assist in his recovery.  He did not, however, work the
same shifts as Chakotay, although he attended staff briefings where
the Commander was present.  Both men studiously did not look at the
other, Tom because at times he could not control his involuntary
recoil and Chakotay because the sight of Tom in the circumstances was
almost painful to him.  The more observant members of the senior staff
noticed Chakotay's unease when Tom was resent and drew their own
conclusions.

Tom's flying was as good as ever, but initially his demeanour was
noticeably subdued, he did not make any cracks or comments.  The crew
as a whole noticed the change in him and were careful in their
treatment of him, which annoyed Tom no end, until a chance comment by
one of the male Humans in the messhall, in typically male boastful
style, that he'd "have her begging for it" set off a bad memory, which
caused Tom to rush to his cabin, where he threw up.  He was distressed
at his own fragility, it was no good that the Doctor assured him that
this was only normal, he hadn't been this bad when he came out of
prison, so why had he now fallen to pieces?  The Doctor explained that
although prison had been a bad experience, no one there had
specifically set out to break him; that was the difference from his
treatment at the hands of Captain Chakotay.  He reassured the
Lieutenant that in time he expected Tom to make a full recovery, that
Tom was actually much stronger than he realised, because he had
already recovered from so much distress in his life.  Why he was back
at the conn already, didn't he realise what good progress he was
making?  Tom would argue with the Doctor about that, which actually
pleased the Doctor, the arguments in themselves were a sign of
progress.  He had not attempted to resume his duties in sick-bay as
well, the Doctor deeming that one shift was all he should be asked to
handle, and, knowing how much he loved flying, recommended that he
should be at the conn.

However Tom was pleased to find that he weathered well his initial
meetings with both Miller and Dalby, maintaining a pleasant image in
public.  He paid later, though, with a resumption of violent
nightmares, but refused to let them get the better of him.  He made a
conscious effort and neither man was ever aware of any difference in
the pilot's attitude towards them.

Harry and B'Elanna continued to spend a lot of time with Tom, which
didn't change even when B'Elanna became pregnant.  Tom had been
delighted when they had told him that B'Elanna was pregnant, exulting
that he was going to be an uncle.  For a moment the pain that never
quite went away from his eyes lifted, and he looked more like the Tom
of old.  Chakotay had eventually told B'Elanna that her counterpart
and Tom's were involved in the alternate universe.  She had
immediately tackled Tom about this, finding him sitting alone, as he
had been a lot since he came back unless she, Harry or the Captain
were available, sitting in the observation lounge watching the stars
go by.

She had waded in without preliminaries, although pleased to see that
Tom seemed to genuinely welcome her presence.

"Chakotay tells me that you and I were.... involved in the alternate
universe."

"So I believe," Tom agreed, "although I never actually got to meet
them, as Chakotay did."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, it's not like you and I were ever going to get together so I
couldn't see the point," Tom shrugged.

B'Elanna looked at him in exasperation: "Still it would have been nice
to know.  Hmmm," she said thoughtfully, "Chakotay said that they
really seemed to care for each other, as much as anybody did in that
universe anyway."

Tom gave her a genuinely sweet smile, the one that was seen seldom,
but took your breath away when he used it.  "I'm glad," he said
simply.  "And who knows maybe in some universe we're together on
Voyager, one where I got to you first before Harry did."

She gave him a searching look.  "Maybe," she agreed, "one where you
stopped being a pig earlier than here."

"Ouch!" Tom proclaimed in wounded tones, "You sure know how to wound a
guy Torres!"

"I pride myself on it," she returned lightly, then leaned over and
kissed Tom on the cheek.  "See you later tonight flyboy?"

"You can count on it," said Tom pleased at this rare show of
tenderness from B'Elanna.

