Clothes Make the Man

Tortok sat at his station on the bridge, examining the requisition list that he had made and comparing it to the supplies that were expected to come aboard.  Something he could have done in his lab.  He had spent much time there, picking up the pieces and focusing on work.  He was still recovering, as was much of the crew.   His wounds had healed thanks to the talents of the medical staff.  The emotional scars remained.

He was grateful for his Vulcan half.  If he had not had some of the specialized training from his mother, then he figured that he would have curled up in a ball in the science lab to be forgotten.  The emotions were still eating away at him, wearing down his armor.  As the docking procedure fully began he turned away from the screen and just watched the bridge.  He could have gone over the lists in his lab, but this was the real reason he was here.

The procedure was a marvel of logic, form, and maneuvering.  Every statement, every movement had a purpose.  It was as graceful as a ballet and as well timed as an old fashioned watch.  It was a spectacle to watch and it gave him piece every time.  After docking, liberty was granted. The order then came that all senior staff make were to convene on the station later, Tortok included himself in that number, he was the only science officer on board this ship.
When he cleared the bridge he made his way to his quarters.  He was off duty when he was on the bridge, but being the own science officer on a “heavy escort” ship meant he pretty much made his own schedule.

As he entered his quarters he noticed his bunk-mate was on duty, relieved a the solitude he made his way to the mirror.  What he saw he didn’t like.  He looked older, leaner.  The last two months had sharpened his edges.  His hair which he tried to control the best he did was starting to cause an emotional reaction in him.  He took out the trimmer and started to trim it into the standard Vulcan bowl cut.

He stared at it and what looked back wasn’t him, not anymore.  At that moment he wanted to experiment.  Being in constant control was wearing on him, and meditation wasn’t effective.  He felt he needed to let loose.  That is when he decided to shave his head, bald.  When he was done, he stared at his pointed ears, sticking out of his head and started to laugh.  A chuckle to himself at first, then building to an outburst a laughter, then dissolved into the giggles that hurt his diaphragm.

He felt good, better than he had in a long time.  If Vulcans admitted being embarrassed, he should have felt it, but he didn’t care.  He looked at his wardrobe, he had a view civilian clothes, all in Vulcan fashion, some were meditation robes.  None of it suited him.  Tortok walked over to the replicator.

“Computer, civilian attire.”

“Specify”

“Collard shirt, white, button down.  Silk vest, green, and blue denim pants.”

After a quick scan for his measurements the garments appeared neatly folded on the replicator pad.  He put them on, remembering old earth sayings about clothes and men, and walked back to the mirror.  He barely recognized himself.  His posture was different, more relaxed.  A smile crept onto his lips.

He left his quarters and made his way to the gang plank.  He wanted to hit the promenade, find a beverage to share at dinner, and re-introduce himself to his crew-mates.  The lessons of control that his mother taught him burned in the back of his mind.  But he needed to experiment.  He needed to find out about this side he had shut away for so long.

A Solution

The patrol had been long and uneventful so far.  They had flown a defensive pattern between the Washington and the Klingon task force.  Salkonna had been quiet, working on her assignment.  Flying in tight formation on autopilot while working the calculations with the Washington.  Ash hoped she would have something soon.

Just as the next turn back towards the Washington, Chief Sterling chimed in “Sir, we are getting a communication from the Washington, secure channel.  sounds like Ensign Celes.”

He shifted in his chair, and tussled his hair.  “Put her through chief.”

“Aye”

The image popped in the corner, Ash turned to face her.  “whats up Dianna?”

“We just got back from the Klingon ship, be careful out there okay?” She said, obviously scared.

Ash grinned and gave her a look. “Hey, its me!”

“That's why I’m scared Ash, its the Na’Kuhl involved this time.”

“The who?”

“The Na’Kuhl, they were involved in manipulating time...I don’t know much else yet.”

Ash was suddenly very concerned, “So what are you saying?

“I’m saying that every time they show up, trouble is to follow.”

“Alright, remeber, I have 5 other pilots that will watch my back, and I’ll watch mine.  We’ll all come home together alright?” Celes nodded. “So why is this the first time we’ve talked since we left the star base Dianna?”  He didn’t know why he asked the question, he just needed to know.

