Onari Desert

The Shantak driver sped on through the blazing midday heat, and dust kicked up through cracks in the doors and around the rusted wheel wells, clouding the back of the van in a haze of fine dust particles. From the bitter metallic taste his mouth, and the orange silt that dusted his clothes, Tom surmised that they were crossing a vast desert just south of the mountain range known as the Kintaras.

He'd heard of a secret Shantak base there, but it had never been officially confirmed. What he did know—and it weighed heavily on his mind at this moment—was that these Shantak meant to kill Nanishia and him. That turncoat Crevlin had ordered it, and it was just a matter of time before their captors followed through on that order.

Tom had an escape plan, but working out the details with Nanishia was risky at best. A small window between the back of the van and the cabin had been broken out; the guards would overhear anything the captives might say to one another. So Tom kept quiet; he didn't want to risk bringing on the Shantaks' wrath too soon.

He still clutched Crevlin's fancy laser cigar cutter tightly in his hand. He tried to visualize how to orient the device so that he only cut the ropes that tied his wrists and not his fingers, but the bonds were too high and out of his own reach.

Seeing his attempt, Nanishia backed up to him and eased the device from his hands.

Even though her own hands were bound behind her as well, her position allowed her to deftly grab hold of his bonds and begin to work the cutter around them. Suddenly he felt a snap. The ropes had slackened, and his wrists were free.

Staying low, he turned to free Nanishia, the scent of burnt rope wafted into the air. The Shantak beside the driver uttered a curse and a brief but heated argument ensued. The driver slammed on the brakes, sending the captives headlong into the metal divider.

Tom heard a door open and ignoring his pain, he peered through the broken out window. He couldn't believe his luck. The Shantak assumed the burning smell had come from the engine. The driver had opened the door and climbed out to investigate the trouble, leaving the other Shantak in the truck cursing to himself and clutching a weapon in his restive hands.

Motioning for Nanishia to back away, Tom took a long piece of the rope from the floor, wrapped the ends securely around his palms and took a steady breath. He glanced through the window again. The hood was up and the driver was presumably on the other side studying the engine.

The passenger chose that time to reach for something, inadvertently giving Tom a clear shot. He plunged his arms through the window, looping the ropes around the Shantak's neck and pulling it taut. The Shantak gagged and drew up his weapon, but it fumbled from his hands and he grasped his throat, fingers prying at the rope.

The driver slammed down the hood, Tom saw him for a brief moment before the driver dropped down out of sight. Damn, that's just what he needed. "Come on!" he said through his gritted teeth, straining to keep the rope taut against the struggling Shantak. Die already. As if on cue, the Shantak fell unconscious, Tom grabbed the weapon and pulled it back through the window.

"Where's the driver?" Nanishia asked

"Stay down," Tom ordered, and grasping the weapon he cautiously peered through the window. The driver was nowhere to be seen.

Nanishia lifted herself up and peered over the back beside him. "He's gone?" she said in a small voice.

"I said stay down!" Just as he spoke a blast hit them. Tom fell, but quickly righted himself. A gaping hole had been blasted into the side of the van barely missing them.

Tom looked back and sized up the small window to the cab and decided Nanishia was small enough to squeeze through. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the window. "Drive! Get us out of here!"

Another blast hit the back and it tore into the divider next to Tom, ripping through to the front seat. The melted padding dripped like water. Nanishia squeezed herself through. Tom scrambled to see out holes in the back and then caught a flash; the driver stood a couple of meters back with his weapon raised. Tom fired through the hole and the driver collapsed into the dust.

Nanishia let out a startled scream, and the vehicle shot forward. Through the smoke and dust Tom saw the driver struggle to stand up. Tom had wounded him, but he didn't know how severely.

In the distance, he discerned a few dark shapes on the horizon. Could be other vehicles. Their best chance was to keep moving. Tom sat back and wiped the sweat from his eyes.

"Where am I going?" shouted Nanishia from the cab.

Tom looked up front. Desert surrounded them, but he could just discern the dark peaks of the Kintaras up ahead. It was the only place they could go. The desert was too open and they wouldn't survive long without water. They might find water near the mountains, along with an angry Shantak hive, but he saw no other alternative. "Drive straight on," he said. "When I think it's safe to stop, we'll dump our friend here, then I'll take the wheel."

"Okay," she said a little shakily.

Tears had made clean streaks through the dust on her face, but she was trying to put up a brave front. Tom put a hand through the window and patted her shoulder. "You did well, Nanishia," he said. "You got us out of there."

They weren't out of danger yet, not by a long shot, but they had gotten through the tough part. Tom was sure that if they stayed out of Shantak hands long enough, the Venture would find them and transport them out of this hell.


USS Venture

Only a little time had passed between the moment Solek contacted B'Elanna at the embassy and informed her they were now within transporter range and the moment she materialized onto the transporter deck of the USS Venture. B'Elanna stepped down and immediately headed for the double doors. She had to speak to Solek and discover the status of the search for her husband. She ignored the transporter technician who held up a finger as if he were about to say something. There was no way in hell she would delay here when she could be aiding in the search.

