Chapter Text
Part Two (Cont’d)
“What the hell do we do now?”
It wasn’t the first time that Denella had asked that particular question since the three Bounty crew members inside the Ktarian Moonrise had realised they were surrounded.
But it was the first time she had asked it since the gruff voice had come out of the comms unit built into the console behind the bar. Which was an unsettling new development in their escalating predicament.
“I say again,” the voice cracked over the comms link, “This is Security Chief Tylor Ral of the Varris IV Security Division. We have you surrounded. But nobody out here wants to get hurt tonight, and I’ll bet nobody in there does either. So I’d really appreciate it if we could talk this through.”
The Orion engineer glanced across the burnished metal bar area to where Klath and Sunek had joined her. For the time being, they had returned Palmor to the rest of the hostages on the other side of the room, and while they had left them alone to join Denella, both the Klingon and the Vulcan kept their disruptors raised and the majority of their focus on the Ktarians.
“Based on what I could see,” the Klingon reported, “There are approximately twenty guards setting up in front of our location. I would presume there to be a similar number at the rear of the building as well.”
“Great,” Sunek tutted with predictable fatalism, “So we’re screwed.”
“Perhaps not. With the right tactics, I believe we will be able to attempt a glorious—”
“Ok,” Denella sighed, stopping the Klingon with a raised hand, “We’re not attempting a glorious anything. I’m not gonna start shooting innocent security guards down here.”
“They will likely shoot us if we do not act first,” Klath countered with all seriousness, gesturing to the gaggle of fearful Ktarians on the other side of the bar, “We have taken several hostages.”
Denella fixed him with a withering look and shook her head. “I’d also very much like to get out of this without being shot, killed or arrested. If that’s not too much to ask.”
Klath considered these additional restrictions to his battle plan with a thoughtful expression, as the comms unit flared into life again.
“Come on now, folks. I’m sure we can work this all out, ok?”
“In which case,” Klath said, having completed his fresh considerations, “I believe that one of us should talk to him.”
Sunek’s face brightened up immediately as he reached out for the controls, preparing his most authentic Trelok voice to date. Before he could actually say anything, however, Klath shot out a burly hand and grabbed Sunek’s wiry arm, keeping his eyes on Denella.
“And I do not believe it should be the Vulcan.”
“Naw,” Sunek griped.
Denella sighed deeply as she saw the implication in the rarely-talkative Klingon’s expression. He had also clearly excluded himself from an active role in this particular plan as well. “Fine,” she grumbled.
She reluctantly tapped the controls in front of her and cleared her throat, mentally trying to work out the best way of approaching a hostage situation that she didn’t want to be involved in.
“Um, hi, Chief,” she began, “We’re, um, we can talk this out. I guess.”
There was a pause. She idly wondered whether or not she should have gone for a more assertive tone of voice.
“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” the voice of Chief Ral came back eventually, a trace of relief evident in the tone of the Ktarian, “Now, I’ve told you who I am, and you can call me Tylor. So, who exactly am I speaking with?”
“This is Denella,” said Denella.
On the other side of the bar, Sunek threw his hands up into the air and paced back over towards the hostages, waving his disruptor around in frustration. “Ugh! Come on, people! Cover names!”
Denella ignored the amateur dramatics of her colleague in favour of focusing on Chief Ral. She licked her lips and continued. “And I’m with you, Tylor. I don’t think anyone wants to get hurt today.”
“Glad to hear it,” the Ktarian replied, “So, now we’re on first name terms, how about we go one step further, hmm? How about you lower that transporter inhibitor and then I’ll beam myself in. Unarmed. We can talk face to face.”
Denella met Klath’s stern look and nodded grimly. They weren’t falling for that one.
“Sorry, can’t do that.”
A pause. Even if Tylor had been expecting that response to his somewhat transparent opening gambit, his next step wasn’t immediate.
“Fair enough,” he conceded eventually, “How about we try something different then. It’s pretty clear what I want out of this. I want those people in there with you to come out, safe and sound. So, how about you explain to me what you want out of all this.”
Now it was Denella’s turn to pause. Like it or not, she was definitely in the middle of a hostage negotiation.
The question was, how far could she push it.
* * * * *
On the other side of the room, nestled amongst the fearful hostages, Tegras shook his head.
