Disclaimer: Paramount Pictures own all things Trek. I make no money from this story. All characters besides the STV senior staff, are mine. Do not archive or post anywhere else without my written permission. 

Betareaders: Thanks to Pol, Snowolf, Jay, Glynis and Saffron. Any mistakes lingering are purely my own!

Pairing: J/7

Rating: NC-17. Same gender love between adult, consenting women. 

Violence: Yes, some. It's an action story.

Format: Different fonts and background colour describe changes in past and present. I hope this will work out well in simple html. Let me know if it doesn't come out right. Thank you.

Summary: An unexpected attack destroys the most joyous moment, so far, in Janeway's and Seven's life. The consequences are devastating and the crew is now held hostage, fearing their captain is dead.

Chapter 8

“Get down!” Janeway pushed Neelix and Tom behind some crates next to the ramp.

Disruptor fire seared through the air, hitting Voyager’s hull and some of the crates stacked around her. Janeway crouched next to Neelix and squinted through the smoke to find Kingas and Mirish. The two Samarians had been right behind them.

“Over here, Captain,” Mirish called out, her voice impossibly cheery. “Watch out west of you. Masier’s men are on the move.”

Janeway glanced to her right. Three Sidiors ran towards Voyager’s ramp, their weapons raised. “Janeway to Torres. Has the computer singled out new targets?”

“Affirmative. Sensor’s detect two major ammunition storages.”

“Blast them.”

“Aye, Captain. Firing phasers.”

Two bolts of fire blazed over their heads towards their goal. “Hold on,” Janeway cried out and ducked together with Neelix and Tom.

The ground shook and flames, vaguely visible through the smoky air erupted in the distance. Janeway looked up, and saw two enormous clouds of smoke billowing toward the sky. She peered over the crates, seeing Masier’s men wobble as they tried to regain their balance. “Now,” she ordered and raised her weapon. She took aim, taking out the one to the left, while Tom and Kingas fired at the other two. The Sidiors fell to the ground and lay motionless.

“Let’s move out. Keep comm badges available when we run into the crew.”

They moved toward the burning barracks, in the direction Masier’s men took Seven. Shadows appeared in the smoke. Janeway raised her arm and kept her disruptor set on heavy stun. The first one to appear was Lt Chapman, who dragged two wounded crewmen under each arm. His face was pale, with deep lacerations across his cheek.

“Chapman,” Janeway called out, lowering her weapon.

He stared in disbelief, as his gazes roamed her dishevelled figure, and stopped at the Federation uniform jacket with command red. “Captain?” His voice was muted, probably from the smoke.

“Voyager’s secured for now. Can you get these two onboard? The Doctor is operational in sickbay.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chapman’s jaws worked spasmodically. “Hell, ma’am …”

Janeway knew all to well how he felt and gave him a reassuring nod. “You’re doing a good job. Get them to safety and keep bringing people onboard.” She shifted her eyes to Neelix. “You’re needed here. Stay and help Chapman organise a triage. Restore life support in the mess hall and dispose of the Sidior bodies. Post guards and whatever you do, don’t let any of Masier’s thugs over the ramp. Lt Torres is in charge until we return.”

“Aye, ma’am.” Neelix had already relieved Chapman of one of the crewmen. He handed the lieutenant a comm badge and then lifted up the semi-unconscious young woman. “Here we go, dear.” He nodded briskly toward Janeway and walked back to Voyager.

“All right, things are moving in the right direction,” Paris said. “Here are ten more of our people.”

The newcomers stared in shock at their captain, automatically accepting new comm badges and activating them. Janeway briefed them in a few words, handed them the rest of the comm badges to share, and then she kept walking, wanting to get to Seven as quickly as possible.

Almost surrounded by burning buildings, the smoke was becoming a problem. They had no way of knowing what particles they inhaled. “Check the air, Tom. I’m getting worried.”

Tom pulled out a tricorder and scanned the air. “Well, it’s nothing that’s good for you, but nothing that’ll give us any long term problem. We’re soon at the edge of the tarmac.”

They ran into several groups of crewmembers, but saw little of Masier’s gang when they made their way to the jungle. The sweet scent of the humid air among the dense undergrowth engulfed them and it was as if the smoke could not permeate it.

“This path leads to the Translunar Tunnel,” Kingas said. She gazed up at the sky. “The moons are almost aligned. It won’t be long now.”

“What won’t be long?” Tom asked. “And who are the Shantari?”

