Author's note:  This series is not related to any episode at all, except 
maybe "Caretaker" in the very beginning of this part.  This is what 
might have happened if the Maquis truly were a group of merciless 
terrorists, instead of simply freedom fighters.  There are some changes, 
as you will notice.  Lieutenant Stadi from "Caretaker" is left alive and 
well, since I liked her and thought she shouldn't have died off.  If you 
are under 18, I wouldn't suggest reading this series, since some parts 
will be NC-17.  If you don't like romance between Star Trek characters, 
then I would stop here.  There is heavy Janeway/Chakotay, and some 
Paris/Torres as well.  Dedicated to the JetCers, just 'cause.

First Glance, Part 1 - Mission
by Cheile


        Kathryn Janeway sighed as she crossed the lawn of New Zealand's 
Federation Penal Settlement.  The Rehab Commission had given her the 
go-ahead on discussing the matter with Paris.  She knew a little about 
him, besides the fact that he was Owen's son.  The accident on Caldik 
Prime, being kicked out of Starfleet, captured during his first couple 
of weeks with the Maquis.  She wondered what he was like.
        The answer to that came a few minutes later when she reached the motor 
fleet repair bay.  Sure enough, there he was, hard at work.  She studied 
him for a few minutes.  Really, she couldn't see much, except that he 
was lean, well-muscled, and had unruly blondish-brown hair.
        "Tom Paris?"
        He looked up.  Cerulean eyes met hers and held.  She could see the 
resemblance to Owen.  Not as much as she imagined, but in a subtle way, 
he was his father's son.  That in itself was obvious.
        "Kathryn Janeway," she began.  "I served with your father on the 
Al-Batani.  I wonder if we could go somewhere and talk."
        His eyes darkened slightly at the mention of his father, but other than 
that, he showed little emotion.  "About what?"
        "About a job we'd like you to do for us," she explained.
        He snorted.  "I'm already doing a job--for the Federation."
        *He's inherited his father's tenacity, no denying that*, Kathryn 
thought to herself.  But what she said aloud was, "I've been told the 
Rehab Commission is very pleased with your work.  They have given me the 
go-ahead to discuss this with you."
        An arrogant smile crossed his face.  "Well, then, I guess I'm yours."

        They walked through the park as Kathryn began the conversation.  She 
brought up the subject of his father, but he didn't say much.  Leaving 
it alone, she explained their mission--hunting down the Maquis 
lieutenant who was accused of four murders: a retired Starfleet admiral, 
his daughter, and the daughter's twin boys.  Also, her chief of security 
had been with a Maquis group and had not reported in as usual in the 
past week.  Kathryn feared that they had found him out and were possibly 
doing terrible things to him.  Torture was not at all uncommon among 
prisoners of the Maquis.
        "You want me to lead you to my former colleagues," Paris smirked.  "I 
was only with them a few weeks before I was captured, Captain.  I barely 
know where any of their hiding places are."
        "You can guide us through the Badlands better than anyone we've got," 
she pointed out.
        He turned to her and folded his arms, boring his cerulean gaze right 
into hers.  "I have no problem helping you find my 'friends' in the 
Maquis, Captain.  All I want to know is what's in it for me."
        "You help us bring him in, we'll help you at your next outmate review."
        "Uh-huh," he said, the look on his face clearly meaning he didn't 
believe her.
        *Believe what you will*, Kathryn thought, *but it's the truth.*  Every 
time she pictured the sight of that dead admiral, his daughter, and his 
grandsons, brutally murdered, it made her sick.  All she wanted to do 
was find that Maquis lieutenant, and throw him into a cell so deep that 
he never saw daylight again.

**

        Kathryn sighed, pushing back a stray wisp of auburn hair.  Too much to 
do, too little time, and barely an hour before launch.  She went through 
a neck-high stack of system status reports and other necessary 
manifests, scanning and then pressing her thumb against each.
        She had nearly waded through the stack and had them in some semblance 
of order when the door chime sounded.  "Come in."
        Two people came in.  One was Paris.  The other was young Ensign Kim.  
Paris' blondish-brown hair was still unruly, despite his obvious 
attempts to make it behave.  Kim barely looked old enough to be out of 
the Academy, not to mention scared to death.  "Gentlemen, welcome 
aboardVoyager."
        "Thank you, sir," Kim said quickly.
        Stepping close to him, she looked him up and down before saying, "Mr. 
Kim, at ease before you sprain something."
        Kim made a not-so-great attempt to relax.
        "Ensign, despite Starfleet protocol, I don't like being addressed as 
'sir'."
        He blushed.  "I'm sorry....ma'am."
        "'Ma'am' is acceptable in a crunch, but I prefer 'Captain'."    Again, he 
blushed.
        Deciding to spare him further embarassment, Kathryn turned and led them 
to the nearby door.  "We're getting ready to leave--let me show you to 
the bridge."
        They followed her to the other door.
        "Did you have any problems getting here, Mr. Paris?"
        "None at all, *Captain*,"  Tom answered glibly.
        Kathryn suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
        She introduced Kim and Paris to Cavit.  Though Cavit was cordial to 
Kim, he barely acknowledged Tom.  She made a note to speak with him 
later.  She really had expected better from him than that, even if Tom, 
if the look of bitterness in his eyes meant anything, hadn't.
        She directed Kim to ops.  He was eager to take over.  Suppressing a 
motherly smile, she waved him into his chair, then circled the bridge 
one final time before nodding to Cavit.  They were ready.
        Cavit ordered Stadi to lay in their course and clear their departure.
        "Course entered.  Ops has cleared us," Stadi answered.
        "Ready thrusters."
        "Thrusters ready," Kim announced from ops.
        Kathryn calmly sat down in the captain's chair, though everything 
inside her was jumping with anticipation.  "Engage."

