Chapter 42 

Captain Farrell considered he had pushed Harris as far as he could. He knew what Cheung was trying to do, but he felt he couldn't take the risk. If he tried to back away now, Harris was wound up enough to detonate the bomb in retaliation, killing himself and Cheung instantly, doing god knew what damage to the rest of them. 

He squared his shoulders and walked through the docking bay to the embarkation chamber. Cheung backed up reluctantly to allow him in to the small space. Before anyone else could act, Harris stepped in behind them both and sealed the chamber. He gestured both men into the shuttle and stood against one wall, watching closely as Cheung settled back into the control seat and Farrell took a position on the opposite wall, his arms folded over his broad chest. 

"Take us towards Moonta," he directed Cheung, then turned to Farrell. "Sit down right there and keep your hands where I can see them." 

He wanted to search both men but he couldn't let go of his wristcom. He had programmed the device to go off as soon as he released the pressure, his finger was the only thing keeping them all alive at the moment. This way, if either man jumped him or even triggered nerve gas to knock everyone out, the bomb would explode automatically. He wondered how long he could keep it in place, the stress was already causing his finger to tremble slightly. 

He waited impatiently while Cheung launched the shuttle into space, setting the co-ordinates for Moonta, before turning to Farrell.  

"You killed my father!" he accused. 

"Pardon?" The Captain was startled, it was the last thing he had expected to hear. He had killed exactly four men in the course of his duties, none of whom were called Harris. His mind raced furiously over the few men who had died while he was in command of the Diell. Nothing. 

"I'm sorry but I have no idea what you mean, who your father was. Can you explain it to me, from the beginning?" Like any good hostage negotiator, Farrell knew it was important to keep the perpetrator talking.  

"My father was Tom Wilson!" 

"Wilson! But-" Farrell hadn't intended to interrupt but he couldn't help himself. As far as he knew Wilson had been an unequivocal om, he'd had no idea he had a family. 

Harris thought he knew what the other man was going to say. "I know you weren't the one who actually stuck a knife in his side but you may as well have been. It was your fault he killed that man Doyle, your fault he couldn't come home to us!" His face was red with emotion, struggling to get the words out. 

"I'm sorry about your father's death," Farrell said sincerely, "but I wasn't the cause of his fight with Doyle. They fought because Doyle lied to him and your father believed him rather than asking me for the truth. It didn't help that they'd both had far too much to drink that night, either." It had taken him some years to reach that conclusion and he didn't really expect that Harris would see it that way, but they were the simple facts, once he had got past the guilt. 

"You're lying!" 

"No. There were three oms on the Reval, Tom Wilson, Doyle and me. Wilson and I were friends but I never liked Doyle. He made a pass at me early on and I turned him down flat." He could see Harris shaking his head in denial but he kept going, keeping his tone conversational. "Tom wanted us to be more than friends but I wasn't sexually attracted to him and I told him so, the very day they had that fight. That night, they were drinking in the Two Rings and from what your father told me, Doyle boasted that he'd slept with me, which was a flat lie as I said. But they were both drunk and they fought over it. Wilson was a much bigger man and it turned ugly, he threw Doyle against the wall and broke his neck." 

"You're lying, that's not what happened. You came onto Dad, tried to take him away from his family!"  

Rather than denying the accusation, Farrell changed tack. "I'm sorry, I honestly didn't know he had a family, he never talked about one. As far as I knew he was single, an om." 

"He wasn't an om! Not til you came onto him! Then you betrayed him with that other man and he had to fight him!" 

"Did he? I wish he hadn't fought Doyle, I wish he had just told him to fuck off and walked away."  

Harris didn't want to listen but he couldn't help agreeing, he wished he'd walked away too. He needed to think, but the Captain was still talking. 

"In any case, whatever you believe, whatever did or didn't happen between us, it was hardly worth killing someone over, was it? Ultimately, Tom was responsible for the actions he took, and from what you're saying he ruined more lives than his own that night." 

"You're trying to twist things!" He wouldn't believe him. "It wasn't Dad's fault! He told me he was going to transfer down to Moonta, get a patrol job on Wallaroo so he could live with us full time. It was your fault he got into that fight and couldn't come back to us!" 

The Captain opened his mouth then closed it. As far as he was aware Wilson had signed up for another five year contract on the Reval, but he didn't think it would help to point that out. If Harris couldn't see the holes in his own argument, he wasn't going to challenge him further. He was agitated enough as it was.  

"What? What were you going to say?" Harris demanded. 

"Just that I thought Wilson had signed up for another five years on the Reval ... but evidently I was mistaken." 

"Yes, you were!" 

"You could always check Patrol records and find out for certain." Cheung spoke for the first time and both men started a little at the sound of his voice, as if they had forgotten he was there. Farrell didn't know whether it would make the situation better or worse if Harris found out his father had lied but it was too late. Impulsively, Harris ordered Cheung to request the information from the console unit to prove he was right. 

He peered eagerly over the Lieutenant's shoulder, waiting for the information to appear. The recruitment records showed Wilson had another five years on the Reval to go, there was no mention of a request for transfer to Wallaroo. Harris didn't believe it. He made Cheung bring up the information three more times, growing more and more frantic. It simply wasn't possible that what Farrell was saying was the truth, that his father had lied to him. 