Kingas motioned for them to keep going and led the way along the narrow, but clear path through the jungle. “We know of them, but nobody has ever seen them. In the old days, the one Sacrificed, was well trained, well prepared, for this honour. They studied the teachings for years.”

“You mean this barbaric tradition is voluntary?”

“It was.” Kingas gave him a stern look over her shoulder. Janeway saw her pilot recoil. “Now, when the Sidiors’ have made a mockery of it all, it’s become just what you say … barbaric. Your crewmember is not there of her own choice. She knows nothing of what awaits her.” Kingas moved faster along the path, her weapon raised. “If you want to save her, we have to move faster.”

Janeway’s heart thundered as they ran, something in Kingas’s words bothering her, but she could not put her finger on it.

Suddenly something hissed past them and hit Mirish on her arm. Not even moaning, the younger of the Samariors ducked, pulling Tom with her. “Masier’s men,” she mumbled. “Watch out.”

Janeway crouched next to Kingas and placed her palm on the ground for support. With her disruptor ready to fire, she tried to make out where Masier’s goons were. A massive burst fire coming from across the path answered her question. She could barely make out four men among the trees.

“Keep running,” Mirish grunted. “I’ll cover you.”

“All right.” Janeway was not about to debate the young woman’s offer. She tugged at Tom and more or less dragged him along when Mirish started returning fire, a broad grin on her face. “You too, Kingas. Go!”

“I’m not leaving you.” Kingas fired her weapon repeatedly. “You’re coming with us.”

Janeway kept running along the path, Tom right behind her. Suddenly her foot caught in a long, winding root, which sent her tumbling. Automatically, she curled into a ball and covered her head with her hands. Her body didn’t stop until it hit a firm object. Janeway held her breath as she stared right at a worn pair of black boots.

With a painful twist of her neck, Janeway snapped her head up, raising her disruptor, ready to fire. The man hovering above her was tall and dark. The sun was behind him, his face lay in shadow. Before she could fire her weapon, he crouched down next to her. The man cupped her cheek and ran his thumb along a fresh scar. “So the girl was right,” a familiar voice said.

“Chakotay!” Tom’s voice interrupted them. “You showed up just in time. We need help over there.” He motioned with his chin towards where Mirish and Kingas still was returning fire.

“Help is already there,” Chakotay replied and helped Janeway to her feet. He gave her a firm hug, his tanned face darker than usual, almost making his facial tattoo invisible. “We ran into some rebels …”

“Hello, again, Captain,” a young voice said, showing up behind Chakotay.

“Anako,” Janeway smiled in relief. “I’m glad you’re all right.

“And as the commander said, I brought help.”

The firing down the path had diminished and now Janeway saw Kingas and Mirish approach them, followed by Dargas and two of his men. “The whole cavalry,” Janeway nodded. “And just in time.” She looked at Mirish’s bleeding arm. “Are you okay?”

“Just a scratch.” Mirish took the black bandana from her head, holding it out to her sister. “Tie this around my arm for now.”

Kingas complied wordlessly and Janeway knew they’d seen and dealt with much worse. “We located the entrance to a tunnel where we think they brought Seven,” Chakotay explained. “Four men stood on guard and we ran into trouble trying to take them out without weapons. If Dargas and Anako hadn’t shown up …” He shrugged and gave the man, similar to him in height, a nod. “We owe you.”

“It’s time to enter the Translunar Tunnel,” Kingas interrupted and checked the sky again. “Dargas, I understand if this is too painful for you. Mirish, Anako, and I will take them.”

“I’m coming too,” Dargas insisted, his voice dark with emotions. “I’ll place four men on guard. We don’t want any surprises when we return.”

“Good. Let’s go then.” Kingas raised her hand, motioning them to follow her.

They lined up, Janeway just behind Kingas, and walked the last five hundred meters to the tunnel. She stared into it the darkness and wondered how far into the bedrock the chamber was. A thought suddenly hit home. “Kingas, what happens when we rescue Seven and the Shantari find an empty chamber?”

Kingas’s face hardened and she only shook her head. “This can’t happen,” she stated, her tone firm. “The Shantari has never found an empty chamber in this part of our world. It would ruin the balance between us and them. It is unheard of.” She lit a small track light and entered the tunnel, Janeway following close behind her.

“What do you mean? Someone else must take Seven’s place?”

“Yes.”

Janeway could have sworn her heart stopped. No oxygen reached her lungs and her stomach curled up in a knot, making bile rise in her throat. “Oh, God. I don’t believe this.”

