Disclaimers, ratings and warnings are in Part 1.
THE BADLANDERS
PART EIGHT
"Captain Janeway!" cried the Ketarchan, his distress obvious in his green eyes.
The Ketarchan looked like he could drive ten daggers through him. The Vulcan - still in sick bay - appeared impassive. Chakotay was certain that the extraordinary glint in the Vulcan's eyes was one where he would, without compassion, pluck the life from him with the pressure of two fingers.
If the Vulcan killed him, it would be nothing. His life meant nothing before now. It was the weightless woman in his arms who needed medical attention, who concerned him beyond his expectations. They could think what they liked. The Vulcan stepped closer, his bearing threatening. Of course he raped the woman on the biobed. Of course he beat her senseless, of course he beat her to a pulp, of course he...
Chakotay was afraid of no-one.
He challenged the Vulcan.
"Come one step closer, Vulcan, and I'll have you ejected out an airlock into the nearest plasma turbulence."
It gratified him to see Tuvok step back, though not that far. It also surprised him that he spared Tuvok's life. Goddammit! Yesterday he wouldn't have thought twice of doing just that.
"Move!"
Tuvok backed down. Chakotay didn't want him in his face.
He placed Kathryn on the main biobed, the one she had occupied when he had come to collect her. He remembered her face then, the momentary fear she tried to bank down, they way she walked with him to his quarters.
"This is not you. You're not yourself..." she had said with quiet dignity.
Torres had guffawed all the way down the corridor until they reached his cabin and he had glared at the Klingon. She stopped laughing instantly.
He wasn't himself? Hell, that was an understatement. He whipped Megan Delaney into submission, fucked Jenny's brains out, lashed too many young ensigns or simply shoved his cock deep into their untried virgin depths, laughing at the way they screeched like scared pigs. He didn't think that was abnormal.
But Janeway got to him and he had almost killed her. He never killed a woman on his bed. Janeway had come close. And that had been because she resisted him without once fighting back, without ever raising her voice. No, just her aristocratic bearing.
Yeah. He wasn't himself. He had gone overboard with Janeway.
He tried again, vainly, to blot out his deviant behaviour. He had always been deviant, always enjoyed seeing the dominated squirm, laughing at their humiliation and shame. He fucked any orifice as hard and as often and as long as he could hold his cock stiff. It didn't matter to him. The ass was as good as the pussy, as good as the mouth. Hell, a girl's mouth... He made them cocktails of his semen to drink before ramming his hard shaft down their mouths afterwards. He tied them down on all fours, ordering them to move about like a dog and like a dog he would drive himself to madness feeling how their little asses opened and closed round his heated rod. Most times he had had Ayala and Dalby in and then they'd all three fill up the trussed girl and fuck her till she lost consciousness. He'd want to be so deep in a girl's mouth that he'd make her lie on her back, cover her head with his hips and drive his cock into her mouth, fucking like he was positioned over her pussy. Ayala easily sat behind him and got into the girl's pussy.
Sometimes, they roared as they climaxed, especially when they whipped the girl into a frenzy that she spilled all over them. Once he had Torres spread before him and he roughly exposed her pink clit, larger than anything he had ever seen. Then he'd take a plastic staff and he'd whip her clit by flicking it hard against her until she screamed her orgasm with energetic pleasure.
Deviant.
Why was it bothering him now? Why were there dark specks - blobs of tiny shadows really - dancing in front of his eyes?
"Fix her up, Doc. Now."
He watched the doctor remove the bed cover from Kathryn's body. She lay naked, exposed before them. She was beginning to stir awake, moaning. He didn't want to look at the Ketarchan or the Vulcan or listen to their inward muttering of anger. He kept his eyes on Kathryn's wounds, long, ugly red streaks across her breasts, stomach, pubis, arms, thighs, neck, calves. He heard the sharp intake of the doctor's breath, heard the shuffle of feet as Tuvok threatened again forward. Without looking, his hand had already drawn the d'k tagh and he was pointing it at Tuvok's neck.
