Chapter Seventeen:
Abduction

At first, no one knew what to do. Everyone was still trapped in their astonishment over the abduction of the Captain and Lieutenant Travis off their own bridge. When the moment had faded, the first person to recover his senses was naturally Buck Wilmington. Buck bent over and picked up the combadge on the floor.

This was the Captain's, Buck thought. Mary still had hers. Against hope, he tapped his combadge. "Lieutenant Travis, do you read? Lieutenant Travis, come in."

There was only silence.

He stared at the remaining combadge briefly, the shock in his face visible as it was on every person presently on the bridge. After a short period of reflection, he returned to his science station and placed the combadge on the panel as if they would guide his actions somehow. His movement prompted the others back to mobility and they too, remembered their situation.

"Ezra, try to scan for the Captain and the Lieutenant's life signs on board the enemy vessel." Buck ordered, breaking the silence that threatened to overwhelm them all.

The security chief nodded mutely. Ezra, equally stunned by what had taken place, was quickly moving to recovery. Years of professionalism return to him in seconds and when it did, so did the tough Starfleet persona he wore like a shield for moments such as these. He hurried back to his station and quickly keyed his instructions into the panel. After a few moments, Buck saw his face as it twist into a grimace of defeat.

"I cannot locate them." He declared through gritted teeth frustrated at being so helpless. "The intruder's shields are too powerful for us to penetrate. I cannot even trace any life signs!"

"Calm down." Buck ordered, wanting no one to come unhinged at a time like this. However, he understood the man's anxiety. Buck could confess to feeling some of it himself, although in theory he was meant to be in better control of it than anyone else. Unfortunately, it was hard to keep the persona of first officer intact when his oldest friend had been spirited away right in front of his eyes.

"Commander," Ezra spoke up. "JD is signalling from the main bridge. He is requesting the status of the saucer separation."

"Inform JD to stand by."

"Commander," Ezra's voice cut though his thoughts to add anything further. "The enemy vessel is changing course."

Buck though quickly trying to decide what to do. Sensibly, it was prudent to return to Deep Space Five and call in reinforcements. The intruder had proved twice they were more than a match for Starfleet technology. It would be logical to wait for other starships with far more experienced captains to handle this situation instead of him. He was an untried first officer who had no business taking on the intruder himself. It endangered the ship and his crew mates. However, even as Buck held that thought in his mind, another voice made itself heard, a voice that had nothing to do with probabilities of failure, the limitations of his experience and the safety of logic.

For once, Buck agreed with it.

"Vin," he said finally and made peace with himself that whatever would happen, would happen. He would deal with the consequences later. "You will change our course and follow the intruder."

Yes!

Ezra Standish exclaimed inwardly. There had been a brief instance when he almost believed Buck would order them back to Federation space, abandoning the Captain and Lieutenant Travis. Ezra was grateful he was not forced to act in event of that possibility. He knew they were incapable of doing nothing while the intruder put more distance between their two ships. Unfortunately, whatever elation he had was short-lived when he noticed the sensor readings emerging from his continuous scan of the enemy ship. The power build up was unmistakable, even through its super efficient shield. The configuration of the warp field being generated was unmistakable.

"Commander, they're going to transwarp!"

No sooner than the words had left his lips, Ezra saw the explosion of power propelling the intruder's ship into nothingness. Within the blink of an eye, there was nothing behind them but empty space. There was a slight stillness in the blanket of stars behind the Maverick, when a final flare of light signalled the intruder's escape with its transwarp speed.

For the second time in the hour, no one could say anything. Each one of them knew the reality of the situation. The chance of catching up to the intruder now was next to impossible. Even forcing the ship to follow at maximum warp would leave them days behind in a matter of hours. Buck said nothing, yet his stony features seemed affected just the same. Julia was holding her hand against her lips, covering her open mouth. Ezra could not see Vin's face but he could see the slackening in the Officer of the Conn's posture, followed by his clenched fists against the helm console Ezra could understand his frustration.

"Commander, what do we do?" He asked finally, because no one else had the heart to. "Do we maintain pursuit?"

Buck did not speak. He seemed to be concentrating hard on trying to produce an answer. When he released a loud, weary sigh, he knew he had found none. "We will drop to Warp 8 and maintain pursuit. We can still track the enemy vessel by its transwarp signature."

"Sir," Ezra spoke softly. For the moment, he almost hesitated saying what he knew was his duty to say. Unfortunately, their personal feelings did not alter the circumstances of the present situation. He and Buck were Starfleet officers and at the moment, it appeared the senior officers as well. It was his duty to speak, no matter how much he disliked bringing this point to the first officer. "We may be able to track them but we will be capable of doing little else. We have no real hope of catching them."

Buck faced him. "I do not believe in hope Commander and I am well aware that the possibility of retrieving the Captain and Lieutenant Travis is slight. However, while we are able to track them, there is still a chance that the Captain may be able to assist his own escape. I intend to give him every chance to save himself. We will maintain this course."

Even Buck had to know how impossibly illogical that sounded, Ezra thought. However, he was pleased Buck had said that. As Buck made that declaration, Ezra saw that Buck's words gave hope to the rest of the bridge crew that the situation was not as bleak as it appeared.

"Understood Sir." Ezra answered.

Having said that, Buck walked towards the command chair. He stared at it for a moment, deciding that he did not feel inclined to sit in it even if the Captain was no longer aboard. Finally, he took his place at the first officer's seat instead. Protocol or not, he was not prepared to fill that role in any capacity other than what was necessary for the moment.

"Julia," Buck responded. He did not look at her when he spoke. The engineer was acting as communications officer while JD was on the saucer section. "Please inform JD we will be aborting the saucer separation. We're also standing down from red alert. We'll remain in yellow alert for the time being"

"Aye Sir," the engineer nodded slowly and then reacted to fulfil that order.

Buck was aware of the mood on the bridge at the moment. He wished more than ever that emotional distress caused by the Captain's and Lieutenant Travis capture could be kept to a minimum. "Ezra, get Alex up here. Inform her for the moment, she is acting first officer until we retrieve the Captain."

"Yes Sir." He replied briskly.

"Inform all departments I would like a status report within the next half hour and I need a meeting of the senior staff half hour following that."

"Yes Commander." He said quietly.

"Julia," Buck continued dispensing orders. "Send a priority one transmission to Starfleet Command, attention Admiral Wellington. Inform the admiral Captain Larabee and Lieutenant Travis have been abducted by the intruder. We are currently in pursuit and will be travelling beyond communication range for the next twelve hours. Relay to the admiral that we believe the intruder capable of monitoring all our transmissions and we will attempt to communicate when we are able."

"Yes Sir." Julia replied although she seemed somewhat confused by Buck's statement. "Sir," she spoke up after a moment. "I was not aware that our transmission were being monitored."

"Transmit the message as I have requested."

Ezra left her station and approached Buck. "Commander, I do not recall our communications being monitored." He asked the question in a softer voice because Julia had brought up a very valid statement. As security officer, he had not detected any signs of monitoring and he would be the only one who would be able to make the determination if there were.

"There is always that possibility. However, if the Admiral might form the opinion that we should return to Deep Space Five immediately, then twelve hours is all we have to get the Captain back."

"I see." He said mildly surprised. "I could be wrong here but does that not interpret as a lie?"

Buck cleared his throat and looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Unfortunately yes. I will pay for it later."

Hopefully when they got the Captain back.

The mood at the senior staff meeting was grim.

When he entered the briefing room, he noticed Ezra had assembled everyone already. There was no talking or hushed voices as everyone seemed to be deep in thought. The first officer took his usual place next to the Captain's chair. Buck tried to ignore the empty space at the head of the table. The unoccupied seat belonging to the Captain was a stark reminder of their loss. Despite their attempts to carry on as usual, he noticed everyone present inevitably shifting their gaze to and from that empty seat.

"As you undoubtedly know by now, the Captain and Lieutenant Travis were transported off the bridge during the course of our encounter with the intruder." Buck announced, deciding it was best to get all questions on the table immediately.

"Are they still alive?" Nathan Jackson asked first of all. His tone indicated he wanted no attempts at sparing their feelings. What he required and what Buck believed they all did, was the unabashed truth.

"I think they are." He answered honestly.

"I don't understand," JD exclaimed. "Why would they take the Captain and Lieutenant Travis? What possible reason could there be for their abduction?"

"I don't think they wanted Mary." Ezra replied. "When the transporter beam enveloped the Captain, she instinctively reached for him and was beamed away as well. I think taking her was an accident."

"I agree with Ezra," Buck added. "I believe that the object of the abduction was the Captain only. It was chance that Mary was taken as well. It's why her combadge wasn't left behind. They probably didn't compensate for her."

"Which is not a good situation in any case." Alex added further. "If they abducted the Captain, they must have some use for him. Unfortunately, they may not have the same for Lieutenant Travis. She may be a complication they are not prepared to deal with."

"You mean they might kill her?" Julia exclaimed, fearful for the blond woman with whom she had become fast friends since arriving on the ship.

No one liked the idea very much but what Alex said made a certain amount of sense. It was a truth no one preferred to believe but they had to face it and unfortunately, Buck could not discount it. "We have to consider that possibility."

"We've got to do something." Nathan said heatedly. "We can't just let those monsters kill them! I've got a full Sick Bay of people who can attest to their barbarity!"

"Nathan, we are all worried about Captain Larabee and Lieutenant Travis." Josiah intervened before the doctor became any more upset. "The Captain would not want us to come apart at a time like this."

His words placated Doctor Jackson momentarily but not for long, Buck estimated. The doctor became very personal about those he served with.

"Doctor I assure you, everything that can be done is being done." Ezra said gently. "We are keeping track of their transwarp signature and are maintaining the pursuit."

"I realise that," Nathan retorted. "However, is it not true that if the intruder does not drop to warp speed we may never catch up with them?"

"Doctor," Buck broke in. "We're maintaining pursuit and we will continue to do so until the situation changes. We're not abandoning the Captain or Mary under any circumstances. However, you have to understand there are limitations to what we can do. The bridge crew is doing its very best to resolve this situation."

"Why do they want the Captain though?" Vin mused, focusing on an issue no one had mentioned in all their discussions.

"We know the intruders' purpose into this quadrant is scientific," Buck explained. "Their behaviour certainly indicates that they are conducting intensive studies of some sort. They kidnapped people on Colony 1 for a number of hours and raided their computer core prior to its destruction. This was repeated on Deep Space Five although no one was abducted then. Their actions demonstrates their need for information, although to what end we cannot be sure. Before the Captain was taken, the intruder changed its attack strategy."

