Survivors - Past and Present
by
Nicol Leoraine
and Anon
aka VirtualQueens
Chapter 9
In Tom's already overtaxed mind, the start of the quake triggered utter panic. He could feel the walls crashing in, the air disappearing. He let out a strangled cry and reached out for anything solid to hold on to, something to anchor him in the real world and draw him away from living nightmares and the dark abyss of claustrophobia. The first thing his hand touched happened to be Chakotay's arm, and he latched onto it with something equivalent to a Klingon death grip. Painful, to say the least. The commander couldn't suppress a hiss of pain as the pilot´s nails dug into his arm. The other man was pale, his eyes wide and his breathing ragged.
"Tom - You have to calm down, you're hyperventilating." Chakotay said, though he was practically yelling in order to be heard over the grumbling from the earth, as another shudder went through the ground. It was stronger than the one before, and if they hadn't already been sitting they would have gone sprawling.
"Paris!"
The pilot only whimpered in reply. It was almost like...No, Chakotay shook his head and dismissed the idea. He'd seen Tom spend hours in cramped shuttles during his brief time in the Maquise, and on Voyager. He'd never had any problems, he couldn't be claustrophobic. None the less, the pilot had stopped whimpering and was valiantly working on an escape attempt. It would have helped if he'd been standing. His eyes were glassy and darted about like he was watching a sparing match and his pupils were dilated to the point that Chakotay doubted he could see very much at all.
"Stop moving!" Chakotay shouted, pulling Tom back to the furs and practically laying on top of him to keep the struggling man immobile.
The heat he felt coming off his body said much about his state of mind and Chakotay quickly forgot his earlier resolution to lock the pilot in the brig for the next ten years.
Tom´s struggles stopped as suddenly as they had started, and he lay limp, eyes closed, as sweat poured off his heaving chest. Hesitantly Chakotay released him, realizing the quake had stopped. The ground was once again steady, but the rumbling had been replaced with the gurgling sound of rushing water. Frantic voices came from the hall as two young men, almost boys, ran inside. They were probably looking for Conan, but found only the strangers from the storm, and Larden. The later was picking himself up off the floor and rubbing a bruised chin. After a flow of gibberish, Larden waved the young men off and limped over to Chakotay, looking at him and Paris with concern.
"Conan." Chakotay coughed out, wishing the dust would clear. "Find Conan."
Larden nodded, then pointed at the hall and shook his head firmly, as if to say they should not venture there. Chakotay let out an exhausted sigh.
"Fine. Just find Conan."
The native man frowned slightly, then said something that sounded almost reassuring. Then, with a friendly pat on the shoulder, Chakotay was left alone with Paris.
"Tom?"
The pilot just moaned in reply, and rolled onto his side. Chakotay could almost see the waves of heat pouring off him from his rising fever. There was a little tea left but it seemed powerless against the infection that raged through Paris's body, and it only paused the fever for a few hours, before it's effects vanished.
Standing with a little more effort than usually required, the commander looked around. A find dust coated everything, but the walls and roof seemed stable enough, and he couldn't see any cracks. That however seemed to be a small blessing, for the fountain was silent, it's water gone. Where the liquid had disappeared to, Chakotay didn't know. He wasn't sure he wanted to. It would take a powerful current to move the water through all the rooms, and an even more powerful quake to divert it.
Chakotay sighed slightly and picked up one of the silver bowls Conan had used earlier, and Paris's discarded vest. He'd get water from the bathroom, where he could hear the faint sounds as it ran from basin to basin. Paris needed something to drink, and he'd wet down the vest, and try to get the fever under control.
The heat was suffocating, it was harder and harder to breath. When he opened his eyes, everything was spinning, the walls coming closer and closer, the shadows threatening. Tom let out a whine and tried to pull away, to crawl somewhere safe. But there were only walls, strange light and the suffocating heat. No Chakotay, no Voyager - no weird people with faintly familiar languages.
Using the wall to pull himself upright, Tom dazedly searched for his shirt, or vest, but found it missing.
"To hell with it," he mumbled. He just wanted his comm badge, but realized they probably took it. Who they were and why they left him alone was not an answerable question. One stumbling step after the other, he made his way out of the room.
His vision was blurry and everything looked kind of funny, out of proportion, so when he passed a young boy, it looked like a huge, mis-shappen alien. Tom jerked back from the being and started running. He stumbled several times, even fell but quickly stood and resumed his flight. Nobody passed him, and he couldn't possibly know that two tunnels to his left in the great hall of stone and silver practically every person in this community was gathered, chattering worriedly about the recent happenings. Tombecame lost in a dispiritingly short amount of time, but kept running, the only thing on his mind being fresh air and wide open spaces.
When he ran into something heavy and solid he would have ignored it, but for the fact the collision knocked him to his butt. When his eyes cleared of stars and dust, he gasped out a surprised: "You!"
