A/N: Yes, I know, the whole Uhura-getting-kidnapped bit has been done before, several times. But I wanted to write my own version. I warn you now, this one is dark, with little or no fluff. I'm rating it T for violence and some strong language. This was originally intended to be a one-shot, but it got too long on me, so I sort of made it a two-shot. I hope it doesn't deter readers.

Also- if you haven't read my other three one-shots, I would recommend them, although it's not required to read them to read this...I promise, they're a lot shorter!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Star Trek. I'm starting to give up hope that I ever will. *Sigh*.

Silence in the Dark- Part I

It was one month into their mission- and they were finally given the chance to explore an inhabited but unvisited planet.

Or at least, the sensors showed that it was an inhabited planet.

Nyota looked around, frowning ever so slightly. They had met nothing other than a few small mammals and reptiles since their arrival three hours before. Yet...their tricorders said they should have met someone by now. Scanners had specifically said that the natives of Scorpius III were humanoids, and the population of the small planet was somewhere in between thirty and forty thousand. The coordinates they had been beamed to were supposed to be the most densely populated area.

And still...nothing. It was unsettling.

"Could the sensors have somehow been wrong? Or given us the wrong coordinates?" Nyota asked as she hurried to catch up to the first officer. Spock tilted his head a little to the left, still walking, his stride longer than hers, which forced her to walk faster.

"I have recently performed diagnostics on the entire computer system. The event of an error is highly unlikely." Spock replied. "I propose the theory that the natives are hiding."

"But they can't just hide! The tricorders aren't registering any significant life signs at all." Nyota replied.

"I know as much as you do at this time, Lieutenant." Spock said, adding emphasis to her title. This was his way of reminding her that as long as they were on duty, they were not lovers- they were professionals. And she was beginning to be impertinent.

"Of course, Commander." Nyota murmured, and then fell back.

No one knew of their relationship except for Kirk, and possibly Scotty and Chekov, who had all been in the transporter room the day of Vulcan's destruction. Nyota and Spock were extremely careful- almost paranoid, even. They hardly spoke beyond their professional duties when outside their quarters, lest someone see them conversing and get the wrong idea. They snuck around when their shifts were over to meet up in one or the other's quarters- of course, Spock did not call it 'sneaking around'. He called it merely being 'discrete' and 'guarding their privacy'.

She knew it was necessary, to avoid gossip spreading about them- but sometimes it was distressing. She wished they did not have to hide their relationship. But they could not risk someone claiming that Spock was giving Nyota favoritism- which was still as much of a problem on a starship as it had been back at the Academy.

Everyone who knew Spock knew, of course, that he was incapable of favoritism. But that would not stop Starfleet personnel from spreading rumors, which would eventually reach Starfleet Command and result in a court-martial hearing.

Added to that was Spock's Vulcan sense of privacy. He disliked (although he would never use that word) the idea of everyone knowing about them. Maybe he thought it made him seem too human, or he didn't want to explain how their relationship was not illogical. Either way, it was obvious that the crew was not going to find out that their first officer and Chief Communications officer were 'involved'. It wasn't hard to keep up the pretense- Spock was Vulcan, after all.

She watched as he picked his way through the dense vegetation. Scorpius III was made up almost entirely of rain forests, and they had beamed directly down into one. They were surrounded on all sides by tall trees and thick green plants. The heat and humidity were making it hard to keep moving- at least for the humans. Spock may have not found the humidity comfortable, but he could stand the heat much better than they could. He hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Damn it!" said an agitated voice from behind her. Nyota turned to see Dr. McCoy, his medical bag snagged on a bush. He tugged on it irritably before freeing it, and wiping a sleeve across his forehead. "We'd better meet one of these people soon. I want to go back to the ship, where I can be of some use."

"And I'm sure you are plenty useful in treating common colds and papercuts." Kirk said with an amused expression. "Face it, Bones- this is more exciting than sitting in sickbay filling out reports and conducting physicals!"

"I'm a doctor, not an adventurer." McCoy grumbled, catching up to Kirk.

