AN: Usual disclaimer, the rights to Star Trek etc belong to someone else. Please read and review – constructive feedback will help me finalise the remaining chapters.
Chapter 22
On entering Kirk, Uhura and Shyloh analytically scanned their surroundings. The frenetic pace of phaser fire, and the burning wreckage of two shuttles distracted everyone from the arrival of the three creeping interlopers. Utter chaos, there was no way to tell who was meant to be siding with whom. Assume everyone is an enemy until proven otherwise mused Kirk, the tension rippled across his features. Sporadic shooting seemed to move closer to the entrance. Scotty would have to move damn fast so not to be discovered.
In the far distance Kirk locked in on his quarry. Engaged in battle Freedan exuded an air of arrogance, however his stance alluded to an unspecified distraction. Craning his head to see more, Kirk almost missed Shyloh's signal that she would move off after Freedan. A staccato nod from Kirk, and side-glance from Uhura, Shyloh took the affirmation to go, silently weaving in between the crafts blocking her way. The display of Uhura's tricorder rallied her attention from an encroaching headache. On heightened alert periodically one or both would cast a concerning glance out towards the melee. Though away from the main fighting, if anyone chose to look more closely into the shadows they would be discovered for sure.
Shyloh nimbly stuck to the recesses stunning anyone in her path. Bodies silently fell to the floor, until her latest conquest refused to submit and screeched out for help. The noise, like a beacon drew the attention of four close by burly guards. Weapons out and amped for a fight they rapidly sprinted towards the unnatural sound.
'Zyakah!' Shyloh harshly challenged the unconscious form; his masculinity called out in the most offensive way.
Ducking behind a shuttle and earning a graze to her forehead, she narrowly missed discovery. Heavy footsteps trapped her in the hiding spot, and now cornered the only way was down. Wedging herself under the shuttle, there was just enough clearance for movement. Praying the habit of looking up and around would keep them searching at eye level, it was unlikely anyone would look down for her. Lying on her front the coolness of the ground seeped into her body whilst she counted 2 pairs of feet on each side - they assumed she would walk around into one of the groups. With a phaser in each hand, her arm swooped around as she cut them down. Anguished grunts were drowned out by all the noise. About to venture out, she tensed and snapped her head in the direction of more feet approaching. Her surprise attack not so surprising after all, a hand roughly clasped her heels and dragged her out into the open as she clawed the floor to gather purchase. Flipped onto her back, a swift fist to the face and everything went hazy for the female warrior.
Freedan continued on with the verbal lashing towards his cousin. His headpiece crackling into life stopped him mid sentence. Incredulously, he spun around his long striding gait marching straight towards the bound Shyloh. A smirk soon changed to suspicion, as her eyes burned with unfamiliar defiance. Unceremoniously dumped to the ground, Shyloh pushed her sore body upright. Snorting to clear her throat a globule of blood landed by Freedan's boot.
Freedan pulled Shyloh upright making sure the full weight of her body would be felt by her neck. Arms fully outstretched so to avoid her swing legs, he leered, 'where is Commander Uhura and the engineer?' In his quest to subdue Samson and Kulj'ita he had completely forgotten about the humans. With Shyloh's reappearance it made perfect sense to him about their sudden arrival in his tunnels. Staring over her shoulder, he scoured the shuttle bay for the proverbial needle in the haystack. Whispering into the ear of the guard closest to him - orders were left to carry on with Samson's extraction. Shyloh then found herself thrown over Freedan's shoulder.
In a single movement Shyloh was roughly shoved against the nearest craft. Pressing himself up against her lithe body he moved in ever closer until they were cheek to cheek. Shoving his leg between hers, one hand held her bound arms against the cool metal. From afar guards watched just in case they were needed.
'Where are your partners? I know you wouldn't be stupid enough to come here alone', his hot breath ghosting her ear.
Close enough to knee him in the groin, before she could act he backed away to face her. Nothing but malice emanated from his unusual eyes; irked at her lack of response, his free hand pressed a dagger directly at her heart. Slowly he began to bare down. 'Are you really prepared to die for them?' he rasped.
Grimacing, Shyloh croaked 'no' before cooly head butting Freedan with all her might. Down he slumped with a bloody nose, the distraction enabling her to sprint away.
'Leave me alone!' Freedan screamed at the startled guard stupid enough to draw attention to Freedan's impairment. Stumbling back to his feet and dragging the guard by his lapels, 'find her or I will kill you'. The frightened man scampered off blindly searching for the woman who had managed to momentarily cripple his boss.
Shouting out at nobody in particular, 'how many of Samson's men remain?' He puffed his chest out, determined to show everyone he was still in control.
'Sir, there can't be anymore than 20 left', came a disembodied voice from the background.
Irritated Freedan stepped back and yelled out loud confident his voice would carry in the open space.
'Samson is cornered. She is not going anywhere. I offer amnesty to the rest of her men. In exchange, find me the Starfleet officers and Shyloh who are somewhere in here or nearby. Dead or alive, I really don't care'. Twenty men plus his surviving crew were more than enough to subdue the interlopers. And with that he returned his focus to Samson and Kulj'ita and their eventual tomb.
Well shit! cursed Scotty. The difficult task had become an impossible task. Firefight was dropping off, and it was clear that new alliances were being made. Throwing furtive glances over his shoulder, progress slowed simply because he had to make sure nobody caught him unawares; a miracle he had gone unnoticed as long as he had. Staring at the flashing circuits, he carefully cut one then two wires. At once the alarms began shrieking, fuck, fuck, fuck, his hands frantically raced to silence them. But it was too late. A meaner than average looking Perpetuan lumbered towards him phaser out, every shot seemingly missing the human. Scotty threw up his hands to defend himself from falling rock, before scampering back behind the pillar. As an arm came around the corner, he grabbed the guard and using his position as leverage swung him into the wall. With a sickening crunch the guard crumpled to the ground. Sorry Scotty mouthed, hot stepping over the body back to the terminal.
