B’Elanna clung to Tom’s arm, the bile rising in her throat at the ominous words. “What do you mean?”

“The inhabitants of this planet, the Sidiors, have kept her secluded since they rounded us up.” Tom shook his head, steering away from his startling remark earlier. “After forcing Voyager from orbit, and almost crashing the ship in the process, they divided us up according to rank. It didn’t take them long to figure out. They’ve segregated senior crew members from the rest of the crew, took away our uniforms, and comm badges. They’re holding the captain in isolation, or at least that’s what we hope.”

“Are you trying to say you think the captain is dead?” B’Elanna looked at him, stunned by the words Tom had just uttered in pain. 

“I’m trying to say we don’t know.” Tom’s jaws worked as he clenched his teeth. “We’ve tried to persuade them to bring her back to the senior officer’s barracks, but to no avail. They marched her off somewhere, and we haven’t seen her since.” He cleared his voice before continuing. “We managed to convince them that Seven would not survive long without access to a regeneration alcove. They seemed to take a special interest in her, so they obliged. We’ve seen them escort her back and forth between the leader’s house and Voyager, every other day.”

“Voyager’s close by?”

“She’s still here, on the other side of the compound. We feared they’d gut her of her technology, but it seems they’re waiting for something … or someone.” Chakotay leaned forward on his chair. “The last few days, we’ve seen more activity and more fighters present, than before. Something’s up.”

B’Elanna blinked repeatedly, her mind whirling. “What about the crew?” she asked. “You said they separated the lower ranks from the senior crew members.”

“Yes. Divide and conquer.” Tuvok’s voice was matter of fact, but B’Elanna thought she could detect a tone of weariness. “This is no doubt the logic used behind removing the captain from among us. I however am of the belief that she is alive. Do not underestimate our commander.”

“I hate to be the pessimist, but isn’t that a bit unrealistic?” Paris asked.

“Yes. Divide and conquer.” Tuvok’s voice was matter of fact. "Perhaps, but the captain has proven to be quite resourceful. It would be illogical to count her out as a factor until will know her true disposition,” B’Elanna listened quietly trying to absorb all that Tom and Tuvok were saying. More than anything, Voyager’s engineer wanted to believe in her captain’s knack for getting out of harm’s way no matter how grim the circumstances were, but this? Shuddering, she pressed closer to Tom. “So what is this place? A military compound?”

More than anything, Voyager’s engineer wanted to believe in her captain’s knack for getting out of harm’s way no matter how grim the circumstances were, but this. Shuddering, she pressed closer to Tom. “So what is this place? A military compound?”

“Yes, I think that’s a good description, although the fighters act more like thugs. I have a feeling they are either mercenaries, in this for profit, or their society has broken down, and it’s every man, or woman, for themselves.” Chakotay shrugged.

“What happened to me?” B’Elanna whispered, suddenly afraid what she might hear.

Tom paled exchanging a quick glance with the other men. “We’re not exactly sure, honey. You were missing for more than a week. At first we thought they’d taken you to some infirmary, or perhaps to where they took the captain … but suddenly, two of them came carrying you on a stretcher. You were unconscious.” He placed soft kisses along the ridges on her forehead. “I was going nuts, honey. I was ready to tear the place down.”

“That’s no exaggeration. We had planned how to raid the quarters, when you were returned to us, B’Elanna,” Chakotay concurred. “The plans are still valid, but we’ve had to delay them, since you and fourteen other members of our crew, were in serious condition.”

B’Elanna tried in vain to take all the information in. She was exhausted after being conscious throughout this informal briefing. Tom’s arms around her helped, but a thought kept nagging at her. “Does Seven know Janeway’s missing?”

“We don’t know,” replied Chakotay, his face darkening. “Our fear is for Seven’s immediate safety. They may have special plans for her, since she’s an ex-Borg. I don’t like the way the Sidior leader looks at her, like she’s a piece of meat.”

Alarmed, B’Elanna ignored her aching, weakened state, sitting up. “You’re not telling me he’s using her?”

“Shhh, darling, easy now.” Tom pulled her back onto his shoulder. “We have no way of knowing this. There’s no indication in Seven’s demeanour that this has happened.”