"I'm hoping we meet one of these natives soon, too, Captain." Nyota said, falling in next to them. "Or else I could've been on the bridge this whole time. I came down here to record a possible new language, not to walk around."

"This is strange. We should've met someone, right?" Kirk said, looking around.

"Maybe we scared them off." McCoy grumbled.

"Anything yet, Spock?" Kirk called. Spock was now nearly ten meters ahead of them.

"No, Captain." Spock replied. All three humans sighed in frustration.

The two men from security who had accompanied them to the planet surface, Thompson and Watkins, were not far behind them, and Nyota heard one of them curse as he almost tripped over a root. She glanced back at them briefly, and turned back to Kirk.

"Captain, I don't think any of us can go on much longer."

"I have to agree with that, Jim." McCoy said. "It's hot as all hell down here."

"Another ten minutes and we'll call it quits. Then we'll head back to the Enterprise and check out the sensors, make sure nothing is wrong." Kirk replied. "Makes no sense-"

He was interrupted by Spock's voice from up ahead.
"Captain! There are twelve life signatures coming this way." he said, stopping in his tracks. Soon Kirk, McCoy, Nyota, and the two men from security were crowded around him.

"From which direction?" Kirk asked, eyes glinting with excitement. Nyota also felt some excitement- she could very possibly discover a new language! She was eager to study it.

Spock stared at the tricorder screen for a moment longer, and then slowly looked up at Kirk.

"From all around us, Captain." he replied evenly. "I believe this is what is called an 'ambush'."

As he said this, Nyota saw a figure silently step out from behind a tree, raising a strange contraption that vaguely resembled a crossbow. It was pointed directly at Spock's back. She gasped.

"Spock!" she called out, and he looked at her, obviously about to reprimand her for using his name. Then he saw the alarm on her face, and spun around just in time to see the string release, and the arrow streak towards him. It struck his right shoulder, and she heard his sharp intake of breath. He stumbled backwards slightly, almost tripping on a rock protruding from the ground. Nyota, who was standing directly behind him, caught him. He was able to regain his footing, and as he was standing again, another arrow was let loose- this time hitting one of the security men directly in the heart.

"Damn it!" McCoy shouted, kneeling down beside him, but the man was already dead. His green eyes stared off at nothing.

Suddenly, a harsh shout rent the air. It was not from any of the landing party. Nyota looked around, and saw for the first time that eleven other men had appeared around them in a circle. The biggest one was now yelling at the man who had fired upon the away team.

Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and the remaining security officer all had their phasers drawn. Nyota drew hers as well. Her heart was pounding in her throat, and looking down at herself she noticed that she was covered in green blood. She glanced back at Spock- the arrow was still in his shoulder, but it was not a serious wound. She suppressed a relieved sigh- they weren't out of this mess yet.

It seemed that the man who had injured Spock and killed the security officer had not been acting on the leader's orders. This infuriated Nyota even more- the officer had been killed for no reason! That could easily be Spock laying there dead...she pushed the thought away. She couldn't bear to think of that now.

She turned her attention to the men who surrounded them. They still held their strange crossbow weapons pointed at them. They were humanoid, which they had expected- with eerie yellow eyes and long, black tangled hair and beards. Their skin was dark- much darker than Nyota's. They wore what looked like animal skins and leaves sewn together. As one man bared his teeth at her, she noted another difference- the inhabitants of Scorpius III had sharp teeth. Very sharp teeth.

The landing party was now bunched together in a circle, facing their attackers with their backs pressed together. When Nyota shuddered upon seeing those sharp teeth, Spock felt it, since he was to her left. She was surprised when his right hand brushed lightly against hers, and he sent her waves of calm.

"Remain calm, ashayam." he murmured in Vulcan. "I will protect you."

His words touched her, and she suddenly felt much safer. How could she possibly worry with Spock around to watch over her? He had once told her how territorial Vulcans could be...surely, if anyone tried anything with her, he would put a stop to it. She was his.

