"A year." Kathryn Janeway, former Captain of the Starship Voyager, whispered to the small, big eared, furry, creature sitting at her feet as she stared out the dirty window at the over crowded, bustling, city below. "A whole year." She shook her head as a sad sigh escaped her lips. "What do you think, Rio? Should we drink the night away or..." She paused, tilting her head to the side trying to think of something else to do on the anniversary of her exile, her abandonment, by her own crew. "Drinking it is!" Her voice went from somber to joyous in a matter of moments, not an unusual occurrence for her. Mood swings was just another part of her life since arriving on Hell Hole, her personal name for Artius, the planet she had been left on by her loyal crew. "Loyal my ass." She grumbled as she sat down on the bed and removed a small silver flask from her broken down bedside table. Unscrewing the top, she placed it to her lips and downed the bitter liquid in two, solid, gulps. "That's more like it."

Rio, or Riok-Teyx, eyed his mistress with a pity filled gaze. Whining softly, he hopped up onto the bed beside her and laid his scruffy head on her leg. At first being bonded to this sad woman had been difficult for Rio. Her change in mood and erratic behavior scared him but he owed her for saving his life. He had little doubt that the woman knew nothing of their bond and just viewed him as a pet, whatever that was, but he didn't mind. It was easier if a Protector's Protected didn't know about their connection to each other.

Kathryn sighed and ran a hand through her grimy hair, having run out of water credits some three months prior. At first it had been a hardship, not being able to bath, but as the days passed, so did her urge to actually clean herself. At least this way, dirty, sweaty, grimy, she fit in better amongst the locals. Glancing at the small device, embedded in her wrist, she sighed again. "Well, I have two hours before my shift so we better get adrinkin' my furry friend." Unconsciously, her hand began to move through Rio's stiff, bristly, fur. "You're not going to let me up, are you?" A smile touched her lips as she eyed her companion of eleven months. "You're too sweet for your own good or mine for that matter." Her fingers moved to a long, jagged, scar that stretched the top of the Rio's head. "I should have killed the bastard." She grumbled then shook her head. "But you wouldn't let me." Blue-grey eyes moved back to her Teyx, the species of her companion or so she had been told. "You always seem to stop me from doing something incredible stupid." Silence stretched for a long minute. "I don't deserve you." Long gone was her joyous mood only to be replaced by bitterness and utter despair. "Or maybe I should have left him kill me?" It wasn't a question to be answer but rather to be posed. "Enough of this!" Grunting, she pushed Rio's head off her leg and stood, pacing back to the window. Darkness was falling and soon the streets would be empty except for the workers heading to the mines and mills that made up the outer rim of the city. "At least I'm a Voron now and not a Norov."

Voron's were the overseers assigned to keep an eye on the mines while the Norov were the workers, the lower class. Being a Voron meant that you survived your time in both the mills and the mines, not a small feat. Out of the more than one hundred thousand Norov, only about one percent advanced to Voron.

Whining again, Rio took his place at his mistresses feet again. All will be well, little one. He thought as he leaned his head against the rough fabric that made up her pant leg. The key is not to give up hope. He'd give comfort whenever he could. When she was distracted like this, it was easier than when she was calm, subdued. If his Protected were aware of their bond, then he could give comfort in a more direct way. But with each passing day, it was getting harder and harder to give comfort and keep her more erratic emotions at bay. He knew that if something didn't change soon, his Protected would cease to be. She'd turn into a shell of her former self, emotionless and adrift. A state she was perilously close to, already. Cheer-up, tomorrow is another day. Maybe your ship will come for you then. But he, like his mistress, had given up any chance at seeing this Starship that she used to speak of so often.

A high pitched whistle, designed so that only the Norov and their Voron overseers could hear it, broke the silence of the night. So caught up in thought, Kathryn didn't even register the passage of time. Blinking, slowly, it took a moment for her to pull herself from her thoughts and get moving. "I miss them." She whispered to her darkened room, Rio the only one hearing her. "Well, I'm off to work." Crossing the room towards the door, she stopped at her night stand and picked up a small crest shaped like an attacking bird, and attached it to her vest in the same spot her communicator once sat. This crest marked her as an Voron and afforded her all rights and privileges associated with that position, which wasn't many. "I'll see you in three passages, Rio." Smiling, she left the room and hurried down the hall towards the stairs. Once outside, she took a moment to breath in the stank, smoke filled air. "Another day, another dular, right Andar?" She asked the small, dark skinned, stocky man that appeared at her side the moment she stepped outside her dwelling. "Join me?" She started to walk towards the mines.

