Beta Ciel (Star Trek, Uhura/Chapel)
Title: Beta Ciel
Author: starberry_slash
Recipient: templemarker
Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)
Pairing: Uhura/Chapel
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~ 8,600
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to the respective owners, no copyright infringement intended.
Summary: On a small M-class planet in the farthest reaches of the Alpha quadrant, Nyota Uhura and Christine Chapel struggle to survive against a savage planet and a dangerous enemy.
Notes: Thanks to my RL beta reader and my recipient Templemarker, whose help was an invaluable jumping-off point for a ST newb like me. I hope everything is to your liking--enjoy!
In the pre-dawn morning, on a small M-class planet in the alpha quadrant, the sky a hue of blue tinged red and yellow at the edge. The small valley below the sand-colored mountains was cloaked in darkness, the oven-like heat that would engulf the area was absent for the time being. The small stream that ran through the heart of the valley once had the power to carve the ridge now occupied by two people. Christine Chapel would have started the Gamma shift on a day like today with a strong cup of replicated coffee and a snappy retort waiting for the Chief Medical Officer that reported next shift. This morning, Chapel stood calmly outside the emergency pup tent scanning the valley for any signs of movement, her long blonde hair whipping lightly in the cool wind. Lieutenant Uhura still remained inside of their one-person tent, asleep after volunteering for the first watch hours ago. Chapel wanted her partner to get as much rest as she could, but the sky was beginning to lighten and the heat of the day would be upon them soon. The braying of the strange half horse, half camel creatures sleeping beside their tent made Chapel jump with tension. She turned to see her awakened partner kneeling on the ground, petting the animals affectionately.
“Sleep well?”
“As well as could be expected, given the situation,” Uhura said, climbing to her feet and to join Chapel at her side. She raked a hand through her long dark locks to untangle them from hours of sleep.
“Good.”
“Were there any problems?”
A small smile crossed Chapel’s face. “Between the freezing cold and the sound of booming gun-fire to the east? I’d say I had a relatively stress-free night.”
“Do you know where we are?” Uhura asked upbeat, playfully ignoring Chapel’s complaint.
“No clue. But judging from the position of the Silvanus Occultus constellation in the lower half of the sky, I’d say we should head to the southwest to put some distance between us and those gun-crazy freaks.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
A steady silence fell between the two women as they packed up their makeshift campsite and prepared their rides. Uhura appointed herself the task of erasing their presence, ensuring that their captors could not gain the upper hand on their location. The camorses, a name Chapel gave the strange but useful beasts she and Uhura found as they fled from the encampment, stood by patiently, watching the cleaning process. They had rejected their unexpected masters until Uhura offered them remnants of the food that had been in their possession, and they stayed relatively loyal. When everything was packed, the pair navigated the clearing they chose as their base camp walking side by side. They followed a narrow path that was lined with bushes, hopeful that the direction would lead them out of the valley.
“Are you hungry?” Chapel asked, her voice muffled by her makeshift head-wrap. Both women had taken odd pieces of their unneeded clothing and tore them apart to wrap them around their heads as added protection. The climate of Beta Ciel was as harsh as any desert back on planet Earth as Chapel and Uhura suffered slightly from the effects of spending most of the previous day riding under a hot sun. Stomach rumbling, Chapel cleared her head of thoughts that reminded her of the breakfast she would have been enjoying in the mess hall. Reaching into the left hand bag on the camorse’s saddle, she grabbed a handful of rectangular-shaped food wrapped in metallic foil. “We have a couple of these E-bars left but-”
“I know,” Uhura interrupted. “We need to ration them out.”
“As well as feed these hungry mongrels,” Chapel emphasized, giving the reigns to her ride a slight tug.
"Any harm in splitting one right now? I’m starving.”
“Not that I can see,” Chapel cheered, keeping one of the bars in her hand while she put the rest back in her pocket. She held the bar out for Uhura to break it in half and the younger woman's hand brushed slightly against hers as she snapped an equal sized chunk of the bar from Chapel. Her touch sent shivers down Chapel's spine and Chapel pretended to study the pattern in her saddle to conceal the blush rising in her cheeks. Blushing, at her age, she should be ashamed of herself. Chapel was easily older than most of the Enterprise crew with McCoy and Scott being her closest companions, until the divorce from Roger threw her world for a loop. She thought he was happy and willing to wait for her to come home from her five year mission. But Chapel noticed how the conversations became few and far between and the rumors circling about her husband's ‘extra-curricular activities’ with his robotic work became too many to count. So she had found solace in an unexpected place, a friendship and an unlikely ally in a time when Chapel had to face through the worst months of her life. Coming back to the present Chapel was pleased to find herself again with the one person who had seen her at her lowest and still remained by her side. Smiling at her memories Chapel brought the other end of the bar back to her mouth, letting her teeth pull apart the wrapper. Free of wrapping, Chapel raised her piece in the air, giving a salute. “Here’s to Captain Kirk…”
“Who can never stay away from a challenge,” Uhura finished.
Chapel surmised the captain’s curiosity had led the crew into the mess that they were currently in as days earlier the crew of the Enterprise had received a distress signal from an unidentified planet which Commander Spock deemed it habitable for humanoid life forms. Captain Kirk called a meeting with his chief of staff after Uhura had decoded enough of the message to understand that a man, calling himself Aias, pleaded for Federation intervention in a medical crisis. The population of miners, in the only working compound on the planet, had come under attack of a mysterious disease that had stopped the production of their mining operation. Shouted debates and logical reasoning between Kirk, McCoy, and Spock had led to resolution that the crew, along with Chapel as an assistant to McCoy and Uhura as translator, would leave immediately if anything went awry. The captain wasted no time before beaming a crew of ten down to the planet, believing that lives were at stake and to wait around for more diagnostics would be time wasted. The crew were greeted in the endless desert with quiet ambassadors who whispered the name of their home, Beta Ciel, over the hot desert winds.
Away from the valley Chapel felt uncomfortable moving forward. The coolness of midnight was a distant memory as the heat of the desert enveloped Chapel and Uhura, prompting them to mount their camorses to keep them from sinking into the soft desert sand. In the open they were vulnerable as their Starfleet regulation uniforms made them an easy target in a neutral-colored landscape. As they rode through the endless seas of sand Chapel kept her mind alert and wary of any signs of movement in her peripheral. She glanced over to her silent partner, pleased to see that the woman had the same stiff posture and steady hands she employed. Chapel felt confident counting on Uhura if the situation got really serious, really fast, as Uhura's calm exterior made Chapel feel more at ease. As much as she could feel at ease as Chapel had spotted something small in front of her.
"Jackal, or something like it," Uhura called out to Chapel as the creature dashed across the desert. It was unusual to see any animals during the day in any desert terrain. Chapel remembered animals prefer to roam and hunt during the cooler mornings and evenings. "It's weird seeing it out now."
"Maybe it's hunting."
"Mmm, I don't think so."
"Well," Chapel said, pulling up on her reigns and halting her camorse. A large family of rabbits hopped out of a small sand-covered cave and over a sand dune despite the risk of the golden brown predator spotted earlier. "I think we should follow it. Might lead us to water."
"It might lead us to our death."
"What other choice do we have?" Chapel said, snapping the reigns and pushing her camorse onward. Birds with plain black and white markings zoomed over head and off to a westerly direction. Strange, Chapel thought. All the animals were headed in the direction they were going, none of them frightened by their presence to change their course. She wondered-- what was pushing them forward? "We're wanted back east and we still can't get in contact with Enterprise. I was thinkin' if we move east far enough--"
"That's right...We'd be out of range of their jammers. We could contact Sulu!"
"Before we get ahead of ourselves, I think there's something wrong."
"Wrong?" Uhura asked, her eyes tracking Beta Ciel's version of sand mice race up the dunes.
"Yes..." Chapel stopped, her eyes glued to the skies overhead. She had been searching for any sign of civilization by tracking which direction the large predator birds were going. When Chapel was a little girl in Texas, her brothers taught her to track red-tailed hawk movements through the forests near her home. The birds tended to congregate by large sources of food such as rivers or lakes. But the movement of these large alien birds would be deemed unusual to the untrained eye as they flew into each other's territory and cruised into stretches of sand that looked uninhabitable to the toughest of creatures. Something was not right. Chapel turned to the sky for answers, looking upward. The day had began as cloudless and hot as any in a desert but slowly, Chapel noticed, the skies from the east had darken considerably, as if the skies were threatening rain. Something was definitely not right. "What the hell is going on?"
Before Chapel could hear Uhura's response, there was the sound of firecrackers exploding overhead. Frantic, Chapel and Uhura swiveled their heads around to see where the noise had come from. Nothing jumped from the background of the mountains and the valley they had left behind but Chapel felt as if she was being watched. She glanced at Uhura to confirm her suspicions and the both silently agreed to speed up, tugging hard on the reigns of their animals. But the camorses, unused to the commotion, reared back and stopped completely, jamming the pair forward in their saddle. Chapel risked a look back to scan the valley where they had come from again and was rewarded with a hit square in her chest by a heavy object. She slumped to the side and fell back first into the soft sand, missing a grouping of rocks by inches. The metallic sphere with its glowing green lights along the edges swooped low behind Chapel's camorse to try and knock Uhura off, intending to hit two targets in one. She was too quick for its attempt and dodged its spiraling descent by ducking down low against her seat at the last minute. The sphere careened into the ground behind her with a dull thud, its lights blinking erratically until it fell dark. On the ground, Chapel lay immobile and sinking slowly into the hot sand around her, feeling like all of the wind had been knocked out of her chest. Her mind screamed for her to get up, get moving, but the pain that racked her body slacken her response. She knew if she didn't move they were as good as dead as her unknown attackers would have seen her fall from her animal, likely speeding to catch up to them. Chapel felt another boom through the sand and felt the spray of dust that hit her left-hand side. Believing another attack was on the way, she raised her arms painfully to cover her face and torso.
"Chapel! You have got to get up damn it!" Uhura shouted over her body.
