GRAVITAS

Title: Gravitas, 10/26
Author: Jaye (Copyright August 2002)
Codes: VOY/TNG/DS9 Many Pairings NC-17

Disclaimer: Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property 
of Paramount. Gladiator belongs to Dreamworks SKG and Universal. No infringement 
is intended or profit made. This is NC-17 for adult themes, violence and sex. If 
you aren't interested (or aren't old enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a note first so I know where it's going. Please keep the text 
(especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure but be kind, or at least constructive. E-mail is 
reader8901@fastmail.fm

Summary: Treachery raises the stakes and changes lives when the leader of the 
Terran Empire seeks to restore the Federation.

Note: Very AU, as this is basically the plot of the film "Gladiator" set in a 
Star Trek universe. Some scenes and dialogue closely mirror the film (though 
it's starting to drift away from the exact plot). No Maquis, no Delta Quadrant, 
etc. This is my response to Polly's Cha!Club challenge about movies. Sisko is 
older here than in canon.

***************

CHAPTER TEN

Kathryn Janeway's mouth was set in a grim line as she entered the Colosseum and 
proceeded to the box set aside for Council members. She did not want to be here. 
She had never traveled to other planets to attend gladiatorial games. She 
detested the waste of life. Nor had she been to Julian Bashir Picard's seemingly 
endless orgy of violence. Until today.

It was all Geordi's doing. He had commed yesterday to describe a most unusual 
event within these walls. And the man at the heart of it. He was convinced that 
the sudden reappearance of Admiral Chakotay was the opportunity they'd been 
waiting for. That he was the leader who could bring about the overthrow of the 
Emperor's corrupt regime.

Kathryn, of course, dismissed her co-Councilor as a wide-eyed dreamer. But then 
she'd seen the news footage. First the unprecedented combat, then the 
confrontation between Chakotay and the Emperor. And lastly, the reaction of the 
spectators, whose wild approval was matched by the viewing audience, according 
to the polls. All the evidence had combined to convince her she needed to see 
this gladiator for herself.

She settled into her seat, nodding at Geordi and a few other friends.

Shelby stood and addressed the newcomer from her seat in the front row of the 
box. "Councilor Janeway, I don't think I've ever seen you here before. I thought 
you didn't like to rub elbows with this vulgar crowd."

"I may not always be a woman of the people, Elizabeth," came the cool reply, 
"but rest assured I am always a woman *for* the people."

The other Councilors laughed as Shelby quickly sat back down.

***************

There had already been several bouts that day. The audience was primed, hyped by 
the many colors of blood already spilled on the Colosseum floor. But they wanted 
their champion. Soon the chant began. "Chakotay! Chakotay! Chakotay!"

No one was cheering the Emperor as he entered and made his way to the Imperial 
box. Inside he seethed, but Julian kept his face serene as he took his seat. 
Greg, Tom, and Lucien followed and also made their way to their places.

Data waited for the signal, then began his spiel. "For many decades, the 
Colosseum and indeed the whole planet Earth were denied the thrill of seeing 
gladiatorial games firsthand. And yet, that did not diminish the power of their 
spectacle or the proof of their enduring popularity. Heroes were born of these 
offworld games. One man in particular. His name became synonymous with 
gladiators, combat, and victory. He retired undefeated five years ago, 
universally praised and applauded. Now he returns to fight in this storied arena 
for the first time. Your Emperor, Julian Bashir Picard, gives you---the 
legendary Worf of Klingon!"

The crowd went wild. This was a warrior whose reputation was unmatched.

The tall, muscular fighter burst through a gate riding in an ornate horse-drawn 
chariot. He was dressed head to toe in silver armor fashioned into snarling 
animal faces. He accepted the roar of applause as his due as he circled the 
Colosseum. His helmet, which held the image of a tiger, glinted in the light. He 
carried a sword as well as a battle axe with a handle as thick as his wrist. The 
broad side of the head held a razor-sharp edge, while the other side narrowed to 
a wickedly sharp point.

Data waited until Worf's conveyance had dropped him off in the center of the 
floor and departed. Then his voice rang forth again. "And from the frontier 
planet Dorvan V, the Emperor presents, the warrior Chakotay!"

