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"Kim to Tuvok..."
"Go ahead, Ensign."
"Got 'em, sir. They're transporting now. They seem to be okay."
Tuvok, Paris and Torres stared at the transporter pad as the beam began its glow, not really knowing what to expect. Hours ago, the comlinks to their two commanding officers had abruptly disappeared, catapulting the other senior crew members into hurried discussion, deliberation, large and small-scale sensor sweeps of their last known location and indeed the entire planet... Several long and frustrating sessions between "Ambassador" Neelix and local authorities on the surface were also to no avail. So far as Triskelion was concerned, Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay did not exist. No one knew anything, or would tell what they knew...
After long hours of confusion and concern, the remaining officers met to map out their next step, which Torres wanted to be a full-scale away mission. Tuvok, ever-cautious, did not want to send anyone else down (to perhaps meet the same fate) until they had a better idea of what had actually occurred. It was this debate that was interrupted by the announcement from the bridge that Janeway's and Chakotay's com signals had reappeared as abruptly as they had vanished.
Exchanging looks of relief, the three ran for the turbolift as fast as they could. As he ran, Tuvok ordered that the the two missing leaders be beamed up as quickly as sensor locks were obtained. Now they stood together, waiting and watching...
The images shimmered into existence on the pad and assumed their familiar dimensions... in slightly unfamiliar positions. Chakotay, minus his shirt and plus one bandaged arm, lay flat on his back. Janeway, also missing much of her uniform, hair in disarray, wrists tied behind her back, lying astride him, their faces inches apart and showing expressions of surprise and dismay. Next to them sat a pile of weapons and tricorders. Both of them covered with sweat and dirt. And blood on both of their mouths...
There was a moment of silence as all parties absorbed what they were seeing...
Chakotay (being the only one of the five to fully understand the situation) moved first, realizing that Janeway's eyes were their usual clear blue once again and that she was staring at him in blank amazement. He sat up, raising her up as he went, then handed her up to Tuvok, who helped her to stand and untied her hands, passing the bolo back to Chakotay.
"Captain, are you all right?"
"I - I think so, Tuvok... I don't know...how, or... Commander?... You're injured..." She walked to Chakotay's side, touching his arm gently, and looking at his lip. "Who did this to you?"
Chakotay looked at her for a long moment, then at Tuvok, then at Paris and Torres who had come closer to assist. He opened and closed his mouth several times, and finally closed it again with a deep breath. "You did, Captain..."
"I? - did it?..." Janeway looked at him with her mouth open. "Me?!"
Torres came forward with a pad from the medical kit and wiped the blood from Janeway's chin and lips. "Thanks, B'Ellana..." Torres' and Chakotay's eyes locked briefly as she noted the condition of his lip, and a tiny smile started to creep onto Torres' face.
Chakotay nodded assent. "But it was totally a - mistake, Captain, surely you... remember?..."
Janeway looked down at her torn and dirty t-shirt and slacks, then at her officers, her look of consternation growing larger by the minute. "No, not exactly - well, maybe... a little..." She shot her First Officer a strange look. "I, uh - can't wait - to hear a full report from you, Chakotay... I'm going to Sickbay... At your convenience..."
"Aye, Captain."
With one more look at all of them and an embarrassed smile, Janeway left the transporter room.
Paris and the others exchanged mystified, bemused looks. Chakotay finished rolling the bolo around his hand and let out a huge sigh. Exhaustion hit as if he'd collided with a wall. As he rubbed his bleary eyes, Torres sauntered up and stood in front of him, looking him over from head to toes, the twinkle in her eyes showing clearly. "We're so glad to have you back safely, we were really worried... You're bleeding, Commander..."
He winced and pulled away from her fingers as she touched his swollen lip. " B'Ellana!..." As he shot her a threatening look, she stood on tiptoe and spoke close to his ear.
"When we were Maquis, I always thought you would make a splendid Klingon, Chakotay... and now you even look like one!" And she purred a low Klingon growl deep in her throat that gave him goosepimples. As she flounced out the door, Torres shot Chakotay another smug look and winked at Paris, who was also on his way over to Chakotay.
"Next!", Chakotay said with another sigh.
"Don't be so defensive, Chakotay! I just wanted to ask you one question..." The smug expression on Paris' face looked a lot like B'Ellana's, and he coyly lowered his voice.
"...Whatever this fight was, were you the WINNER, or the LOSER?!..." Chuckling softly, Paris departed too.
Chakotay watched him leave, and then turned to Tuvok. "Just don't say anything, Tuvok, not one word, do you mind?..."
The impassive Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "Welcome back, Commander."
"Yes. Thanks. I'm going to Sickbay. My arm is killing me."
The Transporter Room door hissed closed behind him. As Tuvok finished checking the transporter log and retrieved the weapons from the pad, he noticed something lying on the floor, a small object that seemed to have a chain connected to it...
It was a tiny vial hanging on a golden chain. Tuvok inspected it briefly, pulled the stopper out, peered inside, and cautiously sniffed at it. His face convulsed in an expression of utter disgust. "Ugh!" Looking at the vial with distaste, he replaced the stopper and tucked it into his pocket as he walked out.
As the door shut, soft rustling voices filled the empty room and died away. It sounded a lot like laughter...
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