GRAVITAS

Title: Gravitas, 24/26
Author: Jaye (Copyright April 2003)
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 chapters 1-14 were basically the film "Gladiator" set in a 
Star Trek universe. Now it's my own invention. 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 TWENTY-FOUR

Chakotay woke in the pre-dawn stillness to an almost-forgotten sensation.

He wasn't alone.

He lay on his side, the warmth of another person radiating against his back. 
Soft breaths stirred his hair. A slim arm was firmly wrapped around his torso, 
and someone else's legs had tucked themselves into the bend of his own.

Chakotay's eyes misted as he remembered the last time he'd experienced such 
things. It was years ago, the last time he'd been on Dorvan. The last time he 
and Ro Laren had awakened together. Right before he kissed his wife and son 
good-bye and headed off to continue fighting Emperor Jean-Luc Picard's last war.

Chakotay was startled from his musings when his companion muttered incoherently 
and tightened his arm around Chakotay's chest.

Tom. Another love. Another time. The present rather than the past.

Chakotay pondered the differences in having a man share his bed. The body behind 
him was taller, extending slightly above and below the reach of Chakotay's own.

Tom was definitely hairier. The fine strands decorating his limbs tickled as 
they brushed Chakotay's skin, while the crisp fleece that painted red-gold along 
the younger man's chest and belly created a wonderful tingly friction against 
Chakotay's back with each breath.

Of course, it was also impossible to ignore Tom's morning erection poking his 
butt.

Chakotay absently ran his palm the length of Tom's forearm, stroking, while he 
took a moment to tuck the past away into a corner of his mind and heart. He 
would visit that place often, keeping those he had cherished alive in his 
thoughts for the rest of his life.

But he also had new memories to make, a new life to embark upon.

And a new love to explore. Starting now.

With a smile that held just a hint of mischief, Chakotay opened the drawer on 
the bedside table and fished around until he found a bottle of moisturizer. He 
used the creamy, unscented lotion to slick the skin of his inner thighs, then 
returned the container.

With a lift of one leg and a shift of his hips, Chakotay captured Tom's penis in 
the crease of his body. He felt the shaft slide against the crack of his ass and 
underneath his scrotum, the tip of Tom's cock teasing the sensitive skin. And he 
waited for Tom to wake.

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

Damn, he felt good. No, better than good. Fantastic.

Tom stirred and felt his dick slip a little farther into its unknown haven. 
There was warmth, and smoothness, a gentle pressure and a silky texture. All 
along the front of his body pleasant sensations sparked along his nerves. Then 
awareness clicked into acknowledgement.

Chakotay. His love, and by all indications, soon to be his lover.

His eyes flew open to see Chakotay's black hair and a bronze body pressed close 
to his.

Wonderfully, deliciously close. So close that Tom's cock was encased in 
Chakotay's warmth.

Tom's brows drew together as his higher brain functions more fully engaged. "Uh, 
Cha, is the Doc okay with this?" He gestured with the arm wrapped around 
Chakotay's frame and was distracted when his fingertips brushed against the 
other man's groin. He tentatively explored the new territory, learning texture 
and shape, becoming more confident when Chakotay moaned softly and arched into 
the touch.

Chakotay gathered his rapidly scattering wits as Tom continued his 
ministrations. "He said that I should resume my regular activities as soon as I 
could, as long as I didn't overexert myself." He wondered if Tom could hear his 
smile. "I figure sex with you will be occurring fairly regularly, and in this 
position you'll be the one responsible for most of the exertion."

Tom flexed his hips experimentally in reply, grunting at the pleasure the move 
evoked. "Have I ever mentioned just how much I admire that mind of yours?" Tom 
leaned forward to plant kisses along Chakotay's temple. "So beautifully 
efficient."

"Why, thank you," Chakotay said teasingly as he turned his head to meet Tom's 
mouth. "It's always nice to be appreciated."

Tom's rejoinder was stopped by the brush of Chakotay's lips against his own. He 
would never refuse this offer. He had sampled them before, but too briefly, too 
rarely to be satisfied.

He would never be satisfied, or more than temporarily sated. Tom hoped that for 
the rest of his days the first and final taste of the day would be this sweet 
mouth, this combination of hardness and softness the touch that greeted him in 
the morning and at night offered a tender benediction before he drifted to 
sleep.

Now he submerged himself in the mingling of their breaths, the press of their 
flesh as he slid back and forth in the cradle of Chakotay's thighs, a slow sweet 
friction burning along his nerves. He raised his hand to drift along Chakotay's 
throat and chest, across the smooth flat belly and down.

