Not A goodbye

Chapter 2

THE RIO GRANDE SCREACHED as Fujita fired up the impulse engines way further than they were designed to. She did not care about breaking a ship, she had a job to do. The Vreoi ship quickly came in vision range as the runabout grew closer.

When Fujita had left from Deep Space 9, she had had about five more minutes before the Vreoi vessel would blow. By that time, eighteen hundred and fifty of the two thousand of the Vreoi crew would already be on DS9. One hundred and fifty passengers would be left onboard the vessel. They would never all fit on the small runabout, Fujita knew that, but right now she had to concentrate on other matters.

When Fujita got close enough to the vessel, she tried to dock the Roi Grande. She had not anticipated that the Vreoi vessel would have caught fire, which made the process fairly more difficult. After a few attempts, however, it worked. Fujita turned off the strained engines and stood up out of the chair. She glanced over at Deep Space 9 – which she could just see through the viewscreen – wondering if she would ever see it from inside again. If so, she had to hurry. So, she quickly strode to the runabout's doors and slid them open.

Fujita could barely contain the urge to cough as a rush of hot air came over her. Her eyes flung up through the open runabout doors, and caught the sight of hungry flames of fire licking the silvery, metal doors of the Vreoi ship. The gravity of the situation rushed over her once again, as she realized that if she already had trouble breathing in the hot and toxic air, the Vreoi passengers would really be in trouble. Bravely, she strode forward, keeping her eyes on the ground.

After a few seconds, desperate voices became audible through the battered hallways. Panicked murmurs and scared calls reached Fujita. The Admiral knew that she had to hurry, and her pace gradually turned into a sprint. She pushed her combadge, hoping that anyone of the passengers would know how to operate a communicator.

'Fujita Diru to the Vreoi crew.'

It stayed silent for a moment, but eventually a voice sounded through the Admiral's combadge. 'Help us... please.'

Fujita felt a rush of anxious adrenaline come over her, and ran even quicker toward where she thought the voices were coming from. The realization that she could never save everyone hit her again. Oh, how glad she was that she had managed to keep Kira from taking the mission, and from the dreadful task of deciding who would die and who would live.

'I'm getting you out of here', Fujita called into her combadge, making sure that there was no hint of emotion in her voice. At that exact moment, Fujita made a turn to the left and stood in front of a gigantic door. It opened automatically, despite the ship's wrecked systems.

The scene behind the doors shocked Fujita. These people were more dead than alive. Many of them were unconscious, undoubtably due to the toxic gasses that were making even Fujita dizzy. The ones who had not lost consciousness, lay slumped on the ground, many lying half on top of each other. The Vreoi back on Deep Space 9 had been sluggish and poor-looking, but these looked far worse. No one of them wore clothes that were even worthy of the name "clothes''. They wore bags and rags made of cloth that had clearly never been meant for humanoid purposes. It seemed none of the passengers had showered in weeks, or had even had a good meal for days. It was clear that the higher classes of Vreoi had been transported off the vessel first.

The room itself did not look much better. Metal walls were scratched and stained, in some places even broken. Junk lay around everywhere. Chunks of metal, trash, dirt. Fujita even saw puddles on the floor, and if she could trust the stench that hung the room, it had to be piss.

Fujita took a deep breath and stuck her chin in the air. Time to bring these people hope, even if it's false.

'People', she began uncertainly, but without a hint of hesitation in her voice noticeable to the Vreoi. 'I have a ship docked on your vessel. In a few minutes, all of you will be out of here. However, I cannot take all of you in one run. I ask you to, please, divide in three equal groups of fifty people. All of you will be either token off here with my runabout, or you will be transported to our space station nearby.'