Behind her, Tom and Chakotay walked in silence, apparently lost in thought, judging from their solemn looks. As they approached the door to the chamber, a plan, the only possible outcome of this, formed in her mind. There simply was no other way.

***

The diodes changed again. Seven kept her human eye closed and examined this new, gold colour with her optical implant. It pulsated, from dark okra to bright sunshine, and a tone began to ring in her ears, tormenting her senses as it altered from the deepest rumble to high tones barely within reach of her Borg audio enhancement.

After a while Seven discovered a pattern. The cycle started out as one point five minutes exactly, and it kept diminishing. As she tried to calm her senses down and think logically, Seven realised, dread filling her, that is was a countdown of sorts. What’s going to happen to me when the signal ends? She closed her Borg eye and tried to block out the flickering light and the unnerving tones.

Kathryn. I never thought I would be alone when I expire. I hoped you would be by my side, to hold me and love me when my time came. Is this the end of my journey? Did you liberate me from the Borg for this? Tears began to run from her eyes, not from fear, but from profound sorrow. There are still things I want to tell you, Kathryn. So much more to say.

Seven leaned her head back, as if surrendering to the loud tones and the pulsating light might speed up the process. Please, let it be over with.

***

The glass like walls in the tunnel seemed smooth at first glance, but when she stroke her hand along them, Janeway realised they were adorned with finely chiselled patterns. When she looked closer in the faint light, she saw it was repetitive. “Kingas, are these writings?” she asked the woman behind her.

“Yes. These are ancient scriptures, made by the Shantari.”

“Do you know what it says?”

“Certainly. These scriptures have been included in all of our prayers since the beginning of time.” Kingas voice took on a reverent tone. “They say: ‘Lead the bravest toward the deep cavern. Allow the best to find their way home. Deliver your boldest souls and most loving of hearts to return. Give up your courageous and pure of heart.’”

“And what does that mean?” Janeway lengthened her stride, eager to reach Seven.

“Just what they say. Only the best, with the purest of hearts and souls, could apply to the Seminars. Their studies ranged sometimes over decades before the Scholars deemed them worthy.”

Janeway found Kingas’s explanation both awe-inspiring and deeply unsettling. The belief in and dedication to the Shantari, still lived on in the Samariors. If a seasoned, hardened warrior like Kingas believed in this ancient tradition, it was evident to Janeway how it must permeate the Samorians in general.

They moved farther into the bedrock, the obsidian tunnel still as wide and the pattern on its walls increasing. Janeway wasn’t sure she wanted to know what they said.

When they reached the end of the tunnel, Kingas and Dargas approached the smooth wall. Dargas put down his disruptor and pulled out a leather string that hung around his neck. He produced a black glass like square object, which dangled from its end.

Kingas put a hand on his arm and stopped him just as he went to raise the object toward the wall. “Be careful. Remember it malfunctioned at first, last time we tried.”

Dargas’s eyes reduced to narrow slits as he regarded Kingas. “You don’t have to remind me what happened last time we were in this tunnel.”

Her voice grew incredibly soft, something Janeway had thought impossible with this impressive woman, Kingas raised her hand to Dargas’s shoulder. “I know. Dorma was too good for this world.”

Dargas covered Kingas’s hand for a moment before raising the piece of black glass. He pressed it against the wall and Janeway saw how it began to move. Gods, Seven. I’m coming for you. Please be all right in there.

***

B’Elanna punched commands into the computer console in a furious pace. “Computer, how many Voyager crewmembers are onboard?”

“Eighty-three crewmembers are onboard.”

“Their status?”

“Fifteen in sickbay, twenty eight in engineering, ten on lower decks, sixteen in shuttle bay one, ten in cargo bay two, four on the bridge.”

B’Elanna targeted the main house, where Masier had held Seven captured, and fired Voyager’s phasers. Not taking her eyes off the screen, she watched in great satisfaction how the large structure exploded into a massive fireball, with debris shooting through the air. Everywhere, mercenaries engaged in battle with the part of the Voyager crew that was still outside. A quick headcount suggested that about sixty crewmembers were fighting out there. I have to find a way to get them inside.

B’Elanna engaged short range scanners to search for her next target. She had already taken out Masier’s ammunition depots, his house and several of the hangars. She studied the data flickering on the screen. All she saw was barracks, sheds and minor aircraft. Suddenly the computer stopped scrolling and she stared at the perfect target. If she managed to destroy this, it would put Masier out of business for a long, long time. B’Elanna recalculated twice before she set the coordinates. She opened ship wide communications, as well as external speakers, and alerted her crew. She knew by doing that, she’d tip off the mercenaries, but she couldn’t afford to not warn everyone.

