SLASH m/m Chakotay/Paris
"Congratulations, Captain." Admiral Paris said heartily, clinking his wineglass enthusiastically against hers.
Captain Kathryn Janeway gave him a wide grateful smile.
"I know that it was your recommendation that I should get this promotion. Thank you, Sir. Iím extremely grateful."
"You deserve it, Kathryn. I may have oiled the wheels a little but only because I felt that it you were ready for this next step up the ladder."
"I wonít forget your kindness to me, Admiral."
"Have you received details of your posting yet?"
"Not really. I know that I will be getting a prototype ship but I donít have any details yet. I am attending a briefing tomorrow morning with Admiral T'bek."
"Well, good luck Kathryn. Perhaps you would be kind enough to call by my office afterwards. There is a small favour I wish to ask of you but Iíd rather not discuss it here."
"Of course, Admiral. It would be my pleasure."
Admiral Owen Paris caught Admiral Burtonís eyes watching him from across the room. He gave an almost imperceptible nod and then slowly eased himself out of the crowd of celebrants and made his way back to his office where he could be sure of privacy. The rooms were swept for listening devices several times each day.
A few minutes later, Admiral Burton appeared.
"Alexander." Owen nodded "What can I do for you?"
"What game are you playing now, Owen? You know Kathryn Janeway is a plant. I never understood why you took her as a personal aide and why the hell you would suggest her for Voyager is beyond me."
"You need to learn to see the wider picture, Alexander. The reason I took Kathryn as my aide is because I KNEW she was working for THEM. If you are going to have a spy in your camp it is far better to have one right under your nose, where you can keep your eye on them. Kathryn is a good Starfleet officer but she lacks the necessary guile to be a successful spy. She is so painfully honest that she canít see beyond what I want her to see."
"She certainly fell for your "Tom is no longer my son" routine. The rumors that he might have been working for you have all died down. All I am hearing now through my contacts is general disbelief that even YOU would allow him to stay in Auckland, especially since that last incident." Burton shuddered
"Thatís one of the reasons it is imperative that we get him out of there. He has survived too many "incidents" in jail and that last one was simply too much. People are going to start wondering how he is surviving. I canít risk him being subjected to a full medical scan."
"Well, quite apart from the fact that no other victim has survived one of those public fisting Ďexecutionsí, the rumor is that when the guards finally managed to rescue him, he actually begged THEM to do him too!"
Owen swallowed heavily.
"I admit that we were possibly a little TOO thorough in our conditioning of him." He allowed reluctantly "His behavior is beginning to appear aberrant, even to scum like the prison guards at Auckland. I have intercepted several requests from the Auckland authorities to give Tom an in depth physiological examination and I canít keep burying them in paperwork. Eventually someone is going to figure out what is going on. Besides, Tom is failing to provide any useful information to us now. He seems to have forgotten WHY I sent him there."
"I thought Berzawski was still visiting him regularly, under the guise of working on an appeal."
"He is, but he says that Tom wonít talk to him any more. The only information Berzawski has managed to pass on in the last few months is the fact that Tom has developed a masterful command of blow jobs." Owen hissed in disgust. "You wouldnít think heíd have the nerve to say it to my face would you?"
"Well it WAS your suggestion that he did it."
"Berzawski is an ambulance chaser. Since Tom has no money to pay a lawyer with, it seemed the only logical explanation of why the fat bastard would still visit him. It was a cover for his visits. These days it is obviously the sole reason for his visits. It pisses me off. I didnít spend all that money on Tom just for some useless fucking lawyer to use him as a sex toy."
"So, how are you going to handle the situation. Do you want me to arrange a more permanent incident for Tom?"
"I have seriously been considering that option. He is proving to be no use to us there and itís too risky to leave him running loose in Auckland for another four years. We will have to Ďretireí him."
"Itís a shame."
"Itís a damned waste, thatís what it is. I have a possible other option though, which is where that silly cow Janeway comes in."
"She will be given the USS Voyager tomorrow with the express purpose of routing out the Maquis. There are hundreds of Maquis ships out there, all nipping at the Cardassianís flanks and then hiding out in the badlands. Somehow I have to make the capture of ONE particular ship her main priority."
"The Crazy Horse."
"Tuvok is still on board his ship."
"Indeed. Iím going to accidentally let it slip that he is one of my intelligence agents. I am going to make a personal request that she leaves the Crazy Horse alone."
"Which will inevitably make her determined to catch it first. She will drool at the chance of catching one of our operatives red-handed."
"Yes, and how better to catch Chakotay than to take an ex-Maquis along for the ride?"
"Tom." Burton realised with admiration
"She has every reason to believe that he will help her. After all, Chakotay betrayed him and I have made it clear that I donít give a damn about him."
"Will he go with her?"
"I will send Berzawski to see him tomorrow to explain the situation. Tom will do as he is told. He always does."
"So Tom will help Janeway capture Chakotay, then what?"
"One of Chakotayís crew is a Cardassian spy. Tom will help this person escape and they will both return to Gul Dukat. Of course there is a chance that Dukat will simply kill Tom at first sight, but itís worth the risk."
"It would be fantastic if we could get Tom back into Dukatís bed. Especially since he is based on the Cardassian homeworld now. Letís hope he decides to keep Tom alive."
