Begun by Jane Seaton & T. S. Taylor
Finished by R.M. Moyer

Now, as he thought back, rubbing his sore head, Chekov wondered what had happened after he'd passed out.
'What a gallant exit,' he scolded himself, 'Made a wonderful impression, I'll bet.'
He took a moment to look around, the heavy manacles on his wrists beginning
to hurt. There was one, small, dim yellow light in the middle.
Getting to his feet, Chekov wandered about the tiny room. The walls were
smooth and cold, menacingly bare. Sitting down in a corner, he thought of
Scott, blaming him slightly for the predicament he was in. Chekov also blamed
himself, knowing that he should have gone to the lecture hall and not cared
what the others thought. Resting his chin on his hand, he waited. He didn't
know what he was waiting for, or for how long he'd be waiting, but it seemed
the only thing he could do. He couldn't hear a thing except for the pounding
in his head and his heavy breathing, both of which were beginning to calm
already, and his pain receptors seemed dulled.
Suddenly, he heard a loud commotion, shouting and fighting.
The walls shook and the door slid open. A cry erupted from outside, followed
by numerous screams, then someone was tossed in, much like he had been. The
new prisoner tumbled head over heels until he hit the wall, then sprawled
against it. With a groan, the new prisoner slid to one side and got up on his
hands and knees. He too, wore the manacles. It seemed at that moment that he
saw Chekov.
It wasn't a he. It was a woman. A strangely familiar woman. The
pointed ears, slanted brows, long, felinoid teeth, smooth, creamy skin and
large dark eyes pulled up a memory, without a name attached.
"Pavel?! Chekov, how the hell did they get you?"
"Rifka???" The smoothness of her deep voice was turned ragged from the
struggle she'd produced, but the Russian accent that was as thick as his own
was unmistakable. Her dark eyes were wild with adrenaline, but as her pants
quieted with every long breath she took, her eyes calmed.
"Rifka, how did they get you? For that matter, who are they?" Rifka
rubbed at a sore shoulder that had hit the wall and the floor pretty hard,
her eyes hateful.
"I really wish I could tell you. Whoever they are, whatever it was in
that needle blocked all my Telepathic and Empathic abilities!"
"What's that like?" Rifka rubbed her arms.
"Empty." She murmured, her tone disturbed. Chekov studied the Vulcan/
Human/ Feline/ Thetan woman a bit uneasily. She looked at him the same way.
Chekov remembered quite well the woman he hadn't seen since the Academy. His
first Girlfriend, and the only woman he'd really loved with all his heart.
They'd never really broken up, they just never saw each other after Chekov
had been assigned to the Enterprise, and Rifka to the Agusta. Seeing her
again now, brought everything back. Chekov rubbed at his eyes.
"This is all happening a bit too fast for me." He mumbled in Russian.
Rifka sighed softly.
"I don't like it either, Pavlik, I don't like it either." Chekov
lowered his hands to stare at Rifka. It had been a very long time since she'd
called him that. She only looked back. After a while, she looked down.
"I never lost the love I felt for you, Pavel, but if you have, I
understand." Chekov stared a while longer, then blinked and began to stutter.
"No, no, it isn't that! Rifka, I do still love you. I guess I was
just surprised to hear that you still felt the same way." She blinked at him,
then, slowly, she smiled. A tear found its way down her cheek and he shifted
closer to her and wiped it away.
"I wish we had met again under better circumstances." He mumbled.
Rifka chuckled softly.
"I suppose anything would be better than this. I don't seem to have
my communicator, and neither do you."
"Yes, I noticed that." They shared another silence, then slowly
leaned closer. Their lips met and they held the kiss. Chekov knew now for
sure just how much he had missed Rifka's kisses. They wanted to continue, but
scurried apart quickly as the door unlocked and opened. The large man that
came in wore something over his face to hide it. He was huge, almost twice as
tall as Rifka, who was a very muscular five foot six, with beady black eyes
and black hair, a huge, barrel-shaped chest and stocky, tree-stump legs and
arms. His skin was a peachy-red color, the palms of his hands and throat a
stark white. Chekov had no idea who this man was, or the planet he came from.
He was definitely not a Native! He glanced at Rifka, and, judging by the way
she sized the man up with very wide eyes, concluded that she didn't know
anything either.
The Man took one huge stride toward Rifka, grabbed her arm in
one huge paw, and dragged her out again without a sound.
"RIFKA!!!" Chekov shouted. Pausing, the man twisted and knocked
Chekov hard against the wall. Rifka let out a yelp as her arm was nearly
broken, and struggled feebly as she was taken away. The last thing Chekov
heard before the door closed and the last of his consciousness fled, was
Rifka's high-pitched screaming of his name.

