Harry Kim came around slowly. The white fog and eerie weightlessness were gone, along with the pain. Whatever he was lying on wasn't hard, but wasn't exactly comfortable either. But something was wrong. Something was missing.

He wasn't on Voyager anymore! The rocking motion of the boat; that was what had been missing. He jerked upright and saw he was in a dark, stone room. It was empty, except for the other bed and the oil lamp on the table. It was also surprisingly cold. He shivered in the thin garment he found himself wearing. Quickly, he wrapped the light blanket around his shoulders and began to think.

It's freezing in here! Kim thought. Isn't it? Why can't I see my breath?

The cold felt… different, somehow. It seemed to pass through him. He tugged the blanket closer and saw his hands. Every particle in his body stopped moving as he saw that they were fading away. He could almost make out the stone flags in floor through his fingernails. His breath came in gasps as icy panic flooded his veins.

What'shappeningtomewhat'sgoingonwhat'swrongwithmewhat'swrongwithme-

From one of the shadowy corners untouched by the pitiful lantern light came a deep, throaty growl. It hadn't occurred to Kim until that moment that he might sharing the cell with someone.

Or something.

Kim gathered what few shreds remained of his courage and spoke to the noise.

"Who-who's there? I-identify yourself!"

A very tense silence followed and he got the impression something was looking at him. Then, without a sound, the darkness sprang at him. It knocked the wind out of his lungs and pinned him to the bed. Frigid hands clamped on his throat and two deep, dark eyes bored into his.

"Who are you!" demanded a voice that cut like a sword.

"I'm Harry – Ensign Harry Kim of the Federation Sailing Ship Voyager."

"Federation?" the voice still carried a growl, but was higher than he thought it should have been. "That was you closing in on the Broken Islands! How did Seafleet find our base?" It shifted as it spoke and the eyes caught the lamplight, shining with the bright colors Kim associated with an animal. He suddenly realized the significance of the comment.

"You're one of the renegades!" he said.

The hands shook his throat, not falling for his sidetrack. "Where are we, Seafleet!"

Kim's mind spun. How was he going to explain this?

"I don't know exactly, but I think that strange storm blew us to the other side of the world. As for this cell, your guess is as good as mine. Um, can you let me go?"

The hands released his throat and his cellmate moved away. Now Kim could clearly see that she was female. About his age – maybe a little older - and with a face and build that suggested she wasn't entirely of the Human tribe. He watched as she flipped her short dark hair out of her face. She might have even been attractive if it weren't for her angry expression. His heart sank as he saw she was fading at the edges, too.

"Thanks. Guess we're in the same boat." He gave what he supposed was a reassuring smile. She sneered at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"We're both fading. See?" He held his hand up to the light so she could see it. She held up her own hands for comparison and paled at the sight. Her breathing quickened and Kim moved to reassure her, but before he could get off the bed, she let out an ear-splitting roar. It wasn't a sound a Human could make, which confirmed his suspicion. She grabbed the door handle and tried to wrench it open. When nothing moved, she flipped her bed over and snapped off one of the legs. Harry panicked for a moment when he thought she might bash his head in and be done with it, but instead she started beating the door with it.

"Hey! Come on! Calm down! What's that going to accomplish?"

She took a few more swings, then dropped the club, pressing a hand to her head. Anger, then embarrassment, then indifference moved over her face. "Sorry. Sometimes I can't – …if anyone ever tells you it would be fun to be a Klingon, tell him he's an idiot."

"Klingon? Are you a Klingon?"

"Yeah, but only half. Sometimes, it's hard to control."

Well, that explained why the ridges on her head weren't as thick as had seen on others. He nodded. "What's your name?"

"What?" She stared at him, as if trying to figure out if he was making fun of her.

"You have a name, renegade?" he asked.

"B'Elanna Torres. Why do you care?"

"I want to help you. If we work together, we can get out of here. Then we can find our people and see if they know how to cure us."

She snorted at him. "What makes you think any of them are still alive?"

He didn't have an answer for that.

They sat in silence for some time; Kim on his bed, Torres on the mess of fabric on the floor. He tried not to stare, but Torres fascinated him. He hadn't ever met any Klingons up close before and he wondered how similar she was to a full-blood member of her tribe. Maybe they were all full of that restless energy – she never stopped moving, even while sitting still. Always looking, always examining; she seemed to be nothing but coiled energy, waiting to spring. He tried not to react every time her eyes glinted in the lamplight. It was like seeing some dangerous animal made even more dangerous because of its intelligence.

The door rattled, instantly making them alert. It swung open and before Kim could shout a warning, Torres had grabbed her impromptu club and was dashing for the doorway. Two men walked in and she swung it at them. They dodged the blow, then grabbed her and wrestled the club out of her hands. Enraged, she threw punches and kicks in every direction, growling and roaring. She knocked one of them to the floor with little more than a backhand blow, scaring Kim a little bit with her strength. It took two more men to hold her still while a woman ran up and pressed a cloth to her face. Torres struggled, but seemed to be losing strength.

"Stop that!" shouted Kim, suddenly realizing what was happening.

