Untitled: Part Two.

began to struggle, trying to force her way upright, but she found her movements strangely detached and limited. The Klingon half of her personality began to rage as she reached wakefulness, protesting against her helpless situation. Still, the rocking and grunting continued. Opening her eyes, she hissed as bright sunlight pierced her foggy mind. Narrowing her eyes to slits, she began to realise something was very wrong with her perspective. The trees were moving past her horizontally, their branches seeming to reach straight up instead of out. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head.

Slowly, she began to ascertain what was going on. She was being carried somewhere, held gently in someone’s’ arms as they walked, occasionally letting out little grunts of exertion. The smell of blood and sweat hit her nose like a physical blow, and she became doubly determined to stand up and get away.

‘Hey!’ She managed, ‘Let me down!’ She began squirming, lashing out with her fists and growling like the animals that had attacked them. The carrier began a growl of their own; one that spoke of frustration and anger. Slowly, she was lowered to the ground, and she stopped struggling, taking a moment to eye her captor.

A tall, swarthy woman stood in-front of her, sweat pouring down her face in the sun. She was wearing what looked like animal skin clothes – a thick shirt and well cured trousers, the seems tight and the clothes strong and functional. Her hair was more like a mane, matted and tangled beyond all hope. She bared her teeth at B’Elanna, pointing down the track.

‘Listen, I’m not goin’ anywhere with you!’ B’Elanna snarled, trying hard to make the woman stay in focus.

The woman bent down in the dirt and reached out a hand for Torres’s torso, but the Chief Engineer swatted it away. Her movements felt like she was trying to push her limbs through treacle, and she knew something was wrong, but she refused to show weakness. ‘Don’t touch me!’

Again, the woman reached out a hand, and again B’Elanna swatted it away, but it was getting harder. Her vision began to swim as the heat of the day finally began to get to her. She began to sway, her elbows trembling as they refused to hold her upright. Finally, they gave up, but before she could fall flat on her back, hands circled her gently, lifting her up and once again the rocking lulled her into unconsciousness.

#

‘Uhhhgn.’ Captain Janeway screwed her eyes tighter, wishing she could spend a few more moments in bed. She turned over, bumping someone else in the darkness. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered absently. Suddenly, her eyes flew open, bringing her awake in seconds. She was in a bed…but it wasn’t hers…and neither was the arm casually hanging off her waist.

She made the mistake of looking up – a breast, almost fully uncovered through a tattered uniform, stared her full in the face. Swallowing hard, she put the arm back over the other side of her and sat up slowly. She was lying on a crude cot, made from branches and rough rope and filled with some sort of dried grass or straw. To her left, with the tattered uniform, lay Lieutenant Benson, and the wandering arm had belonged to none other than her Astrometrics Officer and resident ex-Borg, Seven Of Nine.

She shivered slightly, more from the gravity of the situation than of any real cold, and slowly got out of the bed, careful not to disturb the other two occupants. They were a in cave, natural light filtering through from a gap in the roof. The walls were lined with a rough moss, and the floor was packed down dirt – where she had expectations of caves being damp and dreary, this one had an almost homely quality. Having studied the cave, she took a moment to study herself. A large rip in her uniform was visible, and it would have exposed her stomach had someone not bandaged it. She remembered having weight on her back, and she reached around, finding a plethora of small poultices covering most of her skin. Benson was less well off; dried blood caked most of her face, and her uniform had the same amount of material left as a small bikini. Again, though, someone had bandaged her wounds, and the Lieutenants breathing was deep and even. Out of the three there, Seven had fared the best, with only a few small cuts and bruises.

Three, three…why does that sound wrong? Janeway asked herself, willing her mind to clear quickly. B’Elanna! The thought hit her surprisingly hard, blindsiding her and making her gasp. Where is she?!

The next time she returned to consciousness, B’Elanna still felt the familiar rocking motion. The sun was much lower in the skies, but the heat was just as bad. A bead of sweat from her carrier landed on her forehead, and she looked up. The woman was absolutely dripping, sweat marking long trails in the dirt on her face; along her proud nose and lips compressed in concentration, and it dripped over the edge of her cheek bones. B’Elanna noticed that the woman was now wearing a sleeveless, lighter top, her larger thick top bundled on Torres’s stomach. The woman’s skin was dyed a rich copper brown from the sun, and the sinews in her arms and shoulders were plain to see when she shifted the Engineers’ weight.

