STONE COLD
The moon was a vast expanse of white nothingness. Snow stretched in every direction, and although it already covered the ground, it continued to fall, accumulating inches by the hour. In the distance, snow-capped peaks towered above the white plains. They rose into the sky until they disappeared completely into grey clouds that seemed to hover constantly above the surface, just obscuring the mountain peaks. An occasional tree broke the monotony of the white landscape, its green top peeking out of the snow as if in greeting to any passing life form. There were a few dilapidated structures in the distance, but there was no sign of life. Towards the mountain range, rocks and hills began to roll across the landscape, but there was no sign of life there either.
Neelix looked around himself, trying to understand the events that had led him to be standing on this barren plain in the snow. He now had a choice; he could approach the hills, hoping to find shelter in a cave, or he could set out towards what appeared to be some sort of alien-built structures. He doubted that he would find companionship in either place, but he decided that a cave was more likely to provide warmth than an old lean-to, so he set out in the direction of the hills.
He had no coat, and no boots, and his fingers and toes had begun to grow numb. As he trudged through the snow, he felt it becoming caked onto the legs of his pants, and as it fell, it accumulated on his shoulders. His first order of business was to find somewhere dry to make a fire. He had already tried his communicator. Either the other members of Voyager's crew had been deposited on some other planet, or their communicators didn't work in this atmosphere. Either way, Neelix had to adjust to the fact that he was on his own. Oh well, he thought. It's certainly not the first time.
This day had started out like any other day on Voyager. He had cooked and served breakfast, greeting the crew members as they came into the mess hall. He had taken his weekly inventory of their food supplies and submitted his report to Commander Chakotay. Then, Captain Janeway had summoned him to the bridge for first contact with a species called the Duar.
The Duar had seemed friendly, at first. They had invited the Captain and Commander Chakotay to share a meal with them aboard their vessel. Neelix, in his official capacity as ambassador, had joined them. They had been having some trouble with their engines, and Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Paris had beamed aboard to assist them. Meanwhile, several Daur crew members had beamed to Voyager for a tour given to them by Ensign Kim.
But, unbeknownst to the Voyager crew aboard the Duar vessel, more Duar had beamed to Voyager than expected. And by the time he, the Captain and the Commander had finished their meal, they were prisoners aboard the Duar ship. The Duar captain had thanked Captain Janeway profusely for having given them such a wonderful gift: the starship Voyager. The last time Neelix had seen Captain Janeway, she was being manhandled by two Duar crewmen; she, Chakotay and Neelix had each been dragged off to a separate cell aboard the Duar vessel. He had no idea what had happened to B'Elanna and Tom, or the crew which still remained aboard Voyager. After spending an hour or two in the Duar cell, Neelix had been dragged to a transporter room and deposited here, in the middle of the snow, with no supplies, no coat, and no idea where in the universe he was.
As he approached the hills, the area was covered with more and more rocks. The snow wasn't coming down as heavily now, and he brushed off his clothes and his hair. This looked like a good area to find shelter. Neelix found a cave that was dry, and he gathered some brush and branches from outside. Most of them were quite damp, and he knew he would have to wait for them to dry before he could build a fire. He set them in the cave and began attempting to warm himself.
...
"B'Elanna!" Tom called. "B'Elanna!" She had to be here somewhere. Unless the Duar had transported them to two separate worlds... but that seemed like a lot of trouble for them to go to. Why would they bother separating them if they were going to be left on such a remote and desolate planet? It wasn't like they would be able to band together and get off the planet without technology. He had tried using his communicator, but it seemed to be useless.
Tom was getting cold. The snow was falling fast, and its cold wetness was soaking through his uniform. He knew that he had to find some shelter, but his first priority was to find B'Elanna. She could be anywhere, he told himself. She could be miles away. It could take him days to find her, or he might not be able to find her at all. That thought created a cold pit in the bottom of his stomach. No, he thought. I will find her. She's here somewhere.
He had been transported to the base of an expansive mountain range. It seemed like it wouldn't be too hard to find a cave that would serve as shelter. He hadn't seen another intelligent being since he had arrived on the planet - he guessed about an hour ago. He had seen a few small rodents scurrying around, and perhaps some insects, but that was all. Hopefully, the rodents could be caught and cooked. Without their communicators, and with Voyager in the hands of the Duar, Tom knew they might be stuck here for a very long time.
