A Fight For Life

[John Randall 0]

OFFICIAL LOG

LT. (j.g.) JOHN RANDALL

USS CHALLENGER

 

(Personal Log Stardate 11206.17)

 

 

The doctor and Randall materialized at a site that showed little signs

of work. The Argonian winked at John and motioned for the engineer to

follow him. They walked into the woods for about a quarter of a mile, and

came out into another clearing which clearly contained the wreckage of an

ancient ship. There were pieces of debris still strewn around the clearing,

but what drew John's eye was a console leaning against a nearby tree. The

doctor saw Randall staring at the console, and gave his version of a human

smile.

 

I see you have located the reason for your presence here, lieutenant.

 

John nodded slowly, barely turning his head. "I guess that's what I'm

here to look at," he breathed.

 

It is indeed. Let us take a closer look, shall we?

 

John nodded again, and the doctor took him gently by the elbow, leading

him to the console. Randall looked it over, then focused on the writing that

labeled each switch and button. After a moment or two, he looked over at the

doctor. "The admiral was wrong, Doctor," he said. "This writing is ancient Cyrillic,

a dialect of the Russian language on Earth."

 

Are you sure, lieutenant?

 

John nodded. "This is one of the languages I speciallized in at Starfleet Academy,"

he replied. "I'd know these symbols anywhere. This console would have been in the

engine room of the ship. There are controls for the propulsion units and also the

storage tanks which housed their fuel. Doctor, this ship ran on hydrogen, if you can

believe it." The doctor gave him a sharp glance.

 

I will ask once more, lieutenant. Are you absolutely sure about your findings?

 

John nodded. "I'd bet my short career on it, sir. From the looks of the symbols

and the writing depicted here, and from the alloy that this console was made from, I

would say this ship dates back to the early 21st century on Earth." The Argonian

stared at the young engineer. "The time span would be about right for this ship to have

gotten this far into space, sir. It would have taken them 22 years just to leave Earth's

solar system, which was just beginning to be explored and colonized in those days."

 

How long would you say these remains have been here, lieutenant?

 

"That's hard to say, Doctor. We don't really know what percentage of the speed

of light was for this ship, and remember, this ship was in space before Zefram Cochrane

had discovered the secret of the warp drive. As a matter of fact, I would hazard a guess

that Cochrane was still a child when this ship was launched. And, you might recall, about

halfway through the 21st century, World War III happened on Earth. This ship was way

before that time," said John. "But, at the same time, this ship was very innovative for that

time period as well. I wonder how long they were able to stay in contact with Earth.

 

And I have another question, Doctor. This ship would have to have been manned to

operate the ship systems. We have wreckage here; there should have been human remains

as well. Where are they?" The Argonian slowly gave his version of a nod.

 

You are right, lieutenant. I don't think anyone had thought about that.

 

John looked at him. "Here's another; what made the ship crash? We know from history

the Romulans and the Klingons both were already spacefarers by that time. Is it possible

this craft was shot down because it would have been what we humans call 'easy pickings'?"

 

Or it could have been something as simple as an asteroid hit, lieutenant.

 

John nodded. "It could have been, sir, but I don't think so. Look closely at this little

section of the console here." The doctor moved to Randall's side to get a closer look.

 

That has the characteristics of a burn or scorch mark, John.

 

Randall nodded. "I think this ship was shot down and plundered for whatever it held,

doctor. There may not be any human remains because they may have been vaporized."

Suddenly, a chuckle sounded from behind them, and the two men whirled to find disruptors

pointed at them by five Romulans and a solitary Klingon.

 

"An astute observation, my human friend," said one of the Romulans. He then turned

slightly toward the Klingon, who had a murderous look on his face. "I told you, Krenn, that

site was just a little too tidy for my taste. This is what we've been looking for." The Klingon

growled low in his throat. "Federation scum!" he spat, and then pointed at Randall. "You

will tell me all you know about the ship that crashed here!" John stared back at the Klingon.