"Can't. Too. Much. Pain," Chapel managed between painful gasps of air. The damned machine, Chapel thought, must have been more powerful than she had recalled as she could feel her body seize up from more than just pain. Pain... that made her unable to move and made her heart jump erratically around her chest. Chapel realized, eyes wide and breath haggard, that the machine had injected her with a powerful immobilizing sedative and her body was reacting very negatively to the concoction. She had failed to identify that there was a toxic serum coursing though her body from the symptoms she was experiencing and it was far too late to do anything about it. Chapel wished she had access to the supplies she had in the medical bay, something that could have saved her or, hell at the very least, made it more comfortable if she did have to die a painful death. The fear of dying alone in the middle of a god-forsaken desert gripped her heart with dread until she remembered-- she wasn't alone. Relief washed through Chapel as she strained to glimpse Uhura's face through her stunned fingers, content to see the other woman was unharmed. But it wouldn't stay that way for long, if she couldn't get up. Uhura had kneeled down besides Chapel, wincing slightly as the burning sand met her knees. She put both of her shaking hands over Chapel's, sneezing them tightly with her own. Beyond the braying of the camorses and the low rumbling of what sounded like a distant storm Chapel could hear the yells of the men who where trying to take their lives, the sounds of their motor vehicle coming dangerously closer. Looking to Uhura, the excess noise seemed to fade away as the beautiful woman leaning over her whispered harshly in her ear.
"I know it's h...hard," Uhura stuttered. Chapel willed Uhura to continue, to push for her since her body had already given up. "I know you're in a lot of pain but, Chapel...Christine we have got to get you up or we're as good as dead." She called her name. In the history of their friendship, all the late night study sessions and mess hall lunch breaks, the nights danced away at exotic nightclubs and the stony moments of anger, up to the moment when they realized that their friendship was more than 'just a friendship' and they acknowledged their growing attraction with furtive kisses; Nyota Uhura and Christine Chapel have never called each other by their first name.
It was the jolt of reasoning that she needed.
"In. My pocket. Antidote," Chapel wheezed. Nodding, Uhura jumped to her feet and raced back to Chapel's camorse, running as fast as a world-class sprinter. Prepared for anything, McCoy and Chapel synthesized a general antidote as a precaution against any foreign on-world threats. Once Spock and McCoy had diagnosed the miner's disease and taken a bio-sample from one of the infected, they would have mixed the two together to hopefully create an antidote tailored to the population's specific need. If there had been a disease to begin with. Chapel had kept a vial of the general antidote with her when Aias and his men revealed their sinister intentions to her and her fellow crew. A plan that had been in the making for over twenty years. A plan that would go off, with just a minor hitch, if Uhura couldn't find the antidote in time. Time seemed suspended as Chapel counted the seconds off of the roar of the engine that was too close and, at any second, would stop and the bang of the men and their weapons would be the last thing she could hear.
"Hold still!" Uhura shouted as she slid to Chapel's side. The automatic hypodermic needle was gracelessly stabbed into the side of Chapel's neck as the sting rang out painfully through her body. The shot, if it worked, would only help her part of the way and, if she survived, she would only have the strength to stand. If they needed a quick getaway Chapel didn't know if she could manage it.
As Chapel stared up into a darkening sky she could still hear a low rumbling vibrate the ground as Uhura's kneeled at her side, still panting for air. Something tugged at Chapel's memory, a feeling of dread washed over her and she couldn't understand the connection, the sudden fear. If a storm was on its way, wouldn't that mean relief from the dreaded heat? But as Chapel felt her body tingling as the medicine worked its way through her system, her hands loosened up and she could feel the temperature of the air around her. The air was inconceivably cooler compared to a half-hour ago when the sky was lighter and the sound of rumbling was farther back. A sudden flash in Chapel's memory brought up the horrible images of a summer spent in Phoenix, helping her grandparents run one of the last for-tourist cattle ranches. That had been a terrible summer, now that Chapel could remember, as that was the summer that Phoenix had its worst sand storm in over a hundred years.
A sand storm was coming, and it sounded twice as powerful as the one Chapel had experienced as a teenager.
Eyes bulging, Chapel tuned her head to face Uhura, ignoring the pain the movement had caused. "Uhura, you have got to go now! There's a storm--a sand-storm's headed in our direction!"
"What?" Uhura asked as she looked towards the same threatening sky. She stood and turned to the east, her face wild with fear. "I can't leave you here!"
"I still can't move!" Chapel said, and tried to raise herself on her elbows for emphasis. A few inches off the ground Chapel crashed back hard, the pain in her lower torso unbearable. "You have to move now! Don't you understand!--"
"--You're not going anywhere, lloan'na," A strong voice called from behind them. Chapel had forgotten about the motor, and the dangerous men that accompanied that sound and, unfortunately, so had Uhura. She stood still with her hands at her side, positioning her body so that she was in front of the still-immobile woman laying in the sand. The man who had called out to her was a short balding man who looked as weathered as the light-brown tunic he was wearing. His ears had the same familiar point as Spock though Chapel would have been a fool to mistake him for a friendly Vulcan. Especially with an unknown weapon pointed straight at her partner. "You dirty bitches, it took us forever to catch up with you."
"Wait! There's a-"
"I don't want to hear whatever you have to say, lloan'na, you're coming with us."
"Will you listen to her!" Chapel yelled, from the ground. The tingling in her body had passed which left Chapel's body feeling unexpectedly numb. She tried her luck and sat up slowly, letting her head get used to being vertical again. She swayed as her head felt slightly dizzy but she could only feel slight pain and a throbbing headache. Noticing her movement, the man with the gun quickly pointed the weapon in her direction.
"What the hell do you think you're doing! Stay down!" The man kicked Chapel in the chest, grounding her once again. The pain from the boot slamming her into the ground was numbed with the antidote still in her system but Chapel knew she would be in for one hell of a night when the serum wore off.
"What the hell?!" Uhura called out furiously. She started to surge forward but Chapel managed to grab her leg. "Can't you tell she's hurt you bastard!"
"I'm warning you," The man said, his voice low with anger. "Stay where you are or I will blow your pretty head off. Otho! Get the hell out here, they're causing trouble!"
"I thought you had them, Nerva," Called the one Chapel assumed was Otho from their vehicle. A tall and lanky man, Otho slid out of his side of the worn-down jeep in a way that reminded Chapel of a eel slicking out of a hole. He looked as worn down has his plumper partner with his gun slung sloppily over his left shoulder. "We need to get back to the compound or Aias will kill us."
"Like he won't anyway. The man's mad with power!"
"And you wouldn't be?" Otho asked impartially as he spat on the ground. "Don't be mad we're the runts of the litter. We've got our place, so don't anger our leader."
"Don't forget who protected you from those other savages!"
"I'll never forget," Otho said coldly, his eyes the color of flint. Chapel had had enough of their bickering. If they didn't get a move on, they would all perish in the sand storm that was nearly upon them. The wind had began to blow heavily from the east and the little valley and mountain range Chapel and Uhura had spent the night in was obscured by a moving wall of sand.
"Enough of this!" Chapel roared. Rocking up to gain momentum she jerked forward and came to her knees. "Will you two idiots look behind you and see there is a sand-storm less than an hour away from our position?! If we do not find shelter, you won't have to worry about your ‘leader’ cause the storm will take care of your sorry asses first! If you're going to take us back, fine, I surrender," At Chapel's submission, Uhura shot her an angry look that Chapel dismissed. "But if you want us to get back alive hurry the hell up and make your decision!"
"As you wish, lhhei. Otho!" Nerva sneered in her direction. "Carry the cripple to the jeep and make sure she's secure! I thought I hit her directly in the chest but it looks like Gaius’ serum is wearing off. I'll grab the dark one." Nerva made a move to grab Uhura, but she jerked back before his hand could grab her shoulder.
"Where in the hell are we going to go?" Uhura yelled over the howling wind "Look around you, there's nothing for miles!"
"Shut up!" Nerva screamed and used the back of his weapon to bash Uhura over her head forcefully. Rage engulfed Chapel as she raced to catch her unconscious partner, ignoring the burning in her muscles or the blinding pain in her head. She caught Uhura’s limp body before her head could touch the still-warm sand. Chapel could see she would need stitches from the bleeding wound on her forehead. But she was breathing, softly, and was alive. Chapel wouldn’t say the same for the man who smirked wickedly in front of her.
"You bastard," Chapel said, almost deliriously. She had the presence of mind to lay Uhura on the ground before rising slowly, her head swimming and her fists shaking. "You will regret laying a finger on her, you son-of-a-bitch!"
A gun pressed to the small of her back as Otho grabbed her blonde locks and pulled her head back, hard enough to bruise. "Now, now, I don‘t think you‘re in the best place to make any threats. Nerva's going to grab your friend there and I will escort you to that jeep," Otho paused, pointing his gun to the jeep nearly engulfed in darkness. "If you give us any trouble, I will shoot your friend dead and leave your gutted remains to the thraiin, do you understand?"
Chapel had no choice. She nodded as much as she could and allowed herself to be walked to the back of the jeep where she was shoved roughly into the seat. The Romulan named Nerva handed Uhura into Chapel‘s arms, her body as limp as a rag doll. The men had no fear of reprisal from Chapel while in the jeep, the doors were securely attached to the frame of the car and, as she looked around the interior of the back cabin, there wasn't a crack or hole to be found. How far could Chapel, should she decide to rebel, get in her injured state carrying an unconscious woman through a sand-storm? For better or worse, Chapel thought dejectedly, they were stuck with their captors.
*~*~*~*
Aias is not an imposing figure to his men. He is shorter than most of his men, coming under the height of most Romulan women. His slender figure, built for Romulan nobility, is unable to keep up with the demands of living in an unforgiving landscape. Most of his men mock him behind his back, calling out his heritage and his weakened stature. But they dare not insult him to his face. For as much as the other men hate Aias they fear his rage and the men loyal to his cause. Gaius, his second in command, understood the hate that generated against the man. Nero, before he and his senior mining crew disappeared chasing after the Vulcan who destroyed their lives, left Aias in charge of the apprentices left behind on Beta Ciel. He had treated Aias like a son and the Romulan miner had confided with him the pain of losing his loved ones and his desire for revenge. It had poisoned his friend, consumed him with the need to please the only father figure in his life. It shaped him into the man he became, the ruthless leader of a haggard crew of twenty who commands the room like a king on a throne. Here he stood, flanked by Gaius and his other loyal followers as he interrogated the men who had let the prisoners escape in the dank antechamber of a ancient storeroom.
"How could you let this happen?" Aias demanded. The five kneeling Romulans wore the same ragged tunic as the others but their clothes were stained with dried blood. All of the beaten men had lowered their heads down, afraid to look their aggressor in the eyes. "Were you asleep? Too full of food and drink to concentrate on your duties? Answer me!"
"Aias, it is not our fault," Whimpered one of the men. Kneeling at the end of the three man line, Gaius could see the quivering mass that made up the younger fool. His name was Koios and like his dimwitted partners, Nestor and Sarpedon, he had allowed the four humans and the Vulcan prisoners escape. His attempt to garner sympathy from Aias would be to no avail, their leader was a patient man who spent years coming up with the perfect plan to capture the lloann'mhrahel scum that murdered his mentor and master. He would not allow failure as an excuse.