They were hopelessly outnumbered. They couldn't possibly use their phasers fast enough to save themselves from the arrows that would be released as soon as they began to fire. The natives were glaring at them, baring their teeth, eying Nyota in a way that made her nervous, despite Spock's warm fingers that were still against her wrist.

"Got a plan?" McCoy, who was on her right, hissed at Kirk, who was on his right.

"Not yet." Kirk whispered back. "I'm working on it."

"That's comforting." McCoy muttered.

The leader of the party was done screaming at the man who had killed the officer. He turned now to the landing party, pacing up and down before them, eying each of them closely. His strange yellow eyes lingered on Spock's ears and slanted eyebrows longer than the rest. He said something in his harsh, guttural tongue, which reminded Nyota greatly of Klingon. Then he turned to Nyota, his tough expression altering very quickly. His voice was suddenly much softer as he reached out to stroke her cheek with one finger. She shuddered involuntarily at the contact. At the same time, a deep rumbling growl came from her left. Eyes wide, she looked over at Spock. Had that been him? She had never heard him make that particular sound before....

"Spock?" she whispered. His eyes were trained on the man before him, who was again watching Spock.

"She is mine." Spock said in Vulcan. It did not matter that the man before them could not understand his words. His meaning was clear.

The man barked out a laugh, and suddenly reached out to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her away from the others and to his side, knocking the phaser out of her hand as he did so. He shook his head and said something in his own language. Nyota felt sick to her stomach- he smelled like stale sweat and dirt, and he was not fit like the other men that surrounded them- he was immensely fat. But that wasn't what disgusted her- it was obvious that he was claiming her as his. Her eyes darted back to Spock, and she was surprised by what she saw. His expression was as composed as ever, but his nostrils were slightly flared, the hand at his side was balled up in a fist, and the hand clutching the phaser was gripping it harder than necessary. The last time she had seen him like this, Kirk had nearly lost his life.

Apparently, Kirk noticed the warning signs as well, and he was also the only one present who knew just what Nyota meant to Spock. Or had an idea of it, anyway. He stepped forward, between Spock and the large native.

"Come on...really...just calm down. Release her and we'll leave, never to bother you again." he said in a coaxing tone.

Of course, the man had no idea what Kirk was saying. His yellow eyes narrowed at him, and then he reached out to push Kirk out of his way so he could see Spock again. As he did so, he pulled Nyota even closer against his side.

She grimaced, and tried to fight him, but he was surprisingly strong. She shouted out as she tried to kick him, but he held her so tightly she could barely move. Fear started to seep into her...her heart was pounding wildly, drumming against her ribs. Her eyes were wide, and she felt tears starting to form.

"Let me go, you bastard!" she spat. Her eyes fixed on Spock, who had lowered his phaser. His eyes were flashing in anger, even if he did still look completely calm.

It happened suddenly- Spock lunged toward the man holding Nyota, and three of the natives lunged toward him. There was a brief scuffle, but Nyota couldn't see what was happening- the big man was pulling her away, toward the trees. She screamed and scratched at him with her nails, trying to escape- but his grip on her arm was strong. She heard a short cry of pain from behind her- and knew it was Spock.

"Spock!" she cried, and managed to rip her arm away from the man's grip. She ran back to the spot where the others were, and saw phaser-fire. They were all fighting now, natives and away team alike.

She looked wildly around, and found Spock. He was on his knees, struggling to get up. The shaft of the arrow had been broken- apparently, that was when he had cried out.

"Spock!" she called out again, and he looked up.

"Nyota!" he said, and suddenly he was on his feet again, making his way back to her.

Before they could touch, she felt arms around her from behind again- many arms. When she twisted around to look, she saw that no less than five men had grabbed her and were dragging her back toward the leader.

"NO!" Spock cried, and that cry alone was enough to make her heart stop. She had never heard so much emotion in his voice before.

She struggled against them, hard...until she felt something heavy hit her head. She cried out as pain spread through her skull, her own voice sounding distant to her ears...her vision swam...the last thing she saw was Spock struggling against three other men to get to her, his face illuminated by the red phaser fire that still lit the clearing...his voice again calling out to her with raw emotion...