"One move from you… If you neck pinch me here, my crew will come looking. I've alerted them," he hissed like an angry cobra, then focused his attention again on the damaged body of Kathryn Janeway.
The specks bothered him again. Like little wisps that teased his retina, maddeningly picked at the part of the eye in which silent figures from a distant past danced upside down, mocking him.
Why had she been Janeway all the time and when he couldn't control himself, he whispered the name "Kathryn" with so much desperation? What in hell's damnation happened to him? Yeah, she was right. He very definitely was not himself. Was he then a version of Chakotay again? The alter ego that tapped his shoulder and reminded him he had another side?
His fingers curled tightly round the handle of the Klingon dagger. Spirits, he should drive the thing into his own flesh just to feel some pain. The doctor hesitated before starting treatment. He looked up to see the Ketarchan's eyes on him.
"Get on with it, Doctor…"
"You must leave, Captain Chakotay."
The Ketarchan held the scanner ready. The regenerator was also on hand to repair broken skin, relieve her pain.
Chakotay sheathed the d'k tagh and curled his fingers round the doctor's wrist.
"I will stay."
"Only so that you can violate her again, Captain? This woman… It is the worst I have seen - "
Chakotay saw red, the dark specks still troubling him. He was having trouble just seeing them and breathing was a jagged essay of inhaling and expelling air. Then he gave a little sigh.
"I will make certain no one touches her."
"Captain Chakotay, with respect, this is the work of one man…"
He almost, almost decked the doctor right there. Why was he feeling guilt?
"It will not happen again, Doc. I give you my word."
"Your word," began Tuvok, "is only as good as the sounds coming from your mouth. They leave it empty."
He looked at Tuvok, bit out, "Seems to me you haven't heard a word I said, Vulcan. I will not harm her again."
Tuvok nodded stoically.
The Ketarchan continued working on Kathryn, repairing primarily broken skin, dimming the dark ugly bruises that were forming on her buttocks, everywhere on her body.
"There are two hairline fractures," he said, listing her injuries.
When he turned her on her back again, her eyes were open and she looked straight at Chakotay. Her hair fell about her face in long golden tresses. Chakotay choked. Her hair was caked with blood.
But her eyes...
It was a moment in which he knew he would have to accept and live with her defiance, however subtle it appeared. He was never going to get into her head. Her eyes darkened. She had no more pain. It was shame mixed with anger that stared at him. Why did she remain fearless now?
"Chakotay?"
He
frowned. She could have heard it from anyone on board, or down in the cargo when
they came to collect the prisoners. In fact, she called him by his name there
too. He had been too preoccupied, already too into Jenny's waiting cunt to
notice. No, it issued from her mouth as a sound familiar to her, and ought to be
familiar to him. The specks appeared again and he blinked hard.
"How do you know my name?"
She turned her head away from him but he leaned over and made her look at him.
"I won't hurt you again…ever..." he promised, perplexed and surprised that his words sounded genuinely compassionate, that the remorse that sat deep in his gut flew out with the words, tinting each letter, each syllable with a kindness alien to him. It was a promise that came from his very depths.
Yet he knew, he wanted her with him, during the day, at night, in his bed.
Did something in his eyes give him away? Why couldn't he see her properly? Why was he feeling as if Earth, way in Federation space, blue planet with a body of water larger than its body of land was swallowing him? He grit his teeth, tried desperately to remain standing. The waves of nausea, the sudden onset of a headache did nothing to relieve this strange feeling of drowning somewhere.
Her voice came from far, over mountain tops, blue skies, bright skies and land, beautiful land with long grass gambolling like lambs as the wind played with it.
"Chakotay…Chakotay…"
With superhuman effort he dragged himself back to the known, the familiar, away from the kindest, most melodious way his name had ever sounded. When at last he could see clearly again, three pairs of eyes were on him.
"What - what did you say?"
