***
"Captain, we have a problem." The strong bass voice belonging to her Tactical officer woke Janeway from a half-induced catnap.
"Yes Tuvok. What else has gone wrong?" With the recent attack by the Arthiorians the ship seemed to be falling apart like a papier-mâché figure without enough glue. The only thing that could possibly make it any more worse would be….
"We have picked up a fleet of ships on an attack vector. From what few sensor readings we were able to salvage for the last attack, these ships appear to be Arthiorians.
Getting up as soon as Tuvok started, Janeway grabbed for her padd that held the tactical data from the battle on it while demanding, "What shape is the ship in?"
"Shields are at 29% and phaser power is at 54.2%. The launch bays for the torpedoes are still severely damaged and inoperable."
Not good, not good at all, Janeway mused to herself. Aloud she only reassured, "Well, if we can't beat them with firepower, maybe we can out-think them."
"Their tactics are implemented at random, Captain." Chakotay's steady voice now flowed over her. "I think we should be prepared for the worst."
Flushing with anger, Janeway was grateful that she was still safe in the confines of her ready room. Careworn to keep her voice level she coldly intoned, "I am aware of that, Commander."
"Yes ma'am." Chakotay sounded contrite.
Letting the door swish open for her, Janeway stepped confidently onto the bridge. "Battle stations."
Various "yes, ma'ams" answered her order as she slid into her well-worn command chair. Calling up the tactical display on the arm of her chair she admitted to herself that things didn't look positive. Not that she would confess this to her crew. They knew nothing but the confident, sometimes aggressive Captain that had lead them through more impossible fights then any of them could have imagined being in.
"Captain, I'm picking up at least three battle cruisers, but the sensors are sketchy at best, so there could be more or less," Byrd reported confidently from the Operations station.
"They appear to be powering weapons," Tuvok crisply added.
"Mr. Paris, evasive maneuvers. Tuvok, show them that if they want a fight, they've got one." Belatedly and entirely unnecessarily Janeway tiredly added, "Red Alert," adding quietly to herself, again.
***
The next thing Janeway remembered was waking up. It was warm, partly because of the humidity, and it wasn't for a few minutes that she realized that someone's jacket had been placed over her to keep her warm.
"Oh thank God. Commander! Commander! She's awake!" The deep voice of Tom Paris jolted her awake and she struggled to open her eyes. Until that moment, she hadn't noticed that they had even been closed.
"Mr. Paris? Status?"
Tom bent down towards her, and she realized that she was lying on a soggy ground that had leached into her clothing, causing her to shiver despite the heat. "It's okay Captain. You need to rest."
"No…" Janeway attempted to struggle into a sitting position, and when Tom realized that she would get that way with or without his help, he put his arm around her back to help. By that time, Chakotay had made it into the ailing Captain's vision.
"Commander?" It was the only question she had to ask.
"Captain, when the ship was taken over-"
"My ship? Why don't I remember?"
"You were knocked unconscious by the Ops console exploding after Danny died," Chakotay tried to reassure her. She could see the pain in his eyes when he mentioned the death of the well-liked Ops officer. She closed her eyes in respect, remembering how she had been forced to push the young man's body out of the way to reach the controls.
"Then what?"
"Well," Chakotay continued, "we were all knocked out somehow, Tom and a few others seem to remember a gas of some sort, and the next thing we realized we were on this planet. It's tropical in climate, and there are plenty of types of food for us to survive on. The Arthiorians aren't cruel at least."
"What about the crew?" Janeway asked. She had to take time to get over the 'temporary' loss of her ship, but her crew had to be safe.
"We lost four in the fighting, and we have wounded like you." Janeway winced at the fatality number. Even such a few crewmen were an injurious blow to the ships compliment, not to mention morale. Chakotay finished with a regretful, "Lastly, we have four people missing."
That was an odd way to phrase it, and Janeway caught it. "People?"
"Neelix, Kes, Holodoc, and Harry."
