Chapter 8 added on 11 July 2000
Disclaimers are in part 1.
Rating: R
It didn't take long for the first rays of dawn to shine into the cave, enfolding Seven in their warmth, as the last vestiges of night languidly receded. Soon her captors would rise and find her companion missing. Seven steeled herself for the confrontation and the unwanted advances of the leader of the riffraff band, Kal. The coward had begun to stir, Seven observed, twitching his leg and rubbing his nose, after two hours of sleep. Finally, the sniveling noises woke Kal, who stretched and glanced around the cave. Noticing the obvious change immediately, he jumped up from his bedding, and kicked Vek into consciousness.
"Wake up, damn it! The pesky one's escaped!" Kal bellowed, grabbing his weapon from the ground. "Orn!"
When he got no answer, he stalked over to the mouth of the cave, and peered outside, not finding the brawny man.
"Orn!" he shouted again, and still he received no response. He looked over to Vek, who had finally put things together in his brain and figured out that the half-Klingon, the one who almost tore his arm off the night before, had run off.
"Vek, go and find out what happened to Orn!" he ordered. "That bitch is dead when I get my hands on her."
Vek scrambled over to his pack to get his rifle, and ran out of the cave before Kal could kick him in the ass again. He hated being humiliated, especially in front of the females, even when they were about to be raped. Kal walked over to Seven, and grabbed her roughly by her frozen arm, hauling her to her feet. His face was twisted in anger at being made a fool of.
"Where is she?!" he demanded.
Seven only glared at him in defiance, and replied, "I do not know."
"Your friend escaped and left you here to die. Now you're going to suffer the consequences!" he snapped, shaking Seven violently.
"BaQa' jay'!" Seven cursed, trying to twist out of his grip.
Kal seized the back of her head, loosening her hair from her bun, and pulled her face toward his, planting his rancid lips against hers, before she quickly tore away from him.
"Qovpatlh!" she cussed. She kneed him in the groin, but lost her balance in the process, crashing hard onto her side.
He recovered and was about to claw at her again, when a familiar voice stopped him.
"You're going to pay for that," came the low growl.
Discretely, Kal reached for his weapon, and spun around to shoot, but B'Elanna fired first, knocking his weapon out of his hand. She shot at his weapon one more time as he tried to lunge for it, exploding it into pieces. Then she tossed her disrupter aside, and hurled herself at him. The last thing he saw was her fist flying towards his face.
"Uhh! I can't believe you're unconscious already!" B'Elanna yelled, jerking the limp figure by the collar. "How am I supposed to kill you now, PetaQ?!"
"Lieutenant!" called out Seven, who hated being ignored.
The Klingon dropped him to the floor, and kicked him one more time in the ribs for good measure, before retrieving her weapon. B'Elanna ran over to the Borg, and hugged her fiercely for a brief instant. She took a knife, which once belonged to one of their captors, and cut Seven free of her binds. Seven clasped her arm around B'Elanna's neck and embraced her, afraid to let go. B'Elanna rubbed her back soothingly until she felt Seven relax and withdraw slightly.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yes," Seven answered, relieved to see her lieutenant and somewhat satisfied that her enemy had been punished.
"Come on, help me tie the creep up," B'Elanna requested, tilting her head towards the figure lying in the dirt.
Seven nodded. And B'Elanna, still holding the blonde closely, helped her up and over to the prone body.
As they tied Kal's arms and legs together, Seven asked, "What happened the other individuals?"
"When I got out of the cave, I saw Orn perched on one of the rocks around the bend of the path. I tried to knock him out with one blow so he wouldn't make any noise, but I guess he had a hard head. He didn't cry out, though. He told me he'd give me a fighting chance. Suffice to say, they're not as strong as they look. If you were back to your old self, you'd have more strength in your left pinkie than all of them combined," explained B'Elanna.
"I waited for dawn behind some rocks, 'cause I knew they'd come looking for Orn. I stuffed Orn into one of the other caves. I thought, maybe, I could use him as a hostage to trade for you. Then I saw that Vek walk out of the entrance so I took the opportunity. I had to kill the whimpering coward, though, because he would have screamed."
B'Elanna frowned at the last part, remembering the way the man's blood had spilled from his throat. But she found a look of understanding in Seven's eyes, and did not dwell on on the memory. It was good to see that the Borg was largely unhurt by the ordeal. Seven smiled slightly, realizing that B'Elanna hadn't gotten farther than perhaps a hundred feet from her the whole time they had been separated.
"You did not leave me?" Seven asked, her doe eyes shiny with unshed tears.
The Klingon shifted uncomfortably. "I couldn't.... Besides, once I took out Orn, I knew I had a working plan. I told you I would never abandon you."
