Disclaimer: See chapter one please.
Ensign Kim peered warily over from his spot by the far wall as the doors opened and someone was shoved inside...
"In you go. Don't be shy, honey. They're going to love what we've done with you," the familiar voice of the alien called Enahr drawled from the doorway. "I'm sure they'll find it a great improvement."
Janeway hobbled into the darkened room, barely managing to hold herself upright. She turned to toss her tormentor a scathing look, but refused to dignify his taunts with a verbal response.
Enahr only grinned at her glare, snidely clucking his forked tongue behind his teeth. "We're really going to have to work on that temper of yours." He abruptly sobered to adopt a slightly more dangerous, less playful tone. "Here are the rules. You aren't chained while in your cell. But rest assured, you are monitored quite closely. A perimeter field surrounds every opening, including the ventilation systems. One jolt from that field is instantaneously lethal, as we've already demonstrated for your friends." He grinned. "You can ask them all about it while you're in here catching up. Lastly, any trouble from one of you results in punishment for all of you." He grinned again, the light from the corridor behind him making his already dark features nearly impossible to see. "And punishment is never pleasant. We've never had to discipline anyone twice. So be good, do as you're told, and all of you might just make it to market in one piece."
And then he allowed the doors to slide shut behind her with a solid bang.
With the light from the hallway gone, Janeway's eyes took some time in getting used to the darkness. Rather than venture forward along a path she couldn't see, the captain stood still, allowing her eyes time to adjust to the lighting (or lack thereof).
The first thing she noticed was the smell. It was horrible – truly cringe-worthy, she thought to herself, wrinkling her sensitive nose in disgust. The odor assaulting her nostrils reeked of sweat and filth and unwashed… Yes, the scent was distinctly human. Male. She couldn't remember Chakotay having smelled this bad an hour ago…and she thought she would have noticed, especially as he'd been on top of her with his tongue practically down her throat…hardly conduct befitting of Voyager's commanding officers.
She coughed quietly, shaking her head clear of unproductive thoughts. "Chakotay?" she called quietly into the space before her. "Tom? Harry?"
"Captain?" Harry was on his feet in an instant, moving deftly through the room toward the sound of her voice. As she hadn't spoken before and the light from the hallway had been blinding for a moment, he hadn't been able to identify the newest occupant of their cell – until he'd heard that distinctive voice calling out into the darkness, that was… "Hold on, Captain. It's tricky maneuvering until your eyes get used to the darkness."
Relief washed over her, so strong and reassuring that the pain in her chest and the lingering discomfort of her sore ankle were momentarily forgotten. The captain's eyes were adjusting somewhat by the time she was able to detect his movement just in front of her. She didn't bother restraining her enthusiasm, reaching out to grasp for the young man's shoulder. Finding it, she gave him a reassuring squeeze, and then cupped his warm cheek in the same palm. He was definitely alive.
"All right, Ensign?" Janeway finally managed in an even tone.
Harry knew he shouldn't be relieved; if the captain was in this cell, it meant she'd been taken prisoner also. But he couldn't help the broad grin from stretching his features as he felt the reassuring weight of her small hand on his face. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, taking her hand from his face and giving it a gentle squeeze to let her know he was happy to see her, too. "If it's all right with you, I can lead you over to the others."
"Of course." Janeway allowed her crewman to guide her somewhat haltingly through the dim room, obligingly shifting when he shifted and following his footsteps as agilely as she could. By now, she could make out the outlines of the few scattered objects in the room. Most of them looked like worn crates, very much like those she'd stumbled over in the warehouse on the planet. "Tom's here, too?"
"Captain?" The voice of her helmsman answered the question for her as Harry led her over to a clear space against the wall. "Is that you?"
"In the flesh," she couldn't help quipping dryly. There was no question that she was grateful for the lack of illumination in their holding cell. "Are you all right, Lieutenant?"
Tom was just sitting up, having been roused from his light slumber at the sound of familiar voices. He was tempted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't still dreaming. "Um…yeah, I'm…we're fine, Captain," he managed, still groggy. Then he remembered. "Uh…that is…Harry and I. Chakotay on the other hand…"
"What's wrong with him?" Janeway demanded instantly. "Where is he?"
Her heart was skipping beats. Enahr had assured her Chakotay hadn't been harmed. Had the alien lied? She searched the darkness intently. By now, she could make out enough of her surroundings to see that he was lying on the floor, stretched out at her feet. Immediately, she was crouching down by his side, painfully bumping heads with Tom in the process. She ignored the stars inside her skull, brushing off Paris's muffled apology without a thought. Her hands found Chakotay's head, feeling around to his neck for a pulse. "They've hurt him," she exclaimed furiously, more to herself than to the others.
Janeway's stomach was doing awful flip flops. The guilt was practically suffocating her. Her instincts had been wrong. She shouldn't have let him go off with Enlin alone; Chakotay had been unable to handle it after all. Now he had been hurt in her place, and it was no one's fault but hers…
"Actually, Captain, that was us."
Harry's plaintive voice cut through her busy thoughts like a knife, and she glanced up sharply into the shadowed plains of his face. "I beg your pardon?"
