Author's note: Wanted to give a small nod to Anton Yelchin and tried to do so with the scout pilot, both with her pronounced accent and her repetition of "I can do this", which is borrowed from a Chekov scene from the ST: 2009 movie. Yes, I will admit that I have not seen quite all of that movie nor have I seen the other new ST movies yet, but have seen enough of Yelchin's Chekov to have fallen in love with his portrayal. Just wanted to pay a small tribute to him...
(Note/reminder: Lightly rolled or trilled 'r's are indicated by ř. Some G'l Benai roll almost all their 'r's, some don't roll any of them.)
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"It is gratifying that one of Koshneer's crew has survived to speak of the crimes committed against his captain and their passengers, ship, and crew. We are still securing our territory but ships will arrive there in two days to destroy the Human vessel and bring you home."
Studying the men on the viewscreen and taking a deep breath to steady himself, Thelik straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders as he considered what he would say. The generals, each wearing the traditional weaponry and armor of their respective provinces, decorated with various medals and markings designating their different histories of service, were not the least intimidating to him. What was intimidating were his emotions regarding these men: the sight of them had sparked such anger and loathing that he found the emotions hard to rein in. After all, if not for these kenjit-eating sons of ghallas none of this would have even happened. Their apparent belief that his captain and the others were already dead did little to improve his mood.
He knew what he wanted to do. Maiming them would be immensely satisfying...but, he supposed, ill-mannered even if it were possible to do so from here. Many of them were old enough to be considered elders, after all, and drawing an elder's blood was considered reprehensible. Still, wasn't what they'd done to his captain reprehensible? At the very least he wanted to tell them all exactly what he thought of them. For his captain, though, Thelik pushed such derisive opinions to the back of his mind: being rude to them would not help get the permission the Humans needed to remain in their territory. Without that permission he could not help his captain and the others. So, if he could restrain his anger, maintain his patience, and at least feign respect for a short time he might persuade them to see things his way. His cherished uncle had once told him that negotiating was like listening for the ushpah beneath the ice; if you become impatient and strike too soon you come away from the hunt with no meat. He gave a deep, courteous bow, in deference not to the generals before him but to his captain.
"I would ask the Council's indulgence," he began politely. "I tell you with certainty that the Human ship now in proximity to Koshneer is not the one that attacked us. Indeed, they ventured into our territory despite the risk to render aid to my captain, though they arrived too late to prevent or end the initial attack. When I first encountered them I, too, desired their destruction, and succeeded in disabling their ship and defeating their First Tactical in personal combat. I now know that theirs is a civilian transport as well, and they seek only to render aid in hopes of repairing their honor, which was damaged by others of their kind. All that is required for that to happen is for the Council to grant them permission to remain in our territory so they may help me locate and assist my captain and those under his care. Therefore, I respectfully request that the Human ship En-tier-přice be granted clearance to remain and aid my captain."
"Preposterous. Whether they are the actual attackers is irrelevant. They must be destroyed as an example to others who would attack us without cause. Your disabling of their vessel was a good start. In two days we will complete the task."
He sighed so softly that it went unheard. He had strongly suspected things would not go well but had hoped they would at least hear him out. Very well...he would simply have to work a little harder to change their minds. And he had one potent weapon at his disposal. Wishing they could choke on his politeness he tamped down his displeasure and banished the faint hunter's smile that tried to flit across his lips. His voice was honey as he spoke. "With respect, General, such action would be...regrettable."
"Clarify," one of the younger generals snapped angrily. "How would protecting our territory from aggressors be regrettable?"
"Ignoring for a moment the fact that these Humans are not the aggressors who attacked us...and ignoring for a moment the fact that they are civilians...it would be regrettable because after I vanquished his First Tactical and disabled his ship," he said almost casually, "En-tier-přice Captain yielded his vessel." He paused again to let the now-murmuring generals chew on that piece of information before continuing. "On my captain's behalf...I accepted." There was an explosion of angry voices as the generals began their indignant objections, each repeatedly pounding a fist against their armored chests for emphasis. Thelik waited for the chorus of protests to die down. "Having accepted the yielding, I must now defend En-tier-přice and those who serve on it." A fresh round of indecipherable protests filled his ears.
"Of course it was absurd to accept," one older, condescendingly jovial voice spoke once the generals' voices began to fade, sounding as if he were addressing a misguided child. "But this error is easy enough to remedy. You will simply rescind the yielding, then kill their Captain and Firsts. Probably best to kill the Seconds, too." Murmurs of agreement came from the other generals.
They were going to make him quote regulations and explain the finer points of post-battle ethics to them, weren't they? With a quick reassuring glance at his guests the warrior shook his head. "Not as easily done as you suggest, General. I am only Third Tactical, but in the absence of my captain as well as First and Second Tactical, I am presently caring for Koshneer and in accordance with regulations I must do so until my captain either returns or is found. To the best of my ability I must act on his behalf, doing what I believe he would have me do in his absence. I must also attempt to find and aid him and those under his care. These Humans have offered to assist me with that task and their captain yielded his ship to prove his sincerity. Without their assistance I cannot adequately fulfill my obligations to my captain and those under his care.
"As I have said, I accepted the yielding on behalf of my captain." He spoke the last words slowly and paused to once again let the important distinction sink in, since the generals had obviously ignored it the first time. Just in case they still wanted to pretend to not comprehend, he elaborated. "Therefore, only my captain can rescind the yielding upon his return, though I doubt he would do such a thing. To my knowledge no one has ever rescinded a yielding without provocation." He had to wait for the newest outcry to subside before he could continue. "I deem the orders to rescind the yielding and kill these people to be unlawful. Therefore, the yielding remains in effect, and I will protect those on the yielded ship until my captain's return. If I must defend them from my fellow G'l Benai then that is what I shall do," he assured them with a faintly menacing tone, "unpleasant as that would be for all involved." The stunned silence was almost as deafening as the earlier protests.
"This is ridiculous," one of the generals finally said. "You expect us to believe that you would do battle against your own people to protect these...these creatures?" Claws extended he gestured in disgust toward Archer and Sato, who were still standing immobile and mute in front of the communications console.
"With respect, Generals...what you believe is of little consequence." As the generals muttered their shocked displeasure Thelik successfully held his anger in check—the time spent debating with these pompous old men would be better spent finding his captain, after all! 'For my captain...for my captain,' he reminded himself. 'For my captain I will tolerate their absurdity for a while longer.' "I have said I will protect them and that is what I shall do, with my dying breath if needed. Whether I must defend them from Nausicans, Klingons, or G'l Benai makes no difference."
The generals' anger flared again—being lumped in with Nausicans was bad enough, but Klingons?! Mingled with the chest pounding and loud, overlapping voices Thelik made out several promises to personally participate in his slow, painful execution. He simply stood there and listened, seemingly ignoring the threats and insults. As the voices again began to taper off his keen hearing picked up mention of his captain. Unseen inside his helmet his ears slowly flattened against the top of his head and his pulse quickened; his patience had already been steadily eroding in the path of growing annoyance and anger. Petty aspersions to himself were easy enough to overlook, but if he had heard correctly...