"I noticed that." Ezra declared, remembering the sequence of events. "One minute they were firing away at us and then suddenly, they sent that probe. It was like they realised that we might be worth closer evaluation."

"Exactly," Buck answered. "Once their probe gathered its information including the personnel records of everyone on board, it withdrew. Most likely to assess the data accumulated in order to plan their next action."

"Abducting the Captain." Josiah answered.

"And Lieutenant Travis as well." Julia reminded.

"This sounds even worse," the doctor confessed staring at Buck as an edge of horror crept into his face. "If everything you say is true, what in the name of hell are they doing to Chris and Mary?"

Not even Buck was capable of giving him an answer.

Chapter Eighteen:
Interogation

"Chris wake up." He heard her voice in his ear. It might have been the first time she had spoken or perhaps the last in a series of requests. Whatever the number, Chris Larabee's mind was still too foggy to tell the difference. As lucidity crept in on him like a stranger in the night, thoughts moved through his mind with little consistency or any reasonable sense.

For an absurd moment, he delighted in the sound of her voice against his ear. Chris savoured the light wisps of her melodic voice against his skin until he was alert for all the wrong reasons. He wondered if her breath was capable of having a similar effect on the rest of him. The moment lasted briefly. Suddenly, his last memories returned to him like icy water splashing against his face. His growing awareness brought to life a swirling torrent of images that spanned hours but were compressed into mere seconds of real time.

He sat up abruptly. An action he regretted doing almost immediately. His consciousness allowed the awareness of pain to announce itself as a most filthy headache. Instinctively he reached for his brow, trying to recall a time when he suffered a similar affliction with such equal intensity. Unfortunately, this was not the morning after a particularly lively bachelor party and this time his headache was definitely not self-inflicted.

Part of its cause seemed to be the powerful beam of the strobe light he found himself staring at overhead. He could look at it for no more than a second because it was bright enough to burn out his corneas if he was not careful. Dropping his gaze to the floor, Chris attempted to filter out the stark glare from his eyes so he could see more than free floating blobs of vibrant colour. Adjusting his vision to the lighting took a few seconds but when he was capable of seeing again, Chris Larabee found Mary staring at him with concern.

"I'm fine." He responded to put her concerns to rest. "Just a little out of it."

Once he was fully in command of his eyesight, Chris observed their new surroundings. He had been lying on a flat piece of foam in the corner of a white room. Not only were the walls this colour, but also the ceiling and the floor. It reminded Chris about Alex's theory that the intruders were deranged scientists conducting experiments. This room certainly belonged in a hospital. It reeked of antiseptic or something similar and brought to mind his stay at Starfleet Medical.

There were no windows or a door for that matter. The only distinguishable feature in the room appeared to be a small diamond shaped panel on one of the walls. He wondered momentarily if the panel activated a yet unseen way out of the room. He could hear no other sound other than their breathing. There was no familiar hum of ship engines, no footsteps against the deck nor any sounds that might indicate life beyond this prison. Despite himself, Chris found this quiet more disturbing than anything else that had happened so far.

The last thing he remembered was the beam of light approaching him on the bridge of the Maverick. There was a moment of understanding, when he realised he had been its target. Following that was a disjointed memory of Mary placing her hand on his shoulder, trying to help him. He had tried to warn her but the opportunity never came and they were both whisked away. The bridge disappeared around them both. After that, nothing coherent remained of the images. He remembered fingers around his arm and a sharp stab of pain, with Mary crying something vague in his ear. Instinctively, he rolled up a sleeve. Further up his arm, there was a slight blemish on his bicep that itched when he examined it.

"What did they do to us?" He managed to ask and winced at the dryness of his throat.

Mary brushed a strand of hair from her face. Most of her hair had unravelled from its tidy coiffeur. "They injected us with some form of sedative." She was trying to maintain her calm despite the nature of their predicament.

"It leaves a lot to be desired." He grumbled, massaging his aching head. "Have you seen them?"

"Not as yet," she shook her head in response. "I was unconscious myself until ten minutes ago. I woke up to find that you were still under."

Chris nodded, absorbing the information. "We have to get out of here." He declared stating the obvious. "I don't intend either of us becoming their guinea pigs."

"Excuse me?"

"Its bad reference," Chris said rising uneasily to his feet. He felt his head swim as he stood upright and Mary immediately got to her feet to help him.

"Their sedative apparently works better on men." She remarked.

Chris gave her a look. "I'm so honoured." Nevertheless, he did not resist when she took his arm. Together, they walked forward slowly. Chris felt himself become stronger as his limbs were forced to work. He headed towards the diamond shaped panel that appeared to be the only thing of interest inside the cell.

"Do you think they are still engaging the Maverick?"

"Probably." Chris replied. Inwardly, he hoped that this was not the case. The idea of his ship going to battle without him was more than he could stand. It was bad enough being spirited off his own bridge without having to face the possibility he could be spared the destruction faced by his crew. However, he was confident that Buck would maintain the ship's course to the Vikaris quasar and save the Maverick from that fate. "If Buck has any sense, he would be making tracks back to the quasar." He answered her question, knowing her thoughts were centred on the safety of her son.

"You don't think he would try to rescue us?"

"He might." Chris never really considered the idea because Buck's first priority ought to be the ship not two lives out of more than a thousand. "Although I doubt his chances are very good. We are inaccessible to a rescue for any number of reasons. If they've kicked in transwarp, there's no chance the Maverick could keep up."

"I see." She answered softly.

Chris met her gaze and then realised that Mary did not appear to be as dispassionate as usual. Was he actually seeing some semblance of fear in her eyes? It was easy to forget that under all that Vulcan tradition, was still a human being capable of feeling a gamut of emotions. He realised that she needed to hear something positive. "It will be alright, Lieutenant." He smiled encouragingly. "Don't you trust my ingenuity to get us out of this?"

"If you're attempting to be funny, it's not working."

"See if you get a good report from me at your next evaluation." He muttered, leaning over the panel.

"Captain," she looked at him. "If it were possible for either of us were to see another evaluation, I would not be overly concerned at its content."

"Touché." Chris replied. He did not look at her as he was more focussed on the panel on the wall. "What do you make of this?"

Mary leaned in for a closer look herself. "I don't know. I think it's an activation pad of some kind but I'm no engineer."

"This is a pretty good cell they've got us in." Chris commented, taking his attention away from the panel. "I guess they must have transported us in here, since I don't see any doors or openings we could have been brought through."

"It is a feasible way to ensure security," Mary pointed out. "As transport appears to be the only method of entry or here, they can be assured their prisoners won't be escaping."

"Unfortunately for us." Chris mumbled under his breath. He could not say he admired their captor's efficiency as she did. In fact, he wondered if she had any idea how much trouble they were in at all. Chris could not even begin to guess why the intruder had captured him. Why take him specifically? Although he had not voiced it to her, he knew Mary's presence here was a mistake. After all, the beam had been coming towards him. She had inadvertently allowed herself to be taken when she attempted to help him.

"It looks like we have no choice but to wait until they are ready to see us." She spoke, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better." Chris commented.

"I could lie but I don't think that you'd be any better off."

He wondered if she meant to be smug or was it just typical Vulcan superiority at being the more realistic of them both at their situation. In either case, he did not wish to address the point at the moment. Chris was becoming increasingly irritated at their vulnerable position nor did he like being buried in this room with no way out.

"There must be some way out of this place." He replied walking alongside the walls. "Oxygen must come in here for us to breathe."

"True." Mary answered. "However, the vent through which it is being filtered may not be of a size to help us."

"Show a little optimism will you?" Chris looked over his shoulder at her.

"I rather remain realistic."

"Whatever you say," he sighed deciding that he did not want to argue with her. She would probably win anyway.

Instead, he continued his examination of the walls. He ran his fingers against its surface and felt it was cold and smooth. There was a clinical efficiency to it all that disturbed him although he could not say why. The finish on them was flawless. Tapping against it, he decided it was made of some kind of metal but could detect no seams or rivets that might indicate how it was held together. When the wall reached his feet, it merely curved to form the floor. It almost appeared as if someone gouged the shape of this room from a solid block. If anything, that discovery added to his rising claustrophobia.

"This is a near perfect cell." Chris found himself forced to admit. "There is no way out unless you can tear your way through solid steel or whatever this construction material is."

Mary was staring at the panel and did not answer. Somehow, she knew their escape lay behind this small diamond shaped device. She knew that if she could deduce its purpose, she could give the Captain the answer he so desperately needed. As she glanced at him periodically, Mary noticed he was pacing the wall like a trapped sehlat. His growing anxiety was obvious although she had no idea what to say to him that could possibly ease his apprehension.

Not unless she understood the function of this device.

Suddenly, it came alive before her and emanated a dull white glow.

"Captain." She called out. "Come look at this."

"What is it?" Chris asked and turned towards her.

He had not taken a few steps forward when suddenly, in the centre of a room that familiar beam of blue light shimmered to life around him. Chris was barely conscious of it being around him before it disappeared taking the captain with him.

"Chris!" She cried out, unable to keep her fear from him out of voice or mind. It was however a futile gesture.

He was gone and she was alone.

In the blink of an eye, Chris Larabee was somewhere else.

He tried to move his head and found he could not. His head was being held down. Instinctively, he tried to move his hands and found they too were similarly strapped tightly. He also became aware at this point that he was naked because the binders securing his limbs were metal and as cold as the temperature in the room. He tried to ignore the cold since his bare skin was pressed hard against the metal table to which he was secured.

He tried to crane his neck sideways to get a better look of where he was, but was unable to do so as he felt something cold pressing hard against his temple. After a number of futile attempts at trying to break free, Chris rested back on the table and observed what he could of his environment. Judging from his angle of perception, he realised that the table he was strapped to was being propped at an angle.

Don't panic, Chris. He told himself. It's not as bad as it looks.

An inner voice responded almost immediately.

It sure as hell looks as bad as it seems.

Chris took a deep breath and forced away such thoughts. At the same time, he tried not to remember anything about his discussions with Buck regarding scientific experimentation and human guinea pigs. Instead he focussed his attention on something else and tried to remember if they had drugged him in order to unclothed him without resistance. Although he nearly sprained a muscle doing it, Chris craned his neck to see if there was a fresh hypo mark on his arm. Despite being unable to see his upper bicep very well from this angle, there did not appear to be one.

