Reanla didn't realize until much later how literal the on fire feeling was until she heard a shout, then something soft and heavy land atop her. With it, the agony faded to a slight degree and she and Raduen were pulled to their feet and led into a smaller chamber that she recognized as being someone's personal office. Raduen had a bruise swelling his cheek where she'd thrown him down, but seemed otherwise unharmed. The horror in his eyes and the grim look of the glinn who'd pulled them up proved that she was not so fortunate.

"We must have a medic look at you, Colonel," the glinn ordered. Reanla wanted to refuse, but her body wouldn't stand for that. Raduen very gently supported her by one arm, not daring to touch her back.

"Colonel!" Ilario Cheyne appeared out of the smoky haze, her sweet face marred by a nasty head wound that left a smear of blood from her hairline to her temple. "Prophets, your back is scorched! We need to get you a medic!" As if Ilario's words were prophetic, a Cardassian medic was the next to enter the room. Reanla vaguely recognized her from Kerok Nor--she'd been on Lorok's staff.

"Lieutenant, I will thank you to sit still so that I may fix your head wound," the medic said coolly.

"Tend the Colonel first," Ilario insisted. "Half her back is burned."

The medic raised an eyeridge and circled around Reanla with her tricorder. "Several first and second-degree burns. This may take a few minutes...."

Outside, the firefight could still be heard, but the phaser shots were fewer and farther between. As soon as the medic had finished healing Reanla's burns and Ilario's cut, as well as determining that Ilario had no cranial trauma, she immediately moved to tend the injured soldier who had been brought in after the two Bajorans.

"Lieutenant, has everyone been accounted for?"

Ilario grimaced worriedly. "The admiral...."

Reanla never got to hear the rest of what Ilario was saying. She bolted from the room back into the council hall. The phaser fire had ended and, at the far end, she could hear shouting as the few remaining live protestors were being taken into custody. Some of the smoke was beginning to clear, but it was still difficult to see. "Kathryn!" She checked in every possible sheltering place--behind the dais, beneath it, around every piece of debris large enough to hide. Prophets, this is not happening on my watch--this is not happening on my watch!! "KATHRYN!!"

By this time, Raduen had joined her, saying that Tinalo was missing as well. Refusing to believe that her friend was missing, Reanla went over every centimeter of the council chamber, looking all the places she'd looked before, hoping against hope she'd find Kathryn in one of them....

"Colonel." Gul Derrak appeared out of the haze, flanked by two of his guards.

"Gul, no disrespect, but I don't have the time right now--"

"I am afraid Glinn Roncet has discovered something--disturbing." The glinn who had pulled Reanla and Raduen to safety stepped forward.

"While scanning for survivors, I found traces of a transport made from behind the near end of the dais." Roncet indicated with a nod towards the now-battered council table. "It indicates three traces of DNA--Bajoran, Cardassian, and human. It appears that Mr. Raduen's aide and Admiral Janeway were abducted."

Reanla felt an icy chill sweep through her. The very thing she'd feared had occurred.

Roncet was still talking. "-- no doubt the reason for what has occurred here--the suicide bomber's attempt to kill everyone in this room notwithstanding. A distraction, giving ample time for another of the protestors to get his or her hands on a valuable hostage--in this case, two. The fact that Tinalo Lasair and Admiral Janeway are the hostages is quite likely happenstance. It was whomever the kidnapper could reach first."

"Have you traced the transport??" Raduen demanded.

"Already done," Roncet said with a nod. "But whomever was behind this masked their destination. Every time a trace is attempted, we get scattered readings."

"So they could be anywhere in the city?" Raduen's voice was laced with dread.

"Or on the continent," Roncet finished.

Reanla exchanged a glance with Raduen and knew that what she saw in his eyes was no doubt what he saw in hers--the sickening certainty that the search that lay ahead could end badly.

**

Cold eyes observed the body lying on the table. The admiral was now shackled there, still unconscious. But he would remedy that soon enough. His eyes traveled over her bloated form, seeing a faint ripple in the belly area as one of the children within moved. They were active little spawn, indeed. Every time he'd touched a hand to the belly bulge, one of them had answered with a kick or thump. He'd noticed these movements had increased slightly after he'd given her the nutrient shot after the eight-hour mark had passed. Now the tenth hour had arrived and he was prepared to begin. Picking up the hypo, he keyed in the dosage and pressed it lightly against the pale skin of her neck. Almost immediately after the faint hiss, she let out a murmur, shifting her head. She was coming to immediately. Good. He was more than ready to begin.

Time seemed to completely cease to exist when you were unconscious. Kathryn blinked several times, trying to clear the fog from her brain and focus. Lights blinded her and forced her to keep her eyes closed until they adjusted to the brightness behind the lids. She tried to move her hands to rub the sting from her eyes and realized she couldn’t. She tried to kick her legs outward and realized she was bound. Light or no light, her eyes snapped open and she found herself staring up into the menacing grin of Tinalo. Fear prickled beneath her skin and his eyes spoke volumes about his intentions.