Touching another man was familiar and strange at once. Tom rolled Chakotay's 
balls in their sac, sharing what had always felt good to him. His knuckles 
brushed the tip of his own pumping cock, sending an extra thrill shooting 
through his veins. The heat, the slickness, the scent of sex drove him on. His 
fingers returned to clasp Chakotay's shaft, feeling the pulse of the thick vein 
against his palm, the stickiness of the leaking tip. Tom sensed the build toward 
climax in his core, the heat and tension in his balls that signaled the approach 
of ecstasy. He moved his hand faster, wanting Chakotay to join him in 
completion.

And still their mouths mated, sliding and shifting, never parting even as 
breaths escaped in grunts and pants as excitement rose to unbearable levels.

Chakotay's hips danced in time with his partner, forward so his cock was stroked 
by Tom's fist, back to feel the slide of the long engorged shaft between his 
thighs. He snaked one arm back, crooking his elbow and turning his forearm and 
wrist to reach up. His fingers sank into Tom's hair, enhancing the feeling of 
connection.

The lightning raced under his skin, sending sparks along his nerves to his brain 
to his balls to his cock. Deep inside his body the shockwave gathered, and in an 
instant flashed through him in a rush of joy. Chakotay gave himself over to it, 
let the pleasure take him. He groaned into Tom's mouth, his pelvis jerking as he 
spilled his seed into Tom's waiting fingers.

Tom's muffled shout mingled release and relief as he felt Chakotay shudder in 
his grip. He pressed himself even closer, arching his spine to drive his dick as 
far as he could between his lover's tawny thighs. He felt like he would never 
stop coming, that his back would break and his heart give out before his cock 
did. His head filled with light and noise and scent and taste forever and ever--
-until his body released all its tensionn at once. He sank onto the mattress, a 
boneless pile of bliss.

The men finally broke their kiss and lay unmoving beyond their heaving breaths.

Chakotay rolled to his other side to gaze at his lover. Tom's eyes were dilated, 
unfocused, staring. Dark brows drew together in worry as Chakotay reached out a 
hand to Tom's cheek, his thumb ghosting over the kiss-swollen lips. "Hey there, 
Tom, you okay?"

Tom dragged his brain back into some semblance of order as he noted the older 
man's concern. "Yeah," he wheezed, then tried again. "Yeah, Cha, I'm just...Wow. 
I mean, I know it's been a while, but...Wow."

Chakotay chuckled. "And that's just the beginner's level."

"I'm not sure I'll survive to become an expert." The twinkle in Tom's eyes faded 
as he stared at Chakotay intensely, the emotions flooding him overwhelming. 
After the longest moment, he whispered, "I've never been so afraid of anything 
as I was of losing you."

Chakotay grimaced in sympathy. His fingers slid down to twine with Tom's, 
ignoring the stickiness. "But you didn't, Tom. You did everything just right." 
He hesitated, his teeth worrying his lower lip a moment. Wondering if he should 
give voice to his own nebulous fears. Then he looked into the blue eyes so close 
and admitted quietly, "Actually, I'm more afraid of keeping you."

Tom's forehead creased in puzzlement. He turned and propped his head on his free 
hand, peering into the soulful brown gaze. "Why? I don't understand."

"Because you grew up roaming the corridors of power, Tom, in the middle of the 
hustle and bustle of the most cosmopolitan city on the most sophisticated planet 
in the known universe." Chakotay sighed. "Maybe you'll make a commitment to me 
and then someday feel I'm holding you back, tying you down. I'm afraid that 
despite your enthusiasm for blue skies and green fields, you're going to get 
bored with this little backwater world."

He looked down at their twined hands. "Or maybe you'll get bored with me. After 
all, you're younger than me, and I'm only the second lover you've ever had." He 
lifted his eyes once more. "I don't want to be 'the old ball and chain', Tom. 
Maybe you should give yourself some time to be sure this really is the life you 
want."

Tom shook his head at the absurdity of the notion and slid over until he had 
Chakotay flat on the bed and completely trapped beneath him. He captured his 
lover's hands, pressing them into the pillows. When they were nose to nose he 
spoke. "I am only going to say this once, so you'd better pay attention, Cha. 
San Francisco was nothing more than a gilded cage for me, so I'm glad to leave 
it behind. Dorvan is full of interesting people and ideas, and it's one of the 
most beautiful places I've ever seen. I can set down roots here, build a home."

Tom pressed a sudden kiss to Chakotay's mouth, sinking again into the pool of 
sensation he hated to leave. After an indulgent moment he pulled back to insist, 
"As for other lovers, who the hell else is there for me? I've dreamed of having 
you in my bed for a decade, so now that I've finally got you here don't think 
you have even the slightest chance of escaping." He could still see the worry 
tingeing the dark brown eyes, even as Chakotay responded with a small smile.

"Technically, you're in *my* bed," Chakotay pointed out as he arched into Tom's 
frame.

