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Desecration


Chapter Three



"Calm yourself, Mr. Neelix."  Tuvok took the rotund man by his shoulders.  "Allowing your fears to control you will only serve to further cloud your mind."


"I'm… I'm trying, Mr. Vulcan." stammered Neelix.  "But where is everyone?  I heard the guards say that they brought the crew here to the cargo bay.  But the bridge crew is missing.  Commander Chakotay, B'Elanna and Tom… and the captain!  Where is the captain?"


"I do not have the answers to your questions." Tuvok said flatly.


"What if they've harmed her, or worse?" he babbled, panic flashing in his yellow eyes.  "She could be dead!"


"We do not have enough information to dismiss that possibility." Tuvok said emotionlessly.  "However, Captain Janeway is a resourceful leader and is well trained in self-defense and diplomacy.  It is likely she is still alive and is being sequestered by the alien leader."  He fixed his dark eyes on Neelix.  "We must stay calm in order to help her.  Captain Janeway will not benefit from a panicked and hysterical crew."


"I understand." said Neelix, taking deep breaths to calm himself.


"We must watch the aliens, learn their patterns, and discover their weaknesses.  We must bide our time until an escape attempt is possible.  It is the only logical course of action."


"This is one time that I envy your lack of emotions, Tuvok." Neelix said, patting Tuvok on the shoulder.


"Do not mistake composure and control for absence, Mr. Neelix." He corrected.  "The captain's safety is paramount.  She is a friend, and I am not immune to the difficulties that come with not knowing her condition or her whereabouts."


Neelix was instantly flooded with regret for his selfish behavior.  Of course he wasn't the only one frightened or upset.  This entire crew was loyal to Captain Janeway, and Tuvok had known her and served with her for years.  They must all be as concerned as he was.


"I'm sorry, Tuvok.  I guess I haven't been a very good morale officer.  For what it's worth, I know that the captain has great faith in you.  If anyone can help her, you will."


Tuvok nodded in response.  His appreciation for the offer of comfort, though subtle, was not lost on Neelix.


Neelix looked around the cargo bay at the group of people he had come to think of as his family.  They had been attacked, their home seized, and now they were crammed into a heavily guarded cargo bay that was never intended to house 135 humanoids.  If ever there was a time they needed their morale officer, this was it.  He began moving through the crowded cargo bay, offering a touch on the shoulder, a pat on the arm, and words of reassurance.


"Everything's going to be all right.  We've gotten out of far worse situations than this…"






"Commander, please!  You must lie still or I'll have to sedate you."  The doctor struggled with Chakotay to keep him on the biobed. 


"Kathryn…" he rasped.


"You're in sick bay.  You're injuries are severe, Commander.  You require immediate treatment."  The doctor waited several seconds, allowing his words to sink through Chakotay's thick skull.  "Please, lie still and let me help you.  I promise to tell you everything as soon as your condition has stabilized."


Chakotay locked eyes with the holodoctor, his rationale slowly returning along with the memory of how he was injured in the first place.  "The aliens, they stormed the bridge…"


The doctor skillfully eased Chakotay onto his back and began treating his burns with a dermal regenerator.  "The ship has been taken over by the Variquians, a rather hostile species I'm sorry to say.  They're holding most of the crew in cargo bay two with the exception of - I'm sorry, this may hurt a little - those who were injured in the battle.  They were brought here for treatment."


Chakotay tried to stifle a painful groan as the doctor began healing the energy blast burns on his chest.  The pain was terrible but the lack of control was unbearable.  How could he lie here quietly, knowing that the ship was in enemy hands?  He craned his neck and did a quick visual scan of sickbay.  He estimated there were at least ten Variquian soldiers standing guard.  They were large in stature and bearing huge energy rifles, just like the ones he'd seen on the ridge.


"I've managed to heal most of the burns to your face and arms.  Fortunately the alien weapons were on a low setting.  But you took a rather nasty blow to the head, Commander.  You have several microfractures in your cranium, and a severe concussion.  You will have to remain in sick bay for observation."


"And the rest of the crew?" he asked, painful explosions detonating in his head with every word.