He remained there for some time and Chris wondered if this interlude was some kind of interrogation technique. Lesser-willed people could break under such tactics since waiting could be an effective method of torture. Therefore, instead of allowing the time to affect him, he concentrated on seeing what he could of this new place.

Above him was a powerful strobe light that beamed directly into his eyes, making it impossible to see more than a few feet beyond his position. The rest of the room was dark but he realised if he concentrated hard enough, he could hear movement. Although difficult to define at first, he was soon able to distinguish the sound of feet against the floor, hushed voices using words he could not understand in a language he did not know. He kept the panic away from his mind, telling himself it was possible because Vulcans did it all the time. Thinking about Vulcans inadvertently brought his focus to Mary. Did they have her in a room like this as well? He hoped not. Thinking of her under similar circumstances infuriated him.

His surroundings however, did seem incredibly cliqued. It was a perfectly unimaginative representation of the classic interrogation room. If he was not the victim, it could have almost been laughable. These people could take lessons from the Cardassians or the Romulans. Now they knew how to scare the hell out of you before they actually got to the interrogation. Klingons had no idea of course. Their methods of torture were so brutal that they were lucky if the victim survived much less chose to impart any useful information. The Borg did not need to torture. They just assimilated you so whatever was kept in your mind became theirs to use anyway. The same went for the Jem Haddar who did not need to interrogate because their Shapeshifter masters knew your secrets before you did.

"Captain Larabee." A voice spoke out of the darkness.

Chris tried not to show the sudden sound surprised him. The voice sounded close but he could not see anyone. "It's about time someone showed up, I was starting to feel somewhat unloved."

"Your attempts at humour will avail you nothing."

"That's not the first time I've heard that today." He remarked softly wondering if they had been listening into his conversation with Mary during their incarceration. "In that case, I'll just forgo the formalities and ask what the hell am I doing here."

"You are here to service us." It responded with an edge of ice indicating it did not approve nor like his tone of voice.

Chris blinked at those words. They sounded Borg. It was impossible. He had seen parts of their ship and nothing about this felt like a Borg situation. Was it mere coincidence? There seemed to be only one way to find out. "Are you Borg?"

"We are not the Borg Collective." The voice answered sharply. If he could have seen the speaker, Chris was sure that the person would be bristling with annoyance. Everything indicated that it disliked the reference intensely.

"You sound like them." He declared, deciding to probe deeper into that aversion. It was the only avenue of inquiry he had at the moment.

There was a slight pause. "We have brought you here for a reason Captain. You can either co-operate with us or we can take the information straight from your mind, possibly damaging you in the process. We had hoped you would be wise enough to choose the latter."

"Quid pro quo." Chris retorted. "Since you've raided my ship's computer banks, I'm sure you know what that means. Something for something. I may choose to be co-operative if you answer some questions of my own."

"You are hardly in a position to be difficult Captain."

The word made Chris angry but for the moment, he controlled it. They were correct. He was hardly in the position to make demands since they had the upper hand but the fact they needed something of him, gave Chris a bargaining point. He wished he could see them. It was difficult to maintain this position when he had no idea with whom he was dealing with. "Perhaps not but kill me and what I know dies with me and it looks to me like you've been searching for some time already."

"What do you know of our needs?" The voice snorted in obvious contempt. "You are a minor species, born the only inhabited world of a minor star system. At the moment, your only worth to us is the information you can provide. Do not assume that we need you in any way."

"And yet you went to all this trouble to acquire me." Chris said with a hint of sarcasm. "As I understand it, that's hardly an indication I am expendable."

"It is not your place to understand, merely to furnish us with what we require." The voice retorted vehemently becoming impatient with the whole process.

"Look," Chris said becoming a little annoyed himself. "I am Captain Chris Larabee of the USS Maverick, service number 378072. That is all I am required to say to you. If you wish to know anything further, I suggest you be a little more flexible instead of engaging me in this verbal joust of superiority."

"We are superior in every way." The voice returned angrily. "You are nothing to us. Just a waste of flesh in a galaxy populated by waste. You are here to service us and that is all the consideration you deserve."

He was playing a dangerous game with them and he knew it. However, he was not about to compromise in any way. This race had butchered hundreds of people and laid to waste Federation colonies without thought or reservation. He was not about to inadvertently help them unless he was given a clearer understanding of the situation. Taking a deep breath, he let out a sigh of defiance and spoke slowly. "Then we have nothing more to discuss."

He had less than a second to regret those brave words before his captors retaliated. Chris was surprised by a sharp jolt of energy that surged through his body like a nothing he had ever experienced. Its intensity was so powerful he jerked on the table like a fish gasping for its last breath on the floor of a boat somewhere. The pain alerted every nerve in every corner of his body, causing him to stiffen with excruciating pain. He tried not to cry out because his pride would not allow him to display such vulnerability before the enemy. However, his pride was soon eroded in the wake of such exquisite agony nothing could contain the pain that shredded his resolve apart.

Chris could feel his teeth digging into the skin of his lips and his fingernails tearing into the softness of his clenched palms. He could smell the burning of flesh in his nostrils and wondered how much he could endure. The violence of the charge caused him to salivate, trickles of fluid ran down his chin and then onto his chest without his even noticing it. The razor like pain stabbed him with the clarity of a thousand sharp knives. Chris was quickly pulled into a whirlpool of such agony he did not know anything beyond the white-hot pain piercing through his mind.

He didn't even notice when he started screaming.

Now Mary felt like the one who was pacing like a trapped sehlat.

She waited patiently for several hours, waiting for them to return the Captain. When he had first been taken she had almost expected them to spirit her away as well. However, after a certain amount of time passed, Mary become less certain of that expectation. Finally, she found herself folding her legs beneath and sitting down to meditate in order to calm the fears that were threatening to overwhelm her. Occasionally, she would glance at the panel wondering if she ought to tackle the task of learning what function it played. The only reason she had not done so yet was the concern that if it was a means of escape, she would have to do it without the Captain.

She could not leave without him.

He had been gone almost into his fifth hour when she suddenly heard the familiar hum of the transporter device. Once again, she realised that the panel had illuminated during the process and it confirmed her suspicion that the panel was somehow connected to their matter teleportation device. Chris appeared on the floor of the cell, stark naked. His clothes appeared shortly after. Even as she scrambled towards him, she saw the deep purple welts across his back. He was half-conscious and judging by the amount of bruising on his body, she estimated he was in considerable pain.

"Chris," she hurried towards him. "Chris, talk to me!"

He did not answer her which only served to heighten her panic even more. He was lying on his stomach, very still and for a moment Mary believed the worst. However, as she rolled him over, she noticed his chest rising and falling somewhat raggedly. At least he was still alive. There was blood running down his chin from where a lip was bitten. Her stomach hollowed at the reason for that and knew then that he had been subjected to torture. The bruises on him seemed to be the result of some type of low power energy discharge. Phasers set on low power and close range could cause similar bruising although the pain was meant to be extreme.

She took his head on her lap and for a moment, Mary was overcome with a deep sense of anger at what had been done to him. However, this was not the time for anger. He needed tenderness at this moment and she was determined to provide it. Mary let his head rest on her lap for a long while, allowing him to rest after his ordeal. There was no reason to wake him when it seemed they were not going anywhere. Any ideas she had about escape would simply have to wait until he was better.

Mary used the sleeve of her dress to clean the blood off his face, using unusual tenderness she would normally have reserved for William alone. It was not lost on her the concern she had for Chris Larabee. Despite herself, Mary could no longer deny her regard for him was more than just as her captain. She admired the way he had reached out to her son and gave the boy the guidance she was unable to provide. Most humans found Vulcan children difficult to cope with but Chris never seemed to have that trouble with William or Billy as he was more accustomed to referring to her child.

"Oh I feel terrible."

His voice snapped her out of her reverie.

She looked down and saw that he was conscious if not somewhat disorientated.

"Don't move Chris," she said gently. "You need to rest."

"No arguments from me." He whispered as he opened her eyes and looked into her face. "Now there's a sight worth waking up to."

Mary was almost tempted to smile. "Well, you are starting to feel a little better I see."

"Not much." He grumbled, trying to shift to a more comfortable position on her lap. "Apparently, my overwhelming charm was lost on them."

It never ceased to surprise them the arrogance of human males and their ability to make jokes during the most dire circumstances. Chris Larabee, as she was starting to realise, was a master at both those traits. "I can't imagine that."

He met her gaze at that remarked and smiled at her. "I see I need to work on it."

Suddenly, his hand flew to his chest and he raised his neck long enough to see that he was still naked. The realisation motivated him to move like no other.

"Chris, you should remain still..."

"Lieutenant," he said trying to maintain as much dignity as a man in the nude could possibly do. "A captain needs to maintain some degree of privacy and at the moment, I am feeling somewhat exposed."

Mary turned her back on him, respecting that need although it was somewhat redundant now and allowed him to get dressed without being observed. She did not need to look since what she had seen of him was impressive but there was no need for him to know that.

"Captain, were you able to see our captors?" She asked still keeping her eyes averted.

"No," he shook his head. "They were hidden in the darkness for most of the interrogation. They had me hooked up to a device that discharged low level energy bursts. No permanent damage I suspect, but it hurts like hell."

"What information did they want?"

"Nothing they would make specific and I must admit I was a little too cocky for my own good." He said trying to stifle a groan of a pain as he slipped his trousers on. "Okay, I'm partially decent."

She turned around and quickly remarked. "Captain, perhaps you should try being not so charming next time."

"I'll keep that in mind during the next round." He replied reaching down for his grey shirt.

"The next round?" Her brow rose immediately in concern.

"I assume that there will be one considering I gave them nothing during the first." Chris replied. What he did not add was their warning to him during his last moments of consciousness. They had made it extremely plain to him that while they had not intended to take Mary hostage, they would not hesitate to use her if it would ensure his cooperation.

Chris did not intend to allow that under any circumstances. Somehow, he was going to have to come up with a new plan.

Chapter Nineteen:
The First

She watched him sleep and knew he was not telling her everything.

In the past few hours, it seemed to her that she was learning more and more about him with each passing moment. When had the time come that he had become more than captain to her and she more to him than just his protocol officer? Mary could not tell but the barrier between them was like a veil whose substance was diminishing as gradually as the shifting of ocean tides. Perhaps it was their entrapment together that initiated this bond between them like two animals sharing the same cage.

