"Redblind" P/T, J/C, aliens

[Voy_Girl]

"Redblind"


by Voy Girl




Rating: PG

Spoilers: none

Summary: J/C, P/T,

Janeway and crew have encountered a few supposedly inhabited planets.A golden opportunity to send a few teams down to investigate, only something goes wrong for all of those teams. Aboard Voyager, other problems arise.

Disclaimer: Voyager and its characters belong to Paramount Pictures. No infringement intended.



* * * * *



Kathryn sighed, and placed her hands on her hips, as if that defiant pose would help her deal with the surfacing glob of problems. Noticing that her hands shivered slightly, she decided it was time for another run with caffeine. She looked over at the replicator, longing, then realized that it had been malfunctioning since last night. Too bad, she really could have needed a sandwich and some coffee.

Coffee. Something else six of her crew members wouldn't enjoy the luxury of until they were safe back on board Voyager. Their home.

It depended on her, the captain, how soon they'd be able to take a shower again, how soon they could eat something else than nutrition bars, sleep in a real bed.

She shook her head slightly, probably speeding up the onset of a headache. She tried to see the three planets in a new light, but it was hard. They were all equally uninhabited, with some barren parties, and some fruitful. Wanting to be able to separate them fast, Janeway and her crew had named them, from the left, X, Y and Z.

The one in the middle, planet Y, was the most hospitable, and harbored two fine young, human men. Lieutenant Jackson and ensign Sorensen. Voyager had an inadequate contact with them, and Janeway had learned that they struggled with mining a little dilithium they'd found.

The planet to the right had just begun fighting a raging ion storm when Harry Kim and Jenny Delaney were beamed there, and nothing had been heard from them since. The storm jammed both the sensors and the communicators.

And on planet X, the one to the left... Kathryn sighed deeply. Both Torres and Paris. This was what fret her the most. It had been possible to beam the others, teams B and C, down to the surface, and to their designated little piece of their respective planets.

But planet Y had just suffered an ion storm of its own, thus the transporters did not work.

According to Tuvok there was something in the atmosphere of all three planets which made it highly likely to suffer under the ion storms every now and then. Hopefully, her crew would be able to breathe on the surface.

Lieutenant Paris had, of course, immediately volunteered to take a shuttle down to the surface.

Janeway berated herself for letting him - anyone - go on the mission. And she really regretted that she'd ordered Torres to go with the shuttle. She shouldn't have let anyone do it. At all.

But she couldn't have known.

Everything had worked out smoothly for the officers in the shuttle. At first.Then, from out of nowhere, a shower ofmeteorites rained over the shuttle. The last Kathryn had seen of it was the pitiful sight of the shuttle fighting for its bearing, the tail turning upwards, lights and engines flicking on and off. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to stop staring at the planets.


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[Thomas]

She's looking down at the planets from Voyager's viewscreen?

Intriguing opening.

[Josi Rockholt]

Good start. I know it will be great. Yours always are. I have a writers block on mine now and can't get out of it.

[Voy_Girl]

[Voy_Girl]

[Voy_Girl]

Conveniently enough, the chime outside the ready room door sang. Kathryn had preferred to be alone and think, but the interruption at least prohibited her from losing herself to the far from comforting sight of X, Y and Z. One more harsh to be on than the other.

"Excuse me, Captain. But I have spoken to lieutenant Jackson and ensign Sorensen." Tuvok announced as soon as he'd taken a step into the little room. "They wish to know if they shall try to mine a little more of the dilithium they've found."

"If they want to, I won't stop them. We do need any dilithium we can get out hands on."

"They are still the only team we have been able to communicate with. The storm is raging over ensigns Kim and Delaney."

"And Paris and Torres?"

"We have not been able to discover the shuttle yet."

"Thank you, Tuvok. I know you are doing your best."

The Vulcan nodded, a bit awkwardly, then let himself out.

Janeway prepared to indulge in a little more pondering, even though it obviously was bad for her. Barely had she turned to the view port again, before she heard the distinguished sound of someone clearing his or her throat.

"I met Tuvok right outside the door, and since he didn't look especially taken, I assumed it was safe to enter without requesting permission?"

She turned around again, unclasping the hands she'd kept on her back."I admire your ability to explain yourself, Chakotay. But both you and me know that I should have to be dancing hula-hula in your old Maquis uniform, while I was smoking a cigar and cutting my own hair... To make Tuvok look 'a little taken.'"

Her first officer rewarded her quick-witted retort with a low-pitched chuckle."All right. I just wanted an excuse to see you. And, in case that excuse wouldn't work, I brought a propitiatory sacrifice."

"A bribe?" Kathryn's eyes narrowed dangerously, but a pleased smile grazed her lips.

Chakotay merely smiled at her effort to look suspicious, and at the same time he brought out what he'd held behind his back. "It's that time of day."

"It's always that time of day!" Her mischievous smile grew to a full-blown grin as she accepted the vacuum jug. "How many cups?"

"According to Neelix; five or six."

She opened it and breathed in the heavy, aromatic scent that the coffee filled the room with.

"I don't know what I would do without you! Sit down."

He placed himself in one of the seats in front of the desk, watching how she poured the dark liquid into a cup which had been placed on her desk. After swallowing her first draught, Kathryn took the seat in front of Chakotay's, leaned back with the cup in hand, and fastened her eyes on him.

Chakotay had walked in unannounced, joked with her, brought her the only need; but she was still his captain. She could decide exactly when the fun stopped and the serious part took over.

Which was what she did now. "You wanted to see me. Why?"

*~*~*

B'Elanna Torres was more frustrated than she'd ever been before. She let her sore back rest against the cool hull of the stranded shuttle. She'd wished for sunlight, and indeed, there was some kind of light washing over, around, and partially even below her. But it wasn't sunlight; at least not the kind she was used to.

This light was pale, unnatural and not especially warm.