Kim and Torres had got into the habit of keeping an eye on both men.
B'Elanna was of the opinion that Chakotay was in love with Tom; Harry
was not so sure.  He put Chakotay's unease around Tom to guilt, but
B'Elanna who knew Chakotay better, and who had also spent sometime
talking to him about his experiences in the other universe, was sure
he was in love with Tom. Harry was sceptical, pointing out that
Chakotay and Tom had never exactly got on, however B'Elanna pointed
out that this might be the very reason *why* they hadn't got on.  When
Harry continued to express his doubts, B'Elanna told him that she knew
that Chakotay was attracted to Tom, as he had admitted it to her, on a
rare occasion when he had drunk some alcohol one shore leave in the
first year they had joined Voyager.  B'Elanna had been sounding off
about Paris' behaviour, Chakotay had agreed with her, but both had
agreed that Paris' exterior was a pleasure to look at, and it was a
pity about his personality.  Harry had seized this opportunity to
tease his wife, but later when they had both surfaced for air, he
admitted that he knew that Tom had been attracted to Chakotay.  They
had both agreed that the real tragedy, if Chakotay was desperately in
love with Tom, was that in the circumstances there was little chance
the two of them would ever get together.

"And the worst of it is," Harry said to his wife, "is that ...before,
I think that Tom would have liked a relationship with Chakotay, but
now...." His voice trailed off as he sighed.

B'Elanna moved closer to him.  "I know," she said softly.  "Poor
Chakotay, he's really suffering."

---

Gradually, so gradually that it was almost imperceptible, there began
to be glimpses of the Tom Paris of old.  The first time he cracked a
joke, while eating lunch with Harry, his friend laughed and then
stopped and stared.

"What?" asked Tom defensively.

"Nothing."

"No, what?"

"Well, it's just that I didn't think I'd ever be glad to hear you
whine about Neelix' cooking."

"Whine.  Whine!  I'll have you know I don't whine.  I critique, I
complain, I criticise, I..."

"Whine!"

"Maybe," Tom grinned.  Harry shook his head, but he was secretly
delighted.

As for Janeway, the first time Tom called her "Ma'am" on the bridge,
in that special tone reserved just for her, she felt tears pricking
the back of her eyelids, she had her young lieutenant back again. 
Eventually, as both the nightmares and the mood swings decreased,
Paris became more like the young man who had set off on the away
mission to the Lrycians so light-heartedly all those months ago.  He
would never be completely the same person, would always be marked by
what had happened, a little more serious, more aware of his strengths
and weaknesses.  But the jokes had returned; he was making comments on
the bridge again.  The crew in general agreed that Tom Paris was back,
only a select few knew that Tom's healing was by no means over, that
some deep routed sexual problems in particular still remained. 
However, even those were improving, the Doctor was pleased to note. 
He had been there  steadfastly for Tom, curbing his sarcastic tongue
when it was apparent that Tom was too fragile to deal with it.  He 
encouraged Tom, when the young man was at his most despondent that he 
would enjoy sex again, would experience sexual desire.

Tom found that as the months went by that he would sometimes dream of
the times when Captain Chakotay had treated him well, made love to him
slowly, the times they had talked, but in those dreams Captain
Chakotay wore the face of Voyager's Chakotay, with his tattoo, rather
than the alternate Chakotay's version.  And Tom was pleased to see
that at last his libido had returned.  Oh, he didn't find himself
aroused from the dreams of Chakotay, but he was dreaming of sex with
Megan, with Sue, even with B'Elanna.

//Not that I'm going to tell her that,// he thought.  Then came the
day when he found himself glancing admiringly at the scantily clad men
as well as the women in the resort holodeck programme, and laughed
aloud when he realised what he was doing.  //I'm really getting
better,// he thought happily.