Oh God, that meant it would be up to the three of them to take over the ship. All three of them were humanitarians at heart, and it was hard for her to imagine that they could implement a hostile take over of the ship. "Why them?"
Chakotay shrugged. "I've been wondering the same thing."
Tom, who had been listening to the two of them offered, "Well, holodoc's self-explanatory: he can't go anywhere but sickbay. We never even got the holo-imagers in engineering and the bridge working. They probably thought that Neelix and Kes could teach them about the ship, but not be much trouble. You have to admit, neither of them look very intimidating. As for Harry, I have no idea."
"Maybe they kept Harry because they thought that he would be something that they could bargain with." Torres had walked up during Tom's conjecturing and threw in her two cents. When Tom gave her a quizzical look she explained, "You know, if Kes or Neelix or Holodoc won't do what they say they could threaten to kill him or something."
"Maybe," Janeway allowed. Something that Mark said the first time they had talked about the young man in question floated to the top of her mind, and she grimaced at the thought. "Or maybe they think that they could simply take advantage of him because he wasn't one of us."
"True. Harry was the only one on the ship that didn't have a communicator pin. Actually, I can't even remember what his last name is, so I never could have called him Mr. Anything." Tom furthered her guess.
"But I saw you speaking to him just yesterday in some weird language." Torres countered.
"Korean," Tom admitted, a blush creeping up his face. "Yeah, but that was just because he looked so depressed I thought that any minute he was going to throw himself out an airlock. I happened to know a little from when I was a kid, and that's it. I could barely talk to him at first, 'cause it seemed that he didn't understand a word I said in Standard, but when I accused him of lying he yelled back at me in pretty good English."
"I know what you mean. At one time I thought that maybe he would have a flare for engineering, but then he seemed to lose it." Torres shook her head as she remembered. "I just don't know what to make of him. He seems to be smart but then…he's Asian, so it's impossible." Torres hated to admit when something puzzled her, but when she thought about it Harry was an enigma to her and the rest of the crew.
"We can worry about Harry's psyche later," Janeway announced. Taking for granted later came and any of them still cared about this when it came. "Right now let's concentrate on using what we have to survive, and then escape."
***
Kes struggled in Neelix's grip, her petite stature radiating hatred. Flitting on the other side of consciousness, she could hear a voice pleading for help. The aura from which the cry emanated was dim, flickering in and out with every blow to it. She could feel the pain, the fear, and the humiliation that was slowly tearing the glow apart, maliciously plucking away parts of it until there would be no more. Kes also knew that the perpetrators of all the vicarious pain she could feel were directly in front of her. They grinned spitefully at her, daring her to break free from Neelix's restraining, but safe grasp.
"Don't Kes. If you do, there'll be no way to help him," Neelix whispered into her ear, trying to reason with her. It was only in situations like these that he saw hatred in her. When others were being hurt, that was when Kes fought. It didn't matter to her that it might be hopeless; she had to do things her own way. She was much like Captain Janeway in that respect.
"But he's in so much pain. They have to right to do this to him!" Kes didn't care that the Arthiorians heard her daring tone.
"Child, you really don't expect us to simply let him run free after apprehending him for sabotage? He follows the code of a warrior, who will always try to escape, and it would be dishonorable for me to not punish him accordingly." The Arthiorian commander, neither Neelix nor Kes had bothered to ask him his name, had summoned them to the Captain's readyroom to tell them of the capture of their shipmate.
At first he had supposed that they had collaborated, and that there was more to the plan then simple tinkering in engineering. Slowly though, through the questioning of the two there and the interrogation of the one captured, he realized that the other child had acted alone. Rather than punish them all, for he knew that if anyone laid a hand on the female the most vocal one of the group who seemed to be her protector would never cooperate again, he would concentrate on the one who had attempted the sabotage.
"Why are you so cruel?" Kes's eyes flashed to the Commander's, daring him to try to justify himself to her. "Why do you have to torture him?"