"Father!" B'Elanna growled, and shook her head in disbelief. The two men did bear some resemblance to one another - mostly in the resolute set of their mouths and shape of their eyes. But Aiden's youth made him taller and stronger, and the family resemblance hard to distinguish upon first glance. He was now hugging his father with such joy that B'Elanna wondered how long it had been since the two had last seen one another.
"Well. I didn't expect that." Harry admitted in a quite voice as the two men started talking in their odd language, simply gibberish to the Starfleet officer's ears. B'Elanna let out a warning growl and twitched the phaser in the direction of Aiden and his father. The older man looked at her, his eyebrows raised, but his reaction wasn't as strong as the others had been.
"You're a-"
"Half-Klingon. B'Elanna Torres," Harry introduced them, yelping a little as the woman's elbow locked with his ribs. "I'm Harry Kim. So... you are Conan?"
The man in question smiled a little and looked at his son questioningly. They traded several words.
"I'm glad to meet you. Are you with a group of two others?"
Torres frowned at the phrasing, but nodded.
"Where are they? What did you do with them?" she turned the phaser so it pointed back at Aiden, but Conan didn't seem to notice.
"Your friends are with my men. They are safe, though the one called Paris is ill and injured. Do you want to see
them?"
"Of course," Harry replied before B'Elanna could say something inappropriate.
"Lead the way," the half klingon muttered.
"Does Orsen know of your absence, my son?" Conan asked while they walked, at a gentle pace.
"I'm afraid so, Father. When we... found those strangers," he carefully avoided looking at the still fuming B'Elanna. "Orsen wanted to question them. He suspects that their arrival disturbed the earth, though I had told him nothing of our knowledge.I have to admit, that I was fairly surprised by what these two had to tell us. Did you know that the Klingons are no longer threat to our people?"
Conan shook his head, then asked in their own language:
"And why do you believe them, Aiden?"
"Because he looks worth trusting," he pointed at Harry, who smiled sheepishly, not knowing what the men were saying about him. "And she... didn't kill me right away. It was a long time ago that our people and Klingons started fighting. It seems unlikely for a war to last so long. And the man called her half-Klingon.I take this to mean that one parent was a human, for she does not look like a cross breed of any other race."
Conan seemed satisfied with this answer.
"I would prefer if you talked in English," B'Elanna growled and jabbed Aiden with the phaser. He gave an infuriatingly calm little frown, and then shrugged slightly.
"As you wish."
"How did you find our friends?" Harry asked after a moment of silence.
"We were returning to the caves and found them, followed by the storm. We took them inside. They're waiting in the Small Hall."
"So, you didn't shoot at them?" B'Elanna asked, glaring at Aiden, who blushed.
"No, why would have we? They were no threat to us."
"I just thought it might be a family trait," she replied sourly. Conan frowned at her, then at his son. Aiden shrugged.
"I was a surprised, father. I've never seen a Klingon before, and surely wasn't expecting one to arrive now. And you know Orsen - he would shoot his own brother if he spoke a wrong word."
Conan sighed at the reply, knowing well enough what his brother in law was capable of.
"Do you know what is causing these earthquakes?" Harry asked as they continued to walk.
"Is - Chakotay - your... chief?"
Harry chuckled and nodded.
"Close enough."
"Then it will be most reasonable to talk about that matter in his presence. If I'm right, then we won't have much time to discuss this and I will not waste that time saying things twice."
They just turned the corner when B'Elanna collided with someone. She kept her balance, but the other one stumbled and fell. It took several seconds for her to recognize the face.
"You!" Tom Paris asked, his eyes unnaturally wide, before his body betrayed him in another coughing fit.
"By Spirits, I swear I'll strangle him with my own two hands," Chakotay cursed as he ran through a tunnel. Reaching a crossroad he stopped and shook his head in frustration. How was he to know which way Paris had chosen? He'd left the room for just a moment to get water, and when he returned, Tom was gone.
That was maybe ten minutes ago - though it already felt like an hour. Now he stood in a circular room where four different tunnels converged, each one with the risk that he'd become lost, or buried or eaten by some mutant bat. No, this was not a good situation at all. Wearily, the ex-Maquis sat down and leaned against the cold wall. How he longed for a hot cup of tea, a long shower, and some time to meditate, and confer with his sprit guide.
He closed his eyes only for a second - yet it was some time later, when the sounds of approaching voices awoke him from a deep slumber. Chakotay jumped to his feet, reaching for his phaser, only to realize it wasn't there. He pressed himself up against the wall and listened.
"Damn it, why is he so heavy?" it was a woman's voice, one Chakotay had hoped, but not expected, to hear.
"Son, help her. It is not far now. I must ask Chakotay how your friend came to be in such a distant passage way...and alone."