*

        Sitting in her chair the next morning, Kathryn tapped her fingers 
against the arm.  She was getting more impatient as time went on.  She 
wanted to find that Maquis murderer--and fast.  The sooner she did, the 
better.
        "We're coming up on the Badlands, Captain," Rollins announced.
        "Janeway to Paris."
        "Go ahead," she heard him answer.
        "Report to the bridge.  We're approaching the Badlands."

        Paris arrived on the bridge precisely three minutes later.  Kathryn 
gestured him over to the tactical station, where Rollins had a display 
on the console screen of the plasma storms, the bright points flashing 
and disappearing in sync with the real ones outside.
        "Which direction do we head?"
        Cavit grudgingly moved aside to give Paris room.  Janeway barely looked 
at him and Tom felt the slightest bit smug.
        "In this direction," he told him, indicating a curve through the 
storms.  "This is the quickest way.  Most of the hideouts I know of are 
on the M-class planetoids in the Terikof Belt."
        "That's beyond the Mariah System," Cavit noted aloud.
        "Then that's where we'll head.  Rollins, transfer the information to 
helm.  Stadi, follow the course Mr. Paris has laid out for us."
        "Aye, Captain," Stadi replied quietly.
        They had altered course when Rollins spoke up again.  "I'm getting 
another ship on sensors."
        Cavit spun around.  "Who?"
        "Captain, we're being pursued by a Maquis ship," Harry reported.  "It's 
a cruiser--Petra-class.  And they're catching up."
        "Red alert," Kathryn said.
        Immediately, the bridge lights dimmed and the red alert klaxon began to 
blare, in tempo with the flashing of the red warning lights.
        "Their weapons are powered, but they're holding their fire."
        "Shields up anyway, I'm taking no chances."
        "Aye, Captain."
        "They're still pursuing," Harry called from ops.
        "Evasive manuevers, Lieutenant," Kathryn ordered.
        "New heading--four-one-mark-one-eight-three," Stadi replied.
        The plasma storms whirled and screamed on every side, but Stadi's 
expert piloting got them through and around them.  Still, the Maquis 
ship pursued.
        "We can outrun them," Rollins pointed out.
        "Which we will do the second we clear the plasma field."
        A few minutes later, they made it past the plasma field.  On Kathryn's 
orders, Stadi brought the ship to warp three, leaving the smaller Maquis 
ship far behind.
        "Lay in a course for the Mariah System, Lieutenant Stadi.  We'll find 
that Maquis bastard yet," Cavit swore.

        Within the hour, the hazy sun of the Mariah system could be seen on the 
viewscreen.
        "How much farther is the Terikof Belt past here, Mr. Paris?" Kathryn 
asked.
        He thought.  "Another four or five hours."
        "Are there many Maquis hideouts here?" Cavit demanded.
        "Not really, as far as I know," Paris answered.  "The more concealed 
ones are on the M-class planetoids in the Terikof, which is where your 
murderer would be hiding.  Not here in the Mariah, where it's too easy 
to be caught."
        As he said this, the four planets of the Mariah System became clearer 
on the screen.  The first, Kaerin, was a hazy, uninhabited world, closer 
to the Mariah's sun than Mercury to their sun.  The second and third, 
Merin and Marrin, were similar to Earth, and as Paris pointed out, there 
were some Maquis settlements there, but they were more of family 
settlements.  The fourth, Neria, was also uninhabited, because of the 
toxic nitrogen atmosphere.
        The ship had just passed Kaerin when an alarm went off.  "Intruder 
alert on Deck eleven."
        Kathryn spun around.  "What?!"
        "Engineering to bridge."  Everyone could hear the panic in Lieutenant 
Joe Carey's voice.  "We've got intruders down here.  I think they're--"  
There was a thump, then absolute silence.
        "Lieutenant, what's happened?" Kathryn demanded.  "Bridge to 
engineering, respond!"
        The silence was cut off by the hum of a transporter beam.  Before 
anyone realized what had happened, there were four more of the intruders 
on the bridge.
        *The Maquis.*
        Rollins went for his phaser.  But one of the Maquis, a tall, thin 
Bajoran, smirked.  "I wouldn't suggest doing that.  My phaser gun is 
pointed directly at your captain.  One false move and I'll pull the 
trigger and shoot her directly between the eyes."
        Rollins slowly, reluctantly, lowered his phaser.  The Bajoran tapped 
his communicator.  "Bridge to engineering.  Are you secured?"
        "We are secured," said a female voice.
        "Bridge to transporter rooms."
        "Secured," said three different voices.
        "Bridge to shuttlebay."
        "Secured here, Tiernan."
        "Good.  Get the prisoners together, everyone.  Be prepared to transport 
down to Liernaloch."
        The turbolift opened.  About twenty more of the Maquis came out, two of 
them holding Fitzgerald and T'Prena, the Vulcan nurse.  The other 
eighteen spread around the bridge, each taking hold of one of the bridge 
crew.  Only Cavit resisted, and received a vicious blow to the head for 
it.
        "No talking, and no resisting," said Tiernan.
        "What are you going to do with us?" Stadi asked.
        "I said, quiet!"  Tiernan moved to slap Stadi, but one of the other 
young men stepped in front of him.  "The commander said not to harm 
anyone except those who resist."
        Tiernan glared at him, but the young man glared him down.
        "Fine.  See if I care."
        "Edwin, take her," the young man ordered.  As another hurried to obey, 
Tiernan hauled up the now unconscious Cavit.  "I've got their captain."  
He moved to Kathryn, pinning her arms behind her.
        Tiernan touched his communicator.  "Tiernan to Liernaloch.  Energize."

