Rating: R for sexual overtones and language

 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

 

March 2371: The Science Institute - Cardassia Prime

 

It was quiet in room 23 of the Medical Suite of Science Institute. Sedeka had been in this section of the Institute for the third month and the project was complete, with only final tests to be run. She lay with her eyes closed, and only occasionally her eyelids would flutter then close again, or a nerve in her jaw would twitch. Her lips were parched and she was thirsty. Mostly, her hands lay loosely at her sides and they would clench and unclench, so that her knuckles stood white against her skin.

 

Sometimes, she would utter a cry that lifted her from the bed; then she would slump down, exhausted as fine beads of perspiration swelled from the pores on her forehead. She had not wanted to look at Gul Evek in the last few days. He had not been entirely happy with her idea when she broached it almost three months ago, but then she'd gone to his superiors and convinced them that her plan would work. Evek had been in a murderous mood, and when he got her alone, showed her just how in control he was and how much her last meeting with Chakotay meant to her. Evek had kept her chained to his bed for hours, and while her body had refused to obey her and unwillingly bent itself to Evek's will, her mind had been shut off from what he was doing to her. Even that was short lived. He sensed it too soon, and then he took pleasure in making her co-operate in his bed as if there had never been any other man for her. She had often wondered how she could attune herself so to Gul Evek's lust and at the same time allowed Chakotay to get under her skin.

 

Her last communication with Chakotay...

 

Even now, with her eyes closed, the complete stupefaction and embarrassment when she finally woke from her stupor washed over her and she gave a grunt of pain. She had been a fool. After Dorvan V her body craved the Native American. Her entire mission, from a personal point of view, backfired on her. She had become gullible but mostly vulnerable, and Chakotay had known how he could pay her back. He had always known. Her mission had been accomplished: get Chakotay off Dorvan V or just keep him out of the way. That had been the deal. The deal paid unanticipated dividends. Kathryn Janeway separated from her husband and perhaps it was the fact that his wife was no longer with him that paved the way for her to make a serious play for him. Not that she had any qualms to make a play for him, married or not.

 

So, she began dreaming of dark, smouldering eyes, a smooth tanned skin, the possibility that even after his hallucination, something of their union would remain embedded in his memory. He would still lust after her. She wanted him. She had been given a taste of total bliss with him; it was nothing like she had ever experienced in her life. There had been times when she had switched the imager off, then made him believe she was really Kathryn... Sedeka gave another small cry. Those hours he made love to her. They were not fucking like mindless dogs then. He had been gentle, loving and caressing. And even though he believed she was his wife, Sedeka had experienced what it was like to be loved. Her body just craved him with the kind of urgency and feeling that had been completely strange to her. Cardassian men took wives based mostly on their physical compatibility; things like tenderness, love, respect, compassion were secondary, and rarely expressed. She felt something for Chakotay that through the way he made love to her, she'd been jealous beyond measure that he could love his wife in all the ways that she discovered, a woman deserved to be loved.

 

It had been one of the risks of her job, and she had been drawn afterwards to Chakotay in a way she had never before been with or to any man. Always, she had been in control of her faculties, her main aim to subjugate with lust and using her body to prove her power over men. Nowhere had she been remotely touched by any man she bedded. They fucked her, she fucked them, and that was the end of that. Only Evek could make her lose control; she had always believed that they were drawn by their common need to control others, that they were of like minds. That had been their bond. There were no feelings that presented opposite of malice, of deviant behaviour in the way they copulated, of hatred and a cruel streak that separated them from the term "good". That was why she allowed Evek freedom with her. She enjoyed him, sometimes even made herself believe that she could love him.

 

Her grandmother was one of the lucky ones.

 

Abhail never marry.

 

On Dorvan V Chakotay made love to her. Even in his hallucinatory state when he believed he was making love to his wife, her body responded to him like it had not with any man. After that she fantasised about him, couldn't get him out of her mind, and, with pained hindsight, out of her system.

 

That was her downfall. She allowed pleasure to encroach on business and let the two become so meshed that when the time came to separate them, it was too late. Chakotay played her for the fool she was, brilliantly outmaneuvered her and paid her back in kind, using the same tools to destroy her that she used on him.

 

It was only thirty six hours after Chakotay entered her cabin that she woke up in a daze, hardly able to recognise her surroundings, and still in a state of extreme sexual pleasure that made her believe Chakotay was with her all the time.

 

She had opened her eyes, flushed by the aftermath of her orgasms. She saw his figure hovering over her in the darkened cabin. Her body felt on fire, as if he were still embedded in her. She ached inside, she realised a second later, and something - her vagina? - was still throbbing in rhythmic pulsing. She frowned heavily. Chakotay had bent over her, breathing heavily, murmuring words of love, hadn't he?

 

She gave a sob.

 

"Chakotay?"

 

"He's not here, Sub-commander."

 

Gul Evek. His voice sounded gruff, sarcastic.

 

She touched her body, trembling fingers ran over damp and sensitised skin until they touched the object. Along the way her fingers hooked into leather thongs secured around her waist. Lodged firmly between her legs and strapped to her so that it couldn't disengage, was something so thick that it must have torn her skin inside her sheath.

