Post Star Trek 2009 movie. Multi-chapter installment.
Khaiel Tovan watched from a small shuttle along with a handful of other Romulan survivors as their last hope was decimated. Silence permeated the small craft, other than the loud breathing of the occupants as they watched their only hope for a return back home.
Not home, he corrected himself. Our time. There was not much of a home left for them there. But now his path was clearly laid out before him.
He had greatly admired Nero. They had felt the same pain as they watched their home world destroyed from aboard the Narada, and the same desire for revenge as they had destroyed Vulcan in this time line. He gritted his teeth savagely, as together the small band watched as the USS Enterprise escaped from the gravitational anomaly, to disappear into warp. No one said a word. Nothing needed to be said.
Tovan had rounded up those most loyal to him long before the Enterprise had shown up. He knew once the Vulcan had escaped with the red matter, there was no hope. Some might call it cowardice. He called it a chance to exact a more appropriate revenge.
The Romulan grinned savagely, plans already formulating in his mind. He’d start with the one that called himself Kirk.
Three Months Later.
Captain James Tiberius Kirk, Jim to his friends, sauntered confidently onto the bridge of the USS Enterprise. They were not scheduled to depart for another few hours, but Sulu and Chekov were already aboard, making preparations. They quickly rose to their feet and stood at attention when he entered. The young captain groaned, dramatically rolling his head back.
“I told you guys, you don’t have to do that. We’re not even off shore leave yet.”
“Yes sir,” they both replied, sitting back down. He smiled to himself, knowing things probably wouldn’t change. He slumped in the captain’s chair, munching on an apple as he watched the two continue their work. He realized dully that there was someone else missing. His bright blue eyes whipped around the bridge, already knowing he wouldn’t find who he was looking for.
“Where’s Spock?” he asked them. Usually the half-Vulcan would be preparing the ship right along with the rest of the eager young crew. Sulu swiveled around in his chair to face the captain. “He was here earlier, but I think he’s taking some…ah…personal time…Sir.” The helmsman finished uncertainly. Kirk grinned.
“No need to be evasive Sulu, if the rest of the ship doesn’t know him and Uhura are together by now, then they’re not as sharp as I’d hoped.” Sulu smiled at that, turning back around. While not exactly open about their relationship, the couple sure as hell hadn’t been subtle, either. He wasn’t concerned though. He knew the first officer would be back with time to spare well before the ship left. Kirk popped up again, finishing his apple as he did so. He looked for a place to throw it. “Where’s the damn trashcan in this place?”
Chekov pointed over towards the door without looking up from what he was doing. “Over der, Keptin.” Kirk then remembered he had asked that question about three times in the past week alone.
“Oh…right. Carry on!” He got up, walking briskly over towards the doors to the bridge. As they opened with a gratifying whoosh, he threw the core down the disposal shoot next to them.
He began to make his way down to the medical bay to visit his friend, Leonard “Bones” McCoy. The doors opened before him, and he stepped into the darkened medical bay. A soft snoring was emanating from across the empty room. “Lights,” he said, followed by a soft glow in the infirmary. The chief medical officer was snoring away on a bed, his clothes in disarray. Kirk, smiling, stalked over to him. “Gee, Bones, just cause you’re Chief Medical Officer doesn’t mean you have to live in here,” he said loudly. He was rewarded when the snoring hitched as McCoy awoke with a start, blinking rapidly and looking around before his eyes finally rested on Kirk’s. His look of confusion quickly changed to a grimace as his eyes settled on the calm ones of his commanding officer.
“I don’t live here, Jim,” he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes tiredly. “They were doing some maintenance when I came in, and needed access to some goddamn vents through my quarters. This was the only other quiet place on the blasted ship.” He blinked rapidly, and his eyes settled on Kirk’s again as he seemed to organize his thoughts. “What were you doing looking for me in here, anyway? I’m a little insulted, Jim.”
