Chakotay
was woken by a cold dash of wine in his face. He spluttered and looked into the
smug grin of the Captain. He looked with loathing at the handsome features of
the cannibal and felt his stomach roil as memory of the K’tech’s corpse
washed over him again. He wasn’t sure whether it was the wine or tears that
stung his eyes but he staggered back to his feet and glared at the alien
Captain.
Tate
was curled in a miserable ball at his feet. He could see a red chafed swelling
around the boy’s collar and he realised his faint must have pulled the
K’tech down with him. The boy seemed unwilling to risk standing again until
ordered, so Chakotay ignored him for the moment and turned his furious eyes back
to the Captain. To his astonishment the Captain immediately roared with
laughter.
“You
should see the look on your face!” the B’rech’kian
sniggered, and the table behind them resounded with equal mirth.
Chakotay spun in
outraged bewilderment. The entire crew were almost hysterical with laughter and
it all was undoubtedly at his expense. For a moment Chakotay wondered whether he
had been set up, shown a holographic corpse in some sick joke, but then one of
the crewmembers speared himself another chunk of the greasy white meat and took
a bite. He made a point of chewing rapturously and then he gave Chakotay a sly
wink.
Chakotay’s
stomach turned over and only he fact that he hadn’t eaten at all that day
stopped him from vomiting on the spot, but his mouth filled with the acrid taste
of his own bile and he visibly gagged.
“Here,”
the Captain said, his laughter replaced with a small measure of concern as his
hostage’s bronze skin turned a distressing shade of green. He snatched a fresh
goblet from the table and thrust it in Chakotay’s hands. Without thinking,
Chakotay gulped a mouthful of the tart wine and as it washed through him he
shuddered and felt a little self-control return.
He
remembered his earlier resolve to help the K’tech and the idea of Tate, Wi or
Skan ever ending up on a dinner table like that simultaneously made his knees
buckle and his resolve strengthen. He realised he had to pull himself together.
It
was obvious from the crew’s reactions that they had expected him to be
horrified and found it amusing rather than offensive. That made sense, he
realised. He wasn’t the first outsider in their ranks and it was likely that
all their previous hostages had reacted with similar horror.
He suspected that the scene had been played for maximum impact and he
turned accusingly to the B’rech’k Captain.
“I am glad I have
provided you with tonight’s entertainment,” he said coolly
The Captain
guffawed and slapped him across the back in a comradely fashion. Chakotay’s
skin crawled at the physical contact but he remained outwardly calm.
“It is always
best to be upfront, Chakotay,” the Captain replied with amusement “We have
found in the past that our new crew members have become needlessly distressed
when they have discovered what they have been eating after the event. We
understand that you are a barbarian and have convoluted ideas of right and
wrong. We are simply endeavoring to help you understand your new way of
life.”
“I take it, then,
that dinner is not usually served in this grotesque manner?” Chakotay replied
tightly
“My, you are a
cool one, aren’t you?” the alien said, with amused respect. He began to usher
Chakotay down the table. Tate quickly scrambled to his feet as his chain was
yanked and he trotted to catch up.
The Captain
gestured significantly to the empty chair next to his own and then sat himself
down. Chakotay reluctantly complied with the silent command and Tate slithered
to his knees next to his chair and leant against his legs like an obedient dog.
Chakotay found himself absently petting the boy’s head as he carefully chose
his next words.
“I have a
question if I may, Captain.”
The Captain gave
him an interested look. He had never met an alien barbarian with as much quiet
dignity as this Chakotay. Despite his faint, Chakotay’s reactions so far had
been disappointingly calm. He had expected the man to retch all over the place
and scream blue murder. It was the way all of the previous hostages had reacted
at first. Apart from his quiet faint and the flashing fury in his brown eyes,
Chakotay had provided no entertainment for the crew after all.
It intrigued him so
he gestured expansively:
“We are off duty,
you may call me Ikton, and you may ask ANY question although I may of course
decline to answer,” he said
“How many
K’tech does each of the crew have as attendants?” Chakotay asked him in a
deceptively mild voice
Ikton looked at him
and frowned in surprise but he answered the strange question regardless.
“The crew all
have one personal K’tech. Officers have two. Senior Officers have three.”
“I have three?”
Chakotay queried
Hostages
are given three in acknowledgement of their previous rank and our hope that they
will become equally useful members of B’rech’k society.”
I see,” Chakotay said, making a show of visibly relaxing. He took a long draught
of his wine and sat back in his chair, stretching his legs out comfortably.
Ikton was unsettled
by his hostage’s peculiar behaviour.
“WHAT do you
see?” he demanded petulantly.
Chakotay turned to
him and gave a vicious grin:
“You set me up.
