The red alert klaxons blared continuously as the intrepid class ship lurched. Janeway fought her way to the bridge, constantly tossed to the floor when inertial dampeners went offline. She slapped her comm badge before managing to get to her feet. “Janeway to the bridge! What’s our status, Mr Kim?”

“Something far stronger than our propulsion system is pulling us in, Captain. We have rerouted all our power to the main deflector. Shields are up; we’re pulling back as much as we dare. Any more and she’ll go to pieces.”

“I don’t care. Give it everything. We’re going to crash otherwise, Harry!”

Finally able to crawl up a ladder through a Jeffrey’s tube, Janeway made it onto the bridge. Harry Kim seemed relieved to hand the responsibility over to his captain and resumed his place at ops. Tom Paris was at the helm, but Tuvok and Chakotay were still missing.

“On screen. I want to see what‘s pulling us in.”

“There’s an unknown energy source with a magnetic pull like I have never encountered. The computer can’t make heads or tails of it, ma’am.” Harry held on to his console when Voyager lurched again. “The best way to describe it is that we’re caught in some sort of super-tractor beam.”

“Full thrusters, Mr Paris. Get us the hell away from here.” Janeway’s voice was a raw growl.

“The control’s are not responding, Captain. Somehow the warp core is partially off line.”

“Bridge to engineering. B’Elanna, we need more power.” Only static was heard and Janeway tried again. “Bridge to engineering. Respond.” She slammed a fist into the armrest of her chair. “Damn. Bridge to astrometrics. Seven, respond.” Still nothing. She extinguished the small flame of panic in her chest. Seven was all right. She had to be.

“We’ve lost internal communications, Captain.” Harry shouted.

“Turn off the damn klaxons.” Janeway’s mind reeled. The sudden silence allowed her to focus more. Our shields are intact, but that’s about it. We have no propulsion, we can’t get loose from this thing, and we are slowly but surely going down. We can’t even perform a controlled landing of the ship.

“All hands. Brace for impact. I repeat, brace for impact!”

“They can’t hear you, ma’am.” Harry said in a low voice.

“I know.” Janeway hoped the seasoned crew would somehow realise what was going on and take the necessary precautions. “Tom, try to pull us up and out of here. Give Voyager what she needs to do this.”

Tom punched in several commands. “The propulsion systems are down, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

Voyager suddenly seemed to slide to starboard, do a sharp turn, as if guided by an invisible deity, only to stand on its ‘nose’ and embark on a deadly trajectory towards the surface. Pressed into her chair, under the onslaught of more G’s than she dare to imagine, Janeway closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain. She’s going to burn up when we hit the atmosphere layer. We’ll incinerate. “Lower the struts, Tom. If there’s a chance for us to walk away from this, I’m going to take it.”

“Struts deployed, Captain.”

Voyager seemed unstoppable, but then the invisible hand levelled the ship out, let it descend toward the surface at a more reasonable speed. After a while, Janeway punched in commands to get an external view. Not having realised how close to the ground they were, she gasped at how Voyager almost touched the treetops, speeding perhaps fifty metres above ground. We’re crashing. There’s no way we can land her like this.

Now the ship was breaking off small trees as it lost more altitude. Miraculously a wide open area came into view just as the ship touched down, slid across what looked like a landing area and came to a screeching halt, still erect on its struts.

Janeway looked up at the enormous man in front of her. Dressed in such high-tech gear that he vaguely resembled a Borg drone, the way he spoke made it abundantly clear he was not. “Get on your feet, woman. Move!”

Prodding her back with his weapon, the soldier—she could only assume he was a soldier—gathered the bridge crew, moving them through Voyager’s corridors. More crewmembers were joining them, treated in the same callous manner by the men and women who had boarded Voyager.

The crew had quickly resumed their battle stations, arming themselves with rifles and phasers, but to no avail. The body armour these soldiers wore, absorbed even phasers set to kill. Only a direct hit in the face seemed to stop them.

Janeway looked up as they passed a turbo lift. The doors opened and an alien soldier pushed three crewmembers outside, one of them being Seven.

“Seven,” Janeway mouthed, careful not to show the enemy who among the crew mattered most to her. She noticed Seven’s furtive glance and carefully shook her head. Pretend I’m just your captain, sweetheart. Keep walking.

Flashbacks from when the Kazons had stranded them on a planet, taking off with Voyager, came and went. They had survived that, and they would live through this. Straightening her aching back, Janeway walked with the others, leaving the ship.

