As their visual scan of the apparently deserted SS Fantasy continued, Lirik suddenly realised he was paying more attention to the detail on the surface of the passenger section than to any clues that might indicate what happened to Christian and the other survivors. Having coasted over the top surface, the runabout passed to just ahead of it where Reb slowly dropped the Hudson down in front.
During the slow drop, Lirik and Struckchev had once more returned to the Hudson's aft section to watch the surface rise past them as they descended in front of each prow deck. Here, most windows had been sealed with emergency shutters, and it appeared a few decks even had their windows removed completely. Halfway down, a large central navigation dish was flanked by two smaller circular devices.
Lirik had no idea what they were, though Struckchev guessed they might be part of a different kind of deflector system than they were used to seeing. Stranger still, below the half way point they saw a series of phaser turrets and even two torpedo launch tubes; the technology involved was clearly not Federation, (turrets had been replaced by phaser arrays many decades ago). Like everything else on the surface of the ship, bar the few windows, even these items had been coated with the same black glistening substance.
As Reb guided the Hudson to a level beneath the Fantasy, he dropped back on the speed so that the huge ship passed slowly overhead. Lirik pointed out to the Commander the numerous entrances on the port and starboard underside where private vessels were stored for the more affluent passengers. A few minutes later, the Hudson was once again on the tail of the Fantasy, vibrating slightly in the other vessel's wake.
"Should I take her round the sides?" Reb asked as the two men re-entered the cockpit.
"Those K'Tani ships will be on us in less than ninety minutes," Struckchev said, toying with the phaser clipped to his belt. "We don't have the time. We need to get aboard now."
Lirik walked over to the sensors panel and scanned the area around the main shuttle bay doors, zooming in as close as he could. As he guessed, there were both EVA airlocks and manual override panels on either side of the main bay doors. "We have no choice but to break communications silence. Commander, transmit known key codes toward the rear of the ship, it may open the doors for us."
Struckchev did so, but nothing happened. "The system must still be off line."
Lirik flicked at the comm panel in front of him. "Fantasy, please come in. This is the Hudson."
"No response," Yip verbalised.
"Then one of us will have to go out there and release the bay doors manually," Lirik said.
Reb's jaw dropped. "They are travelling at over 1500kph!"
Lirik smiled. "That's a crawl in space terms." He knew what Reb meant, but he wanted to create an air of confidence.
Struckchev frowned in contempt. "Those K'Tani ships are on an intercept course, they're sure to be able to detect us soon if they haven't already."
"And there may even be K'Tani aboard. I don't like the sound of an EVA either, but I don't see we have a choice." Lirik tried to rack his brains for an alternative solution.
Cadet Yip coughed slightly as she entered from the rear. "We might not have to go completely outside." They all turned to see the Cadet holding a number of telescopic communication antennae that had been retrieved from the Papillon. It was clear enough for them all to realise that, tied together, they could form an extension long enough to reach the manual override panel if the runabout got close enough.
* * *
The maintenance shaft Souveson and Christian had used to escape was blocked five decks down. Reluctantly they had gone back up two deck levels and exited through a horizontal Jeffries tube. Souveson took point this time, though reaching a small intersection cell she slumped down and stretched her legs.
"Take a minute, Ensign," Captain Christian said. "I don't believe we've been followed." His head rocked back against the wall and his closed his eyes. "I don't know about you, but I could sleep forever. Ouch!" A muscle twanged above his shoulder blade and he fought to try and reach it to relieve the sharp twitching pain that remained.
Souveson was already sitting opposite him, legs crossed confidently, and she was slowly massaging her own face, neck and shoulders. "Here," the Ensign said, "my mother was a physiotherapist and taught me some relaxation techniques."
Christian didn't flinch as the young woman slipped snugly behind him and grasped his shoulders firmly. "Augh," he couldn't help but verbalise the intense pain/pleasure feel of the hard hands pummelling his tense muscles. "That's pretty good, Ensign. Thank you."
For several minutes, neither spoke, the light from the torch pen casting strange undulating shadows on the cell walls as the security officer's movements took away much of the tension from her superior's body. After his shoulders Souveson moved to his neck, and finally finished her 'portrait' treatment by running her fingertips hard across his scalp, roughing his hair up and causing Christian to grin.
"That was great," he said as she sat opposite him once more. The last part of the massage had been particularly enlivening. "I've been thinking, Ensign. If they could have, Yeoman Lirik and Rebbik would have brought the runabout aboard immediately."
"Unless they knew there were K'Tani on board," Souveson said.
Christian shook his head, pouting. "I'm sure they couldn't possibly scan beyond the surface of the ship or if they could, they would have beamed aboard already."
"Then perhaps they were looking for another way in," she guessed.
