Chapter Text
Part Three (Cont’d)
“Huh,” Sunek muttered, “You really weren’t kidding about this thing, were you?”
They had found the latest set of remains right next to the shuttlebay doors. What was left wasn’t easily identifiable, but they seemed to be those of a Flaxian female.
Next to the Vulcan, Klath regarded the bloody vista and impassively grunted. “We are dealing with a beast,” he said simply, looking back up as his eyes flitted around their immediate surroundings.
While Sunek and Klath got some first-hand experience of the sort of scene that the others had become grimly used to, Jirel and Kataya were focused on the shuttlebay doors themselves, the corridor illuminated by their twin focused phaser beams as they cut through the metal.
As soon as they had reached the shuttlebay, Kataya had found that the manual release had failed in some way, and so they had instantly resorted to more brute force means to get through.
“How come the crew of this thing didn’t try this?” Jirel asked as he completed the vertical cut on his side and turned the beam to work towards connecting with Kataya’s own path.
“This was a science transport,” Kataya grunted, “No real weapons. Nearest laser cutter would have been back in engineering.”
The Flaxian’s expression slipped slightly as he thought about the helplessness of the situation they would have been in. But before he could dwell on it too much, he brought his beam into contact with Jirel’s and they completed their cutting work. With one deft kick, a section of the metal gave way and allowed them through to the bay itself.
Once inside, the four figures shone their torches around. And Jirel felt a palpable sense of relief when he saw the row of half a dozen stocky shuttles, all waiting patiently to lift off.
“The area seems secure,” Klath noted with a grunt.
“Right,” Kataya added, the Flaxian having recovered a modicum of his earlier confidence as their plan unfolded, “We’ll use the shuttle’s phasers to break through the outer doors, then get free of the derelict and send a rescue signal back to Reja Gar. Let’s get moving.”
“That is something I am totally onboard with,” Sunek replied, as he scampered over to the nearest shuttle as fast as his suit would allow and disappeared inside.
Seconds later, as the others approached, the Vulcan poked his head back out of the doorway of the support craft.
“Um, guys? This one’s dead as a Kaelon old folks’ home.”
“What?” Kataya snapped back.
“Yep. Power cells have been ripped right out.”
The Vulcan exited the shuttle and bounded over to the next one, even as Jirel felt a fresh sinking feeling inside.
It didn’t take long for Sunek to call out again. “Entire console’s fritzed on this one,” he said, “Couldn’t fly it even if we wanted to. Plus, the power cells look like they’re totally drained. Anyone else seeing a pattern here?”
As Klath kept his weapon trained on their improvised entry point to the bay, Jirel and Kataya joined the Vulcan in checking over the remaining shuttlecraft. It didn’t take long for them to find that the pattern extended across the whole fleet.
“Goddamn it!” Jirel exclaimed in frustration, kicking the final shuttle with his heavy boot for good measure.
“Every one of them?” Klath called back, not taking his eyes off the entrance.
“Every one,” the Trill sighed, “Every goddamn shuttle’s been tampered with somehow. None of them are good for flight!”
“Interesting,” the Klingon muttered.
“Oh, right,” Sunek scoffed as his frustrations boiled over, “Hear that, everyone? Professor Klath over here thinks that’s ‘interesting’. Yeah, how interesting it is that our only escape route is completely screwed! And how interesting that we are - and I hate to repeat myself here - entirely boned!”
The Klingon ignored the Vulcan’s latest panicked rant, and glanced over at Jirel, gesturing to the ruined shuttles. “This is not the work of a beast,” he pointed out, “But an intelligence.”
Jirel considered this for a moment. “Not sure that makes the situation any better, to be honest.”
“No,” Klath conceded, “But it does change the rules of combat. This is not a battle of brute strength, but of skill, and tactics.”
“And brute strength?” Jirel offered, gesturing grimly back to the remains out in the corridor.
Klath acknowledged that point with a slight nod, then immediately returned to scouring the entrance to the bay for warning signs. Still ready for the battle.
Feeling distinctly less ready for the battle, Jirel turned back to the others. “Any chance we can fix up one of these things?” he asked, gesturing to the ruined shuttles.
“There may be enough working components here to repair one of them,” Kataya muttered, “But we’d need to fetch some additional parts from the stores. And it’ll take time to recharge the power cells using the ship’s final reserves.”
“Which all sounds like time that we don’t have,” the Trill grimaced.
“Hey,” Sunek chimed in, deepening Jirel’s grimace, “I’ve got an idea—”
“Sunek, I swear if this is anything other than a genuinely constructive plan, I’m gonna test the stun setting of this rifle on the back of your head.”
The Vulcan scrunched up his face inside his helmet, mildly affronted at the suggestion that he would be anything other than helpful and productive given the circumstances.
“Engineering,” he offered in response, “I don’t like to say it, but we’ve gotta head right the way down there.”
“But the shuttles—” Turanya began.
“Are gonna take too long to repair. We can’t escape, so we’re gonna need to get enough power back into this crate to send a long-range distress call. Doesn’t matter who to. Anyone passing by with a transporter can get us out of here.”
Jirel glanced over at Kataya, who offered a reluctant nod.
“Ok,” the Trill affirmed, “I guess that’s our new plan.”
The four figures started back towards the improvised door they had carved out for themselves, Klath leading them with his rifle still raised.
“And do not forget,” the Klingon offered over the comms link, “We are still being hunted.”
Sunek had lost count of the number of shivers that had passed down his spine in the last few hours, but he raised his own weapon even as he muttered back at his colleague.
“You’re a barrel of laughs right now, you know that?”
* * * * *
She watched them moving once again, each of them still oblivious to her presence.
There was a fresh sense of pride inside her for the work she had done on the smaller vehicles, the ones that she had discovered shortly after she had dealt with the last of those that had hurt her. Before these new people had arrived.
Once again, she had been operating more on some form of preternatural instinct. Something in her mind telling her exactly what needed to be done, even if she didn’t quite understand why she was doing it. But once again, it worked.
Now, the new people were heading elsewhere. And she was following.
As she had been watching them on their journeys around the ship, she found them more and more curious to observe. She even found herself trying to figure out who they were and where they had come from.
But she didn’t need to figure out what they were here to do.
She knew they were here to hurt her. They were just like the others.
And so, while she found them curious, she also knew that there was only one thing to be done with them. The same as all the others.
She crept onwards. And prepared to strike.