The Muthrog Incident - Part 5

Hoggins was barely conscious when he was taken to sickbay. Every part of him ached and he tried not to move but he was inevitably bounced about a fair bit being carried by one of the medics. He tried to bare the pain, he tried to refocus his thoughts but nothing worked.

“Steady Sam, we're almost there,” said the medic. Hoggins couldn't really hear what was being said, the ringing in his ears drowned out all other sounds. The only thing he could do was not to scream too much and count on his crew mate to take care of him. Strangely, the latter was probably harder to do. Trust and reliance were not things that came easily to Hoggins. He wondered if that was the reason why he was pushing Miles away, that he didn't want to be taken care off and he wasn't interested in coddling another person. He realized immediately how selfish and absurd that sounded. But also how true it was to him.

A few more agonizing turns later he heard the medic's muffled yell as they came through a doorway. He could feel himself being lifted off the medic's arms and lowered onto a bed as another medics took over his care. Hoggins would have felt more comfortable if it was Doctor DeSalle but he was too out of it to resist. He was too hurt to do anything but groan.

…

“Why have these Cintays attacked us so persistently? Surely they can see that we are not a Muthrog ship!” yelled Commander Holts slamming his fist on the table. He startled Je-El and for the first time since the alien came on board Starlight, his superiority and confidence was gone.

“Look Je-El, we want to get out of here in one piece, and so do you. Let us help you clear up this... misunderstanding between the Muthrog and the Cintay,” said Hunt on cue as the 'good cop'.

“Tell us why they want you!” said Holts leaning in close to the Muthrog. For a moment Hunt wondered if his first officer wasn't really venting his anger. From his torn uniform and the multiple cuts on his arm and body, Hunt knew that the commander must have crawled through a lot of broken bulkheads and debris to get to the briefing room. “Why do they want you!” hissed Holts.

“Je-El, are your ships within range to come to our aid?” said Hunt sitting down and staring intently at the Muthrog.

“They won't get here for another six hours,” whimpered Je-El who looked down at his lap.

“We'd be space dust in six hours!” barked Holts as he straightened up and turned to look out the porthole.

“Captain,” came a voice over the scarab. “We are being hailed by the Cintay.”

“Patch it through to this station,” said Hunt eagerly. Finally, a response. It would have been horrible if they were destroyed without ever seeing the face of their attacker.

A holoscreen was projected over the table and staring back at them was the face that was blank but for a round hole where a mouth sound be. Hunt tapped at the controls to make sure the translation mode was on.

“Surrender!” came the Cintay before Hunt could even do his standard greeting.

“We are not your -” started Hunt.

“Surrender the Muthrog!” cut in the Cintay. Hunt glanced at Je-El and saw that he was trembling.

“So you were right Je-El, it is you and only you that they want,” said Holts with a smirk on his face. “Captain, I say we give them what they came here for.”

“We would like to know why you have such hostilities towards the Muthrog,” said Hunt trying his best to look diplomatic. “I assure you that Je-El is a passenger on board, we have no stake in your dispute and we have no interest in your quarrels. But we would like to mediate for a resolution for both you and the Muthrog.”

The Cintay on the screen paused as if to consider what was being said. Hunt prayed that the translator on their end was getting all that he was trying to say.

“Agreed.”

“We would need assurances that you would not attack us once we're out of the nebula.”

“Agreed.”

“Captain?”

“I know, commander, but we need to take the first step to show good faith with our new friends, right...Mister...?

“Olu,” said the Cintay. “And we value your trust.” And with that the holoscreen turned off.

“You trust 'em Jon?” asked Holts, who already knew what the captain would say.

“I don't think we have much of a choice,” said Hunt. “Check on our secondary defenses and see we can bring it online. I am hopeful but let's not be stupid.” He turned and stared at Je-El. “It's about time we found out what crimes we've been paying for.”

…

Hoggins was still drowsy from the drugs injected into his system. He could hardly turn his head as more people, some alive, some not, were brought into sickbay. He fought his body from going under the sedatives and he tried to stay alert by observing commotion in sickbay. The ringing in his ears were still deafening but he could read the lips of one of the medics as they carried a badly burned body into sickbay. The body was nearly unrecognizable under the layer of soot and charred skin but he knew who it was.

Hoggins lost his will to fight the sedatives, in fact wanted to be knocked out immediately. The last thoughts that screamed in his head before the darkness took him was, “Miles! No please, god no!”