Mary could not say for certain but even as he slept, she could feel him strongly. In all her life, she had only shared a mental link with one other person so acutely and he was now dead. Syan could always sense the feelings inside her no matter whether where he was. She remembered with a flash of intense pain the moment she knew he died. His death cry had been ripped through her mind as the Borg destroyed him and his ship. To this day, the loss of his katra was something Mary was unable to fathom. Vulcan souls were meant to be preserved, to take their place with all the others in the place of keeping, not to be discarded to the four winds like a mist. Residues of his self remained within her but the absolute loss of his living soul was almost as devastating as losing his physical being.

Her link with Chris was not like this. She was human and the mental links created in her mind because of the mind meld between herself and a full blooded Vulcan still remained. Only a strong emotional attachment could reactivate them and she could not feel Chris from a distance because he simply did not possess the telepathy to maintain such link. However, when he was near, his emotions were the proverbial open book to her. Prior to their incarceration, her link to him was vague. She sensed something in his regard for her but nothing Mary could define clearly. Now it was much stronger because his concern for her had escalated and the torture had weakened him considerably. The intensity of his emotions surprised her and she wondered what she had done to inspire such passion.

Although she could not read his mind but rather sense his emotions, Mary became certain Chris was protecting her. She sensed his duplicity earlier and knew he had held something back when they had spoken of his interrogation. The fear she sensed in him was strong but it was not fear for himself. Chris was afraid for her life and her safety. It did not require any great leaps in logic to understand why that was. Undoubtedly, their captors had threatened her life in exchange for his cooperation. She knew nothing short of death could allow him to voluntarily harm any member of his crew but in her case, Mary knew Chris's dedication to duty and his feelings for her could become conflicted.

Humans could be so illogical at times.

The Vulcan philosophy she had been forced to adopt, declared it would be sensible to allow her to die. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. However, Chris was not Vulcan, he was human and found it extremely difficult to take this course of action because their emotions interfered with the decision. Mary believed when the time came for Chris do so he would be unable to make that choice because he would be hampered by his feelings for her. Of course, he had not spoken of it. She never expected he would. However, she refused to allow him to sacrifice himself and possibly the Federation because of her. The Starfleet officer that she was did not find such an action acceptable.

Mary rose to her feet quietly and walked towards the panel. For a long moment, she merely stared at it, wondering if it was wise to proceed any further. She knew nothing about this cell and the surveillance methods employed by their captors. They could be watching her now and she did not want to provoke them into hurting the Captain any more than they had. She did not want him to pay for her misjudgement.

As it was, she was now a liability to him. Her very presence made it impossible for him to make a decision without taking her welfare into account. If she was capable of being furious at herself now, Mary would be. What had possessed her to reach for him when the transporter beam enveloped him? Mary was not accustomed to impulse and knew the motivations behind her attempt were for purely personal reasons. She had allowed her emotions to get the better of her and now he was paying for the price.

One way or another, she would find a way out of this cell.

Mary touched the panel. It did not react. For a moment, she considered how she would proceed. She had been brushing up on her engineering skills and while she would never have Julia's inborn expertise or Alex's vast scientific knowledge, she had been on Vulcan long enough to learn quickly. Being surrounded by super intelligent people made it necessary for her to refine her ability to commit a great deal of information to memory upon first reading.

She had no tools to work with and allowed her hand to begin a more physical examination of the panel now that she knew it was not meant to be accessed from inside the cell. She let her fingers slide across the slanted edges, testing the seams for weakness. After a few moments, she found a weak point and paused as she decided what to do next. Taking stock of her options for a short time, Mary reached for one of the hair clips holding her hair out of her face. It was a simple metal clip she had purchased in one of the shops in Jupiter Station. It did not look very formidable but it was definitely strong. In any case, she had little choice in the matter and had to be content with it. She dug its edge into the crack at the base of the panel so that she could pry it open. Mary forced it down gently, adding more and more pressure. It was a few seconds before her efforts displayed any progress when she saw the crack widen and become more visible. She was almost there.....

Suddenly the edge snapped.

The abrupt break propelled the jagged edge of the rest of the clip straight into her hand before she could even react to pull it away. It buried itself deep within her skin with such force and rapidity that the pain took her by surprise before she had a chance to deal it. Instinctively, she let out a soft cry of pain.

Chris sat up immediately. "Mary?"

She winced in annoyance at having woken him and nursed her bleeding hand while she examined the injury. The broken half of the clip had embedded itself in the flesh below her knuckles. She let herself dropped to the floor as she took a closer look. "I'm fine, I just hurt myself a little." She answered trying to maintain her dignity in such a ridiculous situation.

Chris was by her side in an instant. "Let me see."

"It is superficial." She declared, making it known she did not require assistance.

Chris saw a heavy rivulet of red fluid snaking down her wrist despite her best attempts to stem its flow. "It does not look superficial to me Lieutenant." He made particular emphasis on that last word to indicate his determination in this matter.

Unfortunately, she had to concede to his rank and extended her hand forward reluctantly. Chris took her hand gently and saw the metal clip still protruding from her flesh.

She did not answer because he was correct. It was not.

"It does however, look worse than it is. Take my arm with your good hand."

"Why?" She asked suspiciously.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Are you always so adversarial with your commanding officers?"

"Just you."

"You must be in pain," he smiled faintly. "You're making a joke."

Without saying anything else, he yanked the clip out of the wound before she had time to react. Her nails dug into his arm in a spasm of pain and she let out another cry which cut through him just hearing it. He dropped the broken hair clip onto the floor and wiped her blood on his sleeve. The blood flow from the wound seemed heavier now the obstruction had been removed. Quickly, he tore a small strip of material from his tunic.

"What were you doing? No let me guess, you were trying to get that panel open?"

"I refuse to comment on the grounds I will incriminate myself." She smiled wryly watching him shape the material into a makeshift bandage for her hand.

"Lieutenant, while I appreciate your diligence, perhaps waiting for me might have been a good idea."

"How so?" She looked at him. "I know I'm not an engineer but it could not hurt just to take a look."

"I agree," he nodded as he secured the material with a tight knot. "However, I would rather you not skewer yourself in the process. One of us in bad shape is enough."

"I wanted to get us out of here."

Something in the tone of her voice made him look up when she said that. Her eyes, normally devoid of emotion, seemed softer and more fluid. "You have placed yourself in enough danger because of me, Chris."

Chris liked how it sounded when she said his name, especially with a tone that indicated she felt more for him than he had previously thought. He was aware they had crossed some invisible boundary seldom defined by men and women until left long behind. At that moment, he understood that she cared and it was because he was more than just her captain. He realised her concern was far more personal and intimate. For a moment, he did not know what to say and remained silent. Her face softened and Chris saw he need not speak at all because she knew the unspoken feelings he had for her.

He reached for her and placed a gentle hand against her cheek. Mary did not move away, neither did she speak. Instead, she raised her hand and placed her palm across his. Everything that needed to be said between them was established by that simple gesture of intimacy. Almost as if they knew what was taking place, Chris saw Mary's eyes widen. He looked behind him and saw the transport beam in the middle of the room, seeking him out again. His gaze returned to her before they spirited him away again.

"I'll be alright." He said confidently and knew that most of it was for her benefit.

Mary's eyes started to well with emotion and her lips started to quiver as she saw the beam come towards him. "I'll keep trying to get us out of here."

"I know." He answered finally before the beam reached him and took him out of the room.

Once he was gone, Mary blinked, trying to come to grips with this ache in her heart and the terrible fear she felt. She sat there for a moment, trying not to worry about him and concentrate on what she had promised before he was taken from her. A short time later, she rose to her feet and faced the panel again with icy determination in her face.

"Let's do this again." She whispered once and then set to work.

He was in the same interrogation room although this time, he was fully clothed. Like before, he could not see his interrogators but he could hear them in the room, whispering amongst themselves as they decided his fate. Chris knew in no uncertain terms they would harm Mary if he was not more co-operative and decided he was going to have to approach this situation from another angle. As much as he disliked doing it, he was going to have to play ball to gain more information about them.

"Captain Larabee, we trust you are more willing to talk after our previous meeting?" The same voice boomed in his ears again.

"I don't respond well to extortion," Chris admitted. "However, it looks like I don't have much of a choice to be stubborn."

"We are glad that you understand your situation. It would be regretful if we had to resort to more extreme measures."

Chris was glad he would not find out what exactly those measures were. He was still trying to recover from the previous ones and he needed to be in somewhat decent shape to effect any kind of escape. "I don't doubt you will use those measures on my Protocol Officer if I don't obey. That is how well I understand the situation."

"She is here to service our needs Captain, not yours."

"Whatever," Chris said abruptly. "Since you have taken all this trouble to make me capitulate, you mind telling me what it is you want to know?"

There was a momentary pause before a response came. Chris strained his eyes to look into the darkness to see a face to which he could attach that voice. Unfortunately, he could see no one. He wondered what reason was there for such secrecy. It was not as if he were in any position to do them any harm if he knew what they looked like.

"As you have already guessed Captain, we were responsible for the destruction of your colonies along the border of your territorial space."

Hearing them admit it sickened him to his stomach while at the same time firing his anger. However, he restrained his feelings and continued listening quietly.

"We required information about your Federation but found the information retrieval unit on the colonies inadequate for our needs. We took live specimens and similarly found them lacking as they were unable to provide us with what we required. We made these attempts on several colonies and erased all evidence of our presence in our departure."

"Not all evidence." Chris declared.

"We are here on a mission of utmost urgency to our race and were not concerned with the welfare of an unimportant species."

Once again, Chris controlled his temper. "So you went to Deep Space Five and downloaded their computer core."

"You are correct. Fortunately, the data stored in the station's retrieval unit was far more comprehensive and did give some us valuable insight on how to proceed with the next part of our investigation."

"I don't know what use I can be to you if you've already downloaded a space station's computer core. It probably contains more information then I will ever know."

Suddenly, Chris found that despite the situation, he was extremely interested to know what it was these intruders wanted of him and the Federation.

"The computer core contains factual data which is not what we desire." The voice answered quickly. "We have come to investigate the two incidents in which your Federation has encountered the species known as the Borg Collective."

Now Chris was really surprised. "You want to know about our encounters with the Borg?" He exclaimed, unable to hide his shock. "Why?"