"Quiet Koios," Gaius ordered from behind the steel table, which Aias occasionally used as a desk. The top of the table held the compound’s most important paperwork and a series of maps, diagrams, and communication codes. It would not do for the men to completely breakdown in front of Aias, as it would be a sign of disrespect.
"It is not our fault!" Koios cried out. His chest heaved raggedly from the sickness that had overtaken his lungs. Romulan miners were susceptible to a myriad of diseases; of which only a handful of them were deadly. Unfortunately for Koios, he had contracted one of the few exceptions. A sacrificial lamb in Aias's plans, Koios's declining health lured the unsuspecting officers of the Enterprise to the planet and the waiting arms of Aias and his men. Koios was also the fool who had let his captain and his officers escape from their final destination of their well-secured cells. Aias's anger would see to it that their suffering would last through the night.
"Silence!" Aias barked. He grabbed Koios's tunic, bunching the material of his shirt with his fist. This lifted the younger man to his feet. "You should be so lucky that you are still breathing, feanna."
Aias's eyes swept over the other four guards and with a quick nod dispatched his followers to grab the rest of the beaten men. Gaius remained behind the steel table, holding out the rolled edges of several maps that depicted the surface of Beta Ciel. The planet, as far as any of the men had explored, was nothing more than a desert wasteland dotted with small oasis. These oasis led to abandoned mines, left by an unknown civilization thousands of years ago. Gaius believed these tunnels, hubs, and underground stations were used as shelters from dangerous sand-storms. According to the maps Gaius held in his hand, the escapee had few escape routes available to them. If Vitus and Damon, the men responsible with the maintenance and observation of all the electrical equipment in their compound were correct, a fierce sand-storm was ravaging the mountain ranges to the west and southwest. Gaius discussed the options available with Aias and sent most of the remaining competent men to the north, leaving Otho and Nerva to capture the females escapees while Marius and Sergius went after the men. Gaius could only hope the men could catch the prisoners before they discovered the range the communication jammers had. Or Aias would have more than the escapees to worry about.
"Aias, have we heard from any of the men sent out before the storm?" Gaius asked.
"We have, Gaius," Andreus and Aurelius, Aias’s personal bodyguards, answered at the same time. The men in their grasp stood placidly by and offered no struggle. "They radioed in before the storm hit-- they got the women!"
"Your answer, sir," Aias sneered. He turned his attention back to the man still his grasp, upset his interrogation session was being interrupted. "Andreus! Aurelius! Can we radio them back?"
"Not until the storm is over, Aias."
"So unfortunate for you, Koios. Have we heard from Marius and Sergius?"
"Vitus and Damon haven't heard from them--" Andreus began.
"--Are you worried?" Aurelius finished. Aias shook his head as a response.
"Not now. I am confident there are men still under my command that can follow my instructions. Gaius!"
"Yes, Aias."
"Check with Marius and Sergius tomorrow. Make sure my men understand that they have two choices-- either they catch the prisoners or tell them there is no need to come back. I will not allow another mistake," Aias ordered, his voice low and dangerous. Gaius sighed a made a mental note to talk with Vitus in the morning as a precaution to Aias's rage. Wherever Marius and Sergius were Gaius hoped, for their safety, they had caught the prisoners.
"Anything else Aias?"
"Yes," Aias purred viciously as he met the eyes of his second in command. "Leave us. I have to teach these men a lesson."
"As you wish, Aias," Gaius said as he left the room, indifferent to the screams that followed him through the hallway.
*~*~*~*
"Good lord he's heavy," Captain Kirk complained as he shifted his shoulders to accommodate the weight of the Romulan on his shoulder. The brute weighed more than he could bench in the Starfleet training room. He made three steps before McCoy came to his aid, holding the man by the legs.
"Are you trying to pull your back?"
"Maybe," Kirk shrugged his free shoulder. "I could use the rest, and the lovely visitors."
"I bet," McCoy mumbled. "Speaking of biting off more than one can chew, have you seen--"
"Spock?" Replied the Vulcan from the tunnel from the right. He cupped his right wrist in his left hand, rubbing the muscle underneath. "I believe you were searching for me."
"Yeah, I was. Where the hell did you run off to?"
"I was, as Captain Kirk would say, 'taking care' of our Romulan captor. I assume you have incapacitated his partner?" Spock asked, his left eyebrow arched. Kirk turned back around to face the Vulcan, grinning ear to ear.
"Already quoting me Spock?"
"The use of your standard colloquiums, Captain, was the most efficient expression to use."
"Aww, you see McCoy? He's not so bad."
"Spock, you're smarter than him. Don't encourage the idiot."
"That means he loves us too, Spock," Kirk chirped. The men continued down the rocky path of the abandoned mine, away from the storm raging outside. The distant wailing of the storm wind was the only sound the men could hear as the explored the mine for any signs of a safe exit. Going by Kirk's intuition the men found shelter from the heat in the shimmering oasis after their daring escape. The leader of the Romulan apprentices had promised death and torture to all aboard the Enterprise as retribution against his fallen masters. Kirk could live with his fate, after all he was the one who put his life on the line for mysterious message. But the captain could not imagine, could not tolerate, the suffering of his crew at the hands of a madman, a Romulan at that. He feigned obedience as did the rest of his crew until they were separated and sent to their individual cells. Kirk may not have been an expert at hand-to-hand combat as well as Sulu but he knew how to throw down when his life depended on it. And he did, knocking his guard to the ground with a powerful kick to his stomach when he let his guard down. Catching on to the mayhem, Spock slid out of the grasp of his guard and knocked the man in his face with the back of his head. He swept the legs from under the man to bring him down. McCoy, Chapel, and Uhura finished off their handlers and met their fellow crewmembers at the front gate. The warning siren blared and the men who were aware of the breakout tried to incapacitate the escapees with blasts of gunfire from the towers of the compound. The decision was made to split up, making the crew as a whole harder to catch in the hope that one group would be able to reach the Enterprise before the others were caught. Back in the tunnel, Kirk cursed himself against the quick-fired decision to leave Chapel and Uhura to face the worst that this damned planet had to throw at them. He hoped that the ladies found out the secret of the oasis before the storm or their captors overtook them.
"Captain, we must hurry," Spock said, his voice echoing through the tunnel. "I fear the storm is increasing in power and magnitude, and we are in direct danger."
"Keep your shirt on Spock, I'm running as fast as I can!"
"Jim?"
"Yeah?"
"Remind me again why we're lugging this heavy bastard around?" McCoy asked, out of breath. His question made Kirk stop abruptly in the middle of the tunnel, forcing the other men to collide into each other. They eyed each other warily, then turned their attention to their leader.
"Good question." Kirk said, tossing the unconscious captor to the ground. He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his neck around, relieving his pain. "Thanks McCoy."
"According to the data chip I retrieved from the assailant, we should encounter the central hub the connecting tunnels in one point six kilometers."
"Bones?"
"Over a mile, Jim. Quit your whining."
"Just checking. Hey Spock?"
"Captain?"
"I've been thinking," Kirk paused, his demeanor serious. "If bozo number one had access to tunnel maps and schematics info--"
"--It is also logical to conclude that his partner might have access to information pertaining their colleagues. Would you like me to check, Captain?"
Kirk looked down to the man laying on the ground and made a face. "Yes, yes I would."
Pulling out a data pad, Spock bent over the fallen Romulan, searching through his pockets. Minutes later he located a small data chip and inserted into his pad, loading the information contained within. Spock searched through the files as Kirk and McCoy looked on, politely curious. A series of beeps alerted the Vulcan to the information he was searching for.
"I have located two Romulan miners away from their compound, yet close enough for us to investigate. Following the main tunnel through the central hub will give us the best strategic opportunity for engagement."
"How far away are they and how long will it take for us to get there?" Kirk asked, his hands on his hips.
"Approximately three point three kilometers. It would take us less than an hour to reach Lieutenant Uhura and Lieutenant Chapel, if they have been captured."
"We'll hope for the best. The sooner we find Chapel and Uhura the sooner we can get of this god-forsaken planet."
"Couldn't have said it better," McCoy replied merrily. The less time he spent slumming through dank tunnels being chased by crazy Romulan gunners the better he would feel. "Let's go gentlemen, we've got officers to save."
*~*~*~*
Her head screamed in pain. She flitted through moments of consciousness, her mind a constant state of turmoil. The last thing that Lieutenant Uhura could remember, before she awoke, was the tail end of the futuristic Romulan rifle coming down on her head and Christine Chapel holding her in her arms. Awake, her injury to the head reminded her in a painfully throbbing way that she and her lover had been caught by their Romulan captors and were being held against their will. In what looked like an abandoned mining station below the ground. The room they were being kept in reminded Uhura of the subterranean testing grounds she trained in when she was a cadet, windowless dens the color of sculptor’s clay. It was furnished only the necessities-- a tiny metal cot shoved in the largest corner of the room with a thin mattress covered by a thread-bare blanket. There was a bucket in another corner, presumably to be used as a toilet, and nothing else. The heavy metal door was bolted tightly and had no signs of weaknesses as Uhura could attest to. It was the first item she had examined when she awakened. She had returned to the cot where lieutenant Chapel, Christine, had fallen asleep, no doubt exhausted from her ordeal. Covered in gritty sand and dust, the older woman looked more the part of a vagabond than a Starfleet officer. Her muscles still twitched occasionally while she slept, her body trying to recover from the strain she put herself through. The feeling of guilt washed over Uhura as she watched the other women breathe in and out evenly. Why had she thought splitting up from Kirk, Spock, and McCoy would be a good idea? As much as she loathed the thought of asking Kirk for help under normal circumstances, she should have listened to her instincts and stayed with her fellow offices, even if meant a greater chance for their captors to catch them. At the very least if they had traveled as a group they would have been caught together or, Uhura hoped, they might have had a chance to defeat them. None of that mattered now as she and Chapel were stuck, with no way of getting out. The shifting of the cot she was sitting on alerted Uhura of Chapel’s awakened state.
“Hey,” Uhura called softly. Chapel stirred at the sound of Uhura’s voice, her crystal-blue eyes opening a fraction of an inch as she focused on Uhura. Chapel offered the other woman a small smile as she moved over to accommodate her.