“Its complicated Ash.  I can’t talk now.  After this we’ll talk, okay?”

Ashram sighed, “Alright.”  Ashram sighed again, and stared at the blank monitor for a minute.  Salkonna popped on, startling him.  

“We’ve worked something out sir.  The simulations give us a success rate of 38% on neutralizing the weapon.”

“I hope thats the bad news Ensign.”

“The bad news sir, in half of the simulations we lose one or two fighters.

Ash bit his lip.  “Let me see it, and send the data to Commander Scantillla.”

The simulation appeared on the screen where Salkonna’s face was.  Three large ships. were shown.  The Washington and the Negh’var were the logical targets.  The third ship was the ship they faced earlier with the isokinetic weapon.  Directly opposite to the line of the two target ships were two groups of three fighters each.  Ash started the simulation.  Just before the enemy ship fired, both groups of fighters went to warp directly at the target ships.  When the ship fired toward one of the ship the fighter group would surround the shell and destroy it before it reached the target vessel.  After the destruction of the shell the three ships would perform a Yeager loop and reform on the opposite side again to intercept the next shell.


Ash checked the time indicator, each shot would take less than two seconds to complete.  “So there is no margin for error then,” he said to himself, not realizing his channel was open.

“Aye sir.” Salkonna answered.

Startled, he quickly composed himself “Lets practice this then, we need to get it right.”

“One more thing sir.”

There was always one more thing he thought, annoyed “Yes?”

“The way this works, as you saw, we have to commit before the shot is fired, and once we commit there is no way to disengage until we are almost on the target.”

“An extremely vulnerable place to be, I’m liking this plan less and less.”

“It’s the best we have sir.”

“Great.”  Ashram sighed, and watched the simulation again, this time at full speed. “Lets get started.”

Loss and Recovery

Tortok lay in sick bay when the word came down. Two months. It didn’t seem right, in a way it felt much longer, but when he thought about it two months did make some sense. He looked up at the display, he was stable and his vitals were looking normal. His back was still in pain, but he used his focus to keep it away.

The bandage was hard and soaked in his blood. He looked forward to some true medical care. He looked around the sickbay and saw the others, the ones that were in better condition than him, and the ones that died. He saw the Andorian that had fallen to his death early on. But his wounds didn’t look like a fall. He would see how he died once a nurse was able to tend to him.

One eventually did come, and he was sedated. When he woke up his bandage was laying on the table, his back was healed.

“Go ahead, stand up,” Said the voice behind him.


He took the first few wobbly steps, and then composed himself.

“Good, your cleared for light duty Lieutenant, come back in a day or so for a checkup.”

“Thank you doctor, about the Andorian, Tok. How did he die?”

“He took a bullet, saving the Admiral”

Tortok nodded adjusted his uniform, and headed to the exit. Before he left he turned “Thank you.”
She smiled and nodded, and headed toward the next patient. Tortok started walking to his lab. He didn’t want to be in his quarters. His emotions were starting to surface. If he headed toward his quarters he might have an outburst. He needed to immerse himself in his work.

When he opened the door he saw how much work he indeed had to do. He had just set up the lab to his liking, and here it was, completely destroyed. He sighed and started picking up the pieces.

The Hedge Knight

We marched most of the day, along the river road. We had been following the river for days now, each day stopping outside a town or village or settlement named after the river and some other defining feature. Based on the hills I would assume this town is Riverbluff or Riverhill. They all ran together now.

The Centurions had set us up outside of town near the river. The knights stayed in the village. The lords in stayed at the inn. They would begin the round up now. All boys and men between 16 and 30 were rounded up and conscripted. That’s what happened to me and all of my fellow footmen, all of us were from different parts of the land. We hadn’t chosen to join the war. But the idea of getting a hand or foot chopped off so that you couldn’t join the next army that rolled through was enough encouragement for us to join.

At least they promised us meals, and glory, and a night track of land after the war. Only problem was we had to be on the winning side. If we lost we might as well have died losing that war.

