Civilized Savages
By Didi
Disclaimers: Star Trek is owned by the late and great Gene Roddenberry. I own nothing within this story except the improbable idea behind it. Paramount owns the rights to the show and I do wish they would run of the wonderful reruns of the older series. Please don't sue me cause I have no money and will have to pay you in lint.
Summery: When one of their own goes missing, Enterprise crew goes on a search as to why.
Acknowledgement: To my darling Julie who loves Star Trek and is always willing to listen to me either rag or rave about episodes. Always know that you're opinion is more important than the stupid producers.
RATING: Rated R for content.
Note: I know that Enterprise hasn't been on television for long and the characterizing of the characters on the show may not be accurate but it's the way I see them. Bear me with here as I attempt to give some life to this. ~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Five ~~~~~~~~~~ Sublevel Eight - Temporary Quarters
"Oh my lord," Reed muttered darkly as he stepped into the room. "That's..."
"The guy Hoshi was talking to earlier," Tucker finished as he slowly turned the man over. "I may be wrong but I think he's still alive."
T'Pol made no sound as she moved to check on the alien who appear to be leaking some kind of green liquid on the ground. "He is alive but he is bleeding to death." She pointed to the handle of what would appear to be a small weapon of some sort. "Moving him back to the ship for medical attention would be the logical course of action at the moment."
"Where in the bloody hell is Hoshi?" Reed asked as he glanced around the small quarter. "Travis, could you go and see if there is anyone hiding in the bath."
Mayweather nodded his head and headed into the only other door in the room. Tucker pulled a soft green scarf off the couch and wrapped it gently but firmly around the handle of what he assumed was a dagger. "We'll have to leave it in there until the doctor can see it. Don't want blood gushing out."
Archer nodded his agreement and caught Reed when the man's legs wobbled under him. "Easy there, Mr. Reed."
"Thanks," Reed sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, a grave-faced Mayweather came back into the room. "Anything?" The young man shook his head slowly, sadden that he hadn't found anything.
"Okay," Archer sighed and reassessed the situation in his mind. "First of all, Hoshi is obviously not here and we can only assume this was done to get to her. We need to get the wounded back to the ship and figure things out from there. T'Pol, you and Trip are going stay here and see if anyone has heard anything about strangers asking about Hoshi or humans in general. Mayweather, since there some to be some kind of communications jammer around here, you are going to run back to the ship and get the doctor out here. We need him and some more crewmen to carry our wounded back. Take care of him," pointing to the down alien, "first. Sorry Malcolm, I know you are hurting right now but I believe that he's injuries are more serious."
"Don't apologize, sir." Reed made a face, more of disgust than pain. "Serves me right for leaving Hoshi alone in the first place."
"Not your fault." Archer patted the man on the arm and nodded for Mayweather to take off first, which he young man did phaser first.
"Yeah," Tucker sighed and leaned his arm against the wall while T'Pol attended their bleeding alien friend. "My fault entirely. Shouldn't have left the two of your alone like that. Stupid, stupid, stupid..." Trip hit his forehead hard with the palm of his head.
"Stop that!" Archer snapped. "Both of you. It was not foreseen and that was my fault. We need to move pass that, Hoshi is missing and possibly hurt. Our first priority is to her safety. You guys want to feel guilty, do it on your own time." He said ruthlessly. The last thing the two men needed was sympathy; they needed a way to be useful. "Trip, you and T'Pol stay here until the medical team gets here. Then you're to go back and canvas the area. Leave no stone unturned and no witness unquestioned. Malcolm, once you're patched up, I want you to take a look at the knife that Dr. Phlox will be extracting from our friend over there. I want the make and origin of that weapon in my hand. If we're lucky, Hoshi may not have been taken of the station. Let's see if we can find them before they move her. Obviously they want her alive for some reason, lets find her before she becomes 'un'-alive." He watched his men carefully, noting the determination in their eyes. "Okay, let's get to work."
~~~~~~~~~~ Klingon Warbird Kollarg
The Klingons apparently saw no reason as to tie her up, since they were a) aboard their ship, b) in outer space, and c) no one wanted get close enough to the crying woman to do so. Hoshi had realized after not too long that her high pitched wailing were none too kind to the Klingon's sensitive ears. Therefore, whenever anyone one of them approached her, she would let out a wonderfully loud scream of fright. She found that this worked rather well.