The doors swished open and B'Elanna, cane in hand, marched through them nearly colliding with another woman just coming into the transporter room.

"Oh!" The startled woman jumped back throwing a hand to her chest.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant," said B'Elanna. The apology was an automatic response, a remnant from her recent diplomatic dealings. She inwardly groaned at the ease of which she said it. A Klingon would never be so…so pusillanimous.

Oblivious to B'Elanna's volatile temper, the Lieutenant smiled. "It was entirely my fault, Dr. Torres." She noticed the cane B'Elanna leaned on, and her brows shot up. "Are you alright, Ma'am? I hope I didn't hurt you."

"You didn't," said B'Elanna through clenched teeth. "You are, however, in my way."

The younger woman straightened and her green eyes grew a little wider, finally discerning B'Elanna's mood. "I'm Lieutenant Verdi. I've come to assist you to sickbay, Dr. Torres."

B'Elanna felt her blood begin to boil. She gave Verdi a hard look. "I'm not going to sickbay," she growled and started to go around her.

Verdi sidestepped and blocked her. "Commander Solek has given me strict orders to escort you directly to sickbay."

"Did he."

"Yes, Ma'am."

B'Elanna studied the woman for a moment. Judging by the uniform, Verdi was an engineer, just as B'Elanna once was—still was. Solek calculated everything down to the minutest detail. Of course he would send someone from engineering. Someone she would possibly trust or at least be civil to—the Vulcan devil. As soon as Tom returned, she'd have him call off that watchdog. He was making a considerable nuisance of himself.

Taking B'Elanna's silence as a refusal, Verdi quickly stated the rest of her orders. "I'm sorry Ma'am, if you don't come voluntarily, we will beam you there." Verdi raised her hand to hover over her combadge.

"Of all the…" B'Elanna began, but thought better of it. The pain in her leg, which she had so far ignored, had started to flare up. The limp had worsened to the point that she would eventually have to crawl to sickbay. She gestured to the end of the hall. "Alright then, I'll go," she said, taking a deep breath.

"I'll brief you on the search for the commodore on the way," Verdi offered.

"Good." B'Elanna decided that she might be civil to this woman after all.


"Do still believe we're being followed, Commodore?"

"They're not going to give up so easily, Nanishia," Tom said, as he scavenged the van for supplies. After they'd dumped their Shantak captor, they had only driven about five kilometers when the vehicle ran out of fuel, and stopped dead at the edge of the foothills. "There isn't a great stockpile of supplies here, not much water either. They weren't planning to travel far, so we can assume there's a Shantak base within a few kilometers at least." He pulled out a small crate and opened it. "Plenty of ammunition though," he said, after seeing the bright blue cartridges inside.

He studied the small pile of salvageable goods he'd collected. One empty water bottle, one rifle, couple of knives, pack of some sort of sweet candy stuck together in one lump, a pair of black boots…

"Take these," he said handing the boots to her. "We'll be doing a lot of walking."

She took them gingerly, between her fingers and thumb. "I would rather go barefoot than put these disgusting things on my feet," she said then looked down, already her feet were covered in cuts and abrasions. She frowned. "Under better circumstances, that is." Reluctantly, she climbed into the front seat of the van and began to untangle the laces.

"That's my girl," said Tom, and he turned back to gathering the supplies. He'd said that to Miral many times, usually when she finally relented to do something her heart wasn't set on. His beautiful, stubborn daughter. He could see her now, jaw set, determined to have her way. His heart ached at the very thought of her, but at least she was safe and light years away from this desolate place.

"Is your ship, Venture far?" Nanishia asked, "How will we contact them?"

Tom put a hand on the open side door and paused, thankful at least for a break in his thoughts. "That, Nanishia, is a very good question. We'll need a communicator of some sort." He gestured to a small device lying cattycornered on the dash. "Hand me that. Looks like it might serve that purpose."

"This?" She picked it up. "It doesn't look like much."

"Looks can be deceiving." He examined the small black device. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen one years before. What he held in his hand was a classic communicator, first used in the mid-23rd century and so basic in its components and structure, that people had used them reliably for years after they'd been discontinued. It wasn't unusual to find the Shantak in possession of Federation materiel, since it was often traded on the black market. He flipped open the antenna and heard the ancient Starfleet issue chirp. "Oh, yeah. This will work just fine."

"Commodore."

Nanishia's voice was a whisper. Tom looked up at her.

"Someone is coming." She pointed straight ahead at the horizon.

The sun was at midday, and Tom put up a hand to block the glare. Burnt orange dust clouds billowed up into the blue sky, and dark shapes moved before them. They were vehicles all right.

"My father, he commands the government troops," she said. "He could have sent them to find us." She didn't sound convinced of her own theory and she looked to Tom for reassurance. "It could be them, couldn't it?"

Even from this distance, Tom could see it was a ragtag group. There was no uniform size or shape to the oncoming vehicles, and the smallest one in the front jetted about erratically from one side to the other. "Not likely." Tom slung the rifle over his shoulder. "We're not staying here to find out. Come on."