It was then B’Elanna realised she had her hands intertwined around the woman’s upper arm, feeling the muscles move and shift under skin that felt like slick leather. She swallowed as a different type of heat, brought on by her Klingon side and the smell of blood and sweat in the air, began to flush her face red. She coughed, and the woman glanced down.

‘You wanna put me down?’ B’Elanna asked, trying to be polite as she felt that the woman didn’t actually intend to hurt her. The woman didn’t respond though, she just kept walking.

‘Do you even understand me?’ Torres said, feeling a little more trepidation. ‘And where are the rest of my group?’ The woman blew sweat off her lips and kept walking.

‘Hey! Let me down!’ B’Elanna decided to try the wiggling again, and sure enough the woman took a few more steps and then set her down. Torres watched as the woman went to sit down, but her legs failed halfway, dumping her in the dirt on her ass.

‘Doesn’t look like you’re in much better shape than I am.’ B’Elanna muttered angrily. Now that she didn’t have the breeze caused by constant movement, she was appalled at how strong the smell of blood was. The woman looked up, shading her eyes from the sun with her hand. She pointed at B’Elanna and the down the path they were following.

‘Nuh uh.’ Torres shook her head. ‘We’re going back to my friends right now!’ she tried to stand up, but a blinding pain in her side and legs made her think twice. Tears gathered in her eyes as the pain built, aggravated by the sudden movement. The woman moved closer in the dirt, reaching out for B’Elanna’s torso again. Torres moved to slap her away, but the pain shot through her nervous system, blanking out all thought for a moment. When her awareness came back, she was lying in the path, and the woman was kneeling over her, with B’Elanna’s head resting on her knees.

The woman shook her head, a serious expression on her face.

‘Ok, I get it, no moving.’ Torres groaned. ‘But where are my friends?’

The woman didn’t speak, but she pointed at B’Elanna’s midriff and then down the path, grunting slightly as if to communicate.

‘Great.’ Torres mumbled to herself, ‘I’m being abducted to Kahless knows where by someone who has the I.Q of a Targ. Wonderful.’

The woman helped her to sit up, and B’Elanna hissed through her teeth as the pain returned, although with less force. The stranger moved round to Torres’s front and gently picked up the Engineers’ wrists.

‘What are you doing?’ B’Elanna asked, baring her teeth. The stranger made a soft sound in her throat; one designed to suggest no harm was being done. Torres suddenly realised that she couldn’t get anywhere without the strangers help. She didn’t protest as the woman lifted her arms, but she opened her mouth to speak as the woman wound B’Elannas’ arms around her neck.

The woman heard her inrush of breath and hushed her, gently sliding her arms underneath the smaller woman. B’Elanna felt a jolt of pain as they stood, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She noticed as the started to walk again that the woman was swaying slightly, as if caught in a breeze. She realised that she must have been carrying her for the better part of a day, and it was taking it’s toll. Never one too comfortable with help at the best of times, she felt doubly guilty and uncomfortable now.

After a few moments walking in silence, B’Elanna said. ‘So you saved us from the beasts?’

The woman looked down at her questioningly.

‘You know, big meat eaters. The hunters.’ She unwound her hands from around the woman’s’ neck and cupped them over her mouth, doing a fair impression of one of the big cats. Then she pointed at the woman and simulated punching one of the beasts.

The stranger nodded her understanding. She growled then, but B’Elanna heard nuances far surpassing an animals growl. It’s tone suggested that it had not been as easy fight; the cats had been worthy adversaries.

‘Did you get hurt?’ Torres asked, an unusual amount of compassion lacing her voice. The woman this time shrugged her incomprehension, her breathing becoming more laboured again as they started up a long hill.

B’Elanna pointed to her midriff and simulated pain, then pointed at the stranger. The woman shook her head.

‘Wow. You’d make a good Klingon.’ B’Elanna said appraisingly.

Section Six.

‘Hush, Lieutenant.’ Janeway was sat on the edge of the cot as Benson awoke. ‘You’ve been injured.’

