How in the space of a  few hours could things go so horribly wrong?  They had received word of Paris' abduction as alpha shift drew to a close.  Nothing could be done until Voyager entered orbit around the Aegesis homeworld and so, Chakotay  had retired to his quarters, determined to use the remaining few hours to rest.  Tuvok was on the bridge, his Vulcan stamina enabling him to endure longer duty hours than his alpha shift colleagues.  Though Chakotay knew he could relax with the Security Chief at his station, the fear would not be banished and the commander reconciled himself to the fact that it was going to be a torturous few hours to Aegesis space.

Was Harry beside himself with worry?  Chakotay suddenly found himself wondering.  He shook his head.  Since when did Harry's state of mind concern him?  Everything seemed jumbled in his brain, like threads tangled around  each other so it was impossible to find the ends of any one piece.  He wished he could blame Harry for this confusion, this ache that gripped him. Chakotay realised, though, that the torment had always been there:  Harry's words had only made it burn more fiercely.  If they were not too late, if Tom by some whim of the Spirits was returned to them unharmed, could he dare to say to him the thing he had wanted to say for a year?  To think about not saying it, to think about the possibility that only in the next life would Tom finally know this thing, made Chakotay squeeze his eyes shut tightly against the pain.

 "I love you, Tom."  The whisper flew from his heart and filled his empty quarters.

Harry Kim was having trouble sleeping.  His disobedient brain refused to shut down.  His traitorous body refused to relax.  His bed was distressingly large and empty.  Though his quarters were at their normal temperature settings, Kim felt a chill.  He had been lying, fully clothed on his bed.  Now, he got to his feet and headed out the door.  It was almost as if his body knew where he was heading before his brain had any idea.  Harry found himself standing outside the doors to Chakotay's quarters, fists clenched at his sides.  He  gave himself no time to think, signaled for entry before he could.

Chakotay stood before him.

"Harry?  What is it, Ensign?"

Kim stepped through the doors, ignoring the chill in Chakotay's reception.   Chakotay was already moving towards his sofa, calling for dim lights.

"We've got to talk."

"Talk?" Chakotay stupidly repeated.  He sighed.  "Look, Harry.  We've already been through this...."

"No we haven't, Chakotay.  We haven't been through anything.  You know that we need to talk about Tom."

Chakotay's anger flared.  The wall that came down was unmistakable.  Harry ignored it and threw himself onto the sofa.

"Forget it Harry.  I've already told you.  I don't want to hear anything you have to say."

 "I think you need to, Chakotay.  I need to say it and you need to hear it."

Chakotay wanted to delay this confrontation; wanted desperately to prevent himself splintering into tiny shards; wanted Kim out of his  quarters.

"Look," he began, not knowing where he got the strength needed to form the words, "I know you're worried but if anything has happened, the captain would certainly have contacted us.  You know that Tom's a fighter.  He knows Voyager is on the way and that rescue is inevitable.  All he has to do is hold out..."

"You think I want to have this conversation because I think Tom is dead?   Chakotay, we need to talk about this because I know that he's alive."

Once these words were out, Harry felt the tension and the anger draining out of him.  He pressed himself further into the sofa then turned  unreadable eyes upon the older man.  Chakotay regarded him coolly but Harry gave him a smile that faded slowly.

"How will you feel if we lose him?"  Harry softly asked.

 Chakotay stood very still and did not answer.

"It would kill me.  I think the same is true of you.  I know you have a special feeling for the captain but let's not kid ourselves.  You never stopped loving Tom.  I used to think that you would in time."

"Ensign, what may or may not be true about me is really beside the point, don't you think?  Let me put your mind at rest:  I have no designs on  Tom.  He's made his choice and that's the end of it."

"Harry."

"Harry?" Chakotay repeated blankly.

"Not Ensign.  Harry.  For someone supposedly so in touch with himself, so  spiritually aware, you can be so damn stupid at times."

Chakotay was so shocked, he could think of nothing to say.  Harry slid across the distance separating them and touched Chakotay's shoulder.  The commander  began to wonder if this were some insane waking dream and could hardly believe it when he did not shrink from Harry's touch. 

Harry leaned closer to Chakotay's ear and softly demanded, "Tell me about Tom."

 No, Chakotay wanted to say.  He swallowed.

"I bet you never talked about any of it, not even to the captain.  I bet it's all still inside you, locked away.  You're just ignoring it but even I can see it  won't be ignored.  When's the last time you let somebody touch you, Chakotay?"