"As far as we know, no species of inferior technology has ever defeated the Collective and yet your Federation has done so twice."

"I wouldn't say defeated. In each encounter we suffered devastating losses." Chris had no trouble revealing this to his captors. If they had taken the contents of Deep Space Five's computer core then he was not telling them anything they did not already know.

"Yet they were nonetheless defeated." The speaker continued. "That is unprecedented and we wish to know how you accomplished this."

"Mostly luck and thanks to some innovative thinking by our starship commanders."

"Yes," the voice agreed. "In particular, the human known as Jean Luc Picard. A Federation starship Captain."

There was an ominous way about the manner in which they said Picard's name that immediately sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Suddenly it hit him.

The realisation came alive with such inspiration that Chris was struck by the force of his discovery. In an instant, he understood why the intruder had gone to the trouble of taking him alive. They had responded to the broadcast he had sent across space to lure them, not because discovery was contrary to their purposes in this quadrant. It was because he had sent the signal.

Captain Chris Larabee of the USS Maverick.

They did not want a human specimen. They wanted a starship captain, like the one responsible for the Borg destruction at Wolf 359 and then at the Battle of Sector 001.  He could be wrong, it would not be the first time but Chris refused to believe he was incorrect. With instinct he relied upon more steadfastly than logic, he was certain of the truth he just uncovered but he had to put his theory to the test.

"You think because I am a starship captain, I can show you how to defeat the Borg?"

"We do not need your assistance to defeat the Soulless Ones!" The voice snapped angrily. "We are here on a scientific study to understand how such a primitive culture can fend off the might of the Borg! Our interest if merely for the purpose of study!"

Somehow that protest appeared to be just a little too vehement to be simply arbitrary, Chris decided. "I may be a member of a primitive culture but I'm no fool. If your interest was purely scientific you wouldn't have gone to the lengths you have done to accumulate your data. My officers and I deduced some time ago there was a measure of desperation to your actions."

As responding to their unseen anger at his insolence, his body spasmed with pain as he felt the energy discharge striking his body from the table beneath him. Fortunately after being tortured for hours previously, Chris had developed a small amount of endurance to it. While it hurt beyond description, he found he was able to recover faster than before. He knew his words had struck a nerve with them because they had retaliated like children throwing a temper tantrum.

"Okay, since you feel that strongly about it, we won't mention desperation." Chris managed to say after a moment. "However, I'm afraid I can't help you. Jean Luc Picard was able to defeat the Borg because they assimilated him. His crew was able to retrieve him. Fortunately, once the connection to the Collective was severed, the nanoprobes inside him were destroyed and his human cells were able to reassert themselves. The experience allowed him certain insights into the nature of the Borg, insights he was able to use to defeat them."

"You are lying." He heard the voice respond in anger. "Their consciousness is vast and insight or not, they would have been able to circumvent what little knowledge he had of them! Your understand is simplistic and in error."

"We have a saying in our culture. To know your enemy is to know how to defeat him. Jean-Luc Picard knew his enemy," he stated firmly. "He knew his enemy well enough to outwit them. If you have come looking for a super weapon, I'm afraid you are going to be disappointed. The Borg was defeated with nothing more than one man's determination and insight."

Chris waited for a response but none came. Although he had only heard one voice, he was certain that there were more individuals in the room with him. While not speaking to him, he heard them conferring amongst themselves, trying to decide whether or not they believed him. In the meantime, he took the chance to go over what he learned so far. These intruders were deathly afraid of the Borg but Chris could not understand why. Their technology proved they could be more than a match for the Borg if necessary. Even if they could not completely defeat the Collective, they had enough technology to fend off any Borg invasion.

"Picard was the human responsible for destroying the First." The voice stated after a long while.

"The First?" He asked confused.

"The First from whom the Collective originate. That who brings order from chaos."

For a moment, he could not understand to whom they were referring and then it came to him. Chris had read Jean-Luc Picard's log report of his encounter with the Borg following the failed invasion of Earth. It was an unusual story involving time travel and Zefram Cochrane. Chris had been more interested in Picard's impression of the legendary inventor to take much notice of the rest of the report. However, it did reveal the Borg had a central leader previously unknown to the Federation.

"You mean the Borg Queen." He replied.

"The First."

"You keep calling her the First." Chris asked. "Of what is she exactly the first?"

There was another pause. "She is the first Borg. The original is who began the assimilation process. It was she who injected the first microprobes into another that began the race. She who had independent will where none was meant to be."

"You know much about the Borg." He responded. "Perhaps we could share our knowledge  It's obvious that they are your enemy. We can help each other. I do not know what exactly you are hoping for by interrogating me but if I knew what you were searching for I am sure we can find an answer."

"We need no assistance from the likes of you. You are not a true life form, only the C'Kaia are alive!" The voice shouted angrily but Chris suspected this response was mainly borne out of the realisation his words rang true.

"C'Kaia." Chris mused. "Is that your species?"

"The C'Kaia are the natural masters of this galaxy. It is our right to rule and purge the systems of all inferior forms of life."

Chris had heard this so many times from so many would be conquerors that it was almost corny. Did they never learn anything different to say or was there some universal manual through which they obtained their litany of tedious rhetoric?

"A difficult position to take considering the Borg are the most powerful species we have yet to encounter. I am certain that they would object to your claim. You are biological like I am biological and we all fodder for assimilation if we don't help each other."

"The Borg is an accident! Like all accidents they will be destroyed eventually."

"They are not accidents and it will take far more than arrogance to destroy them. It will take co-operation and mutual understanding." Chris stated. He knew he had to try and reach them somehow. If the C'Kaia considered the Borg enough threat, perhaps they would yield enough to acknowledge that they needed assistance, even from an inferior specimen like him.

"We require no cooperation from you or your kind." The C'Kaia said icily. "The Borg will be destroyed. Without the First, they are significantly weakened and we will make them do our bidding as they were always meant to. We will not make the same mistake twice."

"The same mistake?" Chris whispered. Suddenly, he had a very bad feeling about all this.

"Yes, you foolish human." The C'Kaia snorted with contempt. "It is we who created the First and we who found the telepath whom you know as the Borg Queen."

Chapter Twenty:
Escape

Mary lost track of time after she began work on the panel. Ironically, the only tool she possessed that could sufficiently pry open the panel was still the damaged hair clip. Mary retrieved the clip from where it had fallen and resumed her efforts to open the panel since she had little choice in the matter. Initially, she was concerned her tampering with the device would incite the wrath of their captor but as her work progressed, no such action appeared forthcoming. If anything, it confirmed that she and the captain were not being kept under close watch. Obviously, their captors did not believe they were capable of escaping from such an impregnable cell.

After a length of time coaxing the panel loose and being careful not to harm herself further, the diamond shape cover popped off with a final creak of protest. It fell on the floor and skittered across the room. For a minute, Mary remained frozen wondering if her success would bring any attention from their guards. Once again, no such action had arisen and she continued working.

The neat diamond shaped hole that was left in the wake of the panel's removal, revealed a series of alien circuits and sophisticated isolinear chips. These were probably generations ahead in design to anything Starfleet had ever envisioned. For a long while she merely stared at the mechanism, trying to ascertain if there was a common frame of reference to the layout of circuits, relays and chips. She was no engineer but she had basic engineering knowledge, a required course at the Academy, not to mention what she had been studying since coming on board the Maverick. She studied the circuits carefully, fully aware that everything depended on her being able to make the mechanism work for her.

They had to get out of here. Nothing could be done to affect their escape while they were trapped inside this tomb. A transporter mechanism must operate from this point because the panel came alive each time the Captain was taken. Mary considered the possibility that their captors must have placed safeguards to prevent tampering such as this. She did not see any such devices. However, she was starting to hypothesise that her captors might be arrogant enough to believe that their technology was far too superior to be tampered by an inferior species. Then again, they were a highly specialised race, who did not appear to keep prisoners for any length of time. In either case, there was nothing to do but try.

Once she began testing the individual components of the mechanism, time whirled by with frightening speed. Slowly, her keen intellect began grasping the concepts of the mechanism. Her eyes began seeing abstract comparisons with Federation transporters. In a rudimentary way, the process was the same. It was easy to visualise and hypothesise what each component might do. Mary found herself stymied by the problem of accessing its function as its instructions were not meant to originate from this location. However, after giving much thought to it, an idea formed in her head.

She was still wearing her combadge. It had not been removed because their captors saw no reason to do so. The combadge had only a finite range and she did not doubt the Maverick was far behind them by now. It was certainly beyond the range of the combadge to be useful as a communication device to signal for help. However, in itself it did contain various components that could be useful as an interface to the circuits and chips within the alien mechanism.

The combadge also contained a universal translator and by definition, was capable of extrapolating all types of language forms into an understandable medium. It would not take much to alter its programming to enable it communicate in a numerical form that was the most universal language of all. Once that was accomplished, the combadge could in essence, 'speak' to the alien technology and she could feed it instructions.

It took another hour of lying out circuits and attaching the tiny wires to the inside of the transporter panel before Mary could make the attempt. She had wanted to wait for the captain's return but knew logically, that was ill advised. If they were to return him to his cell, all they would need to do was activate the transporter panel and discover what she had done. The combadge hung limply out of the opening. Only its wires connected it to the circuitry inside the opening. Tapping it gently, she hoped the interface would work and that both devices could speak to each other.

"Initiate transport." She said coolly. The combadge should be translating those words into a numerical form and instructing the alien transporter to comply.

There was no response.

"Initiate transport." Mary spoke again, trying not to let her failure overwhelm her with disappointment. "Now."

As if it could understand her inflections, she snorted to herself.

Suddenly, the beam appeared in the room. As before it was difficult to see under the power of the strobe, but she saw the air before her shimmer with energy and knew that the beam was there. It approached her quickly and consumed her as readily as it had done the captain. Mary closed her eyes as she saw the world in front of her disappear...

...and reappear a second later, changing shape and form significantly.

The room was slightly larger than their cell but not much more. Its walls were a metallic grey that was much kinder to her eyes after the contrasting white walls of their cells. The illumination inside the room was dim and while she could see well enough, did not leave much for detail. Fortunately, there was no one inside with her although she assumed there had to be guards posted outside the door at the corner of the room. Mary could not imagine any race being so incompetent. It would unwise to leave the room that way and she scanned the place for an alternate exit. At the base of one wall was a small metal grate, probably a ventilation shaft. It was not the most effective means of travel but she decided it would be better than using the doors and risk being caught, if there were indeed sentries posted outside.