"The only available entrance we know of is through the main shuttle bay, where most of our people are being held," he said. "They must have been looking for something else, I don't know what."
"Sir, if we're going to re-take the ship, we'll need weapons. If we could get a message to Mister Lirik, he might be able to help us. I'm sure the runabout has phasers on board."
"They can't help us unless they can get aboard first. No, I think we're going to have to rely on our own people on board to help us." Christian paused for a few seconds, going over possibilities. "We can count out the main group held in the shuttle bay. For one, it's a longer crawl for us, and for two, they're sure to be more heavily guarded."
Souveson thought hard for a moment. "Wouldn't the others be too injured to help?"
"Perhaps not all of them, no," Christian mused. "I can't see Lieutenant O'Hara leaving the injured alone with the K'Tani, can you?"
"Then we go to the former beauty spa," Souveson said, moving on to all fours to head out.
"Maybe not we, Ensign," Christian said. The Ensign frowned. "Just me. You should continue to the shuttle bay. If I fail, then at least you might have a chance. What wouldn't I give for a fully operational ship. I could simply seal off the relevant sections and flood them with sleeping gas, not that I would know if it affected K'Tani physiology or not."
Souveson was already at the hatch, about to make a fast crawl away. "Good luck, Sir."
"You too, er, what's your first name, Ensign?" he asked politely.
The French Canadian flushed with embarrassment. "Fabrice," she said.
"All my hopes, Fabrice."
The Ensign nodded and was swiftly gone. Being much shorter, and having smaller limbs, Souveson was better equipped physically for Jeffries Tube crawling. Christian found the going slow, cumbersome, and - having nearly worn through his tattered pants - quite painful after only a few lengths.
As he rested above a ventilation grille, Christian heard footsteps approaching and kept completely still. Staring down through the mesh, he silently watched as a patrol party of K'Tani passed in the corridor beneath him. Amid their ranks, were the two bloody and frightened faces of Lieutenant Commander Leonard and Hedrik, the latter of whom was being supported by the taller, stronger former, a woozy look in her eyes.
* * *
Quite by chance, the hitherto unused space suits in the runabout's emergency locker were too small for Struckchev and Lirik and too big for Cadet Yip. Although designed to be worn by anyone, the three could have managed, but not comfortably and the two officers agreed the person to do the job would need maximum flexibility.
Reb, assuming he had been deemed the most expendable, was making loud protests while being fitted, not least of which was a lack of confidence in the piloting skills of the two Starfleets.
Once booted and suited, Lirik went over the final do's and don'ts for a third time before Reb donned the helmet. Lirik tethered the thin cable between the runabout's corridor railing and the back of Reb's suit, sealed off the aft section and went into the cockpit. Standing in front of Reb he thrust a thumb up for good luck then closed off forward section. As the doors closed, Reb raised his middle finger in response and stood alone in the narrow space holding onto the curious fishing-rod type equipment in his big-gloved hands. Red lights began to flash in all four corners of the corridor's ceiling before he felt the imperceptible drain of atmosphere around him.
Moments later several rungs emerged from the flush housings on the left wall, and looking up, Reb saw the three circular seals swoop silently back into their housings. As the final one retracted, he saw the stars above him, only barely moving. With the SIF having been reduced to its lowest possible setting, the runabout was shaking a little more than normal. The gravity boots he wore gripped the decking firmly, but Reb knew that once he began to climb to the top, his grip would be a lot less firm.
Licking his lips, Reb began to extend each telescopic antennae, lashing each one to the next with self-sealing meshwrap tape. Reb almost expected there to be a pull on the antennae as it poked out of the runabout, but of course, moving at sub-light, there was only the occasional wobble as the vessel itself moved around him. Soon the precariously long rod extended over thirty metres outside of the runabout, and Reb then wondered how he was going to climb with only one hand.
Instead, he used the vacuum to his advantage and gripped the antennae under his armpit as he slowly and shakily climbed the rungs. "You're doing very well, Reb." The voice was sudden and unexpected in his helmet, loud as if in his own mind and Reb teetered on the rungs, almost losing his footing.
"For crying out loud, shut up, willya?!" Reb responded. As with many things in life, there is a first time for everything. Until now, despite having lived most of his waking time in space, Reb had never stuck his head out of a vessel moving through open space. As a boy, he had assisted his father in EVAs outside their home, but then the trading vessel on which he was raised was always stationary or in stationary orbit. Although deeply dangerous, it was an amazing experience.
The back of the Fantasy seemed even larger from this vantagepoint, despite the fact the cockpit was three metres ahead of him. Reb was pleased to see that, probably Struckchev, had piloted the runabout within several metres of the back of the vessel. "Can you take me in any closer?" Reb asked.
"Negative, this is the safest minimum distance," the Kosovan's hard accent cut through Reb.