Outside the sun was setting and it was quickly getting colder. A man dressed slightly different than the rest of the boarding party let his bright eyes scan the Voyager crew. “Are these all?” he thundered.

“Sir, yes, sir. We had to render a few of them harmless. Just because they didn’t see reason, Commander.”

Harmless? Oh, my God, who’ve you killed? Bastards! Janeway willed her face to stay indifferent, but she could hear younger crewmembers deep intake of breath as the universal translator made it clear what the inhabitants of this godforsaken place were saying.

“How many?” the leader asked.

“Six. One of them put up a long, good fight.” The solider making the remark sounded pleased. “I had to kill him. The others are only wounded.”

Stealthily looking around, Janeway’s eyes met Tom’s. The pilot’s eyes were filled with anxiety as they scanned the crewmembers closest to them.

“B’Elanna,” he whispered. “I can’t see her!”

Her heart twitching with pain, Janeway returned her focus on the leader.

“Who’s your captain?” he growled. “I don’t have time for games. If your captain doesn’t step forward, I’ll just shoot you one at a time and sooner or later I’ll get it right.”

“I’m the captain.” Two voices apart from her own were heard. Glancing to her left, Janeway saw Chakotay taking a step forward, just like she had. To her right, the Doctor did the same thing. He’s wearing his mobile emitter. Damn, what are they doing?

“I’m the captain,” Janeway repeated, taking one more step. “We came in peace, responding to an emergency hail. Why are you treating us this way? You have no right to attack us.”

“Oh,” the leader said, his eyes glittering. “You think this is an attack? Nothing could be further from the truth. This is not an attack. Think of it as … as …” He snapped his fingers while pondering the term he was after. “Yeah, that’s right. Think of it as harvesting.”

“Am I to assume either my ship, or my crew, is the ‘crop’?” Janeway hissed.

“You’re catching on.” Snapping his fingers again, the leader turned to a woman standing close to him. “Round them up. Take’em to the barracks. Put the wounded in one of the rooms and let their mates tend to them. We might get something for’em yet.”

“What do you mean? What are you plans for us?” Janeway demanded to know.

As if the man realised for the first time, this captain would not go quietly, he walked close to her, his breath gushing over her face as his large, bulky frame hovered above her. “You’re my harvest. It’s been a pretty measly crop, but some of you don’t’ look to bad, yourself included. It’s a pity I can’t allow you to go where the rest of’em are going. You’d bring a neat sum with that hair and your fiery temper.” He looked up, scanning the crew filing before him. “And her.” He lit up. “Now, she’s going to come in very handy. In fact, you can say a woman like that, can save a man.” Rubbing his gloved hands, the nameless leader directed all his attention toward Seven of Nine. “Hey, you.” He pointed at the soldier closest to the ex-Borg. “Bring her to the Big House. We have to make sure she’s unharmed.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Janeway fought to keep the dread out of her voice. Seven passed them, her blue eyes locked on Janeway’s.

“She’s going to keep us all out of trouble.” The alien laughed; a hissing sound deep from his throat.

Unable to see his face behind the face shield, Janeway knew she had to at least try. Throwing herself forward, she kicked the soldier closest to her just beneath his knee. He screamed out in pain, or perhaps surprise, and almost toppled over. Janeway reached for Seven, who pulled the captain with her, back towards the crew.

“Kathryn! Do not try to rescue me like this. This is Species 888. They are a ruthless people, always at war with each other. They are strong believers in their own mythology and they will not hesitate to kill you for the smallest of transgressions.”

“Get her!”

Strong arms pulled at the ex-Borg who complied. “I am coming willingly. Spare the crew and the captain. I will not fight you.”

“You better not.”

Janeway watched as two soldiers removed Seven from the rest of them. Blinking back tears of fear and fury, she did not see the leader approach. Only when a fierce blow to the back of her head hit, did she try to shield herself.

“Stupid woman. You will never get a chance to disobey me again.” He pulled her by the collar, away from the crew and into a small shed further down a gravel path. Slamming the door, he locked her inside.

Janeway wrapped both arms around herself. There were no windows and the darkness heightened her sense of smell. A strange odour plagued her nose and she did not want to think of its origin.

The thin walls provided no protection from the cold. As the hours went by and her body became numb from hypothermia and from fear what these people were doing with Seven and her crew, she suddenly sat up, staring at the far wall.

Thin walls. Perhaps not thin enough to keep her in.