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.

Trial by Fire

USS Nautilus, Shuttle One Crew, Sam Hayashi's Log, Supplemental:

Following my recent recapture, the Solarii (AKA: Creepy Scavenger Society of Yamatai) forced me to bathe and chance into a ragged white kimono for their "Fire Ritual" - a barbecue starring yours truely. When I tried to escape by holding one of them hostage, the others shot him and then stunned me. I have no idea where Carlin is, but I hope she escaped. I hope she and the others get off of this planet, even if it's too late for me...

...but I really hope it isn't too late for me!

Sam jolted back to consciousness. Her heart was hammering and breath hissed rapidly through her nostrils. She tried to move but couldn't. Her eyes snapped open and darted around in panic. She was tied to some sort of wooden upright. Cords of firewood were piled high around her feet. Beside her, the two J'naii stood, their disruptors at their sides and lit torches in their hands. Sam instantly recognized what was going on. The Fire Ritual!

She writhed in her bonds, but the ropes held firm. She tried to scream but a cloth gag had been forced into her mouth, muting her. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Please let this be a nightmare! she pleaded, helpless.

Get a hold of yourself, another, calmer corner of her mind scolded her. Hell, girl, you've been in worse scrapes than this before. What did they do to you to make you panic like this?

Memory broke through the haze of fear and she realized that her little voice of reason was right. I've hacked a transporter's molecular imaging scanners while riding a plague-infested shuttle down to a deliberate crash on a "Demon-class" planet - while being impaired by the effects of the disease myself! she reminded herself, though she conveniently decided to leave out the fact that the disease's main impact was to make her feel drunk, thereby making all of the former madness much more palatable at the time. And besides that, she told herself, just the night before last I lit myself on fire on purpose in order to escape from life as a crazy Bolian's pinata. I can definitely handle the thought of attempted human sacrifice without losing it.

Liar, another part of her mind accused.

Sam ignored it. She was calmer now, at least enough to actually start thinking rather than blindly and instinctively reacting. But her heart was still beating like the star drummer at a rock concert. She noticed she was sweating too, even though a breeze from somewhere behind her was actually making her feel a little chilled.

They drugged me, she realized. The stun-shots she'd taken should have put her down for a few hours at least, but the Solarii apparently couldn't wait that long, and Matan must have wanted her to be awake while he burned her. Of course he does, the bastard, she thought. So he had them use a stimulant on me, and evidently they did not go easy on the dosage. That was more bad news, but at least now that she knew about it she could mentally combat the drug's effects while she looked for a way out of the situation.

Matan was there in person, of course, as were what looked like the entire membership of the Creepy Scavenger Society of Yamatai. That in itself told her this was not going to be easy. Even if she did manage to get loose, she'd seen the way Matan moved. He'd make for a formidable opponent even one-on-one, and right now the little sermon he was preaching was ensuring that every Solarii eye in the cavern was focused forward right now, on himself and her.

"Brothers, listen to me!" he was saying. "Out in the galaxy, we were nothing, but here...here we are the Solarii: the children of the Sun Queen. She brought us here for a reason!"

Which I'm sure is just great for you, Sam's thoughts shot back. She struggled against her bonds again, but more experimentally this time. her hands had been tied behind her back and loops of thick rope were holding her back to the stake.

"I know that you want your freedom. I know you want to leave this world, but we are all prisoners here," said Matan. "Only the Sun Queen has the power to set us free!"

Again with the egalitarian-imprisonment thing. Sam would have sighed if the gag allowed it. Instead, she decided to try twisting her arms out from behind her. She couldn't, of course, but when she tried her left palm scraped against a rough patch of wood on the stake directly behind her. It gave her an idea. She bent her knees and lowered herself a few centimeters till the rope that bound her wrists was against the rough patch of wood. She ran it up and down slowly, grinding the rope against the wood. The fibers parted reluctantly, one by one. It was slow progress, but it was progress. Now I just need Matan to keep talking, keep the others distracted, and make it a long sermon.

