Chapter Twenty

Chaos immediately erupted amongst the small group as the plasma storm picked up momentum. Notaxi attempted to shove past Harry and rush forward to Voyager, but the young Ensign was prepared for him. He grabbed the Ighanian by the arm and jerked him backwards while simultaneously throwing a sharp punch. His fist connected with his nose with a sickening crack, indicating that he had broken his nose. Notaxi cried out in pain as he stumbled backwards. He may not be a boxer like Chakotay, but his hit had been good enough to temporarily sideline Notaxi. Chakotay's mind spun as he tried to figure out what was going on. Everything was happening so fast around him, and he'd been so focused on getting Seven back safely that he hadn't been fully paying attention to the world around him until all hell broke loose. One second, they were on their way back to Voyager, all of them relieved to finally be getting out of here, the next they were under attack by the very aliens they thought were helping them. He really had thought he'd figured this place out, none of it made sense anymore.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded over all the noise, although the wind from the plasma storm made it difficult for him to be heard. Further conversation was cut off by another shot coming out of nowhere. At first, he thought it was Notaxi, but he was still pathetically nursing his broken nose. Chakotay instinctively ducked, more focused on protecting Seven, who was unable to protect herself given her unconscious state. He needed to get her out of this fire fight or else her condition was going to get much worse. The Kalrussian shuttles had landed, and Kalrussians poured out of the crafts with their weapons trained on the crew from Voyager. Chakotay knew he would have to wait to figure out what was going on. "Get out of here!" he roared over the noise of the wind and weapons firing. Nobody needed to be told twice. Everyone bolted for the starship as fast as they could.

Aboard Voyager, Kathryn paced in front of her chair anxiously while waiting to hear that both away teams had made it back in one piece. She wouldn't be able to relax until she knew that every member of her crew was back and safe. This had been one of the most stressful twenty-four hours of her command career, and she couldn't wait for it to be over.

"Doctor to the Captain." The Doctor's voice over the comm system caught her off guard. She hadn't gotten official word that the teams were back yet, and they were out of communication with everyone on the planet.

"Go ahead."

"Commander Chakotay sent me back to the ship, he and the rest of the crew are on their way with Seven." Kathryn's heart fell. While she would have been upset if it had been any member of her crew, there was a special place in her heart for Seven. She'd been so focused on preparing B'Elanna for the worst out of fear that it was Tom or Chakotay injured that she never really thought of the possibility that it was Seven. It was a relief to hear that the rest of her crew was fine, but she couldn't stand the thought of something happening to Seven; she'd already survived so much in her young life.

"How long until they get here?" she demanded, attempting to keep her emotions in check.

"It's difficult to say, but I'm on my way to sickbay now to prepare to treat Seven. They're getting back here as quickly as they can. I'll be sure to keep you posted. Doctor out." Previously, Kathryn thought that knowing who was injured would give her mind a sense of ease, but now it only made matters worse. Seven was an incredibly resourceful woman, something terrible had to have happened. Additionally, she knew that Chakotay would have been watching her like a hawk, whether he meant to or not, which only caused Kathryn to worry more. This was supposed to be an easy away mission, nothing like this was supposed to happen. As soon as she got her away team back, she needed to know what had gone wrong with such a simple mission.

Kathryn's inner thoughts and concerns were cut off by a new voice coming over the comm system, "Captain, several shuttles have appeared, and the aliens are attempting to board." Her gaze immediately hardened. There was no way she was going to let anyone but the away teams onto the starship.

"Red alert," she barked. The lights on the bridge immediately dimmed, and the siren alerting the crew to the status change blared in the background while red lights flashed in narrow strips all along the perimeter of the bridge. "Send security down to guard the shuttlebay door. We have to keep it open until they get here."

"Aye, Sir." At the very least, Kathryn thought that when they landed here they would run into trouble finding the away team, not risk being boarded by a strange race of aliens in the middle of a plasma storm. She'd honestly had ulterior motives to landing Voyager, she had hoped to do some routine maintenance while treating whoever who injured. Apparently they were not welcome here. Already, she was starting to understand why the away team hadn't met them when they were supposed to.

