Red lichen tried to grow on the cold gray stone, its color bringing the only warmth to the cliff, but making the task of finding handholds even harder. Ren felt along the edge of rock, then reached back to the rosin bag that hung from her belt to help her grip. Carefully she pulled herself up, ignoring the cold that numbed her hands and the wind that drew the warmth from her sweaty muscles.

If she had looked down she would have seen four other climbers, each spaced out safely and climbing at their own pace- and below them, far below, was the camp that they had left behind for this training exercise. Ren had no need to look below. When she climbed her mind washed every detail in extraordinary perception. Every sense seemed to expand; colors sharpened; smells separated into elements; she was aware of the climbers below and the two above; and she could feel her muscles move in a relaxed effort that was its own sensation. The task of climbing was pure in its purpose- find the next hold and move up. Where else did life become that basic, that clear?

Silva was in the lead, and he had reached the overhang. He would set the pitons and islets that would hold their safety ropes. They would literally have to hang by their finger tips as they moved along the underside of the outcrop to get around and over it.

Ren balanced on her toes, leaning into the vertical rock, to rest for a second. She looked above to choose the next line of ascent to the overhang. For a moment she admired Silva's technique. He had a streamlined strength that made his holds look deceptively effortless, but the sweat streak darkening the back of his shirt told its own story. With a deep breath of cool air she moved on.

Silva and the second climber, Ensign Smart, were around and over the overhang now. On the ledge that the other side of the outcrop created, there was enough room for three or four people to sit and relax before tackling the final ascent. Ren relished the thought of reaching it. Her arms and stomach muscles ached from clinging to the underside of the rock. Her fingers had gone beyond aching.

"Nearly there, Carstairs," Silva called from above. He was guiding the safety rope from above, keeping it clear of snagging or tangling. "I got a nice soft rock picked out for that pretty little butt of yours to rest on when you get here," he goaded. Silva's style of command was unique. He led by example, but when that wasn't enough, he used his quirky sense of humor to spur his team on.

"Soft rock my ass!" Ren muttered under her breath- not quietly enough. "Exactly what I said, Carstairs; though, I think I said it with a little more class."

She forced her arms to pull a little harder. Breath held tightly into her chest, staining with her abdominal muscles as well as her legs, she lunged the last foot and brought her shoulders above the edge. Silva was there with a hand thrust out to help her the last bit.

"Good job!" he praised. "Take a breather. It will be a little while before anyone else reaches the overhang. As soon as you've rested, I'll send you and Smart on up. I want to be here to see how each person handles this overhang." She nodded and leaned back against the cliff-face to rest, wiping sweat out of her eyes. "And drink some water, but only a little," he finished.

----------------

Smart moved slowly but steadily above her. They were using a natural crevice to work their way up the last leg of the climb. The ensign came from Gastar, a rain-forest world, and had never climbed rock before this training. In the past few weeks she had learned a great deal- and excelled at it- but she needed more confidence in her new abilities. Ren suspected that was why Captain Silva had sent Smart on up in the lead.

The sharp staccato of rock on rock simultaneous with Nancy's cry of suprise, were her only warnings before something struck her in the forehead. Pain caved in all perception of her surroundings! Blackness engulfed her sight and a sickening green rim surrounded the black. Something liquid and warm poured into her eyes, making it impossible to focus anyway. A wave of dizziness swept her off the rock, backwards, into nothingness!

She knew on some level that she had made a major mistake letting go of her hold. She could feel herself falling, but couldn't tell which direction she fell. A voice of reason said that gravity only let you fall 'down.' Her stomach disagreed. Even while these thoughts occurred, she could not force herself to organize their meaning.

The safety rope reached the end of its length and snapped taught! The jerk on the harness around Carstairs' body jarred every bone and tendon. She couldn't get any of her muscles to respond. A second later she crashed into the side of the rock as she swung inward on the line! She felt her ribs break! Agony knifed through her! She dangled helplessly, trying to understand what had happened to her.

"I've got you! I've got you!" a voice shouted. The voice sounded panicked- if it was meant to reassure her, Ren didn't feel too comforted.

The rope swung her back into the rock again. This time the crunch came to her shoulder. Ren blindly reached out, seeking a hold to keep her in place, to ward off another blow.

"Hang on, Carstairs!" a voice, a different voice this time, called. It was firm and controlled, the most solid thing in her universe at the moment. "Hang on!"

"Good advice, too late," she grunted through clenched teeth. She was becoming aware of what had happened. Smart had dislodged a large rock and it had hit her square in the forehead before she could avoid it. She wasn't sure now if she was swinging at the end of a rope or if the sensation was caused by a concussion. Silva was climbing up to her, shouting directions to Nancy Smart, who was locked to her above at the other end of the safety rope.

"Carstairs, can you hear me?!" he shouted.

She tried to orrientate herself in relation to his voice. He was 'down.' "Yes," she tried to say, but she wasn't sure it came out. "Yes," she said again, this time louder.

"Can you move? Are you hurt bad?" Every climber had accidents, no matter how careful or skilled you were. Most you just shook off and got back to the business of climbing. He wouldn't evacuate her unless she were hurt bad.

She was hurt bad. "No. Yes." She tried to answer his questions. Every breath drew icy fire into her chest and tightened a cord of steel around her back. Nausea threatened to choke her.

"Silva to base camp, emergency evacuation of team. Now!" she heard him say from close by. Then she felt relief from all pain, momentarily, as she dissolved in a transporter beam.

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"You evacced the whole team on account of me?" Ren asked in suprise.

She lay in a portable bio-bed in a small service hut back at base camp. The med tech had quickly regenerated her broken ribs and bruises. But she had to stay under observation over night for the concussion. She wasn't going to argue, her head still seemed to try to fall off when she moved it too fast.

Silva leaned against a support post next to her bed. "Well I couldn't be in two places at once," he explained, "I wasn't leaving them alone up there, and I wasn't gonna let you outta my sight until I knew you were OK. You looked like Hell, lieutenant."

"Gee thanks," she smiled.

"What had me worried most, was when you actually admitted you were hurt bad. I know what a tuff lady you are." Admiration shown in his eyes. "I'll tell the others that you're OK, and will rejoin us tomorrow."

"If the doc lets me free." She frowned at the thought of holding the team up while she recuperated. They all had to be prepared one hundred percent.

"If he gives you any trouble, we'll come bust you out." He turned to leave, then hesitated and leaned over her. "I'm glad you're OK, Ren." He brushed a kiss quickly and lightly over her forehead where she had been struck by the rock. She was too suprised to say anything before he was gone.

"Hmm...,"she wondered to herself, "that wasn't exactly a 'Captain' sort of thing to do." A wide grin spread across her lips, and she snuggled lower into her covers to fall asleep.

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A string of descending notes seemed to cascade over her skin. A smile tugged at her lips as she allowed her mind to follow the music- totally isolated in her own cocoon of sensation and thought. A slap on her boot jerked her out of her reverie.

"Hey, Carstairs, listen up." snapped the tall man that sat across the fire from her. She slipped off the headphones and turned the music off.

Six others sat grouped around the flames. All of them, like her, were security personnel that had volunteered for special assignment. She knew them all well after the two months of close living and vigorous work, but here in the dark, with the light coming from the fire casting strange shadows from below, they looked like a sinister clutch of fiends. James Morgan smiled, his youthful face lighting up, and the image was broken.

"We've prepared for weeks for this mission. Now word has come down, we're going in." Tension laced Silva's usually light tones.

"Cap, what new info was the first team able to give us?" Ensign Arlin Dove asked.

"None," Silva looked around the fire, his gaze frank and unflinching. "The first team, the entire team, is MIA." He let his words sink in. "Look people, our mission is the same as it has always been- penetrate the Khynah homeworld and retrieve any information that we can about their preparations and preparedness for war. They represent the largest threat to peace in this sector of space since the Dominion. Little is known about them, ANYTHING we learn could be vital. But this is an extremely dangerous mission- chances are, some of us won't come back. You all volunteered. If any of you want to change your minds, do it now."

Ren waited. Would anyone pull out; Nancy Smart, Dutch Hanrahan, James Morgan, Colm McRainy, Arlin Dove? They were all good people that she genuinely liked. She hated more than anything knowing that any of them was going into danger and might not survive. And Silva; she knew he would never pull out, just as she wouldn't.

No one said a thing. They were all equally determined to complete their mission. "OK, we're as ready as we can be- get some rest. We leave at 0600 tomorrow."

One by one they moved towards their huts. Silva's eyes caught and stared right into Ren. An electric current brushed down her spine- a not unpleasant sensation of awareness pooled in her stomach- but this was not the time. "G'night Captain."

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Ren strapped into the harness on the wall of the LADC (Low Atmosphere Drop Container). A part of her mind argued the insanity of this action. The other half of her mind went through the check list of events about to happen.

To arrive without detection on Den'a, their transport had used the erratic orbit of the fifth planet in the system to hide behind. It shielded them as they moved in-system and closed in on the Khynah home world. Ferr'a would eclipse Den'a very soon, bringing them close enough for their transport ship to eject their LAD pod into orbit of Den'a. The container was designed to withstand impact when dropped from low atmosphere. Even with the modulations made to the design, there was no way of knowing for certain that it would survive being dropped from high planetary orbit, nor the people within it.

Silva double checked the safety straps on each team member, and made sure that the inertial suits they wore were working. Ren grunted as he lashed her straps so tight she could barely breath. Her newly healed ribs protested with a dull ache.

"Hang on this time, Carstairs." He said in a weak try at humor.

The one light overhead blinked. Thirty seconds to drop. Silva strapped himself in. Ren avoided looking at the others. She didn't want to share their fears, or to let her own show in her eyes. This was one of those moments when a person had to find the stillness within and simply wait it out.

Metal clamps opened with the sound of hollow thunks on their container hull. The light turned red overhead, unblinking now. "We are ready for drop." Came the voice from the helm over the com system. "Go." Silva replied. And as simply as that, they were released into space to fall to the desolate planet below. ---------------------------

"As easy as falling out of bed in the morning." Morgan laughed as he unstrapped and fell to the deck that had been the ceiling before. Their container had survived the fall, but landed top down after a rough crash.

"Speak for yourself, Jimmy-boy." Colm McRay growled in ill humor as his straps stuck. The blood was rushing to his head and his reddening face was extremely unhappy. Ren had righted herself and reached out to hand him her knife to cut himself loose. There was no point in saving the straps; they wouldn't be using the pod again. "Thanks," he acknowledged.

Silva had the door open. They each retrieved their gear and moved quickly out. Silva took readings from his tricorder. "No near-by life readings." He looked around.

They had crashed at the base of a wide cliff of red rock, jagged and sun-baked. In every other direction visible from their position, there was nothing but a vast plane split by lava flows and steaming pools. "Welcome to the 'Famed Health Spa of Den'a,'" Dutch quipped.

"Nancy, best guess, where'd we hit?" Silva asked.