Since he had arrived on the planet, he had been wandering around, looking for any trace of B'Elanna. So far, he had found nothing. What would she do? he had asked himself. She would look for shelter in a cave the same way that I would. So he had begun looking for areas that contained caves. So far, he had walked through two such areas, and had seen no sign of Torres. But the mountain range was long, and there were more caves ahead of him. He ignored the cold that bit at his fingers and his face. Soon, he would have to retreat into a cave, to avoid damage to his skin... but not yet.
He reached another cavernous area. "B'Elanna!" he called. "B'Elanna!" The snowfall was slowing slightly, as he peered into a long, dark cavern. "B'Elanna!" His voice echoed back to him, but there was no response. Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him, and he whirled around, ready to face an attacker. But instead of a hostile alien, he found himself looking at a familiar face. "B'Elanna!" he exclaimed.
"Tom, are you all right?" He barely recognized her. Her hair was covered in snow, and he took two swift steps forward and gathered her in a quick hug.
"I'm fine," he said, kissing her quickly on the nose. Then he observed, "You're freezing."
She looked up at his face; his lips were turning blue. "So are you," she retorted. "Come on, I found a cave. There was some dry brush inside and I've been trying to build a fire." She took his hand and led him to the shelter she had discovered.
"Do you have any idea what happened to the rest of the away team?" he asked.
"No. I haven't seen any evidence of anyone else here." She grew angry. "Those damn Duar!"
"Tuvok will find a way to regain control of the ship," Tom said with more confidence than he felt.
"Yeah, if the Duar haven't dropped him off on some ice planet, too."
They reached the cave and Torres led him inside. It wasn't exactly warm, but at least it provided some shelter from the elements. They set to work at starting a fire, and a few moments later, they were huddled around a small blaze. Tom reached over and tenderly brushed the snow out of B'Elanna's hair. As his hand became tangled in her hair, he pulled her face towards his, allowing their lips to meet in a deep kiss. "I'm glad you're okay," he said softly.
"Same." She turned away from him and back to the fire. "Now the question is, what do we do from here?"
...
Chakotay looked at the snow-covered expanse that seemed to stretch in all directions. In the distance, he could see a mountain range, but he could see no sign of civilization either there or in any other direction. The Duar appeared to have dropped him off on an uninhabited planet. Not too far from him, he could see some sort of structure. He set out in its direction to investigate.
He had seen no signs of any other member of the away team. He did not even know if they had been transported to the same planet. The snow was coming down hard, and he knew he had to find shelter. Perhaps, if the snowfall lessened, he would go out in search of other members of Voyager's crew the next day. But night was beginning to fall, and he knew he had to get inside, away from the elements. Besides, this was unfamiliar territory, and he had no idea what kinds of predators might come out at night. The planet didn't seem like it was home to much life at all, but you never knew. As he trudged through the snow, Chakotay shivered. He hoped that the shelter he saw before him would be adequate, and that if it was inhabited, that the inhabitants would be welcoming.
When Chakotay reached the structure, he examined it carefully. There didn't seem to be anyone inside, but he approached cautiously. "Hello," he called. "Is anyone here? I don't want to harm you; I'm just looking for shelter from the snow." There was no response. Hesitantly, he approached the door of the shelter. It appeared to be a living space of some kind - a small cabin, but he heard no signs of life within. He knocked on the wooden door, but there was no response. He reached down to test the handle; it was not locked. The door creaked as he opened it.
Chakotay stepped inside the shelter. It looked like it had been inhabited at one time, but no one had been here for several months; perhaps even a year or two. It contained a single, sparsely furnished room. There was a fireplace on one side, and Chakotay was relieved to see that there was some wood left leaning up against it. Someone had rigged a metal hook that could swing over the fire. A black pot hung on it. The pot was slightly rusted, but looked as though it could be cleaned and used for cooking. A single wooden chair sat near the fire.
In one corner sat a simple bed frame; it appeared to be made of a flat slab of wood, supported by four small posts. Chakotay walked over and tested it with his hand. The makeshift mattress was comprised of a straw-like brush. It certainly wouldn't be comfortable, but he was grateful to have a bed at all. At the foot of the bed sat a wooden trunk. Chakotay opened it cautiously, its hinges creaking as he did so; it was filled with blankets. They smelled of mold, and he picked them up and shook them out, one by one, laying them over the back of the chair. Perhaps if they had a little air, they wouldn't smell quite as bad.
