Chapter Three

As twenty-four hundred approached Worf's legs were starting to cramp. He was too old to sit out in the cold in a semi-crouched position for so many hours, and the realization made him angry. To top it of it began to drizzle. It was an annoying kind of rain, dripping down the ridges of his forehead, running along his neck, and trickling down inside his tunic. The mist and fog were settling in as well, making his surroundings blur. He strained his eyes to see the roof guard. A younger warrior would relish this challenge, but he wasn't feeling young lately.

His thoughts were just about to turn morose when suddenly a high pitched horn sounded, the lights blinked on and off three times and the guards began to migrate away. The outer guard entered through the door way in front of Worf, chatting amicably with the inner guard about what might be for dinner as they walked away.

Worf was taken aback at the lack of security. Was it poor planning on their part, luck, or part of some ingenious plan to capture a love-sick Klingon? He grimaced at his own thoughts. Grabbing his medical bag and weapon he headed towards the door. His feet slid on the muddy walk, making sucking noises. Too old for stealth as well seemed. Growling inwardly at his clumsiness he reached inside his pack and found the door code. Slowly, with cold stiffened fingers, he tapped in the code.

The door gave a small metallic click and unlatched, and he entered. What greeted him was the warm, foul smell of decaying garbage mixed with sweat and excrement. His nose curled back in disgust. Sometimes the heightened sense of smell Klingons had was more of a curse than a blessing. Looking ahead he could see the entire hallway, nearly thirty feet, and so narrow there was barely enough for two men to walk side by side. There were no windows or doors until it opened out into the hallway beyond. No where to hide if anyone were to walk this way. The tenseness he had previously felt was now amplified three fold.

With great care, Worf crept up on that outer hall, holding his breath and stepping softly. He made it to the end of that hall and peered out both ways best he could. There didn't seem to be anyone in either direction. All that he could see was a continuing maze of halls ahead, branching off to the right and the left, lined with doors spaced out at every three feet. The idea behind those doors were tortured prisoners, was enough to make Worf's skin crawl beneath his uniform. Cardassians had no honor. Just as he was about to make his move, he heard voices to his right, echoing, but growing louder and closer. He ducked back, holding his breath, praying no one would turn his way.

"Thanks for standing watch for that few minutes. I don't usually get to take any breaks."

"How is that anyway? The rest of us are all at lunch and you just stay here?" The other guard looked at his companion suspiciously, goading him.

"It was them," he motioned with his hand up the hall,"I ticked them off one day, made them angry. I don't get any meals while I work anymore, and I work for twelve hours a day, everyday." He spoke with undisguised bitterness.

The other Cardassian laughed. "Well, while I eat my meal, I'll think of you!" He slapped him on the back roughly and walked down, past where Worf was hiding, towards what must have been the dining hall.

The other guard looked around and went back to his post, which was located only ten feet from where he waited. Worf, drawing out his knife, quietly approached the Cardassian from behind. He reached him in a matter of seconds, pulling his arm quickly and tightly around the Cardassian's throat, and pressed the knife blade into the flesh of his neck.

Worf whispered menacingly , "Do you know who I am?"

The Cardassian nodded best he could. "Then you know, I will kill you without thinking twice about it." Again, the nod.

Worf released his grip and the Cardassian turned slowly towards him.

"You're Klingon!" He said in disgust, rubbing his hands across the small cut on his throat left by Worf's blade.

"What were you hoping for?" Worf whispered tauntingly, waving the knife at him again.

"Not a Klingon. Someone that looked remotely more humanoid than you. Someone like her." He sneered. "Now if you're caught, there is no possible way I can convince them you're a prisoner that I'm transferring from one block to another. We don't keep Klingons here."

Worf could see he was clearly aggravated. "Well, then, I won't get caught."

Again the Cardassian sneered at him. "Your pride will be your downfall. That's how it is for all of you!" He looked as if he may spit on Worf, then he reached inside his uniform and handed Worf a data capsule. "This is what I want in trade."

Worf stared at it. "What do you mean?"

"You don't actually think I am doing all this, risking my life and career for her do you? Well," he conceded, "maybe in part, she is one of the few innocent ones here, but mostly it is for self preservation."

"Explain."

"I will, while we walk. You only have twenty minutes before they return." He motioned Worf to follow him.

"I am part of the resistance movement. This is a list of people who helped organize this escape plan for the prisoner. We want Star Fleet to know us by name, so that if we call on them later, for a favor, they will be willing to comply." He grinned, but it looked more like a sneer.

"Now, can you insure me you will let that fall into the right hands? Or do I just kill you now?" He grinned menacingly, and pretended to reach for his weapon.

"You have my word."

"Good. She's in here. Get her out of here and don't look back."

The door slid back, making a grating noise that echoed up and down the hallway. Worf stepped into a dank, smelly cell. There was no window, but the hallway light cast inside, revealing a floor that seemed alive with movement. Stepping in he crunched down on something, and realized the floor was covered in vermin. He flinched inwardly. Flashing his handheld light around he located the bunk on the far side. On it was a lumped up pile of dirty, rotting, moldy rags, and at the end of the rags, to his surprise, was a head. The pile moved slightly away from the light.

"Turn that off, she hasn't seen direct light for months." He hissed at Worf.

Worf reached into the medical bag and pulled out a heat tarp and went over to wrap it around the body. He still couldn't see any face, and didn't know who or what he was about to carry out with him, but had decided that no one deserved to stay in this place. Once the body was safely wrapped, he cradled it in his arms and began to carry it out.

He moved past the guard. "Just so you know," the guard said with some pride, "she never gave in." It was an odd thing to say, and Worf guessed there was more behind the statement than he wanted to know.

He picked up the pace, heading down towards the end of the hallway. Turning towards the exit, he heard voices approaching. He rushed to the door, thankful his load was light. Once outside, he headed towards the bushes and, after collecting the rest of his gear, began to run towards the shuttle.

About a mile into his trek back to the ship he heard his charge moaning. Definitely a female, he thought. He slowed his bumpy pace a bit, and she seemed to settle down, relaxing back into his arms. The thing he wanted to do most right now was look at whoever he was carrying, but he knew he mustn't stop until he reached the shuttle.

Three miles later, his self control began to falter and he couldn't wait any longer. There was still a mile left to the shuttle, but he couldn't stand the suspense. Besides, she was mumbling something at him, and with the rustling of the tarp and the crunching of plants under his feet and around him he couldn't hear what she was saying.

The light from the rising sun had just begun to break over the horizon. He stopped at a covered spot, where the light wouldn't be so invasive, leaned down and carefully began to uncover her.

"Please," the voice begged softly, "help me." The voice sounded pitiful and small. It wasn't until now that he realized his captive didn't know who had her.

"Do not worry. I have rescued you from the prison and will return you to your people."

Her body became very, very still. So much so, Worf had to concentrate on her side to see if she was breathing or not.

Her voice cracked, "Worf?"