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Desecration
Chapter Three
"Calm yourself, Mr. Neelix." Tuvok took the rotund man by his shoulders. "Allowing your fears to control you will
only serve to further cloud your mind."
"I'm… I'm trying, Mr. Vulcan." stammered Neelix. "But where is everyone? I heard the guards say that they brought the
crew here to the cargo bay. But the
bridge crew is missing. Commander
Chakotay, B'Elanna and Tom… and the captain! Where is the captain?"
"I do not have the answers to your questions." Tuvok said
flatly.
"What if they've harmed her, or worse?" he babbled, panic
flashing in his yellow eyes. "She could
be dead!"
"We do not have enough information to dismiss that
possibility." Tuvok said emotionlessly. "However, Captain Janeway is a resourceful leader and is well trained in
self-defense and diplomacy. It is
likely she is still alive and is being sequestered by the alien leader." He fixed his dark eyes on Neelix. "We must stay calm in order to help
her. Captain Janeway will not benefit
from a panicked and hysterical crew."
"I understand." said Neelix, taking deep breaths to calm
himself.
"We must watch the aliens, learn their patterns, and
discover their weaknesses. We must bide
our time until an escape attempt is possible. It is the only logical course of action."
"This is one time that I envy your lack of emotions,
Tuvok." Neelix said, patting Tuvok on the shoulder.
"Do not mistake composure and control for absence, Mr.
Neelix." He corrected. "The captain's
safety is paramount. She is a friend,
and I am not immune to the difficulties that come with not knowing her
condition or her whereabouts."
Neelix was instantly flooded with regret for his selfish
behavior. Of course he wasn't the only
one frightened or upset. This entire
crew was loyal to Captain Janeway, and Tuvok had known her and served with her
for years. They must all be as
concerned as he was.
"I'm sorry, Tuvok. I guess I haven't been a very good morale officer. For what it's worth, I know that the captain
has great faith in you. If anyone can
help her, you will."
Tuvok nodded in response. His appreciation for the offer of comfort, though subtle, was not lost
on Neelix.
Neelix looked around the cargo bay at the group of people
he had come to think of as his family. They had been attacked, their home seized, and now they were crammed
into a heavily guarded cargo bay that was never intended to house 135
humanoids. If ever there was a time
they needed their morale officer, this was it. He began moving through the crowded cargo bay, offering a touch on the
shoulder, a pat on the arm, and words of reassurance.
"Everything's going to be all right. We've gotten out of far worse situations
than this…"
"Commander, please! You must lie still or I'll have to sedate you." The doctor struggled with Chakotay to keep him
on the biobed.
"Kathryn…" he rasped.
"You're in sick bay. You're injuries are severe, Commander. You require immediate treatment." The doctor waited several seconds, allowing his words to sink through
Chakotay's thick skull. "Please, lie
still and let me help you. I promise to
tell you everything as soon as your condition has stabilized."
Chakotay locked eyes with the holodoctor, his rationale
slowly returning along with the memory of how he was injured in the first
place. "The aliens, they stormed the
bridge…"
The doctor skillfully eased Chakotay onto his back and
began treating his burns with a dermal regenerator. "The ship has been taken over by the Variquians, a rather hostile
species I'm sorry to say. They're
holding most of the crew in cargo bay two with the exception of – I'm sorry,
this may hurt a little – those who were injured in the battle. They were brought here for treatment."
Chakotay tried to stifle a painful groan as the doctor
began healing the energy blast burns on his chest. The pain was terrible but the lack of control was
unbearable. How could he lie here
quietly, knowing that the ship was in enemy hands? He craned his neck and did a quick visual scan of sickbay. He estimated there were at least ten
Variquian soldiers standing guard. They
were large in stature and bearing huge energy rifles, just like the ones he'd
seen on the ridge.
"I've managed to heal most of the burns to your face and
arms. Fortunately the alien weapons
were on a low setting. But you took a
rather nasty blow to the head, Commander. You have several microfractures in your cranium, and a severe
concussion. You will have to remain in
sick bay for observation."
"And the rest of the crew?" he asked, painful explosions
detonating in his head with every word.