"Ensign Kim had a minor concussion and a few lacerations, easily repaired.  Mr. Paris suffered a ruptured spleen, which I have successfully removed.  He will be fully recovered in a matter of hours.  That's the good news."  The doctor hesitated for several seconds, gauging Chakotay's comprehension and emotional state before continuing. 


"And the bad news?"


"I must inform you that Seven of Nine was seriously injured during the attack."  The doctor motioned to Seven's motionless form on the surgical bed.  She was deathly still, only the soft rise and fall of her chest with each assisted breath offered any evidence of life.  "Her ocular implant apparently took a direct hit from the alien's energy weapon, causing a power surge in her cortical array.  I performed surgery and was able to stabilize her condition.  In the hands of a lesser physician, she would most likely have died." He gloated in his characteristically egotistical manner.  "She is, however, in a coma."


Chakotay regarded the former drone with an expression of gentle sadness.  "Her prognosis?"


"Uncertain at this stage.  The next 24 hours will be critical."  The doctor gazed at Seven fondly.  "I'll do everything in my power to help her.  At this point she is stable.  She could wake up any minute, or not at all.  I just don't know."


The doctor gestured to the other biobeds.  "There were several crew members with minor injuries.  They will all recover, which is more than I can say for Ensign Taylor."


Chakotay winced visibly as the memory of the young woman, writhing in agony as she died, returned to his hazy mind.  It was a cruel, meaningless death.  He knew that Kathryn would blame herself for it.  She was always… wait a minute.  Kathryn, where was Kathryn?  They were together on the bridge, and now… now?  He couldn't remember how they'd been separated.


He seized the doctor's holographic arm just as he was about to step away from the biobed.  "The captain, where is she?"


The doctor's face seemed to darken at his mention of Captain Janeway.  He put a supportive hand on Chakotay's shoulder.  "She's being held prisoner in her ready room by the alien leader.  I'm afraid that's all we know."


"What?" he bellowed, shrugging the doctor's hands away and rising to a sitting position.  He ignored the hundreds of antimatter explosions that erupted in his head as he became vertical.  "I have to help her."


The doctor seized Chakotay by the shoulders as he tried to rise to his feet.  "Commander, you're in no condition to mount a rescue."  Chakotay struggled against him.  "I will sedate you if you don't lie down.  You'll be of no use to the captain if you storm out of sickbay and get shot down before you even make it to the turbolift."  He tightened his hold on Chakotay.  "Please, be reasonable."


Even in his altered mental state, Chakotay knew that the doctor was right.  He couldn't just burst onto the bridge and rescue her.  They needed a plan. 


"I suggest you remain lying down." The doctor said gruffly, pushing Chakotay onto his back.  He leaned in close to the commander, speaking softly in an effort to keep his voice out of the guard's range of hearing.  "If you give the guards reason to believe that you are recovered, it's likely that they'll take you to the cargo bay with the others.  At least in sickbay, you'll have access to some of the ship's systems.  That is, as soon as I figure out a way to do it unobserved."


The sickbay doors slid open, drawing their attention.  A tall, heavily armed Variquian stepped in, the doors hissing closed behind him.  Chakotay recognized the figure as Subcommander Jalek.  The man that murdered Ensign Taylor.  He immediately relaxed onto the bed, giving the illusion that he was too weak to do anything else.  He knew he had a better chance of helping Kathryn if he remained in sickbay.


Jalek stopped a few paces in front of the doctor.  He regarded Chakotay with a look of disgust.  "What is his condition?"


"He has a severe concussion, as well as skull fractures and second degree burns which are still in the process of healing.  He'll need to remain here for further testing." The doctor answered matter-of-factly.


"And the Borg?" he snarled.


"Her condition is far worse, I'm afraid.  Her ocular implant overloaded causing a power surge to her cortical array.  As a result, she has suffered neural shock."  A blank expression washed over Jalek's pale face.  It was obvious that he didn't understand a word the doctor was saying.  Irritation etched plainly on his holographic face, the doctor spelled it out.  "Your soldier shot her in the face.  She's in a coma.  I do not know if she will survive."


Jalek fixed his cold, emotionless eyes on Seven.  His expression was neutral, pitiless, as if he were looking at nothing more than piece of malfunctioning machinery.  There was not an ounce of compassion for this individual whose life may end due to the actions of his own people.  He nodded at two of the Variquian guards standing near the door. 