‘Captain?’ The sleepy Security Officer stared at her commanding Officer and shook her head, wincing with pain. ‘Where are we?’

‘I don’t know, Benson.’ Janeway said honestly, helping the Lieutenant to sit upright. Benson looked around with wide eyes and gasped as she saw the state of her uniform.

‘Did you do these?’ She asked, forgetting protocol for a moment as she stared at the bandages.

‘No, and I don’t know who did. Presumably the same person who saved us and brought us here.’ Janeway sighed and rubbed a hand across her eyes. ‘We have to find a way to contact Voyager.’

Instinctively, Benson reached for her Com-badge. The Captain reached out and grabbed her wrist gently. ‘It doesn’t work, Lieutenant.’ She said softly. Then she remembered herself and dropped Benson’s hand, standing upright and smoothing what was left of her uniform down. ‘We have to get out of these caves before we even attempt to contact the ship.’

‘Yes ma’am.’ Benson stood and tried to run a hand through her matted blonde locks. Then she noticed Seven. ‘Is she ok?’ She asked, once again becoming a functional Security Officer.

‘Yes. She’s just sleeping.’

‘And Lieutenant Commander Torres?’ Benson asked, her voice becoming a little strained.

‘She’s…not here.’ The Captain said finally. ‘I haven’t seen anyone else since I woke up.’

The Security Officer gave a curt nod and then gave Janeway a sincere stare. ‘I’ll get you back to the ship, ma’am.’ She said, ‘and I’ll do whatever needs to be done to see we all get back safely.’

Note to self, put Benson up for promotion, The Captain thought, silently impressed by Benson’s coping skills.

‘How long have we been here?’ Benson asked, studying the cave for exits and hiding places.

‘At my best guess, at least half a day, maybe more.’ She’d had to rely on looking through the small chimney like aperture in the ceiling to gauge the time.

Suddenly, a moan escaped the sleeping Borgs’ lips. The Captain and Benson were at the bedside immediately, and Janeway knelt down, her voice soft.

‘Seven, can you hear me?’

Seven Of Nine licked dried lips and said. ‘Yes Captain.’

The other two helped her sit up, and Janeway checked her for previously unnoticed injuries. She found none. Benson moved away, searching the small cave for implements or their things; anything that might prove useful.

‘Captain.’ Seven said. ‘I am glad to see you are alright.’

‘And I’m glad to see you are unhurt as well, Seven.’ Janeway said, smiling slightly. ‘Now, lets see about getting out of here.’

‘Captain!’ Came Bensons’ urgent call a minute later.

The other two quickly traversed the hard packed floor to the other side of the room, where Benson had discovered a hidden chest. Inside were all of their Tri-corders and Phasers. Some of them were slightly beaten and few had teeth marks in, but a further inspection discovered that they worked.

After a moments scanning, they had a path out of the cave network. Taking one last look around, they headed out.

#

…‘and then, can you believe this, we got stuck out in space in two space suits. I tell you, living aboard Voyager has just been one crisis after another.’ B’Elanna paused to take a deep breath. She had been talking conversationally for at least an hour – after hours walking in silence, Torres had needed to say something to distract herself from the monotony. The woman had listened, an intent look on her face. Recently, she had started to stumble and trip, and her breathing was more ragged than ever. Even in the rapidly fading light, B’Elanna could see that the stranger was still sweating and even though she wasn’t a doctor, she guessed the woman didn’t have long before dehydration, exhaustion or both set in.

‘You know, you could let me walk.’ B’Elanna suggested. The woman, as always, ignored her, walking resolutely on.

They finally crested the huge hill, and Torres gasped. Laid out before her was a huge city, houses lit up in the darkening sky. She could see the layout and see that the place was obviously technologically advanced.

‘Why didn’t we see this from Voyager?’ The Chief Engineer gasped, ‘Why didn’t we pick it up on sensors?’

Suddenly, a bright light blinded them, followed by a shout. ‘Halt! Who goes there!’

The woman cleared her throat and yelled something that sounded like. ‘Guuuhhhkkl- uoowwff! Kkklli!’ It was something that sounded like a cross between a snarl and a growl, and the effect it had on the person behind the light was phenomenal.

