***
He couldn't remember why he was doing it. There was a reason, a well thought out, noble one, but his brain refused to access the memories that held that information. All Harry's world consisted of embodied itself in the forms looming over him. Even standing, looking straight ahead only offered him a view of the Arthiorian's chest. He had no idea how long he had been standing, staring straight ahead. All he knew was that falling now would result in the same treatment it did before; a brutal beating until, hopefully, blessed unconsciousness.
"Your warp drive is offline. You will tell us how to repair it."
As ironic as he found the situation to be, Harry didn't have a non-pain fogged part of his mind to appreciate it. They wanted information that was illegal for him to know, and if anyone found out, he would surely be punished. In that respect the intentions of the crew he had been with and the crew he was subjected to now had no difference in ideologies. With the Starfleet crew, though, it would have been something simple. Not being able to go to the mess hall, having no one talk to him, not even the Lieutenant Paris that had, for some reason, spoke to him only days before. The difference with these aliens, the Arthiorians, was different. They prided themselves in their methods of torture.
"I don't know," the young man rasped. The last time he had been able to drink water had been over a week ago. The only explanation he could think of for his continued survival lay in the idea that when he was hauled to sickbay the Doctor had been able to give him some liquids, somehow. He only remembered fleeting moments from those times anyway. At one point he thought he saw an angel standing over him, tears in her soft, beautiful eyes. He had wanted so badly to tell her not to cry, not to soil her ethereal face on account of him. It had only been a hallucination though, a side effect of sleep deprivation and torture drugs. He should have known better, no angel would come to save or mourn over him.
"How stupid do you think we are? You were working with your technology when we found you, and ever since then more and more problems have erupted from this infernal ship. You know how to cause it to malfunction, so you know how to fix what you have done." Persuasively the alien accented his point by knocking Harry so hard against the face he fell to the floor, head ringing. Every nerve in his body sent overwhelming spurts of pain to be processed, thanks in part to the drugs he had been forced to have, and also because there was no place anymore that didn't harbor some bruise, some hastily half-mended bone, some bloody gash. The drugs that he had been forced to take had caused him to throw up any food he might have still had in his stomach, burning his throat along with his screams.
Even returning to the forced lifetime of servitude would be a brighter option than his current condition. Struggling weakly to rise for fear of being kicked while he was down, Harry knew that even though he was not a Starfleet officer, and could never be one, there was no way he would give into these bastards. He knew that there were others on board, and he would not let them be treated in the same demeaning way he was. It wasn't just the Starfleet thing to do; it was the right thing to do.
"No."
It started all over again.
***
"Kes," the hail was soft and urgent. "We're almost ready to tell the Doctor that all of the projectors are online."
Glancing sideways at her partner in crime, Kes's at first thought that she couldn't possibly have heard what she did.
"Are you sure, Neelix?" She didn't mean to sound conciliatory, but she had to voice her disbelief. "How could we have them all online? I only remember going into sectors 12, 05, 22, and 10. That should have put about 10 of the holo-emitters online. If you did yours then that means we have a sum of 20. Didn't you say there were 32 emitters total?"
"Yes," Neelix admitted. Before continuing he glanced over his shoulder to make sure that their taskmasters who oversaw their every move didn't get suspicious. "But according to the schematics, everything is online. I noticed that before, when I told you where to go, the holo-emitters in the area where most of the Arthiorians are stationed were already completed. The most dangerous places like the bridge, engineering, and the armory just to name a few. I didn't believe it, but since we got this part of the computer up and running, I did a diagnostic like B'Elanna taught me. They all check out. All of them."
Kes shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. I know B'Elanna had all of the kinks worked out of the system, but I remember her saying to me that she regretted not having time before the attacks to try them out. She felt guilty that she hadn't put in enough time to put them online earlier to help the casualties from Engineering."
They pondered the quandary, while pretending to be unobtrusive. Having been given permission, Neelix stirred the concoction that would be their food while thinking. Making things, especially food, always helped him think. It was a perfect blending of order, going by the directions, and creative liberties, deciding for himself what a pinch was, and if something needed a pinch of this, or a pinch of that. It allowed him to think outside the box, but still within reason. He had made enough for three, thinking that perhaps, out of some strange twist of fate, their guards would let them take something to the young man they held. Seeing the unshed tears in his beloved's eyes made him hate the Arthiorians all the more. Not only for hurting Harry, but also through him hurting the one thing he loved most in the universe. The tugging of guilt kept him more focused than ever on their escape plan.
