"Tom!" A voice pushed through the fog of darkness, "Speak to me!"
Paris moaned and placed a hand on his head. He slowly rose to a sitting position, and answered Torres, "I'm all right, B'Elanna, though my arm hurts."
Torres knew too well what that meant, "Do you know if they gave you something?"
Paris shook his head. He still felt drowsy, "I think they took some blood. They must have taken too much, cause I feel drowsy and sick to my stomach."
Torres punched the wall in frustration. She wished she knew why they were being tortured, but more so, why the aliens were torturing Paris more.
"I'm sorry, Tom," she whispered, "I wish I could help. I wish I knew a way out of here."
Paris slowly crawled over to the wall, "I think I know a way."
Torres stared in suprise, "How?"
"The creatures carry weapons everytime they enter our rooms. If I can get one of those weapons; I can use it against them, and fight our way to the main control bridge."
"I tried to fight them, but they over powered me. They will over power you."
"Not if they don't expect it."
Torres shook her head, "It's too risky, they'll hurt you even worse that they all ready have."
"I'm not going to sit around fighting the cold while I wait for Voyager. I have to do something."
Torres sighed, knowing that she wouldn't get through to him, "Then be careful."
"I will, don't worry."
"That's all I've been doing since I've been here."
Paris smiled as he put his plan together in his mind.

"The Lyante ship is within viewing range," Kim announced. He put the image on the screen before Janeway even gave the order.
The ship was a dark brown, and not a single light glowed on it. The sight of the Lyante ship gave the bridge crew a sense of dread. The ship looked just like the first time they saw it: drifting and lifeless. Janeway knew better, though.
"Hail them," she said.
"Open."
"Lyante vessal, this is Captain Janeway of the Starship Voyager. You have two of my crew members. I want them returned now."
"They are powering up their weapons," Tuvok announced.
"Shields up," Janeway shouted.
"They're firing."
Yellow lights came from the dark ship, and headed toward Voyager. They hit the ship which tilted to one side, but the shields held.
"Shields are at ninety percent," the Vulcan said.
"Looks like they don't want to give them up," Chakotay said.
"Are we within beaming range?" Janeway asked, glaring at the dark ship.
"We will be within range in ten minutes," Tuvok answered.
Janeway nodded then contaced the transporter room, "Prepare to beam to people to sickbay in ten minutes."
"They're firing upon us again."
The ship shook with the hit, but it only made Janeway more determined.
"We'll be within range in two minutes," Tuvok said.
Janeway tapped her comm badge, "Transporter room, prepare to beam them out on my signal."
"I can't get a lock on them," a female voice said, "Their shields are interferring."
Damn, Janeway thought. Outloud she said, "We'll have to destroy their shields then. Fire phasers."
"Firing phasers," Tuvok said.
Janeway watched as a red-orange line headed toward the Lyante ship. The dark ship jerked to one side then righted itself.
"Their shields are down at eighty percent," Tuvok announced.
"Fire again," Janeway commanded.

Paris and Torres were jerked awake as the Lyante ship was hit. The two were dazed, and didn't know what was happening until the ship was hit again.
"It's Voyager!" Torres said.
"Why don't they just beam us out?" Paris asked as he was knocked into the wall.
"Something must be interfering," Torres answered as she was tossed to the floor.
Paris tapped his comm badge, "Paris to Voyager." All he recieved was static, "What ever it is it's interferring with communications as well."
Another hit threw him to the floor, banging his chin against the stone. He fought back the cry of pain as he got to his knees. He decided not to get to his feet, knowing that he would only get tossed off them again.
He crawled over to the far right-hand wall, but was suddenly thrown into it as the ship was hit once again. He hit the wall with his right shoulder. He cried out in anger more than pain.
"B'Elanna," he shouted, "are you all right?"
"Yes," Torres answered, "I'll just have bruises everywhere tomorrow."
Paris smiled, "I'll have several myself."

"Their shields are at twenty percent," Tuvok said.
Only a couple more shots, Janeway thought. She said outloud, "Keep firing!"
"They're retreating," Kim said.
The dark ship was retreating and quickly. Janeway was not about to let it get away.
"Fire," she commanded.
The red-orange line shot out toward the ship, but it missed.
"They're gone."
"Follow them," Janeway glared at the view screen.