"Well, he wonít trust him anymore, not now he knows who Tom really is. Cardassian intelligence has undoubtedly let him know that Tom is MY son, by now. However, that is one good reason for Dukat to take his time about killing him. Dukat loathes me."
"Tom will hardly be much use to us strung up in Dukatís torture chamber, Owen."
"On the contrary, people have a tendency to tell their darkest secrets to people who they are torturing to death. We will simply plant a listening device inside Tomís body."
"We canít monitor it on Cardassia." Burton protested in confusion
"Obviously, but Dukat is bound to send whatís left of his body back to me as some kind of sick trophy, and we can download the information then."
Burton shuddered at Owenís emotionless words
"You really donít give a damn about him, do you?"
"This is a war, Alexander, and I use whatever weapons are at my disposal. Tom has become a liability. Unfortunately he needs to be Ďretiredí. This way, at least, his death wonít be a total waste."
Tom shuffled into the interview room and tried to hide his shudder of distaste at the sight of his fat Ďlawyerí.
"Good morning, Tom" Berzawski said cheerily. He waited until Tomís escorts closed the door, then slid a device out of his briefcase and scanned the room. Finally satisfied that they were unobserved he fumbled excitedly with his trousers until his greasy cock slid out from under his pendulous stomach.
Wordlessly Tom began to sink to his knees, his guts already heaving at the sight of the Lawyerís sweaty groin.
Berzawski smirked as Tomís hot mouth closed gently around him and experienced velvet lips sent delicious sensations through his fat body. He was going to miss the little slut.
"You are going to have another visitor today, Tom." He announced. Tom froze in confusion only to receive a heavy cuff across his ear.
"Donít stop" Berzawski hissed. He waited until Tomís rhythm was restored before continuing
"A Captain Janeway is coming to see you. She is going to Ďborrowí you for an undercover mission to capture one of your fatherís operatives. Ohhhhhhh" he gasped, his train of thought interrupted by his cockís explosion into the younger manís mouth. He waited until Tom had licked him clean and then pushed the blonde head away impatiently as he tucked his satiated cock back into his trousers.
"His name is Tuvok. You know him. Heís on Chakotayís ship."
He was surprised to see Tom flinch at the name. Over the last few months, since the Ďincidentí he had begun to believe that Tomís mind had completely gone. The young man had still been a compliant, very enjoyable sexual partner but had given no indication that he even knew who HE was anymore, let alone reacting to anything the Lawyer had said to him. It was surprising that he was still capable of wincing at the name of his Maquis betrayer.
"You will be given the command codes for Janewayís ship. After you have aided the capture of Chakotay, you will be able to disable her long enough to take a shuttle and escape."
"Escape where?" Tom queried in a voice rusty from disuse
"You are to go to Cardassia and rejoin Gul Dukat." Berzawski informed him, relieved that Tom WAS capable of speech still, after all.
Tom hung his head in renewed misery, tears brimming in his deep blue eyes. Whenever he decided that his life couldnít possibly get any worse and resigned himself to his existence, someone always found a way to kick him that little bit further into hell.
He had actually begun to enjoy life at Auckland in a perverse kind of way. For the first few months he had tried to please his father, using his body to solicit as much information out of his fellow prisoners as possible. He had even managed to obtain the location of the main Maquis supply depot from a disenchanted mercenary. Unfortunately the inmates had begun to put two and two together as the nightly news vids showed the unprecedented successes of Starfleet Intelligence in response to his revelations.
A kangaroo court had ended in the decision to tie him up in the mess hall and fist him to death. His unexpected survival of the experience, not to mention his obvious enjoyment of the whole procedure, had given him a new almost religious status in the eyes of the other inmates. He was a gift, they decided, and not one to be thrown away lightly.
Tom had stopped asking questions, in fact he had stopped talking at all, and in return the inhabitants of Auckland had stopped trying to kill him and had become content to simply use his body for their pleasure.
To Tom, the new status quo had become a tolerable existence, one he had resigned himself to as being at least less painful than his life at Terrik Nor. He had no expectations of happiness anyway, contenting himself that there were degrees of pain, and the life at Auckland was at least better than his previous assignment. The idea of now being thrown back to Gul Dukat was terrifying to him.
"Please" he whispered pathetically "Donít send me back there. I want to stay here. I like it here."
Berzawski looked at the broken man with contemptuous pity.
"Youíve been assigned, Paris. You know better than to refuse an order. Intelligence doesnít accept no for an answer. "
Tom began to cry in earnest
"Iíd rather die than go back there." He whispered
"I expect Gul Dukat will kill you anyway. Heís hardly going to welcome you with open arms. He knows who you are now. Your face was splashed all over the newsvids when you were sent here, ĎAdmiral Parisís son, the Maquis Traitorí they all called you. Bloody waste of time sending you, in my opinion."
Berzawskiís callous words sank into Tomís head.
Dukat would kill him. Yes, probably, almost certainly. An odd feeling of relief flooded him. It would be over, finally. For the first time in nearly a year, a feeling of true happiness crept into the shriveled husk that had once been his heart.
He rose from his knees with grace, a twitching at the corners of his mouth slowly expanding into a blinding smile that transformed his pale features into a beauty that made Berzawski close his eyes in sorrow at the waste.
"Tell my father I wonít let him down." Tom said, his voice infused with new strength.
Berzawski looked at the transformed man in surprise and then shrugged sadly. He had been right, he decided Tom Paris HAD truly lost his mind.