Chapter Text
Part Two (Cont’d)
“Something big?”
Klath ignored the question and busied himself with re-checking the power settings on his phaser rifle, even as Sunek nervously rambled on.
“That’s what he said? Something big?”
Their work on the bridge was now complete. The data transfer back to the Ret Kol was underway, and controllable from their end. Sunek had even found time to use some of the remaining battery power in the data systems to get another few bits up and running. The main viewscreen was now active, bathing the still-darkened bridge with a static-covered view of the Ret Kol where it hung off the port bow of the derelict.
But with only battery power to work with, there had been no real chance to get anything more significant up and running. Certainly not anything as powerful as internal sensors. Which meant that they only had Jirel’s unsettling and vague description to work with.
“I mean,” Sunek continued as he paced nervously around the bridge, swinging his phaser rifle around as he went, “What does that even mean? Something big? Like, how big? Your shoes are big.”
He gestured down dismissively at Klath’s significantly outsized spacesuit boots, even as the Klingon grunted back his straightforward response. “It means that we must be prepared to fight.”
“Oh no,” Sunek scoffed, wagging a gloved finger at the battle-ready Klingon, “Nuh-huh. It means that we need to entirely and immediately leave this stupid ship.”
He pointed at the benign image of the Ret Kol where it hung on the viewscreen as their sanctuary, to further underline his point.
“We need to get them to beam us back, and then we need to get the hell out of here. That’s what we need to do. So you can take that look off your face right now.”
Klath stared back at the fretting Vulcan through the visor of his helmet, doing his best to feign a look of ignorance. “What look?”
“You know exactly what look. The look you always get when crap like this happens. The one that says ‘I’m a big dumb Klingon warrior, so even though the only sensible thing to do is run away, I’m gonna go charging right towards all the scary things’. Honestly, it’s a miracle your people made it this far in life, it really is.”
“My people,” Klath retorted, a tad offended, “Have learned that there is little to be gained from running away from one’s problems.”
“Yeah, right. It’s just like that old joke, isn’t it? You hear the one about the Andorian diplomat who slayed an entire Klingon army? He advised them to make a tactical withdrawal.”
Klath grunted without a trace of amusement. He didn’t get it.
“And that’s exactly the sort of dumb thing you’re doing right now,” the Vulcan concluded with a final accusatory jab of his finger, “And don’t even think about pretending it isn’t, cos I’ve seen it all before. Remember Starbase 216?”
Klath looked up from his weapons check at this unhappy reminder. Some months ago, Sunek had been an unwilling witness to another of his more foolhardy moments, when Klath had been hunted by a vengeful Klingon called Kolar on a planetary Federation starbase that the Bounty had visited for repairs.
After Sunek had been kidnapped by his enemy, instead of seeking help, Klath had taken off into the wilderness by himself to challenge his rival. And he had not only ended up having to reveal the details of his discommendation to the talkative Vulcan, but had nearly ended up being killed.
Still, whatever regrets those memories dredged up inside of him, Klath remained a Klingon warrior at heart. And Klingons didn’t run.
So, instead of wasting time responding to Sunek’s comments, he merely shouldered his rifle and made for the access hatch that led back into the conduits of the derelict, his mind focused on the battle that was to come. A battle with something big.
“Ugh!” Sunek whined, “You’re really gonna do it, aren’t you. Well, that’s great. Just great. Cos that means that I’m gonna have to come and do the really stupid thing with you, doesn’t it?”
“I am more than happy to go alone.”
Sunek watched the Klingon stooping down towards the hatch and suppressed a sigh. It was true that he could call the Ret Kol and try to ask to be beamed out. That was definitely still an option that was available to him. But he also knew that he couldn’t let his friend face danger alone. No matter how much a significant part of his less brave side wanted to.
“Yeah, well,” he sighed again as he set off towards the hatch, “Tough.”
Just as Klath’s head entered the conduit, though, Sunek’s more cowardly side was granted a last second reprieve. Because suddenly their helmets were filled with an incoming transmission.
“Guys,” Jirel said, sounding more serious than either of his colleagues had ever heard him, “We’re leaving. Now.”
“Thank Surak for that!” Sunek sighed, throwing his hands up in satisfaction.
