He wakes feeling groggy, his muscles cramped and skin cool. His tongue feels like ancient parchment from ages long forgotten, and he has the most incredible thirst he's ever known. He tries to sit up, only to have his body protest in the process. He feels incredibly light-headed the moment he tries to rise, the dizziness only serving to make him feel worse. He wonders for a moment what could be causing these symptoms, but after recalling a prior conversation, it sinks into his mind with the weight of lead.
Dehydration.
He'd warned Kathryn that they wouldn't last long without water, and if his body was beginning to show the signs of it, then so would hers. He turns his head, his vision slightly blurred, and glances out into the cell. Kathryn lies on the floor of the cell, arms sprawled out to the side and facing away from him. He pushes himself off the bunk slowly, taking aching steps towards her as he uses the wall for support. When he reaches her she doesn't answer, her eyes closed to the world. He leans down and gently turns her into the light, causing her to groan.
"Kathryn," he whispers, taking inventory of the latest marks on her face. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes," she mumbles in response, her eyes fluttering open as Chakotay slips a hand beneath her shoulders and another beneath her knees. He isn't sure if he's strong enough now to lift her, but he needs to get her off the ground and onto the bunk. He pulls her off the ground slowly, her head falling against his shoulder and stumbles back over to the bunk. The few steps there feel drawn out and tainted with pain as his malnourished body struggles at every movement.
Upon setting her down, Chakotay scans her face to look at the latest marks. There aren't many, but what they lack in quantity, they make up for in severity. One lash reaches across her cheek, bisecting her cheekbone and laced with wispy tendrils of blood. Another mars her chin, darkened by whatever blood was spilled there. The last is a dried drop of blood at the corner of her lips, worrying Chakotay more than the others. If she's bleeding internally, they may not have little time left to be saved, and if they had treated Kathryn so badly… what were they planning for him?
"Kathryn," he whispers to her again. "I need you to stay awake. Do you hear me, Kathryn? Stay with me."
Her eyes flick open, the irises dull from exhaustion. "I'm not–" She coughs, blinking in the light. "– going anywhere."
"For the time being, at least," Chakotay answers with a touch of sarcasm. "Hopefully Voyager finds us soon, otherwise..."
"Otherwise what?"
He chooses his words carefully, putting on a serious face before answering. "Your injuries are worse than last time. If we don't get you to the Doctor soon… I'm worried that there will be nothing he – or anyone for that matter – can do."
Kathryn shakes her head, her eyes now open and alert. "Chakotay, listen to me," she says, placing her hand on his. "I will be fine. Voyager will find us and get us out of this hell hole, alright?"
He places his other hand over hers and stays silent for a moment; the blind determination that is Kathryn Janeway may very well be the factor that pulls the universe out from beneath her. He doesn't want to bring another bout of realism into this out of desire to avoid another fight, but she has to know.
"Kathryn," he whispers. "The dehydration is starting to settle in."
Her expression changes, her features riddled with concern as her eyes focus on him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that when I woke up just a few moments ago, I felt light-headed. Weakness and thirst are settling in too. It won't be long before the nausea starts."
"I did feel a little… dizzy at one point," she admits.
"That's the dehydration affecting your body," he explains.
She reaches for his shoulder suddenly, trying to pull herself up but he stops her. "Take it easy," he says, noticing a redness curling over her skin. "If you push yourself too hard, things will only get worse."
She doesn't answer him.
"Kathryn?" he asks, shaking her shoulder gently. A hushed moan answers him, her body still. "Kathryn, don't you dare quit on me," he hisses, jostling her shoulder a little more firmly. He feels a lightness enter his body again, his head spinning in the air as he tries to wake Kathryn.
She rolls her head to the side, eyelids flickering slightly. Chakotay presses a hand against the wall to steady himself as the dizziness worsens.
"Don't give up now," he whispers.
Her eyes open slowly, the colour of her skin returning to its regular complexion. She turns her face slowly to see him. "I'm not planning on it," she whispers back.
Through the chaos of everything around them and all that they've been through, Chakotay manages a weak smile. "You had me worried there," he says.
"Sorry," she replies, blinking in the light. "I just felt so tired and dizzy that… I had to close my eyes for a bit."
He moves a hand to her face, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. "Try to stay awake for now."
She nods in response. "We need to start thinking about a plan of some sort, something that–"
She stops, her words sliced into memories by the encroaching sound of footsteps.