"What did you say about my captain?" he asked sharply, his deep, rumbling voice as arctic as his home province. Part of him wanted to turn from the screen in disgust, but if he had heard correctly he wanted to see the face of the one who had insulted his captain. That way he'd know which one to hunt down and disembowel when he returned to the homeworld.
"I said," sneered the general in question—one of the youngest of them—as he strode to the front of the council chambers, "that this mission was foolish enough to begin without now having to contend with the softhearted, soft-headed Third Tactical who served a captain who was too weak and incompetent to properly protect those under his care. Wherever he is now, your captain should be left to his fate, na'oosh tcha'a take him."
All semblance of patient, respectful comportment gone, Thelik exploded like a case of overloaded phase pistols. The stentorian scream of rage defied any translator's attempts to decipher and left all their ears ringing, Human and G'l Benai alike. The immediate target of his fury took several rapid, fearful steps back as the bellowing warrior rhythmically pounded his chest with both fists and stormed closer to the viewscreen. The rest of the generals flinched away from the screen as well while the primal roar evolved into a snarling, hissing string of profanities and insults that called into question the honor and parentage of the whole roomful of them.
"How DARE you speak of him in such a way!" he raged when he finally became fully coherent again. Taking a few seconds to steady his breathing he continued, his voice controlled—barely—but his anger still white-hot. "You covey of mindless fools," he growled. "You sit there safely tucked in your chambers screaming your impotent threats and insults at me like a burrow of mating tokesh...roar on, you toothless old men! Am I supposed to fear your roars when I fear neither your swords or claws or teeth? I am Deshkai'i, and we fear very little. Indeed, we learn early in life that there are only two things truly worth fearing: the wrath of an angry woman, and a dishonorable death. I know there are no women among you because women are too intelligent to be generals, and dying to aid one's captain can hardly be called a dishonorable end.
"I have faced in battle Klingons, Orions, Ahdorians, and even creatures unknown to us, and feared none of them. I fought at Mohřdah Chesh, watching more than 400,000 of my fellow G'l Benai die in defense of our people, and the only thing I feared then was that the savages we battled would enslave our people if we failed to annihilate them. Why, then, should I fear any of you?!" He glared at the dumbstruck assembly with an intensity that threatened to melt the screen. "The ones who should be fearful," he pressed on with unconcealed loathing in his voice, "are those who sent my captain on this mission after having robbed him of the ability to properly defend those under his care. You mentioned the crimes committed against my captain," he glowered at them as his righteous rage flared anew. "Who ordered his crew cut to the barest minimum? Who ordered his ship reclassified from a Dagger-class light troop carrier to a civilian transport?" he shouted. "Who ordered his ship stripped of all but the most minimal defenses? We were sent out with nothing more than navigational shielding and a few torpedoes deemed too antiquated to be taken from us. The camouflaged scout ship now hovering near my captain's ship would have fared better against our attackers, and scout ships are not even designed for combat! And because we were sent with insufficient defenses and insufficient numbers my captain and those under his care had to flee the ship, and my wife and children were among those killed in the attack.
"The only thing there is for me to fear is a dishonorable death, and I know that seeking out my captain and rendering aid is the only honorable course of action. These Humans seek to repair their damaged honor by assisting me. Their captain lawfully yielded and that yielding was lawfully accepted so honor demands that I defend his ship and crew; if you force me to defend them from other G'l Benai so be it, but you should know that if you choose that course those whom you send will be told about your part in this...they will know that your actions directly caused the deaths and damages suffered on Koshneer. So tell me who among us has more to fear—a Deshkai'i whose captain, comrades, and family have been stolen from him, or those who helped steal them?"
Taking a step back from the viewscreen he gave them all a disgusted sneer before resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. "If you are so eager for battle, Generals," he purred, "you are welcome to scrape the rust from your blades and seek me out...I will not be hard to find. Come, and we can discuss the crimes committed against my captain and those under his care...and how best to punish those crimes." His sneer shifted to a predatory, toothy grin as he lovingly, eagerly caressed the hilt. "But if you come, remember that I am Deshkai'i. We do not die easily...and we do not die alone." His bared teeth and the gleam in his eyes told the generals and everyone else watching that this last was neither hyperbole nor an empty threat. The silence held sway for over a minute before one of the older generals cautiously stepped forward.
"We shall consider your request. Stand by." The screen went black.
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The Enterprise bridge crew had watched the exchange in silence. Things had been tense enough when the warrior had first contacted that scout ship—when Thelik had grabbed their shipmates' air lines T'Pol had come up out of her seat and Trip had his hands full stopping Malcolm when the enraged lieutenant had reflexively lunged at the screen to get at the behemoth. The warrior had blocked both their video and audio transmissions to keep them from interrupting his negotiations with the generals, so although they saw and heard everything said by the aliens any protests at the manhandling of Archer and Sato had gone unheard by the aliens.
The sheer volume of Thelik's eruption at the generals had made them all recoil, T'Pol having actually clutched her ears against the painful onslaught of sound. On the alien vessel Archer had grimaced then tried to help Hoshi, who had reflexively clutched the sides of her helmet and doubled over as the scream had torn into her hypersensitive ears and reverberated inside her helmet. Thelik had almost finished his tirade before her ears stopped ringing.
Once the soldier had finished bellowing at, scolding, then threatening his superiors and the generals had fled, the Enterprise bridge crew had exchanged stunned, silent looks that conveyed what they were all thinking: 'In two days, we're all gonna die.' Trip had finally broken the silence, though barely, by whispering to no one in particular, "That guy's no G'l Benai, he's a damned honey badger."
They watched as Thelik, still keyed up, frenetically paced around Koshneer's bridge, hissing and muttering to himself. Meanwhile Hoshi slipped behind the communications station and worked the controls until the Enterprise bridge came up on the G'l Benai viewscreen.
T'Pol rose from the captain's chair. "Captain...can you hear me? Are you alright?" She eyed the G'l Benai warily.
"Read you loud and clear," Archer replied quietly as he watched Thelik stalk around the bridge in search of some way to vent his anger. "We're okay. Just waiting for the generals to get back to us with their decision. Everything okay over there?"
"Fine, Captain. It merely seemed prudent to check your status." She shot another meaningful look at the agitated warrior. Archer nodded his approval and T'Pol sank back into the chair.
The scout pilot's lilting accent interrupted any further exchange. "So it is třue what I have heařd about your people, Deshkai'i."
Surprised, Thelik halted his pacing in front of Tactical Station. "Yes, it is true," he replied bitterly without looking up from the floor. "We are insane. Madmen. Maniacs. Some theorize that the cold climate of our province causes ice crystals in our brains." He tapped his index finger on the temple of his helmet as he finally looked at the viewscreen. Though her image was still absent, focusing on the upper corner of the screen helped him concentrate.
