DESECRATION Chapter 2 (R)

DESECRATION

CHAPTER TWO

SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR SUMMARY AND OTHER DETAILS. STAR TREK AND ALL IT'S CHARACTERS ARE PROPERTY OF PARAMOUNT AND VIACOM. NO INFRINDGEMENT INTENDED.

Captain Janeway locked eyes with her second in command who was trying to drag his burnt body up off the deck. The words echoed through her head. "We are being boarded." Every captain's worst nightmare, and it was about to be live and in color. She searched Chakotay's dark eyes for… for what? An answer? Support? Solace? She found only her own terror reflecting back from his charred, normally serene eyes.

Commander Chakotay pulled himself shakily to his feet. The seared skin on his face and arms cracked and oozed a clear fluid as he tried to move. The pain was agonizing, coursing through his body with every breath. He leaned against the bulkhead and tried to gather his strength. He felt as if his limbs weighed 500 pounds each, pulling him down. He had to fight to stay upright. But he refused to give in to it. Kathryn needed him now more than ever, and he would protect her with his last breath.

"Security, Intruder Alert decks 9 and 10." Captain Janeway heard herself order, her command training taking over. She watched as Tuvok drew his phaser and headed for the turbolift.

"Janeway to Seven of Nine. Report to the bridge immediately."

"Acknowledged." Came the stoic Borg's reply.

Chakotay staggered across the bridge to the small weapons locker in the corridor behind the tactical station. He retrieved a phaser for each member of the bridge crew. "Arm yourselves." he ordered as he handed out the weapons. He moved torturously to Janeway's side. "Captain…" he said breathlessly, offering her a phaser.

She regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "Let's just hope they don't make it this far, Chakotay." she said, placing the phaser in its holster at her waist.

"Weapons fire reported on decks 9 and 10." Ensign Taylor reported in a voice bordering on panic.

"Seal off those decks." Chakotay barked.

"It's too late for that." Janeway said, tapping the controls on the console by her command chair. "They have control of everything below deck 7. That includes engineering."

Chakotay reflexively tapped his combadge. "Bridge to Engineering." There was no answer, not that he had expected one.

"Seven…" Janeway barked as the former drone exited the turbolift and took her station. "Quickly! Lock out the main computer. Use Borg encryption codes if you have to."

"Understood." Seven's slender fingers moved with high-speed efficiency over her console. She moved with a swiftness and grace that testified to her many years as a member of the Borg collective. She entered commands and calculated equations faster than any full human ever could, all the while making it look effortless, because for her it was. "The main computer has been secured, Captain." she reported emotionlessly.

At the same moment Janeway heard Seven's voice, she saw the flashing red letters appear on her screen. "ENCRYPTED". She allowed herself a sigh of relief. The aliens couldn't take over the ship's vital systems from the terminals in engineering with the main computer locked out. Now, if they could just keep them off the bridge…

"Ensign Taylor, shut down the turbolift." she ordered with a steady voice and a confidence she didn't feel. She knew they were in trouble this time, and would probably not prevail. But she'd be damned if she were going out without a fight.

"Captain, it's too late…" shouted Ensign Taylor from the ops station. That was all she managed to say before the turbolift doors opened, and all hell broke loose.

Janeway whirled around just in time to see more Variquians than she could count storming onto the bridge. They carried large weapons, similar to phaser rifles, and began shooting indiscriminately. It seemed like they were coming from every direction! Chakotay moved protectively in front of her, shielding her from the erupting weapons fire with his own body.

Tom Paris sprang to his feet and took out two of the intruders with his first two shots. But that's where his luck ran out. A huge alien, at least a meter taller than he was, seized him from behind and slammed him into the bulkhead. He was unable to stifle the moan that tore from his throat as the breath was knocked from his lungs for the second time that day. Before he could recover from the blow, the alien unleashed a well-aimed, brutal kick into Tom's abdomen and sent him crashing to the deck in agony.

B'Elanna Torres took cover in the corner of her engineering station and began picking off the bad guys one by one. She knew that they would overwhelm the Starfleet crew. There were just too many of them. It was only a matter of time. But she intended to kill every single one of them she could before she was taken out of the fight. She would die in battle, with honor, and take every last Dracula-wannabe, scumbag alien with her that she could aim her phaser at.

Chakotay thundered away at the vampish intruders, blasting as many of them as he could with his phaser despite his haze from the pain. But there were too many of them. They just kept coming. He noted that their weapons were obviously on a low setting. Crew members who had been hit by enemy fire were writhing around on the deck, clearly in terrible pain but still alive. They were apparently trying to keep the crew functional, but for what purpose?

Janeway cursed her useless broken arm as she tried to take aim around Chakotay. She fired her phaser at an approaching Variquian and missed. He returned the favor by firing an energy charge from his weapon. Chakotay stepped in front of Kathryn instinctively, raising his phaser to return fire. But he never got the chance. The energy charge struck him dead on in the chest. The force of the blast sent him soaring and his large body slammed into Kathryn. She staggered to keep her balance, her phaser crashing to the floor. Her functional arm moved protectively around Chakotay, but she simply could not hold his weight. She watched helplessly as he slumped in an unconscious heap to the floor.

