right elbow in her left palm. "I think her arm is hurt. Her elbow. I
can't tell anything about anyone else. But I do know, she's nervous,
but she's not seriously afraid."
"And you think that means what exactly?" Chakotay asked.
"I think if she were alone, she would be much more anxious," Jenny
added. "I think she's scared, but she has it under control."
"Maybe all six of them are together?" Janeway speculated. "Why take
them? Is it because we failed to correctly understand and interpret
the message they were sending? Does anyone have an idea where to look
for them?"
"We've scanned all the planets in this system three times without
finding any life signs," Kim reminded them all unnecessarily. "And we
haven't detected any traces of a power signature that would indicate a
ship nearby."
"Perhaps the aliens are shielded from our sensors," Tuvok said.
Janeway was frowning thoughtfully, trying to remember something that
had been teasing at her mind since the morning briefing. "B'Elanna,
Tom mentioned something about having strange dreams. Did he tell you
anything about them? Perhaps part of the message did get through,
though he may not have recognized it."
B'Elanna was keeping her emotions reined in, but her patience was
eroding rapidly. "He mentioned at breakfast that he was dreaming about
the spots dancing in front of his eyes. He kept kidding around about
it. He talked about naming them, silly stuff like that. Strange
shapes, weird colors. That's all I can remember." She abruptly slammed
her fist on the table, her frustration demanding a physical release.
She sat and glowered at her knuckles as if they offended her by not
making more of an impact.
Harry covered her fist with his hand and squeezed. "Captain, Malista
was talking in her sleep last night..." He blushed at the sudden
startled looks directed his way. "She fell asleep while we were
talking," he explained hastily.
"Go on, Harry," Janeway said with an admonitory glance at the others
who quickly took their eyes off the embarrassed ensign. "What did she
say?"
"She muttered the word 'dome'. Or 'home'? No, I'm sure it was 'dome',"
Kim nodded decisively. "What if the aliens are shielded from our
sensors by some kind of dome? Like a domed city?"
"Why would they live under a dome?" Chakotay asked. "Which planet has
the kind of atmospheric conditions that would make a dome necessary?"
Tuvok raised one eyebrow. "The answer to that question would, of
necessity, be speculative in nature since we have no description of
the nature of the inhabitants."
The First Officer frowned impatiently at the Vulcan. "Let's assume for
the moment that part of the message they intended to send was their
location. That would be a reasonable, *logical* assumption. If they
did use the word 'dome' or the image of a domed city was somehow
conveyed to Malista, which planet would be the most likely place to
begin our search?"
Tuvok sighed. Janeway got the feeling he was humoring them as he
replied, "Given those parameters, unsubstantiated as they are, the
fourth planet would seem to be the most logical location. Our sensors
detected seismic disturbances which lead to quakes and eruptions that
frequently pollute the atmosphere."
"Thank you, Tuvok!" Kim said enthusiastically, jumping to his feet,
prepared to return to Ops to continue the search. The captain's raised
eyebrows halted him.
"I haven't given the order yet, Mr. Kim," she reprimanded mildly.
"Though I appreciate your fervor. Dismissed." They all got to their
feet and started moving towards the exit.
With a loud gasp, Jenny Delaney grabbed her elbow and screamed.
"Megan!" She fainted and sprawled across the table before anyone could
reach her.
Commander Chakotay slapped his commbadge. "Transporter Room 2.
Emergency transport. Lock on Lt. Jenny Delaney and transport her to
Sickbay."
************************
"Well, at least we're moving up in the world," Paris commented
sarcastically. "This room is about four times larger than the ones we
occupied before."
After the immediate need to treat the injured had been dealt with,
Paris and Haldersen had explored the limits of their new cage and
returned to join the others. The larger room they had been transported
into seemed to be a common area. It was mostly empty space with a hard
metallic floor, but there were a couple of benches along one wall to
form a sitting area. Two other walls were long, blank expanses, while
the fourth wall of the room contained open, doorless entries to three
smaller rooms that contained hexagon-shaped beds. All their poking,
prodding, inspecting, and wall thumping had failed to uncover any kind
of door mechanism that they could use to provide a means of escape.
The Six were still sitting, lying, or standing in the center of the
common room, lacking the will, energy, or motivation to move. They
found they were reluctant to get too far from each other. 'Better to
hang together than to hang separately,' Paris thought, trying to think
of any possible course of action.