 

The light in the room had swelled so that she could see Evek clearly. He smiled maliciously down at her.

 

"You look...well fucked, Sedeka, by an artificial organ, no less."

 

"W-What? Where is Chakotay?"

 

"I let him go, for I will fight him another time."

 

Evek bent down and unstrapped the thongs. He pushed her back, spread her legs wide and slowly pulled the pulsing dildo from her. To her shame, her body still shuddered from the effects of her high orgasm. She had no time to get angry, or be bitter or fill herself with the need to pay Chakotay back, to take revenge.

 

No time...no time...

 

Gul Evek had simply slid himself between her legs and fucked her.

 

"This is so you can heal, Sedeka," he murmured as he cupped her face, looked deeply into her pained, shocked eyes and moved against her.

 

If she had the need to weep, Gul Evek had all but seen to it that there were no tears all the time his body was joined with hers. She had lain still, unresponsive, allowing him to caress her for once with something of a kindness she had not associated with Evek. Was it minutes or hours later? She must have suffered partial persistent vision, because at times she knew Evek moved inside her, and at others she was convinced it was Chakotay. Eventually, when she knew it was only Evek, her body had succumbed to his kindness and only then she responded, giving a hoarse cry as she reached a climax. He had stayed with her all night. Not once did she weep even though, at times, her body craved that release.

 

The hating came later. It had been good to hate Chakotay. That emotion superceded love which betrayed her. Thinking about how she found herself when she 'woke' up from her hallucination - the humiliation, the way Gul Evek claimed her body afterwards - fanned the embers of her hatred for what Chakotay had done to her and kept it burning brightly. If she had thought to destroy Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway, his retribution had been terrible.

 

Sedeka gave a sigh. To violate the women on Dorvan V when Cardassia claimed the planet, had been an idea spawned by her... Not that the soldiers needed any prompting from anyone. It was war. There were no rules. Still, it afforded her no relief, no satisfaction that she had paid Chakotay back. The soldiers reported how the burials rites had been a dignified affair. One soldier reported that he felt the Federation still triumphed in those moments. Her victory was a hollow one.

 

It was why she came up with this idea. She needed to save face, literally; needed one more chance to break the man who humiliated her. Their superiors had been pleased that she and Evek had wanted to make another attempt at bringing down Chakotay. They learned quickly that he had left the Federation and joined a band of renegades that picked off Cardassian vessels and strongholds with daring ease, while remaining as elusive as the Cardassian cat-walkers. Their strongholds and arms caches were found, destroyed and turned to nothing against the Federation who scavenged after the Maquis and whom their superiors now strongly believed, was given intelligence by the freedom fighters. Even with aid from their allies, the enemy proved invincible. Sedeka believed Chakotay lay at the heart of this insurgence, and it was why her plan had to succeed. Chakotay was their biggest threat almost a year ago; he still remained their biggest threat. Her mission would be to destroy Chakotay; her motivation, two-fold. She would gladly drive a dagger through his heart and watch him die.

 

Sedeka rose from the bed and stood before a small mirrored wall unit. She touched her face, caressed her smooth forehead and gave a little smile. There were no ridges. Except for the nose, her face was smooth, her skin as fair as the Bajorans or those Earthlings who were Caucasian.

 

"It will take at least two months to effect this radical change, Sedeka," Gul Evek had said when she approached him with her idea. "And I'm not convinced that you will be able to infiltrate the Maquis. Your feelings for Chakotay remain a risk factor..."

 

"Do not worry, Evek. This time you will be able to dispose of the bands of renegades we are having trouble containing."

 

"And you? You will lose face again, and then what? Will you have me save you again?"

 

"I will not fail you this time, Evek. Chakotay will not know what hit him..."

 

Gul Evek's eyes narrowed, then he gave her a sly grin.

 

"Then, my dear Sedeka, it will be as you wish."

 

**

 

"Your records show you were given at least two complete blood transfusions as a child," Doctor Omer Preiral had said as she lay on the narrow bed in the first week of the lengthy series of experiments. They had not done such a procedure before and work on her would serve as their blueprint for future references and requests from the Cardassian Union.

 

"I contracted a virus called Rouall's Syndrome. It changed my blood composition. I would not have survived," she replied.

 

"An interesting medical breakthrough. Your body's DNA changed to that of another Cardassian person whose DNA closely resembled yours?" Dr. Preiral asked. "Therefore your blood is technically not yours."

 

"I have always understood that it was donated by a kind woman who lost her husband and children."

 

"Yes," the scientist replied, analysing her blood carefully, "you will be the first Cardassian woman who will become a Bajoran. We could not change your blood because of this Syndrome, but I will make it 99% impossible to detect. You will look Bajoran, speak like a Bajoran, and there will be no external traces that you are really a Cardassian."

 

"Thank you, Doctor. It is what I wish."

 

"Good. The first phase will be completed in a week. However, I should warn you that some of the procedures will be painful."

 

"I look forward to it."