Glancing over at her unconscious companion, who laid sprawled a few meters away, she decided it was time for him to wake up. She'd single-handedly picked Paris up from under his seat in the shuttle, and carried him out into the open.

"Tom!" Resisting the tempting urge to grab him by the hair and rouse him wake that way, B'Elanna forced herself to pat his pale cheek as gracefully as she could.

After all, it would be nice to have someone to talk to every now and then; something Paris wouldn't be able to do if she accidentally dislocated his jaw. To hit him senseless when she was trying to wake him up wasn't what she wanted.

"Where's a bucket of water when you need it?" She grumbled, voicing her thoughts. Looking around she hoped that a well would spring up somewhere nearby.

"Replicator offline?"

Startled, B'Elanna became painfully aware that Tom had opened his eyes and even found his faculty of speech while she looked away for two seconds.

"Yeah, as everything else."

He managed to heave himself up into a half-sitting, half-lying position. "The shuttle?"

She scrutinized him, suddenly feeling like there was something invisible pressing at her throat.

Tom was worse than she'd first thought. He had problems focusing on her, and as he was sitting up, the blood began to trickle from a deep gash in his forehead, following the side of his nose and dripping over his cheek.

B'Elanna didn't want to make him worried, knowing it'd only make the situation worse, thus she recovered her voice from somewhere down in the pit of one of her stomachs. "It's useless."

Noticing that something sharp had sliced up the left sleeve of her uniform jacket, just below the elbow, she eased three fingers into the hole and swiftly ripped that part of the sleeve off.

"Here, press this to your forehead."

Tom accepted the cloth, groaning as he resolutely covered the open gash with it. "How are you?"

"A few scrapes, probably a sprained wrist." As if to demonstrate her point, B'Elanna grabbed her left wrist with the right hand.

Tom nodded, knowing that apart from the gash in his forehead, he'd find at least a big bump in the back of his head; if he just worked up the courage to touch it.

*~*~*

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Chakotay smiled, and shifted slightly in his seat. "Simply the matter of-"

The unexpected, shrill tone of the chime startled them both. Sensing there was something wrong, Kathryn ordered the door open. "Tuvok?"

"Captain, a representative of the Lakmaran ship we encountered two days ago has sent us a poorly encrypted message."

"What did it say?"

"The representative wants to have a word with you. The commanding officer on the ship we met asserts that members of this crew have stolen something from the Lakmarans."

Janeway let her head fall into her palms; though only for the moment she allowed herself to dwell on the hopelessness of their situation. Immediately when that moment had passed, she looked up again, as calm and resolute as ever. "Why did they send a representative?"

"Apparently the commander and her crew were offended by our implied action. The message even implied that some of them are afraid of us."

"That's nonsense!" She flew up from her seat, almost knocking the cup on the desk over with her fist. She was suddenly angry, humiliated, and on top of it all; worried for her crew members.

"Their firepower?" Chakotay queried, following Kathryn's example and rising.

"Equal to Voyager. But their vessel is not as easily maneuvered."

Janeway and Chakotay exchanged a look. "Should we give them one for the road to remember us by, captain?"

"There is one problem," said Tuvok, still standing tall and stern next to the doorway, a step into the room. "The Lakmarans have discovered the ensign and the lieutenant on the surface of the planet in the middle. They have a torpedo lock on them. The Lakmaran ship dropped out of warp beside us, almost immediately after we had received the message. We could not stop them from getting a lock."

"They've taken Jackson and Sorensen as hostage. And they don't even know it?"

"And from what I saw of the Lakmarans on the ship we met, they are pretty trigger-happy," Janeway added to Chakotay's sentence. "They're probably ready to fire their torpedoes if we as much as flick the lights."

*~*~*

"Now what can we possibly do about this situation?" Tom drawled, propping himself up on shaky elbows. He amused himself the best he could, wiggling a foot a little, while directing his question to it.

The wiggling brought him no pain, just some discomfort due to a few pebbles which somehow had made their way into his boot. Switching to the right foot, he was rewarded with nothing but sharp, sudden pain. Another injury to add to the list.Most definitely a sprain.

Torres had set off to do some research, and Tom appreciated that she tried, but she could as well have stayed by their little camping spot a few meters away from where the shuttle had bored its nose into the ground.

She wouldn't find anything but dark grey soil and an occasional rock. All around them - back, forth, to the right, stretching behind the shuttle to the left - nothing but vast views of the same dull colored, barren land they'd dropped right into.

He sighed and turned his stiff neck to the left, where one of the precious shuttles just had ceased to be of any use. That type of shuttle craft might not be the most comfortable ride, but it could fly,and that was all that mattered to Tom. At least, it used to be able to fly.

Now there were bumps everywhere in the hull; the kisses of death from meteorites, small and big. Every now and then a few sparks emitted from it, anonymous and deploring.Tom sighed again. Pieces of the hull had even fallen off, laying scattered; one piece here, one over there...

At least they had not been trapped inside it; the hatch had still been operative when they hit the ground. Now it formed an open hole into the shuttle, where everything was scattered, crushed or pressed to the floor.

B'Elanna had gone in again, while he still was deep down in unconsciousness.She'd managed to find a med kit, the bag with their water and emergency rations, and a phaser among the things spread over the areas she could get to. She'd even managed to pull a blanket free from where it was wedged between two of the collapsed bunk beds.

According to Tom, it was a horrible shame. The destiny of the shuttle pained him in a far more different and artful way than his raw, physical injuries ever could.He adored the faithful old servant with his eyes for a while, realizing how lucky he and Torres had been.

He was very glad he wasn't alone.

*~*~*

Chakotay pressed his eyes together for a moment, as if that would change his situation to the better. The Lakmaran male representative was on board Voyager, and the whole thing had started with representative B'Zaal accusing Janeway for theft as soon as he'd materialized on the transporter pad, wearing a boastful golden robe which reached down to his feet, and immediately infuriated Kathryn.

