AN: This chapter I really struggled with. I'm trying to convey the Away Team's condition and morale in a general decline, and bring across the emotions they are feeling right now. Also, I've been thinking about what to write for my next story as this one approaches conclusion. I don't have any solid ideas and it made me think of something that occurred to me a lot when I was reading fanfic my first year and not writing. I had ideas that I wished people would write, but couldn't find. I couldn't write back then due to obligations and time constraints, but I would love to offer those of you who don't write, but have an idea, an option. If you have a plot and you'd like to see it made into a story...but you don't want to write yourself, email me! Let me know if anyone is interested in this! I want to write for the fans out there. My only request is it can't be slash, I would be willing to do ship but I won't step out of canon.

Chapter 12

Worsening Conditions

"I'm hungry." Trip wasn't just hungry, he was starving...ravenous...giddy with lack of food.

Hoshi gestured at the bowls near the door, "Have some more of..." She frowned. They had no idea what the stuff was that had been brought earlier. It was lumpy, cold and blue. Hoshi had managed to eat a quarter of her bowl before losing the ability to keep it down.

Trip looked at her, "You're joking, right? I don't think Porthos would eat that."

Reed had stopped his pacing and was sitting against one of the metal walls near the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest. He was rubbing a hand along his neck, attempting to ease the hours of tension from his aching muscles.

"I'm with the Commander. That food isn't fit for dogs."

Men! "Fine, go hungry."

Malcolm and Trip looked at Hoshi. Malcolm shook his head, nonplussed.

"I thought that was the point." Trip said.

Hoshi shot daggers at Trip.

It was apparent to all three that nerves were running short among them. Lack of sleep, food, and being systematically tortured was lowering their normal social defenses. And none of them were under any false impressions as to the outcome if T'Pol failed to get them out of this mess. If morale was any lower, it would've crawled away on it's belly.

Further conversation was interrupted by the unceremonious return of their Captain. He was semi-conscious, but apparently lacked much in the way of muscle control, as he was hanging limply between the two Taltaxins. They tossed him to the floor, and began to go after Reed.

Malcolm wasn't known for going quietly, and he wasn't about to now. He struck out with his foot, tripping the closest alien, and coming to his feet, bringing home a punch to the second alien in his gut. The tripped Taltaxin had rammed into the wall headfirst and was stunned; the second hadn't even flinched. One out of two isn't bad, Malcolm thought, resigned.

Trip made a move for the one Malcolm had punched, seeing the first go down and stay down. He leapt onto his back and hung on for all his worth. The Taltaxin didn't appreciate Trip's antics, and began twirling rapidly to dislodge the tenacious human. Reed took the opportunity to make a diving tackle for his legs. The three went down in a sprawling heap.

Hoshi saw the stunned alien making an attempt to gain his feet. She ran over, grabbed one of their food pails, and thunked it down on his head.

They were all feeling like they might make it out of there, when the blue weapons fire they had seen earlier flared in the room. Trip fell to the ground, unconscious. Another soft whine, and Hoshi felt herself falling...and then nothing.

Reed watched his friends collapse, horrified. He waited for the inevitable but it never happened. He searched for the source, and saw a guard they hadn't seen before. He was smiling pleasantly. Damn.

Brutus II slammed a meaty fist into Reed's temple. He fell to his knees, vision blurring from the blow. He could make out Brutus II moving over to help Brutus I to his feet. He said something to his companion, and ran a finger down his face, collecting the dripping blue muck. He flicked it to the floor and laughed. Brutus I didn't look happy.

Before he could clear the cobwebs from his mind, he was pulled to his feet, and propelled out the cell door. All they had done was make them mad. Better than nothing.
"Do we have to use the transporter? I don't think the Captain would be too happy." Travis was with T'Pol and Doctor Phlox in the Captain's ready room.

T'Pol fixed Travis with an impenetrable look, "Ensign, if there were other options we would use them. It is certified for biological use."

