Zara08-All I can say is...things aren't looking good for our characters. Mwahahaha!
JWood201-No worries, I'm just glad you're still following! I was scared I'd lost ya haha. Thank you for your kind words, I always love your reviews! :-) Omg that sounds amazing, your Betazed project. Will it be something you publish on here? I definitely want to read it!
Carmen had been so entrenched in her thoughts that she barely noticed when they arrived at their destination. They stood at the mouth of a cave all of a sudden, its width greater than its height. Vines dangled across the opening, and from somewhere beyond, Carmen could make out the glow of torches.
"Bind their hands, and then go back out there," Kotar ordered his two guards. "You know what to do."
They tied up Riker first, and the girls next. As Carmen's hands were bound in front of her, she sent her mother a silent warning. "Move," Kotar growled, thrusting her into the cave as soon as the guard was finished.
A pungent, musky smell filled her nostrils. It smelled like an animal lived there. Twigs and dead leaves littered the floor, mixed with scraggly brown feathers. The cave veered to the right, revealing a large, rounded chamber of some kind. A group of Romulans occupied this chamber. All but two climbed hastily to their feet.
"Kotar!" a man greeted. Kotar ignored him. His gaze landed on the two who had not risen. One, who had been laid out across the floor, seemed gravely ill. Black splotches marred his skin, their edges raised and oozing with green blood. Another man sat nearby, watching over him. But to Carmen's surprise, he was not Romulan. He appeared to be an older Vakronian gentleman.
"You-" Kotar jabbed a finger his direction. "See to our new guest." He shoved Carmen towards him with such force that her knees struck the hard ground. She yelped out in pain as her ribs jarred upon impact. Riker surged forward to help, but Kotar barred him with an arm. "Any escape attempts, and she will bear your punishment. It is the only reason I am asking him to heal her-that she may be whole for the breaking."
A flutter of fear seized the commander's stomach. He thought of the pain Kotar had already inflicted upon the young woman, and how much more he was capable of. Yet he refused to let this flutter reach his eyes. He stared the Romulan down evenly while the corner of his mouth twitched in contempt. "We may be your prisoners for now. But you're cornered, Kotar. And you will answer for your crimes against the Federation."
Kotar snorted indignantly. "It is the Federation who will answer to their crimes. You think me a fool? You are the ones who declared war, not us."
This time, Riker had no answer. Carmen looked up from the ground, her eyes wide like a child's. War? What does he mean? Then she felt someone tug on her hand. "Come on," the old Vakronian coaxed. "You're hurt. Let me take a look at you." He pulled her gently to her feet.
"Dr. Gardener?" she blurted out as she came face to face with him. An expression of surprise flitted across his features, which had been subtly modified to resemble the natives. "Keeling sent us," she explained. "I...I'm sorry. I wish we could've done more to help." Though he said nothing, the disappointment of his dashed hopes swept over her.
"The rest of you, get back to work!" Kotar barked. "Unless you fancy a Starfleet brig as your new home. You too, Toleel!" The boy exchanged a mournful glance with Jora, then turned to join the others. Kotar appointed two new guards, who hung back near the cave's entrance, and the rest of their footsteps gradually faded from earshot.
"What do you mean, Keeling sent you?" Jora's question filled the heavy silence left behind. Carmen took a deep breath, gathering enough courage to face the young girl.
"Jora, we...I...haven't been honest with you."
"I don't understand."
It felt like someone had lodged a knife in Carmen's chest. How could she explain that the whole visit had been a charade, a ruse to garner information? Riker stepped in, trying to help. "We aren't from Ebon Plains," he said softly. "We came here looking for Dr. Gardener. But we couldn't let anyone know that. Not even you or your family."
Her frazzled mind grasped for comprehension. She backed away from Riker slowly. "Wh-why not? Who are you?"
"Don't worry about it for now. Let's just...take a seat," Riker urged. "We could all use some rest."
A hand pressed against Carmen's back, moving along the painful line of her broken ribs. Instinctively her leg lashed out in retaliation. Gardener leapt out of the way just in time.
"Easy!" He flashed his palms in a benign gesture. "I'm checking for injuries, that's all. The way you were standing...it's your ribs?" Carmen nodded, feeling a tad sheepish. It was always a strained relationship between her and doctors. "Well my supplies are over here. I'll fix you up in no time."
Gardener shuffled over to a bag beside the recumbent Romulan. Carmen eyed him warily. He gave no outwardly sign of being conscious, and if it weren't for the fresh blood seeping out of those strange black patches on his skin, she would have thought him long dead.
"What happened to him?" she asked.
"Hmm?" Gardener turned his head, following Carmen's inquisitive line of sight. "Oh, that's Siko. He got himself into some blackweed shortly after they crashed here. It's why they captured me, you know. They took me for a real Vakronian doctor. Imagine their surprise." He chuckled to himself, a dry and rasping sound. "I did what I could, but even the Vakronians have no cure for blackweed. I am only prolonging the inevitable. Siko will die unless they get him to a ship soon, something with a proper sickbay."
"What a tragedy," Carmen retorted, easing herself down beside her father. She clenched her teeth tightly against the pain.
