When Kirk came to, he realized that this was not his bed, nor was it a bed of any kind. He kept his eyes closed as he documented his surroundings, the many experiences of being captured previously helping him know what to do. He was being held painfully upright by chains that were attached to the ceiling, putting strain on his shoulders. He quickly found his footing though he had to stand on his tippy toes to be able to reach and alleviate the stress. There was no sound of wind blowing in or out of the area, but a slight breeze tickled his stomach and face. The pungent odor of iron clogged his nose, telling him that this place was covered in long-since dried blood. He could hear the clanks of other chains as well and realized that he was not the only one that had been taken. He remembered telling the Beta shift pilot to get the ship the hell out of there and wait for his message before trying anything.

When the captain opened his eyes he saw exactly what he feared: Commander Spock, Lieutenants Uhura and Sulu, Ensign Chekov, and Lieutenant Commanders Scott and McCoy (the latter was also a doctor) were all in similar positions, though they were slumped on the ground. Most were in the process of regaining consciousness. "Is everybody up?" Kirk asked gently, not favorable to the idea that he might alert their captors.

Once he heard the affirmative from all of his crew mates he sighed, realizing that none of them were injured (aside from the strain on his shoulders, but he wasn't going to mention that). "Captain, have you any idea what circumstances led to this unfavorable outcome?" Spock queried.

"Honestly, Spock, I have no idea. Last thing I remember we were on our way to the Laurentian system and then the whole ship was beamed onto a field. I barely said anything before we were all beamed and then promptly gassed upon arrival. Anybody have any ideas on how to escape?"

Before that discussion could get any further, the door to their cell swung open and the lights blazed on. A tall, lithe man entered the cell with a manic grin lighting up his angular face. Behind him trailed a woman with auburn hair and a stony expression. The man looked at each of them before clearing his throat, "Morning, gentlemen, lady. Let's get down to business. Your ship has something I need, and I want you, Captain Kirk, to recall the ship so that I can take that part. Okay?"

Kirk laughed, "You're crazy, and I will do no such thing. Why don't you let us go before the whole 'Fleet cracks down on your ass."

"I'm afraid that you are far out of reach of your dear Federation, so no help will be coming. Of course, you could always make it so that you do not need that help by giving me the access codes to the Enterprise and allowing me the part I need."

"Nope," Kirk sounded smug, but he was actually quite worried. Not for himself, no, he knew he could handle most anything they threw at him, but his crew could not. They could probably handle more than the average civilian, but he didn't want them to have to handle even that much.

The man looked disappointed, but his tone showed his happiness at the answer, "Very well then, I suppose I have no choice. Arvada, I think you know what to do. I'll leave you to it." The man turned on his heel and left the room, leaving them with the woman. She whistled and two security guards joined her as she took Kirk down from the chains, immediately cuffing his wrists behind his back.

"Now wait just a minute, lady, what exactly are you doing!" Bones growled, straining against his bonds. Kirk offered him a minuet smile of reassurance, but it did nothing other than the opposite of its purpose.

"Let him go!" Uhura yelled. All of the crew was straining against the chains that prevented them from going to their friend's aid.

The woman offered no words and didn't even acknowledge them. Instead, she led the captain out the door, the two guards closing it behind them. Kirk's friends watched helplessly, struggling fruitlessly to escape and help.

Just a friendly little line break... going about their business... do-do-do... :)

As the woman marched them down the hall and into a room, Kirk grinned cheekily, "Usually I'm on a bed when the handcuffs come out. And you could at least let me take you to dinner first."

If the woman heard him, she gave no sign. Instead, she chained him to the ceiling again, this time with his feet only a little closer to the ground. She made sure he was secure before nodding to the security people, who were dressed in a clichéd black outfit. They left the room and stood outside. The captain watched as the woman—Arvada—grabbed a whip that had multiple tendrils, all with tiny barbs attached to give maximum damaged. She grabbed a dagger and tore his shirt off, not bothering to watch the skin, which gave him several bleeding lacerations.

"Give us the security codes to the Enterprise," she demanded.