"Aye, Voron Ka, another dular indeed." Andar answered as he fell into step beside her as she moved towards the outer rim of the city. "How is your Teyx?"

Kathryn shook her head. "I swear Rio knows me better than I know myself." Andar was the only other Voron that she was close to. Sure, she was friendly with the others in her mine, but Andar was the only one she considered to be a friend. "What are you going to do after your passages tonight?"

Andar seemed to consider her question before a large grin threatened to split his large, knobbly, head in two. "I intend to spent this days dular on much needed...entertainment." His grin turned into a smirk. "You should join me, you'd enjoy yourself, Ka."

"Entertainment?" Kathryn raised her eyebrow then laughed. "I'm sure I would, Andar. You heading to the Crawl?"

"Is there anyplace else for us Voron to go?" Andar asked. "The other establishments will be filled with Norov." He shuttered at the thought of having to interact with the lower class anywhere except at work.

Kathryn found herself nodding and sharing his sentiment. At first she couldn't understand the dislike between the two groups but over time she slowly came to realize that the dislike was well founded. The Norov were nothing but animals while the Voron were a little more cultured and well behaved. "Maybe I'll take you up on the offer, Andar. I could use a little entertainment, myself."

Andar raised his big bushy eyebrows. "Then I will meet you at the Crawl after our passages." With the plans laid out, he separated from his friend and headed for his station. On his way, he pushed a slow moving Norov out of his path, causing the younger man to stumble and fall. "Worthless swine!" He bellowed when he noticed that the man didn't get up. Removing a small club like object from his belt, he pointed it at the fallen man. "Get up or forfeit your worthless life!" He bellowed as a crowd of Norov began to form around him.

"This isn't a teleplay!" Kathryn yelled as she pushed through the crowd, trying to get them to return to their duties. Once she had reached her friend, she turned to face the crowd, removing her own club. "I said, this isn't a teleplay!" Her voice dropped to a quiet growl as she slammed the club against the palm of her hand. "Leave now or I will kill him myself!" She turned towards the fallen man and watched out of the corner of her eye as the crowd hurried away. Sighing, she stared down her nose at the dirty, filthy, pile of rags, posing as a humanoid, laying on the ground. "I'll handle this, Andar. Go man your station."

"Aye, Voron Ka." Andar turned on his heels and entered his assigned mineshaft. He knew the man would not escape punishment.

Kathryn felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end when she saw the top of a blonde head poke out of the rags. Swallowing, she took a step back. "Stand up!" She commanded and waited. "What is your name and duty, Norov?!" She demanded when the man didn't answer her immediately.

The fallen man grunted but easily pushed himself to his feet, adjusting his outfit, if it could even be called that. "Cullym, Hauler." He finally answered, gruffly.

Pulling her hand back, she used her club to hit the man across the face for failing to address her properly. "You will address me as, Voron, Norov!" She barked and lowered her hand. "Now, try again!"

"Cullym, Hauler, Voron!" The young man barked out, copying her tone of voice. He fought the urge to wipe away the blood from his split lip and could only imagine the bruise he was going to have on his cheek.

Kathryn eyed the man. "Cullym isn't an Artian name. What ship did you come in on?"

"Ship, Voron?" Cullym was beginning to sweat. This wasn't going according to plan.

"I know you." Kathryn whispered as she peered at the dirty face peaking out of the face covering. Face coverings were worn by native Artian males and signified their status within the lower class. And if she knew her Artian culture, the man standing before her had a face covering of a high standing family. "Are you an outsider?"

Cullym mentally groaned and shook his head. "No, Voron." What was with this lady? "As I said before, I am a Hauler."

Kathryn's face and eyes hardened. "You're lying to me, Norov. I am well within my rights to take your life as payment for the lie. So tell me the truth or I will kill you."

"Alright." Cullym held up his dirty hands in surrender. "My name is Tom Paris and I'm with the Starship Voyager. I'm here looking for...a friend. My Captain actually. Think you could help me, Voron?" His voice took on a sarcastic edge.

"Voyager?" Kathryn whispered before grabbing Cullym or rather Tom by the arm and dragging him towards the small building she used to oversee the mine. Flicking on the light, she pushed him inside and shut the door, making sure it locked. "Tom?"

