Chapter 2

O'Brien skidded, and almost fell, but just managed to hit the ball.

"Are you alright, Chief?" asked Bashir as he moved towards the ball.

O'Brien nodded. "I'm fine", he said a little breathlessly, before hurrying across the court to return Bashir's shot.

"Nice shot" said Bashir as he waited for the ball to rebound off the wall.

"Thanks."

There was a volley of shots until a point was finally scored. "Twelve, nine to me" stated Bashir as he prepared to serve.

"Yeah, yeah", grumbled O'Brien. "Just serve."

Bashir grinned and flexed his shoulders. They had started to ache during the last few shots, but he didn't know why. He wasn't doing anything he hadn't done before, and he couldn't remember injuring them. Maybe I just spent to long hunched over the consol, !he thought as he served. He watched as O'Brien moved in. As he waited for his turn he realised that he couldn't remember hunching over his consol at all let alone for a long time. So when did he hurt his shoulders?

There was a loud beep, and Bashir started as he realised he had missed his shot.

"What's the matter, Julian?" asked O'Brien concerned by the look on his friends face.

Bashir shook his head. "Nothing. The shot was a bit fast, that's all. Couldn't reach it in time."

O'Brien nodded, warily, not believing the younger man. "Twelve, ten."

The game began again. As he continued to play Bashir's mind kept straying to the fact that he couldn't remember sitting at a consol. So if he hadn't hurt his shoulders hunching over a consol then he must have hurt them some other way, but how? He thought back to what he had been doing before he had started playing racket ball. Bashir stopped dead. He couldn't remember doing anything before the game! Nothing!

There was another beep as Bashir missed his turn yet again. "Sorry, Chief. It's just that...... Can you remember what I was doing before we started playing this game?" He hoped O'Brien would be able to jog his memory.

O'Brien shrugged at the strange question. "Probably the same as usual. Working in the infirmary."

Bashir nodded. Probably. So why couldn't he remember? Maybe he was coming down with something. Something that was also affecting his shoulders. He flexed them again and winced as the pain increased.

They had gotten steadily worse as the game had progressed. Now they were aching constantly, like there was a continuous strain on them. But how could that be? He had been playing racket ball for years, and before that tennis, so his muscles were well use to the pressures being put on them by playing the game. "Chief, can we stop?" he said finally coming to a decision. "I want to get myself checked out at the infirmary. I think I'm coming down with something."

O'Brien peered closely at him. "You look alright to me."

"Yeah, well..... I'm having trouble remembering anything that happened before we started this game, and my shoulders are aching." He began to rub one of them.

"Are you sure? I mean this has nothing to do with the fact that for the first time in ages there's a strong possibility that I might beat you?"

"Chief?" said Bashir confused.

O'Brien came towards him. "You seemed perfectly alright before, when you were winning. But now it looks like I might, you're suddenly not feeling well."

Bashir was shocked at what his friend was implying. "That has nothing to do with it."

"Yeah?!"

"Yeah! Why would I need to cheat anyway?"

"Because you aren't winning. Because you always cheat."

"No, I don't!"

O'Brien's face began to cloud. "Are you calling me a liar now?"

Bashir stared at his friend confused. This was so unlike O'Brien. Why was he behaving like this? Could he also have whatever was affecting him? Possibly. There was only one way to find out. Bashir started towards the com-panel.

"And where do you think you're going?" asked O'Brien.

"I'm going to call the Infirmary. I think that whatever's affecting me is also affecting you."

"Oh! So now I'm sick too!"

Bashir turned to the Chief. "You must admit that you are acting a little strange, Chief."

O'Brien threw down his racket angrily. "I'll tell you what's strange." He began to move closer to Bashir. "The fact that I let you cheat all this time. That I let you get away with it."

There was something about that last statement that sent a cold shiver down Bashir's spine. He looked at O'Brien and could hardly recognise him through all the anger and hate that was showing on his face. Bashir began to back away as O'Brien came towards him. What the Hell was happening? Why was he acting like this?

Bashir blinked and shook his head slightly. For a moment there he could have sworn that O'Brien had changed. That he had been replaced, by a taller, thinner man of about the same age, with dark, closely cropped hair, slanting eyebrows and pointy ears. But as he looked again all he could see was O'Brien.

"Chief?" he said as his back hit the wall. He raised his hands as though surrendering, but O'Brien ignored him.

"You think you're so clever, don't you? Graduating second from the Academy. Captain of the Starfleet Medical Racket Ball Team. Can't let an enlisted man beat you, now can you?" O'Brien stopped in front of him. "Well, I'll show you what I think of cheats and people who call me a liar." Raising his fist he punched Bashir in the face.

Bashir just stood there, lights exploding in his head, as he took it. He wasn't going to fight back. O'Brien was his friend and he was sick. Though if this continued for much longer, he thought, I will, friend or no friend.

O'Brien hit him again and then again. After a few moments Bashir realised that he wasn't going to let up.

I'm sorry, Chief. I hope that once this is all over, and you're back to your old self, you'll understand. He began to gather himself. Preparing to use whatever means necessary to restrain O'Brien. As long as it didn't involve hurting him too much.

As O'Brien pulled back for another blow, Bashir realised this was his chance and started to lift his arm to strike back, or at least he tried to. For some reason it wouldn't move. It took Bashir a moment to work out why, a moment that O'Brien took full advantage of by hitting him again. The ache in his shoulders had gotten worse. In fact it had gotten so bad that it was now just one big lump of pain straight across them, matching the one now growing in his head. Whatever was causing the pain was also preventing the muscles from working, and so stopping him from fighting back. Not that it mattered much as O'Brien would soon stop when he lost consciousness.

Suddenly O'Brien did stop and stepped back, allowing Bashir to slowly sink to his knees.

He had decided not to try and talk to O'Brien it would probably only make matters worse. Not that he was sure that his mouth would work properly anyway.

O'Brien hit him again, and he began to feel the first touches of unconsciousness enter his mind. Gratefully he rushed towards it.

Julian slowly opened his eyes and looked up at one of the dark stone walls of the cavern.

"Ah! Glad you could join me," said Tarik sarcastically. He had been waiting a long time for Julian to wake up. "We have some work to do." He saw a brief flash of fear spread across his captive's face. Good. Maybe things were finally going his way after all. "You could always stop me from having to do this you know. Just give me what I want."

Julian's jaw set as he turned away from Tarik and stared at the wall again, a determined look on his face.

"Suit yourself," said Tarik reaching behind for something.

Julian's face lost some of it's determination as he tried, surreptitiously, to see what Tarik was doing. His eyes widened and the fear returned as he saw the device.

"Ah!" Tarik smiled. "I see that you remember this. It's been awhile since I last used it," he gazed fondly at it. "But I thought I'd give it another try. This little thing hasn't let me down yet." He pointed the device at Julian and pressed one of the buttons.

Julian lurched and his nerve endings jumped as the electrical pulse from the device hit him. He gritted his teeth to stop himself from crying out.

Tarik watched, amused. So you're going to try and fight it. Well, lets see you fight this. He turned a dial on the device and the electrical pulse increased.

A muscle in Julian's jaw twitched as he fought to keep from screaming. He knew that was what Tarik wanted and he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, but the pain was almost unbearable.

Tarik smirked. Nearly. He had nearly gotten him to scream. Somehow it just didn't seem right unless he did. So he turned the dial again, and Julian screamed as every nerve ending in his body burned.