You deliberately provided a fourth K’tech. Made sure that I rejected him.
Killed him and then displayed him like a prime roast here as a further
‘lesson’.”
Ikton raised his
eyebrows in surprise at his captive’s astuteness
“I SAID you were
a clever little barbarian. You’re right. We don’t usually serve K’tech in
such a manner. Even B’rech’k prefer not to think about the meat they eat.
Hypocrisy of course, but then again it can be a little unsettling to eat an
animal you have become fond of.”
“You said you had
barely enough to last. Does that mean you are intending to eat ALL of the
K’tech before we arrive at B’rech’knar?” Chakotay asked with studied
indifference, but secretly his hand squeezed Tate comfortingly on the shoulder
as he felt the boy tremble at his question.
Ikton laughed.
“Of course not. I only said it for effect. Personal K’tech are only eaten if
they are put down for other reasons. We have a supply of meat K’tech also. To
be honest, by the time a K’tech is old enough to be much use in the bedroom,
their meat is too tough and stringy to enjoy. Most of the meat K’tech are far
younger and more succulent. Although
we obviously never waste good food, especially on a long journey.”
“I’m sure
you’re right,” Chakotay replied, his face set in a mask of serenity,
“Although I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“I’m afraid
not. Unless you want to live on bread and fruit. There is no other meat on
board.” Ikton said firmly.
Chakotay shrugged.
“I’m a vegetarian. It’s my religion. I don’t eat meat. Ever.”
“Oddly enough,
that’s what my last Hostage said but when he got hungry enough, he had a
change of heart,” Ikton mocked. “No matter, no one will force you, Chakotay.
Tonight was not about making you eat, it was about teaching you
responsibility.”
“To my
K’tech.”
“Exactly,”
Ikton said, gratified by Chakotay’s quick understanding.
“So if I fail to
please you, they end up here.”
“Put it this way,
Chakotay, if you are a Senior Officer you keep all three. If you prove less
useful and can only act as
"And
should I fail to co-operate at all?”
"Then
you will be kept as a prisoner instead and all three of your K’tech will be
put back in the pen with the other meat K’tech. That’s where they were
before you came on board. They are undoubtedly extremely grateful for this
chance to survive the journey. Our current crew have sufficient attendants and
we never waste food.”
“So
I have no choice.” Chakotay said, unable to hide his bitterness.
Ikton grinned.
“It is so nice to have an intelligent recruit. I see that you have already
become fond of them. It would be a shame if they ended up on a table. You have a
responsibility to them now, especially since you gave them names.”
Chakotay flinched
at the confirmation that he was being watched in his quarters.
“Is that a
problem?” he asked
“It’s certainly
UNUSUAL,” Ikton replied genially. “They aren’t pets. They are K’tech. Do
your people name meat animals?”
“My people are
vegetarian, as I told you.” Chakotay replied “But the people I know who eat
meat, don’t eat other people.”
Ikton glared at
him. “They may LOOK human, but they are just animals.” He hissed
Chakotay blinked in
surprise. He had been aware since his arrival that there must be a ship wide
universal translator since he had experienced no language difficulties despite
the confiscation of his own translator. However, the term human appeared
incongruous.
“Human?” He
queried
“It is our term
for people,” Ikton explained, equally confused by Chakotay’s question. “It
is strange that you understand our language so well but not that term.”
“I do, I merely
thought it strange that the translator would use it.”
“What
translator?” Ikton asked in genuine puzzlement
Chakotay felt the
world shake a little around him as he absorbed the facts and faced the terrible
truth. The B’rech’k looked human. They spoke federation standard. These
weren’t aliens at all. They were humans from the Alpha Quadrant, just like
himself. Human cannibals.
“I have to go,” he gasped and jerked to his feet. Tate yelped at his sudden movement and only
just managed to scramble to his feet before Chakotay raced out of the hall, his
hand over his mouth.
He only made it to
the corridor before his heaving stomach emptied wine and bile onto the floor.
He had managed to hold it together as long as he had been able to tell
himself that both the B’rech’k and K’tech were aliens. Somehow he had
managed to distance himself from the situation but with the understanding that
these monsters actually shared a common descent with him, the horror had become
too much.
His stomach was
empty but still he retched dryly until he feared his stomach lining would rip
itself out. He barely noticed the
light beam that descended and cleaned the splattered floor. He was aware of
Tate’s terrified whimpering but he couldn’t find the strength to comfort the
boy. He couldn’t even bear to look at the pathetic creature that had merely
knelt submissively at his feet while a member of his own race had been eaten.
He knew he was
being unfair, but he was furiously angry with the K’tech. Tate, Wi and Skan
were the method by which the B’rech’k would control him and he hated them
for being such a burden on his conscience. For their sake he was going to have
to co-operate with their evil masters. It made him sick.