It still puzzled the Commander as to how this young girl knew the methods of persuasion that he and his men used, but he dismissed it as a quirk of these people. "You ask too many questions, child, being in the position that you are. I would not press my good graces. It is only by them that you are still alive. I didn't even have to inform you of the fate of your crew, but I did as a courtesy."
He settled back in the Captain's chair, boldly taking possession of every part of the ship, even the sacred chair that Janeway spent so much time in. Neelix glanced between the Commander and the woman he loved, torn as to what to do. Harry was so young, and while he didn't have Kes's empathic powers, he had been able to pick up on the fact that Harry was hurting. "Don't let him die," he said, trying to keep his voice from sounding like he was pleading.
"He's seen your doctor more than once," the commander sneered as he waved his hand. The two Voyagers' guards flanked them, and began to escort them away. "After all, he wouldn't provide any entertainment if he was dead."
"He'll be of no use to you, whatever, if you don't give him some sort of reprieve. I know from experience that humans can only take so much abuse before they break down, both physically and mentally. I fear that you are treading that line, sir, and soon that boy will be of no use to you, dead or alive." Neelix poured every ounce of logic, the weapon he had seen Tuvok wield with such devastating results so skillfully and which he admired so much, into his convictions. Humanitarian ideas may influence a person that still had a soul, but with people like the Arthiorians the only thing to appeal to was their sense of greed.
The commander's eyes widened at the thought. "Perhaps," he conceded, then smiled sinisterly, "and perhaps not. Maybe I will let him die, and then start on her." Barbarically he grabbed Kes's arm and pulled her toward him until she stumbled into the desk, making his hidden threat all the more menacing.
Rebelliously Kes struggled in the constricting grip. He reminded her too much of Jabin, and she had vowed a long time ago that she would never be subjected to that sort of treatment ever again. Still…if it could help Harry…. The pain and fear that crowded her mind from him made her shiver every time she focused on it. She saw Neelix stiffen protectively across from her, and willed him to not do anything drastic. Getting himself shot, or worse put in the same position as Harry, would not help anyone.
Gauging their reactions the Arthiorian laughed, pleased at their discomfort, but tired of his game. He released Kes's arms, but allowed himself one last predatory glance at her body. "Go, now," he smirked. "Before I think of something better to do with you."
***
The doctor had a plan, or so he thought. Having only two other useful crewmates on board made it necessary that the plan wasn't a gigantic feat of strategy, but it didn't need to be. It's only purpose: recapture the ship. Sardonically, he had always wondered at the use of 'recapture'. Humanoids complained that 'capturing' had a negative connotation, but when they were getting back what was rightfully theirs suddenly 'recapturing' had a noble, courageous aura to it. Not that syntax mattered now. No, at the present moment, all that mattered was that he could convince the behemoth looking over his shoulder that he needed Kes. It wouldn't be that hard to do.
"Coupled with everything else you have put him through, I need to do more extensive and detailed investigation as to Mr. Kim's medical condition, which can only be properly instigated with a dual arrangement of physicians," the EMH prattled, trying to sound as authoritative as he could. It didn't matter that what he said made very little sense to an informed person. If he had learned nothing from observing the crew, especially Captain Janeway, it was that you didn't have to necessarily know what you were doing. You simply had to act like it.
The behemoth grunted. "So you need the pixie-child to help?" The Arthiorian had express orders to keep the human on the diagnostic bed alive as long as possible, to wring information on the ship out of and simply for amusement's sake.
Rolling his eyes expressively the Doctor answered, "Yes. Kes. I need her." He changed his speech to be slow, as if addressing an idiot. The Arthiorian didn't seem to notice, only reinforcing the comparison. "Get her now."
Not taking his eyes from the hologram, the Arthiorian grunt backed away from the patient and attendant physician to activate the still functioning comm system. He prided himself on not being stupid enough to let the Doctor out of his sight for a minute. Just because this creature had no life signs didn't mean that he could be taken lightly.