Smart consulted her tricorder. "Best guess," she replied, "near the Planes of Den'e ahwa. But we could be near any plane. I'm just going on the little we know of the planet and our estimated trajectory."

Silva looked around, his gaze hard as he squinted against the glare of the blue-star sun. "OK, lets get up high and take a look around. Smart, Hanrahan, Dove, break the gear up into packs for climbing. Be ready in ten to move out. Carstairs, Morgan, McRay, help me bury the pod."

The view from the top of the cliff wasn't much better. More of the plain was revealed. Ren doubted anything could live out there. The ground looked unstable. Lava and steam pools formed in every depression.

"My Catholic grandmother used to threaten me with Hell when I was bad," Colm McRay commented as he looked over the planes, "Good thing she'd never heard of Den'a." He was right, the scene was worse than any description of hellfire Ren had ever heard.

In the other direction bluffs of rock cut off some of the horizon. The land seemed to rise into low hills. It looked equally desolate, but the ground looked stable; at least there were no lava fissures visible.

A flash of light reflecting off of something in the distance caught Ren's attention. "What's that?"

"Where?" Silva held distance viewers to his eyes, tracking in the direction she had indicated, "I see it. A building, I think. Yeah, several buildings. Too far for detail. We'll have to move closer to see anything. We need to put some distance between us and the landing site anyway, just in case we were seen."

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It was dusk when they reached the outskirts of the buildings they had spotted. They could not risk being seen, so they skirted the buildings' perimeter and continued roughly west. As darkness approached, they could see lights from some settlement in that direction. Hills hid the actual settlement, but the light reflected off the atmosphere, blotting out the first evening stars. It had to be a large settlement to create that much light pollution.

They were all exhausted by the time Silva called a halt and ordered them to make camp. Silva himself took first watch while the rest fell asleep within minutes. Light barely crested the horizon when Arlin shook her awake and handed her a plastic package of nutri-solution for breakfast. Ren sipped it and tried to ignore its gritty texture as it slid down her throat. It tasted of nothing, but it was full of vitamins and calories. Its designers said a human could live indefinitely on the stuff. Ren was sure a person would kill themselves if they were faced with a lifetime of only NS to eat.

"NS, nutri-solution, noxious stuff, normally sucks, nasty shit," Jimmy murmured as he sucked his packet, his list of adjectives beginning with 'n' and 's' growing with each swallow. The others all ignored him. Morgan was generally talkative in the mornings, and looked for things to complain about. Though, in Ren's thoughts, you didn't have to look far to complain about nutri-slime.

The sun was half way to its zenith when they crested a rise and saw the shuttle port. The light they had been heading towards the night before had not been a settlement at all. It was a major base of activity for shuttles and ships leaving Den'a. Most were small craft, perhaps crewing a hundred people. Some were larger craft that looked like they were built for speed and power. All of them looked like battle ships, which was no suprise given the Khynah's preoccupation with acquiring other cultures' assets.

Then Dove pointed to the tarmac opposite their position. A ship the size of the Voyager Class Federation ships, lay spread against the heat waves like a cat basking in the sun. Its hull shown black and cool against the red dust of Den'a. Streaks of angry stylized fire were emblazoned near its engines. Its design was all angles, a jagged blade meant for the stars.

Ren shuddered, remembering the people who had killed her friends and crew mates at the Space Station only months ago. In a flash, she relived her personal fight in the Jeffries tubes and corridors of that battle ground. The young Khynah woman, a girl really, who had relentlessly pursued her and nearly killed her, the vicious attacks of others on civilians, the merciless carnage of it all- the heart of the Khynah people was like the ship before them; cold, black, and deadly.

No one could find anything to say for a moment. It was McRay who broke the silence, "If looks could kill, that monster doesn't need phasers. Have you ever seen a meaner lookin' ship?"

Silva ignored the comment. "I'd say we have our answer." His eyes sough Ren's, and in them she read the death of hope. "The Khynah are more than prepared for war."

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For two days they observed the space port. No one came near their hiding post, and the only living thing they saw away from the space port, was an indigenous mollusk that reminded Ren of a giant pill bug from her child hood. It would crawl into their shadows as if seeking relief from the heat, and if they didn't shoo it away, it would seek moisture on their skin. The creatures were harmless, but pretty repulsive.

They knew for certain that the ship would be launched any time now. Once that ship was launched there would be no hope for peace, because it could only exist for one purpose, to attack the Federation.

It was almost sun set now. In twelve hours their own ship would be in a position to receive a locator signal from them so that they could be transported back aboard. Then it would be a run for all their lives back into secure Federation space, because there would be no way to hide their signal from the Khynah. They only had to stay hidden twelve more hours, and then they would be pulled back to safety and be able to report their find to the Federation. Twelve hours seemed like eternity.

Ren looked over at her team mates, one at a time. James Morgan, Jimmy, looked older than he had two days ago. His baby face wore lines around the eyes now, from staring into the glaring distance at the field below, watching the activity and for detection. His humor seemed to have drained away too. Arlin Dove was more withdrawn than ever, his brown hands continuously sought the charm he wore at his neck, an unconscious need for security. He caught her staring and she gave him a friendly smile. Nancy Smart seemed little changed. Her no nonsense manner and brisk movements still intact, like a shell over her emotions. Colm McRay took his watch, then sat separate from the rest writing something he kept personal on a PADD he kept in his pants pocket. Dutch Hanrahan watched over all of them, making sure that they each ate their rations of tasteless goo and slept when not on watch, alternately encouraging them to drink water to stave off dehydration and cautioning them to ration the precious liquid. He reminded her of a mother hen. It annoyed the others, and Colm McRay had angrily told him to take a flying leap more than once, but Ren figured that he worried about the team in order not to worry about the bigger problems facing them. She could feel her own tension mounting as time passed. They hadn't really counted on being in one spot this long. Finding the station had been sheer luck, or had it?

Silva looked through the distance viewer again. Of them all, he seemed least shocked by their find, as if he had somehow known what they would find. She stood up and went to kneel beside him at the crest of the hill.

"Any change?"

"More activity around the ship, looks like the final stages before launch."

"Did you know?" She asked the one question that wouldn't leave her alone.

He looked directly at her, not pretending to misunderstand her, "About the space port, or the ship?"

She shrugged, "Both, I guess."

He set the viewer down and sat facing her. After a moment he sighed and nodded. "The first team got out more than I was able to tell you before leaving. They had pretty much pinpointed the port. We didn't know anything about the ship though."

"We aren't here just to observe, are we?"

"Nope,"

"Care to tell me the rest?"

He didn't answer. Instead he stood up and signaled the others to gather around. "People, we have a judgment call to make here," he started, "We all know what that new ship means- war, no question about it. In about a week the Federation will be sending in the very best negotiators in the Fleet, and they are going to fail, because the Khynah want war. They want it and are ready for it." The looks on every face confirmed what he was saying. "If they weren't ready, maybe the negotiators could convince them to back down, but not," he pointed over his shoulder at the port, "with that ship. They will never back down with that ship!"

Colm asked the question they were thinking, "What's the call you're asking us to make, Cap'n?"

"Can we get rid of the ship? Can we stop them, here, now, and give the Federation time?"

Ren knew that was the crux of the matter, their real mission here- find a way to buy the Federation time; time to study the enemy, time to prepare defenses, time to warn the weaker civilizations near the Neutral Zone and perhaps help them prepare. Time.

"We have twelve hours before we can be pulled out of here. We have to use them to our advantage. I need your input. Can it be done!?" Silva's voice carried confidence in their ability to find a solution. Ren wished she shared that confidence.

The metal against her back seemed to drain her warmth away. As hot as the days were on Den'a, the nights were freezing. Ren looked at the sky overhead, unable to take any comfort in the sight of familiar stars, the lights of the tarmac were too bright to allow any starlight to show, but she could tell from the position of the moon that it was near strike time. Waiting for the signal from Silva was torture.

Footsteps approached. She pressed deeper into the shadows of her hiding place between two cargo crates. The steps neared and sounded as if they would simply continue on. Then Ren heard the sound of an animal snuffling the ground. The sound was close, and drawing closer, leading the owner of the footsteps with it. It stopped, only a few feet away.

"What is it Myso'cs?" A voice asked in the heavy tongue of Khynah. "Have you cornered a lousha?" The animal let out a sound that was a cross between a screech and a purr. Ren instinctively flinched away from the sound.

A nose sniffed around the corner of the crate she was behind. It had a long brown snout, and very long teeth. One yellow eye peered into her shadows. Again the horrible screech-purr rose from the animals throat. It tugged at the cord that its handler was holding securely. Ren moved her arm slowly to bring her phaser to bare on the animal. If it lunged, or pulled its handler into view, she would likely not escape from both creature and master, but one of them would die.

"Hungry, Myso'cs? Shall I let you test yourself on the little lousha?" There was humor in the voice. Suddenly the creature was free of its handler, the cord having been released. It slunk closer to Ren, its eye unblinking.

Something ran across her foot. It was all Ren could do not to scream in surprise. Something small leapt at the face of the large animal that had been watching her intently. It squeaked and dug small claws into the snout of the predator. The larger animal shook its head in rage and backed a step out of the confined space. The small rodent bit viciously at the flesh as it clung onto its head. A scream of pain went up, and the wounded beast used its paw to rake at its face, tearing the small rodent away. The little creature was thrown against the side of the crate near Ren's feet. It looked like it was about to leap on her next. She kicked it before it could attack her the way it had the animal belonging to the Khynah, and it stopped moving, dead presumably.

The large animal was backed clear of her cover, but she could still see it. It was having trouble breathing. She was sure the little rodent had not been able to inflict that much physical damage so quickly. She watched as the animal staggered and fell to its side, panting in distress. The Khynah handler laughed in derision, then kicked the beast when it refused to rise.

"Did you finally learn your lesson, Myso'cs? Those lousha fight with poisoned daggers!"

Now she understood. The rodent's bite was poisonous, and judging by the reaction of the Khynah's animal, it was a fast acting neural toxin. Nervously she wondered how many more of the deadly rodents might be sharing her hiding place. She checked the one she had kicked to make sure it was unmoving still.

The large animal quit breathing on a sigh that was an echo of its former cry. Ren felt a second of pity for the animal, more than its master spared for it. The Khynah kicked the dead beast once more and walked off in disgust.

An explosion rocked the crate she was leaning against in relief! Instinct carried her into a crouched run towards the monster ship that the team was bound to destroy. The explosion had occurred on the opposite side of the tarmac, Silva's signal for their strike and a distraction for the guards on duty. She found the port side docking bay doors and rushed inside the ship. A guard was positioned directly in path. Her phaser knocked him to the ground before his own weapon discharged. She leapt over the body, continuing at a run.

There was no way to know the exact layout of the ship, but there was a certain logic to design that said engineering would have to be near the engines. She headed aft. She hoped that somewhere else the other team members were finding their targets as well.