Kirk rocked back and forth on his heels. “Mm, just a hunch.” In reality, Kirk had asked the maintenance crew to specifically check the vents they needed access to through McCoy’s quarters, to pay him back for all those shots he insisted on injecting him with on a regular basis. Poor design on the Enterprises’ engineers’ part, but fortunate for him whenever he wanted to kick McCoy out of his quarters.
McCoy seemed to take his silence as a clue. “I know you had something to do with it,” he growled. Before either man could take action though, the lights flickered quickly. They both looked uselessly at the ceiling, just in time to see the lights flicker again, but this time remained off with a soft shudder, plunging them into darkness. “Did you organize this too?” McCoy huffed.
“No, actually,” Kirk said, trying to feel for the wall in the darkness. He ran into an unoccupied bed, jamming his waste as he did so. “Ow! Goddamn it, this place could use some organization!” he huffed. He heard McCoy moving around now, in the opposite direction.
“The beds are nailed to floor, Captain,” he oozed out the last word sarcastically. Kirk emitted a defeated grunt. He finally reached the wall, feeling along side it for a communications panel. He hoped Bones didn’t leave used needles around. He could hear the doctor now shuffling around in some kind of box. Moments later, a beam of light shined on him, and he shot his hand up to his eyes. “The communications panel is over there,” he said, moving his flashlight as he correctly guessed Kirk’s intentions. The captain quickly let out a thanks, as he hurried over to it, now able to see.
He pressed down the button, and it emitted a small chirp. Well, at least communications were up. “Kirk to Bridge,” he said. As he awaited a reply, McCoy came up behind him.
“Weird that the auxiliary power’s not working,” he mumbled. Kirk pressed down the button again, repeating his request. There was still no reply. He turned back around to McCoy.
“Let’s go,” he said. The doctor nodded in reply, all joking between them done. They made their way quickly down the hallway, looking for the fastest way to the bridge.
----
As the lights flickered on the bridge, Chekov looked uncertainly at Sulu. “Probably just a power surge,” Sulu said. They were, after all, still docked. There wasn’t a lot of cause for concern. Usually maintenance was just fooling around with some of the minor systems. When the lights flickered again and stayed off, the control panels did as well, though the bridge was still slightly illuminated from the station’s lights outside.
“Vat is dis?” Chekov exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. Sulu didn’t have a chance to answer, for at that moment, the grating above Chekov tumbled open, and a dark mass fell on top of him, knocking him to the floor. Sulu scrambled up, reaching for his extendable sword and phaser, only to realize too late he had left them both in his quarters. The dark figure rose up from its crouch over Chekov’s prone form. Sulu spared him a quick glance just to make sure he was still breathing, which he was. Sulu gritted his teeth at the figure, preparing for the impending fight. He wasn’t nearly as skilled in hand to hand combat as he was with a sword, but he knew a few moves.
The figure was cloaked in heavy black cloth that clung tightly to his body, but covered his entire head except for his eyes, which were a menacing black. He was a lot bigger than Sulu too, and carried wicked looking daggers in both hands. “Where is Kirk?” he hissed.
“Go to hell,” Sulu growled back. The figure didn’t wait then, but lunged towards the officer. He swerved to the side out of the way of one of the daggers. The assassin turned his back on Sulu, attempting to use the momentum to swing his other dagger into him, but Sulu blocked the attack with his forearm to the attacker’s wrist. Sulu grabbed the wrist with his other hand, smashing it into the console, making the attacker drop the knife. He retaliated with a savage kick to his kneecap. The officer cried out, falling on the floor, but grabbing the discarded knife as he did so. He slashed at his attacker's shins, and was rewarded when the assassin grunted and green blood flowed through the cloth.
