Chapter Text
Part Two
The six figures materialised inside a darkened corridor onboard the derelict vessel.
As soon as their patterns had finished reforming on the deck plates, Captain Grinya and his Flaxian lieutenants tapped the sides of their helmets to flick on the torchlights on top of the headgear and swung around to sweep down each direction of the corridor. At the same time, Grinya flicked on the comms link back to the Ret Kol with a tap of his suit’s wrist controls, while Deroya and Kataya tapped their own wrist controls to perform initial scans with the built-in tricorder.
All of their actions were performed with the practised speed of a group of people who had done this sort of thing dozens of times before.
“Grinya to Ret Kol.”
“Rondya here,” the gruff voice of his second in command came back.
“We’ve completed beam-in. Main power is definitely offline, no sign of any crew. Or any bodies. For now. Keep the channel clear for updates. Grinya out.”
While the Flaxians were following their usual procedures, the three Bounty crew members were working on keeping up, switching on their own helmet torchlights.
Jirel found himself suppressing a shiver that ran down his spine as he peered down the shadowy and uninviting corridor ahead of him, bathed only in thin torch beams.
“Lifesign readings are still unclear. But no contaminants detected,” Deroya reported over the separate suit-to-suit comms channel as she tapped her wrist controls.
“Well, that's something at least,” Sunek grunted, reaching to undo his helmet.
“No!” Grinya snapped at the Vulcan.
“Wh—? What the hell were you transporting in this thing? The Tarellian plague?”
Grinya ignored the latest round of sarcasm from Sunek and checked his own readouts, explaining his reasoning as he did so. “As the lieutenant said, scans are still muddled. It’s possible they’re missing something. Until we find the crew, or until we get main power back online and run a full internal sensor sweep, helmets stay on and suits stay sealed. This is not a debate.”
With that matter settled, the lead Flaxian turned to the rest of the group and began to bark out orders.
“Ok, people, this is the part where I tell you what you’re gonna do, and then you all go and do it, without screwing anything up. Everyone clear?”
Jirel braced himself for Sunek’s inevitable contribution to that question, but to his surprise, the Vulcan remained silent. He couldn’t help but absently wonder whether there was a fault with his comms unit.
“Myself and Lieutenant Deroya will head to main engineering, get main power back up,” Grinya continued, “The Klingon and the Vulcan will head up to the bridge and set up the data link back to the Ret Kol, so they can start downloading data recorders and mission logs. And Lieutenant Kataya, you take newbie here and begin a deck by deck sweep for crew and cargo. Tag everything of value for us to retrieve with the Ret Kol’s transporter, and get any survivors back to sickbay, stat.”
“Great,” Jirel muttered to himself, forgetting his own comms link for a second, “Splitting up. That always works.”
Grinya took a slow and deliberate step towards him and fixed the Trill with a glare. “You got a problem with my orders, feel free to sign up for the Flaxian Science Agency, work your way up the chain of command until you outrank me, and then tell me what to do. In the meantime, remember: I’m the leader of this operation. And you will do whatever the hell I tell you to do. I’ve not lost a member of a salvage team in fifteen years, and I’m not gonna start today.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he stared down at Jirel.
“Besides, you’d better do a good job, or that debt of yours with Commander Turanya’ll grow a little bigger.”
He didn’t bother to wait for a response, and instead turned on his heels and led Deroya away down the corridor. Once he was a safe distance away, Sunek took a moment to snap a very sharp, and very sarcastic salute in his direction. Despite their situation, Jirel failed to hide the smirk.
Lieutenant Kataya, meanwhile, didn’t seem to be in a smirking mood. “Ok, you all heard the Captain,” he barked over the short-range comms link in their helmets, jabbing a gloved finger in Jirel’s direction, “You’re with me. The two of you, get to the bridge and set up that transfer. And everyone keep an eye out for lifesigns.”
Like Grinya, he didn’t wait for any sort of affirmation either. He was used to people doing as they were told. Instead, he hoisted his phaser rifle, tapped a couple of commands into his wrist-mounted controls, and set off.
Jirel offered the scowling Klath and the distinctly nervous Sunek a shrug, then took off after the Flaxian before he disappeared from sight.
With only Klath left for company, Sunek made for a set of turbolift doors that were recessed in a nearby alcove. He paused in momentary confusion when they failed to open.
“What the hell?”
“Perhaps you missed the fact that main power was offline,” Klath grunted from behind him.
“Yeah, but then how are we supposed to—?”
Sunek paused mid-question as he turned to see Klath disappearing into an access conduit a little further down the corridor, to begin their slow and laborious journey up to the bridge.
The Vulcan sighed inside his helmet with enough intensity to temporarily fog the visor.
“I really hate salvage work…”
* * * * *
She watched them from a safe distance, keeping herself well concealed.
As soon as she had heard them arrive, she instinctively reacted and hid herself away. Just as she had learned to with the others.
She knew now that it was important to remain out of sight. Until the time was right.
Fortunately, it was easy enough for her to remain concealed, especially when she was so small. So she had calmly watched on as they had debated and gesticulated at each other before they eventually split up.
She hadn’t been able to hear what they were talking about, and struggled to discern much about the newcomers at all given how they were dressed in identical suits. She certainly couldn’t make out any details of their features through their helmets.
She had also never seen a Flaxian phaser rifle before, but a distant memory somewhere inside her instinctively made her feel wary about them. Especially when she saw the way they were being held by the newcomers.
And although she had remained concealed and undetected, their presence worried her. She hadn’t expected any more to show up.
She thought that she had done everything that she needed to do. But it appeared that her task was still not at an end.
Once again, she found herself wishing that she could just go home. She ached to be back where she had been before all this had started. Before she had started to kill. But all of that seemed so far away, like a distant and faded memory. And besides, she had no idea how she would even get there any more. Whatever she used to do, or used to be, this was what she was now.
So, instead of going home, she crept onwards after two of the newcomers. Keeping herself carefully hidden from view for the time being, and using her skills to ensure that they had no possible idea of what was silently stalking them.
She continued to observe them for now, but she knew that soon she would have to act.
Because she didn’t think she was going to like these people either.