"Nice of you to join me, Admiral," he smirked. "Oh, don't worry. I've taken the liberty of making sure no one will disturb us for quite some time--if at all. We're in one of the emergency bunkers attached to a former legate's estate. The legate, sadly, was one of the eight hundred thousand casualties of the Jem'hadar, as was most of his family. I believe he had one surviving son who is a galt in a squadron stationed on the far end of the continent. So, you see, no one will disturb us."

"What do you want?"

"What do I want?" He set the hypo down on a table that was shrouded in shadow and picked up another object, moving to stand half in shadow himself. He watched Kathryn turn to try and look at him, but knew from where he stood, she could only see him out of the corner of her eye. He reveled in the panic that flitted through her fathomless blue eyes. "There are many things I want. However, quite a few of those are things I cannot have. Dealing with you will not gain me those things, but it will bring me extreme satisfaction in exchange--which I can live with."

Kathryn strained her eyes to see what he was up to. She was torn between her training as a Starfleet admiral and being an expectant mother. An admiral did not succumb to torture, as she had learned from her experience on Cardassia with Admiral Paris. However, as a mother, she was willing to do anything so long as it meant the safety of her babies. She could not see what he was doing and she couldn’t crane her neck any further. Her eyes hurt from the strain of trying to look at him. “Tinalo, what are you going....”

"And you can stop calling me by that ridiculous Bajoran name, by the way. My name is actually Kalaim."

"But isn't that a--"

"Cardassian name? Precisely." Kalaim grinned at the shock written on the human's face. "I was wondering when you would figure that out. You Federations always brag about Starfleet producing the 'best and brightest' officers, yet it amazes me how stupid you lot can be." He moved into the light at last, revealing the object he held to be a laser scalpel. A flick of his thumb turned it on and a predatory glint filled his eyes. "Oh, I'll give you credit for noticing my slip when I questioned you about that Maquis you've been whoring yourself for--running to Colonel Reanla and Aredat with your suspicions. Aredat even asked me if I had a problem with the Federation's involvement in these talks. Saving you from that tumble you almost took and my little tantrum wasn't in the plans--but it certainly was convenient."

“Do you have a vendetta against the Federation or is it just me, personally?” Kathryn asked as he alternated between firing the laser scalpel and turning it off again. It seemed to amuse him to watch the little tool's display of power. She still couldn’t figure out what his motivation was for abducting just her instead of holding the entire conference hostage.

"You flatter yourself, Admiral. You weren't my intended target at all, yet you so conveniently fell into my hands when Starfleet Command decided to send you as the Federation liaison. There was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity. One I love was taken from me, and such shall be done to your Maquis bastard in turn. Fair retribution for the loss of Katell." Kalaim sighed a deep sigh of regret. "Katell--my beautiful, brilliant sister. When we were but children, I idolized her and, admittedly, she spoiled me when it was permitted. How I loved to watch her put her mind to a difficult puzzle, because she always solved it in the end. And all of her talents wasted when you chose to put the welfare of a weak stranger race--the people of your precious Kes--above that of your own crew whose safety was entrusted to you, and therefore getting her killed." Kalaim had stepped up to her side by this point and, abruptly, his hand lashed out, slapping Kathryn hard across the face. "Stupid Starfleet bitch. Were it not for you, she'd still be alive."

The force of his slap jerked her head to the side and made her face sting and her jaw ache. What in the hell was he talking about? Katell? Who in the galaxy was Katell? Was there some possibility he could have been mistaken? She blinked away the tears evoked from his slap and stared up at him. “There must be some mistake, Tin....Kalaim. I didn’t have anyone by the name of Katell on board Voyager.”

"Yes, I keep forgetting you never would have known her by her true name. To commit to the task she was given, she was forced to become just as I am. Bajoran skin, Bajoran background, Bajoran name." Kalaim reached down, grabbed a handful of her auburn hair and jerked her head so she was looking at him dead on--his icy, vicious eyes staring hard into hers.

She knew hers must have gone wide with recognition because he laughed in her face and she refused to believe where she knew those eyes from. They were the very same as...oh God...

"Seska." Kathryn's horrified whisper was barely heard over Kalaim's pronunciation of disgust.

He laughed again. “Very good, Admiral! Perhaps you are not as stupid as you look, after all. Yes, Seska was the Bajoran name she ended up choosing.” He made a face. “Certainly not a name worthy of her grace, beauty and brilliance. Such brilliance caught the eyes and ears of the Order--and they recruited the both of us, though she was always given the more covert missions. The Order prized her keen mind and used it to their advantage.”

The pieces were all beginning to fall into place in Kathryn’s mind. Of course. Kalaim was Ses--Katell’s--brother and he was seeking revenge upon her for her death while in the Delta Quadrant. But what she didn’t understand was why. “I don’t understand; she was killed when we took Voyager back from her and the Kazon. I did not hold the smoking gun, Kalaim.”

"Oh, but you did, Admiral. You and that Maquis rapist you call husband." Kalaim's tone was one of pure disgust.