She nearly collided with another Khynah at the junction of the corridor. Surprise registered on both faces. Then the Khynah had his blade out and swinging towards her neck. Automatic reflexes kicked in even as her senses seemed to slow the moment down. Her right arm blocked his blow, deflecting his blade to the side where it grazed her shoulder. Her left hand fired her phaser at point blank range into his stomach. It happened in barely a second, but she knew the smell of burned flesh would stay with her for much longer. She forced the event out of her mind and pushed on.

She found engineering. There were at least seven Khynah inside. She leaned against the bulk head outside the entrance for a second, desperately trying to think of a way to get inside and stay alive. There were too many of them. "Shit!" she swore to herself. She checked her phaser to make sure it was on its maximum setting. She would never get a second shot at any of her targets. Holding the weapon against her chest and taking a deep breath, she plunged into the room firing.

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Silva ran from the sight of the explosion as quickly as possible. He needed cover fast. Khynah swarmed the area. Some held leashes of lethal looking animals that immediately began to sniff the ground where he had been, tracking his scent.

He gave up on taking cover and decided to run for all his worth. With the Khynah version of hound dogs on his trail, the best he could hope for was to lead them a merry chase and keep them distracted long enough for the team to do their job.

A bolt of energy sizzled into the pavement directly at his heels. He leapt behind a box and rolled, taking the fall on his shoulder and cursing the pain. He rolled back to his feet and changed direction, running towards a building that had the stamp of administration all over its design. There were yells of men and weird calls of excitement from the animals behind him. The chase was taking on the air of sport.

Silva vaulted onto the side of a moving transport, some sort of crane for moving cargo. Its fast pace carried him behind the building and out of sight of his pursuers for a few seconds, and gave him a second to catch his breath. He jumped off and dodged into a maze of warehouses, uncertain which direction to run next. Arbitrarily he chose left.

His lungs were starting to ache from the cold night air. He was going to tire very quickly in the slightly increased gravity of Den'a. He had to find a way of losing those 'dogs'. Would they track only the one scent now that they had been set on his trail, or would they follow anything that smell strange and alien. Without knowing how they were trained or what they were capable of, he could only hope. Stopping at a cross section that led into three other allies between buildings, Silva tore off his pack and ripped out a packet of nutri-solution. The goo was tasteless, but far from odorless. He spread it on the soles of his feet generously, then stuffed the packet back into his pack and ran down the nearest alley.

He dodged a turned until he was sure he was far from the place he had changed his scent. In the distance he could hear the animals baying in their call that was half screech owl and half cat's purr. They sounded like they were quite far off, and not getting any closer. He hoped he had lost them. For a few seconds he leaned against a wall in the shadows to rest his exhausted body. For the moment he felt safe.

"What's this? Not a lousha," a voice from the opposite end of his alley mocked, "but just as troublesome, I'll wager." He stepped into the light and Silva could see the deadly phase weapon trained at his own chest. "Where are the rest of your people?" Silva refused to speak. "So, you think you can hide the others with silence? Not for long. You'll talk." A malicious look of pleasure spread across the Khynah's face. "But not too quickly, I hope."

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Jimmy Morgan wiped the nervous sweat out of his eyes. He had caught a glimpse of Silva running, his figure backlit against the burning flames of the fire he had started on the opposite side of the tarmac. He hoped Silva escaped safely. Geez, he hoped any of them escaped!

Arlin Dove handed him another thermal reactive detonator to attach to the skin of the ship. Dutch Hanrahan was keeping watch. Colm McRay set another detonator a few yards away. They had laced the ship hull with the explosives and were nearly through. If they got a chance to detonate them, the ship would crack open like a nut. Jimmy smiled at that thought. And if they were stopped first, then Ren Carstairs was inside planting an explosive near the warp core. One way or another, this bird was going in the soup!

There was a strangled cry behind them, all the warning they got, then Khynah seemed to be everywhere. Dutch lay on the ground, throat cut in a gory necklace of color. "Don't move!" A Khynah with a bloody blade ordered. Colm tried to take the nearest Khynah to him by surprise. He went down with a knife in his side.

Jimmy looked over at Dove. The hopelessness was clear to both of them. Jimmy squeezed the detonator that he held in his palm, setting off the chain of explosives along the hull of the ship. He had just enough time to feel satisfaction at the look of hatred in the Khynah commander's eyes before the world dissolved around him.

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Ren kneeled behind a consul in engineering, trapped by cross fire. She had managed to kill at least four of the seven Khynah, but the three remaining were in good position to keep her pinned down indefinitely. Her phaser was going to run out of power soon, and then she'd be a sitting duck! Under her breath she made up curses and fired them off with each of her carefully aimed phaser bursts at the enemy. "Hope the damn lousha eat your whole heartless world!" she taunted as she remembered what the Khynah had called the disgusting little rodent that had killed his beast. A blast of energy singed her arm in return.

She remembered the fight she had survived in the Jeffries tubes of the space station. What had that girl said about her knife? She'd been very insulted when Ren had expressed disbelief that the girl named her blade and seemed to think of it as a living thing. Eprrsi, yeah, that was the word that the girl had spat. "Your blade's a damned eprrsi!" she yelled.

A head popped out of cover, lips drawn back in a snarl of anger. Ren blew the snarl right off his face. She could move around to her left now, and get a better shot at the other two. "Your blades have no names, and no glory! When I get done, I'm gonna take them as trophies and cut liverwurst with them!" She knew what she was saying didn't make a lot of sense. But she hoped that it would be enough to infuriate her targets.

"You're going to die, human. But I'm going to make sure it is very slowly." The reply of her enemy was calm and intent. He meant every syllable. And this one wasn't going to be goaded into letting her blow his head off.

An explosion shook the deck. Ren fell forward, out from behind her cover, and had to scramble back before a barrage of fire from the other side of the room. Smoke began to flood the air and she had to keep one arm over her nose to keep from choking on the fumes. Her eyes watered painfully.

The only explanation Ren could think of is that the other team had had to detonate their bombs prematurely. She hoped they would make it back to the rescue point where Nancy Smart waited to signal their ship to evacuate them.

There was no doubt that the thermal bombs had done their damage. There was no further need for her to plant her bomb. She had to get out now and make the rendezvous herself. Ren pushed herself along the floor, using the smoke as cover and inching back towards the exit. She couldn't see either of the Khynah. She was sure she was equally invisible. She turned to run down the corridor. A blinding blow to her skull sent her running into darkness instead. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Silva stood his ground. The Khynah sneered derisively. "You're not going to escape, human. You might at well accept that right now." Silva made a lunge for the Khynah weapon! The Khynah pulled the trigger and a piece of wall directly below Silva's arm disintegrated into rubble, chips of stone imbedded themselves along the back of his forearm like tiny knives.

He struck the arm of the Khynah against his leg, ignoring his own pain. The Khynah grunted but held on to the weapon. The other man butted his head hard into Silva's dazing him. His vision blurred for a second, but he refused to release his hold over the weapon either.

An explosion in the distance startled them both. One of the teams must have succeeded in setting off their bombs. It sounded like a set of closely timed explosions. Silva guessed it had to be McRay's team that had set it off. He hoped Ren was able to get out in time and wasn't hurt by the explosion. But there was no more time to spare a thought for the others.

He brought his knee up into the Khynah's ribs, then plowed his body into the wall opposite! The Khynah doubled in pain but held on. With an animalistic growl the Khynah bit into Silva's shoulder! Blood seeped out of the wound, covering the Khynah's mouth in a goulish smile. Silva used all the adrenaline in his system to build his strength to strike back. His fist connected with the jaw of the Khynah and he heard the bone snap. The Khynah's eyes rolled up into their sockets an the man fell limply at Silva's feet.

Silva took the Khynah weapon with him as he ran into the night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"A few more seconds!" Silva growled in desperation, "We've got to give them a few more seconds! We can't leave my people back there! They're as good as dead if we leave them!"

"And we're as good as dead if we don't!" the ship captain barked back. "I'm sorry, Captain Silva. The Khynah are already zeroing in on this ship. We have no choice. We're leaving!" He turned to his helmsman, "Best speed for Federation space, and take evasive action. Maintain cloak!"

Silva collapsed into a chair. Nancy Smart gave him a sympathetic look. She had argued with Captain Sudderland herself, in order to get him to wait a few minutes longer to evacuate her from the rendezvous point. Without her stubbornness, Silva too would have been abandoned on Den'a.

"I'm sorry..." Silva exhaled a tortured sigh, "I'm sorry!"

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Ren woke to find herself on the cold floor of a dimly lit cell. It was windowless, and as airless as a tomb. She groaned in pain, barely able to move her head. Staring intently at her, was a small rodent, eyes black and expressionless. It was a poisonous lousha. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear several more in the room as well.

"Don't move," someone behind her spoke in a whisper, "and don't make any noise."

Ren fought the scream that was building inside her mind. If she lost her battle, she was going to start screaming and never stop! The lousha leapt towards her trembling hand!

Ren woke to find herself on the cold floor of a dimly lit cell. It was windowless, and as airless as a tomb. She groaned in pain, barely able to move her head. Staring intently at her, was a small rodent, eyes black and expressionless. It was a poisonous lousha. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear several more in the room as well.

"Don't move," someone behind her spoke in a whisper, "and don't make any noise."

Ren fought the scream that was building inside her mind. If she lost her battle, she was going to start screaming and never stop! The lousha leapt towards her trembling hand! --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We have to send a rescue in NOW!" Silva concluded with emphasis.

For forty-five minutes he had been questioned and re-questioned by the board of Admirals and Council members. He knew that his career was on the line. It didn't matter. His people left back on Den'a were all that mattered. If he couldn't convince Starfleet to save his men, he would resign his command anyway, and go back himself.

"Captain Silva," one of the council members belonging to the Federation Advisory Commission on Diplomatic Affairs smiled and said in a pacifying tone, "you have lost your perspective of the situation. Oh, I admit," he spoke as if explaining some complex idea to a child, "this situation will be somewhat embarrassing, trying to explain why some of our citizens were caught near one of their craft that 'happened to blow up.'" He broke off and gave Silva a scrutinizing look. "And Captain, you still haven't explained to our satisfaction, just why your group took it upon yourselves to sabotage a Khynah ship, when your orders were simply to observe and report on developments."

Silva looked over at Admiral Sharn. Rage was building inside his chest like a physical sensation. His orders to buy the diplomatic corps time had been secret. Silva doubted that more than three of the men present in the room knew what the true mission had been. Sharn held his gaze and silently ordered him to maintain discretion.

"There was no sabotage," Silva maintained, "we were following orders. We were observing, observing very closely. That's all. I cannot say how the ship came to blow up. Maybe something went wrong." Silva folded his arms across his chest and gave them all a look that said he was through answering that question. He knew they were far from satisfied. They were getting no where.

"Then there shouldn't be a problem explaining that to the Khynah. But I'm sure no harm will come to our people until we can straighten things out; diplomatically, of course," the councilman replied, "A rescue operation, as you propose, will only make things worse."