Before that however, she took a moment to conduct a quick reconnaissance. As of yet, neither she nor Chris had ever seen their captors and wondered if there might be some clue to their identity in their machinery. She went to the console built into one of the walls. The controls were mostly touch sensitive, requiring little dexterity and as were all shaped like the panel in the cell. There was nothing resembling dials and buttons, switches or knobs. It seemed to her that the intruders were of a species who had difficulty using controls that required sophisticated finger dexterity. Perhaps their digit control was not developed. Mary studied the panel briefly before she made her way to the vent.

Although she saw no evidence of surveillance devices in the room, that did not mean they were not present. The technology of this race was so unusual she might not know what she was looking at until it was too late. It was calculable that eventually they would discover her escape. She intended to use her time wisely until that point. Mary dared not risk being caught now she was finally free. Kneeling down, she pulled open the grate and set it aside as she examined the size of the shaft. It would be a tight fit for the captain but she would have adequate space to breathe. Either way she could not afford to be selective. Climbing inside, Mary barely managed to turn around as she replaced the grate behind her.

Not daring to hope but admitting things were better than before, Mary let out a sigh and thought to herself; so far so good.

An hour later, Mary had no idea where she was.

The inside of the ship seemed like an endless catacomb of tunnels, access ways and shafts. While she had been crawling down these passage ways, she began to notice something else of interest. Many of them were covered in thick dust that had accumulated over an unbroken period of time. It did not seem as if much maintenance was conducted. It also surprised her that no intruder alert had sounded over her escape as of yet.

Finally, she decided she had to risk emerging from her hiding place to locate the captain. If he was returned to his cell, they would learn of her escape and she disliked the consequences to him when that took place. However, finding him on this vast ship was no easy feat. She could only think of one way to find him and that method was quite distasteful. It required her to drop all mental shields completely. She had to use his mind as a beacon to locate him. She was confident the bond between them was strong enough to achieve this end. Things would be so much simpler if he were a Vulcan whose telepathic skills were more than adequate for her task. Syan had opened her mind and while she would never be strong enough to be considered even empathic, Mary knew she could find him.

She folded her legs and took a deep breath, steadying herself for what was to come. Most Vulcans abhorred opening themselves like this but Mary knew she was not Vulcan and there was no other way. As unusual as this was, it also happened to be the only possible way for her to locate the captain. She remembered the disciplines required to do this and tried to draw on the teachings of Vulcan elders to help her in her quest.

Mary took several breaths as she felt the shields in her mind slowly descend like the curtains at the end of the play. Although she could feel emotions in her head from a host of minds, they were not as plentiful as she would have imagined for a ship this size. In fact, while their combined thoughts produced loud interference, Mary knew its volume should have been larger. Just how many beings were on board this ship? Adding to the mystery was the nature of their thought patterns. They were odd if somewhat simplistic. There was a certain orderliness to it that seemed undoubtedly alien. What struck her most was the level of unity they possessed with one another. Such cohesion among individuals was unheard of without some form of telepathic ability. Whatever this species was, they were single minded in their goals and similarly dedicated.

Finally, Mary forced their emotions away and allowed herself to concentrate on finding Chris. Her mind knew how to find him because of their emotional bond to each other. Although not as powerful as a Vulcan mind meld or a pon farr bonding ritual, it would suffice for her purposes. Her consciousness stretched across the expanse of the ship. Through the sea of feelings, she could sense his, like a lost grain of sand. Minute as it was, Mary could her consciousness extending forward like a physical force and reaching for it.

My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts.

There was the chance that he would not know what was taking place. To the untrained, the comprehension of telepathy was limited. There was every possibility he might consider her voice in his mind as some product of dementia and ignore it completely. Mary did not believe that of him though. The captain had a strong mind and he knew their relationship could allow for this.

My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts

She could feel his emotions entering her mind. Although he was not quite aware of her yet, she could feel the establishment of the link between their two consciousness.

Chris, can you hear me?

Once again, only silence echoed back at her. Perhaps, he was not conscious and could not answer. Nevertheless, the link was made and she rolled onto to her hands and knees and began crawling up the shaft again. The invisible chord between them compelled her to keep moving, allowing her to navigate inside the maze of shafts to reach him quickly.

I am coming, Chris. I am coming.

This light has finally driven me crazy.

Chris blinked and hoped that would help in some way to clearing his head. For an instant, he thought he heard Mary telling him she was on her way. For the last hour, they had left him on the table while they chose their next course of action. It appeared the C'Kaia's foray into Federation space was to discover the secret weapon Jean-Luc Picard had used against the Borg. As it was, he was unable to coax more information out of them regarding the startling revelation they had made earlier.

Could it be that this species had created the Borg? Chris could not imagine for what purpose the Collective had been intended but it was obvious that if the C'Kaia were to be believed, their creation got loose on an unsuspecting galaxy. The masters were now as vulnerable as the billions they had condemned to extinction because of the Borg. There was almost something poetic about it all.

Chris, can you hear me?

Chris shook his head and knew this time that sharp voice in his mind was no illusion or a figment of his imagination. He had heard it! It was Mary. Her voice was clear as one spoken out loud. Suddenly, his mind grasped it. Vulcan mind meld? No, that was impossible. Mary was human. However, Vulcans were telepaths and their mating ritual required some form of bonding process that was known to incite latent telepathy in some humans. He knew humans who were telepathic sensitive after such unions and knew it was possible to reach another mind if they were to lower their mental shields. While he could not confess to understanding all of it, Chris did hear her voice in his head.

Chris, I am coming.

Chris was very close now. She could measure the intensity of his emotions in a short radius from her position. Suddenly, she saw a grate further up the shaft and crawled quietly towards it. She could hear voices that seemed like a series of chirps and clicks. Had she been wearing her combadge, the universal translator would have been able to make sense of this unusual language. Throughout her journey here, she had ascertained one thing; there were not many C'Kaia on board this ship which was somewhat puzzling considering its size.

She reached the edge of the grate and waited for the voices to stop. The incomprehensible sounds of their language seemed fast paced and heated and Mary sensed something of great importance was being decided. She had a sudden premonition that her escape had been discovered. Peering through the slits in the grate covering, Mary saw through the dimly lit room that two figures had stumbled out leaving one behind. She observed their movements were clumsy and awkward and their bulk was spindly. While they were definitely bipedal, there was something about their shape that required more investigation.

A question for Doctor Jackson if she ever saw him again, Mary decided.

She waited until the remaining alien exited another door in the room before she emerged from her hiding place. Without a doubt, she knew the alien had entered the room where Chris was being held. The situation was still risky but if they had learnt of her escape then her time had run out and action was needed now. Carefully, she forced the grate open and climbed out of the vent. Despite the urgency of the moment, Mary was pleased to be standing upright again. Her legs ached from its cramped confinement. For a few seconds, she allowed her mobility to re-adjust itself.

The room was no different from the one she had transported into earlier. Once again, the illumination was dim as were the nature of the controls. She looked at the door where the other two aliens had exited and saw a panel not unlike the one in their cell. This one was most likely the mechanism controlling the door. She looked around and saw an odd shape tool sitting on one of the panels for which she could only guess its function. However, it was heavy and sufficient for her purposes.

There was no way to do this with any kind of delicacy. With a controlled swing, Mary brought down the object against the panel with all the force she could muster. The cover shattered underneath the weight of the tool, sending shards in all directions harmlessly. It did make aloud crack however and Mary wondered if she had been heard. Never assuming anything, she jammed the length of the tool through the mouth of the broken opening. Letting go quickly, she saw tendrils of energy cackling across the tool from the internal mechanism. The short circuit she had been attempting to produce ejected sparks and smoke into the room. Mary hoped it would be enough to jam the door and give her enough time to retrieve the captain.

She heard the other set of doors beginning to hiss and quickly ran to one of the walls flanking it. Mary remained still as the door slid open and a figure moved past her. Instead of remaining to confront the alien, she slipped through the opening and immediately slammed her fingers on the panel to close it. The alien whirled around as the doors started moving and Mary realised she had no idea how to lock it. She was going to have to attack.

Mary dropped to the floor. She glanced over her shoulder as the doors hissed open again and saw the captain strapped to a table in the centre of the room. He seemed all right for the moment but she still had an alien to contend with before she was able to help him. The alien shuffled in awkwardly and Mary kicked out her foot, slamming into what could be its ankle, causing its legs to buckle beneath it. Once the alien was down, Mary saw the silhouette of what appeared to be its misshapen head and sent a flying kick into its face. It uttered a loud screech of pain as her foot connected before it went reeling against a wall. The alien landed hard, with a loud crunch as it hit the solid surface. Mary hoped she had not delivered a mortal blow because when the alien slumped to the floor, it did not move.

"Mary!" She heard Chris call out. "Is that you?"

Pushing all thoughts for the alien aside, she jogged towards the light.

Chris was clearly pleased to see her when she stepped underneath the glare of the powerful light above him. "I knocked out one of them."

"My heart bleeds for him." Chris retorted sarcastically. "Can you get me out of this thing?"

"Wouldn't be much of an escape if I can't Captain." She remarked as she studied the device keeping him confined. Fortunately, freeing him did not look difficult. There appeared to be only one strategically placed button on the whole machine. Mary gathered this was the unlocking mechanism. Chris had informed her before his tortures on this table took place without the aliens having to enter the circle of light. Most likely, that function of the table was controlled by remote.

"Very funny, lieutenant. I think I liked you better when you didn't have a sense of humour."

"Liar." She replied, pressing the button gingerly.

The metal binds holding his body down suddenly released with a loud, audible snap. Chris did not waste any time getting to his feet once he was free. Although his muscles were stiff from hours of immobility, Chris was determined to put some distance between himself and this room. He gave his legs a quick massage to aid with circulation before he looked at her.

"Nice work Mary." He said warmly.

She flashed him a radiant smile full of emotion and he saw the relief in her eyes at knowing he was alright.

"We have to keep moving." She responded softly. "I'm sure they have discovered my escape."

Chris agreed with that assessment but there was one thing he needed to do first. "Do you think you can find the controls for this light? I want to see what they look like." He had yet to explain to her the C'Kaia may have been the race to create the Borg Collective and if either of them escaped, the information to the Federation would be invaluable.