The small group consisting of Janeway, Tuvok, B'Zaal and Chakotay had quickly gotten into the mess hall, where Neelix awaited them with a laid table.

B'Zaal had politely accepted a plate ofthick, green soup and homemade garlic bread, only to immediately tip Neelix' especially prepared food out right in front of the Talaxian's feet. Right in front of Janeway's too, for that matter.

Chakotay couldn't remember if he'd ever seem Neelix so crushed - or Kathryn so mad, before.

"You come here, accuse us of stealing, and rejects the food the chef has prepared without a look? Do it again, and you and I will trade a word over the main screen."

"Captain Janeway, I simply will not eat something that has might have been made out of something that once belonged to my fellow Lakmarans." B'Zaal declared, running four stubby fingers through lifeless, dark blue hair.

He was probably seen as pretty handsome among his kind, and in addition to the hair, he had big, round eyes with jet black pupils and just a hint of white eyeball. His skin was probably best described as a pale shade of grey.

"Now, little man... Aren't you going to clean this up?"

Neelix' mouth dropped open, and it was for anyone to see and interpret the glint in his eyes.

After giving the much taller man a look of indignation, he squared his shoulders, folded his arms and tilted his chin upwards.

"Do it yourself!" Escaped his lips. A short answer, dripping with the excess of indignation Neelix probably forced himself to bottle up inside.

"Are you not the chef?" Self-confident, B'Zaal placed his hands on his hips.Because these parts of his anatomy were hidden under several layers of the same glossy, golden fabric he had made all his robes of, he made himself look like an hourglass with a little knob - his head, on top, when he held the fabric in.

Neelix looked helplessly over at the captain, his shoulders rose and fell almost unnoticeable under his colorful jacket. No one but Kes, who had joined the group in the mess hall, which quickly emptied of people, could decide whether he shrugged or sighed.

"Don't clean anything up," Kathryn said to Neelix, balling her fists. Her hands shivered with resignation, as she turned to the representative. "No member of my crew will be treated as your slave."

"Captain Janeway. I'm afraid that if you don't do as I say, I have to contact my ship andtell them to-"

"Chakotay," Kathryn cut B'Zaal off, addressing her first officer with the same sugary voice the Lakmaran had used on her. She talked to Chakotay, but her eyes were firmly planted on the alien. She didn't want him to miss a word.

"Go to the bridge and come up with something neat that will disturb the sensors of the Lakmaran ship. Starfleet, Maquis, or your great aunt's way, I don't care. I will be forever thankful anyhow. Just do it now."

The last sentences were spoken in her usual, husky voice. When she fell silent, she gave B'Zaal the kind of smile everyone who knew her had grown to fear. The calm before the storm; the false lulling into a sense of security before the death glare.

"What do you mean?" B'Zaal was indeed beginning to look a little nervous.

"I really don't have time for this. There are members of my crew down there!"

"Your crew can wait!"

Chakotay had turned and was heading for the exit to carry out his orders when he heard B'Zaal's retort. He froze in mid-step and headed back to the little group at the counter.

Neelix groaned. Kes was frozen, eyes round.

He locked eyes with the squirming Talaxian. Kathryn surely did take her sweet time to end their discomfort. "He didn't just say that."

"I'm afraid he did," Neelix whispered back, squirming a little more.

"Don't ever tell me that my crew 'can wait'!" Finally, the answer came. It was forceful, though alarmingly calm.

Afraid Janeway would launch out at the Lakmaran representative, Chakotay took a step forward and placed a hand don her shoulder. She stiffened. Her eyes narrowed, her jaw worked. But she simply would not let herself loose her calm. Chakotay admired her for that, and suddenly felt proud.

B'Zaal let his dark lips stretch out to form a thin line. "It's okay, you permanently painted one... You don't have to hold her back!"

"Tuvok!" Kathryn barked. " Escort this man to the brig immediately!"

"But..." B'Zaal spun around, only to discover that the Vulcan skillfully had moved so that he was right behind him.

He whirled around again, facing Janeway. "You're going to pay for this!" He spat, eased a hand under one of the many robes, and pulled out a slim, metallic gun about half the size of a Starfleet phaser.With feverish eyes he aimed it towards Kathryn, who didn't even blink.

Like everyone else, the Lakmaran representative didn't stand a chance when Tuvok brought a hand to his neck.

*~*~*

[Lxe]

ooh I love it. keep going.

[Thomas]

Thanks for clearing that up, and great addition!

[Voy_Girl]

As Tom laid sprawled under the mystic, unnatural light, he suddenly heard something resembling to a grunt behind him. "Torres? Is that you?"

He did not look forward to leaving the provisional pillow he'd made by shuffling soil into a little pile, and covering it with his jacket. When he didn't receive any kind of answer, he rolled his eyes and eased himself up by using his elbows. His ears rang, and his head felt so light he began to wonder if his brain had been replaced by cotton.

"Torres! You there?" He was just about to force himself to rise and investigate what was happening behind him, when two sets of claws suddenly were locked around his neck.

It was most definitely not his fellow derelict.

* * *

Hurting his sore neck and pounding head tremendously, Tom managed to perform a headlock clear as a bell-ringing on the furry creature behind him, hurling it over his own head and then releasing it.

He wasn't able to toss it far enough though, since it landed on his outstretched legs, prone atop his knees.

The animal which dug it's three-inch silver colored claws deep into Tom's thighs was approximately a meter long, with short, light brown fur and six short legs, of which two hung helplessly at the beast's sides. Without claws and probably purposeless.

It had no protruding ears -- or any head at all for that matter, no visible mouth, but three piercing silvery eyes, placed in line with each other. To complete its appearance, there was a very flat little snout, and over each eye a respective eyebrow, which arched and curled as it stared at the designated victim.

