Ephriam held his stomach and braced it as it grumbled. To say he felt slightly queasy would be an understatement but he had attempted to put his bravest demeanour on. He had joined Ay’dar on their scheduled break for a bite to eat and in a sad attempt to connect with him more, Ephriam had been brave and bold in his request to have gagh as well. 

“Ay’dar… If I ever ask you for another bowl of gagh ever again. I want you to give me your usual growl and snarl and remind me I don’t enjoy feeling my food squirm in my abdomen please.” Ephriam stated this meekly and leaned against the turbolift wall in an attempt to brace himself even more.

This amused Ay’dar. He recalled the early days of his integration into the Klingon house, the constant need to prove his worth gnawing at him. The first time he saw Gagh, his stomach churned at the sight of the wriggling worms. Each bite had been a battle, his Human side revolting against the texture and taste. But with time, he learned to mask his discomfort, swallowing the live food with a stoic expression, each meal a step closer to acceptance. Now, he consumed it with ease, valuing its nutrition and the strength it symbolized.

He turned to Ephraim, a mischievous glint in his eye, and slapped his shoulders with a hearty thud, exclaiming, “It is a real warrior’s meal, Andrasin!”

“Now I know why Klingons don’t fear dying in the heat of battle, especially if this is what they have to eat just before it,” Ephriam replied in a joking manner but his face quickly shifted to one of concern that it may not be received as such. 

“That didn’t come out quite right… Ermm” Lost for words now, Ephriam stared awkwardly at Ay’dar. 

Ay’dar’s lips twitched, fighting back a grin as he suppressed the urge to laugh outright. Instead, he opted for a more subtle approach, letting out a deliberate snort that echoed in the tense atmosphere. The sound morphed seamlessly into a low, rumbling growl, emanating from deep within his chest.

He relished the discomfort that settled over the Chief Scientist, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he observed the man’s uneasy demeanor. Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, each passing moment thick with anticipation.

Finally, Ay’dar broke the silence, his voice dripping with controlled intensity. “You’re lucky,” he began, his tone measured but unmistakably firm, “that I’m only half Klingon. It means I can only be half as offended by your xenophobic remark.” 

“Xenophobic – No – I – Ermmm.” Ephriam’s expression turned to one of horror, his face flushed a crimson red and he bit his bottom lip nervously. “I certainly did not mean it that way. I’m a scientist. I value the diversity in life.” His stomach made a churning sound and he instinctively braced it and his brow began to form a sweaty film.

Ay’dar stifled a grin as he remarked, “If you truly valued diversity, you would love gagh. There’s no meal with a greater variety of life.”

Suddenly the turbolift came to a sharp halt, with more force than either of them could have preparred for. Coupled with this was a sudden and complete darkness. The sudden lack of inertial dampeners caused Ephriam to lose his footing and slam into the side of the turbolift before he met the deck plating of the floor. 

Ay’dar’s fingers clamped onto the siderail just as his body rocketed toward the ceiling. The force nearly tore him away, but he held on, muscles straining. Suddenly, the dampeners kicked back in, and he was yanked down with terrifying speed. He hurtled headfirst into the floor, the impact resonating through his massive, chiseled body. A sickening crunch echoed in his ears, pain exploding in his skull. His vision blurred, then faded to black as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Ephriam took notice of the cool feeling of the deck plating against the side of his cheek. He wiggled his toes and fingers and this progressed to movement in his arms and legs, an attempt to make sure he hadn’t injured himself. “Ay’dar… You okay?” He managed to softly ask this as he attempted to get his own bearings, his disorientation only exemplified by the darkness surrounding them. 

Silence.

The emergency lighting had activated, and Ephriam looked at Ay’dar’s still body, curled up slightly due to the confines of the lift and how he had landed. His heartbeat started to race as adrenaline kicked in. Ay’dar’s silence meant that he likely was not okay. Ephriam moved over slowly and started to pat his colleague’s shoulder. He repeated himself once more, “Ay’dar… You okay?” 

Silence.

“Adrasin to Sickbay. Medical emergency in turbolift two.” Ephriam tapped his combadge and attempted to send an SOS for help. 

Silence. 

“Okay, Ephriam. Remember your basics here. Airway – Breathing – Circulation.” Ephriam began mumbling to himself in a somewhat shaky manner but examined whether his colleague was breathing. He fought the urge to catastrophize further. Thoughts of his newest friend and one of his closest colleagues on board dying went through his mind, but he worked hard to shove those away and focus on his check. 

“Okay – you’re breathing. Shallow breaths.” Ephriam sighed in relief and quickly wiped away a tear that was forming in his left eye. Clearly the thoughts he had pushed away were still affecting him. He felt manually for a pulse – it was faint and thready feeling but present as well. 

“Okay. Not dead.” Ephriam verbalized this as well in an attempt to help calm himself further. There had been no response to his call for help, which meant there were issues with internal communications. Some power failure interfered with the operations of the turboift and other systems as well.

Ephriam knew that it was essentially a waiting game at this point.