Doctor Enjetti pulled the neural calliper from her patient's head. They had worked tirelessly for two days to stabilise his injuries and heal the ones they could. She had never seen someone so malnourished and so badly beaten, at least, not someone who might be expected to live. It was time to wake him.

She'd spent hours cataloguing every injury, every treatment. Command hadn't told her much, the rescue mission was strictly need to know only, not even his name, just that he was important, that she needed to do everything she could to ensure his survival. She'd pieced him back together with a trusted team of three assistants. She knew he'd be in for a long recovery, and that was before they'd even started to address his mental health.

He was skeletal, his skin, paper-thin and grey, was stretched tight across painfully evident bones. His cheeks and eye sockets were hollows. He look emaciated, she could only guess at what he might have looked like before all this. They'd been pumping him full of a nutritional supplement but it was going to take a long time before he would return to normal. They'd cut away his matted hair, shaving it all off, then done the same for the beard and finally washed him thoroughly. When he'd been beamed aboard, he'd been filthy absolutely covered in deeply ingrained dirt. They'd dressed him in a standard blue sickbay gown, and if he weren't so thin and she didn't know what injuries he'd endured, he would have looked like any other patient. But she knew…

The brand had been the thing that had got to her. When they'd turned him in that first assessment, all of them had taken a step backwards, gasped silently, not willing to be the one who couldn't maintain their professionalism.

It was a huge ugly thing covering his entire back from shoulder to hip and right across his width. She couldn't make out what it was supposed to be, and also wasn't sure if she wanted to. It had some kind of interlinked circles or ring pattern, narrowing toward a kind of point in the centre. In the gap between each ring was an elaborate pattern, the detail of which was lost in its ugliness. It was enough that they had done this to him, clearly against his will, its purpose more than evident. It was infected, suppurating. Some of it had scarred over, some of it blackened and healing, some of it raw and blistered - fresh. She knew the various levels of healing indicated this had been done to him several times over a period of weeks or even months, and at least a few times very recently. She couldn't imagine how much it must have hurt.

She'd done her best to deal with the worst of it, but it would require months of regeneration treatments, every one of which would be a reminder to him. She didn't know where he'd been sprung from, but she was glad as hell that whoever it was had got him out of there…

Slowly, she held the wand of her tricorder in her palm and watched as her patient's heart rate started to increase and he came to wakefulness. Wild eyes snapped suddenly open, fear immediately evident in them. She was a little surprised to see such a bright and intense green… He pushed himself up onto his elbows, eyes darting around the room, chest heaving trying to take in enough air to run. She had him on a high dose of muscle relaxant so there was no way he would endanger himself, or anyone else if he woke badly. Despite the adrenaline she could see running through him from her tricorder, his movements were sluggish.

"Hello there… it's okay, you're safe." She said quietly so as not to alarm him further.

He was weak, he didn't have the strength to even sit up for long and it didn't take long before she could see his arms start to tremble.

"You're very safe. You're onboard a Federation ship. We're taking good care of you."

He looked at her then, alarm in his wide, glassy eyes. "Federa…" he whispered, unable to sound out the last syllable of the word.

She nodded, smiling as warmly as she could. "That's right, this is the USS Phoenix. You're going to be just fine."

She moved to help him relax back against the pillows of the bed, he flinched at the contact but she worked through it. He was squinting at her, trying to work out what was going on. "You're going to be okay… let's just get you comfortable and you can rest."

He grunted, the pain indicator above his head revealing some not insignificant pain. "Nurse," she called behind her gently so as not to frighten him further, "Let's have another 50 of Moxitrin."

A nurse appeared slowly, just edging into view, his eyes jumped to the sound, going wide again. "It's okay, this is Nurse Abra, she's just giving you some medication to take away your pain."

He was breathing heavily now, she needed to get him calm somehow. "So, how about we just get that pillow more puffed up, that's right… and then we can just pull this blanket a little higher… okay… that should help right?" She kept talking, knowing the soporific and calming tone she was using would help a little. "Now, just a little cold blast from the hypospray…" she said, nodding to the nurse to go ahead with the injection.