***************

Will couldn't believe his ears. He barely believed his eyes as he saw his old 
friend stride through another gate. Chakotay was dressed in his usual tunic, 
this time with a breast- and backplate added to offer some protection. He 
carried a sword and a small round shield.

Harry gripped Riker's arm. "I told you, sir," he hissed excitedly, then joined 
the thunderous applause shredding the air as the crowd lauded their champion.

That recognition and joy was echoed by every member of the Fleet secreted in the 
stands.

Tasha Yar dropped into the seat on Will's other side. She surreptitiously passed 
him a padd. "I've done recon on the security arrangements both here and at 
Sisko's compound. They're both locked down tight."

"Damn," Will muttered as he confirmed his tactical officer's assessment. "It 
looks like the only way we'll be able to make contact is in the three blocks 
from one place to the other."

"Yes, but there's also the risk of being recognized if Chakotay is under 
surveillance. A former Admiral having a chat with the Enterprise Captain isn't 
likely to be overlooked."

"I'll go," Harry piped up. "I can slip out as soon as the match ends and wait 
for him on the street."

"That could work," Tasha seconded. "He'll look just like any other starry-eyed 
fan." She grinned at Harry's blush.

Will also smiled as he nodded his approval. "All right. Let Chakotay know that 
we're here and what we're doing."

Arrangements made, they settled back in their seats and returned to watching the 
events on the arena floor.

***************

Julian's cheek twitched as he worked to hide his true reaction to Chakotay's 
popularity. Even Lucien was ignoring him. "The rabble embrace him as one of 
their own," he said, trying not to snarl.

Tom gave him a careful look. "The people are fickle, sire. He will be forgotten 
in a month."

Julian's smile was pleased but not pleasant. "Oh, much sooner than that." His 
voice dripped oily anticipation.

Tom raised his brows, hoping his face hadn't paled too noticeably.

Julian met his brother-in-law's stare. "It's all been arranged."

Tom tried to swallow his fear and turned back to the fighters.

***************

Worf regarded his opponent as the bronze-skinned man approached. His eyes 
narrowed. This fighter was a good 8 or 9 centimeters shorter and, while well-
built, clearly just a human.

The Klingon had been impressed by the reports of Chakotay's fighting skills. 
That respect increased when he recalled the man's military history and fairness 
toward his enemies. Clearly this admiral-turned-slave possessed both honor and 
integrity. He would regret killing such a fine warrior.

But kill him Worf would. He had no choice if he wished to return to his wife, 
K'Ehleyr, and their son. The Emperor's "invitation" to fight in the Colosseum 
was bluntly worded. This was a battle to the death. Worf gripped his weapons.

***************

The hair on the back of Chakotay's neck rose as he surveyed this legend of the 
arena. He knew there had to be more to the setup. As formidable as Worf 
appeared, Chakotay doubted Julian would trust his enemy's destruction to a 
single gladiator.

He watched as Worf turned to the Imperial box, raised his axe and shouted, "We 
who are about to die salute you!" Chakotay simply pressed a hand to the bag of 
Dorvan soil around his neck, then tucked it back out of sight. He turned to face 
Worf, his senses stretched to the limit to try and discover the hidden danger 
before it overtook him.

***************

Worf lowered the faceplate on his helmet, leaving only his eyes visible. He 
immediately lunged at Chakotay, battle axe sketching a wide arc toward the 
human's head.

Chakotay immediately lifted his shield, bracing for the shock as the Klingon's 
heavy weapon smashed against it. He thrust his sword, only to have it cross with 
Worf's own.

They began sparring in earnest, the complex combination of strikes and parries 
too fast to see as more than flashes of metal. Despite the size difference, it 
was clear these two fierce warriors were evenly matched.

Chakotay heard a strange sound just as he blocked another swing from Worf's 
battle axe. The power behind the blow forced him back a step. As he was 
recovering and readying his own counterstrike there was a burst of movement 
behind him.

A huge Bengal tiger leapt from a newly opened hole in the floor, its claws 
raking down Chakotay's backplate.

