Disclaimer: Star Trek and all associated characters and situations are the property of CBS studios. Star Trek Online is the creation of Cryptic and Perfect World. Tomb Raider and the situations therein are the property of Square Enix. All are here used by myself for entertainment purposes only, without permission or intent to profit. Stardates were calculated with the help of the TNG Stardate Calculator available on TrekGuide .com and may be slightly out of sync with those used in the game's lore.
Escape and the Bait
Solarii Field Notes, Main Island: Brother John Briar's record: Tuesday, May 29, 2407, a quarter till noon:
I knew that Starfleet girl would cause more trouble. She and one of the other Outsiders have managed a successful raid on the Communications Base, knocking out our comm network and sending a distress signal to summon a rescue shuttle. The shuttle crashed, of course, but that only means there'll be more Outsiders, more Starfleet on our island.
Father Matan has ordered me and Nikora to get our communications network back up and running by restoring some of the systems of the old Romulan warbird: easier said than done, but I don't dare disappoint him. The failure to capture these remaining Outsiders has stretched his patience far enough as it is!
John Briar coughed and scrambled backward out of a pile of debris on the bridge of the old Romulan warbird. A puff of greenish-yellow dust followed him. he waved it away and stepped back. "That's the last gas line," he said. "Try it now."
A wiry Klingon in loose-fitting armor brushed debris off of one of the bridge consoles contemptuously and pressed a series of buttons. "Communications systems are back online," he reported. "Took you long enough, petaQ."
John ignored the barb. Nikora had been part of Vamdar's house - his brother in more than the Solarii sense of the word - and it was obvious he and his brother Durtlhor held John at least partially responsible for Vamdar's fate. At the very least, they blamed him for the escape of the Outsider who'd killed him. John would gladly have set the record straight, even if it meant a fight, but the Klingon brothers were two of Father Matan's most trusted lieutenants. There as also the fact that Nikora was in the habit of carrying around a compact photon grenade launcher and wasn't too particular about using it on Brothers who upset him. John thought he was almost out of ammunition for the thing by now, but he wasn't willing to bet his life on it.
Instead, John focused on his task. He made his way across the bridge, careful to avoid the hole in the deck, and powered up the console next to the Klingon. "I'm setting up the theta-band carrier," he said. "Initializing channel at frequency 6.19 gigahertz..." The console chimed, or at least tried to: it's speakers were so damaged the sound was little more than a rattle. Still, John smiled. "Our communications network is back up. Sending an automated all-call for reports." It would be the fastest way to figure out what had happened while their communications were out.
Before John had even finished keying in the correct sequence, Nikora's console rattled. "I'm receiving a transmission from the sensor station on Island Two." He smiled coldly. "They're reporting a shuttle crash on the Main Island, near the Mountain Village."
John nodded and queued the information up on a display alongside the other reports he was receiving from Solarii around the island. He keyed the audio pickup. "Communications Center to Father Matan," he said.
"Go ahead," said Matan's voice, impatient.
"We've located the second shuttle crash site. It's another Starfleet craft," he said. "There was an emergency beam-out before it went down. Transport coordinates are scattered all over the island: one within a kilometer of the crash site, two within a few kilometers of the City, and one more in the caverns beneath it, in the Well of Tears."
"And the reports from the hunting parties?" Matan demanded.
"Vodek reports that the Outsider who beamed in near the crash site is dead, but he killed Mahraast first and Grokar's party isn't responding at all. They were the nearest to the crash site," he said. "The guards on the west gate haven't reported in either. The City may be compromised."
Just then, Nikora's console buzzed. The Klingon glared at it. "Your communications transceiver is broken, Brother John," he said. "It's registering feedback pulses from somewhere within the City."
John checked the readings. "It's not broken, and it's not feedback...Father, someone's directing sensor pulses in the theta-band toward the prison cavern. The signal is coming from the old shrine, just above the Well of Tears. It may be one of the Outsiders."