"Chakotay never--"

Kalaim slapped her again, cutting her off. "Don't tell me you weren't aware of his abuse of Katell. And don't tell me he was innocent. She would never have given herself to such filth willingly, nor did she become pregnant with his spawn by means of immaculate conception. A child that the both of you abandoned to this barbarian Delta Quadrant race, no less." He thumbed the laser scalpel on again. "He abandons his firstborn...." The scalpel dipped down, but the edge came no closer than it took to make contact with the cloth, the beam slicing through the tunic from bottom to top. The two halves fell apart, leaving only her bra covering her from the waist up. "....yet is willing to accept the children born of a Starfleet slut." Kalaim moved the scalpel down, tracing the air perilously close to Kathryn's belly. "Perhaps I should cut them out of you, hmm?"

Kathryn struggled against the bonds that held her arms as he carefully sliced through the material of her pants at the waist, laying them open so as to expose her swollen belly to his prying eyes. He placed the scalpel on the table next to her and, to her disgust, ran his hands over her stretched flesh and seemed to be trying to gauge the location of the twins within her. She couldn’t stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes from the terrible thing he was planning to do. She fought hard against the restraints and felt her wrists and ankles bruise as he picked up the scalpel again. “Kalaim, please…” she begged. He wouldn’t cut the twins from her womb, he just wouldn’t! He couldn’t! Her mind screamed and reeled against the morbid, disgusting abomination he was about to perform. “Don’t do this....please.”

“How long do human pregnancies usually last? Nine months, is it? How would your infants fare were I to rip them from you?” He lowered the scalpel and watched with vile delight at how her flesh peeled back from the menacing little device. He made a cut from her belly button downward in a practiced sweep to the band of her panties.

Kathryn shrieked at the pain he inflicted as he swept the device down over her belly, cutting her skin. The burn was intense but she didn’t believe he had laid her open. She forced her head up and held her breath as she looked down. Relief washed through her as she realized that the cut was superficial and meant to scare her. She was certainly that. He had proved his point that he was capable and why he didn’t made her wonder, but she kept silent. She wasn’t about to ask any questions about his motivation or lack thereof. She watched as he snapped the laser scalpel off and again laid it beside her.

“Or perhaps, before I put your babes out of their misery, I’ll violate you in the manner which your Maquis bastard defiled my poor sweet sister. You’re a Starfleet slut and you’re ripe for it. At least I can’t force you to conceive my bastard for you to desert in the hands of your enemy.” Kalaim snorted in disgust as he watched the blood from the cut stain the waist of her panties red.

She tightened her jaw and tuned him out. She was going to resist in the only way she knew possible. She was going to shut him out of her mind and not let him get to her. If she could keep him out of her mind, she would be above his torture. Her chief concern was the safety of her twins and their survival through this whole ordeal. All she had to do was keep him from picking up that scalpel and using it on her until someone found them. Surely, someone would realize that they had gone missing from the conference hall after the explosion. She had confidence that Reanla would be coming for her.

“I have never had a human woman before. I wonder if you as frail and lousy as I have always been told. So weak and without any fire; not like Cardassian women at all who are vibrant, full of vigor and passion. Our women know how to properly please a man,” Kalaim continued as he appraised her body. “Translucent flesh, easy to bruise and such weak bones, Admiral. You’re going to be the worst fuck I’ve ever had, but it will be worth the effort for your Maquis pig to know his enemy had his wife. That is something no man can ever get out of his head. When he comes for you, I think I’ll kill him while you watch. He will die with the knowledge that his wife was used by the brother of the woman he raped. Retribution for Katell will be won!”

Don’t let him in, Kathryn. Don’t let him feed off of your reactions. He will never get to Chakotay and Reanla will be here before he can hurt the twins! She kept trying to convince herself that she could just tune him out and it would be all right....

“Do you think you can ignore me, bitch?” Kalaim hissed as he took a handful of her hair in his hand and slammed her head against the table. “You can’t tune me out, Kathryn! I will get in your head and I will eat away at you until you are crazy enough to believe whatever I tell you.” He slammed her head against the table again and her eyes began to roll back into her head.

She fought the darkness that tried to sweep across her vision from the corners of her eyes. She could not pass out because she knew she might not be lucky enough to wake up. Blinking against the harsh light and the throbbing in her head, she fought to stay above the black waters that were trying to swallow her.

**

“May I say, Mr. Chakotay, that you are a very lucky man. The husband of Admiral Janeway. I never thought I would have the opportunity to meet you. A very lucky hew-mon, indeed,” Quark praised as he served him another glass of water. He still didn’t understand what it was with these particular hew-mons that they only drank water. First the admiral, though, yes, she had her pregnancy as an excuse--and now her husband, who explained he did not indulge. His profit margin was going to dip sharply if these hew-mons continued coming through his doors.

“She is an amazing woman,” Chakotay agreed. “I thought I would be waiting here for her to return from Cardassia and surprise her. Do you have a holosuite available for the evening of her return?”

