This story is dedicated to Melanie Torpey, who graciously sent me a 
complete copy of "Hope and Fear" after I missed the first half!  Thanks, 
Mel, you're fantastic!

The disclaimer's at the end.  This story takes place....oh, probably 
somewhere early in the fifth season.  Enjoy, and send all feedback to 
pt4ever@yahoo.com.  Thanks!

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"Alone"  
by JoAnna Walsvik
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     "Computer, increase temperature by ten degrees Celsius," B'Elanna 
Torres mumbled, searching for her blanket with numb fingers.  Sleepily, 
she wondered why her quarters were so cold. 
     Neither the heat nor her search changed for the better.  "Computer, 
acknowledge."
     There was a laugh from somewhere above her.  "I don't think it's 
going to answer you."
     Her eyes flew open at the sound of a deep, unfamiliar male voice.  
She pulled herself into a sitting position, but immediately regretted 
the movement, for it caused her head to nearly split in two.  She 
managed to choke back a scream, and instead uttered a small moan and 
squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to lessen the agony.
     "Easy," the unknown voice said with a note of caution.  "The 
sedative will wear off completely in a few hours, but until then I'm 
afraid you'll have a rather nasty headache.  Breathe deeply and the pain 
should ease a bit."
     B'Elanna did as the voice advised.  The fierce throbbing inside of 
her skull dwindled to a dull ache that was still painful, but much more 
bearable. She opened her eyes and gingerly turned her head towards 
whoever was speaking to her. 
     Her gaze fell upon a young alien, about her age, with thick, rust-
colored hair and stormy gray eyes.  His complexion was flawless, except 
for a thin red scar that started just below his left earlobe and 
continued to the base of his neck, where it disappeared underneath his 
mud-colored tunic. Two narrow, oblong ridges protruded from each side of 
the bridge of his nose, dipped down and swept over his cheekbones, and 
then disappeared once they reached the tips of his eyebrows.  Small 
ears, a sharply defined nose and a long, thin mouth with pale lips 
completed his features.
     Although he did seem faintly familiar, B'Elanna couldn't identify 
him or his species.  At the moment, though, her head ached so badly she 
could barely remember who *she* was.
     The alien smiled.  "Good morning, Lieutenant.  It's good to see you 
awake -- you've been unconscious for almost two days.  Oh, by the way, I 
adjusted the temperature; is it satisfactory?"
     "It's fine," she said, dismayed at how weak her voice sounded to 
her ears. "I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."
     "Hmmm."  His piercing eyes studied her intently.  "I suppose the 
sedative is affecting your memory."
     "Sedative?  What sedative?  What am I doing here?" 
     "Wait for a few minutes and I'm sure your recollections will return 
to you.  Until then, I'll try to prompt your memory.  Do you, by any 
chance, remember the Xaladian embassy?"
     Xaladian...  
     The word echoed in B'Elanna's head and caused a torrent of memories 
to flood her brain, bringing back the events of the past few hours.
     Voyager had dropped into orbit around a class-M planet populated 
by a very reserved but essentially friendly race called the Xaladians.  
According to information obtained at a trading post a few weeks ago, 
Xalad's people had been severe isolationists until only five years ago, 
when their aged monarch had died and his granddaughter had taken over 
the throne.  Sources had said that the new queen was an intelligent 
young woman with radical ideas, and she had decided to integrate Xalad 
with its neighboring systems and trading posts, a movement that had been 
gaining popularity even while their former ruler had governed.  The 
planet had a rich wealth of minerals, metals, and cuisine to offer, and 
within three years of their initial foray into the realm of commerce, 
Xalad's trading business had flourished.  
     Although there was still a small faction opposed to interaction 
with other species, for the most part the general population of Xalad 
approved of the new boost to the economy and welcomed the opportunity to 
meet with other races.   
     Captain Janeway had seized the chance to acquire more supplies and 
had immediately set a course to Xalad.  Voyager and her crew had been 
greeted warmly and invited to visit Xalad in order to view the 
merchandise available for purchase.  
     The captain had accepted the invitation and taken Neelix and 
B'Elanna Torres with her.  The former was eager to view the foodstuffs 
while the latter was interested in any materials that could be of use to 
Engineering.  
     It was while the three officers were at the Xaladian embassy, 
meeting with the Queen Lemari and the Xaladian Council, that the entire 
building had suddenly been plunged into darkness.  All of the computer 
systems had crashed, the emergency lights and systems had failed to come 
online, and, for some unknown reason, even the commbadges of the 
Starfleet people had stopped functioning.  