"I believe so." She answered. Immediately her gaze shifted up and she followed the network of conduits that ran from the actual lamp. Within seconds, she found the controls and the room flooded with light.

As Chris had suspected, the room was some sort of laboratory. There were instrument panels, console screens and a vast variety of alien devices on each wall. One wall was host to an enormous refrigerated compartment. As Chris examined it, he saw dead specimens trapped inside clear canisters stored away neatly for easy access. They came in every shape and size, from small furry mammal like creatures to races Chris could not even begin to categorise. All posed before him in a grotesque gallery of death. Chris wondered how many of these specimens had died naturally and how close had he come to becoming part of the display. As his eyes scanned the compartment, his stomach lurched as he realised the C'Kaia already had a human specimen already.

The man stared back at him with eyeless sockets. His ebony coloured skin had frozen to a pasty grey. Chris saw the Y incision in his torso and hoped the death he suffered was not as awful as it surely looked. This was probably an inhabitant from one of the destroyed colonies, Chris guessed. The callousness of the C'Kaia enraged Chris and renewed his determination to stop their murderous experimentation once and for all.

Suddenly, he heard Mary call out behind him. "Chris, I think you should have a look at this."

Chris turned around and saw Mary standing over the alien she had attacked. He had been so busy examining the rest of the room he had forgotten his original desire to see what the C'Kaia looked like.

Judging from its length, the alien on the floor was humanoid sized. However at that point, any other resemblance came to an abrupt end. Its huge compound eyes stared at them although both Chris and Mary were quite certain the alien was unconscious. It had no face to speak of or at least one where features could be held distinct from the other. Its mandibles projected from the side of its head and were lined with a set of sharp serration's that could be called teeth.

Tucked neatly between the thorax and segmented abdomen of its body were two sets of extra arms. None of these appendages had any developed fingers and had only two digits if they could be called that. Its legs were clearly made for bipedal motion although there were structural flaws that would make such movement awkward. Its skin appeared to be a kind of exo-skeleton covered in thick spiky hair. Chris could not even tell what gender this particular alien was but he could understand why they considered all other forms of humanoid life to be incapable of sentience. Chris had never seen any species closely resembling the C'Kaia and yet he knew immediately what they were.

The C'Kaia were insects.

Chapter Twenty One:
Always Ducts

Both of them were still staring at the body of the unconscious C'Kaia when they heard the distant thunder of someone beating down the doors in the next room.

"They've discovered I obstructed the main door." Mary informed him, stating the obvious.

"We better make ourselves scarce." Chris quickly surveyed the room for anything closely resembling a weapon. For once, their luck held and he sighted what looked like a plexiglass weapons locker containing rifles mounted against the far wall. Without wasting any time, Chris hurried to the case and tried opening its lid without much success. The panel beside the clear case was moulded into the shape of a C'Kaia hand ensuring no one could commandeer the weapons within unless they were of the species.

"Grab him!" Chris ordered Mary before they stepped towards the unconscious C'Kaia. Although she was supposed to maintain a Vulcan stiff upper lip, he could see her revulsion as she reached for the C'Kaia and began dragging it towards the panel. Chris quickly joined her and felt similar feelings as they hauled the C'Kaia across the floor. Chris was hoping the movement did not awake their unconscious host, assuming Mary had not done severe damage when she attacked him. However, he remembered reading, as a good Vulcan wife she was schooled in their self defence disciplines and did not doubt this C'Kaia would be out for some time.

They reached the foot of the locker and Chris hauled the alien to its feet. Propping it up against the wall, Chris reached for the C'Kaia's hand and slammed its palm against the moulded imprint on the panel. The panel came alive almost immediately on contact and after a short period of processing, Chris heard the soft click of the compartment's locking mechanism being deactivated.

Wasting no time, he let the C'Kaia drop to the floor as he reached for both weapons. He had no idea how any of it worked but decided that was a question for another time. Preferably when they were absent from here. After distributing the weapons among themselves, Chris looked to Mary because she knew the layout of this place better than he did. After all, she had managed to find him in a ship this size.

"How did you get in here?"

"I'll show you." She started towards the inner doors leading to the room from where the noise was coming from. Chris followed her without question because he was confident in her abilities. As it was, she had accomplished a minor miracle in escaping from their cell to find him. While they were far from being out of danger, at least they now had a chance of coming out of this alive.

As the doors slid open and they entered the room beyond the laboratory where he was being held, the pounding behind the door grew louder. The scent of smouldering metal had started to fill the room. He guessed immediately the C'Kaia were trying to cut through the doors as well as employing more physical methods of penetrating the room. Chris did not relish being around when that happened or the consequences to Mary if they were caught. They needed him alive but she had just proved herself to be a dangerous liability that could no longer be tolerated.

"This way." Mary declared, pointing to the open ventilation shaft.

"Get in." He ushered her through the small opening. He wondered momentarily whether he himself would be able to fit in such a narrow passageway but it hardly seemed appropriate to debate the matter at the moment.

Once she had disappeared into the darkness, Chris climbed in after her. He was careful to replace the grate behind him although it took a few seconds of manoeuvring to give his shoulders enough room to move. He did not doubt the C'Kaia would eventually guess how their prisoners had escaped the room, but the period between now and eventually could mean the difference between life and death.

"Ducts," Chris grumbled, looking at his surroundings before he was forced to move down the narrow space. "It's always ducts."

"What?" Mary looked over her shoulder in question.

"Nothing," Chris shook his head and responded with a query of his own. "Do you know where you are going?" He asked as he followed Mary down the dark passageway. The sounds from the clanging doors becoming more distant the further they kept going.

"Not really," she answered honestly. "I thought we ought to put as much distance between us and where we were."

"Good thinking, we need to find their engineering deck."

"Captain, that is going to be exceedingly difficult. I found you because of some mental ability but it's not at all strong enough to do that."

"You also said the same about getting out of our cell but you're here." Chris quipped.

"Yes but that was luck too, I'm not an engineer and you're overestimating my talents." When they came to a juncture in the shafts, she turned around to face him.

"I never underestimate your talents Mary." He said with a sly smile. "I'm looking forward to seeing all of them."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Grow up."

"Killjoy," he grumbled and then thought about what they ought to do. "We'll head towards the centre of the ship." He suggested after a second.

"You mean that sphere inside the ring?" She remembered thinking that the ship's strange construction might have something to do with its method of propulsion when they had first saw it from the bridge of the Maverick. She immediately saw where he was going with this. If they could damage it structurally, perhaps they could slow the ship down or at least take it out of transwarp.

"I can't see any reason why it wouldn't be a central location for a key system. Even if it isn't the engineering deck, it might widen our options. They're called the C'Kaia by the way, and they think Jean-Luc Picard developed some kind of cognitive sense about the Borg when he was assimilated seven years ago. Right now, they're on a heading toward Borg space in the Delta Quadrant"

Mary was confused at their motives. Chris could not blame her. At transwarp, the journey would take a little under a year. "But why take us? We're not important to them."

Chris paused before he answered. "You aren't but I am. They want a starship captain they can sacrifice to the Borg for assimilation. They want to recreate whatever happened to Picard so they can have a conduit into the Borg Collective consciousness."

Mary said nothing for a moment but the fear he saw in her eyes was apparent.

"Alright," she asked. "What do we do?"

It had come finally and this time there was nothing Buck could do about it. There were no ambiguities to play upon, no more excuses or even parlour tricks. The communication from Admiral Wellington was specific with no room for misconception. It was a final decree he had no choice but to follow. After 24 hours under silent running, the Maverick  had passed clearly beyond what was Federation space in its desperate search to keep track of Captain Larabee and Mary. Although the transwarp signature gave them a trail to follow, it was obvious the intruder's superior velocity had taken them out of the Maverick's reach.

After the twenty-four hours passed, Buck had little choice but to contact Starfleet Command and give them an appraisal of their status. While waiting for their response, Buck continued the ship's course. Although he had not voiced it, their current heading was taking them directly to the Delta quadrant or would do so if they continued on course for the next eighty years.

With Wellington's words still ringing in his ears, Buck sat in the Captain's ready room trying to find options in what was a seemingly hopeless situation. The moment Admiral Wellington gave him that order, the situation was out of his hands. Obviously, the admiral did not think an untried first officer could handle a situation of this magnitude. Buck could not blame him of course, it was a reasonable assumption. Buck did not believe there was any malice was intended behind the order. He was after all new to commanding a starship and engaging an enemy like the one the Maverick had been facing required an experienced commander.

If he knew what was good for him, he would withdraw from the pursuit and return to Federation space. However, he could not. There was something inside him that would not allow him to simply give up on Chris and Lieutenant Travis. He knew if he were in the same position, Chris would move heaven and earth to get him back. He knew as well as Admiral Wellington surely did, if they were to abandon pursuit now, in likelihood they would never retrieve their lost personnel. He still believed Chris would somehow escape on their own but their survival after that depended on the Maverick being able to reach them when it happened.

Yes, he was pinning his hopes on a very slim chance and he knew it. The probabilities of such an event developing were almost non-existent. At this moment, he had no indication that either Chris or Mary were still alive or capable of making any kind of escape attempt. It was ill conceived risking so many for a futile quest. However, the part of him that did not yield to reason, whose passion and fire allowed him to make far more accurate decisions with his heart rather than his head, told him that Chris Larabee would never allow anyone to keep him caged for very long. If there was a way for him to escape, Chris would find it.

After a few minutes of preponderance on the thought, Buck reached for his combadge. "Commander Wilmington to Lieutenant Tanner."

"Yes Sir," Vin's voice returned automatically.

"Increase our speed to Warp 9 and maintain pursuit." Buck ordered and eased back into his chair, hoping to hell he knew what he was doing.

"Yes Sir," Vin responded, with a hint of pleasure in his voice at the strengthening in their efforts to find the Captain. Buck was aware Vin felt deeply for the captain and they had a personal friendship growing stronger the more time they served together.

There was no reason to let anyone else know about their orders, therefore he would limit the responsibility if it went wrong solely upon himself. As far as Buck was concerned, no one else needed to become involved in his insubordination. If there were to be any consequences from this action, Buck would suffer it alone.

Suddenly, the doors slid open and Alex walked in the room. His acting first officer had been on the bridge when JD announced the incoming signal from Starfleet Command. Alex Styles was no fool, Buck thought to himself. She would have guessed the content of the transmission even if she was not present to hear it herself. Buck knew he had.

