Chapter 3 – Drowning.
It was incredible, listening to the stories of these two women, what Starfleet had done. My own memories of Academy laughs and fun seemed so superficial when compared to these stories. I felt embarrassed listening to them, and ever believing that Starfleet was right and just. I know we were fighting a war, but surely this could not be justified?
"Maybe" I said hesitantly, wary of how to respond after such powerful stories. "Someone will find out what's happening here. They can't keep taking innocent Starfleet officers without people asking questions."
"Natara, keep believing that" replied Jamatina.
I looked surprised at the alien word she used and, noticing my surprise, she laughed.
"Cardassian for "keep hope alive in your mind, because there isn't anything else left for you in your body. Very Cardassian, I thought when I learnt it. There was something I meant to add to my story. Before they knew who I was, I was trained in the Cardassian language to be a negotiator. An important job, one with lots of prestige. I was good, too, Hah!"
The bitterness in her voice was all too evident. I heard Laren behind me, quietly muttering to Tamler
"At least we knew what we were doing".
I turned, to see Tamler's response, and noticed him nodding quietly. He looked up and noticed that I had heard. I felt compelled to comment.
"What did you do?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
"What?" Exclaimed Laren. startled by my voice. "Oh. Maquis! That's all you need say really. Cardassians left my friends and comrades to die and then IA took me away".
Her eyes burned with revolutionary intensity as she turned to look at me. I was reminded of Eddington, who was passionate about his cause in just the same way. She opened her mouth again, to continue her story when she was interrupted by a member of the security detail in the doorway.
"OK, that's it, one hour. Back you go"
I waited to see their response. Gradually people began to shift, standing up and stretching.
"Move, move!" was the cry from the doorway, and we all began to move quickly back to the cells.
The others seemed to have learned what happened if you delayed further, as they were all quick to return. I ducked back into my cell, and heard a short countdown before the force-field came up, and an ensign took up his position at the security console again.
I suddenly felt very energised. I was desperate to go for a run, or at least to do something. I mooched around for a while, sat down, got up again, feeling all the while like a small child on a rainy day. I lay on the ground and began to do press-ups. The exercise was soothing and calmed my nerves. I lost count of how many I did, I just kept on going, until I was too exhausted to do any more. I sat on the bench looking out through the field, feeling strangely relaxed. Endorphins, I thought, and smiled to myself. I would have to find ways of remembering all that I know. Maybe I could get hold of a PADD and write things down. Who knows? I thought, and drifted into a daydream of what I was going to say to Sloan next time, what I would do, how I would win the respect of the others. It was a pleasant daydream and I must have dozed off into gentle sleep.
I woke to the sound of the ensign distributing rations. I accepted my packet and bottle and drank heavily, the exercise had left me thirsty. Curling up on the bed I then slept dreamlessly until the cells were powered up in the morning. I glanced up at the display opposite the cell, and realised that I had slept for nearly 10 hours. I was slightly shocked. I had never thought that boredom combined with moments of pressure could be so tiring.
I waited all morning for the call to interrogation. It did not come. Instead. I busied myself tidying my meagre possessions, folding my blanket and improving my hiding places. I only ate half the TKL's that were given to me for breakfast, and discreetly hid the remainder. They were unpalatable. and I longed for real food. I was also desperate for some action. I was wandering aimlessly round my cell trying to get rid of the adrenaline burning within me. I stopped for a minute. to try to calm my nerves and heard, over the noise of the life support systems, a low chanting. Walking to my cell door and looking out, I saw Ro Laren standing in her cell, chanting. I listened, the long, drawn-out syllables filling the air. I noticed that the others in the other cells were standing to listen. Even Sonak stopped his meditation to listen. I felt at peace, the Bajoran words were beautiful and I was reminded of the times that I had heard both Nerys and the Captain use them.
The chanting seemed to bring calmness to the whole room, and for a minute both us and the guard on the console were united. Then this feeling was broken like a stone going through ice by Sloan's voice, echoing loudly as he walked through the airlock. I took a step back from the force-field. expecting him to drop it and march in my cell. Instead, the guards went over to Sonak's cell, and led Sonak out. Though he was wearing restraints, Sonak was able to maintain quiet dignity. I guessed by the way the others were watching him that they envied his calm, and later that day I would see why.
