Ships in the Sky Chapter 3- Strangers
Legolas awoke. What was that terrible smell?
He was laying on his back in the dark – there was someone very near, someone or something was trying to take his weapons. Whatever it was they smelt bad- like an orc! No orc was having his weapons, not while he could still fight!
He slightly relaxed his grip on one of his swords.
'Nob Dah Ha'DIbah!'
That didn't sound like black tongue. No matter- it smelt of Uruk-hai, and that was good enough.
He went to move his arms up to deal with the beast but his left arm wouldn't move and it hurt badly. Use your right. The Uruk was making enough noise that he knew where to strike even in the dark. There was the satisfying slick of steel through flesh and bone and the creature collapsed across him. He made to push it away- he had to try and find the others, in this darkness they would need him, since only his elven sense of smell would be able to track the foul spawn of Isengard. But he was so weary, maybe he could afford to rest for a short while, then he would find the others. They would cope- Aragorn was resourceful and Gimili was stubborn.
He became aware of others approaching him…several of them…three…yes, three. Definitely two humans, male, but the third…he didn't recognise that smell, but it was very pleasant.
He struggle to get the dead weight off him, it wouldn't do to meet humans laying on his back pinned under some orc, but the weight was too much and he was so tired. He hurt everywhere. They were closer now and he could hear them breathing. He decided he could at least be prepared to defend himself and raised his sword. One of them, a Man, spoke, but he couldn't understand. It spoke again and it was soothing but very close. It kept talking.
'Aragorn, Gimili, help me now!' he shouted- surely they must be near. He couldn't hold the sword up any longer, it fell from his hand as his arm dropped but he tried to find it again, scrabbling with one hand on the floor. The Man was beside him, it touched him, he felt it put the sword back in his hand. The dead orc was removed, gentle hands and calming words lifted him to his feet, the darkness seemed to grow deeper and he felt himself falling into its depths.
'Did you see the way he took that Klingon's head off? I've never seen someone move that quick!'
'He looks pretty beat up, do you think he's taking part in the festival? He doesn't look Klingon…more like a Vulcan.'
Archer glanced towards his Vulcan companion.
'I don't believe so. His arm appears to be bleeding from a wound and the blood is red. Vulcan blood is not red, it is copper based.'
There was no way around, it Archer decided, T'Pol was developing an outstanding ability of stating the blindly obvious. Maybe she was spending too much time around Hoshi, who also had that knack.
He moved towards the being who was now pinned under the decapitated body of a very large Klingon. The stranger began to struggle, trying to push the body away but it wouldn't move. The sword was again raised, dripping gore.
'Easy, easy fellow, we won't hurt you, we just want to help.'
'Aragorn, Gimili! Tua amin Siil' the creature shouted. His sword arm wavered and the sword dropped from his hand. Yep someone had given this guy a good beating, and not just one of them by the look of the variety of different sized boot marks over his naked torso. Archer gently touched his shoulder but he tried to shrink away, his hand searching for the fallen sword. Archer picked it up, it was beautiful, a match to the other one now pinned under the corpse. Archer put the sword back into the searching hand, were it was eagerly grasped.
'Come on fellow we need to get you back to sickbay for the Doc to look you over.' He beckoned for T'Pol and Malcolm to help him, all the time keeping up a one way conversation. They lifted the man to his feet and his knees buckled, there was no way that he would be walking anywhere in the near future.
'We'll have to carry him.'
'What, through the town?' Malcolm said in disbelief.
Archer nodded.
'But he's covered in Klingon blood, not to mention quite a bit of him own.'
'If you look around Malcolm you'll notice that quite a few people are covered in their own and other people's blood. They'll think he's been taking part in the festival.'
'Okay, you're the boss.' said Malcolm pulling one of the man's arm over his shoulder, Archer took the other arm and they were soon making their way through the crowded streets. No one took any notice of the bloodstained person they were carrying apart from several drunken Klingons who saluted them as them went past.
'Maj yob!'
The humans just nodded and smiled. T'Pol glared, which caused the klingons endless merriment. How could a Vulcan enjoy the festival when she couldn't show their teeth like the puny humans did?
Fortunately, they made it back to where they had left the shuttle pod without any major problems and the return trip to the Enterprise was likewise uneventful.
The man was soon in sickbay being fussed over by Dr Phlox.
'At first I thought he must be Vulcan because of his physical appearance but if you look closer you'll see that it in fact the ear tip that is slight elongated as opposed to the entire outer ear as is the case with Vulcans. Also none of his other physical attributes match them. In fact, they don't match any race that I've got on my database. I do so enjoy meeting new species. And such a remarkable specimen! Help me lift him onto the image scanner.' He beckoned Archer to help him lift the inert body onto the gurney. It slid into the scanner which hummed as it began its work. The results were shown on the readout almost instantly.
'Hmm, four-chambered heart, haemoglobin based blood, extremely strong skeletal frame work, very light bones but very resilient. Well muscled, well nourished…an extremely healthy full male of his species. Which incidentally is not recorded in either my or the Vulcan High Command's database.' Phlox pursed his lips slightly, perplexed. 'Extensive sub dermal haematoma over the entire body surface, extreme around the head and face. One…two…three- yes three broken ribs, slight internal bleeding on what I assume is his liver, yes that defiantly looks like his liver, and a rather nasty stab wound to the left upper arm, and a site of infection. There, I told you it would be nothing too serious.' Ever the optimist was Phlox, Archer thought wryly.
'Now if you people,' he waved his hand in dismissal, 'Will make room, I will get on with my work. Haven't you got anything to do?' He peered at them with his best bedside smile and shooed them towards the sickbay doors.
'We'll leave you to get on then Doc. If you need any help just give us a call,' said Archer as the doors closed behind him.
'Help? why should I need help? I'm the Doctor and he is my patient, what help would I need?
Nob Dah Ha'DIbah – Give them to me
Aragorn, Gimli! Tua amin Siil' - Aragorn, Gimli, help me now
Maj yob – Happy Festival
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