Disclaimer: Star Trek and all associated characters and situations are the property of CBS studios. Star Trek Online is the creation of Cryptic and Perfect World. Tomb Raider and the situations therein are the property of Square Enix. All are here used by myself for entertainment purposes only, without permission or intent to profit. Stardates were calculated with the help of the TNG Stardate Calculator available on TrekGuide .com and may be slightly out of sync with those used in the game's lore.

The Captive

USS Nautilus, Shuttle One Crew, Sam Hayashi's Log, Supplemental:

Carlin and I have reached the Solarii City and managed to sneak in. We were attempting to reach the cavern where our shipmates are being held to rescue them when good ol' Brother John and his friends decided to crash our party. They captured me during a firefight and tried to use me as a hostage to make Carlin surrender. I used the nose of the Orion who grabbed me as a target for what was once called a "Glasgow Kiss." He let go of me after that, but there are still three Solarii on the platform with me: the injured Orion, a tall J'naii, and the human Brother John. Carlin is down below and unarmed. I'm on my own for this one!

When Sam broke free of her Solarii captor, she knew she had to act fast. She was outnumbered, poorly armed, and Carlin wasn't going to be able to help her until she retrieved her phaser - by which time, it would probably be too late.

Her hand-to-hand training kicked in. All of the members of the Belo-Hayashi family had been required to learn basic self-defense by their father, Hideo Hayashi, because even the best bodyguards money could by couldn't be with you all the time. Sam had taken it a step further by adding ground combat to her classes at the Academy - not much, lest she suffer from credit overload, but enough. It certainly proved to be enough here.

The big Orion had never seen her headbutt coming. He was still doubled over, clutching his broken nose, when she brought her doubled fists down on his temple. It was a killing move, at least potentially. In this case, it didn't matter because when the Orion fell he rolled off the side of the tower and into the courtyard four meters down. He wouldn't be getting up from that. Then, there was the J'naii, coming at her swinging his rifle. She ducked under the blow, pulling an arrow from her quiver at the same time. His follow-through left him wide open. She thrust the arrow through his neck.

A burst of blue fire streaked by her, alerting her that she was out of time. She turned to see Brother John standing at the edge of the tower, right over the City wall. He was holding his Jem'Hadar rifle in one hand, firing from the hip, while pulling out his communicator with the other. He wouldn't be very accurate that way, but at range this short and with three-round bursts, he didn't have to be. Any moment now, he would get lucky and nail her with one of those shots. Sam found herself suddenly wishing he was firing stun-beams instead. Whatever happened to "take the Girl alive and unharmed?" There was no way to tell, though, and no time to contemplate it. She had to take him out, now. There was no time for her bow, no time to grab another weapon. Only one alternative remained: take away his ranged advantage by closing to melee.

She charged, screaming a warcry that was probably nonsense. John's eyes went wide. So did his next volley. He was talking into his communicator now, frantically. Sam slammed into him, shoulder first, transferring her momentum to him, driving him over the edge. Say hello to the ground for me, her thoughts quipped.

Then she felt his hand on her waist, tangled with the strap of her quiver. He fell and she was off-balance. A moment later, she was over the edge, falling with him. God, help! she prayed frantically. The ground raced up at her...then vanished in a swirl of green energy.

The transporter effect faded and she landed on a battered Romulan transporter pad. She recognized it. This was the transporter she'd used to escape earlier. She didn't dare pause to think about that though. She was right on top of Brother John and his rifle had materialized beside him. She rolled off of him and grabbed her bow and an arrow.

"Drop them!" a voice growled. She looked up to find Durtlhor standing over her, compression phaser rifle aimed right at her head. A moment later, John was also on his feet and had his rifle aimed at her. In the back of the room, Father Matan stood impassively. Sam swallowed and lowered the bow to the deck, then removed the quiver of arrows as well. Durtlhor snatched them both up, then pulled her combadge off as well. All the while, John covered her with his rifle. She didn't dare resist.