A wonderful day was when Tom was able to masturbate for the first time
since his captivity.  He had woken up from a particularly erotic
dream, something to do with both Megan and Sue.  He was not fully
awake when he realised he was fondling himself absently.  Rather than
removing his hand as he had automatically done in the past, this time
he made a conscious effort and stroked himself to completion.  When it
was over, he reflected ruefully on the irony of being ecstatic at
actually being able to masturbate again, but knew that this meant he
was on the road to making some sort of recovery sexually.  The Doctor
was delighted with the news when Tom told him at their usual regular
therapy session.  Tom joked with him about his reaction, who ever
would have thought that the Doctor would be happy that *Tom Paris* was
getting horny!

Megan Delaney had remained a good friend of his notwithstanding their
past relationship.  She and Geron had recently split up 'by mutual
agreement' and she had spent much time talking to Tom about his
experiences, as he knew that in this he could trust her to maintain
his confidences.  Several weeks after Tom had first masturbated (which
he had been doing regularly ever since, encouraged by the Doctor),
Megan was bemoaning the lack of available men on Voyager.  When Tom
admitted that he was thinking about sex again, she had suggested that
he should have sex with her, '"just to check all parts are in working
order"'.  Tom had looked at the sly smile on her face as she said this
and burst out laughing.

"But seriously," she said, when their laughter had wound down.  "I
think it might be a good idea, no strings attached."

Tom had looked at her affectionately.  "You're a good friend, Megan,
but I don't think so."

"I do," she returned firmly.  "And besides you could be helping me
out. C'mon Tom, I haven't had sex in weeks and I am soooo frustrated!"

Tom had eventually acquiesced to her pleas and they had retired to his
quarters, at Megan's insistence, because she claimed hers were a mess. 
In reality she wanted to ensure that Tom felt as secure as possible,
hence home territory was in order.  They had taken it gently and
slowly, but when Tom had climaxed inside her he had burst into tears. 
She had held him through the storm of weeping and then suggested they
did it again, "for luck", and again!  Eventually Tom was able to get
beyond gentle to passionate to, as Megan put it, "incandescence". 
They were together again frequently for a few months until they agreed
to see one another less often.  Tom felt gratitude and affection
towards Megan; he was now even able to be playful during sex, and had
reclaimed joy.  As for Megan, she told him that he was far too good at
this, but as they weren't going to be together permanently, she needed
to find someone else, but that she would always have feelings for him,
love him as a friend.  He assured her that the feeling was mutual.

Finally came the day, not long after Tom and Megan stopped seeing one
another, when Tom came to see Captain Janeway and requested to be put
back on duty the same time as Chakotay.  She had looked at him
searchingly and asked if he was sure he could handle it.

"I'm sure.  I've discussed it with the Doctor and he agrees," he
confirmed.

"Very well Tom, you start tomorrow."

Kathryn called Chakotay into her ready room, to tell him the news.  He
was delighted that Tom felt that he could work with him, although also
apprehensive.  He had hardly seen anything of the young pilot,
catching glimpses of him outside staff meetings but that was all.  
However, his love for Tom remained as strong as ever and he had come 
to the conclusion, after much meditation, that he would always love 
him, much though part of him wished that this was not the case. His 
guilt at what his counterpart had done had not eased, but what he 
really wanted was for Tom to be happy, although he had not been able 
to prevent his feelings of jealousy when he  realised Paris and 
Delaney were together.  He reflected ruefully that he was just a man, 
not a shaman, after all.

The first day that Chakotay and Paris worked the same shift, if there
was slightly increased tension on the bridge, it was not immediately
apparent and if the Captain, Tuvok and Harry Kim watched both
Lieutenant Paris and Commander Chakotay more searchingly than normal,
no one else commented on it.  The shift passed without incident, Tom
even cracked a few jokes.  From that time Tom and Chakotay were
scheduled together as frequently as before their visit to the Empire. 
They even went on away missions together, but not just the two of
them.


Janeway scheduled both of them on a food gathering expedition for some
urgently needed supplies on a planet that was inhabited by aboriginal
life forms, but there was no real civilisation.  Chakotay was in
overall command of a team of thirty, with Tom as his number two.  The
planet was beautiful, primeval, as Chakotay commented appreciatively.