"Why are you interested in a 200-year-old vessel?" he asked. The Klingon roared, jumped

forward, lowered his disruptor, and swung his fist at the young engineer.

 

Randall evaded the punch, and whirled with a kick to the side of the stunned Klingon's

head. It crashed to the ground, and looked up with surprise at the Starfleet engineer. The

Romulan who had spoken earlier was grinning ear to ear. "Well, well, our Starfleet friend has

hand-to-hand combat abilities," he said. "Interesting. Tell me, Lieutenant, I see by the pips on

your collar. Would you be interested in taking on my Klingon friend here in a match of combat?"

John glowered at the Romulan. "What's to stop you or your compatriots there from blasting me

with a disruptor during this 'contest'?"

 

"Oh, my young Starfleet friend, there would be no honor in that," the Romulan said smoothly.

John spat on the ground in front of the Romulan's feet. "What do you know about honor?" he

growled menacingly. The Romulan's face instantly went hard, and he stepped closer to the young

engineer. "Do not make this any harder on yourself than it already is, human," he said angrily. "I,

for one, think that this Klingon will make short work of you. However," and the Romulan stepped

back two paces, "I admire your courage. You are outnumbered, yet you show no fear, unless you

are good at mastering your emotions. I will give you my word of honor that none of us will fire upon

you, or interfere with you in your match. Do you accept?"

 

John stared at the Romulan for a few seconds, then said, "Very well, I accept. What is my

incentive to win this match?" The Romulan gave an oily smile. "We will let you live. After we

interrogate you, of course. But, I will also give you my word of honor on this: if you somehow

best the Klingon, we will administer aid to you, we will interrogate you with no physical interaction

whatsoever, and we will let your friend live also. Is this not fair?" John stared at the Klingon, who

glowered back at him, then turned back to the Romulan. "It is fair, and accepted," he said, knowing

he was in for the fight of his life; maybe for his life.

 

The Romulan smiled widely, and nodded. "Excellent. I admire your courage even more,

Lieutenant. May I have the honor of knowing your name?" The young engineer squared his

shoulders, and looked the Romulan straight in the eyes. "Lieutenant John Randall, Starfleet serial

number 12297-4AQU7." To John's surprise, the Romulan stiffened at hearing his name. "Randall?"

he said. "That's correct," John replied. The Romulan narrowed his eyes. "Hm; thank you, my

Starfleet friend. Now, let the combat begin! No weapons!", and this was directed at the Klingon,

who was reaching for his bat'legh. "Hand to hand! Let us see who is better, Klingon or human!"

The Klingon growled, then took his weapons belt off, and also the sheath that contained his blade.

John took his engineer's belt off, and drew a deep breath. The Argonian quickly moved to his side.

 

Are you sure about this, lieutenant?

 

John looked at him and shrugged. "It's not like I have a choice, Doctor," he whispered. The

Argonian nodded, and Randall warily ventured out into the center of the clearing, where the Klingon

stood, awaiting him. John sized up his opponent; at a guess, the Klingon probably outweighed him

by at least 25 pounds, and was about 3 inches taller. He sported a muscular physique, and was lean at the waist. The Starfleet lieutenant knew he would have to rely on his speed and cunning; in no way could he go toe-to-toe with the big Klingon. Just hope he isn't too fast, thought John, as the

two beings squared off in the center of the clearing. He tried to remember what he had read in the

Academy about any Klingon weak spots, and also what he had read in Captain Kirk's books about

the Klingon race.

 

The Klingon roared, and lunged at John, who danced away, and landed a kick to Krenn's

exposed side. The Klingon grunted, and Randall knew he had at least gotten the big man's

attention. He moved in quickly, and shot two quick right hands to Krenn's jaw, which, if anything,

only infuriated the Klingon more. Krenn counter-lashed out, and John took a fist to the jaw, which

knocked him backward. He rubbed the tender spot, and thought, yep, the power goes to him. Krenn

then moved with surprising speed, and delivered a roundhouse right to Randall's head, knocking

him backwards and down. Even the Romulans cringed a little at the sound of the blow.

