Katya was strangely silent. He hadn't been able to make her talk; he'd given up trying a while ago. The halogen lamps had warmed the room a bit, but it was still cold. He could only assume that she was trying to take in all of the information she'd been given. If the information was correct, she was a member of the Imperial family, and it colored everything in her life differently. Her hand was in his again, and once again it comforted him to know she was physically there.

He was trying to think of a plan. How to get them out of here and to someplace safe, anywhere but here. He looked at her at the same moment that she looked up, and they locked eyes. He gave her a smile, and to his surprise, she smiled back and squeezed his hand. The bruises on her cheeks were the only things that made her look like anything other than the friend he was used to seeing.

"I know it's terrible to say this, but I'm glad you're here with me Lucas."

"It's not terrible. I know how you mean that."

"It's cold," she said.

"Yeah," he said, taking her other hand. It was ice cold. "Here, let me warm up your hands. You aren't exactly dressed for cold weather duty," he quipped.

"What, you mean no North Pole exploratory work in a 500 dress?"

He laughed. "That dress cost 500?"

"I guess so? I don't know I just tried on what they gave me."

"Who are they?"

"My mother's designers."

"You don't pick out your own clothes?"

"Not for formal functions," she replied. "I'd go in jeans if they'd let me."

"Now you're talkin'…"

"Lucas, I just thought of something. Didn't you send a text message to the Captain before we left?"

"Yeah on my POC…MY POC!" he cried, reaching into his pocket. Why hadn't he thought of it?

"Do you still have it?" she asked excitedly.

He fumbled around in the deep pockets of his jeans until his hand locked on it. "Yes!" he said, pulling it out.

"We can send them a message and tell them where we are!"

He nodded quickly, excited at the possibility of a way out of here, but that excitement quickly faded. "I can't send anything. There's no signal down here."

"Damn it!"

"I'll try and get one as often as possible. I can't sit here and try until I get it, we have to save the battery and I don't want them to see me with it."

"Right. Keep trying!"

The door was unlocked again and Lucas quickly shoved the POC back into his pocket. He grabbed Katya's wrist and this time she complied by staying close. He felt her muscles tense when the man walked into the room again, but he didn't see even a split second of fear pass over her features.

"Well, isn't this touching? Is he trying to comfort you my dear? Do you really think he can help you?"

"Go to hell," she said angrily.

"Again with the temper! Have you thought about my proposal?"

"I've already told you no!"

"I thought you might have reconsidered after our last little run in. I see that it might take some more…convincing…on my part," he replied nodding in her direction. Instantly one of the other men moved forward and grabbed her, but Lucas didn't let go.

"No!" she cried out as they tried to yank her away. They were gripping wrists, a much more effective hold than just hands.

"Let go of him," the man holding her said.

"I will not!" she screamed as she brought one leg back and kicked him in the groin. The man dropped to his knees like a ton of bricks. Still holding Lucas' wrist, she spun around and kicked him in the face, knocking him out.

"You see! I told you I didn't trust you! Look at what you've done," the ringleader yelled.

Suddenly, the door to Lucas' cell opened and the same man who'd held a gun on him earlier entered. Katya turned to look, and her face went white. The man moved quickly toward Lucas and punched him in the stomach, and in an involuntary reaction, he let go of Katya's wrist and clutched his stomach as he fell to his knees. Katya screamed as he let her go and he reached out for her, but the damage had been done. For good measure, the man gave him a swift kick to the side.

"Lucas!" she cried, grabbing at the bars and trying to hold onto them. She wasn't strong enough and they quickly pulled her away. He again reached out for her desperately but all that met his hand was air.

His door was shut and locked again as he coughed in pain on the floor. She was screaming in fear as they dragged her away, and all he could do was watch through bleary eyes. Slowly, he covered his ears in a desperate attempt to block out the sound of her screams after the door to her cell was shut and she was gone.

-

He awoke to the sound of her door opening; he hadn't realized that he'd fallen asleep. He saw her carried into the room in someone's arms, reminiscent of the way he'd carried her into med bay after she'd faced the demon and won. She was absolutely limp, her coat and shoes gone, her dress dirty. The man carrying her threw her onto the small bed like she was nothing more than a rag doll.

Lucas sat up slightly. "What did you do? What did you do to her?" he choked out, his side killing him.

The man smirked at him and walked out without a word. He crawled over to the bars trying to see her.

"Kat…" he called out as loudly as he could muster. She didn't answer him. As his eyes focused, he saw it. Red blood on a white dress, the marks on her arms and legs, the cuts on her face. They'd beaten her, badly; he could see that from here. A sob caught in his throat. Why were they doing this?

He realized that with no shoes or coat she'd freeze down here, and he couldn't understand why they'd taken those things from her. He knew she wasn't going to wake up, not for a while. He pulled the POC from his pocket and looked at it. Still no signal. He typed out the message for quick access if he ever did get a signal.

If he didn't, would they be found before they were both dead? What did they think had happened to them? He didn't want to die, and he didn't want to see Katya die either. But if they killed her, part of him hoped that they'd kill him too, because he didn't know if he could handle knowing that he had survived and she hadn't. He didn't want her to die alone or be afraid. What had happened to her already was horrible enough.

He moved around the room in the hopes of picking up a signal but he found nothing. He stuffed the POC back into his pocket and crawled onto the little bed in his cell. He lay down, just staring at her laying across the room on hers. He wished they would let them be together in the same room at least, so that he could try to treat the wounds that they'd brought her back with. His eyes slowly closed and he prayed for this all to be a horrible nightmare that he was about to wake up from.