If the information is accurate... Yeah... this is going to hell in hand basket...
Nice tension building - Thanks!! rbs
Nice tension building - Thanks!! rbs
Star Trek: Bounty - 12 - "The Woman Who Cried, Among Other Things, Wolf"
- Thread starter BountyTrek
- Start date
Part Four (Cont'd)
Automated Sentry Point Gamma whirred into life as it detected the approaching vessel.
The sensor scans it was constantly performing on the surrounding space had detected the vessel a few minutes ago, but the sentry point had remained dormant until it had concluded that the ship’s trajectory was indeed an intercept course.
Once that had been ascertained, the small ovoid probe orbiting the nondescript planet below gently turned on its axis, and a small hatch opening in its smooth silvery surface, from which a small phaser array emerged.
At the same time, Automated Sentry Point Gamma sent a message to the other five sentry points in orbit of the moon at strategic geocentric points.
Automated Sentry Points Alpha, Delta and Zeta took no immediate action, after calculating that they would not be in firing range of the potentially hostile vessel based on its probable orbital insertion point. But Automated Sentry Points Beta and Epsilon both followed Gamma’s lead in arming and extending their phaser arrays.
And then they patiently waited for the unidentified ship to get closer.
As the vessel entered weapons range, Beta, Gamma and Epsilon all obediently targeted their phaser arrays at the threat, while Alpha, Delta and Zeta all set their own defensive systems to be ready to deploy at a moment’s notice, should their quarry attempt a last second course change.
And then, all of the sentries received a transmission from the approaching ship. A simple subspace handshake that contained a sequence of recognised codes.
The codes themselves were not the most up to date versions of the accepted protocols, but they were still within the accepted list stored within each sentry’s database. And it indicated that, far from being a hostile craft bearing down on them, the approaching vessel was a recognised ore carrier belonging to Synergy Mining Enterprises.
Granted, there was no scheduled ore pickup for this precise time on this exact day. But each sentry had a tolerance built in for that as well, given the sometimes unpredictable journey times the carriers had to take to avoid being tracked. Such an unscheduled arrival wasn’t unprecedented.
And so, with the code checking out and the arrival time within tolerances, each sentry point deemed that no action was necessary. The phaser arrays disappeared back inside Automated Sentry Points Beta, Gamma and Epsilon, and all six orbiting sentries returned to passive scan mode.
Moments later, the Bounty swung into orbit of the planet.
****************************
“Am I good, or am I good?”
Maya posed the question to nobody in particular as she, Jirel and Natasha stood in the middle of the Bounty’s cockpit, now all clad in their all-black gear.
For the sake of his own concerns, Klath couldn’t help but double check the situation from his own tactical console.
“All automated sentries have powered down,” he confirmed with a slightly surprised grunt.
Maya couldn’t help but glance over and flash the Klingon a satisfied smile.
“You know, you seemed a lot more trusting when we first met.”
“I was,” Klath responded, with no trace of mirth.
Jirel tore himself away from the view of the planet below them, and nodded at both Maya and Natasha, before setting off for the transporter room.
“Still a few more of your little tricks that need to work before we’re home and dry on this one,” he pointed out as he walked past Maya.
“They will,” she affirmed.
“Sunek,” Jirel continued as he reached the rear steps of the cockpit, “Move us to a geostationary orbit over the location of the duridium mine. And keep a close eye on those sentries.”
“Wasn’t planning on doing anything else,” the Vulcan responded, with only a fraction of his usual humour.
“And Denella,” Jirel continued, nodding at the Orion engineer, “Time for you to work your magic with that transporter. Get us through that dampening field.”
Denella nodded and stood from her own console. With that, Jirel started down the steps, only for Klath to call out.
“I still feel I should go down there with you.”
Jirel stopped himself and turned back to the Klingon, the glower on his face as dark as ever.
“I know,” he replied with a slight smile, “But we’ve been over this. This isn’t a battle. It’s subterfuge. And the less people we have down there, the better. Plus, who’s gonna shoot us out of trouble up here when things go south.”
Klath’s glower didn’t lift one iota.
“I do not like that plan.”
“I know you don’t. But still, it’s what we’re doing. And I need you up here. If anything moves while we’re gone, shoot it.”
“Unless it’s me,” Sunek chimed in from the pilot’s seat.
Jirel mustered a half-smile at Klath and shrugged his shoulders, nodding in the direction of the ever-talkative Vulcan.
“Weapons chief’s discretion.”
Despite his continued concerns about the content of Jirel and Maya’s plan, the corners of the Klingon’s mouth did curl up slightly at this comment. Instead of arguing further, an action he knew would be futile, he merely nodded back at his long-time colleague.
“Qapla'.”
Jirel nodded as well, then led the others down the steps and made their way to the transporter room, with Natasha alongside him.
“You know,” he sighed, “You don’t need to come down there either.”
“Neither do you,” she retorted immediately, “Pretty sure Maya said that she’d be happy to do this part of the plan alone.”
Jirel conceded that point, as she continued.
“Besides, unlike Klath, I’m not going to be doing anything all that useful up here. So, given that you always need backup whenever you do something this stupid, I may as well make myself useful down on the planet.”
Jirel couldn’t find a way to do anything other than concede that point as well. Secretly, he was very glad for the backup.
The group walked into the Bounty’s small transporter room and Jirel, Natasha and Maya stepped onto the pads, as Denella worked the controls.
“Ok,” the Orion nodded, “I’m matching the transporter harmonics to the dampening field. Gonna set you down as close to the range of the transport inhibitors as I can.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to set us down further away?” Maya queried, “Less chance of being seen when we arrive.”
“Given the range of the inhibitors, you’ll still have half a mile or so to get to the mining site,” Denella replied, “And given the atmospheric conditions, I’m gonna say you’ll want as short a hike as possible.”
Maya took those points on the chin and smiled at the Orion.
“You know, it really is nice to see you talking so much these days.”
Denella didn’t respond to that, and merely focused on completing her work. Realising that she wasn’t getting anything from the engineer, Maya looked over at her fellow black-clad team members instead.
“Well,” she offered with a knowing smile, “Let’s get this threesome started, shall we?”
Jirel’s latest grimace was only visible for a second, as the transporter effect began.
****************************
When Automated Sentry Point Gamma had first detected the unknown vessel approaching, it had run through all the usual defensive steps before the appropriate handshake had been received and it, along with the other orbital sentries, had powered down.
Each task had been carried out exactly as Automated Sentry Point Gamma’s programming had been designed to do, by a particularly keen weapons trader in the Kassik sector, where Synergy Mining Enterprises had acquired them.
But along with the litany of scheduled tasks to identify and assess a potential threat, Automated Sentry Point Gamma had also carried out an additional job, one that had not been covered by the original design specifications.
The additional piece of coding had been inserted long after the weapons trader had sold the sentries, and was designed to be hidden from the self-cleaning diagnostic tools contained within the original programming. And it was designed to do one single thing.
It transmitted a simple subspace message out to a predetermined reception point in close orbit around the fifth planet of the system.
A message that was hidden inside Automated Sentry Point Gamma’s regular series of programmed subspace pings, operating on a repeating cycle to keep it in near-constant contact with the other sentries in orbit. A message that, unless a seasoned subspace communications specialist knew what to look for, was entirely undetectable.
It was delivered to a vessel in orbit on the far side of the fifth planet, one that was using the vast magnetic and gravitational fields of the enormous gas giant to help render it equally undetectable to the Bounty’s sensors. And the message had been received loud and clear.
“You’re certain?”
The two figures standing in front of the vessel’s luxurious command chair nodded their heads in perfectly synchronised unison.
In truth, they were a little offended that he needed to ask the question. They had been sitting in orbit of the gas giant for several days now, waiting for this exact message from the only other device in the entire galaxy that knew where they were. The idea that they could have made a mistake was faintly ridiculous.
Still, it wasn’t the first time their competence had been questioned by their taskmaster of a commander. And it surely wouldn’t be the last.
Their commander seemed a little more satisfied with their affirmation, reclining in his seat as his face creased into an ugly grin.
“Excellent,” he sneered, “They’re precisely on schedule. Prepare our course. It's time for us to send our…reply.”
The two subordinates nodded again, then stepped over to the front of the ship’s bridge, slotting into the two forward consoles in perfect unison.
As they both got to work carrying out his latest orders, their fingers dancing across the controls in front of them, the man in the centre chair steepled his own fingers in front of him and allowed his smile to grow even wider.
The hunt was nearly over.
Automated Sentry Point Gamma whirred into life as it detected the approaching vessel.
The sensor scans it was constantly performing on the surrounding space had detected the vessel a few minutes ago, but the sentry point had remained dormant until it had concluded that the ship’s trajectory was indeed an intercept course.
Once that had been ascertained, the small ovoid probe orbiting the nondescript planet below gently turned on its axis, and a small hatch opening in its smooth silvery surface, from which a small phaser array emerged.
At the same time, Automated Sentry Point Gamma sent a message to the other five sentry points in orbit of the moon at strategic geocentric points.
Automated Sentry Points Alpha, Delta and Zeta took no immediate action, after calculating that they would not be in firing range of the potentially hostile vessel based on its probable orbital insertion point. But Automated Sentry Points Beta and Epsilon both followed Gamma’s lead in arming and extending their phaser arrays.
And then they patiently waited for the unidentified ship to get closer.
As the vessel entered weapons range, Beta, Gamma and Epsilon all obediently targeted their phaser arrays at the threat, while Alpha, Delta and Zeta all set their own defensive systems to be ready to deploy at a moment’s notice, should their quarry attempt a last second course change.
And then, all of the sentries received a transmission from the approaching ship. A simple subspace handshake that contained a sequence of recognised codes.
The codes themselves were not the most up to date versions of the accepted protocols, but they were still within the accepted list stored within each sentry’s database. And it indicated that, far from being a hostile craft bearing down on them, the approaching vessel was a recognised ore carrier belonging to Synergy Mining Enterprises.
