It has been seven hours since a research team landed on the uninhabited M-class planet beneath Voyager. Harry Kim is leading his first away mission, accompanied by Neelix and a few ensigns, to collect plant and food samples. Things are going swimmingly until his combadge chirps, the captain's voice giving him pause.
"Mr. Kim?" He taps his badge.
"Yes, Captain?" Harry waves Neelix and the others on ahead, turning to look out over the hill they've just climbed as he awaits communication. And waits. Frowning, he taps the badge again. "Captain?" He is raising his hand to touch it again, and the world goes dark.
"Status report," Captain Janeway demands as she steps onto the bridge. Chakotay gives her a look of concern as he relays the frantic message they just received from Neelix.
"Harry's gone missing," he says, worry coloring his voice. Tom is antsy, sitting at the edge of his seat and moving constantly.
"Last known location?" she asks.
"He was just behind me," Neelix says through his combadge, voice tinny and frantic, "and then he stopped when you contacted him. He told me to go ahead, and I thought he'd be right behind me, but then when I looked he was just gone and I don't know what could have happened!" His panic comes through more clearly than the message, but Janeway isn't concerned about the Talaxian. She's concerned about Harry's message.
"You said he received a message from me?" Her bewilderment goes unnoticed by Neelix.
"Just a moment ago, we heard you say 'Mr. Kim?,' and then he waved me ahead, and then he was gone."
The captain shoots a worried look to her commander.
"Chakotay, Tuvok, in my ready room." She taps her combadge. "Transporter room, bring home our remaining away team, try to get a lock on Harry Kim." She slips between the doors to her room, her most trusted companions on her heels.
When Harry wakes up, all he knows is that he is cold. The chill makes his limbs heavy and unresponsive, and it takes him a while to discover that he's restrained. He opens his eyes cautiously, not willing to alert anyone that he is awake. He needn't have worried; the room he is in is dark and empty. At least, he thinks it is. He's strapped to a cot and can only see to his left and right. For all he knows there may be a hundred people above his head that he can't see. The thought isn't comforting.
"Hello?" His voice feels too loud in the quiet of the room. There's no answer, but he hears a rustle of clothing beyond his field of vision. "Where am I?" he asks.
"Somewhere better, if you wish," replies a soft voice. Harry can't make out if the voice is male or female, but it doesn't sound threatening.
"What do you mean?" He twists against his bonds for a moment. "Better than what?"
A creature in a dark purple robe steps into view. The body is humanoid, but the face is insectoid, almost, with glittering, faceted eyes and a flat, slit-like nose. Harry tries to ignore the mouth. It will haunt him anyway.
"Better than your flying home," it replies. "We can give you so much more," it whispers, walking slowly around his cot, "so much more power, so much more respect," and it brushes long, haired fingers down the side of his face. Harry grimaces and squeezes his eyes shut.
"Why," he asks on a shaky breath, "do I need that from you?"
The creature gives an approximation of a smile.
"We have been watching your ship, and your family does not respect you," it hisses. "We have heard how they talk about you, talk down to you, treat you like a child." It is standing behind him, hidden, once more. "We can make you a king." Harry laughs mirthlessly.
"Oh yeah? What's in it for you?"
"Knowledge," it replies.
"I'm not telling you anything."
"You will."
Harry is about to reply with something sarcastic and defiant when an object is shoved roughly into his mouth and quickly secured with straps behind his head. His eyes widen in panic as he turns his head at painful angle, desperate to see his captor. He asks a question that comes out as a muffled whine.
"Harry Kim, you will not trust us, but I think, in time, you may tell us what we want." The hand is back, stroking his face, and his stomach roils. "You do not believe the power we could give you." The hand moves up to his hair. "But we will show you. You will choose a stronger master." Harry has only a moment to register that comment before a metallic instrument is touched to his bare chest, and he begins to scream.
"Tuvok, I want a report of all communications with the surface in the last two hours. I need names, workstations, everything you can give me. Include any recent access to my personal logs, I want to know every person who may have had access to a recording of my voice." Janeway is pacing her ready room, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "Chakotay, has anyone shown hostility to Harry in the last few weeks?"
"No, Captain. I've heard nothing from either Mr. Kim nor any other members of the crew to indicate that someone might be upset with him. Frankly, it's more likely the opposite," he replies, a sigh escaping him.
"The opposite? Meaning what, precisely?" She rounds on her second-in-command, one hand on her hip as she leans over his chair.