Having somewhat regained himself, Chakotay threw Seven's arm over his shoulders and kept his arm firmly locked around her waist. With their heads ducked in a pathetic attempt to protect themselves, he and Tom started to run towards Voyager once again while Tuvok and Harry covered them and returned fire with their phasers. The Kalrussians split into two groups, one smaller group focusing on the away team while the majority of them focused on attacking Voyager. Normally, it wouldn't be much of a fight with people on foot trying to storm the starship, they wouldn't stand a chance, but the shuttle bay door currently sat open, waiting for the away team to arrive, leaving Voyager prone to attacks. Chakotay could see that as he and Tom continued to run as fast as they could towards the starship. Anyone could walk inside if they so desired. Both men did their best to quicken their pace, but it was difficult as they carried Seven between them. Not only was it in Seven's best interest to get back aboard, but they needed to get back so they could end the attack on the starship.

Suddenly crying out, Tom stumbled and fell as a sharp pain shot through his side. He rolled across the dusty ground several times and groaned. Chakotay nearly fell to the ground as well, which would have resulted in bringing Seven down with him, but he managed to catch his balance at the last minute and stumble forward while simultaneously keeping a tight grip on her. Harry skidded to a stop above his best friend and thrust out his hand to pull him to his feet. Tom clapped him on the back to thank him and pulled out the phaser Tuvok had given him before they returned to camp from his holster. When Harry first told him the truth about Henan and Notaxi, he refused to believe it. Now, it was hard to deny what he saw with his own eyes; they'd been played. Tom returned fire. The lightning that punctuated the darkness courtesy of the incoming plasma storm made it difficult to see where he was aiming, meaning he was essentially firing blind. That didn't stop him from trying though. There was no way he was going to let the Kalrussians anywhere near Voyager. They'd already come this far; they were in the homestretch of getting back.

Chakotay tried to spin around to help Tom as he tumbled to the ground, but the task was made more difficult by the fact that he was the only one keeping Seven upright. He had to keep going, he had to get out of here. He pressed forward, his eyes locked on Voyager; they were almost there. He could see members of the crew dodging the firefight from the Kalrussians in the open shuttle bay door. As far as he could tell, none of the aliens had managed to board the starship, and he knew that none of them would if his crew had anything to say about it The pushed around him from all directions. Sometimes it urged him forward, towards his ultimate goal, but more often than not, it pushed him in a myriad of directions and nearly knocked him over. The addition of weight from Seven's limp form caused him to nearly pitch forward and lose his balance, which would have sent both of them flying to the ground, when someone grabbed his arm, instantly stabilizing him. At first, Chakotay thought that it was Tuvok or Harry, so he was shocked when he saw Aritlin sling Seven's limp arm over his shoulder to help carry her. Harry appeared on the other side of Aritlin and clapped the Kalrussian on the back in greeting, telling Chakotay that there were many things going on here that he didn't fully understand.

"You got my message," Aritlin announce gleefully over the sound of the plasma storm. "Sorry I couldn't do more."

"You've done enough," Harry assured. Chakotay opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but he ultimately decided against it. He was more focused on getting Seven back to Voyager, where he hoped he would finally get the explanation he so desperately needed. All of this was starting to give him a headache, which was only made worse by the throbbing pain in his jaw from Henan's blow.

Icheb firmly grasped the console in astrometrics. The red alert siren continued to scream in the background. Already, it was starting to get on his nerves. He'd rushed to his post without knowing what was wrong, ready at any moment to leap into action should the Captain need her. Although he knew he could handle astrometrics on her own, but he still wished Seven was here. Perhaps she was right, he had grown too dependent on her, but she emulated as close to perfection as possible while also regaining her humanity, both personal goals of his. This was his opportunity to show her what he was capable of achieving without her, once they got off this planet that is. The Doctor's voice came over the comm system, breaking Icheb out of his inner monologue.

"Sickbay to Icheb."

"I'm a little busy, Doctor. It's a red alert." Icheb's voice gave away his frustration. He knew that the Doctor could sometimes be a little oblivious to what was going on outside of sickbay, but even he wasn't so bad as to call on him in the middle of a red alert. It wasn't like he would be any good in sickbay. With the exception of genetics, his medical knowledge was extremely limited.

"I know, but this takes precedence. I need you to get the spare mobile regenerator from the cargo bay and report to sickbay immediately." Icheb's heart skipped a beat. Something told him that it was Seven who was critically injured. He had no idea how he knew, call it intuition. He was familiar with the distress calls from the away team, but he never thought that it could possibly be Seven who was injured. She was practical, levelheaded and resilient, she should have been able to handle a simple away mission. For that reason, he never worried that she was injured in any capacity. Now however, he could only think of one reason the mobile regenerator would be needed in sickbay.

"What's wrong with Seven?" he demanded. Emotion filled his voice at the thought of something being wrong with his mentor.