Reb braced himself as best he could, then adjusted his helmet setting so that part of it was giving him a telescopic image. Much like with the grabber arm deep under the surface of Helub, Reb then swung the antennae extension down toward the Fantasy's hull.
"Shit!" Reb cried as the antennae hit the metal surface hard, way shy of the manual override panel and putting a strain on the mesh connectors. He almost lost his grip entirely. A sudden image of his body floating off into space to be picked up (or picked off) by the K'Tani vessels some minutes behind flashed through his head.
"It's okay, just retract part of one telescopic unit," Lirik spoke calmly in his ear. "You've got plenty of time."
It was a lie, and Reb knew it. Carefully, he shortened the extension's length and stabbed toward the panel another three times. He realised it was the helmet's telescopic view that was causing the problem, and switched back to normal.
Several minutes later, he finally managed to get the extension to the right length, but getting the one centimetre tip to hit a two-centimetre square was not easy. Again and again he stabbed at the hull, but to no avail.
Inside the cockpit, Yip was tensed up, frowning and willing Reb to make contact. Struckchev consistently made tutting and heavy sighing noises. Only Lirik seemed calm; slowly speaking when he thought to give encouragement, and secretly monitoring the half-Ferengi's life signs to make sure the man wasn't going to break into a panic and freak completely.
* * *
In the stale air of the main shuttle bay Murak turned his head slightly toward Commodore Jackson. Everyone captive had been forced to either sit on their hands or with their hands on their heads spaced evenly apart in clear lines, staggered so as to be just out of arm's reach. They covered the entire shuttle bay deck. K'Tani soldiers stood in silent watch around the perimeter, their weapons only slightly lowered. Spaced so evenly, Jackson had been able to accurately count 405 people sitting on the deck, though in the general melee while being forced to the floor word had reached her that most of the injured were still being held in the makeshift sick bay. The Captain, Souveson, Hedrik and Leonard were no-where to be seen. Narli had been separated from the main group of prisoners, as had all the Helan.
Murak lightly coughed, an indiscernible noise, barely audible to Jackson. She didn't turn immediately (while they were permitted to move their heads or adjust their legs, they were not allowed to speak) so as not to attract attention. Though it greatly pained her, some children were still sobbing, even though the youngest and the babies were allowed to sit with their guardians. It hadn't stopped several children from being clipped across the head or hit in the face with the butt of a soldier's weapon when they made too much noise. Jackson and several others had violently protested, but it had only resulted in even more injuries. Everyone finally realised the best thing to do was to stay still and keep quiet as best they could. Jackson could still feel herself boiling with anger inside and wanted to get these K'Tani more than anything she had felt before.
Several heartbeats later she slowly inclined her head and pretended to look over to the side of the shuttle bay.
"They can hear something at the back," Murak informed her in a whisper, trying not to move his lips. Thankfully the K'Tani hadn't removed their commbadges and the tiny device was recreating the whispered Romulan into an equally whispered English. "It sounds like tapping on the bay doors."
Jackson looked away and nodded her head in acknowledgement seconds later, pleased that the 'Chinese Whispers' network of the captives had armed her with more information. She wondered if the knocking had been made by the Captain and hoped he had a rescue plan.
Several long hours ago, the K'Tani soldiers had materialised all around them and throughout much of the ship without warning, instantly forcing everyone at gunpoint to the shuttle bay. Some survivors had been physically assaulted (like the Klingons who had resisted the most), and she heard a few had been shot at, but as far as she knew no one had been actually killed.
No single K'Tani seemed to be in charge, and their strange, multicoloured all in one suits gave no indication of rank or position. Added to which, none of them had spoken - their gestures and use of weapons had been all the communication tools they needed. She thought perhaps they were telepaths - particularly as neither she or anyone else had been interrogated in any way.
As Jackson wondered what she could do to help the Captain or whoever it was outside the ship, she was both surprised and shocked to see the doors leading to the standby area split apart. Nearly all the prisoners on the main shuttle bay floor turned their heads to see what was going on.
Beyond the doors, the Helan and also Ambassador Narli were equally seated also on the floor, though under tighter armed guard - three and in some cases four soldiers for each individual. Why they should have singled the Andorian or the Helan out for special treatment was beyond Jackson, but what pained her the most was that Narli appeared to have been badly beaten.
Instinctively Jackson rose to her feet (somewhat clumsily) to protest, immediately causing the K'Tani around the perimeter to raise their weapons and step into an attacking stance. No soon as this happened, a terrific "shunt" noise rang out from behind her and the electric blue of the passive forcefield kicked in around the main shuttle bay doors. Slowly the bay doors retracted into the floor and ceiling respectively and Jackson was excited to see the off-white hull of the runabout Hudson just a few metres beyond.
