2210
Lt. Paris' Quarters
Tom looked at himself in the mirror. He could have looked worse, but right now he was sure he could scare small children by just looking in their general direction. He almost laughed when he had a mental image of the small thought. Almost. B'Elanna and Chakotay hadn't checked in when they were supposed to. He knew that it had been a rather large worrying factor for everyone when the Blithians had made it clear that using commbadges on their planet was an act of some kind of espionage, but they had taken care of that worry somewhat when they offered their hailing services to the two officers who were coming to their planet. They had taken care of the Universal Translator problem when the Doctor suggested implanting one in each of their ears. They had enough battery power to last 6 months, Tom knew, but he hoped that they wouldn't need that 6 months of battery power. He didn't know what was going on in that planet. Maybe there was some kind of problem that disabled the communications on the alien world, but Tom had a feeling that wasn't the case.
He rubbed his face with his hands, as if to wipe off some kind of thing that was foreign to him that was not pleasant. Like fear. Fear for his, well, his everything. His friend, his confidante, his lover. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't do anything about it. Sure, he could tell the Captain, but he had a feeling that she also thought that something was going terribly wrong. And what could she do? Jump from the ship to the planet, knowing that they wouldn't allow Voyager any closer than it already is, fight off millions of the inhabitants, photon rifle blazing, rescue Chakotay and B'Elanna from god knows what, jump back to Voyager, and ride into the sunset, safe and sound? Of course, Tom would be right beside her the whole time, and he knew that he was willing to do anything to make sure B'Elanna was safe, but he also knew it wasn't practical. Or what Tuvok would readily point out, logical.
He sat on his bed, knowing that he needed some sleep since he would start his shift at 0700, but he couldn't will himself to rest. Not while B'Elanna was in possible danger. He half heartedly smiled. He realized that B'Elanna could take care of herself, and anyone saying differently would be most unpleasantly surprised, especially when she proved them wrong in her most charming technique. He just hoped she and Chakotay were fine, and that his gut feeling was a case of indigestion. But he knew that it was just wishful thinking.
2240
Mess Hall
Seven was restless, and she didn't know why, or maybe she wouldn't acknowledge why. She knew that she was worried about Chakotay and B'Elanna, like everyone else, but that was normal, right? She wanted to talk to the Doctor about her feelings and thoughts of lately, but he was busy with the slide show he was preparing for the crew. Seven furrowed her brow, thinking about the next possible time the Doctor would be free to continue with her lessons. Sighing, she realized that it probably wouldn't be until after the Commander and Lieutenant came back on board. But when would that be? And why was she so anxious about their not returning?
She did have to admit that she thought highly of the Commander. He was an exceptional authority figure, and he knew how to command a whole starship. And she did enjoy it when he would join her in the Mess Hall when it was time to have one of her nutrition supplements the Doctor had prescribed for her. And that was saying a lot since she cherished her privacy, and still not comfortable around people in certain situations. Yes, she thought, Chakotay was an individual that she had grown to respect, and perhaps even like.
And B'Elanna…Well, with B'Elanna you just had to tolerate her rather assertive nature, though Seven did have to admit that she was extremely intelligent and competent. And she could be pleasant if you got her in the right mood.
Seven glanced at the clock above the serving bar, and almost fell out of her chair. She still had to regenerate, then report to duty in a little over 6 hours. She lifted herself out of her chair, and headed toward the door. Just before reaching the sliding doors, she paused, and turned toward the planet that filled the large bay windows. For the first time in years, she felt heartsick. And lonely.
0100
Captain's Ready Room
Kathryn Janeway stared at the monitor of her computer, seeing nothing. What was she going to do? She knew that she was going to have to hold a meeting for the senior staff members and tell them about the message an anonymous individual sent her about her missing crew members. As she rubbed her mouth, she kept thinking about what she would tell Tom about B'Elanna, about them being sold into the Blithian equivalent of the black market. And how would she tell everyone that there was no way to find out where they were sent in the Delta Quadrant, which labor camp.