 

John lay on his back, trying to re-gather his wits, and saw the Klingon leaping at him. He

managed to roll out of the way, and Krenn landed on his stomach with an 'oof', losing his breath

momentarily. Randall spun his body around, and brought his heel down on the back of the Klingon's

neck, causing a yell of surprise and pain from the big man. The Romulans looked at each other,

nodding at the human's resiliance so far. John rolled away, and got to his feet. The Klingon was

doing the same, and again the two men circled each other. John thought, this time around, there

was a measure of respect in the Klingon's eyes. There was no amusement there now.

 

Krenn made a move, John tried to dance away, but he was more sluggish this time. The Klingon

caught him with a fist to the shoulder, then one to the side of the head again, and Randall crashed

backward in a heap. The Klingon's power was beginning to tell on the young engineer, and John knew it. Krenn did not leap this time; he came in slowly and steadily. Randall rolled backward to avoid him, but the big man kept coming. John waited, and, as the Klingon stepped close to him, suddenly spun and knocked Krenn's feet out from under him. The Klingon yelled in surprise again, and hit the ground hard; then he yelled in pain as John brought his foot up, and kicked Krenn squarely in the nose.

 

The big man rolled away from John, and got to his feet; he put a hand to his nose, and it came

away stained purple, the color of Klingon blood. John was bleeding from the head where the two

crashing blows from the Klingon had scored. The young engineer also was starting to see double, and knew he was in trouble. The Klingon roared as he saw his blood on his hand, and came like a freight train straight for Randall. John was able to dance away this time, and Krenn roared angrily as he came up with nothing but air. He turned, and Randall caught him in the side of the head with a spinning roundhouse kick. Unfortunately, the spin addled John's wits that much more, and he lost his balance after the kick connected, crashing to the ground himself.

 

Krenn shook his head angrily, rolled close to John, and delivered another blow to Randall's head,

the same place where the other blows had landed before. John actually felt something give way in his skull, and knew he was about finished. Both men staggered to their feet, and the Klingon landed yet another blow to John's head. The young engineer knew it was now or never for him; he shook his head vigorously, and got a moment of clarity. John stepped back, then brought his right foot up and connected squarely under the chin of Krenn. The Klingon's eyes rolled up as he crashed to the ground unconscious. Randall also crashed to the ground, but landed on his left side, his already damaged head striking the ground, and also rendering him unconscious.

 

Randall's uniform was torn during the fight, and the ground had opened a long gash in his left

leg. There were bruises on his left side going all the way down to his waist. When John regained

consciousness, he was lying on a bed in a medical sickbay. A doctor was holding an instrument over

him, tracing along his leg. John opened his mouth, and said weakly, "Where am I?" The doctor looked up in surprise, and said gently, "You are aboard the medical freighter Pasteur en route to your ship Challenger." John looked around briefly, which caused spots to swirl before his eyes, then said, "How did I get here?" The doctor said, "We responded to a distress call from an unknown vessel. You were discovered lying in a clearing, bleeding from your head and leg. We beamed you aboard, scanned your ID, discovered who you were, and immediately set course for your ship. Now, I'm going to give you a shot to put you to sleep. You've been very badly hurt, Lieutenant Randall, and you need more care than we can offer you." The doctor loaded a hypo, and shot it into John's arm. The young engineer went unconscious almost immediately, and the doctor thought to himself, This young man is lucky to be alive.

 

He finished working on John's leg, looked over the engineer for a moment, then shook his head,

and went to his next patient. The nurse came, wrapped a bandage around Randall's head, put salve on the gash on his leg, and gently wrapped John's chest and back. She stepped back, and surveyed her patient. This man was put through a wringer, she thought, then hurried to her next patient. A few hours later, the freighter came into hailing distance of Challenger, and the starship learned their engineer was on board.

 

 

END LOG