Chapter Text
Chakotay stopped the away team with a wave of his hand and stared at the jagged pathway that led deeper into the jail. The razor like teeth which protruded from the ground glinted in the light from his wrist beacon. His heart began to thump. This was an unexpected set-back. He'd expected force-fields, guards, booby-traps, but not this vicious carpet of blades. It stretched on for metres into the darkness. Not one of them could venture much farther without his boots being ripped to shreds and thereafter his feet.
No wonder that the security so far had been easily evaded! Two guards downed, several force-fields quickly deactivated and a few locks picked or phasered out of existence. They'd got this far with little resistance and successfully avoided raising any alarms. Despite the shields which prevented transporters and scanners from penetrating the interior, this was a poorly secured facility from the ground. The Gaisuu, whose unenviable planet they had called on in desperate need for resources, were evidently content that the facility was unlikely to be a source of interest to the visitors from Alpha Quadrant. It had been a matter of luck that intelligence gathering missions had found a few people willing to divulge where they had taken her…their beloved Captain arrested and jailed for no other reason than that she had dared to take her ship into Gaisuun space. They had been told to leave, to move on without her, to be glad that they hadn't all been arrested. A race, which on the viewscreen had seemed perfectly welcoming, had turned out to be calculating and malicious in the flesh. They weren't the first and they wouldn't be the last.
He wondered, as he had done many times over the hours they'd spent in planning this operation, whether Kathryn would approve of their going against the prime directive. He certainly had no qualms about doing so himself in an effort to recover her safely. Diplomacy had failed spectacularly. She'd been arrested on spurious charges, tried instantly in a kangaroo court and within hours sentenced to life imprisonment. Not one of the crew had been witness to the trial, nor even seen her since. They had been left with no other avenues to secure her release. He was in charge now, and Starfleet protocol was certainly not going to stop him. There was no way he was going to break orbit and leave without her. He wouldn't do that to the lowliest member of the crew, let alone to the woman he'd loved for six years. Besides, if the situation had been different and if some other member of the crew had been incarcerated in this way instead of the Captain, he was pretty sure she would not abandon them to languish in some hideous jail for the rest of their lives, prime directive be damned.
Failure was not an option. The prospect of going onward without Kathryn was unthinkable.
He squatted down next to Tom, who was studying the blades of metal grass intently. He reached out and touched a few blades cautiously with a knife. He could tell the blades were razor sharp.
"We should be careful!" he addressed Tom. "They could be coated in poison!"
Tom nodded. "It is possible. I was wondering if they could be retracted at all. They must have some method for crossing this."
Chakotay dug around with his knife. "I don't think so. They look pretty firm to me."
"I think you're right."
Chakotay shone his torch forward and decided there were several metres of the stuff before the ground became solid again, and possibly further patches of the lethal grass beyond. Scanning the smooth walls of the corridor which constituted the only access to the jail, he realised there was no way of getting any purchase there in order to climb sideways along the wall for the length of the metal carpet. Going back outside to ask Voyager to beam down some boards to lay over the blades or anti-grav units was not an option. The commotion would significantly increase their chances of being discovered and thus the attempt to rescue Kathryn would have to be abandoned. Then the Gaisuuns would move her and their chances of discovering where they kept her a second time would be almost negligible.
Tom aimed his phaser at a patch of the grass to see if this had any effect. The blades glowed white hot, but remained stubbornly vertical. After thirty seconds, he shut down the beam with frustration. Burning a way through was clearly not possible. "Could we phaser down some doors?"
Chakotay considered this for a moment. "We've only passed a couple…and it would take quite a few to span the distance. And they'd have to be strong to withstand the pressure from the spikes."
"Sir!" called Ayala coming up from the rear. He was waving something in the darkness and held it out towards his superior officer. "Try these. I took them off the two unconscious guards."
Chakotay took the offered objects and turned them over curiously. "Boots?"
"Yes, sir. They have reinforced soles…look!"