     In the ensuing panic, as hundreds of people had struggled to vacate 
the windowless council room, B'Elanna had tripped, fallen, and been 
nearly trampled by the crowd of frenzied Xaladians.  By the time she was 
able to regain her footing, the entire room had been almost completely 
emptied.  While she was blindly trying to reach an exit, someone had 
violently grabbed her and pressed something to her neck.  The next thing 
she remembered was waking up and feeling terribly cold.
     As B'Elanna gazed at her new surroundings, she realized that she 
was in some kind of cell, about the size of Voyager's brig, with dingy 
beige walls, floor, and ceiling made of some kind of hard-polymerized 
substance.  There wasn't a visible light source, but the room was well 
illuminated.
       In the corner, neatly folded, were a thin white blanket and a 
small pillow.  An alcove off to the side revealed what appeared to be a 
small bathroom, but other then that there was no evidence of a door or 
window, nor any other form of escape.  B'Elanna glanced at the alien and 
idly wondered how he planned to leave.  
     He was still gazing at her with an amused smile resting on his 
lips.  Familiarity stirred the hazy cobwebs of her mind like a strong 
wind; she knew this alien from someplace, but couldn't recall where.  
The answer was right there, but she just couldn't... 
     Suddenly, realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.  She had 
seen this man with Queen Lemari in the Council Chamber.  "You -- you 
were an assistant to the queen."
     "Correct.  Your memory has returned, I see."
     "You kidnapped me."  Eyes narrowed, fists clenched, B'Elanna began 
to rise to her feet.  Despite her aching head, she was ready to do 
battle.  
     She stopped short when the alien pulled a nasty-looking weapon, 
considerably like a smaller version of a Starfleet phaser rifle, from a 
holster at his side.
     "Please, don't give me any trouble, Lieutenant.  I really don't 
like weapons, and I'd hate to see such an attractive face turn into 
charred flesh."
     Reluctantly, B'Elanna sat back down, willing herself to stay calm. 
A fiery temper wouldn't help the situation -- or her -- at all.  "Do you 
have a name?"  she asked.
     Her captor chuckled.  "Of course.  I am Lereb Olber, Third 
Attendant to the Sovereign Ruler of Xalad, Her Majesty Queen Lemari 
Artimn.  However, you may call me Lereb.  And your captain introduced 
you to the queen as Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Chief Engineer of the 
Federation Starship Voyager.  It's an honor to make your acquaintance."
     "I wish I could say the same."
     "Oh, come now, B'Elanna -- may I call you B'Elanna?"
     She shrugged, keeping her expression neutral.  "You're the one 
with the gun."
     Lereb clapped his hands in a delighted, almost childlike gesture.  
"I'm glad you're being so cooperative.  Well, B'Elanna, I assume you're 
wondering exactly why you were kidnapped."
     "Yes, the thought had crossed my mind."
     "You see, I belong to an illustrious group of Xaladians known as 
the Isolationist Faction.  Our goal is to remove Xalad from the company 
of the common galaxy rabble and return to our former state of 
seclusion,"  Lereb intoned, sounding more like he was reciting from a 
book then merely giving a simple explanation.  "Until now, our pleas to 
return to solitude have been ignored by the queen as well as the rest of 
Xaladian society.  Now that we have taken nine members of the Xalad 
Ruling Council and a visiting alien hostage, we have demonstrated that 
we will not cease in our attempts until we are successful."
     *He's a lunatic,*  was B'Elanna's initial thought, but she kept her 
comment to herself.  
     "Actually, you weren't meant to be kidnapped at all,"  Lereb 
continued.  "The Faction had merely intended to capture the last ten 
Council members out of the Council Assembly Chamber.  However, you 
tripped and fell behind, and became one of the ten -- a stroke of pure 
luck on our part.  After we had taken you, our leader realized that you 
were a very valuable asset.  One of our queen's most visible 
shortcomings is her kindheartedness, and she will not allow an innocent 
alien to die because of her beliefs.  She has no choice but to concede 
to our demands and relinquish the throne of Xalad, or face the 
consequences." 
     B'Elanna took a deep breath, steeling herself for the response she 
anticipated, and asked, "If the queen refuses your demands, are you 
going to kill me?"
     Lereb's gaze met hers, and in the gray of his eyes she saw no 
ambivalence.  "Yes.  If necessary."
     She felt her heart sink but kept her chin up, determined not to 
display any fear.  "I see."
     The Xaladian rose to his feet, revealing a thin, lanky frame.  