"Of course," said Matan. "They want to free our prisoner and they won't leave our City until they have her...but they've grown too bold coming here. This time, they will pay. Assemble hunting parties. I'll give them access to the armory. Arm them and send them to the shrine at the Well of Tears. We'll take as many of the Outsiders alive as we can. There are still some of them out there, and now that I know what they want, I intend to use that against them!"
USS Nautilus, Shuttle One Crew, Sam Hayashi's Log, Day Two, Stardate 81630.7 - I think:
Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored...
It's been five hours since I woke up in this makeshift cell that the Solarii - AKA: the Creepy Scavenger Society of Yamatai - made by stripping the hulk of a Type-18 shuttlepod and suspending it four meters off the floor of a cavern. I've figured out a way to escape by using my tricorder to recharge the shuttlepod's atmospheric thrusters for an uncontrolled burn, but there are two problems with this plan. The first is that the burn will likely destroy the shuttlepod, but that shouldn't matter as long as I'm strapped in. The second is that charging the thrusters up this way will take seven more hours.
Matan (the head of the Solarii) has threatened to subject me to something he calls the "Ritual of Fire"...but I might just die of boredom first!
Sam Hayashi pretended to pace her cage while surreptitiously inspecting it for weak points. Engineering wasn't her strong suit, but even she could tell that the process of converting the shuttlepod into a cell had significantly weakened its structure. The floor in the center was particularly noteworthy. It was a simple sheet of metal held in place by a couple of rusty bolts. It would probably give way if she just jumped up and down on it a few times like she used to do to her bed as a kid. She resisted the urge, though, since here the floor was the only thing between her and a four-meter fall. Instead, she concentrated on trying to figure out what would happen to the shuttlepod when her tricorder finished charging the atmospheric thrusters and they went into a brief uncontrolled burn.
The duridium chains that suspended the shuttlepod were thick and strong: they would certainly hold. She bet the anchor point in the cavern roof would hold as well. It was an obvious failure point that the Solarii would surely have thought of and tried to reinforce. That leaves the roof of the shuttlepod itself. She could already see hairline cracks in the welds there. So, the thrusters accelerate, the chains pull the roof off, and the shuttlepod crashes into the wall, she thought. When the shuttlepod crashed, the flimsy central section of the floor would certainly go, probably followed by the bulkheads beside it, which had been weakened by the addition of barred doors instead of their normal solid hatches. Probably the rest will stay intact, she thought, including me - as long as I get to the forward section and get my crash harness on before the burn triggers. She cracked the access panel open and peeked at her tricorder, rigged up to the thruster's power circuits. Only seven more hours to go, she estimated. She sighed, closed the access panel and flopped down on the floor. I hate waiting.
Just then, she heard footfalls in the cavern below. She sat up and scrambled to the cell door. Matan had returned, as had "Brother John," and this time there were half a dozen other Solarii men with them, each one armed with some type of modern rifle, except for a hulking Klingon who carried a bow - a traditional Japanese yumi, unless she was mistaken. Doctor Mor wasn't with them. Instead the Solarii surrounded and escorted three unarmed prisoners. They were three Starfleet officers Sam had not expected to see: Nautilus' chief of security - Rejes - , chief medical officer - Doctor Howard - , and the cute junior science officer - Alex McSomething.
"Alex, Rejes, Doc...I didn't expect to see you here," Sam said.
"Our shuttle crashed," Rejes reported, her tone bitter.
"We were trying to find and rescue you when we were captured," Alex explained.
Sam brushed a strand of jet black hair from her face, trying to cover her disappointment. "Well, full points for the finding part, but your rescue looks like it could use some work - no offense."
Alex smirked. "None taken," he said. Then a Denobulan Solarii hit him in the gut with the butt of his compression phaser rifle and the Ensign's smile vanished.
"Hey! Easy on my shipmates or you'll get no more stories from me," Sam warned.