He seemed willing enough to oblige at the moment. "In order to free ourselves, we must first release our Queen," he explained to the Solarii. "Like us, she is a prisoner here, but unlike us she has true power. When we free her, we free ourselves! She will reward us and release us: we will be reborn!"

Keep it going, keep it going, she urged silently, not sure whether she was trying to encourage Matan to draw his sermon out or the rope to disintegrate faster. At the moment, she probably needed both. She was less than a quarter of the way through the rope, which left a lot to saw through. Already, though, she was planning her next move.

Sam knew she didn't stand a chance against a cavern full of bloodthirsty cultists, but a hunch told her that the same technique of hostage-taking she attempted on "Brother John" would work even better here. If she managed to tear off her ropes quickly or stealthily enough to get one around Matan's neck before anyone could react, the plan might just work. i doubt they'll shoot their beloved "Father"...and even if they did, there's no way I'm gonna drop the body this time!

"This girl is human, and she carries the blood of this land," Matan intoned, gesturing toward Sam with his staff. "She may be the Key. The Ritual of Fire will reveal the truth." He motioned to the J'naii and they approached the pyre while Matan spread his arms and looked up, in prayer to his false god. "Speak to us, Himiko! Show us the way!"

A part of Sam wanted to tell Matan and his brainwashed followers how very, very dead (decayed, and blown up) Himiko was, but this part was overwhelmed by panic at what she was about to endure. No, no, no, no! her mind screamed. I'm not through the rope yet! I'm not ready...I'm not ready!

Suddenly, the cavern echoed with the sound of weapon's fire. the stacatto triple burst of a Jem'Hadar rifle sounded once, then twice. The J'nai fell sidewise, dead. All eyes turned to the side entrance on the far side of the room, and the source of the shots. Sam's eyes went wide as she made the discovery: it was Carlin!

No sooner had she realized it then her friend fired a third burst, this one aimed at Matan. The Cardassian ducked while a pair of Klingon thugs pushed their way through the crowd to get to her. Sam recognized one of the Klingons as Durtlhor. Sam tried to shout a warning, but the only thing that made it through the gag was a muffled cry.

A second later, the Klingons were on top of Carlin. Durtlhor grabbed her rifle, wresting it away, while the other Klingon swept her legs out from under her. Once she was down, the Klingons set upon her, kicking and punching her savagely. "You killed our brother, now I'm gonna kill you!" Sam heard one of them shout.

"This is for Vamdar, Outsider!" Durtlhor growled.

Sam gave a muffled shout and twisted in her bonds. Her ropes held firm, though, and she wasn't even halfway through the bonds on her writs. There was nothing she could do for her friend. God have mercy, she prayed. Don't let them beat her to death!

The beating continued as more of the Solarii gathered around. The others watched, but did not attack the downed Starfleet officer, apparently afraid to interfere with the savage beating the two Klingons were giving her. Meanwhile, Matan frowned, probably unhappy about being upstaged, Sam figured. "Enough!" he shouted at last. "Nikora, Durtlhor, bring her to me!"

The Klingons immediately stopped hitting Carlin. Durtlhor removed her phaser and combadge while the other Klingon, Nikora, pulled her to her feet. Then they both grabbed an arm and roughly forced her forward, through the crowd of Solarii. Her head hung limply, shrouded by a ragged mop of short hair (shorter than Sam remembered anyway), and from the way they dragged her along, Sam was afraid at first that she was already unconscious, or worse. Then, she saw Carlin stagger, trying to keep her legs under herself. At least that let Sam know she was still alive...for the moment anyway.

The Klingons forced Carlin to her knees before Matan, holding her arms outstretched behind her. Matan grabbed her hair and forced her to look up at him. As he did, Sam caught a glimpse of her face. She had several ugly welts that were just beginning to swell and discolor. She was also bleeding from a cut above her right eye and a bloody nose, but her eyes remained defiant.

Matan regarded her with cool contempt. "Every creature in nature will turn and fight when its very survival is at stake, so don't think I don't understand you, girl," he said, then leaned close. "I've just been doing this a lot longer."