"I told you we'd see her again," said Father Matan, smiling. "Prepare her for the Ritual!"

John and Durtlhor motioned with their weapons and forced her out of the door. She went with them, back through the wreck of the warbird. Sam comforted herself with the thought that if they took her back to the shuttlepod-turned-holding-cell she would at least be able to warn them about the atmospheric thrusters going off, maybe even disable them. But once they entered the caverns, they turned and forced her through a side passage that lead up, not down.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

The only answer she received was when Durtlhor cuffed her from behind. "Keep moving, be'Hom!" She had no choice but to obey.

The passageway steepened, its floor becoming a staircase carved into the rock. The stairs were well-worn, probably from frequent use. At the top was a set of engraved brass doors covered in whitewash handprints. "Open the doors, Brother," Durtlhor said to John, and there was a venom in the way he used that word.

Sam made a mental note of it. All is not sangine among the Solarii. Then, John pushed the doors open and she was herded through. On the other side, natural stone gave way to ancient masonry. Down a corridor and up another set of stairs the masonry gave way to wood paneling and sturdy columns. Yayoi Period architecture, just like the Monastery, she realized. But unlike the Monastery, there were definite signs of scavenger activity here. Decorative bronze murals were marred by sun-symbols painted in white, or by slogans like Fear the demons, No one leaves, The Sun Queen reigns,or Father Matan will set us free. There was also a trail of pipes and conduits leading through the complex. A lot of them were old plasma conduits, and Sam guessed they were serving the same function here, since they were hooked up to lighting panels scavenged from a wide variety of ships and dangling from the ceiling beams. Sam wondered momentarily where the Solarii got the power for all of this, but she had more pressing concerns.

They met a couple of Solarii at a pair of bronze double doors branching off from the corridor. They were both J'naii, raggedly dressed and armed with long, crudely-fashioned knives and Romulan disruptors. The J'naii pushed the doors open at their approach and Durtlhor motioned for John and Sam to go through. "I will gather the Brothers," Durtlhor said by way of explanation. "You get her cleaned up for the Ritual!" Then, the doors were closed behind them and Sam found herself alone with her human captor.

She stepped further into the room, and away from John. She turned slowly, studying her surroundings. It was not a large room, but the walls were sturdy wood and the only window had been covered over with a battered hull plate, crudely nailed into place. Without any weapons or equipment, though, it was as good as a prison cell. With the window covered, illumination came only from the flickering white glowpanel dangling from the ceiling. The room's only contents were a metal tub made from half of a deuterium tank and an uneven metal rack on which a ragged white garment hung. Taking a step closer, she saw that the tub was filled with steaming water and that the white garment was a kimono.

"Strip and bathe, then put that on," John ordered.

Sam glared at him. "If you think I'm taking off this uniform in front of you, you're crazy." The uniform was beyond filthy, true, but it was better than nothing, especially when surrounded by the goons of the Creepy Scavenger Society of Yamatai.

"Either do it yourself or I'll call the J'naii in here to do it," John threatened.

Sam shivered. J'naii may have been technically sexless, but that didn't make the prospect of being manhandled by them any less creepy. "Fine, I'll do it myself," said Sam. "Just...at least turn around, okay?"

The man smirked and turned his back to her, facing the door. "Don't get any ideas," he warned. "Remember there are two Solarii waiting outside, and they have disruptors."

Sam swallowed. There was no other way out of this room. She already knew that, and unfortunately she knew of no good way to take out a man like John from behind without him getting off some kind of warning. If only there was some way to incapacitate him silently, she mused. Too bad the Vulcan's down share their nerve pinch...Then again, even if I took him out, I'd still have to worry about the Solarii on the other side of the door...

Since her chances of escaping at the moment seemed to be nil, she decided to go ahead and use the opportunity to bathe. I'll find another chance to escape later, she told herself, and wished that she believed it. Instead, she occupied herself peeling off the grimy layers of her uniform and undergarments. Her skin underneath was caked in dried blood, dried mud, and a few other things she didn't dare to think about. Oh, and I reek of sweat and sewage: how attractive. She made a face, then stepped into the tub.

