Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager and the characters belong to Paramount. The events in this story and any errors are mine.
Kathryn heard weapons fire in the tunnel. She pulled herself over the floor to the bars of the cell and tried to peer through the darkness, but it was no use. She had no way of knowing whether it was another riot or the guards getting drunk again, either scenario being equally plausible.
Since being kidnapped by a rebel force during an away mission four days ago, she had been beaten and held prisoner in this dark, dank hellhole with no contact with anyone except the warden who brought her a slice of something that could either be a root vegetable or some kind of bread once a day. She had also been given a ladle of water yesterday. The warden never spoke, never answered her rapid-fire questions, and never gave any indication that he had any intentions of doing so. The last words she had heard spoken to her were when they brought her through the tunnel and handed her a bundle, ordering her at gun point to remove her clothing. What they had given her in return was material, but a far cry from clothing. She had been forced to don a pair of sheer white panties and a loosely meshed over-garment that was held to together only by one button just above her naval, leaving her breasts bare and the rest open from the button to her knees. She wasn't even sure why they bothered; she would be no more exposed if she were nude.
The firing ceased, and she listened intently with her head pressed against the bars. Very faintly, then growing to a loud whisper, she heard, "Kathryn!"
"Here!" she hissed. "I'm down here, fourth cell."
Chakotay's form appeared from the darkness into the gloom around her cell. He sucked in his breath. Besides the obvious indignity of the outfit, her right arm was hanging awkwardly at her side, she had bruises on her legs and torso, and she was very pale and weak. "Kathryn! What have they done to you?"
"Just get me out of here! I think my arm is broken; I can't even move it anymore. I'm too weak to walk. I'm afraid I am not going to be much use in a fight."
Chakotay quickly pulled three transporter enhancers from the pack on his back.
"Who is with you?" she asked quietly.
"It's just me," he said as he worked. "I came in a shuttle while Voyager drew off the patrols. I managed to hide behind the closest moon until I could plan out a way to beam down to the prison. It was too risky to bring a whole security detail. I had a better chance of getting through by myself."
He triangulated the enhancers, placing one in her cell just behind her and the other two on either side of him. He moved as close to her as could with the bars between them and activated the signal. They reappeared in the shuttle craft still hidden from the planet's sensors and patrols. Kathryn immediately collapsed to the deck and groaned as Chakotay went to the helm to get the shuttle under way.
Kathryn's voice stopped him. "Commander, wait!"
He turned to her with a frown. "We have to get you to the Doctor, Captain. Once we are underway, I will get the medical kit and see what I can do, but you have to get to Voyager."
"Are we safe here? At least for a few more minutes?"
"We should be," he answered, confused.
"Then there are two things you have to do for me first," she pleaded, squeezing her eyes shut.
He rushed to her side. "What is it?"
"I need hydration. They only gave me a few sips of water, and the pain from my arm is causing me to sweat, making it worse."
He grabbed the medical kit and found the hypospray. He brushed her hair back from her neck and administered the rehydration compound. It would take a bit for it to start working, but she should regain a little strength as it did. He also brought her some water and held her head up, letting her take a couple of small drinks.
"Not too much or it will make you sick," he said, setting the water down.
"What is the second?" he asked, concern evident in his voice and face.
She raised her head and looked him full in the face. "Get me out of this damned outfit! I am not returning to my own ship dressed like this. I'm sorry, Chakotay. I know I have asked a lot from you over the last four years, and this is probably crossing the line, but I can't do it myself with my arm, and I'm too weak." She had tears in her eyes and was trying to blink them back. "If you have ever had a shred of respect for me, you will get this shit off me!"
"Hey, calm down," he soothed. "It's okay. Of course I will." Chakotay rarely heard Kathryn curse, so he knew she was dead serious. The broken arm and the bruises were bad enough, but the humiliation she must be feeling made him wish he had killed a few more guards while he was in the prison.
He made her ease her head down then went back to the replicator. He turned back to look at her and she looked so small, so helpless, it made his blood boil to see what they had reduced his Captain to. Forget the guards; if he had a photon torpedo right then, he would have blown the whole prison to bits. He took a deep breath instead. "Kathryn, there's no need for you put on a uniform. A medical robe should suffice, and I will have you beamed directly from the shuttle to sick bay."
"I will compromise with you, Commander. Uniform pants and tank top. Please. We can forget the turtle neck, and I'm too hot for the jacket, anyway." She shakily spoke to the replicator, "Computer, one female uniform pants and tank, size 4, and undergarments size small."
Chakotay gathered the stack of clothing and moved back onto the floor beside her. He scanned her with the tricorder from the med kit and was relieved to see that the hydration compound was beginning to work. "I'm afraid the broken bones have caused some nerve damage. That's why you can't move your arm. Your blood pressure is elevated, which would explain why you are hot. There's not much I can do except give you a sedative and something for pain."
"No, no sedative," she insisted. "Just give me something for the pain."
He pressed the hypospray to her neck and gave her a little more water. He waited a minute for the medicine to take effect.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Just get it over with, please," she said through gritted teeth.
Chakotay sat behind her head and gently pulled her torso up onto his legs, her head resting back against his abdomen. He reached over her and unbuttoned the mesh robe, sliding the sleeve very carefully down her injured arm. Luckily because of the loose weave, the garment had some stretch to it and came away without causing too much discomfort before he did the other arm. He reached for the bra from the stack of clothing and pulled the straps just as carefully up onto her shoulders. He reached under her back and felt for the hooks, finally working his fingers around just right to get the clasps fastened. He ran his fingers under the band around to the front to straighten it around her ribs. Without even thinking about it, he used one hand to reach into each side of the bra and push her breast up and over slightly, positioning the fit of the cup.