We set up camp. As usual I hung around the Step-son Company. It was a name 4 of us had given ourselves. Our fathers or mothers had found new mates. We were treated as harshly as new step children had been in the stories that our original mothers had told us at their breast. Darrin had already started the fire and was about to fall asleep. The man could sleep anywhere and anytime. I think I’ve caught him sleeping while marching. Vance was pulling out our rations of salt beef and what they told us was coffee. In truth it could have just been burnt corn as good as it tasted. With the water boiling and the “coffee”
I didn’t feel like spending my evening by a fire again. We had told the same stories over and over again. I already knew which women of the village Andrew wanted to get to know better. We had been marching for a good fifteen miles in the rusty mail they had given us, lugging my pike on my shoulder, helmet weighing down on my head, and the pack of supplies on my back. It was my turn yesterday. Vance was due tomorrow.

The Centurions told us to wear the mail and helmets as a show of force. To show the enemy that we were a strong force to be reckoned with. All we had shown was the trees and bushes and the fish in the river how strong we were as a unit. It had been extremely hot and had been a very long march. The only relief was the brief rain shower in the morning that hung as a blanket of humidity the rest of the day.

“I’m going to take a dip in the river, leave me some food this time Darrin.” I told the company as I left my helmet and mail hanging on the pike that I had pushed into the damp ground.

“Getting all fresh for the wenches? Too bad it’ll go to waste tomorrow.” Andrew grinned, poking the fire.

“If you bathed once in a while you'd be able to woo a wife” I turned and walked to the river, walking through the camp. I grinned as he threw a wool rag at me. Other solders had had the same idea as I did. When I reached the bank I stripped down and jumped in the freezing water. The rush was enough to make me feel completely different, It stripped the aches and pains away, washed away all the sweat and dirt. I allowed myself to be carried off downstream a bit near the edge, deep enough that I could completely submerge myself. I dunked my head under the water for a minute, allowing the water to clean me off completely.

I heard the arrow penetrate the surface of the water, and then a large splash as another man on the bank fell in the river. I stayed underneath, not sure what was happening, and not wanting to volunteer my head as another target. When my lungs started screaming for oxygen came up and only exposed my head enough. Darkness had come quicker than I had thought was natural. The sun had completely disappeared when it only should have been low on the horizon. Something wasn’t right.

I allowed myself to drift down the river some more. But I knew that I had to get out sooner or later. The enemy surely would have had people down river to catch the bodies that fell into the river and strip them of anything valuable. I climbed out of the river, naked as the day I was born. I had drifted less than a quarter mile from camp. I scrambled to a nearby grove of bushes and small tries to hide myself. The entire village was in flames. There was chaos as the footmen in the camp were scattered and disorganized. The centurions were calling conflicting orders to the men that they had left. It looks like most of the dead had come from the first rain of arrows. The rain continued toward the camp and the village, burning rain that would kill if the drops fell on you.
I decided to stay quiet, and not to join the fray. Things were lost. I would be marked as a deserter, but as things appeared there would be no body left to punish me for that. I moved from my hiding spot and started back towards the river. I saw a corpse not far from my grove. When I got closer I saw that it was one of the knights. I could smell the piss and the booze on his corpse. He was wearing his mail and had his sword and shield with him. I decided to strip him of everything as he wasn’t going to need it anymore. I ran to the river and washed out as much blood and shit as I could. I would reek until I could steal other clothes, but at least I wasn’t naked anymore. I grabbed his sword and shield. It was a sigil that I didn’t recognize, a green blob. I couldn’t see well in this light despite the fire.

I changed my mind and decided to head back down the road and north the bluff. I stayed along the brush and trees, careful not to make any noise and not to draw attention. When started moving up I could see the rows of archers across the river and the two large armies converging on the village. We had marched right into a trap. I reached the edge of the road and a clearing. When I heard footsteps I froze. There was a small company of troups in fresh plate armor, gleaming against the fire. A man that looked lordly perched on top of a horse and two women chanting.

Wind seemed to blow around the women, they were locked hand in hand, staring into the sky chanting a dark melody over and over again. I couldn’t understand the words. I heard the crack behind me and swong the sword at the figure. The sword was easly deflected out of my hand and another sword was quickly at my neck.