“Let me find out,” Quark replied with a toothy smile. Perhaps his profits wouldn’t suffer so badly after all. He checked the schedule and realized that he was unusually free for that time of evening. “Were you wanting a two hour block?” He never offered one-hour blocks when he could offer two, leading his customer to believe he only sold in two-hour increments. He only ever booked one-hour time slots if the customer specifically requested them and at a higher rate as well for the lesser time. All part of business.

“Two hours should be fine, Quark,” Chakotay told him. He knew one hour would have been sufficient, but didn’t argue. The extra hour they could spend on the shores of Lake George making love rather than in their bed.

“Excellent, Mr. Chakotay. I am sure your admiral will be pleased,” Quark assured him as he punched in the exchange of credits. “It will keep her away from my dabo tables, too.”

Chakotay laughed heartily. “What has my wife been up to now?”

“Oh, not recently. But before she departed on Voyager, she spent an evening down here running one of my dabo tables. She is quite an accomplished player and she had made me believe she didn’t know anything about the game.”

“She has a tendency to do that,” Chakotay muttered with a smirk as he recalled her first game of pool on Voyager when she smoked the pants off of Tom.

“She quite nearly cleaned me out of all of my profits for an entire day with the amount of her winnings. And on a fixed table, too!” Quark cried out as he refilled Chakotay’s glass. “I have never seen anything like it in my entire life!”

“Commander Chakotay?”

Chakotay turned and found himself in the company of a blond haired Lieutenant. He resembled Tom Paris a little except for his shorter stature and his amber colored eyes. Beside him stood a young female ensign who looked to be Betazoid, but he wasn’t sure. She seemed to have the characteristic features, the obsidian eyes and the dark hair, but he couldn’t be sure. He had seen many beautiful human women with similar features.

“Can I help you?”

“Colonel Kira wishes to speak with you immediately,” the young female ensign reported. "We are to escort you to Ops."

“Thanks for the company, Quark,” Chakotay called as he was on his feet and headed out the door in the company of the two officers.

"Colonel Kira is waiting in her office," the lieutenant told Chakotay as the turbolift came to a stop.

Chakotay nodded his thanks and crossed down and through Ops towards the double doors at the top of a short set of stairs on the opposite side. The doors slid open as he mounted the steps and he found himself face to face with Kira Nerys.

"What is this about?"

Kira simply nodded towards the console on her desk. "We received a priority one call forwarded from Earth for you just a few minutes ago."

Chakotay felt a sinking dread settle in the pit of his stomach as he sat down and keyed in the receive command. The "incoming transmission" logo vanished to reveal a young Bajoran female with ebony hair bound in a ponytail and bright green eyes. She wore no earring, but was dressed in the uniform of the Militia--a uniform smudged in places and with a tear in the left shoulder. There was a smudge on her face as well.

"Commander Chakotay?" At his nod, the young woman continued. "Lieutenant Rash'iel Quinn of the Bajoran Militia. I'm afraid I have some bad news. Admiral Janeway has gone missing."

Chakotay felt his heart sink while worry and fear paralyzed him. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth and the room seemed to take on a surreal quality. Kathryn couldn’t be missing. His pregnant wife was not missing on the surface of Cardassia. It just wasn’t possible! “How... What happened?” he managed to get past his leaden tongue and paralyzed throat.

"The protestors decided to stage an attack this afternoon. Half a dozen of them broke into the conference hall. Some had phasers and began taking shots at everyone. One was a suicide bomber. In the chaos that happened after the bomb went off, we realized that the admiral and our diplomat's aide, Tinalo Lasair, were unaccounted for. Gul Derrak's team has found traces of a transport being made out of the hall shortly after the bombing, along with DNA from the admiral, Tinalo, and an unidentified Cardassian. We are currently at the conclusion that the attack was a front for the abduction, except that Admiral Janeway and Tinalo were not necessarily the chosen targets."

"Lieutenant, is Kaelinn all right?" Kira was now leaning over Chakotay's shoulder, taking advantage of his silence to ask her own questions. At Quinn's nod, she added, "May I speak to her, then?"

"I'm sorry, Colonel Kira. She's not here. As soon as Derrak's security team came up with a possible location for where the abductor took Janeway and Tinalo, she left me in charge and took off to investigate the lead. That was about an hour ago--it's about 0100 Cardassian time now." Quinn's eyes slid to the still-silent Chakotay. "Commander, I assure you that Colonel Reanla--as well as our team and the unit under Derrak's command--is doing everything we can to find Admiral Janeway. Especially so with Colonel Reanla--she and the admiral made fast friends during the trip here and she's taking this very personally."

Disbelief still controlled the vast majority of his brain. It just wasn’t possible for Kathryn to have been abducted. He wanted to believe it was just a sick joke and she was going to slide into view of the screen and he was going to be able to breathe a sigh of relief. “When do you expect to hear from Colonel Reanla?”