As the small vessel came into view, Jackson saw a space-suited figure wave eagerly from the top of the ship. The raised hand then hesitated, and then the whole body suddenly dropped from sight as many red flashes of laser fire lashed out from each and every K'Tani soldier toward the ship. As Jackson sprawled across the deck with the rest of the screaming civilians, she saw that their blasts wouldn't penetrate the bay's shields, but realised the energy displacement could cause it to deactivate and the shuttle bay to decompress, sucking everyone out into space.
"Hold your fire!" she shouted, knocking heads violently with a terrified looking Professor Karnak.
"Commodore!" the Professor could hardly control her emotions anymore. "There is something you should know! It is about the K'Tani soldiers, they are all -" Her words could not be completed as she was kicked in the head by a falling Tellerite, his hoof knocking her instantly unconscious.
Jackson was then roughly hauled to one side, rolling onto her back, and she noticed the doors to the adjacent standby bay closing once again. The Hudson was still sitting just beyond the main bay doors, though with her failing eyesight she failed to see the argument taking place between two of its occupants. Clearly deciding that the situation was too dangerous for now, the runabout did begin to turn slowly away.
The same hand that had hauled Jackson to one side then grabbed her again, and wrenched her arm, pulling her evermore toward the side of the shuttle bay. She realised it was the Romulan Murak, and he seemed to leading her toward the corridor.
"No!" the Commodore pulled herself violently free. "I won't leave them!" She turned back to see most of the prisoners had either sprawled flat on their faces, or scrambled to the sides of the bay out of the line of fire. The K'Tani had now moved into three main groups, and Murak was pulling Jackson toward an unguarded flank. Preoccupied as the K'Tani were, she assumed Murak had seen an opportunity for escape and hoped to take her with him.
"Come on! While we still have time!" Murak spat, but Jackson was suddenly hit by a stun blast and crumpled to the floor. Murak himself dived toward the door to the corridor, but even as he flew through the air he saw a K'Tani soldier advancing.
Murak was jerked to his feet, facing the massive K'Tani head on, only its mouth and chin visible beneath the purple/green/pink/yellow/blue/gold/black mask. He couldn't even get a sense of smell from the thing. As it raised its rifle to hit him, he turned his cheek and braced himself for the impact. But the blow never came. Looking up, he saw the materialised Yeoman Lirik standing behind the K'Tani with his hand firmly gripping the arm aloft. The Diplomat's free hand came crashing down in a chop across the backside of the neck and the K'Tani fell to its knees.
Gripping the alien's weapon hard, Lirik yanked it free and cracked it across the K'Tani's skull. As he did, the K'Tani dematerialised, causing Lirik to pause, wide-eyed. Murak was not so easily distracted, and leapt out into the corridor, closely followed by the Yeoman.
The corridor seemed empty. They could still hear the firing from within the bay, but no one was following them.
"This way," Lirik shouted and the two men raced off down a corridor toward the same Jeffries tube Lirik and Christian had used to ascend to the Bridge nearly a week ago.
* * *
Christian slumped sweating profusely in the Jeffries tube as he once again lost his bearings. The first two times he had been forced to enter a corridor area to read the deck plans, but he seemed closer to a lot more K'Tani soldiers now and felt he couldn't risk it. Hunched over as he was, he noticed the blood seeping through his knees first of all, and then looking up saw the thin strands of matted hair, wet and dripping in front of his eyes with perspiration.
As he caught his breath, he heard a slight chinking sound from nearby. It continued to clink intermittently and slowly he followed the noise to its origin. Looking down through the vent into the atrium below, he could see the plant crossing it's ceiling that suspended chains into what O'Hara had turned into the makeshift morgue. He'd made it.
In less time than he thought, Christian had climbed onto the plant and down the chains and stood amid the gloom of the former workshops. Making his way quickly forward, he heard few sounds coming from the sick bay area. Carefully, he proceeded toward the area where O'Hara had been treating her worst cases and hiding behind a few crates he saw her assistants there going about their business, almost as if nothing was wrong.
As he stepped out of the shadows, a sixth sense told him danger before he felt the weight of another person slam into his thighs from behind and tackle him to the floor. He was barely able to turn and block the arm as it came crashing down into the back of his head, and almost didn't manage it when he saw not a K'Tani soldier, but O'Hara herself, brandishing a metal pipe with great verve.
"Christian?!" she said, shocked.
The Captain fought for air. "Do you mind?"
She hesitated, then climbed up from her straddling position, calling over to the others. "It's okay, it's Captain Christian."
Christian instinctively raised a finger to his lips, but the redhead was saying no, pulling him to his feet. "There are no K'Tani in here. They won't come beyond those doors, for some reason."