He wouldn't say he had been harsh to the young Asian, far from it in his opinion. The young man was a face he knew, but simply wasn't one he interacted with. Neelix consoled his conscience by reminding himself that he had never gone out of his way to be unduly cruel to the boy. It wasn't his fault that when Harry came to the mess hall no one spoke to him. If he wasn't going to seek out conversation there would be no reason for anyone to reach out a hand to him. The Talaxian had to admit that he didn't know the whole story concerning why the young man was treated with the distain that he sometimes was, or the non-caring that the crew showed for him. He knew that these people had a reason for everything though, something they could justify every action with. He had never come across a decision that he could successfully refute, and since had stopped trying.
Startling himself, Neelix skated a skeptical glance Kes's way. "Do you think Harry could have done it?"
Contrary to what he thought, Kes didn't gape at him. She didn't automatically discount his idea. Staring intently at him, as if to discern from where he got the idea, he could see her contemplating his idea in her mind. Looking at the prospect from all directions she settled on, "It's possible."
"Highly possible," Neelix corrected, realizing that his idea had more verisimilitude then he first thought. "We do know that he was involved in some sort of sabotage when he was caught, and the only reason we think he doesn't have the talent to do it is because we've never given him the chance. Who knows what he can do? This was the best idea that we could come up with to take back the ship, and I bet that Harry could think up the same thing if we just gave him a little credit."
"A little credit would be more than he's ever gotten." Kes locked eyes with Neelix through the sudden steam of the frying food. "Neelix, I really feel as if there is more wrong with this situation then the ship being taken over and what the Arthiorians are doing to Harry."
Having her say this seemed to bring all of the lingering thoughts that had plagued Neelix to life. Quietly he admitted, "So I'm not the only one."
"Let's promise, when this is all over, that we'll go talk to Captain Janeway. If nothing else good comes out of this, we can at least try." Deciding that the food was done, and needing some distraction, Neelix turned to dish the food on two plates, leaving the third portion in the pan.
Kes leaned over the counter, elbows on the table, looking pensively at Neelix's back. "All I know is that we have to do something."
***
"Captain, you must understand that when we hail Voyager, you cannot be seen on our bridge. I will let you and your officer stand on my bridge, but do not interfere." The captain of the Pachin ship, Osrrin, meaningfully gestured to the back of the cramped bridge. Janeway, who had been standing as close to the command chair as possible without sitting in it looked startled at first at the request, but nodded.
"Of course," she replied neutrally. Purposefully she strode towards the right-hand side of the bridge, Tuvok following closely behind. She had decided to bring only one other officer with her onto the Pachin bridge, knowing from her own experience that more would feel like an intrusion to the Captain. As she watched Osrrin settle confidently into his command chair she felt her heart twist. The thought that someone else sat in her chair was sacrilegious. A personal insult to the core of her being.
She surveyed the crew, noting how they did their jobs as efficiently as her own crew. Half of the reason she had brought Tuvok to the bridge with her instead of someone like Chakotay was because she thought that, tactically, having the weapons and defense officer within speaking range would be an asset to their assault. Interestingly though, the Pachin hadn't asked any bits of advice yet. It was obvious to the Starfleet Captain that her claim to the ship wasn't fully believed yet. Soon she would be proven right, she was sure, and they could attack.
The blue-tinged lights of the bridge suddenly turned to a pulsating, glowing, aqua color. She had learned that the Pachin had evolved on a 97% water planet, and therefore still bore a resemblance to their aquatic ancestors. The water colored, normal lights, the barely visible gill-like structures on their temples…the doctor would have enjoyed examining them.
Thinking of the Doctor reminded her of the hostages, and in turn the ship, which brought her face to face with the task at hand: rescuing them.
"Ship, dead ahead," the Pachin in the bow of the bridge announced. Situated differently than her own bridge, Janeway had to guess where positions were. Universally the captain's chair sat regally in the center, and what appeared to be the helm stood at the front. Directly to the right of the helm, at a connected console that at one point in time in Starfleet's history would have been the navigator's chair, sat a young girl that seemed to study the sensors and prime the weapons. Farther to the left of the helm was situated what could only be the engineers station, and for a fleeting moment Janeway congratulated herself for not bringing Torres to the bridge. She would have been so busy tearing apart the circuitry of the ship they wouldn't have been able to get anything constructive done. To the left of this console a smaller console monitored the shields and other aspects of ships functions such as structural integrity and life support. Lastly, between that console and the 'navigator' console stood a Pachin whose job revolved solely around communications.