"That's not what I meant," she replied almost tenderly. "Although those aře things I have also heařd. The otheř thing that is said of youř people is that the Deshkai'i are the most feařless of us all. To speak to the Council in such fashion...took gřeat břaveřy."
"No...it took great carelessness and rage, not bravery," he countered as he resumed stalking around the room. "I should not have lost control like that. It was not my intention to speak of their actions, but for them to place the blame solely upon my captain, to question his abilities and insult him in such cowardly fashion...that could not go unchallenged!
"But to react as I did was foolhardy. I've doomed us all," he cast a brief, regret-filled glance at Archer and Sato. "And now all I want to do is break something but everything here," he snarled as he swept an arm around the bridge, "is already broken! The only thing that isn't is Communications and we just finished fixing that." By now he'd made his way back to Tactical and as he glared at the console it dawned on him why he'd been unable to restrain himself. "Kenjit...kenjit kenjit KENJIT!" He kicked the front of the console on the last curse, the metal crumpling like cardboard before the assault. "The stimulant—how could I have forgotten? Even after the drug is purged from one's system it takes time for the body's hormone levels to equalize," he explained.
"And kicking Tactical Station helped?" the pilot asked with gentle sarcasm.
"Meh...a little," he admitted with a shrug. "That station seemed to be the most broken anyhow, so what more damage could kicking it do?" He gingerly nudged the stove-in panels with his toe, canting his head as the abused metal clattered to the floor. "But that is going to come out of my pay," he observed casually.
"So," VekCha'a Pilot ventured with timid curiosity after a moment, "the geneřals...they did as you have said? For what řeason?"
The warrior resumed pacing the bridge, more calmly this time, as he answered. "The Civilian Council wanted to mount a scientific expedition—set up a scientific outpost offworld in order to study other planets, other ecosystems...whatever they could find to study. The Council of Generals felt it was a waste of resources that could be better spent on military pursuits, but they cannot override the Civilian Council. So they sought to undermine the endeavor. Instead of simply ordering one of the captains to take the mission they sought volunteers, making it known that such a mission held no promise of glory. There would be no stories told about it, no songs sung about the glorious science outpost. If there were no volunteers, they could simply tell the Civilian Council that there were no ships available to take their scientists to their destination." Stopping his meandering he smirked knowingly before continuing. "But the generals miscalculated...they forgot that one of the captains is married to a scientist. He knows the value of such things, that there is more to life than military knowledge. When he volunteered they tried to dissuade him, first by saying he would not need a full crew for the mission, then by saying that since it was a civilian endeavor the ship would be reclassified as a civilian vessel. When even that would not sway my captain, they told him that since his ship was now a civilian transport it had no need of its armaments. They left a few token weapons systems untouched so it could not be said we were being sent out unarmed...but it was insufficient."
"And when the Human aggřessors appřoached?"
Thelik shook his head with a scowl. "They had the proper transponder signal...they were authořized to be in our territory, and there were no initial signs of aggression from them. Who would imagine that a freighter would attack anyone? By the time we realized their intentions it was too late...we could not reinforce the shields in time to stave off damage. If we had had proper shielding, proper weaponry...we could have prevented it. We could have protected our passengers, our crewmates...our families." He cast his gaze to the lift shaft then the floor. There was a long silence.
"If the geneřals come foř you," the scout pilot said softly, then hesitated. "If they come foř you," she repeated firmly, her mind made up, "I will stand with you."
"Ahh...that is something far more admirable and valuable than Deshkai'i fearlessness...Naq'vai bravery. Any idiot can be fearless, but for one to push aside their fear and take action, that is worth far more than being fearless...it will be an honor to have you at my side in battle. We will die defending honorable people." He looked over at Archer. "I will fight for you as I would my own captain."
"At least if we die in battle they won't be able to execute us," the scout pilot joked. Before Thelik could return her laughter she gasped and grew serious. "They aře back."
The image on the viewscreen flickered and the Enterprise bridge was replaced by the Council chambers. The general who had abruptly adjourned the earlier conference stood alone in the room, scowling at the screen. "Koshneer Third Tactical," the maneless, slender-faced, battle-scarred old G'l Benai intoned solemnly, "step forward." Resigned to his fate Thelik wordlessly obeyed, standing at attention in front of the bridge. The furrows in the general's tawny brow deepened as he spoke. "You should know that you angered a great many in the Council. Never in any of our combined lifetimes and experiences have we witnessed such brazen insolence, let alone been the recipients of such impudent insults. 'Toothless old men?' 'Covey of mindless fools?' 'A burrow of mating tokesh?!'" His stern features softened as he smiled openly at the young officer. "In my experience such subtlety and restraint is unusual in the Deshkai'i. Still, I found your candor quite refreshing, if inordinately colorful." His smile faded. "And your anger is more than justified. Your assessment of us was correct, though not all of us agreed with the decisions made regarding your captain's mission. It shames me that I allowed myself to be convinced to go along with those decisions. I grieve with you, and mourn your loss. When the time comes for me to stand at the doors of the Great Hall, I shall beg your family and fallen comrades to forgive me for my part in this tragedy, though that forgiveness is not deserved." His head dropped mournfully.
"With respect, General, I have been told by a reliable and honorable person that to refuse a sincere apology is rude and uncivilized...despite my best efforts to teach her such things, my wife never learned to be rude or uncivilized. I am certain she would accept your apology."
"Thank you for offering hope to this mindless fool." Straightening to attention the general turned his eyes upon the Humans. "VekCha'a Pilot has told us that one of you is En-tier-přice Captain. Step forward." Archer moved to stand next to Thelik while trying to ignore the general's resemblance to a Siamese cat. Remembering the scout pilot's advice he said nothing, simply bowing to the general before coming to attention as Thelik had done. "Soo," the old man said, golden eyes glittering as he gave the goatee-like fur on his chin a few thoughtful strokes, "this is a Human. Hard to make out the details with that unusual armor, but I've seen a few pictures of your species. You yielded your ship to this gigantic madman?"
"Yes, sir. It seemed the best course of action at the time."
"A wise decision, and one you won't regret. What he said is true—Deshkai'i do not die alone. I had a battle sister who was Deshkai'i, so I have some small knowledge of how their minds work. She saved my life more than once, and died at Mohřdah Chesh. She spotted a band of two dozen Klingons slipping toward the lines one night and raised the alarm as she charged them...and she made certain that they were all either dead or dying before she fell. I almost felt pity for the fools—dangerous enough to anger a Deshkai'i, but to anger one of their women? Of course all women are dangerous when angered, but by the time she finished with them there wasn't even enough left of those fatherless heathens for the rest of us to sharpen our claws on. If this man has said he will protect you," he assured Archer as he pointed to Thelik, claws still sheathed, "that is what he will do, and Ancestors have mercy on any who try to harm you, for mercy will not come from him.