"Look, Admirals, Council members, you don't understand! The Khynah don't live by rules of war, with... with our understanding of treating prisoners of war with humanity." Silva leaned across the table, desperately trying to convey to the men before him what they were condemning his abandoned team to. "My people will be tortured in the worst ways imaginable and then killed! We have to get them out of there NOW!"

"Captain Silva," another man in diplomatic gray addressed him, "we are not at war with the Khynah. They have no reason to harm your men."

Silva looked at the councilor, amazed at the man's ability to deceive himself. "'NOT at war?!' 'No REASON?!'" he sputtered, "Did they have REASON to attack a space station and kill every man, woman, and child aboard? Did they have REASON to ambush the Endeavour? Did they have reason to kill hundreds of Starfleet officers in that ambush? And what were those acts, if not acts of WAR?!" Silva stood and drilled the man across the table from him with a look of loathing. "Khynah don't NEED reasons to be brutal! That's who they are, Councilor. And weather you want to believe it or not, we are heading for war with the Khynah."

There was very little said after that of any consequence. The board ordered an inquiry into the events that led to the capture of five Starfleet personnel, and the briefing was brought to a close. Silva continued to sit, stunned, at the table as the others left the room.

"They're probably dead, Silva. It's already too late." Silva looked up to see Admiral Sharn standing over him.

Silva refused to believe that. "Admiral, we have to try. What if they are alive still?"

Sharn shook his head in resignation, "Then they are expendable." He continued before Silva could explode in disbelief and anger, "You knew, THEY knew, going in that the mission was nearly guaranteed to kill any or all of the team. They were volunteers who recognized the danger and the importance of the mission. And the mission was a success, Silva," he emphasized, "you bought us time. I've read your report on the actual events. That Khynah ship would have been a deciding factor in many of the coming battles- and yes, I agree that battles are coming. Your people died, but saved countless lives."

Silva looked at the admiral coldly. "That's it? The Federation honors them as heroes, 'They died, but saved countless lives,' and no one even bothers to find out if they really are dead?!"

"I told you, it's too late for them now. Now," the Admiral sighed, "we save you- your career, at any rate. Don't worry about the inquiry, Silva. I'll take care of that."

Very stiffly Silva stood. "Thank you, Admiral, Sir." The ice and contempt in his voice was nothing compared to the disgust in his eyes. He left the room without looking back.

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She screamed! The lousha's claws raked her hand. With lightening reflexes that defied her concussed state, she shook it off and jumped to her feet, all in one motion. With her boot she kicked out at the creature and connected, but instead of sending the rodent sailing backwards, it clung to the leather of her boot with both teeth and claws! She screamed again! This time she struck her foot directly into the wall, pinning the animal between her boot and the stone, crushing it to death! She nearly fell over in dizziness, sobbing as she shook the carcass off the sole of her boot and threw it into the corner.

Quickly she looked for any sign of another. There were none that she could see, but a crack along the bottom of one wall gave a good indication of how the lousha had entered. There were ominous scratchings behind that wall, but so far, no more horrors appeared.

"Did it bite you?"

Ren spun around again. The person who had warned her not to move upon waking, lay in a heap in the far corner. He was barely recognizable as human; clothes burned to his skin, face barely more than an open wound, hair charred away to the scalp. Ren nearly vomited at the sight and the smell of infection. She could hardly believe this person could be alive.

"Did it bite you?!" he insisted again.

"No, no, it just scratched my hand," she said, absently rubbing the three parallel marks on the back of her hand.

"With teeth or claws?" he asked urgently. "Teeth 'r poisonous."

"Claws, I think."

He sighed, in relief, or pain. She couldn't tell which. Ren moved to him quickly, wracking her brain for some idea of how to help this man. "What happened?"

"Thermal bomb," he grunted. "Caught in the blast. Others all dead. Glad you weren't hurt."

That was her first indication that this person, this burned wreck of flesh, was someone she knew. "Colm?"

"Yah, didn't recognize me huh?" he gasped a painful laugh, "Can't blame you; it's a bad-hair day."

"God, Colm...." Tears burned her eyes. She didn't know what to do. "I..." She didn't know what to say either. They were locked in a cell, obviously prisoners, and no one was going to help either one of them. She didn't even have any water to try to wash his burns.

"'sall right." He looked into her eyes. There was understanding there; understanding of his fate, and of her helplessness to do anything for him. "We got 'em good, Ren," and there was satisfaction in that statement, "Took out the ship, and several of those bastards."

"You sure did, Colm! You did good." Tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks. "You just rest quiet now, OK? Save your strength."

"Be quiet soon enough." He raised one hand as if searching for something.

"What is it? What do you need, Colm?" Ren asked, taking his hand, ignoring the wet feel of blood.

"My padd. Don't think they took it." He pointed to his pocket that had been at the side of his leg.

She felt through the scraps of cloth, flinching at the pain she imagined her light touch caused him. She found the padd. It was badly charred, and encrusted with his own skin now. "I...I can't pull it out." She told him.

"Yes you can, go ahead, I won't feel it."

"I can't!" she refused. "Colm, it's fused to your leg!"

He ignored her and tried to reach for it himself. He couldn't get his fingers to grasp it. His eyes pleaded with her to do as he asked; to do the one thing for him that was left in her control.

"All right," she whispered. She found the edge of the padd with her fingers and began to pull. She had to force down bile as she felt his flesh tear away with it. Colm didn't even cry out, his nervous system beyond any further pain signals. "Here." She placed the padd in his hand.

"Promise me you'll keep it," he pleaded, "if you can." They both knew that her chances of survival were not much better than his.

"I promise."

He pushed the padd back into her hand. His breathing was labored and shallow. She knew he couldn't live much longer. Sobs wracked her and she curled her arms around her legs as she knelt beside his still form.

Colm died that night. Ren gently crossed his hands over his chest and closed his eyes. She was grateful that his tortured breathing had stopped, and felt guilty for that.

Several times the lousha in the wall had poked inquiring noses out the crack. Ren used her boot toe to kick them back into cover. She didn't dare sleep. She couldn't count on being as lucky again if another lousha crept in. Her head pounded in pain from the blow that had knocked her unconscious, and several other small injuries made themselves known. Shock and grief made her feel as though she would never stop crying.

She sat leaning against the wall opposite the dangerous crack, and read what Colm had left her on his padd. It was poetry- deeply personal, and surprisingly eloquent. As she read she discovered a man she had never known, and mourned him all the more deeply.

She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes for a minute. "Silva, where are you?" Her only hope was that Silva had managed to escape and would bring help.

The door to her stone cell resounded with metal scraping metal. Ren scrabbled across the cell on her knees and poked the padd into the crack of the wall to hide it. Then she stood up. A Khynah guard stood in the door way. He took in the still form of Colm McRay, then looked at her. "Time for you to answer a few questions, human."

Her nightmare wasn't over yet.

'So this is what it felt like to die,' Ren had time to think. She felt the edge of the blade move across her throat. The blood spurted across the arm that held her from behind. She choked on her own blood even as she struggled one last time to escape! Her breath was a gurgle in her own ears. Her legs lost strength with every desperate heart beat, she could not even support herself. Slowly she sank to the floor.

"You don't want to talk, Federation? Then you'll never talk again," the voice taunted.

She hated that voice! For hours that voice had goaded, irritated, cajoled, and degraded her. It was that voice that had given the orders for the fists to beat her. That voice had ordered them to stop and give her water, to revive her, only to order more pain. That voice was going to be her last connection with life, and she wanted only to destroy it somehow before she died. Uselessly she fought to lift her hands to grasp her revenge. They were leaden and would not move.

She had never imagined there were so many different ways to cause pain, so many variations of the same sensations, all of them sending her mind into that despairing darkness. But worse than the pain were the moments when it stopped. If the pain had gone on and on without release, she could have born it. She could have let her mind fall into the darkness and never come back. She could have hidden there forever and bathed in the coolness of oblivion. But they stopped the pain. And her mind sought its way back to the surface, only to find the voice waiting to start it all again.

Until now; finally it was going to end! They had slit her throat and she would die. The cut had gone far beyond a surface wound. 'No surviving this,' she thought. It was her last thought as she slumped helplessly on the floor. The dark would last this time. She smiled.

----------------------------------------------------

Silva packed a second set of compact survival gear. With all his being he hoped he would be able to find a use for it. Or someone to use it. Silva knew he was on thin ground. His special orders gave him a lot of personal discretion, but he was pretty sure that this would not have official approval.

After futile attempts to urge Starfleet to mount a rescue effort, Silva had allowed himself to give the impression of resignation. As he had known they would, command quickly reassigned him, thinking that work would take his mind off of his present obsession with his last mission. This time there was no accompanying team. He would go to Den'a alone, search for signs of any new developmental ships, and report back. Privately, Silva would search for any hope that Carstairs or any of the team might still be alive.

If he found them, nothing would stop him from getting them out this time!

------------------------------------------------------------ Ren woke to feel a cold cloth wiping her forehead. She tried to stop the hand from reviving her. "No more..." Words wouldn't come from her dry and painful throat. She didn't want to wake! She wanted the darkness!

"Shh, hold still and don't try to talk." This was a different voice, a woman's voice, and had no accent. Ren tried to open her eyes to see the speaker, but couldn't. "You've had a high fever, been unconscious for four days. I wasn't sure you were going to ever wake up."

Ren felt tears well inside her. She didn't want to wake up! Why had this woman brought her back; for more torture? She knew she couldn't take any more pain. She would lose her mind if it started again! Her spirit was broken as much as her body. She wanted to beg them for death! 'Please, God!' she vehemently prayed in her mind for the mercy of oblivion again.

She must have lost consciousness again, because this time when she woke she could open her eyes and see a little daylight. She lay upon a pallet of blankets against a bare wall. There were no furnishings. The room she was in was small, austere, but not the same prison cell she had been in before, when Colm had died. There was a window above her. From her position she could see only a sliver of sky.

Her body was a series of pains. One by one she tried to test her muscles and limbs to see if they would move. Her fingers on her right hand felt crushed, she couldn't bend them. She remembered the boot that had stamped down on them in the chamber with the Voice. Her legs both worked but a lancing pain shot up her spine when she tried to roll over. It stole her breath away and tightened an iron band around her chest as the muscles went into spasms. Sweat bathed her forehead when the agony had passed. She lay limply on the blankets, afraid to try to move again.

She was definitely alive. She tried to figure that out. She distinctly remembered dying, having her throat slit when the Voice had finally decided she was never going to tell him anything he wanted to know. She remembered that in vivid detail. She slowly eased her good hand to her throat and felt a bandage. Someone had stopped the bleeding then. How had she been brought here, and where was here?

The door opened behind her head. She let her eyes fall shut and pretended to still be unconscious.

"Is she still alive?" a male voice asked with little real interest.

A gentle hand touched lightly at the pulse point of her wrist, then lay across her forehead. "Yes, she's alive. Stronger today I think. She may wake up." This was the same voice that had been there when she woke the first time; definitely female, and speaking perfect Federation Standard. Ren risked opening her eyes.

