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This mission, Kix thinks with resignation, isn't going his way at all.
Carefully, gingerly, he shifts on the bare floor of the cell, trying not to pull too hard at the cuffs wrapping all the way up to his elbows. Klingons are thorough, apparently. At least when they’re locking someone up. Kix wishes they’d been a little less so; he’s starting to lose all feeling in his hands, and his hands are valuable.
Not that the Klingons will listen if he complains, likely. Kix is a prisoner of war, and is probably headed for either execution or use as a bargaining chip in a prisoner exchange.
Outside the brig, there's a rumble of voices, the guttural sound of Klingon spoken quickly. A moment later, heavy steps retreat, and there's a pause.
Then, quiet, the door slides open.
Heartbeat rabbiting, Kix freezes, resisting the urge to shove himself back into the corner to hide as a Klingon warrior enters. He’s slenderer than some Kix has seen so far, but heavily armed, and his dark eyes slide right to Kix as he keys the door closed again behind him. For a long moment, there's complete silence as he stares, and Kix stares back, edging towards terrified but trying to hide it.
“You're scared of me,” the Klingon finally says, his Federation Standard accented but clear. He takes two steps closer to the bars of Kix's cell, looming there, and Kix swallows hard.
“I'm a prisoner,” he says evenly. “Of course I'm scared.”
The Klingon considers this for a long moment, gaze still unwavering. “Fear is best faced and conquered,” he says.
“I have no control over my own life right now,” Kix retorts. “I can't conquer anything when you could decide to kill me at any moment.”
The Klingon snorts quietly. “You Humans view fear very differently,” he says, and touches the keypad outside the cell. The door clicks open, and Kix scrambles to his feet as best he can, facing the Klingon as he enters. There's no way Kix is going to be able to defeat a Klingon warrior with his hands cuffed behind him, but he’s not about to take any abuse lying down, either.
“What do you want with me?” Kix challenges, lifting his chin.
“My name is Agen Kolar,” the Klingon says, and circles Kix with quiet steps. “You are a Starfleet medical officer, yes?”
Kix breathes in, breathes out. “Chief Medical Officer of the starship Resolute,” he says grimly. “Kix.”
Agen comes to a halt in front of him, tilting his head as he looks Kix over again. “That is a high rank.”
“I earned it,” Kix shoots back. “I'm a good doctor, and my crew needs me—”
“Then we had best return you to them,” Agen says simply, and steps forward, right into Kix.
Kix's brain shorts out, and he stares blankly at the curtain of long black hair that’s filling his vision as Agen leans around him, and—
With a click, his cuffs give way, tumbling off his arms to clang against the floor, and Agen carefully pulls them forward, rubbing his fingers up and down the sore muscle. Kix hisses at the rush of pins and needles, wanting to twitch back but knowing he needs to encourage blood flow, and grits his teeth at the ache.
“I apologize,” Agen says quietly. “I had to wait until the change of the guard to come for you.”
“Why?” Kix asks, bewildered. “Aren’t you—are you releasing me? why?”
“Rescuing you,” Agen confirms, and there's just a hint of a smirk at the edge of his mouth. “There is a shuttle waiting for us, and your ship will be within hailing range in a few hours.”
A shuttle waiting for us, Kix thinks, and swallows. “You're coming with me?” he asks, and something knots in his stomach. “But—if you get taken by the Federation you’ll just be in the same position—”
There's a moment of silence, and then Agen touches Kix's cheek. It’s just a light brush of knuckles, but it washes heat right down to Kix's bones.
“That’s fine,” Agen says evenly. “I refuse to fight this war when my people take medical officers prisoner, and slate them for execution. The Federation is not blameless, but it is more lenient. I will take my chances.”
Kix can't help it. He grabs Agen's hands, opens his mouth—
Agen kisses him, once, soft, and then straightens. “A last request,” he says, and then grips Kix's arm gently and pulls him out of the cell. Kix doesn’t have time to even come up with a response before he’s being marched through the halls of the Klingon ship, but—
Fleet Admiral Windu owes Kix a favor. Admiral Kenobi does too. If Kix goes to them, if he begs for them to help Agen, if he puts all of his influence behind it, maybe.
Maybe he can save Agen, too.