Chapter Text
Part Three (Cont’d)
After what felt like a very long time indeed working on the bonds on her hands, Natasha had to admit that all she was doing was giving her a nasty rope burn.
She groaned in frustration and leaned back against the wooden pillar behind her.
“I do not think I can break the twine,” Sister Lyca offered from the next pillar along.
‘Yeah,” Natasha grimaced ruefully, looking around the empty interior of the Bastille, “I’ve kinda come to the same conclusion over here. Guess there’s no point screaming for help?”
“There will be guards outside,” Sister Lyca replied, “Some of the more loyal members of The Seer’s flock. Our voices will not travel beyond them.”
The Makalite woman paused and coughed hoarsely several times. Natasha’s medical ear didn’t like the rattling sound of the cough at all, and felt doubly frustrated that the cure for the Makalite’s disease was so simple and yet so far away.
“I feel,” Sister Lyca managed eventually, her voice sounding weaker all the time, “The Beast of the Great Hereafter may be approaching me. I can only pray that my song is enough to let me pass on through and join the rest of my ancestors.”
Natasha felt a fresh pang of emotion, for Sister Lyca’s plight, and for the reminder of the simple culture that had been so entirely torn asunder on this planet. “Sister Lyca, please trust me,” she said, “I promise I can cure your disease. The Beast of the Great Hereafter isn’t going to come for you today.”
She was interrupted by the sudden sound of two shrieked wails from outside the Bastille’s only entrance, followed by the unmistakable sound of a pitched scuffle. Moments later, the substantial metal door of the structure was literally ripped off from its hinges, causing both women to flinch against the sudden burst of sunlight that shone into the previously darkened room.
It didn’t take long for Natasha to make out the two familiar outlines silhouetted in the doorway.
“Doctor,” Klath grunted in satisfaction, “There you are.”
“We totally just beat those two guards up,” Sunek added from his side, “Well, Klath did a lot of the beating up. But, y’know, I supervised. Cos I’m kinda in charge of the whole operation—”
As Sunek embarked on his latest defence of his position in the Bounty’s pecking order, Klath sheathed his bat’leth, having used the blunt side to incapacitate the guards, and stepped over to untie Natasha’s bonds.
“Thanks for the rescue guys,” she smiled, “We need to—”
The entire Bastille suddenly reverberated with a new noise. An ear-splitting and plaintive wail, coming from Sister Lyca.
As Klath finished untying Natasha, she instinctively flinched at the sound of the shrieking Makalite, who was staring at Sunek with wide-eyed fear.
“Ugh,” Sunek grimaced, covering his sensitive ears, “They’ve all been doing that!”
“Be quiet!” Klath boomed.
Sister Lyca continued to wail for a moment, then paused and looked back at Natasha with a sad, but slightly accusing glare. “You said you would keep The Beast away, that he would not come today, but you were wrong. The Beast is here…and I am ready.”
She sank her head down to the ground in front of Sunek. Natasha’s mouth dropped open, as she realised what the Makalite seemed to be implying.
“Oh crap…”
“What?” Sunek managed, as he saw the Makalite bowing, “What the hell’s that supposed to—?”
“Please,” Sister Lyca said softly, keeping her head bowed, “I beg for passage to the Great Hereafter.”
Natasha grabbed Sunek’s arm and pulled him over to a corner of the Bastille, followed by an equally confused Klath. She turned to them and kept her voice deliberately low. “Ok, so, let’s not panic here, ok? But there’s a…fairly strong chance that Sister Lyca thinks Sunek is the guardian of the Makalite afterlife.”
Klath simply grunted at this statement, wondering if this was an opportune moment for another of his famous ‘interesting’s. Meanwhile, Sunek’s face widened into the widest grin in his repertoire.
“You mean, like…a god? Well, well, local kid makes good—”
“Not exactly,” Natasha countered, slamming the Vulcan’s entirely illogical ego into reverse before it had a chance to get going, “From what she’s told me, you’re more of a…guard dog.”
The grin immediately transferred from Sunek’s face to Klath’s. The Klingon was now legitimately finding the conversation interesting for the first time so far.