Chakotay studied the boots carefully and saw that this was indeed the case. The boots were specifically designed to walk on the deathly blades. The soles looked like they were made of tritanium or something approaching it, and had indents specifically designed to gain purchase on the lethal carpet. Ordinary boots would give out within a few paces. They would become quickly impaled on the spikes or fall apart, effectively trapping their wearer in the midst of the carpet. It would be impossible to move in bare feet…the blades would spike any bare flesh instantly. It was a very effective deterrent to unwelcome visitors. He was relieved to see that the boots were more than large enough for human feet, probably too big…the Gaisuuns being slightly larger than humans.
"We need more of these. Ayala, Jenkins, go back and scout for some. Meet back here in five minutes. Paris and I will go forward and see what we can do."
Chakotay and Tom donned the two pairs of boots, ripping the hem of their t-shirts to improve the fit. They cast their own boots to the side and ventured cautiously onto the blades. They would have to cross the carpet very carefully. If either of them fell, they would be seriously injured, if not trapped with spikes sticking into them. The soles of the boots did not flex and they were somewhat cumbersome to walk in.
This first section of this malicious humanoid flypaper lasted for about fifteen metres before the floor returned to stone. Some way beyond that, a second section of bladed flooring was reached. Chakotay turned and signalled this information with his beacon to the two remaining members of the recovery team who were waiting, phasers at the ready, for the return of Ayala and Jenkins.
Tom and Chakotay crossed this second section without incident and found the corridor terminated in a very dark T junction. They flattened themselves against the wall in long-practised manner and signalled a halt. Chakotay scanned round the corner to get a view in both directions.
No force-fields were detected, which made their job easier. One direction was in complete darkness, although the bars of some cells could just be made out. In the other direction there was a lamp on a desk, and a guard with his back to the wall was sitting reading some sort of book. There appeared to be no other guards, although it was hard to be sure because the space beyond this guard was in darkness.
There was by now a strong stench of unwashed bodies and putrid flesh which made their stomachs churn. They were nearing the heart of the prison.
Chakotay and Tom nodded to each other and, on the count of three, leapt round the corner. A shot from Tom's phaser stunned the guard almost before he'd had a chance to react.
Waiting only momentarily to see if any other guards appeared, they surged forwards and ensured the guard was out for the count. Chakotay tried to tamp down his disgust at the creature's appearance…he'd come to detest their furry faces over the last few days. They turned the man over and secured his hands behind his back, before removing the bunch of cell keys from his waist and his communicator. As Chakotay began to remove the boots from the limp body, Tom rose to investigate a door to the side of the guard's desk. It opened into a brightly lit but unoccupied room. Glancing round, he saw a row of monitors showing views of several of the dingy prison corridors. He could see the rest of the away team on one, so they had been lucky that no-one had been paying any attention. So far, they had gotten in with little trouble. He also noted a rack with several pairs of the special boots, and he picked up three pairs before returning to Chakotay with his booty.
Chakotay looked up from behind the desk as Tom returned. He had his scanner linked to a computer on the desk, hoping it might be able to provide a lead to Kathryn's whereabouts. It was clearly having problems with the alien protocol.
"Several monitors in there," Tom told him. "Can't be sure no-one else is watching."
Chakotay nodded, handing Tom the pair of boots he'd just removed from the prone guard. "Get those back to the others!"
Tom gathered the four pairs of boots and made the return journey while Chakotay wrestled with the alien computer. He needed to be cautious, in case anyone was monitoring the network for unauthorised access. A glance around the immediate vicinity suggested that the majority of the prisoners were asleep. This was something of a relief.
The scanner came up with a password and eventually a list of prisoners. Kathryn's name was not immediately visible, but a reference to a pale bald alien (female) in block 4 caught his eye. He knew that nearly every alien (even Kathryn with her wonderfully exotic russet hair) would appear bald to this overly hairy creatures, but it was the best lead they had. By the time he had checked it against his plan of the prison, the others were back…all booted up with the shoes Tom had taken them. Neither Ayala nor Jenkins had managed to obtain any on their scouting trip.