Tom leaned forward and screamed at the clearly bloodthirsty creature. It was not so much out of pain and fear; he wanted it gone from his legs, the green goo that dropped from the snout away from his pants, and the whole thing as far from his sight as possible.

Managing to ease his knees up, Tom was able to lift up the rounded body on top of it. He waited until the animal slid down to his lower legs, though still with its claws deeply buried in his thighs.

He irked the toes of his boots under the animal's belly, knowing that almost every animal at Earth is as most sensitive there. When his toes sank into the soft flesh, he pushed the creature away, ignoring how the claws ran deep from the middle of his thighs and all the way to his knees.

Summoning probably all the strength he had left, Tom used his feet and the strength in his legs to push the animal away, sending it flying several meters. It ran. Free of the horrifying little thing, Tom's head began to swim again, this time partly with the pain, and partly the adrenaline surge wearing off.

* * *

There was a low-pitched whimper behind him; something that made him sigh deeply. "Let it be Torres," he murmured, willing his elbows to keep supporting his upper body. He took a deep breath, and turned his head to take a look.

Of course it wasn't B'Elanna. Another of those creatures met his unsteady gaze. This one looked exactly the same, though it had parted a set of barely noticeable lips, thus showing Tom an upper jaw filled with small teeth. They were perfect, dazzling white and not so little pathetic for a predator.

It seemed as it smiled at him, and for a second, Tom felt for smiling back.When he drifted off in thought about hugging the little fellow too, he jerked himself alert, realizing the wound in his forehead was open and bleeding again.

The creatures apparently noticed too, since it started to sniff, make funny clicking noises -- and then it exposed its lower jaw. If the teeth in the upper jaw had been pathetic, the ones in the lower jaw definitely was not. There were only two of them, but they were long, big, sharp and sickly yellow.

It covered the teeth in the upper jaw again, but kept the two razor-sharp visible. Raising an eyebrow, it brought up a pair of bony shoulder and leaned forward; universal language for 'I'm going to jump you'.

Tom groaned inside and closed his eyes. He knew he wouldn't stand a chance. The bag with the phaser was several meters away, though it probably wouldn't have made any difference if he'd had it at handy, since Torres had condemned it as malfunctioning.

Preparing for the inevitable feeling of the teeth sinking into him, Tom had to open his eyes to accept his faith. He couldn't keep his head turned to the creature and have his eyes closed; if he did the darkness began to whirl and spin. And he decided that if he was going to die by the paw of a Delta Quadrant animal, he should at least be aware of his last moments; not unconscious and indifferent.

And he did open his eyes in exactly the right time. The right time to see the creature, hopefully, being whacked to surrender by a discarded piece of the shuttle hull.

Torres had finally arrived, and grabbed the piece of hull just in time to prevent the animal from digging its claws, and teeth, into Tom.

It turned to her, baring all of its teeth. The animal and the half-Klingon circled each other for a moment, B'Elanna deliberately luring it away from her injured crew mate.

Suddenly, it raised the set of arms in the middle, proving them not to be so useless after all.

The same green goo as dripped out of its snout shot out from both extremities, which apparently not were arms at all. One load landed on B'Elanna's left leg, the other one of the piece of hull she used as a shield.

Taken aback, she stumbled at the burning sensation of the goo on her leg, then pulled herself together and glared at the creature, which glared back.With some sort of homemade Klingon war call, she launched at it and let the piece of hull dance over its back until lime-green blood trickled out on several places.

The fight ended abruptly, with the animal fleeing in the same direction as its friend, and B'Elanna sinking heavily to the ground.

"Dinner?" Tom queried groggily before letting the ocean raging between his ears take over.

*~*~*

[Thomas]

Eeek! Voyager had better find them soon!

[Voy_Girl]

[Thomas]

Not funny!

[Voy_Girl]

All right, I couldn't restrain myself for 10 minutes... Look at those two weeks. Honestly, I'd only be hurting my own little "career" if I didn't update.

***********




"Tell me; was it a good idea to lock B'Zaal up?"

"It was the best thing you could have done."

Kathryn and Chakotay were back in the ready room again, and B'Zaal was in the brig, closely monitored by a security officer.

"What about the disturbance of their sensors, should I tell Tuvok to initiate it?" He asked, crossing his legs.

"Tell him to stand by. It surprises me that the Lakmaran ship hasn't scanned us once since we beamed their representative on board. If we'd initiate it now, and they'd scan us, I think they would become more than a little puzzled."

"What if they would. What if they scanned us now and realized that B'Zaal can't move over any area to speak of, what would they do then?"

"They would hail us. Tuvok would initiate the disturbance signal. Would they crack the code... Is that what bothers you?"

"Do you think they would be able to?"

His tone of voice got sharper for each syllable, making Kathryn glance up from a PADD she'd picked up and started to eye through. Apparently he chose to ignore that she wanted to end their conversation within a near future.

"I don't think they would. They're too lazy, and too unaccustomed to more advanced technology. They don't have transporters, com badges, or replicators, nor the knowledge they need to go over our signal with a fine-toothed comb."

"Can you take that risk? What would happened if they scanned us, and decided to attack?"

"It's waterproof," Kathryn shrugged and emptied her fifth cup of coffee.

Chakotay swallowed his chagrin, determined to see the situation from her direction. "You don't think much about the Lakmarans."

"No, I don't. I can't believe they actually accused us of stealing 500 kilo of brawned root crops, and then have the courage to demand dilithium as compensation!"

"That's probably how they keep their ships going."

"It has to be... But I definitely won't help them a meter."

They both fell in thought for a moment. "More coffee?"

"Please." Since the thermos was closer to him, Kathryn handed Chakotay her cup.

"Chakotay, why did you... Restrain isn't the right word..."

"Insinuate that I needed to restrain you?"

"Why did you?"