Chakotay knows that any sort of escape plan is out the question now, and the resounding beat of the approaching feet bring nothing good for either one of them. The entrance looks remarkably haunting with the sound of footsteps sounding through it.
He looks back at Kathryn, who knows the sound as well as he does. "They're coming for me," he says to her.
The look on her face is something more resigned than understanding; the sad slope of her brow and the weak gleam in her eyes speaks of a deeper realization. "I know," she responds quietly, reaching up to his face as he settles himself next to her on the bunk. "You have to fight this, Chakotay. You can't let them win." She pauses, reaching for something that Chakotay can't place. "You have to make it back to Voyager. One of us has to."
Why was she telling him this? If he was the one being taken for questioning, then didn't she have a better chance of survival?
Unless…
She thinks she's dying, Chakotay realizes with sudden dread.
He pulls her against his chest, her head settling on his shoulder. "We'll both make it back to Voyager; we have too much to sort out to leave it all here," he says.
"You'll get no argument from me," Janeway answers.
The footsteps are just beyond the threshold now, angry and fierce in their approach.
"Don't make this a goodbye, Kathryn," he says, running a comforting hand along her shoulders. "Don't say it."
She raises her head from his shoulder, eyes locking with his. Her blue irises glimmer in the light above them, glowing with the familiar fire that he's always known her for. She moves away from him, gently pushing his arm off her shoulders and draping her legs over the edge of the bunk. She rests her head on the wall behind them for a moment, and then turns her face to his one last time.
"I won't," she whispers, her words falling like drops of precious rain.
The footsteps have stopped, and Chakotay somehow manages to make it to the entrance to the cell as the D'Chasther prepare to take him to what he believes may be his final interrogation.
The D'Chasther's voice crackles with anger and frustration as its fingers curl and uncurl repeatedly before Chakotay. This guard is clothed entirely in black armour, giving its fuchsia eyes a menacing glow. The cold blackness of the armour was slightly unsettling; it gave the impression that this D'Chasther had a rank or position different from the others, and that only gave Chakotay pause as to why this one had been chosen.
"I have seen many species in my lifetime, but never one quite so… unusual as yours," it says evenly. "It would seem that you are not from this sector."
"We're a long way from home," Chakotay answers.
The D'Chasther makes some sort of motion that Chakotay perceives as a nod, acknowledging his comment; though Chakotay holds a candle of doubt to the notion of him believing it.
"It certainly seems that way. Yet how might I confirm that information?" the alien replies, making a gesture of uncertainty. "You and your captain are not reliable sources of information, and your shuttle's files are encrypted. As much as I would like to believe you, Commander, there is simply no reliable evidence to say whether you are people far from home… or a scouting party sent as a prelude to possible invasion."
"What?" Chakotay asks, shocked by the apparent paranoia in this D'Chasther. "What do you mean 'unreliable information'? I've told you everything that I know."
"That may be true," the guard says, adjusting its dark gloves that snap against its skin, "but your captain gave a different account of details than you did. So I am left to wonder: which is the lie? Both cannot possibly be true, but both could possibly be lies."
Chakotay knows that he's cornered, and that Kathryn's answer most likely came as attempted damage control for his apparent betrayal. His entire plan has taken an unexpected and deadly turn, one that could cost both their lives if not rectified.
"Now, I'm sure that we could easily dispel any of these falsities with information from your shuttle," the guard leans close to Chakotay's face, turning its words into a hiss. "Give me the access codes to the files."
"No," Chakotay answers.
The guard recoils. "How unfortunate. I was told that you were rather cooperative during your last session." It turns away from Chaktoay and heads for the impenetrable darkness on the edge of the room. "I suppose that a little persuasion is in order, then."
No, not again, Chakotay thinks into the darkness as he awaits the electric vipers that will soon slither into view. Please, not again.
A loud bang resonates beyond the room, and the D'Chasther guard reappears, hands empty and moves beyond Chakotay's line of sight. More sounds joined the first, building in volume before the room breaks apart, allowing fresh light to spill in. The D'Chasther guard was knocked to the ground, accompanied by a sound that Chakotay recognized as phaser fire.
Tuvok appears from the chaos and cut the binds restraining Chakotay to the chair. "Commander, are you alright?"
Free of his bonds, Chakotay stood slowly, massaging his wrists. "For the most part. Where's the Captain?"
The Vulcan's expression was stoic, one hand on his phaser rifle and the other at his side. "We have no located her yet. Do you know where she is being held?"