____________________________________________________________

When she felt the oppressive black curtain beginning to lift from her mind, she blinked her eyes slowly open. She felt dizzy, disoriented...where was she? Why couldn't she move?

Then she remembered...flashes of red phaser fire...Spock's face...his voice, calling out to her...pain, blackness...

Her head jerked up, her mind a little clearer. She looked around, breathing hard, heart thudding against her ribcage. She was in what looked like a small building made from slats of wood and large green leaves. The floor beneath her was dirt. Her wrists were tied together, and also tied to a thick pole that ran horizontally across the hut. She hung limply by her arms, her feet barely touching the ground. Her ankles were also tied together.

Her shoes were gone, and her uniform was ripped in several places. That must have happened during the struggle. Her head throbbed, and her face felt stiff- probably with dried blood. Her shoulders ached, most likely from hanging limply by her arms while unconscious.

She wondered how long she had been there. Bright sunlight poured through the spaces in between slats in the walls, and she knew it it had to have been several hours, since it was late afternoon when the ambush occurred. This looked like the bright light of early morning.

Then she wondered, with a start, what had happened to the others. Were they taken hostage too? Were they released? Were they...no, she could not let herself think that way. Spock couldn't be dead. She wouldn't accept it.

She tested her bonds. They were very strong- much stronger than normal rope. They were also rougher, and when she moved her skin burned.

She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry, not to think of what may have happened to the others. She took in a long, shuddering breath and released it. If only her mind wasn't so clouded...and her head didn't throb with every heartbeat...

She shook her head to clear it, and looked around the hut. All first-year cadets at the Academy were required to take a survival class...one of the first things they taught was how to improvise. There had to be a way out of here.

Nyota was eying a thin pole leaning against the corner of the hut when a shadow fell across the doorway. Her eyes darted toward the massive figure now walking into the hut, followed by a younger man. It was the same man from before- the one who had claimed her as his.

She shot him the most murderous glare she could muster as he came near. His dark skin was glistening with oils, and she noticed for the first time that unlike the others', his clothing was trimmed with fur and made with more skill. Apparently, he was important to his people.

"What do you want with me?" she hissed. "Where are my friends? Where's Spock?"

He didn't seem to recognize any of her words until she said Spock's name. Then he laughed smugly. She felt her stomach clench, and she had the overwhelming desire to throw up all over him. She couldn't seem to draw in a breath. If he laughed when she said Spock's name...that couldn't be a good sign.

"Where is he, you son of a bitch?" she screamed. "Where's Spock? I swear to God, if you hurt him or anyone else...I'm going to fucking kill you!"

It seemed that the gist of her words was clear to him, because his smile was suddenly gone. He turned to the smaller man and spoke one word.

Nyota watched with growing trepidation as the man left the hut. While he was gone, the larger man watched her somberly, stroking his thick black heard. She wondered what was about to happen.

Soon, the other man returned with a bucket. It was full of water that sloshed over the sides as he carried it behind her. She wondered what he was doing, and twisted her head around as much as possible, in time to see him withdraw a knife from a sack tied around his waist. The metal glimmered as he raised it, and she jerked away from him instinctively. One large dark hand grasped her shoulder to hold her still, and she squeezed her eyes shut in preparation. Then she heard the sound of cloth being ripped away, and she could feel his breath against her back. She was shaking.

She wasn't prepared for the sudden deluge of icy cold water, and she cried out. Once the initial shock wore off, she opened her eyes and looked up at the man standing before her. She could hear the droplets of water falling to the dirt floor with soft thuds, and felt the water trickling down her back. She was shivering violently now. She waited for what would happen next as she glared at the leader.

She didn't have to wait long. Without warning, she felt a sharp stinging across her back. She had been so absorbed with watching the leader, she hadn't noticed the other man retrieve the pole from the corner. If she had, she would have been prepared.

She barely had time to recover from the first blow before the second landed, the pole and the wet skin meeting like fire. She cried out again, her back arching. She was gasping for breath as the third landed.