"Ensign Kim had a minor concussion and a few lacerations,
easily repaired. Mr. Paris suffered a
ruptured spleen, which I have successfully removed. He will be fully recovered in a matter of hours. That's the good news." The doctor hesitated for several seconds,
gauging Chakotay's comprehension and emotional state before continuing.
"And the bad news?"
"I must inform you that Seven of Nine was seriously injured
during the attack." The doctor motioned
to Seven's motionless form on the surgical bed. She was deathly still, only the soft rise and fall of her chest
with each assisted breath offered any evidence of life. "Her ocular implant apparently took a direct
hit from the alien's energy weapon, causing a power surge in her cortical
array. I performed surgery and was able
to stabilize her condition. In the
hands of a lesser physician, she would most likely have died." He gloated in
his characteristically egotistical manner. "She is, however, in a coma."
Chakotay regarded the former drone with an expression of
gentle sadness. "Her prognosis?"
"Uncertain at this stage. The next 24 hours will be critical." The doctor gazed at Seven fondly. "I'll do everything in my power to help her. At this point she is stable. She could wake up any minute, or not at all. I just don't know."
The doctor gestured to the other biobeds. "There were several crew members with minor
injuries. They will all recover, which
is more than I can say for Ensign Taylor."
Chakotay winced visibly as the memory of the young woman,
writhing in agony as she died, returned to his hazy mind. It was a cruel, meaningless death. He knew that Kathryn would blame herself for
it. She was always… wait a minute. Kathryn, where was Kathryn? They were together on the bridge, and now…
now? He couldn't remember how they'd
been separated.
He seized the doctor's holographic arm just as he was about
to step away from the biobed. "The
captain, where is she?"
The doctor's face seemed to darken at his mention of
Captain Janeway. He put a supportive
hand on Chakotay's shoulder. "She's
being held prisoner in her ready room by the alien leader. I'm afraid that's all we know."
"What?" he bellowed, shrugging the doctor's hands away and
rising to a sitting position. He
ignored the hundreds of antimatter explosions that erupted in his head as he
became vertical. "I have to help her."
The doctor seized Chakotay by the shoulders as he tried to
rise to his feet. "Commander, you're in
no condition to mount a rescue." Chakotay struggled against him. "I will sedate you if you don't lie down. You'll be of no use to the captain if you storm out of sickbay
and get shot down before you even make it to the turbolift." He tightened his hold on Chakotay. "Please, be reasonable."
Even in his altered mental state, Chakotay knew that the
doctor was right. He couldn't just
burst onto the bridge and rescue her. They needed a plan.
"I suggest you remain lying down." The doctor said gruffly,
pushing Chakotay onto his back. He
leaned in close to the commander, speaking softly in an effort to keep his
voice out of the guard's range of hearing. "If you give the guards reason to believe that you are recovered, it's
likely that they'll take you to the cargo bay with the others. At least in sickbay, you'll have access to
some of the ship's systems. That is, as
soon as I figure out a way to do it unobserved."
The sickbay doors slid open, drawing their attention. A tall, heavily armed Variquian stepped in,
the doors hissing closed behind him. Chakotay recognized the figure as Subcommander Jalek. The man that murdered Ensign Taylor. He immediately relaxed onto the bed, giving
the illusion that he was too weak to do anything else. He knew he had a better chance of helping
Kathryn if he remained in sickbay.
Jalek stopped a few paces in front of the doctor. He regarded Chakotay with a look of
disgust. "What is his condition?"
"He has a severe concussion, as well as skull fractures and
second degree burns which are still in the process of healing. He'll need to remain here for further
testing." The doctor answered matter-of-factly.
"And the Borg?" he snarled.
"Her condition is far worse, I'm afraid. Her ocular implant overloaded causing a
power surge to her cortical array. As a
result, she has suffered neural shock." A blank expression washed over Jalek's pale face. It was obvious that he didn't understand a
word the doctor was saying. Irritation
etched plainly on his holographic face, the doctor spelled it out. "Your soldier shot her in the face. She's in a coma. I do not know if she will survive."
Jalek fixed his cold, emotionless eyes on Seven. His expression was neutral, pitiless, as if
he were looking at nothing more than piece of malfunctioning machinery. There was not an ounce of compassion for
this individual whose life may end due to the actions of his own people. He nodded at two of the Variquian guards
standing near the door.
