Star Trek: Erin

Part 40: Power

     We'd turned a corner. Nestled between hallways was a transparent, human-sized container with a hefty base that just screamed, 'full of complicated wiring!' Reminded me painfully of the Biflora III bulbs.

     Glasgow glanced at me, then opened his communicator. "Patras, are we at one of the sources?"

     "Immediately in front of you, sir," came the response. Her voice was cool.

     "Excellent. Michael, you're up."

     Power was diverted without a problem. Marple asked a question. We needed five chambers within half an hour of the previous. After that their power would be restored to their proper circuit. At least we won't leave traces. We reached the next chamber, Michael did her thing, and we moved off again. "These things should really be guarded," I said.

     Michael shrugged. "You'd think."

     Third chamber. Again, it was fine. After three going so well, I was expecting something to go wrong at the fourth. Things were far too quiet around us.

     "Officers have been talking, but I had to see this for myself. This is low, Michael."

     Sometimes I hated when I was right.

     Sprite? I turned around. A few paces away was Sprite, but he had... Bloody hell, what are those? Sideburns? Ah, he's the other one. I scrunched my face at Nowak. "What is with this dimension and hideous facial hair?"

     Alternate-Sprite jerked as he noticed me. "What are you doing here, Cobos?"

     I spread my hands, delighted for the chance. "I have legs, idiot."

     "No, you shouldn't be alive." Sprite drew his phaser and aimed it at my heart. "I killed you."

     My mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "What?"

     Sprite's hand tightened around the trigger.

     Which was when Glasgow punched him into the wall. Sprite struggled to rise, his eyes pinned on me. Glasgow just raised an eyebrow and stunned him. Twice. He turned to me. "We don't have time for personal matters, Cobos."

     "Personal?" I spluttered. He just tried to fucking kill me! Again, apparently!

     "Exactly. Your affairs don't take priority right now. We are on a schedule."

     Why would he kill me? They kill to advance, but he's a commander, isn't he? Killing Kirk would advance him, but he went after me. So why? I forced myself to breathe more slowly. Focus, Cobos.

     Glasgow was staring at me incredulously. "Are you done?" he said.

     "Will you shut up and let me work?"

     I startled at Michael's cold tone. She hurriedly held up her hands. "Sorry, sorry. I just don't see how it's necessary."

     "Not a problem," Glasgow said smoothly, although even he seemed slightly taken aback.

     Michael got back to work.

     I looked at the others. Nowak seemed lost in thought, Glasgow seemed to be listening to someone, and Marple was... Marple. Maybe it would be interesting to hear thoughts. It would certainly help pinpoint who's mutinous. I scowled. Glasgow's talents could've been used much better if he was with Starfleet.

     Do I really believe that? Would Starfleet have let him use his abilities to their greatest potential? Vulcans are faster and stronger and smarter, but are they given the opportunities to use it? They don't always let themselves, but still.

     Maybe that compromise is how we coexist.

     I realized I wasn't as alert as I should be in hostile territory and walked the perimeter. It's because we've survived here before. But this time... something is different. Besides I'm apparently dead now too. Maybe that's why only Michael got the uniform. Last of us who's alive. And all this must mean the landing party is here. If Kirk's trying to blend in, he'll be on the bridge, which is the last place a party of ghosts would be welcome.

     So we're on our own.

     When am I not?

     I glanced at Nowak. Less now. He caught me looking, and his lips started to quirk up.

     He froze.

     At the same time, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sprite wasn't lying against the wall anymore.

     I half-turned and Alternate-Sprite stepped in front of me. I saw Nowak over Alternate-Sprite's shoulder. He yelled something. It took a moment to register, but I heard it. "KNIFE!"

     Which was funny, because I recognized that word in this place, and the look in Sprite's eyes. I flinched away, but his hand grabbed my shoulder faster than he should've been and pulled me close. Ice buried itself in my gut. "How many times do I have to kill you for it to mean something?" he hissed in my ear.

     I wanted to say something badass. But all I could let out a little gasp, and watch as Sprite stepped back, unsheathing the knife from my stomach. He smiled.

     Behind him, Nowak had crossed the distance. He looked like the reaper at the ignorant Sprite's shoulder. Instinctual fear closed my throat. In Nowak's eyes, there was only darkness.