Unfortunately, even the discomfort of having a near hysterical woman with them didn't deter the warriors from taking her from Mr. Chiqu-Shue's quarters. Hoshi sincerely hoped that the man was not harmed when the Klingons forcefully extracted her from the safely of behind the big soft chair that she had try to hide herself behind once they made their intentions care. Why she thought that the chair was going to protect her was beyond her, perhaps one of those naturally instinctive movements that have yet to be evolved out of the human psyche.
With a sigh, Hoshi took a good look at the room that the Klingon with the red eye-patched Klingon had thrust her in while she was making pathetic noises since his grip on her arm had been excruciatingly tight. She had to admit that the man let up some when she first cried out with pain. Apparently the Klingons weren't use to handling anything as delicate as a human before.
For a warrior race, the room was strangely comfortable. Someone obviously has taken the time to make the room comfortable for her. The walls weren't the same sharp silver gray as the corridors and bridge. A softer pale gray drapes lined the wall, making the room less harsh and intimidating. There was a soft bed in the corner; somehow Hoshi didn't see a race of warriors sleeping on feather beds. She would imagine that they slept on nails as a way of disciplining their bodies. A table sat at the side, with her translator and other various assortment of instrument on it.
Curious beyond belief, she moved to the table. Someone had hooked her translator up to another device on the table, one that resembled her shipboard universal language converter. "Hum... they weren't kidding when they said that they needed my skills."
Being that her greatest love was language, she sat down and began to play with the two equipments before her. After two hours, she was pretty certain that her grasp of the Klingon written language was as good as any linguist that should come along. Her first opportunity to study this particular culture had been under rather precautious and dangerous times, but with the silence of the room, she's beginning to rather appreciate that subtleness of the language. While it was rough and guttural sounding, it was a very complex and a fine construction of centuries of change in the vocal box. It was very likely what the prehistoric sounds of the caveman on earth would sound like. With a little more practice, Hoshi was sure she could speak like a native.
"You have begun your task." The deep grunt came from the door that had opened not too long ago, but so deep was Hoshi in her study that she failed to hear it hiss open.
She jumped up and opened her mouth to scream but stopped herself short. There was something rather familiar about this new Klingon that has entered. The lightness of his hair was different from the previous three, and there was something familiar about his voice to her ultra sensitive ears, she could almost remember.... "Klaang?"
The big jumbled mass of leather, steel and hair nodded. "You are the translator on the humon ship."
She wanted to correct him on the 'humon' part but thought better of it. The last thing she wanted to do was irritate the already less than thrilled Klingon warrior. All she really could do now was nod her head fearfully.
He pulled out three thin disk-like computer chips from his back. "These are recorded conversations between the Kocklonds and some traitorous Redians, whose loyalty should have been with the empire. The high council will take care of the Redians, but we want to know what is being send between them. You will learn the language and translate the words to us."
Ensign Hoshi Sato has shown many qualities that were less than exemplarily for a space traveler, such as her tendency to 'freak out,' as Commander Tucker so generously describes. But no one ever say that she lacked curiosity. In fact, if anything else, her overly enthusiasm for her work made her both ideal for her position and liability to the crew. Her tendency to wonder off in search of new culture to study has annoyed the Captain one too many time so far in their short journey.
"You kidnap me to be your translator?" She asked, less frightened and more curious.
Klaang frowned deeply. "Yes."
"Don't your people have...."
"Not as quickly as you." He replied, rough around the edge yet still showing a strange amount of patience. "You will work now."
She nodded her head and took the disk from him, keeping as much distance between them as possible in the little room. "When do you need..."
"When you finish."
"Okaaayyyy...." She fingered the disks carefully. "And when I'm finished?"
The man looked at her with deep dark eyes that startled her with its intensity. "We will return you to your ship."
Somehow, she didn't think he meant it as reassuring but it did relieve some of her anxieties. With a weak half smile, she nodded her head and sat down to work.
"You will eat first."
She turned her head toward him with wide surprised eye. "Excuse me?"
"You are weak, small. You will need strength. We feed you food, make you bigger, stronger." He announced and reached out one hand, which clamped solidly on her upper arm. "Come."
Not that she had much choice since he all but dragged her out of her chair and out the door without even realizing it.
To be continued.....
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, the Klingon Mass Hall scene is going to be interesting to read, not to mention write. Wish me luck.