"How many of you are there?" Christian approached the intensive care beds, sadly seeing another of the patient's faces had been covered.
"They allowed us few to remain to look after these worst cases, but they took everyone else," she said, stepping over to assist the Jetralex eunuch who was busying herself changing dressings. "More like that, Wheezy," she said in a kind tone. "Captain, where's the cavalry? Or are you acting alone?"
Christian gritted his teeth. "The good news is Lirik has returned with the runabout. The bad news is, I don't think they can get aboard, but Ensign Souveson is hoping to change that. She's on her way to the main shuttle bay now," he said, noticing the New Parisian man was staring at his bloody legs.
"That's where everyone else was taken," O'Hara said, nodding.
"Correct. As far as I can tell, Souveson and I were the only ones who evaded them. I was sort of hoping some of you would help me to re-take the ship, but you've clearly got your hands- " Christian was cut off by the sound of movement from entrance to the Beauty Spa's former foyer. He ducked down, even though the soldiers couldn't see them.
O'Hara peeped through the plastic curtains to see two K'Tani dumping Hedrik's wounded frame through the main doors, then turn their backs to keep guard outside. O'Hara and Wheezy rushed over, helping the moaning Hedrik to the back of the spa.
"I don't get it, why won't they ever come in here?" the strange character called Wheezy said as she deftly lifted Hedrik onto a spare table and handed a tricorder to the Lieutenant.
"Perhaps they're scared of blood," O'Hara said.
"That's funny, our Ensign thinks they're afraid of the dark," Christian snorted. He then jumped as Hedrik's hand grabbed his arm.
"NoÖ" she said quietly.
"Shh, there. You've got a bad head wound," O'Hara said.
"No, it's the K'Tani, theyÖ" Hedrik tried to speak. Christian moved toward her, only to be blocked by O'Hara. He couldn't believe it. Now, even in the direst of straits, the Lieutenant was giving him yet another stand-off. He roughly pushed past and lowered his face toward Hedrik.
"Miss Hedrik? What were you saying?" he saw her eyes flutter open, her mouth breaking in to a smile.
"CaptainÖ" she said, dreamily. "How niceÖ"
Christian gripped her shoulders. "Come on, there's no time for that. What were you telling us?"
Hedrik's face straightened, then laughed ironically. "HologramsÖ they're all holograms," she said.
Christian was shocked. He straightened, and didn't feel O'Hara heaving him to one side to treat Hedrik's head wound. "Of course, that's why theyÖ I have to get to the computer core."
"Wait!" O'Hara called after him, seeing him rush off as he made his way back toward the morgue area. "Captain!" she caught up with him, pulling on his arm. "They may be holograms, but they don't have any safeties. We've both seen evidence of that. You'll never get past them alone."
"Lieutenant, I know the risks" Christian flicked his still damp hair back and walked away, realising O'Hara was trying to confess or possibly ask something. He turned to look at her, square on. "Was there something else? I'm in a hurry here."
O'Hara looked almost embarrassed. "I thought I might be able to help you. I used to be a medic in the Marine Corps."
Christian smiled. "I know. I'm sure you'll get your chance one day, but for now your patients are your primary concern." Spinning on his heel, he trotted off toward the Jeffries tube, and only when he had disappeared from view did O'Hara reluctantly return to her patients.
* * *
Panting furiously, Lirik tried to keep up with the determined Romulan who was rhythmically ascending the ladder towards the Engineering deck. Rung by rung, he was falling behind, telling himself that while speed was of the essence, break-neck speed was not.
Pacing himself, Lirik finally reached the young Romulan who was poised at the exit point to the corridor. "I say we enter the core at different levels," the Yeoman panted. "We stand more of a chance that way."
Murak was almost handsome for a Romulan, and didn't look quite as gaunt as most Lirik had met. Even his eyes had the vaguest hint of stone colour whereas most of his race had the singular dark iris colour. "You are absolutely sure they are holograms?"
"Without a doubt," Lirik said. "I can sense energy in the EM spectrum and it allows me a particular clarity of vision. We could take off the emitters section by section, but my hunch is that shutting down the computer core will eradicate them all simultaneously."
Murak nodded, and cautiously stepped into the corridor, leaving Lirik still panting on the ladder. Although the Romulan had gone, Lirik said: "Actually I was going to suggest that you keep climbing, and I'll get out here." He gripped the ladder and started the heavy climb once more. "Oh, well."
* * *
Slowly as she could Souveson eased herself from the overhead conduit and dropped to the floor of the small maintenance shop. Her movement was as silent as she could manage, but the pounding of her heart was almost deafening to her own ears.
Tentatively, she peered round the corner into the control suite and then through its windows into the bay beyond. She chastised herself - this was not the primary control after all, but the standby bay, and in the space beyond were all the Helan and Ambassador Narli under heavy armed guard.