"Take them to the cargo bay with the rest of the humans." he commanded, gesturing to Paris and the others.


A raven-haired guard seized Torres by the arm and began herding the Starfleet group toward the door.  B'Elanna glowered at him.  "I know the way." She snapped, jerking her arm from his grasp.


Harry Kim gently took B'Elanna by the arm.  "Easy, Maquis.  They have the weapons, remember?"  She opened her mouth to retort, but stopped short when she saw the silent pleading in Harry's dark eyes.  There had been too much violence already, and this was hardly the time for an uprising.  She simply nodded at him and followed the guard out the door.


Jalek turned his predatory gaze back on the doctor.  "You will come with me to the bridge.  High Commander Kirov will allow you to treat your captain's injuries.  Bring whatever you need with you.  You will treat her there."


The doctor nodded and gathered a medical kit in his arms.  He was eager for the opportunity to assess the captain's condition, regardless of the circumstances.


Chakotay was unable to stifle the sigh of relief that rose in his throat.  Kathryn was alive, and the doctor would make sure she was cared for as much as possible.  Now he had to find a way to get her out of there.


The doctor flashed a concerned glance at Chakotay.  "I'll return soon, Commander.  In the meantime, please rest."  What he really meant was don't try anything foolish.


Chakotay nodded his understanding and tried to relax on the biobed.  He closed his eyes and attempted to block out the images of Kathryn in the hands of the cruel Variquian leader.  He struggled to keep his mind from wondering what horrible things could be happening to her at that very moment.







The pain seemed to travel, moving from one body part to another.  Hot, burning pain, searing as it journeyed from muscles to organs, and even seemingly into bones themselves.  She wanted to stay in this sanctuary of unconsciousness, to hold tight to sweet oblivion.  But something was pulling her toward alertness and she felt her consciousness responding, almost against her will.  Someone was speaking to her.


The voice was familiar, trustworthy.  She felt drawn to it despite her desire to stay entranced in sleep.  It offered comfort, solace from her pain.  It was smooth and gentle as it called to her.  "Captain?  Captain, can you hear me?"


Her eyes fluttered open, squinting against the bright lighting in the room.  "Computer, decrease illumination by 25%." ordered the voice.  She felt the slight sting of a hypospray on her neck, and then pain immediately began to dissipate. 


Captain Janeway looked up into the eyes of her Chief Medical Officer, concern deepening the creases on his face.  "Doctor?"


"Don't try to sit up, Captain." he said, placing a hand on her small shoulder to keep her in place.


With the pain easing, her memory returned almost instantly.  The images of the attack flashed through her mind.  She vaguely remembered being led toward her ready room.  Yes, she was on the sofa in her ready room.  "My crew?"


The doctor proceeded to scan her with the medical tricorder.  "They're being held in the cargo bay.  They're fine… for the time being anyway."


"What about Seven of Nine?  And Chakotay?  I saw them…"


"Captain, please.  You must remain calm.  I'll tell you everything I know, but first we need to see to your injuries."  The doctor tuned to face the guard at the door.


"I need to speak to your superior, immediately." The hologram demanded.


The Variquian sneered at him.  "You're hardly in any position to make demands.  I could snap your neck in an instant, human."


The doctor regarded him evenly.  "For your information, I am not human.  I'm a hologram.  I can't be maimed, mutilated, or tortured."  Then he added snidely, "Sorry to disappoint you."


As if on cue, the ready room doors hissed open and High Commander Kirov strode into the room.  He immediately turned his gaze on the doctor.  "Are you finished with her yet?"


"As a matter of fact, I'm not." he answered haughtily.  "The captain has a hairline fracture in her tail bone.  She also has an open compound fracture of the right humorous.  As you can see, the bone is protruding through the skin.  She has lost a dangerous amount of blood."  He waited for a reaction from Kirov, but the alien remained expressionless.  "Her arm will require surgical correction.  I cannot do that here in the ready room!"


Kirov glared at the doctor.  "Well then I suggest you get creative if you want her to survive, Doctor.  She's not leaving this room."