"He's not our friend." B'Elanna muttered in a voice too soft for any but the semi-lucid Paris to hear. "Chakotay probably got sick of him." she added in a louder tone.
Conan seemed to take her seriously though, because he shook his head in a thoughtful manner. "I do not believe that Chakotay is the sort of man that would do such a thing. But you know him better than I." he conceded.
Deciding this was as good a time as any to make an entrance, the former Maquis captain stepped out of the shadows, directly into the path of the small party. "B'Elanna? Harry?"
Torres, who was supporting a half-conscious Paris looked at him first with confusion, then with a delighted smile.
"Good to see you, Commander," she said in light voice, "I was afraid you'd chosen to face the storm rather than share a room with this one," and she dug her elbow into Tom, who looked up dazedly.
"Hey, Commander, look w'at I found," he slurred out and the half-Klingon rolled her eyes.
"More like what we found, Chakotay. Really, how could you put up with him for so long?"
"He was mostly drugged," Chakotay replied in serious tone, taking the pilot's weight off of B'Elanna's shoulders and transferring it to his own. The engineer watched him with a surprised, 'just what the hell is going on here' sort of look, then shook her head in confusion.
Harry, who was favoring his leg more than before, limped close to her.
"At least we're together," he said, glad to find that both the Commander and Tom were alive and more or less in one piece. It was reassuring to know they once again had a leader, even if it wasn't the captain.
"Ah, and who is this?" Chakotay asked, looking at Aiden, who was examining his tattoo with un-concealed interest.
"I am Aiden, the son of Conan and Patricia. What does your tattoo mean?"
"It's an...uh, a mark of a tribe I belong to."
"Interesting. Has everyone in your tribe such a marking?"
Before Chakotay could reply, Tom spoke.
"We're all marked in some way," he slurred, sounding gloomy. " 'cept for Harry. He didn' make an' mistakes. Not like me. Nobody died' cuz of him. He isn't a traitor either. You hear that Conan?" the pilot continued, "Harry's a good kid."
Harry blushed at Tom's words, and Chakotay paled, but neither said anything. The walk continued in silence, Tom having given into the darkness and the others caught up in their own thoughts about one thing or another.
After a while Chakotay asked Harry and B'Elanna where exactly they'd been and they gladly told him.
"We must talk. Now."
They had returned to the hall that Chakotay and Paris had been in, passing Lander on the way. The man had chattered something nervously at Conan, watching Aiden and B'Elanna with distrust. Whatever Conan said seemed to sooth him and the tall man disappeared on some errand.
The still unconscious form of Tom was gently laid by Aiden and Chakotay upon the pile of furs, while Lander returned with more furs, blankets and a tray of food. The man deposited all of these items, and a leather drawstring bag bulging with items, just inside the doorway, then disappeared again. Conan removed a length of white cloth and a stone jar of goo from the bag and handed it to Chakotay, motioning to the half-asleep Harry and his swollen ankle. While Chakotay tended to Harry's leg, B'Elanna washed in the adjacent room and then returned, hesitantly picking at a piece of fruit from the plate Lander had brought. She had an urge to make a joke - preferably about Paros - but the pilot's pasty color and labored breathing made her hesitate. In the relative brightness of the room she could see the scars that covered his chest, abdomen and wrapped around to his back. As she peeled a purple spotted fruit she wondered just how the young man had come to have such a large number of ugly scars on his body. A few of them looked recent too. Now she wasn't one to stop a little fight between those not quite friends but not really enemies, but she'd never condone nasty weapons like those needed to leave Paris's scars, at least not between the crew of one ship. She didn't like him, but even she was repulsed by the idea of trying to kill Tom, or even cause injuries severe enough to leave the scars she saw on him now.
Pushing away these thoughts, as if they might infect her, she looked away from the delirious pilot, trying not to let her sympathy show.
It was easier to concentrate on other, less emotionally confusing things, so she watched Aiden, trying to discern if he was hiding something or still hadn't shown them the crystal - the little blue thing he'd claimed was the key to the city.
"This conversation has been too long in coming, and for that I am sorry," Conan said as he poured the tea into a silver cup and walked over to Tom. He gently lifted the pilot's head and put the cup to his lips, urging him to drink the liquid. Tom grimaced but choked down the tea, too confused to fight. Conan listened to his breathing and then, with a half satisfied shake of his head, sat next to his son.
"I think our first problem is the storm - and the earthquake. Do they relate?" Chakotay asked.
"I believe so," Conan said.
"How? I mean - why now?"
"Because of your arrival, Chakotay. If the writings are true, then the shield is what is causing the storms and the earthquake."
"Shield?"
"What writings?"
