ACT III

Loction: Unknown

"Ow, you idiot! That hurt!"

"Hold the hell still, moron!" Dallas said, applying more pressure to the wound.

"It's not gonna matter," said the Negarani militant, "because in less than thirty minutes, you will be dead."

Had time passed that quickly? If McGawan and Dallas knew any better, Starfleet had ordered that no one give up any position anywhere. That must be the case, since no one had sent a confirmation report that anyone had left Starbase 248.

"Who the hell are you guys, anyway?" Dallas wondered. "A bunch of races that are tired of the Federation?"

"The Negarani are of One Race, Worm," the lead militant said. "And I did not give you permission to ask me questions."

"FIRST!" called someone from down the hall.

"WHAT?"

"WE NEED YOUR HELP!"

At that time, the militant leader left the cell... with the door wide open.

"They just left the door open?" Dallas wondered aloud.

"What does it matter?" McGawan wondered, also. "We can't GO anywhere."

"But if we can get to the runabout—"

"How do you propose we do that?" McGawan challenged. "They have our combadges. We can't comm the runabout for beam-out. Besides, how the hell do you even propose we get past those three armed guards outside the door?"

Dallas took a look. McGawan was a sharp bastard, alright. He noticed the three armed guards, looking INTO the room, with their phaser rifles in hand, just in case they both decided that something smart was going to happen.

"Shit," Dallas said, thumping on his rear end. "I hope Kaori knows what she's doing."

"She'd better," McGawan said. "By the way, what makes you so familiar with the Commander? And, for that matter, what makes you so ballsy that you can be directly insubordinate with me?"

Dallas shrugged. "Because I've known Kaori for a long, long time. Her brother helped me get into Starfleet."

"Captain T'Kur?"

Dallas nodded in confirmation. "I was best friends with Kaori's youngest brother, Taromoya."

"The Press Editor?"

Another nod.

"Damn, you get around, don't you?"

Dallas shrugged, yet again. "I guess I was just lucky. I lived in Japan for almost ten years. Kaori is from Nagoya, and I lived and went to school in Okazaki."

"The Language School?"

Dallas shook his head. "Not Yamasa, but Aichi Prefecture College."

"Ah," McGawan said. "So, you didn't answer my second question. What gives you the nuts to be insubordinate with me?"

"I never took well to authority," Dallas answerd, quickly. "You can even ask Kaori, I don't even take well to her authority so much. Which is why I haven't even bothered to become a commissioned officer."

"Oh? Because you don't take well to authority?" McGawan pondered a moment. "But, if you have authority, maybe you would learn to appreciate it more."

"Or become a power-tripping psychopathic mumbling idiot who scolds starship captains for saving their crew?"

That hurt. That hurt DEEP. And McGawan knew that Dallas was bringing out a point about himself. McGawan didn't like to face himself, so much. "That's probably why I hate you so much."

"Why is that?"

"Because," McGawan had to admit, "I see a lot of the young, eager ensign I used to be when I look at your ugly face."

Dallas shook his head. "But the difference is that I don't want authority in any form. I dispise it so much that I don't even want to have it, myself."

"Then why did you join Starfleet?"

It was a good question, and Dallas knew it, as well. Of course, Dallas had to admit, that he had SOME respect for authority. "Because I love adventure."

"Ah."

"I didn't go through Starfleet Academy, because I didn't want to graduate an officer. Just basic training with some engineering electives, to hone my skills."

"But, I thought you had a sponsor...?"

Dallas shook his head. "I never went to the Academy. Just basic training. Nothing else."

"Have you ever thought about, maybe, going for commissioned officer? I'm sure all you'd need is command school training and a test to take."

Dallas, again, shook his head. "You're forgetting something, Captain. I hate authority."

"Starfleet could use some straight-forward officers every now and then," McGawan admitted. "Even little pricks who don't know when to shut up. Most captains, though they hate to admit it—"

"—Need someone to remind them of reality every now and then."

McGawan was amazed. He didn't expect someone to finish that line off so quickly. "You've heard that before?"

"From Kaori."

"That bitch," McGawan said. "She gave me that speech to convince me to keep you aboard the station."

"That's funny," Dallas said. "She gave me that speech to keep me from LEAVING the station."

McGawan sighed. Though, he was starting to get angry with himself... he was starting to actually LIKE Dallas, now. At least, he wanted to... but he wouldn't put any money down on it. "So, you didn't answer my FIRST question. How do you propose we get out of here?"