"Ah, but we share and share alike, so what's yours is mine." Tom's expression 
turned fierce as his grasp tightened. "The way that *you* are mine." Then his 
face softened as his eyes glittered with moisture. "And the way I'm yours. 
Believe me, Cha, there's no place in the universe I'd rather be than in your 
arms."

"I'm sorry for questioning you, Tom. Especially after you've already told me 
you're ready for this, and all that we've shared. It's just..." Chakotay 
struggled to put his emotions into words, to explain the doubts that whispered 
in his mind at odd moments. Reminding him of all those he had failed, telling 
him he didn't deserve to be loved. "To be honest, every once in a while I find 
myself feeling like everything is going to collapse around me again. That I'm 
going to end up alone. Because I really haven't earned the right to be happy."

Chakotay felt his face flush. "I'm sorry," he repeated, "I know it sounds silly, 
but I can't help it. Survivor's guilt, I guess." He lifted his head to deliver a 
tender kiss of apology. "But never doubt that I do love you, Tom Paris." His 
conviction shone in his eyes. "And I want to keep you."

In some strange way Chakotay's confession reassured Tom. Chakotay clearly 
trusted Tom---and their bond---enough to confess the doubts plaguing him. It 
also touched Tom in a way he couldn't define, to see this vulnerability in such 
a strong man.

At first he was amazed Chakotay could ever doubt himself, question his 
worthiness. Then Tom remembered wrestling with his own bouts of self-blame after 
Annika died. Chakotay had lost so much more; it would take time to lay all the 
ghosts permanently to rest. Considering that, it was no wonder the man still 
felt guilty sometimes. And uncertain of the future.

Tom gave a soft smile of understanding and released his grip, sliding to the 
side to remove most of his weight. With a sigh he nestled into Chakotay's 
welcoming embrace, resting his head on a bronze shoulder. "Then keep me close, 
Cha, because I love you too."

"I will, I promise." His momentary uncertainties soothed away, Chakotay closed 
his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of contentment as they waited for the alarm to 
ring.

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

Rosera lifted a wooden cane from the rack attached to the wall, tucking the slim 
object under her arm.

"Not that one," Anthwara said irritably from his seat on the couch. "That was a 
birthday present."

Rosera breathed in patience and exhaled her frustration. "That's the only one 
left, old man, and you know it. None of the others were 'suitable' either." She 
turned and shot an exasperated look at the white-haired Dorvan. "Why don't I 
just borrow a cane for Chakotay from someone else?"

"Why doesn't he just replicate one?" Anthwara sneered as he sipped his tea. He'd 
been surprised by his early visitor, and even more so by her request. He had a 
sneaking suspicion that Chakotay didn't even know about this loan.

"Because it wouldn't be the same," Rosera replied as she strolled over to 
reclaim her seat and her own cup of tea from the low table. She propped the cane 
next to her. "It was different when he had to use the walker to get around. But 
pretty soon he'll just need some help with balance. And it would be nice for him 
to hold something from Dorvan, from his homeworld, as he works to find it."

Anthwara's eyes narrowed. "There's more to it than that, isn't there? You know 
he'll be addressing the council today. You want him to make a good impression." 
The last was an accusation.

"Maybe." Rosera shrugged. "Or maybe I just want him to know not everyone will be 
as hostile to him as they were to his mate."

A grunt was Anthwara's only reply. Rosera tossed her hair over her shoulder and 
sipped her tea, then casually asked, "Are you going to let Chakotay do as he 
wishes with Trebus? After all, he *is* the caretaker of the land."

Anthwara scowled into his empty cup. "It's not up to me. The council makes the 
decision. After the spirits have their say."

"But your opinion carries enough weight to tip the balance in either direction." 
Rosera set down her drink and stood, pointedly picking up the cane to take with 
her. "Just remember that even if his vision of Trebus clashes with yours, you 
still share the best of intentions. Chakotay loves Dorvan as much as you do."

Anthwara simply grunted again as he watched Rosera leave. Then he continued to 
sit, staring into space, thinking of the past.

And the future.

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

"I've examined my internal logs, Chakotay, and there is no record of me 
authorizing sexual gymnastics." The EMH ran a regenerator over his patient's 
neck, easing the strained muscles. "I would have thought *you* at least would 
have shown some restraint." His eyes narrowed as he took on a suspicious air. 
"Or perhaps that's the problem---were there restraints involved?"

Chakotay looked stunned, then peered at the readings as the Doc switched back to 
a tricorder. "How in the world can you tell Tom and I had sex?"