When he received no answer, Harry continued, "Just so you know, I couldn't believe it when Tom broke up with you.  I couldn't believe that after chasing you so long and so hard, he was ready to give it all up and come to me.  I didn't dare think about it just in case it wasn't true.  Damn.  I can't even remember what the first weeks of  our relationship were like because I was so convinced that Tom would wake up and realise that he'd made a horrible mistake.  Some part of me knew that he'd eventually go back to you."

 "You must be relieved to find that you were wrong."

Kim ignored the sarcasm.  "Actually, I was wrong but not in the way you think.  It's taken me a long time to admit it but I can see it clearly now.  You see, Tom's never really left you."

He watched Chakotay carefully, trying to gauge how the man would react to these words.  Chakotay sat beside Kim, eyes closed and giving no sign that Harry had been heard.

 "He left me, Harry.  Make no mistake about that."

"You mean I have him physically.  Do I have to spell it out for you?"

Yes! Chakotay wanted to scream.  Yes because, as spiteful and  juvenile as it sounds, I want you to have just a moment of the sort of pain I've been carrying for so long now and that one moment still wouldn't be enough.

Harry inched a fraction closer.  "I've made up my mind about a few things," he began.  "And once I do, it's murder getting me to change it.  Ask Tom."

Dry lips brushed his cheek ever so slightly.  Chakotay froze, even as he felt something crumbling  inside him.  Harry's mouth wandered to the older man's chin, his tongue dipped into the little cleft there and for a second, Chakotay considered surrendering to the fire kindling in his belly.  He brought his hands up  to Harry's arms, intending to push the ensign away.  Harry pressed forward with all his weight, his hands found Chakotay's hips, his mouth, Chakotay's mouth.  The commander felt his objection leaking away as his body  started to respond to the Harry's onslaught.  He pushed, weakly, half-heartedly and Harry only chuckled, a sound from deep inside that solid body, not moving his mouth from Chakotay's, his tongue demanding entrance.   Kim pushed him down and straddled him, both men breathing hard.

"No, Harry.  This isn't right...  not now...."

"You're wrong.  Now *is* the time, the only time I'll have to do this."  His expression was serious, determination in his eyes.  "If you tell me no now, you'd better mean it."

"I do.  Get out before I throw you out."

"You can try.  I'm younger, faster and know a few tricks of my own.  I'm arrogant enough to think I can handle anything you might have picked up from your Maquis days so if you can, tell me no again and I'll stop."

Harry's hand slipped down to cup the bulge in Chakotay's uniform.  He squeezed gently as he nuzzled Chakotay's neck, making little noises of approval at the reactions the commander could not control.

"It's been too long for you,"  Harry murmured against the smooth brown skin.  "Tom and I will have to do something about this.  But first, I'm going to fuck you senseless - just so I don't feel like the odd guy out."

 "You and Tom?" Chakotay sighed.  He threw his head back.

"Of course.  It's the only solution."

Harry Kim fastened onto his commanding officer's exposed throat, sucking hard.  Chakotay had  stopped thinking, stopped fighting.  Large hands snaked around Harry, squeezed his ass and brought hard cocks together.  Harry lazily explored Chakotay's throat with his tongue, tugging the collar of his uniform aside  to reach sensitive spots, grinding against the man beneath him, the friction moving them relentlessly towards the edge.

A frenzy of motion and Harry was on his feet, pulling Chakotay up as well.  The blood began to return to the commander's brain and he said, "Harry, we'd better talk about this."

"I'm through talking."

"But Tom...."

"Will see I'm right."

The bed was beneath them.  Harry made short work of Chakotay's uniform and lost no time shedding his own.   He crawled over Chakotay's prone form, rubbed himself sensually against the older man before swooping down suddenly and kissing him.  He paused just to look at the man beneath him; not an ounce of fat, flat, muscular stomach, the muscular thighs.  He almost laughed.  Despite his bravado, he knew he would have been hard pressed to best the commander if things had come to blows.

But they had not.

They came together with an intensity that ignited flesh and spirit, incinerated any thought or emotion not directly connected with release; with smooth brown skin, straight, thick black hair; strong arms, long legs that locked urgent, grinding bodies together.  Oh yes, a tiny part of Harry that wasn't consumed with lust realised;  when Tom once again could gaze down at Chakotay and see this  look of abandon!  A chasm was opening before him and Kim began to moan softly.  Closing his eyes, pressing harder into Chakotay as if they could meld into one, Harry stepped over the edge and knew the moment when  Chakotay followed.