Chakotay immediately threw himself away from this new threat, rolling to his 
feet with shield and sword ready to fend off the animal. Instead, he saw it 
snarling and slashing a few meters away. A thick collar around its neck held a 
chain that disappeared into the shadows below the floor.

Worf took advantage of his foe's temporary loss of focus, slashing fiercely with 
his sword. He tried to drive Chakotay back toward the tiger, but instead the 
human shifted and renewed his own attack. The two fighters were now headed in a 
completely new direction.

The next series of blows put Chakotay at the corner opposite the tiger. Another 
hole opened, and a second beast came flying out. He spun and jumped to the left, 
avoiding the teeth and claws.

Two more holes opened quickly. Soon four chained tigers paced the Colosseum 
floor. It was obvious that someone was controlling the length of the chains, for 
the ferocious beasts were pulled back if Worf drew near. The chains were 
extended again if Chakotay showed signs of being driven toward one of the 
corners.

Worf kept looking for a weakness in Chakotay's defenses. He disliked the unequal 
odds, now 5 against 1, but there was nothing he could do. He had no control over 
or even prior knowledge of this extra source of peril. But the tigers were now 
weapons in his arsenal and he intended to take full advantage of them.

***************

The crowd's sounds were a mix of protest and excitement. Here, indeed, was a 
David-and-Goliath battle done with style. They avidly watched the living legend 
Worf clash with newly minted champion Chakotay. Worf's size and weapon 
advantages, the tigers, the sheer improbability of Chakotay's survival, sparked 
their interest like nothing before.

***************

Tom's hands were clenched as his eyes stayed glued to Chakotay, who now had a 
much smaller space to maneuver in thanks to Julian's "arrangements". Fortunately 
Tom's fists were hidden since his arms were clasping Lucien. The boy had 
practically crawled into his lap as it became clear his hero wasn't likely to 
survive this combat.

Julian relaxed into his seat. Now he only had to wait to see if man or beast 
delivered the death blow to his enemy.

Greg swallowed down his horror as he realized that the Emperor had planned the 
bout in order to kill Chakotay without getting his Imperial hands dirty.

***************

Tasha, Will and Harry unconsciously gripped each other's arms, willing luck and 
strength and skill to their imperiled friend.

***************

Geordi and Kathryn leaned forward in their seats, hoping all of their half-
formed plans wouldn't be ended by a slash of sharp steel or claw.

***************

Both Worf and Chakotay were becoming winded as the combat continued. Chakotay 
was constantly in motion, avoiding the tigers and the warrior with adrenaline-
enhanced skill. He whirled like a dervish, never in the same place for more than 
a breath or two.

Worf swung his battle-axe with a shout, once more seeking to cut Chakotay's 
throat. He was stunned when the smaller man suddenly charged him, shield 
slamming squarely into Worf's chest. He went down, winded, and stared at the 
sword blade resting against his throat.

Chakotay simply stood a moment, reluctant to end this opponent's life. In that 
instant the full extent of Julian's treachery was revealed.

The collar unlocked around the nearest tiger's neck. The enraged animal sprang 
at its prey with a roar.

Chakotay barely had time to turn and raise his shield. The tiger's full weight--
-at least twice his own---crashed into hhim, slamming his body to the arena 
floor. As he fell he desperately raised his sword. The beast impaled itself on 
the length of steel, but it kept slashing at Chakotay's breastplate and shield 
even as its lifeblood spilled out.

Worf got to his feet and retrieved his weapons. He planned to behead the human 
while he was trapped under the heavy animal's carcass.

Even as he struggled to get out from under the dead tiger, Chakotay knew he'd 
never be free in time to stop Worf's assault. He wrenched his arms and his 
shield loose, then desperately hurled the shield toward his opponent like a 
frisbee.

The unexpected gambit paid off. The disc slammed into Worf's faceplate, denting 
it and nearly breaking his nose. The deformed metal's eyeholes no longer lined 
up, leaving him temporarily blind. Worf dropped his battle axe and started 
tugging at the mask and helmet, trying to tear it off.

Chakotay finally pushed the tiger off his pelvis and legs. He stretched and 
grabbed the battle axe. He swung the pick end down, piercing the Klingon's foot 
to pin him to the floor.