Romulan? Sulu thought to himself, but had no time to dwell on it as the attacker tried to drive the blade he still had into his scalp. He quickly rolled out of the way, his kneecap protesting at the contact with the hard surface. He got back up on his good leg, breathing harshly. The attacker lunged again at him, looking to drive the knife into his chest. He deflected it with his own, but the Romulan’s momentum threw him to the ground again. He got off a punch to his face, but it hardly seemed to do much other than to further agitate his attacker, who then slammed his head against the floor.
Dazed, Sulu barely registered the assassin's knife coming at him again, but got his hand up in time to grab the attacker’s wrist and twist savagely, the knife falling out of his grip. His answer was another vicious punch to the face, making him let go of his attacker’s wrist. The Romulan then grabbed two handfuls of Sulu’s shirt, lifting him up the wall. The officer’s head rolled, as he slammed him back on the console. “Where…is….Kirk?” he growled. Sulu just flashed a bloody smile at him. Enraged, the assassin howled as he hurled the prone man across the room into a glass cartography chart. It cracked as Sulu flew into it, and then slid to the floor, motionless.
The Romulan breathed heavily for a moment, and then walked slowly towards the unconscious man, who was breathing shallowly, scooping up a knife as he did so. He didn’t make it all the way before the door to the bridge whooshed open. Alarmed, the Romulan looked over to see none other than the Vulcan.
It only took a second for Spock to conclude what was happening. He drew his phaser shouting “Stop!” as he did so. But the assassin weaved in and out of his bolts, hopping from Chekov’s console back up into the duct he had entered the bridge at. Spock dropped his phaser, running to the injured Sulu.
Luckily, Kirk and McCoy chose that moment to show up. The cracked glass on the consoles and blood on the floor didn’t need a genius to guess what had happened. “Doctor!” Spock called out. McCoy then noticed the bloodied and unconscious Sulu on the floor. He rushed over, Kirk in tow. As McCoy began checking Sulu’s vitals, Kirk turned to his first officer.
“What happened?” he asked.
Spock shook his head gently. “I am not sure. When the lights went out, I decided it would be best to report to the bridge. I arrived in time to see a masked attacker trying to kill Sulu. I took some shots at him, but he escaped somewhere in the ship.” Kirk had been scanning the rest of the bridge as Spock was talking, and his eyes now fell on the young Chekov.
“Shit,” he said, hurrying over. He quickly fell down by Chekov’s head, checking his pulse and listening for his breathing. Both were strong, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He lightly tapped the young Russian’s face. “Hey…hey, Chekov…” meanwhile, Bones was yelling at Spock to call in a stretcher. Spock had to hail the medical team inside the station. Chekov began moaning as Kirk continued lightly slapping his face.
“Keptin?” he said groggily. “Vat…vat happened?”
Kirk sighed, looking over in the direction of McCoy and Sulu. McCoy had stabled his neck with an inflatable brace, and was now running a scanner over him to assess his other injuries. “I was hoping you could tell me.” He said quietly. He helped Chekov sit up, who upon seeing the bridge, gasped something in Russian. Mistaking his surprise for pain, Kirk focused his intense eyes back on the ensign. “Are you ok?”
Chekov nodded vigorously. “Yes, Keptin, someting knocked me out, but I am fine now.” He looked at Sulu, worry crossing his features. “Vill Hikaru, be ok?” Kirk sighed again, not answering his question right away. By then, the medical team had arrived, gently laying the prone officer onto a backboard as they then lifted him to a stretcher. They wheeled him out, McCoy following.
Kirk moved over to his chair, miraculously unharmed in the scuffle, and sat down heavily, resting his forehead on his hands. “Spock, inform command we have a breech, and need to seal off the ship and the branch of the station it’s docked at. Start organizing search teams, and get Scott up here. I want that bastard found.” His voice never raised higher than if he were chatting with someone right in front of him. Nonetheless, there was no doubt about his ruthless intent.
“Yes, Sir.” Spock began carrying out his orders.
Wooie! I'm mean to poor Sulu! But I loves me some whumps.