Harry began to kiss damp skin everywhere, anywhere and he murmured between kisses.  Caught in a fierce embrace, he could do little other than relax, enjoy the intimacy, the lazy, spent feeling that followed their lovemaking.  Eventually, he realized that he wasn't being held quite so tightly.  Chakotay had drifted into sleep.  Kim kissed his cheek and lay awake awhile longer contemplating the next step in  the journey he had begun.
<><><>

Tom Paris, well trussed and on the floor of a small dimly lit room, heard  voices.  Not conversation, he realised, as consciousness slowly returned.  What he heard was singing and the sound went through him like a cold mist, rattling his bones.  It was too far away for the universal translator to make sense of the haunting sound. Low and powerful, it continually captured his attention. He wanted to know what it was about, beautiful and sad in a way Tom couldn't completely describe.  He resolutely did not think about the possibility that it was a funeral dirge.  Would they bother with such  formality for an offworlder?

Paris grunted.  The Aegesis, from what he could see, were completely unpredictable.  Who the hell knew what they would do?!  Certainly not himself.  He was still struggling  with the fact that warp drive and such an archaic thing as a caste system could exist side by side.  Kilbrathe.  Servitude, the universal translator had said.  To Tom, it seemed uncomfortably more like some complicated, alien form of slavery.

Looking slowly around the room, Paris chided himself:  this wasn't the time to think about the Aegesis and their problems.  He had a very big problem of his own right now.   Later was the time to analyse this eclectic culture.  When he was safely on Voyager, amongst those he loved, there would be plenty of time to wonder about this unlikely world. Voyager was speeding towards them even now.  If he could just manage to stay alive, there'd be no question but that rescue would come.

The door opened, giving a glimpse of a dimly lit, rough hewn hallway.  Tom struggled upright and stared at the Aegesis  who entered the room.  With a sinking heart, he recognised his attacker from the marketplace.  Silently he watched the male approach him and squat down before him only a few feet away, the cruel eyes fastening upon him with uncomfortable intensity.

"We heard there were offworlders among us but I must admit I didn't believe it until I saw you in the marketplace.  Where do you come from?"

"Does it matter?" Tom  asked carefully.  The Aegesis did not move or reply and Paris shifted, trying to get comfortable.  "My world is very far from here.  We're only trying to get home.  We've no intentions of staying in  this part of space."

The other nodded.  If it weren't for his eyes, Paris might have thought that he was prepared to be reasonable.

"The Gelaheern have been taking very good care of you, no doubt; food and  wine and stories of their great civilisation."

The hairs on the back of Tom's neck began to rise.  He forced himself to remain calm.

"We don't know that much about your world.  We hadn't even intended to come here - wouldn't have if we weren't forcibly dragged here by your tow beam."

"*Their* tow beam!" the male shouted.  "Everything on this world is theirs!  They allow us nothing, not even our  own lives."

Tom inhaled sharply.  A careless mistake here would be very costly indeed.

"Sorry.  I've been here long enough to understand that.  I'm sorry."

Something flit across the  Kilbratahr's face and he backed up a fraction, sat before Tom, his legs gracefully, effortlessly crossed.  Tom was once again aware of that difference between Gelaheern and Kilbratahr; a difference he didn't even think  about until he realised that instead the uniform beauty of Io, Sef and Rafa, he was looking at a beauty that was distinctly male.  High cheek bones, prominent adam's apple and the very beginnings of a beard, enough to be  noticeable; Tom didn't think that, in the short time he'd been on this planet, he'd seen anyone with facial hair.  He wondered briefly if, in a futile effort to make their difference not so obvious, Kilbratahr and Ahkara males inhibited their beards.  If that were the case, that this male was allowing his to grow somehow seemed appropriate to Paris.

"You seem very willing to talk to us."

 Paris shrugged.  "There's no reason why I shouldn't."

"We are Kilbratahr who won't accept what is," Ula announced defiantly.

Tom said nothing for a moment as if digesting that particular piece of information.  Finally he said, "I'm Tom Paris."

"Tom Paris.  I am Ula.  It is my own name.  When I started this new life, I shed the Gelaheern tag I was given at birth.  This name came  to me in a dream."  The young man paused.  "And I like its sound."

Tom smiled and nodded.  Ula gave a small smile in return but it quickly faded.

"You are in a lot of trouble, Tom  Paris.  The Gelaheern will not negotiate for your release.  If your leader does not meet our demands, I'm afraid things will not go well for you."

 "Hmm.  Captain Janeway does not respond well to threats."

