The sound of heavily thudding feet reached both their ears. The pattern of steps did not sound familiar, or exactly human to Phlox and Cutler felt a sudden and justifiable fear as she noted the sound. The outer doors of sickbay whisked open to reveal a pair of formidable aliens in body armor and with weapons. Others passed through the hall behind them. The Enterprise had been boarded.
"Ud! Rieh 'mok!" yelled the larger of the pair, gesturing at Cutler and shaking his weapon.
Crewman Cutler wasn't Hoshi, but she understood what he wanted plainly enough: he wanted her to come to them, and it was unlikely that they would take no for an answer. She left the doorway of the shadowy recess slowly, hoping that they would not notice Phlox. She was not so lucky.
"Sahd tsi rew?" one barked, gesturing toward Phlox.
"I don't understand." said Cutler, not daring to look or even glance behind her.
The larger alien pushed his subordinate forward, saying, "Lam 'hes!"
He grunted and pushed passed Crewman Cutler, knocking her to the floor easily. He slung his weapon, which hung by a strap around his shoulders, out of his way. The alien leaned down and grasped Phlox by the chin. He turned Phlox's head one way, then another, looking at him closely.
Meanwhile, the larger alien removed a device from his pocket and moved toward Cutler, who remained on the floor of sickbay, watching with some trepidation as the smaller alien prodded at her friend.
The larger alien kicked her and yelled, "Hcirps!" He shook the device toward her. Cutler reached for it, but that was not what he wanted. Kicking her a second time, he growled, "Sawte ghas!"
"What do you want?" asked Cutler, holding her ribs and shying away from the intruder.
"Rhem!"
"I don't understand what you're saying!" she insisted, waiting for another kick.
"Hcirps!"
"What does that mean?"
"Speak!"
"Is that a translation device?"
"Yes. Can you understand now, you thing?" asked the alien, giving her a menacing smile that revealed many, many jagged teeth.
"Yes, I understand."
The smaller one stepped out of the alcove and adjusted his weapon.
"Sir, that one is ill. He is no threat to our mission."
"What is wrong with the one in there?" the large alien asked Cutler.
"He is ill." she replied.
The alien kicked her again and growled, "Is he contagious or dangerous?"
"No, he isn't."
"Then we will not disturb him."
"And me?"
"Kered will guard you here. If you attempt to escape or threaten our mission, he will certainly shoot you." the larger alien told her. Turning his attention to his subordinate, he gave him the device and, he said, "You know what is required here. I have must attend to the mission."
His subordinate bowed and answered, "Of course, Mister Retep. I will
watch over this place until your return."
Retep walked toward the sickbay doors before turning and saying
in an almost bored and patronizing tone, "And don't damage the female too
badly, Kered. That isn't what we're here for."
Phlox had disliked the scrutiny of the alien and the unwholesome touch of his scaly hand and pointed claws, but it was the parting words of the other alien that filled him with anger and fear in equal measure. He began to struggle against the bond that the half sleep of the hibernation cycle had upon him. It was not easy to resist the call of the darkness of complete slumber, but he fought it, making every effort to open his eyes and move his limbs. Few Denobulans could manage the feat, and it was often injurious to their health.
In ancient days of armed conflict, a war had begun during a week when
a large portion of the population was in hibernation. The chaos of war
had stirred many to wakefulness, and they went into battle. According to
the records of the time, all of those who went into the conflict thus,
had perished, bleeding to death from minor wounds or falling prey to infection.
It was very dangerous not to let nature take its course, but that did not
matter to Phlox. His only concern was Crewman Cutler.
"You are weak, but not entirely ... unpleasant to look upon. What do they call you?" asked Kered, snarling and moving closer to the crewman, who remained on the floor.
"Cutler, Crewman Cutler." she said, not wanting the anger the alien.
"An ugly name. I think I will call you Alasru. I have always like that name very much."
"As you wish." she replied, shying away as Kered reached toward her.
He slung his weapon behind him and gave a short, guttural laugh. His hand moved as swiftly as a striking snake as he grabbed her roughly by the hair.
"Where are you going, Alasru? You are not attempting to escape, are
you? That would not be well. It would be very foolish."
He hauled her violently to her feet and tucked the translation
device into a pocket of his uniform.
"What are you going to do to me?" asked Cutler through gritted teeth.
"Telling you would spoil it, my Alasru." snarled Kered unpleasantly.
In one quick motion he ripped her uniform at the shoulder. He pushed her backward toward a biobed as she struggled. He touched her soft skin with one sharp claw and chuckled as he drew blood.
Crewman Cutler closed her eyes in terror as he began to slip the torn uniform top from her shoulder. Then Kered made a strange gurgling noise, released her hair, and dropped to the floor in a heap. Cutler opened her eyes slowly and saw Phlox standing in front of her. He was holding a metal container in one hand, with which he had undoubtedly struck Kered.
"Phlox!" she gasped, stepping over the unconscious alien and throwing her arms around him. He let the container slip from his hand and held her tightly.
"Are you injured, crewman?" he asked as she began shaking with tears.
"No, not really." she said.
"Good. I am very glad of it."
"Why are you ... I mean, how are you ... awake?" Cutler asked.
"I managed extract myself from hibernation. It wasn't easy, but I couldn't let you face such danger alone."
"Thank you." she whispered, glancing at the horrible, crumpled form of Kered.
Phlox patted her on the back and released her, saying, "I know you've been here for five days, watching over me and everything. It would have been unfair if I couldn't protect you too."
Cutler wiped her eyes and straightened her uniform before looking around.
"What are we going to do now?" she asked Phlox.
"He has a weapon. Perhaps we should take it." suggested the doctor.
"Right." said Cutler, kneeling and unfastening the strap. The weapon was heavy as she lifted it.
"How many of them are there, crewman?" asked Phlox, leaning against a biobed and watching her heft the alien weapon. It reminded him of one of those rifles that Lieutenant Reed was so fond of, but it was obviously much heavier and possibly more powerful.
"I saw at least eight of them, but there could be more." said Cutler grimly.
"What do you suppose they want here?"
"The one called Retep inferred that they have a mission." she said. Phlox frowned. "Your guess is as good as mine." she shrugged.
"Maybe they will complete their mission and leave without killing anyone." said Phlox hopefully.
"What about him?" asked Cutler, nodding toward Kered.
"Well, he isn't dead, and the one that seemed to be in charge did warn
him ..." said Phlox.
Just then they heard a sound that made Cutler's throat tighten
in fear: fast-moving and heavy feet in the corridor. Alien after alien
passed the doors of sickbay without even glancing inside. Cutler counted
fifteen of them before Retep appeared in the doorway. He looked at her
and the weapon that she held.
"Are you going to shoot me, you creature? My people would slaughter everyone aboard this vessel. We have what we came for. Let my man return with us, and we will leave you all unharmed. You may even keep that weapon. It is of no consequence. You have earned it, if you and the ill one were able to take it from that fool Kered." said Retep calmly.
"What did you take?" asked Cutler warily.
"You are very bold for a female in torn clothes. We took nothing."
"Fine. Take your friend and leave then." she told him, not certain that he was telling the truth, but reasonably certain that they were no match for Retep and his people.
Phlox and Cutler both back away as Retep walked over to Kered and swung the unconscious alien over his shoulder with little effort.
"Thank you. Your people have been great sports about this." said Retep over his shoulder as he left sickbay.
"Sports?" echoed Cutler, wondering if the translation device in Kered's pocket had been damaged.
The door whisked to behind Retep without another word from him.
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Note: If anyone recognizes the origin of the alien language, I apologize.
This is not a social commentary.