* * * *** * * *

* * * *** * * *

Chekov was brought back by the sound of the door opening. The
giant stepped in, carrying an awfully limp Rifka over one shoulder. He
dropped the girl like a sack in one corner, then left. Chekov crawled over to
Rifka, and as he got closer, he saw all the cuts and bruises on her face. Her
clothes were torn and covered in dark, greenish, red-brown blood. Chekov
touched Rifka's neck and felt for a pulse, and let his breath out in a loud
whoosh.
Rifka let out a long, painful groan.
"Bozhe moi...." she whimpered.
"Rifka," she looked up at him, tears in her dark eyes. Chekov could see how
much pain she was in, and almost cried himself. He took one of her hands and
held it. As he always was when it happened, Chekov was surprised beyond words
as he watched all of Rifka's wounds begin to fade away.
"Their drug wore off," Rifka explained in a whisper, "I can Heal again, feel
things, hear things...." her tone was so unsteady, like she wished the drug
hadn't worn off.
"Rifka, what is it? What did you find?" She stared up at him.
"Terrorists, Murderers, they plan to start a War between the Romulans,
Klingons, and the Federation! Right now, the Federation has been told by these
people that we are hostages of the Romulans! When Starfleet gets to Romulas
and Remus, they will cause an outrage, and the first stage of the war. I saw,
two other cells, one with Romulan captives, the third with Klingons. This is
so terrible!" Chekov blinked as everything Rifka had seen came together in
his mind.
"Oh my God." He uttered a string of plaintive Russian oaths.
"We've got to do something!" Rifka whispered in Russian.
"Stop talking in there!" Boomed a voice. Someone's fist banged threateningly
on a door. Klingon voices yelled back, the Romulans too. Chekov and Rifka
stood and listened.
"Do you know what they're saying?" Chekov asked as Rifka closed her eyes and
stretched her ears back. She nodded. Her mouth twisted in a humor-less smile.
"The Klingons are demanding that they be set free. Now, so are the Romulans."
"What should we do?" Rifka chuckled. Her eyes opened and Chekov saw the
mischief in them.
"Join in the fun." She said simply. At first, Chekov didn't know what to do,
and watched as Rifka took a deep breath, then began pounding on the door,
shouting "Let us out of here!" in Russian. Chekov grinned and also began
pounding and shouting.

"Shut them up!" Cried a small man to the giant, covering his ear,
"Make them shut up!!!" The giant stepped up to the Humans' door and flung it
open. The little man and woman fell back from it, then scurried between his
legs as he snatched at him. The girl did a back-flip, kicking out with both
legs, and the Giant found himself locked in the tiny cell.
Chekov went after the man who started to run, and caught up easily.
Taking the dwarf by the arms, he led him back to where Rifka was unlocking
the other cells.
"Don't look at me like that," he heard her saying harshly to the Romulans,
"You and I are all in this together! We can only get out of this together!
Get it??" The two Romulans, who were of High Rank, glanced at each other,
then stepped out of the cell. Rifka shot a smile over her shoulder to Chekov,
who smiled back as he tied the furious dwarf to a chair. Rifka freed the
Klingons, who crouched as if to attack her at first. She pressed them with a
hard, challenging glare.
"Human." Spat on Klingon, saying the name like a curse.
"Thetan-Vulcan-Feline-Human." Rifka corrected in a growl. The Klingons
stared, then backed away. Rifka gave a short hiss, then turned away from
them. She walked up to the captive dwarf.
"Who are you?" She asked in a calm, sweet voice. He spat at her and she
stepped aside before it hit her. She grabbed the dwarf somewhere behind his
neck and applied a little pressure. The dwarf screamed in pain.
"Now, who are you?" Rifka asked again, "Do tell us, please, I'm a Healer, it
pains me to harm others."
"Torek," the dwarf choked out, "Torek of Linal Two." Linal Two was probably
some un-known star, or maybe a small orbital station, for none of the
original captives knew of it.
"Why do you wish to start such a Bloody war?" Chekov asked. The dwarf
growled.
"Your three races are always fighting. Linal Two is always in the middle of
those fights. This time, you will each kill each other until no one is left,
and Linal Two will be the Center of Peace again!" Everyone glanced at the
locked cell when a roar came from behind it and the giant threw himself
against it.
"Who is that friend of yours?" A Klingon asked.
"Native of Linal."
"Are all like him?"
"No. He is Genetitic Mutant. He's Mute and very dumb, but he follows orders
well." Rifka looked around her.
"Where are we?" The Romulans demanded.
"Lenal, a small prison building."
"Terrific."

*** *** ***

Return to main page.

Copyright © 1997 R.M. Moyer