I sat in the cell, feeling awkward. I was not sure what to do with myself. I moved and sat on the bench facing the door, looking out. I could see that Ben was writing on a PADD, Laren was asleep on her bench. Time dragged so slowly. I could not believe that five days ago, I had still been the CMO of DS9. I sighed, and sat on the bench, watching my feet. An air of apathy hung over the whole cell block like a fog, it was very quiet, so quiet that I could hear the air vents roaring away in some hidden part of the room. Sighing again, I slid off my bench and began the MoK'Bara which Worf had begun to teach me when I had been on DS9. Focussing on my breathing, I performed the ritual movements, repeating the few I knew over and over, oxygenating my blood and stretching my muscles.
I started to invent my own moves, allowing them to follow naturally from the ones I already knew. I used springball actions to form my moves, letting my arms sweep through the air. I began to experiment with ways to stretch all my muscles, and as I did so, I remembered Worf on 371. He had taught the MoK'Bara as way of keeping ourselves ready for action, as those who appeared weak would be the first to be taken into the ring and forced to face the Jem'Hadar guards.
As I moved, I thought about 371 more deeply. I remembered that prison vividly. I had been there just over a month. But there I had been tense all the time, looking over my shoulder, never letting my guard down, never appearing weak. It had been the only way to survive, as Martok had taught me. In this prison, I was feeling bored. I realised that I was relaxing, and I worried that I was becoming too soft, too accustomed to my fate, and that I would miss a chance when it came. In that moment, I resolved to complete the moves of the MoK'Bara every day, and to keep myself in perfect fitness, both in mind and body until my chance came. I laughed at the déjà vu. I had said the same things when I had been at 371.
However, eventually I stopped exercising and fell back into apathy. An atmosphere of boredom and lassitude hung over the cell block, sapping my strength. The atmosphere broke, though, with all the suddenness of a summer storm, as Sonak appeared in the doorway, tied with restraints and flanked by guards. As if a silent signal passed between cells, everyone sat up and watched. We all knew that now Sonak was back. any of us could be next.
The tension in the air did not dissipate as we were given lunch. We were all waiting to know who would be next, the atmosphere was palpable and Laren especially, looked worried. Sloan and his posse marched in just as we were eating and entered Laren's cell. A few seconds later, they emerged with Laren walking between them, restrained. I watched with a horrible feeling of relief, ashamed at myself for being glad that it was her not me. I remembered this from when I was at 371, every time the guards entered our barrack, I had been relieved when they took others to fight them rather than me. I was amazed at how much of that experience came back to me now I was here. I had buried so much of it. that it was all flying back now. I tried to push it back down and think instead of happy times on DS9.
The daydreams continued. I remembered drinks at Quark's and playing darts. The time three years ago when I was hopelessly beaten by O'Brien at springball. I remembered when Miles and I were trapped in a bunker, him with injury from a Harvester weapon, when we had become friends. Even when we had both been confined to a holding cell for fighting drunkenly on the promenade. Happier times, which made the pain here so much worse. Just as I was feeling myself sink again into depression, Laren returned. Her feet dragged along the floor as two guards marched her along, hands under her shoulders. They put her into her cell, laying her gently on the bench and quietly removing her restraints. As soon as they left, she sat up with her head in her hands, sobbing quietly. We all stared for maybe a second before busying ourselves, avoiding her eye.
Her sobbing, quiet as it was, echoed around the cell block, breaking the silence. I realised that I must have made the same noise when I came in, when I had been in tears, and I was suddenly embarrassed. I wondered if everyone had gone through the same thing when they had arrived here. I could not mull over it for long, though because the guards called for association early. Maybe they sensed that Laren needed our support, or maybe they were just bored.
Obediently we all trooped out with mattresses and TKL's. Laren hesitated before Ben waved to her to come out. She lowered her head, as if ashamed of herself and came into the circle. I sat awkwardly, not knowing what to do, when kabe'Etana put her hand gently on Laren's shoulder. She clutched Etana's hand and sobbed, curling in on herself. Finally she seemed to pull herself together. Plucking up courage. I turned to her and asked
What happened in there?"
She glanced up at the sound of my voice and exploded.
"They think I'm scum because of who I am. They hate the Maquis and they hate me. They think its my fault that all these people have died in the war against the Dominion. Nothing I say can ever convince them I'm not a Dominion agent. My father was killed by Cardassians when I was twelve, isn't that enough proof that I would not work for them? They even throw Garon II at me as evidence. I've paid for that and then some but they still can't leave it behind"
I looked at her quizzically. and she carried on.
"When I was in Starfleet. I killed my away team. I made a mistake. I misjudged the situation and they died for it. I would have died to save them if I could. I tried to save others, no Starfleet people were killed by my Maquis cell. But they don't care, they blame me for millions of deaths, and I do nothing, I just sit there and take it. They even tell me that I killed my Maquis cell, and I don't fight them, I don't do anything, I just let them say it. If I could, I would kill myself but I haven't found a way to do it yet." Her voice was full of anger and hurt, and I was shocked by her admission.