Souveson watched in horror as the young Vostaline was grasped by the throat by one of the K'Tani soldiers, held aloft, then tossed across the bay to the far wall. She was convinced by the speed and trajectory that the girl's spine would be broken, but instead, Vostaline rolled over and moved slowly to her feet. Before she got there, she was picked up by two other soldiers who dragged across the deck to be thrown down in her original position.
So it continued, the systematic torture and brutality toward each prisoner, and the Ensign began to realise that the previous K'Tani occupation must have been unbearable for the people of the Outer Zone. Crouching low, she slipped along the wall to the control panel where she barely peered above the console to read the main displays. She was hoping to be able to get a view of the main shuttle bay and then open the doors, but before she could act, she could feel a shadow pass to her side. Souveson quickly ducked down, but already it was too late - someone was entering the control room door.
Acknowledging her fate with pride, she stood, and the huge K'Tani entered, pointing her weapon toward her. Souveson slowly raised her arms and faced the soldier, but as the K'Tani moved to her side to guide her out, the Ensign grabbed her arm, twisted her body and threw the soldier over her tightly tucked frame with ease.
"I didn't win the Academy Judo championship for my looks," Souveson jibed, raising the weapon and turning to face the other K'Tani soldiers.
However, instead of pointing their weapons back at her, the soldiers on the other side of the glass had each of their weapons pointed toward the stoic expressions on the faces of the Helan and a sympathetic but bruised looking Ambassador. With great emotion, Souveson threw the weapon to the floor, suddenly surprised by the kicking motion of the fallen K'Tani beneath her who sent her falling into the deck.
Souveson had landed worse in the past, but her butt still smarted. She was amazed to see the K'Tani female soldier now standing in a fighting stance and encourage Souveson to join her in a fight with a universal hand gesture.
"You have got to be joking," the Ensign said. But the K'Tani lunged for her instead, Souveson's finely honed instincts clicked in, taking the hand and the arm in a spinning motion, and using her opponent's weight and forward motion to send her smashing into the console.
Souveson was amazed to see the K'Tani still standing and, incredibly, unharmed. She suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline and a strong desire to beat the other woman into submission for the name of the Academy.
* * *
"Is everybody clear, then?" Struckchev turned to Yip and Reb who were poised at the shields and pilot stations respectively. Both nodded. The Commander himself had readied the tactical console "Then let's do it. Shields up. Engage, Mister Rebbik."
The Hudson was poised on the right hand side of the Fantasy, out of sight of the K'Tani - they had moved there when they suspected the K'Tani weapons fire might deactivate the forcefield. Now they hoped to enter the ship at speed and take out the soldiers from within the bay itself.
Reb thought it was a gamble, but didn't see they had another choice. On the nod from Struckchev he decreased speed and prepped to turn the runabout and accelerate into the bay. But as soon as they were poised behind her, they all saw the campaign was over before it had begun.
"They've closed the doors again," Yip stated the obvious.
"Dammit!" Struckchev shouted and punched at the hull frame.
Reb just thumbed up toward the top of the runabout, saying: "I'm not going out there again."
* * *
Christian sidled along the wall, pressing his back firmly against it and turning his head toward the corner of the corridor where it met the Core's deck. He was sure he had heard a movement from within the core area, and was bracing himself for a fight.
Reaching the corner, he spun in, only too late seeing the punch lashing out and catching him fully on the jaw. The Captain whirled through the air and thudded onto the floor backwards.
"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!" Lirik crouched over the Captain. "I thought you were-"
"Yesh yesh," Christian had a fat lip. A couple of inches over and Lirik would have contacted either his chin or his nose, possibly knocking him out. As it was, he had slightly recoiled and only taken about two thirds of the punch's power. Lirik was holding his hand out, but Christian ignored it, standing by his own means. "Look out!" Christian saw the two K'Tani enter on the other side of the platform and pushed Lirik aside a split second before their phasers fired.
The two black, singed impact points in the wall showed that the phasers were not on stun. "You know they are holograms, I suppose?" Lirik asked. The Captain nodded in response. Lirik suddenly blocked the line of sight between the K'Tani and the Captain. "You go, I have my shield to protect me!"
Christian knew that an environmental shield, even on its highest setting, would not take much firepower before it collapsed. Nevertheless, it would buy him a few seconds. He jumped onto an access ladder and ascended the core, only to see in the distance of perpendicular corridors around the core yet more K'Tani heading toward them.