Ah, there she is, Tom sighed inwardly to himself. That's the captain we know and love lately. Her tone could only be described as dangerous. Paris thought he could practically feel the glare narrowing in on them. He hastily spoke up on Harry's behalf, not even sure why he was bothering, really. But he wasn't one to abandon a friend to the wolves, he supposed… Leaning in, he lowered his voice to a whisper, mindful of the surveillance equipment monitoring them again. "It's just a bump, Captain. Nothing too serious from what I can tell."
"Explain."
It wasn't a request.
"Well, you see, Captain," Harry stammered nervously, also whispering, "we were expecting a guard to come through the door. They usually check up on us about the time the commander was brought in. We were going to try to escape, and I er…had a metal bar I managed to pry loose from one of the exercise machines during a session, and…"
The captain groaned softly, holding up a hand they couldn't see clearly and then wincing at the pain shooting through her tender chest. "I get the picture." She was somewhat relieved to learn she hadn't misjudged the situation with Enlin after all as her other hand cautiously came up to massage her sore tissue. At the exploratory motion of her fingers, another pain shot through her, and she hissed in a sharp breath.
Tom's voice was all concern now. "What's wrong, Captain?" he inquired into the darkness, leaning closer to her. "Are you hurt?"
Damn, he thought. After the way he and Harry had been questioned by Enlin when they'd been taken prisoner, he probably should have guessed immediately that the captain would be interrogated also. His voice turned hard. "What'd they do to you?"
Absurdly, Janeway had to bite back on the laughter threatening to escape from her lips. How to answer that one? Somehow, telling him she was practically guaranteed a successful career as a Dabo girl if Starfleet booted her out when they got back home just didn't seem appropriate… Self-consciously, she crossed an arm over her chest, hoping to shield her altered figure from the concerned gazes of her crewmen. "I'm fine, Tom," she finally responded. "Just a little sore from the shuttle crash. It's nothing."
"That didn't sound like nothing," Paris was insisting, leaning even closer. "You should let me take a look…" His warm hand touched her shoulder, and she scooted away from him.
"That's quite enough, Lieutenant," she barked. "I said I'm fine!"
There were times when Tom wondered if the captain took lessons from B'Elanna on how to infuriate him, or if it was the other way around. He had yet to come up with a satisfactory answer to that one… Gritting his teeth, he leaned his back up against the wall, throwing his hands up in a universal sign of surrender. "Yes, ma'am," he retorted crisply. A little too crisply for the captain's taste probably, but there was little she could do about it as he hadn't been outright insubordinate. He took a perverse comfort in that fact. "Whatever you say," he mumbled.
Janeway was relieved to have the subject dropped. When she thought about it, she knew there was absolutely no reason to be so ashamed of her "enhancements". It wasn't as if she'd been given a choice – and they were all professional adults. Surely these three members of her senior staff could be trusted to handle the situation with understanding and with maturity…
Dismissing the thoughts from her mind, the captain absently touched her fingers to Chakotay's temple, where she could by now just make out the darker lines of ink framing the outside corner of his eye. "You know we're being monitored," she murmured quietly.
"Yeah." Tom shifted in closer, under the pretense of adjusting his posture. "But it's not a continual surveillance the way they'd like us to think. The data imager is just over the door, and it's set to record in intervals."
"How do you know?"
"We tested it out."
"Tested it?" The familiar prickle of curiosity rippled through her. "How?"
"On the second day, we decided to do some hardcore testing of the perimeter field. It took the guards a good ten minutes to respond once our efforts became really obvious."
Kathryn's eyebrow arched into the darkness. "'Really obvious'? Were you checking the field for weaknesses, or specifically timing the guards' response?"
"Both, but more of the second."
Both eyebrows rose. "Whatever made you think to check for lapses in the recording device?" It certainly wasn't the first thing she'd have tried. In fact, she might never have thought of that particular possibility...
There was a moment of rather awkward silence before Harry leaned over to scratch an itch on his bare foot, effectively bringing his head closer to his three companions. "Um…Tom is, uh, somewhat familiar with prisoner control and supervision tactics…"
"Ah." Yes. He'd been in prison. Janeway found that odd now. Although she'd originally met her chief pilot in New Zealand, it had been a long while since she'd last looked at Tom Paris as a reformed convict first and as her helmsman second. To her, he was simply one of her valued and trusted officers – no more, and no less. That his experience as a convict might have one day benefitted them in this particular manner had certainly never occurred to her before…
All in all, she was impressed. "Go on," she prompted, somewhat awkwardly making a show of stroking her first officer's damp, sweaty hair away from his face.
"It took a while…"
"And a few more tests," Harry added.
"But we managed to pinpoint approximately when the next cycle of recording was going to begin. Once we did that, Harry was able to creep closer to get a good look." She thought she saw a flash of white teeth, but couldn't be certain as Tom continued, "And eventually, he figured out a way to break open the imager's casing and access the circuitry."
"What did you use for tools? I have to believe they're careful about what they expose you to. They do this for a living, after all."