The hologram slapped the instrument closed and set it aside. At the sight of 
Chakotay's horrified expression he relented. "I happened to see Mr. Paris on his 
way out this morning. He was glowing, yet had not taken the time for exercise. 
His lips showed definite signs of swelling, and his smile was 2.5 centimeters 
wider than typical." He paused. "The evidence was easily apparent. He obviously-
--what is the phrase?---got some."

"Oh," Chakotay replied, relieved that medical advances hadn't made the 
technology quite *that* invasive. "Well, you're right, Tom and I did...indulge a 
little. But it wasn't anything wild. I just twisted my head a bit too far, and 
didn't notice until afterward."

The Doc picked up a padd and briskly made a notation. "Actually, you seem to 
have unconsciously conducted a very useful test. Adrenaline and endorphins often 
prevent awareness of pain or stress. Then later, when the body calms, the 
muscles make their complaints known." He glanced over. "The fact that you 
experienced pleasure---" he paused to acknowledge Chakotay's nod "---and then 
were able to experience the minor pain of this neck ache without problem is a 
sign of normal response to stimuli."

Chakotay shifted on the diagnostic bed. "And the rest of the therapy seems to be 
going well. So...do you think it's safe for me to upgrade to a cane? I have to 
address the Dorvan council this afternoon, and honestly I'd rather be walking 
under mostly my own power."

The Doc tilted his head and considered. In his time since activation he had come 
to understand that a physician must take into account the patient's 
psychological, not just physical, well-being. He nodded slowly. "Yes, if you are 
careful to stay on even terrain and take your time. Oh, and that you have 
someone beside you at every step---just in case."

"Thanks, Doc." Chakotay smiled his gratitude. He knew the level of aid he used 
to approach the council wouldn't significantly alter anyone's perception, but he 
thought he'd need every advantage when facing the planetary leaders with his 
plan for Trebus. "And Tom will be with me, so I'll be fine."

"That's good to hear." The EMH made a last notation. "As for your overall 
condition, Chakotay, I believe that if your physical rehabilitation continues to 
progress at this rate, you'll soon be dispensing with my services."

Chakotay saw his opening and took it. "I've been meaning to talk to you about 
that, Doc." He kept his voice casual. "Have you thought about what you'll be 
doing once my treatment is finished?"

The EMH blinked in surprise. "I didn't think I had any say in that. I am, after 
all, simply a program originally designed to be a temporary addition to a ship's 
medical staff." He frowned as he pondered his fate. "I expect I'll be shipped 
back to Dr. Zimmerman to be incorporated into his current research matrix."

"So you'll cease to exist?" Chakotay was shocked at the hologram's equanimity at 
the idea.

"In this incarnation, yes." The Doc fingered the small case at his side that 
housed his portable emitter. "But I suppose my experiences will aid my creator 
in enhancing his next model." He wondered if he was trying to convince Chakotay, 
or himself, that this was acceptable.

"But is that what you want?" Chakotay closely watched the expressions flitting 
across the hologram's face. It was amazing that the EMH had changed so much in 
such a short time, adding nuances of personality, making friends, discovering 
his own likes and dislikes.

Though his lack of a future was horrible to contemplate, the Doc shrugged it off 
as inevitable. "What I want hardly matters. I'm Dr. Zimmerman's property." He 
raised a skeptical brow. "Unless you're planning on committing grand theft 
hologram."

"No, no, nothing like that." Chakotay caught the flash of disappointment in the 
dark eyes and realized the EMH wasn't quite as dispassionate as he sought to 
appear. "No, I was thinking more along the lines of asking Dr. Zimmerman to let 
you continue as a separate entity, to grant you citizenship in your own right." 
He warmed to the topic. "You were a copy of his research matrix, so if we 
transmit a report on the developments within your program, that should be enough 
for him to continue his work. You could stay out on the frontier."

He shrugged. "Assuming, of course, that you'd want to. The choice would be 
yours. I'm sure that there are many facilities in the core worlds that would 
welcome someone with your credentials."

"Where would I stay on Dorvan? What would I do?" The Doc wondered if this sudden 
giddy lightness was hope.

"In Trebus, if you like. There are plans to rebuild---*if* we can get the 
council's approval. This warehouse will probably become a research facility. 
You're a natural fit. And since the war there are many worlds on the borders 
needing medical help. You'd get the chance to meet a variety of different 
people---and to do a lot of good."

The Doc was overwhelmed. "I---I must admit I don't know what I want. It never 
occurred to me I had a choice." He was simply amazed. "You'd really ask 
Zimmerman to let me go?"

"Of course. You're not just a diagnostic tool. You're our friend." Chakotay slid 
off the bed and snagged his walker. "We don't want to see you decompiled." He 
laid a hand briefly on the Doc's forearm, squeezed, then began to maneuver 
himself out the door. "I'll send the request to keep you active this morning. 
You think about what you might like to do."