"In the Chamber of knowledge. There is a writing on the walls, and some on stone knowledge of how to read the language has been lost to us, but some has been passed through the generations by stories, and there are pictures along with the words. Many seasons ago there were other people living on this world, not human people. They were the builders of the city, these caves and the water system that keeps these rooms, and those in the city,from becoming parched. Those beings left this world a long time ago, we do not know why. But they left the shield on, perhaps to protect their city. Our ancestors arrived some time later, when the wilds had started to take over what was left. They crashed in a huge ship during a storm that supposedly lasted for weeks. But our people were strong and they survived and adapted to life here." Conan paused, taking a sip of water. "After that the storms came with every circulation of the moon. They last from one to four days. Sometimes there are also earthquakes. I lived through two - both times following a meteor shower. My parents and their parents lived through another four. But these quakes were mild, and never occurred twice in one day.
"So..." Harry said slowly "If we can turn off the shield we could probably hail Voyager, right?" he asked, earning a glare from both Chakotay and B'Elanna.
"Ensign Kim," Chakotay hissed, stressing the young man's rank "I know you're aware of the Prime Directive."
Harry had the good grace to look embarrassed at the reprimand.
"I don't understand your words, Chakotay," Conan started, "but I have told you all that I know. If you're afraid of what I don't know, then please spare yourself the agony. I'm very well aware you're not from this world. As I'm aware that we came from another planet. In that case, I would be more than surprised to learn you don't have a ship somewhere among the stars. Or do you have the skill of flying un-aided?"
This time it was Chakotay who blushed, while Harry heard a slight chuckle coming from the furs. He turned and was surprised to find Tom awake - and looking lucid at that. Tom winked at him, raising one finger to his mouth in an order to keep silent, then closed his eyes and resumed his pretense of sleep. It was easier to listen than participate in the conversation - and much more fun. He wasn't feeling up to a verbal sparring match with B'Elanna or Chakotay anyways
"Maybe we don't need to turn down the shield," Harry mused. "The storms will die down and we can try and get back to Voyager."
"If the shield is active, we won't be able to contact Voyager - storm or no storm," B'Elanna protested. "We can't
beam up and if the shuttle is in the same state as our other technology, we won't be using it to go anywhere. We'll be stranded- not to mention the chance that the Captain will send down another away team."
"Or the fact that the shield may react more violently to the presence of Voyager or even another shuttle." Tom said, opening his eyes. Despite his weariness, he felt the need to speak.
"Glad you joined us," B'Elanna grumbled. Tom shot her a look that might have been annoyed but just looked sleepy, then ignored her.
"He is right, though," Conan spoke. "Is your ship...Voyager...bigger than the ship you landed here?"
"Yeah, you can say that."
"You saw what the first shuttle caused. There's no way to tell how the presence of something larger will affect the shield."
"Father is right. We need to turn it off - the sooner the better," Aiden said. As if to prove his words, the ground shook again, just slightly, like a person who's just waking up.
Everyone braced themselves for another large quake, but the shaking stopped almost immediately.
"We must go." Conan said suddenly, rising to his feet. "Chakotay I must show you the Chamber. Perhaps you will understand the language, and if you do not, then maybe you will know more of the drawings that accompany them."
"Tom?" Chakotay asked, glancing at the pilot, who was looking feverish again.
"Aiden. Take Tom Paris to the back hall and stay with him. Use the sand gauge, we will be back in one full turn. Cynthia has more of the tea, give him as much as you can."
"Yes father." the young man said, apparently not minding that he would be excluded from the impromptu history lesson Chakotay was about to experience. Aiden draped Paris over his shoulders with a brotherly care and the two left the room at a slow pace, heading up a nearby passage way that was obviously used often.
"Come." Conan said quickly, turning in the opposite direction. "We must hurry." he added, as if the frequent shudders form the ground were not motivation enough.
"Rest." Aiden said as he gently lay Paris upon a new pile of furs. They'd walked for only a short time, all of it uphill, and Tom was exhausted. The room they were in now was smaller than the other, with only one small (still running though) fountain. There was a low wooden table and two piles of furs, as well as the glowing roof moss.
"Can't." Tom wheezed out, his eyes half closed.
"Why?"
"Because." he said, letting his head fall back onto the soft bed. "It's about to start. I can feel it, just like the ship before we jump to warp."
Like a giant rolling in his sleep the ground rolled and shook with tremendous force, and then, with a horrific sound of crashing stone the passage way Harry, B'Elanna, Chakotay and Conan were in simply ceased to exist. And when it finally came to an end, there would be two tons of rock and rubble separating the away team and their guide from one another.
Two left turns and half a mile away Tom and Aiden were involved intheir own fight for survival.
A/N: Sorry. Both of us are having problems getting to our computers. Please review, with comments/suggestions, or just to say that you read it. It's so great to just know that people are reading and gives us an extra push when we're piddling around writing the next chapter.
Some spaces have been disappearing. I tried to fix them all but if some words are all run together I'm really sorry,