Two Settings: Stun & Kill
Charles Cadwallader
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Tank slowly eyed his new surroundings while Krezek spoke, apparently his plan had worked, a little too well if he was honest with himself.
"I don't have time to explain Lieutenant, except to say that I'm not here to do you harm." He shrugged himself up to a sort of half sitting position, "In fact quite the opposite. Suffice to say the people who attacked you held me as a guest recently, against my will that is. We've been tracking them since then and intercepted the order to target you. I don't know why you made their list, but we figured it was best to intervene."
"'We'?" Jeral asked, unsure of this new development.
He glanced over at T'Uriel, whom seemed to be taking this in with Vulcan stoical reasoning. Patterns of logic still swirled in his head from his lesson from the hurt elder. Not having his weapon at the ready and pointing around was something that keyed into that factor - either this was an incredibly good ruse, or he was telling the truth. Judging from what his brain was also assailing him with, this was the truth. His empathic sense struggled against the logic he had been taught in the long meld with the elder, but the logical side of the brain held fast, flexing its new talents against the surge of emotions from others.
He took a breath and focused. "I believe you," he finally said. "Now what's the plan?"
The marine seemed to recover more every second from his bout of unconsciousness, "I left quite a few surprises for your assailants, but even with my friend out there stirring up the hive we have minutes before they come down on us here."
As if to emphasize his point, several pairs of booted footsteps could be heard crunching into the edge of the quarry. Tank breathed quietly giving his captor a look that clearly stated his deadly sincerity, dropping his voice to a whisper. “You have good cover here, and if you can shoot just as well as before you and I should be able to hold them off long enough for my ride to pick us up and get your friend to a medic.”
"I can. I am... or, I should say, was, Starfleet Security, after all." Jeral's head was still swimming in emotion, but the more he pressed his mind, the more control he got over other's emotions. He extended his hand. "Guess it's time I started using my training again."
Accepting the hand up gladly Tank smiled despite the wince of pain from the blow to his chest he had taken earlier, “It seems letting you shoot me was the fastest solution after all, if perhaps the stupidest and reckless.”
"Reminds me of my brothers and sister," Jeral commented. He looked over at the kit the Marine had when he was brought in. "You seem to have a good pack here of equipment... but I wouldn't suggest using the explosives. The buildings and structures here are centuries old; I am surprised they are even still standing at this point." He nodded towards the form of Serik. "It's an elder from Vulcan. I'm not sure if we're going to be able to move him or not, so this will have to be our standing place. I have a feeling that these people pursuing us will shoot first, but they probably want me in one piece, if I am the target." When Tank looked over at him, he shrugged. "It possibly has something to do with the empathic and telepathic suppressants I had been taking, which would be pretty much the only reason why I would be wanted, plus the reason why you, Doctor T'Uriel, could not get a straight answer out of Starfleet Medical about it. Logically, it's either a bioweapon or the antidote to a bioweapon."
T'Uriel blinked. "That is a large assumption, Lieutenant," she stated.
"That it is, but I cannot think of a reason they are specifically targeting me... unless someone in my family pissed someone else off to the point where all Krezeks are in danger, which I suspect is not the case." Jeral sighed, then turned back to Tank. "Time is of the essence. Do you have any suggestions for defense, Mister...?"
"Chandler, Colonel Jean Chandler, formerly of the Starfleet Marine Corps. My current posting is a little more fluid. Most people just call me Tank. We just need to hold them for a few minutes, the last transmission I got from my friend out there was that he was going to try to procure us a ride."
"Then let's get moving," Jeral said, picking up the rifle and handing it back to the Marine. He hesitated. "Sorry for shooting you."
Shouldering the weapon and instinctively checking the sights and power levels Tank grinned, "Believe me, not as sorry as I was for walking into it. I'm just glad in retrospect that you went for a standard take down, stun the center of mass. A higher setting or a head shot would have sure been the icing on my week."
Jeral pointed to the weapon. "A higher setting was a kill shot," he pointed out. He pointed to the indicator. "It's the old assault phaser design from the previous century. Two settings: stun and kill. Kill disintegrates." He shrugged. "And to be honest... I don't like killing that much. But we should get going before those that do catch up with us and really frost your week."
Tank merely nodded as the two got to the work of defending themselves, hoping for Bob Martens to produce some sort of miracle.
Off: Tag to Bob!
--Charles E. L. Cadwallader
"Aut viam inveniam aut faciam" - "I will either find a way or make one"