The Doc waved Chakotay out, then stood in the center of the room. His worldview 
shifted as he realized he might actually have a future. Maybe even a home. He 
gave a small smile.

One thing he was sure of, no matter what happened: he had friends.

After a few moments, the Doc started working again, humming a selection from a 
comic opera. One with a happy ending.

Yes, this feeling was definitely hope.

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

"Do we have room for a horse, Daddy T?" Koral asked as she stood at Tom's elbow. 
She peered at the study's computer screen, trying to decipher the blueprint 
displayed. She briskly amended her request. "Actually, just one would get 
lonely. And we can't have that. Five would be much better---six, if Tem is going 
to stay."

"I, uh, I'm not so sure about that, Koral," Tom replied as he turned to see 
three hopeful, slightly calculating faces staring back at him. "Your uncle and I 
haven't really discussed farm animals."

"But *you're* designing things," Jelene insisted, drawing out the second word to 
convey its importance. She added brightly, "Why don't you just add a stable?"

"It wouldn't have to be all *that* big." Koral hoped she sounded convincing. 
"Horses don't need much room---really."

"Yeah, Dad, we need a stable for some horses. I want to learn how to ride. All 
the other kids on Dorvan know how." Lucien's voice hadn't quite reached a whine, 
but Tom sensed it coming and moved to head it off.

"Look, kids, I'm starting the design of the house---and *it* is definitely going 
to be equine-free," Tom said firmly. "Honestly, I'm not sure if there would be 
enough space for such big animals. And they're an awful lot of work. Plus, 
Lucien and I have no idea how to take care of them. So it sounds like a long-
shot to me."

He stifled his grin, anticipating their reaction to his next words. "But it's 
not really my decision. The grounds and outbuildings are going to be Chakotay's 
department. If you want horses, you'll have to take it up with him."

As Tom predicted, the trio turned inward for a huddle, whispered comments rising 
around their closely-gathered heads. He leaned back into his chair, confident 
that he'd successfully avoided being the bad guy in this situation. He'd leave 
the refusal of hoofed residents to Chakotay.

Suddenly the children broke their circle and lined up in front of him 
expectantly.

Lucien was the spokesperson this time. His tone was eminently reasonable. "If 
you won't let us have horses, what about dogs?" he asked.

Tom knew he'd been set up when he saw the eager, pleading faces. He groaned as 
he imagined following a pack of scrambling pooches, scooper in hand. Before he 
could answer, he heard the faint clump of his rescuer's approach.

The trio broke ranks and hurried to greet Chakotay, who was carefully making his 
way to the desk using a carved wooden cane. Tom rose to meet his lover, 
assisting Chakotay into his own vacated chair and taking the cane to examine its 
workmanship. "This is really nice," he said, his fingers running along its 
polished surface.

"Rosera brought it over for me. It's one of Anthwara's spares, for when his 
ankle bothers him." Chakotay settled more comfortably into his seat and 
addressed his entourage. "So what trouble will you be getting into today?" he 
inquired, eyes twinkling.

Jelene giggled, shuffling her feet, playing with her wristband. "None. Not even 
one little bit."

Koral nodded sagely. "Yes, we're very responsible for our age, Papa C," she 
assured him.

Lucien also chimed in, despite seeing Tom roll his eyes at their statements. 
"Yeah. We're going to Lakanta's with Tem to house-sit while Lakanta's at the 
council meeting this afternoon." He added a little too casually, "One of his 
dogs is about to have puppies."

"Oh," Chakotay said in sudden understanding. He glanced at Tom and in raised 
golden eyebrows received confirmation of his suspicions. "Well, you do know not 
to go near the mother while she's getting ready to give birth, right? And to 
leave the puppies alone until Lakanta says it's okay to pet them?" He waited for 
nods from each child, then leaned forward to deliver a quick kiss to each 
forehead. "All right, then have a good time, and mind what Tem tells you."

"But we wanted to know if---" Koral started.

"Yeah, you guys had better get ready. I'm sure Tem is anxious to get over 
there." Tom seized the opportunity to end the discussion and shooed the kids out 
of the study. He chuckled as he returned to perch on the arm of Chakotay's 
chair, draping himself over the back to curl around his companion. "Whew, that 
was a close one."

Chakotay grinned. "You're right. Let's just hope there aren't too many of those 
puppies, or we're lost. If I remember correctly, the twins can be ruthless when 
they really want something."

Tom gave a mock groan. "And Lucien definitely knows persuasion is an art. Expect 
to receive essays on the benefits of pet ownership."

Chakotay carefully spun them both to face the computer screen. "Well, at least 
it was a momentary distraction. I forgot all about facing the council later." He 
looked over his shoulder. "You're still coming with me, right?"