Granted, there was no scheduled ore pickup for this precise time on this exact day. But each sentry had a tolerance built in for that as well, given the sometimes unpredictable journey times the carriers had to take to avoid being tracked. Such an unscheduled arrival wasn’t unprecedented.
And so, with the code checking out and the arrival time within tolerances, each sentry point deemed that no action was necessary. The phaser arrays disappeared back inside Automated Sentry Points Beta, Gamma and Epsilon, and all six orbiting sentries returned to passive scan mode.
Moments later, the Bounty swung into orbit of the planet.
****************************
“Am I good, or am I good?”
Maya posed the question to nobody in particular as she, Jirel and Natasha stood in the middle of the Bounty’s cockpit, now all clad in their all-black gear.
For the sake of his own concerns, Klath couldn’t help but double check the situation from his own tactical console.
“All automated sentries have powered down,” he confirmed with a slightly surprised grunt.
Maya couldn’t help but glance over and flash the Klingon a satisfied smile.
“You know, you seemed a lot more trusting when we first met.”
“I was,” Klath responded, with no trace of mirth.
Jirel tore himself away from the view of the planet below them, and nodded at both Maya and Natasha, before setting off for the transporter room.
“Still a few more of your little tricks that need to work before we’re home and dry on this one,” he pointed out as he walked past Maya.
“They will,” she affirmed.
“Sunek,” Jirel continued as he reached the rear steps of the cockpit, “Move us to a geostationary orbit over the location of the duridium mine. And keep a close eye on those sentries.”
“Wasn’t planning on doing anything else,” the Vulcan responded, with only a fraction of his usual humour.
“And Denella,” Jirel continued, nodding at the Orion engineer, “Time for you to work your magic with that transporter. Get us through that dampening field.”
Denella nodded and stood from her own console. With that, Jirel started down the steps, only for Klath to call out.
“I still feel I should go down there with you.”
Jirel stopped himself and turned back to the Klingon, the glower on his face as dark as ever.
“I know,” he replied with a slight smile, “But we’ve been over this. This isn’t a battle. It’s subterfuge. And the less people we have down there, the better. Plus, who’s gonna shoot us out of trouble up here when things go south.”
Klath’s glower didn’t lift one iota.
“I do not like that plan.”
“I know you don’t. But still, it’s what we’re doing. And I need you up here. If anything moves while we’re gone, shoot it.”
“Unless it’s me,” Sunek chimed in from the pilot’s seat.
Jirel mustered a half-smile at Klath and shrugged his shoulders, nodding in the direction of the ever-talkative Vulcan.
“Weapons chief’s discretion.”
Despite his continued concerns about the content of Jirel and Maya’s plan, the corners of the Klingon’s mouth did curl up slightly at this comment. Instead of arguing further, an action he knew would be futile, he merely nodded back at his long-time colleague.
“Qapla'.”
Jirel nodded as well, then led the others down the steps and made their way to the transporter room, with Natasha alongside him.
“You know,” he sighed, “You don’t need to come down there either.”
“Neither do you,” she retorted immediately, “Pretty sure Maya said that she’d be happy to do this part of the plan alone.”
Jirel conceded that point, as she continued.
“Besides, unlike Klath, I’m not going to be doing anything all that useful up here. So, given that you always need backup whenever you do something this stupid, I may as well make myself useful down on the planet.”
Jirel couldn’t find a way to do anything other than concede that point as well. Secretly, he was very glad for the backup.
The group walked into the Bounty’s small transporter room and Jirel, Natasha and Maya stepped onto the pads, as Denella worked the controls.
“Ok,” the Orion nodded, “I’m matching the transporter harmonics to the dampening field. Gonna set you down as close to the range of the transport inhibitors as I can.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to set us down further away?” Maya queried, “Less chance of being seen when we arrive.”
“Given the range of the inhibitors, you’ll still have half a mile or so to get to the mining site,” Denella replied, “And given the atmospheric conditions, I’m gonna say you’ll want as short a hike as possible.”
Maya took those points on the chin and smiled at the Orion.
“You know, it really is nice to see you talking so much these days.”
Denella didn’t respond to that, and merely focused on completing her work. Realising that she wasn’t getting anything from the engineer, Maya looked over at her fellow black-clad team members instead.
“Well,” she offered with a knowing smile, “Let’s get this threesome started, shall we?”
Jirel’s latest grimace was only visible for a second, as the transporter effect began.
****************************
When Automated Sentry Point Gamma had first detected the unknown vessel approaching, it had run through all the usual defensive steps before the appropriate handshake had been received and it, along with the other orbital sentries, had powered down.
Each task had been carried out exactly as Automated Sentry Point Gamma’s programming had been designed to do, by a particularly keen weapons trader in the Kassik sector, where Synergy Mining Enterprises had acquired them.
But along with the litany of scheduled tasks to identify and assess a potential threat, Automated Sentry Point Gamma had also carried out an additional job, one that had not been covered by the original design specifications.
The additional piece of coding had been inserted long after the weapons trader had sold the sentries, and was designed to be hidden from the self-cleaning diagnostic tools contained within the original programming. And it was designed to do one single thing.
It transmitted a simple subspace message out to a predetermined reception point in close orbit around the fifth planet of the system.
A message that was hidden inside Automated Sentry Point Gamma’s regular series of programmed subspace pings, operating on a repeating cycle to keep it in near-constant contact with the other sentries in orbit. A message that, unless a seasoned subspace communications specialist knew what to look for, was entirely undetectable.
It was delivered to a vessel in orbit on the far side of the fifth planet, one that was using the vast magnetic and gravitational fields of the enormous gas giant to help render it equally undetectable to the Bounty’s sensors. And the message had been received loud and clear.
“You’re certain?”
The two figures standing in front of the vessel’s luxurious command chair nodded their heads in perfectly synchronised unison.
In truth, they were a little offended that he needed to ask the question. They had been sitting in orbit of the gas giant for several days now, waiting for this exact message from the only other device in the entire galaxy that knew where they were. The idea that they could have made a mistake was faintly ridiculous.
Still, it wasn’t the first time their competence had been questioned by their taskmaster of a commander. And it surely wouldn’t be the last.
Their commander seemed a little more satisfied with their affirmation, reclining in his seat as his face creased into an ugly grin.
“Excellent,” he sneered, “They’re precisely on schedule. Prepare our course. It's time for us to send our…reply.”
The two subordinates nodded again, then stepped over to the front of the ship’s bridge, slotting into the two forward consoles in perfect unison.
As they both got to work carrying out his latest orders, their fingers dancing across the controls in front of them, the man in the centre chair steepled his own fingers in front of him and allowed his smile to grow even wider.
The hunt was nearly over.
And the double-cross is underway... Nice rising action sequence - Thanks!! rbs
Part Four (Cont'd)
The trio of back-clad figures walked in close formation across the dusty surface of the planet. At least for the time being, there was nothing in sight apart from an endless landscape of dirty brown and rusty red rocks. There was no sign of plant or animal life anywhere.
Natasha held one of the Bounty’s ageing stash of tricorders in her hand, doing her best to try and make sense of the short-range readings through the cacophony of interference in place around their target. Alongside her, Jirel clutched a stout disruptor pistol, while Maya was visibly unarmed, keeping her focus on the ground beneath her feet.
They were halfway up the side of the barren hillside that stood between them and the apparent location of the duridium mine in the next valley. And all three were breathing heavily from their ongoing exertions.
Denella had been right about wanting to keep the hike as short as possible. Although the incline of the hillside was relatively gentle, the Class L conditions were turning it into a punishing ascent.
Technically, such a celestial body was habitable for most humanoids. But barely so. Living conditions on a Class-L planet teetered on the edge of what was possible to survive.
They were not necessarily in any immediate danger. Although Natasha had noted that the atmosphere contained potentially toxic levels of carbon dioxide for both humans and Trills, it would only become an issue with long-term exposure.
Still, despite that fact, and the healthy shot of stimulants Natasha had given each of them back on the Bounty to help with the lower oxygen levels, they were all definitely feeling the effects, and progress was proving to be slow. To Jirel, climbing this incline felt like trying to run a marathon after smoking a crate of Yridian cigars.
They pressed on, taking tired breaths as they did so, as Natasha checked their progress on her tricorder.
“We’re inside the range of the transport inhibitors now,” she reported.
Jirel tried not to focus on the knot in his stomach that developed on hearing that. Knowing that, from this point on until they get safely back outside the invisible field in question, they were completely on their own.
Natasha continued her report as she tapped the device in her hand.
“It definitely looks like there’s a valley up ahead,” she panted, “I’m also scanning heavy deposits of duridium all around. So I guess this is our mine.”
“Lifesigns?” Jirel coughed.
“Those as well. But there’s too much interference to be any clearer on who.”
“As soon as you spot a Trill, let us know,” Maya replied from Jirel’s other side, “Hopefully Toren will be somewhere we can easily get to.”
Jirel paused for a second and looked up at the rest of the ascent ahead of them. Although the slope remained gentle all the way to the top, they were still barely halfway up.
“Nice place,” he coughed sarcastically as he started moving again.
Natasha silently agreed with him as they pressed on, while Maya glanced over at the Trill.
“Reminds me of that time we wound up on that planetoid in the Landos system. We were meeting with those Tzenkethi traders to exchange our cargo of duranium alloy for…ugh, what was it?”
Jirel stifled a grunt of exertion and sucked in another lungful of thin air before he reluctantly answered her query.
“Plasma regulators.”
“Ah yes,” Maya nodded with a wry smile, “A bunch of filthy plasma regulators. A fine treasure, indeed.”
“Yeah, well, seemed like a good deal at the time. Especially when you told me you knew a group of Ferengi salvage merchants in the next system who paid good money for reusable spare parts.”
Maya nodded at this, and despite himself Jirel found it was easy to fall back into familiar conversation. At the very least, it was distracting him from the punishing climb.