"Just hurry. Doctor out." Icheb didn't need to be told twice. Although it went against everything he was ever taught about handling red alert situations, he abandoned his post. He didn't care about any repercussions, he would gladly take any punishment from the Captain if it meant saving Seven.

Blind with emotion and anxiety, Icheb dashed out of astrometrics, nearly barreling over a crew member in the process who were in just as much of a hurry to get to their posts. He ignored the crewman, not even breaking off his long stride as he ran down the corridor at top speed, rounding each corner dangerous fast. He had to get to the cargo bay as quickly as possible. One time, he skipped regeneration for one night, just one night, to make some changes to astrometrics. He couldn't wait to show her the changes he made, confident that she'd be beaming with pride. Instead, she chastised him for putting his health on the line and banned him from astrometrics for the next three days as punishment. Seven always emphasized to him the importance of regenerating whenever necessary, so for her to not regenerate and take care of herself, her condition must be serious for her not to heed her own words. He prayed that he wasn't too late.

Back on the planet's surface, a shot from a phaser graze Chakotay's shoulder. While it didn't come in contact with his skin, it did singe his shirt. He glanced back to see who was firing at him, it was Notaxi who had regained himself from Harry's assault. The formerly kind looking alien had fire in his eyes as he fired blindly at the crew from Voyager. The blood pouring from his nose and down his tunic only added to his menacing appearance as he closed in on them. Having recovered from his mishap, Tom materialized next to Chakotay.

"Tom, get Seven back to Voyager," the First Officer ordered. Between the sound of the weapons firing and the plasma storm, he had to scream to be heard. "Tuvok and I will cover you guys."

"Yes, Sir." As much as it pained him to let her go, Chakotay forced himself to release Seven's arm. Tom immediately stepped in to take her place. Chakotay knew that if there was any chance of getting her back to Voyager in one piece, he would need to offer her some sort of cover. Besides, he knew that Seven would tell him to take care of the entire away team, not just her; she was always emphasized the importance of their relationship never getting in the way of his duties, which included handing her over to Tom so he could fend off their attackers. Chakotay pulled his phaser out of its holster and carefully aimed it. It felt strange to aim it at someone he had come to regard as a friend, but clearly that wasn't the case anymore. There were things going on here that he knew he didn't understand and didn't have all the information for. As much as it went against Starfleet protocol, he would have to shoot first and ask questions later.

The limited light punctuated by bright bursts from the lightning combined with the roaring wind made it difficult for Chakotay to aim his phaser and concentrate on his target. He did his best to level the weapon as Notaxi closed in on him. From the close distance, Chakotay could tell that he was holding a phaser from the shuttle, which confirmed what he had already concluded: Notaxi and Henan had been working with the Kalrussians from the very beginning. He didn't have time to feel anything about the realization as he fired his phaser. While he'd intended to just graze Notaxi enough to get him to stop his pursuit, the extreme weather conditions made it difficult to aim, and he was hit squarely in the chest. Grunting, Notaxi stumbled backwards. For a second, there was confusion in his eyes, as if he couldn't believe that Chakotay had actually fired at him, he honestly didn't think he had it in him. Chakotay felt no remorse as he turned his attention to the Kalrussians.

While carrying Seven with the help of Aritlin definitely helped share the weight, Tom felt that it was also slowing him down, as the alien wasn't as physically fit as he was. Coming to an important decision, he skidded to a stop, catching Aritlin off guard.

"I'll carry her the rest of the way," he announced. They were only a few hundred meters away, he could manage on his own. "Cover me." Aritlin nodded. Tom slung Seven over his shoulder like a sack and locked his arms firmly around her thighs. She didn't budge. Hopefully she would have no recollection of this awkward encounter, and he hoped even more that B'Elanna never found out about it. Tom began to run to the best of his ability, which was far easier said than done given the additional weight on his shoulder. He was able to move faster than when he'd been with Aritlin, but only just a little bit. Seven's head bounced against his back, and her hair formed a curtain of sorts that hid her face. Between the crew members on Voyager and those on the ground, there was a clear path for him to get her to Voyager, like a planned trail to safety. At first, he'd been fine carrying her, but it didn't take long for his back and legs to scream in protest. He was using muscles he rarely used, and they wanted him to stop right away. There was also a pain in his side, which he assumed was from when he fell earlier. He ignored all the pain and continued to push himself forward. He could see into the shuttle bay, he was almost there. His lungs burned with exertion as he gulped down air to satisfy them. He had to make it, he was practically there.