"Of course." Tom squeezed a shoulder in reassurance. "I'll be there to catch you 
if you faint from nervousness." He grinned at Chakotay's snort. "Hey, I've had 
to stand up to them myself. They're a pretty formidable bunch."

"Agreed," Chakotay sighed. His eyes drifted absently over Tom's blueprints, then 
he blinked and focused on the computer screen. "Tom, is this the design for the 
house?"

"The first draft, yeah." He peered over Chakotay's head.

Chakotay worded his next question carefully. "And you decided that what Dorvan 
really needed was its very own castle?"

"Castle, what do you mean?" Tom started pointing out features of the design. "It 
only has twelve bedrooms---we *will* be having guests quite often, you know."

"Probably, but that many at one time? And Tom, you've set aside an entire floor 
for a library." Chakotay looked over. "I was thinking of some bookcases in a 
corner of the living room, some wing chairs and maybe a fireplace."

"But Chakotay, Lucien's inherited a *ton* of books. I don't want to see them all 
end up in storage."

"Maybe he could donate most of them---the ones with no sentimental value---to a 
town library," Chakotay suggested. "Then everyone on the planet could have the 
chance to enjoy them."

"Well, I suppose," Tom said, unconvinced.

"And you have so many storerooms." Chakotay shook his head in bewilderment as he 
switched to different views on the computer screen. "Tom, I don't think an 
entire town on Dorvan has enough stuff to fill that much space."

"If you don't like the design---" Tom started.

"No, it's not that, really." Chakotay gently urged Tom from his perch so they 
were facing each other. "I just think our house needs to blend in a little more. 
I know you're used to grand halls and chandeliered ceilings, but I don't think 
that will work here."

He shrugged. "Besides, who's going to clean it all?"

That caught Tom's attention. "Didn't you say you had servants before?"

"A few, but Tom, they weren't house servants." Chakotay gestured vaguely. "Just 
some field workers for the farm and a few business managers and accountants. And 
that was really Laren's show. She kept a vast operation running smoothly all 
year round."

He gently gathered Tom's hands in his own, seeking the uncertain blue gaze. "If 
this is what you want, that's fine." He smiled. "I honestly don't care what 
style the place is, as long as the windows can open to the sun and the breeze---
but keep out the bugs." He lifted their joined hands, sketching an arc in the 
air. "I just think we're going to spend a heck of a lot of time taking care of 
the buildings, instead of each other."

Tom rubbed his thumbs across Chakotay's knuckles, absorbing the other man's 
concerns. He thought about the structures he'd seen so far on Dorvan: not overly 
large, but open and airy. Filled with comforting, homey touches rather than 
luxurious appointments. He set aside what he was familiar with and seriously 
pondered the kind of place he wanted to come home to. What he would choose to 
build, now that he had the freedom to do so.

With a last squeeze, Tom freed himself, turned and closed the file. "I'm going 
to start fresh tomorrow morning." He answered the questions he could already see 
forming on those eminently kissable lips. "And yes, Cha, it's because I want to. 
I think I constructed these on automatic, just re-creating what I was used to."

He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "And you're right. The Imperial Palace would 
*not* look good stuck in the middle of Trebus."

"Not even on the outskirts," Chakotay confirmed. He tugged the lanky form down 
for a brief kiss. "But if that's what you really wanted, Tom, I'd build it for 
you."

"Yeah, but would you do windows?" Tom asked with a smile.

"Maybe---if you gave me the right incentive," Chakotay replied with a wicked 
grin.

"Don't start something you can't finish, mister," Tom warned. "You don't want to 
be late for the meeting."

"You're right," Chakotay sighed regretfully and let Tom help him to his feet. 
"And I think I'm going to need all my strength."

Tom handed Chakotay his cane and wrapped an arm around the broad shoulders. "And 
just a bit of luck."

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

Rosera paused outside the Doctor's office. She could hear him singing, his voice 
soaring through Italian phrases with a true exhilaration. She recognized the 
lyrics and patiently waited for him to conclude. When he did she stepped 
forward, offering a sincere round of applause. "That was wonderful."

The Doc hastily put down his equipment. He felt unaccountably flustered, despite 
the serenity that seemed to surround the Dorvan woman like a cloak. "Oh, hello, 
Rosera. I didn't hear you come in."

"I didn't want to interrupt you." She gave a small smile.

"Well, yes, that was quite considerate of you." The Doc cleared his throat---a 
useful human affectation---and asked, "Now, just what is it I can do for you? 
You're not ill, I trust."

"No, Doctor, my request is not of a medical nature." Rosera wandered the room, 
running her fingertips over consoles and padds, noting the smooth coolness of 
all of the surfaces. Finally she turned. "From your performance just now, may I 
assume that you are continuing your study of opera?"

