She looked down at the calm, innocent face of the sleeping child with a certain degree of envy. It felt as if she hadn’t possessed any such tranquility in years.
Her last few days had been a never-ending nightmare which appeared to get worse with every passing hour. She had come to Tiaita determined to help a people suffering from a dreadful famine and unprovoked aggression by a gang of criminals.
Instead she had been placed squarely into the middle of war, had been shot at, captured and narrowly escaped certain torture and now had seemingly become the caretaker of an orphaned child. It was, quite frankly, a little bit too much to handle and she just couldn’t figure out what needed to be done next.
After all this wasn’t some medical procedure where she could look at the symptoms and apply the appropriate treatment. This couldn’t be fixed simply by making the right diagnosis. This was quite possibly unfixable and Ashley Wenera felt as if she was in way over her head.
Just about two days ago her main concern had been to find a way – any way – to return to Eagle. But now she wasn’t even sure about that simple priority anymore. Somehow Starfleet was involved in what was happening on this world and in a much deeper way than had been obvious. She doubted very much that Owens knew anything about it but she didn’t trust the admiral who was in charge of this mission. A man willing to hide a civil war was certainly capable of manipulating the current situation and possibly even try to keep her from safely returning to her ship.
And then there was T’Ser. If there was one priority which was perfectly clear to her, it was that T’Ser needed to be rescued from Deite’s clutches. The woman had plainly demonstrated her vile nature and as long as she held the Vulcan, she was in serious danger.
The young child stirred slightly and Wenera knelt down next to the small cot in which he lay wrapped into a warm blanket. His full face illuminated by the oil lamps which were the only light sources in the dirty, rundown shack.
The child presented another problem. Wenera had never thought in a million years she would have to care for him. In fact, she didn’t know the first thing about children beyond their medical requirements. But it turned out Balik was even more ignorant so it had fallen to her to be the stand-in parent. She couldn’t deny that she was actually becoming quite fond of the tiny boy. Was that what it felt like to be a mother, she wondered.
She didn’t have time to contemplate motherhood for long. Sounds of footsteps outside urged her to sneak towards the only door.
It had to be Balik. He had left her in the middle of the night to make contact with a local New Light cell and had promised to return quickly. He had shown little concerns about leaving her by herself. It was Wenera who had not wanted him to leave but he had insisted that it was necessary.
Relieved that he had finally returned, she opened the door an inch to spy outside.
It wasn’t Balik.
A dark-clad government soldier was patrolling the neighborhood and the doctor quickly closed the door again. She leaned with her back against it and tried to control her breathing which had suddenly become much more rapid.
The boy stirred again and Wenera prayed he would remain asleep.
It went unanswered when he began to cry.
She felt her heart pumping furiously in her chest.
The footsteps were coming closer now.
Wenera took a deep breath for courage and then sneaked back to the cot. “Pssh, little one,” she pleaded in an urgent whisper. “Pssh.”
Somebody rapped against the door.
Her head jerked backwards and over her shoulder.
“Who’s in there?”
“Please, stop crying,” she begged quietly.
But the child did not obey.
“I can hear you. Open this door this instance!”
Wenera got onto her feet and desperately tried to think of a way out of this. There were no other exits to the shack and no places to hide.
“You know it is a serious offense for an Ait to defy a military order. Now open this door or I will knock it down.”
Left with no options, Wenera walked over to the door and slowly opened it.
Too slowly for the soldier who forced it open the moment it gave in, sending Wenera tripping backwards.
The solider had his rifle out and pointed it at her immediately. “You are not an Ait.”
“No,” she said. “I’m not.”
The confusion on the man’s face didn’t last. Apparently he had been briefed quite extensively on who they were looking for. He noticed the child. “Move into the far corner of the room. But keep facing me. Slowly,” he said.
Wenera began to step backwards and away from the soldier who in turned moved towards the cot. His rifle remained pointed at the Starfleet officer.
When he had reached the cot he looked down at the child who by now had stopped crying again. Wenera thought he had lousy timing.
The soldier glanced up. “Where are Balik-Ait and Deite-Ait?”
“I don’t know.”
He uttered a harsh and humorless laugh. “You are one of the aliens taken by the New Light. Don’t tell me they’ve made you believe in their dirty lies. The sooner you tell me where they are, the sooner you will be returned to your people.”
“Why don’t you let me talk to my people first and then I’ll tell you what I know?”
He looked down again. “This child. It isn’t yours, obviously. But I wonder if you were willing to sacrifice it,” he said as he pointed the rifle at the cot. The muzzle was so close to child that he reached out for it with his tiny hands, mistaking it for a new toy.
Wenera took a quick step forward. “Don’t you dare.”
In a flash the rifle came back up, freezing her in mid step. “That’s what I thought. The Ait scum has completely corrupted you.”
“You won’t hurt him. He’s part Tia.”
An expression of disgust came over the soldier’s face. The rifle went back to threaten the child. “An abomination to the Brothers. It deserves to be killed.”
The man spotted the oil lamp flying towards him too late. He looked up at the last moment only to have the light-weight vessel smash into his face and covering it with burning hot oil.
He screamed in pain and stumbled backwards as he reached out for his face with both hands, the rifle remaining at his side, secured by a strap around his shoulder
Wenera didn’t think twice and launched herself at the man and they both fell backwards and into a wooden cabinet that was so feeble it fell apart almost instantly under their combined weight.
The soldier landed on his back with the doctor right on top of him.
While he tried to fumble for his handgun with one hand – the other still busy trying to unsuccessfully wipe the stinging liquid off his face – Wenera reached out for a plank of wood which had been part of the shattered wardrobe.
She smashed it over his face with such force it split.
The solider had given up on removing his handgun and instead tried to bring up his hand to stop her from hitting him again.
He wasn’t quite fast enough.
The broken piece of spiked wood came down again and lodged itself deep into the soft tissue of his adam’s apple. His throat and mouth erupted with warm blood, his eyes now wide open starred back at Wenera whose hands were still gripping the end of the spike.
She knew he was dead. All she had to decide was if to remove the spike and thereby quickening the inevitable or leaving him to a much slower and painful demise.
Only very slowly did the immensity of the situation catch up with her. She had just killed a man.
“Doctor?”
She turned to see Balik standing in the open doorway with two others. They all hand their guns drawn but Balik now gestured for them to put them away.
Wenera couldn’t move, couldn’t even get her fingers to unwrap themselves from the wooden pole.
Balik approached her carefully. “We have to get out of here. There’ll be more of them here soon.”
She nodded without being consciously aware of the gesture.
He carefully reached for her hands and removed them from the improvised weapon. Then he took the spike and dislodged it from the soldier’s throat, allowing the blood to flow freely.
Wenera looked down at the dying man. “I need to help him.”
“He’s dead,” he said and pulled her up onto her feet. She stood uneasy and it took a moment before he was confident enough in her own balance to let her go. “There’s nothing else you can do. Nothing else you could have done.”
But Wenera didn’t appear to be listening. He eyes remained fixed on her victim who refused to break eye contact with her.
Balik turned to one of his compatriots. “Take the child, we have to go.”
The man nodded and approached the cot.
“No,” said Wenera with such sudden intensity that it forced everyone in the room to glance her way. “No, I’ll take the child.”
Balilk nodded. “Fine. But let’s go. Now.”
Ashley Wenera moved over to the cot and pick up the boy. He seemed to be smiling at her when she took him into her arms, as if to say that everything was going to be just fine.
Wenera knew this not to be true. Not by a long shot.