He flinched again at further contact, but she kept a hand on his chest, hoping the human contact might reassure him at least a little. She had him laying back against a stack of pillows, his body melting into the bed, his muscles relaxed even if his brain was going a mile a minute. She kept her hand in place as she continued talking to him, "So now… can you tell me if you might like a little something to eat? Maybe a little buttered toast?"

He nodded furiously, "Please… Please." He started to try to sit again but the painkillers and the relaxant were doing an excellent job. His eyes were darting across the room no doubt trying to locate where food might be found.

"It's okay, we just need a few seconds then Abra will bring the toast. You just relax… take it easy."

His eyes tracked the entrance immediately landing on the tray that carried the promised food. Abra drew closer and his eyes remained glued to the prize, as she got within reach, he lurched forward, grabbing at the toast and shoving it into his mouth before anyone had even noticed. His cheeks were bulging as he chewed furiously. He grabbed at the second piece and tucked it under the blanket. "More. Please."

"Woah, take it easy there… we have plenty of food here. Just take it slowly, slowly." She repeated.

His chewing slowed and she could hear his stomach complaining loudly. She grabbed for a basin and brought it up under his chin. He vomited weakly, his body not ready for the amount of food he had tried to ingest. "It's okay… it's okay… not to worry."

Once the tiny amount of toast he'd managed to eat had been ejected, his stomach continued to spasm causing him to heave piteously, nothing but bile coming from him. He groaned, still heaving and her heart broke for him, but she took the opportunity to remove the piece he had hidden under the blanket.

"It's alright, we've given you plenty of nutritional substitute, we're going to make sure you have enough to eat. This is a Federation ship my friend, you can count on us."

She'd seen one other torture victim in her entire career. A woman who'd been held on Cypron 2 some years ago. She'd never seen someone so malnourished though…

"What we'll do, is we'll just let your stomach have a rest, I'll have Abra here get you a food replacement shake and we'll see if you can keep a few sips down. We'll make sure there is food here all the time for you. That's a promise, okay?"

He hadn't taken his eyes of the plate, but the last of her sentence made him take notice. He nodded, "I'm so hungry. Please…"

She turned away, she knew tears were coming. He was in such bad shape, to be hungry, in this day and age…

She couldn't let him down, she needed to keep talking but she didn't trust her voice. Fortunately, Abra had been paying close attention so she took over, "Yes, I'm going to get that shake right now… give me two seconds and I'll be right back." She said as she went to the replicator out in the hall, talking all the time.

When she came back in, Enjetti had recovered herself and was clearing away the detritus of his aborted meal.

"Here I am… shall we try a little shake now?"

He nodded firmly, his eyes longing for the drink in her hand. She reached the bed and he took the drink, she kept her hands over his. He would try to down the whole thing and she couldn't let that happen.

"Small sips… that's right… just a little more…okay. Here, let me take that." The both of them had been talking to him as if to a child, but that seemed to be the right approach for now.

He let go of the glass, a dribble of the shake running down his chin. Taking just three sips seemed to have exhausted his limited resources. His eyes were drooping, he tried to lift his hand to wipe his mouth but gave up half way.

She wiped at his chin, "That's okay… you don't need to do anything but rest. How about you close your eyes for now… we can have some more when you wake up. I promise."

He nodded half-heartedly, then dropped to sleep, his head lolling to one side. She smoothed the blanket over him, pulling it a little higher, then she turned the overhead light off leaving only the illumination from the hallway.

She turned to Enjetti, who had taken a seat on the stool nearest the door. "My goodness…"

Enjetti wiped at a stray tear, "I'm sorry… thank you for covering there…"

"No problem… he's in a bad way isn't he…"

"We have our work cut out… I wonder who he is?"

Abra shook her head, "Someone must be missing him…"