 

Her reply had sounded light, relieved. She had no compunction, no regret that she would look and act like a Bajoran. Yet, after that first week she had lost all her hair. The next three weeks had been the most painful when, after a series of injections, her skin changed slowly from the scaly, lizard-like appearance to the smooth alabaster it was now. She had borne her pain with courage, grit her teeth long and hard to subjugate her own pain and triumphed over it.

 

Sedeka's hand went to her left ear lobe and she fingered the Bajoran earring carefully. The new face that stared back at her now, after almost three months of tests and operations, was strangely familiar. It looked different, with not a trace of her Cardassian skin tone, not a trace of her ridges; her skin gleamed smoothly alabaster-like and even her eyes had changed to a grey-green cat-like colour and shape. It was different, yet familiar. Still, no one would ever recognise her. No one. In a detached manner she thought that the face that stared back at the Cardassian Sedeka was a beautiful face - a beautiful Bajoran woman who appeared aloof. The face was no more than a face which she could appraise coolly, even with a hint of bitterness. Her mind, her conscious, her soul - that was Cardassian. She shook her head slightly. She recognised her, but the Bajoran face had to grow with her conscious. Sedeka smiled, pleased with her new look. She had a new mission and she was fired up. Infiltrate the Maquis and bring Chakotay down, by whatever means necessary.

 

She had been glad then, and now, a little more than two months later, the final tests have been completed. All the time Gul Evek had been with her. After his short missions, he would return to the Science Institute to check on her progress, or to give her some encouragement. It was not wholly out of character for Evek, but she wondered mostly about his agenda. She could never be certain whether it was true affection for her or him just making certain she kept her end of the bargain.

 

Over two months she had become used to her new appearance. Her hair she had, of necessity, to dye a lighter colour. It hadn't taken much artificial dying, she thought wryly. As her physiology changed, everything about her body changed, even the colour of her hair. It was now a golden bronze colour, not unlike that of Kathryn Janeway's hair. Sedeka smiled at that thought.

 

She wasn't certain that she liked her evolution from Cardassian to Bajoran but she had to adapt. She could accept it as part of her work; of a devious scheme to infiltrate the enemy, but she was a Cardassian, proud of her race.

 

Her nose now had small ridges, and her features were a lot sharper than when she had been Cardassian. By the remotest of coincidences would anyone find out she was really Cardassian. Only her blood could tell, and only through micro-analysis of her DNA. What likelihood was there of that happening? No one would ever recognise her. The day after Doctor Preiral worked on her vocal chords, Evek had been surprised when she greeted him in another voice. Then his eyes had given off that steely glint again. Sedeka could immediately sense what he was thinking.

 

It would be good to copulate with a stranger who was not so strange...

 

Sedeka felt a lot thinner too, than before. She had to ascribe that to the rigorous eating regime she had been subjected to. Still, she missed the Cardassian Sedeka.

 

"I'm not gone," she told herself, "I am just in my other body... I am still me..."

 

She turned, momentarily startled when Gul Evek entered her room. He stared at her for long minutes, a keen look he gave as he raised his hand to touch her cheek. Sedeka frowned, wondering whether he liked what he saw, or couldn't reconcile the Cardassian woman with the Bajoran who faced him. She stood closer to him, her breasts just grazing the breast plate of his armour. He drew in his breath sharply and Sedeka gave an inward smile. Her touch was nothing that would make him turn away from her. Instead, she knew she could still turn him on. Her hand lowered to his crotch and just a slight grazing there affirmed his arousal.

 

Then she back away again, giving them both breathing space.

 

"So, Evek," she asked him finally, "what do you think?"

 

He gave a grunt of pleasure.

 

"That you'd make a good Bajoran mistress?"

 

"I'm also an undercover insurgent, Evek. Don't forget that."

 

"Oh, I’ll not forget, Sedeka. Come here..."

 

She stood closer again. Her Bajoran eyes narrowed.

 

"Out there," he stated with a soft curse, "you're going to spy for us. You'll do your job as a good Cardassian warrior."

 

"Yes, Evek."

 

"And you'll destroy Chakotay again."

 

"Yes, Evek."

 

"You hate Chakotay."

 

"Yes, Evek."

 

"Don't let it stand in the way of your mission. You screwed up before; he paid you back in kind. For once, the beautiful Sedeka was not in control of the situation. We want Chakotay dead, Sub-Commander, but your need for personal revenge could jeopardise your mission. We are giving you this chance to redeem yourself in the eyes of the Union..."

 

"I understand, Evek. I have already devised a way in which I will infiltrate. I am Bajoran, am I not? I will get my man..."

 

"Come here, woman," he said gruffly as he pulled her to him.

 

"Of course, I'll serve you first, Evek," she purred and smiled as he hardened against her. "I'll be away for some time, but I would not like to have you miss me..."

 

"Witch..." was his last word as his mouth locked with hers in a crushing kiss. Sedeka's hands came round his neck and her mouth opened under his. For several moments Evek punished her mouth but Sedeka was patient. She ran her fingers through his hair, felt rather than heard his groan as she pressed into him. Slowly, the tension changed, his mouth seeking, becoming soft, allowing her to feel his tenderness. When he broke off the kiss, he was panting, his eyes fevered as he held her face barely centimetres away from his own.

