Saavik ran down the darkened corridor, trying to find a way out of the facility. Five minutes would do her little good if she couldn't put as much distance between herself and the Centurion as possible. Think, think! she berated herself. She had spent years of her life here – where was the stairwell that led to the surface? She allowed herself a handful of seconds to contemplate her surroundings, piece together her memories into a halfway decent mental map of the underground complex. Down the hall from the main laboratory, around the corner…there! She spotted the correct door and hurried up the stairs two at a time.

A blast furnace awaited her. Heat that would make even the most stoic Vulcan complain had instantly begun to leech all moisture from her skin. The sun beamed down painfully bright, making Saavik squint after spending so long inside the complex. She found herself in the midst of the crumbling stone remnants from the portion of the Romulan complex that had been above ground. Rocky desert lay beyond in all directions.

More memories came to her, memories of running around this parched bit of land with other children when the buildings were still whole and the Romulan guards lurked around. The tall, imposing soldiers had been instructed not to kill the little bastards that they'd sired, but they took that order to mean that they weren't necessarily required to intervene if the children decided to kill each other. A favorite pastime for the guards was tossing out some food to the little savages and watching them fight to the death over who could get to it first.

Saavik shook her head, as if to clear it. She didn't have time to think about such things, to remember. If she wanted to put up any kind of a decent fight, she'd have to get over the closest outcropping of rocks before her time was up. She couldn't stay here, where the ground was flat and mostly empty. Here, she was easy prey.


Centurion Izvek wasn't sure why he stayed true to his word and actually gave his little bird her full five minute head start. Perhaps because the hunt would be more enjoyable if it was fair, genuine. He could have shot her while she slept, but there wouldn't have been any satisfaction in that.

"Izvek to the Nei'rrh," he used his communication device to call up to his ship, which was waiting in orbit. "The Kholhr begins. Do not contact me unless it is absolutely necessary. I will return when it is finished."

"Yes, Sir," someone on his bridge responded. Some among Izvek's small crew had thought that such a quest of revenge against someone who was practically still a child – and a female, on top of that – was not an honorable pursuit. However, after the few who voiced their opinions had met with…unfortunate fatal accidents, he'd been faced with almost no resistance. His brother had been the golden child of his family, and his untimely death could not go unpunished. Especially when it had been at the hands of such a worthless little excuse for a living creature.

The Centurion pocketed his communicator and checked his chronometer. A smile spread across his face. "Your time is up, pe'hlai," he murmured to himself as he left.


Saavik could feel her careful mental discipline beginning to slip away as she began to climb down the boulder-strewn hillside. Logic was irrelevant here; it wouldn't do a damn thing to help her survive. Fear and anger gave her energy, heightened her senses. She wouldn't give in to her emotions, not completely, but she felt that she could use them to assist her.

She needed to find shelter, some kind of defensible position. If the Centurion didn't kill her in the very near future, the climate would. The sun was brutal, and she hadn't been clothed in anything except undergarments and pants when she'd been awakened. She could already feel that her exposed skin was beginning to get sunburned. She needed to find something – anything – that could be used as a weapon. It would do little good against a disrupter rifle, but if she could force him into hand to hand combat, perhaps she would be able to delay her death by some small amount of time.

Why bother? some little voice inside her asked. Why waste effort delaying the inevitable? It wasn't as if she were trying to hold on in order for rescue to come. No one knew where she was or what had happened to her. The only person who could possibly think it would be worth it to come after her into Romulan space was Spock, and he had no idea where to look. For all she knew, the pirates really had killed him when they took her.

No! He's not dead. I would know, somehow, if that were true.

But SHE would be dead, and very soon. Why continue to run? It would probably be far easier to just give up. A lack of defiance would likely anger the Centurion; being able to rob him of a little bit of his pleasure from her murder would certainly be worth it.

However, no matter what she told herself, she couldn't force her body to stay still. Giving up wasn't in her nature. She would fight until the end, because that was the only way to honor all of those who had died before her on this wretched planet.


Spock checked his sensors for likely the fiftieth time since exiting the Neutral Zone. So far, his presence in Romulan space had gone unnoticed, and he very much wanted it to stay that way. He had almost reached his destination, the second planet from the sun in the five-planet system that he had detected earlier. He'd scan the world for life signs and hopefully be able to transport Saavik straight to the ship, then reverse course back for Federation space. A simple plan.

The computer beeped as sensors detected something near the planet: a ship. A small Romulan ship, just waiting in a low orbit. Spock quickly calculated his odds in a battle with the vessel, and decided he didn't like his chances. It didn't appear that they had noticed his presence, but he couldn't be certain.

Output from the sensor array caught his eye, and he realized that the planet's moon had an unusual and strong magnetic field. Spock quickly did another sweep; the small hunk of rock would serve him well as a shield from enemy scans. He quickly directed his ship into orbit behind it. Of course, his ship's sensors were now also useless.