They disappeared easily into the hills as desert gave way to rocky terrain and outcrops of vegetation. After about an hour, the ground rose up sharply and formed a solid wall in front of them. The air was cooler here and freshly scented. Tom thought they might find water past this ridge, and that was something they desperately needed.

"Can you climb?" he asked. "I think there's water on the other side."

Nanishia had been watching behind them, she bit her lip. Without a word she started to step up, grabbing onto jutting roots to help pull herself up.

"When the Tom wedged his foot behind the small sapling and waited for Nanishia to reach the top. He prepared to catch her if she slid back.

"A spring!" Nanishia exclaimed.

She started to scramble over the edge. Pebbles and sand kicked out from underneath her boots and Tom put a hand up to keep the showering objects from his face. "Wait," he said and he grabbed her ankle with his other hand. Nanishia stopped scrambling and waited for him to climb up to her.

A small blue green pool lay a few meters below them. It was the first water they'd seen since their capture and Tom wanted to rush down to it as much as Nanishia, but Shantak needed water too, and he didn't want to surprise any by rushing out into the open.

He led her around the lip of the ridge on a route thicker in foliage that gave them more cover. By the time they got to the water, Tom was pretty certain they were alone in their discovery and he allowed Nanishia to scoot down to the edge and get a drink.

From underneath a small overhang of rock, Tom could see the upper ridge and spot anyone approaching the pool from most sides. He put down the bag of supplies and opened up the communicator. The chirp sounded and once again, Tom felt a pang of hope. He was taking a risk by using this communicator; the Shantak might be able to pinpoint their location with its signal, but it was a risk he'd have to take.


B'Elanna sat on the biobed and watched as the doctor deftly repaired her leg. The doctor was android and dispensed with the idle banter in which a carbon based life form might be obliged to engage during a meticulous medical procedure such as this. He moved swiftly and efficiently and B'Elanna used this quiet time to process what Verdi had told her on the way to sickbay.

As soon as Venture had gotten within sensor range, they had been scanning the northern desert regions, but with no luck so far. Reports came back jumbled and indecipherable from some regions. Speculation had it that the Shantak had acquired scrambling devices to thwart such scanning attempts. The devices were crude, and Verdi determined that it wouldn't take much longer to adjust and rescan those areas. As soon as she was able, B'Elanna intended to go help Verdi make sure the adjustments went as quickly as possible.

The doctor disengaged the protoplaser. "Your leg is as good as new, B'Elanna."

She hopped off the biobed and felt no pain at all. "Well, Doctor, I'll admit, it's a relief to be out of that misery."

"You are welcome," said the doctor. "And please, call me B-4. I find that in relating with my patients it is more productive to use informal language. It makes the sickbay a friendlier place. Would you not agree?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to clean up his equipment. "If you will pardon me, B'Elanna, I must now prepare for surgery."

Puzzled, B'Elanna looked around. There were no other patients in sickbay. "Expecting the worst, B-4?"

"The commodore has been away for a long time. I find it best to be prepared for any circumstance."

B'Elanna said nothing, unsettled as she was at B-4's frankness. Leave it to an android to give a direct answer. She started to go, but the comm flashed an urgent message.

"Bridge to B-4."

"B-4 here."

"Report to the transporter room immediately. We have found the commodore."


"Solek, here. Commodore, are you alright?"

Tom felt as if he'd struck gold, on his first attempt he'd gotten through to the Venture. Their rescue was at hand. "Solek," he said, and motioned for Nanishia to come to him. "Can you lock onto our location?"

"Standby."

"They heard us!" Nanishia laughed in amazement. "Oh, it's wonderful!"

There was a pause and the communicator crackled and the light flickered. Tom had an uneasy feeling. Things had gotten a little too quiet. He motioned for her to move back behind him.

Nanishia took a step.

A streak of hot bright color flashed, and rock exploded above them. Nanishia screamed and covered her head protectively with her arms. Tom twisted and saw the Shantak level the rifle from the shelter of the ridge. Tom had been distracted, damn it, and the Shantak now had the upper hand. Two more of the enemy sprang up.

"Beam us, now!" Tom stepped in front of Nanishia and raised his weapon. Another flash and it hit with brutal force—violent tearing of flesh…a snapping of bone. When the transporter took them, he had yet to feel any pain.


An instant later, they fell, hitting the solid transporter platform in a rush of pain that ripped Tom's breath away.

A flurry of activity. Urgent voices. He heard his name, but could not respond. He saw only Nanishia's face; violent slashes of red streaked across, but it was the eyes, wide and fixed that told him she was dead.

Hands were on him, lifting him away. "Help her." he said, but no one seemed to hear, they just kept shouting and prodding. No, he tried to say, but he couldn't form the word.

Then B'Elanna was there, behind the shoulders of those giving aid. "Hold on, Tom," she said. "You'll be alright."

Her voice faded, "You'll be alright…"