"As for you, Koshneer Third Tactical," he turned his attention back to Thelik, "I have taken responsibility for this venture. Your accepting of the yielding is deemed valid, and your request is approved. The Human vessel En-tier-přice is granted permission to remain in G'l Benai territory so they may render aid to those from Koshneer. VekCha'a, you will remain with these ships and continue monitoring the situation. I am transmitting an authorization code and my personal communications frequency—all future reports and transmissions from you, as well as Koshneer and En-tier-přice, will be made directly to me. En-tier-přice will remain in proximity to Koshneer during their time in our territory. Koshneer Third Tactical," he grinned slyly at Thelik as if sharing an inside joke with him, "do you comprehend?"
"Yes, General, I comprehend."
"Good. It is as you have said—Koshneer is under your care until your captain's return, as is En-tier-přice. Use your best judgment. I know your captain...most of my fellow generals only know of him. He is a good man. I wish you success and will eagerly await word of your progress...and success." The general's image vanished from the screen, replaced by Enterprise's bridge again.
After a long silence Archer spoke. "You knew," he said to Thelik. "That's why you wanted me to yield my ship—because you knew they wouldn't let us stay otherwise, that they'd destroy us."
Thelik shrugged and quirked an eyebrow. "I knew only that there was a possibility they would not listen. The yielding was the only thing I knew of that might ensure your safety. Accepting on behalf of my captain ensured that they could not order me to either disregard or rescind the yielding."
"You could have explained all of that to me, you know," the captain replied with a relieved chuckle.
"Yes...I could have. But then you would have been deprived of the opportunity to trust me," Thelik deadpanned, eyes twinkling.
Archer shook his head with an amused half-laugh, then heard Trip's voice over the comm whispering something—presumably to Malcolm. "Care to share with the rest of the class, Commander Tucker?" he asked good-naturedly as he turned toward the viewscreen.
"Umm...sorry, Capt'n." Trip tried to ignore the barely stifled, chuffing laughter coming from Thelik. 'Laugh it up, fuzzball...' "Didn't wanna interrupt you so I was sorta havin' a private consultation with yer First Tactical, here. I was tellin' him that it's gonna be damned hard to find these people if we gotta hold our position. That general said we hafta stay here with Koshneer."
Damn. He'd been so relieved at the G'l Benai generals' decision to not kill them that the order to stay put hadn't even registered. At a loss, he turned to their host. "Okay, Koshneer Third Tactical, what do we do now?" He was almost annoyed that the warrior didn't seem at all perturbed by this latest wrinkle.
Thelik down at him, a puzzled look on his face. "I do not perceive a problem, En-tier-přice Captain." After a couple seconds he realized the reason for their concern. "How is En-tier-přice currently being kept in proximity to Koshneer?"
"We call it a grappler," the captain explained. "Basically, we've used cables to tether the ships together."
The soldier nodded his approval. "Excellent...I am familiar with such systems. Archaic but effective. If it became necessary to move En-tier-přice would this grappler be able to pull Koshneer?"
"As long as we don't try any overly fancy maneuvers and don't try to go full speed, yes, it should work fine." Jon tilted his head, trying to figure out where Thelik was going with these questions.
Hoshi spoke up. "The general didn't say to hold position," she offered excitedly. "That's it, isn't it? We just have to keep the ships near each other."
"Exactly," Thelik beamed down at her. Apparently Human women were smarter than their male counterparts, too. He turned back to Archer. "When a vessel is granted permission to be in our territory a small transponder transmitting an authorization code is temporarily fastened to the hull of the vessel in question. There are no such devices on board Koshneer—"
"So Koshneer will be our transponder," Archer finished the sentence, much to Thelik's amused relief; teaching these people might not be entirely impossible after all.
"Yes. As your First Communication said, the order was not to hold this position but for your ship to remain with Koshneer. As long as the tethers remain intact and the code is being transmitted, the ships can go wherever needed and we will be in compliance with the general's order as it was given. The order may seem vague, but its phrasing allows me to interpret it more broadly if needed and allows him to deflect any criticism of my interpretation." He faced the screen again, aiming an amused look and slight nod at Trip. "Does this alleviate your concerns, Misss-tah T'khah?"
"Well...yeah...sure," the engineer replied, pleasantly surprised that the alien would ask his opinion even in jest and even more surprised at being called 'mister'. "As long as you're happy an' the generals are happy, that's all that matters."
Thelik returned the t'khah's smile then for the first time granted his full attention to the other people on the Human Control Deck. He marveled at the Humans sitting at their oddly-placed stations—how was it possible for them to get any work done lounging about like that? And by the Ancestors, what was the purpose of the stationless chair in the middle of the room? What task could the woman sitting there possibly tend to with no station before her? Perhaps she'd been placed there as public punishment for some infraction? That might also explain the difference in her clothing, since the rest of these Humans wore what were apparently their standard uniforms. This one, though...what was she wearing? That garment had to be a punishment of some sort. Letting his gaze wash slowly over her, his eyes finally got to her ears. After blinking several times in surprise, certain that his eyes were deceiving him, he took a step toward the viewscreen and his jaw dropped. "You are...she is..." he looked to his Human guests for help processing this unbelievable development. It leapt from his mouth far louder than he'd intended. "Vahl-khan? Vahl-khan?!"
Hiding his growing unease Archer stepped up alongside the warrior and gestured to his First Officer. "This is Subcommander T'Pol, my Science Officer and second-in-command. And yes, she's a Vulcan. Is that going to be a problem?"
The warrior continued staring unabashedly at T'Pol, struggling to find his voice. "No...nooo," he finally stammered. "I just...I did not expect..." Tearing his gaze from the screen he looked at the captain. "How did a Vahl-khan get on your ship?"
Jon opened his mouth, almost giving the first impulsive answer that popped into his head, then caught himself: telling Thelik she was dragged kicking and screaming onto Enterprise would likely be taken quite literally by the G'l Benai, and wouldn't go over too well with T'Pol, either. "That's...kind of a long story."
"A Denobulan...and a Vahl-khan," Thelik marveled, seemingly impressed. "How many other aliens serve you?"
"That's it," Jon assured him. "One Denobulan and one Vulcan. Everyone else is Human."
"Fascinating." Directing his attention back to the screen Thelik studied the subcommander again, still awestruck. "I look forward to meeting you," he purred admiringly before looking down at Archer again. "Magnificent creatures. They're poisonous, you know," he confided softly. "Don't ever bite into one."
"I'll...be sure to remember that," Jon assured him while somehow keeping a straight face. "Now, any chance we're done here? I still want to have Phlox check those lungs of yours, and we've got to begin repairs over here."
"Oh...yes...of course. Apologies," he offered, gathering his thoughts. "I just need to get the damage estimates." Returning to the Captain's Station he removed the first padd from its slot and handed it to Archer. "The list of damaged systems will not be comprehensive—some of the internal sensors are damaged as well—but it will give us enough information to get started." As he reached for the second padd an electronic chirrup from the computer drew his attention back to the monitors in front of him. His eyes snapped to the flashing message at the bottom of one of the small screens.