A woman stood over her. Her face was smeared with dirt, her skin was reddened and her lips were chapped as if she had been in a harsh sun for hours, but her smile was reassuringly human. "So, you are with us," she said. The man that had entered with her came over to look at Ren also. Human, he too looked like he was suffering from malnutrition and exhaustion. He didn't say anything at all, just looked her over.

Ren wanted to ask them where she was, how she had gotten to this room, how long she had been here- but her throat was so dry she could barely croak a sound.

"Don't try to talk," the woman said firmly, "Your throat is still healing."

Her thoughts must have been in her eyes, because the woman sat down beside her and began to explain all the things she needed to know. "We're still prisoners on Den'a," she seemed to know that that was the most important thing to tell Ren right away. "I am Naomi Prewitt, and that is Barnes," she gestured to the man who had gone to sit against the wall across from them. "I was taken from a merchant ship near the Klingon Federation borders, and Barnes was on a passenger shuttle. I've been here forty-three days, give or take a few. Barnes was already here. The Khynah have quite a few people from different worlds and races, using them as slaves." She sighed and seemed to get lost in her own thoughts.

Ren raised a hand and gestured to herself, hoping Naomi would understand that she wanted to know how she herself had come to this room. "You were brought in here five days ago. You were in very bad shape. I really thought you were going to die. Your throat..."she broke off as if thinking about that wound was too painful for her. "You didn't regain consciousness for four days. You ran a high fever."

"She used most of our drinking water to clean you up and try to get the fever down," Barnes spoke up for the first time. From the sound of it, he hadn't approved of Naomi using the water to help her. "I figured it was a waste. You were dead, it was just a matter of minutes or hours." A brief look of speculation crossed his face and then was gone. "Don't know why they even let you live. They usually don't bother with anyone not able to work," he paused, considering, "Someone is interested in you, for some reason." He seemed to run out of words, and just watched her for a few minutes. It was impossible to read his thoughts behind his emotionless gaze. Finally he lay down and stared at the ceiling, turning himself away from any further conversation.

Ren looked at the woman beside her and tried to convey her thanks with her eyes. She wasn't sure how she felt about being saved from death. Part of her was sure she would have been better off dead. But she knew that this woman had sacrificed her own comfort and essential water to save her. She had to acknowledge that.

"The one in charge here, Darsak they call him, he seemed angry about your condition when they brought you in. Do you know him?" Ren shook her head no.

A hollow tone, as if a base instrument were being blown, echoed down the hall outside the door, "That's the signal for food and water rations coming." Naomi explained. "Only one of us is allowed to retrieve it for all of us." She stood and went to the door.

Ren could hear the sound of doors being unlocked one at a time, but there were no voices. Naomi stood at the door and waited. Soon it opened. A Khynah guard looked in to see that the other two prisoners were clear of the opening, then opened the door wide to shove two buckets inside to Naomi. The door was quickly shut and locked again.

Naomi returned with a bucket of water and a bucket of tasteless soup. A coarse piece of bread was also given to each of them. Ren watched as Barnes used his bread to soak up the soup and eat it. They had no bowls, no utensils, so this was the only way.

Naomi helped her to sit up. Tears streamed from her eyes at the way her body hurt with every movement. Naomi soaked a bite of bread in the soup for her. She tried but could not swallow the softened bread. She choked on it and fell back against the wall in pain and tiredness from the effort.

"You aren't ready for solids yet," the other woman commented. She dipped her own hand into the luke warm soup and cupped a little into her palm. "Here, try to drink this." She brought it to Ren's mouth, gently letting it drip between her lips. Ren ignored the discomfort as she swallowed. The watery soup was the best thing she had ever eaten. Naomi continued to feed her from her hand until Ren could eat no more. It was only a few sips, but she was too exhausted to drink more. "I'll save you a little more and try to help you drink it later." Only after Ren had been laid back down and covered with a blanket, did Naomi finally feed herself. Ren wondered if the man Barnes had left enough for Naomi. -------------------------

Three days slipped by. Gradually Ren could stand and move about the room. During the day the other two occupants were outside working. Naomi sorted ore outside of a mine entrance. Barnes was sent down into the mine and pulled a drag cart of ore from the excavators to the shaft, then sent it up to the surface to be sorted. Naomi said there were at least forty men and women working there, mostly human. No one had seen any children. No one asked any more what had happened to any children captured.

The Khynah worked their captives in the hot sun or in the dangerous mine pits without rest. Many people collapsed from heat stroke and exhaustion. Some died. When they were dead or too sick to work, they were drug off and soon more slaves were brought to replace them. Naomi had no idea where on the planet they were. The only shuttles she had seen or heard flying near them were the transports that brought more slaves or guards.

Barnes ate and slept, rarely saying anything. Ren couldn't blame him. He was conserving what little energy he had in reserve, just to make it through another day. His only goal was survival.

Naomi was a different story. The physical exhaustion was clear on her face and body. She was weakening with every day of labor. As oblivious as Barnes appeared to be to their presence, he seemed to care about Naomi. He ate only a quarter ration of the food each night, instead of the third that was his share, leaving the rest for Naomi and Ren to eat. It would not be enough. Ren could see that Naomi would not survive much longer.

As tired as her body was, Naomi's spirit never seemed to flag. Each night she would talk about her life before the Khynah. She told of her family and the ship they had worked so hard to buy to become traders. She described the many planets they had visited and the people she had come to think of as friends. Once she talked about her three children. It was the only time she cried. Her hold on her past life was all that kept her going. She would not allow the Khynah to steal her memories away from her, nor use them to break her. Her memories were her strength.

Naomi told her of rumors of other facilities where prisoners were kept. Some were said to be under ground, and complete hell-holes, the dead and dying left together. Ren had no trouble believing that. She had vivid memories of the cell she had been left in with Colm, even after he had died. She remembered the cold and the hours of exhaustion, fear keeping her awake for hours that dragged on into days- afraid one of the poisonous rodents would come out of the wall and bite her in her sleep. This place was heaven by comparison.

The next day Ren was ordered to work with the others. The work crew was taken to the entrance of the mine. All the men, and some of the stronger women, were lowered in groups into the shaft in a large metal cage. They were given lamps that strapped to their heads.

Naomi held onto Ren's hand as they watched Barnes' group lowered. Barnes locked eyes with Naomi until he fell below the level of site into the cold ground. "He hates the dark," she whispered. "Every time they send him down he dies a little. The first time they forced him down, he nearly lost his mind. He screamed all the way down. His crew knocked him unconscious to keep the guard from killing him on the spot. When he woke in the dark, he thought he was dead. Now he says he screams inside."

A guard ordered Ren and Naomi to start sorting as the first ore-cart was brought up. Naomi showed her what to look for in the rocks to separate the ore from the slag. "If production doesn't meet a certain quota, no one eats. So if you aren't sure about a rock, pass it to me. We can't afford to miss any."

Ren wondered why the Khynah didn't use scanners to separate the ore and slag. It would have been faster. Maybe they didn't have the technology yet. Or maybe they just liked working prisoners to death. Soon she was too tired to think about her situation. The heat, on top of her recent injuries, quickly stole away all her energy. One rock blurred into another. One movement ached like the last, like the next. Time meant nothing. She saw someone fall a few feet away and moved to help them. A lash across her shoulders with some sort of energy whip staggered her in her tracks. The Khynah on guard duty just laughed, then motioned her back to her position in the work line. No one paid any attention to what had happened, and no one moved to help the fallen victim. Soon a guard went over and drug the body away.

When they were released to return to their dorm-like cells, Ren could barely walk. Her feet felt like lead and the weal across her shoulders from the force whip was stinging with sweat running between her shoulder blades. Naomi walked beside her and gave her an encouraging smile. The building where they were housed was not far. In a line they all filtered in and went directly to their cells.

It took a second for the entrance to the building to register on Ren's consciousness. The door, there wasn't one! There was only a bare archway. She looked back over her shoulder, searching the frame for evidence of an electronic security field. She could see none. She craned for a better look, trying to see around and over the people moving in line behind her.

"Forget it!" Barnes barked from behind her. He was parched from laboring with very little water all day. "There's no door, nothing keeping us here outside of the locked cell doors- except the desire to live. Walk out that door and you have nowhere to go but into the dessert. There's no water, no food, and no way in hell you'll survive more than a day. That's if the slaggin' Khynah don't track you down for the sport of it."

Ren heard what he said but couldn't quit thinking about escape. Naomi brought their food and the three ate in silence. Still Ren thought about the lack of security. The dessert wasn't far away, but then what part of Den'a wasn't a dessert? She would have to look for more clues of their location, look for an opportunity. Maybe she could make it to a shuttle the next time a transport of prisoners arrived. If she could steal it, she could get Naomi and Barnes out of here too, maybe.

Barnes slept. Naomi was unusually quiet. Ren still could not talk- the knife had cut her vocal chords when her throat had been slit. The best she could manage was an airy whispering croak when she needed to convey something she could not pantomime. She laid her hand over Naomi's in silent comfort. Naomi smiled absently then lay on her side, immediately asleep. Ren curled against Naomi's back for warmth, sharing a blanket. It was a long time before she fell asleep.

It was two days later that Naomi collapsed on their way to their work detail. Ren saw her fall. Without thought she rushed over to her, raising her head and shadowing her from the sun as best she could with her own silhouette. A guard moved over and raised his whip. She fully expected to feel it fall across her shoulders, but though she heard the electrical hiss, she felt nothing. That's when she realized that Barnes was there also. He was shielding her from the blows, just as she had meant to shield Naomi.

She lost no time. Softly but firmly she slapped at Naomi's cheeks. Unable to call her name with any force, she blew her breath across her face, not sure what else to do to wake the woman. Another hiss-snap cracked across Barnes, and the Khynah guard was getting impatient. His hand was already on his phase weapon. Ren slapped Naomi harder.

Slowly Naomi's eyes opened. There was no sign of conscious thought in her gaze, but she was awake. Ren used all her strength to lever the woman into a semi-standing position. Barnes lent a hand too. The guard cursed all three of them and made it clear that they were to get to work or he would kill them all. Ren staggered with Naomi to the piles of rock at their station.

"Thank you," Naomi weakly whispered. Ren gave her a concerned glance. But the other woman managed to pull herself upright away from Ren's support and lift a small rock to throw away. Ren followed with larger rocks, hoping that her friend could make it through the day. Barnes watched closely until his gang was forced down the hole. This time it was Ren who lent him her courage as he disappeared into the dark. She held his eyes and gave him the last smile she had in her heart. --------------------------------------------------

The afternoon sun was high when a shuttle flew low overhead. It landed on a rise overlooking the mining camp. Several guards, and one Khynah she had never seen before, walked out to meet the occupants. Ren watched, wondering what she could learn and use for an escape.

A lancing blow of electrical fire lashed her back and arm! "Get back to work!" growled the guard that had struck her with the force whip. Flinching from the pain, she quickly dropped her gaze and moved more slag. But from under her lank hair she watched what was going on at the shuttle.

