Chapter 2
Seven awoke to the sound of the large metal doors grinding open. She and Chakotay watched as a small squadron of armed aliens walked in ahead of, around, and behind a trio of figures who were dressed in elegant, flowing robes and held themselves with a haughty air of importance. The alien commander was speaking rapidly to the newcomers, gesticulating around the cell block as he talked. Their translators were struggling to understand either of the two species' languages.
"Buyers," Chakotay murmured.
Unfortunately, their captors seemed to be leading the entourage straight for the lift. Seven had the sinking feeling that they were coming for their newest prisoners, and as the contraption drew closer, she saw that she was correct. The door to their cell was unlocked, and the leader of the newcomers eyed the two of them appraisingly. Seven felt Chakotay edge closer to her protectively.
Then, a short command was barked out, and the soldiers grabbed Seven rapidly, pulling her towards the lift.
Chakotay sprang desperately into action. He swung at the nearest alien soldier, surprise giving him the upper hand. Seven, held firmly, and at gunpoint, could not help him, but he seemed to be holding his own. His sure punches landed squarely on their targets every time, and he spun quickly to counter attacks from all sides, ducking and parrying to avoid some of the blows. He kept moving, quick and agile. A few of the soldiers were staying back, weapons pointed at the fray, but they obviously did not want to risk hitting their own people.
Suddenly, she saw one of the fallen aliens pull himself to his feet behind Chakotay. "Look out!" she cried. Her warning had come too late, and he tackled Chakotay to the ground. The others quickly fell upon their target.
"Done," Kathryn heard Tom say. His gentle voice sounded so far away. She forced her mind to awaken from the comfortable numbness that had settled over her a couple hours ago. She blinked up at him. He looked so tired, deep worry clouding his features. A wave of guilt threatened to overcome her.
"Easy," he said. He supported her as she sat up. "How do you feel?"
Her throat felt very dry, but she managed to rasp, "Better." Small streams of memory were coming back to her of their conversation before. She had let her emotions come to the surface. Her words had betrayed her darkest fears.
"Good," Tom was saying. He managed an obviously forced grin through his clear exhaustion. "Now, I found a cleaner uniform if you want it." He handed her the jacket and a ration pack of water.
"Thank you," she murmured. She accepted the items and moved to stand. She felt that she couldn't look him in the eye after showing him such despair. She was the captain. She was supposed to be a strong beacon of hope to her crew. She had failed him when he had needed her the most.
She changed quickly in the back room, and when she returned, she asked, "How's your head?"
"Just fine," he replied.
The silence in the pause afterwards hung too heavily, his concerned gaze too piercing. Kathryn sighed eventually to break it. "Look, Tom, I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I…" she trailed off, wavering between excuses and truth.
"Don't be sorry," he insisted somberly. "It happens to the best of us. We're only human."
"Thank you," she agreed, "for everything you've done and said for me."
Tom nodded in acknowledgement. "So, what's the plan here?" he prompted.
She took in a deep breath. Then, she turned to pick up a tricorder and a phaser rifle. Fresh determination filled her voice. "We find our family and break them out," she decided. "Then we find a way to get home."
Chakotay's head felt like an axe had been taken to it, and his breathing was restricted by sharp pain around his ribs, but he still struggled to rise to his feet, gaining slight satisfaction at sight of the few soldiers he had managed to take out. He tensed his muscles, ready to go another round, but was met with the clear image of a blaster weapon in the middle of his swimming field of vision. It was pressed into his chest.
Suddenly, the buyers' leader shouted sharply again. Their translators caught the word "strong," and the remaining attackers immediately backed away from Chakotay. A swift command and hand gesture allowed him to join her side once more. He breathed a short sigh of relief, gripping her offered hand.
They were led out of the prison and back through the complicated corridors, eventually arriving back in the hangar. Chakotay saw the Delta Flyer at the opposing end of the large bay, but his view of their small vessel was mostly obscured by another ship. They were being led towards the large glider-like craft which looked like a sleeker, wider version of a Klingon warbird. Chakotay felt a nagging feeling that ran up his spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He noticed slight movement in the shadows along the hangar wall as someone slipped behind a ship. "Get down!" he whispered urgently to Seven, tugging on her hand. They dropped to the deck together, and chaos ensued as the surprised group was met with a volley of phaser fire.
Somehow in that moment, the sight of his captain, jaw set, eyes determined, and phaser rifle flashing, was one of the most wonderful things he had ever seen.
Tom had taken cover behind a shuttlecraft opposite the one the captain was currently crouching behind. Their initial advantage of surprise had run out, and their adversaries had taken cover, firing back with their – admittedly – more powerful weaponry. Each shot that landed on his shuttlecraft left a nasty singe mark, and the acrid smell of burnt metal made him want to gag.
Tom noted with satisfaction that Chakotay and Seven had separated themselves from the fray, staying out of the line of fire and making their way slowly around to them. "Catch!" he shouted. He tossed a phaser to Chakotay in between shots, and then he covered the captain while she threw another to Seven. They quickly sprang into action to draw away some enemy fire.
"Fighting retreat!" Kathryn cried.
She and Tom doubled up their firepower while Chakotay and Seven slipped behind them in the direction of the Flyer, and then they themselves retreated. Unfortunately, their opponents recognized the tactic and began pressing forward after a couple rotations. Five more swaps, and Seven and Chakotay had made it to the Flyer.
Enemy fire was beginning to fly into the half-open doors. Tom winced slightly on his poor shuttle's behalf and then glanced at the captain to make sure she was ready for the final run. She gave him a quick nod. Chakotay and Seven started up a ferocious barrage of phaser fire in a desperate attempt to keep the path clear for them, and then it was all or nothing.
He ran faster than he had ever run in his life, slipping inside the Flyer doors with the captain right behind him. Then they sealed the entrance. "Seven, estimate on how long until we can get the Flyer working?" Kathryn shouted.
Seven, who had immediately pulled away the cover to the main propulsion system, made a quick analysis. "Limited power. 15% shielding capacity. Approximately ten minutes to regain impulse engines and thruster control." All at once, a warning alarm blared, the lights shut off, and the columns at the forcefield entrance to the bay began expelling smoke in plumes.
"No time!" Tom gasped, sliding to the helm. "They're venting the bay!"
The four of them barely had time to grab hold of something before the back of the Flyer tilted nauseatingly forward and the entire shuttle was expelled out into the vacuum of space.