“We didn’t bring any breathing equipment with us then, either,” Maya offered in Natasha’s direction by way of explanation, “And the Tzenkethi were late. We almost ended up suffocating down there, because someone was too stubborn to give up and leave, and thought that he could brave it out.”
She nodded in Jirel’s direction. The Trill offered a slightly embarrassed shrug.
“I was young back then.”
“And you’re old now,” she replied with a faint cutting edge, “But you still haven’t invested in any breathing equipment.”
He couldn’t help but allow his face to crease into a full smile as he shook his head, as the two old friends, lovers, colleagues and adversaries settled further into their old back-and-forth ways.
“Well, whenever I get the latinum together to afford it, I have to pay off another instalment of my debt to you, don’t I?”
“Huh. I guess you never did have a way with finances, did you?”
“Hey, I put in my share when we bought the Bounty. Fifty-fifty.”
“More like eighty-twenty, darling.”
Natasha remained silent and listened as the pair continued to bicker like an old married couple as the ascent continued. She wasn’t entirely amused by their banter. In fact, she found that she was more concerned.
She was embarrassed to admit that part of her concern stemmed from a sliver of Jirel-esque jealousy she was beginning to cultivate as the Trill grew closer to the other woman, something that she was determined she would deal with later as soon as she located an affordable therapist.
But the major part of her concern was around the untrustworthiness of the woman he was growing closer to. A woman that had already led them into danger at least twice since she had arrived onboard.
And one that was leading them deeper into danger with every step.
****************************
The silence of the Bounty’s cockpit was suddenly filled by a new sound.
Sunek impatiently drummed his fingers on the surface of his pilot’s controls, causing Klath to grimace slightly in frustration. Once again, the Vulcan seemed to be finding the most efficient means to irritate him as he was trying to remain focused on his sensor readings.
Not that Sunek was doing it on purpose. He just hated silence.
“So,” he said eventually, “If something goes wrong down there, and we can’t beam them out through the inhibitors, do we—?”
“We wait,” Klath replied immediately. There was no other answer.
“And if something goes wrong up here?”
“We fight.”
Sunek drummed his fingers a little faster. Not that he hadn’t been expecting those responses, but the frankness of the Klingon’s replies did little to ease his inner tension. He stared out the window at the dirty rock below them, though his eye was inevitably drawn to the silver twinkling sentry, just about visible some distance off their bow.
A slight shiver passed down the Vulcan’s spine at the sight of Automated Sentry Point Epsilon. Not that he knew that was the name of it.
“For how long?” he found himself asking Klath as a follow-up query.
This time, there was a slight pause. The Klingon looked up from his weapons controls to glare at the back of the Vulcan’s tousle-haired head. There was no uncertainty when his answer came.
“For as long as it takes.”
“Yeah,” Sunek muttered, not turning back around, “That was what I was afraid of.”
Klath grunted and returned his attention to his controls, as Sunek kept his focus on the twinkling form of the sentry.
Another silence descended. One that felt even more excruciating than the last as far as the Bounty’s pilot was concerned.
“Can we at least put the shields up?” he asked eventually.
Klath suppressed his latest frustrated growl at the latest of the Vulcan’s persistent interruptions and looked up again.
“No,” he growled, “There are no immediate threats in our present position, and we must be ready to beam Jirel and the others back aboard as soon as they emerge from the transport inhibitors down on the surface.”
“No immediate threats? I’m staring at one right now.”
Sunek backed up his comment by gesturing at Automated Sentry Point Epsilon in the distance. Klath shook his head.
“Based on what we saw during our approach, it takes the sentries some 6.7 seconds to activate and secure a weapons lock. That will be enough time for us to respond, provided we remain alert.”
Sunek muttered something unintelligible under his breath, before he mustered a proper reply to the Klingon.
“Yeah, ok, fine,” he sighed, “I get it. It’s just…that thing’s really starting to creep me out.”
“Then perhaps you should focus on assisting me. You will be able to access the ship’s sensor readings from your console.”
Sunek was confronted with a dilemma. On the one hand, he definitely needed something to distract him from the unnerving sight of the sentry. But on the other hand, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that distraction to actually involve work. Eventually, he succumbed to the inevitable, and called up the sensor readings.
And for a moment, silence returned. For a moment.
“Just feels like it’s watching us—”
“It is not watching you, Sunek,” Klath grunted with obvious frustration.
The Vulcan glanced back up from his console and caught sight of the sentry again.
It definitely felt like it was watching them.
****************************
Denella stood behind the transporter controls, not wanting to risk leaving her post for a second.
It was entirely likely that she had time to leave for a few seconds. Or even to route transporter controls up to her console in the cockpit. At least that way, she could keep an eye on the rest of the Bounty’s systems if necessary. But something about the elevated stakes of their current situation meant that it didn’t feel right for her to walk away from her post.
She kept her attention on the readouts in front of her, scanning the boundary of the transport inhibitor zone for the first signs of the others emerging safely. There was no way of knowing how long that would take, but she still wasn’t moving.
It had been an hour since they had disappeared inside the last line of defence that Synergy Mining Enterprises had installed. But it felt like twice that. And even though she had no idea exactly what they were having to do to find Toren, it definitely felt like it was talking too long.
Still, no matter how long it was going to take, she was prepared to wait.
Just as she had done back at Hexis Spaceport all those years ago, on another of Maya’s wild goose chases, she knew that there was always time.
There had to be.
She chewed her lip with worry and considered calling up to the cockpit to check in with Klath and Sunek. But she knew they would both be focused on their own jobs.
Then, she saw something flare up on the readouts.
But it wasn’t what she had been expecting. In fact, it was something that caused an instant rush of panic inside her.
The details were clear. The frequencies of the dampening field that they had been able to beam through thanks to Maya’s information had changed. The parameters that she had used to beam Jirel, Natasha and Maya down to the surface were now useless.
She knew it would take her days, possibly weeks to try and isolate the new frequencies. And until then, they were trapped down there. But despite the plight of the others, that wasn’t her most immediate concern.
It was obvious that what just happened wasn’t any sort of scheduled change. Someone had altered the frequencies manually.
Which meant that someone knew they were here.
She reached out for the controls to open a comms link up to the cockpit, but her hand never made it to the button.
Because then the first shot slammed into the Bounty’s exposed hull.
The trio of back-clad figures walked in close formation across the dusty surface of the planet. At least for the time being, there was nothing in sight apart from an endless landscape of dirty brown and rusty red rocks. There was no sign of plant or animal life anywhere.
Natasha held one of the Bounty’s ageing stash of tricorders in her hand, doing her best to try and make sense of the short-range readings through the cacophony of interference in place around their target. Alongside her, Jirel clutched a stout disruptor pistol, while Maya was visibly unarmed, keeping her focus on the ground beneath her feet.
They were halfway up the side of the barren hillside that stood between them and the apparent location of the duridium mine in the next valley. And all three were breathing heavily from their ongoing exertions.
Denella had been right about wanting to keep the hike as short as possible. Although the incline of the hillside was relatively gentle, the Class L conditions were turning it into a punishing ascent.
Technically, such a celestial body was habitable for most humanoids. But barely so. Living conditions on a Class-L planet teetered on the edge of what was possible to survive.
They were not necessarily in any immediate danger. Although Natasha had noted that the atmosphere contained potentially toxic levels of carbon dioxide for both humans and Trills, it would only become an issue with long-term exposure.
Still, despite that fact, and the healthy shot of stimulants Natasha had given each of them back on the Bounty to help with the lower oxygen levels, they were all definitely feeling the effects, and progress was proving to be slow. To Jirel, climbing this incline felt like trying to run a marathon after smoking a crate of Yridian cigars.
They pressed on, taking tired breaths as they did so, as Natasha checked their progress on her tricorder.
“We’re inside the range of the transport inhibitors now,” she reported.
Jirel tried not to focus on the knot in his stomach that developed on hearing that. Knowing that, from this point on until they get safely back outside the invisible field in question, they were completely on their own.
Natasha continued her report as she tapped the device in her hand.
“It definitely looks like there’s a valley up ahead,” she panted, “I’m also scanning heavy deposits of duridium all around. So I guess this is our mine.”
“Lifesigns?” Jirel coughed.
“Those as well. But there’s too much interference to be any clearer on who.”
“As soon as you spot a Trill, let us know,” Maya replied from Jirel’s other side, “Hopefully Toren will be somewhere we can easily get to.”
Jirel paused for a second and looked up at the rest of the ascent ahead of them. Although the slope remained gentle all the way to the top, they were still barely halfway up.
“Nice place,” he coughed sarcastically as he started moving again.
Natasha silently agreed with him as they pressed on, while Maya glanced over at the Trill.
“Reminds me of that time we wound up on that planetoid in the Landos system. We were meeting with those Tzenkethi traders to exchange our cargo of duranium alloy for…ugh, what was it?”
Jirel stifled a grunt of exertion and sucked in another lungful of thin air before he reluctantly answered her query.
“Plasma regulators.”
“Ah yes,” Maya nodded with a wry smile, “A bunch of filthy plasma regulators. A fine treasure, indeed.”
“Yeah, well, seemed like a good deal at the time. Especially when you told me you knew a group of Ferengi salvage merchants in the next system who paid good money for reusable spare parts.”
Maya nodded at this, and despite himself Jirel found it was easy to fall back into familiar conversation. At the very least, it was distracting him from the punishing climb.
“We didn’t bring any breathing equipment with us then, either,” Maya offered in Natasha’s direction by way of explanation, “And the Tzenkethi were late. We almost ended up suffocating down there, because someone was too stubborn to give up and leave, and thought that he could brave it out.”
She nodded in Jirel’s direction. The Trill offered a slightly embarrassed shrug.
“I was young back then.”
“And you’re old now,” she replied with a faint cutting edge, “But you still haven’t invested in any breathing equipment.”
He couldn’t help but allow his face to crease into a full smile as he shook his head, as the two old friends, lovers, colleagues and adversaries settled further into their old back-and-forth ways.
“Well, whenever I get the latinum together to afford it, I have to pay off another instalment of my debt to you, don’t I?”
