Part of USS Callisto: The Last Harvest and Bravo Fleet: The Devil to Pay

Miscalculation

ISS Asklepios
December 2401
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Draxon was worried, even though he would never admit to, or show such weakness. It concerned him that Kovin, the man he had sent to make sure Arys didn’t talk, had not replied when Draxon had tried to check in with him.

On the one hand, it meant he couldn’t be sure that Kovin had completed his given task, and that alone could cause countless problems. He hadn’t admitted it to anyone, but even he could see that the agreed on lie didn’t quite stick. There were holes in the story, unanswered questions, and the one thing they couldn’t afford was Arys to tell her account of what happened. If she was only somewhat cohesive in what she said, it would certainly land them in a prison colony. 

They knew nothing about her other than when she had entered their ‘employment’. Even a full name or any sort of history beyond what her evident surgical skills implied eluded them, and letting her live was simply too risky. 

The other side of the coin was that he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that something had happened. Draxon knew of the disagreements amongst the remaining crew, and that Kira Halden was the reason for this. 

He hated that woman. Kovin, on the other side, was someone he knew well,  trusted, and even liked. He was, perhaps, not the most gifted doctor on board, but he didn’t make Draxon feel stupid or small. It couldn’t be called a friendship as such. But there was the potential for it. At least that was what he believed, and perhaps even hoped for. 

His steps echoed along the hallways as he hastily made his way to the Captain’s quarters. He expected the doors to open at his approach. To his unpleasant surprise, they did not.

“Kovin.”, he tried his comms again, then hammered against the closed doors, only to be answered with utter silence. 

Draxon growled in annoyance and frustration. He hit his palm against the control panel a few feet down the corridor, and input his security override, assuming the needed privileges had been transferred to him when the others left. Once more, he was disappointed. 

Had they simply forgotten, or did they still not trust him? 

He clenched his fist, slamming the control panel repeatedly, and until it began to crack. As if that would change the outcome. 

 

“Kovin! Answer me!” He tried again. He tried to keep the worry from creeping into his tone, but even to himself, he sounded desperate. Draxon resolved himself to silently pray to whatever power was out there that, through some miracle, he would receive a response. But none came. 


 

Kira Halden, meanwhile, was wandering the corridors in search of Draxon. For the benefit of the others – Rynn, Tarrik and Erek – she had justified her desire to get rid of him as a necessity, and declared him a risk to the credibility of their lie.
But, in truth, she had long waited for an opportunity to get rid of him, and almost succeeded several times before by making him look as stupid as he actually was. 

Whatever grand plans he might have had, she had made sure to cross them. Whatever little power he might have attained, she had denied him. Halden smiled to herself as she wondered if he had already noticed that he no longer held access to any higher security protocols. 

An unsettling quiet lay over the ship, as if the crew wasn’t scrambling to put their stories into place, and she didn’t come across a single soul. 

Then, as she rounded a corner, she almost stumbled over the body of a young man laying face down on the floor. Blood pooled beneath his crumpled frame, seeping from injuries she didn’t know the cause of. 

Halden knelt down to turn the body around, searching the face for familiarity. It wasn’t someone she worked with on a regular basis, and none of her allies. She frowned, not able to remember anything about the young man other than that their pilot had been overly fond of.

What a shame.  Hopefully Erek didn’t find out, he was already the weakest, and probably most emotional, member of the group. 

At least this wasn’t a total waste, she thought, and pried the man’s weapon from his cold fingers. He wouldn’t be needing that any more. 


 

Draxon had always been someone to rely on himself, but now at his wits end, he found himself hoping for the aid of some divine being that would magically fix everything. The Bajorans had their Prophets, he knew, and he wished his people had something similar. 

After what seemed like hours of hoping for a response, he resolved himself to the fact that something had happened. 

And his thoughts immediately drifted to Kira Halden, the instigator between what he would call a mutiny. 

Draxon slammed his fist into the wall, and his knuckles split open at the impact. He barely felt it, he was too occupied with being angry. Why couldn’t the woman follow his lead, just this once? He understood that she wasn’t fond of him, and he didn’t fault her for it, but now was not the time to indulge ill feelings about the past. 

It wasn’t like he had been the one to decide to attack her freighter, and to dispose of the crew. He had even advocated for keeping them around – they all had the potential to be useful – but unfortunately, hadn’t been the one making the final decision. 

What had saved Halden was their need for a new senior engineer, and truthfully, he believed sparing her was an excellent choice. She was intelligent and reasonable – most of the time – and had always considered her the perfect match to his physical strength and tactical experience. They could have been great as a team if Halden hadn’t decided that they were enemies. 

He would find her, and finally confront her. Talk to her, make her understand that they had to work together or face the consequences. He didn’t know if Starfleet had already arrived, but if he didn’t find Halden now, he was certain that both of them would be on the losing side. 