"I'm not sure, Commander. She told us she wasn't going to risk contact until she had definitive information, in case the abductors have a trace on our commbadges. If that is the case, she doesn't want to take the chance of causing the admiral and Tinalo to come to further harm. I'm sorry I don't have more to tell you at this time."

“Thank you, Lieutenant Quinn. Keep me informed,” he requested, then waited for her to sever the link. He was trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Kathryn was out there, somewhere hopefully still on Cardassia. She could be hurt, being tortured, anything. He wondered at her state of mind, having been captured and tortured by the Cardassians when she was just an ensign. He wished he knew something more than that she had been taken. Why hadn’t the abductors contacted with a ransom or their demands?

“Lieutenant Nog to Colonel Kira.”

“Go ahead, Lieutenant,” Kira answered the comm.

“We are receiving a priority one subspace message for you from Starfleet Headquarters.”

“Put it through to my office.”

"Yes, ma'am. Nog out." Immediately, the screen began to flash the incoming transmission logo again. Kira reached over to tap in her access code and, once the connection was made, she and Chakotay found themselves under the scrutiny of a pair of ice-blue eyes they both recognized.

"Colonel." Admiral Alynna Nechayev acknowledged DS9's commanding officer with a nod before turning her gaze upon Chakotay. "Commander, you are no doubt aware of the situation on Cardassia Prime--"

“Very aware, Admiral. What I want to know is what action Starfleet is going to take to ensure the safe return of my wife,” Chakotay demanded as he watched her eyes narrow. She didn’t seem to appreciate having been cut off and she glowered at him. He ignored her stare. He wasn’t in the mood for repetition of information he had already heard himself from Lieutenant Quinn, who was actually in the midst of things.

Kira internally grimaced at the sight of Admiral Nechayev on the monitor. The woman had been one headache after another for Captain Sisko and, in her pagh, she had little doubt that this talk was going to end in a positive manner. Nechayev's next words confirmed it.

"Commander, you know as well as I do that Starfleet does not negotiate with terrorists. And especially not in a delicate situation such as this. Storming Cardassia Prime could very well incite another war. Lieutenant Quinn has informed me that Colonel Reanla and Gul Derrak are working to locate the hostages. Therefore, it is to be left in their hands. Should the Gul wish to negotiate for their return, that is his decision to make."

"Admiral, I can speak to General Anórien about sending one of our ships to Cardassia. That way, Starfleet is not involved," Kira interjected.

"Absolutely not, Colonel."

"With all due respect, Admiral, this is not just a Starfleet matter. This is a Bajoran matter as well, since the other hostage is our diplomat's aide--"

"And Deep Space Nine is still a Starfleet station. I will not have its safety put at risk for the sake of two hostages, Colonel Kira. Am I clear?"

"Crystal." Kira's own eyes narrowed, but she held her tongue.

He couldn’t believe this! After all she had done for them, after holding fast to their principles for all those years in the Delta Quadrant--this is how they repaid her? He could only imagine the splash this was going to make when the general public learned that Starfleet was going to leave its newest celebrity in the hands of possibly violent Cardassian terrorists. He wasn’t going to stand for that. The Maquis in his blood suddenly breathed anew. “Then I guess if Starfleet is just going to sit on their asses while my pregnant wife is tortured and interrogated, I will have to take matters into my own hands.”

Kira had to bite back the beginnings of a smile. The man certainly had a good handle on his restraint--better than many others could have done.

Nechayev's eyes narrowed again. "Need I remind you that you are still a Starfleet officer, Commander, and we have principles to uphold. The primary focus here is not to cause another war with Cardassia. You will not interfere.<"

Chakotay ground his teeth together and took a deep breath before continuing evenly. “Permission to speak freely, Admiral.”

Nechayev tried to bore a hole into him for a long moment before very coolly replying, “Granted.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you can take your almighty Starfleet principles and shove them up your ass. I’ll be damned if I am going to sit here and wait for a Cardassian Gul to negotiate for the release of my wife or while Starfleet plays the political card. And as for you, Admiral, you can go fuck yourself.” Chakotay rose from the chair and stormed out of the office, leaving behind a fuming Nechayev on the open comm and a stunned Kira Nerys.

Kira was literally speechless, both surprised and not by Chakotay's reaction. She met the admiral's furious look, not knowing what to say, and finally shrugged slightly. Chakotay wasn't her problem after all--he wasn't under her command, therefore she had no say in giving him any sort of reprimand. At a loss for words, she finally asked, "Did you need anything else, Admiral?"

Nechayev gave her a look that could kill and closed the channel without a further word.

Well, that went well. Kira let out a sigh that turned into a snort and she pressed a hand to her mouth to prevent breaking out into full-fledged laughter.

Chakotay’s thundering feet pounded against the deck plates beneath them. The blood that coursed through his veins was hot and his head and heart pounded with it. The angry warrior within was stirring and, right now, his woman warrior was in danger. He was not going to idly sit around and wait for fate to play its hand. He was going to act--with or without Starfleet’s assistance.