“Well look what we found here.” Said a voice, “A hedge knight!”

The sound of laughter of the two other men filled my ears. I was caught, and most likely dead.

A Crazy Idea

Before leaving the bridge Lieutenant Estelo shot a quick glance at the Ops station. He hadn’t really talked to Celes since the night in port. He was disturbed not seeing her at her station; he had no clue where she was. He entered the turbolift and headed back down to the flight deck. He ran his fingers through his hair, still damp from the sweat. He was tired, but he had to head back out there.
Ashram played out the last sortie in his mind, and the quick briefing with Commander Scintilla had given him something to think about. He needed to find away to negate the power of that cannon. He had one crazy idea, he just wanted to run it by Sakonna first, see if it was even possible. He steped onto the flight deck, three of the fighters had already headed out, his wing was waiting for him, all the fighters were prepped and ready for launch. Talas and Syldra were waiting for him.
“Let’s go, we need to meet up with Sakonna and the rest.”
“Aye sir” They both saw the tension; they knew that the situation was as serious as they thought.
The three fighters launched in formation and met up with the existing wing in a defensive posture near the Washington. “Estelo to Sakonna, I have a question for you”
“Sir” she said coldly
“Switch to single comm., I need to ask you something privately”
“Aye Sir, ready”
“Is there a way we detonate a round from a kinetic cannon?”
“….Sir?” If he didn’t know better, he heard a bit of hesitation in that response.
“I need to know if it is possible.”
“Yes, but..”
He cut her off, “Yeah It’ll be dangerous, I know, but if we can’t nullify that cannon, then I doubt that we or anyone else will survive another sortie.”
“Understood, I’ll need to get into contact with tactical on the Washington.’
“Let me know, I’ll need to contact these Klingons…introduce myself..”
“Aye sir” She
“Negh’Var tactical this is Lieutenant Estelo of the Washington; we’ve come to render support.”
After a few moments a gruff looking (aren’t they all?) Klingon appeared on the screen. “Your gall is impressive human, but what do we need with little gnats like you?”
“The more we bite, eventually we will sting, distracting your enemy…allowing you and your brothers more glory.” Ashram said with as much confidence as he could.
The Klingon laughed a good sign. “Perhaps it is a good day to die, we welcome you, but do not sting too hard, Klingons are known to exterminate pests.”
“Aye I’ve heard about the great victory against the tribbles, I hope songs will be sung about this battle one day…Qapla!”
“Qapla!”
The transmission closed, “Team, we need to set up in a defensive posture between us and the Klingon Fleet…Sakonna, let me know when you’ve worked out something.”

Tarlin: Judge of the One God

Beams of light pushed through the wood. Columns freckled the base of the Deerwood where Tarlin and his companion walked. He never took the road. Not for the fact that he wanted to avoid anyone else, but there was never any adventure on the road. There was no adventure, no excitement. His companion stopped, instinctively Tarlin crouched down and squatted ever time this happened. His dog always could tell when someone was nearby. He unclasped his scabbard and put his hand on the rough leather hilt.

The familiar grip melded to the palm of his hand perfectly, it became part of his hand. Tarlin searched the wood, for what caused his dog to pause. He heard them before they saw him. Three men ringing in mail like a thousand tiny bells, the hooves of their mounts thumping against the floor of forest. The dog found a spot and hid, Tarlin found a tree, and wrapped his cloak around him, doing the same. He was a rock, leaning against the tree.

The three men stopped in the clearing near where the rock leaned. He could hear them dismount, the sounds of a struggling girl, her mouth muffled.

“Er’es a good a place as any, common bitch, let’s see what ya have to offer” said a deep voice.

“Aye I carrie ‘er, I get the first go at it” said the next one

“No ya do, I get the first one…I’s the one whole stole her”

He could hear the girl whimpering and crying, He didn’t need to let this happen in his wood. He smirked at his father’s words. Well, I did ask for some adventure. He pulled out two light daggers, and held them in his right hand. He slowly stood up, he didn’t need to be too stealthy, as he knew the men had other things on their minds than to see who was hiding in the woods.

