Chapter Text
Part One (Cont'd)
The lights were also dimmed in the dining area as Jirel and Denella sat facing each other, freshly replicated cups of raktajino in front of them. Denella idly toyed with the type-2 phaser, working on reconfiguring the power cells in an effort to boost the ancient weapon’s efficiency.
For his part, Jirel just sat and listened, trying to take in what she was saying.
“We were both taken at the same time, when the Syndicate came to Orpheus IV. We were transported together, we were…trained together. And then we were sold off to different ends of Syndicate space. I haven’t seen her since.”
She kept her focus on the phaser as she spoke, finding it easier to talk about these parts of her life through some level of detachment.
“Honestly, I had no idea if she was alive or not. There’s not exactly a ton of information coming out of Syndicate space. But I kept monitoring subspace for her name. Any sign she was out there. I’m not even sure what I was hoping for, but I guess bringing down the entire Syndicate seemed like a pretty impossible job, so I focused on something…achievable.”
She finished recalibrating the phaser’s power transfer systems and began to slip the power cells back into the sleek black casing of the weapon.
“And I finally got something. An unencrypted message sent by a Ferengi casino boss to one of his contacts, bragging about his impending purchase for one of his establishments. He was talking about Sarina.”
“Which establishment?”
“The message didn’t say. But she’ll be in the open when the purchase happens, wherever it happens. On a ship. No planetary dampening fields or anything. This is the chance I was looking for.”
“Ok then,” Jirel nodded, setting his raktajino to one side, “I’ll get Sunek to alter our course, and we’ll—”
“No,” she said firmly, “I can’t put you all in danger like that. Wherever the transaction is taking place, it’ll be deep inside Syndicate territory. I’m going by myself.”
“Come on, Denella. You can’t be serious.”
The Trill stared across the divide of the table at the Orion woman. She certainly looked serious.
“So, what?” he continued, “You’re just gonna jump out the airlock and float on over there?”
She finished placing the power cells back inside the phaser and began to clip the outer casing back into place, checking the chronometer on her wrist before offering her explanation.
“In about twenty minutes, the Bounty’ll pass within transporter range of a Yridian freighter heading in the right general direction. I’m going to beam myself over there and…negotiate transport to Syndicate territory.”
Jirel stared at her in disbelief, wondering if she had actually gone crazy. Even the airlock plan seemed more sound.
“You’re going to transport yourself between two ships? At warp? Travelling in opposite directions? On our piece of junk transporter? Holy crap, Denella, I barely trust that thing to get me the right side of a planet’s atmosphere when we’re in orbit!”
She shrugged impassively as she finished reassembling the phaser. “Provided I match the vector dynamics of the other ship and compensate for the conflicting warp field parameters, it should be—”
“Easier than just asking for our help?” Jirel interrupted her, still incredulous at the audacity of her plan.
She ran a quick self-diagnostic on the phaser, confirming that the weapon’s efficiency was now back up to 79% of its initial specification. Not bad for a device pushing 120 years old.
“It’s far too dangerous for me to risk all of you.”
“Hey, nothing’s too dangerous for—”
“Rilen Dar,” she stated flatly.
Although her attention was still on the phaser, she could sense that the name had been enough to unnerve her friend, regardless of his usual levels of bravado.
“That’s who’s overseeing the deal,” she continued, “The most prolific trafficker in the whole Syndicate. I guess it makes sense that he’s ended up with Sarina again at some point. And if he was to get his hands on you, he’d—”
“We’ve dealt with worse people than him.”
“No. You haven’t.”
Her pointed words hung in the air. Jirel had never probed too deeply into what she had gone through before she had arrived on the Bounty, but everyone had heard plenty of horror stories of what life was like deep inside the depths of the Syndicate’s black market.
Still, he wasn’t ready to let her go off without them.
“And what about you, hmm? What happens if you get caught by him again?”
For the first time since they had sat down, she looked up from the phaser and stared into Jirel’s eyes, a steely glint in her eyes.
“I won’t get caught. Or, at least, I won’t let myself get caught.”
Jirel glanced at the weapon she was still toying with and caught the implication in her words. He didn’t care for it very much.
She stole another glance at the chronometer. She knew she had no more time for talking. “Please, Jirel,” she persisted, “Don’t follow me.”
Jirel looked confused. “What the hell is that supposed to—?”
He didn’t get any further through his sentence. A single blast from the newly reconfigured phaser on the lowest stun setting was enough to silence him.
The unconscious Trill slumped onto the table.
* * * * *
Her fingers danced over the transporter controls at the speed of light.
Jirel hadn’t been exaggerating about the difficulty involved in what she was trying to do, transporting between ships at warp. But he had underestimated her determination to figure out how to do it.
She had quickly found the Yridian freighter on long-range sensors, exactly where it was supposed to be, and was now making the finishing touches to calibrating the transporter for the point at which the two ships reached an optimum distance apart.
As she worked, she tried to ignore the nagging concerns she had about the possible issue with what she was doing. Everything relied on the Yridian ship maintaining a constant heading and speed. If whoever was at the helm suddenly decided to speed up, or drop out of warp, or deviate from their current course even a fraction, she was going to end up beaming herself into deep space.
The calibration completed, she grabbed the rucksack at her feet and slung it over her back, before pacing over and standing on the transporter pad, exhaling deeply.
She cast one final look around the Bounty’s poky transporter room. The same one she’d seen when she had first arrived onboard all those years ago.
Absently, as she felt the automated transporter process beginning, she wondered whether she would ever see it again.
* * * * *
She didn’t end up in deep space. She ended up exactly where she had wanted to be.
And while she wasn’t a telepath, she could have easily predicted the first three expressions she saw on the Yridian man’s face as she materialised inside the freighter’s cramped engineering deck. The face, covered with wrinkled skin with large earlobes branching out from each side, cycled through the expressions very quickly.
The first expression was one of shock. Which was understandable, given that the last thing he would have been expecting during his duty shift inside the engineering deck of a nondescript freighter was an unauthorised incoming transport.
The second expression was one of lust, as it dawned on the haggard and grubby engineer that an Orion woman had literally appeared out of thin air in front of him. Just like in so many of his dirtier fantasies.
And the third expression was one of terror, as it dawned on him that the mysterious newcomer had a phaser in her hand, levelled at him.
“Right then,” said Denella, “Take me to your leader.”
End of Part One