Trials 04 Shadow's Trial

by Terri Zavaleta

  defense of her---even if he was defending her from herself.

  "B'Elanna is wonderful just the way she is. Practically perfect in

  every way," Tom hastened to say. "And you can tell her I said so. I

  just mean you shouldn't say demeaning things about yourself---and

  don't excuse it by saying you were only joking!"

  "You're right," Malista admitted. "It bothers Harry when I say

  negative things about me too. I guess it's a habit. I'll try to watch

  it. Tom?"

  "What?"

  "Do you think Harry will be worried? Really?" It was a small plea for

  reassurance.

  The lieutenant nodded decidedly. "Of course. I only hope you'll love

  him when he's bald. He's probably tearing his hair out as we speak. He

  wants you back in one piece. You concentrate on that idea. It's your

  *duty* to get back to Harry. He loves you and wants you and needs

  you---and these aliens have no right to make you or Harry unhappy. Get

  mad about that, will you?! I happen to know Harry had a special date

  planned for this evening. Don't tell him I told you! He's going to be

  really ticked at these aliens for spoiling his plans!"

  A tentative smile tugged at her lips, then disappeared. "What are we

  going to do now?"

  "Well, according to my training at the Academy, we assess our

  situation, gather intelligence, search for a means of escape, and wait

  for the opportunity to act." He took her hand in his and squeezed it.

  "And if there is no opportunity?" she asked.

  "Then we make one," he replied matter-of-factly. He was sure that he

  would find a chance. He was counting on it. He refused to even

  consider the possibility of a negative outcome.

  She was convinced. They settled down to wait, holding hands, each lost

  in thought.

  A bright light suddenly popped into existence in front of them. When

  the brightness faded, the hexagon shaped bed disappeared. Unprepared

  to have their seating yanked from under them, the two of them landed

  on the floor with thumps and groans of surprise. They looked around.

  The bed hadn't disappeared. They had. They were in another room.

  *************************

  "Anything?" Captain Janeway asked.

  Tuvok glanced up. "We have not been able to trace the signal back to

  its source."

  "We just barely got the sensors to recognize its existence," Harry Kim

  added, a hint of his impatience and anxiety making itself heard.

  "Enough to trigger the intruder alert, but we didn't have time to lock

  on and get a directional fix."

  Janeway and Chakotay exchanged glances. It had been four hours since

  the crewmembers known as The Six had simultaneously vanished from

  their various locations around the ship. Their commbadges and the

  equipment they had been wearing or holding had been left behind so,

  wherever they were, The Six were unarmed and unequipped for an away

  mission. The only equipment that was known to have transported with

  them were the protective spectacles that they'd all picked up from

  Sickbay that morning.

  Harry Kim had been running diagnostics, tests, and simulations almost

  continually, aided and abetted in his endeavors by the Chief Engineer

  who was now fidgeting at his elbow.

  "Harry, it's time for you to take a break," the first officer said.

  "You and B'Elanna go get something to eat and try to take your mind

  off the problem. That may help you to think of something we're

  missing."

  Kim began to protest but subsided at the 'do I have to make it an

  order?' look from the captain.

  Torres acquiesced with a nod and looped her arm through his, towing

  him toward the turbolift with more force than was strictly necessary

  to overcome his reluctance. "Come on, Starfleet. You can work on that

  search you've been doing for the perfect love poem to recite to

  Malista."

  Harry flinched away from her in surprise. He didn't think she, or

  anyone else, knew about that. Since he'd found out how fond Malista

  was of poetry, he'd been trying to find a poem somewhere in the

  database that would express how he felt about her in a way she would

  find memorable and flattering.

  Just as they reached the turbolift, the lift doors opened, Jenny

  Delaney strode onto the bridge. "Captain, I need to talk to you. I

  think Megan is hurt."

  Kim and Torres spun on their heels and, without waiting for

  permission, followed the redhead back towards the captain's seat.

  *************************

  Paris blinked at the sudden change in environment, startled to find

  himself dropping three feet from a sitting position to the floor

  without warning. The jarring impact rattled every sore muscle and bone

  in his body, causing him to clench his jaw to keep from shouting at

  the sudden pain. His second reaction was to feel pleased that, this

  time at least, the aliens hadn't separated him from Shadow when they

  were transported. He was still holding her hand when they stopped

  moving.

  The sounds of muffled curses, thumps, and heartfelt moans behind them

  signaled the arrival of the other four Voyager crewmen in a similar

  fashion. With a groan, Paris clambered to his feet then pulled Malista

  upright.

  "Are you all right?" they asked each other in unison. "I'm fine," they

  chorused. Reluctant smiles appeared.

  "We're beginning to sound like the Delaney twins," Shadow commented.