Tom's foot came in contact with the metal floor with a distinct clang, but that didn't stop him from running. He ran past the members of the crew who continued to hold the Kalrussions back until he was nearly in the rear of the large room. A crewman appeared out of nowhere and helped lower Seven to the ground. Gasping for air and covered with sweat and dust, Tom threw himself on the ground and leaned against the wall. Despite the fact that it was warmer than usual in the shuttle bay, it felt gloriously cool compared to the heat he'd suffered through since the away mission started. Someone immediately shoved a medical tricorder in his face, which he pushed away forcefully. Over the sound of the storm outside, he could hear the red alert siren. Red lights flashed all around him. His Starfleet instincts set in, and he knew what he had to do. He needed to get to the bridge. If anyone was going to get them out of here in this storm, it was going to be him.

"I'm fine," he snapped as he pushed himself to his feet and tapped his comm badge. "Paris to the Doctor."

"I'm waiting for Seven in sickbay," the Doctor said eagerly. Tom turned to the two crewmen hovering above Seven, who was still unconscious and completely oblivious to the chaos going on around her. One scanned her with the tricorder while the other attempted to rouse her from her unconsciousness.

"Get her to sickbay," he ordered before rushing out of the shuttle bay to get to the bridge. He would have to celebrate the fact that they were getting out of here later. Right now, he had a job to do.

As if it was planned, the Kalrussians melted away from Voyager. Chakotay didn't question it, as this created a clear path for himself, Tuvok and Harry to dash into the shuttlebay and out of the chaos of the storm that raged outside. He was barely inside when his eyes immediately began to scan for Seven, but she was already gone, as was Tom. Concerned about his away team as a whole, he spun around to make sure everyone had gotten here in one piece. Everyone was fine. With his heart still pounding in his chest, he rushed to the bridge. If they were in a red alert, that's where he needed to be, that's where Seven wanted him to be.

Tom burst into the turbolift and barked, "Bridge." His side continued to hurt, but he ignored the pain. He was needed on the bridge, and the Doctor was a little busy taking care of Seven right now. The turbolift slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open, revealing the bridge, which was just as chaotic as the shuttle bay. Kathryn stood in the middle of the bridge with her hands on her hips while glaring angrily at the viewscreen. She didn't have a view of what was going on on the surface, but that didn't stop her from staring at it, willing for something to appear. At the sound of the turbolift opening, she spun around. Her eyes widened with surprise when she saw Tom on the bridge.

"We need to get out of here," he announced boldly without bothering with any type of greeting.

"We're going to wait out the storm," Kathryn countered. "It's too unsafe to try and take off in the middle of a plasma storm."

"With all due respect, Captain, we're in far more danger here." Tom approached the conn. The young ensign who sat in his seat immediately abandoned it, giving it up to it's rightful owner, so to speak. As soon as he sat down, Tom felt like he was returning home after a long vacation. His fingers had a mind of their own as they flew across the consoles spread in front of him. He'd readily ignore the Captain's orders and take off on his own if necessary. They had to get out of here as soon as the rest of the away team was on board safely.

"The aliens are retreating."

"Just to regroup and get better weapons," Aritlin pointed out from the back of the bridge. Kathryn and Tom had been so caught up in their conversation that they didn't notice Chakotay, Tuvok, Harry and Aritlin enter the bridge. With her eyes narrowed in frustration, Kathryn spun around to see who was arguing with her.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but this is my starship, so I make the decisions around here," she snapped. It was far too dangerous to take off in this storm. One of her crew was already in sickbay, and she wasn't going to risk the lives of more of her crew by doing something as reckless as take off in the middle of a plasma storm.

"Captain, Aritlin's people are the ones attacking us. He has defected and desires to help us. His insight could prove to be invaluable," Tuvok argued. It shocked Kathryn that he would speak so freely against her in front of the crew. Normally, he would speak his mind, but it was in a far more private setting, never somewhere like this. Kathryn felt torn. Tuvok just openly admitted that this alien's people were the ones attacking Voyager, and yet, he let him onto the starship without a second thought. She didn't know if she should trust him as well, but she also trusted Tuvok's judgement implicitly. Kathryn eyed the Kalrussian suspiciously.

"Fine," she relented. Although she said she trusted Aritlin, her eyes gave away the fact that she still was highly suspicious of him. "What should we do?"

"You need to get out of here right away," Aritlin replied. "The longer we stay here, the worse it'll be. This is the nicest ship my people have seen in years, and there's no way they're going to let it get away without a fight. They're already calling in reinforcements, I guarantee it. We need to get in the air right away." Kathryn turned to Tom, who was anxiously waiting for orders.