Riker watched her, his concern visibly growing. "How bad is it?" he asked.
"Not bad," she lied, knowing he already felt guilty for Kotar's abuse. She felt guilty, too, for letting the Romulan use her as nothing more than leverage. "Jora-how much longer will this storm last?"
Jora had taken a seat as Riker instructed, but kept her distance from the group. She studied Carmen guardedly. As angry and conflicted as the girl felt, however, their bond still resonated somewhere inside her lonesome heart. "The rain will take a week, sometimes more," she answered.
"The thunder, too?"
"The what?" Jora blinked.
"The Drums," Riker clarified. "She means the Drums."
"Oh. No, they don't last as long. They should clear out some time tonight."
Gardener paused from rifling through his bag. "Does that mean-?" He caught Riker's eye and lowered his voice. "How close is your ship?"
"They'll be ready," the commander assured.
Hope sprang into the doctor's eyes. It proved to be short-lived, however. "How?" he asked. "Surely they took your communicators away. And a ship's sensors won't work through this atmosphere, we tried. We're outnumbered and outgunned. What else do we have?"
Riker smirked. "A woman named Deanna Troi."
"Here they are!"
Elion stooped to grab a couple of packs that had been tucked under a bush. Troi set them there when Riker had attempted to lure the agent out. Then, after Silver's abrupt appearance, they had been left behind in the haste to get to Jora.
"Well, at least we'll have some supplies," Troi said, giving the bags a once-over to make sure everything was in its place.
"Yeah, but we don't even know where we're going."
"We're going to Shadow Ridge."
"Have you seen that ridge? We could spend days searching just one of its sides. Hey what's this?" Elion pulled a tricorder from one of the bags.
"It's for extracting brains, when we get hungry," she quipped, and snatched it away.
"Hope you like cobwebs, then," he shot back, pointing to his head.
Troi laughed. "You should give yourself more credit, Mr. Elion. After all, you were right about a few things." Shouldering one of the bags, she set off into the jungle.
"I was?" Elion picked up the other bag, trotting to keep up. "Which things?"
Troi glanced at him sideways as he drew up beside her. "Do you remember that dinner with the Perler family?"
The agent blew out slowly. "Yes, I think. It seems like forever ago, doesn't it?"
It did, Troi realized. Carmen had slipped away after dinner, happy to be entrusted with a mission of her own. And Riker had hurried them back to their room, happy to have it all to themselves. Troi's thoughts danced across those memories. The way his lips scorched hers as his hands fumbled to open the door. The blissful chaos that followed. She shook her head, forcing herself back to the present conversation. "Well, do you remember what you said about life on other planets?"
"Yes...and?"
"And I think you were right." She smiled behind her pretenses, flimsy as they were. "A race of explorers would have to travel throughout the universe without disrupting other races, without influencing their culture and their politics and their natural progression. They would have to come up with some sort of...directive...to ensure that didn't happen."
"And if it did?"
A giggle broke through her smile. "Then I guess it's brains for dinner!"
He laughed in return, only slightly nervous that she may not be joking. As they carried on, Troi's memories continued to dwell on that night. To Carmen sneaking in at dawn and the pitiful sight of her washing up alone. To the young woman's fear that she had disappointed them somehow. To the way she called Troi 'mom' for the first real time, and how much the counselor enjoyed having someone to tuck in.
Troi halted all of a sudden. "What is it?" Elion asked, bringing himself to a stop as well. "Are you having those...visions again?"
"It's the Grolese!" she said, a victorious declaration.
"Beg your pardon?"
"The Grolese!" she repeated, as if that should clear things up. "Carmen showed it to me. She saw it that night. But Camus said it hibernates all summer long."
"Camus? Slow down, you aren't making any sense."
Troi threw her bag to the ground and began to sift through it. "We went to the tavern last night to ask around, see if maybe your partner had learned anything interesting. Ah, here it is!" She pulled on a piece of paper that had been carefully folded and tucked away.
"And what did you find out?"
"Camus said he was asking about the Grolese, a giant bird that lives in this jungle. Does this look familiar?" She unfolded the paper to reveal a drawing of Shadow Ridge and a winged beast.
"We saw that the other night! What an ugly brute." He shuddered at the memory. "Wait-did you say it was supposed to be hibernating?"
"Yes. And what if it isn't because someone found its den?"
Elion squatted beside her. "Good question, but how does that help us? We don't know where its den is."
"We do, in fact. It's here." She pointed to the picture. "Jora drew this after she discovered it on one of her hikes."
Elion studied the picture again. Sure enough, a few dark strokes shadowed what looked like the entrance to a cave on the jutting edge of Shadow Ridge. "I knew Jora was a special girl," he said, chuckling to himself. Then he froze. "Lady Deanna? Are you feeling alright?"
"Yes, why?"
"Your legs…"
Troi pulled her skirt aside and peered down at her legs. Black splotches crept over the surface of her skin, their edges raised like veins. "What…? What could that be?"
"Blackweed." Elion gulped. "I don't know when, but you must have stepped in blackweed."