Equivalence
A/N: Hello again, everyone! Here's my latest work, which I did for the VAMB 2014 Secret Summer exchange. This is for quantumsilver, who asked for "An away mission gone awry. Someone unusual trying to look on the bright side of things. Extra points for mentioning Kashyk, whips, and butter sauce."
For reference, this is set prior to the episode "Investigations" in season 2.
Thanks to Uroborus75 for the beta work.
Also, this story does contain some substance abuse, incarceration and mild sexual content.
Disclaimer: This world is sadly not my own, I just like dropping in from time to time.
This was not how she had pictured the away mission ending.
She blinked a few times, glancing left and right at her surroundings. Dark, bleak walls and equally dim lights were suspended in the ceiling above her. A single opening behind her yielded the entrance and only exit. The cell was small, albeit large enough for two people—as evidenced by her present company.
A figure whom she suspected was male lay curled against the wall on the bunk to her left. Their back was turned, so she couldn't get a glimpse of their face. They were dressed in dark clothes with a smattering of holes ripped across their shoulders. Their legs were tucked up in front of them, curled against the wall and away from exposure. The quiet sigh of their breath hinted that they were asleep, or acting as much.
She rose and walked over to the bunk on her right, noting the dark splotches that she knew better than to investigate. The wall was tattooed with scratches and other markings, a visceral storybook of previous captives that the present ones were able to read with chilling understanding. Janeway felt a shiver rush across her skin, raising the hairs on her neck as she ran a nimble finger across one of the gouges. Its edges were smooth, but the cut was deep.
What have you gotten yourself into now, Kathryn?
Her morning had begun with simple preparations for an away mission, consisting of the recovery of Dilithium supplies from the Dolman system, an endeavour which had already required several negotiations with the Dolmans. The Dolmans had allowed them into the system on the sole condition that Janeway accompany the team. Naturally, she had accepted.
It was during the excavation that things went awry, beginning with a firefight in the tunnels after communications with the shuttle were jammed. She had taken a blow... well, somewhere, and ended up in the cell. Was it even the same planet? Hell, the same solar system? Tuvok had been with her on the planet alongside another security officer, Tom remaining on the shuttle to monitor the supply transfer.
The attack had come so quickly. What had happened to them? Did they make it back to Voyager, or were they in another cell just like hers?
The lights above her flickered, peppering the cell in brief constellations of light. Kathryn turned her head, a loose strand of hair falling over her shoulder. Footsteps drummed gently in the distance, building with the subtle scuff of boots on ground as they drew near. Kathryn watched two guards march past the cell in side-by-side formation, every step in sync with the other. They were dressed in black and their faces were hidden by some sort of cloak. They appeared to be armed.
She resolved to sitting on the edge of her bunk, loose wisps of hair dangling over her eyes as she grasped the edge of the bunk. Waiting was not a preferred pastime of hers, especially when it involved being locked away. She wanted to know why she was being held, and more importantly, who was holding her.
She reached a hand up to her neck, running her fingers along her hairline before drifting down to her collar. When her thumb ran over the fabric at her throat, she found that her pips were missing. The loss of her Combadge was no surprise, but this, on the other hand, was. What would they need her pips for?
Scuffled footsteps halted at the cell entrance, drawing her attention to the doorway. Two guards stood, one by the side and another across the narrow hall. The one closest to the door reached their hand off to the side, entering what Janeway supposed were key codes. A bristling flash washed out from the sides of the door as the force field was deactivated. The guard stepped through and motioned at her.
"You, come."
She stood and paced to the door. Just as she was about to cross the threshold, the guard grabbed her and placed a firm hand over her mouth. Janeway grabbed at their arms, nails digging into the fabric of their uniform. She tried to bite their hand, but their gloves were too thick. An elbow found its way to her ribs and she yelped in pain, her arms falling away. The guard let go of her shoulders and she nearly fell over as she tried to find air. But her relief was only momentary as darkness settled in over her eyes, a newfound fabric pressing taut against them.
