Chapter Text
Part Four
“Damn, this guy’s good.”
The atmospheric shuttle banked sharply again, even as Tylor quietly offered his opinion regarding the skills of the pilot they were chasing.
Fortunately, he was sat next to the only pilot on all of Varris IV who was a match for whoever was behind the controls of their target. And Jalon was matching the precise skills of the guy in front, turn for turn.
She did have the advantage of the transponder, meaning that even if she missed a turn or two, she would be able to relocate their quarry with ease. But it hadn’t escaped Tylor’s attention that she hadn't needed to utilise that particular cheat code even once so far.
He gripped his armrest tightly as she expertly dipped the shuttle around the corner of the next skyscraper, before making a sharp downward plunge to continue their pursuit.
“They’ve descended to 100 feet,” she reported calmly as they levelled off, “We’re getting a little too low for my liking, Chief.”
“He’s just trying to spook us,” he replied as calmly as he could, even as the shuttles blasted down the former main street of the district close enough to the ground for them to kick up plumes of dirt and detritus in their wake.
In truth, it was starting to work.
He had already ordered the additional teams that had joined them for the chase to back off and remain tracking them above the roofline of the district, not wanting to endanger too many of his personnel now the chase was getting so dicey. And he was also increasingly worried about the hostages onboard the other shuttle, not to mention any pedestrians out this late, as their target got more and more daring.
He might be good, but Tylor knew that every pilot had their limits.
Even though he knew it was probably futile, he grabbed the comms unit and switched the transmission to the shuttle ahead of them. “Trelok, if you can hear me, what do you say we both find somewhere to park up and talk this over, hmm? Before someone gets hurt?”
Silence. Just as he had expected.
“They’re dropping again,” Jalon reported urgently, matching their target's moves, “Descending another twenty feet.”
Tylor grimaced, as both shuttles shimmied left and right at this new, even lower altitude. The sense of adventure inside him that had been rekindled by this sudden burst of seat-of-the-pants detective work was starting to be replaced by his more mature, restrictive side.
“I assume my deputy thinks that this is all going too far?” he offered to Jalon, casually trying to give himself an excuse to call it off.
The response that he got surprised him.
“Actually, I’m quite enjoying myself.”
She made her comment even as the two shuttles swept around another tight corner and dropped even closer to the ground below.
“And,” she continued, “Our target has slowed slightly. I believe I can get close enough for us to use the grappler. If I…use my instincts.”
Tylor suppressed a smile and nodded back at his usually reserved deputy instead. “Ok then, let’s do it.”
Jalon kept her focus forward and leaned on the thrusters a little more as the gap between the two shuttles further decreased. Alongside her, Tylor tapped at a bank of controls and brought the shuttle’s grappling arm online.
The grappler was a magnetised arm more often used to tow stricken vessels. But it could also be used to electronically assume control of a craft, which was of more use to them in this pursuit. A grappling manoeuvre at this sort of speed was a last resort. But it would be achievable.
“They are descending further,” Jalon reported as they coasted over a large landing pad filled with rows and rows of parked-up civilian shuttles lying dormant beneath them, “Now at 65 feet!”
“Grappler online,” Tylor reported back, “Preparing a shot.”
“Wait! Now ascending!”
Jalon jerked the controls to the left to follow the sudden pitch up from their target, and the two craft ascended again, now less than three shuttle lengths apart. Tylor licked his lips and gripped the grappler controls, preparing for his shot.
As they reached a safer altitude, their target levelled off, and for a moment appeared to have lost interest in shaking them off, flying along in a straight line instead.
“This is our chance, Chief,” Jalon affirmed.
Tylor saw the same thing. He fired.
The small flexible arm shot out from the nose section of their shuttle, and magnetically locked onto the target’s rear hull at the first attempt.
“Got him!” Jalon called out, the emotion in her voice even surprising herself.
“That we have,” Tylor nodded, more calmly, “I’m remotely powering down their systems.”
In an instant, the glow from the other shuttle’s thrusters decreased as the grappler connection brought the vessel to station-keeping. At the same time, Jalon slowed their own vessel to bring the pursuit to a halt.
As soon as the drama was over, Tylor’s jaw tightened. His instincts kicked in again. “That was too damn easy,” he muttered.
“Chief?”
“Scan for lifesigns, Deputy.”
Jalon jumped to action immediately, then gasped at what she saw. “There’s nobody onboard,” she reported, “The shuttle’s empty. Must’ve been…on autopilot. Chief, where the hell are they?”