Travis knew she was right. They had studied and discarded at least ten other options. The Taltaxin, Miche Shurone, had outlined a possible escape plan. Their people would provide support from below, but it was up to Enterprise to get the away team out of there.

Landing a shuttle was too risky; they couldn't get close enough to the prison to ensure the away team wasn't executed once their arrival was detected. The transporter was still regarded with a healthy fear. Who wouldn't be upset at the thought of your body being broken down to it's smallest atoms, and reformed elsewhere. He couldn't help the involuntary shiver slide through him.

"It's quite safe, I assure you Ensign." Phlox tried to comfort Travis.

"That's what they always say."

Phlox smiled but said nothing further. Travis wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

T'Pol sort of harrumphed, a cue that they were drifting from the matter at hand. "Doctor, have your sickbay ready. The away team looked...badly...when we saw them earlier."

Phlox nodded. He would be ready.

"Ensign Mayweather, you'll be flying the shuttle. Have you loaded the targets?"

Travis nodded. Shurone had outlined the general plan. Enterprise would initiate a pinpointed attack at a few strategic locations, drawing off the ministry forces guarding the away team, hopefully leaving only minimal staffing where they were being held. The conspirators would arrange for a power outage in the prison when signaled by Enterprise, who would then beam a small security team to the coordinates provided by Shurone. They'd free their crew and beam back to Enterprise, whereupon Travis would cease his attack and return as well. Then Enterprise would warp the hell out of dodge.

The plan sounded good in theory. The downside was Shurone had informed them they would have to wait till nightfall, another twelve hours, to help avoid the shuttle becoming a casualty. Night would conceal better and the ministry would be caught off guard, as opposed to attacking during the day when offices were fully up and running.

T'Pol had voiced what everyone was thinking, would their people still be alive in twelve hours. Shurone had assured her they would. It seems Veen and his people wanted certain information. They would keep the away team alive until they got it...or were satisfied the away team had nothing else to hide.

Travis brought his attention back to T'Pol, who was discussing something with Phlox. Phlox nodded, apparently agreeing to whatever it was she had said.

"I believe we are finished. Ensign, you are dismissed to your quarters."

Travis started to protest.

"Ensign Mayweather, do you believe it would be in the best interest of the rescue mission if you are at anything less than one hundred percent?"

"No Sub-Commander."

She nodded coolly, "Then I suggest you go and get some rest now while you can."

He left the ready room, reluctant, but knowing she was right. Twelve more hours. He hated waiting.
Reed took in his new location. He had been tossed into the chair, buckles on, and left without so much as a 'how do you do' by Brutus I and II. He was alone, something that felt very odd and slightly spooky.

He sat in the chair for what had to have been an hour. He was thirsty, and his muscles ached. He figured early on this was probably part of that sadistic Luvox's methods. Let the victim suffer. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

When Luvox finally made his entrance Reed remained hostile and defiant.

"Nice of you to join me."

Luvox peered at him. He had hoped to leave the Lieutenant stewing on what was to come. It had been effective in the past. It seemed to have the opposite effect on Reed, who appeared even more insolent than before. He did so love a challenge!

"My my...we do seem grumpy."

Malcolm reckoned he hadn't seen grumpy yet.

Luvox pulled up the chair he had straddled earlier when dealing with Archer. "How is your...incarceration so far, Lieutenant? Do you need anything?"

Malcolm had to have misunderstood, "What?"

"I believe you heard me."

"I thought I did. I heard you speak, I heard the translator translate...but it can't be right."

"I assure you, you heard correctly."

"What are you playing at Doctor? Is this the 'be nice and throw him off his guard' routine? It's not going to work."

Luvox smiled lackadaisically, "Think what you will Lieutenant. I'll assume from your lack of response that everything is adequate in your cell."

Now that hadn't been Reed's intentions at all. He glared. Bloody bastard. He's toying with me.

"Your point?"

"Making conversation, checking up on your well-being. You see, I have a vested interest in your health." Luvox stood, and walked over to his metal drawer, "My superiors have assigned me the task of finding out certain information...I'm sure you recall this from our earlier meeting."