She guessed that the unknown Khynah must be Darsak, the one in charge of the camp that Naomi had mentioned briefly. His clothing spoke of higher status, and he wore an air of command. He was shorter that the other Khynah, and looked slight, but she knew better than to assume that meant he was weak. She had learned enough about her enemy by now to know that a Khynah did not survive unless he were physically strong. And one did not reach a position of power unless he were also extremely intelligent.

A pair of Khynah, richly dressed in ornamented leather, exited the craft. Darsak's manner seemed to stiffen in deference, but there was no other sign of submission. Respected equals then, Ren speculated. They were too far away for her to hear what was being said. Instead she looked over the shuttle. It was smaller than the usual craft used to bring more prisoners. It looked faster, more powerful too. The controls were bound to be slightly different from those designed by the Federation, but there were basic functions of flight that defied any cultural slant; a navigation screen looked like a navigation screen, directional indicators could only have so many variations, alarm lights were pretty much universal, and most power operations were kept simple for pilot benefit- weather the pilot was Khynah, Human, or Denebian. She was confident that if she could just get a look at the inside of that ship, she would be able to discern which controls ordered which functions.

She could feel the desire to get to that ship as a tangible sensation. Her respiration increased and sweat broke out on her palms. Nervously she glanced to see if the guard was paying her any attention. He was focused on the scene near the craft too. She looked over at Naomi. The woman was barely able to stand. Her face was flushed in the heat and her hands shook. She would never be able to make a break for the shuttle with Ren. She would not make two feet without collapsing. And Barnes, he was below, trapped in the ground. She could not leave either of them, not even for her own freedom!

Ren felt all hope drain out of her, like the blood that had drained away when her throat had been slit. Her heart kept pumping, but she could feel her life ebbing none the less.

The guard from the opposite end of the line of separators moved to stand near his friend. "What do you think is going on?" he asked, indicating the group near the shuttle.

"Don't know. Wonder who's gonna draw first," the nearer guard replied.

Ren's eyes snapped back to the Khynah. Darsak was obviously angry, maybe even defensive. His hand was near his blade at his belt, a clear warning to the other two that they were close to ending his tolerance. One of the new arrivals also had his hand at the ready, but the second offered no reaction. With near contempt, he reached over and rested his hand on the Darsak's gloved wrist. Whatever he said inflamed Darsak all the more, but instead of drawing his blade, Darsak turned and walked away. His back was straight and his pace unhurried. The gesture was clearly meant as an insult. Louder than words, he was telling all within sight that he considered the other two no real threat.

The arrival that had looked close to drawing his blade on Darsak, tried to lunge forward after him. But his companion grasped him firmly and gave some order. Darsak continued his dignified stride towards his quarters, as if nothing had occurred. A small piece of Ren had to admire his courage. After a few seconds both intruders returned to the shuttle. The sound of the craft flying overhead as it left broke her reverie. She quickly shifted her attention back to work, helping Naomi separate a large group of stones, hoping the guards would not have noticed her interest. Bitterness washed her throat as she swallowed, aware that she had let her chance of escape pass.

Darsak sat at his desk without any emotion crossing his face. His two closest rivals had apparently joined together. And now, encouraged by their alliance, they were openly challenging his command. His unease about the allegations made by A'lten and Negr'a did not show on the surface. But within, he knew he was dangerously close to self destruction.

Every prison camp on Den'a was run with but one concern, production. The demand for raw materials, for ships and armament, must be met at any cost. Prisoners were considered a limitless, and renewable, resource. His actions- feeding his prisoners more than a bare diet of scraps, giving them comforts such as blankets, refusing to overcrowd cells, even in some cases allowing weak or sick prisoners to have time to heal before ordering them to processing lines- were counter productive in the eyes of most commanders.

The fact that his camp produced as much, if not more ore than any of the others; that his prisoner allotment was smaller than any other; that his death rate was the lowest heard of; these things were inconsequential. He was viewed as soft. To a Khynah, that perception by others was the greatest threat there existed.

He would have to do something soon, or his position of command, his life, would be ended. By A'lten, by Negr'a, by any one of a dozen other rivals- in the end it would not matter by whom.

----------------------------------------------

Ren lay awake thinking. Leaving the compound would be easy. There were only a few guards. The Khynah were so sure that their prisoners were beaten into submission, convinced that they no longer had the strength or courage to face the desserts outside. Rightly so. A person would be a fool to go out into the desserts with no food or water, no protection, no plan.

Ren had a lot of survival training for the dessert. Was it enough? Was all the special training her team had received before coming to Den'a enough?

Her team. God, they all seemed so far away, another lifetime- Jimmy Morgan's laughing, youthful face; Smart's red hair, her only vanity; Colm McRay's poetry that he never shared; Colm's burned body. She tried to block that last memory. Instead she forced a memory to the front of Silva, his strong hands, and gentle kiss. He had only ever kissed her on the forehead, one time, but she knew that if the timing had been different, she would have had much more from him.

Silva was a man she could have loved. His humor was as sharp as his mind. He had a quality that made people look to him for direction and protection. He was a Captain, but even without that rank, he would have been a leader. Where was he now? What would he have done here?

"Get up off that pretty little butt of yours, Carstairs," she could almost hear him now, as if they were still on that training cliff. "What do you think this is, a hotel? We have civilians to get to safety."

That was the rub. She was fairly confident that she could make it to the dessert and survive, at least for a while. And maybe Barnes could make it too, but not Naomi. How was she going to get Naomi out and keep her alive? Her collapse today meant that time was running out. She would die if they stayed, and she would likely die if they tried to escape.

If she could get them away from this prison camp; if she could find a shuttle and manage to steal it; if they could get off the planet and into safe territory without being shot down; if.... There were more "if's" than she could count.

Sleep finally claimed her mind and released her from the tortures of unanswerable questions.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Silva moved carefully, dragging his body an inch at a time up the rise using his elbows to dig into the abrasive sand. From the top of the dune he could see the activity going on below.

His small ship, a new design created specifically to allow one or two people to breach highly monitored areas of space without detection, was hidden a few miles away at the edge of the extensive volcanic lowlands of the main continent of Den'a. The seismic activity given off by the huge open fishers had successfully covered his landing. Now all he had to do, was watch the Khynah, report on their activities, surreptitiously search for remaining members of his team, if possible rescue them, stay alive, and manage not to be captured- not necessarily in that order.

He was observing a processing plant. Raw materials were being brought in from outlying areas, maybe even from other planets that they had raided. But from what he could discern of the processing, weapons- both ground defensive, and offensive- were the main product that they were attempting to amass. It made sense if they were going to continue raiding other cultures, because sooner or later, someone was going to decide it was time to strike back.

There were no signs of a developmental ship, but the weapons were threat enough. If he could discover where their supplies of raw materials were coming from, maybe he could get back to the Federation with strategic information that would aid in future conflicts. There were no doubts in his mind that there would be conflict. War was a matter of time, in his opinion, and not far off.

He backed slowly down the dune. It was time to get back to his ship and see what he could find out.

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Their work shift was over. Ren was sure that Barnes would be on the first cage if he could be. Naomi wouldn't have the strength to walk back to the compound, and she would welcome his help to support her. The hours in the sun were having a toll on her own strength too. She walked slowly with the other woman leaning on her. The other sorters moved ahead of her and Naomi, so she picked up the pace a little, taking more of Naomi's weight. She didn't want to give the guard a reason to strike either of them.

She glanced back again. Two Khynah stood near the equipment at the top of the shaft arguing. One gestured adamantly at the controls to raise the cage from below pulling his weapon and the other shrugged, giving up his argument. The cage began its ascent. A few seconds later there was a horrible shriek of twisting metal like a violent scream from inside the planet! Ren let go of Naomi and went running back as fast as she could, leaving Naomi behind unable to keep up.

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The day was finally over. Every hour below was an eternity. Barnes could feel the tons of rock above him crushing the air from his lungs. The darkness was deeper than night. If the small lamp strapped to his head were to go out, he'd be lost in this grave forever. He shoved his way to the front of the line of men going to the top, ignoring a few curses and several threats. Now that they were released from their labor, nothing was going to keep him buried alive for a second longer than he could prevent.

"Le'me on!" His gruff shout came out between tight lips. His phobia of the pit was well known and no one stood in his way. No one who had been in the mines long, would dare get between Barnes and the surface. Someone climbed over the rail of the cage and let Barnes take his place just as it started up for the light.

Barnes looked up, eyes straining for the first glimpse of light. At first it was no more than a small beacon, no larger than the circle of light cast from a head lamp. But it was coming from above and getting closer every second. He even imagined that he could taste a difference in the air. He took a deep lung full and let some of the tension ease. It was the first deep breath he had managed in the fourteen hours he's been in the dark.

He wondered how Naomi was. Her collapse a few days ago had shattered his illusion that he had let all natural feelings for other human beings die. He'd felt his own heart falter when he'd seen her laying so limp in Ren's arms. He couldn't bring himself to pray any more, but he needed to believe that some force would intervene for this woman. She was too good to die in a Khynah prison camp!

Suddenly there was a groan of stressed metal. The cage shuddered and bucked like a living animal trying to dislodge the occupants. Barnes grabbed onto the rail and felt hands grabbing onto him from the dark around them. Someone screamed in fear as the cage dropped a few feet then suddenly stopped. There was a fine moment of calm suspended between the darkness below and the light above. Barnes looked up at the thread of filtered light that reached towards them, knowing that he would never leave this tomb. Then the cage fell out from beneath them, plummeting towards the bottom of the shaft to shatter them like a dozen dropped eggs.

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At the top of the shaft the Khynah were arguing again over what had happened. Ren looked over the edge of the pit. The light didn't reach deep enough down to let her see anything. A rough hand jerked her away and shoved her back towards the compound.

"I can help!" She wanted to yell, but her throat would make no sound other than a rasping croak. She had no idea if there was anything she could do to save the men below, she wasn't even sure what had happened, though she was fairly certain it involved the cage. She only knew she had to find a way to get them to let her try. She rushed at the controls at the cage platform.

"Stop!" One guard lifted his weapon to shoot her. The other grabbed his arm, "No, wait!" He waited to see what she was doing. "She is trying to find a way to get the cage up."

"Impossible! It fell!" He raised his arm again to shoot her.

With impatience the second guard slammed an elbow into the first man's stomach and wrenched the weapon from his fingers. "And who's fault is that? I told you the hystap line was damaged and leaking. Any fool would have known that the motor would seize and the cables would snap under the tension!"

He looked the woman over. "What can you do? It fell, they are all dead. Now get back to the sleep quarters!"

She refused to give up. She could tell nothing from the controls. She swung away and rushed to the machinery itself. It was a simple set up of hydraulic lines, cables, pulleys, and motors. There were no fail-safes of any kind, and she was horrified by the fact that lives had been lost because of a simple mechanical failure. 'No, maybe they aren't all dead!' she told herself. 'We have to see! What if it didn't fall all the way, and what about the men below who weren't in that first cage? They are trapped. I have to get them out at least.' She latched onto the hope that Barnes had somehow missed being in that first cage out tonight. Maybe he was safely waiting at the bottom; trapped and afraid, but alive.

