There Are More Lights

Posted on Tue Jun 6th, 2023 @ 5:15pm by Lieutenant JG Ryland Dedeker & Lieutenant Sophie Xiong

3,247 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Season 1 Interlude II (E5.5)
Location: Unknown
Timeline: ID 5

"Wake up!"

"Did the Vulcan wake up?"

"Does it look like she is woke up?"

"Did you tell her to wake up?"

"I did! I did tell her to wake up!"

"Then why is she no woke up!"

"Maybe this will help!"

A heavy splash of something liquid, hopefully water, roused Sophie from her slumber. She was no longer in the resort or anywhere near the coast for that matter. The structure of the open room suggested an oval-frame building that appeared to have once been a cottage of some kind, perhaps for early industrial development of the planet, now held up only by force of habit. The lone window in the room showed the peak of a mountaintop but little else save for blue skies. Surrounding her cot was a trio of Pakleds, one of whom held an empty bucket that smelled suspiciously unsanitary.

But Sophie was in no state to care. Vaguely, she wondered if she had a mild concussion at the same time as becoming aware that she was all wet. “Why’m I wet?” she slurred. “‘N’ why’d ya hit me?”

"The Vulcan is awake!" one Pakled exclaimed.

"Get the script!" exclaimed another.

"... I can't find it!" exclaimed a distant Pakled voice.

"You are the stupid," muttered the bald third Pakled who hadn't spoken yet as he turned around and walked away. "I'll find it myself."

“You’re all stupid!” slurred Sophie. “You’re the worst kidnappers ever. Get me a towel or something. And a hypo full of headache cure.”

"The Vulcan is making demands," said one of the Pakleds.

Another Pakled shook his head with angry vigor. "No! We make demands!" He looked over his shoulder. "Where are our demands?"

"I found the script!" shouted another Pakled triumphantly.

"Bring it here," said the angry one. He snatched the antiquated PDA out of his associate's hands and began to read from it. "To the superiors of the Vulcan archaeology thieves in the Keyhole Nebula, the Klynkan Clumpsortium has stolen your chief researcher T'Sen and will only give her back once you recognize the Klynkan salvage rights and leave the Keyhole to our Clumpsortium." He put the PDA down and gave Sophie a gloating smirk. "I have already sent a recording of these demands to your bosses. You should pray they do as we say."

“Are you totally inept or just a complete I’m imbecile?” demanded Sophie. “Do I look like a Vulcan?”

The Pakleds turned concerned. "The Vulcan says she is not a Vulcan," said one.

"Nonsense," said the most angry one. "We took the Vulcan from the Vulcan's quarters. Don't fall for her trickery." He cast a cynical glare at Sophie. "Vulcan trickery is infamous." The look on his face looked particularly proud of his eloquence.

“That may be true,” said Sophie grumpily. “But since I’m not Vulcan, I’m not very good at fooling people, am I?”

"Yeah... but... you... the..." The angry Pakled punctuated his stammering with an angry grunt. "Janglung! Get a doctor! I want proof this Vulcan is who she is supposed to be!"

“If it’s a Pakled doctor, I wouldn’t trust him to tell a Vulcan from a Saurian,” Sophie muttered.

"Pakleds are smart!" The four Pakleds grunted not quite in unison.

"But maybe we ask the Listener anyway," said one of the Pakleds. "Just to be sure."

The de facto leader grunted before nodding. "Yes. To the Listener!" He slid a rifle off his shoulder and poked Sophie with it. "You come. No tricky business or I fire!"

“I already told you,” replied Sophie irritably. “I’m no good at tricking people. And stop poking me!”

Despite her protests, Sophie was indeed poked several more times as the armed Pakleds led her out of the remote cabin toward a shuttle craft that did not appear spaceworthy. "Get in," ordered the foremost Pakled, pointing with his rifle rather than poking her again.

“A Maverick Mack VI?” she questioned, disbelievingly. “Those things are only meant for high atmostphereic flying. I hope you’re not planning on going any farther than the moon.”

For that quip, she got another rifle poke between the shoulders that forced her inside the shuttle. "No talking! Why does this Vulcan talk too much?"

“Vulcan’s don’t talk too much and are tricksy,” Sophie pointed out. “I talk to much and am not good at fooling you. Yet another proof that I am not a Vulcan.”