Klath, for his part, couldn’t help but look a little upset that he wasn’t going to get his fight. But he managed to keep that from his voice as he crawled back out of the conduit and responded. “Why?”
“I’ll tell you when we get back,” the Trill simply responded, “Prepare for beam-out.”
Sunek stood and waited for the transporter effect, and looked over at the Klingon.
“Look on the bright side,” he offered with a shrug, “Maybe they’ll let you keep the gun?”
* * * * *
She made her way through the ship, still keeping herself hidden.
In truth, she didn’t need to be quite so cautious right now. She was all alone for the time being. Still, her instincts told her to remain secluded. She didn’t think to question those instincts. Most of the time, that was how she operated. Her body and her subconscious reacting in ways that her conscious mind didn’t understand.
She had never been told about the concept of a survival instinct. But regardless of that, it was a potent force inside her.
As she silently moved, she allowed herself a moment of satisfaction, even of pride, in what she had been able to do. She wondered if her parents would be as proud to see what she had become, how much she had learned to do.
She liked to think that they would be. Wherever they were.
But part of her was also filled with self-doubt. Over whether she was really doing the right thing, and whether all of this was necessary.
And then she remembered the pain, and the torment that she had been put through. She recalled the way that she had been snatched away from her home. How scared she had been, and how disorientating it had all felt.
She thought about the tests they had run on her, the challenges they had forced her to complete, and the punishments that were handed out when she didn’t do as she was told.
And that was more than enough to convince her that what she was doing was necessary.
So she stealthily walked on in the shadows, and waited for the next part of the plan she only tangentially understood to be completed.
* * * * *
Down in the engineering deck, Lieutenant Kataya stood back up and tapped the comms unit on his wrist controls to signal their ship.
As he did that, Jirel kept his phaser rifle raised, scanning the expanse of the darkened engineering deck with his wide-beam torch. Looking for something big.
“Kataya to Ret Kol, requesting emergency beam-out.”
For a moment, there was no answer. Only an eerie silence. When the comms link did splutter into life, it did so with a burst of static which did little to ease either man’s concerns.
“Rondya here. Say again, salvage team?”
Kataya displayed no outward sign of concern or irritation at this response, but raised his own weapon defensively as he repeated himself. “I say again: This is Lieutenant Kataya, requesting emergency beam-out now.”
Another burst of static. Jirel felt the knot in his stomach tighten further.
“Message received,” Rondya eventually replied, “That won’t be possible at the moment. We’re having some power supply issues over here. Transporters are temporarily offline.”
Jirel instinctively turned back to Kataya, forgetting about the need to scan the room for the moment, though the Flaxian remained calm.
“What sort of power supply issues?”
“Our engineers are still trying to figure that out. There’s some sort of power drain affecting almost every system. Happened as soon as we beamed Captain Grinya back over to you.”
Now it was Kataya’s turn to offer a moment of silence as a response. The Flaxian’s mouth gaped open, but he struggled to find any words.
“Sorry,” Jirel offered instead, jumping in to fill the silence, “When you beamed who back over?”
“Captain Grinya. He beamed over here to check the data link, then returned to the derelict.”
Jirel licked his lips, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. His spots itched like crazy. “Wh—When was this?”
“A few minutes ago. Why?”
Jirel glanced at the gobsmacked Kataya, then looked down at the two mutilated corpses they had discovered as soon as they had got to the engineering deck. The reason they had called for the beam-out in the first place. The two victims were more readily identifiable than the other victims they had found, despite the severity of their injuries. One was Lieutenant Deroya.
And the other was Captain Grinya.
“That’s…not possible,” Jirel managed eventually.
On the other end of the comms link, he was hit by a fresh burst of static.
“Ret Kol?” he urged, “Come in, Ret Kol?”
* * * * *
Up on the bridge, Sunek and Klath had been following the back-and-forth over the comms link with growing concern.
“What the hell’s going on down there?” Sunek snapped, as he paced the room impatiently.
“I do not know,” Klath admitted, “But—”
He was silenced as the entire bridge was suddenly bathed in a bright light. Both Sunek and Klath followed the source of the light, turning as one back to the viewscreen at the front of the room.
Just in time to see the Flaxian cruiser Ret Kol being devoured by a fiery, all-consuming explosion.
End of Part Two