He keyed the padd to his quarters and slid into the chair at the desk. He palmed the console and gained access to send a secured transmission. He waited while the network located her and alerted her to the incoming comm. He banged his fists down on the desk in fury. After everything that had happened…he just couldn’t get over Starfleet’s stance on this situation. This was Kathryn Janeway they were talking about! The safety of their precious station was more important than two hostages. The bitch had said that very thing herself. A damned space station and the security of the quadrant were not more important than the lives of his wife and his son and daughter. Several minutes later, he saw her beautiful face appear on the screen before him. “Sveta.” He still had not completely formulated what he was going to say to her. “Kathryn has been taken hostage on Cardassia,” he finally blurted out.

“Yes, I know,” she replied. To his questioning look, she added, “I have contacts in high and low places all over the quadrant, Chakotay. There is not a lot that happens in our area of the universe that I don’t know about.”

“I need a ship, Sveta.”

“I’m assuming this is not a Starfleet approved mission, then?”

“Not exactly. The terrorists have not made any demands yet and Starfleet’s position is that they will not negotiate, regardless of those demands.”

Sveta was quiet for a long moment as she stared at him. He had come a long way and had made a mark for himself on the right side of the law. She was willing to do anything, but to help him breathe life back into the Maquis? And that’s exactly what it was. A rebel action planned against the wishes of Starfleet and without the knowledge of the Cardassians. They had finally won peace in the quadrant and his actions could very well incite a revival to the war. Then again, he was her friend and she had sworn to always be there for him when he needed her. The need had arisen and it was up to her to make good on her promise.

“I think you should meet me on Bajor. I know the very person who can help you. She has powerful friends of her own. If anyone can help you, she can. Let me get in contact with her while you pack.”

“Thank you, Sveta, I knew I could rely on you. I’ll be on the next transport. Chakotay out.” He paused to inhale and clear his head before booking passage on a transport that was leaving for Bajor within the hour. He had one more comm to make before he jumped up and hurried to pack his things.

I’m coming, Kathryn. I’m coming to save you, my woman warrior.

The transport seemed to take hours when Chakotay knew the distance was just greater than an hour. It was a cramped little supply vessel he managed to book passage on, but it had been the only one leaving within the hour. He sat on the bench next to a Bajoran couple and their young daughter. He watched as the mother lovingly cooed to the infant and he felt heartsick for Kathryn all over again. The baby cooed and Chakotay began to wonder if the chance to hear his own infants make such pleasant little sounds had been ripped away from him.

The bump of the ship setting down alerted the infant and sent her into a crying fit and that was even pleasant to his ears, despite the circumstances. He tried to keep his mind focused and thought of the day when he would hear the first cries of his son and his daughter and they were brought into the world. He tried to picture the event he had called up in his imagination so many times in the past, but this time it was clouded with doom. He saw vicious looking Cardassians crowded around his Kathryn, birthing their babies, and cackling in an evil manner while they looked at the squirming pink infants. He blinked the horror away as he followed the Bajoran couple and their baby out of the airlock and into the setting sun.

“Chakotay!” Sveta called as she jogged towards him, her blonde hair bouncing at her shoulders.

Chakotay waved and met her halfway. He wrapped her into a friendly hug. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, my friend.”

“Come on, we don’t have much time,” Sveta said as she pulled back. “Your Kathryn and the twins may be in great peril.”

Chakotay followed as she led him towards her home. She didn’t live too far from the landing pad for the transport ships and, as they made their way through the city, he spared a moment to appreciate how the Bajoran people had flourished since the end of the Occupation. Peace had been good to them and their planet.

Sveta's home was on the border of Dakhur Province, a four-bedroom cottage nestled against the Dakhurian hills. Two of Bajor's moons were rising as Sveta led Chakotay inside.

"So where is your mysterious friend?" Chakotay asked. But before Sveta could respond, a third, unfamiliar voice interrupted her.

"If this is one of your little pranks, Sveta, I will have your ass." The speaker stepped out of the shadows. Jeraddo's light pouring through the window glinted off a dark golden-blonde head, giving it a faint, almost otherworldly sheen. The light also crafted her face into sharp relief--high brow, delicate nose capped with four ridges, and finely honed cheekbones that bespoke her High Dakhurian heritage. The trio of amber beads in her earring caught the light briefly, offset by a second glimmer of silver that proved to be a charm in the shape of a tiny dagger dangling from the bottommost bead.

But it was her eyes that were the most startling. Unlike the varying shades of brown that was normally dominant in Bajoran genes, she had eyes of a clear, flinty topaz. Eyes that could easily pierce another's soul.

"Chakotay, meet Kitanal Kestrae."

Chakotay eyed the beautiful woman before him. Despite being a married man, he was able to appreciate the rare beauty that she was. Her presence seemed to radiate a dominance and power that was heady. She was certainly a woman not to be toyed with or aggravated. Her name called up memories of snippets of conversation among his crew from when he had been a Maquis. Most envied her, but he remembered Seska’s jealous sneer when he had mentioned trying to recruit her. Then she had disappeared and no one seemed to know what had become of her. Rumors had circulated that she had been taken prisoner by the Cardassians or that the Federation had inducted her into Section 31. Some of the rumors insisted that she had died at the hands of Gul Dukat after a lengthy torture.

