Maje Kerra loomed over them, his expression smug. The dim light of the Kazon vessel caught the cruel curve of his smile as he studied the two Starfleet officers slumped in their restraints. He didn’t need to keep beating them anymore; their exhaustion and bruised bodies had already done half his work. Now came the subtler weapon, division. After they had reconnected on the deck of his ship’s hangar bay, he would continue to play his game of pulling them apart. He was going to get those codes, and he knew just how to break them from these two pathetic Federation officers.

“You two are a disappointment. Absolute failures to be honest.” Kerra started, his voice measured, almost conversational. Every word was cleverly thought out. “One of you could have been useful, but together? You only hold each other back. But I don’t need either of you anymore.” Kerra sneered, jabbing a finger toward Chambers, “You thought your friend was stronger. That he’d hold out, he did not. He gave me everything without realising it.”

Chambers froze, eyes widening. The words landed like a dagger, but even through the ache in his ribs and the bruises on his face, he could see something in the Maje’s leer that didn’t add up. Still, he played his part, shaking his head slowly as if crushed.

“No,” he rasped as he looked at his friend beside him. The two officers were almost kneeling on the floor of the hangar. “Not Jonarom. He wouldn’t. You’re going to have to kill us. We won’t give up the codes for you.”

Kerra turned, looming over the Ardanan science officer. “That’s amusing, as he said the same of you. He swore you would break first.”

Jonarom glared back, jaw tight. He wanted to spit in the man’s face, but instead, he dropped his eyes and looked at Chambers beside him. In that moment, he tried his best to share with his friend that Kerra was lying again: a simple expression, one of hope, one of resilience, one of trust.

Chambers caught the gaze of his friend and just gave him a subtle wink in response. Actually, winking caused some pain, so Chambers looked back at their captor, waiting to see where this would play out. This Kazon was the classic example of a villain. Always underestimates his foe and gives away too much. Thinking they had the upper hand. Chambers relaxed his shoulders, showing how he reacted to the Kazon’s words. Kerra read a defeat that wasn’t truly there. They needed to use this to bait Kerra into some sort of trap they could use to escape. The Laodamia was mere meters away from them.

Chambers’ acting defeated caused the maje’s grin to widen. “It doesn’t matter. The Bellerophon is gone. My fleet has torn her apart. What remains is mine to scavenge. And you,” he motioned sharply to the guards, “you both are no longer of use. I don’t need your codes or your shuttle. I have what I need from the remains of your broken ship.”

The guards shoved Jonarom and Chambers onto their feet and forward into the Laodamia’s cockpit. The battered Federation craft still smelled of plasma burns and scorched metal, but its systems hummed faintly, awaiting reactivation. There was still some life left in the aeroshuttle, probably the same amount that was left in both Starfleet officers. They just needed to keep going, just a bit more.

“Before you go, understand this,” the Kazon leader continued, circling them like a predator gauging which prey would falter first, “your bond is weakness. You talk about coming from a United Federation of Planets, but when your life is on the line, you don’t actually stand together. You are not united. This ship won’t get you far, so how will you survive? Or at least, who will live the longest? Go, take your little craft. Drift in the void if you like. Your Starfleet is no more. Consider this as you leave. Which of you will betray the other? Which of you wants to live badly enough?”

Jonarom shot a look at Chambers, just a fraction of a second, but it was enough. The spark passed between them.

He’s bluffing. Play along.

Chambers gave him the same subtle wink before his lip curled. “He’ll fold before I do. He always does; he can’t keep up with me. He isn’t as strong as I am.”

Jonarom straightened, despite the pain coursing through his body. “Strong? At least I don’t spend my life flexing in front of reflective surfaces like you do. The only thing people notice about you is how much you flex in the gym.”

This exchange surprised Kerra. He paused, intrigued. The edge in Jonarom’s retort was sharper than he’d expected. He leaned back against one of the bulkheads, folding his arms. His two guards kept their rifles raised, one on each of their prisoners.

Chambers barked a humourless laugh. “Please. You’re one to talk. The only thing noticeable in the gym is you and those ridiculously tight-fitting swim trunks. It’s hard not to stare when your package is practically announcing itself.” He smirked. “Every time we’re at the pool, you strut around in those trunks as if you own the pool. You think you’re so impressive when you climb out of the pool and do that wet hair back flicking motion in slow motion. You want everyone to see you, but it’s just awkward for the rest of us trying to work out next to you. It’s embarrassing, really.”