He kept his eyes locked on hers.  "I give you my word that you will not 
be tortured during your stay here.  If we are forced to terminate you, 
your death will be quick and painless.  Despite what you might think, we 
are not a bloodthirsty people."
     "How comforting."  Despite her best efforts, she couldn't keep the 
sarcasm out of her voice.
     Lereb, however, didn't seem offended.  "You might want to try and 
get some rest," he said, gesturing towards the blanket folded in the 
corner and the pillow resting on top of it.  "The effects of the 
sedative will wear off faster if you sleep."
     Although she had no intention of doing what he suggested, B'Elanna 
moved to the corner to appease him.  Lereb watched her for a few moments 
and then nodded, satisfied.
     He pressed his hand on a portion the wall, and the material beneath 
his fingers began to glow with a crimson light.  A low-pitched chime 
sounded, and part of the wall disappeared to reveal a darkened corridor 
beyond.  
     "I'll return shortly with food," he promised, and left the cell.  
An instant after his exit, the missing section of the wall reappeared.  
B'Elanna inspected it carefully, but without a tricorder she couldn't 
even find evidence that a door existed.  *Holographic, maybe?*  her 
tired brain thought, unable to come up with any other theories.     
Her headache had subsided for a while, but it was now growing worse.  
She decided to do as Lereb had advised and rest.  Once she was stronger, 
she could formulate an escape plan.  With luck, Captain Janeway already 
had one, and she'd be back on Voyager and having dinner with Tom in a 
few hours.  Until then, all she could do was wait, and hope.

*

      When B'Elanna woke, her head was still pounding.  Trying to 
stand only made her dizzy, so she contented herself with sitting up and 
leaning against the cell wall.  *I thought Lereb said that sleep would 
make me feel better, not worse,*  she thought, taking deep breaths in an 
effort to lessen the pain.  As before, it helped, but only slightly.
     She was about to attempt to stand again when a portion of the wall 
opposite her began to dissolve.  A moment later, Lereb entered the room, 
carrying a covered tray.  The door materialized behind him before 
B'Elanna could get more than a glimpse of the darkened corridor she had 
seen before.
     "Good evening, B'Elanna,"  Lereb said, smiling brightly.  "I've 
brought you some supper."  
     He knelt and set the tray in front of her, removing the cover with 
a flourish to reveal a soup bowl containing a reddish-brown broth, a 
plate of a purple jelly-like substance, silverware, and a steaming cup 
of something crimson.  "Katela soup, farnok jelly, and a hot cup of 
kimian tea."
     B'Elanna peered at the tray.  Although the food looked a great deal 
better then what she ate in the Mess Hall, she was tempted to refuse it.  
Her grumbling stomach informed her otherwise, however, and she picked up 
the spoon.  "It's not drugged or anything, is it?"
     "Of course not," Lereb said, straightening his shoulders 
indignantly.  "I gave my word that you wouldn't be mistreated while you 
were here."  He eased onto the floor, sitting against the wall opposite 
her.  "Go ahead, try it."
     The soup looked the safest, so B'Elanna carefully sipped.  The 
broth was tangy and flavorful, and considerably better then leola root 
stew.  "It's good," she admitted, sipping another spoonful.  
     "I'm glad you approve."  
     The jelly was a little too sweet for her taste, but the tea was 
spicy and warm.  B'Elanna was savoring the crisp flavor when Lereb 
suddenly broke the silence.
     "Are you married?"
     Her hand, lifting the cup of tea to her lips, paused in mid-air.  
"Excuse me?"
     "I don't mean to be intrusive.  I'm just curious.  Do you have a 
husband?"
     B'Elanna decided to answer him.  "No, I don't."
     "Anyone...special?"
     She hesitated for an instant before answering, softly, "Yes."
     "What's his name?"
     "Tom Paris."
     "Is he an officer on your ship?"
     "Yes."
     "What does he do?"
     "He's the pilot."
     "Is he any good?"
     Her chin soared.  "He's the best."
     Lereb's grin softened his entire face.  "You love him very much, 
don't you?"
     She almost asked what business of it was his, but the honest 
curiosity she saw in his face changed her reply to a simple,  "Yes, I 
do."
     He nodded, and his questions stopped just as abruptly as they had 
begun.  B'Elanna took advantage of his sudden silence to ask a few 
questions of her own.
     "What about you?  Are you married?"
     He quickly looked away, but she didn't miss the sudden pain that 
leaped into his eyes.  "I used to be," he said, his voice almost 
inaudible to her ears. "Her name was Kerilynn."