There was a subtle but strong nudge against her lower back that unsettled her balance, but she took a step forward anyways. She found the lip of the cell with the front of her boot, carefully stepping over it before the other guard took her arm.
"Follow me." Its voice was deep and muffled, as if it had just spoken from a void.
She had no other option but to be blindly led down the corridor, where a sharp tug at her elbow signalled a turn in their path or a prompt to step over something. A few times she heard the echoes of machinery, drowned either by distance or design. Once she heard a cry, loud and reverberating from the precipice of whatever doom preceded it.
The endpoint of their trek was situated behind a door on hinges that creaked loudly as it opened. She was led in and guided to a chair before they removed her blindfold. The chair was one of a few pieces of furniture in the room, the others being the larger desk and chair set across from her, separated by an ocean of smooth, black floor. The lights were dim, save for the few that hovered over her and the desk. The air felt thick, almost moist, and it seeped into her uniform and skin with chilling ease.
Another door opened, this one shrouded by silence. The only sign that it had opened was the stretch of light that peeled away some of the darkness in the room for a brief moment. When it was gone, she was not alone in the room. A figure strode toward the desk, placing a single three-digit hand on the head of the chair.
"Captain Kathryn Janeway, I presume." They stepped into full view, and Janeway's mouth went dry. "Welcome. We're so pleased to have you here."
The figure was tall and lithe, with broad shoulders and pale purple skin. Her voice revealed that she was female, along with the hint of breasts beneath her uniform, which was a black suit that clung loosely to her body. A shock of blue hair drifted over one side of her face, which was round and had three eyes. What unnerved Janeway were the teeth, which jutted like glinting knives from her mouth.
Janeway swallowed, squaring her shoulders. "Who are you? Why am I being held hostage?"
The woman sat down in the chair and folded her hands neatly in front of her. "My name is Malock. I'm a monitor at this facility."
"Is that what you call it?"
"You should be grateful you're not dead," Malock replied tersely, running a green tongue over her teeth. "We do not always hold everyone that comes into our facility. Only a few are granted that privilege."
Janeway's brow furrowed. "I'd hardly call captivity a privilege."
Malock's tone was one of dismissal. "Call it what you wish. It's not relevant to this discussion. You and your companions were seeking out Dilithium in the Dolman system when you came under attack. You have had no contact with them since."
Janeway gave a shallow nod. "That's correct."
Malock folded her hands in front of her and leaned forward across the deck, her long neck inching her face closer to Janeway's. "Would you like to contact them?"
Janeway almost spat in her face. The bribe was dripping in tainted promise that made her morning coffee rise in her throat. The rest of the team were either dead, or had escaped. Hopefully.
"My crew is perfectly capable of looking after themselves. I'm sure that whatever fate befalls me will have no impact on that."
Malock's expression flamed at her reply, her skin visibly darkening. She opened a drawer on the side of the desk, reaching in and pulling something out. She dropped a piece of metal onto the table before her. It was gray with blackness curling around the burnt edges. Two red lines ran straight across its surface, just below the beginning of a registry number. It was Starfleet.
Janeway's first reaction was to write it off as a fake or a piece of debris that came off in the attack, but another part of her wondered if perhaps there was more out in space than the piece that Malock had presented before her.
"Your shuttle was destroyed. We rescued your crew and yourself and brought you here. Your crew are also being housed in a facility."
Janeway stood, raising the attention of the guards at the edges of the room. Malock held up a hand, staying them for a moment.
"If my crew is here," said Janeway, "then I will see them, now."
Malock scowled. "I said that they were in a facility, not this one. Rest assured, Kathryn, that they are also being looked after."
Janeway took a few steps towards Malock's desk, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "What do you want from us? We're explorers from halfway across the galaxy, not mercenaries or thieves!"
Malock smirked, a slight chuckle rumbling behind her pursed lips. "It's not what you've done that concerns me, Kathryn, but what you can do for us."