Yet? B’Elanna swallowed hard. She and Seven had butted heads on more occasions than she could keep track of, but lately, they’ve embarked on a promising friendship. When Seven and Janeway became a couple, B’Elanna had doubted the two women’s future, but then changed her mind. The overwhelming passion in Janeway’s eyes when she regarded the younger woman spoke volumes. Seven’s feelings were just as obvious, since the former drone saw no reason to hide how she felt for her captain.

“Perhaps she doesn’t care what happens to her, if she thinks, or knows, Janeway’s dead?” B’Elanna whispered.

“Seven loves Kathryn,” Chakotay allowed. “She also loves Naomi Wildman, Neelix, and the Doctor. She cares for the entire crew. Don’t sell her short. She’d never give up on any of us. Just think of the many times she’s been prepared to sacrifice her life for Voyager.”

“That’s just it. Perhaps that’s exactly what she’s doing.” Another thought hit the Klingon-Human hybrid. “What about Harry?” She looked up at Tom, her blood turning to ice in her veins at his pained expression. “What about Harry?” she insisted.

Tom sounded hollow, his voice without intonation. “Harry’s dying. We bring the Doctor online once a day, like we told you, and he spends about twenty minutes of his allotted time with Harry.”

“Where is he? You have to take me to him!” B’Elanna’s stomach lurched at the thought of the young ensign, seasoned beyond his years when Voyager was tossed into uncharted space. Harry Kim, trusting, homesick for Earth, and sometimes annoyingly boyish … Why does he always have to take the fall?

“He’s in the next room. Neelix is tending to him as if he was his son, between preparing meals. Harry’s receiving the best care possible under the circumstance.” Chakotay patted B’Elanna’s hand. “We’ll take you to him later, when you’re stronger.”

Tears overflowed and B’Elanna hid her face against Tom’s neck, as sobs shook her thin frame. She could hardly fathom it all. The captain was missing, they held Seven in seclusion, Harry was dying, and they were all at the mercy of a thug race in an alien world. Please, wake me up, Tom. Tears overflowed and B’Elanna hid her face against

Janeway grabbed a weapon’s harness from the cabinet, attaching several shock-grenades, plasma cylinders, and ammunition for the disruptor cannon. Reaching for the heavy weapon, she pulled it over her shoulder, displeased when her knees buckled under its weight. She was not in shape after starving in the jungle. On occasion, she had come across plants her tricorder deemed as edible, but not until she ran into the band of rebels, had she eaten anything substantial.

The leader of the rebels, a tall, dark woman named Kingas, had originally kept her chained to a pole. Janeway had almost given up then. Exhausted, hungry, and frozen, she had glared at the proud jungle warrior in front of her.
.

Seven of Nine, late of the Borg Collective, regarded the man in front of her with indifferent eyes. She despised him and her deep frustration made it difficult to maintain an unconcerned front. She knew if she gave into him, if she surrendered to him, or to her fear, she would lose.

“Time again for your nap? How was your last one? Did you dream of me?” The man who had finally introduced himself as Masier, commander of this unit, winked at her.

“The regeneration cycle always proceeds within normal parameters.”

“No dreams? What a pity.” Masier rose and walked over to her. “Why don’t you sit? Relax, have a drink, act normal, damn it?”

“Define normal,” Seven suggested, keeping her Borg hand firmly clasped with her human hand, behind her back. Not a minute went by when she did not want to throttle this man. But, not until he disclosed the captain’s whereabouts.

Every time she was escorted onboard Voyager; she looked for her fiancée, scanning the tarmac with hungry eyes. Not once had she spotted the familiar auburn head. She had seen Commander Chakotay, Tom Paris, and Neelix. They seemed to share quarters. There were no signs of B’Elanna, Harry Kim, or the Doctor. Seven surmised the Doctor was hidden. She hoped the crew kept his mobile emitter in a safe place, and remembered to charge it regularly.

“All right, woman. You’re one stubborn bitch. Take her to the ship. In shackles!”