"Take them to the cargo bay with the rest of the humans."
he commanded, gesturing to Paris and the others.
A raven-haired guard seized Torres by the arm and began
herding the Starfleet group toward the door. B'Elanna glowered at him. "I
know the way." She snapped, jerking her arm from his grasp.
Harry Kim gently took B'Elanna by the arm. "Easy, Maquis. They have the weapons, remember?" She opened her mouth to retort, but stopped short when she saw
the silent pleading in Harry's dark eyes. There had been too much violence already, and this was hardly the time
for an uprising. She simply nodded at
him and followed the guard out the door.
Jalek turned his predatory gaze back on the doctor. "You will come with me to the bridge. High Commander Kirov will allow you to treat
your captain's injuries. Bring whatever
you need with you. You will treat her
there."
The doctor nodded and gathered a medical kit in his
arms. He was eager for the opportunity
to assess the captain's condition, regardless of the circumstances.
Chakotay was unable to stifle the sigh of relief that rose
in his throat. Kathryn was alive, and
the doctor would make sure she was cared for as much as possible. Now he had to find a way to get her out of
there.
The doctor flashed a concerned glance at Chakotay. "I'll return soon, Commander. In the meantime, please rest." What he really meant was don't try anything
foolish.
Chakotay nodded his understanding and tried to relax on the
biobed. He closed his eyes and
attempted to block out the images of Kathryn in the hands of the cruel
Variquian leader. He struggled to keep
his mind from wondering what horrible things could be happening to her at that
very moment.
The pain seemed to travel, moving from one body part to
another. Hot, burning pain, searing as
it journeyed from muscles to organs, and even seemingly into bones
themselves. She wanted to stay in this
sanctuary of unconsciousness, to hold tight to sweet oblivion. But something was pulling her toward
alertness and she felt her consciousness responding, almost against her
will. Someone was speaking to her.
The voice was familiar, trustworthy. She felt drawn to it despite her desire to
stay entranced in sleep. It offered
comfort, solace from her pain. It was
smooth and gentle as it called to her. "Captain? Captain, can you hear
me?"
Her eyes fluttered open, squinting against the bright
lighting in the room. "Computer,
decrease illumination by 25%." ordered the voice. She felt the slight sting of a hypospray on her neck, and then
pain immediately began to dissipate.
Captain Janeway looked up into the eyes of her Chief
Medical Officer, concern deepening the creases on his face. "Doctor?"
"Don't try to sit up, Captain." he said, placing a hand on
her small shoulder to keep her in place.
With the pain easing, her memory returned almost
instantly. The images of the attack
flashed through her mind. She vaguely
remembered being led toward her ready room. Yes, she was on the sofa in her ready room. "My crew?"
The doctor proceeded to scan her with the medical
tricorder. "They're being held in the
cargo bay. They're fine… for the time
being anyway."
"What about Seven of Nine? And Chakotay? I saw them…"
"Captain, please. You must remain calm. I'll tell
you everything I know, but first we need to see to your injuries." The doctor tuned to face the guard at the
door.
"I need to speak to your superior, immediately." The
hologram demanded.
The Variquian sneered at him. "You're hardly in any position to make demands. I could snap your neck in an instant,
human."
The doctor regarded him evenly. "For your information, I am not human. I'm a hologram. I can't
be maimed, mutilated, or tortured." Then he added snidely, "Sorry to disappoint you."
As if on cue, the ready room doors hissed open and High
Commander Kirov strode into the room. He immediately turned his gaze on the doctor. "Are you finished with her yet?"
"As a matter of fact, I'm not." he answered haughtily. "The captain has a hairline fracture in her
tail bone. She also has an open
compound fracture of the right humorous. As you can see, the bone is protruding through the skin. She has lost a dangerous amount of
blood." He waited for a reaction from
Kirov, but the alien remained expressionless. "Her arm will require surgical correction. I cannot do that here in the ready room!"
Kirov glared at the doctor. "Well then I suggest you get creative if you want her to survive,
Doctor. She's not leaving this room."