“So, the Ta'arhawk lives,” Chakotay commented. By reputation, Sveta couldn’t have contacted anyone better than her, according to the legends of her feats.

Kitanal studied the man before her. So this was the famed Chakotay, ex-Maquis leader, former first officer of Voyager. Sveta had talked about him off and on over the years since they'd met and she now understood what had once attracted the other woman to him. He had a magnetism about him that couldn't be denied. And no doubt, females were drawn to him by that tattoo--just like her coloring attracted men of every species. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she smirked at his words. "Rumors of my death have been exaggerated since I became a known item to the s poonheads back during the Occupation. Has Rash'iel contacted you with any further details on where your wife might be?"

Chakotay wasn’t surprised that she knew the security team on Cardassia that had been looking out for Kathryn. Sveta had said she had friends and no doubt she had contacts all over the quadrant as well. “No, I haven’t heard a word since she first contacted me to let me know about Kathryn’s disappearance and that Reanla Kaelinn was following the leads.”

Kitanal gave a short nod. "The Colonel will be on top of it--you can count on her. She pretty much held the Bajoran Embassy on Kerok Nor together--we went through three ambassadors in the two years, but she didn't budge until Turak forced us all off in order to end that civil war his way. Now, I can't go with you--for obvious reasons, as well that my betrothed wouldn't take kindly to the idea--but you'll have the next best thing."

Chakotay recognized the dark haired and eyed Bajoran woman who entered the room next. She wore the customary earring and had a narrow face with high cheekbones and a pointed chin. “Ro Laren,” he greeted her. He had asked Sveta about her in one of his letters from the Delta Quadrant and even she didn’t know where she was, or so she had claimed. She had disappeared around the time when the Dominion and the Cardassians had joined forces and slaughtered as many of the Maquis as they could find.

“Long time no see, Chakotay,” she returned. “How’s life on the outside?”

Her spunky nature had not changed. She had obviously been in hiding for a long time and had grown weary of it. She looked like she was ready to spring. He remembered her wiry frame and how quick she could be. They had crossed each other's paths a few times while they were both fighting in the Maquis. Both of them being former Starfleet officers would have made one think they would have had a lot to talk about, but conversation was never easy with Ro. She was so angry and full of hatred it was hard to talk about anything with her and not have her lash out. However, she was very good at covert ops and she had spent enough time on the Enterprise to know every trick in the book. He had no doubt about their succeeding if she were part of his mission to save Kathryn.

“The Australis is holding position on the far side of Jeraddo. Are you ready?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he replied, then stepped to Sveta. “Thank you, Sveta.”

Sveta pulled him into a brief hug. “Any time, my friend. Now go save your wife, and try not to start a war while you’re at it.” She tossed him a wink as Ro called for transport.

Kitanal met Chakotay's gaze as he and Ro dematerialized. "Prophets guide your path," she added, not sure if he would have heard her before the transport fully took effect. But her well wishes went with him anyway.

When Chakotay’s vision returned on board the Australis, he followed Ro to the bow and found himself staring at the back of a man’s head in the pilot seat. Something about the build of the man caused a faint glimmer in his memory. When he turned around, Chakotay had to keep himself from visibly blanching. Will...no, Tom Riker.

“That was the same look I gave Ro when she busted me out of Lazon II. One moment I was working in a mine and the next thing I knew, I was standing face to face with her listening to her tell me we had to help a former Maquis comrade save his wife from Cardassian terrorists. Who was I to object? I was up for anything--so long as it meant getting off of Lazon II.”

“Is anyone going to be looking for you?” Chakotay asked as he took a seat behind Ro.

“Are you kidding? Twelve people go down into those mines every day and only five come back, if they are lucky,” Tom replied as he tapped at the control console in front of him. “I’m laying in a course for Cardassia Prime at maximum warp. With any luck, we’ll make it in a day or so.”

“We shouldn’t have to worry about detection. The shields of this baby refract the scans to look like randomized energy spikes in their security field.” Ro said as she continued actively scanning their course, watching for Federation or Cardassian ships they would want to avoid.

Chakotay knew it was going to be a long journey, regardless of how long it took in reference to time. He wondered about Kathryn and why they had yet to hear demands of a terrorist. Surely they hadn’t just wanted Kathryn. Who on Cardassia would have had a vendetta against her personally?

**

Prophets, why the hell was I stupid enough to forget a tricorder?! After eighteen hours of extensive scanning and factoring, the two surviving intelligence officers in Gul Derrak's unit had determined that the transport destination was most likely to be here--on the far outskirts of Lakarian City, where the wealthy legates and guls had once kept vast estates that bordered one of Cardassia Prime's few forests. Quinn had awoken her as soon as this had been determined and, without a further thought, she'd snatched up her phaser, clipped back her hair and immediately transported to the location. She didn't bother taking either Quinn or Ilario for backup--and she didn't take a tricorder. Which meant her search would have to be fully on foot.