“You know,” Natasha offered as further explanation, “Kind of a great big hideous beast that protects the gates of the next realm.”
“A great big…hideous…beast?” Sunek repeated, emphasising his least favourite part.
Natasha shrugged apologetically, while Klath did his best to swallow the smirk on his face and offer his colleague a slow shrug of his shoulders.
“Perhaps,” he offered, “It is the ears.”
Sunek’s ego, which felt like it had been under sustained fire ever since they had arrived on the planet, with the emergency landing, then the pecking order and now this, decided on a swift counteroffensive.
“Wh—? But, what about him?” he said, gesturing to the Klingon.
Klath and Natasha looked back at him with visible confusion, but his ego persisted.
“I mean, if these stupid people are gonna start running around calling people hideous beasts, what about ScaryGuy McForehead over here? Hmm?”
Despite the situation, Natasha glanced over at Klath and shrugged. “I dunno,” she mused, “I’ve always thought Klath was very handsome.”
The Klingon took the compliment with an appreciative nod of his head. He’d always thought the same thing as well.
Sunek just stared at the pair of them with incredulity. “Ok, I see,” he sighed with a knowing shake of his head, “You’re both messing with me as well. Nice. Really, really nice. So, I’m gonna go over there, and—”
He took one step away from them, back towards Sister Lyca, before the panicked Makalite began to wail again, seeing the Beast of the Great Hereafter approaching once more.
“Ok,” Sunek corrected himself, “Not gonna go over there.”
As Sunek’s ego continued to simmer gently, Natasha turned back to Klath and gestured to the Makalite woman, who was still restrained around the other wooden pillar.
“Still, we can’t just leave her here. She’s dying.”
“What do you suggest?” Klath asked, as the wailing continued.
Natasha paused. There was a plan forming in her mind, but it wasn’t exactly one that was going to get Starfleet banging on her door begging for her to come back any time soon. Still, it wasn’t like they had many other options, from what she could see.
“I think,” she replied eventually, with a grimace, “We’re gonna need some help from The Beast.”
Sunek raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Klath looked a little confused.
All the while, Sister Lyca continued to wail.
* * * * *
Denella sighed in frustration and started on another lap of the Bounty’s empty cockpit.
It had been over an hour since she had beamed Sunek to the others, and she still hadn’t heard anything back from him since a rather curt message to confirm the beam-in had worked.
Meanwhile, she also hadn’t heard from Jirel since his earlier comment that confirmed he was on his way back, apparently with Martus Mazur for company. That comms link had closed unexpectedly, which the Orion was blaming that on the residual radiation.
So, she was left alone on the Bounty, unsure as to what was going on with any of the others.
She usually preferred to be in the thick of things, rather than being kept in the dark. And while she had at least had the chance to double check her repairs without Sunek’s distractions, that had only temporarily interrupted her worrying,
She considered trying the comms links again to the various communicators that were now out there, but instead she paused as she passed Sunek’s pilot console and made a few pre-flight checks. Not that Sunek couldn’t have handled them himself when he got back, but the growing unease she was feeling inside made her instinctively feel it might be in everyone’s best interests to prepare for a quick getaway.
Besides, she’d found that assuming the worst in any given situation was a fairly sensible position to take throughout her misadventures on the Bounty.
As she worked, she saw a blip show up on the external sensors. Two lifesigns making their way back up the ramp at the rear of the ship. A Trill and an El-Aurian.
She felt the knot in her stomach loosen slightly. At least someone was back onboard.
Within moments, she heard the sound of footsteps coming up the metal steps at the rear of the cockpit, and she turned to greet them.
“Finally. What the hell took you so long—?”
She stopped in her tracks, and the relieved smile slipped from her face.
At the top of the steps, she saw Jirel standing with Mazur alongside him, boasting a disarming smile on his features. And she also saw the disruptor pistol that was pointed squarely at the Trill’s side.
For his part, Jirel mustered an altogether more sheepish smile.
“Hi honey,” he offered, “I’m home.”
End of Part Three