 

Now armed, Halden crept through the corridors that led to the surgical suite. The room was still in disarray, pieces of damaged equipment strewn about, and everything of value removed when Mahok had left. 

She peeked into the adjoining hallway, the one leading to the cells, finding the doors open and their prisoners gone. It surprised her that Mahok had taken them along, especially since he had argued the subject of space on the shuttle, but that tracked with earlier displays of what he regarded important, and what was disposable. 

It should have made her angry, make her hate him, but it didn’t. Not more than she already did. 

If she was honest with herself, she hated every single soul on this vessel. A few years ago, when the ship had carried a different name and was in the business of illegal substances rather than Borg technology, they had encountered her freighter, badly damaged after an ion storm.

Ignoring them would have been easy. Helping them would have barely cost any resources. Taking the vessel is hardly any effort. It had been utterly senseless to board them in the way they did. 

That day had shaped her, and taught her that the galaxy remained a dangerous place. But that was in the past now, and she had to secure her future. 

Her ears perked up as she heard footsteps behind her, heavy and moving with purpose, but she resisted the urge to turn around, but in the reflection of one of the terminals, she could make out a tall frame standing in the doorway. Draxon. 

“Halden”, he growled, taking a menacing step towards her. “We have to talk.” 

“Talking is overrated.”, she said, and turned around, her hand clutching the weapon she had retrieved earlier. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation, her movement fluid and controlled as she fired.


Draxon’s eyes widened as he stared at the weapon, and heard it click. He staggered a few steps backwards, anticipated a sharp pain in his chest, and a painful last gasp, but none of the sort happened. 

As a matter of fact, nothing happened at all. He looked at the malfunctioning phaser, then at Halden as his brain struggled to catch up with what had just happened.  

She had wanted to kill him. Even now, when they should be allies, she wanted to see him fail. Did she really hate him that much?

He noticed Halden attempting to reset her phaser, murderous intent still in her eyes, and before he could make any conscious decision on what to do, his instinct took over. He closed the distance between them as he lunged at her, letting anger fuel his movements. He would beat some sense into her, if that was what it took to make her listen.  

She screamed and tried to scramble away from him, but she was just an engineer, he was a trained soldier. 

He grabbed her arm to wrestle the weapon away from her, and howled as she clawed at him, but didn’t let go. He slammed her against the wall, and part of him savoured her cry of pain. 

“Stop this and we can talk.”, he urged her, trying his best to keep his temper down. Now that she was disarmed, she was no longer a danger, and he held her pressed against the wall. 

Her response was not what he had expected. 

“Talk?”, she scoffed, spitting into his face. “To you? You barely manage to string two sentences together without stumbling over your words, let alone make any sense.”  

Draxon exhaled, ready to make one last attempt to put it all out there, and make her understand that he wanted all of them to get out of this. 

“I might not be the smartest, I admit that.”, he said in slow, controlled breaths.. “And we might not get along. But this ship – you people are-… “ He paused “This is all I have.”

Halden paused for a moment. And then she started laughing. It was that condescending laugh that had always put him on edge, made him feel worthless. And she knew that. 

“This is the most stupid shit I’ve ever heard.”, she said coldly, and between fits of laughter. 

And Draxon snapped. He grabbed her head, hitting it against the wall. His mind screamed at him to stop, to think, to breathe, but Draxon’s vision didn’t clear until Halden stopped laughing. 


 

Halden felt herself crashing to the floor once Draxon let go of her, an throbbing pain spreading from the back of her head to her whole body. But only for a moment. She looked up at Draxon, noting the expression of utter shock on his face rather than the pleased smile she had expected.

He knelt down to her. Her body felt light, detached, as if she was floating above the pain. It was a strangely empty feeling, and she barely perceived Draxon pulling her into his arms. 

“I… didn’t want that… I… I’ll find a doctor… Starfleet has doctors…”, his voice cracked like that of a child having broken a favoured toy. 

And all Halden could think was how ridiculous it was that he actually meant all that bullshit about being a big happy family. If the situation had been any different, Halden would have made fun of the way his hands trembled as he held her. But now, the only thing she felt was fear. If Starfleet’s doctors were what would save her, she was all for it. She would rather live in a prison colony than die here. 

There were shadows in the doorway. Perhaps that was Starfleet now. Perhaps this wasn’t the end after all. But something didn’t feel right. 

She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Her eyes fixed on the shadows that moved closer with each passing second, fixing her eyes on the figures that were slowly stepping into the light. 

She could make out partially bloodied, dishevelled clothing, and dark metal fused to skin. A cold dread settled in her chest. The security protocols… In her haste, she had disabled them. Her eyes widened in terror as she looked at Draxon, trying to redirect his attention to the approaching prisoners, but his concerned gaze never left her. 

Not until they had reached him.