"You overestimate your importance to us, girl," said Matan. "We have Doctor Mor now. We no longer need you to help us locate the Chamber of the Sun. We need you only for the Ritual."
Sam bit her lip. "Yeah, about that...have I mentioned I'm severely allergic to being on fire?"
Matan glared at her and Sam realized she may have pushed him too far, but it was too late to change that. He gestured to one of the Solarii, the burly Klingon with the bow. "Durtlhor, lower the cage," he ordered.
The Klingon nodded and stalked behind a stalagmite to work a hidden crank. The chains rattled and the shuttlepod was slowly lowered. Sam shifted position and concentrated on keeping her balance as the whole pod rocked with the motion. After a minute, the shuttlepod came to rest on the cave floor and Matan opened the barred door while two of the other Solarii - the Human named John and a Saurian - pointed Jem'Hadar battle rifles at Sam. She raised her hands and backed away. Now is not a good time to get myself shot.
Once the door was open, Matan drew his phaser and waved it at the three new prisoners. "In," he ordered. "Your fates will be decided later."
"Oh, good roommates," said Sam, trying to feign excitement while her insides contorted themselves into a knot. Her escape plan had not included multiple prisoners in her cell. There was only one working crash harness in the shuttlepod. Which means that when those thrusters go off in seven hours, the total population of this cell will be rather forcefully reduced to one, whatever it was previously, she thought, but she did not dare say anything in front of Matan. Instead, as the Solarii herded their prisoners into a line to move them through the door, she quipped, "We'll...um, have to make some adjustments to the...um, accommodations." Hopefully they would realize she meant more than dividing the shuttlepod into a girls' and boys' half. I'll be able to tell them outright in a minute, she thought.
But before she could finish the thought, Matan pointed his phaser at her. "You won't be adjusting anything, girl," he said and motioned with the phaser. "Out! Your time has come."
Sam gnawed her lower lip, but she had no choice. If she didn't obey, she would die right here. If she went, at least she had a chance. At least, I hope I have a chance. She walked slowly toward the open door of the cell while Doctor Howard walked in, followed by Alex and Rejes. Rejes met her eyes and there was fire in the Bajoran's gaze. That was the only warning Sam or anyone had.
The next instant, Rejes was in motion: throwing herself against the partially-open cell door and slamming Matan and Brother John between the door and the side of the shuttlepod. While they were still falling, she grabbed the barrel of the Denobulan's phaser rifle with one hand and delivered a crushing blow to his throat with the other. As he crumpled, she seized full control of the weapon and slammed its butt into the stomach of a nearby Solarii before using it to shoot a third - all in the space of less than four seconds.
It was that shot that finally broke the rest of the away team out of shock and into action. Alex threw himself at the Saurian while Sam tried to wrestle away John's polaron rifle. It was strapped to him, though, and while she fumbled to unclasp it he brought his fist down on her head hard. She fell away, stunned. She saw Alex knocked down by a savage uppercut from the stock of the Saurian's weapon. Rejes shifted her aim and shot the Solarii next to the Saurian, then shot the Saurian himself as he tried to bring his weapon to bear on her. A three-shot burst of blue energy flew past her as she did. Sam realized it was from John's rifle and tried to rise. Even as she did, Rejes was turning to confront the new threat, taking aim with the phaser rifle.
Then she gasped. An iron arrowhead had sprouted from her chest. She dropped her rifle and fell slowly to the ground. Behind her, Sam could see the Klingon - Durtlhor standing triumphantly, bow in hand.
Sam was pretty sure she shouted something unrepeatable as she tried to rise, but Matan knocked her from her feet. When she managed to rise again, the cell door was closed and locked with Doctor Howard examining a bruised-but-alive Alex inside. Around her four armed Solarii stood over the bodies of Rejes and four scavengers. The Solarii had already taken all of the weapons. They wasted no time with that, she thought bitterly.