Jonarom flushed but smirked. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Ryan.”

“Jealousy?” Chambers scoffed as he echoed Jonarom’s insult. He tensed his shoulders, deliberately drawing attention to his arms. He was practically enjoying this, but doing his best to hide the sniggering he wanted to do instead. Getting up closer to Jonarom’s face, he had to make it look like this was real. “You’re the jealous one. Look at this six-pack, these biceps. Bigger than yours will ever be.”

“You think I’m jealous of that?” Jonarom mocked, shaking his head. He was trying his best to work out how he and Chambers could use this fight to their advantage. For now, Jonarom continued to throw fun insults at his friend and would let Chambers lead on this. “Your abs look like Kurath’s forehead ridges; they’re ridiculously tight and pointy. It’s not natural. You spend too much worrying about it in the mirror.”

Chambers could see in his friend’s eyes that, like him, he was enjoying their repertoire and was wondering just how long they could do this before finding a way to use this situation to their advantage. “Jonny, let’s be honest, I spend far less time checking myself out in the mirror compared to how much time you spend doing your hair. The whole cute-fluffy look is so last decade, my friend.” He ruffled Jonarom’s now flat hair with his fingertips.

Jonarom had heard that remark about his hair from Chambers before; however, the last time Chambers had said the complete opposite. He had told Jonarom he had liked his fluffy hairstyle. So now he went in for the kill. “At least I don’t just go with a boring slick back look or that god-awful curtain style you had last month. Perhaps spend more time looking at other parts of your body in the mirror.”

Huffing at that pretend insult, Chambers shook his head, showing he was ‘mortally wounded’ by it. “You said you liked them!”

“I was trying to be nice, unlike what you’re doing now!” Jonarom shot back.

Chambers faked a laugh before pushing Jonarom’s shoulder. He could see just beyond Jonarom’s left shoulder one of the consoles nearby. It was in its locked standby mode. If he could get them closer to it, just maybe they could do something. “Oh, admit it, you’re envious of how good-looking I am. I know you’re impressed.”

Jonarom lightly shoved him back after noticing Chamber’s eyes looking just beyond his shoulder. Chambers had seen something, and obviously, he wanted to get closer to it. “Not in the slightest!” He countered back in his pretend defence. They needed to distract the Kazons so they couldn’t see what they were doing.

The two began pushing at one another’s shoulders, a raw, childish energy bubbling up through their bruises and fatigue. Kerra’s eyes narrowed, a spark of satisfaction flickering in them. He had struck the vein.

But as the playful shoves became more pointed, both officers’ fingers drifted toward the console behind them. With each insult, each shove, each sharp laugh, they managed to get closer enough to it and were able to tap out commands unnoticed.

Chambers grinned, keeping his voice loud enough for Kerra. “You’re weak, Jonny. You cracked under torture like a rookie.”

Jonarom smirked back. “And you probably loved every second, Ry. It’s the most attention you’ve had in months.”

Both men started to grapple with one another against the console. Their hands were placed carefully around one another. While one had the dominant position, the other would carefully conceal their hands to input their codes to release the lockout. They couldn’t rush it, and they had to disable the alert system before. They couldn’t warn the Kazons yet.

Kerra turned to his guards and gave out a low chuckle. “Pathetic. The Federation’s finest bickering like children!”

Jonarom’s eyes flicked to Chambers’s eyes, it was just for an instant before he whispered. “Keep going, Ry. You’re almost entertaining.”

Chambers gave a mock bow. “Glad I could amuse, Your Highness.”

Jonarom quickly pushed his hand behind Chamber’s head as he slammed his fist against the console, and with a few taps, the console beeped softly.

Kerra didn’t notice.

Their insults had unlocked the first layer of security. They were almost there.

“You can’t even endure half of what I did without whimpering like a toddler missing its mother,” Chambers jabbed, shoving Jonarom off of him and against the co-pilot’s console. “I bet you practically begged them to stop.”

Jonarom’s hands moved behind him before Chambers approached him. In a couple of seconds, he shoved Chambers back harder against the pilot’s console. He had now caught on to what his friend was trying to do, the subtle power transfer and the slow activation of a specific system that the Kazon did not possess. He kept the show up. “And you? You probably loved the fact that it’s the only time anyone’s ever touched you willingly. Especially since no one on the Bellerophon gives you the time of day.”