"Save it for the Listener," the Pakled groused as Sophie was restrained by two others to the side of the hull. "He'll get to the bottom of your deception."

”Somehow, I doubt it,” muttered Sophie with a roll of her eyes.

The shuttle took off and hopped a few mountaintops over until the sunlit amaranth ocean came into view. A small lagoon jutted inland which featured a Tiki hut of sorts near the end. There was a flat clearing nearby where a shuttle had recently rested. It seemed the Pakled pilot was headed straight for the landing zone. "Lie to the Listener all you want," the Pakleds boasted. "He will know the truth no matter what."

“Or he’ll know your version of the truth,” muttered Sophie. “So where is this ‘listener’ character?”

"There." The Pakled pointed at the Tiki hut. "Out you go!"

Sophie was led to the front of the hut which had no door. When the Pakleds drew near, though, a forcefield erected around them all.

"What do you want?" A dark-haired man of fair complexion stepped out from behind the hut. He wore minimal, hand-fashioned clothing and helped a wood axe propped up on one shoulder. "You idiots need to stop bothering me. I'm supposed to be on holiday."

"We captured the Vulcan," said one of the Pakleds, though it was difficult to tell since they were all squished together along with Sophie into a very confined space. "But she says she isn't a Vulcan. We wanted your--"

"Wait, wait, wait..." The man dropped the axe on the ground and held his hand up, demanding to be heard. "You bothered me again, for the fifth time this week, because you can't tell whether a Vulcan is a Vulcan?"

"She's tricksy!" one of the Pakleds protested.

The man shook his head. "Why me? What did I do to deserve this?" After taking a calming breath, he said, "All right, fine. Let's see her."

"She's right here!" said one of the Pakleds.

“As I’ve explained to them, Vulcans are clever and I’m not, so I can’t be a Vulcan,” said Sophie as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the universe.

"Who's this?" The man dropped his axe, pointed at Sophie, and then waved over the group of Pakleds in frustration. "Don't tell me that's your Vulcan. She isn't a Vulcan. Have you seen a Vulcan before? That is not what Vulcans look like." Stepping toward Sophie, he said, "Look at these facial features. See the folds of her eyes, her facial bones, her obviously not prominent brow? If those features are too subtle for your tiny minds, perhaps it is her distinctly rounded ear lobes!" He gave her ear a flick for good measure. "I'm charging you double my usual fee for wasting my time."

“I tried to tell them,” said Sophie with a hint of gloating in her voice. “They really are dumb, aren’t they? It’s not just me, right?”

The Listener sighed. "She's seen my face. I can't afford to let her live. Whatever you do with her, make it quick and make it permanent. Do you understand?" Sighing again as he realized they were all immobilized by his forcefield, he said, "Never mind. I'll do it myself. Don't go anywhere." With that, the man wandered into his hut.

Left to themselves for the moment, the Pakleds began to deliberate.

"So... what now? We need the Vulcan female for ransom. This one is no good."

"You don't know!" retorted another Pakled.

"I do know," the first one shot back, "because I am not the stupid like you!"

"Let's find out who she is," suggested a third. "Maybe we ransom the un-Vulcan for other job."

"Don't mention the other job!" snapped the first Pakled.

"She's not a Vulcan," the third Pakled said. "She won't figure it out."

"But she's human," said the first one. "Probably Starfleet. Starfleet can figure it out and they aren't supposed to."

"Starfleet might pay ransom," said the fourth Pakled who hadn't spoken yet. "Not kill us like Klingons or Ferengis."

"But the Listener..." said the second one. "He is going to kill her. None of this matters."

"Then we ask her if she is valuable," concluded the first one concluded. His anger seemed to be curbed by greed. "If she is, then we kill the Listener."

"Agreed!" shouted the others before they started hushing each other.

Turning to Sophie, the angry Pakled asked, "How valuable are you?"

“I’m the cleverest engineer in the universe,” said Sophie. And it was obvious that she believed it. “I could probably make that thing space worthy,” she added, nodding to their shuttle. She knew its shortfalls, anyway, and knew the theory of how to fix them. So, truthfully, she probably could do it.

"If she upgrades the shuttle, we could get back to the clumpship!" one of the Pakleds squealed.

"We can't go back to the clumpship without the ransom, you stupid!"