"Very well." He conceded. "I'll need an assistant and some more equipment from sickbay."
"You have one hour, not a minute more." Kirov snarled.
The doctor turned to leave and gather the equipment. He paused at the door. "I'll be back, Captain. I promise."
"I know you will, Doctor." she answered weakly, offering
him a slight smile.
Kirov looked at the small, broken form of the human captain
lying on the sofa. She was a beautiful
woman, her blue eyes burning with stubborn defiance even in her weakened
state. And for just an instant, Kirov
found himself feeling a tinge of… of what? Was it regret, shame? It
suddenly seemed cowardly to inflict harm on one so small, so delicate.
Yet, she was as tenacious a leader as any he'd ever
seen. She was courageous despite her
diminutive stature. Her very presence
commanded obedience from her crew. It
was obvious that they followed her every order without question. He pushed the regret to the back of his
mind. She was a formidable opponent. He
would be foolish to let her size and beauty cause him to underestimate her.
He slowly walked over and stood near the sofa, looking down
at her. She glared up at him, biting
her lower lip to fight the pain as she pulled herself to a seated
position. He reached a hand out to
stoke the soft, pale skin of her cheek. Janeway flinched momentarily, but remained still as he touched her.
"Do you fear me, Captain?" he said quietly.
She met his eyes, her icy gaze boring into him. "I fear many things, Kirov."
He regarded her quizzically. "It surprises me to hear the mighty captain admit to
weakness. I thought yours to be a proud
species. Perhaps I was mistaken."
"On the contrary," Janeway contradicted, "Fear can be a
great strength." Her voice was husky, carrying a deadly intonation as she
spoke. "It can fuel the fires of
determination, be an engine of motivation."
"Or it can cripple you and make you submit to the source of
your fear. Don't you agree?" He took hold of a stray lock of her auburn
hair and rolled the silky strands between his fingers.
The gesture surprised Kathryn. It was, by its very nature,
almost tender, almost affectionate. Yet
it was menacing at the same time.
"I suppose it's all in how you handle it." she responded
calmly. "You can let fear dominate you, or you can control it, make it work for
you." She sharply seized his hand as he
again moved to touch her cheek, defiance and hatred burning in her eyes. "I have never been one to succumb easily to
fear, or to the cowards who try to evoke it."
Anger flashed in Kirov's cat-like eyes. His hand moved swiftly to her throat,
squeezing until he could feel her trachea collapsing under the force. Janeway clawed at his hands desperately with
her one functional arm, but she was no match for his strength.
He watched pitilessly as her lips turned blue and her eyes
became slightly unfocused. As she was
about to lose consciousness, he released her, shoving her roughly onto her
back.
Kathryn reflexively gasped for breath, the pain exploding
inside her skull as she filled her lungs with air. She fought to control her rapid breathing, the temptation to
hyperventilate warring with her logic of taking slow, deep breaths.
A sadistic smile crept across Kirov's fiendish face as he
watched her struggle for oxygen. "You've yet to know true fear, Captain. But you will. And when you do,
you will beg me for mercy."
Kirov turned on his heel and headed out the door, nearly
knocking over the doctor and Paris as they entered with the necessary medical
equipment. "One hour!" he barked.
Tom emptied the load he was carrying onto the floor and
moved immediately to Janeway's side. She was still gasping with her efforts to control her breathing. Her blue tinged lips formed a weak smile at
the sight of him. "Captain, it's going
to be okay." he soothed.
"Tom, you're all right." she whispered, reaching for
him. He took her hand in his, fighting
back the tears that suddenly flooded his eyes at the sight of her. Angry red welts spread across her neck,
testifying to the cruel strangulation of moments ago. Her normally immaculate uniform was blood stained and torn. Her shining hair escaped from her
professional ponytail and defiant tendrils curled around her ashen face. She looked fragile, despite her attempts to
the contrary. He smiled bravely at her
even as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces in his aching chest.
"Of course I'm all right, Captain. You aren't getting rid of me that easy." He
teased, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. Tom exchanged worried glances with the doctor.
"We'd better get started." the doctor said softly. He looked at his captain sadly. "I'm not going to be able to sedate you, Captain. You've lost a great deal of blood and I
simply don't have adequate monitoring or resuscitation equipment here in the
ready room."