‘H’rastack!’ It cried, ‘Traitor! The traitor is here!’ Suddenly, they were surrounded by lights and voices, milling around and B’Elanna felt compelled to speak.

‘I am Lieutenant Commander B’Elanna Torres, of the Starship Voyager! We mean you no harm!’

There was some commotion at the back of the group and slowly some lights were lowered, affording them a glimpse of a part of the crowd. Several people who were obviously guards were standing stiffly to attention as another person pushed their way through.

Finally, they were faced with a dour looking man, who’s face was taunt with disbelief. ‘Traitor!’ He hissed, ‘Why are you here? You were warned never to come back to our city!’

‘T’uaracww, grooucccl!’ The woman hissed.

The man shook his head. ‘You knew the price for coming back.’ He said solemnly.

The woman slowly put B’Elanna on the floor, backing off from her a step. ‘Grrrraoow!’ She said, pointing at the Engineer.

The man slowly knelt before B’Elanna. ‘You can speak.’ He said.

‘Of course I can speak!’ The half Klingon snapped, her patience dangerously thin. ‘And would someone like to tell me what is going on?’

‘The Traitor has bought you here. She believes you are in need of medical attention. Are you telling me you don’t know who she is?’

‘I don’t who she is, I don’t know who you are, I don’t know where I am. I don’t even know what time it is!’

‘You will come with me for questioning.’

‘Questioning? What for?!’

‘You came here with her.’ The man said curtly, as if that was all the explanation she needed.

The woman, standing by a little way off, moved forward, growling. She attempted to put herself between B’Elanna and the man, but a guard blocked her path. She was already extremely weak for the long trek, and Torres could see her swaying again. One backhand from the guard was all it took to bring the powerful woman to her knees.

‘Wait!’ Torres cried, trying to stand despite immense pain. ‘This isn’t necessary.’

The man smiled, although it was completely devoid of humour. ‘I beg to differ.’

Section Seven.

‘Janeway to Voyager, please respond.’

‘Captain!’ Chakotays’ voice sounded through the com-link, choked with emotion. ‘Are you ok? Where are you?’

‘We’re on a beach, somewhere west of the one we used for shore leave, Commander.’

Moments later, Seven, The Captain and Benson materialised on the familiar transporter pad.

‘Captain!’ Chakotay rushed forward, grasping her elbow. ‘We were so worried!’ Then his brow knitted. ‘B’Elanna?’ He asked.

Janeway sighed, finally letting her strong Captain’s face wilt a little. ‘We don’t know, Chakotay.’ She sighed, ‘She wasn’t with us when we awoke…neither was the person who we think saved us.’

‘Saved you, from what?’ Chakotay was worried again.

‘It’s a long story, Commander, and we have to get Lieutenant Benson to sickbay.’

‘Understood, Captain.’ He smiled, although it was tinged with sorrow, ‘It’s good to have you back.’

The Captain nodded, and the three dirty, tired, beaten up Star-fleet Officers headed toward sickbay and the ministrations of the Holo Doc.

#

‘Mr Kim, report!’

Harry Kim, the resident Ops Officer, perked up immediately as Janeway strode onto the bridge. ‘I think I might have something Captain.’ He said, punching in a few commands. She made her way over to his station and looked at the information displayed.

‘Why didn’t we notice these readings before?’ She mused out-loud.

Harry Kim looked a little sheepish. ‘It’s my fault, Captain.’ He said, ‘I should have double checked.’

‘Nonsense, Ensign. I don’t want you feeling any guilt over what happened.’ Her tone was sharper than she had intended, but he looked noticeably more comfortable.

‘Yes ma’am!’ He chirped.

‘Here…this signature here…have you identified it yet?’

‘No ma’am.’

Janeway straightened. ‘Janeway to Seven Of Nine.’

‘Seven, I’m sorry to call on you so soon after we get back, but Mr. Kim has found some interesting readings from the planet. I’d like you to meet him in Astrometrics, and see what you can figure out.’

Harry Kim waved another crewman over to his post and then turned to Janeway. ‘The minute we get anything, I’ll let you know Captain.’ He said.

She nodded, and he jogged off the bridge.

‘Captain…’ The voice was Tom Paris’s. ‘B’Elanna?’

