Updated: Apr 21
Brie sat in her cell and listened. Listened to everything. The stupid grunting of the huge Klingon. The flirtatious advances of the Orion. The incessant yelling of the Tellerite. The snarls and swabbings of the Gorn couple. And the silence of the Captain.
But it wasn't silence. It was anything but. The man rambled and showboated. But he had nothing to say. Nothing added to the conversation. And, more importantly, Brie noticed, that he revealed nothing of his plans. Nothing at all. Under the external flamboyance, was a clever man, a man who seemed to know the worth of the cargo he had in his brig. Brie could not piece together any parts of his speech to form anything of meaning, like puzzle pieces cut wrong. So Brie did what she had been trained to do. She waited. Her mind flickered back to the academy, where she had been told to lie in wait for days to intercept a convoy. The mission was a success. When she had to look down the barrel of a sniper rifle for hours, waiting for her target to move, just so, so she could take him out with no further casualties. The mission was a success. When she had to sit for seconds for her jet to come out of a roll, so she could manoeuvre it just right to prevent it from breaking up in flight. The mission was a success. Patience was the key to success for a MACO officer. Patience. And a bit of luck.
As luck would have it, her patience paid off when the lumbering Klingon entered the brig, very drunk.
"Umuk like human lady," he stated, as he lowered the forcefield around her brig. "Umuk will grant her the honour of his body,"
The Klingon walked drunkenly towards her, the lust dripping from his eyes. Brie looked at him wide-eyed. This would not be pretty. As he moved to grab her, she took her chance. Diving under his outstretched arms and between his thick legs, she rolled out of the brig and jammed her finger into the button that she had seen Umuk press many times to deliver her food. The forcefield was erected just in time. The drunk Klingon had turned and was charging her down, grinning. Evidently, Umuk liked his ladies on the fiesty side. He bounced off the forcefield and staggered backwards.
"Klingons are not my type," she muttered. "Too vanilla," she smirked before turning to leave. Umuk's loud roar stopped her in tracks. "Maldito idiota," she cursed and pressed herself against the door, as Umuk continued to yell and stomp.
"NO NEED TO BRAG YOU BONE RIDGED FOOL, WE ALL KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING. SAVE SOME FOR ME!" Brie heard the Tellerite say as he entered. "FORGET IT, I'LL JOIN YOU, PLENTY FOR THE BOTH OF US," the Tellerite neared the brig. "HEY..."
"That's me you're talking about!" Brie snapped from behind him, pressing the button to lower the force field as she dropkicked the Tellerite in the chest. The small creature flew backwards into the brig, crashing into the Klingon and sending them both sprawling onto the floor. Brie quickly turned the forcefield back on and walked over to them. "You're right. Plenty for the both of you," she shook her head and gave them the middle finger, before running out of the door. From what she had seen of the ship when the doors had opened, and what she had heard, she knew she was towards the back of the ship. The medbay was in front of her, the transporter pad to her right, opposite the turbolift. She could see the bridge at the opposite end of the corridor. That's where she headed.
Her eyes glanced through the doors to the mess where she could see the two Gorn passed out on the table. Well, that made things easier for her. She carried on running towards the bridge.
As soon as she entered, the centre chair swivelled around and Henry stared straight at her, a golden D'k tahg in his hands, using the edge of it to clean his nails.
"Miss Valencia," he stated simply. His voice was formal, very unlike the way she had heard him speak. "Teale," he commanded and Brie saw the Orion lady detach herself from the side of the room and point a pistol at her.
"Mierda," she spat.
"I do not know Spanish, I believe that is, but I can imagine what you said," Henry's smile was wide and bright. "Now you have realised the situation, I believe it would be best for you to return to your cell,"
"No thank you, my cell is occupied by your rather aroused crew, I wouldn't want to disturb their time together,"
Henry threw his head back and laughed. "I did forget to warn you, the brig is the only place on the ship which is soundproofed. Well, that and my quarters," he smirked. "You are welcome to return there, whilst your cell is occupied,"
"Thanks, but I'll pass. I'm married," Brie replied
"Well, he's a lucky man. We will be reuniting you to him shortly. If you behave,"
"I have trouble behaving. It's the wild streak in me,"
Henry licked his lips. "Well... I'm not sure which one of you is hotter right now, the Orion or the Human,"
"I'll give you a hint, it's me," Brie responded and then leapt sideways at the Orion who had looked away from her to Henry at his last statement. The two collapsed to the floor in a heap, the gun sliding towards the door. Brie was up again in an instant and reached forward to grab the gun. Almost instantly, she felt a sharp pain in her hand. From it, was a the golden D'k tahg, embedded into her. She looked at it with a bit of shock.