  "It's a sibling thing," Paris explained as he turned to assess the

  condition of his involuntary away team, relieved that he finally had

  an achievable goal to work toward.

  Without waiting for instructions, Malista immediately put her first

  aid training and natural protective instincts to use. She went towards

  the other women first, leaving the men to Paris. A quick assessing

  look showed that Lamont was shivering with cold and that seemed to be

  the extent of her problem. Malista quickly stripped off her jacket and

  draped it around the smaller woman's shoulders. The blond clutched it

  thankfully and worked at warming herself, blowing on her hands to try

  to return the circulation to her nearly frozen fingers.

  Shadow turned toward Delaney next, concerned with the apparent damage

  and bruising of her right elbow. Megan shook her head. "It's sore, but

  I'll live. Take care of the others first."

  Haldersen was on his feet---his bare blue feet. Though self-conscious

  about his unclothed state, he was seemingly uninjured and offered a

  supportive arm to the redhead, frowning uneasily as he took in the

  discoloration and swelling of her arm and its contrast with the pallor

  of her face. She leaned on him heavily as they followed Shadow to

  cluster around the only one of The Six who was not up and moving at

  the moment.

  Malista dropped to her knees next to Ensign Simms, whose more severe

  injury had apparently incapacitated him. Paris was kneeling on the

  other side of the young man. Janine Lamont seated herself behind

  Simms, waiting for a signal from Paris that would tell her how she

  could help.

  Ethan was lyin
g curled on his side on the floor, obviously in agony.

  His left knee was cradled protectively in his hands. The drop when

  he'd been relocated to this room had aggravated the damage to his leg,

  sending shock waves of pain coursing through him. He'd managed not to

  scream aloud, but a steady litany of indistinguishable words and

  hisses of pain were escaping his compressed lips.

  Paris was patiently waiting for Simms to recover a measure of his

  composure. At a nod from the pilot, Shadow placed one gentle hand on

  the ensign's shoulder and waited for him to acknowledge her. She

  didn't want to startle him. Startling Security Officers often had

  unfortunate side effects for both parties. "Ethan?" she said quietly.

  His kelly green eyes were glazed as he gazed up at her, recognition

  dawning after a moment. "Malista?" He held his breath momentarily,

  exhaling shakily as he tried to relax taut muscles and screaming nerve

  ends. He accepted the gentle guidance of her hands and allowed her to

  turn him onto his back.

  "Yes. Tom and I want to check your knee. Do you know what happened?"

  She kept talking, trying to distract him. She handed Tom the knife

  from her boot. He slit the leg of the ensign's sweatpants from his

  ankle to halfway up his thigh, then handed the knife back to Malista

  who sheathed it.

  The young man's eyelids drooped wearily. "I'd hoped I was the only

  one. Is Janine---"

  Before he could finish the thought, Lamont scooted up behind him

  within range of his vision. Carefully lifting his head, she pillowed

  it on her lap. "Right here, darling. Just lie still and let us see

  what we can do about your leg." She placed one chilly hand on his

  overly warm forehead and the other on his cheek.

  He sighed, nestling into her palms as if the coolness brought some

  relief. He placed his left hand over hers to keep it in place. Janine

  exchanged a worried look with Malista. He was feverish. A high fever?

  Due to his injury? Or was there something else wrong with him?

  Tom examined the swollen, purple joint, trying not to induce more

  injury or pain with his inspection. He scowled. "I think your knee is

  dislocated. Do you know how it happened, Ethe?"

  "No," the young man hissed through clenched teeth, struggling to

  reassert some control over his voice and expression. He could feel his

  face flush even hotter with embarrassment at being the center of

  attention. "It was like this when I woke up in that room."

  A frown traced its way briefly across the lieutenant's forehead. "I

  think the swelling and pain are only going to get worse---unless I put

  the joint back in place." He met the younger man's eyes squarely.

  "I'll be honest with you, Ethan. I've got a field medic's training.

  I've studied what to do, but I've never actually done this before."

  Green eyes met blue. Ethan knew beyond a doubt that Paris would do his

  best. And he really didn't have a lot of options. "Do it, Lieutenant."

  Tom drew in a shaky breath, moved by the trust the Security Officer

  placed in him. "Okay. We don't have any anesthetics. No medkit. I'll

  try to get it done as quickly and painlessly as possible, but to tell

  you the truth---this is going to hurt like hell, Ethe. But when it's

  done, it should help relieve the swelling and lessen the pain until we

  can get you back to Sickbay and the Doc's tender mercies and sparkling

  personality."

  The auburn haired man nodded, his lips narrowing to a grim line as he

  bit down on his back teeth and braced himself.

