Chapter Text
Prologue - Stardate: 51771.4
“Harry. Status?” Chakotay snaps at the ensign without looking away from the viewscreen.
“The port nacelle is damaged and we’re leaking plasma. Warp core still stable, though”
Chakotay barely manages a nod of acknowledgement, his eyes still glued to the viewscreen
“Tuvok?”
“Shields are holding at 72%. But we are still being pursued”
“Damnit” Chakotay swears under his breath.
“We’re still too far away from the planet to penetrate their shields and do a thorough sensor sweep” Harry pips up from behind his station
Chakotay tries his best to focus on the mission, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t get the bitter thought out of his head:
Kathryn would know what to do right now
“Then we’ll need to get a little closer” Voyager’s first officer grumbles after a second of deliberation
Tuvok’s voice grates his ears, even though it's the same monotone baritone as always
“If we continue our course to their planet, they’ll likely get even more hostile.”
“And we’ll probably run right into their reinforcements” Tom Paris throws in, sitting ramrod straight at the comm, while trying to evade the fighters already pursuing them.
What would Kathryn do?
Chakotay does not have to think long
“Keep trying to hail them, maybe there still is a chance to solve this diplomatically after all. Tom, stay on course for the planet’s surface, keep up the evasive pattern. Harry, as soon as we're through their shields try to get a transporter lock on the Captain's biosignature”
“Already on it, Sir”
Chakotay looks back at the brown-grayish orb on the viewscreen.
He’d known it was a mistake; he’d felt it in his gut. Why hadn’t he tried to stop her before?
He swallows and prays they'd get to her before it was too late
“We’re not leaving until our captain is back on board” his voice sounds a lot more assured than he feels and he's grateful for that.
Hold on, Kathryn, we’re on our way
It hurt.
Everything hurt.
It was the only thing she could focus on - the pain.
She couldn’t remember how long she’d been in this room or even where she was. All she knew was what she could feel - like someone had thrown her into a raging fire.
Kathryn forced herself to take a shallow breath and a sharp pain shot through her torso. The logical part of her - the scientist inside her - concluded at least one broken rib, probably more.
She swallowed even though her throat was dry as sandpaper. Still she could taste the metallic tang of blood; or maybe she could smell it in the air, she wasn’t sure.
Kathryn was vaguely aware of her arms being pulled away from her body at an angle, the shackles around her wrists digging into her skin. She had lost the ability to hold her upper body upright a while ago, her own weight adding to the strain on her limbs and shoulders.
She knew she was kneeling on the floor- though her knees stopped throbbing and mercifully had gone numb - and the feeling of unyielding ground below her was the only thing tethering her to reality.
Suddenly she heard footsteps.
Kathryn tried to make out how many pairs of feet were coming her way, even though the knowledge wouldn’t make a difference. In her current condition, she wouldn’t even be able to fight one of them, even if she wasn’t chained up.
The footsteps echoed in her head over and over, making it impossible for her to count them.
Then she heard the buzzing sound of a forcefield being switched off and a moment later she was aware of another presence in her cell.
She contemplated lifting her head, but decided to preserve her strength and channel it into breathing instead.
“Is she aware?” a dark, frighteningly human sounding voice sounded.
She knew that voice and bile rose in her throat.
“She wasn’t a few hours ago” another voice answered.
“Then by all mean, check”
A pair of perfectly shined dark boots came into her peripheral vision and a few moments later her head was roughly yanked upward by her hair.
Kathryn heard a raspy whimper sound off the walls and realized it had come from her.
Her vision was blurry and a red aura surrounded her field of vision, both of which made her feel sick. She must have a concussion as well, she thought dejectedly.
Then the other alien, the one in charge, stepped closer to her until his face was only inches from hers.
He brought a gloved finger to her bruised cheek in a perverse caress.
She wanted to turn her head away, but the iron fist gripping her hair prevented her from moving.
“She’s not gonna be able to withstand us for long now.” he said to his subordinate, or maybe to himself.
“At this rate” the voice behind her said, “she won’t be alive much longer either”
Her tormentor gripped her chin with his hand, his nails digging into her skin even through the leather of his gloves.
“Did you hear that? Either you start talking or you’ll die”