Ch. 18
"She's downstairs?" Chakotay was shocked, and he let go of the hold he had on Mercado. He looked away from the sniveling man into the equally shocked face of B'Elanna. Recovering quickly, they moved as one out of the room, with Chakotay shouting over his shoulder for Tuvok to stay with Mercado.
The two of them ran down the hall, almost running past the old Trill who stood silently holding open a concealed door for them. Chakotay glanced at the man. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but now wasn't the time as he and B'Elanna squeezed into a tiny elevator that had only one floor option to choose. Not even speaking, they held their breath as the lift slowly descended. Less than a minute passed and the lift settled to a halt with the door sliding silently open.
There was a small, well lit marble hallway in front of them that cornered to the left. Exchanging a quick glance, they moved quietly to the corner not sure of what they would find. Using hand signals, B'Elanna whipped around the corner low while Chakotay covered her. They both froze at the sight that greeted them.
It was another hall way, with two doors staggered on each side of it, but the sight that got their attention was lying in the middle of the floor. A dead Cardassian. And he was obviously dead, as his blood spattered the walls and had made a dark pool on the floor. A low growl echoed off the walls, and B'Elanna looked up to see a shadow unfurling at the end of the hall.
"Chakotay?" Her voice was a warning, and he tore his eyes away from the body in time to see the wildest looking woman he'd ever seen moving towards them. The woman bared her teeth at them, and moved into the light. It was clear now how the Cardassian had died as blood reflected brightly on her scaly garments as she moved like liquid up the hall.
"Who the hell are you?" B'Elanna asked, instinctively getting into a fighting crouch. Watching the woman step casually over the dead body, continuing to advance towards them was like watching a targ stalk its prey.
She was almost within B'Elanna's striking distance when she abruptly stopped. Cocking her head to one side, the woman straightened, staring curiously at Chakotay. B'Elanna glanced between the two of them. The feeling of hostility coming from the woman had completely vanished, but B'Elanna still wasn't sure, and Chakotay's complete lack of reaction had her worried. "Chakotay?"
He shook his head as if emerging from a daze. "She's a telepath…or something like it."
"Oh," B'Elanna said, glancing again at the woman who now stood with her hands clasped docilely in front of her. "Okay, so what does that mean?"
"You are Admiral Kathryn's mate?" The wild woman spoke, startling B'Elanna with her gravely voice.
"Yes." Chakotay nodded. "Have you seen her?"
"Yes." Chakotay's relief at that simple affirmation was palpable, and short lived when the woman continued speaking. "She was here."
"Was?" B'Elanna choked. "We were told she was down here now."
"No, she is not here. Only I am here now."
Chakotay swore and slammed his fist against the wall before turning and heading back towards the elevator.
"Why would Merc lie?" B'Elanna asked, following him.
"He probably wanted the Cardassian to kill us," Chakotay growled, mashing the button to recall the elevator.
"Lekatne."
B'Elanna jumped despite herself. The wild woman was now standing by her side at the elevator door. B'Elanna hadn't even heard her move. "I'm sorry?"
"I believe you asked who I was," she answered, her voice sounding amused.
"Oh, right," B'Elanna said distractedly. "I don't suppose you happen to know where they took Kathryn, do you?"
"Sorry, no. I had hoped to lay in wait for others like Nemor to arrive…" Lekatne paused, her forehead creasing slightly as she focused on B'Elanna. "You know him?"
"I knew of him." B'Elanna nodded. "I know someone that will want to thank you for killing him."
The wild woman nodded her understanding as they squeezed in the lift together behind Chakotay. "Nemor did not deserve to live. He foolishly thought he would possess me." She gave B'Elanna a small grin. "Unfortunately, there were others like him here. One of them has your mate."
Chakotay could barely force the words out but he had to know. "Did you see a child with her?"
"No, your child was present only in her thoughts but not in the house. The man, Milo, he told your Kathryn that the child would go with her."
It was a small bit of information that Chakotay had longed to know. The doors of the lift opened and they reentered the house, heading back towards the lounge where they'd left Tuvok and Mercado. "Do you know who took them?"
"No, I was already being brought down there when she was sold. Your mate has a very strong presence. I was able to feel when she left the domain." Lekatne stiffened as they neared the door of the lounge where they'd left Tuvok and Mercado. "One of them is in there."
B'Elanna felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as once again hostility radiated off the woman. "It's the man that owns the house. He's the one that told us Kathryn was downstairs."
The wild woman's lip curled back, exposing sharp teeth. "He knows what happened to your mate."
"Will you help us find her?" Chakotay asked.
She nodded, striding past him and into the lounge. "He will tell me everything."
It was over. She'd been bought and paid for like some cheap trinket found in a Risan pleasure den. That thought alone made Kathryn retch again, her stomach violently voiding itself of all its contents. Finishing what she hoped was the last round, Kathryn leaned back slowly, grabbing for the wash cloth she'd kept by the sink. She brought it to her mouth as she cautiously settled herself against the wall of the tub. The cool feel of its surface leeched into her skin, and she welcomed it.
Stealing a glance towards the closed door leading to the bedroom, she thanked whoever was listening that Maddie slept like a rock. The past few minutes was not something Kathryn would've wanted her to see, and unfortunately, she felt sure that the things she could protect her daughter from were going to be few and far between in the coming weeks.