“Huh. I guess you never did have a way with finances, did you?”
“Hey, I put in my share when we bought the Bounty. Fifty-fifty.”
“More like eighty-twenty, darling.”
Natasha remained silent and listened as the pair continued to bicker like an old married couple as the ascent continued. She wasn’t entirely amused by their banter. In fact, she found that she was more concerned.
She was embarrassed to admit that part of her concern stemmed from a sliver of Jirel-esque jealousy she was beginning to cultivate as the Trill grew closer to the other woman, something that she was determined she would deal with later as soon as she located an affordable therapist.
But the major part of her concern was around the untrustworthiness of the woman he was growing closer to. A woman that had already led them into danger at least twice since she had arrived onboard.
And one that was leading them deeper into danger with every step.
****************************
The silence of the Bounty’s cockpit was suddenly filled by a new sound.
Sunek impatiently drummed his fingers on the surface of his pilot’s controls, causing Klath to grimace slightly in frustration. Once again, the Vulcan seemed to be finding the most efficient means to irritate him as he was trying to remain focused on his sensor readings.
Not that Sunek was doing it on purpose. He just hated silence.
“So,” he said eventually, “If something goes wrong down there, and we can’t beam them out through the inhibitors, do we—?”
“We wait,” Klath replied immediately. There was no other answer.
“And if something goes wrong up here?”
“We fight.”
Sunek drummed his fingers a little faster. Not that he hadn’t been expecting those responses, but the frankness of the Klingon’s replies did little to ease his inner tension. He stared out the window at the dirty rock below them, though his eye was inevitably drawn to the silver twinkling sentry, just about visible some distance off their bow.
A slight shiver passed down the Vulcan’s spine at the sight of Automated Sentry Point Epsilon. Not that he knew that was the name of it.
“For how long?” he found himself asking Klath as a follow-up query.
This time, there was a slight pause. The Klingon looked up from his weapons controls to glare at the back of the Vulcan’s tousle-haired head. There was no uncertainty when his answer came.
“For as long as it takes.”
“Yeah,” Sunek muttered, not turning back around, “That was what I was afraid of.”
Klath grunted and returned his attention to his controls, as Sunek kept his focus on the twinkling form of the sentry.
Another silence descended. One that felt even more excruciating than the last as far as the Bounty’s pilot was concerned.
“Can we at least put the shields up?” he asked eventually.
Klath suppressed his latest frustrated growl at the latest of the Vulcan’s persistent interruptions and looked up again.
“No,” he growled, “There are no immediate threats in our present position, and we must be ready to beam Jirel and the others back aboard as soon as they emerge from the transport inhibitors down on the surface.”
“No immediate threats? I’m staring at one right now.”
Sunek backed up his comment by gesturing at Automated Sentry Point Epsilon in the distance. Klath shook his head.
“Based on what we saw during our approach, it takes the sentries some 6.7 seconds to activate and secure a weapons lock. That will be enough time for us to respond, provided we remain alert.”
Sunek muttered something unintelligible under his breath, before he mustered a proper reply to the Klingon.
“Yeah, ok, fine,” he sighed, “I get it. It’s just…that thing’s really starting to creep me out.”
“Then perhaps you should focus on assisting me. You will be able to access the ship’s sensor readings from your console.”
Sunek was confronted with a dilemma. On the one hand, he definitely needed something to distract him from the unnerving sight of the sentry. But on the other hand, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that distraction to actually involve work. Eventually, he succumbed to the inevitable, and called up the sensor readings.
And for a moment, silence returned. For a moment.
“Just feels like it’s watching us—”
“It is not watching you, Sunek,” Klath grunted with obvious frustration.
The Vulcan glanced back up from his console and caught sight of the sentry again.
It definitely felt like it was watching them.
****************************
Denella stood behind the transporter controls, not wanting to risk leaving her post for a second.
It was entirely likely that she had time to leave for a few seconds. Or even to route transporter controls up to her console in the cockpit. At least that way, she could keep an eye on the rest of the Bounty’s systems if necessary. But something about the elevated stakes of their current situation meant that it didn’t feel right for her to walk away from her post.
She kept her attention on the readouts in front of her, scanning the boundary of the transport inhibitor zone for the first signs of the others emerging safely. There was no way of knowing how long that would take, but she still wasn’t moving.
It had been an hour since they had disappeared inside the last line of defence that Synergy Mining Enterprises had installed. But it felt like twice that. And even though she had no idea exactly what they were having to do to find Toren, it definitely felt like it was talking too long.
Still, no matter how long it was going to take, she was prepared to wait.
Just as she had done back at Hexis Spaceport all those years ago, on another of Maya’s wild goose chases, she knew that there was always time.
There had to be.
She chewed her lip with worry and considered calling up to the cockpit to check in with Klath and Sunek. But she knew they would both be focused on their own jobs.
Then, she saw something flare up on the readouts.
But it wasn’t what she had been expecting. In fact, it was something that caused an instant rush of panic inside her.
The details were clear. The frequencies of the dampening field that they had been able to beam through thanks to Maya’s information had changed. The parameters that she had used to beam Jirel, Natasha and Maya down to the surface were now useless.
She knew it would take her days, possibly weeks to try and isolate the new frequencies. And until then, they were trapped down there. But despite the plight of the others, that wasn’t her most immediate concern.
It was obvious that what just happened wasn’t any sort of scheduled change. Someone had altered the frequencies manually.
Which meant that someone knew they were here.
She reached out for the controls to open a comms link up to the cockpit, but her hand never made it to the button.
Because then the first shot slammed into the Bounty’s exposed hull.
More nice rising action, building the tension. Good character studies... Thanks!! rbs
Part Four (Cont'd)
“Remind me to leave a bad review for this place when we get back.”
Jirel’s quip was delivered through wheezing breaths, without any of his usual pep. At his side, Natasha could tell the Class-L conditions were affecting the Trill more than the two humans in the group, despite the shot of stims. Though the good news was that they were nearly at the top of the hill.
Jirel had holstered his disruptor back on his belt for the time being, as he was being forced to occasionally use his hands to scramble up the rocks ahead of them. But he was still gamely keeping pace.
Eventually, they reached the top and stepped across the peak to gaze down into the expanse of the valley below.
“Well,” Maya observed, “I’d say this is the place.”
Some distance below them, they saw the mining site itself. The valley was dominated by a vast dome-shaped building constructed from a silvery metal, presumably housing habitation and processing facilities for the whole area.
Dotted around the rest of the valley were dozens of figures, some clearly working on the various rock faces with lasers and cutting equipment, some hauling anti-grav units filled with duridium ore back to the dome, and others keeping watch over them. It was clear, even from this distance, which were the miners and which were the guards.
Jirel grabbed a small set of binoculars from his belt and held them up to his eyes, scanning around the figures from afar.
“We should hold back for now,” Maya offered, “Try and sneak a little closer using the rocks as cover and try to locate Toren. Then we just need to wait for a shift change to distract the guards and keep them away from the miners.”
“They look more like prisoners,” Natasha muttered as she tapped her tricorder.
“Same difference,” Maya responded with a shrug, “As far as the good people at Synergy are concerned.”
Natasha suppressed the immediate chill that passed down her spine at that, and kept her focus on scanning the valley’s population as best she could through all the inhibitors.
Jirel completed another quick scan through the binoculars. There was something wrong about the scene, even from this range, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“You sure we’ll have time at the shift change?” he asked Maya, dropping the binoculars and turning back to her.
“Pretty sure. They’ll leave the miners to themselves for that. After all, where exactly are they going to run to?”
She gestured around at their grim surroundings, and Jirel nodded.
“Ok,” he sighed after another lungful of thin air that didn’t come close to dealing with his increasing feeling of breathlessness, “I guess in the meantime, we need to—”
“Jirel,” Natasha cut in, with some urgency, “This isn’t right.”
He whirled around to her, as she gestured to the tricorder. The look of concern that was etched onto her face was enough for him to instantly tense up.
“I’m not scanning any Trill lifesigns down there,” she confirmed.
“The interference?”
“No,” she shook her head, “Not at this short range. I’m picking up every lifeform in the valley, and none of them are even part-Trill.”
Jirel’s expression hardened in an instant. Without even stopping to think, he grabbed the communicator from his belt and barked into it.
“Denella! Get us the hell out of here!”
There was no response, aside from a burst of static.
“Denella!” he called out again. Still nothing.
In anger, he whirled back around to the other woman in the group.
“Goddamnit, Maya. What have you—?”
He stopped immediately when he saw the familiar sight of the antique type-1 phaser being pointed directly at him and Natasha.
“Never leave home without it,” Maya said, her face a picture of serenity despite the sudden change in circumstances.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jirel spat out.
“Come on, darling,” she offered back, “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but you know that things were never going to be quite what they seemed with me, hmm? Now, drop the communicator. And drop your tricorder as well please, my dear.”
She gestured to Natasha’s tricorder. Jirel grimaced further, feeling entirely helpless, but nodded back at his crewmate as he dropped the communicator to the ground. Natasha’s tricorder followed with a clattering sound.
“What’s going on?” Natasha managed to ask.
“Jirel’s probably figured it out by now,” Maya shrugged, “Even he tends to get there eventually.”
The Trill ignored the latest casual insult and spat out his response.
“This whole thing was a goddamn setup. Again. Another of Maya Ortega’s traps. There never was a husband to rescue, was there?”
“Jirel, please,” Maya sighed, “You have to understand that—”
“Who are you working for now? What the hell have you gotten us into this time?”
“This was all business. I’m just doing what I had to do. The husband might have been made up, but the debt I owed Synergy Mining Enterprises was real.”
“You,” Jirel muttered with a shake of his head, “You were trying to screw the company over, all by yourself.”
“And it very nearly worked. But, even when things went wrong, I was fortunate enough to be able to come to an agreement. You see, it turned out the new owner knew somebody that owed him considerably more than I did…”
Jirel felt a cold rush of dread inside as she spoke. And something that he’d seen down in the valley suddenly twigged with him.
