Kathryn looked despairingly at the solid wall.

Gretchen was on my left. She thought desperately. B'Elanna was on the other side of Kh'thoh.

Just as she began to turn to interrogate the Klingon, a woman's figure stumbled out of what appeared to be solid rock.

"Captain," said Gretchen, out of breath and tossing her hair, "They didn't make me eat blood worms."

"What happened?" asked Kathryn urgently.

"They asked me a few questions," said Gretchen shrugging, "It was honestly really boring."

Is she lying? Kathryn asked herself, searching Gretchen's face.

The young woman looked back, as if surprised by the intense gaze. Her eyes were open and uncomplicated.

Is she telling the truth, or just a really good liar?

…..to my knowledge she's never lied to me before.

I'm becoming paranoid, thought Kathryn, scratching her head and trying to shake off the effects of whatever she had just been through.

How many times would it have been easier to lie to me?

We had a rough start with her omissions, but I know how she reacts to things now.

She sighed in and out, closing her eyes for the briefest moment and fighting the panic down, I can tell when Gretchen feels guilty. I'm the Captain, I can't stop trusting my instincts now. She isn't lying.

She opened her eyes again to Gretchen's concerned gaze.

"Where's B'Elanna?" asked Kathryn suddenly.

I assumed Gretchen was the one in danger, but why isn't our Klingon hybrid back?

She had no combadge to call Chakotay.

There's only the crystal. And that would steal someone's chance to heal, or leave my crew alone.

"Is she in danger Kh'thoh?" asked Kathryn, turning finally to the Klingon survivor.

He was seated, and looking at the floor, but turned his face up and answered Kathryn's question.

"Little Miss Feisty? No," said Kh'thoh, smiling slightly, "She's not in danger."

"When will she be back?"

"Don't know," said the Klingon man, spreading his legs apart farther and leaning into the wall behind him, "Nothing to do but wait."

My favorite thing.

A half an hour later, they heard screaming.

"Ugh!" yelled B'Elanna a moment later, coming through the wall. This time Kathryn saw the clear shape of the door before B'Elanna slammed it closed and it disappeared.

The half-Klingon woman stomped and shouted, cursing loudly and shaking her fist at the sky, "Those idiots!"

"What happened B'Elanna?" said Gretchen, standing up.

"Nothing," answered B'Elanna, facing her and screaming, "Absolutely nothing."

"Something must have happened B'Elanna," said Kathryn, also standing, "Did they examine your eyes?"

"They sat me at this table and asked me a bunch of stupid questions. Like where was I born, and was I married, and what classes did I take at the Academy! What in the Klingon Hell is that supposed to tell them?"

"That's the kind of stuff they asked me," said Gretchen, "I had to make it pretty vague because of….circumstances," she said, glancing at Kh'thoh, surreptitiously, "But they didn't even notice or care."

"Was it in a dark hallway?" asked Kathryn, having spent an embarrassing amount of time in worried silence before B'Elanna's arrival.

I didn't even think to ask Gretchen that before.

"No," said Gretchen, "A really well lit white room, everyone was perfectly friendly. Just kind of impassive."

"What did they say about your eyes B'Elanna?"

"Nothing," huffed B'Elanna, closing her arms over her chest, "Nothing. They can't do anything for it. I don't think any of them were even doctors. Naomi Wildman's Flotter doll could've given me a better second opinion," yelled B'Elanna, shaking her fist, before she stopped herself, "But it still counts," she shouted at Kathryn, "The Doctor can do my surgery now."

"We can talk about it on the ship B'Elanna," said Kathryn forcefully, "I assume you're going back there now."

"Aren't you?" exclaimed B'Elanna, "Aren't you leaving this stupid sham holy site?"

"I'm staying," said Kh'thoh, rising up.

"I'm staying," said Gretchen.

The younger woman shrugged as Kathryn looked at her, "I have a feeling."

I have one too.

What can I do? Thought Kathryn, as B'Elanna and Gretchen looked at her for an answer, I wish Chakotay or Tuvok were here.

I can feel the paranoia lingering in my veins.

I could order Gretchen and myself back to the ship.

Is it only a harsh test, or a dangerous one?

I have to make a decision. She made eye contact with Gretchen, who was gazing back with something, finally, like hope.

"I'm staying too," said Kathryn, nodding.

"B'Elanna, I'm ordering you back to the ship," said Janeway commandingly.

B'Elanna looked in the direction of the two women, trying to meet their eyes and evaluate them. She failed, but finally nodded stiffly.

"Tell Chakotay to keep a close watch," said Janeway.

B'Elanna nodded grimly, and took out her beacon, flicking it so that it turned on.

A moment later she was gone, disappearing up in a beam of light.

It was only after she was gone that Kathryn realized she had told no one of the strange occurrences that she had endured.

Why is my brain foggy?

It had been so slow she had not realized that it was slow.

My thinking is unclear, more…easily distracted.

Something is strange here.

But I've made my decision for now, she thought, as she looked at Gretchen.

Gretchen smiled back at her and she felt her heart ease and grow.

It wouldn't be the first strange religious site.

Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?

About an hour after B'Elanna's departure, one of the robed attendants returned, and they were led to a living area which they were told would be their housing for the duration of their stay. Kathryn was shocked to see it looked rustic, but comfortable. The back room had three sleeping palettes and a small washing area. In the front room there was a spread of food on a low table, fruits, cheeses, and a disturbing array of meats and strong smelling liquids.

"Don't drink that Gretchen," ordered Kathryn, "Klingon liquor has a notoriously strong affect on humans…and that's probably real meat."

"It's certainly real meat," grunted Kh'thoh, "Your soft Federation gave up hunting. Overcivilized cowards. It's a disgrace."

The tall Klingon immediately sat down and began ripping through what looked like a bird's carcass, shoving it into his face and pouring the liquor down his mouth so quickly that it trickled down his beard.

Gretchen's nose crinkled slightly, but nevertheless she sat down and selected a rounded metallic blue fruit and began eating.

I feel nauseous.

It was not Kh'thoh's questionable table manners, but the feeling of dread that clenched her stomach.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" asked Gretchen, suddenly alarmed.

"Sure," said Kathryn, sitting down herself.

I don't want to disturb her mind…..and we can go back anytime we want.

Right?

Kathryn tried to tamp down the fear, and put a cheese spread on an orange slice of toast. It was rather strong, but the dried green fruit she picked to eat with it was delicious. Without her asking, the same attendant brought them a pitcher of water, apparently having heard, or read, her thoughts on the liquor.

Kathryn was unsettled again, but did her best not to show it.

She surreptiously glanced around the room for any traps or weapons, but saw nothing.

Of course the food could be poisoned.

Her stomach clenched again and she sighed.

I'm not used to this much fear. I'm usually much stronger than this.

She tried again to put the thoughts away, she did not manage it, but let them run in the background, accepting the paranoia for now.

About an hour into the meal, as Kh'thoh finally seemed to have finished most of the meat on the table, and all of the liquor, the lead attendant entered again, flanked by two others.

"Which of you is going first?" asked the lead attendant, the arrogant male voice ringing again.

"I am!" growled Kh'thoh, standing up.

"No," said Kathryn, also standing, the Captain's full authority in her tone, "I am."

She stared at Kh'thoh, steel in her gaze, and he laughed, "Very well," he said in satisfaction, "I can see that you're a woman who leads. I'll not take your self-respect from you."

"Be careful, Captain," he added, voice different as she turned to go, "Asclepius is a very cruel place. Our gods do not admire weakness."

"I'll go with you," said Gretchen, standing up now, as she had watched the discussion in surprise, munching her fruit.

Someone else has cloudy thoughts right now.

"You will not," ordered Kathryn, glaring at her, "You will sit down, now. You'll stay here and eat until I get back."

Gretchen blinked at her with wide, innocent eyes, and obeyed, grabbing for another pink fruit and putting it to her lips.

Well, that feels wrong.

Nevertheless, Kathryn raised her shoulders and her chin, and thanked Heaven for small favors.

At least she's safe.

I'll face this now. Whatever comes.

Kathryn was led to a dimly lit area, it was quite large and circular. There were no visible stands, but nevertheless, it reminded her of an arena.

It is a Klingon planet.

"Captain," said the lead attendant again, "Come and choose your weapon."

I was right.

She moved towards the table in the far side of the room, and found that the table was stacked with weapons of all sorts, hundreds of ba'leths of all styles. Some had inscriptions on them, and a few were so old they could be older than the Federation…or the Empire.

Some anthropology major would die to come here.

"We have more," said the sneering attendant, "If you do not find what you want. It has been a very long time since we had a human here."

Kathryn nodded, mostly out of curiosity, and the three white robed attendants led her to a backdoor, and into a hallway, and then to a large, even dimmer lit cavern.

Someone hit some sort of light, and although the shelves themselves remainded dark she could get a image of how many there were. 20 shelves above her head, 40 to her side, hundreds and hundreds behind her.

She did not want to guess how many empty weapons there were…or what that meant.

She forced herself to think practically. They were not all Ba'leths. She quickly found a section with other weapons.

Do I want a sword, or a dagger, a mace or a spear?

"Can I have more than one?"

"You can use as many as you like." said the attendant.

It is a Klingon planet.

There were belts, and she choose one, fastening it tightly around her waist, and adding a dagger, and then another, just in case.

I wish I could have a phaser.

She picked up one of the many ba'leths, and banged it against the metal shelf. It clang and did not give at all. She turned it in her hand, and it moved right away.

"Seems solid enough," said Kathryn out loud.

She debated for another moment about adding another weapon, but it seemed all she could reasonably carry.

"Is there armor?" asked Kathryn, turning to look him in the face.

"No," said the attendant, "You won't need it."

What does that mean?

Kathryn followed the attendant in silence.

"You will stand here," said the attendant, pointing to the center of the arena, "If you are still standing at the end of this, you will be healed."

"I won't kill or maim others to be healed," said Kathryn, glaring at him.

"We shall see Captain," said the obnoxious attendant, putting his hood back on and moving away.