"Lieutenant Paris, can you get us out of here?" she demanded earnestly.

"I sure can, but it's not going to be an easy take off," Tom assured from his seat at the front of the bridge. Already, he was starting to think about the best way to get out of here with minimal damage to the starship. It was probably going to be one of the biggest challenges of his piloting career, but he knew it could be done.

"Do whatever you can."

"Just be careful," Aritlin added. "The shuttles are equipped with short range missiles. They'll use everything they can to keep you from taking off."

"Shields at maximum," Kathryn barked. Harry didn't need to be told twice. He was one step ahead of her and ready to get out of here. This planet had been nothing but a nightmare almost from the very beginning, and he'd happily leave it all behind.

Mobile regenerator in hand, Icheb burst into sickbay. He'd barely had time to catch his breath before Seven appeared, being supported by two crewmen. He abandoned the mobile regenerator on the nearest biobed and immediately rushed forward to help. He scooped her up bridal style and carried her to the biobed at the far side of sickbay in the small surgery alcove. The Borg implants that wove across his body helped him to carry the unwieldy form that was Seven's unconscious body, but only just barely. It was still quite a load for one person to carry on his own, especially Icheb. Her fever ravaged body blazed against him as he held her close. Her head flopped against his shoulder, and her limp hand flopped helplessly as he hurried across sickbay. Voyager trembled under Icheb's feet, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Tricorder in hand, the Doctor hovered over his shoulder, trying to get some more readings on Seven's fragile condition. They couldn't risk wasting any time, her situation was dire.

As carefully as possible, Icheb deposited Seven on the biobed. He didn't waste any time hooking her up to the mobile regenerator. His eyes flitted over her unconscious form. The Doctor continued to scan her, although his tricorder wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. Voyager continued to jump and shake as the red alert siren blared obnoxiously in the background. The Doctor pursed his lips in frustration. How was he supposed to treat a critically ill patient when the room kept shaking like this? He understood that there was a serious situation going on here, past Seven's current condition, but he still needed some semblance of stability to properly treat her. Sighing, he put away the tricorder and pressed a cortical node to Seven's temple to measure her brain activity. He had no idea how to go about treating her, and he had to think fast, as time was not on their side. At least now she was hooked up to the mobile regenerator, which seemed to be doing its job. It was a small step in the right direction, but he knew it would be a long journey.

"What happened?" Icheb demanded.

"She needs to regenerate," the Doctor as he stood in front of a console and analyzed the readings from the cortical node. Her brain activity was limited, but there appeared to be no lasting damage as far as he could tell. It was too early to tell though. He had a feeling that a lot of this would be a waiting game.

"That doesn't make any sense," Icheb argued. "Seven's always nagging me to regenerate, she wouldn't allow herself to become this critically ill from not regenerating."

"The mobile regenerator she took on the away mission was heavily damaged." Icheb was stunned into silence. Mobile regenerators didn't just malfunction or fall apart, they were made to withstand all sorts of damage and still properly function. It didn't make any sense to him.

Voyager shuddered as Tom gently coaxed her off the ground. It was only a few hundred meters off the ground when it jerked to the side, sending everyone on the bridge stumbling to keep their balance. Tom sighed. This was far more difficult than he thought. If it was a small shuttle, he would be able to dart through the clouds without much of a problem, but a large starship was a completely different story. He got Voyager back on track. The starship seemed to groan in protest as he pushed it to break through the clouds. Just when he thought they were in the clear, both literally and figuratively, Voyager shook again.

"We've been hit on the starboard side," Harry announced over the chaos.

"Shields are at eighty percent," Tuvok added.

"Those are the missiles I was telling you about," Aritlin commented, although he was simply pointing out the obvious. Kathryn spun around to face him. Her usually well groomed hair was starting to stick up all over the place, although her main priority was anything but her appearance right now. She needed to get her crew out of here, and then she needed to figure out what the hell had happened to her away team.

"What's the range on the missiles?" she questioned. Aritlin opened and closed his mouth several times as he attempted to figure out the answer. He had no idea. They never measured how far the missiles went, they simply fired them at starships in an attempt to incapacitate them until they couldn't hit them anymore.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "But we've never been able to take down a ship that's past the lower atmosphere." Kathryn turned to face Tom.

"You heard him, Tom. Get us out of the lower atmosphere." Aritlin's mind spun as he tried to think of something, anything, that could help his kindly benefactors get off this planet without falling prey to his people. Suddenly, it dawned on him.

