Janeway watched as the fear in Paris remaining eye caused his pupil to expand. “Is there absolutely nothing you can do doctor?” She asked stepping closer to Paris. She could see how much distress Tom was in and wanted with all her heart to reach out and comfort him. But as his captain she had to hold back, anyway Belanna was with him.
“There is something we could try,” said Seven from behind the doctor.
Janeway looked quizzically at Seven, while Belanna eyed her distrustfully.
“Something?” Paris asked nervously.
“Yes, when a Borg looses a limb in the line of duty, it is replaced with a prosthetic. Sometimes the replacement doesn’t always function fully when attached, so nanites specially programmed to repair and build new nerves are injected into the Borg's system. Within a week the limb would be fully functional.”
“Interesting, but how would that apply to me?” asked Paris, “I am not a Borg.”
Seven didn’t take the comment personally in her answer to Paris question, “In your case Mr Paris the doctor could use a scald down version of my old Borg eye to replace your missing one. While at the same time injecting you with reprogrammed nanites from me to help build you a new optical nerve stem. Given enough time they would connect the new nerve to the Borg eye implant.”
“And then what?” asked Paris, his voice was angry and bitter, “I spend the rest of my life with half a Borg face, forget it!”
“GET DOWN!”
Paris cut the Senator speech short as a shockwave from an almighty blast close by shattered the room’s scenic windows sending shards of glass flying across the room. He had heard the glass rattle just seconds before it blew and knowing what was to come had called out.
Janeway heard Paris call but before she could react for herself, he pushed her to the ground beneath him. Moments later from the safety of his shelter she opened her eyes to the gruesome sight of a beheaded torso, and gasped as she realised it was the leering aid.
Three hundred individuals at once screamed then rushed for the exit, double doors that had been ample wide enough on the way in earlier now seemed wholly inadequate as the frantic people, some injured, tried to flee, unfortunately many others didn’t get back up.
Paris shook the broken glass from his back while simultaneously checking for injuries to himself and Janeway. He had tried in the seconds available to cover as much of her body as possible but her bare legs had been an easy target and he could see blood from the cuts she’d sustained seeping dark red into the crimson of her dress. “Captain?” Paris squeezed her shoulder gently as he spoke to her. “Hold still your injured.”
Ignoring the pain she asked. “How many? How many crew?”
…………….Janeway woke to find her self being dragged down a corridor backwards then unceremoniously shoved into a semi-darkened room. Turning slowly to get her bearings and let her eyes adjust to the light she saw other, dressed in the same rags she’d been forced into, huddled against the walls trying to hide under thick blankets. Something else she noticed even in the dark was that they were all female, well almost all of them.
“CAPTAIN!”
Turning sharply Janeway saw Tom Paris limping out of the shadows towards her. Behind him she recognised a few of her female officers, they too were dressed in rags but Paris still wore his uniform. The sight of him lifted her dwindling spirits and forgetting her position she ran into his arms wrapping her own around his strong muscular back while burying her tear stained face into his shoulder.
Surprised, glad and shocked Paris returned the embrace. He’d not seen his captain since their abduction on Jarron’s third moon two days ago and from the tangles hair, broken nails and bruising she’d faired no better than the other federation women.
“Are you ok?” Paris found himself asking, releasing his hold on her so she could look up, but when Janeway moved her head their were fresh wet patch’s on his uniform jacket.
“I’m………f………fine, but how’s your leg?” Janeway asked trying to take the emphasis of her own appearance.
“It’s nothing, more stiffness than pain.” Paris swapped weight onto his bad leg to prove a point then winced.