Tom looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Remind you of home?" he
asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"So, you must love heat, humidity and ouch!" he slapped at his neck as
an insect bit at it.  "Insects!"

"Sure."

Paris shook his head in disgust.  "I'm a city boy myself."

"Really," Chakotay teased.  "I'd never have guessed!"

"It's OK for you," Tom groused.  "You're built for this type of
environment. Not melanin impaired.  Shit!" he looked at his hand in
disgust.  "I'm beginning to get sunburnt too!"

"I thought the Doctor was supposed to give you something to protect
against that?"

"He did, but I...er, forgot it."

"Great!  I think you better go back to the shuttle to catalogue
supplies."

Tom grinned at him.  "That's fine by me."  Chakotay watched him go,
frowning.  He wouldn't put it past Paris to manufacture this situation
to get out of the actual food gathering.  Chakotay recalled he had
never expressed any enthusiasm for this task in the past.

Back in the shuttle, Tom hummed to himself happily, pleased that his
plan had worked.  //After all,// he thought defensively, //someone
needed to do this, so why not me?// 

He was also pleased that he was coping OK with Chakotay on a one to
one basis.  The constraint he felt in the Commander's presence hadn't
completely subsided.  He had his doubts that it ever would, but he put
up a pretty good front, he thought, and the more he pretended, the
easier it got.  However, he still felt acute embarrassment when he
recalled that Chakotay had witnessed his humiliation, even
participated in it.  Although he mostly didn't think of Chakotay as
his counterpart, he still had occasional moments when he would mistake
the Commander for Captain Chakotay, and would momentarily freeze,
afraid.  He would curse at himself as a coward at these moments.  In
spite of all the reassurance he had received, his deep routed feeling
of inadequacy, which Captain Chakotay had done so much to build up,
still persisted.

He checked the supplies off as each team called in its stock, shaking
his head in disbelief as he realised that he was... not exactly
enjoying it, but...

//It sure beats being out there though,// he thought, wondering
longingly whether there might be some cooler weather further away from
the equator.  Scans had indicated that the particularly nutritious
foodstuffs grew here, but there was snow (and skiing!) further north,
or south. Whatever, he was certain that he was not built for tropical
climates.  His commbadge beeped.  Chakotay informed him that he was on
the way back to dump his latest load and check how much more they
would need to gather.  Tom informed him sweetly that he could tell him
the latest figures right away, no need to bother to come back, but
Chakotay insisted. 

//In other words nature-boy wants a break, too,// Tom thought,
grinning.  He was bending to sniff dubiously at something one of the
other teams had brought in about 30 minutes ago, thinking that it bore
an uncomfortable resemblance to leola root, when he heard a scream!

He grabbed a phaser and swiftly left the shuttlecraft moving towards
the source of the disturbance.  There were four or five large 
aboriginal inhabitants, bending over someone who was prone on the 
floor.  Chakotay! Fuck! Tom cursed; the aborigines were not supposed 
to be in this area, but their sensors had not been able to be too 
specific, there was some background radiation that caused 
interference.  He raised the phaser and took careful aim, figuring 
that a brief spell of unconsciousness should not cause any undue harm 
to the native lifeforms.  He pressed the button. 

Fire!

Nothing happened.  He tried again.  Still nothing.  The natives
appeared to be jabbing at Chakotay with a spear.  Tom took a deep
breath, hit his commbadge, and ordered everyone within range to get 
his location as quickly as possible, yelled and charged.  The 
aborigines looked round startled by this action.  Surely the peculiar 
looking whatever coming towards them couldn't be alone?  Tom reached 
the nearest, and tackled him.  The native went flying!  And then 
another!  But he was heavily outnumbered, all the aborigines were 
larger than he was, it was only a matter of time before he went down.  
Tom was grappling with another native, and losing, when someone hit 
the native from behind, Neelix!

