The USS Jaxartes was now in pursuit of a much larger and more powerful vessel belonging to the Devore Imperium; currently on board and being held against his will was the Vulcan Commander, Salan.  How Lieutenant Devron planned to get the Commander back; he hadn’t a clue.  For now all he could do was follow, and hope an opportunity presented itself.  They had no idea where they were or where the warship was heading; the ‘Jax’ was as good as lost. 

Leaving Lieutenant Stuart in charge, he headed for sick bay to check on the only other member of the crew to be subject to the interests of the Devore. “How is he?” Devron asked the moment he entered.

Doctor Andrianakis was running through a batch of test results on her Padd, and looked across to him. “I can’t figure out half the stuff they must have pumped into his body.” She replied in a less abrasive tone than she’d used on their previous encounter: turning to the Chief Engineer of the Bio-bed to her left. “I’m keeping him under whilst I figure out the best way to proceed.”

Devron walked over to the side of the bed; Torf just seemed to be sleeping, he was wearing a small breathing mask over the mouth and nose, and there was a small monitoring device placed on his forehead.  It was the bruising though, that stood out.  There was a large purple bruise across the right cheek and another smaller one just under the chin.  Across the knuckles of his left hand, the indication of another was clearly evident.  There was no telling what the sheet over the Betazoid’s body was hiding.  The Doctor could tell what the Lieutenant was thinking, without being able to read his mind.  “Oh, they worked him over pretty good.” She informed him bleakly.”  They looked much worse than that an hour ago.”  Andrianakis indicated; referring to the bruises. 

“Animals.” Devron balled up his fists.  There was no other word he could say to describe the Devore and how he felt about them. Was the Commander going through the same sort of torture right now? 

            **********

The Vulcan Commander did indeed have scares and bruises across his body.  One of his captors appeared to delight in the idea of inflicting pain on others.  An individual who’s skills in torture even shocked those of his own kind at times.  Within the bowels of the Devore vessel was his domain; a series of dimly lit cells and other rooms either equipped to extract information or from which to monitor everything; were only those with a strong stomach ever dared venture willingly. 

“Kurn, must you enjoy your work so much?” Koryl asked looking across at the three screens all showing the Vulcan in the centre of a room, from various angles.  Strapped to a metal chair; his chest bare, head lolled to one side.  Welts and bruising visible to anyone who cared to look.

The other man had just come from that room, which was just down the corridor “You know very well I’m the best in our division at extracting information.” Kurn sneered back.  He was short, stockier in his build compared to most Devore.  Yet despite having the appearance of someone more prone to getting into fights, Kurn held several degrees in medical science. Knowledge that he’d used to hone his skills.

“And how much have you exactly discovered?” Koryl poked the other man with his right index finger on the shoulder. “Or more to the point; anything actually useful to us?” 

“He has no idea why they got dragged in, or why this section of the network isn’t working as it should.” Kurn admitted in frustration. 

“So exactly what their computers indicated.”  Mocked Koryl

“Information on computers can be falsified, a mind cannot lie; least of all to me.” The shorter man was angry, both with the fact he’d been unable to find anything useful out and the attitude the Assistant Inspector was taking towards his vital work. 

Koryl moved towards the door. “Stick out guest in a cell and I’ll inform the Inspector of your progress.”  The door had closed behind him, when Koryl heard a faint thud.  Something hard had been bounced off the door.  He chuckled to himself momentarily, before scowling.  He enjoyed seeing their ‘Chief Torturer’ getting mad.  They had a job to do, yes; but that man relished his role far too much, and he was far too sure of himself; both of which left a bad taste in Koryl’s mouth.  The guards along his route out of that section acknowledge his approach with a crisp salute at each of the three security check points.  The last of which took him outside the Transporter Inhibiter Field.  There was no way anyone could ever escape from here, not without a lot of help at least.  The Assistant Inspector took the nearest lift and headed back to the bridge.

The bridge, like almost all of the ship was stark and gloomy; a complete contrast to the bright, dare he say friendly nature of the Federation vessel he’d inspected earlier.  This was a ship build of function and purpose, everything in it had a role to play in adding the Imperium in its duty to hunt down those who would undermine their authority.  That other ship, as small and insignificant as it may seem; whilst designed to carry out a number of roles, it was also designed with some level of comfort to its crew.  Was he feeling a level of jealous towards these outsides?  Koryl shook the thought from him mind; before peering over the shoulder of a crew member at the screen they were monitoring.

“Federation still following us I see.” He commented.

Inspector Pyshal turned having not noticed the arrival of his second in command before he had spoken.  “Yes they are maintaining a distance I assume is the best their sensors can manage without losing track of us.”

“I still can’t understand why you pulled them out of there in the first place?” Koryl enquired.  “You usually love blowing people up.”

Pyshal laughed at that last part.  He did have to admit that he did have a reputation for swiftly and effectively dealing with undesirables; how else could he have reason to such an important position as fast as he had.  “Whilst they are alive they are working on the same problems we are.  How to find a way out of this place!” 

“Do you think they could solve it before we do?”  The Assistant Inspector, asked.

“Well if they do, we can either follow them or take that knowledge by force.” Smile the Inspector.  “They are only alive whilst I deem it appropriate.” 

As if to emphasis the situation they were faced with: the ships navigator called from the front of the bridge. “We’re approaching junction four, sir.”

“Take the upper tunnel.” Ordered Pyshal, without any hesitation.  The last time they’d headed down the lower one only to eventual find themselves coming back along sections they’d already travelled down.  The only difference being; this time around, the dicovery of the Starfleet vessel. Eleven days they’d spent in this hellish maze, wondering around.   At first the warship had been dragged in and sent hurtling down one of the tunnels that made up Underspace; it was a place the Devore Imperium knew about but usually avoided.  There had been no chance to avoid this time.  Twenty-seven dead and half that number again seriously injured, a quarter of the ships entire crew had suffered minor injuries, after being flung around.  He fully expected for the ship to be expelled out of another random opening; but that never happened.  In fact the forces propelling them along had slowed and ceased.  It had given them time to repair and without external forces at work, gave them to choose their own path, yet none so far had yelded a way out.