"Yes, I would say that was rather obvious," the EMH replied with a hint of 
sarcasm, one brow rising.

"And you are also aware that Chakotay will be hosting some of his friends from 
Earth in a few weeks? They'll be going to Bajor for the elections, then coming 
here for a blessing ceremony."

"While I'm often the last to know," the Doc noted, "Chakotay has been very kind 
about 'keeping me in the loop'. So yes, I am aware of their arrival date."

"I was wondering, Doctor, if you would consider..." Rosera finished in a rush, 
"accompanying me in a small recital some evening when they're here."

"Don't you mean accompany you *to* a recital?" The Doc's forehead creased in a 
simulation of confusion.

"No, *in*. Performing together," Rosera confirmed.

"I am unfamiliar with Dorvan music, madame, but I'm aware it involves a 
substantial amount of chanting." The Doc continued emphatically, "I'm a medical 
man, not a medicine man. I don't chant."

Rosera chuckled. She liked the acerbic hologram; he certainly preferred plain 
speaking. "I shudder to imagine you trying. No, Doctor, I thought perhaps some 
duets from the more romantic operatic composers---a kind of 'Music for Lovers' 
evening."

The EMH was completely nonplussed. He asked the obvious question. "Do you sing?"

He was even more stunned when Rosera echoed back to him a few phrases from the 
piece he had just finished. As a mezzo-soprano, of course. His mouth hung open 
in shock.

Rosera chuckled again at how human this collection of light beams could appear 
at times. She reached over and closed the gaping maw. "Well?"

The Doc collected himself, and suddenly realized that there were people who 
shared his interests on this world and probably many others, even so far from 
the Federation's cultural centers. He grasped the delicate tawny hand and bowed 
over it. "I would be honored, madame."

Rosera smiled in genuine delight. Though she enjoyed the chants and songs of her 
people, she always felt a special thrill when she let loose her breath and soul 
in the lyrics of the great works of long-ago Europe.

It was difficult to find a man who was willing to join her. Especially when it 
came to performing outside the healing or spiritual circle.

But the Doctor seemed to have no qualms whatsoever about singing his head off. 
And he certainly was a perfectionist.

She gave the fingers around hers a little squeeze. This could work out very well 
indeed.

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

"Please, Kai, reconsider." The ragged edges of Kira's patience roughened her 
voice. She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, ignoring the serene 
courtyard visible through the large window of the temple office. It was a 
struggle to keep her tone respectful. "We only have your best interests and 
safety in mind."

From her seat behind a low table, Opaka could practically see the frustration 
rippling the air around the security officer. She gave a gentle smile and 
glanced toward her aide. "And you agree with our esteemed guest, Bariel?"

"Yes, Opaka." Bariel moved forward, the worry clear in his eyes. "If Wynn got to 
Jaro Essa, there's no doubt that she can find a way to reach you." He turned to 
acknowledge Kira's nod of confirmation before continuing. "Besides, your fellow 
candidate Shakaar is *increasing* his complement of guards, not dismissing 
them." He pointedly concluded, "Again."

Ignoring the rest of his statement, Opaka asked Kira, "How is Minister Jaro?"

"He'll be all right. It looks like whatever was in that preventive cocktail from 
Earth really works. At least for small exposures." Kira lips twitched. "He 
wasn't up to his usual politicking for a day or so, but his oily smile is now 
firmly back in place."

Bariel resisted the urge to grin at Kira's obvious dislike of the shady power-
broker. He walked over to sit next to his friend and fellow cleric. "Please, Kai 
Opaka. I know you want to let the people see you, know you---even touch you---
when you speak to them. But that is exactly the kind of opportunity Wynn knows 
how to take advantage of."

Unable to maintain her silence, Kira whirled and crossed to join the 
conversation. "She's an *assassin*, Kai. Not some disgruntled citizen waving a 
placard or throwing rotten fruit."

"I've never thought my performances at the podium were *that* bad," Opaka said 
dryly. She sighed and looked at her two would-be protectors. "It sets a bad 
precedent. If I'm afraid of Wynn as a candidate, how much more fearful will I be 
if I become First Minister?"

She stood, ending the discussion. "No, I will continue as I have, without 
bodyguards or taste-testers or whatever other measures will keep me from the 
people." She rested one hand on each set of stiff shoulders. "It will be all 
right. The vote is in two weeks. I'm sure I can survive on my own until then."

Opaka drifted out of the room. Bariel and Kira looked at each other, taking 
measure.

"What can we do?" Bariel asked. His face was grim.

"She's turned down all the conventional protections." Kira returned his stare. 
"It's time to get creative."

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

Odo regarded the trio of downcast Ferengi with a baleful eye. "She's a wanted 
criminal. How could you sell her a personal cloaking device?"