After this outburst, she fell silent. The only response of the others was Ben's gentle touch on her arm, and we all sat in silence, not knowing what to say. I sensed that everyone in the cellblock had felt the same way at some time, and had looked for the easy escape. Jamatina, conscious perhaps of the atmosphere and the danger such tensions can cause with people's psyches, brought out a small wrapped parcel from the sleeve of her jump-suit.
"Have some rations", she said "eat something."
With this she offered us her TKL's. Remembering, I removed mine from where I had hidden them in the leg of my suit and offered them around as well. Laren refused her share, instead offering it to Ben. Ben pushed the slice of TKL back, over and over. Finally, with a look of disdain. Sonak waded into the silent argument. I guessed by everyone's expressions that this was rare.
"You should attempt to conserve your strength for when you most need it. Ro Laren" intoned Sonak in his deep, sonorous voice. "It is illogical to refuse food when you are hungry and it is offered, for soon you may be hungry yet without food. Take and use what you have now for you will be caught unawares if circumstances change tomorrow."
Laren looked up, startled by his words.
"I can't eat them. I keep seeing my friend's faces and wondering who lived and who died. It makes me sick to the stomach."
Then, with a wry smile, she added
"Don't worry, Sonak. I get this way sometimes. After my father was murdered. I didn't eat for three weeks."
But" replied Sonak "If you deny yourself food and die whilst they are flourishing, then you have died for no purpose. If on the other hand, they are dying or in pain, then you cannot help them if you are weak from lack of nourishment."
"OK Sonak. logic beat me. I'll eat something if it means you'll leave me alone!"
Laren pushed a bit of TKI. into her mouth. She was careful to hide the rest as the guard shifted position and called the time up. Back we all went to lie on benches and sit in silence until the cells were powered down. I sat on my bed, swinging my feet carelessly, not really thinking of anything. It was like being in stasis, alive but at the same time, strangely dead. The feeling continued for hours, until finally the cells powered down. I lay on my bed, not expecting to sleep at all, however, in the semi-darkness, I felt a wave of tiredness wash over me, and I fell into a deep sleep.
I woke before the cells were powered up for morning. Moving silently, I slipped up to the forcefield hoping to see what the other were doing. Most were awake, sitting on benches or the floor. Laren was standing in the meditation posture, and as the cell powered up, she began the chant which transfixed us all.
The guard who gave out the breakfast TKL told her rudely to shut up. We were all suddenly saddened by the interruption, the chant was one of the most beautiful parts of the day, and for her to be stopped before it was finished was as wrong-feeling as a captain being stopped partway through their log. For some reason, all the guards were on edge. Ben, Laren, Jamatina and I caught the brunt of the irritation of the guards, and from this I assumed that the Federation had suffered some sort of loss. I assumed that Sloan would choose this day to come and put pressure on us to "confess," however, he never appeared. Instead, we were harangued constantly all day.
At lunch, our TKL's were almost thrown into our cells, and were all broken up and crumbly. Laren raised her voice to complain about the standard of rations, and the response of the guards was to summarily deny us association time. I spent the whole day without any human contact, when we tried to shout through the forcefields at each other, the ensign at the security console lowered the riot doors. These doors were thick, dull metal, which fell on the outside of the forcefield. sealing me in the small space. It was strange form of suspension. like being in a one-person shuttlepod.
I felt so isolated in the sealed cell. I could not hear a thing from the outside and even when I started shouting wildly at the top of my voice, I was not heard. For a moment this gave me a wild euphoria, I sang half remembered songs from my childhood. Miles' Irish drinking songs and Bajoran chants learnt from Major Kira. This soon faded, though, I suddenly felt very alone. Music needs company, in the bleakness of my sealed cell, it found none, and died, sadly in the air. The minutes crept by and I wondered if I was being left to die in the cell, alone and forgotten.
I started to think there had been an attack, and that every one was dead except me. I could not get at the door because of the forcefield, and was left pacing my cell, feeling intensely claustrophobic. I finally identified with Garak, and his feelings in 371. I was sure the walls were closing in and that the grey cube was shrinking. I thought I had been left to die, and that the oxygen in the cell was depleting. If it was sealed, I reasoned, there could only be a certain amount of O2 in there. What if there was not enough? I began to hyperventilate, gasping for breath, feeling incredibly stupid as I did so, but unable to stop. Finally I regained some control, and sat on the bench, curling up to protect myself. Eventually, I pulled my blanket over my head. The warm, womblike darkness was the only thing that could truly calm me down.