"They stopped firing," Paris said. He then tapped his comm badge, and tried to contact the ship. Again, he recieved static.
"Forget it, Tom. There's too much interferance, and the aliens probably escaped Voyager."
Torres heard Paris grumble. She then heard the sound of the heavy door opening. She tensed, knowing that the sound was of Paris' room being entered.
"Tom," she tried to warn.
"I know," he whispered, "Looks like I get to put my plan into motion."
Paris didn't answer when Torres warned him to becareful. He stared at the glowing eyes, but made sure that he didn't completely focus on them. He could barely see the shadows of huge weapons being held close to the chests of the creatures. He had to be quick in getting his hands on one of those weapons. He wanted them to be caught off guard, so he had to attack now.
Paris lept at the closest alien, and grabbed hold of the weapon. He jerked it out of the creature's hands then swung it at the alien's face. He heard it fall to the ground. He turned just in time to duck out of the way of the second alien's fire. He swung his weapon at the creature, but missed.
The shadow fired again, and nearly hit Paris had he not jumped out of the way. He landed at the creature's feet, and took the oppertunity to trip the alien. It fell to the floor, and Paris picked up its weapon and ran out the door.
He slowly crept along the wall until he came to another door. He knocked on it and called Torres.
"Tom?"
"Who else would it be?"
"Shut up and open the door," Torres growled.
Paris felt for a way to open the door. He came across a panel, and he quickly started to punch buttons. After a moment, the door opened, and Torres ran out.
"Now where to?" She asked, staring down the dark corridor.
"The only way we can go," Paris answered, "I brought something for you."
He handed her the other weapon, then headed down the tunnel. Torres followed closely behind him.
The two finally came to the door that led to the lab. Paris found another panel, and began to push buttons. After several minutes, the door hissed open.
"I'd give anything for some light," Torres growled.
"That makes two of us," Paris said as he cautiously entered the lab. Memories of being in here came flooding back. His vision saw only the glowing green eyes. He fought back the instinct to fire at the illusions, and kept going blindly into the darkness.
He bumbed into the metal slab, and more memories came to his vision. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, but the images remained.
"Try to find a door out of here," Paris said, wanting out of the lab as quickly as possible.
Torres picked her way through the darkness until she found a wall. She placed her left hand on the wall, and made her way forward. She came across a corner that turned toward the right. She followed this wall for a short way when she found a door.
"I found a door," she called. She didn't wait for an answer. She felt for a control panel, found it, and pushed buttons until it opened.
Two pair of glowing eyes stood on the other side of the door. The eyes burned into her soul, but she was not frightened. She shouted a warning to Paris before she jabbed her weapon into the first alien's stomach. She then swung the weapon upward, and caught the creature's chin. The alien's head jerked back upward.
Before she could get in another blow, a yellow ray of light shot passed her, and hit the other alien between the eyes. She spun around, and Paris' shadow. He was aiming the weapon again, and Torres lept out of the way as another beam of light connected with the first alien. She heard a dull thud as it fell.
"Nice shooting, Tom," Torres said, "In the dark even."
"Thanks," Paris answered as he walked toward the sound of Torres' voice, "Let's find the bridge to this ship."
They went into the room, and the door shut behind them. They spun around, then a voice came to their ears. They didn't understand it at first, but after a moment, their translators kicked in.
"State your destination," the voice said again.
"It's a lift," Torres said. Then she asked, "Where is the main control room?"
"Level three," the voice answered.
"Level three then."
They then felt themsevles being lifted upward. Torres griped her weapon tightly, and took a deep breath. She knew they were going to be fighting their way to the main control room. She was going to make these creatures pay dearly for what they did to her and Paris.
The lift stopped and the door opened. Paris cautiously stepped out of the lift first holding the weapon in front of him. When he saw no sign of the creatures, he told Torres to follow him.
"Stay close," he whispered.
"No problem," Torres said, "I'd tie myself to you if I had some rope."
"Don't tease me, B'Elanna," Paris said, smiling.
"Shut up, and keep your eyes open for the aliens. They should know now that we have escaped, and are looking for us."
"They'll find us a lot faster if we keep talking."
The two became silent as they continued down the long corridor. Torres was checking the walls to see if there were any doors along the way. She finally found one on her right. She called quietly to Paris as she felt for a control panel. She punched buttons when she found it, and the door hissed open.
Torres cautiously went inside followed by Paris. There were no glowing eyes in this room, but the two did not relax. They explored the room with their senses of touch and hearing, but they learned nothing.
"This is one of thier quarters," Paris announced after a moment, "There's nothing here. Let's go."
The two left the room, and continued down the tunnel. Paris looked back to see if they were being followed, but the corridor was empty.
"They're taking their sweet time finding us," he whispered.
"Good," was Torres' answer.

Continue to Chapter Eight
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