“All hands, seek shelter, seek shelter. I repeat, all hands seek shelter.” She watched the battle outside stop in its tracks for a moment when everyone listened. Voyager’s crew pulled back towards the ship, all the time firing at the enemy. B’Elanna waited thirty seconds, repeated her warning and then punched in the last command.

A photon torpedo broke free from Voyager, seared through the air with a howl, and slammed into a tall structure across the tarmac. If this doesn’t push Voyager off her struts, nothing will. B’Elanna clutched at the armrests of the Doctor’s chair and sucked her lower lip in as she witnessed the explosion when Masier’s tractor beam technology was destroyed. The shockwave hit Voyager, but the intrepid ship stood its ground and remained erect on its struts.

B’Elanna prayed that the crewmembers fighting outside were all right. She looked up as the Doctor entered his office with a scowl on his face. “Lieutenant, what’s going on? Are you trying to kill us all?”

“As a matter of fact, the opposite, Doctor. I blew up the tractor-beam apparatus in the tower across the tarmac. I would hope that this meets with your approval.” She tried to inject her normal sarcastic tone in her voice, but knew she sounded just as exhausted and pain stricken as she was.

The Doctor’s features relaxed and he went over to her and scanned her quickly with a medical tricorder. “You will not last much longer doing this, unless you allow me to operate,” he cautioned. “Your spleen, along with your liver and kidneys are under tremendous strain, Lieutenant.”

“Just give me another of those pain killers, Doc. I’ll be fine.” I have to be. B’Elanna grimaced at the exasperated look on the EMH’s face. “I know, I know. As soon as the captain and the rest of the away team have brought Seven back and we’re safe in space, you can operate to your little heart’s content, all right?”

“One more and that’s all I can give you, in all good conscience, B’Elanna. It isn't medically defendable to give you more. You Klingons are strong by nature, but the opposite goes for your liver. And since you're half human, there might be unforeseen consequences. Next time the pain gets unbearable, you’re going on that biobed. I will make sure of it.” The Doctor’s resolve was impressive and B’Elanna found herself nodding in uncharacteristic compliance. “Very well, Lieutenant, as long as we have an understanding.”

“Don’t push it, Doctor.” B’Elanna saw the necessity in reasserting her usual resilience. “Let me have that shot now so I can go on. I’m the senior officer onboard at the moment. I can’t give into this now.”

The Doctor pressed a hypospray against the side of her neck and a familiar sting followed the muted hiss when he pressed the button. Within seconds the throbbing pain reduced to a faint tremor inside her and she could focus on supporting the part of the Voyager crew still fighting hand to hand combat out there.

Suddenly the readings on the short range scanners caught her attention. B’Elanna froze for a fraction of a second before she pulled the Doctor’s computer console closer with jerky hand movements. “P’tach!” she cursed and pulled up a view from an aft camera link. What she saw made her lungs deplete the last of the oxygen in the room as she drew a deep breath. “What the hell…? Where did that come from? Damn it! Doctor! Neelix! Get on the computers out there. Our crew is in trouble out there!”

The Doctor and Neelix must have distinguished the dread in her tone of voice, because they raced to the two medical consoles.

“Pull up the views of the aft part of the tarmac and then calculate the distance to that damn thing!” B’Elanna saw out of the corner of her eyes how they two men punched in commands and assumed they could see what she saw.

A massive armoured vehicle was approaching Voyager from behind. “Masier,” B’Elanna muttered through gritted teeth. She examined the images and the computer readings on the monstrosity that was on a steady course toward them. There were no way to penetrate its hull, to scan for life signatures, but the vehicle was thirteen metres wide and more than twenty-five metres in length. In the front sat an impressive, seven metre cannon. If they had the opportunity to fire this on Voyager, it wouldn’t matter if her crew won the battle. They’d never be able to repair the ship enough to take off.

“What do you see, Doc?” B’Elanna called out.

“We could be staring at our demise,” the Doctor said with unusual fatalism. “I’m getting readings of forty Sidior signatures behind this…tank.”

“And I’m detecting just as many approaching from starboard.” Neelix voice was calm, but B’Elanna knew the Talaxian well enough to notice the sorrow in his voice. “They outnumber our crew and they’re heavily armed.”

“Think quickly, gentlemen,” B’Elanna growled. “We have to stop this thing, and fast.” She kept staring at the small screen, her soul shrinking when she saw the Sidior armoured tank begin to raise its cannon.

***

CONTINUED in chapter 9

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