Imperial Intelligence Headquarters
Qo'noS, 2392
"Missing?" Ice-cold tendrils of fear snaked through Krang's body, settling themselves around his heart and squeezing mercilessly. "What do you mean, missing?"
As he waited, a faint prickling sensation warned Krang of people approaching from behind, but his attention on the ice cream vendor, he thought nothing of it, assuming that the newcomers were simply joining the queue. He did not expect the sharp pain at the back of his neck as a hypospray injected something into the ridges of his spine. Almost immediately his vision began to blur. He started to turn to face his attacker, hand going to the knife sheathed in his belt in a futile attempt to defend himself, but his limbs would not respond and as blackness claimed him, he felt himself starting to fall.
They had taken him so easily, right out of what should have been one of the safest places on the planet. A children's playground, shielded against transporters, and full of security personnel. A full year had gone by, and he still did not quite understand how it had happened, nor was he completely recovered from the torture he'd undergone. Physically, he was more or less fully recovered, but psychologically, much as he did not like to admit it, he still had a long way to go. PTSD the doctors had called it, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Whatever name they gave it, the effect was the same – nightmares. More than once he had woken, drenched in cold sweat, his voice hoarse from screaming as his mind tried to process the terrible things that had happened to him. He'd had nightmares once before, so many years ago when he'd believed Chrissie and the children to be dead, killed along with so many others in what had become known as the Frontera Massacre. T'Lia had helped end those nightmares, and what she had taught him had ultimately saved his life – and more importantly, his honour. But those dreams had been the result of fears, not fact and those techniques were of limited help now.
Nor did the nightmares always come in his sleep. As his mind healed, the flashbacks were thankfully not so frequent, but a sight… a sound… a smell… any of those things could trigger violently intense visions that left him shaking and not knowing what was real. His breath caught. Chrissie… something stirred inside him as he thought of her, the angel whose calm, soothing presence meant safety and brought warmth and healing. But she was missing and that sense of her in his mind was nothing more than illusion.
His daughter's voice echoed in his mind. "Can I have an ice cream, Daddy?" Blackness, and then another, less welcome voice, cold and hard. "Oh… you're awake. Can't be 'aving that, can we now." Blackness again. A third voice, cruel and demanding, wanting information that he could not… must not… give.
A protection detail had been organised to ensure the safety of his family, and a year later, his home was still guarded. It was an easy enough job, one that might have been considered boring, but Chrissie being Chrissie, had more or less adopted the mix of FedKIN and Starfleet security personnel who were assigned to protect her, making sure they had regular supplies of tea, coffee and her now-legendary brownies, and as a consequence, there was no shortage of volunteers.
Trapped underwater, he could not breathe. Hard hands holding him down. His lungs were burning, screaming for the precious, life-giving oxygen that was being denied him. The pressure was gone and with great effort, he forced himself upwards. Breaking the surface, he gasped for air before his head was shoved back under the water again…
She was well guarded. So how was it possible that she was missing? The fear turned to terror, almost, but not quite developing into outright panic. If they had her… whoever they were… The mystery of his abduction had never been completely solved and not all of the perpetrators had been caught. The thought of his gentle, loving mate in their hands was horrifying. She would not survive what had been done to him and he knew without a doubt that to protect Chrissie, he would do anything, say anything – betray everything he held dear and tell them whatever they wanted to know.
She was missing and he was drowning.
