The first thing Mark became aware of was the pain which exploded repeatedly through his skull with the force of a sledgehammer. He was laying with arms outstretched on his stomach; the floor was hard and cool against his cheek as he stirred. Cracking open one eye, he waited patiently for the room to slowly come into focus.
His prison was a small, circular room made of stone. It was unfurnished, with a large iron door in the corner. As the grey light of dawn filtered in through several slats near the cieling, he could make out a figure huddled against the far wall. Wincing, he struggled to his knees, the room wavering and coming into focus once more.
"Commander. You are awake."
The voice belonged to Turek, but it was weak and thready, and almost unrecognizable.
"Turek? Is that you?" Mark staggered in the direction of the voice and his eyes widened in alarm at what he saw. Turek sat propped against the wall, his arms dangling limply at his sides. His face was bruised and the front of his tunic was stained green.
"You're bleeding." he accused the Vulcan, dropping down on one knee to assess his wounds more closely.
Turek winced at his touch. "It appears we have been discovered. I was questioned and when I proved uncooperative, I was brought here."
"How long have we been in this room? The last thing I remember is giving Tingal his latinum."
"You were unconscious for several hours." Turek grimaced as Mark bound his ribcage with strips of cloth from his pantleg.
"We've been sold out. This whole thing was a trap." Mark said angrily, ignoring his throbbing head. "Malaki Sorel was there. I saw her."
Turek frowned. "Her presence has been suspect from the beginning." he rasped, wincing.
"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. They took my recorder--the mission failed. We've got to get out of here and get back to Prometheus so that you can get looked at." Mark sighed. He held himself responsible for the failure of thier mission. It was up to him to salvage what he could.
"I agree that you must escape. At the minimum, Starfleet must be informed that the mission was compromised internally."
"Dont be ridiculous." Mark said shortly. "We're both leaving."
"My current physical capabilities are questionable. It is unlikely that I will have the strength to assist you in escape. My injuries will slow you down and decrease the chance of success." he pointed out.
"So we'll take our time."
"The logical course of action is for you to go alone. I would advise you to leave me here. My injuries are extensive and my survival without medical aid is unlikely." Turek winced again as a spasm of pain washed over him. Mark O'Conner's irrational viewpoint was tiring to refute.
"Your opinion is noted. Look, Turek. I'm not leaving without you. I outrank you and I say we go together or not at all. Besides, you're not dying. Don't you have a special someone back home on Vulcan? I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate your fatalistic attitude."Mark retorted.
Turek's expression hardened. "I fail to see how my personal life applies to our situation. I do not wish to discuss it."
"Fine."Mark snapped. He hid is anxiety over the Vulcan's obviously deteriorating condition, using anger as a mask. Turek was becoming paler by the moment.
They sat without speaking, listening to Turek's shallow breathing which seemed amplified in the silent room. At last, grudgingly, Turek offered,
"There is someone on Vulcan. I am betrothed."
"Engaged? Congratulations. See? There you go. You need to come with me so that you can get home for your wedding."
"It is unlikely that she would be distressed if I did not return."
Mark was surprised at the naked honesty of the statement, particularly that Turek would choose to reveal something so obviously personal to him, of all people. The pain he was in seemed to be interfering with his control of his emotions. Mark could have spoiled the moment with a misplaced word of comfort, but wisely chose to remain silent.
The Vulcan must have composed himself for he did not offer to elaborate. Instead, he said, "It is illogical to continue this disagreement."
With that statement, Turek lapsed into silence. He closed his eyes, seemed to sag against the stone, and did not speak again. With restless energy, Mark spent the next several hours examining their cell for anything he could use to their advantage. As far as he could see, there were no structural weaknesses, nothing he could use to aid in escape. There was nothing to be done until one of their captors returned. Mark clenched his jaw in consternation. He hadn't been able to come up with one realistic plan that might lead to escape. Grimly, he glanced in Turek's direction, visually checking his wounds. The Vulcan had needed his bandages changed repeatedly. The bleeding had not stopped. If they didn't escape soon, it was quite likely that he would die.
At last, the long awaited echo of approaching footsteps filtered through the crack in the door. Momentarily, the iron door swung open and a Rigelian pointing a disruptor entered carefully. His eyes swept briefly over Mark but he did not speak. Behind him, a second armed Rigelian entered cautiously.
"Get up." The first captor ordered.
"My friend here needs medical help." Mark said coldly, making no move to rise.
"That's not my concern." The Rigelian motioned to his partner, who obediently dragged a half-conscious Turek to his feet.
"I said get up. Or we will kill this one. He is of little use wounded as it is."
The man's tone left little doubt that he would do just that, and more, as he eyed Mark with growing impatience. Reluctantly, Mark stood up and swung Turek's arm around his neck. With a firm grip on his waist, he managed to keep the Vulcan in an upright position. He could feel the cold metal of a disruptor jab him in the ribs, but he ignored it.
"Let's go."
"Where to?"Mark demanded.
The Rigelian smiled. "You will see."