"Yes. She's in a holding cell not far from this room; I can show you."
Chakotay moved for the door, but Tuvok places a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"That will not be necessary, Commander. My security team and I will find Captain Janeway and bring her back to the Delta Flyer. You must go there now for medical attention."
Chakotay knows that arguing with the security chief is an exercise in futility, so he nods and moves to exit the room, indicating the direction to Kathryn's cell before being beamed away.
"No matter how many times I hear stories of xenophobic species, I will never understand what drives such pure paranoia," the Doctor says as he makes another scan of Chakotay with the tricorder. "Not to mention their unabashed barbarianism. What happened down there?"
"Let's just say it was not a pleasant stay," Chakotay replies.
"Now there's the understatement of the century," the Doctor replies. "Acute dehydration, three cracked ribs, not to mention countless bruises and lacerations. I assume that the Captain will have similar injuries?"
Chakotay swallows, trying to dissolve images of her scarred face from his mind before nodding slowly.
The Doctor's expression falls slightly then, as if to convey some sort of sympathy. "I see," he answers solemnly. He reaches for a hypospray from his medkit and pushes a vial of an unknown substance into it. "I'm going to give you a mild sedative for the time being until we get back to Voyager. You need to rest now, Commander. I assure you that I will do my best with the Captain once she's onboard."
"I'm not going to rest until the Captain is onboard," said Chakotay.
The Doctor gives him a disappointed glare in response, nearly rolling his eyes at Chakotay. "Very well."
A chime from the com disrupts the silence. "Paris to Doctor."
"Go ahead," the Doctor responds curtly.
"They've found the Captain; I'm beaming them directly aboard."
"Understood," the Doctor says as he readies his medical tricorder and an array of hypo sprays.
A pale shimmer bursts into the air of the room, illuminating four figures. Two are members of Tuvok's security team, adorned in their golden uniforms. Then there is Tuvok, who holds a bruised and broken Kathryn Janeway in his arms. He wastes no time in moving her to the other bio bed, and the Captain gives no objection. The Doctor flips open his tricorder and runs a scan, his frown deepening with each passing second.
"Acute dehydration, multiple burns to her torso, two fractured ribs, three cracked ribs..." The Doctor lists off injuries continuously, each one causing a tighter knot to form in Chakotay's stomach. Her injuries were far more severe than his, explaining why she had seemed so much weaker back in the cell. The D'Chasther had interrogated her more severely… was it because of his lies? If that is the case, he would shoot the guard that did this to her at the first opportunity.
"Is she going to be alright?" Chakotay asks, hands curling tightly over the edge of his bed.
The Doctor turns, a deep crease forming on his brow. "She should make a full recovery, but we need to get her back to Voyager so that I can treat her properly."
The Flyer rocked fiercely a moment later, throwing everyone off balance and sending Chakotay's head spinning again. The lights flickered, shattering the space around them into pigments of illumination.
"What's going on out there?" The Doctor asks incredulously.
"Paris to Tuvok, I need you at tactical; I've got two D'Chasther cruisers breathing down my neck up here."
Tuvok raised an eyebrow before motioning towards one of his security personal to follow him to the main deck while another remained to guard the Doctor and his patients.
Chakotay pushed himself off the bunk, moving towards one of the consoles. 'We've got to get a message to Voyager telling them that we're alright and that we've got company."
The Doctor stops him a few feet from the console, a gentle yet firm hand gripping his shoulder as he turns him away from the station and back into reality.
"Not so fast," he says, holding up a hypo spray. "Remember our agreement? The Captain is now safely aboard the Delta Flyer, which means that it is now time for you to rest. Or do you want to crack a few more of your ribs?"
Chakotay lets out a sigh, conceding to the Doctor's words. He knows that any attempt at resistance will indeed be futile, because the Doctor can easily enact one of his 'medical protocols'; or better yet, put that hypo spray to use. He's not used to everyone giving him the orders aside from Kathryn, but he supposes that in this case it is better to allow it rather than cause more unnecessary trouble for himself.
"Very well, Doctor," he says, heading to the bed. "Let's just hope we don't get blown to quarks before we get back to Voyager." He gave a half smile as he lies down.
"Hear, hear," the Doctor says nonchalantly. "I, for one, still have an aria to finish." He presses the hypo spray to Chakotay's neck, where it lets out a distinct hiss. He tries to roll his eyes at the Doctor's comment, but sleep takes him long before he can.