Breaking off Seven's gaze, B'Elanna went back to work, leaving Seven to ponder over her words. B'Elanna lugged the unconscious Kal to the deeper part of the cave, hiding him under the brutes' smelly bedding. Then she stole all their weapons and re-packed their survival gear.
"Let's get out of here, before the reinforcements arrive," B'Elanna noted.
"Agreed. We should also take their outer garments, as well," Seven suggested.
"You're right. Good idea," complimented B'Elanna, eyeing their cloaks.
The lieutenant resumed her role as Seven's own personal shuttle service, gathering Seven against her back, and feeling the reassuring weight and warmth. They set out towards the settlement to the north, once again, hoping to reach it before nightfall, as they were halfway there.
"Honestly, Seven. Where did you learn to swear like that? Janeway's gonna wash your mouth out with soap if she hears you," teased B'Elanna as she made her way down the rocky passageway, away from the stone formations.
Seven proceeded to tell B'Elanna at length, just exactly where she obtained her long list of colorful epithets, from the date she heard it to the context in which it was used. To put it mildly, Seven would have made even the Klingon's mother, Miral, very proud.
~~~~~~~~
They reached the edge of the settlement by nightfall. The trek had improved when the sand gradually turned harder to orange-reddish dirt and gravel. Seven was able to walk using B'Elanna as a crutch, giving the Klingon a breather. They hid from the occasional stray hovercrafts that passed by, not knowing whether the inhabitants of the planet were of the welcoming, or at least indifferent, sort. They ducked again in an alleyway, when another craft floated by with a bunch of boisterous, obviously drunk aliens of various species, and concealed their faces with their stolen cloaks.
Seven had her eyes closed, B'Elanna noticed, as she rested against the wall of the structure. She looked tired. B'Elanna should have known Seven had been pushing herself beyond her limits, even though the Borg had vehemently denied it several times during the course of their hike. They were out of water and low on rations, and they were going to need shelter for the night. Unfortunately, the two women had no currency to speak of. The lieutenant assisted Seven over to the bottom of some stone steps to sit down and rest, away from the sparse lamps that lit the wide roads.
B'Elanna heard footsteps and the clops of an animal coming down the street. She peered around the corner to see a solid-looking humanoid walking along side a four-legged beast of burden. The animal was fairly large, its height above the waist of its owner, and reminded her of small pony back on Earth. It stopped to nibble on a bush, standing next to a fence that enclosed a two story, stone and clay structure, typical of the houses that lined the streets. The house was unadorned, with a flat roof and small but numerous windows, carved out of the clay coating, and light emanating softly from them.
"Ay, Fessi, why do you always stop right in front of the house, after our little walk?" the man asked. "There are so many other bushes along the way."
The man sighed and tried to push against the animal's behind to try to get it to move on inside, but the animal didn't budge, content on continuing its sampling of the sweet leaves. The man raised his hand as if to strike the animal on its backside, but instead lightly tapped it in resignation. Dramatically, the man sighed again, loudly, and sat down on the bench next to the bush, resting his elbow on his knee and propping his face in his hand. The lamp illuminated him so that B'Elanna could see him clearly. He was middle-aged, had dark brown, almost black hair that was short, and his face and nose were quite broad. He had a stoutness about him, that was neither threatening nor clumsy however. The man dressed simply in a tunic, trousers and short coat, that were made of plain, unrefined material.
"Okay, have it your way. Even if I've had a long day of work, and I still kept my promise to walk you every night. I'll just sit here and probably fall asleep, while I'm at it, until the next morning, and then Moka will have my hide," the man complained.
The animal seemed to notice his master's lament, and rolled its eyes. Finally, the animal decided it had enough of teasing his master and moseyed on through the gateway. Noticing his triumph with that particular strategy, the man grinned lazily and proceeded to trail in after the animal.
It was now or never, and the lieutenant made a split-second decision. After witnessing his gentle manner with which he handled the animal, B'Elanna had an impression that this man would not turn them away. Pulling Seven along, B'Elanna caught up with the man before he could close the gate.
"Please, Sir. Could you offer us some shelter for the night? We are weary travelers passing through," asked B'Elanna.
The man held the gate open but raised his hand to refuse.
"Please... I know we have no money, but my friend here is not well. I'm strong, and I can work in any form of labor to repay you," she pleaded.
The man paused, and seemed to think for a moment. He squinted at them both in scrutiny, noting the way the other figure hung onto the woman who had spoken. Seven lifted her head to look at the Klingon, who had just begged another individual for her benefit.
"Come inside," the man invited, perhaps after seeing Seven's fragility for himself.
"Thank you," B'Elanna responded simply. Placing Seven's left arm around her shoulders and supporting the ex-drone, she followed the man inside the gate, past the front enclosure and into the house. The common room they entered was neatly kept, with a long table in the center, chairs along the walls, a fire and mantle on the far side, between the kitchen and an archway that led to the interior of the home.