Mark frowned. He didn't particularly liked the sound of that. He half dragged Turek, his arm firmly supporting him to counter the Vulcan's frequent stumbling as they made thier way across the stone floors fo the building. Whenever they slowed, their escorts took turns prodding them with their weapons. At long last, they were herded down a dark corridor to a small room which appeard to be a storage area of sorts. Before Mark's brain could fully register his new surroundings, one of the Rigelians had grabbed him by the arm and thrust him back against a wall. Without his support, Turek seemed to teeter on his feet and then slide to the floor as his legs folded under him. Both Rigelians ignored him, focusing instead on Mark.
Pointing a disruptor at his temple, his captor clutched the neck of his tunic so tightly that Mark could feel his circulation beginning to slow. His throat began to constrict and his vision swam and faded to grey as he struggled to inhale. Vaguely, he could hear the Rigelian's insistent voice as if from a distance, demanding that he reveal who he really was.
Suddenly, the pressure to his throat ceased and he sucked in a greedly lungful of air. His vision returned and he became aware of strong hands clutching his shoulders to support him. A figure in a charcoal grey cloak hovered before him, the face partially hidden within the shadows of a hood, but he could see the eyes that looked steadily back at him.
"Youre making things very difficult for me." The figure admonished.
Mark recognized the amused tone immediately, and shrugged her hands away angrily, "Traitor!"
Malaki Sorel arched one brow haughtily. "I take offence to that, Commander. Especially since i saved your ass. Twice."
"Saved my ass?" he echoed.
"You would've been dead if I had'nt been there during your little 'deal'. I'm the one who convinced Tingal not to kill you right away. I told him you'd bring a fair price on the Orion slave market."
"Do you expect a thank you? You betrayed us."
Malaki ignored him. "Actually, I'm here to rescue you. A thank you would be nice but certainly isn't necessary."
Belatedly, Mark realized that the two Rigelians who had been doing a fairly good job at killing him a few minutes ago were now sprawled on the floor, unconscious or worse.
"Rescue us?"Mark asked suspiciously.
"Yes. For your information, you struggled with your guards, somehow managed to appropriate one of thier weapons, and you shot them. You and your pal then found your way out of this place and you disappeared. Tingal will be upset that he didn't find out who you were working for, but he'll get over it. I'll give him cause to think you were a spy sent by a rival."
"You're one of Tingal's operatives. You dont expect me to believe that you'll help me."
"I told you I was undercover, Commander." For the first time, Malaki's good humor seemed to fade. "When I first sought you out, I said my orders were to keep you out of trouble. And that's what i'm doing."
"How did Tingal know I was setting him up? That was your doing."he countered.
Malaki narrowed her eyes at the Starfleet officer."Yes. It was. Do you have any idea how long it took me to gain his confidence? I knew about your little mission here but I didnt know it would lead to Tingal. If you succeeded you would have destroyed two years of my work here. There are larger things happeniing than you realize." She took a step closer. "And I couldn't let you ruin it."
"So you chose your mission over mine."
Malaki smiled, then, suddenly. "You can incriminate whomever you'd like for drug trafficking. Just not Tingal. I, and Starfleet Intel, have other plans for him."
"You took a risk. What if he hadn't listened to you? He could have killed me. Turek's wounded--you caused that."
Malaki's expression hardened. "I said I'd watch out for you and I did. But my mission, and my cover, are more important. I would have accepted responsibilitiy for casualties."
Mark stared at her in disbelief. She had betrayed them, almost caused them to be killed, all for her ambition and that of her organization. And she had the nerve to smile as she admitted it.
"You don't think I'm leaving without the proof I came for, do you? I've got my own orders." Mark said. "I dont care if they interferes with yours, frankly."
"Why do you have to be so difficult?" she sighed apologetically. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that." Malaki pulled out a phaser, aimed, and a thin red beam hit him squarely in the chest.
As he sagged to the floor, Malaki glanced in Turek's direction. He had opened his eyes and now regarded her solemnly but did not speak.
"Dont worry." the amused tone had returned. "And stop looking at me like that. It was set on stun."
She glanced at the wounded Vulcan and unconscious human and shook her head.
"Now it'll be twice as hard to smuggle you off this moon." she said reprovingly.
***********
Colin Becker swiveled towards his XO in his chair, deactivating his computer screen as he did so. Makr O'Conner was tight lipped and visibly angry as he sat rigidly across from him. And Colin couldn't blame him, not after he had read his preliminary mission report. NOt after Mark and Turek had arrived, dropping out of warp without warning earlier today. Both had been sedated into unconsciousness, thier shuttle set on auto-pilot, programmed with Prometheus' coordinates. The Captain had immediately sent a communique to Intel, protesting the behavior of thier operative and suggesting they not request assistance on missions if they were not prepared to accept the results. After a polite explanation that he did not understand the intricacies of intelligence work and how missions sometimes overlapped, the prompt reply informed him to butt out and do as he was told.