"It wasn't to restrain you, more to show him that you had the entire crew behind you."

He emptied the jug to the last drop before handing back the half-filled cup.

"Especially you?" Their little difference of opinion regarding whether to be safe rather than sorry with the Lakmarans seemed more or less forgotten.

"Of course... I'm your first officer. I'll always stand behind you." Chakotay cleared his throat discreetly, then smiled. "Though I can't guarantee that I'll always share your every opinion."

Kathryn smiled back, shifting her gaze from Chakotay to the view port. "That's good to know."


*~*~*


"Did that saber-toothed chipolata sausage hurt you?"

"It's sprayed something on my leg... It burns!"

Realizing that probably was as close she'd ever come to admit it hurt, Tom forced himself up on his, by this time very scratched, elbows again. "Come here and let me look at it!"

"Look who's talking... Who's more hurt, you or I?"

"Just crawl over here!"

Slowly, B'Elanna stood up, clutching her lower leg. The pants had been torn apart, and green slime still hung to the fabric. "I must have blacked out for a second. How long has it been?"

"I have no idea, passed out to. Came to, to you swearing."

She walked the few meters which separated them, pretty stilted. "Whatever. Did it have time to do anything to you?" B'Elanna slumped down to his left.

"Not the one you bashed, but well its partner who paid me a little visit just before that second one did. Gave me a couple of pretty, red stripes down my legs. Oh, could you sit at the right instead? It's easier for me to turn my head in that direction."

"Couldn't you have said that before?" She grumbled, but crawled obediently around him and placed herself to his right instead.

"Have you got the med kit?"

"I'm not getting up again! You are such a--"

"I'll get it!" Not in the mood for yet another Klingon nickname he would have to look up as soon as they got back, Tom placed a hand on B'Elanna's shoulder and tentatively rose.

Immediately, the world around him went black, though only for a second. His head still swam.

The torn flesh ached and the irritated skin around the eight neat scars stretched uncomfortably.

Clenching his teeth together, he staggered to the bag with the med kit, and got hold of it almost without bending down at all.

"The old-fashioned ointment in this bag is very appealing right now," Tom breathed through clenched teeth when he sank down again.

"Then use it."

"No way! We're going to get your wound cleaned up first."

"Why? Trying to be the perfect gentleman?"

"Because that green stuff can be poisonous!"

"Oh," Torres' jaw worked. "Then get to it!"

"Here," Paris handed her his discarded uniform jacket. "Take the cleaner sleeve. Most of it is covered in soil."

"Right," B'Elanna ripped off the left sleeve right where it was fastened to the shoulder party, then began to tear it into thin shreds.

For a few moments, all that could be heard in the area around the shuttle was the unpleasant sound of fabric being torn.

'*'~*~*

[Thomas]

Doesn't time fly?

Loved it!

[Voy_Girl]

[Voy_Girl]

This has to be the last for tonight. I have to go turn all clocks back an hour.

************




"Ready?"

"Just clean the wound!"

"I wonder if you don't have a set of fangs hidden in there somewhere too..."

"Feeling better now, Paris?"

"Not much. Why?" Tom let the cloth that once had been a part of his uniform hover over B'Elanna's exposed lower left leg.

"Oh, I just thought that... interesting sense of humor was a part of your healthy state. I was apparently wrong."

"That was not a joke. More like a... statement."

"Clean the wound!"

"All right... Just don't bite my head off!"

* * *

"There. Good as new!" He announced a few minutes later, as he tied up the last shred of fabric he needed to cover her wound.

B'Elanna had ripped off the pant leg from her knee down herself; it was too smeared with goo for her to have any benefit from it. Thanks to the cloth drenched in ointment, the amount of burnt flesh had been brutally exposed.

The burn stretched from her left ankle to almost two inches beneath her knee. The wound itself was pink and irritated, the skin surrounding it torn and red.

Torres inspected the neat package her lower leg had become. "It looked like every other burn. Nothing to worry about."

"I still wished I could have checked it with a tricorder... What if it is poisoned?"

"Wouldn't I have felt a little feverish by now, if that was the case? I don't.
I'm fine, and now it's your turn."

"My turn?"

"To clear you wounds! What do you think, should we rip of the fabric covering them?"

"Why don't I just parade around in my underwear?"

"That would be a good plan to have in direst necessity, Tom. Surely would scare off those animals."

"And the cons?"

"I'd probably run with them."

Tom chuckled a little, moistening dry lips and blinking rapidly a couple of times. The dizziness had crept upon him again.

"You want some water?" B'Elanna actually looked worried when her appearance became visible for him again.

"Not now. Hey, what if we could use my jacket, already ruined and all, take two large pieces from it and cover the wounds with them?"

"Okay," she shrugged, still looking a little worried. "But you'll do the sewing."

*~*~*

"The paradoxical part of this situation, is that Jackson and Sorensen are the ones I'm the least worried about, and they each have a torpedo with their name on it." Kathryn opened her arms, and made a few hopeless motions with her hands.

She and Chakotay were on a little stroll, needing a little change of air from the ready room.

"You're worrying the most about Tom and B'Elanna, aren't you?"

"They have a shuttle which was battered by merciless meteoroids, and with their luck they've probably gone down on one of the barren spots."

"And... they're together," Chakotay gave a bleak smile.

"They're so different... Yet so alike."

"Someone once said that; 'Difference is one of the keys to an interesting and variable friendship'."

"What about already established friendships?" Janeway nodded at a crewman who passed them, with a hyperspanner in one hand and a tricorder in the other. "I've heard that those sometimes are... taken to another level."

"That," he cleared his throat. "Is known to have happened."

*~*~*

Harry Kim let his eyes dance over the readings on the tricorder again. "No dilithium or other metals here either."

He and Jenny had been beamed to the border of a forest with a lush green grass beneath the trees. They'd placed their bags under one of the trees, marking the spot with Harry's more conspicuous yellow jacket.