"We are desperate.  You have come from the stars.  You can help us defeat the Gelaheern.  There's no reason why you should do this out of the goodness of your hearts.  But if we have you, your leader... your captain, just might give us a few weapons superior to those of the Gelaheern."

Tom shook his head.  "Ula, we can't do that.  If my captain has to leave me here and I die, well, that's what's going to happen.  But no way can we influence the balance of power here...."

"Then you effectively side with the Gelaheern!   They will wipe us out and our people will remain in Kilbrathe for more millennia upon millennia!"

"I don't think so.  Look.  I'm new to your world and you'd be right to tell me that I don't know anything.  But it seems to me that just by making this visit, Captain Janeway and I have changed things for the Aegesis Alliance - for Gelaheern and Kilbratahr alike.  It might take a long time and it won't be easy,  but this society has to change now."

Ula clenched his jaw.  His eyes were hard.  Tom wondered if anything he said had been understood by the male.  He watched the beautiful face but could only guessed what thoughts there were behind the dark eyes.

"How long are we expected to wait, Tom Paris?"  he demanded.

Tom could only exhaled, struggle with his inability to answer the question.  Ula's appraising look,  however, did not escape his notice.

"I cannot say I completely disagree what you've said," Ula continued, "but no one relinquishes power easily.  Your coming may mean change but that change will be hard  won.  And I must do what I can to bring it to my people as soon as possible."  Ula waved a hand.  "You'll die if your captain won't be reasonable."

"I never doubted it."

It was sincerely said and the two men locked eyes, each taking the measure of the other.  Finally, Ula nodded ever so slightly and Tom ventured the question that had been on his mind since he regained consciousness.

"Ula,  what is the singing about?  I don't think I've ever heard anything quite like it."

Ula cocked his head as if weighing up responses.  Tom thought he saw a flash of admiration in those mysterious eyes but like so much about the Aegesis, it was elusive.

"The song is about one of our most ancient tales.  Mother tells this story to daughter all down the ages.  Now, our tales are written down but the written word is fragile.  The tradition of the teller of tales is still strong amongst us. 

"This song is about a Kilbratahr woman who lived long ago.  It's a very long song.  It tells all about this woman's life  and the Gelaheern she served.  She was a fortunate one in that she had only one master all her life.  Her only sorrow was being parted from her children.  The Kilbratahr of this Gelaheern house were prized throughout the land and so, the Ritual Of Parting was a common occurrence at this house.  It was a not only a source of income but also one of prestige.

"The master was not insensitive to her pain and promised that  her last child would not take part in the ritual.  But a request was made by a high ranking government official and there were no other Kilbratahr young ones of the appropriate age.  The loss of face if this request  was not met did not bear thinking about.  And so, the Gelaheern master broke his promise to the Kilbratahr woman.  Her last child underwent the ritual and left his home.  When the ritual was concluded, the master  could hear singing from a nearby field.  He approached the sound.  The woman was singing to the Goddess and the song was a sorrowful but defiant one.  No more, the woman sang.  She would not see another  Ritual of Parting performed.  The Gelaheern watched the Kilbratahr put a knife into her own heart."

Tom jolted.

"The last part of the song you heard," Ula continued, "incorporates the song of this Kilbratahr woman, whose name was Yshira.  It's called Go'uhl Yshira."

Tom blinked.  The universal translator hiccuped over go'uhl.  It offered 'lament' as a possible translation but there were connotations  Paris was certain he was not getting.

"These songs are a source of comfort, hope and inspiration to my people."

It clicked then.  Tom nodded.  "We have similar songs from long ago from people on our planet whose ancestors once were slaves.  We call them spirituals."

Ula was getting to his feet.  Tom felt his heart sink.  He realised he did not want to lose Ula's company.

 "I will be sorry to kill you, Tom Paris."

"Well," Paris drawled, "I'd hate for you to do anything you'd be sorry for later."

Ula looked at him for a moment and then smiled.  "If times were different, we could have become good friends, I think.  As things are, I must be denied this pleasure.   We can display no weakness, you understand."

The humour left Paris in a rush.  These were desperate people in a fight they currently had little chance of winning.  Tom felt a stab of pain and longing so strong, he nearly gasped.  He was rushing back through time and space to an instant that seemed so remote now, he could almost believe it never happened.  He stood before a proud and desperate man and pulled his disguise of very practiced flippancy tightly around him against the man's beauty and overwhelming sexuality.  This Maquis warrior was locked in a fight to the death with Cardassian invaders, a fight so like the futile wars of his ancestors against a tide that eventually inundated entire continents.