Matan pointed his phaser at her and addressed his men. "John, Shu-zo, raise the cage," he ordered. "Durtlhor, take the girl to the transporter room. I'll meet you there as arranged."
The Klingon nodded, putting the yumi across his back and shouldering the compression phaser rifle Rejes had used. He pointed it at Sam. "Move, Outsider!" he growled. Sam had little choice but to obey. She stepped over Rejes' body and felt a numbing cold in her gut. There were no jokes, no clever quips for this.
Durtlhor prodded Sam and she walked in front of the Klingon up the tunnel and out into the sunlight. She found herself in the middle an area that seemed to be the unholy offspring of a city dump, a scrapyard, and a bachelor pad. And a murder scene, she thought, noting the bodies swinging from one of the support beams of an old Romulan warbird.
The Klingon forced her to march through the shantytown, meandering through the collection of garbage and scrap that the Solarii had assembled into a makeshift dwellings. Before long, they came to a ramp made out of corroding hull plates that lead up into the battered hulk of the warbird. Inside, the deck was tilted and the lighting was terrible, provided only by sunlight filtering in through holes in the hull. Movement between the decks was provided by makeshift ramps bridging gaps in the floor. Yet as they moved deeper into the heart of the old ship, Sam began to realize that the wrecked warbird was still alive, it's systems still functional, if only barely. Consoles flickered green and turquoise and a few of the internal lights were even working. When they reached the transporter room, Sam was startled to have the door grind open automatically at her approach.
Durtlhor smirked at her reaction. "We are not as primitive as we seem, Outsider," he said, the motioned with his phaser rifle. "Onto the platform!"
Sam obeyed and the Klingon moved behind the control console. He set the phaser rifle down within easy reach and removed the yumi and the quiver of arrows, placing them on the opposite side of the console - the side closest to Sam. She wondered at this. The bow was beautiful, made of layers of hardwood and bamboo crafted into a single asymmetrical recurve and lacquered to a golden-brown gleam. The limbs of the bow even featured some traditional Japanese engravings: serpentine shapes that could be wind or cloud. It was in excellent condition: good enough in fact that Sam would have thought it left its maker's hands just yesterday if she hadn't known that there weren't any traditional Japanese craftsmen living anywhere in the sector, much less the island. Obviously a valued and well cared for weapon...he loves this weapon a lot: so why is he taking it off and putting it on this side, close to me? she wondered. Maybe he thinks it's safe since the bow looks too big for me. If so, it was a mistake: the bow looked to be about 230 centemeters long - which was exactly the size of bow Sam had practiced kyudo with.
Suddenly, all the questions became irrelevant, though. As Durtlhor turned to seal the door, he knocked his phaser rifle off of the console and it clattered to the deck on his side. While he knelt to retrieve it, he turned his back on Sam. She knew she had to act immediately. She snatched up the yumi and the arrows and immediately put one on the string. The Klingon must have heard her because he started fumbling to get his phaser rifle and bring it up. Sam did not give him any time. She raised the bow and drew it quickly behind her ear. Seisha hicchu, she reminded herself, automatically adopting the stance she had learned from Iku. By the time the Klingon turned around she was holding the bow at full draw, and aiming it at his eye. There was no time for him to bring his weapon to bear. "Drop the gun," she hissed.
Durtlhor glared at her, but obeyed. "What now, Outsider?" he demanded. "You are surrounded by Solarii. You will never escape!"
"I'm standing on a transporter: escape looks pretty straightforward at this point," she shot back. "Display the transport coordinates on the wall console behind you, so I can see them," she ordered.
He obeyed. "Where will you run, be'Hom? This whole world is ours!"
