Chapter Text
Part Three
Two buildings down from the Ktarian Moonrise was an unassuming establishment that was currently being run as a kitsch laser nail salon, which itself was a front for an elaborate latinum laundering scheme, which itself was connected to a small-scale drug dealing network that spanned the entire colony.
But none of the four members of the Varris IV Security Division’s 7-A Heavy Armed Unit, in place on the rooftop of the building, had any idea of the complex, multi-faceted scheme underneath them. Instead, they simply crouched behind their phaser rifles, focused on the rain-soaked alleyway.
On the end of the line of four, Deputy Constable Regor Lok was also focused on controlling the shivering that was threatening to consume his body.
The cause of the shivers were a combination of several things.
He was currently lying in a cold puddle of accumulated rainwater, which had soaked right into the thick layers of his uniform. That was certainly a contributing factor.
He had also been working since sunrise, on a prolonged double shift that was clearly not ending anytime soon, and as such had lost count of the number of double raktajinos with foam and sugar he had replicated for himself since he had woken up. That definitely wasn’t helping.
But also, this was the first serious situation that Deputy Constable Regor Lok had found himself in since he had passed his advanced marksmanship course and joined the 7-A Heavy Armed Unit. And the pressure was starting to get to him.
Making sure not to shake his phaser rifle enough for his colleagues to notice, he took one hand off his weapon and wiped the rain from his eyes, blinking a few times to re-focus on their target.
The most recent orders they had received were to take up position and hold. Which was exactly what they had done.
Since then, there had only been radio silence over their intercoms.
Part of him wanted to call in, to request confirmation on their next move. But he had been told that wasn’t the way to do things when you were part of a Heavy Armed Unit. You didn’t query orders, or ask questions. You kept your finger on the trigger, and kept your focus on your target.
Then, he saw the figures. Six of them, furtively creeping down the alleyway towards the waiting shuttle. He kept them in his sights, just as he had been ordered to do.
During a later debriefing back at headquarters, Deputy Constable Regor Lok would be asked several times why he fired the first shot.
He wouldn’t really have a straight answer.
It may have been the stress of the situation. It may have been that his view through the rain and the poor ambient lighting caused him to mistake a movement by one of the figures as an aggressive motion. It may have been the dozen or so double raktajinos with foam and sugar.
But whatever the specific cause was, what happened next was not up for any debate.
He felt his breathing become faster. He felt another shiver down his spine. He felt his shooting arm tense up on his rifle.
And he fired.
* * * * *
None of the six figures had time to figure out where the first shot had come from.
All they knew was that one second they were edging towards the waiting shuttle, the side door yawning open to receive them. And the next, they were in the middle of a battlefield.
All three Bounty crew members reacted according to their own instincts, with each hostage at the mercy of whomever had a grip on them.
“Crap!”
Sunek opted for self-preservation and immediately made a break for the shuttle itself, dragging Tegras along with him. He made it inside just as a trio of phaser blasts scorched into the thick hull of the craft.
“No!”
Denella’s own instincts resulted in an intricate piece of multi-tasking. She virtually threw Evina through the side door of the shuttle, to get her to safety, while at the same time spinning around with her disruptor raised, looking for Klath.
“Ragh!”
Because she knew that Klath’s own instincts would be to immediately turn and fight. Even though the odds were clearly hopelessly against him.
Which was very bad news for Palmor Fot.
The growling Klingon fired off a few disruptor blasts as he swung around, intuitively aiming in the rough direction of where the initial shots had come from, on top of one of the nearby rooftops. All the while, he kept a firm grip on Palmor’s arm with his other hand.
“Let go of me!” the Ktarian screamed over the melee, “You’re going to get us both killed!”
Klath ignored him, and continued to fire back. Which may have been what his instincts told him to do, but in the context of the current situation, it merely served to exacerbate the issue.
Because while the initial flurry of phaser fire had been precipitated by Deputy Constable Regor Lok’s moment of weakness, the fact that they were now under fire themselves caused the rest of the guards in position to return fire.
Fortunately for the prone Klath and Palmor, none of the guards had a particularly clear shot right now through the rain and the mass of rooftops and buildings. But still the phaser blasts continued.
“Klath!” Denella called out from behind, as she fired off a couple of covering blasts of her own, “Get back here!”
The Klingon took a step backwards, keeping his back to the shuttle and his eyes on the danger even as more shots peppered the alleyway.
“Hey, Denella!” Sunek called back from inside the shuttle, “Get in already!”
Denella gritted her teeth. She ignored the Vulcan’s call to get herself to safety, and prepared to dash the short distance over to where Klath was still fighting. She saw one phaser blast arc down and catch Palmor on the leg, causing the Ktarian to cry out in agony and collapse to the ground.
And then she heard a deeper, pained growl from Klath.
And she saw him fall.