That was what had been wrong.
All of the guards had been Miradorn.
Feeling a sinking feeling growing inside, he looked back at a shocked and confused Natasha. And he realised how stupid he had been. Once again, he had been suckered in by Maya Ortega. He had allowed her to spin him a tall tale, and seduce him into bed. And he had allowed her to take him in entirely with the promise of a heroic adventure for the wannabe swashbuckling captain.
And not only had he fallen for it again, but he had brought the rest of the Bounty’s crew down with him. Including Natasha.
“I’m sorry,” he managed.
“For what—?”
She didn’t get any further before the transporter effect sounded out. The three figures turned to see three new forms coalescing a short distance away.
Natasha didn’t recognise any of them. But Jirel already knew who it would be before the familiar leer from the shorter of the three figures finished forming, and he opened his mouth.
“Hello, Jirel.”
“No hard feelings, darling,” Maya offered from behind him, “But, then again, you did promise to help me…”
****************************
Denella staggered up the steps to the Bounty’s cockpit even as the ship was pitched into another sickening angle by the impact of another hit.
The cockpit was in chaos. The air was thick with smoke from dozens of failing systems. All hell had broken loose.
In the pilot’s seat, Sunek grappled with the controls, trying to keep the Bounty away from the volley of fire that was raining down on them.
The surprise nature of the attack meant that he was only being partly successful. The ship was already crippled badly, with several ugly gouges and scorch marks peppering the Bounty’s long-suffering hull.
The venerable Ju’Day-type raider, veteran of a thousand firefights, was bleeding from multiple wounds.
Klath, bleeding from a wound of his own across his forehead, was wrestling with his own console helplessly, trying to return fire as best he could.
The whole cockpit was dimmed, with dark red emergency lighting the only thing that was illuminating the scene. Smoke was pouring from a ruptured power conduit in the ceiling, while the Bounty’s fire suppression systems were struggling to cope with an inferno that had broken out across Natasha’s unmanned station.
Denella dragged herself to her own console, fighting against the ship’s erratic pitching and turning, as she tried to understand what was going on.
“The orbital sentries?” she called out through the choking smoke.
“No,” Klath called back, “Another ship. It dropped out of warp, already launching micro-torpedoes. They must have disguised their approach somehow.”
“First hit knocked out our warp drive,” Sunek cried out, “I’m doing my best, but we’re sitting ducks here!”
Denella caught a brief glimpse of the ship through the cockpit window as Sunek swivelled the Bounty away from a disruptor blast.
It was an ovoid design, not much larger than the Bounty, with stubby warp nacelles branching off from either side towards the rear of the body of the vessel. Not a ship type that she had ever seen before, but it almost looked like a private yacht. Albeit a very heavily armoured one, with twin pincer-like prongs at the front containing deadly disruptors.
A fresh alarm blared out amidst the cacophony, as Denella did her best to check on the damage they had already picked up.
The ship rocked from another impact. Sunek’s efforts at the pilot’s controls were becoming less and less useful. The expert pilot was hamstrung by the crippling damage to the ship. There was a desperation to his movements, and a sluggishness to the ship’s responses.
“Weapons are offline!” Klath called out, “We must reroute power!”
“I’m working on it,” Denella shouted back, though she could already see that there was little power left to reroute.
Another burst of green disruptor fire flared out at them. Sunek managed to avoid the first one, but the second hit home on the bow of the ship, cutting into the exposed hull and pitching them into an unnatural dive.
Denella was thrown to the ground. Klath clung onto his console for dear life. Several more alarms and alerts flared up.
“Warning,” the Bounty’s computer chimed out, “Hull breach in cargo bay.”
Tasting blood in her mouth, Denella forced herself back into her seat and checked the latest damage reports, even as Sunek wrestled for control of the ship.
“We’re venting atmosphere!” she cried out, “Hull integrity is going critical and the shield emitters are fried! I’m sending everything we’ve got left to the impulse drive and thruster control!”
“I need weapons,” Klath bellowed, “We must disable them!”
“I can give you a couple of phaser blasts. Wouldn’t make a dent in their shields.”
“Who the hell are they?” Sunek griped, as he feverishly spun the ship away from the ovoid yacht’s latest attack.
Nobody had an answer for that.
The noxious air became even more toxic as a relay exploded above Klath’s console, showering him with fiery sparks and causing half of his console to blink out.
“I’ve lost navigational sensors!” Sunek shouted out, “Can’t get her stable!”
The Bounty pitched and groaned around them, like a mortally wounded animal straining against the spears in its side. Smoke billowed forth from the ugly hole in the rear of the ship where the cargo bay was now exposed to the harsh vacuum outside.
Just as Sunek tried to get the ship back under some sort of control, a further disruptor blast coursed out from one of the pincer-like prongs at the front of the unidentified ship. There was nothing anyone could do to avoid it.
It impacted on the underside of the crippled vessel’s hull, ripping a hole clean through the protective metal. In an instant, half the remaining systems onboard collapsed under the latest wave of punishment.
The entire ship convulsed from the ferocity of the impact, the superstructure itself sounding like it was whining in agony.
The Bounty tumbled away, mortally crippled.
Sunek was thrown clear of the pilot’s seat, just as the entire right side of his console exploded.
Denella cried out as she was slammed to the ground. A sickening crunch sounded out above the rest of the carnage as she hit the deck and fell silent.
Klath was flung from behind his console, flying across the cockpit and onto the ground, narrowly avoiding landing on the vacant centre chair as he did so. He took the full force of the landing on his right shoulder, but he forced himself to bear the pain and remain conscious.
Emergency power breathed its last as the ship’s own lifesigns ebbed away, and the cockpit was plunged into darkness, acrid smoke still filling the air from dozens of fried components.
The Bounty was dead.
The Klingon growled with agony as he crawled across the deck, past Sunek’s unmoving form, to the wrecked pilot’s controls.
He had no idea where their enemy was, or how long it would take them to finish them off, but he knew he wasn’t about to die on the deck of his ship.
Through the window, he could see the planet below them looming ever larger. Out of control, they were now spiralling into the atmosphere. He fought against the forces that were pushing him down and clambered into the pilot’s seat, grasping desperately at the controls in front of them.
He wrestled with the console to try and extract any remaining battery power out of the shattered ship to arrest their uncontrolled descent. Even though it might have been useless, he knew he had to at least try.
Behind him, his two colleagues lay prone and unmoving amongst the carnage.
In front of him, the solid ground of the Class-L planet loomed larger.
Klath gritted his teeth, and couldn’t help but wonder one thing.
Whether today was going to be a good day to die.
End of Part Four
“Remind me to leave a bad review for this place when we get back.”
Jirel’s quip was delivered through wheezing breaths, without any of his usual pep. At his side, Natasha could tell the Class-L conditions were affecting the Trill more than the two humans in the group, despite the shot of stims. Though the good news was that they were nearly at the top of the hill.
Jirel had holstered his disruptor back on his belt for the time being, as he was being forced to occasionally use his hands to scramble up the rocks ahead of them. But he was still gamely keeping pace.
Eventually, they reached the top and stepped across the peak to gaze down into the expanse of the valley below.
“Well,” Maya observed, “I’d say this is the place.”
Some distance below them, they saw the mining site itself. The valley was dominated by a vast dome-shaped building constructed from a silvery metal, presumably housing habitation and processing facilities for the whole area.
Dotted around the rest of the valley were dozens of figures, some clearly working on the various rock faces with lasers and cutting equipment, some hauling anti-grav units filled with duridium ore back to the dome, and others keeping watch over them. It was clear, even from this distance, which were the miners and which were the guards.
Jirel grabbed a small set of binoculars from his belt and held them up to his eyes, scanning around the figures from afar.
“We should hold back for now,” Maya offered, “Try and sneak a little closer using the rocks as cover and try to locate Toren. Then we just need to wait for a shift change to distract the guards and keep them away from the miners.”
“They look more like prisoners,” Natasha muttered as she tapped her tricorder.
“Same difference,” Maya responded with a shrug, “As far as the good people at Synergy are concerned.”
Natasha suppressed the immediate chill that passed down her spine at that, and kept her focus on scanning the valley’s population as best she could through all the inhibitors.
Jirel completed another quick scan through the binoculars. There was something wrong about the scene, even from this range, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“You sure we’ll have time at the shift change?” he asked Maya, dropping the binoculars and turning back to her.
“Pretty sure. They’ll leave the miners to themselves for that. After all, where exactly are they going to run to?”
She gestured around at their grim surroundings, and Jirel nodded.
“Ok,” he sighed after another lungful of thin air that didn’t come close to dealing with his increasing feeling of breathlessness, “I guess in the meantime, we need to—”
“Jirel,” Natasha cut in, with some urgency, “This isn’t right.”
He whirled around to her, as she gestured to the tricorder. The look of concern that was etched onto her face was enough for him to instantly tense up.
“I’m not scanning any Trill lifesigns down there,” she confirmed.
“The interference?”
“No,” she shook her head, “Not at this short range. I’m picking up every lifeform in the valley, and none of them are even part-Trill.”
Jirel’s expression hardened in an instant. Without even stopping to think, he grabbed the communicator from his belt and barked into it.
“Denella! Get us the hell out of here!”
There was no response, aside from a burst of static.
“Denella!” he called out again. Still nothing.
In anger, he whirled back around to the other woman in the group.
“Goddamnit, Maya. What have you—?”
He stopped immediately when he saw the familiar sight of the antique type-1 phaser being pointed directly at him and Natasha.
“Never leave home without it,” Maya said, her face a picture of serenity despite the sudden change in circumstances.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jirel spat out.
“Come on, darling,” she offered back, “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but you know that things were never going to be quite what they seemed with me, hmm? Now, drop the communicator. And drop your tricorder as well please, my dear.”
She gestured to Natasha’s tricorder. Jirel grimaced further, feeling entirely helpless, but nodded back at his crewmate as he dropped the communicator to the ground. Natasha’s tricorder followed with a clattering sound.