"Harry... Do you think people will start to pair up eventually?" Jenny approached him, glancing at her own uninteresting tricorder readings.

He knew Jenny, and there were times when she could become very gossipy. For example, when she was utterly bored. "It's bound to happen sooner or later. Why?"

"No reason. I just wanted to hear if you know about a couple or two..."

"I don't. Jenny, I'm warning you; let people have their lives in peace."

She shrugged, pushing a renegade strand of hair away from her eyes. "I'll give you an easier question; do you think Tom and Torres ever will develop something that can bare any resemblance at all to a friendship?"

"All I know, it that right now, they don't. If anything Tom and B'Elanna have a sparringship. With all the pros and cons of that."

"Doesn't it bother you that your two best friends are bickering all the time?"

"Sometimes, but it can be pretty amusing at times, too. Like when they choose totally... stupid things to go on about."

*~*~*

"Torres, you take the blanket!"

"You're more hurt than I am!"

"That might be, but it's enough that this fabric is brushing against the wounds."

The two marooned lieutenants had decided it was night, and thus time to go to sleep, though nothing has changed. Not the temperature, nor the odd light that surrounded them.

* * *

Tom had, not an hour before, very carefully, torn the three shreds of fabric in-between the open wounds on each leg away. With two rectangular, open holes in the pants, B'Elanna had cleaned the eight wounds for him. The ointment had an interesting woodsy scent, and to Tom's relief it did rinse up the deep wounds. They might have been deep, but they were also neatly slashed and in periods barely hurt at all.

Preferring not to have his legs from knees and up wrapped in provisional bandages, Tom had ripped out two big pieces of fabric from the back of his uniform jacket. He'd covered the length of the wounds with two rectangular pieces, then tied them to his legs with shreds of cloth.

One shred just above his knee, and the other one round mid-thigh, and then the same procedure at the other leg.

That was even better than the needle and thread they didn't have, since the fabric form his jacket allowed a little soothing air to get to the wounds. When he didn't bend his knees, that was.

While she was at it, B'Elanna had cleaned the wound in his forehead too, finishing with securing a cloth to his head with a steady knot.

* * *

"Fine, I'll take the stupid blanket! Just don't start complaining when you discover that you're freezing without a jacket."

"I won't."

They had gathered the little B'Elanna had salvaged, placing it in a pile behind where they had planned on sleeping.

"Okay then," Torres kicked off her boots, drew the blanket tight around her shoulders, and lay down, curling up into a little ball with her back to Tom. "Good night," she mumbled a few seconds later.

"Sleep tight." Tom made another little pile of soil, then placed what was left of his jacket over it. He did feel better once the wounds were cleaned and bandaged.

It wasn't especially cold, and he doubted he'd freeze during what they decided was the night.

He eased down on his back, sprawled out next to the tight ball that was B'Elanna. Placing his head on the hard, home-made pillow, he suddenly discovered where that bump was. He elicited a involuntary moan from himself, and found that he was forced to tilt his head to the right to avoid contact between the pillow and the back of his head.

"Cold?" B'Elanna asked, apparently not asleep yet. She did not at all sound as triumphant as Tom had expected her to.

"Discovered another injury."

"Oh, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Feels a bit strange talking to your back, though."

"Well, get used to it. I'm not about to turn around, now that I've found a position I can call somewhat comfortable."

"Don't bother. Hey... thanks for saving my skin."

"Don't mention it. Those things needed a good match." She squared her shoulders; something he could only suspect. "Besides, I don't want to be alone down here."

"Me neither. What do you say, should we try not to waste energy by fighting?"

"While we're stuck here, you mean?"

"Of course. Would be boring back on Voyager otherwise."

"Sure," she agreed, sounding more intrigued then relieved. Perhaps she saw it as a challenge.

"Then it's a deal."

A few seconds passed, during which B'Elanna began to squirm a little.

"Was there something else?" Tom asked, wishing he could see her face.

Another couple of seconds passed. She coughed a little, then finally answered him; by snapping. Back to basics, so to say. "I think we can manage this. If I just can block out how annoying you are."

*~*~*

[Thomas]

Wow, quite a lot to read tonight.

Worth it.

[Voy_Girl]

[Voy_Girl]

"What about Janeway and Chakotay?" Jenny Delaney took a bite of a sandwich with salad and paprika.

"What about them?" Harry climbed up on the big rock they'd found in the edge of the wood, a good forty meters away from their things.

The forest consisted of high deciduous trees with exceptionally thin stems and a little ball of dark leaves, which resembled to rubber, on top.

"I discussed it with Megan , and we agreed on that we've seen those two together very often lately."

"They're friends, Jen! It doesn't mean..."

She was so eager to get out what she wanted to say, she had to stop the last bite of the sandwich from falling out by putting a hand to her mouth."Read my lips, Harry! He didn't have to accompany her to the Christmas party, the New Year's celebration, the opening ceremony of that holographic museum, nor the yellow garment night, was it? And most definitely not to Chell's little gathering. He didn't have to."

"Why--" Harry couldn't get a word in edgeways before she interrupted him, determined to finish her summing-up.

"And it's not only Megan and I who think so. I've talked to Mariah, Donna, Steven, Sindy, Lorna, Marcus, Cameron, the other Mariah, Palion, Suzanna..."

*~*~*

B'Zaal grinned at Chakotay when the latter placed himself on the other side of the force field which closed in the prisoner in the brig. "What brings you to this hole? Treason, I hope."

"You can entertain yourself the best you can. I happen to be on the right side of the field."

"Seriously, you've come to release me, right?"

"Not by any chance. According to Starfleet regulations, we have to feed you." Chakotay raised a hand, and Kes, who'd waited in the doorway approached with a tray.

"What is that? I hope the little woman has brought me something edible."

"It's the same as everyone else is having for dinner today. Leola root casserole."