Steel hand and foot shackles were attached to her wrists and ankles, connected with a chain linking them together. Seven knew she could break them instantly with her Borg strength, but so far, there had been no need, or opportunity, to reveal this ability. Once she had the chance to escape, Seven knew it would be just the one; she would need the element of surprise her Borg strength provided.

Two men took her by the arms and dragged her down the small flight of stairs. Pushing her slightly ahead of them, they began the march towards Voyager. She could see the sleek ship’s outline against the sky, and for her it was like coming home to an abandoned house, comforting and intimidating at the same time.

She used her time in the Borg alcove well. They allowed her two hours every other day, and besides charging her Borg systems, she also downloaded and uploaded information about the planet, its inhabitants, and its military in particular.

Suddenly she saw Chakotay in the corner of her eye and the sight of Voyager’s first officer, dressed in worn, tattered clothes, made her throat clench. The door opened behind the tall man, and Tom Paris came outside, steadying a smaller figure next to him.

B’Elanna! Tears rose in Seven’s eyes. This was the first sign of hope for them in a long time. She had feared the engineer was dead, and here she was. Pale, unsteady, and obviously not well. But alive.

“Keep walking!” A soldier pushed her from behind, making her stumble in her shackles. She passed her crewmates, only fifty metres between them, and she could not say anything to them, in case this may be harmful. She thought of her latest attempt of rerouting data streams and reconfigurating her cortical implant. If everything went well during this upcoming regeneration cycle, she may be able to communicate with the ones left of the senior crew. It all depended on the Doctor’s mobile emitter.

Once onboard Voyager, it felt strange to see aliens working the controls, trying to obtain data from the ship. Janeway had locked the computer system with her personal seal, and Seven had strengthened it against any attempts to break the code, using a Borg encryption code, during her first regeneration cycle.

The aliens were frustrated; she could sense it as she walked by them on her way to Cargo Bay 2. They were not successful, and their exasperation pleased her. She stepped inside her regeneration alcove. It felt like she was returning home. Dreams? Of course, I dream while I regenerate, Masier. But not of you. Only of my Kathryn. My love.

The nodules automatically sought out the small sockets in her lower back and attached themselves. A buzz reverberated throughout her system as Seven succumbed to the technology keeping her alive. My Kathryn.

Janeway refused to let the large weapon’s weight slow her down. Too much was at stake and she needed to stay on schedule. Moving towards the door, she opened a small crack, glancing through it. Two guards stood with their backs against her, about twenty-five metres away. Checking her chronometer, Janeway knew she had to risk it.

Slipping outside, she moved along the path behind the fighters. She was grateful that the rubber sole of the shoes Kingas had offered her allowed soundless movements. She needed to get to the point where firing the disruptor cannon would do the most harm without being detected.

Two shadows silently moved into position. Quickly, they grabbed the unsuspecting men around the neck with one arm, placing stun guns against their temples with the other. Seconds later, they were being hauled into the jungle by Kingas’ men, stripped of their uniforms.

Janeway did not stop to look, but she knew only a minute from now, two new ‘mercenaries’ would emerge to replaced the unconscious ones. Kingas’ men. Moving along the outer perimeter, just inside the tarmac edge to avoid the plasma mines that had killed at least seven of Kingas’ unit over the last two year. “As long as the ground was paved, you were reasonably sure,” Kingas’ had told her. “Out in the dirt, you can dig and hide just about anything.”

Reaching the first barracks, Janeway made sure she was out of sight. She needed to get to the one where they kept the senior officers. Realising her presence would cause a commotion among a crew who thought their captain was dead, Janeway held onto the heavy weapon on her shoulder, sweat pouring down her face in the cool air. What am I going to find? There were so many faces she had not seen yet, while reconnoitred. Three times, Kingas, Donodas, and Janeway had dared approach the base, hiding in the low brushes, seven hundred metres away. Being there was madness, according to Kingas, but they needed to scout the place if they were to succeed.

Not once during these three one-hour surveillance opportunities had she seen Seven. Her eyes burned while looking in the binoculars Kingas provided, she saw other familiar faces, but not the woman she loved.

I’m on my way, Seven. You have to be here. I went for help and I’ve come back.
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