He whispered a quick prayer and let one dagger fly. It struck the neck of the Man who already had his britches down and was starting to climb over the girl. He fell down to his knees and sat there, and he died as he turned toward the throw. He let loose the next dagger as soon as the men turned. It struck the farthest man in the left eye, he fell like an upended bucket of water. The girl screamed as best she could, her eyes wide as the two men died. The last man turned but Dog was already on him. He had knocked the rapist down on his belly.

Before the man had a chance to get up Tarlin stood on his back, pinning him down. “Get off me!” the man protested. Tarlin unsheathed his bastard sword and pressed it into the man’s back.

“You are in no position to make demands rapist, what garrison are you from.” Tarlin asked.

“To the hells with you highwayman!”

“I’ve already been there,” He pressed the sword harder against the man’s back. The man screamed as the blade pierced the mail and the skin on the man’s back. “Tell me or this will be the tip of the pain”

“The Rose, Up at Deerton. We just were for a little fun, we didn’ know..”

Tarlin finished the blow, piercing the man’s heart. “May the God forgive me for my judgement” he whispered as he pulled the sword from the dead man. He turned to the girl. She was crying and full of fear. “Don’t be afraid, you are safe now.” He said to her as he pulled her up. He undid her gag and cut her ropes. The girl was barley fifteen years old, skinny, with large green eyes and long auburn hair. If it wasn’t for the cuts and bruises, she would have been strikingly beautiful. He gathered his knives from the bodies of the men, and searched their bodies for anything of value. He gathered a half dozen silvers and twenty coppers, and cut the sigils from the men’s chests. The men had told them the truth, he was of the Rose, and they were near Deerton. The three horses were tied to a tree. One had broken his neck from rearing from the blood, the other two seemed not to notice, or were so dulled from war that it didn’t matter.

“You will come with me.” Tarlin said. “I’ll give you to the sisters of Caperton, they will take care of you.”

“Who are you?” She asked, her voice was still shaking as much as she was.
“Tarlin Eddrus Stonecloak, Judge of the one God” He stated. He hated the title, but the maid had asked. “But you can call me Tarlin, no one we meet will need to know who I am. And who are you?”

Ashram:Eat Drink and Be Merry

The forward lounge was full of the sounds of laughter and conversation. The tone was quite different from hours before. It was the sound of the ship releasing the tension as it passed back into Federation space and towards the starbase. A party sat at one of the longer tables. At the head was newly minted Lieutenant Ashram Estelo, still wearing the dress uniform from the ceremony earlier. To his right was Ensign Celes. The two were holding hands under the table, giving each other quick squeezes and glances at each other throughout the celebration.

Ashram looked down the table and saw his flight team. They had performed excellent, finally getting a chance to showcase their skills. Ensign Salkonna sat at the foot of the table, back in her uniform grays. Chief Sterling was to her right. Both watched the rest of the team enjoy the dinner and drinks. Joran had already lifted many a toast to the team, to the Lieutenant, to Chief Sterling, to Salkonna. When he was about to lift another glass for a toast Talas grabbed his arm to sit him back down.

Syldra lead most of the conversation, as she usually did. Mostly with gossip of course. When the question of the Chief staying aboard. She seemed to avoid the question. Ashram hoped that she would stay. She offset Salkonna's coldness nicely, and if his new rank kept him away from the flight deck too often, then the chief would stay in her role of Executive Officer.

He didn't want to dwell too much on personnel moves tonight. Tonight was a celebration, tonight was about a job well done. Ashram thought back to the old saying, “Eat, drink, and be merry. For tomorrow we may die.” When the thought crossed him mind he felt the pressure on his hand from Celes' hand. They hadn't had a chance to talk about the kiss in the corridor, the bridge wasn't the best setting for that conversation.

The night wound down, as did the drinks. Joran had his fill and was starting to pass out. Salkonna and Talas carried him off to his bunk to have him sleep it off. Chief Sterling looked like she was about to fall asleep as well. Syldra continued going, Ashram had no idea where her energy came from. Ashram stood and stretched, the rest followed his lead. Ashram walked over to the Chief and shook her hand.