Colin had nver trusted the Intelligence branch of Starfleet, but his officers' experience had soured him even further, if possible. "There are several names on this disc--none of them linked to Tingal, unfortunately." he said quietly.
"I wouldnt expect them to be. I wasn't allowed to bring hard evidence. THis disc was probably manufactured or edited by Commander Sorel and placed in our shuttle."
"It's appropriately vague and therefore useless." Colin sighed.
"I apologize, Captain." Mark said stiffly, his eyes focusing on a spot directly above Colin's head. "The mission is a failure."
"You are the not the one who should apologize, Mr. o'Conner. The mission failed, yes, but through no fault of your own"
Colin had searched through Starfleet's files on the devious Malaki Sorel. Apparently, not even a Captain's clearnace was sufficient to declassify her records.
"I hope we've seen the last of Intel for a while."
"As do I." Colin fervently agreed, refusing to allow his sour memories of the Intel debriefing following the Iridan incident to surface.
Misinterpreting Colin's frown for disapproval, Mark promised, "I wont let something like this happen again. And I hope you will continue to place your confidence in me, Sir."
Forcing away the insistent memories, Colin managed a smile. "I know you wont. My report will reflect that you had no responsibility in what occured on Naare-you were clearly manipulated by an Intelligence agent. Please know you are an excellent first officer."
Mark was oddly pleased by the compliment and relaxed slightly.
"Now get some rest. That's an order."
"Yes, sir."Mark smiled.
********** Mark O'Conner nodded absently at the crew members who called out in greeting as they passed him. If he had bothered to look behind him, he would have seen the curious stares and corresponding shrugs as to why he was loitering in the hallway.
He scratched his head.
He cleared his throat.
He stretched his arms.
To his surprise, the door he had been standing in front of slid open abruptly and Turek stepped out.
"Commander."
Mark was impressed with the Vulcan's casual demeanor. He greeted him in a tone that impled finding Mark hovering outside his door was a commonplace occurance. He scrutinized Turek now, relieved to see that his injuries were indeed healing well. Although Doctor Keset had assured him this was the case, he had insisted on coming to see for himself.
"Hello, Turek. I was just passing by and you opened the door before I could knock." he said casually.
Turek remained silent for a moment, his dark eyes burning into Mark's own. Ever so slowly, one eyebrow inched its way skyward.
"That is an incorrect statement, Commander. You have been standing outside my door for 11 minutes and 23 seconds."
"How did--" Mark cut himself off abruptly. Belatedly, he recalled that Vulcans had some form of telepathic ability. He had likely sensed his presence.
Turek evidently felt compelled to explain. "I heard you tapping your feet and members of the crew greeting you as they passed."
That damn Vulcan hearing, Mark thought wryly. "Yes, well, ah--" he began.
To his surprise, Turek came to his rescue. "Do you wish to come in?"
Makr nodded. "IF I may."
Without replying, Turek stepped back to allow him to pass. Mark hesitated as he stepped over the threshold, giving Turek's private quarters a quick glance. The interior was sparsely furnished; a bed, a desk, two chairs and several shelves of personal items took up little room and gave the illusion of added space. The walls and floor were a stark white but the ivory and beige decor softened the look of the room considerably.
In one corner was a tall sleek piece of art--a series of interconnected abstract shapes done in cream colored marble. Mark touched it lightly; the smooth polished curves felt cool beneath his fingers.
"Do you like it?" Turek still had not moved from the doorway.
"It's beautiful. Where did you get it?"
"I made it."
That got Mark's attention and he looked at Turek in amazement. He would never have pegged the Vulcan as an artist, much less a talented one.
"You sculpt?"
"I used to. Long ago." Turek said reluctantly, evidiently not willing to elaborate. "Please sit down."
Mark obeyed, choosing a beige chair with a high back that curved sharply. He was surprised at Turek's aesthetic sense, already realizing this visit would force him to re-evaluate his previous assessment of the Vulcan.
"You must be wondering what I'm doing here."
"I am...curious."
Mark leaned forward and sighed. "I've come to apologize, Turek. The mission failed and you were injured because of me."
"That is hardly a logical assumption." Turek objected.
"Nevertheless, I repeatedly disregarded your opinions when perhaps I should have listened more closely. IN fact, you should have gone alone. The mission would have probably ended differently."
"Malaki Sorel would have still known I was coming. She would have found a way to intercept me." he reminded him.
"But you would have been more cautious. Isnt that what you kept telling me?"
"I believe the captain selected both of us for the qualities each would bring to the mission." Turek said diplomatically. "It was unsuccessful but now it is ended. It would be counterproductive to dwell on it. Let us consider the matter closed."
Mark nodded, sighing. "I still apologize that you were injured. We never should have split up."
"And I am....thankful that you did not leave me to die as I had requested." Turek said with obvious difficulty.
Thier eyes locked. Although neither man said a word, a sense of unspoken understanding passed between them. The competitive and, at times, hostile nature each had for the other had momentarily vanished.
Mark offered a faint smile.
"As you say, let us consider the matter closed."
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