“Damn you.” He
hissed at the boy then gave a sob of shame as he saw Tate collapse in a
bewildered heap at his feet and hug his legs for forgiveness of his unknown
transgression.
As he helped the
trembling boy back up with soothing noises and gentle strokes he realised the
cunning insidiousness of the B’rech’k. No wonder their hostages all
capitulated. Ikton undoubtedly knew Chakotay would rather die himself than let
these innocents suffer and that had been the whole point of today’s lessons.
The B’rech’k
had forced him into sexual relations with the K’tech so that he felt not only
a moral but also a personal obligation to them. Then they had showed him with
swift ruthlessness that K’tech had absolutely no more value alive than dead.
Had he still been
under the illusion that the K’tech and B’rech’k were separate alien races
he would have still felt the same disgust and horror at the situation. But,
somehow, knowing that they were all simply human made it unbearable.
The real questions
now were how had a whole civilization been transported here from the Alpha
Quadrant and how the hell had it simultaneously developed into technological
advancement and moral depravity. How and why had the blond humans become cattle
and the brunet humans their cannibalistic masters? And why did the B’rech’k
have a problem with their gene pool?
Chakotay had a
feeling that if he could get the answers to those questions he would have a
better grasp of what the hell was going on with this sick society. Knowledge was
power, and he needed power if he was going to change things.
He also needed to
go back into the dining room.
Although the
B’rech’k made him physically sick, he would be helpless as a prisoner. He
needed to co-operate and gain their trust. His innate honesty made acting and
lying difficult but the one strength he had was his ability to maintain either a
calm, stoic exterior or an illusion of anger.
He had needed both
to hide his feelings from Tom for all those years. He had managed to convince
Tom that he hated him. Surely he could be equally successful in convincing Ikton
that he liked him.
Chakotay looked at
Tate’s blond hair and a feeling of desperate loneliness overwhelmed him. He
would never see Tom again and the knowledge that he would never again get the
chance to see the younger man ripped at his heart.
His memory of the smug arrogant beautiful pilot was suddenly replaced by
a vision of Tom lying on a B’rech’k table, cooked and carved.
He shuddered
convulsively. He had no doubt that if he had failed to take Tom’s place it
would have been the pilot on that table tonight. He wanted to roar with anger.
He wanted to find the self-destruct control on this ship and blow the whole
damned crew to hell. Instead, with a final comforting pat on Tate’s flank he
turned back to the arch and walked calmly back into the dining hall.
As he approached
Ikton, the raucous chatter of the crew petered away and all eyes turned to watch
his return. Ikton looked up at him in cautious surprise.
Chakotay shrugged
casually. “It was a mistake to drink on an empty stomach” he said and
reached over the table to grab a plateful of fruit and a hunk of dark brown
bread.
Ikton noticed the
way Chakotay kept his eyes carefully averted from the roast but made no comment.
He couldn’t believe that the alien had returned at all. This Chakotay was
obviously going to fit in fine with his crew after all, he decided. Usually
hostages lost at least two of their K’tech before they saw the light.
The B’rech’k on
Chakotay’s right turned to him with a friendly grin. Chakotay froze his face
into placidity and tried desperately to ignore the greasy meat juices that were
smeared on the man’s face. This B’rech’k was far lighter in skin than
Ikton, almost Chakotay’s skin tone, but his features were far coarser.
“I’m Olmac,”
he said “I’m chief engineer. You any good with engines?” and he gave a
hopeful smile
“Not really,”
Chakotay confessed. “I’m more of a pilot, actually.”
At his other side
Ikton choked noisily and then cuffed Chakotay across the back of the head. The
blow was evidently meant playfully although it made Chakotay’s ears ring.
“You BASTARD!”
Ikton chortled, “I KNEW a K’tech couldn’t really fly a ship. It was
another of your sick jokes wasn’t it?”
Chakotay nearly
denied it and then realised that there was always the smallest chance that
Voyager might return for him and bring Tom back within Ikton’s reach. He
grinned back at the B’rech’k Captain.
“Of course,” he
replied, and gave an apologetic shrug.
“I LIKE you,”
Ikton laughed delightedly. “I think today was a good day for us all.” He
turned to the rest of the crew “Lets all drink to our new Senior Pilot
Chakotay!”
The B’rech’k
all raised their goblets good-heartedly and toasted the announcement. Chakotay
tipped his own cup and pretended to join in but didn’t. It was a small hollow
victory not to join the toast but he was damned if he would pay more than lip
service to the bastards.
He then turned to
Ikton. “I appreciate the position, Captain, but I doubt I will understand your
technology.”