Harry blushed, thankful neither Tom nor the captain could see it. "Well, there's the matter of Enlin. His…" He coughed, seeming to need a minute, and Tom showed no mercy. There was no way the captain was going to let them leave out the details, he knew her too well for that.
"Enlin kind of took a…liking to Harry. A…very special liking, if you catch my meaning…"
"Tom," Harry groaned.
"What? She asked! I can't withhold vital information from the captain, now can I?"
Kathryn knew when Tom was enjoying himself, and now was most definitely one of those times. She could hear the laughter hidden in his innocent-sounding voice.
"So Enlin invited Harry up for a little late night 'chat' in his private suite, and Harry…being the good little Starfleet officer that he is…played his role perfectly. He was very diplomatic, weren't you Har?"
"Tom!" Kim's voice took on a warning tone.
"So when Enlin leaned in for a little lesson in...shall we say...first contact, Harry pretended to…"
She couldn't, in good conscience, let Harry suffer humiliation at Tom's depraved hands any longer. "Thank you, Lieutenant; you've made your point." Unfortunately for Harry, though, Tom's little report raised a whole new set of questions. She needed to know a few more things. Shifting slightly to relieve the pressure on her ankle, she leaned back against the wall and closer to her Operations officer, whispering in a tone so low she hoped Paris wouldn't overhear, "He didn't hurt you? Or coerce you into anything you didn't want to…"
"No! Tom's exaggerating! It wasn't that bad. I get the impression Enlin likes to intimidate. And, well…I'd say his preferences are clearly male – and he was interested, but he didn't press himself or anything…"
"All right," she acquiesced, grateful that nothing untoward had befallen the young man. A tightness in her chest released a little at the knowledge that he hadn't been harmed significantly. And any tightness released in her chest, imaginary or otherwise, was pretty damned welcome right now, she thought.
There was a moment of decidedly uncomfortable silence in which Tom did his best not to snicker aloud. Not that he was completely insensitive to the subject or topic, but he had a pretty decent read on Enlin. He'd been worried at first, but now he that no longer feared for his best friend's honor or virtue, Tom felt it was his duty to tease him over it.
After all, what were friends for?
"I managed to grab an eating utensil while he was…er…leaning closer," Harry whispered.
Her ears perked up. "Knife or fork? Or something unique to their culture?"
"Fork," he replied softly.
She considered. "Metal or ceramic?"
"Metal."
She pictured stopping Enahr's groping hands with a prod of pointed metal instead of simply swatting his hand away next time…and found she liked the idea. "Good work," she nodded.
Patting Chakotay's rhythmically moving chest with satisfaction, she shifted herself along the hard floor so she could lie down beside him. "The Flyer?"
"Damaged, but here. Nothing we can't repair, but Enlin's people won't have any luck accessing the computer in the meantime, either. Not unless they have someone with B'Elanna's encrypting and decoding skill…"
Janeway nodded, satisfied. And she was grateful to have something to focus on besides the fact that Tom had moved to lie on the other side of her and that neither one of them…nor Chakotay or Harry…was wearing anything more than undergarments. She was not looking forward to the coming "daylight"...or whenever it was their captors decided to turn the lights back on in the room.
A warm hand brushed her bare thigh, making her gasp and start in spite of herself.
"Sorry," Tom mumbled, as the pain tore through her chest at her sudden movement, making her hiss in another sharp breath. He shifted immediately to face her. "Look, Captain, if you're injured, you really have to let me…"
"Tom," she cut him off warningly, having steadied her breathing and isolated the sensation of pain in her mind to detach more effectively until it faded. "It's nothing. A…pulled muscle. I'm sure you'll be able to take a thorough look in the morning." A very thorough look, she cringed. And if you say one word, she silently promised him, you'll be scrubbing the hull with a toothbrush until we get home. In that moment, tired, worried, and sore as she was, she really thought she meant it, too. "Anything else I need to know?" she directed archly in Tom's direction. "Communications haven't been a possibility, I gather? Or an escape route? Do you have any idea as to the layout of the ship?"
Tom shrugged. "No communications. The data imager is the only piece of technology we've managed to get our hands on, and so far only Harry's been out of this room."
"No luck there, Captain," Harry spoke up at her feet. "Enlin's quarters and the 'exercise room' are the only two places I've been. No luck with communications in either room, and they alter the route to both places each time, I think so I can't memorize it. We can fill you in in the morning…depending on what they feel your individual needs are for salability, tomorrow could be a rough day. You should probably get some sleep…
"I'm taking this watch," Tom added, having turned back to lie on his other side. "If that's all right with you, of course."
She considered. Surprisingly, sleep was tempting…too tempting. She was never this tired. Somehow, she doubted the sedative she'd been given had been able to completely clear from her system yet. A yawn escaped her even as she thought about resting, and, seeing no immediate means of furthering their escape plans just yet, she nodded drowsily into the darkness on the heels of another yawn. "I'll take next shift. But you're to wake me the moment he stirs," she cautioned.
Tom didn't have to ask who she meant. "Yes, ma'am," he promised. "Will do."