"Oh, right!" They looked on her as one while the excited Pakled asked, "How much ransom are you worth, human?"

Had there not been someone about to kill her, Sophie would probably have taken her chances with the truth- the Federation did not negotiate with terrorists and therefore, she was worth nothing. But, as it were…. “A lot,” she told them. “Several hundred bricks of latinum for sure. Maybe more.”

"Latinum bricks?" The Pakleds turned excited. "The Captain was going to pay in Barkonian doraks! With seven hundred gold-pressed latinum bricks, we get our own clumpship!"

By this time, the man called the Listener had returned with a plasma disruptor in hand. "Where are you going to get 700 latinum bricks?" He looked skeptical to the point of amusement, but curiosity was getting the better of him.

"The human's ransom!" said one of the Pakleds.

"Shut up, Gyorn!" said the angry Pakled.

"No, you shut up, Jaglikar!"

"All of you shut up," the Listener said, then he pointed at Sophie who was still trapped in the forcefield with the rest of them. "Except you. Tell me who's going to pay a planet's ransom for you."

Well shit. Now she had nothing. Unless the Listener was a dumb as a Pakled, she was done for. But she had to try. “Starfleet,” she answered. “I have a lot of top secret information that only I know. They’ll pay dearly for me.”

The Listener threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, come on. You might be Starfleet, but everyone knows Starfleet doesn't pay ransoms." His eyes darted at the Pakleds. "At least anyone with more than two neurons to rub together." Despite his skepticism, he still looked intrigued. "However... there might be someone who can properly appraise your value." The Listener looked at the Pakleds. "I'm claiming your hostage in the name of the Black Nagus. If you have a problem with that, you can file it in the incinerator out back where I'll subsequently dispose of your bodies should you annoy me further. Begone, now."

When the forcefields dropped, nobody made any immediate movement. The Pakleds just took the chance to stretch their limbs after having been packed so close together.

"That means leave!" the Listener yelled as the startled Pakleds scrambled back to their shuttle. "Not you, human." He pointed his disruptor at Sophie to ensure she understood. "We're about to get more acquainted."

Sophie resisted the urge to growl. She only barely had an idea of who the Black Nagus was, but she knew she didn’t want anything to do with him. Time to be underestimated. “My boyfriend will be looking for me,” she said. “And he’s really mean and jealous. I should think he’ll kill you when he finds you with me.”

"Is he Starfleet too?" The man started to laugh at her with snide mockery, but he paused for a moment. "No, you're telling the truth. Starfleet and a vengeful killer? Huh. Is he on the take for someone? I wonder..." Scratching his chin, he thought for a moment. "Maybe he might be worth something to the Black Nagus too."

Sophie scoffed. “I doubt it,” she said. “He’s just some dumb- I mean… I mean yes!” she amended, seemingly getting an idea mid sentence. “He’s probably very valuable! You could probably get twice as much as you would for me!”

"No, I wouldn't," the Listener said. "You can't lie to me. Your boyfriend is probably some halfwit officer on his last chance before a court-martial. If he shows up, I'll sell him to the Black Nagus or kill him if he's too much trouble." Only with great effort did he hold back his amusement. "If I ask your name, you'd probably just lie. Maybe I should check the missing person reports."

“Why would I volunteer any information?” she retorted. “Call me whatever you want, as long as it’s respectful.”

The Listener chuckled. "Sure. I'll be right back." In but a moment, he returned with a display screen in hand. "I need a facial recognition analysis of this human."

"Not so fast," said a nasally voice that was characteristically Feregni. "What's the pass code?"

"You know me," the Listener said. "Just do it. I won't even haggle the rate."

"Pass code," the Ferengi on the other end insisted. "Or I end this transmission and take you off Aquisitioner Gwyn's list of approved agents."

Sighing, the Listener said, "Fine. Val-eff gooblatrupyob. Can you please do what I asked now?"

"Fine..." The huffy Ferengi said. "Turn the screen around."

When the screen flipped, the Ferengi's face showed up with several tattoos and a gilded headdress. He looked entirely disinterested in the task at hand until the scan results came back. "The Black Nagus accepts your terms," he said dispassionately, but the twitch of his lobes gave away his subdued excitement.

"Worth a fortune, huh?" The Listener grinned and rubbed his chin. "What if there were two?"