     "What happened?"
     Lereb didn't reply at first.  "She was killed two years ago," he 
said at length.  "She was attacked by an offworlder."  
     B'Elanna was taken aback.  "Oh...I'm sorry."
     "That's how I got this,"  Lereb continued, absently tracing the 
scar on his face with his forefinger.  "We were walking home from the 
Palace when an alien assaulted us.  He had a knife, and I jumped in 
front of Kerilynn to protect her, but he stabbed me and I lost 
consciousness.  When I woke up in the hospital, the doctor told me that 
the alien had killed my wife for the bracelet she'd been wearing on her 
wrist.  The bracelet I gave her for our first wedding anniversary."
     "Was her killer ever arrested?"
     Lereb's eyes hardened.  "No.  He was able to escape in his ship 
before Xalad security officers could apprehend him."
     "Is that why you joined the Isolationist Faction?"     
     His head jerked up instantly, and he stared at her for a long 
while, silent.  "Yes," he said finally.  "I suppose it is."
     B'Elanna set her cup down, slowly and deliberately.  "Do you think 
that I'm responsible for your wife's death?"
     "You?  No, of course not."
     "Then why,"  she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, "am I 
here?"
     Lereb's voice and expression were pained.  "You're here because the 
Faction's leaders decided that hostages would be the most effective 
method of getting our point across to the queen."
     "Do you agree with them?"
     "Well...I don't believe in endangering innocent lives, but this 
situation called for drastic measures.  Nothing else was working."
     "Did you ever stop to consider that the reason nothing else was 
working was because no one on Xalad *wants* to be isolated?  That maybe 
the Xaladian people actually *like* interacting and trading with other 
species?"
     His lips tightened into a thin line.  "It's for their own 
protection."     
     "Protection against what?"
     "Offworlders, of course."
     "Offworlders like me?"
     Lereb visibly started.  "No, dangerous offworlders."
     "Such as the one who killed your wife."
     "That's right."
     "So how do you know who's dangerous and who's not?"
     "That's why Xalad must remain isolated.  There's no way to tell."
     "Better safe then sorry."
     "Correct."
     "And exactly how many Xaladians have been hurt or killed by 
offworlders?"
     "Since the Emergence five years ago, there have been between twenty 
and fifty deaths or injuries as a direct result of an encounter with an 
offworlder.  I'm not sure of the exact number."
     B'Elanna regarded him with dark, pensive eyes.  She slowly drew her 
knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her 
chin on her knees.  "What if something bigger happened?"
     "Something bigger?"  Lereb's forehead knitted in confusion.  "I 
don't understand."
     "An invasion, for instance.  What if another race tried to conquer 
Xalad?"
     "That's preposterous!  I can't imagine -- "
     "Hypothetically speaking, then.  What would happen?"
     "Why, Xalad would fight back, of course."
     "What if their technology was more advanced?  What if their 
soldiers largely outnumbered yours?  Then what would you do?"
     "I -- we'd -- "  He tried to stammer a reply, but was unable to 
think of a suitable response.    
     "My point exactly.  You wouldn't have information from other 
species to inform you of an incoming invasion.  You wouldn't have 
updated technology as a result of trade with more sophisticated races.  
You wouldn't have allies to fall back on.  You'd be isolated.  Alone."  
     He stared at the floor, speechless.      
     B'Elanna lowered her voice.  "Xalad would be defeated.  The death 
toll would be more then twenty-some people.  Much more."
     "But that's only a hypothetical situation!"  Lereb distractedly 
rubbed his hands together.
     "Hypothetical, yes, but plausible." 
     He jumped to his feet and moved towards the invisible doorway.  
He reached to "unlock" the door, but his hand trembled and he slumped 
against the wall, his head drooping.  "Why are you telling me this?"
     B'Elanna got up as well and followed him.  "I want you make your 
leaders understand that isolationism might not be what's best for the 
people of Xalad."
     He turned to face her, so abruptly that B'Elanna was nearly 
knocked to the floor.  "Why would you care about Xalad's people?"
     "Because I don't want to be held hostage,"  she said, her voice 
quivering with emotion.  "I want to go back to Tom, and Engineering, and 
my friends.  I don't want to be cooped up in this claustrophobic little 
cubicle with nothing to do except sleep and eat. I want to go *home*!"  
She turned away, tears pricking her eyes, and took deep breaths in an 
attempt to regain control of herself.