She struck her fist against the machinery in frustration, unsure what to do. She looked up and saw Naomi for the first time. She had managed to get back to the shaft on her own. Ren frantically motioned her over. The guards paid no attention to the weak woman, they had gone back to arguing over what had to be done next, while there was still daylight.

Naomi knelt beside Ren, catching her breath. "Barnes?" she gasped.

Ren shrugged. She just didn't know if there was any hope to give to the other woman. "Maybe," she managed to croak.

Naomi called to the guards, "If the cage isn't destroyed, we could get it jury-rigged, fixed temporarily, and get those men out."

"You know how to fix machines?" one asked in doubt.

"I was a trader. We had to learn to fix our own ship. Port fees are expensive and repairs even higher. She knows a lot too." Naomi indicated Ren with a casual wave. Ren had very little knowledge of true engineering, but she could follow Naomi's directions. Besides, the other woman would not have the strength to do much physically. "Will you let us try?" -----------------------------------------------------------

Ren swung above the dark hole. It was a bottomless pit that sucked her courage away. A harness had been rigged around her waist so that they could lower her from above and swing her over to a set of rungs that were set into the side of the shaft, for maintenance purposes she supposed. Once on those rungs she would have to climb down on her own. Naomi was still working on the motor. Her job was to get a new cable down to the cage- if it still existed. She wondered why none of the men below who had not been on the lift had started climbing up yet. They had had enough time to have discovered the rungs from below. She tried not to imagine the reasons why men trapped in a mine shaft had not given any sign of escaping on their own. There were just too many reasons, and none of them positive.

Naomi had been able to quickly repair the hydraulic line that had failed. The motor had been a different story. It was going to take a few hours to repair the damage done to it. Naomi still wasn't very confident that it would hold up to the loads that the men would put on it. It would have been a fifteen minute repair originally, and one of the Khynah had even spotted the problem before the accident. But the other guard had been impatient and wanted to get off his shift, so he had forced the other to bring the lift up.

Now there was nothing above the ground that could be done. Someone would have to go down the shaft to see if there was anything left of the cage to reconnect to the cables and bring the men up. If not,... well, she wasn't going to think about the 'if not' yet.

The rope she was hanging from swung her hard into the face of the rock shaft. "Oof!" She spun round rapidly and the light from her head lamp swung crazily in a circle with her, disorienting her before she swung back into the rock and was able to grab onto the first of the rungs. She began descending, pacing herself, looking straight into the rock in front of her rather than aiming her light into the endless darkness below.

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His arm was broken. Pain throbbed in time to his heartbeat, and all he could manage to feel was thankful. He was grateful for the pain that knifed inside his bones and made his stomach quiver in nausea, because the alternative was to never feel anything again. When the cage had fallen out from under him, Barnes had known with certainty that there was no way he would survive. And a part of him had felt relief along with the fear. But now, in the complete darkness, pressed against other broken bodies, he was strangely grateful to be alive.

Of the eleven men that had been inside the lift at the time the cable gave, there were now only five. The others had not managed to hang on as the cage had rushed down the shaft and tumbled into the walls, bucking and thrashing like a live thing. None of them had managed to hang onto their lights, but they had managed to feel of each other in a kind of Braille assessment of their circumstances.

The cage had at one point turned at an angle in the rough shaft, lodging in against the rock. The floor canted away at a steep angle causing them to hold on with all their strength rather than plummet the rest of the way. The least shift in weight could dislodge them. So every man lay still, breathing, thinking, maybe even praying, but all helpless.

Barnes used his good arm to brace himself. He looked above, straining to see a light, knowing none would come. The Khynah would eventually get around to fixing the lift. They needed production to remain steady. Their priority would be the mine, not the prisoners trapped or injured within, so they could afford to wait until morning; he could not.

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Ren looked down. She had been steadily climbing down for fifteen minutes. How far did the shaft go down? She had no way of knowing. The rungs of the maintenance ladder disappeared below her, continuing on beyond her small beam of light.

She paused. She thought she might have heard something from below. She wanted to yell down at the men, send her voice ahead, but she knew that her vocal chords would never make a sound loud enough to be heard.

There it was again! A metallic clank. This time it was followed by a voice. It was distant, muffled- by distance or distress, she couldn't tell- but it was definitely alive!

"Help us!"

She realized that the light from her head lamp must have reached the men below when she had looked down. She could not call to them, but she could keep her light focused down so that they could see help coming. She reached up with one hand and angled the light downward. She knew the men would hold onto its hope. And she prayed that Barnes would be one of the men waiting when she reached them.

The cage was at an awkward angle. When she reached it she could tell that the men inside of it were not going to be able to help reconnect the cable. They could not move without risking the danger of all of them plummeting to their deaths. She also realized at a glance that the cage was less than half full. Some must have fallen already and died. It took her a second to gain the courage to force herself to look at the faces of the men in the cage and see if one was Barnes.

He was there! His face was smeared with dirt and a trickle of blood from a head wound. He looked exhausted, and in a great deal of pain, but he was alive. She gave him a happy salute with one hand, letting him know who had come to rescue them.

"Ren, you devil, get me out'a here!" He hollered up at her as he finally recognized her. Ren went to work connecting the cable.

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Barnes opened his tightly squeezed eyes as the cage finally rose above the surface. Air! They were in the open air! "Thank GOD!" He whispered fervently. He was a little suprised at himself as he realized that he honestly meant the expression as a prayer of thanks. He had thought he had lost all faith in a merciful god. But before today, he had thought he was more than ready to die, only to discover he wanted to live, even in this hell.

Ren grabbed his good arm and pulled him out of the cage. Naomi was standing there to throw her arms around them both. "I knew you were OK! I knew it!" Tears slid down her face. Barnes couldn't bring himself to break out of her hold, even though his broken arm was painfully squeezed. He just rested hi cheek against her hair and wept too.

"Move out! Back to quarters!" snapped one of the guards who had been waiting for the cage to be fixed. His impatience had caused the delay in the first place, but he was more than willing to take his bad humor out on a few prisoners.

Other men stumble out of the cage and staggered towards the barracks. Some were hurt badly, and leaned on companions. The cage was sent back down for the men who had been left at the bottom. Ren and Naomi led Barnes back to the quarters to bandage his arm and cuts.

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Naomi was asleep. Exhaustion, emotional and physical, had claimed her. Ren sat resting her back against the wall and thought about the day's events. Barnes must have been thinking about them too. "I won't go back down." He said.

She looked over and could see sweat on his brow, even in the cool evening air.

"I can't." He looked her in the eye. Desperation was clear to read. "I know they'll kill me, and I don't want to die," a self-mocking smile crossed his mouth, "but I can't go down there again!"

"But," Ren started to argue with him. Her voice cracked and she shrugged, asking the question without words. What was he going to do? If he fought the pit, he would be executed.

"I don't know," he answered, understanding her. His shoulders slumped in defeat. ---------------------------

By morning the plans were set. Ren had labored in her mind over how their escape could be managed. Then had needed to labor to be understood by Barnes. Her throat would constrict painfully every few words and choke her voice off. But still she went on, and finally they had both agreed on what had to be done.

Barnes would risk any fate, even death in the dessert, rather than face the dark pit again. Ren had no questions about what she would risk to be free again. And neither of them could leave Naomi behind. They both knew she was not strong and likely would die in the dessert. But she was dying here already. They would manage to take her along.

When the signal came for food, and the buckets were brought, Naomi was still sleeping. Ren carefully hid the bread inside her clothes for later. Barnes woke the other woman and they ate. Ren made Naomi drink her own share of soup, drinking only water herself. The other woman would need it all for what was ahead.

Prisoners were counted and then lead off to work, under guard. They would not be counted again until they were brought back. When they were lead outside and forced into line, Ren and Barnes hung back to the end of the line, Naomi between them. With Naomi's weakness and Barnes broken arm, their slow pace was not suspicious. "Naomi girl, be ready to follow us, whatever happens," Barnes whispered.

"What?" Startled she turned her head towards him. "What are you thinking?!"

"Shhh..." He warned her with his eyes that a guard was near by. She turned back forward and walked on, a step behind Ren. She worried. Not because she thought her friends were making a mistake to think about escape, but because she knew they would not leave her behind- and she would cause their deaths or capture if she went. She was no longer able to escape with them.

Ren was carefully casting glances, watching for a second that a guard would drop his focus and they might take advantage of it. The moment came when a man near the front of the line, one who had been trapped in the mine the day before with Barnes, began to scream. His friends were trying to calm him down, but he was quickly becoming historical. "No," he shouted, "No! I can't do it. I'll die! I can't go down, I can't!" Two men were holding him by the arms and arguing with the guards that they would get him down into the pit. They began dragging him forward again, ignoring his sobbing protests.

Ren didn't hesitate. She grabbed Naomi by one arm. Barnes took her with his good arm on the opposite side. They began running as fast as they could for the nearest cover. Naomi's heart began to pound into her chest like a hammer. Her legs fought to keep up, but the others were almost carrying her.

The guards were occupied by the hysterics of the other man long enough for all three of them to make it to cover. But that was where their luck ran out. They rounded to corner of the barracks building, heading for the dessert, and ran smack into another Khynah.

Shock riveted Ren to the spot. Before she or Barnes could react, Naomi threw herself forward into the guard and held him tight, trying to pin his arms with all her remaining strength so that he could not draw his phase weapon. "Run!!" she cried, desperately holding on.

Ren lunged to grab at Naomi to pull her away! Barnes grabbed Ren by the shoulders and shoved her hard towards the dessert. "Go! Just go!"

He moved to help Naomi, never looking back to see if Ren had continued running or not. Ren staggered back to her feet, determined to help. The guard had his blade out! With little thought he used it on Naomi. A deep slash across her belly, cutting clear through some of her internal organs! She was unable to continue the struggle. She fell at his feet and he kicked her away, turning to meet Barnes attack.

Barnes saw Naomi's limp body and went mad! With his good arm he swung with all his might, blocking the knife thrust that was aimed at his heart. The blow caused the guard to momentarily stagger backwards- Ren was there, and kicked his feet out from under him. A second kick was aimed at his head, but the Khynah was not unprepared. He grabbed her foot as she swung, using her own momentum to pull her off balance. She went down next to him, sand flying into her eyes and blinding her for critical seconds.

Before the guard could stand to renew the fight, Barnes was sitting across his chest, pinning him bodily. His blows struck with the power of rage, of hopelessness, of all the fear he had endured and all that he had lost! Bones cracked- in his hand, in the body of the man he fought, it didn't matter. He continued to strike! Again and again.