Farrell couldn't tell if Harris was even capable of listening to reason or whether his emotions had too much sway, but he had to try. He stepped in quickly before the crewman lost the plot completely. "What are you going to do now, Harris? You still have a choice, you can take the coward's way out and blow us all up or you can take responsibility for your own actions. I'm not going to start lying to you now, you know you're looking at a prison sentence, but if you surrender and give yourself up voluntarily, it will work in your favour. You're only young, don't throw the rest of your life away on an empty gesture!" 

Harris swallowed, the whites of his eyes showing. He didn't particularly want to die but he didn't want to go to prison either, look what had happened to his father there. 

His finger trembled on the wristcom. He looked at the man he remembered he had admired, before he hated him, and made up his mind. 

"I need help to reprogram the bomb." 

XXX 

Cheung stepped out of the shower into his room at the Blue Nova, wearing only a pair of black drawstring pants that he had ordered from the hotel shop earlier. His uniform was hanging on the wall, freshly cleaned in the room's hygiene unit, ready for the trip back to the Voyager the next day. He felt tired, emotionally wrung out by the events of that day, all he wanted to do was have something quick to eat, a stiff drink or two and an early night. 

He wondered briefly what Farrell was doing in the room next door. After a couple of long hours at Patrol headquarters on Capella, seeing to Harris' detention and making statements, they had been only too ready to book into the hotel for the night and not report back to duty until the following day. 

As if his thoughts had conjured him up, Farrell flashed his ID outside his door. Cheung flung a hotel robe over his bare shoulders and opened the door. Rather to his surprise, instead of coming in, the Captain stayed outside in the corridor, as if he felt uncomfortable finding him only half dressed.  

Then Cheung took a second look. Evidently he had not been the only one to order clothes from the hotel shop. Farrell was wearing dark grey shimmersilk trousers that clung to his powerful thighs and calves, but what really had Cheung's pulse leaping was his shirt, made of the latest material which changed texture as he watched, flowing from silky opaque to wet transparent, revealing by turns a curved rib, a flat nipple, a hard ab. Cheung couldn't tear his eyes away, he could only hope he wasn't drooling.  

"It's the latest thing," Farrell sounded apologetic. "Too much, huh?" 

"I wouldn't say that," Cheung didn't know if he'd said that aloud or in his head. 

"I thought I'd go to the Allstars," Farrell was saying. "I need to unwind, have a few drinks." He gave a self conscious laugh, "To be honest, I really need some sex, some no-strings sex."  

He tried to stop staring at Cheung's half naked body, the drawstring pants riding low on his hips below a washboard stomach ... hmm, Cheung looked much fitter than he had expected for some reason. Yeah, fitter, that was it. Hastily he refocussed on his face. "I was wondering if you'd like to come along, keep me company for a while." 

Cheung had no idea he was going to say what he did until he heard the words come out of his mouth. "You don't have to go to the Allstars. You can stay here if you like." What was he doing? Had he really just propositioned the Diell's Captain? The man who terrified him as much as he attracted him? His stomach began to churn as he waited for his answer. 

Farrell's eyes widened in surprise. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said gently. "I'm pretty wound up. I was just after some ..." 

"I know," Cheung interrupted, his cheeks flushed. "I know you only want a one nighter, I'm okay with that." He waited for Farrell's answer, the doubts suddenly sweeping in as the other man hesitated, maybe the Captain didn't fancy him, maybe he was just trying to find a polite way to turn him down. He got in first, "Or if you'd rather go out, just give me a few minutes and I'll get dressed." 

Farrell closed the door behind him and took a step forward, his hands gently easing the hotel robe off the other man's shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. "Are you sure about this? I don't want to take advantage of you," he said softly, stroking his shoulders then sliding his hands down Cheung's smooth back to bring their hips tight against each other. Cheung thought his heart was beating a kay a minute, he had Farrell's wonderful hard body pressed against him, he could feel every warm muscle through the light material, feel him already hardening against his stomach. It was like a wet dream come true.

"God yes! I'm sure." His voice was already thickening. He felt the other man's hands slide down into his pants a second later, going straight for him, cupping and stroking. God that felt good, so good. Farrell hadn't been kidding about being wound up, before he knew it he was naked on the floor with Farrell on top of him. The other man was still wearing his shirt but evidently he'd managed to get rid of his trousers somewhere along the way.  

They hadn't even made it to the bedroom, let alone the bed. This was too fast, he was going to ... Farrell exploded inside him at the same time, shouting out in his release.  

They both realised at the same time that the name he had shouted wasn't Cheung's. He saw the horrified embarrassment fill the Captain's face. "I'm sorry-" 

He put a finger on Farrell's lips to stop the flood of humiliated apologies. "So, you're a screamer then?" He teased, suddenly confident for the first time that night. 

It was the last reaction Farrell had expected. "I'm sorry, I should go," he muttered, trying to get up. 

Cheung's arms tightened around him, like steel bands. "Please don't go. Let's try that again shall we?" He kissed him lightly. "Petrov is cute, I agree, but this time we'll do things my way, a bit slower for a start." He kissed him again, this time slipping his tongue teasingly inside Jake's mouth as he opened it to apologise again. Jake pulled away, still feeling incredibly uncomfortable, not quite ready to believe that Cheung wasn't feeling deeply offended. 

Cheung rolled them both over in one smooth motion so that he was on top. He placed the other man's wrists above his head, holding them there with one hand while he unbuttoned his shirt with the other, one button at a time, trailing a line of hot kisses down his stomach as he went. "I guarantee I'll take your mind off anyone else for the rest of the night. My name is Lei by the way, you can start practicing it now."