 

"I'm yours, Evek," she whispered.

 

"Preiral has left us alone for a few hours, Sedeka. No one will disturb us here..."

 

"Then I will leave with a good memory, Evek. I will return to you.."

 

"Sedeka."

 

"Yes, Evek?"

 

"You are in my blood."

 

"I know..."

 

***

 

April 2371 - First City of Komari

 

Three crew of the Liberty made their way along a dusty road of the First City of Komari in the Komari Star System in the Demilitarised Zone. B'Elanna was being outpaced by her much taller colleagues so her steps were shorter and faster as she tried to keep up with them. Ayala and Morrison were not aware of how she practically had to run next to them.

 

"So you say," she panted, "we're to meet two Bajoran dissidents here?"

 

"That's what Dalby said. One is a young boy, no more than sixteen years. His parents had been killed during the purge on Bajor. He had been lucky to escape and Dalby met him some months ago when he declined to join up in then."

 

"So what made him change his mind?" B'Elanna asked.

 

"He watched a close friend die a month ago," Ayala replied.

 

"Dalby knew of that?"

 

"Yeah. The kid sent a subspace message that he was ready to become a rebel. He figures he can kick some Cardassian ass very quickly once he's part of our group."

 

"So, what can this boy do?"

 

"Practically nothing, I guess. He's to work under you, B'Elanna."

 

"Oh? On whose orders?"

 

"As if you didn't know, Torres. Certainly not Dalby. Chakotay gives all the orders. Dalby probably consulted Chakotay."

 

"Oh."

 

Morrison, who had been quiet during the exchange between Ayala and B'Elanna, suddenly piped up.

 

"And who is the other person?"

 

"Don’t know. Maybe just someone wanting to tag along with Dalby's friend. You know them, Torres. They have nowhere to go, so they find a home in the Maquis."

 

"Or a convenient hiding place. Chakotay has no time for them."

 

"Hey," came B'Elanna's rejoinder, "I had nowhere to go."

 

"Huh-uh. No way. Chakotay went looking for you himself, remember? He reckoned you important enough to make contact personally, otherwise he sends Dalby or me - "

 

"And," Morrison cut in, "you've got to be able to do something useful for the ship."

 

"Chakotay's not like that, Morrison. I'm certain he'll take the kid, even if he has to be trained to become useful."

 

Morrison stopped in his tracks and stared at B'Elanna.

 

"What?" she asked, a little non-plussed at the way Morrison stared at her.

 

"You're really putting the Boss on a - a...pedestal, Torres. But then, The Boss likes you too."

 

"Maybe you should revise that, Morrison," B'Elanna growled. "Chakotay is happy with my work and I don't put him on a pedestal."

 

"Okay, then maybe not. But you like to defend him - "

 

"Wouldn’t you?" she bit back at Morrison and Ayala laughed at the way Morrison started walking fast again. He turned to look at B'Elanna and pointed a finger at her. There was a smile on his face and the horned nodes on his forehead appeared to redden.

 

"If you must know, Torres, I'll give my life for that man."

 

"There, see? You admire him too."

 

"Okay, okay!" Morrison said, laughing to hide his embarrassment.

 

Ayala joined in the laughter, then said, "But Chakotay still likes you, Torres."

 

"As a little sister, yes. The man is married. End of story," she barked suddenly at Ayala. Ayala slowed down and touched her shoulder.

 

"We know, Torres. But we can all see how he protects you."

 

"Yeah," Morrison piped up.

 

"Like you're real family," Ayala added.

 

"Fine, just keep it that way," she scowled.

 

B'Elanna didn't like them saying anything remotely disparaging about Chakotay, even just discussing him. She noticed from the start that Chakotay never liked discussing his private life. That first time in his office he had looked at the woman in the picture and his heart had been in his eyes for a moment. She had been given a peek into that Chakotay; the man who killed those Cardassians had a tenderness that few saw. He saved her life, he talked her through her nightmares, he was just such a rock she could lean against. Her scowl changed to a smile, and Ayala caught the change in her mood.

 

"So, there's no one else on the Liberty you like?" Ayala suddenly batted his eyelids at her and she gave him a playful rib. "Hmmm?" he persisted.

 

"Not unless I count you two morons." She liked Ayala, but she knew what he meant.

 

"Paris liked her, Ayala," Morrison offered.

 

"No way!"

 

"And you liked him too."

 

"Come on, B'Elanna. Admit it. You had the hots for Paris."

 

"What? He's a pig, Ayala, and you know it."

 

"You knew him only what, a week?"

 

"And most of the time he grated on my nerves."

 

"He's serving time, B'Elanna. He'll never work on your nerves again."

 

"Chakotay was a little sorry to see him go. Said he knew Tom's parents."