“Come here,” Chapel asked. Uhura slid down on the narrow bed next to Chapel as she snaked her left arm underneath Chapel‘s arm to rest it against her side. They laid silently on the bed, enjoying the feeling of being next to each other.
“Comfortable?”
“Oh yes.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like hell,” Uhura laughed, then winced when the pain rushed to the surface of her consciousness; laying down had made the pain almost tolerable. She cursed herself again for getting herself and Chapel into their mess. “You?”
“I’ve felt better,” Chapel said, clearing her throat while sitting up. Baring the weird sensation of her muscles twitching involuntarily she was relieved to feel no lingering pain in her body. “But I have no complaints.”
“I do. Besides the obvious removal of our phasers did they have to rip our communicators off our shirts?”
“Let’s hope that’s all they did,” Chapel laughed as Uhura shuddered.
“I’m sorry.”
“…What?” Chapel asked, confused.
“I said I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Uhura sighed and stared at the ceiling. “For bringing you here.”
“Uhura, I volunteered to join the mission.”
“You wouldn’t have left the ship if I hadn’t recommended you.”
“Please,” Chapel snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. We both know I wouldn’t have set one foot off the ship if McCoy didn’t ask Captain Kirk directly.”
“Still,” Uhura smiled. “I still feel responsible.”
Uhura wasn’t fooled by Chapel’s backward compliment to her superior officer and friend. In reality, they both knew that Chapel had accompanied McCoy on several of his medical excursions as part of Starfleet’s residency program. Uhura had pushed her friend to obtain her doctoral after her nasty divorce from her unscrupulous husband, presenting the extra work, study sessions, and thesis research Chapel would have to do as a completion challenge before Uhura finished the commander track in a bid to become captain of her own ship. Uhura made the decision to become a captain as a part of an effort to push herself away from the Vulcan who had broken her heart and move closer to the woman who had captured her interest. Looking back, Uhura couldn’t tell when the interest ended and the attraction began as the time Uhura spent in the company of Chapel became more and more frequent as the women became inseparable. Now, laying in the dank cell of Romulan miners, Uhura couldn’t fathom what she would have done if something had happened to Chapel. It was safe to say Nyota Uhura had never felt this way about any man she had been in a relationship with, and it scared her that the woman sitting next to her could bring out such emotions. There was another lapse into silence as Chapel regarded Uhura’s response.
“You shouldn‘t. You aren‘t. Don‘t, Uhura.”
“But--”
“Nyota!” Chapel shouted as an attempt to get Uhura’s attention. It worked, as the younger woman stared into her eyes with a thoughtful expression. “Why are you so upset?”
“Do you want to know something funny?”
“No, I want you to answer my question.”
“I’m going to,“ Uhura waved a flippant hand in the air. “But first, let me ask you a question.”
Chapel eyed Uhura warily before responding. “Do I have a choice?”
“No,” Uhura smiled sweetly.
“Fine. Go ahead.”
“Did you realize that this is the first time you called me by my first name?”
“I did,” Chapel said. “I needed your attention since you kept yammerin’ on about nothing. You did the same thing earlier today.”
“So I did,” Uhura murmured.
“I know you’re kind of weird about the first name thing.”
“Weird?”
“Well its not exactly weird, but you believe that others should earn your respect before having the privilege of addressing you by your first name. I respect that.”
“You do?” Uhura asked uncertainly.
“Yes. I want to earn the right…. I want you to feel comfortable in letting me….”
“I don’t think I have to tell you that after today you have more than earned my respect.”
“Wonderful,” Chapel beamed.
“That’s why I’m acting out of sorts, I guess. If something would have happened to you--”
“--Like being knocked of a seven foot tall half-camel half-horse?’
“If something,” Uhura continued. “Had happened to you that could have permanently injured or killed you… I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Oh.”
“Right.”
“I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?”
“I didn’t know you were this serious.”
“Aren’t you?” Uhura asked. The fear of being rejected sunk its way into her stomach like a lead weight. Upset, Uhura climbed off of the small cot and walked over near the door, facing away from the bed. Chapel, with some trouble, soon joined her lover at her side.
“Uhura. Nyota. I didn’t mean to upset you--”
“--Wait--”
“--And I know we’ve been getting closer in the past year--”
“--No really, Christine, listen--”
“--We’ve been dating for a couple of months and it’s been wonderful and everything that I’d imagined it to be--”
“--Someone’s coming!” Uhura whispered harshly. She covered Chapel’s mouth with her hands to give her a chance to hear the sounds of heavy footsteps and loud grumbling. Eyes wide, Chapel removed Uhura’s hand to whisper in her ear.
“What do we do?” Chapel whispered back. The sensation of Chapel’s breath on Uhura’s ear would be very, very pleasing in another context. She would have to remember to tell Chapel that when they had a moment in private.
“I don’t know.”
“Is there anything we can use as a weapon?”
“Look around us! Everything is either bolted down or heavy as hell,” Uhura gestured to the sparse room.
“Ok. We need to think.”
“Think? They’re almost here!”
“I can hear that! Wait…” Chapel paused. She dug around her person like a wild woman, searching for something. She produced a tiny plastic box from a pouch around her neck.
“What? What are you looking for?”
“This…”
“What are they?” Uhura asked, eyeing the tiny brown pellets rolling around in Chapel’s palm.
“Remember when I had to do research on alternative homeopathic medicinal herbs for crew members with non-common humanoid ancestry?”
“Yes, you mentioned it a couple of months ago.”
“Remember why I stopped my research?’
“You called it ‘an utter waste of Federation time and money’ if I remember correctly.”
“I didn’t exactly say that.”
“Close enough!”
“Ok, ok. Well I wanted to synthesize an all-natural general antidote for anyone who wanted an alternative.”
“How is this going to help us? Are we going to heal those idiots?”
“No! That’s the best part,” Chapel said as she smiled. “I could never figure out the right combination that would allow non-humanoids and humanoids to receive the right amount of medicine in a safe dosage.”
Uhura’s face lit up as she figured out what Chapel was going to. “Will it kill them?”
“I don’t think so. Hopefully it will do enough damage to knock them out.”
“How will we get them to eat it?” Uhura asked apprehensively as the sound of stomping boots echoed through the door.
“Didn’t think that far.”
“But--!”
“We’ll figure it out! Are you ready?” Chapel asked as she tossed one of the pellets into Uhura’s cupped hands.
“Ready,” Uhura replied firmly, her eyes on the unlocking door.
*~*~*~*
“Where are we Spock?”
“Less than a kilometer from the source of the signal, Captain.”
“Let’s move it!”
“Captain, the expression you used--”
“Not now Spock!”
“Make the right up ahead, Jim!”
“Gotcha!”
“Where is everyone?”
“There are signs of activity in here, Lieutenant McCoy.”
“What the… hell? Are they dead? Jim, go kick the bastards.”
“Captain, allow me.”
“Are you going to kick them Spock?”
“No, captain.”
“Then no.”
“Jim.”
“Alright. Spoil sport. Permission granted, Spock.”
“They appear to be appear to be unconscious and breathing steadily, doctor. The vomiting suggests these captors have ingested an organic stimulator made from an herbal supplement not common to this part of the alpha quadrant.”
“Are you saying they ingested a oral enema, Spock?”
“That would be correct, captain, if you must frame my response in such a… unpleasing metaphor.”
“Disgusting. Alright people, are their any signs of the ladies?”
“Nothing recent.”
“Damn. Wait. What was that noise?”
“I’ll check it out.”
“Be careful, Bones.”
“I’ve got more luck than you. I think I should be good.”
“Bastard. Spock?”
“Captain?”
“We should follow him, shouldn’t we?”
“I would think that would be the most logical choice, sir.”
“Thought so. Let’s go.”
“Bones! Nyota! Christine!”
“Lieutenant McCoy! Lieutenant Uhura! Lieutenant Chapel!”
“What the hell are you yelling on about? I’m right her--”
“McCoy watch out!”
*~*~*~*
White monitors beeped steadily as the machines monitored the injured and the sick. Medical bay staff kept an eye on everyone as the Chief Medical officer and Head nurse were still listed as unavailable. McCoy sat on the medical table in his office, holding a cold compress to the swelled bruise on his right temple. To his left, Christine Chapel finished sealing the top of the wound that she had made when she used the Romulan plasma rifle as a club against McCoy’s skull. She had feared McCoy was another Romulan miner alerted to his fallen comrades’ status and used the fallen weapon to fend off her perceived attacker. Luck was on McCoy’s side that Chapel and Uhura decided to stun, rather than shoot, anyone who dared cross their path. McCoy sat in a stewing anger as Chapel closed his wound with a surgical laser, trying to keep her laughter from bubbling out.
“This is not funny, Chapel.”
“I know, sir.”
“I can hear you, you know. “
“And I am so sorry about that McCoy,” Chapel apologized with a smirk, for the hundredth time. Once, the Enterprise had felt less like a home and more of a stop-over to the life she had left behind on Earth. As she stood, patching McCoy’s cut, Chapel felt secure that her place was among the stars, healing the cadets and officers of Starfleet‘s finest. “Now hold still, you’re almost finished.”
“That damn laser burns like hell.”
“If you would hold still you wouldn’t feel a thing, you big baby.”
“I am not,” McCoy grumbled. Satisfied with her work, Chapel laid the laser on the little tray that hovered at elbow-level to her right. She applied a bandage to the cleaned wound, applying pressure all around the edges of the bandage to keep it firmly in place. When she was finished, McCoy stood carefully with his hands bracing the table for support.
“Thanks.”
“It’s my duty,” Chapel said as she snapped off her protective gloves.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thank you.”
“Good. You know, you should go talk to her.”
“Who?” Chapel feigned ignorance. She knew this argument was coming despite Chapel’s effort to avoid McCoy’s probing at any cost. Her friend had been her most encouraging supporter of her re-joining the dating scene, even if it meant he had to hit Chapel over the head with obvious hints and caring advice on the verge of being overbearing. He was the first person that knew she and Uhura were dating, being the driving force in pushing Chapel to take the chance and kiss Uhura. In Chapel’s opinion it had been his best piece of advice to date.
“You know damn well who I meant.”
“I know,” Chapel sighed, smiling. “I did. We talked last night.”
“Just talked?”
“That’s none of your business, McCoy.”
“Can’t blame a guy for asking,” McCoy laughed. “So does that mean…”
“…We’re dating officially? Yes.”
“About time.”
“Funny. We’re finished?”
“Fill out your paperwork yet?”
Chapel raised her data pad in the air. “All done. Now if you will excuse me, I have another date to get to.”
“Go, on get outta here,” McCoy ordered gruffly as Chapel waved goodbye and left his office.