They dragged the body of the downed guard into the small room and locked him in. Stealthily they crept forward, Chakotay indicating the direction they should take. The corridor was darkened, but there were cells on either side, dank and medieval in nature. They had bars at the front and they could make out the shapes of pitiful lifeforms within, huddled in corners on the floor. Few had bunks to sleep on. Most were Gaisuun, but the occasional alien appeared. They were nearly all male and in solitary confinement.
And they were nearly all naked. Those few that were not, were wearing only filthy rags. This dungeon was cold and filthy…a place not even fit for animals. Tom and Chakotay exchanged a glance of horror. Both knew now that they would find Kathryn in terrible conditions. She could not survive long here. They hoped that they were not already too late.
They crossed a further patch of blading, before they reached their destination. Entering cell block 4, they began searching, shining their beacons through the bars. A few poor wretches lifted their heads momentarily, before dropping them wearily onto their chests. They had neither the strength nor the motivation to care what was happening beyond their cell. Most didn't react at all. They were clearly used to having torches shone at them in the middle of the night.
This was a dark and miserable place. It smelt of unclean flesh, rotten food, vomit. There were no windows that would admit any light or air during the heat of the day. The place was probably crawling with vermin. There were drains for urine and excrement to be washed away running into a culvert in one corner, the only link to the outside world. No wonder the guards did not spend much of their time policing such a ghastly hell-hole. Tom and Chakotay tried hard to mask the concern from their faces as they ventured forward. Realising the horror of what they might find, sensing they were closing in on their Captain and concerned for her dignity, they made the rest of the team hang back and guard their escape route.
They could wish with all their hearts to release all these miserable beings from this terrible place, but they were well enough trained to know they had to focus on their mission. They had to find Kathryn. Failure was not an option.
They'd passed ten or fifteen cells and rounded two corners before Chakotay caught sight of a huddled white shape with its back to the wall and its feet drawn up, shins enclosed in its arms. The dark head which had dropped onto the knees glinted a distinctive and unmistakable red in the light of the beam. The miserable figure was immediately recognisable as human. Frail, thin, dirty, naked. Chakotay held out his arm to halt Tom. The prisoner did not react to the light that fell on it.
Chakotay's heart was pumping now as he went forward to inspect the lock. He decided not to speak until he had got the door open, ready for escape, and he could actually touch her. He fiddled with half a dozen keys with shaking hands, and he scolded himself for his loss of control. None of them fitted! He told himself to focus, to hold steady. Kathryn needed him. Tom came forward and wordlessly took the bunch of keys from him and tried again. Finally the lock gave way and the door creaked open.
"Kathryn!" Chakotay whispered as he approached her. "Kathryn!"
There was no response. He knelt down in front of her touching her gently on the arm. Tom stood back in deference to both of them, casting his eyes elsewhere and taking in the horror of the cell in which his commanding officer had been incarcerated. There was no bed, just a pile of dirty straw on part of the cold stone floor. There was an empty tin mug on its side and a plate with a few scraps of stale bread. Nothing more. It made his heart bleed.
He fought the need to turn his eyes back to the prisoner for a moment, even though he was the only one there with medical training. He wanted to give Chakotay the chance to reach out to her first. He knew the big guy had a special relationship with this woman. How far it went, he never could tell, but he'd always hoped it was more than just friendship. He knew they'd always been attracted to each other and he knew they cared very deeply for each other. Friends or lovers, these were two people who held each other in special regard.
"Kathryn. It's me. Chakotay!" said the older man softly.
The prisoner finally lifted her head slightly. Her eyes were clouded, confused. She tried to focus on the stranger looking at her.
"I've come to take you home."
The light seemed to come on in the prisoner's eyes. "Chako…"
"I'm here, love." He stroked her arm gently, trying to reinforce his presence. "Can you stand for me?"