"No...noo," he whispered, horrified. He frantically flipped several switches, rechecking readings and silently praying to his Ancestors for the readings to change. The cold knot in his gut tightened as the readings remained unchanged.
Coming closer Archer looked at the display with growing unease. "What is it—what's wrong?"
"Hopefully an erroneous reading," Thelik replied unconvincingly, eyes still fixed on the monitor. "VekCha'a...I require confirmation. Scan Battledeck, Grey Section, Launch Tube Four. Transmit readings to Koshneer and En-tier-přice."
"En-tier-přice?" She asked, stunned. It was irregular enough to communicate with a non-G'l Benai vessel, but to share scans of their own ships?
"Yes!" Thelik snapped. "Comply!"
"Apologies," VekCha'a said contritely. "It just seems so odd, shařing infořmation with aliens."
"Agreed. Now get me those scans results." The ten to fifteen second wait seemed an eternity.
To her credit the scout pilot kept most of the nervousness out of her voice as she gave Thelik the news, her accent only thickening slightly as she spoke. "Přeliminařy scan of Battledeck, Gřey Section, Launch Tube Four, shows an ařmed, unlaunched tořpedo. It cuřřently seems to be midway thřough a řeset cycle." She paused a moment as the final scans finished. "Confiřmed. Tořpedo appeařs to have malfunctioned duřing launch—it only třaveled a little oveř its own length down the launch tube befoře abořting."
Thelik's head dropped to his chest as he heaved a long sigh. It took a few seconds for him to gather himself enough to look at the Human captain. "There were four torpedoes aimed at your vessel. I need to confirm which ones fired—which areas of your ship were hit by the other torpedoes?"
"The first one hit the starboard nacelle, second looked like it was headed for the Forward Armoury. We were able to take that one out before it hit us but the explosion was close enough to do damage. We didn't get a firm lock on the third one and it grazed the port nacelle support pylon." Archer's steely gaze burned into Thelik. "Where was this one supposed to go?"
Malcolm's soft voice answered before the warrior could reply. "The Bridge, sir. I saw four targeting markers on the display in their weapons room. Armoury, both nacelles, and the Bridge."
"It is standard targeting protocol," Thelik offered numbly. "Take out the enemy's propulsion, weapons, and command center." He turned back to the monitor as he tried to figure out his options, futilely working the controls on the off chance he'd missed something. "Fortunately, this torpedo malfunctioned. Unfortunately, it is designed to reset in the event of a malfunction. It will keep attempting to do so until it succeeds, at which time it will launch. If the original targeting programming has been wiped during reset, it will switch to default targeting and will seek out the center mass of the nearest non-G'l Benai vessel. If the targeting programming is intact, the torpedo will home in on your Command Deck."
"Can you stop it?" Archer asked as Thelik flipped one last switch.
With a scowl at the console he snorted in disgust. "Under normal circumstances I would be able to access the weapons system either from Tactical or Captain's Station. Tactical is too badly damaged, and Captain's Station...there was damage to the circuits that allow this station to control other systems on the ship. When I saw your boarding party I was concerned that they might gain access, so I attempted to sever the remaining connections. Apparently I was quite thorough. I can receive information but cannot send commands. I can do nothing from here." He faced first the Human woman then her captain. "I will have to return to the battledeck in order to stop it." Turning back to the console he pulled up a schematic of the ship on another monitor, surveying the damaged areas of the vessel. "With the torpedo that far into the launch tube, disarming it is not an option," he stated softly. "But there is only minor hull damage in that section. If I redeploy the primary blast doors, redirect emergency power to what shielding is still functional, and close the external launch port, I believe the torpedo can be detonated in place, causing minimal damage to the hull. Leaving the inner launch port open will redirect the blast inward, decreasing the likelihood of compromising hull integrity." He nodded slowly, satisfied with his calculations.
Trip's voice came across the comm. "You gonna have time to get those doors sealed before you get outta there?"
The soldier slowly turned to face the screen, momentarily confounded both by the question and the concerned expression on the engineer's face. A small, sorrowful smile crept across his lips. He was beginning to believe that this t'khah might be a good man after all. "The explosion will be almost instantaneous, so attempting to get out will not be an option."
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"No. Absolutely not. I won't let you do it." Archer had moved to block the turbolift shaft the instant Thelik had taken a step toward it. "There's gotta be another way to deal with it."
Thelik almost smiled down at the Human. The man's concern and determination would be heartwarming if not for the fact that they were wasting time—time that they might or might not have to squander. "There are probably several other ways to 'deal with it', but all but one of those would take more time than we likely have."
"All but one? Alright, what's that one way?" Archer insisted.
"We let it launch," The G'l Benai stated flatly. Allowing one second for that option to sink in he then turned and took a few steps toward the viewscreen. "En-tier-přice First Tactical, I would ask a question."
"Go ahead," Malcolm insisted tensely as he took a step forward.
"What is the current weapon status of your captain's ship?"
"Still offline...it will take a couple hours to get them functional." 'Because you didn't want us to activate weapons, you great furry whatsits...'
"And shielding? What is the status of that?"
Malcolm all but vaulted to his station to check readings, though he already knew the answer just from the look on Zabel's face as the crewman slid out of his way. "Hull plating still unavailable for at least another hour," he confirmed without looking up. Another electronic chirrup from the alien ship snapped his attention back to the viewscreen. "What was that?"
"That sound indicates the torpedo has completed its reset cycle unsuccessfully, and another reset cycle has begun. Another question for you, First Tactical: Given the known yield of one of these torpedoes and En-tier-přice's current lack of shielding, what are your damage estimates for a direct hit to your captain's Control Deck? Explain to your captain what will happen if this torpedo launches and finds its mark."
With random expletives dancing through his head Reed punched in the information, ignoring the discomfort in his right hand as he typed. What stared back at him from his own console turned his blood to ice. He straightened and looked up slowly, stunned eyes meeting those of his captain. "Without hull plating...the bridge will be vaporized, sir...along with at least two decks below that. Probably more. We'd be crippled beyond hope." He sent a desperate glance to Trip. The engineer bustled to his own station to contact his staff as well as the Armoury staff, ordering all available hands to help get the hull plating online posthaste.
The warrior gave a short, satisfied nod. "So, we agree that allowing it to launch is not an acceptable option." He faced Archer again. "Other options are impractical due to time constraints. The only viable option is to detonate the torpedo in place...which cannot be done from here. Further debate about the subject only wastes time. I have to go." He strode toward the lift shaft and the still-immobile Human.
"I'll come with you...maybe together we can figure out a way t—"
"No. Your ship needs you. My captain needs you. I go alone." Canting his head he marveled at the man. "I have said that I would defend your ship from any attackers...do you truly think I would not protect it from my own actions? I have done this...I must attempt to undo it."
"I can't just let you go off to die!"