"How's that?" he asked while pulling the strange robe out from under her.
"It's fine," she answered weakly.
He gathered the tank top into a roll and pulled it over the injured arm first, then over her head where he helped push her other arm through the remaining sleeve. He lifted her slightly so he could unroll the material down her torso and straightened it out. When that was done, he gingerly slid out from under her, cradling her head and neck with his hands as he laid her back on the floor. He moved down to her feet and she pulled her knees up, turning her face away. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, though, and noticed that he was so intent on trying not to hurt her that he didn't even seem to be looking at her. She relaxed then and let her trust in him take over. The utter humiliation she felt at being forced to wear the outfit outweighed that of Chakotay having to dress her like a child.
"Can you lift your hips or do you need me to do it?" he asked.
She lifted up as far as she could, which wasn't much in her weakened state but enough for him to work the ridiculous sheer panties down her hips and off over her legs. He tossed them aside and unfolded the black standard briefs, picking up one foot at a time and slipping it through the legs. He concentrated on not putting additional pressure on the many bruises as he pulled them up her body and over her hips. As he had with the bra, he ran his hand around the waistband to straighten it, then around the bands of each leg to make sure they were not pulled up too far. He followed with the slacks, taking just as much care until he finally had her dressed.
"What about boots?" he asked.
She thought for a second before answering, "No, we'll forego the shoes. We need to get out of here now that I can think beyond that maddening outfit. Which you can airlock, by the way."
He gave her a ghost of smile before it disappeared again in the storm of his anger. He recycled the material in the replicator on his way to the helm. He planned to spend extra time thanking his Spirits for not letting them be detected as they left the relative safety of the moon and set a course back to Voyager. When they had travelled far enough to be out of immediate danger, he checked the sensors one more time and then moved back to where Kathryn was still lying on the floor. He noticed that even though she was wearing a lot more clothing, she was starting to shiver. He found a blanket in the storage compartment and then scanned her with the tricorder again.
"Your temperature has dropped, Kathryn, to a dangerous level. I have to get you warmed up."
She nodded her head, her lips trembling.
He lay beside her and gently rolled her onto her good arm, careful to stabilize the injured one against her side. She groaned once, but then settled into shivering again. He wrapped his body as close as he could against hers and pulled the blanket over them. After a couple of minutes, her tremors slowed and she felt warmer. He stayed with her a while longer to make sure she continued to warm up before slipping out from under the blanket and methodically tucking it around her.
Just as Chakotay stood up, he heard the beep alerting him they were approaching the ship. "Chakotay to Voyager," he hailed.
"Yes, Commander," Tuvok answered.
"I have the Captain, but she is injured. As soon as we are in range, lock on to my com badge and beam her directly to sickbay. I will bring the shuttle in."
"Understood, Commander."
Chakotay went back to Kathryn and transferred his com badge to her tank top. He placed his hand on her cheek. She did not seem to be overly hot or cold at the moment, and she was still alert, though barely. "We're almost there, Kathryn," he told her softly. "Just a little farther until we are in transporter range."
The corners of her mouth softened, but she was too weak to smile more than that. She wanted to tell him thank you, but her voice wouldn't work. Instead, she blinked her eyes deliberately twice at him. He kept his hand on her cheek for another few seconds, then returned to the helm.
Tuvok's voice came over the com about five minutes later. "You are in range, Commander. Transporters are standing by for the Captain."
"She's ready. Alert the Doctor she is severely dehydrated and has a broken arm. He can figure out the rest. As soon as my shuttle is docked, set course away from Carlaxan space at Warp 8."
"Understood, Commander."
Chakotay turned to watch as Kathryn dematerialized from the shuttle. He wanted to scream, to rage, to punch the bulkhead; instead, he gritted his teeth and concentrated on getting to Voyager and the shuttle bay so they could get the hell away from the planet and never look back.
He used the shuttle's com to call the bridge as soon as the shuttle bay doors closed behind him. "Chakotay to the bridge. Engage engines, Mr. Tuvok. Run continuous sweeps on all sensors until we are out of their space. I will be in sick bay."
"Acknowledged, Commander," Tuvok answered calmly.
Chakotay wished at that moment that he had some of the Vulcan's emotional detachment. He walked swiftly from the shuttle bay to sick bay, fighting the urge to break into a run the whole way. The Doctor was still working on the Captain when he arrived, but she appeared to be resting peacefully. Chakotay waited with hands and jaw clenching and unclenching until the Doctor was finished, and followed him into his office.
"Tell me one thing, Doctor," he growled, his voice seething. "Was she sexually assaulted?"
"Commander," the Doctor said with a frown. "You know I can't tell you that. It would be a breach of doctor - patient privilege."
Chakotay slammed his hands down on the Doctor's desk, startling him. "Don't give me that, Doctor! If you had seen what…" He stopped himself from telling the Doctor what she had been wearing, that he had to redress her before she would return to the ship, knowing it would humiliate her even more. His arms were shaking where he was leaning on the desk and his eyes were almost black with rage. "If you had seen what I saw in that prison, you would know why I am asking. So I ask you again. Was. she. raped?"
The Doctor glared at Chakotay for several seconds before finally taking pity on him. "No, Commander," he said quietly. "I found no evidence of sexual assault."
Chakotay collapsed into the chair beside him. He had been almost certain Kathryn had been raped because along with the bruises, he could think of no reason other than the obvious for why they had dressed her the way they did. His terror now alleviated, he only felt like crying and had to blink back tears. "Thank you, Doctor," he whispered.