The air was filled with the sick sound of wood against flesh and her screams of pain. She tried to bite them back, tried to prove that she was strong, but the pain only seemed to intensify the longer they beat her. She screamed, but she did not cry. No tears ran down those caramel-colored cheeks.

It seemed as if hours had passed by the time the leader commanded his companion to cease. Nyota could hardly enjoy the absence of the stinging blows...her back still felt aflame.

She slumped against her bonds, letting the ropes hold her up, her feet dragging slightly in the mud beneath her as she swayed. Her eyes were closed, and she was struggling not to cry, not to question why this was happening. She was struggling not to think of Spock, of Kirk and McCoy.

She must have fallen asleep...or perhaps she passed out. When she looked up, it was dark outside and she was alone. The skin on her back was stiff, and when she tried to move she cried out in pain. It felt like someone was pressing red-hot rods against her back.

Her shoulders ached, so she put pressure on her feet to relieve them. She then buried her face in her arm and squeezed her eyes shut. Spock...she kept picturing his face, the sound of his voice as he called out to her. What had become of him? Would she ever know? Was she going to be tortured to death?

She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice the woman that entered the hut until a cold, wet rag was pressed against her face. She started and drew back, her eyes wide as she made a small sound of surprise.

"What the-" she began, but felt two soft fingers against her lips. The woman shook her head, and jerked her head toward the entrance to the hut. Nyota nodded to show that she understood. The woman was not supposed to be here.

The woman was dark-skinned, like the men, her thick black hair pulled back with a band. Her yellow eyes were almost cat-like as they surveyed Nyota, and she cocked her head slightly to the side before moving behind her and pressing the wet rag against the inflamed skin of her back. It felt so nice, so soothing...

"Thank you." Nyota said as the woman applied the rag to each section of her back. She knew she didn't understand the words, but it didn't matter. She was overflowing with gratitude and knew she could never repay her for her kindness.

Much too soon, the woman stopped her ministrations and returned to face Nyota. She turned her back to her, and pulled the top of her dress down far enough to show scars, which were startlingly pink against her dark skin. Nyota gasped as she realized what exactly was happening...this was some sort of rite of passage, or perhaps something that was done to all prisoners to break their will. This woman had once suffered as much as she.

She turned back to Nyota and gave her a sympathetic look. She whispered words that Nyota did not understand, and then bent down and picked up a small cup of water that she had set down when she first got there. She lifted it to Nyota's mouth, and as the cold water touched her parched lips she realized just how thirsty she was. She gulped it down eagerly, until the wooden cup was empty.

The woman drew the cup away, and proceeded to speak many lines of the language Nyota did not know, which was starting to frustrate her. She then turned and hurried out of the hut, leaving Nyota alone again. Alone, to listen to the silence of the dark.

_________________________________________________________

An hour later, the leader returned with his companion. By then, Nyota had regained some strength. She straightened as they entered the hut. The smaller man was carrying something...a long, thin rope. Nyota made the quietest of groans...a whip would break her skin, make her bleed.

The leader spoke in his language once more, and in reply Nyota spat in his face. She didn't know what he had said, and she didn't care. All she knew was that she was tired, and in pain, and she wanted to die already and get it over with.

The leader grew angry, and commanded his servant again. The smaller man again went behind her, and soon she felt the whip against her back. She had grown so accustomed to pain in the last hours that she hardly even flinched as the fresh burning started. She did not cry out, even when she felt blood dripping down her back and wetting the dirt around her feet. She did not care any more.

When they had left again, Nyota slumped once more. She stared down at her feet, feeling herself give up. Spock...Spock...my k'diwa...I need you...I need your strength. She thought. Spock...what would he think of her, giving up like this?

She found herself again staring at the bonds around her ankles. They weren't as tight as those around her wrists...

With renewed determination, she began to work, picturing Spock's face, imagining that his voice was whispering encouragement in her ear, that his warm fingers were brushing against her temple...maybe, just maybe, he was still alive. And if he was, she couldn't stay here, and she couldn't allow herself to die.