  Paris encompassed their companions in his gaze. "Janine, you hold his

  head. Sven, can you kneel next to her? Put an arm across his shoulders

  and hold down his other leg. If he moves around, it may make it harder

  to do it right the first time. Malista, give Ethan your knife. He can

  bite down on the handle. You hold his hands."

  Shadow placed the hilt of the knife in Simms' mouth, smiling

  reassuringly at him as she took his hands in her own. "No, I'll hurt

  you," the ensign protested, noticing how slender and small her long

  fingers were compared to his own blunt digits.

  She considered his words for an instant. "All right. Hold my wrists

  and I'll hold yours. Don't worry, Ethan. I'm stronger than I look.

  Just pretend we're hanging from a trapeze. If you let go, I'll fall."

  She grasped his wrists and nodded encouragingly as he reluctantly

  wrapped his hands around her forearms.

  With Janine behind him, Ethan chose to focus on Malista's kind face to

  keep his mind off Paris and what he was going to do. He could almost

  feel a wave of warmth and compassion coming toward him from the light

  in her eyes.

  "Ready?" Tom managed to keep the nervousness from showing in his

  voice. He was silently praying for the courage to do this and the

  wisdom and skill to do it right. There was no way of knowing how long

  it would be before Ethan could be treated in Voyager's Sickbay. They

  couldn't afford to mess this up. It would cost Simms too much in terms

  of suffering.

  Receiving nods from all his assistants, Paris placed his hands firmly

  on the ensign's leg. "On the count of three. One. Two. Three." With a

  yank and a twist, the joint popped back into place with an audible

  crackle that made those who heard it wince in commiseration.

  Ethan's body spasmed and he screamed at the brief jolt of agony, the

  sound muffled by the knife hilt clenched between his teeth.

  Mercifully, he passed out.

  Janine whimpered sympathetically and stroked his face caressingly.

  Megan patted her shoulder. "He'll be all right. He's a strong man. You

  made a good choice," Delaney said, a hint of envy peeking through her

  words.

  Tom, who was almost as pale as Simms at this point, took the

  opportunity to check the knee again. He nodded, sighing his relief as

  his twanging nerves eased their hold on his own breathing. "It worked.

  It's back in place." He smiled over the young man's head at Janine

  Lamont. Tears were streaming from her grateful eyes as she smiled

  weakly in return. She leaned over and kissed Ethan's forehead.

  Shadow smiled at Paris and lightly pushed his shoulder in sisterly

  affection. "Too bad Tuvok isn't here. He could have given Ethan a

  Vulcan neck pinch to put him out." She glanced up. "Megan, let Tom

  check your elbow. You may have the same type of problem as Ethan."

  Delaney obediently moved toward Paris who got to his feet. He took her

  wrist gently and pushed the ripped sleeve of her shirt away from the

  swollen elbow. "How the hell did this happen?"

  Sven Haldersen cleared his throat. "I believe our captors might have

  been testing the range of the joints. Possibly studying how they

  work."

  "What?" Janine asked, numbly. "Why would they do that?"

  "You always study the anatomy of the----animals you capture for

  study," Haldersen, the biologist, said reluctantly. "It's standard

  procedure."

  ************************

  The meeting had been relocated to the briefing room. "All right,

  Lieutenant Delaney. Let's hear it. What
do you mean Megan is hurt? How

  do you know?" Captain Janeway inquired.

  "It's not something we talk about much. People tend to think

  it's---spooky," the redhead replied. "And there are enough speculative

  rumors about us and our love lives. We don't need to make it worse.

  Megan and I are identical twins. We're connected."

  "Are you referring to telepathy in some form?" Tuvok asked.

  Jenny considered that. "No, nothing that clear cut. It's more like

  empathy. It only really kicks in when one of us is injured or in

  danger. When we were stationed on different ships during our Academy

  apprenticeships, I was hurt in a training accident. Megan knew it

  right away. I was incapacitated for two weeks. So was Megan. We

  figured out that at the moment I was hurt, Megan collapsed. The

  doctors attributed it to psychic trauma. Somehow we shared the injury.

  It's one reason there was no protest about keeping us assigned to the

  same ship. It was added on a confidential basis to our personal

  medical histories."

  Kathryn Janeway was fascinated by the idea, her scientific curiosity

  aroused, but didn't allow herself to be sidetracked. Not now. "Jenny,

  how much can you tell us about Megan's situation right now? Can you

  tell us anything about the others?"

  Jenny shook her head, frustration etched across her delicate features

  as she tossed her red hair over her shoulder. "For the first couple of

  hours, I wasn't getting anything. I would guess that she wasn't awake.

  A little while ago, I started getting---twinges." She cradled her