Paris' cell took shape around him once more and he became aware of Ula watching him with interest.  Tom blinked.  This was not his fight and this world was so many millions of light-years away from anything familiar to him.  Still, it occurred to Tom Paris, that there were much worse ways to die.

"Yeah, Ula.  I understand.  By the way, if you want to talk to Captain Janeway, I can contact her for you."

 Ula could not control his surprise.
<><><>

Aboard Voyager, on the bridge, Kathryn Janeway knew that something was not entirely right.  What it was, she could not say.  Perhaps it was concern for  Tom, the fact that there seem to be no time left, that the Aegesis would not even pretend to play for time.  Harry seemed calm and professional at his post, though she'd be surprised at anything else from the young  man.  Chakotay seemed calm but Kathryn could spot the little things that betrayed him.

Harry's excited voice suddenly cut through Janeway's brooding.

"Captain, I've got something."

Both she and Chakotay  were at Ops in a flash and the commander leaned close to inspect the readings for himself.

"Hmmm.  Can't beam him out directly.  Too much interference.  I'd guess this base is underground - some sort of natural formation and odd mineral deposits in the surrounding rock are playing havoc with the transporter.  But we at least have a location.  Good work, Harry."

Her heart sank as she listened to Chakotay give  voice to the readings Harry received, then confirmed for herself that beam-out was impossible.  She was also reluctant to spend the time exploring alternatives.  It appeared rescue would have to occur the old  fashioned way and the aid of Io's troops was imperative.

Just as she was about to give the order to contact Second Legate Rees, Tuvok's even tone announced, "Captain, Lieutenant Paris is hailing us."

 Everyone on the bridge froze.

"Put him through, Tuvok!  Tom!  Are you all right?"

"For now, Captain.  I've got the leader of the rebel Kilbratahr here beside me.  His name is Ula and he wants a word with you..."

Janeway listened patiently, the rest of the bridge personnel with growing incredulity, as Ula outlined what he wanted in return for Tom Paris' release.  She began to shake her head even  before the Aegesis man had finished.

"Out of the question, Ula.  I can't give you weapons."

She placed her hands on her hips and began to pace, head bowed in thought as she rapidly discarded possible solutions.  Chakotay could feel her waiting for the inevitable outburst of threats from her opponent.

"I know the Gelaheern must have told you how they don't dare give in, how they don't dare appear weak.   Well, Captain Janeway, we too must appear strong.  Tom Paris will be killed if you don't meet our demands."

"I've got a better idea," Janeway announced, stopping abruptly and turning to look Chakotay in the eye.  "Let us give you something you need just as much as weapons.  We'll give you humanitarian aid - medical technology, technology and information to vastly improve all your sciences, plus the information the you will need to learn all of this and make it work.  I'll do all of this if you release Mr Paris."

Tuvok, she noted looked about as disturbed as it was possible for a Vulcan to look.  Chakotay's face was  carefully neutral while Harry appeared to be holding his breath.  The image of Harry, passed out across the Ops console flitted across her mind and she resisted the urge to both laugh and shout 'breathe!'

 There was still no sound from Ula; no sound from Tom.

"Tom?  Lieutenant Paris!"

"This is Ula, Captain Janeway.  We accept your offer.  How shall we make the trade?"

"We have the ability to transport matter nearly anywhere we want.  I can transport the supplies down to you and Mr Paris can transport to our ship.  The trade can be made simultaneously."

 "And the small matter of trust, Captain?"

Janeway stiffen.  "You're the one holding my pilot.  How do I know you won't take what I'm offering you and kill him anyway?"

 She saw Chakotay pale and Harry flinch as they all waited for Ula's reply.

"I give you my word.  Unlike the Gelaheern, my word means much to me.  You give us this help, Tom Paris will be returned."

 "Very well.  Ula, you will have to move from your current position.  Your stronghold is protected by a mineral deposit that our transporter beam cannot penetrate.  We have a fix on Mr Paris' position but cannot transport him."

"Thank the Goddess for small favours," Ula mused.  "If it had not been for this mineral, you could have snatched Tom Paris from us?"

Janeway smiled.  "Yes.  He would have been gone long before things reached this point.  Tom?"

"Yes, Captain, I'm okay.  Ula strikes me as a man of his word.  I'll see you all soon."

"I will hold on to Tom Paris' communication device, Captain.  When you are ready, contact me.  I'll let you know where the exchange will take place then."

Janeway replied, "If you are already at the exchange site when I contact you, we will be able to tell where you are."