 

They all knew that Tom Paris had been charged with treason and sent to a correctional facility. It was Chakotay himself who relayed them the message in sombre tones. They had not ventured to ask how he knew the details. Standard procedure was known to them, but certain things Chakotay mentioned he couldn't have known, but they weren't supposed to pry. She didn't like Paris much, but regretted nonetheless that he was in jail.

 

"Pity," Morrison said.

 

"Why?" she asked.

 

"Paris took the rap for Henley and Dalby and he wasn't snitching. Means something, doesn't it?"

 

"So the man has a conscience. So what?"

 

Her sudden verbal about turn of her own regret that Tom was in jail was enough to throw them off the scent for a while, at least. She knew they weren't fooled, and she admitted grudgingly that her thoughts since Tom had gone, centred too much on a dashing, smirking, blonde-haired, blue-eyed pilot who was far too handsome for his own good. What did he see in her? A half-Klingon, half-human woman with too much aggro. That's what.

 

"Maybe you can ask the Boss to send Tom intelligence that there's someone who misses him..."

 

B'Elanna bristled.

 

"See this fist, Ayala?" B'Elanna started. "I'll - "

 

"Hey, we're almost there," Morrison said, breaking the rising tension.

 

B'Elanna was glad. She'd been on her best behaviour and doing her best not to let the others bait her. Most of the crew steered clear of her, except Ayala, Morrison and Dalby. She liked them, if truth be told. They had a no-nonsense attitude about them that was a lot like Chakotay. She gave an inward grin. If they didn't show their awe of Chakotay, it was the way they emulated the Native American that all but revealed how much they respected him. B'Elanna loved the thrill of being one step ahead of their pursuers, always conning them with Chakotay's creative evasive maneuvers. The man was a genius, she thought. She had come to depend on him, but more importantly, put her absolute faith and trust in him. It was really good being on the Liberty and being a member of his crew. For the first time she felt that she was needed, that her expertise and ideas were not treated as useless or unimportant; that some even listened to her. Chakotay respected her and she felt good about that.

 

The last two weeks she'd had the nightmare three times. After the last one in which she was convinced it was happening to her again, she had half expected Chakotay to be there in her cabin, shaking her awake. So she got up and stumbled to Chakotay's cabin where he comforted her through her trauma, talked to her in calming tones, then walked her back to her own cabin and stayed until she fell asleep again. In the morning she had woken up lighter than she had in days. It wasn't easy trying to forget, but she was getting there.

 

She gave a soft little sigh and turned her attention again to her two friends. They neared the plaza and B'Elanna looked Morrison up and down, brushing down his garment.

 

"Okay, that's good. Morrison. For such a camouflage, I must say you look the part of a Ktarian priest."

 

"I am Ktarian."

 

"Who had a human father," she said, then bit back any other comments. Her own father was human, and he didn't feature in her life. Morrison nodded and B'Elanna could see how his eyes lit up. Morrison's father was overseeing the refugee camps on Alkorea and he had been happy to see his son when they had been there a week ago.

 

"So, I'm a priest," Morrison reminded her, "come to perform a wedding ceremony for a Ktarian couple living on Komari."

 

"Who has no business consorting with a Native American Starfleet officer supposedly on patrol in the DMZ." B'Elanna gave Ayala a playful rib as she appraised his Starfleet uniform. Some camouflage. Ayala would get thrown immediately into a Federation prison for imitating a Starfleet Officer. She herself wore her dark brown top and trousers with calf length boots.

 

"And you, Torres?"

 

"No one knows me here. It's my first time out, remember?"

 

"Oh, sure. We're three innocents paying our respects to a young man lost his family."

 

"What's so wrong about that?" B'Elanna asked as she ran alongside them.

 

"Absolutely nothing. Now let's get going," Ayala ordered.

 

They neared the end of the dusty road that was one of several entry points to the plaza. If the young boy were in danger, as they always presumed since they were constantly on the alert for such an eventuality, they were prepared. With hindsight, she realised that was why Chakotay could dispatch her Cardassian attackers so swiftly. He had been prepared... She still recoiled at the sight of him killing them.

 

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the end of the road, near the plaza they were heading towards. Ayala and Morrison hurried forward, instantly on the alert but more out of curiosity to see what was happening. It was so like them, B'Elanna thought. They wanted to be where the action was and the action was inevitably a fight scene. Most of the time though, they never discounted the fact that their contacts might be in trouble, so she conceded their haste in getting to the scene. Like a beacon it drew them closer. B'Elanna's heart thumped wildly. It was her first mission planetside, and the situation a dangerous one. She had managed to cloak all their signals on the Limpet but they had to get in and get out as Chakotay always warned them, before they were detected.

 

"We can't always hide in the clouds, guys," he told them on more than one occasion. "One day we'll hit one that's not so friendly." His voice had been brusque after Dalby and Henley returned without Paris at the helm, but with the much needed medical supplies.

 

The fight was probably over, or, an attack on some unfortunate individual, B'Elanna realised. People were milling about and others were looking down at something. B'Elanna immediately recognised the young Bajoran boy who fit the description Ayala and Morrison had given. It was easy to recognise him: he was the only Bajoran she detected as she scanned the small circle. The boy looked traumatised, though B'Elanna could see there were no signs of injuries on him. He had such a fresh-faced, innocent look that B'Elanna wanted to curse that his parents had been killed. The kid should still have been in school, or something.

