The best he could do was to try to drag things out, to keep himself and Kirk alive until Pioneer could find them. Despite their hopes, their move to a new location had offered no opportunities to reach a transmitter or otherwise secure their escape. Damreg had kept them in harsher, more austere conditions than before. Vons had at least understood that mistreating Grev could undermine his memory and cognitive skills, so he had granted the communications officer relatively comfortable working conditions and saved his torture for Kirk. Damreg had been equally rough on them both—plus microgravity made Grev woozy and upset his digestion. Ironically, this was to Grev’s benefit, for it slowed his work and kept him and Kirk alive longer.
The question was whether that was really a desirable outcome. “Grev,” Kirk asked a while after Damreg had finished gloating and left, “do you think we should . . . find some way to . . . provoke them to kill us?”
“I think that would be a Pyrrhic victory at this point,” Grev replied carefully, hoping the historical allusion would go over any listeners’ heads. The truth, which he was in no hurry to reveal to Damreg, was that Grev had already laid sufficient groundwork that any competent operator of the decryption equipment could complete the task without him.
Kirk nodded, intuiting Grev’s meaning. “Then . . . maybe we should’ve done it days ago. Maybe if we were braver . . .”
Grev interrupted. “Where there is life, there is hope,” he said, adding an affirming nod.
The human stared. “How can you still do that? No matter what, you always try to cheer everyone up.”
“Heh. Everyone?” The Tellarite shook his head. “At this point I’m just trying to keep myself going.”
After a solemn silence, Kirk spoke again. “You know what? You were right.”
“Hm?”
“I should’ve asked Val out while I had the chance.”
“Hm.”
“I mean, she would’ve said no. Probably. But at least I would’ve asked. Let her know . . . that I think she’s worth asking out.”
Grev smiled. “Sam?”
“Hm?”
“I think you’re worth asking out.”
Kirk threw him a look. “Grev? Are you asking me out?”
Before the communications officer could answer, he heard a sound from beyond the metal hatch. He listened carefully, and in a moment he distinguished voices raised in alarm—and shots being fired. “I’ll get back to you,” he said.
The noises got louder, the shots coming closer. Then the hatch burst open and Damreg pulled himself inside just before an energy beam speared the air where he had been. He held on to the frame for leverage as he desperately dragged the hatch closed. He released his drawn weapon to do so, but in the microgravity it stayed too close to his grip for Grev or Kirk to make a grab for it. With the hatch shut, he grabbed the gun once more and waved it at them both. “You’re my hostage, Tellarite! You’re getting me out of here! And you, human—you’re dead weight.” He fixed his aim on Kirk.
The hatch blew open behind him, knocking the Zami assassin forward and sending his shot flying into the asteroidal rock. He tumbled in midair, trying to bring his weapon to bear on Valeria Williams as she surged into the room. But she moved with far more confidence in the negligible gravity, pushing herself off the frame to fly feet-first into his midsection. He spasmed, sending the gun flying, but he recovered and went for her throat. Before his meaty grip could close around her slender neck, she joined her hands into a club and delivered a fierce chop to his carotid. Damreg went limp in midair, sinking toward the floor in a slow spin.
Williams turned to Grev and Kirk, who were staring at her in amazement. “You good?” she asked. They nodded dumbly. “I need words, guys. You functional?”
“We’re, we’re good,” Grev said.
“Yes,” Kirk put in, grinning. “We’re fine now.”
“We’re just very glad to see you,” Grev gushed.
“Mutual. Where are they keeping the archives?”
“We’ll take you there.”
“Okay, come on. I’ll clear the corridor.”
She ducked outside, fearlessly rejoining the firefight that was still going on. As Grev helped Kirk to his feet, he leaned over to whisper in his friend’s ear.
“You should definitely ask her out.”
U.S.S. Pioneer
“Williams to Pioneer,” came the lieutenant’s voice over the bridge speaker. “I’m back in the shuttle. Sam and Grev are with me, and so’s the archive.” Malcolm Reed’s heart lifted, but he permitted himself only a small smile of contentment, though Mayweather and the rest of the bridge crew expressed their gratitude more vocally. “Grev wiped the outpost’s database, but there’s no telling what information they managed to send offsite,” Williams went on.