"Phew!" B'Zaal exclaimed, waving a hand in front of his face. "I'd rather fondle this force field of yours than eat that."

"Commander," said Kes with hard-won calm. "I do have better things to do than to stand here and listen to than man ridicule something that can keep him alive."

"Of course, I'll take care of this. Dismissed." He took the tray from Kes, who immediately walked to the exit.

Chakotay nodded to the middle-aged woman who was monitoring the prisoner.

"Lower the

field, lieutenant."

* * *

To B'Zaal's visible dismay, Chakotay dumped the full tray in his hands. "There! It's up to you if you choose to eat it or not."

"Commander, please, stay and talk with a poor prisoner for a while. I hardly never get visitors."

Heaving a sigh, Chakotay signed to his subordinate to put the field back into place.

The prisoner placed the tray with his dinner on the floor, staring at it with dismay. "I've met Talaxians before. And not even back then I was especially fond of their cooking."

"That's very interesting," Chakotay folded his arms. "But since I have stayed in here with you, I'd like to choose the topic of discussion now."

"And what topic would that be?" B'Zaal caressed a long, dull ring which he had on one of the four fingers on the left hand. It was made of a grey metal, and covered the length of his, thus inflexible, finger.

"Why did you accuse us of stealing something as banal as brawned roots?"

"Because it's an innocent product. But that captain of yours simply couldn't give us what we wanted and then just let us leave in peace. A little of your dilithium would have been a much less painful loss." He slid the long ring of his finger, weighing the two-inch length in both hands.

Chakotay bean to feel a little pressed in, a feeling he'd concluded peace with and learned to appreciate during his years as a boxer. That extra notch the feeling brought to the belt of his senses had helped him many times -- to avoid serious injuries... Or win.

He glanced at the woman by the controls. She was engulfed by the content of a PADD.

There was something very wrong with the atmosphere in the brig, but Chakotay just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Soon, however, you will understand how much my species really need dilithium." B'Zaal flicked a side of the rectangular ornament with a finger. With a barely audible click, a slim, dark stiletto slid out from one of the short sides.

*~*~*

[Thomas]

I reeeeeeeeeeally want to know what comes next.

[Voy_Girl]

This is the time I originally thought I'd use to write 10 new stories for a contest, though posting this was funnier.

*******************


At the same time, Kathryn rose from her seat on the bridge. She straitened out an invisible crease on her uniform jacket, and ordered the crewman at the ops station to hail the Lakmaran ship.

After a few seconds came the granular image of a tall Lakmaran female into view.

"I am Doxa, the commanding officer of this ship. What do you want?"

She wore dark pants which were buttoned several inches over her navel, and a lighter silken blouse tucked into them. Her dark blue hair matched her pants. Like Janeway, she too, had her hair done in a complicated coiffure.

"I'm Kathryn Janeway. I wish to discuss you representative, B'Zaal."

"I am willing to discuss him," Doxa answered after a few quiet seconds. "But our abilities to communicate via the view screen in limited... Soon we won't be able to keep the link up. You must come here."

Kathryn nodded, as the visage of the Lakmaran commander began to crack up.

"You can take a group from your ship with you, and let your fancy transporters take you to my ship." Their audio link, too, came to an abrupt end, after Doxa had said something more which was transmitted as crackling.

"We'll be there in five minutes," Janeway said, uncertain whether it reached the Lakmarans or not.

*~'~*


Tom woke up to a warm breath grazing his cheek. For a brief second, before he opened his eyes, he was certain it was B'Elanna who was bent over him, breathing loudly in his ear.

A moment later, he realized that the rapid puffs of breaths were sickening. And when was the last time Torres had something that smelled like an almost rotten piece of raw meat wedged between her teeth?

He forced his heavy, sleep-lidded eyelids upon. And was immediately rewarded with a grin from where the pesky breath originated from. One of the sausages. It had placed the two forepaws on Tom's chest, while the hind legs restlessly tramped the soil beside his left hip.

Groaning, Tom tried to ease the paws off of him with fumbling hands. That thing was beginning to become heavy -- and making it difficult to breathe. He could see the expected piece of raw meat thread on to one of the fangs; the stench it secreted was nauseating.

"B'Elanna! Some co-operation, please!"

In sleep, she had turned so that her relaxed face, and not her back, was turned to him. She mumbled something and pulled the blanket over her head. He wouldn't get any help there.

Tom raised a hand and held it in front of his face, while he let the other grope behind that pillow of his. To his great joy - and surprise - he could feel the cool met kit not too far away from his trembling fingers.

Grabbing it as discreetly as he could, he quickly smashed his furry opponent alongside the part of it he guessed was the head. It whimpered and backed away, however not before paying Tom back with a spray of the green slime.

* * *

First, Tom only felt a not at all unpleasant tickling sensation spreading over his left cheek and chin. That was the seconds before the burning stepped in. Not wanting to be wasteful with their valuable water, he pressed his teeth together and decided to endure in silence, like Torres had done. Though, he was sure being burned in the face was much more painful than being burned on a leg.

"Did you say something?" The question was a bit slurred by sleep and then further muffled by the blanket.

Paris had to take a moment to make out what she wanted. "Two minutes ago I did!" He became aware of how his skin - or lack thereof - stretched when he talked.

"Can't I at least take two minutes to wake up before you start to nag?" She pulled the piece of the blanket that covered her head away. Sitting up, she tried to tame her untidy morning hair with idle hands. "What can possibly happen on two minutes?

"This, for example!" He pointed at his cheek, where remnants of green slime still clung on to the cheek. The rest of the slime had dripped down on his turtleneck, where it was visible as small, bright stains.
"At least I don't have to shave," he grinned awkwardly while sitting up, but B'Elanna was not amused.

She took the med kit, conveniently lying in-between them, opened it and began to place ointment on a piece of cloth. "That little... Those little... If I'd just get my hands on them..."