Worf's bellow of pain was cut short as he felt Chakotay's body slam into him 
once more, tumbling him to the floor. His sword was taken. He was trapped. Any 
tigers that were released now would go after him, the bleeding, immobile prey. 
Not that they were interested any longer. The first cat's death seemed to have 
subdued them. They lay submissively on the Colosseum floor.

Chakotay used his legs to pin Worf's arms and chest as he finished removing the 
bigger man's helmet. He stared into the warrior's eyes a moment, then stood and 
again placed his blade at Worf's neck. He looked to the Imperial box.

***************

Julian, like everyone else in the arena, sat stunned. He stared at victory 
snatched literally from the jaws of certain death. His mind refused to accept 
the fact that Chakotay still breathed.

Finally the Emperor composed himself and walked to the edge of the box. He 
looked out over the expectant spectators and decided someone would pay for his 
disappointment. He extended his arm. Thumb down.

***************

Chakotay raised his sword high, as if to bring it smashing down on his 
opponent's vulnerable throat. Instead, at the apex of the arc he suddenly 
stopped and dropped the weapon to the floor. He leaned over and freed Worf's 
foot, then reached out a hand to help the wounded man to stand.

***************

The crowd stared incredulously a moment at this act of defiance. The legendary 
warrior Worf had been spared not by the Emperor, but by the man he had sought to 
kill. The mercy of the gesture inspired a greater ovation than any the Colosseum 
had ever heard. And for the first time, hidden in the calls of acclaim for 
Chakotay were shouts of anger at Julian.

Kathryn kept her eyes and ears open as she watched the spectacle unfold in the 
arena stands. This was almost as exciting as the match itself, and much more 
encouraging.

***************

Lucien was shouting and clapping, squirming in his father's embrace. "He won! He 
won! Chakotay's all right!" The boy's eyes grew round. "He beat Worf," he said 
in awe.

Tom hid his relief, pressing his face into his son's hair. "Yes he did, Lucien. 
Yes he did," was all he could murmur. He barely noticed when Julian and Greg 
left the box.

***************

Will's voice was hoarse from shouting, but Tasha was still going strong beside 
him. He turned to Harry. "You'd better get going. You only have three blocks to 
work with and I guarantee the street will be packed."

Harry nodded. His relief at Chakotay's survival had been too great for words. He 
needed to save his voice for more important and personal communication. He got 
up and scurried out.

***************

Worf slowly lifted his fingers to clasp Chakotay's. As he was pulled upright his 
eyes questioned the mercy he had found at his foe's hands---which defied the 
Emperor's decree of death. "Why?" he asked. "You've killed enough men before 
today."

Chakotay shrugged and released the alien when he was upright. "You won your 
freedom years ago. Julian had no right to force you into this. You shouldn't be 
here, so you shouldn't die here."

"Neither should you," Worf replied. He offered his hand. "You are a man of 
honor, Chakotay. It has been an privilege to meet you."

"And you, Worf of Klingon." Chakotay shook the meaty palm. "May you return there 
soon."

Then the two exhausted fighters headed toward an open gate. Suddenly the door in 
the black marble wall parted and Guards came pouring out. Phasers drawn, they 
surrounded the two men. Two holstered their weapons and took charge of a limping 
Worf, leading him away. Chakotay could only hope he was being taken to a doctor, 
and then to board a ship back to his homeworld.

Then Chakotay straightened as he saw Julian approach. He cursed his lack of a 
weapon as the Emperor glided between his Guards and stopped before the champion 
gladiator.

"What am I going to do with you?" Julian asked tightly. "You simply refuse to 
die."

Chakotay said nothing. They stared at each other in silence.

Then Julian held out his hand. "I offer you my hand once more, Chakotay." His 
eyes savored the muscular form, acknowledging its power and rugged appeal. "Join 
me. We could make a most formidable team."

Ignoring the offer, Chakotay simply continued to gaze at Julian in disgust and 
anger.

"Are we so different?" Julian challenged him. "You take life without hesitation 
when you have to. The same as I."

"I have only one more life to take, and then it will be done," was the quiet 
reply.

Julian's eyes gleamed. "Then take it now," he dared.