“Thank you,” said Ash
“For, sir?” she replied
“It's still Ash, for Keeping them together, doing what you did. I want you to stay with us, we could use you.”
The Chief nodded and smiled, and glanced at Celes behind him. “Have a good night sir, see you in the morning.”

Ash and Celes left the lounge and started walking. They were quiet, their hands intertwined as they walked down the corridor. They reached the turbolift and after the door closed, he couldn't wait anymore. He looked over to Celes, and she looked back. They kissed long and hard. When they stopped, they noticed the door was open, and they were on their deck. They had no clue how long they were there.

They composed themselves as best they could. They went to his quarters, and as soon as the door closed behind them they resumed the kiss from the turbolift. The two thew themselves into the passion and to the moment. There were no words, there were no need for words.

Tortok: Surfacing

There was a floating sensation. He could feel that his body was disconnected from his mind. Visions of people he knew, but couldn’t place were telling him something. Something he couldn’t understand. The visions swelled and he was on a planet, a planet of heat and rock and sand. He was a child with his mother. The visions swelled again and he was an older child, different from the others, a shock of blonde hair that he refused to manage. Again they swelled, he was on the bridge of a ship, at a science station. His memories were returning to him.

As the floating sensation was waning, a sharp pain crept in, filling his body with the sensation. A training and memories surged, his pain was there, just masked. More voices filled his ears, familiar voices. He fought the cloud in his mind that the painkillers were providing, to surface. He turned his head and opened his eyes and gazed upon Elton and Laria.

Tortok: Waves and Shoals

The pain was tremendous. The wound in his back was bleeding terribly; he could feel the life draining from him as he washed ashore. Tortok attempted to fight the darkness, but it swept over him before he had a chance.

When Tortok woke, he couldn’t move. The pain in his back still was coursing through his body. He tried to focus his mind, but the pain was too intense. He caught a glimpse of Walter walking back to him before he passed out of consciousness.

Dreams came this time. Dreams of the trials, of falling, of strange planets he had no memories of. His logical mind kicked in, he was being medicated. He focused his mind and tried to wake, the pain peeked through the curtain medication, but he controlled it. He opened his eyes, they had moved. Walter was still with him, and he had a crude bandage on him.

There were voices, familiar yet far away. The pain increased as the medication faded away, he struggled to keep his mind focused. He looked at Walter and spoke as loud as he could, which was barely a whisper. “Where are we?”

Tortok: Honor and Life

Tortok took the blade, and examined it curiously. The edge was serrated, curved. Any wound inflicted by the blade would cause severe damage internally. He looked down at the hunter, he was no more than a child. He could see the fear in his eyes. “Who are you? Why do you do this to us?”

“Do me the honor, and finish me.”

“Fascinating” Tortok said, tilting his head. “Is this part of your honor code? To live and die by the hunt?”

“Let me go!” Elton screamed.

“Why?” the Vulcan asked, “If you die, you do us no good. If you live, you are in no condition to hunt. I have your weapon.” He showed him the knife. “I have your weapon, I have your life, if I understand your code correctly.” He pulled the young hunter onto the ledge.

“Why? Please kill me; I have no honor, no reason to live.” Elton said, crying.
Tortok considered the hunter. “You can help us. Get us out of this. And tell me about out memories. Why they are being blocked.”

Elton looked at the emotionless stare of the Vulcan in front of him. “And why would I do this?”

“Who says you have a choice?” Tortok showed him the blade, “I have your life now, and I assume that your own people will kill you anyway for failing. Help us, get us out, find our friends in this cave. I feel we may be able to help you.”

Ashram: Lower Decks Revisited

On:

Bridge:
Ashram stood on the bridge, some of the pressure was off. Jacob and the Captain were back on board, tensions with the Romulans were at a point where he could keep an eye on things. The klaxons were off, but the red alert still was in effect.

Flight Deck:

Nicole Sterling was sitting watch on the flight deck. The bridge had called for the fighters to ready again, only to be cleared shortly after. The response time of the team was excellent, just as she expected, but the team however was starting to lose moral. They milled around their fighters making sure they were ready to go again. It was twice that they have been called to alert this mission without being unleashed. The old fable of the boy who cried wolf started to run in her head.