-It's only a sedative, - said a voice he wasn't sure he heard out loud. –It won't hurt her. -

Kim leapt up and snatched the cloth away from Torres' face, then pushed his way between the people gathered around her, trying to get to her. She still put up a terrific fight, despite being half-drugged, but somehow he got her away from the others. He tried not to hurt her, but soon realized she was all sinewy muscle and sharp bones under the thin tunic. It didn't seem like there was much he could do to hurt her. She tried to shrug him off and had he not be ready for it, she might have thrown him right off his feet.

"Don't!" he whispered desperately. She snorted and jerked free from his grip, but thankfully stayed put.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why are we being held here? Why are we disappearing?"

-I will answer what questions I can, - came the strange voice again. Kim noticed that one of the men was looking directly at him, as if he were actually speaking. –But first, how are you feeling? -

"How are you doing that?" asked Kim.

The man nodded and then finally spoke aloud. "Ah, shen'tow tun foy'su. Do-ung shen'ang-ji?"

Kim looked at Torres, who shrugged.

-You don't seem to understand our spoken language.- He stroked his chin as he thought. -If you will permit me, I know a way to teach it to you.-

They shared a look, then nodded at him. He touched a finger to their heads and something twinged in their minds, making them flinch.

"[Can you understand me now?]" he asked. He spoke the language aloud, but they could hear it in their own words in their minds.

"Yes," said Kim with no little relief.

"[Excellent! Allow me to apologize for your mistreatment.]" He spoke to Torres, who merely snorted and folded her arms. "[When we heard you beating on the door, we didn't want to take any chances.]"

If he had been hoping to placate them, it didn't work. Kim maintained his indifference and Torres continued to scowl.

"Where are we?" she said. "Why are we being held here?"

"[This is the clinic. We're trying to help you. And you aren't being held – in fact, we consider you honored guests. As long as you don't cause any trouble, you're free to leave your quarters. Maybe you'd like to join me in the courtyard for a meal. Are either of you hungry?]"

At the mention of food, Kim felt his stomach rumble. It seemed like centuries since that thin tomato soup back aboard Voyager. He threw a glace at Torres to see her reaction. She looked wistful at the suggestion and he reflected on the moment he grabbed her. Exactly why were her bones so pronounced?

He shook off his thoughts. "We'd appreciate a meal, thank you."

"Do you have clothes that are warmer than these?" asked Torres, now back to her usual gruffness.

"[Oh, of course,]" said the man, ducking out of the room. He darted back in, carrying a bundle of fabric, which turned out to be their original clothes. "[I had these washed and repaired while you were sleeping. My name is Diga, by the way. Just call if you need anything.]"

He and the others left to give them some privacy. Kim and Torres grabbed their respective outfits, then turned away from each other as they started changing.

"I think he's lying," said Torres, voice partly muffled.

"About what?" said Kim, pulling off his tunic. "He hasn't told us anything."

"About our being free to leave. If we're so free, why was the door locked in the first place? And why won't he answer our questions?"

Kim pulled on his trousers, seeing the logic of it and wishing she wasn't so right. He wanted to be able to trust someone in this strange place, but Torres didn't seem willing. He shrugged on his jacket, noting the many repaired rips in it, as well as the missing buttons. Were these all from the storm or something else?

He turned around before Torres had finished pulling her tunic on and looked away, blushing slightly. Not a doctor by any stretch of the imagination, he couldn't help but wonder if she was underweight or just naturally that size.

"Not bad," she said, something like approval in her voice as she inspected the various patches and stitches in her tunic. "At least they saved me a patch job."

Kim tried to comment on his own uniform, but couldn't after seeing hers. Her clothes were so old and threadbare; they wouldn't have looked out of place on a beggar. She turned around and caught him staring at her.

"What are you looking at?" she said, scowling at him.

"Your – " His sudden guilt snatched the words out of his mouth.

"My clothes? What's the matter; never seen a freedom fighter's outfit before?"

"Well…no." He shifted under her stare. "Why don't you just get a new tunic? That one's about to fall apart."

She folded her arms. "Just pick one up, like a bag of potatoes, the next time I'm at the market? I don't know how expensive clothes are where you're from, but they're a little hard to come by in the Demilitarized Zone. Us renegades aren't supported by a multi-national consortium of co-operative governments like you are. What little money we have goes toward ship repairs and weapons. We can't always afford trivial things, like clothes or boots."

"Or sometimes even food, right? Is that why you're so thin?"

She stared at him, with an expression somewhere between bewildered and surprised. Anger quickly replaced it and she shoved him aside on her way to the door.

"Ow!"

"Don't wait up, Seafleet."

Kim stood still a moment, trying to understand, then strode after her.

Once again, Captain Janeway picked herself up off the deck of the ship. Instead of dwelling on it, she took stock. The pirate ships had disappeared, but the renegade ship was still close by. As far as she could see, her ship was undamaged, but she could only see the deck.

"I want a full damage report!" she shouted. "Somebody find out how long we were gone!"

"Captain!" Tuvok hurried over to her. "I believe the renegade ship has taken irreparable damage. They seem to be sinking."

She ran over to the rail to see the renegades scrambling about on their deck, dumping cargo and lowering the lifeboats. They might be outlaws, but they had rights.

