Milo peered down one direction of the dark corridor and then the other. It was still as a coffin and nearly as dark. Wires and conduits hung from the sagging ceiling, and with no air movement, the humid Betazed air felt sweltering and unbearable.

Mayoko swung her newly activated wrist torch down both directions of the corridor, getting her bearings.

“The main comms array was in the engineering section, which is in pieces now,” she commented, trying to acclimatize to the smell of decay. “But the auxiliary should still be intact. This way.” She made motions to set off towards what had been the front of the Saucer.

“Let’s go,” Milo said, searching for the tell-tell distortion of a Jem’Hadar cloak.  There aren’t any Jem’Hadar in here.  Who would want to stand in a hot box if someone entered?  

Heading off after Mayoko, her own wrist torch lighting the way, Kannina head was on a swivel. Her senses were off so she really ignored them while concentrating on the task at hand. Right now, the section they were in was unpowered, other than local connections. “Eyes peeled for portable power sources and gadgets. Things we can easily grab and go or modify.”

Thump.

Milo spun in the direction of the sound, his finger falling to the trigger of his rifle as he brought it to his cheek. The corridor was empty and dark. The only movement was the swaying wires hanging from the ceiling, marking their passage through them.  He snarled as he sighted down the barrel of his weapon from one dark corner to the other, seeking the source of the sound. “Ya’ll hear that?” he asked in a low voice.

Kannina was already on edge. Milo’s comment didn’t help. Stopping for a second, she remained motionless in a crouch, alert to anything else going on in the area.

All Mayoko heard was soft footfalls on the carpet and the soft rustle of uniforms. She looked at Milo and, once she was sure she had his attention, shook her head, her priority quickly returning to scanning the empty corridors. It was spooky.as hell. Every so often, they would skirt around the fallen body of a dead crew member. Fortunately, at least from Mayoko’s point of view, she would have had to examine them closely to recognize anyone, such was the time between the crash and their Scavenger mission fortunately, because Mayoko might have lost what composure she did have if she were to spot a past friend.

Milo lowered the barrel of the rifle but kept his grip firm, the butt snug against his shoulder. The silence around him was thick, broken only by faint creaks that seemed to echo from every shadow. He could smell the sourness clinging to him, sweat from hours past mixing with fresh beads on his neck. Getting jumpy in your old age, huh? he thought, irritated by the quick spike of his pulse. He curled his lip toward the noise he thought he had heard, muttering aloud, “Let’s keep moving. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Yes, sir.” Mayoko acknowledged. She no more wanted to stay in the wreck than Milo did. The creeps was one thing but Mayoko found it sinister to the extreme. Places she knew and people she had served with came and went as the team moved through the ship, all of them framed in a new light of death, destruction and decay. Mayoko kept her phaser’s torch off the floor, trying not to look at the bodies they passed. She would say a prayer for them all later.

The bridge was as black as a tomb. Unlike other parts of the wreck, where fractured hull sections or windows allowed thin light to filter in, there was only oppressive darkness here. Bloated forms of the former crew lay scattered on the buckled deck, the still air heavy with the reek of putrid decay. Milo frowned, eyes heavy with sorrow for the lives lost, though somewhere inside, he felt conflicted. I’m alive, but is this any way to live? Dodging Dominion patrols, scrounging for scraps, with starvation and fear as our constant companions… Maybe they’re the lucky ones.

Holding his beacon ahead, he finally found the auxiliary power terminal. A faint red button blinked against an otherwise blank touch panel. He pressed it, and the control panel flickered to life. With a few swift commands, the emergency lights powered up, dim and red, their sickly glow straining his eyes. Panels around him began to hum, machinery whirring softly, while some screens, still tethered to independent cores, displayed fragmented system data. Severed from the ship’s computer, others showed only a flickering static haze.

As the only ‘local’ specifically familiar with Ravensbridge systems Mayoko let her weapon drop to her side and started analyzing panel readouts.

“Emergency power is at five percent,” she said quietly, her eyes scanning the reddened, depleted power bars on the monitor. “Enough to run diagnostics on the equipment we need but we better be fast. The communications array is intact, not enough power to send anything but… it’s responding to inputs. There’s no damage.”

Milo cocked his head at her, surprised, “Well, at least one thing is going as planned.  Rip it out and take it with us? Not sure how we are going to power it, but I guess one problem at a time.”

“Power is easier than building.” Kannina offered, as she worked. “Mayoko? Can you tell how much damage there is between the array and the nearest ODN? Otherwise, Milo’s right. We take it with us.”

Thump.

Milo spun, raising his rifle as his wrist beacon cut arcs of white-yellow through the dark. His lip curled as his eyes darted, his whole body tense, ears straining for the faintest sound. The oppressive silence pressed down, his palms slick with sweat. He held his breath not daring to mask any hint of the sound.

Mayoko’s finger stopped millimeters away from the panel she was checking. Beeps of the Lcars system halted abruptly and she turned sharply looking in the direction of the sound. Shaking hands fumbled for her weapon and she moved the stock into her shoulder ready to raise it if needed.

“Shit,” Kannina said mentally. If they were quiet, too many possibilities came to mind. She stayed quiet, in deed and thought, though her free hand palmed a type I cricket phaser.

Milo swept the bridge with his wrist beacon, its light slicing through the darkness to reveal destroyed panels and uprooted consoles. Then, something caught his eye—the tell-tale swing of optical wires swaying alongside a loose conduit.  He squeezed the trigger and the polaron beam lanced out slamming harmlessly into the far wall exploding the duranium bulkhead into a shower of sparks leaving a dull red glowing ring around a newly formed hole.

In a normal tone, Kannina, said, “Okay, we are all a bit jumpy.” Thinking about the equipment, she wondered just how much would be working after that much damage. “Maybe we should move to auxiliary control, the components look pretty trashed here and I would not want to be on the bridge if the Uglies saw that energy spike. ” She was careful not to place blame, as it easily could have been any of them that would’ve fired the shot.

Milo didn’t look away, the rifle butt still pressed tightly against his shoulder. He heard something, and that bit of conduit and optic cable couldn’t have swung on its own. Curling his lip, he forced his gaze to stay steady, searching the shadows for any sign of movement. The faint tang of mildew and overpowering stench of decay assailed his senses as he inhaled deeply, testing the air for the telltale scent of a Jem’Hadar. A dog would come in handy right about now, he thought.

As Milo began to relax, the air around them shimmered and distorted. Without warning, eight Jem’Hadar soldiers emerged from their shrouds, their weapons trained on the Starfleet team.

Milo’s lips curled into a snarl, his finger instinctively tightening on the trigger of his rifle. For a moment, his heart hammered with the urge to fight, but reason quickly overtook him. There was no escape from this. Resistance would only ensure their deaths.

With a slow, deliberate exhale, he lowered his weapon, letting it slip from his grasp to the deck with a clatter. Raising his hands in surrender, he locked eyes with the Jem’Hadar first,  his expression a mix of defiance and resignation. This wasn’t the end he wanted, but it was the only way to stay alive—for now.

Slow, rhythmic beats thumped in Mayoko’s chest. She swallowed hard and placed her rifle on the floor somewhat automatically. Her head swam with fear. Her thoughts lingered on one thing, the same thing that had been in the back of her mind ever since the war started. They had been captured. What would happen now? She might have thrown up, but she was too afraid.