Chapter 26- Whispers

Peter grew accustomed to people coming in and out of his room as though he were sleeping in a public area like the bridge or a hallway. Thanks to his job, he sometimes slept at the hospital in a spare room if he was on call and it was much the same. Nathan and Uhura didn't so much as make a peep as far as he knew, he never heard them talking when he woke up and he just assumed they had stepped outside. But other times, he did hear different voices over the next several hours.

Scotty: "So, you're a doctor too?"

Mohinder: "That I am- a geneticist. And what is it you do here?"

Scotty: "Ah, not much. Just work miracles meself when we get into a bit of a scrape. Do ya' think that's a special ability? Cause it seems to be directly proportionate to the size of the Captain's mouth to get us into such a jam."

Mohinder: "I am not certain, my friend. But let's hope your powers don't fail us should we need them."

Scotty: "Oh, stick around a wee bit more and you'll see what I mean."

Noah: "They let you drink while you're on duty? I could get used to a place like this."

McCoy: "I'm not on duty and it makes me a better poker player. Care for a hand and a shot of the galaxy's finest replicated whiskey?"

Noah: "Assuming the rules haven't changed much, I could play a game or two and I'd like mine straight up on the rocks, please."

McCoy: "A man after my own heart. So, what do you think the chances are of the Big Bad Wolf showing up?"

Noah: "Knowing him, he won't lash out right away- he isn't impulsive like that. My guess is he will wait perhaps days while he plans something. Eager to meet him again?"

McCoy: "Hell, I'd be lying if I said he didn't creep me out a little, but I have faced down cases of Andorian shingles bad enough to make the head explode with slimy green pus and once you look that in the face not much bothers you after that."

Noah: "…I would guess not."

Claire: "So…you're Russian?"

Chekov: "Da."

Claire: "…That's…cool. I haven't met any Russians before."

Chekov: "I have not met evolved humans from the past before."

Claire: "Well! Then I guess there is a first time for everything."

Chekov: "Da."

Claire: "Does that mean yes?"

Chekov: "Da."

Claire: "Ok then…"

Sulu: "…so then she turns to me and says 'What do you mean Vulcans have to be in the mood?' It was the funniest thing ever!"

Matt: "Um….ok."

Sulu: "Oh, wait. I forgot that you totally don't get the references. Vulcans are like humans but not really. Spock is a Vulcan."

Matt: "So what do women Vulcans look like? Do they really…I mean can…is it possible for them to…"

Sulu: "Imagine Spock in a dress and that is what a Vulcan woman looks like. And yes, it is possible for humans to breed with other humanoid species. In fact, Spock is a hybrid. But the thing with Vulcans- and the reason the joke is funny- is that Vulcans are only 'in the mood' once every 7 years."

Matt: "Sounds like my wife."

Hiro: "Mr. Kirk…"

Jim: "It's Jim. Remember?"

Hiro: "Sorry. Mr. Jim, are there other space people?"

Jim: "Space people? You mean like aliens?"

Hiro: "Yes. Like Star Wars in a galaxy far, far away."

Jim: "Star Wars. I can't believe I'm having this conversation. Yes, there are other space people that live far away. That is where we are going."

Hiro: "Really? We will fight them? Zhuu! Zhuu!"

Jim: "What the hell was that supposed to be, a light saber? I hope we won't have to fight them."

Hiro: "I will help you."

Jim: "Good to know. Now you might want to lay off the replicated espresso before I lock you in a room with Jar Jar until you commit hari-kari just to make the suffering end."

Ando: "So I have noticed that there are many women on the ship. I got the chance to work with Lieutenant Uhura and she was very nice."

Spock: "Indeed there are many females that work on the ship. Lieutenant Uhura is certainly proficient in her duties."

Ando: "I was thinking of asking her to dinner one night. Do you think she would be offended?"

Spock: "I do not see why she would be offended by your request to share a meal, however, it would be inadvisable."

Ando: "Why?"

Spock: "I am not certain of all of the rules, but I am obliged to warn you that I am a participant in the game. I must clarify with the Captain, but it is reasonable to assume that men who look at her are to be dealt with in the same manner as the men she looks at. I apologize for not being more proficient in this custom, but I have only recently learned of its existence."

Ando: "Ok…you win."

Spock: "Interesting. I was of the understanding that I must die before a winner can be proclaimed. I believe that Peter is also a participant in this game, which logically would make him my opponent."

Peter rolled over and blinked at the pointed eared man in confusion. "Wha?" He asked half laughing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Sylar sat on his bed, staring blankly at the painting his own hands had made on the wall without his knowledge or ultimately his understanding. He knew that without teleportation this was now a future he would have to face and a feeling of dread stirred in the pit of his stomach. What did it all mean? Why were he and Peter wearing the crew's uniforms? What had happened to all of the people in the picture who were dead? Why didn't his powers work? Looking at the state of Peter's maimed body, it was clear his wasn't either. Who was the man that was towering over him as he held Peter close? But the most important question in his mind was why did it look like he gave a damn about Peter in the first place?