Having been abandoned by his guards, Spock peered out of the window not quite able to believe the apparition in front of him. Low down to the ground he witnessed Uhura and Kirk intuitively working together. As one ducked to avoid a shot, the other would cover. He now understood why he felt uneasy, that familiar presence he sensed was not Kirk, but Uhura. His friends valiantly fighting were now out of view.
The jostling of the shuttle door drew his attention, 'Spock!, Spock!', Uhura whispered announcing her presence. Scurrying into the vessel on her knees, she panted the exertion taking more out of her than anticipated. A hand absentmindedly sought a pressure point at her temple to abate the throbbing which now enveloped her mind with a vice like embrace. Taking a moment to let the pretty colours of the aura pass by she shakily ordered 'Hold out your arms as much as you can' before firing off a shot to free Spock's bound hands.
'Nyota, what are you doing here?' A concerned hand rested on her shoulder.
'Here to rescue you and Jim of course', stated as a matter of fact. With a deep breath she regained some control of her body, pulling Spock into a tight embrace. Over his shoulder she quickly scanned the interior - everything seemed in working order.
'What is wrong? You do not seem well', Spock moved out of the embrace holding Uhura at arms length. He appraised his friend out of concern.
'I'm fine...' she tightly smiled at him. Uhura aware his keen senses would know something was wrong, but not the specific nature jerked out of his hold.
'You are lying-' his knowing response interrupted by the arrival of Captain Kirk. The Captain bound over to happily greet his friend, unaware of the tension between Uhura and Spock.
Together they inched further back into the craft. 'Are you okay, are you able to fight?' Kirk breaking the revelry of Spock's inspection much to the relief of Uhura. Nodding, Spock caressed his wrists aiming to draw blood back to his tingling fingers. He knew now was not the time to press Uhura for details, especially as she had begun to report back on her findings about the craft, their plan and Freedan's latest announcement.
'So much for the element of surprise...' Uhura bitterly concluded.
'Shouldn't it be dark by now?' Kirk questioned. It had been longer than the five minutes Scotty estimated it would take to complete the task.
'We need to get back to Scotty-' Uhura suddenly very worried.
'I'll go', Kirk resting on his haunches ready to leave. 'You two stay in here'. He had an ulterior motive, if the craft worked she and Spock could leave, she would be out of danger.
Spock silently listened to his crewmates, throwing his support behind the captain's suggestion. 'This would be the most logical use of Nyota's skills - contacting the Enterprise'. Also, if what he sensed was correct this might be the safest place for her. The wellbeing of his friend of paramount concern.
'How?' Uhura snapped 'don't you think I would have done that by now? I don't have the communications frequencies to penetrate the rock walls'.
'I do'. Spock explained how when Samson had helped him up after he fell, he had used the opportunity to read her. Telling Uhura the frequencies, she bounced into the pilot chair and began making the necessary adjustments.
Spock angled towards Kirk, 'Captain, I'll go and aid Mr Scott'. Stretching out his hand for a weapon. 'That injury you are attempting to hide will hinder any efforts to aid Mr Scott if he is indeed injured'. Casting an appraising look towards the wound on Kirk's shoulder. It had not gone unnoticed that his friend was having trouble moving his arm. Kirk gave a weary thumbs up, mouthing be careful to his friend. Neither of them were in any condition to engage in prolonged battle. Taking great care to describe the route he and Uhura had taken, it would afford Spock with as much cover as possible. Spock slunk out leaving Kirk and Uhura alone.
'Be careful Jim', Uhura muttered. Although focused on establishing the secure and stable comm link to the Enterprise, she knew Kirk well enough to know he was plotting something. With a wry smile, he focused on the tricorder his next objective to buy them more time. Forlornly casting one last look at Uhura and brushing his hand across her shoulder, he grabbed her infrared night vision goggles and then he was gone.
Spock crouched down behind some crates catching his breath. Managing to avoid detection, between the gaps he saw a very bloody and bruised Scotsman laying on the floor. Attending to his crewmate he dragged Mr Scott back to the hiding space.
'Mr Scott, can you hear me?'
'Aye', he groaned. 'Got taken by surprise, they ran off into the tunnels before I could stop them'. He tenderly touched the emerging bruise around his cheek. 'I convinced them Nyota was out there somewhere before playing dead. Hey, I'm meant to be rescuing you-', he groaned some more as Spock helped him upright.
'Mr Scott, just how far did you get in your activities?' Spock apprehensively looked around.
'Nowhere near enough if you're asking when the lights go out'.
'That is what I was afraid of...let me help you.' Spock hoped Uhura was successful contacting the Enterprise. 'Focus Mr Scott so we can accomplish your plan'. Frowning he watched the Scotsman surreptitiously eye up the troublesome terminal.
Getta hid in the furthest recess of the craft contemplating his options. With his knees drawn to his chest, he rocked back and forth emitting a low whine. Outside, the sound of somebody rustling around the craft's hydraulics. He knew his options were limited, the craft was immobile and rescue was not coming. His Starfleet training had covered scenarios like this, but now that he was actually in the situation his mind was blank. The more he searched for what to do, the more his training eluded him. Panic bloomed as he clumsily felt under the bunk for the phaser that was strapped out of sight.
More rustling outside followed by the sound of a mechanical flap opening. Getta thumbed through the phaser settings hesitatingly moving to 'kill'. Dead eyed he drew the weapon up to his temple, tears falling once again, trembling he mentally counted down 5, 4, as the craft door opened and light flooded in, 3, 2 – he gently squeezed the trigger.