Helplessness didn't sit well with the lieutenant. He kept one eye on
Malista while he was thinking. Though outwardly calm, he could tell
she was almost vibrating with nervous energy. Sitting idle and waiting
for their captors to take action was making her anxious.
Ethan Simms opened groggy eyes, blinked at what he saw directly in his
line of sight, and moaned, "Am I seeing things or does someone have
blue feet?"
Sven Haldersen stepped back to give Ethan a better, less close-up look
at him. "That would be me. Yes. My feet are blue. And my boots are
missing. They probably took some kind of casts to study the bone
structure and the casting material left some residual color."
Janine Lamont helped Simms struggle to a sitting position, encouraging
him to continue leaning on her as a back rest.
"I don't think we have one complete uniform among the six of us,"
Paris commented ruefully and shook his head. He plucked at his black
tee-shirt as he surveyed the others.
Simms was wearing a sweatshirt, his sweatpants slit to accommodate the
bandages on his still swollen knee. Haldersen was wearing what was
left of his uniform trousers and was shirtless and shoeless. Delaney
was in thin slacks and a torn and tattered tee-shirt, the long sleeve
split to above her swollen elbow. Lamont, who was wearing skimpy
jogging shorts and a tank top, had finally warmed up thanks to the
gift of Malista's jacket which was much too long on her. It
practically formed a mini-dress on the much shorter woman and the
sleeves had been rolled up four times to allow her to use her hands.
Paris shook his head again as he studied his involuntary 'away team'.
"We're all out of uniform. And Malista, the only one who WAS in
uniform is reduced to her tank top and raggedy shorts. Good thing
Chakotay isn't here. We'd all be on report." Paris al
most smiled as he
continued, "What a motley crew!"
Shadow's uniform had fallen victim to the needs of the others. She'd
used her knife to slice the legs off her trousers just above the knees
in order to form bandages to support Ethan's knee and to make bandages
and a sling for Megan's arm. Her turtleneck had gone for the same
purpose, forming padding to cushion the neck strap of the sling.
"What's motley?" Megan asked, wincing as Malista helped her slip her
injured arm into the sling.
"An incongruous mixture," Shadow replied absent-mindedly as she
finished tying off the sling's ends into a knot at the base of the
other woman's neck.
"What's incongruous?"
"Lacking in harmony. Not in agreement---oh, you!" Malista frowned, her
eyes narrowing at her friend suspiciously as she caught the twinkle in
the blue eyes. She realized her friend was trying to distract her from
the worried thoughts chasing around in her head. "Stop playing dumb
with me. You're not my type anyway."
Delaney grinned in acknowledgment of the hit. As taught by the Delaney
twins, Shadow's flirting lessons had included the oldest one in the
book---playing dumb. It might be an old, even ancient technique, but
it still worked in the short term---at least with some men.
"Well, I have to agree with Tom on this one," Lamont said. "We do look
odd."
Shadow moved restlessly. Now that there were no needs to be met,
nothing to be accomplished, the young woman began to tense. The lack
of activity was quickly beginning to wear on her nerves. Unthinkingly,
she began to move around the room, not going too far from the group,
but distancing herself slightly. Pacing wasn't enough. She needed
something more strenuous. She began to do some of the stretching
exercises she usually utilized before a work-out. They always relaxed
her mentally as well as physically.
After a few preliminary moves, she stretched her hands high above her
head as if reaching for the dome high above them, then slowly bent at
the waist until her palms rested flat on the floor in front of her.
One leg at a time, she brought her feet up until they were straight
above her as she held a handstand. After a moment, she completed the
movement by gradually bringing her feet down past her head, forming
her back into a U-shape before uncurling into a vertical position and
stretching once more.
"Very nice, Sis," Tom Paris remarked. He was amused to see the mutual
blushing going on when Malista became aware of Sven's admiring gaze
and when Sven realized he'd been caught staring his appreciation of
her lithe figure. Shadow quickly came to hover next to Paris, using
him as a shield between herself and the eyes of the others.
"I was never that limber in my life," Janine commented enviously.
"Oh, I don't know," Simms began with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.
"Ethan!" Janine's scandalized exclamation brought a halt to whatever
the young man had planned to say.
He gave her a penitent look, widening his green eyes. "What?" He could
tell she was frightened, not only for herself, but for him. Diverting
her attention also took his mind off his own problem.
She shook a finger at him threateningly. "Watch it!"
He caught her hand and kissed it. "I'd rather watch you."
"Does anyone know how long we've been here?" Megan Delaney asked.