She got up from her chair and walked over to the Rembrandt sculpture she had splurged on when she was first assigned to Voyager. She ran her hand over it, thinking of all the dreams she had shared with her fiancé, David. And all of the dreams that were gone now, since he had married some other woman one year after the U.S.S. Voyager was pronounced lost. She remembered the sick hollow feeling in her stomach when she read the message he had sent to her when the worm hole that allowed contact with Starfleet was open. The heartache and loss. But she had gotten through that, though she was still not completely over it. But she hoped that they would reach Earth before she would grow too old to find someone to share the remainder of her life with, however long that might be. The Captain slid her hand off the sculpture, her hand trembling. But now Chakotay and B'Elanna would never have that opportunity or choice.
'Stop it, Janeway", she told herself. She berated herself. Here she was, already thinking of their eulogies, already dead and buried, and she hadn't even given them a fighting chance. Hadn't even searched for them. There had to be some kind of way to track them down, to find people who had seen them. After all, there was only one human, that wasn't on the ship, in the Delta Quadrant. And even better, only one Klingon period in the whole Quadrant. They had to look odd to some persons who had never heard of either races before. So surly they would remember seeing them when they would be transported to the slave camp. That is, if they were in fact being sold into slavery. She walked over to her desk, and looked at the message again:
Cpt. Janeway, I am writing this to inform you that your officers have been sold to a slave marketer. I suggest you accept this loss and go on about your way if you do not desire trouble for your entire crew. Do not try to contact me in any way. It would be useless to do so and would only cause you more trouble than what you already have. I will tell this to you though, that most slaves are sent to mine for precious metals and, if especially abhorred, radioactive material. Please use your discretion in this knowledge.
That was all that he had written. But it did give them a fighting chance to find them. And that's all that Voyager has ever had, and look at them now. They had been wandering in this Quadrant for years, and they were still alive and kicking. So why not two of her experienced officers? Yes, she thought, they still had a chance, but they would have to act quickly.
Time and Location Unknown
She felt something rumble underneath her. For one bizarre moment, she thought she was back on her home planet Nessik. She almost expected to open her eyes to see her mother sitting on her bed, rubbing her arm to wake her. And then that was when it hit her. She wasn't on Nessik. In fact, she had no idea where she was.
She heard a groan a couple of feet away from her, and instinctively knew it was Chakotay. She willed her eyes open and almost gasped at the pain that exploded through her head. She slowly sat up, wincing at the pain in her leg, and placed both of her hands on the sides of her head, as if to keep it from rolling off. Glancing to her right, she saw a figure a yard away from her moving. She leaned down, ready to defend herself from this unknown person. The figure moaned again, and she relaxed. She crawled over to Chakotay and rolled him over to his back. Suddenly he lunged, grabbing her by her throat and squeezing. Surprised, B'Elanna tried to tell him that it was okay, that it was only her. But the only sound she could emit was a low gurgle. Lifting one of her hands, she chopped at the nerve at the base of his elbow. His grip loosened, and she wrestled out of his grasp.
"What the hell's wrong with you?", she wheezed, rubbing at her throat.
Chakotay looked up, still slightly dazed. "B'Elanna? Was that you?" He tried to stand up, but promptly fell unceremoniously on the gritty floor.
B'Elanna went to him on all fours and placed her hands on his shoulders, gently lowering him to the ground. She looked at his face and saw a large gash on his forehead, no doubt the reason for his dizziness. "Chakotay, do you hear me?", she asked.
He moaned and looked up at her. He smiled slightly and murmured, "Hey maquis." He sat up, grimacing. "So, do you have any idea where we are?".
B'Elanna shook her head. "I just came to a couple of minutes ago. But I think we're on a ship of some sort. I can feel engines reverberating, so it must be some kind of low class ship." She paused, not wanting to say what both of them were thinking. But Chakotay beat her to it.
"Well, that Aqwerty fellow had asked us if we would enjoy mining for radioactive materials. But the idiot had those guards knock us unconscious before we could voice our objections, though I doubt he would have cared", he said sardonically. He looked around the small holding chamber, looking for a door. He sighed and faced B'Elanna. "I guess we should take care of our injuries and come up with some plan before we have visitors." Chakotay fingered the wound on his forehead, wincing. "I think other than the expected bumps and bruises, and this nasty gash, I'm good to go" he said, already looking down at her thigh. "You, on the other hand, are another story. How's your leg?", he asked as he bent down.