"Very well." He conceded.  "I'll need an assistant and some more equipment from sickbay."


"You have one hour, not a minute more."  Kirov snarled.


The doctor turned to leave and gather the equipment.  He paused at the door.  "I'll be back, Captain.  I promise."


"I know you will, Doctor." she answered weakly, offering him a slight smile.


Kirov looked at the small, broken form of the human captain lying on the sofa.  She was a beautiful woman, her blue eyes burning with stubborn defiance even in her weakened state.  And for just an instant, Kirov found himself feeling a tinge of… of what?  Was it regret, shame?  It suddenly seemed cowardly to inflict harm on one so small, so delicate.


Yet, she was as tenacious a leader as any he'd ever seen.  She was courageous despite her diminutive stature.  Her very presence commanded obedience from her crew.  It was obvious that they followed her every order without question.  He pushed the regret to the back of his mind.  She was a formidable opponent. He would be foolish to let her size and beauty cause him to underestimate her.


He slowly walked over and stood near the sofa, looking down at her.  She glared up at him, biting her lower lip to fight the pain as she pulled herself to a seated position.  He reached a hand out to stoke the soft, pale skin of her cheek.  Janeway flinched momentarily, but remained still as he touched her.


"Do you fear me, Captain?" he said quietly.


She met his eyes, her icy gaze boring into him.  "I fear many things, Kirov."


He regarded her quizzically.  "It surprises me to hear the mighty captain admit to weakness.  I thought yours to be a proud species.  Perhaps I was mistaken."


"On the contrary," Janeway contradicted, "Fear can be a great strength." Her voice was husky, carrying a deadly intonation as she spoke.  "It can fuel the fires of determination, be an engine of motivation."


"Or it can cripple you and make you submit to the source of your fear.  Don't you agree?"   He took hold of a stray lock of her auburn hair and rolled the silky strands between his fingers. 


The gesture surprised Kathryn. It was, by its very nature, almost tender, almost affectionate.  Yet it was menacing at the same time. 


"I suppose it's all in how you handle it." she responded calmly. "You can let fear dominate you, or you can control it, make it work for you."  She sharply seized his hand as he again moved to touch her cheek, defiance and hatred burning in her eyes.  "I have never been one to succumb easily to fear, or to the cowards who try to evoke it."


Anger flashed in Kirov's cat-like eyes.  His hand moved swiftly to her throat, squeezing until he could feel her trachea collapsing under the force.  Janeway clawed at his hands desperately with her one functional arm, but she was no match for his strength.


He watched pitilessly as her lips turned blue and her eyes became slightly unfocused.  As she was about to lose consciousness, he released her, shoving her roughly onto her back.


Kathryn reflexively gasped for breath, the pain exploding inside her skull as she filled her lungs with air.  She fought to control her rapid breathing, the temptation to hyperventilate warring with her logic of taking slow, deep breaths.


A sadistic smile crept across Kirov's fiendish face as he watched her struggle for oxygen.  "You've yet to know true fear, Captain.  But you will.  And when you do, you will beg me for mercy."


Kirov turned on his heel and headed out the door, nearly knocking over the doctor and Paris as they entered with the necessary medical equipment.  "One hour!" he barked.


Tom emptied the load he was carrying onto the floor and moved immediately to Janeway's side.  She was still gasping with her efforts to control her breathing.  Her blue tinged lips formed a weak smile at the sight of him.  "Captain, it's going to be okay." he soothed.


"Tom, you're all right." she whispered, reaching for him.  He took her hand in his, fighting back the tears that suddenly flooded his eyes at the sight of her.  Angry red welts spread across her neck, testifying to the cruel strangulation of moments ago.  Her normally immaculate uniform was blood stained and torn.  Her shining hair escaped from her professional ponytail and defiant tendrils curled around her ashen face.  She looked fragile, despite her attempts to the contrary.  He smiled bravely at her even as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces in his aching chest.


"Of course I'm all right, Captain.  You aren't getting rid of me that easy." He teased, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.  Tom exchanged worried glances with the doctor.


"We'd better get started." the doctor said softly.  He looked at his captain sadly.  "I'm not going to be able to sedate you, Captain.  You've lost a great deal of blood and I simply don't have adequate monitoring or resuscitation equipment here in the ready room."