“What’s going on?” Natasha managed to ask.
“Jirel’s probably figured it out by now,” Maya shrugged, “Even he tends to get there eventually.”
The Trill ignored the latest casual insult and spat out his response.
“This whole thing was a goddamn setup. Again. Another of Maya Ortega’s traps. There never was a husband to rescue, was there?”
“Jirel, please,” Maya sighed, “You have to understand that—”
“Who are you working for now? What the hell have you gotten us into this time?”
“This was all business. I’m just doing what I had to do. The husband might have been made up, but the debt I owed Synergy Mining Enterprises was real.”
“You,” Jirel muttered with a shake of his head, “You were trying to screw the company over, all by yourself.”
“And it very nearly worked. But, even when things went wrong, I was fortunate enough to be able to come to an agreement. You see, it turned out the new owner knew somebody that owed him considerably more than I did…”
Jirel felt a cold rush of dread inside as she spoke. And something that he’d seen down in the valley suddenly twigged with him.
That was what had been wrong.
All of the guards had been Miradorn.
Feeling a sinking feeling growing inside, he looked back at a shocked and confused Natasha. And he realised how stupid he had been. Once again, he had been suckered in by Maya Ortega. He had allowed her to spin him a tall tale, and seduce him into bed. And he had allowed her to take him in entirely with the promise of a heroic adventure for the wannabe swashbuckling captain.
And not only had he fallen for it again, but he had brought the rest of the Bounty’s crew down with him. Including Natasha.
“I’m sorry,” he managed.
“For what—?”
She didn’t get any further before the transporter effect sounded out. The three figures turned to see three new forms coalescing a short distance away.
Natasha didn’t recognise any of them. But Jirel already knew who it would be before the familiar leer from the shorter of the three figures finished forming, and he opened his mouth.
“Hello, Jirel.”
“No hard feelings, darling,” Maya offered from behind him, “But, then again, you did promise to help me…”
****************************
Denella staggered up the steps to the Bounty’s cockpit even as the ship was pitched into another sickening angle by the impact of another hit.
The cockpit was in chaos. The air was thick with smoke from dozens of failing systems. All hell had broken loose.
In the pilot’s seat, Sunek grappled with the controls, trying to keep the Bounty away from the volley of fire that was raining down on them.
The surprise nature of the attack meant that he was only being partly successful. The ship was already crippled badly, with several ugly gouges and scorch marks peppering the Bounty’s long-suffering hull.
The venerable Ju’Day-type raider, veteran of a thousand firefights, was bleeding from multiple wounds.
Klath, bleeding from a wound of his own across his forehead, was wrestling with his own console helplessly, trying to return fire as best he could.
The whole cockpit was dimmed, with dark red emergency lighting the only thing that was illuminating the scene. Smoke was pouring from a ruptured power conduit in the ceiling, while the Bounty’s fire suppression systems were struggling to cope with an inferno that had broken out across Natasha’s unmanned station.
Denella dragged herself to her own console, fighting against the ship’s erratic pitching and turning, as she tried to understand what was going on.
“The orbital sentries?” she called out through the choking smoke.
“No,” Klath called back, “Another ship. It dropped out of warp, already launching micro-torpedoes. They must have disguised their approach somehow.”
“First hit knocked out our warp drive,” Sunek cried out, “I’m doing my best, but we’re sitting ducks here!”
Denella caught a brief glimpse of the ship through the cockpit window as Sunek swivelled the Bounty away from a disruptor blast.
It was an ovoid design, not much larger than the Bounty, with stubby warp nacelles branching off from either side towards the rear of the body of the vessel. Not a ship type that she had ever seen before, but it almost looked like a private yacht. Albeit a very heavily armoured one, with twin pincer-like prongs at the front containing deadly disruptors.
A fresh alarm blared out amidst the cacophony, as Denella did her best to check on the damage they had already picked up.
The ship rocked from another impact. Sunek’s efforts at the pilot’s controls were becoming less and less useful. The expert pilot was hamstrung by the crippling damage to the ship. There was a desperation to his movements, and a sluggishness to the ship’s responses.
“Weapons are offline!” Klath called out, “We must reroute power!”
“I’m working on it,” Denella shouted back, though she could already see that there was little power left to reroute.
Another burst of green disruptor fire flared out at them. Sunek managed to avoid the first one, but the second hit home on the bow of the ship, cutting into the exposed hull and pitching them into an unnatural dive.
Denella was thrown to the ground. Klath clung onto his console for dear life. Several more alarms and alerts flared up.
“Warning,” the Bounty’s computer chimed out, “Hull breach in cargo bay.”
Tasting blood in her mouth, Denella forced herself back into her seat and checked the latest damage reports, even as Sunek wrestled for control of the ship.
“We’re venting atmosphere!” she cried out, “Hull integrity is going critical and the shield emitters are fried! I’m sending everything we’ve got left to the impulse drive and thruster control!”
“I need weapons,” Klath bellowed, “We must disable them!”
“I can give you a couple of phaser blasts. Wouldn’t make a dent in their shields.”
“Who the hell are they?” Sunek griped, as he feverishly spun the ship away from the ovoid yacht’s latest attack.
Nobody had an answer for that.
The noxious air became even more toxic as a relay exploded above Klath’s console, showering him with fiery sparks and causing half of his console to blink out.
“I’ve lost navigational sensors!” Sunek shouted out, “Can’t get her stable!”
The Bounty pitched and groaned around them, like a mortally wounded animal straining against the spears in its side. Smoke billowed forth from the ugly hole in the rear of the ship where the cargo bay was now exposed to the harsh vacuum outside.
Just as Sunek tried to get the ship back under some sort of control, a further disruptor blast coursed out from one of the pincer-like prongs at the front of the unidentified ship. There was nothing anyone could do to avoid it.
It impacted on the underside of the crippled vessel’s hull, ripping a hole clean through the protective metal. In an instant, half the remaining systems onboard collapsed under the latest wave of punishment.
The entire ship convulsed from the ferocity of the impact, the superstructure itself sounding like it was whining in agony.
The Bounty tumbled away, mortally crippled.
Sunek was thrown clear of the pilot’s seat, just as the entire right side of his console exploded.
Denella cried out as she was slammed to the ground. A sickening crunch sounded out above the rest of the carnage as she hit the deck and fell silent.
Klath was flung from behind his console, flying across the cockpit and onto the ground, narrowly avoiding landing on the vacant centre chair as he did so. He took the full force of the landing on his right shoulder, but he forced himself to bear the pain and remain conscious.
Emergency power breathed its last as the ship’s own lifesigns ebbed away, and the cockpit was plunged into darkness, acrid smoke still filling the air from dozens of fried components.
The Bounty was dead.
The Klingon growled with agony as he crawled across the deck, past Sunek’s unmoving form, to the wrecked pilot’s controls.
He had no idea where their enemy was, or how long it would take them to finish them off, but he knew he wasn’t about to die on the deck of his ship.
Through the window, he could see the planet below them looming ever larger. Out of control, they were now spiralling into the atmosphere. He fought against the forces that were pushing him down and clambered into the pilot’s seat, grasping desperately at the controls in front of them.
He wrestled with the console to try and extract any remaining battery power out of the shattered ship to arrest their uncontrolled descent. Even though it might have been useless, he knew he had to at least try.
Behind him, his two colleagues lay prone and unmoving amongst the carnage.
In front of him, the solid ground of the Class-L planet loomed larger.
Klath gritted his teeth, and couldn’t help but wonder one thing.
Whether today was going to be a good day to die.
End of Part Four
And the double-cross is completed... Great action on the cliff hanger - a moment that would make CeJay proud...
Thanks!! rbs
Thanks!! rbs
Part Five
Sector 394, Five Hours out of the Tyran Scrapyards
Stardate 47123.2
Jirel lay in bed with a satisfied smile on his face. He listened to the comforting background sound of the ship at warp, as it raced away from his life at the Tyran Scrapyards on autopilot.
Not just the sound of a ship at warp. But the sound of his ship at warp.
They had well and truly left the scrapyards, Crax Traxanar and his whole unhappy life back there well and truly behind.
Granted, the Ju’Day-type raider that they had purchased had been well worth its place in the scrapyards. It was worn and tattered, and everything smelt oddly musty, like the whole ship had been in a state of decay for some time.
But importantly, as Jirel had immediately ascertained when this particular ship had first arrived for processing several weeks ago, it was generally intact and spaceworthy. The warp core still functioned, the power grid was generally intact, the flight controls and computer systems were operational. While it might look like it belonged in a scrapyard from an aesthetic perspective, he knew that could all be fixed. And it would be fixed.
And even if it wasn’t, none of that mattered all that much. Because five years after finally leaving his adoptive family behind, having entirely failed to get anywhere in Starfleet Academy, or impress his high-flying father a single iota, he had made it.
He was a captain. Sort of.
Next to him in bed, Maya lazily rolled over and draped herself over him, noting the look on his face with a wry smile.
“You know,” she purred, “I’m not calling you Captain Jirel.”
Jirel did his best to disguise the fact that she had again successfully guessed exactly what he was thinking about, with only partial success.
“I just…can’t believe we did it,” he replied eventually.
This elicited a more flirtatious and knowing look from her, as she idly traced a finger across the spots down the side of his chest.
“I rather hoped you were used to it by now—”
“Not that,” he sighed patiently, “I mean…I actually got it. My own ship.”
“Careful, darling,” she chided him, “I seem to recall that I’m the majority owner of the…what are we calling it?”
“The Bounty.”
Her amused expression was complimented by a more curious raised eyebrow.
“Cute.”
“You got a better idea?”
“Plenty, as always. But a little something tells me that you’re not going to be all that interested in hearing them.”
He didn’t bother to respond to that. Because he knew she was right, on both counts. And, slightly more troublingly, she was also right about her majority ownership. For now.
“You know I’m gonna pay you back, right?”
“Jirel, you know I don’t care about all that. Do you really think I sank that much latinum into this specific ship so that I could play at being captain, hmm?”