The wall near the door supported four small shelves. Chakotay examined their contents; dried foods and other rations. He regarded each package carefully, discarding those that seemed to be rancid into a bin that sat near the door. He found several packages that appeared to be some sort of soup mix, and he wondered if they would still be edible. There was also bottled liquid and some sort of powdered drink mix. He opened a bottle of the liquid and tried a sip. It appeared to be drinkable, and didn't have much of a taste, but he didn't want to risk drinking too much and making himself sick. He re-capped the bottle and returned it to the shelf. The first order of business was to build a fire. Then, he would try to clean out the pot and see if he could boil some water from the snow. As he set about his tasks, he wondered who this cabin had belonged to and why they had left it, abandoned.
...
"Ensign Kim, your pacing will not help us find a solution to our problem. You are exerting valuable energy which you would be better off conserving."
Harry Kim stopped pacing. Tuvok's logic was undeniable, but didn't the Vulcan understand that he had to do something? And as long as they were stuck in the brig, there was nothing he could do but pace. He sighed and sat down on the bench across from Tuvok, defeated. "All right," he said. "What should we do?"
"At this time, Ensign, we should do nothing," the Vulcan replied.
"But we can't just sit here while the Duar take over the ship."
Tuvok lowered his voice, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the Duar guards who manned the door to the brig. "I do not intend to allow the Duar to maintain control of Voyager, but at the moment, we have no tactical advantage."
Harry looked like he was about to protest again, and Seven of Nine cut in, "Lieutenant Tuvok is correct. At the moment we have no tactical advantage."
"Well, then, we have to come up with one," Harry whispered.
"Agreed," Seven responded.
Harry began to think out loud, keeping his voice low. "As far as we know, all of our crew has been confined to quarters, but none have been killed. We're stuck here, in the brig. If they wanted to kill us, they probably would have done it already, which means they have other plans."
"Perhaps," said Tuvok. "Perhaps they require our assistance to operate Voyager, and after they have learned what they need from us, they do intend to kill us."
"But what do they want with Voyager?" Kim asked.
"Voyager is tactically superior to the Duar's own vessels," Seven replied. "Perhaps they are attempting to acquire superior technology. Knowing our tactical superiority, the Duar could never defeat us in battle. The only way they could acquire our technology was through deception."
"An art at which they seem well-practiced," Tuvok added.
"Indeed," said Seven.
"Can we make use of our technology in a way that the Duar wouldn't anticipate?" Harry asked.
"An interesting idea, Ensign Kim," said Tuvok quietly. "What systems on Voyager would the Duar be unaccustomed to, or tend to ignore?"
"Until we know their true agenda, we may not be able to determine that," Seven answered.
Kim had stood and begun pacing again. It was impossible to keep still in his nervous excitement. Then, he stopped dead in his tracks. Glancing nervously at the Duar guards, he moved closer to Seven and Tuvok, luring them into the corner of the cell. "What about the Doctor?" he asked.
"It is unlikely that the Duar will allow us to speak with him," Tuvok replied.
Seven of Nine got a dangerous gleam in her eye; clearly something had sparked her imagination. "What is it, Seven?" Harry asked, seeing the expression on her face.
"Perhaps it is time that we create a little deception of our own," she said.
...
Warro Greeda, First Captain of the Duar Office of Colonization and Relocation caressed the armrest of his new chair. He looked at the stars streaking past on Voyager's view screen and felt very 'at home.' "How far are we from Duar Prime, Officer Boda?" he asked his helmsman.
"We should reach home in approximately two days, Captain."
"Excellent," Greeda replied. "By then, everything should be prepared." He turned around to another Duar officer, who stood behind him, at the tactical station. "Have all the members of Voyager's crew been confined to their quarters?"
"Yes, sir. All except for the bridge officers and the former Borg. We placed them in the brig."
"Excellent work, Officer. What of the holographic doctor?"
"We have confiscated his mobile device. He is unable to leave sickbay. I've consulted Voyager's database, and I'm certain that if any of our crew is injured, he will have to treat us."
Greeda nodded. "This is all going according to my plan. In no time at all, the Office of Colonization and Relocation will have complete control of Duar Prime." Greeda sat back in his chair, caressing the armrests once again, and laughed quietly to himself.