Tom nodded and blinked at the change in lighting. "Yup, that's my name. So, do you think you could help me find my Captain?"

Kathryn eyed the man, suspiciously. It was obvious that he didn't recognize her and for now she'd use that to her advantage. "So you are not a Norov?" She asked with narrowed eyes.

"Eh, no. Actually..." Tom rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't really know what a Norov is...or a Voron for that matter. We've been studying this planet for several months now and we still haven't learned anything." He gave the woman a sheepish look. "We can offer payment for your help."

"What if your Captain doesn't wish to be found, Tom Paris of Voyager? Or what if she is dead? This planet isn't very hospitable to outsiders." Kathryn asked as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall.

Tom frowned and removed the face covering, tucking it into the folds of his clothes. Wiping away the sweat from his face, he eyed his potential captor or savior, it could go either way. "I..." He sighed. "Will you help me or not?" Frustration leaked into his voice.

Kathryn turned away from Tom and took a moment to survey the monitors mounted on the wall opposite her. "I will be at the Crawl after my passages." She finally said as she focused back on him.

"The Crawl, what's that? Passages?" Tom was confused and it clearly showed on his face. "Explain." He asked in a hushed voice.

"Very well." Kathryn marched up to him and showed him the device embedded in the flesh of her wrist. "There are three passages...shifts...in a day. As a Voron, I am expected to work all three passages." She motioned to the monitors. "And as head Voron, I am expected to monitor and look out for the workers or Norov." She was silent for a moment. "The Crawl is a Voron...entertainment establishment. Better?"

Tom grimaced when he saw the device sunk into the skin of the womans wrist. "Much, thank you?" He wanted to know her name.

Kathryn tilted her head to the side. "Voron Ka or Ka, if you prefer." Her eyes darted back to the monitors, looking for any sign of trouble. "Tell me more of your Captain, how did she get here?" She moved over to the lone chair that sat in the middle of the room and sat down so she could talk and watch the monitors at the same time.

"Our Commander was...ill at the time. An alien took over his body and mind without our knowing it. He slowly became...different...from what we were used to. Finally, he staged a mutiny onboard our ship, which failed. Upon his failure, he captured the Captain and beamed her onto this planet, which we happened to be orbiting at the time. He took command of the ship and ordered us to leave. There was nothing we could do but follow his orders." A helplessness overwhelmed him as the memories of that day, exactly a year ago, surfaced. "Six months ago he ordered us to attack a convoy and during the battle, the Commander was killed, along with the alien presence. We didn't find out about the alien until the Doctor told us. Soon after that we turned the ship around and came back here to search for our Captain. For months we've been scanning the planets surface but we can't find her so I was asked to come down and look around. The rest of the story you already know."

"Yes, you got in Andar's way and I saved you. You're life, by our laws, is mine." Kathryn explained then smiled. "But I will not ask for payment now, I will wait until you have found your lost crewman. Acceptable?"

Tom nodded, quickly. "Very acceptable, Ka." He took a moment to look at the monitors and raised an eyebrow. "So you're the big cheese, aye? How many ...Norov do you have working for you?"

Kathryn shook her head and followed his line of sight. "I have over ten thousand Norov in my mine. And I am overseer of thirty smaller operations. So altogether I have about thirty thousand Norov working for me."

"Really? So many? How can you keep track of them all?" Tom couldn't imagine keeping track of thirty thousand people, let alone workers.

"The same way I used to be tracked." Kathryn tapped her wrist. "Each device is hooked up to a processor. If a Norov isn't doing what he or she is supposed to...I can correct it with a push of a button. And if a device stops transmitting data, I know that that Norov needs replaced."

Tom blinked. "You used to be a Norov then?"

Kathryn nodded once. "Of course, how else do you think someone becomes a Voron? You earn the position once you have survived passages in both the mines and the mills. Not many make it." She admitted with an air of indifference. "Enough about me, meet me at the Crawl after my passages and I'll try to help you locate your Captain." She focused back on the monitors just as a beep caught her attention. Leaning forward, she pushed a button off to her left and smirked with satisfaction as the beeping ceased. "One more thing, Tom Paris of Voyager, I suggest you find an outfit of a Voron to wear, wearing what you have on into the Crawl will get you killed." She threw over her shoulder without turning around.

Feeling as if he had been dismissed, Tom turned, unlocked the door and disappeared into the night where he felt the familiar tingling of the transporter surround him.