Chapter Text
Part Three (Cont'd)
“There’s two of them.”
“One step to the left, now. And no, there’s three.”
Jirel and Natasha stepped onto a dull grey square on the floor, off to the left of the one that they’d been standing on before.
The squares were merely a small part of an elaborate chequerboard layout across the entire room in front of them, the one that they had arrived in after retracing their steps and taking the right-hand fork in the crossroads they had come across.
Seconds after they stepped onto the new square on the floor, the one that they had previously been standing on was struck by a short but deadly burst of bright green energy, similar to the one that had nearly vaporised Jirel earlier. The energy discharge, like the others that had struck the previous squares they had stepped on, came from somewhere high above their heads. This cavern, like the one with the invisible floor, was large enough that the ceiling was invisible in the darkness.
The first time they had nearly been struck by one of the energy bolts had terrified both of them. But now that Natasha had figured out the path to follow from the tricorder scans, they were becoming little more than a passing annoyance to the duo’s progress.
“Two,” Jirel sighed, waiting for the next instruction, “We saw four in the clearing, and we met two of them back at the entrance, so there’s two Jem’Hadar left in here somewhere.”
Natasha concentrated on the readouts from the tricorder, looking for the signs from above as to when the next energy discharge was coming.
“Next two squares, straight forward, now,” she pointed, “And, for the last time, no. There were five of them in the clearing. How can you not remember?”
“How can you not remember that there were four of them?”
They arrived on their target square still bickering, as another bolt of green energy flared out behind them.
So far, they had made it roughly two thirds of the way across their latest challenge. It was slow going, but it would have been a lot worse had Natasha’s Starfleet training not caused her to insist on scanning the room first before they had walked in. Without further study, she couldn’t tell whether this was another booby trap, or merely some sort of security measure left behind by the Soraxx, but her scans revealed that there was only one correct path across the squares. Hit the wrong one, an energy discharge activated immediately. Equally, just for good measure, stay too long on an individual square, and an identical energy bolt would activate.
Only though scanning ahead just before each of those scheduled discharges was she able to detect the slight field variance that belied the correct next step.
She surmised that it was possibly some sort of elaborate password system for anyone wanting to access the rest of the structure, designed for those crossing it to input a set code in a certain space of time in order to pass. A code that she was glad she had taken the time to work out how to crack.
Although, given the ongoing argument they were in the middle of, part of her was starting to wish that she’d just let her Trill companion charge in.
“One left, one forward, now,” she reported as Jirel started moving, “And I don’t know how else to explain it to you, but trust me, if we run into them, it’s gonna be three-on-two.”
“It’ll be two-on-two,” Jirel persisted, riling her further, “Plus, if we do run into them, we won’t have weapons, remember?”
“That’ll be the least of your problems given that you can’t even count them properly,” she shot back, before quickly pointing ahead, “Two right, one forwards.”
Jirel complied, but his body language suggested that their latest argument was far from over. “And to think I thought going on a treasure hunt with you would be fun. How wrong I was.”
Another burst of energy landed behind them. She gestured again, hurriedly. “Two forward, now. And clearly being wrong is something you like to make a habit of.”
They reached the short-term respite of the next square, now within touching distance of the safety of the other side.
“You know, I am so looking forward to dropping you off with Admiral Jenner.”
“Psh,” she scoffed, “Didn’t seem to think that last night. Or this morning.”
He turned around and shot her a particularly icy look. She decided not to push that particular button any more and focused back on the tricorder.
“Sorry,” she muttered, “Let’s just—”
She stared at the tricorder in shock, her eyes widening in fear. The screen was completely blank.
“Let’s just what?” Jirel pressed, “Come on, where next?”
She gave the device a smack with her palm. Then another one. Then, just for good measure, she shook it with frustrated desperation.
“Stupid piece of—!”
“Hey!” Jirel yelled, grabbing it from her, “Don’t do that, that’s my best tricorder!”
“It’s broken, Jirel!” she shot back, gesturing at the dead screen, “Out of power!”
Jirel did a full double take at his best tricorder. After a brief pause, he shook it with twice the violence that Natasha had.
“Stupid piece of—!”