B'Elanna stepped back, uncomfortable with the attention. She had always hated it when she had to go to the Doctor, unwilling to accept weakness of any sort. She knew that it would be extremely idiotic to avoid treatment now, considering their circumstances, but old habits die hard.
"Umm, it still hurts, but I think it'll be fine. I just have to avoid infection, and when we get back to Voyager, the Doctor will take care of the rest", she said, lowering herself to the floor. She was still kind of sore from having to wake up, then defending herself against Chakotay. She looked up at him, wondering what he was thinking. She met his eyes, and saw right there that he didn't believe what she had said. Sure, the Doctor would look after her "if" they got back to Voyager. They had no idea where they themselves were at the moment, so how could they expect the Captain to find them?
B'Elanna was just opening her mouth to tell him not to worry when a door that had been hidden in the shadows opened to reveal 4 men. Three of them stayed back by the door as their apparent leader marched up to them. Chakotay and B'Elanna stood up, with Chakotay in the front. Since he was the ranking officer between the two, it was his responsibility to negotiate and protect the officers under his command. At least this is what B'Elanna told herself, resisting the urge to meet the man nose to nose.
The man stopped in front of Chakotay and said, "I am here to inform you that you have two choices to make. One, if you want to live, and two, for how long."
The Blithian, upon being closer and easier to see, resembled a weasel, with dank brown hair and nose that seemed to twitch every few seconds. B'Elanna immediately dubbed him Mortimer, the class mascot when she was in grade school. She had been 13 when her teacher had brought in the weasel, something she had never seen before. At first, she had thought it was a project from biology class gone wrong. Then she was enlightened that it was actually a quite common creature on Earth, though a pesky one. B'Elanna had been disgusted by it at first sight.
Mortimer pierced B'Elanna with his eyes, a leer curling his lips and making him even more repulsive than before thought possible. She met his stare head on, her head held high, almost arrogantly. There was no way she was going to be intimidated by this middle-man rodent. In fact, she thought, she would just like to see him try something, just so that she could have the excuse to wring his scrawny neck. She almost snorted when she pictured him trying to fight back.
Chakotay saw the sneer that this man sent B'Elanna, and he had no doubt whatsoever what was going through her head. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he said, "Go on, we're listening."
Mortimer smirked. "You have the choice of either telling us of your technology, and the intentions of your starship when it first arrived in our territory, or you can start mining raw materials as early as tomorrow morning. Of course, if you go with the former, we will return you to your ship, unscathed. However, if you choose the latter, you will die within 3 months." He looked at the both of them, seemingly thrilled at the prospect of them working their hands raw, and eventually dying from exposure to radioactive matter.
Even before Mortimer was finished with his discourse, Chakotay was shaking his head. "It's a crime in our culture to give technology to other peoples. Its called the Prime Directive, and its punishment is very severe. You'll just have to tell your superiors that its just not possible for us to do this." Chakotay said this firmly, without any room for argument.
Mortimer's face turned a shade of red that B'Elanna had never seen before until now. She looked at Chakotay and saw that his jaw line was firm, unrelenting. Perhaps she can buy them time, she thought. Chakotay probably wouldn't be thrilled about what she was about to do, but if there was more time for them to figure out where they were, they might somehow contact Voyager. Her mind raced, two different wars going on inside of her head. One side, the maquis side, told her to do whatever it took to ensure their lives, including using unorthodox means. The other side, Starfleet, told her to follow protocol, which was, of course, to remain silent, just offering your name and rank.
So which side would she heed? The Starfleet side was more disciplined, of course. If she did decide to do whatever it takes to live, she could face a court-martial, and severe disciplinary action. But what if she isn't alive to be disciplined? If she could just somehow have Mortimer leave them alone and be able to talk with Chakotay about different options, that would be ideal. However, she didn't think that Chakotay would agree with her, atleast not right away.
Just as Mortimer turned on his heel with a huff, B'Elanna decided what action to take.
"Wait!", she said, taking a step toward the twitchy man. Chakotay whirled around, pinning her with his eyes.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Lieutenant? Stand down, NOW", Chakotay said through clenched teeth.