Malcolm did recall, painfully.

Luvox continued, pulling out some type of injector gun and two vials, "Your Captain got to experience this earlier...you may have noticed the condition he was in."

Reed was wondering if it might not be time to think of some witty comeback, but he kept coming up empty. What do you say when a madman is making polite conversation while readying the instrument of your torture?

"I did." Lame, but he was tired.

"Good. Then you know this can be very unpleasant for you...if you don't cooperate."

"I think it's going to be unpleasant for me no matter what I do." Malcolm said, staring evenly at Luvox approaching his side.

Luvox laughed, "Your very astute."

And you're very mental. "Why do we need to go through this again. I won't tell you anything. It's a waste of my time...waste of your time. Totally unnecessary."

Luvox grinned maddeningly, "Because it's fun!" and he jabbed the injector against Malcolm's leg.

He bit his lip. If this is what had been done to the Captain no wonder he had no muscle control left. A path of flame and fire was traveling through his body, firing every neuron along the way. Agony was an understatement. He couldn't hold back the gasp from the shock.

"It will continue to burn away at your insides. It's called Lenara. A drug found quite by accident. One of my men rubbed a leaf against an open wound and became incapacitated from the pain. I was very intrigued, I assure you. I watched the process of his nerve endings being slowly fried to little bits."

Malcolm stared in horror at Luvox as he related this story. He tried to push himself back into the chair, searching an escape to ease the pain even a small amount.

"The problem at the time was that we didn't have an antidote. I'm afraid my friend's death was extremely painful...and prolonged. It took three days of the worst pain I had ever witnessed." Luvox continued, calm, as if he were relating the weather.

Malcolm was shocked, even knowing what a nut this guy was, "You didn't do anything to help him."

"Of course not! I had the opportunity to view exactly what it would do. I wasn't about to ruin it by helping him." Luvox made a tisking sound, "Very unfortunate because I actually liked Ryaby."

Malcolm didn't feel any better for knowing what it would do. "There is...an antidote now?"

"If you tell me what I want to know."

Malcolm had been raised to not show any sign of weakness. His father was old school; if you weren't missing a limb, you weren't in pain. You didn't complain about the weather, or the food you were served. You dealt with the problem and moved on. That was the only reason why Malcolm didn't cry out with the building fire within.

"What do you want...to know?" He gritted.

"The coordinates of your home world...what you did with our escaped criminal. As you can see, we take escaping very personally."

Malcolm fought to keep his thoughts straight, "Why...do you want...the coordinates..." Holy mother of God this hurt... "to...Earth?"

Luvox considered Reed's question. It might add to his purpose if he answered truthfully. The risk he took was losing himself in his overpowering emotions. He despised these humans, and was fascinated by them at the same time.

"Your species, Lieutenant...is repugnant to us. From the moment we set eyes on your away team, we were disgusted. When we realized you actually were from another planet, the mere thought was appalling...imagine a whole planet filled with the one thing you found repelling." Luvox's eyes shone manically, "We want to know where your planet is because if they are anywhere near us, we will take action. We won't allow our world to be contaminated by your...kind."

"And...you call...us...disturbing?" Malcolm managed to reply.

His lungs rapidly expelled all the air due to the fist being withdrawn from his abdomen. Here we go again.

"Your...point?" He gasped, tears now running freely down his cheeks. Partly from the pain, but partly from being unable to breathe.

"Tell me the coordinates and I'll give you the antidote."

"What...about...the...criminal?"

Luvox turned the injector over in his fingers, when had he picked it back up, Malcolm thought hazily.

"We can return to that subject later...when you are recovered." He offered, feeling magnanimous.

"You're...too kind." If he didn't end this soon it wouldn't matter. Malcolm felt his tenuous hold on sanity slipping. He was going to turn into a stark raving mad lunatic from the pain if something didn't give soon.