Disclaimers: Star Trek is owned by the late and great Gene Roddenberry. I own nothing within this story except the improbable idea behind it. Paramount owns the rights to the show and I do wish they would run of the wonderful reruns of the older series. Please don't sue me cause I have no money and will have to pay you in lint.
Summery: When one of their own goes missing, Enterprise crew goes on a search as to why.
Acknowledgement: To my darling Julie who loves Star Trek and is always willing to listen to me either rag or rave about episodes. Always know that you're opinion is more important than the stupid producers.
RATING: Rated R for content.
Note: I know that Enterprise hasn't been on television for long and the characterizing of the characters on the show may not be accurate but it's the way I see them. Bear me with here as I attempt to give some life to this. ~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Five ~~~~~~~~~~ Sublevel Eight - Temporary Quarters
"Oh my lord," Reed muttered darkly as he stepped into the room. "That's..."
"The guy Hoshi was talking to earlier," Tucker finished as he slowly turned the man over. "I may be wrong but I think he's still alive."
T'Pol made no sound as she moved to check on the alien who appear to be leaking some kind of green liquid on the ground. "He is alive but he is bleeding to death." She pointed to the handle of what would appear to be a small weapon of some sort. "Moving him back to the ship for medical attention would be the logical course of action at the moment."
"Where in the bloody hell is Hoshi?" Reed asked as he glanced around the small quarter. "Travis, could you go and see if there is anyone hiding in the bath."
Mayweather nodded his head and headed into the only other door in the room. Tucker pulled a soft green scarf off the couch and wrapped it gently but firmly around the handle of what he assumed was a dagger. "We'll have to leave it in there until the doctor can see it. Don't want blood gushing out."
Archer nodded his agreement and caught Reed when the man's legs wobbled under him. "Easy there, Mr. Reed."
"Thanks," Reed sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, a grave-faced Mayweather came back into the room. "Anything?" The young man shook his head slowly, sadden that he hadn't found anything.
"Okay," Archer sighed and reassessed the situation in his mind. "First of all, Hoshi is obviously not here and we can only assume this was done to get to her. We need to get the wounded back to the ship and figure things out from there. T'Pol, you and Trip are going stay here and see if anyone has heard anything about strangers asking about Hoshi or humans in general. Mayweather, since there some to be some kind of communications jammer around here, you are going to run back to the ship and get the doctor out here. We need him and some more crewmen to carry our wounded back. Take care of him," pointing to the down alien, "first. Sorry Malcolm, I know you are hurting right now but I believe that he's injuries are more serious."
"Don't apologize, sir." Reed made a face, more of disgust than pain. "Serves me right for leaving Hoshi alone in the first place."
"Not your fault." Archer patted the man on the arm and nodded for Mayweather to take off first, which he young man did phaser first.
"Yeah," Tucker sighed and leaned his arm against the wall while T'Pol attended their bleeding alien friend. "My fault entirely. Shouldn't have left the two of your alone like that. Stupid, stupid, stupid..." Trip hit his forehead hard with the palm of his head.
"Stop that!" Archer snapped. "Both of you. It was not foreseen and that was my fault. We need to move pass that, Hoshi is missing and possibly hurt. Our first priority is to her safety. You guys want to feel guilty, do it on your own time." He said ruthlessly. The last thing the two men needed was sympathy; they needed a way to be useful. "Trip, you and T'Pol stay here until the medical team gets here. Then you're to go back and canvas the area. Leave no stone unturned and no witness unquestioned. Malcolm, once you're patched up, I want you to take a look at the knife that Dr. Phlox will be extracting from our friend over there. I want the make and origin of that weapon in my hand. If we're lucky, Hoshi may not have been taken of the station. Let's see if we can find them before they move her. Obviously they want her alive for some reason, lets find her before she becomes 'un'-alive." He watched his men carefully, noting the determination in their eyes. "Okay, let's get to work."
~~~~~~~~~~ Klingon Warbird Kollarg
The Klingons apparently saw no reason as to tie her up, since they were a) aboard their ship, b) in outer space, and c) no one wanted get close enough to the crying woman to do so. Hoshi had realized after not too long that her high pitched wailing were none too kind to the Klingon's sensitive ears. Therefore, whenever anyone one of them approached her, she would let out a wonderfully loud scream of fright. She found that this worked rather well.