"Can I help you Alex?" Buck asked casually.

She looked at him suspiciously as she stood before his desk. "Did Starfleet Command give us permission to maintain pursuit of the intruder?"

Buck paused, wondering how he ought to answer this question. He did not wish to lie to her because she was his first officer for the moment and undoubtedly any stain on him would not confine itself from her. However, he took a gamble on her response and decided to answer her honestly.

"No, they didn't."

For a moment, she did not speak. The was no surprise on her face even though she understood the full implications of his order to Vin and absorbed it in quiet contemplation before she finally commented a few seconds later. "They ordered us back to Federation space?"

"I am afraid so."

"I gather you are ignoring that order." His orders to Vin had made that a foregone conclusion and Alex could not say she disagreed with him.

"For the moment," Buck answered, watching her closely for her reaction.

"I see." She nodded slowly. "How long do you intend to maintain the pursuit?"

It was a fair question. She had every right to know just how long he intended to keep violating orders. "I don't know."

Alex let out a heavy sigh. "I know what it is to be left behind Buck," she said after a moment and the expression on her face became one that was impenetrable.

Buck saw the pain surfacing briefly in her eyes and wondered what the hell the Cardassians had done to her when they had her in their custody. Cardassians were known to be absolutely brutal in their torture methods and those who emerged from a Cardassian prison were usually scarred forever. While the records indicated she had been tortured, it did not say what exactly had happened to her. There were injury reports but nothing conclusive and although she seemed well enough for duty, she had no appreciation about letting anyone know the specifics of her ordeal.

"I'll support your decision in whatever you want to do," she met his gaze directly. "If you say that we maintain the pursuit, you have my full backing. I don't like leaving our people behind either."

Buck nodded slowly, grateful he had a partner in misery so to speak, in the course he had embarked upon. "Thank you Commander."

"I will get back to the bridge." She returned his warmth with a faint smile before turning to leave.

"Alex?" Buck called as she was about to leave

Alex looked over her shoulder. "Yes Sir?"

"You surprise me Alex, but it's a good surprise."

She cocked a brow and answered. "I've been doing that a lot lately."

Alex thought about Vin and the expression on the Vulcan's face when she kissed him. She had a feeling Vin thought that had been a good surprise too.

"Well," Buck grinned. "Don't stop, I like it."

*****

"What was that sound?" Chris became aware of the faint hissing behind him.

At first Chris Larabee was uncertain of what he was hearing. However, he began to smell the faint odour of an unknown chemical in the air and knew something was happening. The small amount he had inhaled made his head swim and Chris realised the C'Kaia were trying to flush them out into the open. Obviously, their captors had guessed they were using the ship's vast ventilation system to evade capture and were taking measures to force them out of the tunnels. Chris looked over his shoulder and saw it seeping out of thin fissures in the walls. Within seconds, a cloud of smoke had formed and was coming towards them with unnerving speed.

"We have got to get out of here!" Chris shouted to Mary in front of him. "They're flooding the shafts with some kind of gas!"

Mary stopped long enough to look at him. "Coming out in the open could be equally risky." She pointed out grimly but saw the greenish vapour coming towards them and knew their choices were limited.

"I seriously doubt it's any riskier than remaining here Lieutenant!" Chris prompted her to move again.

His hands were aching from this awkward position. His knees and his palms were screaming out in protest as they were forced to move faster along the narrow passageway. As it was, his bulk was his biggest obstacle for any speedy movement. He nevertheless scampered after her, grimacing each time his head knocked against the over head ceiling and his shoulder bounced off the walls of the tight compartment. Mary was able to move with barely enough room to spare while he was forced to move keeping his limbs close to his body in order to conserve space. He was so cramped he could barely think let alone move with any kind of real coordination. The cloud was still coming at them, probably being forced up the shaft by the induction fans they encountered during their passage through these tunnels.

Suddenly, he heard Mary cry out. "Captain, I see a ventilation grate further up!" Following her exclamation, he noticed she had moved faster although how she managed to in such confinement was beyond him. The fortune of feminine bone structure, he mused as he hastened his pace to match hers.

After what seem like an eternity of this undignified mobility, Chris saw Mary finally arriving at the air vent in question. She changed position with the agility of a trained acrobat and did not wait to see if it was safe beyond it. Chris cast a glimpse back to the green mist in close pursuit and was thankful she did not stand on ceremony when she slammed her foot against it. The force of her kick snapped its clasps apart and sent the metal covering flying forward like a projectile.

She pulled herself out of the open shaft and dropped to the floor just in time to see two C'Kaia aliens emerging from the doors at one end of the corridor. Unfortunately, there was no way she could avoid being seen by them. Their reaction to sighting her was swift. They started running towards her immediately. Unlike the other C'Kaia she had seen earlier, these two were not hampered by cumbersome bipedal movements. Instead, their approach used not only their legs but also the extra limbs Chris and she had noted.

Certainly, this was a more Effective mode of travel because she was barely able to unsling her weapon and release one shot when they were almost upon her. One of the aliens was only meters away when it suddenly shot a thick glob of clear fluid from its proboscis in her direction. Mary jumped out of the way to avoid it, hearing its splatter on the floor behind her a second later. The initial blast from her weapon caught the other alien in mid thorax and brought the creature down as it prepared to pounce. The remaining alien screeched in protest over its fallen comrade and spat again. Once again, she managed to avoid being hit but her attempt to avoid it had placed her in a bad position to fire her weapon. The alien was inches from her and Mary was still fumbling with the weapon to get adequate hold to fire. Suddenly, a blast of energy streaked past her and struck the attacking alien dead centre. It collapsed on the floor. Its thick exoskeleton made a loud crunch as it impacted.

She turned and saw Chris on the floor. He had fallen out of the grate and remained where he was to take aim when he saw the alien about to attack Mary

"Are you all right?" He asked concerned as he picked himself up from the floor. They could not remain here for too long. Already, Chris could see tendrils of the gas inside the shaft starting to seep out of the grate into the corridor.

Mary nodded in response to his question, unable to deny she was a little shaken by the moment. Combat was not something Protocol Officer had to deal with, especially one who had been stationed at Vulcan for most of her career. She rose to her feet and was on her way towards him when she noticed the floor where the fluid ejected by the C'Kaia had landed.

It made her stop immediately and leaned down for a closer look. The two areas where the fluid had landed were now smouldering. It appeared the fluid was eating through the metal plates of the floor like some kind of corrosive acid.

"What is it?" Chris asked walking up beside her.

"It looks like some kind of molecular acid."

"That would be consistent with an arthopod life form.  Most insects break down food products by regurgitating digestive acid. They eat the food after it has liquefied." He explained as they put some distance between themselves and the growing cloud. Fortunately, the length of this corridor was considerable and they were able to leave it far behind now they were on foot instead of their hands and knees. "I suppose a higher order of insects might decide to use that method as a form of defence."

"Gross but effective." Mary wondered what would have happened if the substance had made contact with her skin.

The corridor was almost fifty metres from one end to the other, Chris noticed as they advanced toward the opposite end. The low hum prevalent throughout most of the ship had become an actual vibration he could feel in the air. Out of curiosity, he placed his hands against the cool steel of the wall and fell his palm tingle at the microscopic shudder.

"Can you feel that?" Chris asked.

Mary had been listening to it. In fact, she had noticed it as soon as their melee with the C'Kaia had passed minutes ago. However, it was no mystery to her what it was. She recalled what the ship looked like prior to their kidnapping and believed she had a good idea where they were. "I believe we are on one of the pylons connecting the outer ring of the ship to the inner sphere."

"At least we made it this far." He sighted a door at the end of the corridor and stepped up the pace towards it. "I'm surprised we don't have the entire ship combing the halls for us."

"There does not appear many C'Kaia on board Captain," Mary informed as she fell in step with him.

"How so?"

"When I dropped my mental shields in order to find you, I was able to get a sense of the minds on board this ship. The volume of personnel does not seem consistent with a ship this size."

Somehow, that did not seem as outlandish as it sounded. Since their escape, they had made it half way across the ship without being detected. Although the C'Kaia had flooded the shafts at every point, two guards per grate seemed to be a small complement regarding the importance of their prisoners. Even now, the corridors were similarly deserted. While he knew he should not complain because this improved their chances at escape, it did make him wonder why.

"There are many questions about the C'Kaia." Chris remarked. "First of all, I believe them when they claim to have created the Borg."

"You think they're responsible for the Borg collective?" Mary asked as they closed in on the doorway.

Chris had studied classes in advance xenobiology when he was at the Academy and was surprised how much of that knowledge remained intact, even after so many years. "If the C'Kaia are the creators of the Borg, then it would explain some aspect of Borg behaviour. For instance, the hierarchical structure of the Borg. Like most insect cultures, the Queen is the leader and all others are referred to as drones. We have seen the Borg refer to themselves in the same way. Their collective consciousness may have been forced to induce the same kind of single minded unity shared by insect colonies."

"If you are creating a warrior race, it would make sense that you fashion it after yourself." She agreed as they reached the door. "Although their purposes escapes me. Obviously, the C'Kaia are advanced enough to wage wide scale warfare without creating such an aggressive warrior caste to do their bidding."

"That's true." Chris replied. "However, we don't know all that much about them. Until we do, we can only guess what their motives are."

"True." They reached the door and both Chris and Mary took a defensive position flanking it.

With their weapons drawn, Chris nodded at Mary when he activated the door panel. The door slid open. Neither of them moved for a few seconds as they waited to see if any C'Kaia would come through to investigate. After a minute or so, Chris deemed it was safe to enter the room and peered over the edge of the doorway.

"Oh my God." Chris whispered softly.

Mary saw his eyes widen in disbelief. The weapon he had been holding was primed to fire, dropped aimlessly to his side as he stepped out into the doorway and walked into the room. For a second, she could not fathom what could astonish him so completely until she herself looked inside.

They had both been wrong about the sphere being the centre of the ship's propulsion system. When Mary followed Chris's gaze, she saw a room so large that it took up the full area of the sphere as viewed from space. However, what astonished both Starfleet officers was not its size. While they had been wrong about its purpose, they were certainly not wrong about it being a key area. The room was a cargo hold and in it was the most precious cargo of any race. It filled every square inch of space inside the large area except for one small aisle that cut through the centre of it.

"Captain," she responded in a soft voice. "Are those what I think they are?"

"Yes," Chris nodded grimly. "They're eggs."

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