Chakotay knew that it was a bluff. The second he moved toward the Emperor the 
Guards would phaser him out of existence. He turned and walked away.

"They tell me," Julian said casually, examining his nails, "that your son 
squealed like a stuck pig as they charred his body to ash."

Chakotay stopped and whirled, visibly struggling for control.

Julian continued, "And your wife, she offered her body like a whore to save her 
hide. Of course, my men refused. They burned her slowly, inch by inch while she 
screamed and cursed your name with her dying breath."

The Guards tightened their holds on their phasers, waiting for the gladiator to 
spring. Many of them were sickened by the Emperor's goading of the valiant 
slave. Greg's mouth was a thin slash in his pale face.

Chakotay's whole body trembled as he clenched his hands and reached for some 
remnant of calm. His voice was like gravel as he rasped, "Your vile reign will 
soon be at an end. Justice will be done." Then he turned his back on the Emperor 
once more. The Guards parted before him automatically as he walked away.

***************

The crowd began chanting Chakotay's name again. But this time they also openly 
booed and derided the Emperor.

Julian turned and quickly left the Colosseum, fury stamped clearly on his face.

Kathryn was stunned. Any of these people could be sold into slavery for such 
defiance. Yet they dared it, in support of one very special man. She looked at 
Geordi and nodded. Hope had arrived strong and determined in the somber form of 
Admiral Chakotay.

Tom watched the people cheering in the stands. He nodded to himself, satisfied.

***************

Stripped of his armor and again wearing a collar, Chakotay and Sisko's other 
gladiators stepped into the street to begin their three-block walk to the 
compound. He, as always, ignored the fans trying to get past the guards to touch 
their idols.

Harry watched the men and women emerge. When he caught sight of Chakotay, he 
yelled, "Admiral!" waving his arm up and down, rather than side to side. He was 
hoping the discrepancy would catch Chakotay's attention in the seething mass of 
bodies lining the way.

It was Tuvok who actually noticed the young man behaving oddly and yelling 
Chakotay's title rather than his name. He touched his fellow warrior's arm. "I 
believe that man is trying to contact you."

Chakotay focused and immediately recognized his former aide. "Thank you," he 
murmured to Tuvok, then drifted to the edge of the group of gladiators. He began 
shaking the hands thrust out to him, slowing the pace. "Harry," he called, "Are 
you all right? Why are you on Earth?"

Harry quickly approached and fell into step with the fighters. "The Enterprise 
is in the Sol system for upgrades. Captain Riker's gathered the whole crew." He 
met his former CO's stunned gaze with a determined one of his own. "We're going 
to rescue you, sir."

Chakotay's tactical mind added this new factor and raced through a multitude of 
possibilities. "Harry, does Will know who the other ships will support if it 
comes to a fight?"

"I think he's been sounding out the other captains. So far we're solidly behind 
you." Harry's expression sobered. "We've all seen what the Empire's become."

"Harry, listen. You have to do some things for me. Tell Will not to take any 
action until he's contacted, either by me or by my messenger. I'll give them a 
password that only he'll know. You also have to get in touch with Tom Paris, the 
Emperor's brother-in-law." Chakotay's eyes held a new light. "Tell him I will 
meet his politician."

Harry felt hope swell in his chest. He nodded, "Aye, sir. You can count on me."

Chakotay laid a hand on his shoulder for a moment with a hint of a smile. "I 
know I can. Good luck, Ensign."

Harry quickly shoved a tiny bundle into Chakotay's free hand and dashed off to 
begin implementing his new orders.

Chakotay hid the bit of cloth in his fist as he returned to his spot beside 
Tuvok and B'Elanna.

"Good news?" the Vulcan asked, raising a brow.

"Maybe," Chakotay answered, his mind elsewhere. "Just maybe."

They soon reached the compound. The crowd scattered as the gladiators were once 
more secured behind Sisko's walls and forcefields. Chakotay stood a moment as 
his collar was removed, then strode swiftly across the expanse. He had been 
given free rein of the garden, so he walked to a small bench half-hidden behind 
a bower. He sat and opened the bundle Harry had given him. His breath caught as 
he carefully lifted out the object within.