Reanla stepped through the front door of the nearest estate house. It had been picked clean and was empty, only dust and scattered debris present. Several spots in the ceiling were caved in, allowing the muggy dawn light to stream through. Methodically, she searched every closet, every hideaway, from cellar to third floor-- and came up empty. The same was true of the outbuildings as well. No sign that anyone had been there since the end of the War.

Time was of the essence and she was afraid of what harm the terrorists--for that was what they were in her eyes--could be doing to both Tinalo and the pregnant Kathryn. Stepping out of the last outbuilding, a storage shed, Reanla turned her gaze across the sweeping, desolate landscape between this and the next estate. It was at least a kilometer or more away and only appeared as a dot on the horizon. One thing was for certain; the legates had been rewarded with plenty of property. She had combed through the massive home and the servants' quarters in just under two hours. Her exhaustion was slowly returning, but she knew she had to press on. Kathryn, the twins, and Tinalo needed her. This need drove her onward and she sprinted across the open plain towards the house in the distance.

Kalaim paced around his captive for the eleventh time. He delighted in the panic that flickered through her eyes every time he stepped nearer. And except for the occasional slap, he hadn't even touched her.

"In fact, I think I won't," he drawled. "I don't need to defile myself in order to gain retribution for Katell's murder. The true satisfaction will be seeing your Maquis bastard's body at my feet. And that's if he even shows up." He stepped away, beginning to pace a slow circle once more. "Perhaps I will have to leave you here and hunt him down for myself." His cold eyes--Seska's eyes--bore into her terror-filled ones. "As for your spawn--" Kalaim paused for only a split second before flinging his fist in a casual move to strike the side of her belly. Once, twice, thrice, in quick succession. When she cried out in alarm from each blow, he smiled.

Seska's smile.

Silver tears escaped her eyes--not for the pain of the blows he inflicted to her belly, but for the lives of her twins. Please, God, let them be resilient. Let them have the strength and heart of their father and myself. Let them beat the odds and not fall to him! She cried in agony as the blows stopped, then felt the sharp bite of a contraction. Oh God, not now! Not this! she silently begged as she felt the slight rush of fluid between her legs. Instinct told her that her water had broken-- she couldn't tell whether or not there was blood as well. She knew deep down that his punishing blows had sent her into labor. The twins were going to make their appearance and, with any luck, live. She swallowed back the sharp sting of the contractions, refusing to give him any hints as to what was happening within her body.

**

Reanla was in the midst of searching the second abandoned estate house when an animal-like cry caught her attention. Two more sent her whipping around to hurry back down the stairs as silently as possible to the ground floor. But then silence fell again, making her wonder if her mind had been playing tricks on her.

No, there it was again! And it definitely sounded like Kathryn. Shoving back a stubborn strand of hair that had fallen out of her clip, Reanla slid down the stairs of the cellar. But the cellar's three rooms were empty; the only sign of life a family of voles in the third room. Cursing under her breath, she dashed back through the door and closed it quietly but firmly behind her. She was about to ascend the cellar steps when she heard the cry again, then a low, muffled voice. Her trigger finger tightened as she tried to discern where the sound was coming from. The room she was in was empty--and she could see straight through into the other side room--it was empty as well. She was alone.

Kathryn's cry--that was definitely her voice--echoed once more. Reanla narrowed her eyes, trying to trace the source, and stopped when she reached the opposite wall.

The wall--it's coming through the wall--there's another chamber in this cellar!! She felt along the walls, attempting to find a hidden door, but nothing. Then there must be another way down. On silent feet, she swiftly ascended the cellar steps. In each doorway, she stopped, listening. When she reached the fourth, another cry--definitely clearer--and along with it, the distinctive, sharp sound of a slap. And the decorative paneling that covered the eastern wall was crooked.

Sucking in a deep breath, Reanla crossed the room, slipped her fingertips into the crack and pulled. It slid noiselessly to one side, revealing a set of stairs leading down. As she crept down them, phaser at the ready, the muffled voices became clearer.

"Kalaim--please--about Seska--"

"Please what?"

Another slap broke the silence, followed by Kathryn's cry of pain.

"Oh, no....I'm giving you everything my sister got and more, Janeway. No amount of begging will get me to grant you the slightest leniency."

To her shock, Reanla realized the cold, merciless voice belonged to Tinalo Lasair. And when she reached the foot of the stairwell and dared a quick peek around the doorframe, she could see Raduen's aide leaning over Kathryn, who lay shackled hand and foot to a table, most of her clothing in shreds. A second peek revealed he was alone.

Blessed Prophets, he planned this!! Horror washed over her at the realization. Their suspicions had been right, after all. Tinalo Lasair was not who he seemed to be. And no doubt that's not even his true name, since Kathryn called him by something else--Kalaim.... Reanla closed her eyes for a long moment, shutting out Kathryn's pleas, steeling herself for the moment. She knew she would only get one chance to take him down.

Continue to part 5