The aborigines saw that more and more of the peculiar looking
whatever's were running towards them, and, proving that the concept 
discretion is the better part of valour is universal, ran!  Tom 
dropped to his knees beside Chakotay, panting, to find that the 
Commander was conscious, but wounded in he side.

"We need to get you back to the shuttle," Paris said.  "The medkit's
there."

"You're insane Paris," Chakotay said, clearly in pain, but game none
the
less.

"Excuse me?"

"You charged those natives, unaided."

"Well, I had no choice, the phaser wasn't working."

"I know, why do you think they caught me?  I haven't seen anything so
foolhardy for a long time."

"Gee thanks!"

"Or so courageous".  Tom reddened.  "Thank you, for my life.  That's
another one I owe you."

"I guess that makes us quits then, y'know, for the alternate
universe," Tom said awkwardly.

Chakotay shook his head.  "No, you're still ahead on points."

"You'd have been OK, the others would have been along soon anyway."

"No, they were about to kill me.  Without you I'd be dead."

Tom shook his head, but directed Ensigns Rawlins and Parsons to pick
up Chakotay, "Carefully, you idiots!" and carry him back to the 
shuttle.


Once there, Tom made a quick examination, determined that the injuries
were not life threatening, but decided that Chakotay would be better
off back on oyager.  As for Chakotay, he was revelling in being so
close to Tom, looking up at the beloved face bending over him,
enjoying the feel of his long fingers gently lifting up his uniform,
particularly as Tom had injected him with pain relief so he was not in
discomfort.  Tom's whole attention was on Chakotay as his patient, in
his preoccupation not even realising that this was by far the closest
he'd come to the man since their return from the  other universe.  The
transporters were not operative through the background interference,
but as the supplies were largely collected, Tom decided to fly  this
shuttle up to Voyager.  He gave out orders with a calm confidence; his
normal self-doubts wholly absent in the circumstances.

Approximately one and a half-hours later Chakotay was resting in
sickbay, having been fixed up by the Doctor.

"Excellent job, Mr Paris," the doctor commented.  He had perforce had
to train up other medical assistants during Tom's absence, but had 
missed the young man's presence as his assistant.  "You wouldn't like 
to resume some shifts in sickbay would you?"

Tom looked thoughtful.  "Actually, I might," he said, much to the
Doctor's surprise.  "Let me think about it, OK."

"Of course," said the Doctor, hopeful that he would actually accede to
the Doctor's request.

Tom smiled at Chakotay.  "Glad that you're OK," was all he said as he
left.

"Thanks again," Chakotay called after him, but the young man did not
turn round.


Later that day, after Paris had gone off shift, he was in his quarters
reading when someone requested admittance.  "Come in."  In walked
Janeway.

"Kathryn, hi.  To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She sat down on the couch beside him, their friendship having long
since developed to the point where it was not necessary to ask for
permission.

"Chakotay told me what happened today."

"Oh that," he said dismissively.

"Yes that.  Tom, what you did today was incredibly brave, you know
that."

"To tell you the truth, I didn't have time to think about it."

She shook her head.  "That's not true, you called for assistance, took
over leadership of the away mission.  Tom, I'm very proud of you."

He felt tears pricking the back of his eyelids; her good opinion meant
so much to him.  "Anyone would've done the same."

"Chakotay doesn't think so and nor do I.  I'm putting you in for a
commendation." She hesitated.  "I know that you still have problems
because of what happened in that other universe, but my good opinion
of you has never wavered, you know that.  Perhaps what I say, what we
all say, won't make any difference, but you are one of the bravest
people I've ever met and I can't tell you how happy I am to have you
here on Voyager."  She saw that  Tom was fighting back tears, patted
him on the arm and left.

Tom sat there thinking.  He still couldn't see what the big deal was,
but was pleased that he had not once recoiled from Chakotay.  And
maybe, just maybe, they were right.  Maybe he wasn't a total coward
after all.