The water was warm, but not hot. A slight hum from somewhere revealed a hidden heating element maintaining the water temperature. Sam lowered herself in and began scrubbing at the worst of the dirt with a bar of soap she found perched on the tub's edge. The soap was crudely compacted and mixed with grains of sand, but it did the trick.

This isn't half bad, she thought. She wondered whether all the Solarii's sacrifices got this treatment, and immediately tried to banish the thought. God has protected me so far. He's not going to let me burn to death now, she reasoned.

She tried to focus on cleaning herself. It was hard to believe it had only been - what? - three days since she'd last stepped, bleary-eyed, into the sonic shower in her quarters aboard the Nautilus. So much had happened that it seemed a lifetime ago. Her chest still hurt every time she took a deep breath from where she'd broken a rib during her fall. There was also a pair of puckered pink marks on her left side, where she'd been punctured by rebar. Those would definitely leave scars. There were also numerous other scratches and scrapes, but all-in-all, she'd been lucky - at least, so far.

She pulled herself up out of the tub. There was a towel hanging next to the kimono. The towel was gray and gritty from too much use and too little cleaning. She tried not to think about that as she dried herself quickly. Then, she turned her attention to the kimono. It was missing both sleeves, and the hem had been torn off at about mid-calf. There were also a couple of small holes and bloodstains on the collar, where the kimono closed over the wearer's chest. Otherwise, though, it seemed to be in good condition. Excellent condition, really, considering that it was probably made and last worn over 2,000 years ago, she thought. It's probably filled to the brim with those polar ions, or whatever it was Carlin said.

She pulled it on and held it closed with a matching broad white sash, the obi. There was a second, narrower sash that was apparently meant to be worn over the first, even though it was not really necessary to keep the garment in place. Sam held this narrow sash in both hands and tugged on it. The silk was strong. The standoff on the tower top flashed in her mind. It gave her an idea. She held the silk sash taunt between her hands.

"I hope you understand none of this is personal," John said, startling her.

Sam looked up quickly. His back was still turned to her. He must have just decided to start a conversation to keep himself from getting bored, she thought. She decided to play along: it would help cover the other thoughts circling in her mind. "I hope you understand that trying to kill me and my friends makes it personal," she retorted.

"It's not really." He shrugged. "It's just survival. You do what you have to do."

"There are still some lines I'd rather die than cross," said Sam.

John shook his head. "You don't understand how it is here. Newcomers never do. You always hope for escape. You always figure there's a starship powerful enough, fast enough, or lucky enough to escape the storms and get you off this planet. But the Solarii know the truth: no one leaves, not even in death. Once you realize that, the rest of the universe, the people you knew, the person you were...none of that matters any more. The only thing that matters is here, now, surviving on this planet," he said. "You would do the same, if you were in my shoes."

Sam hesitated. She remembered her own lack of control two years ago, how she had twice nearly murdered her shipmates on a doomed shuttle in the Sigma Hydra system. She did not know what all John had gone through, could not say what she would have done in his place. "Maybe you're right," she admitted. "Maybe I would have done the same in order to survive, but that still doesn't make it right."

"What does morality matter when you're facing death?" asked John.

"Everything," said Sam. "When I face death, I prepare to meet a God who cares how I've lived my life. While I freely admit I'm a screw-up in a lot of ways, I hope not to be a total disappointment, mostly because I know that there's always forgiveness." She stepped closer. "I can't excuse what you've done, but I can forgive you as I believe God forgives me." She licked her lips and lowered the sash. Maybe I won't have to do this after all. "Just, please, let me go. Help me get back to my friends."

John laughed dryly. "You're an odd one!" he said. "No, there is no god and nothing waiting beyond death but oblivion - if we're lucky anyway. I'm not ready to face that yet, and Matan will have my head if I fail him one more time. Even if he didn't, he thinks this Sun Queen of his will show him a way off the planet. It's insane, but it's the only chance we've got. I have to take it, if only to keep him from killing me. And if the cost is your life...so be it."