Janeway raised an eyebrow, loosening her clenched fists and crossing her arms. "And just what might I be able to do for you?"
Malock's response was to stand from her chair and summon the guards from the edge of the room. "You'll know in time. For now, I'm sure you could use some rest and nourishment. The cooks do make a delightful whipped butter sauce." Malock said the last few words with a smile that made Janeway's skin crawl.
Two guards came up to her, each one grabbing her by an arm before pushing her toward the door. One of them took out a strip of dark fabric and Janeway knew she was about to be blindfolded again. The guard swiftly draped it over her eyes and tied it, rendering her blind once more.
When the blindfold was whisked away, Janeway was back in her cell. The lights were dimmed and the sleeping man remained motionless on his bunk. The clatter of metal caught Janeway's attention and shifted it to the cell door, where two guards placed metal trays on the floor, one for each of the cell's occupants. She made no move to touch hers on the immediate suspicion of poison, and instead looked to the guards.
"Why are your people holding mine prisoner? What do you want from us?"
Their swift exit from her cell stood in lieu of a reply. The crackle of the force field being reinitialized was the last sound that met her ears before they stomped off, leaving her wanting for answers more than whatever was hidden under the top of that tray.
The man on the bench stirred, like a dark wave curling over the horizon's edge. She watched his shoulders shift, her own breath trapped in the cage of her ribs as he turned onto his back. He was essentially humanoid save for the distinct brow ridges. He opened his eyes slowly, head listing to the edge of his bunk.
He saw the tray before he noticed her.
He nearly flipped off the bunk, reaching for one of the trays with a fury that she would expect from a starved man. Yet judging by the lack of sallowness in his features, he was far from it. He flipped the top of the tray off like it was paper and smiled at its contents, none of which looked even remotely appealing to Janeway's eye. His expression was altogether different; he was almost gleeful to see the food, driven by something greater than hunger.
It was when he noticed the second tray that his eyes turned to Janeway.
He quickly dragged his tray away, hunching over it while he sat back on his bunk. "Who are you?"
She held up a hand slowly. "Kathryn Janeway."
He gave her a blank stare.
"Fellow prisoner," she added dryly.
He raised his brow, scrunching his facial ridges. "Ah, so they caught you in their web, too? Not surprising."
"What makes you say that?"
He took a bite of what Janeway could only guess was a crude type of bread. "They always bring in new ones. On a regular basis, too. Never the same species twice. They can't have that. Oddly enough, they keep us fed. An exception I don't mind." He noticed her untouched tray. "You should eat. It's not half bad. The whipped butter sauce is surprisingly good."
She shook her head. "I'm not hungry."
The man shrugged and continued eating.
Janeway leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees and placing one hand beneath her chin. "So what's your story?"
He looked up from his tray briefly, a slight look of surprise on his face. "My story? Afraid there isn't much of one. Much like you and the others here, I was captured while on a scouting mission for supplies. My ship came under attack and the next thing I knew I was here, and I don't have a single clue as to what happened to my ship or crew."
She pursed her lips. "How did you know my story was the same as yours?"
He had a piece of dripping bread halfway to his mouth at that point, but he smiled when she asked. "Good guess I suppose." Then stuffed the bread into his mouth.
She leaned back on her bunk, squaring her shoulders. This man's reactions were a little too enthused for someone that had been locked in a cell for god knows how long. She eyed the tray at her feet and his nearly finished one, knowing that she would not be eating a single thing from hers.
"Do you know why they're holding us?"
He licked his fingers, his lips making a slight pop with each one. "Not really. Aside from the fact that this seems like Malock's pet project and that the guards are as silent as the walls that surround us. I know you want answers, Kathryn, but you aren't going to get any."
She sat up, her shoulders tensing. "I refuse to accept that."
He shrugged. "So be it."
"What's your name?" She asked.
"Hmm?" he replied between slurps of a soupy substance that she tried to ignore.
"You know my name. Seems only fair to exchange the courtesy."
"Kashyk," he replied. "My name is Kashyk."