Chapter 34- Inferno
"I can't believe this!" Jim hissed as he made his way from the transporter room to the lifts with McCoy and Scotty jogging behind. "What the hell was he thinking?!"
"Which bloody idiot are ya' speakin' of, Sir? Spock, Peter, or the daft Klingon captain that thought it was better to off himself than to return without his hostage?" Scotty huffed as he kept pace.
"If it wasn't for the green blooded hobgoblin, every Klingon on that ship would have been slaughtered. I just can't believe he convinced them to trade." McCoy growled. "Stupid bastard."
"I'm not surprised that he talked them into it because if there is anyone they hate more than me, it is him. Spock I get, it's Peter that gives me a headache. I'm not looking forward to breaking the news to his brother." Jim grumbled.
"Aye, but he may look forward to breakin' your nose." Scotty laughed.
"I can only guess Peter has some kind of trick up his sleeve, he sure seemed convinced." McCoy panted trying to catch his breath. "Maybe he was reading their minds or something. He has to know something we don't."
"I just wish I could read his so I know what the hell is going on." Jim said shaking his head.
"So, what's the plan then, Captain?" Scotty inquired wiping some grease from his face with his sleeve.
"We go after them." Jim stated decisively. "Peter told them he would trade, but I didn't say we wouldn't try to get them back. Scotty, head down to the engine rooms and get the ship ready to race. Once we get them back, I want to be on the other side of the galaxy before the Romulans know it."
"Aye, Sir!" He replied with a gleam in his eyes. There was nothing Scotty loved more than a challenge and he knew from previous experience that the Romulans would give him a run for his money.
"Bones, stick with me. Once I tell our guests what happened, I might need your services." Jim half laughed. Scotty may have been right about Nathan and he wouldn't put it past Claire to try to claw his eyes out either. On the whole, they may not give a rat's ass about Sylar, but Peter was an entirely different business. As the lift doors closed to take them to the bridge, Jim resolved to get all three men back. No one man was worth more than another and there was nothing Jim hated more than losing a member of his crew, which as far as the Romulans were concerned Peter and Sylar were and that was more than enough of a reason.
Spock, Peter, and Sylar were chained at the wrists and ankles and led to the upper decks where they were whisked away to an awaiting Romulan ship after they were satisfied that their demands had been met and the crew had indeed been delivered safely to the Enterprise.
Sylar shuffled along the corridor while his chains made a slight chinking sound with each movement. His wrists itched where the metal cut into his flesh and it healed over and over again. He wanted nothing more than to use his telekinesis to pick the locks of the manacles and free himself, but he forced himself to play along and wait for some kind of clue from Peter as to what the big idea was. But as Peter was directly behind him, he couldn't very well keep glancing over his shoulder in anticipation without tipping off the guards, so he continued almost tripping forward because the chains allowed him so little room to move.
Spock quietly endured the humiliation of being paraded through the ship like a prisoner of war, although that was more or less what he was. He had no illusions about his fate: he knew very well that the Romulans would take great pleasure in making him suffer for destroying Nero and the Narada. He also knew the Romulans viewed the Vulcans as inferior and doubly so for him since he was a half-breed to them. Not human, not Vulcan, but something less than either. Although he could guess what kinds of torture he would likely endure, his suffering and possible death would have been the only logical solution in the face of many more deaths for the Klingon crew. He knew his future was dark, but he had faith that Jim would intervene. He just hoped that help would not come too late.
Unlike the Klingons, the Romulans did make a habit of taking prisoners so the ship was equipped with a brig. The conditions were almost as Spartan as the hastily made box Mendak was kept in, but at least the cells were a bit roomier and each man was placed in his own holding cell. After they were secured, there was a slight shift in the ship's gravity and that could only mean they had moved suddenly.
"Where are we going?" Sylar asked the Romulan that stood at the door of his cell with what he assumed was a large phaser. If the one Jim had hurt like the dickens, he couldn't imagine what being shot with that felt like.
"We have great plans for you." The bald man sneered. Although Sylar assumed the man was trying to be menacing, he was not impressed. For a fleeting moment he fantasized about using his telekinesis to open the cell and then cutting a permanent smile into his face before killing him.
"Don't do it, Sylar." Came Peter's voice from the cell to his left. "Not now." Sylar sat on the floor and endured the stupid alien's gaze, all the while disgusted at the dog and pony show he had been forced to perform in. If Bennet could see the cell they expected to contain him, he would have died laughing in their faces. It was almost an insult and if they believed him to be a god or mystic of some kind, he saw no harm in indulging them with a little show of power. "Patience." Peter laughed. Sylar was becoming irritated with having his mind read- it felt intrusive.
According to the internal clock that forever ticked away in Sylar's mind, they had only been traveling for approximately seven minutes when the ship's gravity again shifted and the guard ordered them to their feet. They were led off the ship onto a world that could only be compared to something straight out of Dante's Inferno. The sky was black, casting the nightmarish landscape in shifting shadows that were illuminated by intermittent bonfires. The hot and humid air was filled with a toxic smoke and the distant screams of people that couldn't be seen. They were pushed forward into this misery until they came before what they assumed was a Romulan wearing some kind of black protective suit that covered his features. He paused to look them over before finally saying, "Make peace with your gods now because you will never leave this place alive. Welcome to the pergium mines of Dhael."