After confirming that the guard had indulged his request, the EMH returned to his patient. He had seen more of this young man in the last week then he had in the previous two years on the ship. A normal human, he hadn't seen the physical and mental discrepancies that his program insisted existed. A recessive protocol in his program negated any ideas he might have of sharing this information with the Captain ridding any thoughts other than the fact that the patient was Asian, against the better judgment of his humanitarian protocols. The same protocol didn't stop him from treating the young man, though, and as sensors slowly described in gruesome detail the various injuries the Doctor stifled an all too human sigh.
Even coming up 15 decks didn't take very long, and at that moment the sickbay doors slid open to admit Kes and another Arthiorian apprentice-dictator. Eyes fastening to the unconscious, bruised, pale, and taught face of Kim, Kes rushed to the diagnostic table's edge. "Oh no," she whispered. If the surface signs were anything like the internal sufferings she felt from him it was a wonder he was still alive at all.
Moving to the same side of the diagnostic bed as Kes, and making sure that the two guards' voices lifted in animated discussion drowned out his own, the Doctor leaned over. "Kes, I need you to help me retake the ship. I have a plan, but I need your and Mr. Neelix's help," he murmured.
"But Harry-" she gasped. She couldn't believe that the hologram would abandon someone in such obviously dire need of his expertise.
"I have done everything I can for Mr. Kim, with what few instruments our captors will allow me access to." Evidently the Arthiorian race was still steeped in mythology and magic, and therefore they deemed any medical instrument that reminded them of something evil, or did something they had never seen before, unusable. The only reason they had made it into space, the Doctor hypothesized, was because some irresponsible spacefarer had crashed on their planet and allowed them to analyze their ship. Undoubtedly after they let their local shamans de-ghost it. There was no other explanation, in the EHM's mind, that an egocentric, chronically suspicious, and highly fantasy-obsessed culture such as the Arthiorians could travel among the stars. "The faster we take possession of the ship the faster I can properly treat Mr. Kim."
Kes's expression had been close to tears, but with the EMH's admission of a battle plan to help the pain-riddled young man she saw on the bed, a look of determination settled on her features. "Tell me what you need Neelix and I to do."
Smiling fondly, but only for a second, the Doctor began to explain.
***
"I have no idea Captain. Considering that it shouldn't even be working now, it could bend to my computations and die at any moment," B'Elanna Torres grumbled as Janeway peered over her shoulder, making her feel as self-conscious as a child taking a test with a teacher watching her every move.
"B'Elanna, we have to keep the transmitter working, or there's no way the ship will know where to find us. I don't care what you have to do, keep it working." As hard as Janeway tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice, she could tell by her Chief Engineer's defensive posture that her agitation was contagious.
"There's nothing left that I can do, Captain. If it dies now, there's nothing I could do to stop it." B'Elanna, of all people, hated to admit when people or machines defeated her,, but she also thought it stupid to ignore facts.
Janeway straightened with a sigh. "Just…do something," she finished tiredly. Torres looked up curiously, but before she could comment Janeway disappeared.
Slumping onto a nearby rock on the outskirts of the makeshift Starfleet camp, Janeway attempted to gather her thoughts before someone came to find her again to solve some new emergency. At the time, setting up a land-to-space communicator seemed like the best idea. Now it seemed like a futile gesture. In reality it was up to the three crewmembers left on the ship. Who even knew if Harry would help the Voyager crewmen still left on the ship? It was not like he had been treated as an equal, and if the Arthiorians treated him as an equal, for some reason that was beyond her, what would keep him from joining them. Nothing.
Still, he could help them, and any minute she might hear the footfalls of a two person rescue team trampling through the forest, guided by their crude beacon. As if conjured up by her wishes, a branch broke behind her, and Janeway spun around on her rock. She relaxed immediately when she realized who it was.
