Trials 04 Shadow's Trial

by Terri Zavaleta

  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