Saavik was nearing the bottom of the hill when she heard the distinctive crackle of a disrupter being fired. She dodged behind a large rock and watched the shot go wide, causing the front face of a boulder only a meter and a half away to explode.

A second shot followed the first, this time impacting the boulder that Saavik was concealed behind. Using the shower of dust and rocks as a cover, she scrambled away to another hiding spot. If she had the opportunity to keep moving, if she could force him to come down there to kill her, maybe she could find an advantage to exploit. Another shot came, and she moved again.

She quickly realized, however, that she was no longer alone. A small pile of bones was behind this rock. A child's bones. Apparently someone had already tried this tactic as a desperate means to save their life. And they'd failed. Saavik just stared for a long moment, her anger and hatred flooding past any mental safeguards she'd still had in place. Had death been quick, or had the guards made the child suffer? Had he/she been frightened? Perhaps it was true that none of the half-breed 'abominations' were ever supposed to exist, but they were still living beings, and they deserved more than this. The incredible unjustness of it all was overwhelming.

Before she died, Saavik vowed to herself, someone was going to be the target of her rage.


Spock reviewed his sensor readings one last time before inputting final commands. He'd managed to get scans of part of the planet before hiding his ship behind its moon, and had detected structures that were unmistakably man-made. If Saavik was here, that was where she would be. He could transport down, find her, and have the ship transport them back. If she wasn't there…

He didn't allow himself to start thinking about the numerous backup plans he had also devised. If she wasn't there, then things would unsurprisingly be more complex. He ensured that his handheld scanner was functioning properly before holstering it, then picked up one of the phase rifles that he had brought and stepped onto the small transporter pad at the rear of the ship.

"Computer, activate transport."

Even before his body had been fully reformed, he could feel the incredible heat of the planet's surface. Spock quickly looked around for any signs of enemy guards, but there were none. He pulled out his scanner to look for life signs – two registered.


Saavik carefully waited in her hiding spot, listening intently for the footsteps of the Centurion as he grew ever nearer. She'd used a fragment of a rock to slice a shallow wound across her abdomen and blood dripped down her skin. There was no doubt now that he was going to find her, but if she could fool him, just for a moment, into thinking that she'd been seriously hurt, she could take advantage of his lowered defenses.

"Where are you, my little bird?" he called out. Saavik made her breathing shallow, calmed her rapidly beating heart, and closed her eyes. A few moments later, a shadow fell across her body as the Centurion appeared before her. Disappointment flickered across his face when he realized that she appeared to no longer be conscious. He waited for a moment, observing her for signs of a deception, before lowering his weapon and bending to one knee to check for her pulse.

Saavik suddenly sprung into action, throwing herself at him and trying to wrench his gun away. Two shots were accidently fired up into the air as they struggled. Strength came to her from nowhere, fueled by a lifetime of dark emotions that had been forced into hiding. The savage that had been created by the Romulan's torture had now reappeared.

The Centurion could not help but cry out as Saavik ruthlessly smashed his hand against a rock, forcing him to release his weapon as the bones were shattered. He kicked the rifle away before she could get to it, and their battle raged on. He was still incredibly strong, and they both threw the other against the rocks as the desperate battle continued.

Suddenly, the Centurion went down as a burst of weapons fire hit him. Saavik whirled around to look up the hillside for who had dared to intrude upon her fight. Spock stared back at her.

He began to make his way down the hillside, carefully watching Saavik for her reaction. She looked like an animal that was all coiled and ready to pounce, and he wasn't entirely certain that he wouldn't be her target. She no longer appeared to be the person that he knew; she had once again become something wild, primal, and dangerous.

"This is not who you are, Saavikam," he told her as he approached. "You may feel strong, but you are stronger than this. You are more than this. Remember all that you have worked for. Do not allow him to take it away."

"You do not know what he did!" she yelled. "What they did to the others, what they did to me!"

"Unspeakable things," he agreed. "But those things will not be undone by you giving in to what you feel right now."

It was a painful statement of logic that she didn't want to hear. Saavik lunged for him, pounding fists into his chest out of anger and frustration, which quickly melted away to unimaginable grief. Spock held her as her attack finally stopped and she broke down in tears for the first time in her life. "I'm going to take you home," he told her once she started to fall quiet. She didn't respond, but didn't resist.

Spock reached for his communicator in order to signal his ship, but was suddenly struck down by an incredible blast of pain that radiated through his back and left side. Breathless and sprawled on the ground, he turned his head to see that the Centurion had begun to recover from his stun much faster than expected. Izvek had managed to retrieve his own weapon and was shakily holding it as he fought his way back to true consciousness. His next shot would be for the kill.

Before he could squeeze the trigger, however, he was hit for a second time by Spock's weapon. Saavik had retrieved it when he fell and she fired, once, twice, three times on her tormentor. She then changed the power setting to maximum and fired again. The Centurion's body disappeared in a ripple of energy as he was vaporized.


TBC...