The End.
Author: starberry_slash
Recipient: templemarker
Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)
Pairing: Uhura/Chapel
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~ 8,600
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to the respective owners, no copyright infringement intended.
Summary: On a small M-class planet in the farthest reaches of the Alpha quadrant, Nyota Uhura and Christine Chapel struggle to survive against a savage planet and a dangerous enemy.
Notes: Thanks to my RL beta reader and my recipient Templemarker, whose help was an invaluable jumping-off point for a ST newb like me. I hope everything is to your liking--enjoy!
In the pre-dawn morning, on a small M-class planet in the alpha quadrant, the sky a hue of blue tinged red and yellow at the edge. The small valley below the sand-colored mountains was cloaked in darkness, the oven-like heat that would engulf the area was absent for the time being. The small stream that ran through the heart of the valley once had the power to carve the ridge now occupied by two people. Christine Chapel would have started the Gamma shift on a day like today with a strong cup of replicated coffee and a snappy retort waiting for the Chief Medical Officer that reported next shift. This morning, Chapel stood calmly outside the emergency pup tent scanning the valley for any signs of movement, her long blonde hair whipping lightly in the cool wind. Lieutenant Uhura still remained inside of their one-person tent, asleep after volunteering for the first watch hours ago. Chapel wanted her partner to get as much rest as she could, but the sky was beginning to lighten and the heat of the day would be upon them soon. The braying of the strange half horse, half camel creatures sleeping beside their tent made Chapel jump with tension. She turned to see her awakened partner kneeling on the ground, petting the animals affectionately.
“Sleep well?”
“As well as could be expected, given the situation,” Uhura said, climbing to her feet and to join Chapel at her side. She raked a hand through her long dark locks to untangle them from hours of sleep.
“Good.”
“Were there any problems?”
A small smile crossed Chapel’s face. “Between the freezing cold and the sound of booming gun-fire to the east? I’d say I had a relatively stress-free night.”
“Do you know where we are?” Uhura asked upbeat, playfully ignoring Chapel’s complaint.
“No clue. But judging from the position of the Silvanus Occultus constellation in the lower half of the sky, I’d say we should head to the southwest to put some distance between us and those gun-crazy freaks.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
A steady silence fell between the two women as they packed up their makeshift campsite and prepared their rides. Uhura appointed herself the task of erasing their presence, ensuring that their captors could not gain the upper hand on their location. The camorses, a name Chapel gave the strange but useful beasts she and Uhura found as they fled from the encampment, stood by patiently, watching the cleaning process. They had rejected their unexpected masters until Uhura offered them remnants of the food that had been in their possession, and they stayed relatively loyal. When everything was packed, the pair navigated the clearing they chose as their base camp walking side by side. They followed a narrow path that was lined with bushes, hopeful that the direction would lead them out of the valley.
“Are you hungry?” Chapel asked, her voice muffled by her makeshift head-wrap. Both women had taken odd pieces of their unneeded clothing and tore them apart to wrap them around their heads as added protection. The climate of Beta Ciel was as harsh as any desert back on planet Earth as Chapel and Uhura suffered slightly from the effects of spending most of the previous day riding under a hot sun. Stomach rumbling, Chapel cleared her head of thoughts that reminded her of the breakfast she would have been enjoying in the mess hall. Reaching into the left hand bag on the camorse’s saddle, she grabbed a handful of rectangular-shaped food wrapped in metallic foil. “We have a couple of these E-bars left but-”
“I know,” Uhura interrupted. “We need to ration them out.”
“As well as feed these hungry mongrels,” Chapel emphasized, giving the reigns to her ride a slight tug.
"Any harm in splitting one right now? I’m starving.”
“Not that I can see,” Chapel cheered, keeping one of the bars in her hand while she put the rest back in her pocket. She held the bar out for Uhura to break it in half and the younger woman's hand brushed slightly against hers as she snapped an equal sized chunk of the bar from Chapel. Her touch sent shivers down Chapel's spine and Chapel pretended to study the pattern in her saddle to conceal the blush rising in her cheeks. Blushing, at her age, she should be ashamed of herself. Chapel was easily older than most of the Enterprise crew with McCoy and Scott being her closest companions, until the divorce from Roger threw her world for a loop. She thought he was happy and willing to wait for her to come home from her five year mission. But Chapel noticed how the conversations became few and far between and the rumors circling about her husband's ‘extra-curricular activities’ with his robotic work became too many to count. So she had found solace in an unexpected place, a friendship and an unlikely ally in a time when Chapel had to face through the worst months of her life. Coming back to the present Chapel was pleased to find herself again with the one person who had seen her at her lowest and still remained by her side. Smiling at her memories Chapel brought the other end of the bar back to her mouth, letting her teeth pull apart the wrapper. Free of wrapping, Chapel raised her piece in the air, giving a salute. “Here’s to Captain Kirk…”
“Who can never stay away from a challenge,” Uhura finished.
Chapel surmised the captain’s curiosity had led the crew into the mess that they were currently in as days earlier the crew of the Enterprise had received a distress signal from an unidentified planet which Commander Spock deemed it habitable for humanoid life forms. Captain Kirk called a meeting with his chief of staff after Uhura had decoded enough of the message to understand that a man, calling himself Aias, pleaded for Federation intervention in a medical crisis. The population of miners, in the only working compound on the planet, had come under attack of a mysterious disease that had stopped the production of their mining operation. Shouted debates and logical reasoning between Kirk, McCoy, and Spock had led to resolution that the crew, along with Chapel as an assistant to McCoy and Uhura as translator, would leave immediately if anything went awry. The captain wasted no time before beaming a crew of ten down to the planet, believing that lives were at stake and to wait around for more diagnostics would be time wasted. The crew were greeted in the endless desert with quiet ambassadors who whispered the name of their home, Beta Ciel, over the hot desert winds.
Away from the valley Chapel felt uncomfortable moving forward. The coolness of midnight was a distant memory as the heat of the desert enveloped Chapel and Uhura, prompting them to mount their camorses to keep them from sinking into the soft desert sand. In the open they were vulnerable as their Starfleet regulation uniforms made them an easy target in a neutral-colored landscape. As they rode through the endless seas of sand Chapel kept her mind alert and wary of any signs of movement in her peripheral. She glanced over to her silent partner, pleased to see that the woman had the same stiff posture and steady hands she employed. Chapel felt confident counting on Uhura if the situation got really serious, really fast, as Uhura's calm exterior made Chapel feel more at ease. As much as she could feel at ease as Chapel had spotted something small in front of her.
"Jackal, or something like it," Uhura called out to Chapel as the creature dashed across the desert. It was unusual to see any animals during the day in any desert terrain. Chapel remembered animals prefer to roam and hunt during the cooler mornings and evenings. "It's weird seeing it out now."
"Maybe it's hunting."
"Mmm, I don't think so."
"Well," Chapel said, pulling up on her reigns and halting her camorse. A large family of rabbits hopped out of a small sand-covered cave and over a sand dune despite the risk of the golden brown predator spotted earlier. "I think we should follow it. Might lead us to water."
"It might lead us to our death."
"What other choice do we have?" Chapel said, snapping the reigns and pushing her camorse onward. Birds with plain black and white markings zoomed over head and off to a westerly direction. Strange, Chapel thought. All the animals were headed in the direction they were going, none of them frightened by their presence to change their course. She wondered-- what was pushing them forward? "We're wanted back east and we still can't get in contact with Enterprise. I was thinkin' if we move east far enough--"
"That's right...We'd be out of range of their jammers. We could contact Sulu!"
"Before we get ahead of ourselves, I think there's something wrong."
"Wrong?" Uhura asked, her eyes tracking Beta Ciel's version of sand mice race up the dunes.
"Yes..." Chapel stopped, her eyes glued to the skies overhead. She had been searching for any sign of civilization by tracking which direction the large predator birds were going. When Chapel was a little girl in Texas, her brothers taught her to track red-tailed hawk movements through the forests near her home. The birds tended to congregate by large sources of food such as rivers or lakes. But the movement of these large alien birds would be deemed unusual to the untrained eye as they flew into each other's territory and cruised into stretches of sand that looked uninhabitable to the toughest of creatures. Something was not right. Chapel turned to the sky for answers, looking upward. The day had began as cloudless and hot as any in a desert but slowly, Chapel noticed, the skies from the east had darken considerably, as if the skies were threatening rain. Something was definitely not right. "What the hell is going on?"
Before Chapel could hear Uhura's response, there was the sound of firecrackers exploding overhead. Frantic, Chapel and Uhura swiveled their heads around to see where the noise had come from. Nothing jumped from the background of the mountains and the valley they had left behind but Chapel felt as if she was being watched. She glanced at Uhura to confirm her suspicions and the both silently agreed to speed up, tugging hard on the reigns of their animals. But the camorses, unused to the commotion, reared back and stopped completely, jamming the pair forward in their saddle. Chapel risked a look back to scan the valley where they had come from again and was rewarded with a hit square in her chest by a heavy object. She slumped to the side and fell back first into the soft sand, missing a grouping of rocks by inches. The metallic sphere with its glowing green lights along the edges swooped low behind Chapel's camorse to try and knock Uhura off, intending to hit two targets in one. She was too quick for its attempt and dodged its spiraling descent by ducking down low against her seat at the last minute. The sphere careened into the ground behind her with a dull thud, its lights blinking erratically until it fell dark. On the ground, Chapel lay immobile and sinking slowly into the hot sand around her, feeling like all of the wind had been knocked out of her chest. Her mind screamed for her to get up, get moving, but the pain that racked her body slacken her response. She knew if she didn't move they were as good as dead as her unknown attackers would have seen her fall from her animal, likely speeding to catch up to them. Chapel felt another boom through the sand and felt the spray of dust that hit her left-hand side. Believing another attack was on the way, she raised her arms painfully to cover her face and torso.
"Chapel! You have got to get up damn it!" Uhura shouted over her body.