 

"What happened here?" Ayala asked as he pushed a few bystanders aside to look at the person lying face down on the ground.

 

"We don't know," someone said. "We were all inside the inn - "

 

"We didn't see any attack..."

 

"We saw a Cardassian shuttle land," said another.

 

"No, they did attack her... I was too far away."

 

"How convenient," B'Elanna hissed softly.

 

"There were three of them. We don't know where the woman came from."

 

"The shuttle left again soon after it landed."

 

B'Elanna growled suddenly. How long had the victim been lying there? she wondered. Yet, there were people standing round, doing nothing... What was the matter with them? How lucky had she herself been when Chakotay rescued her from the Cardassians in that tavern? They would have left her there and then what? They would have... The patrons in the bar wouldn't have lifted a finger to help her. It was war, and whether it looked like an excuse or not, those people had been afraid too, of reprisal. But no one helping? How detached were they becoming? Were they immune to the suffering of others?

 

The situation they were in now, was a little different, she thought. The victim appeared to be still alive. Her attackers left their victim for dead, the scum... She was suddenly angry at the bystanders.

 

"You guys want to tell me no one thought to take her somewhere where she could get medical attention?"

 

"It must have just happened," one man, an Andorian, said.

 

"Some excuse," B'Elanna retorted.

 

Her voice had risen to a sharp tone, nearing hysteria. Ayala touched her arm and B'Elanna relented a little as she cast the bystanders a furious glance. She bent down and turned the woman carefully over, and only then noticed that the victim was Bajoran. Her clothes were torn and... B'Elanna shuddered. There were signs of sexual assault. There were deep bruises to her face and neck and arms. The young Bajoran gasped as he saw her Bajoran features. B'Elanna looked up at him.

 

"You know this woman?" she asked him. The boy shook his head. Ayala and Morrison had also knelt down to check the woman's vital signs. Ayala unclipped his tricorder and scanned her.

 

"She has concussion," he said as he studied the readings. "No internal injuries... but she's badly bruised and.." Ayala looked pointedly at B'Elanna and nodded as if he read her thoughts that the woman had been sexually assaulted.

 

The boy, still looking shocked, wanted to move away, but Morrison rose swiftly to his feet. He looked scared as Morrison held him by his shoulders and spoke in a voice that sounded deeply compassionate.

 

"Please, do not be alarmed. We are here to help. What is your name, son?"

 

The kid blinked, startled at the friendly tone.

 

"I - I am Gerron."

 

"Okay, Gerron, let us get you someplace. This woman, you say you don't know her?"

 

"I've never seen her," he replied morosely.

 

"What are you looking at?" Ayala asked the bystanders, with none of the kindness in his tone that Morrison adopted. "We'll take care of her. Now please, give us some room..."

 

The people moved away slowly until only the three of them were left with Gerron and the unidentified woman. As soon as they were alone, Ayala said to Gerron, "I take it you're the one who called Dalby?"

 

Gerron's eyes lit up, and he gave a tight smile.

 

"Where's the other person you said was with you?" B'Elanna asked.

 

"He was killed a few days ago. He - " Gerron choked suddenly, his eyes becoming red with unshed tears. "No one knows who killed him...no one... We were three. My other friend died a month ago."

 

"It's okay, Gerron, you're safe with us. We have to hurry, though. This woman, she has been beaten pretty severely. Know anything about her attackers?"

 

"Only that they were Cardassian."

 

"She needs our help, Ayala. We have to get her to the Liberty."

 

"Torres, you want to bring a sick dog on board," Ayala stated, raising an eyebrow.

 

"We can't leave her here! She's a Bajoran. I'm sure Chakotay won't mind. We can take her to a place of safety."

 

"B'Elanna, I'm not so certain. We don't know this woman at all. We were only instructed to get Gerron and his friend."

 

"Well, now consider this unfortunate individual his friend. We'll still squeeze five into the Limpet."

 

"I don't think it's a good idea. We don't know her - "

 

B'Elanna rose to her feet and locked her gaze with Ayala's.

 

"She's been beaten up by Cardassians."

 

"Then you take responsibility for this decision, Torres. You want her on board - "

 

"What would you have us do?"

 

"Look, I'm just saying Chakotay might not want her on the Liberty..." Ayala said, his voice trailing away.

 

"Are we going to remain here and argue while this woman may die?"

 

Ayala turned red at B'Elanna's accusatory tone. She bent down again. The woman's face was badly bruised, and she had not regained consciousness. On their shuttle they could treat her and then who knows? Chakotay needed another crewmember for communications. She had her hands full just nursing her engines on regular fourteen hour shifts. They could use some assistance, if the woman had some science ability.

 

"Okay," Ayala relented finally, "but let Chakotay make the decision to keep her on, Torres. You know how grouchy he gets sometimes."