"It didn't work," Rom said, his tone placating. "She should never have been able 
to disappear from the sensors like that."

Quark quickly chimed in, "We gave you the frequency of the signal that was 
leaking through. Those wrinkle-nosed earring-swingers should have been able to 
pick her up easy."

Nog just stayed hunched in his seat and hoped that this brush with the law 
wouldn't prevent him from attending the Fleet Academy on Earth next semester. He 
was determined to get away from his uncle's shady schemes and put to good use 
the engineering skills he'd picked up from his father.

On some level he couldn't believe that Uncle Quark had been foolish enough to 
smuggle a personal cloak onto Bajor, even if it was a malfunctioning one. And to 
have the audacity to sell it to the planet's Public Enemy Number One...he sighed 
and wished he were anywhere else.

Odo grunted and perched on the corner of his desk. "They would have, if Wynn 
hadn't figured out a way to fix or replace the flawed equipment." He crossed his 
arms. "You're lucky Jaro survived, or you'd all be facing charges as accessories 
to murder."

"No!" Rom said as he jumped to his feet. "Nog wasn't involved in this at all. He 
shouldn't even be here." His usually hesitant voice was emphatic, his expression 
fierce with a parent's need to protect. "I insist that you make sure none of 
this goes on his record." He approached the shape-shifter. "Quark and I will 
help you, and face the penalties for selling that broken device---but Nog's 
going to be a Fleet Cadet, and I won't let you jeopardize his future."

Quark squawked and leapt up, spinning Rom to face him. "Just where do you get 
off selling me like a cheap Lobi crystal." His face darkened with anger. "Just 
who do you think is making the decisions here?"

"*I* am," Odo said, his gravelly voice ending the incipient argument between the 
brothers. "And you should be thanking Rom for giving you a chance to stay out of 
jail, Quark."

"What?" Quark sensed a shift in the dynamics of the room. Maybe they really were 
in trouble. He knew how to go with the flow, and gave a quick, conciliatory 
smile. "Of course, Constable. Anything we can do to bring the fiend to justice."

"Yes, your sense of civic responsibility is legendary," Odo replied with a 
straight face. He glanced at Rom. "What have you got for me?"

"Well," Rom began nervously, "if---if Wynn managed to get the cloak to work, 
then she's got to be using it every time she's in the city. The Bajoran security 
forces are randomly sweeping all the neighborhoods."

"Yes..." Odo prompted.

Rom gulped. "Then she must be using a lot of energy. She'll have to replace the 
power cells pretty often." He shrugged. "Not many people carry replacements that 
size."

Odo turned to Quark. "And would you, by any chance, be one of those people?"

"Uh, why yes, we do happen to have a small number of them in stock." Quark 
smoothed his vest into place. "Perhaps I should return to Bajor to see if Wynn 
wants to do a little more business."

"Perhaps you should," Odo agreed. He stood and looked at the silent young man in 
the back of the room. "Nog, you're free to go. Rom, go get the power cells." He 
looked at Quark. "You and I need to have a little discussion."

As the two Ferengi hurried out they glanced back at their kinsman, hoping the 
next time they saw him it wouldn't be on the other side of a brig forcefield.

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

Wynn smiled to herself as she adjusted her vedek's robes. The flowing garments 
concealed her stash of poison, and the device keeping it---and her---from 
registering on security sensors.

She tapped a button on the public comm panel, sending a coded transmission to 
Jaro's private terminal. She figured he'd be more receptive to her calls now.

It had been easy enough to slip a small dose of Cardassian toxin into his wine 
at the fund-raiser a few nights ago. She'd been well-trained in stealth 
operations. No one had noticed her enter or leave.

The taunting note she'd left on the desk in his mansion let him know he'd been 
volunteered to test the poison's effect on Bajorans. She had only given him a 
small taste of the agony that awaited those who crossed her. The effect was 
diminished further by the dose of Federation anti-toxin Jaro had apparently been 
given the week before.

No matter. It had been enough to give Jaro the illusion of martyrdom, giving him 
a boost at the polls. And to warn the politico that she was not someone to be 
trifled with.

The lines on Wynn's face deepened as she considered her lost dreams of a place 
among Bajor's elite. She was a wanted woman now, so any kind of career in the 
public eye was forever gone.

But still possible was a well-hidden life of luxury on some other world. As long 
as Jaro came through with the latinum for ending the lives of his rivals for the 
title of First Minister. She was going to throw in a few Federation---her teeth 
gritted at the thought of their smug human faces---victims for free. That would 
effectively put an end to any hope of Bajor joining the Federation.

She straightened her shoulders and began to make her way out of the city, 
contemplating her plans.

For if Jaro didn't pay, he would be the first one she sent to the grave.

TBC