Mestral’s Legacy: Chapter 38

Something large, solid, and furious knocked Michael to the ground. He and his assailant went tumbling off into the darkness just as T’Pol managed to snap the weakened link in the chain keeping her right arm captive. Sitting up, she kept her only weapon–the length of chain tethered to her wrist–at the ready, though for the moment it was unneeded.

The darkness swallowed the shadowy forms of Michael and his assailant as the cave echoed with grunts of exertion and the muffled sounds of blows connecting with their targets. The chemical light stick had been kicked to the side, and its pale green glow now cast grotesque shadows onto the walls of the cave. Free of the assault of Michael’s emotions, T’Pol senses cleared enough realise that the cave was a lot more crowded than it had been minutes ago.

The tearing of duct tape was heard from where Alaia had been last. She could smell someone else, someone male, near her. Tensing, T’Pol readied her free arm, but after a moment it was clear that this male had no interest in her. There was something foreign, yet oddly familiar about the scent. Vulcan.

In the moment that she had taken to assess the situation, the noises from the recesses of the cave stopped. The battle was won. A heavy bundle was ejected from the darkness, landing on her. The weight forced the air from her lungs, threatening to smother her. Reflexively she swung her arm, the chain whipping through the darkness and connecting with flesh with a satisfying thump. The bundle didn’t move, but groaned–in a familiar way. T’Pol’s stomach contracted, her suspicion confirmed as the other combatant stumbled out of the darkness, black oozing from his injuries.

Michael’s eyes glittered with rage as he stumbled towards them, but his eyes weren’t searching for T’Pol. His eyes were fixed on Vorak, hunched over Alaia. The couple was aware only of each other’s presence, the sphere of their world reduced to the other’s touch. That changed as the distance between the two males closed.

It was the scent. Messages gone awry, biochemical molecules of desire triggering a chemical cascade, a primal response that the higher brain could not override. Plaktow. Even a vulcan could not ignore the challenge carried by the air currents swirling through the cave. As a teenager, T’Pol had heard stories of males fighting over women, or fighting each other to the death. The stories were told both as an explanation and a warning to keep males in the throes of Pon Farr apart from society–and from each other.

Another dark form emerged from the darkness and interposed itself between the two enraged males. This male demanded restraint, peace–impossible demands under the circumstances. He feinted left, then right, trying to cut Michael off. The green glow of the light stick shifted as it was kicked to the side. The shifting light revealed the distinctive outline of a MACO against the wall of the cave, near the entrance to the chamber. His weapon was raised and trained on Michael, but the other male blocked his shot.

“Daniel, move!” Phlox–she couldn’t see the doctor but there was no mistaking her friend’s voice.

His adversary distracted, Michael launched himself at the obstacle between him and Vorak. The MACO chose that moment to take his shot. Though equally matched in strength, rage fueled the fury of one and they tumbled to the ground. The shot hit Daniel in the back. Faced with a suddenly unconscious adversary, Michael abandoned the limp form and launched himself at Vorak.

The two males tumbled to the ground, pummeling each other in a hormonally-fueled frenzy. The MACO raised his weapon again, but before he could fire his round he was tackled by an enraged Alaia protecting her mate. He had classed her as a friendly–a potentially fatal mistake–not realising that she too was at the mercy of the biochemical maelstrom of Pon Farr. She was upon him before he could compensate for his mistake.

Her hand sought his neck with the precision of a physician well acquainted with human anatomy, acquainted enough not to be impeded by the dense darkness. It took only a second. He crumpled to the floor. His weapon skittered over the rock. The ensuing silence was broken only by the sounds of the mortal combat that continued unabated. The men had a hold of each other, neither willing to loosen their grip as they spun wildly, ricocheting off the cave walls. Neither of them saw the cylindrical green glow stick on the cave floor.

Manufactured as survival gear, the light was made for harsher conditions that the momentary force of a two hundred pound weight coming down on it. The cylinder maintained its shape–as it was designed to do–and rolled, as its design dictated. This brought the combined weight of the combatants upon it, and it flung them upward as it spun away, bouncing across the rocky floor, light dancing crazily in all directions, illuminating the surreal image of the two combatants momentarily suspended in mid-air. They fell to the floor in a heap of whirling limbs, rolling closer to T’Pol and Jonathan’s unconscious form.

One slammed the head of the other against the metal stake anchoring the chain at her left foot. The blow was hard enough that the vibration was carried along the chain. Dazed, he lay motionless at her foot, dark hair spilling haphazardly about his head. Michael loomed over the vulcan’s limp form, oblivious to a blue glow that was beginning to build in the cave.

Michael momentarily disappeared from view, ducking down to search the cave floor with his hands. T’Pol saw Alaia standing behind him, her body pulsing with blue light. As Michael rose up over Vorak, a large, jagged rock clutched in his hand, the diffuse light coalesced in Alaia’s hands until they disappeared behind the roiling blue energy focussed there, and then the blue energy reached out and bridged the distance between brother and sister. Michael fell to the floor writhing in agony, fingers contracted around the rock–impossibly crushing it, fragments spraying in all directions–as he tried to escape the energy coursing through his body. The energy charged lasted long after his body stopped moving, and then slowly dissipated, leaving those in the cave who were still conscious agape at the sight, including Alaia.

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