Chambers’ eyes flashed. He couldn’t believe Jonarom had gone that far and wanted to burst out into laughter. He kept his lips firmly closed as he faked another blow to his ego. “Big words from someone who couldn’t even score with Lennah Mai. What’s the line again? ‘Sorry, Jonarom, I’m not into men’—ouch. Bet that stung worse than the plasma whip.”

Jonarom froze for half a second, colour rising in his face. He couldn’t believe that Chambers had just jibed at his failed attempt at asking the Bellerophon’s chief operations officer. “You absolute bastard!”

Chambers smirked, slightly leaning back against the engineering station. He wasn’t close enough to it. “Call it how I see it.” He said, raising his hands into the air and shrugging. He was trying to share that he needed to get closer to the console he was near.

Jonarom saw the cue and stepped forward. The shove Jonarom gave him this time was more brutal, enough to make Chambers stumble against the console. His hands were quickly dancing over it. He wasn’t expecting Jonarom to use so much force, but it was enough to act that he was injured, long enough for him to input more commands. Chambers got up and retaliated, pushing him back with a grunt, the two of them bristling like boys in a schoolyard scuffle, all bruises, bare skin, and raw nerves. The two of them resumed their grappling. They needed to access more consoles; again, working in tandem, they got close to where they needed to be.

“Don’t you dare!” Jonarom started, but Chambers cut him off by jabbing a finger at the console.

“We’ve almost cracked it,” Chambers hissed in a low whisper when he was close to Jonarom’s ear, glancing toward the screen behind Jonarom, before he spun him around.

Jonarom blinked at the screen and realised Chambers’ wild push had triggered a new sequence. The console whirred, lights blinking faster as subroutines unlocked, almost as if the computer itself were feeding off their chaotic energy. For a heartbeat, both of them froze, staring at what they’d just set in motion. Then, slowly, twin smirks tugged at their lips.

“If you spent more time reading a flight diagnostic than staring at your reflection, we wouldn’t have been captured,” Jonarom spat at Chambers.

Chambers swung around, chin up. “I’m surprised you came on this away mission. You practically live in the pool. Cetacean Ops called, they want a new assistant, you should apply!”

“Arrogant fly-boy,” Jonarom bit out, palms flat on Chambers’ chest as he pushed him toward the pilot’s chair.

“Smug splash-rat,” Chambers returned, catching Jonarom’s wrist and turning him, carefully guiding him exactly back into the engineering station. “You want to swim laps or fly a ship?”

“You want me to fly now, yeah? Well, I suppose someone has to think for you while you’re counting abdominal ridges,” Jonarom said, throwing a half-wild swing that grazed Chambers’ shoulder and smacked the edge of a dormant control strip. His opposite hand slid lower, two knuckles tapping a recessed access control. The console strip woke; a thin stack of buttons ghosted into life for a heartbeat, then sank again.

Chambers made a show of stumbling, catching himself on the edge of the engineering arch. His thumb curled under the housing, clicking an invisible latch. A sliver of panelling eased out against his palm. He shoved Jonarom away with his other hand, teeth bared. “You got us caught in the first place. You should have kept a closer look at the sensors.”

Jonarom pushed back. “You parked us where they could outflank us. Stellar piloting.”

“Say that again,” Chambers said, stepping in. They were almost there. Everything was in motion. Just a few more taps and they would be free.

“I said you parked us like a rookie.” Jonarom palmed the ops surround as if to steady himself; his fingertips danced. The final lockout prompt pulsed, then vanished beneath a diagnostic overlay he shouldn’t have been able to reach from standby.

Kerra was pleased at how they were now at each other’s throats. His smile grew bigger, knowing eventually one of them would kill the other, and then they would open up the ship to him. He knew by taking away so much from them, they would be broken and ready to give up just to live.

Chambers’ forearm barred Jonarom’s chest; Jonarom’s weight turned, pinning them both against the lip of the transporter panel. Chambers’ wrist slid under Jonarom’s, and in that cover, his fingers keyed a set of coordinates. He could barely see the targeting sensor readings, but instantly, he knew they were locked onto their three guests. Not letting their show finish too early, he gave out several more grunts as he rolled himself under his friend’s body weight.