"You can stop the violence on your vessel, Chakotay. Only you can do it," came Kathryn's soft voice.
And instantly, the aggression was back.
"No! No, this is my ship. My rules, my codes, my contract."
"Captain Chakotay, I'd like to keep Captain Janeway here for observation…"
He turned from the Ketarchan to the Vulcan to Kathryn.
"At 2100 I will come to collect you, Janeway," he said suddenly, feeling the old vengefulness rising in him.
He left, ignoring their protestations.
****
The moment Chakotay was out of earshot, Kathryn looked up at Doctor Krell, pulling the cover protectively around her body. She was without any clothing now, her uniform, torn and soiled, lay in Chakotay's cabin.
"Captain, I am indeed deeply sorry that you have had to endure such inhumane treatment," said Krell. "You require rest." He held the hypospray up and as if it were a trigger of some kind, Kathryn gave a little cry of consternation.
"Please…no hypos, Doctor. I - " Her eyes closed. She had been semi-conscious when Chakotay violated her, awake when Torres fondled her. She needed to be awake. She had noticed how Chakotay himself was close to collapsing. Something was happening to him, something out of the ordinary. While the doctor remained sceptical, it was Tuvok who knew what may have troubled Chakotay. But, as bad as their situation seemed, they had to bide their time, and every minute longer on this vessel with a leader who thought nothing of raping and pillaging, spelled further humiliation for her and the rest of the survivors.
"Captain, about the MRT..."
She sighed deeply, wondering if she should tell the doctor. What if they too, had died in the explosion? Did a strange quirk of fate keep them alive? Chakotay had transported ten of them to his ship. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. Chakotay was far, far more evil than she had imagined. Yet, he transported key personnel from Voyager...
"All I can tell you, Doctor Krell, is that we have to be back in Federation space at the Vulcan Science Institute to remove the transponder successfully..."
"If we make it out of here, Captain, I would much appreciate to witness the procedure."
"The only problem we have, Doctor," is that it cannot be done without a family member of the Captain present..."
With that it seemed they appeased Doctor Krell. Her mother was dead and Phoebe... Kathryn's hand balled into fists. She depended heavily on Phoebe...
Kathryn lay back on the biobed. She felt inordinately tired, trying not to think of Chakotay's body joined with hers, or Torres's probing fingers. She felt again the humiliation of climaxing when Torres fondled her, but that had been because she had lost concentration for a moment, seeing a face, a familiar face with loving eyes and hands, hands that would never, ever have lifted a finger to inflict any kind of harm on her. That had been her undoing. Chakotay's body had moved with hers, and even though she was hardly conscious, she sensed instinctively that she had unsettled him, that she had become a person, not an object he violated, but a body with a name that made her real to him.
"Doctor," she asked, when a thought struck her, "where are the others?"
"Harry Kim is still alive, Captain."
She sighed with relief.
"Jenny?"
There was a long pause. Jenny Delaney had been the first to be removed from the cargo bay... Kathryn's eyes flew open.
"Jenny, Doctor?"
"I am afraid she has died, Captain Janeway."
It was more than she could bear as she closed her eyes and allowed a tear to roll down her cheek. She choked back a sob. Jenny Delaney, Megan's identical twin. Jenny, fun loving, yet so serious as a stellar cartographer. Jenny, blonde, beautiful, kind... If they had been a gang that attacked her, someone had to lead the gang. It wasn't Chakotay. Chakotay had been with her...
"Who - who was responsible, do you know?"
"Thomas Eugene Paris, Captain. Lieutenant Delaney must have resisted very hard. Skin under her fingernails, her teeth... Semen... There were traces of his DNA on Jenny's body. If there were others who helped, Paris was the primary culprit."
Another long silence ensued. Tuvok gave a little cough.
"There's something you're not telling me, Krell," she said, exhausted.
"Tell her, Doctor Krell."
"What is it?"
"Tom Paris's DNA matches yours, Captain Janeway."
***********
END PART EIGHT