Transporter Room - Away Team

[sehlatbear]

Spock eyed his companion - this counterpart had seen only the briefest glimpse of sickbay and the confines of the room he shared with Pike. But Spock would not question the Acting Captain's order to include him. He would be of benefit, particularly with his practical knowledge of Romulans and their ways

Comments

[mirror_brightly]

Kirk was just where he'd been left, slumped and bleeding across the grates. The walls were dead around him, distracted, and Nero watched the bend of Klivam red lamps as they snapped on before him and off in his wake. There was no green, it pooled somewhere else, somewhere around the hitrrna.

"Come now, James," Nero whispered low as he knelt. The teral'n was heavy in his hand, heavier than Kirk as Nero gripped his arm and dragged him up from the floor. Kirk dangled, listless and still, his slow pulse knocking against his throat and the grief there.

"We're not done yet," Nero promised quietly and slung the human over his shoulder, balancing Kirk's weight at the curve of his hip. "And Narada is hungry."

[mirroredspock]

He led then down the pathway through the flickering lights and the noises of a living ship. He stopped, motioned for James T. Kirk's silence.

There was movement ahead, a voice.

In the twilight of the Narada's depths, Spock shifted his weight on his feet and smiled.

[mirror_brightly]

Nero moved against the walls, quick and slipping through flickering red. Kirk's breathing jarred with his steps, slipping slumber and pain through his teeth. Sound carried when Narada was distracted, it bounced back at him. The halls shifted and the grates vanished away with the red lamps, plunging him into the darkness of what was left, the last deck of the Narada as she was. Above him, the slanted writing had been absorbed, but he could taste the jade in it.

Environmental control.

"Abrai cutaes."

Narada was slow, and the air through the vents came to a slipping halt as the deck creaked. The bay access had been crushed, twisted and mangled. The etrevon wires ground it free and melted it with the old bridge, brought it all together in a bramble of glass and steel. It glittered, cold and black, as metal ground against digital sounds and the access twisted open.

"Eihva fell down there," Nero whispered low to the unconscious Kirk's side. "Can you see her?" He backed up a step and ran, jumping across the broad gap in the floor. Kirk

[mirroredspock]

Spock followed, slipping in silence, pulling the human along behind him. James T. Kirk was not entirely inept, and his noises were lost in the ship's own sounds.

Glimpses of his prey were infrequent but Spock caught enough to see: Romulan, grief tattoos on his visible skin, the young Kirk they had been sent to retrieve - tortured thoroughly and tattooed himself. Fascinating.

The Romulan had disappeared into the darkness on the other side of the gap in the floor. He would not follow unprepared into such darkness.

He motioned for James T. Kirk to remain hidden.

And then Spock calmly walked to the edge of the floor and revealed himself.

Jolan'tru.

Easy and calm until the time for such was past.

He spared a thought for Christopher, relayed the information and situation to him.

[mirror_brightly]

He could taste them, slipping through the shadows, breathing Rihann air. The chain slipped across Kirk's arm, caught on his neck and Nero scowled sliding it underneath, clamping it off with biting haste. It wouldn't due for Kirk to suffocate, not like this, not yet. The outside was banging to get in, the distant hum of remembered forcefields rang in Nero's ears as he kicked the panel. The chain went taut in the darkness and lifted Kirk away, swinging his weight high with mechanical teeth.

"You come to steal from me," Nero announced in slow standard, the void in this throat alinged with the darkness here. It was his. His eyes twisted through the shade, toward the Klivam halls and he saw him. Spock. A laugh tore free from his throat, bubbling and harsh, and he edged toward the gap, his feet silent on the metal. The teral'n clanged hard against the floor at his side, ready and waiting.

"Liorae, rhede." The Narada whispered hot and cold against his skin, the silence hard edged with the extinguished vents. Above him, the amber lights

[mirroredspock]

"I am not fond of waiting."

Kirk was actually in the best possible place for a confrontation like this: tucked up out of the way.

He shifted his weight, ready, assessing.

Eager. Hungry.

