82: The Cold Sting

by Ensign Warren Dalca
80113.00

--=Two Weeks Ago: The Beta Rigel System, Rigel X Trade Outpost=--


The explosion tore a hole the size of a runabout along the southeastern wall of the trading outpost.

Chunks of frozen rock were flung into the chasms on each side of the outcropping, and the smoke billowed upward against the beating snowstorm.

A Klingon leapt onto the slick, icy surface with reckless abandon and slid to a stop near the edge.

He looked to each side, his long, curled hair whipping around as he did so, and spotted the familiar dark shape on the closest peak. With the strength of his legs, he leapt up and grabbed the ledge to his side.

Ensign Warren Dalca jumped through the quickly dying fire, sliding on the new sheen of ice as well. He favored his right arm, holding it to his side. Blood clotted along a blistering cut on his shoulder, and the torso of his uniform jacket was half torn off. He felt the cold air immediately.

Seeing the approaching ledge, he fell back and spread his arms to come to a stop. Chunks of snow broke loose at his feet and joined the blizzard's flurry into the dark depths of the planet's canyon.

He spun around, and caught sight of a foot disappearing over the ledge.

Cursing under his breath, he carefully picked himself up and stepped to the wall face. He could see the outline of a small transport in the distance above. Karn lumbered towards it.

Warren coiled himself, then leapt, grabbing the edge with his hands. He started to pull himself up, felt his grip loosen, then fell back down to the ice, grunting.

"Not enough time," he muttered. The security officer tapped his commbadge. "Dalca to Mockingbird." Still no signal. "Damn it."

It was his fault for suggesting a sting in the middle of a smuggler's haven. There were probably two dozen autonomous jamming units already activated. It looked like he wouldn't be getting any help. And it was getting cold, fast. Even with the protections his uniform offered, he wouldn't be able to remain in these temperatures much longer.

Dalca eyed the shadowy vehicle in the distance once more, guessing it was roughly twenty meters away. The Klingon was almost at the transport.

"Not... on my watch."

Pulling his phaser from it's holster, he switched the setting to maximum. Holding it out at arm's length and steadying himself, he eyed the transport once more, and fired directly beneath it.

The beam hit the icy rock face, turning it into steam and molten slag. Snow vaporized against it with a furious hiss, and the vehicle fell out of sight. Dalca stopped firing, then changed the setting to heavy stun.

As the vehicle tumbled, the sound of metal against rock grew louder. Breaking out of the thinned wall, the vehicle veered directly toward him. Backpedaling, Warren felt unstable ground beneath him.

"Not good."

He flung himself against the ledge wall, and the vehicle tumbled past him and down into the chasm. He lost his grip on the phaser and heard it scatter aside. A tight grunt turned his attention to Karn, who'd just leapt down bodily to the surface, and slouched over.Dalca was nothing if not charitable.

"Will you surrender now?"

"Luq HoH SoH, toDSaH!" The Klingon spat on the ground.

The Ensign slapped the side of his head twice. Great. The universal translator did have to be broken, didn't it? Regardless, it appeared he had no intent to give up. And he was pretty sure that last word was a curse. "Back at you."

Then, Karn picked up Dalca's phaser and pointed it at him. The phaser fired, and Dalca tried to jump out of the way, but still felt the brunt of it as he landed on his bad arm. He stifled a yell by biting into his shoulder, and slumped to the ground, curling up.

The Klingon eyed the phaser with annoyance, then moved toward the gaping metal wound of the trade complex exterior and peered inside. Then, trudging toward the ensign, he picked Dalca up by his collar and lifted him off the ground. He barely felt it as the cold seeped in, to the bone.

"How... about... now?" He pushed the words out through gritted teeth.

"Hah! Hahahaha!" Karn shook his head, pulled a nasty Klingon blade from its place on his back. "Qa'pla."

Dalca coughed and managed a smile, moving his tongue against the false molar cap in the back of his mouth. Loosing it, he depressed twice with his tongue, and then spit the cap at the Klingon's face. It hit him, then fell to the ground. Even in the flurry of snow, he could see the blinking light coming from it.

"Nuq..?"

And then Dalca and his prize disappeared in a shimmer of light. The Klingon blade fell to the ice, and Rigel X became nothing more than an afterthought.


---------------------------------
Ens. Warren Dalca
Security Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

NRPG: On behalf of myself, Salvek, and the rest of the crew, a hearty welcome aboard to you, Mr. Dalca! I have a feeling you're going to fit in just fine around here! ~ZL