 

They were alone on the edge of the plaza and they had a way to get back to their shuttle and do so without being detected. She'd been able to cloak their signals, but it wouldn't be long before a clever Cardassian or Starfleet rookie locked onto them.

 

B'Elanna sighed. Ayala was right. Chakotay was edgy these days. She knew he missed his home. She didn't have much of a home herself, so she had little frame of reference for an attachment to a mother or father, or a spouse with a little baby, even to a homeworld. Chakotay left everything he loved dearly to pursue a life in the Maquis. She heard what had happened on Dorvan V, what the Cardassians did to the women there. Was that why he hated the Cardassians? Whatever feeling he had for them, was also underscored by the fact that the Federation let his people down. That much she gathered when they were on Alkorea at the new settlement for refugees and the displaced. There they spoke with bitterness of how the Federation let them down when they counted on being protected by them against the enemy. There was no one of Dorvan V except Chakotay, who could speak for those who died there.

 

Yes, Chakotay was edgy lately. If they brought another homeless woman on board, Chakotay might just not be in a frame of mind to take her in. Then again, who knows? The woman was beautiful, B'Elanna thought. She sighed again. It was an insult to Chakotay. He looked like he fell only for one beautiful woman in his life and that was the woman in the photograph, Kathryn Janeway, Starfleet captain, commander of the USS Crimond. That little bit of information didn't come from Chakotay, but the two minutes she and Tom Paris had not been at each other's throats and he actually looked serious enough to care what Chakotay thought of him. It had been then Tom told her that his parents knew Chakotay, that his mother was the couple's physician while they were stationed on Earth.

 

"The man's brilliant, Torres. Just...he doesn't like me," Tom had said then, his voice becoming a little peevish.

 

Yes, Tom had filled her in, fitting in another piece of the puzzle that was Chakotay, former Starfleet officer. Yes, he missed his family; he stared again too long at the picture on his desk. It was a gamble she had to take. She felt something about the woman's ordeal resonate in her.

 

"Fine," she told Ayala. "You got the site to site transporter?" Her last question was directed at Morrison.

 

"Yes," he replied, fishing the instrument from under his cassock.

 

"We'll transport you as well, Torres, and you can resuscitate her there. There are no other severe injuries, except that - "

 

" - she was raped."

 

"Hell, Torres."

 

"Yes, Ayala," B'Elanna said stiffly. Ayala cast her a keen glance then looked away quickly.

 

"Ready?" he asked.

 

B'Elanna nodded and the next moment, cradling the woman against her, the two of them were transported to the Limpet.

 

Fifteen minutes later three pairs of eyes were on the woman as B'Elanna used a hypospray and pressed it into the patient's neck. While Ayala piloted the Limpet, the others were all squeezed into the shuttle making its way back to the Liberty. They had risked fitting in a fifth person in the first place, but Chakotay had been adamant that they bring both refugees back to the vessel. B'Elanna gave a little sigh. Gerron's friend had been killed and in his place they now had a woman who was slowly opening her eyes.

 

"Hello," B'Elanna said to her as she groaned and tried to sit up.

 

"Where - where am I?" she asked.

 

"You're on the Limpet, a small shuttle," Morrison replied.

 

"We're on our way to the Liberty."

 

"The...Liberty," the woman repeated the name of the vessel slowly, as if she were testing the word.

 

B'Elanna ran a regenerator over the contusions on the woman's face and gradually the bruises cleared. On the Liberty they could treat the bruises on the rest of her body. No ribs were broken, but the woman winced sharply when B'Elanna touched her ribs, then she gave a sigh as she sat back on the narrow bunk. Now that the heavy bruising was gone, B'Elanna drew in her breath slowly. The woman was beautiful, with her sad-sad looking eyes.

 

"Care to tell us what happened down there?" Morrison asked.

 

"I - "

 

"We know you were attacked. Did you recognise your attackers?"

 

"Only that they were Cardassian. I was on - " The woman was startled for a moment.

 

"You were left for dead on Komari."

 

"Komari? But - but I was on Kula Prime," she said, her grey-green eyes suddenly misting at some memory.

 

"They brought you all the way to Komari to dump you there. Kula Prime...isn't that a small Bajoran settlement?" The woman nodded.

 

"On Kula Prime, I was abducted from my abode by - by a Cardassian warrior. M-my husband...they killed him..." She was quiet a few moments while she twirled the ornate ring on the middle finger of her right hand. "This ring...it's all I have left of him," she said softly, her words ending on a sob.

 

"It's a beautiful ring," Morrison said.

 

"He - he said he wanted a mistress."

 

"A Bajoran mistress."

 

They all looked to Gerron when they heard him give a cry of anger, his eyes suddenly wild and his face flushed.

 

"They did that to my mother..." he said when he calmed enough to speak. "They killed my father to make her do what they wanted..."

 

"I'm sorry to hear that, Gerron."

 

"Hey, don't worry. You're with family now," Ayala said as he spoke from the minute conn area.

 

"And then what happened?" Morrison asked the woman again.

 

"I resisted, and then - then he brought the others..."