"I understand."
"I'm going to give you a strong analgesic. But you may still feel some… discomfort." He
said, pressing a hypospray to her neck.
"I'll live with it." She groaned, biting her lip against
the pain as Tom cut her uniform jacket away from her broken arm.
Kathryn tried with all her might not to cry out in pain as
the doctor and Tom Paris treated her injuries and set the bone in her arm. She knew it was almost as hard on them as it
was on her, and didn't want to make it any more difficult for them. She managed to keep the moans to a minimum,
but she failed to stop the tears from escaping her eyes and trickling down her
cheeks. She rarely cried, but the pain
was as intense as any she had ever suffered.
As he worked, the doctor kept his earlier promise and
filled the captain in on the conditions of Chakotay and Seven of Nine. She regarded the doctor with a raised
eyebrow and said quietly, "If Seven begins to regain consciousness, they'll go
to any length to obtain the encryption codes from her. Is it possible in that instance for you to
keep her sedated and keep up the appearance that she is comatose?"
The doctor glanced up from his ministrations and eyed the
guard carefully. He paid them no mind
and sat with his feet perched arrogantly on Janeway's desk. Fool. He could paralyze him in an instant with a hypospray. Too bad there were about 15 more like him
just outside the door.
"I believe so, Captain." he almost whispered. "But we'll have no way of knowing what
lingering affects that action may have on her neural tissue."
Janeway locked eyes with the doctor, the seriousness of their
situation evident on her face. "If they
gain control of this ship's systems, none of us will need to worry about our
neural tissue, Doctor. Do whatever you
have to do to keep her unconscious."
"Understood."
As if he'd been standing by with a timer, Kirov suddenly
burst into the room. "Your hour is
up. Leave us, now!"
The doctor and Paris hesitated briefly, reluctant to leave
their captain even though they knew they had no choice.
"GO!"
"I'll need to examine her again in a few hours to make sure
the bone is healing correctly." said the doctor. He had to make sure he was allowed to see her again.
Kirov stepped up to the doctor, his face just inches from
his, and sneered. "You will examine her
if and when I allow it. You do not
dictate to me. Now get out… and take
all this equipment with you."
Janeway looked away as her officers exited the ready room,
unwilling to let them see the desperation in her face. She wanted to scream for them not to leave
her. Instead, she bit on her lower lip
until it bled.
"You too, leave us." Kirov ordered the guard. He rose to his feet and followed Paris and
the doctor out the door.
Janeway turned to face her captor. She swallowed hard, trying to push down the
bile that had risen in her throat. She
refused to cower before him even as her fear threatened to overcome her.
Kirov paced before her, his hands clasped behind his back,
his animalistic eyes roaming over her body. "You're strength is impressive, Captain Janeway. But this has gone on long enough. I allowed your wounded crew members to be
treated. I even allowed your injuries
to be taken care of. But my kindness
has limits."
A wicked smile spread across his face as he brought a
folded length of rope out from behind his back. He pulled Janeway to her feet, pulling both of her arms roughly
behind her back. She felt the rope bite
into her wrists as he tied her hands together. "What kind of games are we going to play now, Kirov?" she snapped
hatefully.
In one swift motion, Kirov kicked her feet out from under
her and slammed her onto her stomach on the floor. She squirmed beneath him as he pressed his body against her back,
nearly forcing the air from her lungs.
He brought his mouth to her ear, his lips brushing the
sensitive skin as he spoke in a raspy whisper. "You're very beautiful, Captain. I'm going to enjoy teaching you how to serve a man."
"I'll die before I'll ever serve you." She snarled.
A demonic laughter rolled off his purple lips. "You'll long for death, yes. But eventually you'll learn to appreciate
me. You see, I will eventually gain
access to your ship's systems. I'll be praised as a hero when I bring this new
technology to my government. Not to
mention the fortune I'll make selling your crew off as slaves. They'll make excellent laborers in the mines
of our moon. But you, Captain, you will
remain with me." He seized her by the
hair and pressed his lips her earlobe, nipping roughly at it as he spoke. "I've a certain affinity for you,
Janeway. And from here on out, you
belong to me."