Jonarom looked at him and saw what Chambers had done on the console before he used his knuckles to double-tap confirmation. “You’re impossible.” He spat out, keeping their charade up.

“Works both ways,” Chambers said, the words riding a thin smile Jonarom alone could see.
Kerra gave out a long, deep sigh and flicked a bored glance at his guards. “Enough. Separate them and—”

The guards began to advance towards them. This was it. Their show was coming to an end, and they needed to make their move now.

Jonarom and Chambers broke apart as if spent. They weren’t. In the blink of an eye, both slammed their palms down, left and right, on the Laodamia’s transporter controls. It came to life instantly. Its high-pitched hum filled the cabin with a buzz, and it was the sweetest sound to the two Starfleet officers.

A clean arc of light blossomed around Maje Kerra and his two guards. Their surprise froze on their faces as the field enveloped them and effortlessly carried them off the aeroshuttle. They were gone, leaving only empty air where Kerra’s arrogance had been.

The cockpit was suddenly still, just the two of them left in the dim light and the faint ozone tang of the transporter systems. All that could be heard was Chambers and Jonarom trying to catch their breath.

“Did we do it?” Chambers asked, sounding almost surprised as his eyes bulged at how their little routine of fighting with one another was enough to bring the transporters online and beam the Kazons away from them.

Jonarom looked over at the transporter controls. “We did it, Ry! Kerra and his goons are in the same cell they put us in.”

“Poetic justice,” Chambers smirked with pride. “We won’t have long until he and his crew realise what we’ve done. We need to move quickly before they catch up to us. You all good?”

“You shoved me harder than I expected,” Jonarom said, grinning through the ache in his ribs. “I almost thought you meant it.”

Chambers chuckled, leaning across and clapping him on the shoulder. “That’s the point, isn’t it? We had to make it look real. And you played your part like a champ. I’ve never been cursed at so… creatively.”

Jonarom smirked, then surprised both of them by pulling Chambers into a quick, fierce hug. “We’re still alive,” he whispered, his voice tight with relief. The contact lasted longer than either anticipated, bare skin against bare skin, both of them painfully aware of how exposed they were in nothing but the coarse rags Kerra had forced them into. When they finally drew apart, the reality of their situation pressed back in, sharp and immediate.

“Right, enough public display of affection while topless. Let’s get out of here,” Chambers dragged himself into the pilot’s chair, groaning as his ribs protested with every movement. He dropped into the seat with a graceless thud, head rolling back for a moment before he squinted at the half-dead console. He pressed a few buttons and brought the engines online.

Systems were starting to power up. The Laodamia was coming back to life. She could breathe again.

Jonarom fell into the co-pilot’s seat, chest heaving as the adrenaline ebbed. He wiped at the sweat trickling down his brow and looked across at Chambers, who was now flexing his bruised knuckles after their staged scuffle while waiting for the navigational deflector to power up.

Jonarom activated his console. Panels brightened under his touch, status bars creeping up. Jonarom coaxed dormant subsystems to life, lines of text chasing one another toward ready green. The seats vibrated faintly through their hips as power flowed; airflow stirred against clammy skin.

Jonarom cut Chambers a sideways look. “For the record, when we write up about our escape in our reports, maybe skip the part where you give a monologue about my package.”

Chambers’ eyebrows climbed. “Please. You started it when you said my abs look tighter than Kurath’s forehead ridges. That’s a hate crime against fitness.”

“Observation,” Jonarom corrected, fighting a smile as he routed power to shields. “Perhaps, I should have said they’re sculpted like smooth river stones?”

Chambers shot back with a grin and a chuckle. “No, that sounds worse! Anyway, you were the one raving about my abs. Don’t try to pin that on me.”

Jonarom pretended to wince, like he’d been caught. “Alright, guilty. But I stand by it. You’ve clearly spent too much time in the gym.”

Smirking, Chambers knew how to tease his friend further. “And you clearly spent too much time looking.”

Jonarom opened his mouth, shut it, then laughed despite himself. “Fair point. Now shut up and divert auxiliary power before we both end up as star dust.” He tapped in a shield modulation, swallowing a groan as the cut lines across his back pulled. “Also, you are never living down your statement that ‘Cetacean Ops called.’”

Shooting him a look that was half pain, half delight, Chambers knew his friend had enjoyed their exchange of friendly insults at one another too much. “You walked right into that one, Jonny. I’m proud of you, though, for keeping a straight face.”