"Please, warm yourselves by the fire," the man said, pointing to the hearth.
B'Elanna moved Seven over to one of the chairs by the fire. The ex-drone was grateful for the chance to rest after the day's journey. She pulled her hood down, revealing the blonde hair that cascaded to her shoulders, and let out a deep breath. Just then, they heard another pair of footsteps, and saw a small elderly woman shamble into the room from the archway.
"What's this?" the woman inquired, examining the two strangers in her home, her broad, round face wrinkling more so that usual.
"Ah...two travelers who'd like shelter for the night," informed the man. "I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced. I'm Dannan, and this is my mother-in-law, Moka."
B'Elanna spoke, "I'm Bey, this is Ani. We're new here, and we were separated from our family about a day ago. We had to cross the desert, and as a result, we ran out of supplies."
Seven decided to keep silent and let the lieutenant continue the story, finding it quite interesting herself. The two individuals appeared harmless, unlike the men who attacked and tried to kidnap them.
"Ay, two women alone...in the desert. How awful..." interjected Moka. "You both must be tired. Dannan, don't just sit there like a log. Get these two some water."
Dannan walked over to the pitcher in the kitchen and brought back cups for the two of them. They thanked him, and drank eagerly, Dannan observed.
"You said Ani is not well. Should I call a physician?" asked Dannan, looking over at Seven who had been quiet all this time.
"That will not be necessary. My condition cannot be cured by medical means at this time," Seven explained.
"We're grateful for the shelter tonight. I will do everything I can to repay your kindness, and we won't be much trouble," B'Elanna told them, distracting away from Seven.
"Please,..." Dannan raised his hand, unused to all the fuss. "You've thanked us enough. We have an extra room, stay for as long as you need to."
"Yes," agreed Moka. "Get your strength back. It's been a while since we had company, and frankly, I'm beginning to get bored with this big lug," she jested, pointing her thumb at her son-in-law. "You must be starving. And I have lots of leftovers."
Moka shuffled over to the stove and began heating up the dinner that remained. B'Elanna sighed with relief, and leaned back into her chair. She and Seven were finally safe for the time being, as they had not been ever since they crashed on this planet. Dannan excused himself to prepare the spare room for the two new guests.
"Come...come to the table," Moka suggested good-naturedly, waving them over. "The food is almost ready."
B'Elanna once again tucked herself under Seven's arm and helped her over to a seat at the table. Dannan observed the action without comment from the archway before helping Moka with the plates. Suddenly, they heard a gasp which came from Moka.
"Dannan, look at her hand." She gestured to Seven's Borg-enhanced hand with its metal casing.
"Ay, seems to be cybernetic," he noted. Then he stared at Seven, taking in her implants, her hand, her apparent paralysis and put everything together.
"Are you an android or other machine of some sort?" he questioned.
Before Seven could answer, B'Elanna replied for her, "She was stolen as a child and raised by a race called the Borg. They were the ones who gave her cybernetic implants. We, that is, my family, rescued her from them, and she has been part of us ever since."
Seven was taken aback by B'Elanna's admission. All this time, she had not been entirely sure that the crew of Voyager, except for a few, actually thought of her as part of the crew, let alone Lt. Torres.
"Ah, now I understand. Your cybernetic implants are malfunctioning," he added, proud of his deduction.
The two women exchanged glances, amazed that someone understood their situation so quickly. He seemed to notice their stunned silence, and tried to reassure them.
"I'm a robotics technician. I repair damaged assistant droids and other artificial intelligence modules in town," he explained. "I have a home workshop here. I might be able to help you, though I doubt I have anything as sophisticated as your systems. We have heard of the "Borg" from deep-space travelers, but they have not come to this sector."
"Thank you, Dannan," B'Elanna acknowledged. "Perhaps, we may be able to find something that will repair Ani's malfunctioning systems. And I'd be happy to assist you with work, for the hospitality you both have shown us, as I have some experience with robotics."
"Later, later. You must eat and rest for now, and think of such things in the morning," insisted Moka. "We must fatten you both up. And when you are done, we'll see about dessert."
Dannan ceased his questioning for the night. He could never argue with Moka. B'Elanna stared at her plate, which was covered with heaps of food. It reminded her of the time she and her mother visited Qo'noS when she was eight, and her grandmother had piled her plate in a similar fashion, except some of the Klingon dishes were still moving on her plate. She still remembered what she had thought at the time. 'When I'm done with all the food, I'll be dead.'
The half-Klingon looked over to Seven who regarded her plate with similar doubts, with the quirk of her brow. Still she was famished enough to try the daunting task, and found that Moka was quite a wonderful cook. Finally, when they couldn't possibly fit anything else into their stomachs, Dannan led them to the back of the house, to the spare room.
"I took the liberty of leaving out some bed clothes. They belonged to my late wife. They may be a little big on you both, in different ways," he noted.