The Ferengi scowled. "If this is a trick, El-Aurian..."

"No trick, no trick!" the Listener insisted. "She says her boyfriend is a tough guy. If he comes looking for her, then I'll truss him up and have him ready for delivery as well."

"Good enough," the Ferengi said. "Don't gleb this up. Acquisitioner Gwyn has a debt to settle and you won't want to be caught in the red ledger."

"I understand," the Listener said. "I'll await contact."

The transmission ended with a broad grin on the Listener's face. "Sounds like you're going to be one hell of a payday," he boasted.

For her part, Sophie tried not to look surprised. Who on earth could possibly be willing to pay ANYTHING for her? Not her parents, for sure. They didn’t have any Latium. And Starfleet didn’t pay ransoms. She carefully scowled at the Listener, trying to look menacing.

"Any way I can get your boyfriend's attention? I could use another--"

Before the Listener could finished, he was cut off by a falling object that made him a head shorter. It splattered his head and split his upper body like a banana peel, leaving him dead on his feet before the off-center weight of what appeared to be a small boulder made his body topple.

"Good drop, Jaglikar!"

The rapid decent of the Pakled shuttle allowed Sophie to hear the tail end of their cheering. Whatever forcefield security measures in place around the perimeter apparently did not obstruct a falling rock. Jumping out of the hovering shuttle, the Pakleds quickly came to Sophie's forcefield containment and applied a makeshift disruption device to dampen its power.

"You're coming back with us!" Jaglikar shouted while the others worked. The sound of the shuttle's propulsion threatened to drown out his words.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?!?!” demanded Sophie, shocked at being sprayed with brains and blood. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!?!”

Jaglikar the Pakled leader ordered Sophie restrained once more and pushed back onto the shuttle. "The Listener wanted to steal our salvage, so we dropped a rock on him." His tone was that of a man bragging about a brilliant improvisation.

“Your solution to him kidnapping YOUR kidnap victim was to kill him,” stated Sophie as if it was the most obviously dumb thing anybody had ever done in all of the history of forever. “So not only are you stupid, but you’re assholes to boot. Great!” she added, a bit hysterically. “I’ve been kidnapped by idiot assholes.”

The Pakleds snorted in unison. "And don't you forget it!" Jaglikar yelled. "In you go."

Once the door to the shuttle closed, the roar of the engines were silenced enough to hear normally. The Pakleds were arguing amongst one another, more in grunts than words.

"We sell the Vulcan pretender to the Listener's people!"

"No, we take her back to the clumpship for ransom!"

Various grunting iterations followed in a circular argument that showed no signs of going anywhere.

“Are you seriously going to take this thing into space without any modifications?” she demanded. “At least let me fix it first.”

"No spluk," said the piloting Pakled.

"Yeah, like Wungard said," spat Jaglikar, "no spluk. You will begin modifications as soon as we get back to the hidey hole. First you tell us what pieces you need, then we get you the pieces, and then you add the pieces. Understand?"

Sophie scowled. “It’s gonna cost a fortune to put this thing in good shape,” she muttered. “I hope you have a lot of credits.”

"Credits are not a problem." Just before the shuttle landed, Jaglikar opened the hatch, shoved the two dissenting Pakleds onto the ground, and directed the pilot Wungard to land on them. When the shuttle landed, there wasn't even a squish. "Sagtrid and Pumtin won't be needing their shares of the haul."

Sophie mentally kicked herself for not thinking of pushing all of them out of the shuttle. Too late now. But this was good. Fewer captors meant it would be easier to escape. And she would have to escape because nobody knew she was missing. Nobody would be looking for her. She was on her own. “Okay,” she said after a deep breath. “I’ll need a PADD. Or something to make notes on, anyway. And as many tools as you have.”

The remaining Pakleds double-checked Sophie's restraints and led her behind the cabin where they had kept her. Jaglikar pointed at a scrap heap. "You have a hyperspanner and whatever you can scavenge here. Tell us whatever you need and we will find it. Get to work!"

Sophie took one look at the pile and sighed. Most of it looked unusable. But, she could pretend to be sorting through it while she thought of a way to escape. “This is gonna take a week,” she muttered as she picked up the first piece.

"Then what are you standing around for?!" Jaglikar yelled.

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