Enemy Mine

'I've heard more crazy stories about that first journey to SenSaru'a than any incident I've ever heard of. Everything from falling in love to attempted murder, from rapes and orgies to torture and brainwashing – even witchcraft has been used to explain subsequent events. Other versions have reversed captor and captive, even mixing the two in wild configurations. Or some have the trip lasting only minutes, while in others it took months or years.

The truth, I'm afraid, was far more boring.'

^..^

Donna stayed scrunched down in her hiding place for hours, trying to ignore her rumbling stomach and her cramping leg muscles. It was late afternoon when they grabbed us; it's got to be late evening or dead night in London by now. Are they on the same day/night schedule?

Apparently so, as noise and activity slowly died down, and even the already dim lights in the corridor dimmed further at one point. She waited a while longer, then crept out again to peer down the hall; SesTok's two guards were still there.

The only course of action she'd been able to come up with was to somehow free the Commander. There wasn't anything else she could do by herself, not that she could think of. Perhaps, if he were no longer under guard, he could regain command of the ship.

She took a deep breath, and then carefully melted around the corner, creeping slowly towards the guards. Obviously bored, they were leaning against the wall on either side of SesTok's door, idly talking, their weapons held down loosely in one paw at their side. She made it about halfway there before the one at the far side spotted her and grinned. He barked out something to his comrade, who swiveled around and snorted through his gill slits; they were laughing at her. Good.

She'd been holding one leg stiffly out behind her; now she collapsed to the deck, cringing and moaning together, bringing that leg under her and holding it as if it were wounded. She dropped her head down, exhausted, and waited for the nearer one to shuffle over to her. He reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly to her feet. She stayed hunched over, crying out in 'pain', and limped badly as he yanked her towards the other.

Just as they reached the door, she gave another cry and started to collapse on her 'bad' leg, forcing her captor to turn towards her slightly as he bent over her to keep his grip on her arm – and then she pushed as hard as she could, lunging up into him and slamming him into the wall, while she grabbed for the weapon in his other hand. In a flash, she twisted it free and was turning to point it at the other one, only now reacting to the scuffle.

It might have worked, too, if the first guard had hit the wall at any other given point. Unfortunately, his head banged into one of the ever-present conduits, and the ancient, run-down, cobbled-together ship struck back, as the pipe was knocked loose of its nearby connector and sprayed its contents across the hallway – contents that proved to be a hot, acidic, oily substance that clung and burned. It hit Donna on her shoulder and upper arm, soaking through her Tshirt immediately, and she screamed for real as the oil burned across her senses, unconsciously dropping the weapon to the floor.

Laughing again, the second guard merely opened the door and shoved her in, then reported to JanDel that the Commander's pet had been captured.

^..^

SesTok, who had been lounging disgustedly on his bunk, heard the sounds of a scuffle outside, then shot upright as he heard DonNah's scream. When the door slid open a second later and she staggered in, he was up in a flash, crossing to her in two quick steps and catching her as she fell. His nose told him in a single sniff what the problem was; the smell of kanata oil was unmistakable.

First order of business was removing the oil as quickly as possible; it would continue to burn through flesh as long as it clung. SesTok pulled her into his tiny bathing room and flicked the lights on full, scanning to see where the oil had landed. Seeing it only across her upper torso – and some in her hair – he grabbed the bottom edge of her shirt and yanked it off over her head. Then he milked the soap pod on the wall for a large handful and began carefully working it into the oil smeared on her skin.

She flinched and squealed, trying to bat his hands away, so he grabbed hers and held them tight. "DonNah! Stop! I'm trying to help you!" She looked at him without any comprehension mingling with the pain in her eyes. "You don't understand me now, do you? The translator's gone?" Still no response, and he swore. "Boil it!" He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and looked deep into her eyes again, capturing her attention from the pain. "DonNah. I'm trying to help. Let me help. Please!" Dredging up the afternoon's 'conversation', he added, jerking his head up and down, "Yesss?"

She didn't understand, didn't know what he was doing, but he seemed to. So she nodded, sobbing quietly, and stood still as best she could. He went back to carefully rubbing the goo in his hands into the goo on her skin, and it did seem to lessen the burning some. He grabbed another handful and worked it into her hair – she almost laughed at his concentration to the task – then he washed his hands in a perfectly ordinary-looking sink. He pulled a towel out of a cubby and wet it down, then gently wiped the goo mixture off her shoulder, leaving first-degree burns from neck to elbow. At least the burning goo was gone.