She sighed and squared her shoulders, moving to where everyone on the bridge could see her. ‘Lieutenant Torres was not with us when we awoke.’ She said in her best I-am-the-Captain voice, ‘and our top priority is to get her back. If should anyone see anything, and I do mean anything, they think might be important, they should tell me immediately.’

After a chorus of yes ma’ams had passed across the bridge, Janeway locked eyes with Paris. His were full of pain, but there was a strength there; a strength that the Captain had instilled with her words. Now he knew that everyone on the ship would try their hardest to get the Chief Engineer back on board.

#

‘Well, Miss Torres, it seems you heal quickly.’

‘What would prefer; Mistress?’

B’Elanna shut her mouth sullenly, leaning back against the wall. She was in a medical facility – a sterile, slightly frightening looking place – and the doctors had fixed her up nicely. She was sitting on their equivalent of a bio-bed, wearing some sort of gown. It brought back eerie comparisons to the Ocampa facility she had stayed in when they first came to the Delta Quadrant. She had woken only twenty minutes before, disorientated and aching, and her temper was short.

‘Just Torres will be fine.’ She snarled.

‘Well, Torres, I wish to ask you some questions.’ If he wasn’t always so hard looking, B’Elanna reasoned, he’d be quite handsome. His skin, as with most peoples here, was slightly darker than a normal humans, but other than that he seemed to be human. He had thick, black hair and dark eyes, which he narrowed as he leaned closer. ‘Why were you with The Traitor?’ He asked quietly.

‘That woman?’ The man nodded, ‘I only met her yesterday!’

‘Is that right?’ The man raised an eyebrow, his impassive, infuriating demeanour reminding the Engineer of Seven.

‘Look, you want the whole story?’ B’Elanna asked, hopping off the bed and starting to pace. ‘I’m Chief Engineer on-board a Starship. We thought your planet was uninhabited, so we decided to go to one of your beaches-’

‘Why?’ He asked, suspicious.

‘Because we’ve been on board without a break for six months straight!’ Torres snapped. ‘and the crew needed a break. When we landed, I thought I saw a light in the woods, so I went to investigate. Another crew-member followed me, and then we got attacked.’

‘Attacked? By The Traitor?’

‘No.’ B’Elanna said, exasperated, ‘you are really trying to stick it to her, aren’t you?’

He compressed his lips into a displeased line and said, ‘please continue.’

‘There were this big, cat like animals-’

‘Cats?’

‘Ookkkay.’ B’Elanna said slowly, groaning inwardly, ‘Big, about this high, this long. Really powerful, lots of teeth, sharp claws, that sort of thing. Sort of a mottled colour.’

‘Oh, you mean Erath. Very dangerous.’ He nodded.

‘Yeah, you should put up some sort of warning.’ Torres growled. He just shrugged the sort of shrug that said "it’s not my fault if you’re silly enough to go into the forest at night."

‘How many?’ He asked.

B’Elanna paused for a moment and cast her thoughts back. ‘Between five and seven.’ She said. ‘I think.’

For the first time, she saw a flicker of emotion other than irritation flash across his face. His eyes widened as he whispered, ‘Seven? She defeated seven Erath…for you?,’ in a tone of voice that suggested he wouldn’t attack vegetables to save B’Elanna. Then he cleared his throat, regaining his composure. ‘That would explain her injuries.’

Stung by his tone, the Klingon stood up to her full height – still a good half foot lower than him – and snarled, ‘Maybe she has honour!’

He looked down his nose at her and said. ‘I will question you more later.’ And then he turned on his heel, heading for the guarded door.

‘Wait!’ Torres called as a thought hit her. ‘What do you mean injuries?’

He smirked. ‘She carried you here despite having internal injuries and two broken ribs. Now she is suffering from acute dehydration as well. She is dying.’

He waved a hand to someone B’Elanna couldn’t see. Suddenly, a large, flat reflective surface Torres had assumed was some sort of two way mirror on the wall to her left became transparent. She moved forward cautiously and peered down into a secure room in which a lone bed was placed. On the bed, the stranger lay, her breathing laboured and blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

‘Can’t you help her?’ B’Elanna gasped, twisting to face the man.

He laughed, a terrible, bitter sound. Before he passed through the door, he smiled a brutal smile and said. ‘Why would we do that?’