"Do we have a positive identity lock?" Ossrin queried calmly. Despite his outward calm, he leaned forward in his chair, as if the answer would enter his ears quicker if he were closer to the woman answering it.
"Yes, sir. It matches the configuration of the ship Captain Janeway identified." Ossrin spared a quick glance in Janeway's direction, letting her know that she had passed the first test. Unlike Tuvok, Janeway had been thoroughly grilled on different aspects of her ship. Certainly she could only divulge bits and pieces of information. It's not like she couldn't be expected to give the primary computer core codes or the self-destruct codes, but she sacrificed much more information than she normally would have been comfortable with for the sake of getting her ship back. Even with some of the more outrageous questions Janeway had the feeling she was being tested, one Captain to another, as Ossrin compared what she would say about her ship to what he would say about his. Considering they hadn't all been shot out an airlock proved to her that at the very least she hadn't failed her first of what would undoubtedly be many trials.
"Match speed and course," Ossrin didn't hesitate or turn as he issued his next order that would have been just as appropriate coming out of Janeway's mouth. "Hail them."
There was no answering affirmative other than the silent ripple of the main view screen that dominated the front wall of the bridge. Oval in shape, the image solidified into the carefully calm and confident figure of Janeway's current adversary. Looking directly at the screen the Arthiorian commander questioned innocently, "I am the commander of this vessel. Is there something I can help you with?"
Even from her poor perspective Janeway could see the slight tenseness that suddenly took residence in Ossrin's back. When he spoke, however, there was no indication of his agitation.
"My fleet was in this part of space when we picked up the plasma leaking from your damaged warp drive. It seems that your ship is in a sorry state indeed. Perhaps it is time for you to purchase a new one. You have obviously been in possession of this ship for many years. Perhaps one too many." Janeway bristled at the insults to her ship. The reasonable part of her brain assured her that it was all part of a plan that Ossrin and the others really were on her side. The more passionate side of her made her clench her fists in anger.
"I have been captain of this ship for many years," the Arthiorian commander assured a little too readily. Attempting to curry favor with the Pachin commander he added, "and you are correct in what you say."
"Really?" Ossrin let the disbelief show in his voice. The Arthiorian hesitated, obviously attempting to gauge whether or not to keep up his ruse in the hopes that he could convince this new intruder, or if he should run while he had the chance. With the armaments of his new ship he might be able to take on the ships that threatened his new prize, but it would damage the ship all the more.
A tingle ran across Janeway's skin, a secret sense awoke in her and she could tell that Ossrin had been convinced of her claim. Suddenly his tactics became clear to her. She hadn't been able to ignore the fact that she had been watched out of the corner of Ossrin's eye through the whole exchange, and now she knew why. The true captain of Voyager would never let Ossrin get away with slighting the ship the way he had. The Arthiorian had simply let the barb by, hoping instead to get on Ossrin's better side. Little did he know that by not defending Voyager he had signed his own eviction notice.
Ossrin turned to face her and clearly, and without closing the channel, said, "Captain, I believe we have found your ship. If you would let your tactical officer assist us, we will attempt to retrieve it for you."
Janeway nodded, and smile of triumph lighting her features. Tuvok strode towards the weapons console, and in his stride she was sure she saw a semblance of pride and readiness to get back their ship. The look of shock on the Arthiorian's face was quickly replaced by a tactical view of the region, and Ossrin's face turned grim. He knew that they were not done.
"Captain, you said that there were still crewmembers on board your ship. Do you think they will take the chance to escape and help us retake your ship?"
"Absolutely," Janeway affirmed with conviction. At the very least she could be sure of Neelix, Kes and the Doctor. Whether or not Harry helped them was a moot point. He couldn't do much other than possibly get himself shot anyway.
***
The violent shuddering of the ship was an instant giveaway. Brutally knocking Kes to the floor the ship seemed tired of so many people fighting over and therefore rebelled from friend and foe alike. Grabbing Kes's arm to hoist her from the floor and steady her on her feet, Neelix staggered towards the access panel in the galley. Initially surprised by the jolt, the two Arthiorians had rushed from the room, not caring about the two aliens, but instead about their control of their newest asset. Leaving Kes and Neelix alone to implement their and the Doctor's plan.
"That must be Captain Janeway." Kes held on to the bar as the ship rocked again. "We need to do it now. Tell the Doctor."