"Screw you," Kirk spat. The woman stood behind him and raised her arm, snapping it down with the whip following. Kirk's back exploded in pain, but he managed to dissociate from it. She paused, as though to wait for his answer, "James T. Kirk, Captain—" she whipped him again. "Captain of the Federation starship U.S.S. Enterprise—" another crack of the whip and his back was torn open even more. "Serial number Sierra-Charlie-nine-three—" Another lash. "seven-dash-zero-one-seven-Charlie-Echo-Charlie—" She lashed him again and he started from the top.

This went on for a while, and Kirk used the continued mantra to help dissociate from the pain. While it wasn't the worst he had had, it was still very unpleasant. He lost count around twenty, but he figured it was somewhere around thirty lashes when she stopped. His back was torn to shreds and was bleeding in pools on the ground. The woman went back to her table of tools and set down the whip. She looked at him, "One more chance, tell me the security codes to your starship."

"Piss off," Kirk gasped. The woman grinned with a feral craze and picked up a knife. The next thing Kirk knew, said knife was buried in his leg. Just looking at it he knew that it had only severed a few muscles, nothing important like an artery, but it still hurt like a bitch. The unexpectedness caused the captain to cry out loudly in surprise rather than pain. The woman smirked, showing him the first sign of emotion during the entire experience. She turned and walked out of the room, leaving him hanging—quite literally, too.

Kirk gasped when he attempted to put any pressure on the leg, and decided it had been foolish to even try. He was surprised when a meek looking person in a Pikachu hoodie came and stood behind him. He tensed, prepared for another beating, but realized that the uncomfortable sensation was not that of a torture device (though when with Bones after one of the many failed away missions one could argue differently), rather a dermal regenerator. He felt his back scab over and heal half of the rest of the way, but Pikachu-hoodie stopped before it was complete. They moved to his leg and yanked out the knife, not listening to his sharp intake of breath, and did the same, only allowing it to heal about three quarters of the way.

The whole time they were there, they said nothing. Immediately after finishing they left before Kirk could ask any questions. He looked around the room and then up at his restraints, attempting to ascertain any possible routes of escape. To his disappointment he realized he could not find any. His head sagged slightly as he allowed himself a moment's reprieve from the pain, attempting to regain his thoughts. As long as he was the one taking the beating he was fine. It was when the leader would inevitably get impatient and attempt to break him by harming a member of his crew that he worried about. He knew he wouldn't be able to fight against that.

With that in mind, he steeled himself for what was to come and began the long wait until morning.

Bystander: Oh look! Another line break! Other Bystander: What do you mean?! Wasn't there one just a little bit ago!

The crew waited in tense silence after their captain and friend had been led off. The winced when they heard the crack of a whip. When they heard it again they began to scream and shout profanities at those guarding them, yanking against their bonds and aggravating their wrists. Spock tugged and realized that though they had attempted to make the chains Vulcan-proof, it would only take him a day or two more to break through the chains, and an even shorter amount of time for the others since he felt they would have only prepared the stronger chains for himself, despite the illogical assumption.

With every crack! and snap! of the whip they waited with bated breath to hear their captain cry out. However, to the surprise of most everyone except McCoy, they were startled and slightly scared to have not heard any sort of response from the man. It seemed, however, that they had thought too soon, as no more than a couple of minutes later a muted shout echoed through the hallway toward them. This made them struggle even more. "We need ta save the Cap'n," Scotty gasped.

"I concur." Spock was still tugging little by little. "Within approximately one point two more days I should be able to sever my restraints, and then break yours. After that we must locate our supplies and then escape."

"Good, 'cause when we get out I'm going to raze this place to the ground," Uhura growled. Her eyes were watering in sympathy for her captain.

"I also believe that we must all rest so that we are strong enough to offer assistance to the captain when the time arrives. I will take first watch while you all attempt to obtain rest."

McCoy looked like he was going to protest, but then realized that the hobgoblin was right. With a small amount of grumbling he sat back against the cell walls and closed his eyes. It took a while, but sleep finally came for him and the rest of the crew.

Alright, that was the next chapter. I hope you all liked it, because it was fun to write. How am I doing so far? Let me know by leaving a review and maybe... Oh, I don't know? Am I deserving enough to ask for a favorite/follow yet? *rubs chin philosophically*