Actually, since that part is now done, I'll just post it now and post the rest of the story (as in, it's finished) tomorrow.
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Chapter Nine
Huk reached for her. Leral waved her away. She’d managed to stop screaming. The voice in her skull still boomed like artillery fire.
I don’t know what you want! She thought. The voice boomed again.
Her mind raced. What’d she done to bring on the voice? Why had it reacted?
She’d tried to stop the thing. She’d told it to stop. There was something demanding when the voice spoke.
It wants a password! She realized.
The voice spoke again. It was the same question, but quieter.
Cancel command, She thought. I don’t want you to stop right now.
She waited. The voice didn’t speak again.
“The system…the navigation system needs a password…” She explained. She realized she was laying on the floor on front of the console. She struggled to her feet. Standing felt ridiculously slow with the link active.
Huk was helping her. “Try engineering systems? Maybe you can reduce power.”
Leral nodded, thought of doing that. Again the words in front of her eyes, listing another menu.
Reduce power. She requested. She heard the voice again, hastily cancelled the command.
“That’s protected too. I can’t understand the language it’s speaking in.”
“Part of the translation software is probably infected.” Said Huk. Leral sighed. She had the glimmer of an idea.
I can’t understand what you’re saying. This is an emergency.
The sop’nagh was silent.
Emergency. Can’t understand.
She suddenly felt…helpless. Incapable. She needed to do something. She needed to help, but didn’t know how. No one would tell her how. She didn’t now. Why wouldn’t anyone tell her? She wanted to…
She tried to force the feelings away. Klingons could not cry. Instead she howled, slamming a fist onto the console. Her howl tapered off into a snarl when she realized just how odd, how childlike the feelings were.
Despite the flood of defeat, she smiled.
We need help. We came to look at you. We fixed things. That wasn’t a lie. She didn’t dare lie to something that was hooked up to her brain. We don’t have the word. We didn’t think we’d need it.
Helplessness was replaced with suspicion. She had ideas that people were coming to steal her food, to make her unable to eat.
No. She thought. We fixed you. At first we couldn’t talk to you. Now we can. There was something wrong with your brain.
Her emotions settled. They were all her own, now. The sop’nagh’s presence tickled her mind, as if, perhaps, it were considering something.
An image of the Hiv’laposh flashed through her head.
Yes. We came from there. They’re following so we can go back.
More suspicion. Images of other ships, some Klingon, many not, firing. Memories of damage taken, slowly repaired. She noted that, unlike most of its kind, this sop’nagh had usually fled its attackers. One Romulan frigate had cornered it in a dense asteroid field, though, where it could not run. The result was unfortunate for the Romulans.
Leral chuckled. She’d have to tell the First about that.
We haven’t attacked you. We’re not going to attack you. She hoped she was right. The Commander would be planning some way of slowing the sop’nagh down. It’d likely involve disruptor fire.
Doubt crept in.
Why would we fix you, then attack you?
Another moment of consideration. Guarded belief tickled her brain, helplessness returned.
Slow down, open the hatchways, let us leave. She requested. We’ll need…fifteen minutes.
A firm figure planted itself in her mind. Around her, the rumble of the stone eater’s workings reduced in volume. Huk and Meran were looking around. Some kind of alarm was ringing.
“Helmets!” She yelled, yanking the interface off her head. She pulled her own helmet on, sealed it, made sure of the air supply. She gave K’tal a fearful look. Rinbar had sealed the Ensign's before tending to his own. She nodded.
“Help me with him.” She pulled the unconscious Marine up, slid her shoulder up under her armpit. Rinbar, case of explosives and all, siezed his other arm. The air was thinning fast. She hoped that meant the doors would open soon.
“It’ll go back to warp in five minutes.” She informed as her team went toward the exit. “It doesn’t trust us.”
* * *
The five Klingons lumbered up the maintenance tunnel, gear rattling, their helmets fogging as they struggled to move quickly despite their magnetic footwear. Huk and Meran were trying not to draw ahead.
“Go on.” Leral ordered.
The two scientists looked at her dubiously.
“Did I say please? Get clear, call the ship.” She barked. Her two subordinates turned reluctantly and broke into a lumbering run.
“Should have left the explosives.” Rinbar muttered. They marched forward, lugging K’tal between him. He was weightless, but bulky.
“Should have had Meran give him a stimulant.” The Lieutenant countered. Their boots clomped heavily against the deck. K’tal moaned.
Up ahead, Huk and Meran entered the airlock. Leral estimated the distance, the speed that she and Rinbar were moving. According her the readout on her helmet visor, they had two minutes..
She decided that, when a minute remained, she’d send Rinbar ahead without her.
Another thirty seconds of effort had them at the exit. She gazed at the hatch. Huk and Meran had obeyed orders; they weren’t waiting for her.
“Go first, I’ll shove him up towards you.” She instructed Rinbar. The demo man nodded and released K’tal. Despite his early statement, he didn’t shrug off his case of explosives. He squirmed out the hatch.
Leral pushed K’tal toward the opening. Rinbar siezed the Marine’s arms. Wrestling him out of the hatch took longer than she liked. They had forty-five seconds left.
She clambered up out of the hatch. Rinbar was waiting, holding K’tal. She siezed the Marine again.
“Ready?” She asked. Rinbar nodded. “Now.”
They shoved the Marine away. His semi-conscious form spun upward, away from the sop’nagh. Leral deactivated her boots, crouched carefully, and leapt.
She hadn’t had time to notice the ill effects that zero gravity aroused in her during the run up the tunnel. The perception returned as she flew up from the stone eater, her stomach doing it’s best to turn inside out. She managed not to vomit, but her head swum. She wasn’t spinning, so far as she could tell, but it felt as if she were.
She told herself to focus. She checked to see if Rinbar was with her. He was, floating away from her. Apparently his jump had been more forceful. Huk’s voice droned in her ears, calling to the Hiv’laposh. Below her, the dull grey shape of the stone eater sat quietly. The time limit expired, yet the sop’nagh remained.
For the sake of curiousity, Leral measured the time until the giant went to warp. Six minutes passed, then seven. Finally, there was a blur of motion, and the stone eater was gone.
Leral smiled.