“I don’t get it,” he muttered quietly to Evina where she sat to his right, “They don’t act like criminals at all…”
On his other side, Palmor mustered an audible tut, his self-confidence making a fleeting return now he had been thrown back in with the rest of them. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“No, he’s right,” Evina nodded, “There’s something strange about all this. And they haven’t been violent at all.”
“Pah!” Palmor hissed angrily, “Since they showed up, I’ve been threatened, manhandled, marched down to that basement on the end of a disruptor—”
“They haven’t been violent to anyone who hasn’t deserved it,” Tegras chipped in with a grin, earning a further annoyed tut from Palmor.
The older Ktarian kept his focus on their captors. The Orion and the Klingon remained next to the comms unit, engaged in barely audible negotiations, while the scruffy Vulcan was now pacing around the room, whistling to himself.
He couldn’t help but remain intrigued.
While Tegras kept his attention on the newcomers, Palmor’s focus had drifted over to the exit, having now seen that two of their captors were engaged with the comms unit, and the third appeared to be entirely distracted, having paused his whistling to investigate some dirt under one of his fingernails.
He didn’t waste time trying to coordinate any sort of escape plan with his fellow Ktarians. He was entirely operating in self-preservation mode, as was his way. Slowly, but surely, before any of the others could ask what he was doing, he silently stood up and took a tentative step towards safety.
“Oi.”
Palmor’s head jerked up in fright, as he saw that the previously distracted Vulcan now had his weapon trained squarely at him.
“Come on,” Sunek continued with a raised eyebrow, “How dumb do you think I am?”
He immediately held his free hand up to silence any response from his two colleagues, who had now looked up from the comms unit to see what the fuss was about.
“Don’t answer that for him.”
Palmor stared at the disruptor pointing at him, then gulped and sat back down, earning a satisfied nod from the tousle-haired Vulcan.
“There. That’s a good hostage.”
His rudimentary escape plan now thwarted, Palmor glanced back over at Tegras and Evina with a dark grimace. “Huh,” he muttered, “They seem to act like criminals to me. Believe me, I know enough of them.”
But Tegras ignored him, and kept his focus on their captors and their increasingly hard to read actions.
Still no nearer understanding them.
* * * * *
Over at the bar, negotiations had reached something of an impasse.
In truth, Denella knew it had been a bit of a long shot before she had even suggested it. Still, as a novice in the enterprise of hostage negotiations, she hadn’t seen much point in being anything other than completely open about what they were after.
“Well, I’m sorry, Denella,” Tylor’s voice came back, “I’m afraid the Varris IV Security Division doesn’t have quite that much latinum available to us.”
The Orion looked over at Klath, and Sunek behind him, and shrugged. “Worth a try. Anyone else got any bright ideas?”
Klath remained silent. Sunek, inevitably, didn’t.
“Hold up,” the Vulcan pointed out, “We don’t need latinum from them. We’ve already got the latinum from matey boy over there.”
He gestured over at the unhappy Palmor with a dismissive wave of his disruptor. Denella remained visibly unconvinced.
“Well, we don’t actually have that latinum, do we? That’s really the fundamental problem we’re dealing with right now.”
“Ok, whatever, but we know where it is. Or he knows where it is, at least. So that part’s all fine, right?”
“So, what?” Denella pressed, “You’re saying I should ask those nice people outside for a lift?”
“Sort of,” Sunek replied with an enigmatic grin.
This time, before Klath could stop him, the Vulcan stepped over and quickly jabbed his finger down on the comms unit.
“Attention, Varris IV security guy. You still there?”
“Still here,” Tylor’s response came, “And who might you be?”
“Trelok’s the name,” Sunek said with a beaming smile, even as Denella, Klath and several of the hostages themselves rolled their eyes, “I’m a gritty, hard-nosed vigilante from the—”
He paused under the weight of the scowls of his colleagues, and sighed.
“Ugh, fine. We can skip that. But just know that I have an awesome backstory. With fighting, and explosions, and girls, and everything. Ok?”
A long pause.
“…Ok.”
“You wanna get to your point?” Denella muttered at the Vulcan without a trace of humour.
“Yeah,” Sunek nodded, “So, listen, we’re willing to do a deal here.”
“I’m listening,” Tylor’s reply came.
“We’re willing to give up…almost all the hostages. Right here, right now.”
“Well,” the security chief said with palpable relief, “I’m glad to hear that, Trelok.”
The Vulcan winked at the confused Denella as he jabbed his finger down on the comms panel again to complete his attempt at negotiation.
“In exchange for a shuttle.”