"Yes, uh, Lieutenant?", Mortimer asked with expectation in his voice. He stepped toward her, nodding toward the guards by the door, who started to come into the room.
B'Elanna swallowed, wondering if she went too far this time. No, she tells herself, she needs to get herself and Chakotay to safety, away from these people. She knew that if she didn't do it in time, they would be dead. "If you leave the Commander and I alone to discuss this, we may come to an agreement." She looked pointedly at the guards advancing toward them, then back to Mortimer. "But only if you leave us alone, and not to listen in on our conversation." She looked at him, refusing to back down to this man.
Mortimer considered this, weighing his options. "Fine, but I want something definite." He started to walk away, then turned back. "And if you don't stick to our agreement, you will regret it." He stared at B'Elanna, then to Chakotay, then swished on his delicate feet and walked out of the room with his posse.
As soon as they were gone, Chakotay whirled around to B'Elanna, furious. "You had better tell me what the hell got into you, Lieutenant, before I throw your sorry rear end to the next Quadrant", he whispered through clenched teeth.
B'Elanna nodded, trying to figure out what to say to him. "Chakotay, we need to buy time. We need to pretend to consider giving them information, that way maybe they'll let us out of this storage deck, and into somewhere where they have a communication system of some sort." She looked up at Chakotay, wanting to see his reaction. To her surprise, he had a contemplating look on his face. Finally, he nodded.
"You're right. Now we just have to decide how to deceive him into thinking we're cooperating. Any ideas?"
B'Elanna nodded slowly. "Yes, but its risky. I think that maybe I can tell them how to overload the warp engines. You see, at first you actually get more power, and therefore go faster, but then it eventually heats the engines and they give out, sometimes for good. We can chalk it up to that their ship is old, and not able to tolerate the energy output as well as Voyager." She took a deep breath, trying to steady her heartbeat. "We just have to hope that they'll take us to another part of the ship when we tell them this, and then try to break free."
Chakotay nodded, thinking. He knew that this was the one chance they would have before they would be sent to the mining fields. "Lets do it. But one thing, no if, ands, or buts about it, okay? We do not, under any circumstances, split up, got it?" He looked at her for a long time, making sure that she knew that he was dead serious about this.
She nodded. "Agreed", she said, looking him in the eyes as she said it. She knew just as well as he did that they couldn't be separated, risking losing each other. "Ok, lets get Mortimer in here, and tell him how to tinker with his ship."
Chakotay looked at her, confused. "Mortimer?"
She snorted. "It's a long story. Short version, he reminds me of a rodent that had the pleasure of my acquaintance. His name happened to be Mortimer."
Chakotay nodded, smiling. "I'll trust that its well called for. Now, as for negotiating, we need to talk to wee Mortimer." He turned toward the door, and cupped his hands around his mouth. "We're ready!", he yelled.
Just after Chakotay bellowed, Mortimer opened the door and scurried into the room. "Well, what do you have for me?"
B'Elanna stepped beside Chakotay. "I can help you rig your engines to where they can have as much as 55% more power. However, I need to do this personally, and the Commander needs to assist me." She looked at him, expecting her heart to burst as it beat faster and faster, louder and louder. If this worked, they could be buying their ticket to home. If it didn't, well…
Mortimer was absolutely delighted. Not only would he have faster engines, but these two pesky aliens could be sold for a pretty penny to the highest bidder. Aqwerty had told him that as long as he never would have to see these two again alive, he could do anything with them. "That sounds like a good start. Lets start right now." He started walking toward the door, fully expecting them to follow him.
"Just one more thing. We're both hungry and need medical attention. If you want us to perform optimally, we need both of these things." She looked at Chakotay, and saw him nod. They both knew that they needed to take care of their physical needs before they would attempt a big escapade.
Mortimer considered this, then bobbed his head in agreement. "Of course. Lets get this over and done with." He fluttered from the room.
Chakotay and B'Elanna looked at each other, amazed. "Lets just hope that we have a successful sabotage session, and then get the hell out of here", B'Elanna murmured. Though for some reason, she had a feeling that something wouldn't go according to plan.