"A most interesting device, this little bauble."

The amusement in his voice did not escape the Captain's notice.

Once the channel had been close, she turned to face three pairs of eyes wide with shock.

"Captain, it occurs to me that perhaps the Prime Directive is applicable in this case," Tuvok said without preamble.

"They're warp capable, Tuvok.  I'd argue the Prime Directive is at best murky here."  She held the Vulcan's gaze.  "This is the perfect solution to the problem.  I was in no hurry to ask for Rafa's help.  He had only one  agenda.  Wipe the rebels out and he'd have no compunctions about killing any of us should we get in his way.  In all honesty, I'm not all that thrilled with the status quo on this planet.  The universal  translator does not translate kilbrathe as slavery but it's close enough for me.  I can't in good conscious give Ula superior weapons but in another sense, I've done just that and for me, this solves all my moral dilemmas  quite tidily."

She turned towards Chakotay as if expecting protest from him as well.  When none was forthcoming she smiled briefly, then gave the order to assemble what she had promised in exchange for Tom Paris'  life.

Janeway was worried that something would go horribly wrong at the last minute. Too many loose ends flapped about, causing her panic if she thought about them too much.  She wondered where Ula's exchange point would  be; whether it would be necessary for them to leave the stronghold completely and if it was, if they did, whether or not government troops would be waiting there to cut them down.  She did not want to imagine Io or Sef at the other end of a phaser, set to kill and pointed at Tom Paris.

But Ula's voice was calm when Voyager made contact.  Harry confirmed that there was no interference and Janeway admired his composure as he operated the  transporter beam that gave the Kilbratahr what they wanted and brought Tom Paris home.  The doctor's voice cut across the bridge seconds later announcing that Lieutenant Paris was safely aboard and apparently suffering no  ill effects from his captivity.

"Incoming transmission from Second Legate Rees, Captain," Tuvok suddenly announced.

Janeway nodded and Rees' voice filled the bridge.

 "I congratulate you on the safe return of Mr Paris, Captain Janeway."

"News travels quickly on your world, Second Legate."

"We have our sources."  Kathryn thought she could detect a touch of amusement in Rees' voice.  "We don't know exactly what you exchanged for Tom Paris' return but in time we will have that information as well."

"I'm sure.  As a matter of fact, I'm hoping that in  time, the Kilbratahr will gladly tell you themselves."

"Ever the optimist, Captain.  No matter.  It has been a most interesting experience but I am glad to see you take your leave of us.  May the God  grant you a speedy voyage home."

Janeway gave the order to break orbit.  Pablo Baytart complied quickly.  As the captain was turning towards her chair, she was privy to an exchange of slow, warm smiles between Chakotay and Kim.  She blinked but whatever she thought she had seen seemed to dissipate, leaving her wondering about the change in the atmosphere on the bridge.  She nodded to Harry.

"Mr Kim, I think Ops can function without your presence for the rest of the day.  I'm sure you can think of some way to spend the time?"

Harry flushed, much to Kathryn's amusement.  She was surprised when the young man did not bolt immediately to the lift.  Instead, he fixed Chakotay with a look that shocked her and she distinctly saw Harry take a deep, steadying breath.  Janeway felt rather than saw Chakotay shake his head ever so slightly,  causing Harry to suck his bottom lip.  Her eyebrows climbing to her hairline, Janeway turned to her second in command.  His attention snapped back to the captain but not before she could see the wild, almost pleading look he gave Harry.

Trying to reign in her surprise, the Captain said, "Commander, you look like you could use some rest.  Take the rest of the day off.  I'll have a full report ready for you tomorrow."

 "Thank you, Captain," was all Chakotay could trust himself to say.

He smiled quickly, a smile that told Janeway so much.  She watched the two men meet, Harry moving inside Chakotay's space, then head to the turbolift.

As the lift doors closed behind them, Tuvok reported, "Captain, we're receiving another message.  This one is recorded, from a Commander Io and marked for your eyes only."

 The captain stood.  "I'll take it in my ready room, Tuvok."
<><><>

After receiving a clean bill of health from the Doctor, Tom retreated to his quarters.  If he knew Kathryn Janeway,  Harry would be showing up any minute and Paris found himself anxious at the prospect of seeing his lover so soon after the peculiar events on the Aegesis homeworld.  He felt as if every nerve in his body were exposed; as if he were on sensory overload and could only lie in a dark, soundless room for a few days, not missing food, drink or company.