Unfortunately, even the discomfort of having a near hysterical woman with them didn't deter the warriors from taking her from Mr. Chiqu-Shue's quarters. Hoshi sincerely hoped that the man was not harmed when the Klingons forcefully extracted her from the safely of behind the big soft chair that she had try to hide herself behind once they made their intentions care. Why she thought that the chair was going to protect her was beyond her, perhaps one of those naturally instinctive movements that have yet to be evolved out of the human psyche.
With a sigh, Hoshi took a good look at the room that the Klingon with the red eye-patched Klingon had thrust her in while she was making pathetic noises since his grip on her arm had been excruciatingly tight. She had to admit that the man let up some when she first cried out with pain. Apparently the Klingons weren't use to handling anything as delicate as a human before.
For a warrior race, the room was strangely comfortable. Someone obviously has taken the time to make the room comfortable for her. The walls weren't the same sharp silver gray as the corridors and bridge. A softer pale gray drapes lined the wall, making the room less harsh and intimidating. There was a soft bed in the corner; somehow Hoshi didn't see a race of warriors sleeping on feather beds. She would imagine that they slept on nails as a way of disciplining their bodies. A table sat at the side, with her translator and other various assortment of instrument on it.
Curious beyond belief, she moved to the table. Someone had hooked her translator up to another device on the table, one that resembled her shipboard universal language converter. "Hum... they weren't kidding when they said that they needed my skills."
Being that her greatest love was language, she sat down and began to play with the two equipments before her. After two hours, she was pretty certain that her grasp of the Klingon written language was as good as any linguist that should come along. Her first opportunity to study this particular culture had been under rather precautious and dangerous times, but with the silence of the room, she's beginning to rather appreciate that subtleness of the language. While it was rough and guttural sounding, it was a very complex and a fine construction of centuries of change in the vocal box. It was very likely what the prehistoric sounds of the caveman on earth would sound like. With a little more practice, Hoshi was sure she could speak like a native.
"You have begun your task." The deep grunt came from the door that had opened not too long ago, but so deep was Hoshi in her study that she failed to hear it hiss open.
She jumped up and opened her mouth to scream but stopped herself short. There was something rather familiar about this new Klingon that has entered. The lightness of his hair was different from the previous three, and there was something familiar about his voice to her ultra sensitive ears, she could almost remember.... "Klaang?"
The big jumbled mass of leather, steel and hair nodded. "You are the translator on the humon ship."
She wanted to correct him on the 'humon' part but thought better of it. The last thing she wanted to do was irritate the already less than thrilled Klingon warrior. All she really could do now was nod her head fearfully.
He pulled out three thin disk-like computer chips from his back. "These are recorded conversations between the Kocklonds and some traitorous Redians, whose loyalty should have been with the empire. The high council will take care of the Redians, but we want to know what is being send between them. You will learn the language and translate the words to us."
Ensign Hoshi Sato has shown many qualities that were less than exemplarily for a space traveler, such as her tendency to 'freak out,' as Commander Tucker so generously describes. But no one ever say that she lacked curiosity. In fact, if anything else, her overly enthusiasm for her work made her both ideal for her position and liability to the crew. Her tendency to wonder off in search of new culture to study has annoyed the Captain one too many time so far in their short journey.
"You kidnap me to be your translator?" She asked, less frightened and more curious.
Klaang frowned deeply. "Yes."
"Don't your people have...."
"Not as quickly as you." He replied, rough around the edge yet still showing a strange amount of patience. "You will work now."
She nodded her head and took the disk from him, keeping as much distance between them as possible in the little room. "When do you need..."
"When you finish."
"Okaaayyyy...." She fingered the disks carefully. "And when I'm finished?"
The man looked at her with deep dark eyes that startled her with its intensity. "We will return you to your ship."
Somehow, she didn't think he meant it as reassuring but it did relieve some of her anxieties. With a weak half smile, she nodded her head and sat down to work.
"You will eat first."
She turned her head toward him with wide surprised eye. "Excuse me?"
"You are weak, small. You will need strength. We feed you food, make you bigger, stronger." He announced and reached out one hand, which clamped solidly on her upper arm. "Come."
Not that she had much choice since he all but dragged her out of her chair and out the door without even realizing it.
To be continued.....
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, the Klingon Mass Hall scene is going to be interesting to read, not to mention write. Wish me luck.