“If we weren’t in Romulan space I would call the Lieutenant to have us chase some asteroids or junk or something.” She said to the Bajoran on watch with her.

“Aye, I’m sick of being bottled up, I’m about to explode” replied Rez.

Nicole liked Joran. He reminded her of her deceased husband Oscar in a way, headstrong and direct. She was on watch when the scramble sounded and Joran was due on next. Not that it mattered at this point. With red alert still in effect, they were required to be at their duty stations. Eventually Syldra and Talas walked over to the duty station as Joran relived the chief of the duty watch.

If Nicole was going to stay at her post as required, she needed coffee. She walked over to the replicator and ordered her usual. “Coffee, double strong, double cream.” When the order arrived she tapped her access code on the panel. “Computer, any personal messages?”

“No messages at this time.” The cold computer voice responded.

She was disappointed, but really she didn’t expect any. This side of the Neutral Zone she doubted that any transmissions were coming in or off the ship. Still she missed hearing from her daughters. She thought about them as she took a sip of her coffee. When she walked back to the duty station, she could hear Syldra do what she does best, talk.

“....and the Captain is dead, and the Klingon ship that...” She stopped when she saw the Cheif walk by. Nicole grinned at the young Bolian girl.

“Don’t stop on my account.” Chief Sterling said.

Talas piped in, “There is no way the Captain is dead, Andorians are stronger than that.”
“Either way with the Lieutenant in command, who knows what is going to happen.” Joren added.

Cheif Sterling snapped her head to Joran. “What? Ash is in command?”

Joran looked down at the panel again. “That's what it says here. He just made a log entry, looks like a prisoner transfer of some sort.”

“That makes sense then,” Syldra said. “I hear that the Romulans captured Ambassador Spock, and we are here to rescue him. I wondered why we were here. Why else would we be on Romulus.”

The three other pilots rolled their eyes at the Bolian. Nicole wasn’t sure where Syldra got her information, or if she just made it up herself and spread it as gossip. The news that Ash was in command shook the Chief. She liked Ashram as an officer just fine, she did think he was brash and quick to decision though. That and like all 20 year olds he know, thought with other parts of his anatomy than he really should.

“We are getting fresh orders Chief.” Joran piped up over the chatter between Syldra and whomever would listen. “Looks like we are to ready two fighters, just in case.”

“Talas, get ready, Syldra, stay with Joran until you get new orders. Lets get moving.” Chief and Talas moved to their ships. Syldra and Joran stayed behind and got the deck ready. Nicole pushed all her doubt out of her mind, duty was calling.

BRIDGE:

“Flight deck reports ready sir.” An officer called out.

“K’boom is in position and standing by” Ensign Celes said, turning to Ashram. Her eyes were full of the tension of the moment. Ash could tell she was looking to him for support.

Ashram took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Prepare for transport...drop shields”

Tortok: A Quick Break

Tortok left the attacker behind, the way he reacted he was sure the blade was poisoned, if he wasn’t dead, then he would be soon. He needed to get to the mountains. Walter was on his shoulder, breathing slowly, his body still extremely hot. He had given him his share of water to try to cool him, but the hot sun had heated the skins to a point that it really would not matter at this point. His only goals were shelter, water, and to get out of the heat.

As the sun started to rise, he lay Walter on the ground. The Vulcan needed to rest. He looked back and did not see the attacker. As he took a bit of the hot water he saw Walter stir.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“You didn’t leave me?”

“No”

“Thanks”

Tortok looked behind them, wondering where the others were at this point. If they had the same constitution as Walter, then he doubted they had made it this far. “Can you walk?”

Walter tried to get up, but it was obvious he couldn’t. “Sorry.”

“Its fine, when we make it to the caves, we’ll find a place to hide so that we both can recover.”

“What about the hunters?”

“Every time they’ve come, they have announced their presence. Part of their code of honor, I gather.” Tortok doubted there was even a way out, and if he did escape, that they would let him or any else go if he made it. A few more minutes they bother were quiet, and then he stood. “Time to go.” He bent over and picked up Walter and continued towards the mountains.