Star Treck

Kiamsc woke up in what seemed to be a cage... 'Ughh! More cages!' she thought, and looked around groggily. Her head hurt BAD. 'I can't concentrate my stupid powers... Even if I wanted to! At least not for awhile...' Kiamsc saw something move in the dark. It looked like a person. They walked over. "I know what you're thinking... I can hear your thoughts, can YOU hear me?" the Betazoid said in her mind. "Geez! Talking to an animal! You must really be desperate." Kiamsc mused, and the Betazoid frowned. "Shut up! I heard the guards say you were to dangerous to be left in a room uncaged, so I assumed you must be special. My name is Fredarique, what's yours?"
"Not telling..."
"No problem, I'll just find it... Kiamsc. Odd name, but better than mine!"

She rolled her eyes. "Spock, must you always be a downer?" She asked, dodging one as well and then letting go of his foot to slide down an incline in the vent.

Spock smiled then fallowed her.

(Fredarique Malik is going to be a new character of mine. He has only one arm... I will post his bio later so my mom doesn't kill me!
)

(Epic character. Can't wait to see him in the actual rp)

T'Pol didn't need to see the smile, she just knew it was there. "It's not illogical, there's phasers in either possible plans. And this one's chances of success are higher." She pointed out to him.

Name: Fredarique Malik (He prefers to be called Malik, but when he introduces himself he just says "Fredarique" that name is said "Fred-ah-reek")
Age: Eh... I dunno, let's just guess! late 20's to early 30's... I don't know!
Gender: Male
Race: Betazoid
Personality: He MIGHT have multiple personalities disorder... (MPD) Just MAYBE. Ok, he does. He is sometimes kind and courteous, sometimes very easily angered and hard to reason with, sometimes calm and stubborn, sometimes just random... But he usually manages to stay somewhere between 1 and 3. (1:kind and courteous; 3:calm and stubborn) He is kind of hard to annoy... He has only one arm, but charges into battle when he can using swords and knives. Only fights when he wants or has to.
Series?: made up
Looks:

Rank: Visitor? Passenger? Mind reader?
Job: Reading peoples minds for supplies... (He travels a lot and doesn't like to rely on others) For now he is... Well WAS the substitute therapist of the ship because the other one was on vacation and got sick... No one knows how long he'll be staying.

(Can tell hes gonn be awesome.)

Spock shook his head. "True," he rested as soon as he hit the bottom. He wanted to cut his skin off, all he blisters popping bugged him. Good thing it was only his hands and lower legs.

"You shouldn't be so nosy Fredarique!" Kiamsc shouted in her head.
"DON'T CALL ME FREDARIQUE! I hate that name."
"But you told me it was your name..."
"I know. It is. Call me Malik. Now we need to think of a way outta here!"

T'Pol crawled down a narrow shaft that was slowly getting large. "We're coming up to something!" She called back, and found herself in a little compartment that they both could stand in.

Spock fallowed and stood up. He took a deep breath and listened. The aren split into two directions. He listened for any Klingon speach.

Falti pulled her haed away from the rank breath of the leading Klingon. "You will be my pet, Romulan," he played with her ears. She snapped her head over and bit his hand. She hit the floor as he shoved her back. "You're a fiesty one," he smell his hand, "Half blood."

T'Pol stopped for a breath, the voices of Klingon's were echoing through the air ducts, but nothing sounded to strong to be from nearby. She panted hard, body aching and leaned against the wall.

Phlox stared in confusion at the Klingons. "What do you want with us?" He asked, seeing his Captain preoccupied.

Spock moved toward the stringest sound of the Klingons. He stopped when he could see the captain.

Falti hissed at the Klingon's remark.

"You have advanced technology," he spit out, "We want it."

Phlox gawked. "Advanced?" He thought that any race in the federation had just about the same technology. "There's nothing special about Enterprise's compared to any other Federation ship!"

T'Pol tilted her head up to hear better. "Spock?" She asked him, voice hushed, wondering if he knew anything about what the Klingon meant.

"Tuvok did some modifacations. We have more heavy duty weapons," he replied.

A loud smack could be heard. "You filthy half breed!" a roar came, "You have no honor!"
"I have my honor," Falti hissed, "Just none for Klingons!"

T'Pol cringed at the smack, tasting blood in her mouth even though she hadn't been touched whatsoever. "Got a plan Spock?" She asked him, still quiet, and turned her ears away as she heard something smack the doctor. A loud thud as he fell to the floor heavily. "Did you kill him?" One Klingon asked another. "No, just stopped the rambling."

Falti hissed and punched the Klingon that hit Phlox. "You have no respect!" she hissed.

Spock didn't respond for a while. "No," he admitted.

His sick laughter filled the little vent room, and T'Pol wanted to tear through the walls and make them all pay. She looked at Spock and thought quickly. "Sir. We've secured the weapons." A Klingon said and T'Pol quickly knew what to do. "We need weapons, and while they've got the depot secured, we can still take on a few Klingons can't we?" She asked him. "With our close quarter combat training, it'll be easy."

"Lets hope," he grunted softly and began to take the panel down. He stopped when he heard another thud and looked. Falti was down and out. "Get them all to a shuttle pod," one ordered. Spock ripped the panel off and jumped out. He landed on the leading one and knocked him to the floor.

T'Pol jumped down after him, sliding and crawling through vents was not what she signed up for when she was assigned this ship. But what can you do? She just heard a Klingon say. "We haven't captured the two ranking officers, Spock and T'Pol yet." A smile crossed her face as she heard the Klingon in charge there say. "Then they must be dead." Ignorant fools.

Spock checked to make sure the Klingon was knocked out. He slinked after T'Pol and heard the Klingon say his name. Heavy foot steps indicated that they left to search for them.

"Sir, there are twenty-eight living organisms on the shuttle," he took a breath, "All we need are the two commanders and we can send them off."

T'Pol gave the armory a quick scan, it was less defended then she thought. She quickly ran over and grabbed two phaser pistols, and then tossed him one. She then realized she was still only dressed in medical bay clothing, which was a strapless Tee and shorts. "I'm never going to get good clothing back on..." The Vulcan muttered and found a pair of shoes. She slipped them on and was grateful for the relief they provided her burned feet.

Spock caught the pistol and holstered it. He opened a compartment and tossed her the clothes. "It was logical to keep extra in here," he backed up and walked out of the room to give her privacy.

T'Pol, knowing time was short, quickly got dressed in the somewhat large clothing. Seems they belong to a man. She thought, tucking the shirt into the pants so it didn't hang to much and rolling up the sleeves to her elbow. The fit around the neck wasn't ideal, but she wasn't going to ask for a new outfit. She looked around, the armory had been mostly cleared of its stronger weapons. But there was a crate full of stun grenades just ripe for the taking.

"I smell a Vulcan and a Human," one voiced, "This way."

Spock entered the room. "Hurry. There is a group of many coming."

She looked around quickly, every second wasted was a second they could be captured or killed in. "In the crates!" She hissed in quick thought and opened the large crates and dove right into one.