"It's hard to aim the missiles," he blurted out excitedly. "The more you dodge and weave, the harder it'll be for them. We lost a ship a few weeks ago because it kept moving all over the place. We've been meaning to fix it, but we don't have the technology." That was code for they haven't been able to steal the technology from an unsuspecting victim. In a way, they were like the Borg, stealing from others to benefit themselves. The only difference was the fact that the Borg were also mass murderers, although the Kalrussians probably had blood on their hands as well.

"Tom, evasive pattern theta five," Chakotay ordered from where he stood next to Kathryn. Both of them kept their eyes locked on the viewscreen, anxious to get out of here as quickly as possible.

"Aye, Commander." Tom had already been in the process of initiating that exact evasive pattern. It was the perfect maneuver to hopefully get them out of here in one piece. It felt good to be back.

Voyager drifted to the left for several seconds before immediately darting to the right. No sooner had it cut over to the right did it swerve to the left. To the inhabitants of the starship, it felt like they were on some sort of carnival ride, not fleeing for their lives. The viewscreen was covered by clouds, punctuated by bright flashes of lightning and missile fire that made it impossible to really see where they were going. The starship jumped and jerked to the side, an indication that it had been struck, although it was impossible to tell if it was courtesy of lightning or a missile.

"Shields are at seventy percent," Tuvok stated in his usual calm manner.

"The hull is holding up," Harry added. "We should be fine." Chakotay had his doubts. Countless things had gone wrong in this away mission, it wouldn't surprise him if something were to happen to Voyager as well, not with all the bad luck they'd been having.

The missile fire became more sporadic as the clouds began to disperse, indicating they were almost in the clear. Voyager continued to shudder as it rode out the last of the plasma storm. Suddenly, the starship broke through the clouds and lurched forward with surprising speed that caught everyone off guard. Kathryn's foot shot out to catch her balance. They were free; they had finally managed to escape. A sense of relief washed over the bridge. Chakotay flung himself down on his chair and took a moment to breath. While there was still so much for him to worry about, namely Seven, at least they'd made it back to Voyager and were out of harm's way. The most difficult part was done; they'd survived. The red alert siren continued to scream in the background, but he didn't hear it.

While Chakotay seemed to relax a little, Kathryn was still on edge. There were so many unanswered questions swirling in her mind, and she had no idea where to start. When she came back to rescue the away team, the last thing she expected was for Voyager to take off in the middle of a plasma storm while besieged by a strange alien race. She looked at her away team; they looked like hell. All three men were haggard and exhausted with dark circles under their eyes and stubble creeping across their cheeks and chins. The most of them had shed their heavy uniforms for the lightweight short sleeved shirts underneath. Dirt and dust streaked their clothes, and their shoes looked like they walked hundreds of kilometers in them. She couldn't tell the last time they'd showered or had a decent meal.

"Chakotay, Mr. Paris, Mr. Kim, I want you to report to sickbay right away to get checked out as well. Then I want to know what the hell just happened," she ordered. Chakotay pushed himself to his feet. He had been about to head down to sickbay himself but not to get checked out; he needed to know how Seven was doing. His personal health could wait, she was more important to him. The three of them had all suffered minor injuries, if any, just exhaustion really. He figured they would all need a good night's sleep, a long shower and a nice, hot meal.

The pain in Tom's side was getting worse. At first, he thought that he was fine, just a little sore from the firefight, but now he realized that a trip to sickbay might be necessary. He might have broken a rib or something when he fell. He pushed himself to his feet and winced. Searing pain shot through his side. This was more than just a broken rib or bruised side.

"Tom, are you alright?" Chakotay asked as he got to his feet and took several steps towards the Lieutenant with concern written across his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tom insisted through clenched teeth. As soon as he said those words, however, he knew it was a lie. The floor of the bridge began to tilt beneath his feet. At first, he thought there was something wrong with the navigational systems on Voyager that was causing it to bank to one side. He glanced back at the conn and found that everything was in working order. The pain continued to tear through his side with each breath. Unable to take it anymore, Tom's hand flew to his side, clenching it tightly. As soon as he did, he felt something wet, causing him to take his hand away. Blood smeared across his hand, turning the pale flesh bright red. Suddenly, the pain became too much to bear as the bridge continued to spin around him. Aware of the severity of his injury, Tom felt the world around him slip away as he crumpled unconscious to the floor.

Author's Note: I hope this answers some of the questions you guys were so desperate for! Leave a review and let me know.