Sniffing to make sure he'd gotten it all, he wet the towel again and applied it to her hair, wiping the oily soap out of the red strands. Then, pulling out another towel, he very gently went back over her skin, patting it dry.

He reached into another cubby and pulled out a round squishy gel pack, pulling a tab off one side to reveal a slit and then squeezing a bright blue jelly onto a finger. He carefully applied the jelly to the tail end of the burn by her elbow, watching her face to catch her reaction.

She gasped as the icy jelly hit the burn, swallowing it up in sweet instant numbness. She nodded enthusiastically, pushing her arm towards him, and he grinned and began spreading it liberally up her arm and shoulder. She started crying again in relief as the pain disappeared. He gestured towards her hair, and she understood: did she need the gel there, too? She started to shake her head, then dredged up his version of "no", jerking back her good shoulder and saying "Baht. I'm OK." He grinned at her for remembering, and then turned to wash his hands again.

As he straightened up again, she caught sight of his eyes wandering over her curiously, and was suddenly acutely aware that she was standing right next to a very strange male wearing only a bra above her waist, and she flushed, covering her chest with both arms. He understood the motion, if not the expression, immediately, and grinned again. They both looked at her ruined Tshirt on the floor; no good. So he strode back into his cabin and pulled open a large drawer, poking through it till he found an old uniform tunic. He nipped at the insignia with his teeth then ripped them off, then ripped off the sleeves, as well – they would most likely irritate her burned skin. Turning, he handed it to her, and she took it and pulled it quickly over her head, then stood looking at him, surprised again at how... human he'd become in her mind.

"Thank you," she said simply. He seemed to understand the sentiment, dipping his head at her briefly. So she picked up where they'd left off, pointing at herself and repeating it, "thank you", then pointing to him with raised eyebrows.

He got it right away this time. "Berana destok." Grinning, they repeated each other's phrase, then he motioned her to sit on his bunk, while he pulled the desk chair out and around.

And then her stomach rumbled. Startled, he stared at her, and she had to laugh at his expression. She rubbed her tummy, trying to remember the last word from earlier. "Surimi? Food?"

"Ah! Surima!" He started to get up and reach for the cubby he'd pulled the ration bars out of earlier, then stopped and looked at her again, face twisting into what she hoped meant something good. It did. He pulled out a ration bar but didn't give it to her. "Baht chan surima."

This isn't food, she translated, and had to agree. "Baht."

He stalked over to the door and pounded on it. When the crewman outside yelled "What?" he called, "Do you intend to starve us, too? Bring food!" Listening closely, he heard the two confer with each other, then one of them apparently called SubCommander JanDel on his wrist commlink for permission. He must have gotten it, because the next call was to the galley, ordering two trays be brought to the Commander's cabin. SesTok turned back to Donna and grinned. "Food coming soon."

He must have been ordering food brought. "Good. Berana destok."

They grinned again at each other as he sat back down, but their smiles faded quickly as an awkward silence descended. After a moment, Donna sighed. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, even though he wouldn't understand a word. "I guess I'm not much of a superhero rescuer. Mum would have had you free in five minutes, I'm sure – not to mention what miracles Dad the Doctor would have done. No doubt, if he'd been on the bridge you wouldn't even have gotten mutinied against. I guess you got the wrong Gallifrey." Eyes stinging, she dashed her hand across them and sniffled, feeling thoroughly inadequate and sorry for herself and her – friend?

SesTok was frowning. The words were a mystery, but from her tone, DonNah was apologizing to him. To him? After she'd been the one captured and carried away to certain death? As the thought crossed his mind, he stiffened. Not if I can help it. She'd fallen silent, gazing at the floor and wiping water from her eyes. Does that mean the same thing? It must – water came also when she was hurt. Wishing they still had the translator, he spoke softly, hoping she'd somehow understand at least a little. "I'm sorry you were dragged into this, little she-thing. This is the wrong action, I'm certain now. Your Elder Mother was correct. And I'm going to make sure the Council of Elders hears it. I'll be taken before them for my trial, and I will use my right to speak to tell them how wrong this is. They will have to hear me then, they cannot refuse my right. I only hope they will smell the truth I give them."

