The Betazoid lieutenant and the Andorian ensign sat together at a corner table in silence, both trying to look casual with their slow sipping of drinks, both actually desperately trying to come up with some sort of strategy.
At first, Katriel had intended to use the console to send a message, encrypted or otherwise. But after nearly forty minutes of sending missives on the various, but extremely limited, frequencies available to the basic terminal, she still had received nothing in response and was forced to conclude that either no one was paying attention or outbound communications were being thwarted somehow.
In the end, the console was only useful for calling up the current passenger manifest, which she perused for potential allies. Katriel ruefully reflected that she should be grateful she was able to find even one other Starfleet officer on board, instead of being disconsolate that she hadn’t found someone with more experience in thwarting criminal proceedings. Ensign Ciroe, though not in uniform, had agreed that something should be done, but was just as uncertain as to how to proceed.
We don’t know how many there are, he had thought loudly, knowing that Katriel was specifically listening to him, in order to communicate silently about their plans. And they look just like other passengers. How will we know who is a hostile and who is just a civilian? Even if we disabled one, how will we find the others? What if there are twenty of them on board, far too many for us to handle? You might be able to read their intentions, but I wouldn’t be able to until it was too late. Even in the remote chance that we get the upper hand, they could turn it so quickly by taking hostages.
There were too many variables. The counselor took a deep breath, as if that would bring calm with it, and tried to focus. Then, as sudden as the chill up one’s spine, a memory surfaced and whispered.
… Sometimes, when I get stuck in my planning, I play a little game …
Unconsciously, her gaze wandered over the other passengers, before pausing on one sitting a few tables away. A big, burly alien of some sort, Katriel was not able to readily identify his species, with faint scars patterning his thick skin and no identifiable nose. A being like him looked as though he’d have no trouble subduing any number of hostiles just by flailing his arms. If it weren’t for the tiny spectacles over his eyes and his scholarly air as he pondered over his reading material, Katriel might have considered recruiting him to their cause.
How would he solve the problem…?
Katriel’s lips twitched into a faint smile.
((prequel here))