Captain Janeway looked around her bridge. Her first officer lay unconscious at her feet. Tom Paris was in a heap on the deck. Harry Kim was injured and lying in sickbay. Tuvok was most likely being held wherever they were taking her crew. She knew that this was it. The battle they couldn't win. But she'd die before she'd hand over her ship!

"Computer, initiate self destruct sequence. Authorization Janeway pi one one zero."

"Unable to comply." droned the emotionless female voice.

"Explain." Janeway demanded.

"Damage to secondary command processors."

The Captain felt the blood drain from her face. She stood motionless as the battle raged around her. Destroying the ship was her last resort to keep Federation technology from falling into enemy hands. It was an order every captain prayed they would never have to give. And now, at a time when she had no other reprieve, it was not an option. She and her crew were now at the mercy of this hostile species. And there wasn't a damn thing she could do to save them.

The sound of Seven's warning call snapped Janeway out of her daze. "Ensign Taylor, get down."

Seven moved forward to intercept a Variquian about to attack the young ensign from behind. She got off one shot, hitting the alien and knocking him to the ground. She adjusted her aim to fire on the next one, but wasn't fast enough. The energy blast struck her in the face and her ocular implant sizzled and crackled as it overloaded. Seven fell to the ground, her surroundings spinning around her. No longer strong enough to fight it, she succumbed to the darkness that enveloped her.

Torres sprang from her station and moved in beside Janeway, aiming her phaser at Seven's attacker. Janeway seized her wrist, stilling her motion. "Hold your fire." the captain ordered.

High Commander Kirov suddenly emerged from behind two Variquian soldiers. He was even more demonic in person than he was on the view screen. Janeway felt her breath catch in her throat. "Wise decision, Captain." he sneered. He walked a circle around her, his cat-like eyes moving up and down her body. He paced before her, cagey like a panther, his eyes never leaving her. He was as predatory as any alien being she had ever encountered. "Now order them to drop their weapons."

Janeway nodded to her crew. "Do it." They complied instantly. She felt defeat wash over her as she heard the phasers drop to the deck.

"Very good." Kirov snarled, stepping closer to her. He slowly ran a clawed finger along Kathryn's cheek and across her pursed lips. She held his gaze and didn't so much as flinch. "Obedient, as a female should be. This doesn't have to be the end of your existence, Captain. You can make it much less painful for your crew. Give me access to your computer, and I'll allow them to live."

"I can't do that." Janeway said hatefully. "You've injured the only member of my crew with access to the encryption codes."

Kirov regarded her carefully. "Subcommander Jalek!" he barked. Immediately, a tall Variquian with hair and eyes the color of dried blood stepped forward. Kirov continued without taking his eyes off of Janeway. "It would seem that our brave new friend doesn't understand the power of our weapons. She has no concept of the pain and agony we can inflict with the touch of a button." His eyes traveled the bridge, searching the faces of the few crew members who remained standing. His gaze fixed on Ensign Taylor. He nodded in her direction. "Show her." He rasped.

"No!" Janeway chocked, but it was too late.

Jalek aimed his weapon and fired almost point blank into Ensign Taylor's chest. The young woman's eyes widened in terror as the energy beam ripped through her body, searing her muscles and boiling her fluids. A howl escaped her lips as she fell to the ground, writhing in absolute agony. It took an unbearable ten seconds for her organs to liquefy and death to take her from her pain. Her body jerked and convulsed, and then finally lay still as the life drained from her.

Captain Janeway watched in horror as the 23 year old woman suffered and died in vain. She fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She glowered at Kirov. "Killing my crew will not win you my loyalty or my obedience!"

Anger flashed in Kirov's violet eyes. He drew his hand weapon and pressed it to Janeway's forehead. "You don't seem to understand that you're no longer in command. You're willful, arrogant. You need to be humbled, woman. It will be a pleasure to break a spirit as tenacious as yours."

It took every ounce of self-discipline Janeway had to resist her desire to step back, to move away so that the cold metal of the weapon no longer pressed cruelly on her skin. She sensed Torres flinching beside her, probably aching to snap the alien's neck and protect her captain. Janeway put her hand up to stop her. "No. Stand down." she ordered. She had to find a way to buy some time without any more bloodshed. She pulled her shoulders back and glared defiantly at him. She felt completely vulnerable, as though she stood nude before him, but she was determined not to show it.

"Release the computer, or your crew will watch you die!" he roared.

"Kill me, and you lose any hope of ever obtaining those codes! Is that what you want?" she fired back. She motioned to Seven lying unconscious on the deck. "That woman is a member of my crew. We liberated her from the Borg." The look of fear that flashed across Kirov's face told Janeway that he knew exactly who the Borg were. "She locked out the computer with Borg encryption codes. She is the only one who knows them. And I am the only one who may be able to break them without her assistance."