"But you can't be everywhere at once, and you're not invincible. My friends proved that, didn't they?" said Sam. "Rejes took down four of you by herself, unarmed, at eight-to-one odds, and I gather from your little communications problem that a couple of my other friends made pretty short work of one of your bases." An angry rumble built in the Klingon's throat, but she ignored it. "As a matter of fact, I should be paying them a visit right now." She wracked her brain, trying to anticipate where they would be. If they'd raided a Solarii communications base, they wouldn't linger there: from what little Sam knew of him, she could tell that Drel was smart and staying in one place while severely outnumbered by a murderous gang of scavengers whose base you just ruined was anything but. They would probably check out the shuttle crash first, she mused. If it was nearby. "Beam me to the site of the latest shuttle crash," she instructed.
"Impossible," said Durtlhor. "There is too much interference." A patch of static on the display behind him justified his words.
"Then somewhere nearby."
"There is a cliff," he taunted. "Perhaps I should just beam you over that."
Sam bared her teeth. "Don't forget I can see what you're doing on the screen behind you. Try anything funny and I'll see if this bow can shoot an arrow out through the back of your skull," she promised. Still, she knew she needed more than a random set of coordinates near the crash. The crash was an obvious objective not only for Carlin, Sam, and Drel, but also for the Solarii - and she wanted to stay as far away from them as possible. She would need a place to lie low while she tried to contact Carlin and Drel. "Display that canyon in the upper right corner."
"That's the Arid Canyon," said Durtlhor. "No one goes there."
"You mean the Solarii don't go there, and you seem to have forgotten I don't like them."
He shook his head. "No one goes in the Arid Canyon," he said. "There are Oni."
Oni, the word was Japanese, the word for demons, trolls, ogres, and assorted flesh-eating nasties. But there was no way a Klingon living on an isolated planet like this should have known the word. Maybe it's a coincidence, she thought, but it had been a long time since she believed in coincidences. But whatever the Oni were, it didn't matter. They couldn't possibly be worse than the Solarii. "Beam me to the Arid Canyon," she said.
"The Oni will take you," said Durtlhor.
Sam's arm trembled. "I'm really touched by your concern, but holding this bow at full draw isn't as easy as it looks. I suggest you beam me over before I accidentally shoot you in the head," she said. "And after you do beam me over, just remember that I'll still have this bow, and that I'm going to find my friends. Between the three of us and these Oni you keep talking about, I'm sure we can arrange a warm welcome for any Solarii who follow me."
Durtlhor bared his teeth, but he did as she'd instructed, setting up the coordinates and displaying them on the screen behind him. In a moment, he was done. It was not a moment too soon, for the next instant, Sam heard someone pounding on the sealed door, trying to break in. You're too late to catch me this time! Sam chided them mentally. "Energize!" she ordered, and her world disappeared in a swirl of green energy.
Solarii Field Notes, Main Island: Father Matan's Record: Tuesday, May 29, half past noon:
The death of one of our prisoners was unfortunate, but it could not be avoided. We still hold two here to bait the other Outsiders toward our fortress at the Palace of the Sun Queen. But we need a closer ambush, more likely to neutralize their threat quickly. For that, Brother Durtlhor will arrange to allow the girl to escape to one of several sites near the last known position of the Outsiders. Our ambushers already lie in wait for her and her rescuers. It is a great risk. We must retrieve the girl alive in order to complete the Ritual. Never have I felt the Sun Queen's interest fixed so firmly on someone. If she is the Key, we will find out tonight. Meanwhile, Brother John and I go to meet Brother Durtlhor at the transporter room...
Matan heard the transporter whine and motioned for Brother John to stop pounding on the door. The man obeyed instantly. He was conscious of how much his failure to capture the Outsiders earlier had effected his standing among the Solarii. He feared his leader's wrath, and was eager to please in hopes of putting his mistakes out of everyone's mind. Matan reflected that it was a good attitude for a follower to have, but it was unfortunate that it had to be proceeded by such a costly failure. Still, he would get plenty of use out of it before it became time to hand the unfortunate man over to the bloodthirst of the Klingons, to appease them for the death of Vamdar.