"Meaning that Harry would have every reason to be annoyed with the crew, not the other way around." She quirks an eyebrow at him, so he continues. "Harry has been seeing a lot more gentle ribbing recently. Members of the crew have gotten comfortable treating him like their little brother." Janeway smiles softly, thinking of the banter she so often sees between Harry and Tom. "I'm not convinced he deserves it." Chakotay frowns, thinking of the frustration he has seen in the young man's eyes when comments cut too closely. "He may have been green when we got here, but Harry's become a fine officer."
"Agreed," Janeway says with a nod, though she knows that she has treated him more as a son than a subordinate. "But that doesn't explain why someone would impersonate me to attack him. Has anyone been to the surface besides our away team?"
"Negative, Captain," Tuvok answers. "Permission to head down, myself, with a security team?"
"Granted, but get me those communication logs first. Dismissed."
Everything is pain. The creature only touched the device to his skin for a few seconds, but his body is still screaming in agony what seems like days later. He is finally, finally coming down from it when the voice is back behind him.
"Are you feeling well, Mr. Kim? Or shall I call you Harry?" Harry's face distorts in fear and disgust at the voice. "Harry it is, then." The creature is strolling around him, observing the way Harry's muscles twitch and jump as the final waves of pain leave him. "Do you like my toy?" Harry eyes the creature warily, relieved to see that both hands are empty at the moment. "It's a special device that splits your nerve endings and then repairs them on an alternating current. It's not particularly delicate, but it's certainly effective. I only had to tap it to you and you were writhing for six hours. Of course, that sort of struggle can leave a man hungry. Are you hungry, Harry?" it asks with false concern, mockery clear through the haze of exhaustion and pain still clouding Harry's mind. Despite himself, Harry nods, and then something like a hypospray is at his neck, bringing him into darkness once more.
The creature does not leave him this time. It pockets the medical spray and gingerly removes the gag from his prisoner's mouth. It leaves the room briefly and then returns carrying a length of tubing and a small, metallic drum. The feeding tube is pressed firmly down the prisoner's throat, and the drum of broth is emptied into him. The creature removes the tube, places the gag firmly back into Harry's mouth, and revives him.
Harry's immediate response is to cough at the phantom feeling of the tube, but the gag makes him choke it down. His eyes are stinging and he is still so cold. He shivers hard.
"Couldn't have you trying to bite me, now could I?" the creature says as an explanation. "You must be cold. Our research has shown that your species is most comfortable between 20 and 25 degrees, but we like things a little cooler down here. You'll either adapt to living at 8 degrees, or you'll die. It's not all that important that you live, but it would be a shame to have to replace you with someone else from your ship. Your pilot friend, or the Borg woman, perhaps?" Harry can feel his heart quicken in panic at the thought of Tom or Seven being subjected to this in his place. "All you have to do to stop that is be strong enough to live to the next questioning, hmm?" The condescension in the creature's voice is chilling, but Harry knows that he'll endure this as long as he can. He has to keep his family safe. "You're fighting?" the creature says with some surprise at the resolve on his prisoner's face. "After all the ridicule they throw at you? Oh yes," it says, seeing Harry's alarm, "we have been watching, we have seen." And then its eyes are fixed on Harry's and Harry begins to feel a memory being forced to the forefront of his mind.
Seven is looking at him with the sort of boredom one directs at dirt on their shoe while Tom laughs behind him. He's just asked her to watch a movie with him, to less than positive response. His vision swims for a moment and he's suddenly at a table in the mess hall and B'Elanna swats the side of his head for asking something about Klingon culture. The scene changes and it's Tom telling him to put on his big boy pants when Harry mentions being homesick, then it's Janeway looking at him with pity, Tuvok quirking that damn eyebrow, Kes with her knowing concern, more and more people treating him like a child, a fool. He is breathing heavily through the gag, trying to force the unpleasant memories away, but the creature has some kind of control on his thoughts. He has tears streaming down his face a hollow ache in his chest before it finally stops, and Harry thinks that he'd rather have the metal "toy" again instead. Why, he asks himself, do I want to protect these people? He's immediately ashamed of this thought, but it plagues him as the creature smiles and slips out the door.
Harry lies awake on his cot, alternately furious with his crew and himself, unable to stop replaying all the memories the creature brought forward. He begins to make a list, pros and cons, of all his shipmates, trying to figure out if there's anyone he owes it to to survive. He knows that his feelings are being manipulated, but his heart feels defeated as he works through his friends, remembering all the taunts and teasing he's received. But then he gets to command and stops. Chakotay, he thinks, has never belittled me. He has always been a rock. He grasps desperately to this thought and holds it as he feels himself slipping once more into sleep.