Lt. Paris' Quarters
Tom looked at himself in the mirror. He could have looked worse, but right now he was sure he could scare small children by just looking in their general direction. He almost laughed when he had a mental image of the small thought. Almost. B'Elanna and Chakotay hadn't checked in when they were supposed to. He knew that it had been a rather large worrying factor for everyone when the Blithians had made it clear that using commbadges on their planet was an act of some kind of espionage, but they had taken care of that worry somewhat when they offered their hailing services to the two officers who were coming to their planet. They had taken care of the Universal Translator problem when the Doctor suggested implanting one in each of their ears. They had enough battery power to last 6 months, Tom knew, but he hoped that they wouldn't need that 6 months of battery power. He didn't know what was going on in that planet. Maybe there was some kind of problem that disabled the communications on the alien world, but Tom had a feeling that wasn't the case.
He rubbed his face with his hands, as if to wipe off some kind of thing that was foreign to him that was not pleasant. Like fear. Fear for his, well, his everything. His friend, his confidante, his lover. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't do anything about it. Sure, he could tell the Captain, but he had a feeling that she also thought that something was going terribly wrong. And what could she do? Jump from the ship to the planet, knowing that they wouldn't allow Voyager any closer than it already is, fight off millions of the inhabitants, photon rifle blazing, rescue Chakotay and B'Elanna from god knows what, jump back to Voyager, and ride into the sunset, safe and sound? Of course, Tom would be right beside her the whole time, and he knew that he was willing to do anything to make sure B'Elanna was safe, but he also knew it wasn't practical. Or what Tuvok would readily point out, logical.
He sat on his bed, knowing that he needed some sleep since he would start his shift at 0700, but he couldn't will himself to rest. Not while B'Elanna was in possible danger. He half heartedly smiled. He realized that B'Elanna could take care of herself, and anyone saying differently would be most unpleasantly surprised, especially when she proved them wrong in her most charming technique. He just hoped she and Chakotay were fine, and that his gut feeling was a case of indigestion. But he knew that it was just wishful thinking.
2240
Mess Hall
Seven was restless, and she didn't know why, or maybe she wouldn't acknowledge why. She knew that she was worried about Chakotay and B'Elanna, like everyone else, but that was normal, right? She wanted to talk to the Doctor about her feelings and thoughts of lately, but he was busy with the slide show he was preparing for the crew. Seven furrowed her brow, thinking about the next possible time the Doctor would be free to continue with her lessons. Sighing, she realized that it probably wouldn't be until after the Commander and Lieutenant came back on board. But when would that be? And why was she so anxious about their not returning?
She did have to admit that she thought highly of the Commander. He was an exceptional authority figure, and he knew how to command a whole starship. And she did enjoy it when he would join her in the Mess Hall when it was time to have one of her nutrition supplements the Doctor had prescribed for her. And that was saying a lot since she cherished her privacy, and still not comfortable around people in certain situations. Yes, she thought, Chakotay was an individual that she had grown to respect, and perhaps even like.
And B'Elanna…Well, with B'Elanna you just had to tolerate her rather assertive nature, though Seven did have to admit that she was extremely intelligent and competent. And she could be pleasant if you got her in the right mood.
Seven glanced at the clock above the serving bar, and almost fell out of her chair. She still had to regenerate, then report to duty in a little over 6 hours. She lifted herself out of her chair, and headed toward the door. Just before reaching the sliding doors, she paused, and turned toward the planet that filled the large bay windows. For the first time in years, she felt heartsick. And lonely.
0100
Captain's Ready Room
Kathryn Janeway stared at the monitor of her computer, seeing nothing. What was she going to do? She knew that she was going to have to hold a meeting for the senior staff members and tell them about the message an anonymous individual sent her about her missing crew members. As she rubbed her mouth, she kept thinking about what she would tell Tom about B'Elanna, about them being sold into the Blithian equivalent of the black market. And how would she tell everyone that there was no way to find out where they were sent in the Delta Quadrant, which labor camp.