Naomi, lay in the sand. Blood stained the ground around her. Ren's stomach rebelled at the sight of her friend's body. The woman was still alive, but only for minutes. She clutched helplessly at her own wound, helpless to hold her life within. Ren fell to her knees beside her. "Naomi," she whispered. Tears fell and mixed with the blood in the sand.

Naomi looked up. She was in shock. Ren held her in her arms, and rocked her for a second. "I love y..." Naomi's words were choked off by pain.

"Shh...s'ok." Ren tried to comfort her. Naomi closed her eyes. In a second her life was gone. Ren could feel the instant change when the body she held was suddenly no longer her friend. Between one heart beat and the next, she was gone. Ren laid her down, and kissed her cheek gently.

The guard was unconscious. Barnes still straddled his chest, but his attention was on Naomi. He gulped air, as if he could not get it all the way down into his lungs. As if raw emotion was trapped inside blocking the airway. His eyes fell on something in the sand. It was the blade that had fallen from the Khynah's hand in the fight. Barnes grabbed it and thrust with all his power into the chest of the man he had beaten! "Yahh!"

Ren looked away. She didn't blame him for his hatred. She was just defeated by all the loss. She could feel a crystal hardness forming in her mind, blocking away the emotions that would shatter her. Automatically she looked around to see if they had lost their opportunity to escape. No other Khynah were in sight. No one had heard the battle that had lasted only minutes.

She grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him slightly. He shook her hand off violently. He was steeped in his own loss and rage. She shook him harder, "Go, have to go!" she rasped.

He seemed to come out of his daze then. He staggered back to his feet, giving the Khynah body one last kick. She began walking towards the dessert, sure now that he would follow. He paused only for a second, saying his own silent farewell to the woman he had loved.

----------------------------------------------------

Silva had located two mines near the volcanic plains. He had spent a day observing each. Now he had not only information about the location of major material sources and where they were being reprocessed into weapons, but he also had proof positive that Federation prisoners were being used as slaves. With this maybe he could shake the bureaucrats that were cautioning diplomacy out of their complacency. Maybe this would get action!

It had taken all his self discipline not to try to attempt a rescue on his own. The condition of the people in the camps was horrifying. They were like living corpses. The only thing that had stopped him was the knowledge that any attempt on his own would fail without question. His ship could only carry one other occupant. The prisoners would be no better off, and no one to get the proof back to Starfleet. This was the only way he could help!

Now he circled low over the volcanic lands in his stealth craft. He hoped to find at least one more mine. He wanted to be absolutely thorough. This would likely be his last opportunity to gain information.

Suddenly his scanner gave an alert beep. He looked over the readings, checking them twice. He had been scanning for large concentrations of activity, but he had set the computer to prioritize and do a secondary scan for any readings of human life. Now, according to his screen, there were two humans below. They were miles from any sort of installation, and seemed to be heading deeper into the volcanic low-lands. He changed course, heading for their location. Seismic interference and energy readings from the volcanic vents were making accurate scans difficult. They might soon disappear altogether.

A second set of readings appeared on his screen. There was a group of other life forms moving in the same direction as the humans. He couldn't tell how many, maybe five to a dozen, but they were definitely not human! ----------------------------------------------------

Every adult Khynah knew how to survive in this harshest of environments. These were the Plains of Den'e ahwa. Adolescents deemed worthy were sent to the Plane to face their final test before entering adulthood. A quick mind, a quicker body, and a knife were all that a Khynah carried. If they managed to survive the dessert heat, the volcanic terrain, the hungry and deadly predators, their own thirst and hunger, and finally cross a section of the Plane, then they would be Khynah. Legend claimed that the lava flowing from the open fishers, was the blood from an eternal wound sustained in the battle between Den'a, the mother planet, and her brother Je'falla. To die in the geb'asla test on the Plains, was to die by Den'a's own blood in her sacred womb.

Darsak led four others across the Plane. Energy tracking devices were not very useful from the ground in this region. Seismic activity and thermal vents would distort any readings. With his rivals already nipping at his position, Darsak could not afford to take the easier way of tracking the two escaped prisoners across the Plane from a shuttle. Nor could he afford to simply let the prisoners die on their own. He had no choice but to find them and make an example of them. To do anything else would be his final undoing. And so he tracked them.

He was impressed that these particular humans had survived this long. They were four days into the volcanic region. By the end of the first day he had expected to find their corpses laying in the sun, or a blood soaked patch of sand where a nendar kith had gorged on their bones. But instead they had only found signs that the humans were indeed stronger than he would have believed. Empty basca shells had proved that the humans knew how to forage for food and essential moisture. At night they had even managed to dig a hole at the base of a koto plant. The koto was one of the few plants that grew here, and its roots would give up their life giving water only if a hole were dug in the proper place and at the proper depth- too deep and the plant would seal its roots off and die; dug in the wrong place, and the plant would loose no water and your efforts would be in vain. Somehow, these humans had known exactly how to get at the koto's water. They were surviving, and managing to stay ahead of Darsak's hunters.

But not for long- this morning Darsak had found the signs that a nendar kith was trailing the humans. In their weakened state, they would not be able to elude the cunning predator for long. Soon, Darsak would be able to end this annoying chase and return to his command, where he belonged. A'lten and Negr'a would have to acknowledge that his strength had not diminished, and he would be able to continue his rise in power.

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Ren sat in the sand letting her head droop forward, hands draped across her knees. Barnes sat a few feet away, barely able to remain upright. Their bodies were beginning to show the effects of deprivation. She knew that they could not go on much longer. She wasn't even sure where they were trying to get to. They had simply been getting away, heading into the vast volcanic plane and trying to survive, taking one day, one hour, one minute as it came.

One of the small mollusks that seemed to own the dessert crawled into her shadow, seeking shelter from the heat. She reached out and grabbed its scaly body. Beneath its curved shell, its little legs scrambled at air, searching for purchase to escape. She gouged her fingers in beside its soft flesh and pulled the casing loose, careful to hold it upside down to catch any fluids in the cup of the shell. Barnes took his share without comment, too tired to talk.

She could feel a little strength return. The mollusks were actually not bad to eat. What was the old joke? "Tastes like chicken." They seemed to be high in protein and calories. More important, they carried water in their bodies. 'Mobile dessert survival rations', she thought. 'I'll recommend them as a replacement for NSP's when I get back.' She thought of Jimmy Morgan's complaints that last day before their capture. He had loved to make a game out of renaming the survival packets. "NS, nutri-solution, noxious stuff, normally sucks, nasty shit," he would say. He might have liked these. Ren ate her final bite and stood up.

Since the night before, Ren had had a feeling that someone was watching them. Her mind told her that if the Khynah had been close enough to see them, they would not be alive now. But she could not shake the feeling. Nervously she scanned the horizon, then searched closer to them, trying to see any sign of danger. Nothing moved. Towards the sun there was a set of wind-washed dunes that blocked her view.

A blood curdling scream was the only warning! A beast measuring two meters long sprinted over one of the dunes. Its attack coming from the direction of the sun, left them blinded for a second as they tried to see what was coming at them. Ren didn't even have time to move! Claws were ripping into her back and the momentum of solid muscles carried her to the ground! Barnes shouted, trying to distract the animal. They had no weapons, not even a club. He was powerless to do anything!

In a last effort, Barnes threw his own body at the beast!

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The group following the humans was getting closer, but they were on foot, and he was in a ship. He would reach them first! A smile played across Silva's lips and he could feel a very real satisfaction knowing that he was going to steal away two prisoners from those damn monsters. His craft was built to carry two normal sized humans. But somehow he was going to squeeze three in. He was not leaving either of those people behind. They were all three going to get home. Or he would die trying!

He arrowed in on their signal. His readings of their life signs grew stronger the closer he got, but it wasn't until he was actually in visual range that he picked up signs of the nendar kith. He could see that it had just attacked. The Two humans were locked in a struggle for their lives, and losing, from the looks of it!

Silva wasted no time. He set the ship down almost on top of the three turbulent bodies. His phaser was in his hand before his feet hit the ground. One shot, he just needed one shot! One human was locked onto the creature's back, trying with all his might to get his arm around its neck to squeeze it in a head lock. Beneath it was another human. Silva couldn't see if that person was still alive. But there was no doubt that they were injured. Blood stained the sands around the three.

"Get out of the way!" he shouted to the man.

He showed no signs of hearing, but the animal did! Hearing another possible threat from behind, it turned away from its first victim, the man still dangling form its back like a child having a piggy-back ride. It howled a challenge and lunged forward! The human dropped off like a shapeless sack into the sand. Silva fired at point blank range, full power, into its chest. The animal simply vaporized! One second it was a deadly threat; the next, it was no more than a faint smell of burned tissue in the air.

The man who had fought with the beast moved to the other human's side quickly, feeling for a pulse with his one good hand. Silva could tell it was a woman now. She was losing a lot of blood, but she was alive. "Thank God," he whispered. He wondered how long the two had been in the dessert.

Ren opened her eyes and groaned, her voice cracking with pain and her scarred vocal chords. Barnes was leaning over her. His face ashen with shock and anxiety. "Don't move," he told her forcefully, but she could hear his worry in his voice. He was scared she was going to die like Naomi.

Then she looked over his shoulder. A man was coming, behind him she could see a ship, small but real! Could she be hallucinating? She had often heard that people saw visions of salvation when they were dying.

"My God, is it you Ren?!" She knew that voice. Her mind tried to chase a connection to the memory, but couldn't lock onto it. "REN!"

Silva fell to his knees beside the injured woman. He had never let himself truly believe that he would ever see her again. She was alive! But not for long if he didn't get her out of here! She was badly hurt. And he knew that the Khynah were not far off. They could come across them at any minute! He had to get them out of here!

Silva raced to his ship and pulled out his first aid kit. He was no doctor, but he knew that the priority was to stop the bleeding and then treat her for shock. Her more serious injuries would be healed back in a real sick bay- if they made it. Quickly he used the supplies in the kit to stanch the flow of blood. Barnes worked beside him. After a brief questioning look, as if the man were afraid to believe his own senses, he had accepted the fact that they were being rescued. But Silva could see that he was also in shock.

Together they lifted Ren into the ship. Her frame was so light. Silva could not imagine what she must have gone through. The man was not in much better shape. He squeezed in beside Ren, holding her tightly like a child. There was a sense of desperation in his need to hang onto Ren. Silva climbed into the pilot's seat and readied to take off.

Ren was conscious as they left the ground. She could not seem to believe that she was going to live. The ship, it wasn't a hallucination! The man, she knew him, he was real too! And Barnes was also alive. It was too much to grasp.

She let her eyes drift out of the window. Below, the violent dessert Plains began to fall away. Along one ridge Ren caught sight of what looked like four Khynah guards and the commander Darsak. They were looking up at the ship as it disappeared from the limits of their vision.

Ren watched them receded. Against the hazy backdrop of fire and dessert, they looked like they were being consumed. She had crossed the Plains of fire and survived to see her enemies consumed. It was her last thought as she fell into a deep healing sleep, her head against Barnes' shoulder, Silva carrying them all back to safety and the Federation.