Kirov looked to Subcommander Jalek. "Is she dead?"

Jalek knelt down and felt her neck for a pulse. "No, sir. She is alive, but her pulse is weak."

Janeway returned her gaze to Kirov. "If she dies, it could take months to crack her codes. Allow the doctor to treat my wounded, and I'll work with you to decipher the decryption code."

Their eyes locked in hatred. They stood there, each waiting for the other to concede. The tension on the bridge was palpable. Janeway's face was stern, commanding. Her expression bore no witness to the turbulent emotions raging inside her; anger, fear, grief. She drew strength from some place deep inside her heart and willed herself to ignore the energy weapon held to her head, and Chakotay's possibly dead form that still lay motionless at her feet.

Kirov brought his fiendish face to her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin. "My men would enjoy the companionship of a rebellious, fiery woman like you. Though, I doubt you'd survive it." He slowly lowered his weapon. She continued to glare at him as he brought his hand up to caress her cheek. "Cooperate with me, and I'll protect you." His hand moved to clasp tightly around her small throat. "Betray me, and I'll hold you down for them myself." He hissed in a threatening whisper.

Kathryn remained still as his large hand squeezed her windpipe. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her struggle under his brute strength. She would bide her time until she found his weakness. Then she would find a way to get her ship back and save her crew. Or she'd die trying.

Kirov stared down at her. "Such a beautiful face. It would be a pity to have to blast it to shreds." He snarled, and then shoved Janeway roughly to the floor.

She landed flat on her tailbone, wincing as the pain radiated up her spine. She instinctively cradled her broken arm. It still oozed bright red blood onto her uniform.

She scrambled to her knees and crawled over to Chakotay, silently praying to the Gods he held such belief in that he was still alive. She struggled to roll his shoulders onto her lap with her left arm. The sight of his charred flesh and blood streaked face brought a flood of tears to her eyes. "Chakotay…" she choked as the tears escaped her control and slid down her cheeks. She brought her hand to his neck, searching for a pulse in his carotid artery. His pulse was weak, but present.

"He's alive, but he needs medical attention." She glared at Kirov, waiting for him to respond. "He needs treatment, now!"

"Take her wounded crew to the medical bay." Kirov ordered. He paused to look at her bloody arm. "Take her to her office. She stays with me. The doctor can see to her injuries there."

B'Elanna moved quickly to Tom's side. She knelt down and took his hand in hers. She was relieved when his blue eyes opened and he smiled shakily at her. She stroked his tousled hair. "You okay, fly boy?"

"Oh, yeah! I'm great!" he groaned. "Nothing like being slammed into the bulkhead at warp speed to keep a guy on his toes."

"Stand up." A Variquian soldier towered over them, leering suggestively at Torres. "I said stand up!" he repeated when she didn't move. He seized her by the arm and jerked her roughly to her feet. She glared up at him, balling her hands into fists to contain her rage. His eyes traveled over her firm body, obviously liking what he saw. "Well you are a feisty one, full of anger. I could harness that heat in you and you would beg me for more!"

B'Elanna attempted to free herself from his grasp. "Let go of me, pahtk!" she spat. She brought her free arm up and pummeled her fist into his face.

The soldier only laughed condescendingly at her, seizing her assaulting arm and pulling her body tightly against his. "Such fire in you!"

Tom rose precariously to his feet, ignoring the pain. "Get your hands off her!" He struck out at the soldier with every ounce of strength he had, blasting him in the face. Blood spurted from the alien's nose and he let go of B'Elanna to swipe at the stream running down his chin. Tom pulled B'Elanna protectively into his arms.

The soldier drew his weapon and pressed it to the back of Paris's skull. "Foolish human!" he spat.

"Enough!" shouted Kirov. "Holster your weapon, Dirtiss. There will be time for fun later." He glared at the soldier. "Get the human to the medical bay. NOW!"

"Yes, High Commander." Humbled Dirtiss. He took Paris by the arm and led him to the turbolift.

Janeway cried out in pain as she was apprehended by both arms and hauled brutally to her feet. She knew she had to maintain her composure, but all she wanted at that moment was to stay by Chakotay's side. The physical separation from him was suddenly unbearable.

She was led to her ready room, which would now be her prison cell. She watched over her shoulder in horror as a Variquian soldier took hold of Chakotay's ankles and drug him inhumanely across the bridge to the turbolift. He was treated with no more regard or compassion than one would treat a bag of trash. Kathryn felt as if a fist had torn through her chest and ripped out her beating heart. She could do nothing to save her crew, to save Chakotay. An overwhelming wave of nausea crashed over her. Darkness washed in from the corners of her eyes to obscure her vision. She felt her knees turn to jelly. The sensation of the soldier's cruel, powerful arms scooping her up as if she weighed nothing was the last thing she was aware of before she lost consciousness.

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