He was interrupted by an energy burst flaring on the square they had just vacated. They looked at each other, then looked up above their heads.
“Ok, we’re just gonna have to make a run for it,” Jirel said, turning back to the squares.
“If we do that, and we step on the wrong square, we get fried,” Natasha reminded him.
They looked at the remaining four rows of squares, identical save for their slight chequerboard hues. Not a single identifying mark or clue as to which path was the right one to choose.
“Ok, so we hopscotch it,” Jirel shrugged, “One square to the next, four hops, and we’re there.”
The pair of them braced themselves, preparing to make their move. Natasha’s arm shot out to stop Jirel before he could take a step.
“But…I don’t wanna be morbid here,” she babbled, filled with nervous energy, “But is it best we go the same way, the same squares, or should we go different ways?”
Jirel stared back at her in confusion.
“Cos, I mean, if we go the same way, and we get it wrong, we both die, right?” she continued.
“Right,” he nodded.
“Ok, so if we go different ways, we double our chances of one of us getting it right, right?”
“Right.”
“But then, by definition, that means one of us will definitely get it wrong. So—Oh crap, is one of us definitely dying better than both of us maybe dying? Are we being Kobayashi Maru-ed? I hate being Kobayashi Maru-ed—!”
As Natasha’s level of panic threatened to rise even higher, Jirel stepped up to her and grabbed her hand, rediscovering his bravado and fixing her with the most heroic gaze that he could muster. The one he saved for really dire emergencies.
“Hey, Natasha Kinsen, do you trust me?”
Natasha looked back at him, still panicking.
“No,” she replied with complete honesty, “Not even a little bit.”
Jirel’s heroic air slipped a tad. “I—Really? I mean, after all we’ve—?”
“I met you yesterday!” she said with exasperation, “I have no idea who you really are! So, I’m sorry, but no, I really don’t—”
“Fine, whatever, screw it.”
He jumped forwards onto one of the adjacent squares, pulling Natasha with him before she had a chance to realise what was happening. Just as they left the previous square, it erupted in a burst of energy. But the one they landed on remained mercifully unscorched. For the moment.
“Jirel, what the hell are you—?”
“Ok, so now you pick one,” he said urgently, gesturing to the next row of squares, “Don’t think about it, cos there’s nothing to think about. We start trying to think about it, we’ll never move. Just trust your instincts, and pick one.”
“This is stupid!” Natasha said with a sigh.
“Completely agree,” Jirel replied, “And if you’ve got a better idea in that big old Starfleet brain of yours, then I wanna hear it. Otherwise, let’s jump!”
She sighed again, realising that he was probably right. She grabbed his hand and stared down at the next row of squares, desperately trying to clear her mind of any attempt to rationalise what she was about to do. Square to the right, she thought. And she jumped, pulling Jirel with her.
As she did so, she closed her eyes involuntarily, expecting the immediate hit of the energy bolt. But nothing happened. She opened her eyes and looked around, failing to suppress an involuntary squeal of joy.
“Oh my god, it actually worked!” she squeaked in delight, clapping her hands for good measure and gesturing to Jirel, “Ok, your turn, come on!”
Jirel looked down at the squares, then looked up at the safety that lay two rows away. “Seriously? You’re really gonna go with my stupid plan to get us three in a row? I thought you didn’t trust me? Not even a little bit?”
“Well, I—I mean,” Natasha managed, confused at this sudden turn, “It’s like you said, we don’t have another option!”
“We do now,” Jirel nodded at the remaining two rows, “I reckon we can make that.”
“What do you—?”
He quickly positioned himself at the back of the square they were on, maximising his run up, then bolted forwards, jumping across the final two rows and landing in a heap on the other side.
“Perfect, see?” he grinned as he picked himself up and dusted himself off, “Come on, doc. Just make the jump from there.”
She grimaced and stepped to the back of the square, trying to put memories of her disqualification in the long jump during athletics trials back at the Academy out of her mind.
“Come on,” Jirel urged, holding his arms out to catch her, “Quickly!”
The square they had previously been standing on erupted in a burst of energy. Natasha sighed, closed her eyes, tried to control her heart rate. And went for it.