Without warning Thelik's hands flashed out and grabbed Archer by the upper arms, just like he'd grabbed Trip in Sickbay. Slowly and gently he lifted the man until they were eye-to-eye. "You. Cannot. Prevent it. Not without endangering your own ship and crew. And without your ship and crew, my captain and those with him will perish." He pivoted in place and strode to the Captain's Station, setting the man down. "There is more information about us there," he offered, pointing to the padd still protruding from the console. "Take it. While she was helping me, your First Communication told me of your mission to seek knowledge about other peoples. Add that information to your knowledge."
As Thelik reached the door of the lift shaft and reached for the ropes left by the Humans, the scout pilot's excited voice filled his ears. "Wait...waaait!" she insisted frantically. "I can řaid the buřřow!"
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There was no way it would work. It couldn't possibly work. The torpedo was an older model, unstable, malfunctioning...and armed. And the tow beam was powerful, powerful enough to detonate such a temperamental torpedo. Kenjit, the maneuver she proposed was risky enough under the best conditions.
And yet...it might work. It had worked in the past, in the midst of battle. Had worked so well, in fact, that the maneuver was required learning for scout pilots in case their help was needed during ship-to-ship battles, or in the unlikely event that they needed to defend themselves from an aggressor. There had even been a few times when larger ships—Koshneer had been one of them—had used the maneuver against their opponents, but scout vessels were preferable.
He probably should have explained the maneuver to the Humans as soon as it had been suggested. But time was a precious commodity so instead he'd immediately returned to the captain's console and begun working excitedly on the computations, studiously ignoring the concerned stares of his guests and muttering calculations under his breath.
Unaccustomed to being left out of the loop Captain Archer watched wordlessly, growing more annoyed with each passing second. Finally he'd had enough. "Are you planning to tell me what the hell's going on? What does 'raid the burrow' mean?"
Thelik answered without looking up. "Scout vessels are extremely agile." Was that the correct word? Probably best to clarify. "They are small but powerful for their size, able to maneuver more precisely than larger ships. And they have...tow beams." He tore his attention from the console and locked on Archer's eyes. "Like your grappler, only an energy beam instead of cables. It might be possible for VekCha'a to pull the torpedo from the tube and take it a safe distance away before destroying it. If we get all the settings and power levels right. Which, unfortunately, is looking doubtful."
He turned back to the console and reentered the figures, then frowned as the same unsatisfactory answer came up. "It won't work," he told the pilot, shaking his head. "You won't have sufficient power for the tow beam, engines, and shielding, even if you transfer all power from life support." Tilting his head as he reread the information in front of him, he pursed his lips. Or maybe it could work. "VekCha'a, have you assumed position at Launch Tube Three?"
"Yes. I can do this," she insisted, obviously peeved. She'd begun her own calculations while the Human First Tactical had begun giving shield status and damage estimates. Though without rank or title she hardly deemed herself incompetent.
"I do not doubt your abilities...it is your vessel's abilities that concern me. It is powerful, but if things go badly it will not endure a torpedo explosion at such close range without maximum shielding. Plus, you are not snatching a torpedo as it is launching but dragging it from a complete standstill. That will take more power than you presently have. But I know where we can get more power." He straightened to his full height and faced the viewscreen. "I would look upon you before we continue." There was only an instant's hesitation before the image on the screen split, one half showing the Enterprise bridge, the other the helmeted pilot, her faceplate darkened. In another second the faceplate cleared, showing the dark-furred face of the young woman. "Much better," Thelik stated. "Now, the only way this will work is to transfer all available power to the shields and tow beam. All available power. I therefore order you to disengage camouflage and transfer that power to the necessary systems."
She started to object but stopped as she realized what he was doing. If she shut down her camouflage on her own—especially in full view of an alien ship—she'd almost surely face severe punishment regardless of why she'd done it. But being ordered to do so took any blame from her. He was protecting her, and not only from a possible explosion; any punishment for shutting off her camouflage would now fall upon him. How could she in good conscience fail him? Jaw set in determination she complied. She would not fail.
On board Enterprise Malcolm, having relinquished the Tactical station, watched over Zabel's shoulder as one of the station's screens revealed the scout ship. He gave a low appreciative whistle despite himself, prompting T'Pol to order the image transferred to the main viewscreen.
It was much smaller than any of them had anticipated; half again the length of a shuttlepod, but with none of the boxiness of those craft. Obviously built for speed and maneuverability, it was almost the shape of a plump four-sided hunter's arrowhead save for the blunted nose. And given some of the sensor readings coming in Thelik hadn't exaggerated about its abilities—if their readings were anywhere near accurate not only could the sleek little ship run rings around a 'pod, but could likely outmaneuver and outrun Enterprise, even with Travis at the helm of the larger vessel.
"Send me your calculations, VekCha'a," Thelik commanded. There was a moment's silence while the warrior reviewed the information. "Nai, nai, nai...your tow beam estimates are off. If you apply that much force the torpedo will detonate instantly."
"I can do this," the pilot insisted again. "I know my ship and my skills."
"And I know these torpedoes," he countered patiently as he reworked her numbers. "They don't often malfunction like this but when they do, they do so...spectacularly. You'll need to reduce output to minimum, narrowest beam, and gradually increase it. You cannot approach this task with the gleeful passion of seizing and slaying an opponent...it must be more like," he paused as he thought of a viable comparison. "Like holding the hand of a revered, dying elder. You must be gentle. Patient. Because this metallic 'dying elder' will blow you into so much space dust if you hold it too tightly or treat it too roughly." Without awaiting a response he transmitted the altered calculations. "Try it this way."
Reading through the transmission she nervously nodded her gratitude. She hadn't even considered the possibility of the tow beam accidentally triggering an explosion. "Confiřmed. Alteřing settings now, and awaiting ořdeřs." 'I can do this...I can do this.'
"Hold position at Launch Port Three while I go to the Weapons Room. If the weapon successfully resets before we're ready you do not want to be directly in front of Port Four. I still need to deploy the blast doors and open the internal launch port in case we have to abandon your burrow raid or if the torpedo detonates prematurely. And keep scanning the torpedo—if it resets before I get down there you will have to begin without me." Not waiting for a reply he turned to the lift shaft to find the Human captain again blocking his way.
Archer fixed a concerned stare on him before speaking. "What can I do to help?"
The G'l Benai thought a moment. "Your grappler. It can be redeployed after being disengaged?"
"Yes...why?"
"Have your ship disengage the grappler and move off a reasonable distance. That will give VekCha'a more room to maneuver as well as allow a greater margin of safety for your ship. After VekCha'a finishes, your ship can resume its previous position and redeploy the grappler."
Jon nodded his agreement and turned to the viewscreen. "You heard the man, Travis. Disengage the grappler and get ready to move—but try to stay within transporter range in case we need to leave in a hurry. VekCha'a," he said as he shifted his attention to the scout pilot's image, "tell my helmsman where you want him to go so my ship won't be in your way."
She nodded, a faint scowl furrowing her brow. 'Taking orders from a Human...what next?' Then again, it did make sense to have the alien ship move, so she forced herself to think of it as an urgent request rather than an order. Besides, she got to tell the helmsman where to go. In her mind that balanced things nicely even if she couldn't tell him where she'd really like them all to go. "Transmitting coordinates now."