She had actually been surprised when she'd been beamed back to Milo's ship. She hadn't really expected to return here. But without a word of explanation, Sheila had returned her to her quarters. Kathryn could only guess that her new 'owner' would pick her up from here. Madelyn had already been asleep when she arrived, and for that small favor she'd been thankful as the enormity of what had just happened had sickened Kathryn to the point that she'd fled to the bathroom after only a quick look at her daughter's sleeping form.
It was silly, perhaps, that she'd been in so much denial. But she had been. Even with weeks of preparation, Kathryn hadn't really and truly believed that she would be sold in some black market auction. The knowledge yesterday that Starfleet considered her and Madelyn dead, had been devastating, but she'd rallied. After all, she'd been considered dead before.
So she'd hoped…expected something would happen to intervene. A last minute rescue of some sort either on the ship or at the site, but nothing had happened. Children had been treated as playthings for sadistic adults today, and nothing had saved them. And nothing had saved her nor had she been able to save herself. She didn't even know where those poor children were now, but she could easily imagine their fate. It was the same that awaited her.
Today, she'd witnessed the gathering of more inherently evil people in one room than she'd ever seen before. And that included the various Borg cubes she'd had the unpleasant experience of being aboard. The cubes were a mindless evil controlled by one, whereas this had been several cold and calculating individuals. Her stomach churned again, and Kathryn closed her eyes, attempting to breathe through it.
"Sold to Nemor for a handsome sum of eighty thousand gold pressed latinum bars."
Kathryn's eyes snapped open. Milo's declaration dripped greed with each syllable uttered succinctly as he pronounced the amount. She was next. She was last. The room was empty now, except for her and Sheila, the wild woman having been the last one to leave. The wild woman having now been sold to Nemor, whoever that was. When the gong had sounded, Krat had never touched the witch, but Kathryn had watched as she gracefully moved across the room, treating her guard as superfluous. Just as she reached the doors, Kathryn felt the brief touch of heavy pressure on her mind again.
"Good luck, Admiral Kathryn."
Then she was gone, and the doors had closed. The pressure had lifted almost immediately, but Kathryn could've sworn that the wild woman seemed almost amused at her circumstances. She herself felt resigned and determined, but amused, she was not. The bidding had gone up with each round until now, by her rough total, Milo had almost two hundred thousand bars of latinum. The witch alone had fetched double what the Myrmidon girl brought.
When the gong sounded a fifth time, Kathryn stood and moved towards the door, not waiting for Sheila's urging. They entered through a front door, finding the room of bidders now completely darkened. Kathryn bristled at the obvious theatrics as Sheila guided her to a specific spot before retreating. For an interminable moment, she was left alone, and then on a silent cue, dazzling, bright lights snapped on, spotlighting her. Her eyes watered at their intensity, but she resisted the urge to flinch away. Instead, she focused as best she could past the glare, but all she could make out were dark silhouettes.
"And now, as usual, we have saved the best for last." Milo's voice sounded from her right, and she allowed her glare to slowly slide to his hidden position. He cleared his throat before continuing, and Kathryn allowed herself to believe it was her doing. "I bring you what no one else can. You've heard of her. You know her. Admiral Kathryn Janeway. Captain of the intrepid starship Voyager. The Federation's newest hero. Her name will go down in history…but will you be lucky enough to have her go down on you?" A sick ripple of laughter crossed the room at Milo's innuendo, and Kathryn had to grind her teeth to keep the disgust she felt from showing on her face. "You've seen a taste of her fire. Her spirit. Who among you is man…or woman enough to control her?" Milo paused again. Only the rustle of cloth could be heard as Kathryn saw some of the dark figures lean forward. "The bidding will begin at fifty thousand."
Kathryn was shocked at the amount, but the bidding began immediately. Five of the silhouetted figures seemed to be giving serious bids, increasing the bid in one thousand increments, while the rest seemed content to watch and wait for the outcome. When the bid reached one hundred thousand, only two of the figures continued. Having adjusted somewhat to the glare, Kathryn was able to make out small distinctions about the bidder that was closer to her. The flared neck and broad shoulders made her think it was the Cardassian. She was not sorry that his voice had become strained at the one hundred mark and he now seemed reluctant to continue. At his hesitation, Kathryn scanned to the back corner where the other bidder remained cloaked in darkness. She could tell nothing about the person except his voice had never wavered.
The Cardassian offered one more increase that was immediately countered. He threw his hands up, signaling defeat as he leaned back in his chair. Kathryn's eyes flicked to Milo's hidden spot.
"Sold to Merc for one hundred twelve thousand bars."
Kathryn slowly opened her eyes to unsurprisingly find herself still sitting on the floor of her bathroom. Feeling slightly steadier, she pushed herself up to the sink so she could wash out her mouth and her wash cloth. Accidentally catching her reflection in the mirror, Kathryn leaned closer inspecting her image. Thanks to Milo's machinations, her reflection had changed somewhat, but as she peered into her still too-blue eyes, she could still see herself in them. Fury roiled in her pupils.
Those buyers had fought over who got to buy her because of her spirit. Her determination. They wanted to own her. To break her. A brief smile flitted across her face that could only be considered feral in nature. They wanted to see what she was made of…they would. She'd give them every last bit of strategizing, rebellious, stubborn, Starfleet-trained scrap she had. And then they would see who was left standing.
Thank you for all the feedback I've been receiving. I truly appreciate it, and hope you'll stay with me as this story isn't over yet. ;)