The Captain reached the upper most level in no time and leapt into the core control room. He pulled out all the control chips he could find, frantically pulling on cabling and wiring - anything he could disengage - letting the whole gubbins fall softly into the surrounding fur carpet.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the K'Tani climbing the ladder toward him. To his angst, he hadn't succeeded so far. On the levels below, he saw Lirik take a couple of blasts and then eradicate one of the soldiers with a few swift moves. The Yeoman was then engaged in a tight grapple with the other, while trying to knock out the local emitters - but there were too many to affect the hologram.
With all the chips now out, and all the switches he could find thrown in blind panic, still Christian realised he would have to destroy the core itself.
* * *
The Ensign's fight had moved onto the standby deck itself. Souveson was wounded, but not finished. Though tired and staggering she would not give up. The greater number of K'Tani soldiers had dragged the Helan to one side and formed a wide semi- circle around the two fighters, much like in training exercises at the Academy. Narli, she realised, had looked away, not wishing to witness the cruel death of one so young.
* * *
Christian was frantic. He stepped over to the window and looked down into the core, his eyes almost prophetically falling on the few chips engaged in the core's active centre. Stepping out onto the narrow gangway, he came face to face with two K'Tani. The nearest soldier swung wildly at him, but Christian deftly ducked then rose and kicked the man back ward. It was not meant to hurt, just to put him off balance long enough for the Captain to climb up onto the guide rail and leap down into the core itself.
The uppermost transparent walls and sectioning of the core was like a glasshouse and Christian smashed through into the more solid structure. He hit his head and bumped his nose and already bloody knees several times before he used his hands to feel the path down, smearing blood along his path. As he passed the level where Lirik was fighting, he noticed the diplomat was almost embracing the K'Tani and the half-Medusan seemed to have his hands buried beneath the soldier's rippling skin. The K'Tani was shaking wildly, vibrating harder and harder before finally dematerialising, Lirik dropping onto the deck with a hard thump.
Christian couldn't afford to watch. He was already on top of the first chip. Snatching it out, he looked up, but nothing had changed, there were still K'Tani around, some now firing at him within the core. His eyes glanced around at the few remaining memory chips, finally honing in on a single, black tube. He decided it was either that or nothing. No holds barred, Christian kicked and smashed his way through the part of the core until he reached it. Lirik had already despatched a third advancing soldier, but now was being fired upon by more from the approaching corridor and had no choice but to hit the deck. Christian grabbed the chip, watching Murak fall unconsciously into view several decks below and yanked it out.
Instantly, all the K'Tani dematerialised. Christian slumped exhausted between the transparent panels, only Lirik's heavy wheezing and the tinkling sound of broken core remnants to be heard.
* * *
One blow. Another and another and the small, young Ensign finally crumpled back into the deck. She was weak and unable to move her body hard as she saw the K'Tani boot rise high above her face and then vanish. Her eyes flicked around, all the other K'Tani had gone, it seemed. The injured Ambassador was already at her side, cradling her. "It's over now," he said as she struggled to look composed.
* * *
Just as soon as the holographic K'Tani were deleted, Christian was struggling to free himself from the core wreckage. "Someone needs to get to the bridge, those other ships will be on us in no time."
Lirik pulled himself to a kneeling position. "Captain, we'll never out-run them at impulse."
Christian nodded, taking Lirik's outstretched hand to help assist him traverse the gap between the core and onto the main deck. "There's an emergency warp generator on this deck. You get to the bridge, we'll get to Engineering," Christian nodded down to the stirring Romulan.
Before Lirik could reply, Christian had left to make his way to the main engineering area. Lirik felt immediately depressed, he didn't like the pressure of climbing even more decks and this was the most physical exertion he'd had in months. He knew his limitations, and wasn't as fit as he once was.
* * *
On the shuttle bay deck, Jackson quickly herded all the civilians out into the corridors, allowing the runabout to come aboard, the occupants pleasantly surprised to see no sign of the K'Tani soldiers. As soon as the runabout touched down, Warnerburg and several others helped close the main bay doors.
Struckchev barely had a chance to introduce himself before Reb launched into stories of his escapades. As soon as talk of supplies was mentioned, Jackson organised teams to take equipment directly to engineering or the makeshift sickbay respectively; the latter group instructed to bring O'Hara to attend to the injured in the standby bay.
* * *
Alone on the bridge, Lirik spurred his heavy legs towards the conn station. "Bridge to Engineering, are you there, Captain?"
"Yes, Yeoman. We should be able to give you a short warp burst in the next few minutes. Make it count, will you?" Christian's voice shouted.
Lirik could see the way through just ahead. He slowly guided the ship toward the opening in the asteroid field and finally, the Fantasy was in open space. They only needed a short burst to take them to safety, the ship's protective coating should then hide them long enough for the warp engines to be brought to full efficiency.