"You have a pretty good chance now."

"What?"

"To get your hands on them. Look!"

B'Elanna followed his outstretched hand with narrowed eyes, until they landed on the shuttle.

"Again, what--" She didn't have time to finish the sentence before a lively chatter began.

Two, then three and four of the creatures jumped out from the hole in the shuttle, where the hatch had been.

"They've moved into the shuttle!" Torres said breathlessly. More and more of them came out, until there were probably a dozen grown, and a handful younger ones gathered outside the vessel.

"They will defend it," Tom said dreamily, gazing over the family that had moved into a shuttle he'd piloted only hours before.

B'Elanna raked together what little they had, then quickly dropped to the ground to pull her boots on.

"You're fleeing?"

"I'm surviving!" She flung the single bag over her shoulder. "But if you want to stay here and become their breakfast, by all means do so! I'm going!"

"Where to?"

She took his hand and helped him to stand up, frowning when Tom carefully took care of the rag he'd degraded his jacket to. "From what I remember, there is supposed to be a 'luxuriant garden' to the west,"

"Yeah, so where's the west?"

Though the couple were less than fifteen meters away from the shuttle, none of the creatures made a move.

"If the shuttle's to our right, I'd say the west is straight ahead."

"I'd say it's twenty-five percents chance." Tom swayed a little, but quickly gained foothold again.

"Are you okay? Can you walk?"

"Can you?"

She heaved a sigh. "We'll just have to stop and rest when it gets hard. What do you think?"

"I think we should get going before they realize they haven't had breakfast yet."

*~*~*
[/i]

[Thomas]

It goes on.

[Voy_Girl]

It surely does.


**********************


A shabby cargo bay, filled with a healthy mix of equipment, food and wild dust bunnies, came into Janeway's view as she materialized on board the Lakmaran ship.The two male ensigns and the female lieutenant she'd brought with her -- she'd literally snatched the first best that she could find on the bridge -- all winced, the blonde woman even daring to wrinkle her nose.

A door opened near the four-man strong group, Doxa entered, carelessly gnawing at a pale beige fruit. A young boy in his teens followed her, quickly yanking the door shut again by pulling a string attached to a piece of metal in the middle of the grey square that was used as a door.

"Not everything is about beauty, captain," Doxa said when she noticed Kathryn's skeptic ogling. "My species have gone in for warp and weapons technology instead for streamlined ships and transporters."

"I'm glad you've given priority to that, shows a little more intelligence."Janeway's voice was spiked with a little sarcasm, however Doxa did not seem to notice.

"I assume you have heard that you shouldn't judge the pulp after one look at the peel?"

She showed them the part of her fruit she'd taken a few bites off. The inside was a glistening ruby red.

"Something like that, yes."

Doxa suddenly raised a high-pitched laugh, which involved throwing her head back, dropping the fruit to the floor and clapping her hands, a little reserved. "Captain, I think you and I are of the same kind. Would you like to go to the engine room now?"

Kathryn had to mentally steady herself before she could say something about her equal's simile.

"I'd rather take care of this behind closed doors."

"I understand. But won't you at least see the rest of the ship? Do you really think I let the rest of my ship look like this cargo bay?"

"I reckoned that wasn't the case."

"Then come with me, let me show you at least a part of my domain." She moved towards the door, and the boy immediately appeared from the shadows to yank it open.

"Thank you, Tenny. Looks like you will deserve your payment this week."

He nodded, then slipped through the door before someone else had a chance to.

"He's a good boy," Doxa confided Janeway. "I believe he will become something one day."

On the behalf of every Lakmaran gatekeeper, Kathryn hoped that would become true.

*~*~*

The stiletto felt strangely warm against his cheek. Chakotay tried to concentrate on how to avoid it. With the weapon to his abdomen, he'd been half-pushed, half-led out from the brig, as soon as the terrified lieutenant had lowered the field. Afterwards, B'Zaal had short-circuited the door from the outside, trapping the woman inside. At least she had a full plate of leola stew to eat if she got hungry.

B'Zaal had led Chakotay through many meandering hallways, before he finally stopped in a corner. He drew the stiletto over Chakotay's cheek, then brought it to his jaw, giving a throaty chuckle. "Just give me the dilithium now."

"So you can give it to your friend on board the ship?"

"So I can sell it to anyone but her. Doxa is desperate. She will do anything to get the dilithium she need for her scrap-heap to vessel. In fact, she's already done anything. And that psychopath can do it again. It's better off with me."

"If I give it to you, and you manage to get away without being noticed... Doxa will come after Voyager, wanting the dilithium we don't have anymore. What do you think will happen then?"

"That's the fun part, commander. You never know what she can come up with."

Chakotay groaned. He was unwilling to admit it, but he'd rather give the dilithium to B'Zaal, if he had no other choice. But, things were not by far so critical yet, and he'd keep it to himself for as long as he just could.

"Now, how will it be?"

"Commander?"

At the sound of Neelix' voice, B'Zaal started, and Chakotay reacted as swift as a lightning. He grabbed B'Zaal's arm, and twisted it backwards; the little weapon fell to their feet. B'Zaal bellowed, twitching furiously.

"Neelix! Help!" Chakotay had forced his opponent down on his knees, when the alien managed to reach out and hit Chakotay in the diaphragm with his free arm.

B'Zaal allowed himself to look back at the other man, who gasped for air. He turned, giving Chakotay a box on the ear, though he had no chance to defend himself when Chakotay struck back; with a straight right.

When B'Zaal could see straight again, he began to crawl around, looking for the slim knife. He prepared to rise, but Neelix was right in front of him.

"This is for hurting the commander... But mostly for the deriding of my cooking!"

*~*~*

[Thomas]

Hooray for Neelix!

Did I just say that?

[Voy_Girl]

Neelix must be credited some time, too...