Sven Haldersen's stomach suddenly growled---loudly. There was a
general chorus of snickers or chuckles. The big Swede had the
reputation for having an appetite that was as predictable as a
heartbeat. It was said that Neelix could set the messhall chronometer
by the rumblings of Sven's stomach. He needed to be fed promptly or
there were dire consequences for those who had to deal with him.
"I didn't have breakfast," Haldersen said sheepishly. "I think it's
been at least four hours. I'm overdue for some food."
"You could use some water," Janine whispered to Simms. He still felt
hot to her touch as she stroked his face. He murmured quiet
reassurances for her ears alone.
Tom looked down at Malista who was trying once more to become
invisible by standing half behind and half beside him. Her arms were
wrapped around herself as if she was self-conscious about the
scantiness of what was left of her uniform. "What are you doing, Sis?"
She refused to meet his eyes, just shrugged and stepped a little
further behind him. He turned and faced her, one hand fondly grasping
her shoulder. "What?" he asked. She shook her head as she bit her lip.
"Is this because we were looking at you when you were stretching?"
She shrugged again, with pretended indifference.
"Or because of the way we were looking at you?" he probed. She
shrugged again and started to move away from him, though there was
really no place to go. "Or more especially, the way Sven was looking
at you?" he added sharply, suddenly suspicious.
A red tide of color again swept up her neck and into her cheeks.
Unwillingly, she nodded. She was unprepared for Tom's reaction.
In less than a moment, Tom's usual fluid grace disappeared, his body
tautening like a bowstring. His blue eyes, without warning, became
opaque, a cold cadet blue, as he shot a glare of resolute menace in
Haldersen's direction. "Is he one of the men who---" His usual
pleasant tenor was almost a snarl.
"Tom, no!" Malista put a restraining hand on his rigid forearm.
The amiable Haldersen, catching the baleful glower on the lieutenant's
face, reflexively took a step back. He'd never thought of the pilot as
intimidating before but, at this moment, Paris' expression made it
clear that he could be a dangerous enemy. The unexpectedness of the
transition just made it all the more threatening.
Sven didn't know what he'd done to make the taller man angry, but
whatever it was---he flashed a glance at Malista. He'd known that
Paris was protective of Shadow, but this seemed like a more intense
reaction than his own behavior warranted. It was just a look, after
all. He hoped she could convince her 'brother' that no offense had
been intended when he'd stared at her. Though a large man and trained
in self-defense, Sven was a scientist, not a fighter.
Shadow shook his arm until Paris took his eyes off the other man and
met her own. "Tom, Sven is *not* one of them. Stop it." As a
precaution, she reversed their positions, quickly moving between Paris
and Haldersen and blocking him with her body from moving toward the
other man. Angry or not, Malista couldn't make herself believe that
Tom Paris would ever hurt her.
The lieutenant took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling the fury
drain out of him like a slow air leak in a pressure suit. He
absentmindedly sent an apologetic smile towards Haldersen then focused
on Shadow's face once more.
Shadow seemed to have calmed Paris down for now, but Haldersen planned
to keep an eye on the lieutenant anyway. The Swede shrugged off his
unease and engaged Megan Delaney in conversation, hoping to take her
> mind off her worry and the pain of her injured elbow. Megan was quite
willing to resume the flirtation they had begun on the ship some weeks
ago and cooperated enthusiastically.
"So Haldersen isn't involved?" Paris asked intently, trying to make
sure she wasn't just pacifying him.
Malista watched, concerned, as the flush of rage ebbed from Paris'
face, leaving him somewhat paler than normal. B'Elanna had tried to
tell her how frightening and implacable Tom could look when he lost
his temper---and Malista hadn't quite believed her. She had thought
Torres was exaggerating wildly. Now she knew it hadn't been B'Elanna's
imagination. And his ferocity was all the more stunning because of the
swiftness of its onset.
Shadow wanted nothing more at this moment than to mollify him. The
abrupt change from easy-going charm to icy cold rage almost frightened
her with its intensity. Even if that rage was on her behalf.
"No, Tom," she said in as soothing a tone as she could manage. She
stroked his forearm rhythmically, having noticed that touch was
important in reassuring the older man. "I promise you. Sven is a nice
man. He's more interested in Megan and Jenny than in me. In fact, I
was just thinking that the way Sven was looking at me..."
"What about it?" His eyes were warm blue pools as he encouraged her to
follow her line of thought. He could tell that she'd been alarmed by
his outburst. He drew in a slow breath and tried to reassure her with
Trials 04 Shadow's Trial Page 39