Sylar didn't have a god to make peace with, but he glanced up at the blackened sky as if he did and a sense of dread filled him completely. "Peter," he whispered with an intensity that immediately caught the young man's attention, "look."
Peter also looked up and swallowed hard when all he could see was the bright ring of a sun blotted out by a neighboring celestial body.
Just as Scotty had predicted, Nathan had to be restrained from punching Jim square in the face when he heard that his little brother had been left behind and then kidnapped by the Romulans. Suddenly his opinion about Jim's abilities as a commander had changed and he was left wondering if anyone on the damn ship was actually qualified to run it.
"Let's think about this logically," Noah pleaded as he stood between a heaving Nathan and a somewhat pissed Jim, "Peter and Sylar suddenly volunteered to trade themselves to get you guys back on the ship and Spock went with them in order to save the Klingons. So, at least they are all together. I would be more worried if Peter and Sylar were on their own, mind reading and clairsentience would only get them so far. At least Spock can give them some guidance. He seems like a reasonable man who knows how to stay out of trouble, so that's a good thing."
"But why would Sylar of all people stay?" Matt asked perplexed. "I'll bet he will throw Peter to the wolves the first chance he gets."
"The whole thing was Peter's idea." McCoy refuted. "Sylar never said a word and it didn't look like he really wanted to stay, but he did."
"That's unlike him." Mohinder laughed. "To do something he didn't want to? I never thought it possible."
"Regardless if he wanted to or not, he did." Noah stated. "And that tells me that whatever Peter had planned, he bought into it. Now the question is, what did Peter have in mind?"
Hiro timidly raised his hand and waited to be called on as though he were in school. When Jim encouraged him to speak with an exasperated expression he said, "Peter is a good man. He would want to save everyone by using his abilities."
"He's probably right." Nathan grudgingly admitted. "That's all Pete ever wanted the minute he found out he could do things. It's what gets him in trouble every damn time. It was bad enough when he thought he could save the world, now he is trying to save the universe."
"He did save the world, "Ando said somewhat offended, "twice, remember?" Nathan started to argue with him, but thought better of it and just waved him off. He already stuck his foot in his mouth once over this, he wasn't about to make that mistake twice.
"Sir," Chekov called from his station, "the Romulans have disappeared from the radar. They may have cloaked or they may have varped away." Claire listened and looked over the mass of blinking lights and nonsensical star charts as if it could all magically tell her what that all meant. She didn't know what cloaking or warp was, but what she did know was that suddenly she had the feeling that Peter was now very far away- almost out of reach- and she didn't know if she should scream or cry.
"Finish transporting the refugees and see if you can trace any disturbances or locate their signals. They just can't disappear into thin air." He sighed.
"Peter can." Uhura hummed to herself as she listened for any stray signals from the Romulans that might give them a clue as to their whereabouts. Wherever he was, she hoped that Spock was with him and they would all return to the ship unharmed, but she had the distinct feeling that this time would be different.
Sylar swung his pickaxe with as much rage as he could muster. He didn't know what in the hell pergium was or why he had been placed on a chain gang to mine it deep in the pit of this god forsaken planet, but he found some solace in imagining he was bludgeoning Peter to death with each swing. He was chained next to a blue being the likes of which he had never seen before and another Klingon as well as a few other odd looking individuals. What was common to all was the presence of open sores and lesions and Sylar feared that without his healing ability he would soon look like them as his body accumulated heavy metal toxins from the mining process. He took another mighty swing and realized exactly how much he hated manual labor and how little of it he had done before now.
"Slow down, man." The blue person warned. "Save your energy. If you get tired, they will come and beat you for working too slow." He jerked his head in the direction of another guard covered in the protective suit that looked as though he wanted an excuse to use the nasty looking whip in his hand.
Sylar nodded at the blue man as the severity of the situation finally sunk in. He was in serious trouble and the guard could beat him and the lashes would stick- there was nothing he could do about it because he was once again a mortal. His wounds wouldn't instantaneously heal, he couldn't exact revenge, he couldn't even think about escaping. He glanced down the line at Peter who looked as miserable as he did and took another swing.
Spock had a far different fate on Dhael, one that he found predictable but still unpleasant. He had been strapped to a table in the main building of the complex. He assumed it was a science station judging by all of the flasks and vials that were strewn about the room and he further surmised that a nearby tray of sharp looking medical instruments were for him as it didn't look anything like a sickbay.
He knew what lie ahead and he knew how much the Romulans despised him which would only fuel their cruelty, but he was determined to face his fate without giving them any satisfaction in his suffering. He lay quietly on the table and concentrated on his breathing to mediate. He would, no matter what, endure this with a sense of calm and stoicism. He would not show fear even if he felt it, and he would ignore the pain as long as he could because that's what any self respecting Vulcan would do.
But even as he lay there, a small voice in the back of his mind questioned why the evolved humans had let him down. Why hadn't they used their powers to avoid the Romulans and get back to the ship? A small part of him blamed them for his circumstances. Although he tried to hide it, deep down he was very afraid of what was about to happen. It was the human side of him that cried for mercy and he couldn't help it.