Several weeks later, Tom challenged Chakotay for the first time since
their return to Voyager to a game of pool in Sandrines.  Tom had been
relaxed at being in the same room as Chakotay off duty since the
incident with the aborigines, but had not socialised with him.  The
Captain and Paris had been playing and she had just narrowly beaten
him.  He had commented that he needed to look for easier prey, and
looked over to where Chakotay was sitting at a table talking to Carey
and Wildman.

"How about it Commander?"  Tom challenged.

Chakotay looked up in surprise, hearing Tom's words, and then he had
smiled, a wide beaming smile.  "You're on," he returned, "but I warn
you that I've not got any intention of going easy on you, unlike the
Captain!"

From that time, Tom and Chakotay occasionally socialised together, but
only when other people were present.  Chakotay was grateful for what
he could get, unconscious of his longing glances at the young man, not
admitting to anyone how his dreams tormented him, teasing him that he
and were Tom together making love, unable to forget that time in the
shuttlecraft.  More times than he could count he had woken up to Tom's
name on his lips feeling his own seed drying cold on him.  Perhaps
even worse were the times he dreamed of simply holding Tom, or
laughing with him, or talking to him.  He had hoped that his longing
for Tom would decrease as time went on, but that was not the case.


One day, about a year after they had returned to Voyager, Chakotay
walked into Sandrines to find that Tom was the only other person
there.  He had hesitated and turned to walk out, when Tom's soft tenor
had halted him.

"Don't go," Tom said.  "Have a drink with me."

Chakotay examined Tom's face; his expression was open and easy.  "OK,"
he said slowly.  He and Tom sat down at a table, ordered their drinks
and let the holographic waiter bring them over.  Silence fell,
eventually broken by Tom.

"So, how've you been?" he ventured.

"Oh fine. You?"

"Yeah, I'm OK, really... OK."  Tom inhaled deeply.  "Y'know" he said
quietly "I didn't think it would ever happen, but when I look at you I
don't see him any more."

Chakotay took a breath.  "You have no idea how happy that makes me,"
he said.

"I think... I think I know.  I'm not blind, Chakotay and I think that
I know how you feel about me."

Chakotay winced.  "I didn't want you to know," he admitted.  "I didn't
want to add to your problems.  I know that there's no possibility you
could ever return my feelings, not after what happened, but..."

"I also know how much you did for me, what you risked, you saved my
sanity, gave me my freedom.  And I can imagine how much it hurts you
to know that it was your counterpart who, who hurt me, but who's to
say if it had been my counterpart who captured you, that he wouldn't
have done the same thing."

Chakotay shook his head.  "Don't forget I met your counterpart.  I
don't think that he felt the same rage or need to dominate that 
Chakotay did."

"Maybe not" admitted Tom, "but then he had everything handed to him,
whereas Chakotay, well, he had to fight for what he had."

"That doesn't even begin to excuse what he did..."

"You know," Tom interrupted, "it wasn't all bad."

"It wasn't?" Chakotay asked in bewilderment.

"No, there were times when he could be almost... tender, when he acted
like he really cared.  It was at those times he most reminded me of
you, of how we might have been together, if..."

Chakotay felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes.  "Thank you," he
said unsteadily, "for telling me this."

Tom smiled at him sadly.  "I think that if... it, hadn't happened we
could have had a chance, but now, I don't know.  I don't know if I'll
ever be able to have a relationship again with a man, let alone you,
but..." he took a  breath.  "All I'm saying is that never is a long
time and I'm not planning on going anywhere."  He paused at the
hopeful look on Chakotay's face. "But, I have to say that the odds are
against us and that if you decide, if someone comes along, well don't
wait for me is all I'm saying."

Chakotay looked at him tenderly:  "I'll take those odds," he said,
"after all we've beaten the odds before."

Tom smiled.  "We have at that," he said, "we have at that."

---

The End