     Lereb frowned, his gray eyes troubled.  "I don't like this any 
more than you do, but my hands are tied.  My leaders have made their 
decision and it's my duty to stand by it.  I'm sorry."
     B'Elanna refused to answer him.  She faced the wall, her body 
rigid and unyielding.  Lereb gently touched her shoulder, but she shook 
his hand off.
     "If it makes you feel any better,"  he offered, slight hesitation 
in his voice, "your captain is very upset by your abduction.  She says 
she won't rest until you're safely back on your ship, and I tend to 
believe her."  
     B'Elanna whirled around to face him, her eyes wide and anxious.  
"You've talked to her?"
     "No, not personally.  She transmitted a message on all subspace 
frequencies, and we picked it up over our comm system."
     She gazed at him with renewed hope, her chin lifted and her dark 
eyes glittering.  "I certainly hope the Faction is taking her seriously.  
She means what she says -- I know from experience."
     He nodded, his expression solemn.  "I don't doubt it."
     "Then tell that to your leaders."
     Lereb opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind after 
she turned, once again, to face the wall.  He picked up the tray and 
quietly left the room.  
     It was only after B'Elanna heard the door disappear that she dared 
to let her true feelings show.  Slowly, she sank to the floor and buried 
her head in her hands.  She missed all of them so much -- the captain, 
Harry, Tom...especially Tom.  
     The last time she'd seen him was the night before she had beamed to 
Xalad, when they'd had dinner together in her quarters.  She'd been 
excited about the Away mission, solely because of the prospective 
supplies that Engineering would receive, and Tom had teased her 
mercilessly the entire night.  He'd managed to work her up into a rage, 
and right when she was about to knock him into the next millenium, he'd 
smiled, kissed her cheek, and told her that he loved her.  Instead of 
losing her temper, she'd laughed and kissed him back.  Later, they'd 
fallen asleep on her couch and barely awakened in time for their duty 
shift the next morning.
     It was only a few hours later that she'd beamed to Xalad.  Tom was 
supposed to have met her for dinner after she returned.  B'Elanna wished 
there was some way to let him know that she was safe and unhurt -- for 
the moment, anyway.  There was no telling what her captors might do, 
despite Lereb's assurances that she wouldn't be harmed.
     Lereb, however, continued to puzzle her.  He seemed like a 
reasonably polite person, and under different circumstances she might 
even 
like him.  
     The death of his wife must have presented him to the Isolationist 
Faction as the perfect target.  He worked closely with the queen in the 
Palace, he was relatively young and intelligent, and he was very easily 
influenced.  The recruiters from the Faction most likely waited until he 
felt the most hurt and vulnerable -- probably the day of his wife's 
funeral -- and then sweet-talked him into joining their little group 
with promises that what happened to his wife would never happen again, 
if they succeeded in their quest to remain isolated.  
     "Damn terrorists,"  she muttered.  "They don't care who gets hurt 
as long as they get their way."
     Well, if the captain wasn't going to give up, then neither was she.  
There had to be a way out of this cell, and she intended to find it.    

*

     Two unproductive hours later, B'Elanna had searched every single 
millimeter of her cell but was no closer to finding a way out then she 
had been when she began.  As far as she could figure out, the door 
system seemed to work only when a specific handprint was placed on a 
precise location on the wall.  She could find neither the location nor 
the inner workings of the device, or any other way out.  The entire 
search had been for nothing.
     Briefly, she wondered what would happen if she refused to eat 
unless she was returned to Voyager.  That would get their attention.  On 
the other hand, the food here wasn't that bad, and she really didn't 
have the strength to starve herself.  The sedative she'd received the 
day of her abduction was still wreaking havoc within her body.  Her 
headache had returned with a vengeance, and had brought with it a bout 
of dizziness and a faint touch of nausea.
     She sank into her makeshift bed in the corner of her cell, 
fervently hoping that Captain Janeway was already implementing a rescue 
plan.  If so, then maybe she'd be back on Voyager by tomorrow, or even sooner.  Sickbay had never been more appealing than it was right now.  Hell, even the doctor's cracked sense of humor would be welcome.
      Tomorrow, B'Elanna decided, she was going to work twice as hard to 
find a way out of there.  She was one of the best engineers in the Delta 
Quadrant -- according to Tom -- and she of all people should be able to 
escape from a prison cell, even one as complex as this.  She just needed 
a good night's rest to regain her strength.  
     "Tomorrow, Tom, I'll come back to you," she whispered, and drifted 
off to sleep.

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End of part 1   |   Click here for Part 2