As he was thinking these thoughts, the door ground open. Durtlhor emerged and bowed to Matan. "It is done, Father," he said. "I beamed her to the Arid Canyon site."
"Brother Kowar Was and his men are already in position at the canyon mouth," said Brother John. "They'll keep the girl bottled up, and when the other Outsiders come to rescue her, they'll kill them for sure. Kowar took one of the plasma mini-guns."
"I don't want to take any chances on this one," said Matan. "Brother John, assemble a second party and arm them. Go to the Monastery and wait there. I don't want the Outsiders to escape from that end of the Canyon."
"But Father, the Oni -" John began.
Matan glared at him.
The man lowered his eyes. "Of course, Father," he said.
"Good. Understand also that the girl is to be taken alive and returned unharmed for the Ritual at all costs. The others may be killed." He turned to Durtlhor. "You will assemble a third team and stand by to reinforce either party if it comes under attack," said Matan. He allowed himself a small smile. "I imagine you're eager to get that bow back."
Durtlhor's smile showed teeth - sharp ones. The bow was a trophy he'd taken off of an Oni, and it was his most prized possession. There weren't many among the Solarii who could boast of having faced and defeated an Oni warrior, to say nothing of having taken one of their weapons. "Yes, Father," he said. "Glory to the Sun Queen!"
Author's Note: This is a pretty big divergence from the plot of the game at this point. In the game, Sam never escapes on her own, Rejes lives, and Lara goes alone into the Arid Canyon in hopes of rescuing the copilot of the rescue plane (who, naturally, dies a gruesome death). Reasons for doing things differently here are several. First, I wanted Sam, the group's best archaeologist, to be present when the tomb in the Monastery was discovered, and the only way to accomplish that was to break her out first. Second, I don't have any disposable characters for Carlin to chase after up the Arid Canyon, so I needed to send in a member of my accounted-for cast. Third, using prisoners to bait Starfleet officers who are causing one havoc seems like a sound villainous strategy. After all, you know that Starfleet is full of goody-two-shoes who will always try to rescue their people, so if you put their people where you want their rescuers to appear, its a fair bet that they'll walk right into whatever ambush you've set for them.
Of course, none of that explains Rejes' death. That's because Rejes' death was unplanned. I did not know it was going to happen until I reached the paragraph just before the fight. It then occurred to me that if Rejes honestly believed one of her shipmates was being lead off to be burned alive (which she would, considering what she learned in the previous chapter) she would try to be a hero and save them no matter the odds. With eight-to-one odds and no specific plot armor to protect her, she was doomed...but she was doomed in a way that fit with how I'd imagined her character. I simply could not imagine her walking tamely into the cell while Sam was lead away, nor could I imagine her being taken out by anything less than lethal force (which the Solarii would use, seeing as how they only need human women alive for the Ritual). The only challenge at that point was writing a fight scene that didn't seem completely one-sided in honor of her heroism and at the same time finding a way to keep the other three characters from getting themselves killed as well.
Nikora and Durtlhor are based on Tomb Raider's Nikolai and Dmitri, Vladimir's brothers who serve parallel rolls in the game. Nikolai isn't seen to have a grenade launcher, specifically, but it is picked up in Lara's fight with him, so I think it's plausible that it came off of his person at some point in their struggle (as opposed to the alternative: which is that the Solarii leave loaded grenade launchers lying around, preferring to rely on bows and arrows and machine guns instead). A photon grenade launcher was the logical Trek equivalent, though of course it would have to be a compact model, since the one seen on screen looked like a mortar (TOS: "The Arena"). Dmitri does not have a bow in Tomb Raider, but he does take Lara's bow at one point and he is eventually killed with it. Giving him the bow felt like a good way to introduce it. The bow is based on real-world traditional (but probably not historical) Japanese yumi, but its decoration and appearance at this point in the story is a tribute to Tomb Raider's recurve bow: the second and most iconic of the four bows Lara wields throughout the game.