Just as a few people began to emerge onto the bridge either via the Jeffries tube or through the turbolift doors (much to Lirik's ire - he hadn't realised the turbolift was operational), a small Bajoran girl suddenly appeared to Lirik's left from the portside corridor leading to the observation lounge. His head whipped round and he had to concentrate to focus in the dim shadows. She looked dirty but pretty, almost a parody of a little girl, as she wore a satin tunic and pants and an alice band in her blonde hair and carried a small dolly. She was biting her lip nervously.
"Hello, there. Have you been up here all the time?" Lirik asked in the kindest voice he could manage - he hit the now active nacelle deploy button and felt the faint grinding motion of the huge warp engines being deployed.
The girl nodded and quickly ran over to him, tearful. "Yes, I've been hiding from those nasty soldiers," she said, taking his arm and squeezing it tight, grabbing for his other hand.
"You poor thing," Lirik was surprised by the girl's action, but realised she mustn't understand about Medusan physiology. Nevertheless, her grip was surprisingly tight. "Everything's okay now. Don't you worry." He smiled and waited a few minutes for the displays to read nominal, allowing the girl to continue to hold him while he operated the helm with his other free hand.
Just then, the girl appeared to stumble, falling towards the controls. Lirik, not entirely inexperienced in child management, saw the movement coming and managed to stop the girl before she made contact. "Whoops!" he grabbed her arm firmly but safely, arresting the fall with a smile. The girl locked eyes with him, her face contorting to an almost contemptuous look of anger. Her eyes burned into his, making the Yeoman feel like he was looking at an adult rather than a small child. Lirik glanced down at the console, realising that if she had fallen she would have hit a part of the console that would have cut the engines and stalled the ship's warp jump by anything up to twenty minutes. His mind began to wonder.
Grabbing his wrist that held her, the girl wrenched herself violently free, her teeth bared as she appeared to have a temper tantrum. Skipping out of Lirik's reach, she raised her fists to slam them on the same part of the flight console.
"No!" Lirik yelled and managed to carefully lunge forward in order to toss the girl to one side before she made contact with the helm. Lirik then punched the engage button, the viewscreen twisting the stars for a couple of seconds and taking them to safety.
"Mister Lirik!" Jackson yelled from behind, having witnessed only the vague outline of what just occurred from the back of the bridge. "She's just a small girl!" The girl heard the voice and ran wailing toward the Commodore.
"Heeee puushed meee!" she sobbed hard into Jackson's tunic, the older woman patting the girl gently on the head.
Lirik flushed, thinking fast. "I apologise, Commodore. The little girl Ö had a temper tantrum and was about to stall our enginesÖ" the Yeoman saw Jackson's frown deepen. He laughed in response. "Quite by accident, of course." Lirik approached the girl, and grabbed her shoulder tightly. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, but you should really be more careful around important equipment."
The little girl appeared to have suddenly stopped sobbing. Whirling around she knocked Lirik's hand from his shoulder, shouting: "Get off me you Medusan scum!"
Again Lirik locked eyes with her - although the words were familiar to him, coming from the mouth of such a young girl and with such venom cut the Yeoman deeply. He swallowed. Strangely, the girl then appeared to smile, as if knowing she had hurt him.
"Well, he's apologised now," Jackson said to the girl, unaware of the tense stand-off. "There's no need for name calling. Come on, I'll take you to the others." As she guided the girl away, Lirik stepped forward to follow.
"What's your name, little girl?" he asked, intent upon her reaction, let alone her words. Instead, she ignored him, pulling on the Commodore's hand to leave the bridge as quickly as possible.
Before Lirik could follow, Christian appeared from the turbolift, placing a hand in front of him. "As you were, Mister Lirik." The Yeoman watched the young girl glance back at him, smiling smugly, as she and the Commodore disappeared into the same departing turbolift. "I'd like to see you and Mister Rebbik in my office in one hour, I think you know what about." Christian looked around the bridge. "Any sign of the K'Tani ships?" A young man dressed in tight black clothing turned from the engineering console, shaking his head. "Well then," the Captain, tattered, bruised, cut, dirty, sweat-stained and limping, turned his back on the bridge to go to his newly discovered quarters on the deck below, "I'm going below to clean up. You have the conn, Mister Lirik."
The order stunned Lirik a little, but the others on the bridge were too excited (or uniformed) to understand the implication of what he had said. Instead of falling into the centre seat, however, Lirik gently heaved an old woman out of the communications chair as the survivors buzzed aroud, eagerly comparing notes of the events of the last day or so. Despite the noise, Lirik barely noticed their un-Starfleet behaviour as he turned to the console and reached in his pocket, removing a small padd containing the transmission analysis of the message he and Rebbik had picked up earlier that day. He played the words several times, then waggled the flat device between his fingers.
"This message was from a young girl," Lirik said to himself. "I wonder Ö"
FIN