She got up from her chair and walked over to the Rembrandt sculpture she had splurged on when she was first assigned to Voyager. She ran her hand over it, thinking of all the dreams she had shared with her fiancé, David. And all of the dreams that were gone now, since he had married some other woman one year after the U.S.S. Voyager was pronounced lost. She remembered the sick hollow feeling in her stomach when she read the message he had sent to her when the worm hole that allowed contact with Starfleet was open. The heartache and loss. But she had gotten through that, though she was still not completely over it. But she hoped that they would reach Earth before she would grow too old to find someone to share the remainder of her life with, however long that might be. The Captain slid her hand off the sculpture, her hand trembling. But now Chakotay and B'Elanna would never have that opportunity or choice.
'Stop it, Janeway", she told herself. She berated herself. Here she was, already thinking of their eulogies, already dead and buried, and she hadn't even given them a fighting chance. Hadn't even searched for them. There had to be some kind of way to track them down, to find people who had seen them. After all, there was only one human, that wasn't on the ship, in the Delta Quadrant. And even better, only one Klingon period in the whole Quadrant. They had to look odd to some persons who had never heard of either races before. So surly they would remember seeing them when they would be transported to the slave camp. That is, if they were in fact being sold into slavery. She walked over to her desk, and looked at the message again:
Cpt. Janeway, I am writing this to inform you that your officers have been sold to a slave marketer. I suggest you accept this loss and go on about your way if you do not desire trouble for your entire crew. Do not try to contact me in any way. It would be useless to do so and would only cause you more trouble than what you already have. I will tell this to you though, that most slaves are sent to mine for precious metals and, if especially abhorred, radioactive material. Please use your discretion in this knowledge.
That was all that he had written. But it did give them a fighting chance to find them. And that's all that Voyager has ever had, and look at them now. They had been wandering in this Quadrant for years, and they were still alive and kicking. So why not two of her experienced officers? Yes, she thought, they still had a chance, but they would have to act quickly.
Time and Location Unknown
She felt something rumble underneath her. For one bizarre moment, she thought she was back on her home planet Nessik. She almost expected to open her eyes to see her mother sitting on her bed, rubbing her arm to wake her. And then that was when it hit her. She wasn't on Nessik. In fact, she had no idea where she was.
She heard a groan a couple of feet away from her, and instinctively knew it was Chakotay. She willed her eyes open and almost gasped at the pain that exploded through her head. She slowly sat up, wincing at the pain in her leg, and placed both of her hands on the sides of her head, as if to keep it from rolling off. Glancing to her right, she saw a figure a yard away from her moving. She leaned down, ready to defend herself from this unknown person. The figure moaned again, and she relaxed. She crawled over to Chakotay and rolled him over to his back. Suddenly he lunged, grabbing her by her throat and squeezing. Surprised, B'Elanna tried to tell him that it was okay, that it was only her. But the only sound she could emit was a low gurgle. Lifting one of her hands, she chopped at the nerve at the base of his elbow. His grip loosened, and she wrestled out of his grasp.
"What the hell's wrong with you?", she wheezed, rubbing at her throat.
Chakotay looked up, still slightly dazed. "B'Elanna? Was that you?" He tried to stand up, but promptly fell unceremoniously on the gritty floor.
B'Elanna went to him on all fours and placed her hands on his shoulders, gently lowering him to the ground. She looked at his face and saw a large gash on his forehead, no doubt the reason for his dizziness. "Chakotay, do you hear me?", she asked.
He moaned and looked up at her. He smiled slightly and murmured, "Hey maquis." He sat up, grimacing. "So, do you have any idea where we are?".
B'Elanna shook her head. "I just came to a couple of minutes ago. But I think we're on a ship of some sort. I can feel engines reverberating, so it must be some kind of low class ship." She paused, not wanting to say what both of them were thinking. But Chakotay beat her to it.
"Well, that Aqwerty fellow had asked us if we would enjoy mining for radioactive materials. But the idiot had those guards knock us unconscious before we could voice our objections, though I doubt he would have cared", he said sardonically. He looked around the small holding chamber, looking for a door. He sighed and faced B'Elanna. "I guess we should take care of our injuries and come up with some plan before we have visitors." Chakotay fingered the wound on his forehead, wincing. "I think other than the expected bumps and bruises, and this nasty gash, I'm good to go" he said, already looking down at her thigh. "You, on the other hand, are another story. How's your leg?", he asked as he bent down.