"Can't. Too. Much. Pain," Chapel managed between painful gasps of air. The damned machine, Chapel thought, must have been more powerful than she had recalled as she could feel her body seize up from more than just pain. Pain... that made her unable to move and made her heart jump erratically around her chest. Chapel realized, eyes wide and breath haggard, that the machine had injected her with a powerful immobilizing sedative and her body was reacting very negatively to the concoction. She had failed to identify that there was a toxic serum coursing though her body from the symptoms she was experiencing and it was far too late to do anything about it. Chapel wished she had access to the supplies she had in the medical bay, something that could have saved her or, hell at the very least, made it more comfortable if she did have to die a painful death. The fear of dying alone in the middle of a god-forsaken desert gripped her heart with dread until she remembered-- she wasn't alone. Relief washed through Chapel as she strained to glimpse Uhura's face through her stunned fingers, content to see the other woman was unharmed. But it wouldn't stay that way for long, if she couldn't get up. Uhura had kneeled down besides Chapel, wincing slightly as the burning sand met her knees. She put both of her shaking hands over Chapel's, sneezing them tightly with her own. Beyond the braying of the camorses and the low rumbling of what sounded like a distant storm Chapel could hear the yells of the men who where trying to take their lives, the sounds of their motor vehicle coming dangerously closer. Looking to Uhura, the excess noise seemed to fade away as the beautiful woman leaning over her whispered harshly in her ear.
"I know it's h...hard," Uhura stuttered. Chapel willed Uhura to continue, to push for her since her body had already given up. "I know you're in a lot of pain but, Chapel...Christine we have got to get you up or we're as good as dead." She called her name. In the history of their friendship, all the late night study sessions and mess hall lunch breaks, the nights danced away at exotic nightclubs and the stony moments of anger, up to the moment when they realized that their friendship was more than 'just a friendship' and they acknowledged their growing attraction with furtive kisses; Nyota Uhura and Christine Chapel have never called each other by their first name.
It was the jolt of reasoning that she needed.
"In. My pocket. Antidote," Chapel wheezed. Nodding, Uhura jumped to her feet and raced back to Chapel's camorse, running as fast as a world-class sprinter. Prepared for anything, McCoy and Chapel synthesized a general antidote as a precaution against any foreign on-world threats. Once Spock and McCoy had diagnosed the miner's disease and taken a bio-sample from one of the infected, they would have mixed the two together to hopefully create an antidote tailored to the population's specific need. If there had been a disease to begin with. Chapel had kept a vial of the general antidote with her when Aias and his men revealed their sinister intentions to her and her fellow crew. A plan that had been in the making for over twenty years. A plan that would go off, with just a minor hitch, if Uhura couldn't find the antidote in time. Time seemed suspended as Chapel counted the seconds off of the roar of the engine that was too close and, at any second, would stop and the bang of the men and their weapons would be the last thing she could hear.
"Hold still!" Uhura shouted as she slid to Chapel's side. The automatic hypodermic needle was gracelessly stabbed into the side of Chapel's neck as the sting rang out painfully through her body. The shot, if it worked, would only help her part of the way and, if she survived, she would only have the strength to stand. If they needed a quick getaway Chapel didn't know if she could manage it.
As Chapel stared up into a darkening sky she could still hear a low rumbling vibrate the ground as Uhura's kneeled at her side, still panting for air. Something tugged at Chapel's memory, a feeling of dread washed over her and she couldn't understand the connection, the sudden fear. If a storm was on its way, wouldn't that mean relief from the dreaded heat? But as Chapel felt her body tingling as the medicine worked its way through her system, her hands loosened up and she could feel the temperature of the air around her. The air was inconceivably cooler compared to a half-hour ago when the sky was lighter and the sound of rumbling was farther back. A sudden flash in Chapel's memory brought up the horrible images of a summer spent in Phoenix, helping her grandparents run one of the last for-tourist cattle ranches. That had been a terrible summer, now that Chapel could remember, as that was the summer that Phoenix had its worst sand storm in over a hundred years.
A sand storm was coming, and it sounded twice as powerful as the one Chapel had experienced as a teenager.
Eyes bulging, Chapel tuned her head to face Uhura, ignoring the pain the movement had caused. "Uhura, you have got to go now! There's a storm--a sand-storm's headed in our direction!"
"What?" Uhura asked as she looked towards the same threatening sky. She stood and turned to the east, her face wild with fear. "I can't leave you here!"
"I still can't move!" Chapel said, and tried to raise herself on her elbows for emphasis. A few inches off the ground Chapel crashed back hard, the pain in her lower torso unbearable. "You have to move now! Don't you understand!--"
"--You're not going anywhere, lloan'na," A strong voice called from behind them. Chapel had forgotten about the motor, and the dangerous men that accompanied that sound and, unfortunately, so had Uhura. She stood still with her hands at her side, positioning her body so that she was in front of the still-immobile woman laying in the sand. The man who had called out to her was a short balding man who looked as weathered as the light-brown tunic he was wearing. His ears had the same familiar point as Spock though Chapel would have been a fool to mistake him for a friendly Vulcan. Especially with an unknown weapon pointed straight at her partner. "You dirty bitches, it took us forever to catch up with you."
"Wait! There's a-"
"I don't want to hear whatever you have to say, lloan'na, you're coming with us."
"Will you listen to her!" Chapel yelled, from the ground. The tingling in her body had passed which left Chapel's body feeling unexpectedly numb. She tried her luck and sat up slowly, letting her head get used to being vertical again. She swayed as her head felt slightly dizzy but she could only feel slight pain and a throbbing headache. Noticing her movement, the man with the gun quickly pointed the weapon in her direction.
"What the hell do you think you're doing! Stay down!" The man kicked Chapel in the chest, grounding her once again. The pain from the boot slamming her into the ground was numbed with the antidote still in her system but Chapel knew she would be in for one hell of a night when the serum wore off.
"What the hell?!" Uhura called out furiously. She started to surge forward but Chapel managed to grab her leg. "Can't you tell she's hurt you bastard!"
"I'm warning you," The man said, his voice low with anger. "Stay where you are or I will blow your pretty head off. Otho! Get the hell out here, they're causing trouble!"
"I thought you had them, Nerva," Called the one Chapel assumed was Otho from their vehicle. A tall and lanky man, Otho slid out of his side of the worn-down jeep in a way that reminded Chapel of a eel slicking out of a hole. He looked as worn down has his plumper partner with his gun slung sloppily over his left shoulder. "We need to get back to the compound or Aias will kill us."
"Like he won't anyway. The man's mad with power!"
"And you wouldn't be?" Otho asked impartially as he spat on the ground. "Don't be mad we're the runts of the litter. We've got our place, so don't anger our leader."
"Don't forget who protected you from those other savages!"
"I'll never forget," Otho said coldly, his eyes the color of flint. Chapel had had enough of their bickering. If they didn't get a move on, they would all perish in the sand storm that was nearly upon them. The wind had began to blow heavily from the east and the little valley and mountain range Chapel and Uhura had spent the night in was obscured by a moving wall of sand.
"Enough of this!" Chapel roared. Rocking up to gain momentum she jerked forward and came to her knees. "Will you two idiots look behind you and see there is a sand-storm less than an hour away from our position?! If we do not find shelter, you won't have to worry about your ‘leader’ cause the storm will take care of your sorry asses first! If you're going to take us back, fine, I surrender," At Chapel's submission, Uhura shot her an angry look that Chapel dismissed. "But if you want us to get back alive hurry the hell up and make your decision!"
"As you wish, lhhei. Otho!" Nerva sneered in her direction. "Carry the cripple to the jeep and make sure she's secure! I thought I hit her directly in the chest but it looks like Gaius’ serum is wearing off. I'll grab the dark one." Nerva made a move to grab Uhura, but she jerked back before his hand could grab her shoulder.
"Where in the hell are we going to go?" Uhura yelled over the howling wind "Look around you, there's nothing for miles!"
"Shut up!" Nerva screamed and used the back of his weapon to bash Uhura over her head forcefully. Rage engulfed Chapel as she raced to catch her unconscious partner, ignoring the burning in her muscles or the blinding pain in her head. She caught Uhura’s limp body before her head could touch the still-warm sand. Chapel could see she would need stitches from the bleeding wound on her forehead. But she was breathing, softly, and was alive. Chapel wouldn’t say the same for the man who smirked wickedly in front of her.
"You bastard," Chapel said, almost deliriously. She had the presence of mind to lay Uhura on the ground before rising slowly, her head swimming and her fists shaking. "You will regret laying a finger on her, you son-of-a-bitch!"
A gun pressed to the small of her back as Otho grabbed her blonde locks and pulled her head back, hard enough to bruise. "Now, now, I don‘t think you‘re in the best place to make any threats. Nerva's going to grab your friend there and I will escort you to that jeep," Otho paused, pointing his gun to the jeep nearly engulfed in darkness. "If you give us any trouble, I will shoot your friend dead and leave your gutted remains to the thraiin, do you understand?"
Chapel had no choice. She nodded as much as she could and allowed herself to be walked to the back of the jeep where she was shoved roughly into the seat. The Romulan named Nerva handed Uhura into Chapel‘s arms, her body as limp as a rag doll. The men had no fear of reprisal from Chapel while in the jeep, the doors were securely attached to the frame of the car and, as she looked around the interior of the back cabin, there wasn't a crack or hole to be found. How far could Chapel, should she decide to rebel, get in her injured state carrying an unconscious woman through a sand-storm? For better or worse, Chapel thought dejectedly, they were stuck with their captors.
*~*~*~*
Aias is not an imposing figure to his men. He is shorter than most of his men, coming under the height of most Romulan women. His slender figure, built for Romulan nobility, is unable to keep up with the demands of living in an unforgiving landscape. Most of his men mock him behind his back, calling out his heritage and his weakened stature. But they dare not insult him to his face. For as much as the other men hate Aias they fear his rage and the men loyal to his cause. Gaius, his second in command, understood the hate that generated against the man. Nero, before he and his senior mining crew disappeared chasing after the Vulcan who destroyed their lives, left Aias in charge of the apprentices left behind on Beta Ciel. He had treated Aias like a son and the Romulan miner had confided with him the pain of losing his loved ones and his desire for revenge. It had poisoned his friend, consumed him with the need to please the only father figure in his life. It shaped him into the man he became, the ruthless leader of a haggard crew of twenty who commands the room like a king on a throne. Here he stood, flanked by Gaius and his other loyal followers as he interrogated the men who had let the prisoners escape in the dank antechamber of a ancient storeroom.
"How could you let this happen?" Aias demanded. The five kneeling Romulans wore the same ragged tunic as the others but their clothes were stained with dried blood. All of the beaten men had lowered their heads down, afraid to look their aggressor in the eyes. "Were you asleep? Too full of food and drink to concentrate on your duties? Answer me!"
"Aias, it is not our fault," Whimpered one of the men. Kneeling at the end of the three man line, Gaius could see the quivering mass that made up the younger fool. His name was Koios and like his dimwitted partners, Nestor and Sarpedon, he had allowed the four humans and the Vulcan prisoners escape. His attempt to garner sympathy from Aias would be to no avail, their leader was a patient man who spent years coming up with the perfect plan to capture the lloann'mhrahel scum that murdered his mentor and master. He would not allow failure as an excuse.