"Hoy! Renegade captain!" she called. "Do you need help?"

A gruff looking man with a tattoo over his left eye answered. "What kind of help would a Seafleet ship give us? Handcuffs and a bunk in your brig? I don't think so."

"Well, you can either come aboard and accept our help, or go down with your ship secure in the knowledge you didn't compromise your principles."

The man exchanged a glance with one of his crew. "I suppose the brig is a better choice than the bottom of the ocean. Will we be fairly treated?"

"You have my word that none of my crew will lay a hand on yours."

"Then I accept." She nodded, then gave the signal for lines to be thrown. While the people and whatever supplies were still intact were brought aboard, the captain summoned Neelix.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Mr. Neelix, were you taken with us to… that strange place?"

"I was, at first. Then, for whatever reason, I was sent back here. The pirates were gone by the time I arrived, but since the red ship was still here, I can only guess that whatever it was that took us away took them too. A little strange, you know, to be the only one on a ship this size. Lucky you took my ship aboard before we vanished. Although now that I think about it, it's a little strange that the red ship didn't drift away…"

"How long were we gone?"

"I came back yesterday. It's midmorning, if you were wondering. But by my calendar, you've been gone for a total of three days."

"Three days!"

"Maybe a little more, I'm not certain. I managed to get a sighting off the stars, so at least I know where we are. If you want to land, I could direct you to a nearby island, of course."

She nodded absently. Tom Paris came running up to her.

"Captain, Ensign Kim didn't come back with us."

"What? Are you sure?"

"I double checked. He's gone."

She chewed on her lower lip and tried to think. Was he dead too? He was just a kid!

By now, all the renegades had been brought aboard and the other captain was approaching her. Some of her crew had drawn their knives and the renegades were moving for their own.

"Weapons down!" she said. "We didn't rescue these people just to attack them." She gave a stern look to her deckhands who slowly put their knives away. Then she faced the renegade captain and introduced herself. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the Federation Sailing ship Voyager."

"Chakotay." He shook her outstretched hand and she found herself sizing him up. Tall, solid, with short black hair and skin only slightly darker than hers, he certainly didn't look as fearsome as she thought the renegades might be.

"Tell me, Captain," he said, "How did you end up all the way out here with us?"

At the sound of his voice, Tom turned around. Chakotay's eyes flew wide open when he recognized the man.

"Paris! What are you doing here?"

"I came along for the ride."

"That was how they found us, wasn't it? It was you! What was your price this time, traitor!" He shoved Paris in the chest as he shouted.

Janeway stepped between them. "I said none of us would lay a hand on you – I'd expect the same of you and your people. Mr. Paris is a member of my crew."

The hostility still hung in the air, but Chakotay backed away.

"Chakotay, are any of your crewmen missing? I can't find my navigator, Harry Kim."

He nodded. "As a matter of fact, my bosun is missing; B'Elanna Torres."

"It would seem we have the same problem. I think we should help each other out."

He considered this, looking over Voyager, then at his own ship. Janeway understood his hesitation. Being asked to work with your enemy was one of the hardest things a person could be asked to do. Chakotay probably suspected a trap. Despite everything she thought might be running through his head, he agreed.

"Well, your ship's in better condition than mine. We might as well."

Good. Begrudging help was better than no help at all. She only hoped they realized they needed her help as much as she needed theirs.

"All right. Now." Janeway turned to the scruffy local. "Mr. Neelix, have you heard of something like this happening before?"

"Actually, I've heard this story several times before." Some expression crossed his face – maybe a decision on a thought he had. "If you are as brave as you claim, I think I know where you can start looking for your missing crewmen."

Just a few hours later, Voyager was pulling into a decrepit harbor. Decrepit being a generous term, of course. A few rotting buildings still stood on the deserted shoreline, but several were missing walls or roofs. Here and there were the pilings that were once part of the wharfs, jutting up through the water. Only on the posts closest to the shore did some of the original planks still cling to those pilings. Voyager pulled up to the largest one and dropped anchor. Lt. Carey and a few deckhands did their best to tie up the boat without help from any shore men. Janeway watched with approval, still tasting the bitterness of the potion in her mouth. No doubt the Elixir of A Thousand Tongues would come in very useful in this part of the world. Zimmerman's Construct turned out to be as good as brewing potion as Zimmerman himself. Certainly better than the cut-rate seller she'd bought her last batch from. The last time she'd taken the potion, she'd had the hiccups for a week. This time, they only came occasionally. Tuvok caught her eye and motioned her over.

"I have measured out several vials of Thunderflash. I believe we may find them useful, should we encounter resistance." He held out the small bottles to show her.

"Good work, Lieutenant. And you've given our guests their own equipment?"

"I have."

"Then let's go." She ran her fingers over the lump in her pocket – the weight of the Dragon's Stone reassured her. Chakotay and Neelix were waiting for her near the gangplank.

"Captain!" called Paris, running over. "I'd like to go with you."

"If this is about what Chakotay said-"

"It's not. I just don't want to see anything happen to Harry."

She stared at him coolly. He was sincere. "Come on."