He released her and turned his attention back to Sam and the Ritual. He picked up one of the torches the J'naii had dropped. "Ready yourselves, Brothers!" he shouted to the Solarii. "Our Queen is about to speak!"

"No!" Carlin shouted, but her voice cut off in a cry of pain as Nikora wrenched her arm behind her back.

Sam felt her own panic rising, fueled by whatever drug they'd used to revive her. She tugged against the worn rope at her wrists, but it was still more than a third intact and it held firm. I need more time! she pleaded silently. I need more time! But she had no more time. Already, Matan was thrusting his torch into the wood at Sam's feet. She flinched back as the heat spread, but she knew she could not escape it for long.

As the fire grew, Matan stepped back and raised his staff over his head. "Himiko, you are the first and the last!" he declared. "Speak to us now! Speak to us through the flames!"

The fire was crackling now, spreading and rising around Sam. She pressed herself back against the stake and pushed herself up on tiptoe, instinctively trying to get as far away from it as possible. There was nowhere to go, though. The flames would reach her any second. This is it, she realized, the end. The realization, rather than inducing panic, seemed to end it. Her mind felt oddly clear.

She could hear Carlin crying nearby, sobbing as she said, "Sam! I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

Sam wished she could speak to her, reassure her that this wasn't her fault. She wished a lot of things, actually, but she knew that, if this was the end, none of them mattered. She closed her eyes and prayed. God, if this is my time, I understand: I always knew this life wouldn't last forever...but if it isn't, well, I could really use some help here!

The flames were licking around the base of the stake, almost touching her skin, when suddenly a gust of wind hit Sam from behind, spraying everything with a fine mist. Sam's eyes popped open and she watched it work. The flames hissed and leapt away as the gust became a gale-force wind. Even Matan staggered under its strength, shielding his eyes from the smoke it threw at him and the other Solarii. After a second, there was nothing but smoke as the wind choked out the flames. A few seconds after that, even the smoke died away. Then the wind faded, vanishing as if it had never been. Sam sank down against the stake, trembling with relief, hardly able to believe she was unharmed.

In front of her Carlin and Matan were also speechless. Then, Matan grinned broadly, and the expression made Sam shiver. "She is the One," he muttere to himself, then turned to the Solarii. "Brothers, our Queen has spoken: this girl is the Chosen Vessel, the Key to releasing the Sun Queen. Soon, Brothers, we will be reborn!"

The Solarii cheered. Chants of "Father Matan will set us free" and "Glory to the Sun Queen" echoed in the chamber. There were also more than a few faces which had regarded Matan's sermon with boredom at first which now looked to him with reverential awe. Matan basked in the attention for a minute, then turned to his prisoners.

He gestured to a pair of Romulans. "You two, take the Chosen One to the throne room. Keep her bound and under watch: there will be no further escape attempts."

"Yes, Father!" said the Romulans. They picked up the J'naii's weapons and one of them held a disruptor on Sam while the other untied the ropes that held her to the stake. Sam knew she wouldn't have a chance to escape while they were watching her like that, and with Matan's instructions the chances of them lowering their guard seemed slim.

Meanwhile, Matan turned to Carlin and sneered. "Your struggle is over, creature," he said, then told Durtlhor and Nikora, "Do what you will with her: just get her out of my sight!" The Klingons smiled and forced Carlin to her feet. Sam gave her a backward glance and she could see the fear in her friend's eyes. Then the Romulans pushed Sam forward and the two friends were separated and led away to their fates.

Author's Note: This chapter is basically a retelling of the Fire Ritual cutscene in the Tomb Raider game from Sam's perspective rather than Lara/Carlin's. Other than that very little has been changed. The only substantive changes were to make Sam calm and lucid enough to try make a plan to escape and try to execute it, even if the plan was not a very good one. At this point I can't imagine Sam Hayashi just wallowing in self-pity and panic when she finds herself tied to a stake about to be roasted. This fits with my overall plan of making Sam Hayashi more spirited and competent than Sam Nishimura from the Tomb Raider game, even if she winds up holding the distress ball just as often.