Ikton checked that
Olmac wasn’t listening and then confessed
“Actually, you
don’t need to. The whole ship is automatic anyway. We are on a pre-programmed
flight path. To be honest, when your ship appeared we were just in the right
place at the right time. Olmac likes to tinker with things but he hasn’t got a
clue either, really.”
Chakotay listened
in growing bewilderment. “You mean none of you know how this ship works?” he
asked
Ikton shrugged.
“We don’t need to. It flies itself. We are on a fixed four-month loop. The
ship flies from B’rech’knar to the defence grid. Stops for a week and then
returns home. “
“So you didn’t
detect our entrance, we just happened to arrive during the layover week?”
“We were lucky.
Lots of trips are a complete waste of time. Of course we would LIKE to be able
to do more than constantly fly in a circle.”
“So why isn’t
the programming changed?”
“No one knows how
to do it. It’s not like we built the bloody thing,” Ikton guffawed
“Who did?”
Chakotay asked
“We don’t know
for sure. Our priests say it is a divine gift, but sensible people think it’s
just some left over alien technology from the crossing.”
“The crossing?”
“Oh, just old
legends really. Boring stuff about how the B’rech’k found
B’rech’knar.” Ikton said dismissively and reached for his plate in clear
evidence that he had no intention of continuing the discussion that night.
Chakotay sighed but
decided he had at least some useful details already. At least it explained the
incongruity of the technologically superior ship and the barbaric crew and
‘the crossing’ was presumably an explanation of how humans had arrived in
the Delta Quadrant.
His instinct to
return to the hall had paid off in spades, he decided. He wasn’t foolish
enough to think that the B’rech’k would trust him yet, and he would
undoubtedly be monitored for some time. Yet his otherwise pointless appointment
to Senior Pilot had saved Tate, Wi and Skan, which had been his primary
objective after all.
His musing was
disturbed by a groan from Ikton. He turned to the Captain and then wished he
hadn’t. The Captain’s K’tech had crawled between his master’s legs and
his head was buried in Ikton’s groin. Despite
his disgust at the scene, the slurping noises of the K’tech, the distinct odor of male musk and Ikton’s evident enjoyment had a disturbing effect on
his own cock.
He flushed in
renewed self-disgust. He knew that he had been celibate for a long time before
his capture and that his body was responding of its own volition but even so it
was unconceivable that he should become aroused so quickly after his two earlier
orgasms, particularly in the presence of a dismembered body. His stomach roiled
again at the thought.
Tate’s hand
snaked tentatively between his legs. The K’tech were trained to immediately
notice and to respond to the signs of arousal in their masters. Chakotay
stiffened in panic. He looked around to see if anyone would notice if he simply
pushed Tate away. To his relief they were all occupied by their own K’tech.
The dining room had descended into an orgy.
He disengaged
Tate’s fingers and then looked up, straight into Olmac’s face. The
B’rech’kian’s previously friendly eyes were narrowed in suspicion as he
glanced first at Chakotay, then to Tate and then to Chakotay’s goblet.
Realisation dawned on Chakotay. There had obviously been some mild aphrodisiac
in the wine and he had thrown up most of his first cup and had only pretended to
join in the toast with his second.
It’s a nightmare,
Chakotay decided. I simply can’t do this!
Then he felt
Tate’s shivering fear through his trousers and he realised that he had no
choice. He reached down and unfastened his waistband to release his erection.
Tate scrambled with relief until he was knelt between Chakotay’s legs and then
he descended his head into Chakotay’s lap.
Chakotay gave a
gasp of mingled anger and desire as his cock was swallowed whole into Tate’s
eager mouth and he looked up to meet Olmac’s smirk at his capitulation.
Chakotay closed his eyes to shut out the vision of the B’rech’k. Unable to
prevent Tate’s attentions he decided he might as well sit back and use the
sensations shooting through his groin as a way of escaping his terrible reality.
He wondered what
his spirit guide would have to say to him about this.
He was in the middle of a room full of cannibals being publicly sucked
off by a terrified slave and he was actually getting more aroused by the minute.
Tears of shame prickled the back of his eyes. He knew he had no choice but he
was damned ashamed of enjoying it.
Another voice in
the back of his head told him he might as well since he would probably be
spending many more nights in this humiliating position.
As he saw it he had
only three choices. One was suicide and the thought was actually appealing but
he knew he couldn’t do it. He would be taking the easy way out and leaving his
k’tech to suffer for his cowardice. The second was to tell the B’rech’k
exactly what he thought of them and be imprisoned. Again that would only lead to
the return of Tate, Wi and Skan to the B’rech’k ‘larder’.
So the third, and
to be honest, only option was to continue playing along with the B’rech’k
until he had a chance to actually do something.
The problem was, he
hadn’t got the faintest idea yet what that something would be.