[mirror_brightly]

"Maihi," Nero commented idly and canted his head to the side, sliding his eyes down this tense Vulcan in a long sweep. "It is an attribute not shared by your counterparts, unfortunately."

He twisted his wrist and the teral'n jumped to life, snapping out in barbs and lines as stark and striking as the Narada's teeth. His fingers twisted and he sneered openly at the Vulcan.

"Rhuissa, if you want to go first, I will accomodate you. I have wasted enough time on Kirk."

[mirroredspock]

Spock surveys the distance. He can easily jump it. He does, lands crouched and ready.

A slight smile slides across his cold face.

"I am told my sense of humor is a significant part of my charm."

[mirror_brightly]

"It's really not," Nero responded flat and hard, breathed through his teeth. Without words, he drew back, limbs and torso tensed in coils, and lashed forward. He struck with the speed of a viper, of a klivam beast. The teral'n snapped out, gnashing teeth against Rihann air and twisted toward the Vulcan. His foot fell hard as he extended, his fury caught up in his arms.

[original_fine]

Thus far, Jim judged, Nero had not noticed him. Or rather, was giving him no notice. Which was all for the best. Spock was not expendable to him--no Spock was--but Jim had not become captain by worrying that his crew could not perform their duties, even in the extreme.

Kirk looked in a bad way, barely breathing, but alive. The tattoos. Jim's skin smarted again, whether at the memory or another shared jolt of pain, he was not certain, but now he knew. The buzzing under his skin, along with everything else. The way Kirk's hand crumpled unnaturally at his side.

Nothing else was visible, for the blood and ink.

Jim crept around. He would wait, let Spock distract Nero, and jump himself. Get to the panel. Find the mechanism, and release Jim back to him.

Spock. Found Jim. Spock is confronting Nero. I'm going to try to free him.

Was he skilled enough, yet, for his metal voice to bridge the distance between them?

[sehlatbear]

The message is a dim flicker at the back of his consciousness, focused as he is on the Narada. Spock spares a moment for it, understands it, responds.

Careful. Sentient ship. Communicating.

He trusts that Jim - that his captain - will understand.

[mirroredspock]

The Romulan had all but sent Spock an engraved notice of his movement.

Spock dodged, drawing his own favorite knife, a small thing, meant more for close fighting.

He likes it up close and personal, hot breath and anger bleeding over him - and then of course the actual blood bleeding over him as well.

As the Romulan's momentum carries him past, Spock strikes out.

First blood, though not quite the hamstringing a perfect strike would have earned. It had been too long.

His blood sang.

[mirror_brightly]

Nero seethed as fire split up the side of his thigh, twisting and clawing at his hip. His arm was past the Vulcan, twisting up in the air, and he brought it down, the weight of the teral'n crashing against the darkness at his side. The grates resounded and Nero twisted, pulling his leg back as copper curled in the still air. The base of the teral'n scraped hard against metal and he swung back at the Vulcan, hard and sharp.

[mirroredspock]

The metal smacked against Spock's palms and sent a sharp stinging sensation through him.

He enjoyed it.

He wrenched at the weapon, intent on disarming his enemy.

[mirror_brightly]

Nero's shoulder wrenched with the weapon, the feel of powerful opposition was rare, remembered, and it brough a grin to his face even as the teral'n slipped free from his fingers. Spock stabbed at him and he flipped his foot up, struck the length of the weapon, and jarred it hard, twisting it free from the Vulcan's grip. It slid across the grates, metal against metal and vanished through the gaping silence in the floor.

The sound of the weapon hitting jade was drown out as Nero lashed forward and cracked his balled fist against Spock's temple.

[mirroredspock]

It would be a shame to kill this one. It had been too long, too much time trapped with humans, even training with Christopher was nothing compared to combat with an equal. No restraint to his strength, his speed, his ruthless nature.

Spock was aware of James T. Kirk edging forward, bridging the gap with his own leap.

He forced himself forward, despite the ring of pain in his head, aiming his glinting blade at his opponent's gut.