Tylor didn’t reply immediately, as he ran over the last few minutes in his head. They’d missed something. Specifically, he’d missed something. That didn’t used to happen. But what? What had he missed?
Then, it hit him.
“Son of a gun…”
He tapped his controls quickly and barked out commands at the same time.
“I’m releasing the grappler. Get unit four to tow that shuttle back in. And then get us back to that landing pad we just passed.”
Jalon nodded and relayed the orders. Not questioning anything this time.
Moments later, they hovered in place just above the landing pad. Below them, through the driving rain, they saw the rows of tired, battered private shuttles, just as they had flown over before.
Except now, there was an empty spot. One of the shuttles was missing.
“My god,” Jalon whispered as she shook her head in realisation, “They…?”
Despite the situation, Tylor allowed himself a wry smile.
“Damn, this guy’s good…”
* * * * *
“Damn, I’m good.”
It hadn’t taken long to get to Palmor’s penthouse from the financial district. Which was a small mercy for five of the occupants of the dirty grey shuttle as it quietly sped above the main settlement of Varris IV. Because it limited the amount of time Sunek had to brag.
“Seriously,” he called back from the tattered pilot’s seat of their new ship, “I deserve, like, a medal or something for that one.”
Denella finished helping Evina as she bound up Klath’s leg as best she could in preparation for them to move out, and shared a tired look with the Klingon.
“Or some kind of award, maybe?” the Vulcan continued, “I mean, setting up the autopilot that quickly, short-range transporting all six of us into this thing, all without them noticing? We are talking ‘idea of the century’-level crap here…”
As Sunek’s vainglorious ramble continued, Evina looked over at the Klingon and the Orion.
“Does he ever stop talking?”
Denella stifled a grin. Klath grunted.
“Unfortunately not,” he offered back with genuine unhappiness.
“Like I said,” Denella called out, “It was a pretty good plan.”
If she hoped that would satisfy him, it didn’t even come close.
“A ‘pretty good plan’? That’s really all you’re gonna give me? This was an incredible plan! I mean, when some stuffy guy with a haircut and a Starfleet uniform pulls off something like that, they get seven years of holosuite programs made about them. And what do I get? ‘You know what, Trelok? That was a pretty good plan’…”
As Klath got back to his feet slightly uncertainly, Denella sighed and paced over to their pilot and his rapidly inflating ego. “Fine,” she offered, putting on her best impression of someone in genuine awe, “Oh exalted saviour, great masterful one, king of the Alpha Quadrant, could you help out us mere mortals and use that incredible genius of yours to…park us up?”
She gestured out of the cockpit window through the rain. Sunek shrugged. “No need to overdo it, you know.”
Palmor Fot’s penthouse had turned out to be hard to miss. It was located atop one of the tallest buildings in the downtown residential hub of the main settlement, in a grey metal building that towered over everything in the local vicinity. The penthouse itself seemed to take up the entire top two floors of the building, and also featured a flat rectangular landing pad which took up most of the top of the roof.
Even on somewhere as downtrodden and forgotten as Varris IV, it was still a residence that hinted at a level of luxury that could only be attained by a very rich individual. Which was a good sign as far as their efforts to finally locate some latinum for Mizar was concerned.
Sunek tapped the controls in front of him and gently guided them downwards. The dented shuttle landed on the rooftop pad with a slight thump.
Seconds later, the side door opened. Denella led Palmor down the steps and out into the persistent rain, keeping her disruptor pointed squarely at his back. “Come on,” she barked at him, “Time to show me the money.”
With an exaggerated sigh, the defeated Palmor led her across to the small building at the edge of the landing pad, which contained steps down to the penthouse itself. He walked with clear reluctance, but also with the slumped shoulders of a man with no more cards to play.
The rest of the shuttle’s occupants followed. Sunek kept his own weapon raised at Tegras. “Everyone remember where we parked!” he quipped as they descended the steps.
Finally, Klath emerged, guarding Evina and casting an unhappy look at the sky as he hobbled down the steps. “Does the rain ever stop?” he grumbled.
“Unfortunately not,” Evina replied with a smile.
The Klingon looked back at her, and his grimace subsided imperceptibly. Then, he gestured for her to proceed with a wave of his disruptor.
“Even after everything I just did for you,” the Ktarian woman sighed as they walked, “There’s still no chance of you putting that away?”
Klath considered the question as he hobbled across the slick landing pad surface.
It was true that Evina and Tegras were now entirely cooperating with them. Hostages or no hostages. Still, he also wasn’t about to let his guard down. Especially given his compromised physical condition. So he simply offered her a slow shrug of his shoulders.
“Unfortunately not.”