B'Elanna stepped back, uncomfortable with the attention. She had always hated it when she had to go to the Doctor, unwilling to accept weakness of any sort. She knew that it would be extremely idiotic to avoid treatment now, considering their circumstances, but old habits die hard.
"Umm, it still hurts, but I think it'll be fine. I just have to avoid infection, and when we get back to Voyager, the Doctor will take care of the rest", she said, lowering herself to the floor. She was still kind of sore from having to wake up, then defending herself against Chakotay. She looked up at him, wondering what he was thinking. She met his eyes, and saw right there that he didn't believe what she had said. Sure, the Doctor would look after her "if" they got back to Voyager. They had no idea where they themselves were at the moment, so how could they expect the Captain to find them?
B'Elanna was just opening her mouth to tell him not to worry when a door that had been hidden in the shadows opened to reveal 4 men. Three of them stayed back by the door as their apparent leader marched up to them. Chakotay and B'Elanna stood up, with Chakotay in the front. Since he was the ranking officer between the two, it was his responsibility to negotiate and protect the officers under his command. At least this is what B'Elanna told herself, resisting the urge to meet the man nose to nose.
The man stopped in front of Chakotay and said, "I am here to inform you that you have two choices to make. One, if you want to live, and two, for how long."
The Blithian, upon being closer and easier to see, resembled a weasel, with dank brown hair and nose that seemed to twitch every few seconds. B'Elanna immediately dubbed him Mortimer, the class mascot when she was in grade school. She had been 13 when her teacher had brought in the weasel, something she had never seen before. At first, she had thought it was a project from biology class gone wrong. Then she was enlightened that it was actually a quite common creature on Earth, though a pesky one. B'Elanna had been disgusted by it at first sight.
Mortimer pierced B'Elanna with his eyes, a leer curling his lips and making him even more repulsive than before thought possible. She met his stare head on, her head held high, almost arrogantly. There was no way she was going to be intimidated by this middle-man rodent. In fact, she thought, she would just like to see him try something, just so that she could have the excuse to wring his scrawny neck. She almost snorted when she pictured him trying to fight back.
Chakotay saw the sneer that this man sent B'Elanna, and he had no doubt whatsoever what was going through her head. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he said, "Go on, we're listening."
Mortimer smirked. "You have the choice of either telling us of your technology, and the intentions of your starship when it first arrived in our territory, or you can start mining raw materials as early as tomorrow morning. Of course, if you go with the former, we will return you to your ship, unscathed. However, if you choose the latter, you will die within 3 months." He looked at the both of them, seemingly thrilled at the prospect of them working their hands raw, and eventually dying from exposure to radioactive matter.
Even before Mortimer was finished with his discourse, Chakotay was shaking his head. "It's a crime in our culture to give technology to other peoples. Its called the Prime Directive, and its punishment is very severe. You'll just have to tell your superiors that its just not possible for us to do this." Chakotay said this firmly, without any room for argument.
Mortimer's face turned a shade of red that B'Elanna had never seen before until now. She looked at Chakotay and saw that his jaw line was firm, unrelenting. Perhaps she can buy them time, she thought. Chakotay probably wouldn't be thrilled about what she was about to do, but if there was more time for them to figure out where they were, they might somehow contact Voyager. Her mind raced, two different wars going on inside of her head. One side, the maquis side, told her to do whatever it took to ensure their lives, including using unorthodox means. The other side, Starfleet, told her to follow protocol, which was, of course, to remain silent, just offering your name and rank.
So which side would she heed? The Starfleet side was more disciplined, of course. If she did decide to do whatever it takes to live, she could face a court-martial, and severe disciplinary action. But what if she isn't alive to be disciplined? If she could just somehow have Mortimer leave them alone and be able to talk with Chakotay about different options, that would be ideal. However, she didn't think that Chakotay would agree with her, atleast not right away.
Just as Mortimer turned on his heel with a huff, B'Elanna decided what action to take.
"Wait!", she said, taking a step toward the twitchy man. Chakotay whirled around, pinning her with his eyes.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Lieutenant? Stand down, NOW", Chakotay said through clenched teeth.
