measured_words | Twenty-Five Years 04

I'm a bit rushed, as I'm leaving for the week in about half an hour and still need to pack D: Forgive me for any typos, etc! Also thanks to

earis for proofing this for me.... and the last installment too, now that I think of it!

ETA: Series Notes and chapter index here

Twenty-Five Years 04 - Refugees

It had always been a gamble, and Ayel had been quick to point it out.

“What’s going to stop them from just killing you?” He’d asked as soon as Nero had explained the plan, well before the Klingon cruiser had ever appeared on Narada’s damaged sensors.

“Greed.”

He trusted Nero’s assessment, and T’Lalea had backed him up. His conviction, however, couldn’t quite quell his current apprehension. The seventy some remaining crew members were in to the second hour of their forced march across the frozen face of Rura Pente, penetrating further into the natural magnetic shielding that prevented transporter use and, therefore, escape. They were accompanied by a fair number of armed guards, who seemed to take excessive delight in hounding their shackled charges when they stumbled on the ice or treacherous, or spoke too loudly amongst themselves, or any number of other invented infractions. The mutterings that Ayel could hear were all in a similar vein – “Where are we going?” “What’s happening?” “Where’s captain Nero?”

Ayel had last seen him shortly after the subroutines they’d implanted in Narada’s systems had engaged, triggered once there were no more Rihannsu life signs aboard, and activating her most fatal intruder defences. He’d been lying on the floor of a cell where their captors had left him after their unsuccessful attempt to force information from him. Other programs were set to engage the cloaking device and various other defensive technologies, along with the travel algorithm that, if it worked properly, would move the ship to random destinations over the next two and a half decades. It was another risk, but better than handing the ship over to the Klingons.

Is it better that they don’t know the details? Without Nero, the path ahead was going to be more difficult. Ayel might have the same information, more or less, but he lacked the presence. It didn’t help that he still felt like he’d been run through Narada’s ore processor, and was freezing to boot. Water showing us its cruellest face. He didn’t cut a particularly impressive figure at the moment, but made an effort to at least stand straight.

Ayel shivered again, dismissing his negative thoughts. The pace seemed to be slowing, and there was a dim light visible through the haze of drifting snow. Half an hour later, the prisoner columns were clustered around an entrance rising out of the ice-crusted surface of an otherwise featureless white plain. The warden was at least sized like a proper Klingon, though not as tall as Ayel. Both he and the local guards had animals on leashes – angry things that seemed all long pointed teeth and growls. Looking down on them from the raised entry platform, the warden addressed the group through some kind of vocal amplifier, tone rich with scorn and evil glee.

“Welcome to the dilithium mining penal colony of Rura Penthe. I trust you have had an unpleasant trek. We like to introduce our guests this way so that they properly understand what is waiting for them should they foolishly venture out of the facility. That said, we post no guards here, as there is simply nowhere to go. You are now all miners, whatever you may have been before doesn’t concern me. If you work well, you will do well. If not…. I will let you imagine the consequences for yourself. Men will start work at 0600h. It is now 02h48. You have four hours to settle in. I’d say ‘and make new friends’, but no one here likes to have their sleep disturbed, so I find that unlikely.” With that he laughed, and with a wave of his hand, they were pressed forward again, past a gauntlet of snapping teeth and glowering Klingons.

The Narada crew packed the first antechamber – a natural cavern enlarged considerably by laser carving, if Ayel was any judge. The guards inside were also armed, and all wearing helmets which at least simulated the head ridges he was accustomed to seeing on Klingons. They were clustered in to key areas, likely guarding equipment or processed dilithium. Despite the warden’s speech, a number of other prisoners were awake. Some were of races Ayel had only heard of, from the far edges of the Klingon Empire. They gave the Rihannsu a wary once-over before most disappeared. It was practically a given that there weren’t any other groups as large or as coherent as the crew, and Ayel wished he could didn’t have to think about the implications of that until after he’d caught that four hours of rest. Instead, he made note of all their faces.

No one, not even the guards, seemed inclined to give them any further guidance. The murmuring around him was increasing. People were looking for direction, and answers that were too long delayed. Direction, at least, I can give. Ayel turned to T’Lalea.

“Take a few others, and make a place for us.” He spoke loud enough for those around to overhear easily. She bowed her head in acknowledgement of the order – a public gesture to support his own, then turned to the crowd. He watched her tag four others, solid men from the drill crews, then turned to H’man.

“Find Taul and Maru – make sure everyone is alright. When T’Lalea gets back, have her send someone with you and see if you can find any useful supplies. Take anything you can use.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir,” another voice put in. Ayel turned to face the inevitable. “What’s going on? Are we really just…. Letting this happen? What’s happened to captain Nero?”

Nero, he told himself again, will be alright. The Elements were with them all. Though they might be all the Rihannsu had these days, the ice outside was a reminder that they could be cold comfort at times. Ayel raised his eyebrows at the questioner, another solid miner named Vanor. He was older than many of the others, and had been friends, kin perhaps, with Thrai. Married, children grown, and probably all dead unless by some stroke of Elemental mercy some had been posted away with the fleet. Had they been enlisted? He couldn’t remember. Ayel held his pose until Vanor looked away. “Be patient just a little longer, friend.” Again, he let his words carry beyond his immediately audience. “And you’ll have what answers you can give.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The barracks they’d secured reminded Ayel of the training camp he’d been posted to at the beginning of his compulsory four year enlistment in the Imperial Space Fleet. Decades ago now. Then at least, the recruits had been allowed some personal possessions. Here, they had nothing. Prisoners, technically, but in his mind they were refugees. Now they sat on the edge of their bunks, looking to him for answers. The burden of mnhei’sahe for the crew would break him alone. And for all that they had lost, as well… Nero was mad, certainly, to have accepted that responsibility, no matter what he said. He wasn’t wrong, but he was mad, and as Ayel opened his mouth to address the other Rihannsu, he cleaved to the thought that their captain would be with them all again soon.