Memories of Io, of Ula, of Gelaheern and Kilbratahr swirled through his head.  It was a  strange connection he had made with Ula.  How the man had reminded him of Chakotay!  With the memory came, finally, the truth of the unfinished business between the commander and himself.  When he thought his  death was a distinct possibility, Paris thought of many things he wanted to say to Chakotay, whispered them to the walls of the small room where he had been held.  Rather than take his feelings into nothingness, he had  felt an overwhelming desire to release them; as if somehow, Chakotay would acquire them after Paris' death.

His heart also ached for Harry and he regretted the angry words of a few days ago that, had events gone differently, could have been his last words to his young lover.  He remembered the lost flute.  He wished it had survived the events on the Aegesis homeworld for Paris doubted he'd ever find again anything as beautiful or as appropriate for Harry.  It occurred to him as well that it would have been the perfect peace offering.

There was no flute and as the minutes passed, it seemed there would be no Harry either.  As for Chakotay, why  should he come?  Why should he think about Tom Paris at all?  In his mind's eye, he saw the commander with the captain, in her ready room, drinking coffee and dissecting the Aegesis culture.  Exchanging  looks.  Paris toed off his boots, stretched out the length of his sofa and ordered his brain to cease its futile and disturbing brooding.

When his door swished open, Paris was unsurprised.  He sensed the light from the corridor from behind closed eyelids and waited for Harry to come, press himself against him and kiss him like he meant business.

Paris yelped in surprise.  Not Harry; a different body, came down upon him.  Strangely familiar lips fastened onto his and as his hands closed around the strong arms seeking to enfold him like something fragile and precious, Tom knew instantly who held him, who nuzzled against him as if there were nothing else in the universe.  Chakotay.  Tom squeezed Chakotay against himself and remembered how it felt to hold him, to lose himself in that strength that came from the man's soul.  He thought he'd forgotten it, how it centred and steadied him.  He never thought to have it again and even now, the possibility that this strength could be his again eluded comprehension.  There was only the feel of the man and his urgent need  and Tom's need to satisfy it.

He was struggling to sit up when soft familiar lips brushed his temple and fingers he'd know anywhere tangled themselves in his curls.  Harry was kneeling beside the sofa, running long  fingers through Tom's hair. He breathed into Paris' ear, "Glad you're home, Tom."

Tom's heart pounded.  Could this be what it seemed?  He couldn't bring himself to hope and yet, here with him, stroking him, surrounding him with their love, were the two people he cared most about in the world.

"Harry," he whispered and could say no more.

Harry kissed Tom's temple and murmured endearments.  He noticed that his lover had not released Chakotay and that Chakotay had not stopped running his hands over Tom - as if the commander could not quite believe that he was there, that Tom was there, indeed, that any of this was happening.  Harry laughed.  Chakotay looked up at the sound, smiled beautifully at the two young men and, at the sight, passion, fierce and hot, erupted in Tom Paris.  Recognizing the look in those blue eyes, Harry's laugh became  a quiet chuckle.  Seeing Tom surrender to the seduction of that brilliant smile brought back recent, powerful memories to Harry.  He rubbed his cheek against the soft blond hair and admitted to himself that he could  hardly blame Tom at all.  Chakotay had begun to remove Tom's uniform, needing to feel Paris' skin beneath his hands.  Paris closed his eyes and fell back with something very much like a sob. Chakotay had pressed his face against Tom's exposed midriff, kissing the pale flesh once, then stopping there, clasping him tightly, as if he could not bear just yet to go any further.  His own eyes moist, Harry was unsurprised to see the unshed  tears clinging to the pilot's fine lashes.

They could talk later.  Right now, they needed a bed.

The journey to the bedroom took seconds, took an eternity and Harry thought he could touch the expectation in the air.  For a fleeting moment, he felt out of place as they undressed one another and he watched the other two exchange a look of pure longing.  Something clenched inside him and he understood fully:  there could  be no turning back now.  He saw what would happen; how  their hands, their fingers, their lips would connect and remember; how their bodies would come together in motion and rhythm never really forgotten.