They both fell silent again, lost in their separate thoughts, until they were roused by the door whooshing open to reveal a crewman with two food trays, both guards covering them with their weapons from behind him. He set them down on the floor and quickly withdrew.

"Food" this time proved to be a thick gloppy pottage of some sort, along with several sheets of dried green plant material, pressed flat. Donna carefully sniffed each item – the pottage frankly smelled tantalizing, if a bit sharp, with bits of meat and vegetables of several sorts, while she would swear the sheets were pressed seaweed. SesTok showed her how to scoop the pottage into a sheet and roll it up, burrito-style. She took a careful bite and rewarded him with a smile. "Good!"

Deciding her word meant 'good', he told her his version, and they each filed away another word.

Supper over, they put the trays back near the door. SesTok turned to her with an expression she was beginning to recognize as questioning. He pointed to her, then drooped, slumping over with his eyes closed, breathing deeply. When he straightened up again, she suddenly got it. "Sleep! Yes – sah, we sleep." She mimed the human stereotype head on folded hands, eyes closed. "Sleep."

"Sssleeep. Sessana." He gently pushed her prone on his very narrow bunk, where she'd been sitting, then pulled the cover over her. She watched him putter about a bit, pulling out what looked like an overcoat and a bundle of clothes, then he laid down on the floor against the other wall, bundle for a pillow and coat for a blanket. A final shared smile, then he stretched a long arm up to flick off the lights, leaving the ones in the bathing room burning softly.

^..^

Over the next five days, they didn't become fluent in each other's language by any stretch of the imagination, but they did cover some basics. Things got more interesting when he discovered JanDel hadn't turned off his computer access, and they quietly monitored the ship's progress and status, also using the data banks for pictures and diagrams to supplement their struggling attempts to communicate. SesTok tapped into the security system and found the cameras in the holding pens, getting a reasonably accurate idea of how the hostages were being treated: ignored mostly, but at least they were being fed. He was worried about the males that hadn't gotten offloaded, but finally found them still in the lander's cargo bay, also being fed, if not quite as often as the females. Apparently JanDel was planning to use them as slave labor.

They'd get tired of language lessons periodically, and took turns simply talking to each other, knowing that often the gist was getting through even without any details. Donna considered it a major breakthrough when he finally understood she was asking if he had any family; the answer was no; no partner, no little ones, not even before the disaster had struck. He, on the other hand, wanted to know what she was, beyond "human female", it took a couple of hours of laughing pantomime and pictures from the computer before he understood what "Doctor" meant. "Ah! A healer!" And after that, she caught him occasionally looking at her with a speculative, almost respectful look.

Finally, five days of captivity later, the computer told them they were entering his home system. They got cleaned up, putting on fresh clothes (she'd adapted another old tunic of his into a better fit after he produced needle and thread from another drawer), then sat quietly, waiting for their captors to come for them. When the door opened, they stood and allowed their hands to be bound, then walked with silent dignity down to a lander, where they were put in the cargo bay along with a handful of the other hostages being taken to the Council of Elders for show and tell.

"Donna!" squealed Cherise, one of the few girls who used to acknowledge her existence. "You're OK! We thought you were dead!"

The guards left in the cargo bay barked at them to be quiet, flicking a force whip as a reminder. Donna smiled at Cherise, but didn't get a chance to reply. Glancing at SesTok beside her, staring straight ahead at nothing, face impassive, she decided silence was the better option, and settled back.

A bumpy ride later, they were herded again out the door and down the ramp onto pavement, standing at last in the open air, on an alien planet. They weren't given time to enjoy it, though, as they were pushed up into the back of a covered transport and the flap pulled down. They sat on the floor together in the dark, swaying and jostling for several minutes, then the movement ceased, and the flap raised again, finding themselves in a large garage-like structure.

Pushed into a line with SesTok in the lead, they were again herded through a doorway, down a large rough-hewn rock tunnel that drifted slightly downward about three dozen yards or so towards a growing roar and – after a slight pause – on through a pair of massive doors and into the Meeting Chamber of the SenSaru Council of Elders, to meet their fate.