Re: Part Two: Trial By Fire
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USS Meharry
(Main Corridor leading to the Bridge…)
Syot Graf D’Grekker quivered with anticipation. He could literally taste the fear emanating on the wounded starship’s bridge. “Hurry,” he barked at the warrior holding the blowtorch. The torch’s plasma flame blossomed even more fiercely as it sliced into the main bridge’s doors.
Though the Sutahr had ordered him to destroy any Federation ship that responded to the missing convoy, to ensure the Exarch safe passage to their hidden base, D’Grekker had a moment of inspiration.
After scuttling the convoy ship and escape pod used as bait, the Yokkai had carved into the Federation ship, leaving it listing and dead in space within a matter of minutes with a dissatisfying ease. Seeing the defenseless, globular-hulled ship before them, laden with weapons, medical supplies and other bounty that might be of use to them, Graf had ordered that the ship be boarded.
No one had reminded him of the Syot’s orders, all of the warriors were eager to dig their claws and sink their teeth into the enemy that had recently spat upon all Alshain. He was certain that when he returned with the plunder that the Sutahr, and more importantly the Exarch, would reward his initiative.
He had sent teams to Engineering and Sickbay. He had led the team on the strike against the bridge. Though he could’ve beamed onto the bridge, D’Grekker forced himself to exercise some restraint. In his eagerness he might’ve transported into the middle of barrage of phaser bolts. This way, he could use the corridor and the doors leading to the bridge for cover of some kind.
As soon as the doors parted slightly, D’Grekker pushed the man out of the way. He ordered two of his soldiers to grab the jagged, molten ends of the doors and wrest them apart. The two did so without complaint. Graf ignored the smell of their roasting flesh, or of the streaks of blood running down the doors caused by the jutting, hot metal.
Once the doors were sufficiently opened, D’Grekker ordered his warriors to fire into the opening. After almost a minute of fire, he stopped them. There had been no response. That was odd, but the quiet did nothing to dispel D’Grekker’s ardor.
“Starfleet warriors, if you surrender now I promise no harm will come to you!” He repeated the offer several seconds later. No one replied to either offer. “Starfleet warriors,” D’Grekker said again, letting his ire fill his words, “Surrender immediately or I will lay waste to the brig and then your entire ship.”
“That’ll be the day,” one of the Starfleeters said. It was followed by a harsh rebuke from a feminine voice.
“Sorry captain,” the other replied sheepishly, before the bridge quieted again. D’Grekker grinned while he stroked the tuft of fur hanging from his chin. So, the captain was still alive. Presenting a live Starfleet captain could move his Sept into the high nobility. Exarch Jedalla might even make him a Peer.
“Commander of this vessel, for the sake of your crew, I order you to surrender now!” He motioned for his warriors to take position around the opening.
“Come and get us you bastards!” It was the first voice again.
“Ensign you’re on report!” Now the captain spoke again, frustration evident in her voice. D’Grekker wasn’t sure how many of the bridge crew had survived their assault, or what truly awaited him, but he was confident he was prepared for it.
“Storm the opening,” he rasped softly to his warriors. “Good hunting.” Despite their lanky, muscled bodies, the Alshain moved swiftly through the opening, each firing into the void as they tumbled into a defensive shield protecting D’Grekker who went in last.
He wasn’t prepared after all for what awaited him. Nothing. No one was on the bridge. “Where are they?” He snapped to his second, Kveld Jast. Jast pulled out a sensor device. He swept it around the smoky, ruined bridge.
“There,” he said after a few seconds, pointing up at a vent in one of the bulkheads. “Seven lifeforms are up there.” D’Grekker laughed. He at least had to give the captain credit for not merely waiting to be captured. The momentary delay, however, would enliven her torturing sessions. He felt it was only right to repay the extra effort he would have to expend pulling her out of the bulkhead, with an extra effort of his own.
He walked jauntily to the wall were the vent was located. Looking up, he ran one of his claws against the wall, the screeching sound even annoying him. “A valiant effort Captain, but it’s time for this game to end. I give you one more chance to surrender.”
A loud sigh issued from the overhead vent. It was the sound of defeat. “Okay,” the woman said, her voice wearied, “If I surrender, do you promise that my crew will not be hurt?”
“You have my word as a warrior,” D’Grekker puffed out his chest with false pride.
“What will become of them, or my ship?”
“Once we have appropriated some of your supplies, you and your crew can go about your way.”
“Who are you?” the woman asked. Jast nodded vociferously against revealing their identity. D’Grekker shrugged. What did it matter? The captain and would be a gift to the Exarch, the supplies a gift for the Sutahr, and the rest of the ship’s crew could provide entertainment for the warriors.
“I am Syot D’Grekker, of the Alshain Starforce.” Graf was pleased at the captain’s sharp inhalation.
“Alshain?” she asked, incredulous. “What are the Alshain doing here? And why would you attack a Federation vessel?”
“Knowing it could lead to war?” It was the second voice again. “Especially after we dusted you guys the last time.”
“Ensign!” the captain hissed. “That’s enough from you!” Several of his strike team roared with anger at the insult. D’Grekker’s stomach roiled with the bile of the comment too.
“Who is that?” He bellowed, pounding against the wall. “He will be the death of you all!”
“My apologies…Syot D’Grekker,” the captain said smoothly. “I am Captain M’Bira of the Federation Starship Meharry. Despite the impertinence of my subordinates comment, if you are truly a member of the Alshain Starforce, you must agree that this action you’ve undertaken is an act of war against the United Federation of Planets.”
“I’m through with talking,” D’Grekker roared. “Come down now, or we will climb up there and rip you from that crawlspace.”
“As you wish,” the captain’s voice was tinny. D’Grekker smiled again, feeling his control of the situation return. The vent’s panel opened, and he saw a furry hand, not too dissimilar from his own, though far more dainty. She held some type of sash in her hand. She released it and it clanged on the floor. He quickly bent down to pick it up. It was heavier than it should’ve been, and lumpy. Turning it over, he saw twelve silvery blue grenades, their tops flashing red. He hurled the grenades away from him, and bounded to the opening.
“They’re grenades!” He yelled behind him to his bewildered warriors. “They’re gren…” The concussive wave stole his voice as it slammed him against a wall.
*****