After what Peter had done to trick him, he deserved what was pictured and more. He never imagined Petrelli had the stones to deceive him like he did. A small part of him applauded the man for being able to pull it off in the first place: it was a rare thing indeed to slip past his many defenses and that was no accident. But the larger part of him was almost hurt that he would take advantage of him the one time he tried to be honest. He thought he could trust Peter, the one who was a terrible liar and always took the moral high ground about honesty and integrity. But he should have known- hypocrisy ran deep in that family's blood and Peter was not immune to seizing a golden opportunity when it was to his benefit. It was simply who he was no matter how hard he tried to fight it. They weren't so different after all.

In the darkness of space, a Klingon vessel floated helplessly adrift after suffering almost total system failure. The Klingons were by very definition not a fearful people, but they were aware that the Romulans may be lurking somewhere nearby and they knew how merciless they could be when seeking revenge. It would of course be an honor to die in battle and if it had to happen, the Romulans were a most worthy opponent since they felt much the same way about war.

The Captain of the ship, a man called Koth, was a well seasoned veteran of such face-offs and under normal circumstances would have been happy to add another notch to his double bladed bat'leth that had brought him many victories, but his orders from the High Council were clear: contact the Federation and request an escort- defend the ship only if attacked. This was against the standing protocol, but he had a very special bit of cargo on board that must get back to Qo'noS at all cost without the Federation finding out.

Because neither the Klingons nor the Romulans were part of the Federation, they preferred to handle things amongst themselves in a manner best suited to their respective warrior codes. The Federation, if invited, would slow things down with days of diplomacy and much talking. For years now there had been skirmishes and attacks from both sides that left a trail of devastation and caused a long running feud between the two Empires that was costly both in terms of time as well as collateral damage. The Klingon High Council was eager to find a way to quickly and decisively end the wars, particularly when it was rumored that the Romulans were developing a new weapon that could wipe out a Bird of Prey with one shot.

Unbeknownst to the Federation, and up until now even the Romulans, Koth and his crew had infiltrated Romulan airspace and gathered intelligence by eavesdropping on communications and scanning vessels when they could to gain insight on the inner workings of the defense systems. It was a long and dangerous process- at any time they could be discovered and taken prisoner, which was a fate far worse than death. To be captured and made a slave was dishonorable and there was no way the Romulans would allow them to commit ritualized suicide just to further humiliate them. When Romulans were captured in battle, they were immediately dispatched since the Klingons had no use for prisoners, but Koth had taken his first captive ever.

He turned from the screen that showed nothing but the vastness of space and slowly made his way to the bowels of the ship where it was dark, wet, and hot since it was so close to the engine rooms. Since Klingons did not take prisoners as a rule, ships were not outfitted with a brig for holding them so a special unit had to be constructed. It was a steel box really, with a small hole cut into the front to observe and pass food and the door was welded shut so there would be no chance of escape. The slat in the front of the box let in just enough light to pierce the darkness.

Koth glared inside at the bald head and a pointed ear. He kicked the door and it made a resounding ringing noise loud enough to make the engineers jump over the roar of the machinery. The prisoner slowly lifted his head and the light caught his dark eyes and facial tattoos typical of his kind. He hadn't baked to death yet in his steel oven, which was a good thing since his orders were to bring him back alive. The High Council would be most pleased at his catch. It was only a matter of time before the head of the Romulan Senate noticed that his only precious, scientist son was missing. No doubt they would send a virtual armada in search of him, but he was far more important to the Klingons. He was going to tell them the designs of the new weapon no matter what it took to get him to confess. And as long as he could keep his captive's presence a secret, the Federation would provide safe passage all the way back to the home world and defend them against all attacks.

"Captain," Chekov called from his station eagerly, "Ve vill be approaching the Klingon wessel in approximately 4 minutes time, Sir."

"Great." He sighed. He was tired from staying up to watch Peter, but it was his duty as the Captain to ensure the welfare of his guests. It was also his duty to make sure the mission was completed as close to protocol as he could manage which meant he needed his second in command. "Page Mr. Spock and ask him to return to the bridge and then page Bones to replace him. Sulu, slow to half impulse on approach but keep the engine running in case we have some unexpected visitors. Uhura, open a channel when we get in range. I'd like to get this over as soon as possible." A round of agreement came from the crew as each followed their respective orders.

In the meantime, Jim chewed his lip while he stared at the screen waiting to see the image of the Klingon Captain. He had an uneasy feeling about this whole venture, but he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because deep down he had a serious problem with Romulans after what they tried to do to Earth…what they did do to Vulcan. But more than that, it was that nagging feeling he had and in his experience that feeling was usually right. Unlike Spock, he had no problem acting on intuition and flying by the seat of his pants and he was determined to keep his options open until he was proven wrong.

"Incoming hail, Sir." Uhura announced. "I'm putting it onscreen."

The image of a battle scared Klingon came into view and Jim tried his best not to jump. It wasn't often that he had contact with them and they looked so fierce it put him on guard every time. "I am Koth, Captain of the ship and representative of the Klingon Empire." He growled. "We are grateful to the Federation for answering our distress call."

Something about the whole thing seemed off to Jim. He had never known Klingons to be so cordial- or ask for help for that matter. He nodded with a stern expression and replied, "Captain James T. Kirk of the Enterprise. We are here to assist you in any way we can." God he hoped his gut was wrong.