It was the braid of hair from his medicine bundle. He stroked the intertwined 
strands of black, recalling how it came to be.

Chakotay and Laren had been married for seven weeks when it was time for him to 
return to the Fleet. He'd let his hair grow while on a six-month extended leave, 
and he needed it cut before going back to his post. On the night before he was 
to depart, Ro had done the job. She sat him in a kitchen chair in their newly 
finished house and paused a moment, considering the task. She had started 
slicing the strands with a knife in the ancient way, and she set the first lock 
aside. It had been a quiet time, soft murmurs and the snick of steel. Eventually 
Laren had finished up with a laser. She stood back to examine her handiwork, 
meeting her husband's eyes with a wry smile. "You look like you just stepped off 
the transport, Fleeter" she said, stroking her fingers through the now-short, 
silky strands.

"Not quite," Chakotay replied, encircling her waist and drawing her to stand 
between his knees. "No tattoo then, remember?"

"Hmmm," was all Laren said, the chains of her earring swinging as she bent to 
take her husband's lips. They kissed for long minutes, enjoying the warmth and 
flavor of their union.

Then Laren leaned over and picked up the knife again. She took a lock of her own 
midnight hair and cut it off, ignoring Chakotay's startled gaze. Then she handed 
him one end of each group of gathered strands. "Hold these."

Chakotay did as he was asked, gripping one lock in each hand. He watched as 
Laren quickly plaited them together, knotting first one end and then reclaiming 
the other to do the same.

When she was done, she placed the hair in his palm and curled his fingers around 
it. "There, now you'll have something to remember us by."

Chakotay gave her a fond smile as he ran a fingertip down her nose ridges. "I 
have no intention of forgetting you."

"Good," Laren said, and pulled Chakotay up to lead him to bed for a proper good-
bye.

In Sisko's garden the fountains played and the bees droned as Chakotay sighed 
and ran the locks through his fingers. Some years later, when his son's hair was 
to be cut for the first time, Laren again saved some strands to weave with 
theirs, creating the braid he now held in his hands. Harry must have rescued it 
from the medicine bundle in his quarters on Voyager.

Eyes blurred with tears and soul overwhelmed with emotion, Chakotay clutched the 
gift in his hand. He pressed the fist to his chest, feeling his heart beat once 
more.

************************************************************

Julian paced the length of his office, his mind conjuring and discarding plans. 
"I cannot take control if I am not loved," he said, not stopping his agitated 
movements. "They loved Chakotay for his bravery, and now for his mercy. So I 
cannot simply have him phasered out of existence or I will seem even more 
unmerciful. He crosses me at every turn!"

"He is defying you," Shelby agreed as she watched the Emperor. "His every act, 
his every victory strengthens his position. The mob sees it---and so does the 
Council. You can be sure they'll use this to their advantage. Then it will be 
more than just jeering in the Colosseum, sire. It will be outright rebellion." 
She insisted, "You must assassinate him."

"No!" Julian snapped. "I will not make a martyr of Chakotay. He must die as any 
slave, in the arena."

He flung himself into the chair across from Shelby. "But I will act to secure my 
rule. This is the perfect time to identify my opponents." His gaze grew 
thoughtful. "There is a certain Denebian snake I have heard of. It will lie on 
the ocean floor as if it were wounded. An enemy comes and takes a bite of it, 
and it does nothing. Others approach for their share, and still it does not 
strike." His face hardened. "Until all of its enemies are exposed."

Shelby eyes narrowed in understanding. "So you will lie still, and let your 
enemies come for a nibble."

Julian nodded, then dismissed the Councilor with a wave. When the blonde was out 
of sight, he beckoned. "Approach," he ordered.

Seska hurried over and knelt, "What is your command, sire?"

"Have every Councilor followed. Assign whomever you wish. I want daily reports."

"All of them, sire? Even Shelby and the rest of your allies?" Her agile mind 
organized resources and assignments, even as she allowed a puzzled expression to 
cross her face.

"Yes, my dear Seska. All of them." Julian stroked her sharp chin with a 
forefinger. "Why trust when you can have proof of loyalty?" His eyes glittered 
down at her. "Or treachery."

TBC