"Quiet Koios," Gaius ordered from behind the steel table, which Aias occasionally used as a desk. The top of the table held the compound’s most important paperwork and a series of maps, diagrams, and communication codes. It would not do for the men to completely breakdown in front of Aias, as it would be a sign of disrespect.
"It is not our fault!" Koios cried out. His chest heaved raggedly from the sickness that had overtaken his lungs. Romulan miners were susceptible to a myriad of diseases; of which only a handful of them were deadly. Unfortunately for Koios, he had contracted one of the few exceptions. A sacrificial lamb in Aias's plans, Koios's declining health lured the unsuspecting officers of the Enterprise to the planet and the waiting arms of Aias and his men. Koios was also the fool who had let his captain and his officers escape from their final destination of their well-secured cells. Aias's anger would see to it that their suffering would last through the night.
"Silence!" Aias barked. He grabbed Koios's tunic, bunching the material of his shirt with his fist. This lifted the younger man to his feet. "You should be so lucky that you are still breathing, feanna."
Aias's eyes swept over the other four guards and with a quick nod dispatched his followers to grab the rest of the beaten men. Gaius remained behind the steel table, holding out the rolled edges of several maps that depicted the surface of Beta Ciel. The planet, as far as any of the men had explored, was nothing more than a desert wasteland dotted with small oasis. These oasis led to abandoned mines, left by an unknown civilization thousands of years ago. Gaius believed these tunnels, hubs, and underground stations were used as shelters from dangerous sand-storms. According to the maps Gaius held in his hand, the escapee had few escape routes available to them. If Vitus and Damon, the men responsible with the maintenance and observation of all the electrical equipment in their compound were correct, a fierce sand-storm was ravaging the mountain ranges to the west and southwest. Gaius discussed the options available with Aias and sent most of the remaining competent men to the north, leaving Otho and Nerva to capture the females escapees while Marius and Sergius went after the men. Gaius could only hope the men could catch the prisoners before they discovered the range the communication jammers had. Or Aias would have more than the escapees to worry about.
"Aias, have we heard from any of the men sent out before the storm?" Gaius asked.
"We have, Gaius," Andreus and Aurelius, Aias’s personal bodyguards, answered at the same time. The men in their grasp stood placidly by and offered no struggle. "They radioed in before the storm hit-- they got the women!"
"Your answer, sir," Aias sneered. He turned his attention back to the man still his grasp, upset his interrogation session was being interrupted. "Andreus! Aurelius! Can we radio them back?"
"Not until the storm is over, Aias."
"So unfortunate for you, Koios. Have we heard from Marius and Sergius?"
"Vitus and Damon haven't heard from them--" Andreus began.
"--Are you worried?" Aurelius finished. Aias shook his head as a response.
"Not now. I am confident there are men still under my command that can follow my instructions. Gaius!"
"Yes, Aias."
"Check with Marius and Sergius tomorrow. Make sure my men understand that they have two choices-- either they catch the prisoners or tell them there is no need to come back. I will not allow another mistake," Aias ordered, his voice low and dangerous. Gaius sighed a made a mental note to talk with Vitus in the morning as a precaution to Aias's rage. Wherever Marius and Sergius were Gaius hoped, for their safety, they had caught the prisoners.
"Anything else Aias?"
"Yes," Aias purred viciously as he met the eyes of his second in command. "Leave us. I have to teach these men a lesson."
"As you wish, Aias," Gaius said as he left the room, indifferent to the screams that followed him through the hallway.
*~*~*~*
"Good lord he's heavy," Captain Kirk complained as he shifted his shoulders to accommodate the weight of the Romulan on his shoulder. The brute weighed more than he could bench in the Starfleet training room. He made three steps before McCoy came to his aid, holding the man by the legs.
"Are you trying to pull your back?"
"Maybe," Kirk shrugged his free shoulder. "I could use the rest, and the lovely visitors."
"I bet," McCoy mumbled. "Speaking of biting off more than one can chew, have you seen--"
"Spock?" Replied the Vulcan from the tunnel from the right. He cupped his right wrist in his left hand, rubbing the muscle underneath. "I believe you were searching for me."
"Yeah, I was. Where the hell did you run off to?"
"I was, as Captain Kirk would say, 'taking care' of our Romulan captor. I assume you have incapacitated his partner?" Spock asked, his left eyebrow arched. Kirk turned back around to face the Vulcan, grinning ear to ear.
"Already quoting me Spock?"
"The use of your standard colloquiums, Captain, was the most efficient expression to use."
"Aww, you see McCoy? He's not so bad."
"Spock, you're smarter than him. Don't encourage the idiot."
"That means he loves us too, Spock," Kirk chirped. The men continued down the rocky path of the abandoned mine, away from the storm raging outside. The distant wailing of the storm wind was the only sound the men could hear as the explored the mine for any signs of a safe exit. Going by Kirk's intuition the men found shelter from the heat in the shimmering oasis after their daring escape. The leader of the Romulan apprentices had promised death and torture to all aboard the Enterprise as retribution against his fallen masters. Kirk could live with his fate, after all he was the one who put his life on the line for mysterious message. But the captain could not imagine, could not tolerate, the suffering of his crew at the hands of a madman, a Romulan at that. He feigned obedience as did the rest of his crew until they were separated and sent to their individual cells. Kirk may not have been an expert at hand-to-hand combat as well as Sulu but he knew how to throw down when his life depended on it. And he did, knocking his guard to the ground with a powerful kick to his stomach when he let his guard down. Catching on to the mayhem, Spock slid out of the grasp of his guard and knocked the man in his face with the back of his head. He swept the legs from under the man to bring him down. McCoy, Chapel, and Uhura finished off their handlers and met their fellow crewmembers at the front gate. The warning siren blared and the men who were aware of the breakout tried to incapacitate the escapees with blasts of gunfire from the towers of the compound. The decision was made to split up, making the crew as a whole harder to catch in the hope that one group would be able to reach the Enterprise before the others were caught. Back in the tunnel, Kirk cursed himself against the quick-fired decision to leave Chapel and Uhura to face the worst that this damned planet had to throw at them. He hoped that the ladies found out the secret of the oasis before the storm or their captors overtook them.
"Captain, we must hurry," Spock said, his voice echoing through the tunnel. "I fear the storm is increasing in power and magnitude, and we are in direct danger."
"Keep your shirt on Spock, I'm running as fast as I can!"
"Jim?"
"Yeah?"
"Remind me again why we're lugging this heavy bastard around?" McCoy asked, out of breath. His question made Kirk stop abruptly in the middle of the tunnel, forcing the other men to collide into each other. They eyed each other warily, then turned their attention to their leader.
"Good question." Kirk said, tossing the unconscious captor to the ground. He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his neck around, relieving his pain. "Thanks McCoy."
"According to the data chip I retrieved from the assailant, we should encounter the central hub the connecting tunnels in one point six kilometers."
"Bones?"
"Over a mile, Jim. Quit your whining."
"Just checking. Hey Spock?"
"Captain?"
"I've been thinking," Kirk paused, his demeanor serious. "If bozo number one had access to tunnel maps and schematics info--"
"--It is also logical to conclude that his partner might have access to information pertaining their colleagues. Would you like me to check, Captain?"
Kirk looked down to the man laying on the ground and made a face. "Yes, yes I would."
Pulling out a data pad, Spock bent over the fallen Romulan, searching through his pockets. Minutes later he located a small data chip and inserted into his pad, loading the information contained within. Spock searched through the files as Kirk and McCoy looked on, politely curious. A series of beeps alerted the Vulcan to the information he was searching for.
"I have located two Romulan miners away from their compound, yet close enough for us to investigate. Following the main tunnel through the central hub will give us the best strategic opportunity for engagement."
"How far away are they and how long will it take for us to get there?" Kirk asked, his hands on his hips.
"Approximately three point three kilometers. It would take us less than an hour to reach Lieutenant Uhura and Lieutenant Chapel, if they have been captured."
"We'll hope for the best. The sooner we find Chapel and Uhura the sooner we can get of this god-forsaken planet."
"Couldn't have said it better," McCoy replied merrily. The less time he spent slumming through dank tunnels being chased by crazy Romulan gunners the better he would feel. "Let's go gentlemen, we've got officers to save."
*~*~*~*
Her head screamed in pain. She flitted through moments of consciousness, her mind a constant state of turmoil. The last thing that Lieutenant Uhura could remember, before she awoke, was the tail end of the futuristic Romulan rifle coming down on her head and Christine Chapel holding her in her arms. Awake, her injury to the head reminded her in a painfully throbbing way that she and her lover had been caught by their Romulan captors and were being held against their will. In what looked like an abandoned mining station below the ground. The room they were being kept in reminded Uhura of the subterranean testing grounds she trained in when she was a cadet, windowless dens the color of sculptor’s clay. It was furnished only the necessities-- a tiny metal cot shoved in the largest corner of the room with a thin mattress covered by a thread-bare blanket. There was a bucket in another corner, presumably to be used as a toilet, and nothing else. The heavy metal door was bolted tightly and had no signs of weaknesses as Uhura could attest to. It was the first item she had examined when she awakened. She had returned to the cot where lieutenant Chapel, Christine, had fallen asleep, no doubt exhausted from her ordeal. Covered in gritty sand and dust, the older woman looked more the part of a vagabond than a Starfleet officer. Her muscles still twitched occasionally while she slept, her body trying to recover from the strain she put herself through. The feeling of guilt washed over Uhura as she watched the other women breathe in and out evenly. Why had she thought splitting up from Kirk, Spock, and McCoy would be a good idea? As much as she loathed the thought of asking Kirk for help under normal circumstances, she should have listened to her instincts and stayed with her fellow offices, even if meant a greater chance for their captors to catch them. At the very least if they had traveled as a group they would have been caught together or, Uhura hoped, they might have had a chance to defeat them. None of that mattered now as she and Chapel were stuck, with no way of getting out. The shifting of the cot she was sitting on alerted Uhura of Chapel’s awakened state.
“Hey,” Uhura called softly. Chapel stirred at the sound of Uhura’s voice, her crystal-blue eyes opening a fraction of an inch as she focused on Uhura. Chapel offered the other woman a small smile as she moved over to accommodate her.
“Come here,” Chapel asked. Uhura slid down on the narrow bed next to Chapel as she snaked her left arm underneath Chapel‘s arm to rest it against her side. They laid silently on the bed, enjoying the feeling of being next to each other.