"Chakotay," she greeted him simply. She honestly couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Captain. I was wondering if you were planning on joining the rest of us for dinner. Standard survival procedures state that, when possible, all crewmembers should eat three meals in preparation for a time when they might have to go for extended periods of time without food and water and to keep their physical and mental capabilities at their maximum to most facilitate their undoubted endeavor to get out of the situation they are in."
Janeway lifted an eyebrow questioningly. "I've read the handbook, Chakotay. There has to be some other reason that you're here."
"Actually yes," Chakotay said candidly. "The crew doesn't benefit from seeing their Captain mope in a corner in the middle of a crisis. They need you. They need you to rely on them so we can all get out of this situation."
Janeway glanced at the Maquis captain. She often wondered if other First Officers were as blunt and sometimes argumentative as Chakotay was, or if she had simply been blessed with someone who never cringed at telling her what he thought. "All right. You win Chakotay. I can mope when we get back to Voyager."
Chakotay smirked, the same way he had the first day they had met. Stretching out an arm so she could grasp his hand, he hauled Janeway to her feet and they set off to the center of camp.
What met them there was a scene of near chaos. Figuring that the loud noises were only an incarnation of surprisingly high morale, the shock of seeing three stocky, humanoid but blatantly non-Alpha Quadrant forms startled the Captain and First Officer. Towering over the tall, by human standards, Tom Paris, the group of three seemed to be in animated discussion with the helmsman. Quickening their pace to see what Paris was doing, but not being careful not to seem threatening, Janeway and Chakotay joined the Lieutenant to even the ratio of Starfleet officers to new aliens.
"Lieutenant Paris, do you mind introducing me to your new friends?" Whatever Tom had been saying before Janeway and Chakotay arrived was cut off by the Captain's firm command voice.
The expression on Paris's face told her of the benevolent nature of these new aliens before his words did. "These are the Pachin, Captain. Believe it or not, they picked up our distress signal and came to give what aid they could."
Despite the reservations flitting in her mind, Janeway felt a warm feeling enter her heart. It was nice to see someone else in this part of the Galaxy that had the same ideals as they did. Torres came up, excitement evident on her face.
"Captain, the equipment that these people brought with them is amazing!" She smiled at the dark skinned aliens with profound respect. "We should be able to stay here for as long as we need to, and you'll be happy to know that there is no way our beacon is going to break down now, save someone disassembling it."
Janeway trusted her crew's judgment, and the fact that her gut told her these Pachin bore them no ill will. Firm in this conviction, her mind forged ahead. "I'm sure my officers told you how we became marooned on this planet. This may seem forward of me, but would you be willing to help us get back to our ship?"
The immediacy with which two of the Pachin glanced at the third told Janeway that a hierarchy of some sort existed. The leader seemed to pause and mull her proposition over. Squinting with bead-like eyes and vaguely blue-tinged long hair fluttering in the breeze the contemplative silence stretched out interminably for Janeway. Finally the Pachin looked directly into Janeway's eyes.
"You must understand that we have no proof that what has happened to you truly has transpired," the male voice explained patiently. Janeway felt her hopes slip. "However, it is not unknown in this area for things such as you describe to happen. I am willing to bring you and your crew on a few of my fleet's ships to the ship you claim is yours. If, by talking to you and who is now in possession of your ship now, I can determine that the ship truly is yours, I will help in any way I can to return it to you.
You must understand that many times other races have imagined alleged hijacking of ships, when in reality they only want the resources of the fleet to help them poach an unsuspecting ship and crew. I have no doubt though, that we will be able to help you."
Janeway nodded in ascent to the kind Pachin's offer. It only made sense for him to be skeptically wary of her. "I thank you on behalf of my crew here and those still held prisoner on Voyager, our ship," she clarified.
Turning to the three crewmen that still stood behind her, Janeway ordered, "Tell everyone were moving off this planet." She indulged in a smile of her own. "It's not Earth, and it's not Voyager, so it's not home. Let's go."