If he thought it strange to be taking orders from a petite, young girl, Neelix showed no signs of it. Instead he called to the Doctor, "Are you ready Doctor? We are about to transfer your program."
The doctor's voice filtered over the intercom, sarcastic as usual. Nothing seemed to faze that part of his programming. "I suppose this means I'm going in alone. Some cavalry."
"You'll have some allies," Neelix glanced at Kes, acknowledging her addition to the plan, "but most of the action will have to be done by you. We're getting ready to transfer you now."
"I'm ready." With that assurance, Kes leaned over Neelix's shoulder and delicately pressed an oblong button. The ship rocked again, as if recoiling from their work and sent them both sprawling on the floor. Holding each other for security and comfort, the Talaxian and Ocampa waited and hoped, knowing that everything else was in someone else's hands.
***
"I order you to stand down!" The doctor winced as a holographic Janeway's voice rang out over the bridge. The representation of the captain was obviously a horrible facsimile of the original, but had nonetheless served its purpose. Smoothly he interrupted,
"I suggest you do what she says. You have no idea how violent Captain Janeway can become."
The merciless blood colored lights that shadowed the bridge only accentuated his threat and illuminated the look of stark panic and disbelief on the Arthiorian commander's face. Having initially defied gravity by the height from Janeway's command chair from which he jumped the Doctor's trained medical eye could see the signs of immense, almost to the point of incapacitating, fear.
Not being able to keep his voice from trembling in front of his crew, who had been struck as dumb as him, he demanded, "How is this possible? You were left lightyears away! This is impossible!"
When programming their 'help' Neelix and Kes had been prudent enough to incorporate some improvisational subroutines into the captain's holographic personality. "There is nothing impossible about it. I am here to take my ship back with the help of my crew. Surrender now."
"You are being boarded," the EMH reminded the commander, and as another blow buffeted the ship, "and you obviously are no match for our new ships. For your health, I suggest you agree to Captain Janeway's proposition."
"You're ghosts! Aren't you?" The fear quickly turned to horror. "Demons who will not let this ship be!"
The Arthiorians appeared to be more superstitious than even the Doctor could have imagined. Pouncing on the opportunity, he could only hope that his holographic comrade would follow his lead. "That is true. When a being of the flesh is wronged, they have a choice to avenge themselves to those that have caused them pain. Whether that takes weeks, months, years, or eons. This ectoplasmic formation," he gestured to Janeway, "will not leave this ship until you do. You wondered why system crashes continued to occur, even after you apprehended your saboteur. This is the reason. The crew, alive or dead, will not rest until what is rightfully theirs is returned to them."
"The dead have come to reclaim what is rightfully theirs…and they have allies in the real world. Please, sir, let us leave before they plague us forever. No ship is worth that!" One of the distraught crewmen, pressed as close to the outer wall as possible, pleaded with his captain.
"I order you to stand down," the holographic Janeway ordered once again. Her face held the same fierce determination that he had seen on it time and time again. Strangely, the Doctor found himself appreciative of his two other crewmates attention to detail, though their dialogue programming could use some work.
"Only if you allow us to leave freely." The stipulate to the Starfleet ultimatum was understandable. Had the Arthiorians been stupid there would be no way they could have taken over Voyager in the first place. Though the specification had been directed at Janeway, the hologram glanced meaningfully in the EMH's direction. Recognizing superior programming she deferred to his better judgment.
Knowing that that not agreeing could cause senseless deaths, for as far as he knew the Arthiorians could have a Bushido code of sorts and fight to the last man, taking down every Starfleet officer they could, the Doctor found it a compromise worth taking. Rebelling from another attack, the ship's lights flickered, momentarily dousing the bridge in darkness. The amount of damage that the ship was sustaining briefly showed in the nanoseconds before the emergency lighting restored the visual light spectrum, for everything was silent. This could be attributed to the fact that, at the moment the lights died, so did the two holograms holding the new bridge crew at bay. The shot from the aggressing ships had penetrated some part of the failing shields and damaged a minor program storage unit. Unbeknownst to him, a few of the Doctor's secondary subroutines suddenly found themselves deleted. As power automatically restored itself marginally, the Doctor and Janeway flashed back into existence. No one, not even the holograms, being the wiser about what had momentarily transpired.
None of the Doctor's recent past memory circuits had been affected, and the first words out of his mouth after his brief deactivation and reactivation were, "Agreed. Signal your surrender to the other ships, immediately." Before there's nothing left of this ship to fight for.