  Reclining on Tom's bed, leaning against the headboard, Harry fondled his hard cock and watched them kiss, slowly at first, picking up speed and intensity until Tom stepped back and smiled at Chakotay before turning to Harry.  Harry opened his arms and Tom fell into them, kissing him fiercely, murmuring his gratitude against Harry's mouth.  Harry sighed with pleasure, abandoned himself to Tom's wiry strength, revelled in the feel of  skin against skin, the feel of long strong legs covered with fine hairs that teased his skin.  When the bed groaned under them, Tom turned in Harry's arms, whimpered softly as the commander rubbed himself over Paris' flushed skin.  Tom gave himself over completely to sensation as Harry lazily teased a pale nipple and Chakotay bestowed wet kisses.  The pilot's cock twitched in anticipation and Chakotay teased it with his tongue, tasting the fluid seeping from its tip before closing his mouth over Tom's hardness.   When Tom stiffened in his arms, Harry felt his own cock jump in response.   Kim moved lazily against Tom and dipped his  tongue into Paris' ear, exploring every fold and curve.  Tom shuddered and with a small, incoherent sound, threw his legs wide, tangled his fingers in Chakotay's dark hair and exploded into tiny fragments that scattered across the Void.

 Paris lay limp and dazed in Harry's arms and Chakotay and Harry smiled at each other. The commander's smile reached his eyes and Harry's breathing quickened.  A long absent calm had settled about  the man:  gone was the closed and guarded face.  It was replaced by a contentment that radiated from the commander and Harry's body, throbbing for release, responded to it.  Reaching across an as yet unmoving lieutenant, Harry stroked a strong brown arm.  There was fire instantly in Chakotay's eyes and Harry laughed softly.  Tom's eyes flew open as Chakotay leaned past him to kiss Harry thoroughly.

 "I really hope someone's going to tell me how this all started," Tom began.

"Oh we will,"  Chakotay mumbled against Harry's mouth.

 "But not now," Harry interrupted.  "There are other things I want to do."

His hand snaked between Paris and Chakotay and squeezed the commander's balls.  A fire was building in Tom's eyes as  well, Harry noted with satisfaction.  He wondered briefly about replicator rations for he did not think they would be leaving Tom's quarters that evening.  Then, Chakotay's mouth on his mouth and Tom's mouth on his cock banished further musings.
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"Now that I am calmer, I can give voice to these thoughts and somehow since you are headed away from us, never to return, it seems appropriate that you should be  the one to hear this story."

Io's voice filled the captain's ready room and she almost felt as if the Aegesis  commander were there beside her.  Kathryn replicated coffee and surrendered  herself,  sprawling with abandon, to her sofa.

"It has no end yet, this tale, though in my heart I think I know how it must end.  Let me say now, before you get excited, Kathryn," the humour was unmistakable, "it is not in my nature to be impulsive.  It is not a good trait to cultivate in Gelaheern.

"We knew of course that you would have to trade something for Tom's return.  Rafa was convinced it would be superior weapons but I suspected you would not do that.  I wasn't certain *what* you would do but I believed you believed that Gelaheern and Kilbratahr must come together.  Giving the dissidents weapons would not achieve that.  You are a clever female, Kathryn Janeway.  My government is beside itself to know what the rebel Kilbratahr now hold in their hands!

"They are clever as well.  To distract us, they arranged a big show - armed  men all around a remote mountain area.  Of course we thought this was the exchange point.  All information we had pointed to the fact that it was.  When we attacked, the rebels fought like creatures from the God's underworld and my troops were hard pressed to carry the day.  The dissidents fell back but we managed to capture one.  Kathryn, you have seen me handle Kilbratahr.  I believed I knew these people - or at  least what was important to know about them.  Though surrounded by my very best, as soon as he had an opportunity, this dissident threw himself, screaming into the weapons trained upon him.  There was no choice.  Our weapons were set to kill."

There was a pause.  Janeway heard Io sigh.

"Just a short while ago, my brother contacted me.  There has been the most inconceivable tragedy at my family home in the north.  I am trusting that in your short time with us, you have learned just enough to appreciate how this story has affected me.

"It seems that one of our most trusted Kilbratahr has killed her offspring and herself rather than let the young one go to a wealthy, powerful family on the other side of our world.  All my family is in shock and at a loss to explain this deed.  They tell me the Kilbratahr must have been slowly  losing her mind over the years.  I fear it is the only way they can cope with something so incomprehensible to them.

"If this had happened ten days ago or even yesterday, I would have agreed with them.  I know this.  But I have just come from a battle where it was made very clear to me that the Kilbratahr understand sacrificing for the greater good - something supposedly only Gelaheern can *truly* understand.  We have called them cowards for their hit and run tactics, the bombing of government buildings and installations - by the God!  We neither understand nor know anything about these people.  Kathryn, I'm beginning to think it  behooves us to learn.

"May your voyage home be speedy and untroubled."

Kathryn rested her head on the back of her sofa and smiled.
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