He tried to ignore the implication of that comment. After all, he wasn’t playing at being captain. He was captain. This was his ship, and he was the captain.
“The truth is,” she continued, as she traced her finger back up the chain of spots to his neck, “That, as ever, I can see the bigger picture in this little partnership of ours.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
“You named the ship. I’ll name this.”
He sat up a little straighter in bed, and gestured for her to continue.
“So?” he added, “What is the bigger picture?’
“It’s fairly simple. While you see the ship as the end product, I see it as the gateway to plenty more profit. We’ve got the means to make so much more latinum out of all this that the meagre…deposit I just paid for it will seem like pocket change.”
She smiled wider as she considered the possibilities.
“The galaxy is our oyster, Jirel.”
He thought about this for a second. He hadn’t actually given much thought to what they were going to do now. He knew he had wanted a ship, to get away from the scrapyards. And when he had seen the Bounty being towed in, he knew he had found it. But he had to reluctantly admit that was pretty much as far as his plan had gone. And he did like the sound of what she was proposing.
“Ok,” Jirel nodded back, “I’m in.”
“I know you are,” she smiled, “Besides, I wouldn’t worry about what the ship cost. As soon as we left sensor range of the scrapyards, I sent a subspace message to cancel the latinum transfer.”
In the midst of another tingle of pleasure as she gently stroked his spots, Jirel’s entire face sagged in shock.
“What?”
She chuckled and rolled away to the other side of the bed, as Jirel entered a state of mild panic.
“You didn’t think I was actually going to pay him, did you? For this ship? But relax, by the time that idiotic Reegrunion figures out what’s happened, we’ll be long gone, won’t we? And it’s a big galaxy, Jirel. He’ll never find us.”
That didn’t calm him at all. He leapt out of bed and started to pull on his clothes as he babbled back at her.
“B—But he knows who I am! He’s got my name, my details! And now you’re saying I just stole a ship from him?!”
She reclined in bed as he finished dressing and rushed for the door of his cabin, still in a panic.
“Ok, we’ll just turn around. Go back there, explain what happened, and then we can…”
He tailed off as he reached the doorway, turning back to Maya where she lay, apparently without a care in the world.
“...And you’re winding me up.”
“Maybe,” she smiled impishly, “But I really didn’t mean to. It’s just that you make it so very easy to do.”
With a defeated slump of his shoulders and a wry smile, he walked back over to the bed and sat down, looking back at her all the while.
“Am I ever going to be able to trust you?”
She beamed wider and leaned forward to kiss him.
“Not if you know what’s good for you.”
****************************
“Grenk.”
Jirel managed to cough out the name, as the Ferengi leered back at him on the rocky, barren surface of the Class-L planet.
It had been nearly a year since he had last seen him. But there was no mistaking him for any other Ferengi. Especially when he arrived flanked by his most trusted Miradorn bodyguards. Either side of Grenk, Shel-Lan and Gel-Lan pointed disruptors in Jirel’s direction.
“Yes, Jirel,” the Ferengi cackled through a toothy grin, “It’s me.”
Grenk.
The Ferengi who Jirel and the Bounty’s crew had crossed more times than he could remember. A ruthless businessman forever searching for new ways to acquire latinum. Not to mention screw over any potential business partners.
They had most recently run into each other on a planet that had contained the Jewel of Soraxx, shortly after they had rescued Natasha from her involuntary exile, and while she and the crew of the Bounty were trying to track down said mythical treasure.
Back then, Jirel had stolen the last known coordinates of the late USS Navajo from Grenk, and after he had tracked them down, the rest of the Bounty’s crew had gone on to disable his shuttle and leave him stranded on the planet’s surface.
But that was nowhere near the first time Jirel had crossed paths with Grenk. And it certainly wasn’t the first time they had gotten the better of the wily Ferengi during their encounter.
But now, the sinking feeling in Jirel’s stomach confirmed that the tables were very much turned.
“Welcome to my latest acquisition,” Grenk postured, gesturing down into the valley below, “I’m so glad you found the time to pay me a visit.”
“You’re the owner of Synergy Mining Enterprises?” Jirel grimaced.
“Didn’t you get it?” Grenk beamed, gesturing at the Miradorn twins either side of him, two brothers who shared an innate telepathic bond between each other, “I do like a certain…synergy in my work, after all.”
As Grenk gloated, Maya made her way over to join the Ferengi and his goons, keeping her own weapon pointed at Jirel and Natasha.
“You make a cute couple,” the Trill observed, keeping his bravado levels as high as possible despite the situation.
“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, darling,” Maya replied, before looking over at the still-leering Grenk, “I assume this means my debts are paid off.”
“Oh yes,” Grenk nodded greedily, “Very much so.”
Jirel struggled to fight off the feelings swirling inside him at being so completely abandoned by Maya Ortega once again. And the anger he felt with himself for allowing it to happen.
“So,” he grimaced with a shake of his head as he saw the situation for what it was, “This was never a rescue. It was an exchange.”
“Jirel,” Natasha urged, having not had the pleasure of actually meeting Grenk during their misadventures with the Jewel of Soraxx, “Who the hell is this—?”
“I am a businessman, my dear,” Grenk replied on the Trill’s behalf, “One that your colleague here has robbed from, stolen from, double-crossed and nearly ruined over the years.”
“He’s exaggerating,” Jirel grunted at Natasha.
“Am I really? The last time we met, you and your crew left me marooned on that awful, desolate planet.”
“You wanna tell her the full story—?”
“Oh, Jirel, you’ll have plenty of time to tell her that story. And all the others. Because ever since you left me behind there, I swore that was the last straw. That I would have my revenge. And then one day, I caught someone else trying to steal from my company. And just as I was about to send her to my duridium mine to work off her debt…I discovered that we had a mutual acquaintance.”
Jirel flashed another angry look at Maya, as the Ferengi took a step closer to the Trill, confident in the backup from his bodyguards.
“You belong to me now, Jirel. You’re trapped here, and there’s no escape.”
“Oh, really?” Jirel worked on maintaining some of his confidence, “You don’t think the others—”
“The others have been dealt with,” Grenk interjected darkly, revelling in his victory, “That little ship of yours is burning in space.”
The rest of Jirel’s bravado collapsed. Natasha gasped in horror.
To Grenk’s side, Maya suddenly looked a little unsettled.
“What did you do?” she cut in, “That wasn’t part of our deal—!”
“Our deal was for you to deliver Jirel and his friends to me. You didn’t seem all that interested in what would happen to them after that.”
Despite having secured her own freedom, no matter what the cost, just as she had since her days back on Turkana IV, Maya suddenly looked ashen. Grenk didn’t seem to care. He kept his focus entirely on his captives.
“What the hell have you done to them?” Jirel growled.
“Assuming my crew have followed my instructions, exactly what you did to me. Disabled their ship and left them to die…”
The sneer on Grenk’s face grew even wider. With a sudden rush of anger, Jirel went to grab him. Natasha held him back just in time, as Shel-Lan fired a warning shot over the Trill’s head.
“And now,” the Ferengi continued, “You and your colleague here are going to work down there, in the duridium mine. In the middle of an empty sector of space, inside all of my carefully curated security procedures. Entirely untraceable, where nobody even knows you are…”
Jirel felt a stab of pain inside as Grenk’s words sank in. He wondered what had happened to the Bounty. To his friends. He wondered what was about to happen to him and Natasha. And he wrestled with the fact that this was all his fault.
All the while, Grenk’s gloating continued.
“And you’re going to work there until you’ve paid off your debt to me. Which, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, is going to take you a very, very long time indeed.”
He punctuated his gloating with a victorious cackle that seemed to resonate out across the barren landscape.
The two armed Miradorn, with no discernible expressions on their own faces, stepped over to the two helpless Bounty crew members and grabbed their arms, ready to march them away. Neither Jirel nor Natasha offered any resistance, seeing how futile such a gesture would clearly be.
As they were marched off down into the valley, towards the looming dome and the rest of the duridium mine, Jirel fired off a glare at the still-ashen Maya.
A glare filled with rage. Not only at her, for the scale of this latest and deepest of betrayals. But also at himself, for allowing himself to trust her again. For allowing himself to fall for her again.
Because the person that had given him his ship, and the freedom of the entire galaxy, had come back to take it all away from him.
As they were dragged away, all Jirel could hear, echoing all around him, was the sound of Grenk’s victorious cackling.
To be continued…
I'm not sure how well the big 'reveal' will have registered, with anyone apart from me! As hinted at back at the start of this episode, more of Grenk and Jirel's interactions, and the Ferengi's need for revenge, can be found way back in Episode 1.
Sector 394, Five Hours out of the Tyran Scrapyards
Stardate 47123.2
Jirel lay in bed with a satisfied smile on his face. He listened to the comforting background sound of the ship at warp, as it raced away from his life at the Tyran Scrapyards on autopilot.
Not just the sound of a ship at warp. But the sound of his ship at warp.
They had well and truly left the scrapyards, Crax Traxanar and his whole unhappy life back there well and truly behind.
Granted, the Ju’Day-type raider that they had purchased had been well worth its place in the scrapyards. It was worn and tattered, and everything smelt oddly musty, like the whole ship had been in a state of decay for some time.
But importantly, as Jirel had immediately ascertained when this particular ship had first arrived for processing several weeks ago, it was generally intact and spaceworthy. The warp core still functioned, the power grid was generally intact, the flight controls and computer systems were operational. While it might look like it belonged in a scrapyard from an aesthetic perspective, he knew that could all be fixed. And it would be fixed.
And even if it wasn’t, none of that mattered all that much. Because five years after finally leaving his adoptive family behind, having entirely failed to get anywhere in Starfleet Academy, or impress his high-flying father a single iota, he had made it.
He was a captain. Sort of.
Next to him in bed, Maya lazily rolled over and draped herself over him, noting the look on his face with a wry smile.
“You know,” she purred, “I’m not calling you Captain Jirel.”