“Likewise,” Jonarom said, fingers quick and sure despite the tremor in them. “Your wounded impression was flawless.”

“It was award-winning,” Chambers muttered, rolling his shoulders. They were feeling tight, and the pain was difficult to ignore. “Flight control is waking up. Give me inertials and the impulse thrusters to manoeuvre.”

“Inertials calibrating,” Jonarom said, coaxing the suite into green. “Impulse thrusters are coming online. Shields are almost at seventy-two per cent.”

“Noted,” Chambers replied, a crooked grin sneaking in as the last column on his board turned compliant. The ops panel lit up, showing that the warp core was powering up with a low pulse. “Warp drive is almost on. Now, if we can actually fly this thing without crashing, we might live another hour.” Chambers smirked, straightening slightly as his instincts as a pilot took over. His hands rested on the flight controls with almost reverent ease. “Watch and learn, swim-boy.”

The craft rattled as the engines came alive, a deep vibration coursing through the battered hull.

Chambers guided her up off the hangar deck, every muscle in his torso screaming, but his grin widening all the same. “See? Still got it.”

A sharp ping on Jonarom’s console pulled his focus. “We’ve got incoming guests. Kazon guards are attempting to force the bay doors open. And they’re not bringing welcome baskets.”

“Great,” Chambers muttered. His knuckles whitened on the yoke. “I’m probably bleeding in seven places, and trying to outfly an angry mob. Perfect.”

Jonarom chuckled, coaxing the weapons systems online. “You always did say you worked better under pressure. Guess we’ll find out.”

The Laodamia lurched as incoming fire peppered the shields. The Kazon guards had burst through and were firing their rifles at them.

Jonarom’s fingers danced, bringing the weapons array entirely online with a flick of his wrist. “Hurry up, Ry. Before they decide to redecorate this hull with our remains.”

Chambers gritted his teeth, eyes flicking over flickering controls. “You try flying a damaged ship with cracked ribs, bruised everything, and…” He paused as he glanced down at his coarse garment, then at Jonarom, smirking through the pain. “basically naked. Not exactly optimal conditions.”

Jonarom actually laughed, even as he armed the phasers. “Fair. But for the record. You’re not pulling off this look half as well as you think.”

The shields flared as another shot struck them. Chambers shoved the throttle forward, the Laodamia roaring into motion, clawing free of the hangar after Jonarom fired the phasers, blowing out the large bay doors.

Chambers’ grin returned, strained but genuine. “Nice shooting, my friend, but hold onto your trunks, Jonny. We’re getting out of here.”

Jonarom braced himself, eyes flicking between readouts. His console chimed, and he looked up, breath catching. “Ry!” His voice sharpened, this time without humour. “The sensors are reading something dropping out of warp. It’s got a Federation signal!”

“Perhaps one of the ships from the squadron?” Chambers tried to guess. “Please tell me it’s the Odyssey or the Themis!”

Jonarom shook his head in delight as he confirmed the readings. “No! It’s the Bellerophon. She’s here, alive and coming in with shields raised and weapons hot!”

Chambers’ head snapped toward him, disbelief etched on his battered face. Then, slowly, a laugh bubbled up despite the pain. “Guess the reports of her death were greatly exaggerated.”

The Bellerophon flew over them and started to engage the Kazon ship. First, a barrage of torpedoes followed by several lances of phaser fire. Each hit crackled against Kerra’s ship. It could barely sustain the damage from Bellerophon’s photon torpedoes.

“Bellerophon to Laodamia,” came the voice of Captain Reyas over the subspace radio. The link wasn’t stable, thanks to the Laodamia’s damaged systems. “Ryan, Jonarom, are you both alive?”

Jonarom responded while Chambers concentrated on flying the ship. “We’re here, ma’am. Just.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, lieutenant,” Reyas said with a sense of relief. “Get yourselves out of weapon range, and we’ll pick you up once we’ve dealt with this Kazon ship.”

“Understood, captain!” Jonarom answered, smirking at their rescuer’s arrival as the channel was closed.

“I told you we would make it, Jonny,” Chambers said smugly.

“You were right, Ry,” Jonarom agreed, his smile getting bigger as he saw the Bellerophon hitting the Kazon ship harder and harder.

“I’m always right!”