"Yes, uh, Lieutenant?", Mortimer asked with expectation in his voice. He stepped toward her, nodding toward the guards by the door, who started to come into the room.
B'Elanna swallowed, wondering if she went too far this time. No, she tells herself, she needs to get herself and Chakotay to safety, away from these people. She knew that if she didn't do it in time, they would be dead. "If you leave the Commander and I alone to discuss this, we may come to an agreement." She looked pointedly at the guards advancing toward them, then back to Mortimer. "But only if you leave us alone, and not to listen in on our conversation." She looked at him, refusing to back down to this man.
Mortimer considered this, weighing his options. "Fine, but I want something definite." He started to walk away, then turned back. "And if you don't stick to our agreement, you will regret it." He stared at B'Elanna, then to Chakotay, then swished on his delicate feet and walked out of the room with his posse.
As soon as they were gone, Chakotay whirled around to B'Elanna, furious. "You had better tell me what the hell got into you, Lieutenant, before I throw your sorry rear end to the next Quadrant", he whispered through clenched teeth.
B'Elanna nodded, trying to figure out what to say to him. "Chakotay, we need to buy time. We need to pretend to consider giving them information, that way maybe they'll let us out of this storage deck, and into somewhere where they have a communication system of some sort." She looked up at Chakotay, wanting to see his reaction. To her surprise, he had a contemplating look on his face. Finally, he nodded.
"You're right. Now we just have to decide how to deceive him into thinking we're cooperating. Any ideas?"
B'Elanna nodded slowly. "Yes, but its risky. I think that maybe I can tell them how to overload the warp engines. You see, at first you actually get more power, and therefore go faster, but then it eventually heats the engines and they give out, sometimes for good. We can chalk it up to that their ship is old, and not able to tolerate the energy output as well as Voyager." She took a deep breath, trying to steady her heartbeat. "We just have to hope that they'll take us to another part of the ship when we tell them this, and then try to break free."
Chakotay nodded, thinking. He knew that this was the one chance they would have before they would be sent to the mining fields. "Lets do it. But one thing, no if, ands, or buts about it, okay? We do not, under any circumstances, split up, got it?" He looked at her for a long time, making sure that she knew that he was dead serious about this.
She nodded. "Agreed", she said, looking him in the eyes as she said it. She knew just as well as he did that they couldn't be separated, risking losing each other. "Ok, lets get Mortimer in here, and tell him how to tinker with his ship."
Chakotay looked at her, confused. "Mortimer?"
She snorted. "It's a long story. Short version, he reminds me of a rodent that had the pleasure of my acquaintance. His name happened to be Mortimer."
Chakotay nodded, smiling. "I'll trust that its well called for. Now, as for negotiating, we need to talk to wee Mortimer." He turned toward the door, and cupped his hands around his mouth. "We're ready!", he yelled.
Just after Chakotay bellowed, Mortimer opened the door and scurried into the room. "Well, what do you have for me?"
B'Elanna stepped beside Chakotay. "I can help you rig your engines to where they can have as much as 55% more power. However, I need to do this personally, and the Commander needs to assist me." She looked at him, expecting her heart to burst as it beat faster and faster, louder and louder. If this worked, they could be buying their ticket to home. If it didn't, well…
Mortimer was absolutely delighted. Not only would he have faster engines, but these two pesky aliens could be sold for a pretty penny to the highest bidder. Aqwerty had told him that as long as he never would have to see these two again alive, he could do anything with them. "That sounds like a good start. Lets start right now." He started walking toward the door, fully expecting them to follow him.
"Just one more thing. We're both hungry and need medical attention. If you want us to perform optimally, we need both of these things." She looked at Chakotay, and saw him nod. They both knew that they needed to take care of their physical needs before they would attempt a big escapade.
Mortimer considered this, then bobbed his head in agreement. "Of course. Lets get this over and done with." He fluttered from the room.
Chakotay and B'Elanna looked at each other, amazed. "Lets just hope that we have a successful sabotage session, and then get the hell out of here", B'Elanna murmured. Though for some reason, she had a feeling that something wouldn't go according to plan.