The doors to the operating suite slid open with a strained groan, and Mahok stepped inside, His polished shoes clicking against the blood-slick floor. He was a man used to the fact that everything could be broken down into cost and profit. There was neither anger, nor disgust in his expression. If anything, he seemed utterly detached from the destruction around him. 

The room reeked of copper and ozone. A stretcher bore the broken body of a collapsed physician, still twitching faintly every now and then. Around the body, guards and technicians frantically tried to restore order to the chaos. The faint buzzing damaged console and equipment was, every now and then, interrupted by a groan from one of the injured, or an order given by a one of his officers. 

Mahok’s eyes took in the damage with an accountant’s precision. The shattered instruments. The bloodied floor. The disassembled equipment. 

Each broken hypospray, each twisted restraint, each dented table. 

One of the guards approached, blood streaking his uniform.  “Sir, the prisoner… he -”

“Spare me,” Mahok cut him off, his voice icy and low. “I’m not here for excuses. I’m here to count the losses.” 

He stepped around the guard without a glance and knelt beside a shattered diagnostic console, running his fingers over the jagged edge of the casing. “Each of these devices is worth more than your life, and you allowed a single drone and a disgruntled doctor to render them useless.”

The guard swallowed hard but said nothing. Mahok straightened and turned his gaze to the table where the ex-Borg lay, now silent and still  and under heavy sedation. “What of the merchandise?” 

“Damaged, sir,” a technician piped up nervously. “The neural interfaces are compromised. Potential buyers might still be interested…”

Mahok clasped his hands behind his back and glanced around the room one last time. “Do your jobs, salvage what you can, and clean up this mess.”

Without another word, he turned. 

He had nearly reached the doors when one of his officers intercepted him. “Sir,” the man said, clutching his PADD like a shield. “We’ve detected a Starfleet vessel on approach. They’ll be within range in less than an hour.”

Mahok froze mid-step, his lips curling in disdain. “Starfleet,” he repeated, his voice smooth and contemplative. “And they’re responding to the broadcast, no doubt.” 

“It appears so.”, the guard nodded.

Mahok gaze landed on Arys, still slumped against the wall, her breath shallow but steady. 

He considered her for a long moment, weighing options, running probabilities in his mind. Finally, he turned to the Doctor, a thin man who had taken to hovering near the corner. 

“Doctor Krenn. See if she can be stabilized. I’ll need her alive. Alive enough, anyway.”

The doctor blinked in surprise but quickly nodded, stepping forward “Yes, sir.”

“Do it quickly and quietly. This is an asset I’m not finished with yet.”

With that, he strode out of the room, his mind already pivoting to the next move in his strategy. 

Half an hour later, he stood in the shuttle bay, addressing the gathered crowd, his personal shuttle, sleek and prepared for departure, behind him. A handful of guards and advisors stood ready to board, chosen for their loyalty and usefulness. The extracted merchandise had already been brought on board. The rest of the crew, those assets that were necessary to sacrifice, watched him.

“There is not enough space for all of you,” he said plainly, his hands clasped behind his back. “You knew the risks when you signed on, and I am not in the business of charity. But I am not unreasonable.”

His eyes scanned the faces in front of him, the panicked expressions, the fear, the doubt. It made him smile. Then, his gaze settled on the officers closest to the chain of command. “There’s a way out for you. Starfleet will arrive soon, and when they do, you’ll need someone to blame. A scapegoat.”

He allowed the words to settle before continuing. “Fortunately for you, we already have one.” 

There was a murmur in the crowd. Many of them knew that the woman who had started the chaos hadn’t been executed or left to die, but stabilised and brought to the Captain’s quarters. Mahok’s tone was laced with cruel irony as he continued. “She was your captain, wasn’t she? The one who orchestrated this entire operation, coerced you all into compliance.”

The crew exchanged uneasy glances, and not sure what to do with that information. 

“I advise you to sell the lie convincingly,” Mahok added  “Claim you were innocent pawns, forced to follow orders under threat of death. Starfleet loves a good redemption arc.” 

And then, without another word or another glance, he turned and boarded the shuttle, his chosen entourage filing in behind him. The hatch sealed with a hiss, and moments later, they were on their way towards the nearest nebula, where Starfleet was unlikely to track them.