Jirel did his best to disguise the fact that she had again successfully guessed exactly what he was thinking about, with only partial success.
“I just…can’t believe we did it,” he replied eventually.
This elicited a more flirtatious and knowing look from her, as she idly traced a finger across the spots down the side of his chest.
“I rather hoped you were used to it by now—”
“Not that,” he sighed patiently, “I mean…I actually got it. My own ship.”
“Careful, darling,” she chided him, “I seem to recall that I’m the majority owner of the…what are we calling it?”
“The Bounty.”
Her amused expression was complimented by a more curious raised eyebrow.
“Cute.”
“You got a better idea?”
“Plenty, as always. But a little something tells me that you’re not going to be all that interested in hearing them.”
He didn’t bother to respond to that. Because he knew she was right, on both counts. And, slightly more troublingly, she was also right about her majority ownership. For now.
“You know I’m gonna pay you back, right?”
“Jirel, you know I don’t care about all that. Do you really think I sank that much latinum into this specific ship so that I could play at being captain, hmm?”
He tried to ignore the implication of that comment. After all, he wasn’t playing at being captain. He was captain. This was his ship, and he was the captain.
“The truth is,” she continued, as she traced her finger back up the chain of spots to his neck, “That, as ever, I can see the bigger picture in this little partnership of ours.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
“You named the ship. I’ll name this.”
He sat up a little straighter in bed, and gestured for her to continue.
“So?” he added, “What is the bigger picture?’
“It’s fairly simple. While you see the ship as the end product, I see it as the gateway to plenty more profit. We’ve got the means to make so much more latinum out of all this that the meagre…deposit I just paid for it will seem like pocket change.”
She smiled wider as she considered the possibilities.
“The galaxy is our oyster, Jirel.”
He thought about this for a second. He hadn’t actually given much thought to what they were going to do now. He knew he had wanted a ship, to get away from the scrapyards. And when he had seen the Bounty being towed in, he knew he had found it. But he had to reluctantly admit that was pretty much as far as his plan had gone. And he did like the sound of what she was proposing.
“Ok,” Jirel nodded back, “I’m in.”
“I know you are,” she smiled, “Besides, I wouldn’t worry about what the ship cost. As soon as we left sensor range of the scrapyards, I sent a subspace message to cancel the latinum transfer.”
In the midst of another tingle of pleasure as she gently stroked his spots, Jirel’s entire face sagged in shock.
“What?”
She chuckled and rolled away to the other side of the bed, as Jirel entered a state of mild panic.
“You didn’t think I was actually going to pay him, did you? For this ship? But relax, by the time that idiotic Reegrunion figures out what’s happened, we’ll be long gone, won’t we? And it’s a big galaxy, Jirel. He’ll never find us.”
That didn’t calm him at all. He leapt out of bed and started to pull on his clothes as he babbled back at her.
“B—But he knows who I am! He’s got my name, my details! And now you’re saying I just stole a ship from him?!”
She reclined in bed as he finished dressing and rushed for the door of his cabin, still in a panic.
“Ok, we’ll just turn around. Go back there, explain what happened, and then we can…”
He tailed off as he reached the doorway, turning back to Maya where she lay, apparently without a care in the world.
“...And you’re winding me up.”
“Maybe,” she smiled impishly, “But I really didn’t mean to. It’s just that you make it so very easy to do.”
With a defeated slump of his shoulders and a wry smile, he walked back over to the bed and sat down, looking back at her all the while.
“Am I ever going to be able to trust you?”
She beamed wider and leaned forward to kiss him.
“Not if you know what’s good for you.”
****************************
“Grenk.”
Jirel managed to cough out the name, as the Ferengi leered back at him on the rocky, barren surface of the Class-L planet.
It had been nearly a year since he had last seen him. But there was no mistaking him for any other Ferengi. Especially when he arrived flanked by his most trusted Miradorn bodyguards. Either side of Grenk, Shel-Lan and Gel-Lan pointed disruptors in Jirel’s direction.
“Yes, Jirel,” the Ferengi cackled through a toothy grin, “It’s me.”
Grenk.
The Ferengi who Jirel and the Bounty’s crew had crossed more times than he could remember. A ruthless businessman forever searching for new ways to acquire latinum. Not to mention screw over any potential business partners.
They had most recently run into each other on a planet that had contained the Jewel of Soraxx, shortly after they had rescued Natasha from her involuntary exile, and while she and the crew of the Bounty were trying to track down said mythical treasure.
Back then, Jirel had stolen the last known coordinates of the late USS Navajo from Grenk, and after he had tracked them down, the rest of the Bounty’s crew had gone on to disable his shuttle and leave him stranded on the planet’s surface.
But that was nowhere near the first time Jirel had crossed paths with Grenk. And it certainly wasn’t the first time they had gotten the better of the wily Ferengi during their encounter.
But now, the sinking feeling in Jirel’s stomach confirmed that the tables were very much turned.
“Welcome to my latest acquisition,” Grenk postured, gesturing down into the valley below, “I’m so glad you found the time to pay me a visit.”
“You’re the owner of Synergy Mining Enterprises?” Jirel grimaced.
“Didn’t you get it?” Grenk beamed, gesturing at the Miradorn twins either side of him, two brothers who shared an innate telepathic bond between each other, “I do like a certain…synergy in my work, after all.”
As Grenk gloated, Maya made her way over to join the Ferengi and his goons, keeping her own weapon pointed at Jirel and Natasha.
“You make a cute couple,” the Trill observed, keeping his bravado levels as high as possible despite the situation.
“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, darling,” Maya replied, before looking over at the still-leering Grenk, “I assume this means my debts are paid off.”
“Oh yes,” Grenk nodded greedily, “Very much so.”
Jirel struggled to fight off the feelings swirling inside him at being so completely abandoned by Maya Ortega once again. And the anger he felt with himself for allowing it to happen.
“So,” he grimaced with a shake of his head as he saw the situation for what it was, “This was never a rescue. It was an exchange.”
“Jirel,” Natasha urged, having not had the pleasure of actually meeting Grenk during their misadventures with the Jewel of Soraxx, “Who the hell is this—?”
“I am a businessman, my dear,” Grenk replied on the Trill’s behalf, “One that your colleague here has robbed from, stolen from, double-crossed and nearly ruined over the years.”
“He’s exaggerating,” Jirel grunted at Natasha.
“Am I really? The last time we met, you and your crew left me marooned on that awful, desolate planet.”
“You wanna tell her the full story—?”
“Oh, Jirel, you’ll have plenty of time to tell her that story. And all the others. Because ever since you left me behind there, I swore that was the last straw. That I would have my revenge. And then one day, I caught someone else trying to steal from my company. And just as I was about to send her to my duridium mine to work off her debt…I discovered that we had a mutual acquaintance.”
Jirel flashed another angry look at Maya, as the Ferengi took a step closer to the Trill, confident in the backup from his bodyguards.
“You belong to me now, Jirel. You’re trapped here, and there’s no escape.”
“Oh, really?” Jirel worked on maintaining some of his confidence, “You don’t think the others—”
“The others have been dealt with,” Grenk interjected darkly, revelling in his victory, “That little ship of yours is burning in space.”
The rest of Jirel’s bravado collapsed. Natasha gasped in horror.
To Grenk’s side, Maya suddenly looked a little unsettled.
“What did you do?” she cut in, “That wasn’t part of our deal—!”
“Our deal was for you to deliver Jirel and his friends to me. You didn’t seem all that interested in what would happen to them after that.”
Despite having secured her own freedom, no matter what the cost, just as she had since her days back on Turkana IV, Maya suddenly looked ashen. Grenk didn’t seem to care. He kept his focus entirely on his captives.
“What the hell have you done to them?” Jirel growled.
“Assuming my crew have followed my instructions, exactly what you did to me. Disabled their ship and left them to die…”
The sneer on Grenk’s face grew even wider. With a sudden rush of anger, Jirel went to grab him. Natasha held him back just in time, as Shel-Lan fired a warning shot over the Trill’s head.
“And now,” the Ferengi continued, “You and your colleague here are going to work down there, in the duridium mine. In the middle of an empty sector of space, inside all of my carefully curated security procedures. Entirely untraceable, where nobody even knows you are…”
Jirel felt a stab of pain inside as Grenk’s words sank in. He wondered what had happened to the Bounty. To his friends. He wondered what was about to happen to him and Natasha. And he wrestled with the fact that this was all his fault.
All the while, Grenk’s gloating continued.
“And you’re going to work there until you’ve paid off your debt to me. Which, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, is going to take you a very, very long time indeed.”
He punctuated his gloating with a victorious cackle that seemed to resonate out across the barren landscape.
The two armed Miradorn, with no discernible expressions on their own faces, stepped over to the two helpless Bounty crew members and grabbed their arms, ready to march them away. Neither Jirel nor Natasha offered any resistance, seeing how futile such a gesture would clearly be.
As they were marched off down into the valley, towards the looming dome and the rest of the duridium mine, Jirel fired off a glare at the still-ashen Maya.
A glare filled with rage. Not only at her, for the scale of this latest and deepest of betrayals. But also at himself, for allowing himself to trust her again. For allowing himself to fall for her again.
Because the person that had given him his ship, and the freedom of the entire galaxy, had come back to take it all away from him.
As they were dragged away, all Jirel could hear, echoing all around him, was the sound of Grenk’s victorious cackling.
To be continued…
I'm not sure how well the big 'reveal' will have registered, with anyone apart from me! As hinted at back at the start of this episode, more of Grenk and Jirel's interactions, and the Ferengi's need for revenge, can be found way back in Episode 1.
Well... we knew it was someone with a grudge... But I have this instinct that we haven't seen the last double-cross in this story. Merry Christmas! rbs
Thank you for reading and commenting again! The conclusion to this cliffhanger, and the episode that I (slightly presumptuously) would call the final part of ST:Bounty’s first ‘season’ should be ready for general consumption very early in the new year.
And a belated Merry Christmas to you, too!
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