They thanked him once again for his kindness, then Dannan bid them goodnight, as it was extremely late, and politely closed the door behind him. Seven scanned the small room. On the left, there was a cot, big enough for the both of them. Along the far wall, there were a couple of chairs, a closet, and to the right, a night table with a basin, pitcher of fresh water and towels. A cool breeze came from a small window adjacent to the cot. The furnishings were modest, but spoke of comfort and good craftsmanship.
B'Elanna dropped their sacks on the floor of the room, sat Seven on the bed, and brought over the water and basin. She helped Seven remove her clothing from behind, and placed a towel around the Borg to keep away the chill. Then B'Elanna wiped away most of the grime of the past two days from Seven's skin, wherever the blonde couldn't reach, and dressed her in one of the soft nightgowns Dannan had provided. At last, she tucked Seven into the bed, knowing she was exhausted. She dimmed the lanterns, before she began tending to herself. Slowly, she peeled off the uniform that practically adhered to her, and washed herself off as best she could under the circumstances. Luckily, the room was fairly warm. Finishing, she wrapped herself in what seemed to be a sarong, and replaced the basin and pitcher on the table. B'Elanna walked over to the bed, and was surprised to find Seven's eyes open, watching her.
"Still awake?" she asked, keeping her voice neutral, as she sat down on the bed, and hesitated briefly before sliding under the covers.
She propped herself up on her right side, resting her face in her hand as she spoke to Seven, who was lying on her back, now gazing at the ceiling.
After a moment went by, Seven asked, "Did you experience fear when we were held captive?"
"Sure I did," B'Elanna admitted.
"You did not appear so, Lieutenant."
"I think you better call me Bey, to keep up the pretenses, Ani," she emphasized humorously. "But to answer your question, I was afraid. But I've also been in that situation before, when I was in the Maquis dealing with Cardassians." Her voice hardened slightly.
Seven looked at her with concern. "Were you damaged?"
"Yes," B'Elanna responded softly. "But nothing I haven't been able to put behind me."
She reached out tuck Seven's hair behind her ears, but kept her hand on the slender shoulder closest to her, stroking the tangled blonde locks free.
"Yet you still harbor hostile feelings against their species?" Seven questioned.
"Yeah, I guess I do. I've never had any good encounters with their kind, none of the Maquis did."
"I, too, harbor ill feelings toward the individuals that attacked us. I do not believe my opinion of their species can be changed." Seven frowned, as the memories of the previous night were still fresh on her mind.
"I'm afraid I'm not the best example of what you should do in this case," B'Elanna replied, at a loss. She paused, then said, "What do you think Janeway would say?"
Seven thought about it for a while. "I believe she would say that I should not judge a whole species of beings based upon the actions of a few individuals. That I would be a better human being for not doing so."
"That does sound like the Captain," B'Elanna noted, with a tired smile. "When you first encountered the Hirogen, the experience was unpleasant. They kidnapped you, treated you like prey, and threatened to hurt you."
Seven nodded, and let B'Elanna continue.
"But when you were forced to fight in the Tsunkatse matches, you met and befriended a Hirogen, or rather he befriended you. What I'm saying is,...you got past your previous bad experience, and discovered the individual that was worth knowing. Even though you ended up fighting each other, but that's a different thing. My point is...you are a much better person for it, unlike a stubborn ex-Maquis like me."
Seven smiled slightly, lifting her brow as she analyzed what B'Elanna said and came to the conclusion that the lieutenant had made a logical point. B'Elanna understood such matters a lot more than people gave her credit for, believing that emotions ruled her actions more often than not. B'Elanna watched as a look of comprehension appeared on the Borg's face, and subsequently, it seemed to relax Seven.
"Think you can sleep now?"
"Yes. Thank you, Lieuten..., Bey." Seven corrected herself. She turned over onto her left side, with her back to B'Elanna, and asked, "Would you hold me the way you did last night?"
B'Elanna felt her heart skip from the request, but quietly she moved up and spooned Seven from behind, placing her arm around the lithe figure as she did the night before. Sighing, she nuzzled her face between Seven's shoulder blades, and didn't move from there until the morning.
Author's notes:
1. BaQa' - back end of a certain animal; jay' - used to emphasize a curse like when you add f--king to a sentence.
2. Qovpatlh (epithet) - The unofficial definition: insignificant; beneath notice; useless due to worthlessness.
3. Klingon curses references: http://www.fyi.net/~kordite/ww/klinfaq.html and http://www.gcty.com/Athens/8853/curse.html
4. B'Elanna's Klingon name is spelled "beylanna," and she has pronounced it as such in ST Voyager episodes, Dreadnought and Day of Honor.
5. Some allusions to B'Elanna background were taken from "Pathways" ST: Voyager novel by Jeri Taylor.
To be continued....