        The transporter beam set them in a hallway.  Kathryn glanced around as 
the young man who had stopped the Bajoran from slapping Stadi pushed her 
down the hall, toward a room at the end.  It looked like the insides of 
Middle Ages castles that had been in old pictures she'd seen.
        Liernaloch, Tiernan had called it.  *A hideout in a castle?  In the 
Mariah System? *  Tom must have been wrong about the true hideouts being 
in the Terikof, unless this one was new.  But the walls seemed a few 
centuries old.
        However, there was no time to think about that.  They had reached their 
destination.
        One by one, Kathryn's crew was dragged into the room.  She looked 
around at each of them.  Harry, poor kid, was terrified.  Rollins was 
stunned.  Carey was trying to put on a brave front.  And Tom even looked 
a little surprised.
        "Commander, we've captured the Federation crew," said the young ensign 
who had hold of Kathryn.
        A tall, robust man walked into the room.  It was obvious he was of 
Native American descendance, from his deep tan and the tattoo on the 
left side of his brow.  He had close-cropped dark hair.  The traditional 
Maquis clothing fit his form snugly and made him appear even more 
powerful, like a jaguar, ready to attack.
        His black eyes, full of scorn, scanned around the room.  A light smirk 
touched his face at noticing Harry's terror.  When he caught sight of 
Tom Paris, however, fury darkened his angular features.
        "You!  I should have known that you were behind this, Paris!"
        "Nice to see you, too," Tom shot back sarcastically.
        He spun around and called out something that sounded Klingon.
        From the doorway, a slender woman appeared.  She had short dark hair 
and dark eyes.  But most noticeable about her were her slight brow 
ridges, proclaiming her Klingon heritage.
        The commander spoke quietly to her.  Her eyes lit up.
        "Take Paris," he ordered her in English.  "Get him out of my sight and 
do what you want with the bastard, but don't kill him.  I'll do that 
myself."
        She nodded and walked towards Tom, who now had a grin on his face.  
"What do you know, a beautiful woman gets to punish me.  Didn't know you 
had that much of a heart," he remarked to the commander.
        "If you survive, Paris, I'll be damned surprised."
        The Maquis ensign released Tom.  The second he was free, the Klingon 
woman grabbed his arm with one hand and his hair with the other and 
dragged him out.
        Now that he was gone, the commander's eyes continued to scan the faces, 
occasionally ordering one of his crew to take one of hers, as the 
Klingon had done with Tom.  Then his eyes landed on her.
        His gaze drew her into their dark depths.  But Kathryn refused to let 
herself be intimidated.  She raised her chin and glared at him.
        "Daren, take her into the main room.  I'll be the one to carry out the 
details with her."
        Daren, the one who had ahold of her, dragged Kathryn roughly into the 
"main room".  It was a large, circular room, with a huge fireplace and a 
cobblestone floor, reminding her of castles she'd seen in books.  But 
there were differences about this room.  There was only one chair--and 
she knew it wasn't meant for her.  Daren pulled her over to where a beam 
crossed the room above two or three inches above her head.  On the beam 
was a set of wrist cuffs, spaced apart.  Daren put her wrists into the 
cuffs and locked them.  Now she was trapped.

To be continued....

Legal B.S.  The main characters and parts from "Caretaker" belong to 
Paramount, the story, Daren and Tiernan belong to me.  The description 
above was an old design of holding used in the Inquisition.  I didn't 
come up with it.