“Comfortable?”
“Oh yes.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like hell,” Uhura laughed, then winced when the pain rushed to the surface of her consciousness; laying down had made the pain almost tolerable. She cursed herself again for getting herself and Chapel into their mess. “You?”
“I’ve felt better,” Chapel said, clearing her throat while sitting up. Baring the weird sensation of her muscles twitching involuntarily she was relieved to feel no lingering pain in her body. “But I have no complaints.”
“I do. Besides the obvious removal of our phasers did they have to rip our communicators off our shirts?”
“Let’s hope that’s all they did,” Chapel laughed as Uhura shuddered.
“I’m sorry.”
“…What?” Chapel asked, confused.
“I said I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Uhura sighed and stared at the ceiling. “For bringing you here.”
“Uhura, I volunteered to join the mission.”
“You wouldn’t have left the ship if I hadn’t recommended you.”
“Please,” Chapel snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. We both know I wouldn’t have set one foot off the ship if McCoy didn’t ask Captain Kirk directly.”
“Still,” Uhura smiled. “I still feel responsible.”
Uhura wasn’t fooled by Chapel’s backward compliment to her superior officer and friend. In reality, they both knew that Chapel had accompanied McCoy on several of his medical excursions as part of Starfleet’s residency program. Uhura had pushed her friend to obtain her doctoral after her nasty divorce from her unscrupulous husband, presenting the extra work, study sessions, and thesis research Chapel would have to do as a completion challenge before Uhura finished the commander track in a bid to become captain of her own ship. Uhura made the decision to become a captain as a part of an effort to push herself away from the Vulcan who had broken her heart and move closer to the woman who had captured her interest. Looking back, Uhura couldn’t tell when the interest ended and the attraction began as the time Uhura spent in the company of Chapel became more and more frequent as the women became inseparable. Now, laying in the dank cell of Romulan miners, Uhura couldn’t fathom what she would have done if something had happened to Chapel. It was safe to say Nyota Uhura had never felt this way about any man she had been in a relationship with, and it scared her that the woman sitting next to her could bring out such emotions. There was another lapse into silence as Chapel regarded Uhura’s response.
“You shouldn‘t. You aren‘t. Don‘t, Uhura.”
“But--”
“Nyota!” Chapel shouted as an attempt to get Uhura’s attention. It worked, as the younger woman stared into her eyes with a thoughtful expression. “Why are you so upset?”
“Do you want to know something funny?”
“No, I want you to answer my question.”
“I’m going to,“ Uhura waved a flippant hand in the air. “But first, let me ask you a question.”
Chapel eyed Uhura warily before responding. “Do I have a choice?”
“No,” Uhura smiled sweetly.
“Fine. Go ahead.”
“Did you realize that this is the first time you called me by my first name?”
“I did,” Chapel said. “I needed your attention since you kept yammerin’ on about nothing. You did the same thing earlier today.”
“So I did,” Uhura murmured.
“I know you’re kind of weird about the first name thing.”
“Weird?”
“Well its not exactly weird, but you believe that others should earn your respect before having the privilege of addressing you by your first name. I respect that.”
“You do?” Uhura asked uncertainly.
“Yes. I want to earn the right…. I want you to feel comfortable in letting me….”
“I don’t think I have to tell you that after today you have more than earned my respect.”
“Wonderful,” Chapel beamed.
“That’s why I’m acting out of sorts, I guess. If something would have happened to you--”
“--Like being knocked of a seven foot tall half-camel half-horse?’
“If something,” Uhura continued. “Had happened to you that could have permanently injured or killed you… I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Oh.”
“Right.”
“I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?”
“I didn’t know you were this serious.”
“Aren’t you?” Uhura asked. The fear of being rejected sunk its way into her stomach like a lead weight. Upset, Uhura climbed off of the small cot and walked over near the door, facing away from the bed. Chapel, with some trouble, soon joined her lover at her side.
“Uhura. Nyota. I didn’t mean to upset you--”
“--Wait--”
“--And I know we’ve been getting closer in the past year--”
“--No really, Christine, listen--”
“--We’ve been dating for a couple of months and it’s been wonderful and everything that I’d imagined it to be--”
“--Someone’s coming!” Uhura whispered harshly. She covered Chapel’s mouth with her hands to give her a chance to hear the sounds of heavy footsteps and loud grumbling. Eyes wide, Chapel removed Uhura’s hand to whisper in her ear.
“What do we do?” Chapel whispered back. The sensation of Chapel’s breath on Uhura’s ear would be very, very pleasing in another context. She would have to remember to tell Chapel that when they had a moment in private.
“I don’t know.”
“Is there anything we can use as a weapon?”
“Look around us! Everything is either bolted down or heavy as hell,” Uhura gestured to the sparse room.
“Ok. We need to think.”
“Think? They’re almost here!”
“I can hear that! Wait…” Chapel paused. She dug around her person like a wild woman, searching for something. She produced a tiny plastic box from a pouch around her neck.
“What? What are you looking for?”
“This…”
“What are they?” Uhura asked, eyeing the tiny brown pellets rolling around in Chapel’s palm.
“Remember when I had to do research on alternative homeopathic medicinal herbs for crew members with non-common humanoid ancestry?”
“Yes, you mentioned it a couple of months ago.”
“Remember why I stopped my research?’
“You called it ‘an utter waste of Federation time and money’ if I remember correctly.”
“I didn’t exactly say that.”
“Close enough!”
“Ok, ok. Well I wanted to synthesize an all-natural general antidote for anyone who wanted an alternative.”
“How is this going to help us? Are we going to heal those idiots?”
“No! That’s the best part,” Chapel said as she smiled. “I could never figure out the right combination that would allow non-humanoids and humanoids to receive the right amount of medicine in a safe dosage.”
Uhura’s face lit up as she figured out what Chapel was going to. “Will it kill them?”
“I don’t think so. Hopefully it will do enough damage to knock them out.”
“How will we get them to eat it?” Uhura asked apprehensively as the sound of stomping boots echoed through the door.
“Didn’t think that far.”
“But--!”
“We’ll figure it out! Are you ready?” Chapel asked as she tossed one of the pellets into Uhura’s cupped hands.
“Ready,” Uhura replied firmly, her eyes on the unlocking door.
*~*~*~*
“Where are we Spock?”
“Less than a kilometer from the source of the signal, Captain.”
“Let’s move it!”
“Captain, the expression you used--”
“Not now Spock!”
“Make the right up ahead, Jim!”
“Gotcha!”
“Where is everyone?”
“There are signs of activity in here, Lieutenant McCoy.”
“What the… hell? Are they dead? Jim, go kick the bastards.”
“Captain, allow me.”
“Are you going to kick them Spock?”
“No, captain.”
“Then no.”
“Jim.”
“Alright. Spoil sport. Permission granted, Spock.”
“They appear to be appear to be unconscious and breathing steadily, doctor. The vomiting suggests these captors have ingested an organic stimulator made from an herbal supplement not common to this part of the alpha quadrant.”
“Are you saying they ingested a oral enema, Spock?”
“That would be correct, captain, if you must frame my response in such a… unpleasing metaphor.”
“Disgusting. Alright people, are their any signs of the ladies?”
“Nothing recent.”
“Damn. Wait. What was that noise?”
“I’ll check it out.”
“Be careful, Bones.”
“I’ve got more luck than you. I think I should be good.”
“Bastard. Spock?”
“Captain?”
“We should follow him, shouldn’t we?”
“I would think that would be the most logical choice, sir.”
“Thought so. Let’s go.”
“Bones! Nyota! Christine!”
“Lieutenant McCoy! Lieutenant Uhura! Lieutenant Chapel!”
“What the hell are you yelling on about? I’m right her--”
“McCoy watch out!”
*~*~*~*
White monitors beeped steadily as the machines monitored the injured and the sick. Medical bay staff kept an eye on everyone as the Chief Medical officer and Head nurse were still listed as unavailable. McCoy sat on the medical table in his office, holding a cold compress to the swelled bruise on his right temple. To his left, Christine Chapel finished sealing the top of the wound that she had made when she used the Romulan plasma rifle as a club against McCoy’s skull. She had feared McCoy was another Romulan miner alerted to his fallen comrades’ status and used the fallen weapon to fend off her perceived attacker. Luck was on McCoy’s side that Chapel and Uhura decided to stun, rather than shoot, anyone who dared cross their path. McCoy sat in a stewing anger as Chapel closed his wound with a surgical laser, trying to keep her laughter from bubbling out.
“This is not funny, Chapel.”
“I know, sir.”
“I can hear you, you know. “
“And I am so sorry about that McCoy,” Chapel apologized with a smirk, for the hundredth time. Once, the Enterprise had felt less like a home and more of a stop-over to the life she had left behind on Earth. As she stood, patching McCoy’s cut, Chapel felt secure that her place was among the stars, healing the cadets and officers of Starfleet‘s finest. “Now hold still, you’re almost finished.”
“That damn laser burns like hell.”
“If you would hold still you wouldn’t feel a thing, you big baby.”
“I am not,” McCoy grumbled. Satisfied with her work, Chapel laid the laser on the little tray that hovered at elbow-level to her right. She applied a bandage to the cleaned wound, applying pressure all around the edges of the bandage to keep it firmly in place. When she was finished, McCoy stood carefully with his hands bracing the table for support.
“Thanks.”
“It’s my duty,” Chapel said as she snapped off her protective gloves.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thank you.”
“Good. You know, you should go talk to her.”
“Who?” Chapel feigned ignorance. She knew this argument was coming despite Chapel’s effort to avoid McCoy’s probing at any cost. Her friend had been her most encouraging supporter of her re-joining the dating scene, even if it meant he had to hit Chapel over the head with obvious hints and caring advice on the verge of being overbearing. He was the first person that knew she and Uhura were dating, being the driving force in pushing Chapel to take the chance and kiss Uhura. In Chapel’s opinion it had been his best piece of advice to date.
“You know damn well who I meant.”
“I know,” Chapel sighed, smiling. “I did. We talked last night.”
“Just talked?”
“That’s none of your business, McCoy.”
“Can’t blame a guy for asking,” McCoy laughed. “So does that mean…”
“…We’re dating officially? Yes.”
“About time.”
“Funny. We’re finished?”
“Fill out your paperwork yet?”
Chapel raised her data pad in the air. “All done. Now if you will excuse me, I have another date to get to.”
“Go, on get outta here,” McCoy ordered gruffly as Chapel waved goodbye and left his office.
The End.