"Under NO circumstances are we going to abandon our position here," Admiral Owen Paris said, on the viewscreen in Nakajima's office. "We do not give in to terroristic demands."

"But we have only fifteen minutes left," Nakajima said. "Time is going to go QUICKLY, and this station could be blown to smitherines."

A comm signal. "Ops to Nakajima."

Nakajima hit her combadge. "Yes, Harry?"

"We're receiving word from Captain Holland," Kim said on the comm. "He found the Negarani ships."

The Excelsior B-class U.S.S. Mukaihara, named for a large industrial town in Hiroshima Prefecture, Japan, slowed down on an approach with two long-haul low-warp freighters of Earth design.

Captain Robert Holland tugged on his uniform, as he stepped in between the helm and ops consoles, in the firward section of the bridge. "They're just sitting there, waiting for a command... Any word from SB248?"

The comms officer turned to the captain and said, "Not yet, Sir."

"Scan those ships," Holland said. "Return those scans to SB248, and ask Commander Nakajima to advise."

Nakajima quickly entered into Ops, as Kim requested. She headed right to his station, and asked for a report.

"Captain Holland just sent us back these readings," Kim said. "Their inner compartements are loaded with a highly volitile compound. If antimatter interacts with them, the inert compounds will control their explosion. But, the antimatter has to be at a precise frequency."

"Would a couple of quantom torpedoes do the trick?" Nakajima wondered.

Kim shook his head. "Too much. Even if you control the yield, you're still looking at extra inert antimatter particles. It could we too much."

"But a station's power core is just right?"

Kim nodded. "That was the general idea of these bombs."

Nakajima found herself needing to come up with something to implement, FAST. She had to hope that Dallas and McGawan, if they didn't kill eachother first, could find a way out of their situation. She had to deal with the station, and the planet, for now.

A comm signal suddenly came through. "It's the Mukaihara."

Nakajima nodded. "Put them through." When Captain Holland appeared, Nakajima headed to the center, so that she was in the screen's visual capture range. "Rob, we're analyzing your data now."

"Come up with something QUICK," Holland said. "Cos these ships are moving for their targets, NOW."

"Stand by. You're clear to pursue. Research your data and see if you can come up with something before we can," Nakajima ordered. "We'll work on the problem here as well. Just do NOT engage them."

"Understood," Holland said. "Mukaihara out." The screen went off.

"Mister Kim," Nakajima said, "you have five minutes to figure out how the hell to stop those ships."

"It's not much time."

"It's all you got. Because, in ten, we're all going to die."

As the leader stood in the door, the three militant guards, and one other, came to put on the blindfolds. They sat their hostages back-to-back, and tied their hands together. "This is so you don't move around so much when our divine hand severs your unworthy heads."

"You're all going to die today," Dallas threatened.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Just you wait, yo sonuvabitch," Dallas barked, again. That was rewarded with a swift kick in the stomach. What hurt even more is that, since his hands were tied just right, he couldn't hunch over, by reflex.

"The next one will be to your face, you maggot," the lead militant said. "The hour is almost at hand," said the masked man. "Prepare them."

Dallas clenched his fist. He felt a piece of material, and clenched it. It moved slightly, but no more. Shit, Dallas thought to himself. I just tightened the knot. Now we're NOT going to get out of this mess.

Two militants began to kick Dallas and McGawan, very violently, in their stomachs. After a few kicks, both men began to throw up. After a few more, blood came out of their mouths. After a few more, chunks of their esophogai came out.

"Enough," the lead militant said, as pieces of their swallowing tubes came out. The kicking militants stopped their assault, and hefted their hostages to their feet. The lead militant tugged the back of their blind folds, to make sure they were on tight. He checked their ties and their binds. All secure.

"It's time," the militant announced. "Take them."

And with that, the other militants urged on a very weak, smelly, covered in their own filth, Dallas and McGawan. As they were moved, Dallas groaned.

As a militant was about to punch Dallas, the leader stopped him, and let Dallas speak.

"Uh," he said, "what's...gunna...happen...?"

"Though you are unworthy," the militant said, "you will be given the Rite of Final Sight. Then, you will die."

"I...was afraid...that would...happen..." Dallas managed to finish.

The militant punched Dallas in the face, as they continued their trek. "The Rite of Speech is ended," the militant said. "You are no longer allowed to say anything before your death."

And with every burning swallow, the Starfleet Officers were lead to their final destinations...

END OF ACT III