"I'm looking forward to learning more about your people, and you." Jon told Thelik. "Be careful down there," he urged before stepping aside. "We'll be waiting for you."
Thelik regarded him a few seconds before giving a slow, respectful nod. "I will be as careful as the torpedo will allow, sir. " Seizing the ropes still hanging in the shaft he quickly vanished down into the darkness.
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"Chaychay na'ahz k'tořh. Chaychay na'ahz k'tořh." The whispered, intermittent chant from the scout pilot was the only thing that broke the tense silence as they all waited to hear from Thelik. When the captain had given Hoshi a questioning look she'd only been able to shrug her puzzlement. Her only theory, left unspoken so far, was that the G'l Benai woman was speaking a dialect that the Universal Translator hadn't had a chance to decipher. Given her accent—sounding to Human ears like a melodic mix of predominantly East Indian with a pinch of Russian inflection—that seemed the safest assumption. "Chaychay na'ahz k'tořh." Hoshi fought the urge to ask the woman what she was saying. It felt somehow rude to do so, since from the expression on the pilot's face and the tone of her faint voice she was praying. "Chaychay na'ahz k'tořh. Chaychay na'ahz k'tořh."
"Chaychay," Thelik's voice commented, startling them all. "Aren't those your adorable little Naq'vai forest spirits?"
The pilot blinked, pained indignation in her eyes. Perhaps by now she should be accustomed to ridicule—hers was one of the few provinces where the Ancestors were not the only ones worshiped, and during training she'd been taunted about it more than once. Having this man make sport of her somehow burned more than usual. "Yes. Don't mock them...oř me. They aře not...adořable." If he'd ever incurred their wrath he'd know how unadorable they could truly be.
"I would never mock either," Thelik earnestly insisted. "My battle brother showed me images of what your chaychay are thought to look like, and I think they are adorable. My opinion about their physical appearance does not diminish their reputed power or abilities. I appreciate you asking their assistance."
"You...believe?"
"My battle brother believed, and I respected his beliefs. He in turn respected my beliefs, whether he shared them or not. I like the idea of little forest spirits scampering around the treetops, lending aid from time to time. If there were trees in Deshk, who's to say we, too, would not have chaychay of our own...though I hope ours would wear warmer clothes than yours do." Both chuckled lightly. "Perhaps Deshk has them now and we just don't realize it. Or perhaps we had them once but they wearied of the ice and left for warmer climates. Who am I to claim they do not exist?" He paused before asking, "You have your exit route plotted?"
"Of couřse. You'ře not going to stařt doubting me now, aře you?" the pilot asked, put at ease enough to allow amusement to creep into her voice.
"No. I'm just...nervous. Under normal circumstances you'd be snatching a launching torpedo from an enemy ship and redirecting it into them, not dragging a stationary one from the launch tube and disposing of it. Doing it this way makes me very uneasy...so tell those chaychay of yours to stay close. We may still have need of their assistance."
As if agreeing with him the computer signaled the end of another failed reset cycle. A few seconds later the viewscreens on both bridges flickered before the image changed to Thelik dashing into the weapons room; almost immediately after he disappeared through the doorway the klaxon and automated warning began sounding again. "Deploying blast doors. Battledeck. Grey Section. Deploying blast doors. Ba—"
On Enterprise Malcolm gave an involuntary shudder as he heard the doors' locking mechanisms activating. Grateful that no one seemed to have noticed he mentally steadied himself and stared unblinking at the viewscreen, unsure what to expect. Another second passed before the image shifted again to show the interior of the weapons room. Thelik was working the controls on a wall panel near the door; after punching in a few commands the warrior moved swiftly to the launch tube and opened the inner port. Looking in, the G'l Benai shook his head, sighed, and resealed the port.
"I have visual confirmation, VekCha'a—torpedo inaccessible from here." He strode to another control panel as he continued. "Primary blast doors currently deployed. Emergency power redirected to shielding. Deploying secondary blast doors." He looked up at the camera in the ceiling, ignoring the sound of the extra blast doors closing and the door to the Weapons Room opening. "VekCha'a, assume position at Launch Tube Four. When you are in position I will open the external launch port."
"Acknowledged. I am in position. Don't open the pořt yet—I need to confiřm calibřation of the tow beam, and I think we can agřee that I don't want to calibřate it on the tořpedo itself."
Thelik stifled a chuckle. No, they definitely did not want to adjust the beam's output on the temperamental weapon. "Proceed, and notify me when you're ready." He moved to the console where he'd forced Malcolm to fire the torpedoes, all his attention on one of the monitors there. It showed him VekCha'a's position relative to Koshneer as well as shield status of both ships and the pencil-thin tow beam now focused on the external port of Launch Tube Four. The beam was gone less than ten seconds later.
"Calibřation complete. Shields at maximum. All systems přimed."
Taking a deep breath Thelik reached for the controls. VekCha'a's course of action had required amendments to his original plan: opening the inner port was not feasible with the outer port open and the scout ship directly in front of it. Doing so would either send the torpedo rocketing out the tube and slam it into the scout ship, or the abrupt pressure change would detonate it either on its way out or right where it was. With the inner port closed, if (Ancestors forbid) the torpedo should explode before VekCha'a could get it clear of the tube, the shields would do little or nothing to protect the ship; about all the shields would do was (hopefully) prevent most of the flying debris from damaging the other two ships. For that matter, the blast doors would likely prove useless, too. Koshneer simply would not endure such an explosion. Hoping that the Ancestors (and VekCha'a's adorable but potent chaychay) were standing ready to help them, he stabbed at the control. "External port opened. Commence when ready. And if you haven't done it already discontinue visual contact—I want your eyes on that torpedo, not us."
"Engaging tow beam. Nařrowest beam, minimum output."
"Excellent. Remember, you must allow time for the torpedo to acclimate to the beam. Wait a few moments before beginning to increase beam width and intensity as well as waiting between adjustments."
"Acknowledged...and yes, I řemembeř. The calculations you sent weře most detailed. Allowing minimum of eight seconds between adjustments to beam settings."
Nodding his approval Thelik kept his attention on the readings in front of him. The torpedo wouldn't move right away—it would probably take at least a dozen increases in beam settings before it showed any signs of movement. Which was fine with him, provided the reset cycle wasn't successful in the meantime. With stoic patience he silently stared at the readouts, watching the tow beam slowly expand.
"How's it going down there?" Archer's concerned voice broke the silence after almost a minute.
The startled alien's head snapped up; he'd all but forgotten about his guests. Allowing a brief glance at the security camera in the ceiling, Thelik shook his head. "The torpedo is not going anywhere yet."
Jon exchanged an amused look with Hoshi. "Has there been any progress yet?"
"It will likely take several minutes before the torpedo begins to move. But it didn't detonate when the beam was activated, so that is progress of a sort."