A buzz from what must have been an intercom of some type interrupted Luvox from repeating another demand. Luvox smashed a button on a desk, "What do you want?" He snapped.

"Prime Minister Veen needs to talk with you." The feminine voice spoke into the room where the only audible sound was the harsh breathing from Malcolm.

Luvox uttered a few words that had to be Taltaxin curses. Reed wished he were in any kind of condition to remember them. It would be useful next time he found himself here. He had to hope there wouldn't be a next time.

He loomed over Malcolm, "It's your lucky day Lieutenant." He jammed the antidote into his leg.

"I don't...feel...lucky." He surprised himself by admitting.

Luvox didn't say anything, but he seemed surprised also.

Luvox wasn't happy at the interruption by Veen, someone he was less than pleased to see on a normal day. He wound his way through the halls of the temporary ministry headquarters, others stepping to the side as he strode by. No one looked him in the eye. He was just as feared by his own people.

He didn't bother to knock, entering Veen's office despite the protests of his shisku, the Taltaxin equivalent of a secretary or personal assistant.

Veen looked up from the stack of papers, "It's about time." He peered around Luvox's frame, "Thank you Jeane."

Jeane bowed, pulling the door closed as she backed from the office.

"You needed to see me?"

Veen stood up, walked around to the front of his desk, and leaned back. He didn't like looking up to Luvox; it gave him an edge of power. He always stood when Luvox entered. He didn't realize that Luvox had noticed his behavior years ago and knew exactly why he did it.

"That Sub-Commander didn't believe me."

"I wouldn't have believed you."

Veen's face flushed with color, "Watch your step Luvox."

Luvox wisely kept quiet. Veen was known for making people he didn't like disappear. Neither one liked the other, but they both worked towards a common goal. Up to now it had been enough for a reluctant truce. Luvox knew if he pushed Veen too far he might find himself on the wrong side of a ministry weapon.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Finish up with the prisoner's, we need to get rid of them sooner than I thought."

Luvox wanted to protest, "How long?" He asked instead.

"Tonight. I don't think they'll act before then. Do what you can."

Veen slid off his desk, and returned to his seat, lifting a particular slip of paper, effectively dismissing Luvox.
Archer had regained control of his legs and arms, but he wasn't very coordinated. He had noticed immediately that Hoshi and Trip were out; he guessed they were stunned. He recalled vague impressions of a fight and weapons discharged.

He had dragged them over to the bed, trying to make them as comfortable as possible. It had been about thirty minutes before they had woken, complaining of intense headaches.

That morale thing had done the impossible, and sunk to even lower depths. Archer's entire body felt beaten and bruised. He tried to get his legs to stretch but they twitched instead. Trip and Hoshi noticed his discomfort.

"Do you need some help?" Trip asked, sitting up straighter.

Archer didn't want help...but he had a growing cramp in his left calf and some of that drug must still be in his system because it hurt way more than a cramp should.

"Yeah...I've got...a cramp." He grimaced and tried to reach for his left leg, but his arm went to far to the right, missing his leg entirely.

Trip leaned over and grasped his foot in one hand, and his knee in the other, pulling his leg straight.

"How's that?"

Archer figured he'd answer once he stopped crying...okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much of one. "Good...that's good."

Trip could see he was in a lot of pain. He felt anger snake through his stomach, what he wouldn't give to take another swing at one of those aliens. If...not if, when...when he got back to Enterprise he'd ask the crewman in charge of the exercise equipment to alter the punching bag to look like one of them.

He gave one more straightening push against Archer's foot then released his leg.

"Thanks Trip." Archer spoke, quietly.

Trip looked up and found his friend watching him. "Cap'n, I don't think we're going to get out of this."

Archer could feel the hopelessness emanating from Trip. He felt a sharp pang for his friend, "We will."

Hoshi felt a tear prick the corner of her eye, watching the two friends share a private moment. She wiped it with the back of her hand. This wasn't the time for being weak. She stared ahead at the bleak metal walls and bars. I hope you're right.