"Reckless and brash. I had expected better from Starfleet," he shook his head at her. "Women. So pretty and pathetic,"
Her head snapped towards the man at the sexist insult. "You don't know women," Brie said angrily and pulled the blade out of her hand, staring the man down as she did so. Then she picked up the pistol in her injured hand and stood up, gripping the gun tightly despite the pain, so the blood didn't cause it to slip from her hand. She pointed it at him. "Have some respect, if not for me, then for the woman who raised you, you bastard,"
Henry grinned. "So you can swear in English," he said. Before Brie knew it, he was holding two pistols in his hands and fired them at her. She rolled backwards into the corridor, as the space around her filled with the green flashes of the disruptor shots. She glanced around as the shots subsided. This was her chance. Pushing herself from the floor, she squeezed the trigger with some difficulty and pain, firing a blast at the open door to the bridge and bolted down the corridor. She had never run so fast in her life. As she got to the turbolift, the corridor erupted with green disruptor fire.
"Down!" she yelled. "Bottom deck!" she said off the top of her head. The turbolift complied. The doors shut and the turbolift whizzed down for two seconds.
"Deck 3," it stated.
Brie didn't question it and stepped out awed at the sight. The entire deck, was a large cargo bay. There were pieces of salvage, boxes, tanks, crates of all kinds. The turbolift closed behind her and whizzed up again. She didn't have much time to take cover behind one of the pieces of wreckage (she realised it was Starfleet), before the lift opened again. She could see Henry, the Orion, the Klingon and the Tellerite, all there, all armed. She took the first shot before they split up. It was easy enough. Down went the Orion. Brie spent no time admiring her handiwork. She was darting through the cargo bay, using the clattering of their heavy boots to aid her in her maze. She clambered onto some boxes, and watched as the Tellerite walked down the makeshift aisle, oblivious to her. For the second time that day, the Tellerite found himself at the butt end of her shoes as she lept down onto him, kicking his head as she landed. The Tellerite was thrown backwards into the crates. Brie didn't check to see if he was dead, or merely unconscious. She didn't really care. She just had the drunk Klingon and the crack shot Captain to deal with.
She met the former first, running into him as she moved. The Klingon was silent for his size. This time however, he did not grab her. She opened fire at point blank range. To be fair to the Klingon, it took Brie around five shots to bring him down. But down he went. Brie stepped over the body in search of her last quarry. She found him, by the turbolift. He had obviously let everyone else do his dirty work.
"Living up to your reputation, I see," he said, calmly. "MACO are usually the best to kill. It takes a great deal of effort, but it's worth the bragging rights,"
"You are not killing me," Brie said defiantly, and shot the man.
Henry was too fast, ducking and discharging his two pistols at her. Brie dropped the gun and forward rolled, towards him. This movement took him by surprise and he found himself being charged at by a rather enraged Columbian with a blood-stained knife. He leaned back as the knife missed his throat and dropped his own weapons, grabbing Brie's arm.
Brie spun around, her arm still held by the man. He was strong though and the more she tugged, the tighter she could feel his grip. With no other choice, she dropped her weapon and snapped around, screaming in pain as her shoulder popped. The move took the man off guard, and with Brie now standing behind him, he felt his knees give way as she jammed her own knee into the back of his. He let go of Brie's dislocated arm and crumpled to the floor. He turned to face her and was rewarded by a shoe pressing down on his neck. Her working arm clutched at her limp one.
"Pop it back in, it'll save you the pain," Henry muttered, very conscious of the shoe on his trachea.
"What?" Brie spat at him through the pain.
"Reach outwards and then towards your opposite shoulder. It'll pop the shoulder back in..."
Brie looked at him. This man was trying to kill her seconds ago. Nevertheless, she did as he instructed. The shoulder popped back in with a sharp pain and a snap.
"Told you," he smirked. "As much as I love your feet, I'd rather it not on my neck, if you know what I mean?"
"Shut. Up," Brie snapped at him. She lifted her foot off his neck, and kicked him in the head. Using the time he was dazed, she picked up the fallen gun.
"Thank... you... would have... sufficed," he moaned, holding his head.
"Get up," Brie pointed the gun at him.
"You've got such a beautiful accent..."
"Get up!" Brie yelled.
"Alright, alright," Henry responded, climbing to his feet and staggering slightly. "I just want to say, there's really not enough room in the brig for all of us,"
"Too bad," Brie replied.
Minutes later, with all the crew crammed in the cell, and her wounds treated as best she could in the sickbay, Brie walked to the bridge and sat at the helm.
"Okay..." she whispered to herself. "This can't be too difficult to learn. It's time to go home," she pressed a few buttons before stopping. "¡La chimba!" she chuckled. "This ship has a cloak! Engaged!" she pushed it and looked out of the viewscreen. The ship cloaked. Brie looked down at the console and frowned. "Well... that was... anticlimatic. It looks so much better from the outside..." she shook her head. "Anyway. Let's go home," Brie plotted in a course and set the ship to warp. It did exactly that.