Sam set her jaw and began winding the sash around her fingers, padding silently closer on bare feet.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't want to see you burn alive. No one deserves that," said John. "That's why I tried to kill you when I caught you on the tower: a mercy kill, I suppose...Sorry."

Sam didn't know whether he was apologizing for trying to kill her or for not succeeding. She didn't know if it mattered either. "I'm sorry too," she whispered, right behind him.

He started to turn, but she threw the sash over his head and around his neck. She twisted it behind his back and pulled it tight. John dropped his rifle. His hands went to his throat. He began to choke. His fingers scrabbled at the scarf, but the smooth silk offered them no purchase. After a moment, Sam relaxed the pressure enough to allow him to breathe, barely. "I don't want to kill you, so stop struggling," she said.

His body went still, though his fingers kept trying to grasp the sash. "You're...strangling me...," he gasped.

"Just a little, not lethally," she said. "Honestly, I hope you survive this. You gave me this idea, in a way, and it won't work very well if you die. Also, I believe that redemption is possible for everyone, even you." I have to believe that, because I could use some redemption myself, she thought, recalling a number of her sins and indiscretions - including her current course of action, which was probably one of those things that a Starfleet officer was never, ever supposed to do. She pulled John close to herself and kept him between her and the door.

Suddenly, the bronze doors slammed open and the J'naii came in with weapons drawn. They pointed their disruptors at Sam but did not fire: John's body was blocking the shot. Behind them, Durtlhor stood with Father Matan. Looks like the party's all here, she thought. Time for me to leave!

She backed away from the door and to one side, forcing John to stay with her and keeping him between herself and the Solarii as a human shield. "Drop your weapons!" she demanded. "Now!" She tightened the sash until John began making choking sounds again.

Matan shook his head at the display, looking disappointed. "You've failed me again, John," he said. "There will be no second chances this time."

John struggled like a mad thing, trying to break free of Sam's sash. But before he could escape, Matan drew his Cardassian phaser and fired. The unfortunate man went limp, a smoking hole in his chest. Sam dropped the body out of shock. In retrospect, that was a mistake.

Once John's body hit the floor, there was nothing between Sam and the Solarii. "Stun her and take her to the Fire Ritual!" Matan ordered. Several stun beams lanced out at once. Sam felt pain, then everything went black...

Author's Note: No, Sam did not die in chapter 26! In the game, Grim does die from getting pulled off the edge by a Solarii, but I wanted Sam to live and John has already demonstrated how good he is at mid-fall beam-outs.

That being said, most of this chapter is original content. Sam's costume change and kimono are based on a similar costume change by Sam Nishimura in the Tomb Raider game. In the game, however, Sam only changes costumes right before the game's climax. Here I wanted it to happen a little sooner, since (due to the events planned for the next few chapters) this will realistically be the only chance for such a change to take place. Also in the game, Sam neither bathes nor needs a bath. She is the only character to mention how dirty and terrible she must look after all of this, but her model remains consistently unblemished, unlike Lara who is covered in dirt and gore.

John's almost-heel-face turn was a working out of his character, Sam's, and Matan's. John was expressing second thoughts in previous chapters, but was still too committed to his own survival in the face of the other Solarii to seriously entertain them. Sam is one of the good guys and redemption is a fundamental part of her religion, so she has to at least try to hold the door open for him. Matan, of course, decided to eventually off John several chapters ago, so this just moves his plan forward. From a narrative perspective, also, John's inevitable death opens up the possibility of giving other perspectives among the Solarii.

The "Glasgow Kiss" is a reference to what Grim from Tomb Raider calls his headbutt in one of the games pre-Yamatai cutscenes. He then makes a second reference to his (apparently violent) youth in Glasgow before headbutting the Solarii who has a knife to his throat and attacking the other two. The way Sam dispatches the second Solarii is a reference to Tomb Raider's "dodge kill" skill, which allows Lara to execute mooks in similar fashion.