Weakly, she pulled up into his arms. He was immediately struck by the boniness of her frame, how cold she was and how she trembled. He tried to tamp down the rush of emotion that was engulfing him. This was the body he'd dreamed of holding naked for years, but this was very far from how he envisaged it. She was cold as ice. She lacked the soft fullness of his imagination. Her breasts, which he had tried hard not to look at, had all but disappeared. His heart ached as he thought of her ordeal, and he had to remind himself that this was not how Kathryn in her full glory would be. She smelled unwashed, no trace of her usual sweet fragrance…roses, occasionally peaches or some other delightful combination. He'd held her often enough over the years to catalogue them all.
He held her for a few moments, desperate to offer comfort, allowing his chin to rest on the top of her head. "We'll get you home," he repeated.
Tom now stepped forward and took a very quick scan of Kathryn. Glancing sideways, Chakotay could tell even in the darkness that Tom's face looked grim.
"Can she be moved?"
Tom nodded. "She's weak. She'll need help. And she's very dehydrated. This will help," he finished, applying a hypospray to her neck.
As Kathryn leaned back against the wall for support, Chakotay pulled off his backsack and shrugged off his jacket, casting his eyes aside for the moment. He stepped forward to put her into his jacket and only then looked fully into her face. He smiled sadly as a few stray tears tracked down her cheeks.
After a moment's consideration, Tom repeated Chakotay's movements and stepped forward with his own jacket dangling from one hand. He held it towards Chakotay, who took it solemnly. For a moment Chakotay felt confused, until he realised that his own jacket only covered her top half and just reached to the middle of her buttocks.
"We need to get moving!" Tom urged.
Chakotay nodded and tied Tom's jacket around her waist, to cover as much of her lower half as possible. He too was anxious to get going.
Together they helped Kathryn back out the way they had come and rejoined the rest of the away team. There was a brief nod and a smile from the others, the only acknowledgement that they had regained their Captain. Tom, Chakotay and Kathryn surged ahead retracing the route to safety. Ayala without a word fell in behind, guarding their rear.
As soon as they came to the first of the evil carpets, they realised one of the reasons for the nakedness of the prisoners. Even if they escaped the cells, in bare feet they could never cross these lethal traps. The practicality of getting Kathryn across became paramount.
"I'll carry you across," he said, turning to her. "Can you climb on my back?"
Kathryn looked doubtful for a moment, but he hunched himself lower and she put her arms around his shoulders. He heaved her slightly, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he closed his arms under her knees to support her weight. Tom adjusted his jacket slightly to preserve her dignity and Chakotay closed his eyes to try and put out of his mind the fact that her naked vulva was pressed against his back. There was only the thin layer of his vest between them. Tom glanced at him in concern, and he nodded that he was okay. His burden was after all so light.
He started cautiously onto the mat and took steady steps forward. He didn't dare slip.
"You okay up there?" he asked Kathryn. She only answered with a slight grunt.
The first carpet cleared, he lowered her back to the floor, and it was immediately obvious that she needed support even on the solid ground. After all, she still had no shoes. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to faint. Tom and Chakotay both had to support her for a while.
Twice more, Chakotay had to carry her across the blade carpets, and twice Tom put his hands on her butt to give her some support. It was a reflection of her level of consciousness that she never raised an objection.
As they passed the last cell, Tom threw the set of keys through the bars where they landed with a clang. The poor wretch inside probably didn't have much chance of escape, but they could not afford to stay and open all the other cells. It was all he could do, and a commotion within the cells here might cover their tracks for a while.
When they finally reached the exterior of the building, Ayala set about contacting Voyager, whilst Tom again ran a medical tricorder over his Captain.
He pulled a bottle of water from his backsack and offered it to her. She took it gratefully. "You're dehydrated," he told her. She nodded and took a long draught. "Go easy…we need to get you to Sickbay."
"My quarters please…I need a bath," she managed.
Tom and Chakotay exchanged a look, and nodded at each other.
Chakotay hit his comm. badge. "Voyager, lock onto my comm. badge and beam three to the Captain's quarters. Send the Doctor to us," he spoke the words clearly.
Kathryn, supported by Tom and Chakotay, one on either side, vanished in a blue haze.