She opened her eyes just as she pushed off from the very edge of the square, leaping up with all her strength. For a moment, she felt sure that she wasn’t going to make it, that she was going to land right in the middle of the final row of squares. But, by inches, she cleared it, and landed in the waiting arms of Jirel with enough force to push him backwards to the floor.
For a few seconds, they awkwardly lay on top of each other in a heap, both panting deeply from their exertions.
“Nice jump,” Jirel said eventually with a grin.
Natasha lifted herself up and fixed him with an unimpressed look. “Seriously, it was a one time thing.”
Jirel looked confused for a moment, then realised what she was referring to. “Oh, no. That’s just the tricorder.”
She looked down to tricorder on his belt and sighed, then clambered off him. They both got back to their feet and looked down the new passage that now stood in front of them.
“We’ve got to be nearly there,” she offered, “Regardless of how well the Soraxx wanted to guard their treasure.”
“We’re still looking for the exit, right?” Jirel replied, causing her to flinch slightly.
Instead of responding, she shone her flashlight down the corridor. Like the previous ones, it was overgrown with plant life, but this one seemed to be made of rusted metal.
“Well, wherever we’re going,” Jirel continued, taking a step forward, “There’d better not be any more—”
He paused as a whirring sound filled the passageway. Instinctively, he checked the floor under his feet. “I swear, I didn’t press anything that time.”
The whirring sound grew louder. They glanced at each other, bracing themselves for whatever was about to happen. Suddenly, they felt the entire floor move, tilting them downwards. They didn’t even have time to grab anything, or to even consider running. They lost their footing immediately.
All they had time to do was scream, as they slid down, into the darkness.
* * * * *
The slide deposited them in an ungainly heap at the bottom. Coughing from the dust they had kicked up on their impromptu journey, they slowly untangled themselves and stood up.
“I am really starting to hate this place,” Jirel spluttered, wincing and holding his back in pain at the site of his latest injury.
Natasha shone her flashlight around their new surroundings. Wherever they were, it was a much larger room than the others that they had been through, on a scale more like an amphitheatre than anything else, with rising stone steps all around the outside and a central raised stage area, a square section of much lighter stonework. Again, she noted that more runes and symbols adorned the sides of the stage, and a set of steps ran from the ground up to the top.
Like the original cylindrical area they had first dropped into, she also saw that the central area was untouched by the dirt and vines they had seen elsewhere. It was astonishingly well preserved, almost too clean.
“Incredible,” she muttered, causing Jirel to give up on dusting himself off and look around himself.
“What’s this?” he said, appearing less impressed than she was, “Another trap?”
“I have no idea,” she admitted, taking in the full extent of the huge structure, “But it looks like we’ve reached the centre.”
“The centre of what?”
“Not sure,” she admitted, “Maybe if we had a functioning tricorder, I could—”
“Hey, don’t blame any of this on my tricorder, ok?” he snapped back, slightly absurdly, “Now let’s just—”
He took a single step forward. They both heard the clicking sound that followed. Jirel sighed deeply and looked down, seeing another familiar pressure pad glowing red underneath his right boot.
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed in defeated frustration.
They stood their ground together, waiting for the next challenge, or puzzle, or deadly energy discharge to confront them.
But none of that happened. Instead, the vast expanse in front of them was suddenly bathed in light, bright enough for them to have to shield their eyes from the sudden change in conditions. Slowly, the light gradually focused down onto the raised stage itself, out of which now rose a stocky metal podium.
On top of which stood an enormous deep red crystalline sphere, which appeared to be glowing with an energy all of its own.
“Oh my god,” Natasha whispered.
“Holy crap,” Jirel added simply, “Is that—?”
His view of the podium, and the treasure on top of it, was suddenly obscured. Firstly by a bulky plasma rifle, and then by an even bulkier torso. The three Jem’Hadar positioned themselves in front of them, their leader smiling darkly.
“The Jewel of Soraxx?” First Clora’gerax said, “I believe it is. And we shall be taking it.”
Jirel looked over at Natasha, seeing the fear in her eyes. He managed a slight shrug.
“If it’s any consolation,” he offered weakly, “You were right, there’s three of them.”
End of Part Three