 

She closed her eyes, and they watched a tear roll down her cheek. B'Elanna felt sorry for her. The woman was distressed. She lost her husband, her family, friends. How could this Bajoran woman not hate what they had done to her? As if B'Elanna remembered something very suddenly.

 

"Tell us, what is your name?"

 

"M-my name..."

 

"Yes."

 

**

 

Sedeka looked at each face in turn, noting how they primed themselves for her answer.

 

It was the moment Sedeka had been waiting for. Her tears looked real, and the four warriors who worked her over on Kula Prime did their work well. She was prepared to endure pain, extreme pain even, so they beat her up, kicked her and fucked her. What she wouldn't sacrifice to make it all look authentic! They had to leave her unconscious on Komari, but only after they had extracted information from their informant who told them that young Gerron had made contact with a Maquis cell. Some weeks ago, they killed Gerron's other friend too, and Sharuk planted the desire in him to join the Maquis. Sedeka had no sympathy for Sharuk who was forced to do what they wanted. They had his mother and father on Cardassia Prime as hostages and they would free his parents once he was certain that Gerron called this Dalby he spoke of.

 

Poor, foolish Gerron. It was so easy. Once Sharuk told them they had made contact, they killed him. All they had to do, was wait for the contacts to arrive, dump her conscious body on the dusty ground and let Gerron watch, then wait for the pickup. It was a gamble and it worked. .

 

Sedeka couldn't help but laugh at them. They were suckers for the needy and the injured and the downtrodden and the oppressed. Like a sick dog, they've just taken her in and asked no other questions other than how she got hurt, how she got there and what her name was. Were they stupid? Still, she traded on their sympathy and succeeded. To them, they would run across ten sectors to save one sick dog. Compassion, Sedeka thought, was a weak emotion in humans, mostly. What they termed as their strengths, others deemed to be weaknesses, and those weaknesses were so easy to exploit. So easy. The woman named Torres was clearly not all human, and there were Ktarian features on the one they called Morrison. They were sorry for her; they were taking her to the Liberty where she'd meet their leader; they would probably tell Chakotay that she could be useful for something and then she would remain on board the Liberty.

 

All she had to do was play an injured, rape victim while crew of the Liberty would come and collect Gerron. Good thing the warriors beat and kicked her while there were a few people walking about the plaza so that they could create a little diversion, get their attention and let them flock to the scene out of their own stupid curiosity.

 

"Make it look real," she had instructed the warriors. "You could stop short of just killing me..."

 

Now they wanted to know her name.

 

Evek had discussed it with her and she had told him she would assume a new name, naturally. She had to, she told him, and she had always been thinking of one. That was after they had been copulating on her bed in the medical wing of the Science Institute on Cardassia Prime and Evek had been more than a little gentle with her. The test was successful; no one saw her for anything other than a Bajoran woman whose husband had been murdered by Cardassians and who tried to flee when they wanted to bed her.

 

She was almost there...almost. When she heard them say they were on their way to the Liberty, her heart thundered wildly for a second and she could gladly have endured more pain in the ribs for the joy of knowing that very soon she would come face to face with the man who humiliated her and he would not recognise her.

 

Her grandmother was a Cardassian abhail who was eventually looked upon with kindness by a gul in the Cardassian army. Sedeka had grown up listening to stories of her grandmother and the many conquests she made among Cardassian men. Ami had herself been reared by her father's Bajoran mistress when her own mother died shortly after she gave birth.

 

The one thing Ami always said to her eldest granddaughter was, "There is nothing you cannot attain in life, Sedeka. All things are possible, even for abhail. Many men say abhail have no feelings, but that is not so..."

 

Then there were times when Ami, as she called her grandmother, would say, "One day, my child, you will meet a man who will light up your eyes."

 

She did meet that man. His name was Chakotay.

 

"Men, Sedeka, are weak and you will find that weakness and prey on it."

 

Sedeka thought how her grandmother had been such a driving force in her life. There was nothing that she could not do or achieve, and for all that the granddaughter became an abhail like her grandmother, braving the men who flitted in an out of her life, it was not a Cardassian man she craved but a dark man, a Native American human from the planet Earth.

 

Chakotay.

 

She was ready to meet the man whom she hated and loved with all her might. She was ready to kill him. Her grandmother was right. She found Chakotay's weakness before and she'll find it again. Therefore, she would honour her grandmother by taking her name that had once belonged to the Bajoran mistress who raised her and make it hers. .

 

Evek had looked that day at her, his face still flushed from the aftermath of their lovemaking and in his eyes dawned wonder.

 

"A wise name, Sedeka. It means 'conqueror'."

 

"I know, Evek."

 

Now Sedeka stared at the faces of Gerron, Torres and Morrison. They were waiting for her to identify herself. For a moment her grandmother's face flashed before her, a wide smile of victory gracing her noble features. Sedeka touched the ring on her finger, stroking the roughly wrought Cardassian cat-walker that formed its head.

 

Thank you, Ami, that I can claim your name as my own now. It means much to me...

 

"What is your name?" they asked her.

 

"I am Seska."

 

****

 

END CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Chapter 27

 

 

 

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J/C FANFIC