"I understand."


"I'm going to give you a strong analgesic.  But you may still feel some… discomfort." He said, pressing a hypospray to her neck.


"I'll live with it." She groaned, biting her lip against the pain as Tom cut her uniform jacket away from her broken arm.


Kathryn tried with all her might not to cry out in pain as the doctor and Tom Paris treated her injuries and set the bone in her arm.  She knew it was almost as hard on them as it was on her, and didn't want to make it any more difficult for them.  She managed to keep the moans to a minimum, but she failed to stop the tears from escaping her eyes and trickling down her cheeks.  She rarely cried, but the pain was as intense as any she had ever suffered.


As he worked, the doctor kept his earlier promise and filled the captain in on the conditions of Chakotay and Seven of Nine.  She regarded the doctor with a raised eyebrow and said quietly, "If Seven begins to regain consciousness, they'll go to any length to obtain the encryption codes from her.  Is it possible in that instance for you to keep her sedated and keep up the appearance that she is comatose?"


The doctor glanced up from his ministrations and eyed the guard carefully.  He paid them no mind and sat with his feet perched arrogantly on Janeway's desk.  Fool.  He could paralyze him in an instant with a hypospray.  Too bad there were about 15 more like him just outside the door.


"I believe so, Captain." he almost whispered.  "But we'll have no way of knowing what lingering affects that action may have on her neural tissue."


Janeway locked eyes with the doctor, the seriousness of their situation evident on her face.  "If they gain control of this ship's systems, none of us will need to worry about our neural tissue, Doctor.  Do whatever you have to do to keep her unconscious."


"Understood."


As if he'd been standing by with a timer, Kirov suddenly burst into the room.  "Your hour is up.  Leave us, now!"


The doctor and Paris hesitated briefly, reluctant to leave their captain even though they knew they had no choice.


"GO!"


"I'll need to examine her again in a few hours to make sure the bone is healing correctly." said the doctor.  He had to make sure he was allowed to see her again.


Kirov stepped up to the doctor, his face just inches from his, and sneered.  "You will examine her if and when I allow it.  You do not dictate to me.  Now get out… and take all this equipment with you."


Janeway looked away as her officers exited the ready room, unwilling to let them see the desperation in her face.  She wanted to scream for them not to leave her.  Instead, she bit on her lower lip until it bled.


"You too, leave us." Kirov ordered the guard.  He rose to his feet and followed Paris and the doctor out the door.


Janeway turned to face her captor.  She swallowed hard, trying to push down the bile that had risen in her throat.  She refused to cower before him even as her fear threatened to overcome her.


Kirov paced before her, his hands clasped behind his back, his animalistic eyes roaming over her body.  "You're strength is impressive, Captain Janeway.  But this has gone on long enough.  I allowed your wounded crew members to be treated.  I even allowed your injuries to be taken care of.  But my kindness has limits."


A wicked smile spread across his face as he brought a folded length of rope out from behind his back.  He pulled Janeway to her feet, pulling both of her arms roughly behind her back.  She felt the rope bite into her wrists as he tied her hands together.  "What kind of games are we going to play now, Kirov?" she snapped hatefully.


In one swift motion, Kirov kicked her feet out from under her and slammed her onto her stomach on the floor.  She squirmed beneath him as he pressed his body against her back, nearly forcing the air from her lungs. 


He brought his mouth to her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin as he spoke in a raspy whisper.  "You're very beautiful, Captain.  I'm going to enjoy teaching you how to serve a man."


"I'll die before I'll ever serve you." She snarled.


A demonic laughter rolled off his purple lips.  "You'll long for death, yes.  But eventually you'll learn to appreciate me.  You see, I will eventually gain access to your ship's systems. I'll be praised as a hero when I bring this new technology to my government.  Not to mention the fortune I'll make selling your crew off as slaves.  They'll make excellent laborers in the mines of our moon.  But you, Captain, you will remain with me."  He seized her by the hair and pressed his lips her earlobe, nipping roughly at it as he spoke.  "I've a certain affinity for you, Janeway.  And from here on out, you belong to me."


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DESECRATION

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