"Several minutes?" Jon repeated, stunned that it would take that long. He almost flinched at the cross look Thelik shot at the camera but relaxed as the G'l Benai's features softened.
"Your people are not hunters, are they, En-tier-přice Captain?" Thelik asked with an amused smirk as he returned his attention to the readings on the monitor.
"Some are, some aren't. We...don't really need to hunt any more. Why do you ask?"
"Impatient hunters often go hungry," he observed without looking up. "I am also eager to get this situation resolved, but as I said, it will probably take several minutes before the tow beam can safely exert enough power to pull the torpedo from its hiding place. Until then, all we can do is wait patiently for this hunt to end successfully. You should be able to monitor VekCha'a's progress from the console there." Studying the readouts Thelik wrinkled his nose thoughtfully. "VekCha'a, maintain current beam settings."
"Acknowledged. Is theře a přoblem?"
"No. I want to recheck these readings before we proceed." Once he'd gone over the readings and calculations to his satisfaction he glanced at the launch tube. "VekCha'a, resume beam adjustments. Allow two more increases to beam width then hold that setting while continuing intensity increases. Confirm."
"Confiřming—cease beam width incřeases afteř two moře adjustments while continuing intensity incřeases."
"Confirmed. If needed you can resume width increases once the torpedo is closer to the outer port." He silently watched the readings for the faintest hint of progress. Just under two minutes later he heard the first indication that his patience was being rewarded; his breath caught as the tiny, melodic sound of metal briefly scraping against metal reached his ears. The monitor before him confirmed it; it had only moved about the length of his thumb, but the torpedo had indeed moved.
"It's coming," the scout pilot whispered excitedly.
"I see it. Continue as planned." With each minuscule increase in beam strength the torpedo resisted less and nudged a little further down the tube. When it had moved almost its own length VekCha'a began cautiously maneuvering backward, using the tandem power of the beam and the ship's movement to urge the torpedo forward. Thelik smiled approvingly as he watched the scout ship's careful dance away from Koshneer, the torpedo slowly but obediently following. She was very good. "Excellent," he whispered encouragingly. Just as the nose o the projectile reached the end of the tube the computer again chirped; unlike the previous chirps of failure, this was a series of beeps in rapid succession. 'Kenjit!' "VekCha'a—the torpedo has successfully reset! It's trying to launch!"
"Oh, you noticed?" she shot back tensely. "I saw the řeadings change—compensating." Expertly navigating away from the larger ship and increasing the beam width and output she quickly cleared the ordinance from the launch tube and enveloped it in the tow beam. Still, she could feel the pull on her ship as the errant weapon sought freedom. Dragging the unwilling payload away from both large ships she accelerated toward the target area she'd already chosen and went far past it. She'd wanted to put a good bit of distance between herself and the other ships before loosing the torpedo to minimize potential damage to any of their vessels. With the torpedo now fighting back she'd have to amend her plans slightly; go further out, let the beam play out a bit, then try to detonate it the instant she cut the tow beam so it wouldn't have a chance to get too close to the Human ship. Letting the beam lengthen would give her a slight buffer zone and buy her a few nanoseconds—she hoped. "Chaychay na'ahz k'tořh," she whispered as she cut her engines, boosted shields, then simultaneously cut the beam, hit the auxilliary reverse thrusters, and fired.
In the weapons room Thelik gasped, watching helplessly as the explosion momentarily obscured VekCha'a from his sight. Before the light from the detonation had fully faded he called out desperately. "VekCha'a, can you hear me? Report. Are you there? Can you hear me?" He could see the scout vessel now, drifting aimlessly in space. "VekCha'a! Can. You. Hear. Me?"
The deafening silence filled his ears and pierced his heart.
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GLOSSARY
Honey Badger: A primarily carnivorous Earth mammal native to Africa and southwest Asia; famed for its ability, willingness, and apparent gleeful eagerness to attack virtually any attackers. Have been known to repel attacks by hyenas and lions and have a resistance to snake and scorpion venoms. Listed in Guinness Book of World Records as "The World's Most Fearless Creature". Due to a viral video on YouTube displaying their willingness to take on any and all comers (plus the mind-blowing ability to "sleep off" the venom of a cobra) they gained the unofficial slogan "Honey Badger Don't Care", hence Commander Tucker's comment following Thelik's rant (and threats) against the generals. (Source for most info: Wikipedia, YouTube, and Today I Found Out websites.)
T'khah (t-KAH): Can't tell you without spoiling the surprise. (Ain't I a little stinker?)
Tokesh (TOE-kesh): An omnivorous mammal common to many provinces of the G'l Benai homeworld. Best Earth equivalent in size, appearance, and temperament would be a cross between a Tasmanian devil and a honey badger. Not only hunts but also eats carrion. Most live in underground burrows; they make an inordinate amount of noise during mating season while intimidating or battling rivals and even more while copulating. Tastes like chicken.
Ghallas: A long-eared, meek, burrowing mammal vaguely similar to Earth rabbits. Depending on what part of the planet they dwell, some ghallas are only a little larger than 'standard' Earth rabbits but most are slightly larger than Flemish rabbits. Herbivores. Tastes like chicken.
Ushpah (OOSH-pah): A marine mammal native to the arctic waters of the province of Deshk. While not entirely dissimilar to an Earth walrus (but far larger than one), the adult ushpah has a large, dense horn which it uses to break air holes in the ice. It is the primary food source for residents of the province. Tastes like ushpah.
Kenjit (KEN-jit): Exactly what you think it is. Does not taste like chicken. Or ushpah.
Nausicans: A space faring alien race deemed by the G'l Benai to be dishonorable because of their willingness to attack civilians. Tastes like chicken.
Klingons: A space faring alien race deemed by the G'l Benai to be supremely and irredeemably dishonorable because of their attempt to subjugate the G'l Benai people. Tastes like chicken.
Mohřdah Chesh (MORE-dah CHESH): A small planet within G'l Benai territory, previously uninhabited, where Klingons established a large settlement and a fortified military base.
After countless minor skirmishes with the intruders throughout their territory the G'l Benai staged a full-on assault on Mohřdah Chesh to rout the Klingons. (In terms of endurance and bloodiness of the campaign, think Battle of The Bulge meets Battle of Stalingrad—with the Klingons winding up like Germany.) Final casualty estimates of the battle vary, but most have the total death toll estimates at 300,000-500,000 G'l Benai and well over 800,000 Klingons—the entire population of the Mohřdah Chesh base/settlement as well as the reinforcements sent after the initial G'l Benai offensive began. Actual planetside Klingon counts are inexact, based on duty rosters and census records only, as neither recovery of nor tallying of the alien dead was allowed by the G'l Benai.
Following their defeat at Mohřdah Chesh, the Klingons withdrew from G'l Benai territory and consider the conflict with the felinoid species over. However, since their opponents never actually yielded, surrendered, or conceded defeat, the G'l Benai still consider themselves to be at war with the Klingon Empire; any Klingons that the G'l Benai encounter will be immediately set upon.