DARKER TERRITORY:
HEARTS OF GLASS
ISS Kill Devil
He used strength he didn’t know he had to pull himself up. As his legs turned rubbery, he leaned against the sweating glass, his breath causing puffs of mist.
“Impressive,” Jasmine said. Her toned bare arms were folded, her head tilted, her expression curious, a cruel smirk on her full lips. Glover glared at her. For once he wasn’t taken by her beauty, and after it all, she was still beautiful. She was wearing a tight, slick halter-top, exposing intoxicating abdominal muscles and her ample, enhanced bosom, which topped off a dress with double slits to trap him any time she walked or flashed a shapely leg.
He hated that he fell for the trap. It was obvious now, in hindsight. “Enjoying this?” He demanded.
“The captain had never allowed me to see the agony chamber before,” she revealed. “But I heard stories, and screams, but now, being here, seeing what it does, even to you, it is quite the piece of machinery,” she said coldly.
“You set me up,” He declared.
“Don’t make excuses for your failure,” Jasmine retorted. “I gave you an opening to remove our mutual problem, but you failed.”
“That’s not true,” Glover said. “Awokou knew about us didn’t he? He probably sent you to seduce me.”
The woman’s laugh was harsh. “Seduce you? I think it was mutual. It is mutual,” she declared as she leaned close to the glass. Glover wished he could reach through the thick, transparent barrier and wrap his hands around the woman’s luscious throat. “You were my ticket out of this,” she stepped back from the booth and gestured at her clinging, slivery black outfit, “And it was your shot at command.”
She got close to the booth again. “Instead of dispatching him quickly when you had the chance you choose to gloat instead, giving Weiss enough time to thwart our plans.”
“Our plans?” Now Glover laughed before the pain caught back up with him. He bent over, the laughter turning to hacking.
“Are you alright?” Jasmine asked, bending down to get eye level with him. Glover rolled his eyes.
Through pain-induced clenched teeth, he spat, “I’m in an agony booth, what do you think?!”
The woman backed away, as if she had been slapped. “I wanted you to be in the captain’s chair, but there’s nothing I can do for you now. And there’s nothing you can do for me,” she said, her momentary concern replaced by a calculating condescension. “I’ll do it myself.”
“Ha,” Glover said, pain seizing him again. “Your world was razed, you have no power base, no support among the Admiralty, the Imperial administration…”
“And yours is doing wonders for you?” Jasmine laughed.
Glover glared. “My family will avenge me!”
“Cold comfort,” Jasmine shrugged. “But I will do what I can to inform them of your demise.”
“You would do that?” Glover was genuinely surprised. “Why?”
The woman gingerly placed a hand against the glass, where Terrence’s left cheek was. “I hated being Awokou’s woman, but I did want to be yours. But there’s nothing that can be done about that now. I heard Awokou arguing in his office…about you. I couldn’t hear everything, but I know he’s coming for you…soon.”
Glover pulled himself back up. He steadied himself, without and within. “Whatever comes…I’ll be ready for it.”
“I hope so,” Jasmine said softly before reaching for his face again. She then left him alone, in the darkness.
**********************************************************************
ISS Kill Devil
Hours later…
Captain Banti Awokou was not pleased. Terrence was pleased about that. Awokou sat behind his desk, like a restless king on a throne.
Glover wondered how long he had been stuck in the both, because Awokou, and most of the crew were now sporting new uniforms, with division colors now on the shoulders over a black tunic, a color reversal of the previous uniforms, and the last one he had worn. He supposed it was a good thing that the division colored sashes remained.
It never ceased to gall him how Command could scrounge up the money for spiffy uniforms while allowing most of their fleet had to fall apart. At least they would look resplendent in the dustbin of history.
“Sit him down,” the captain ordered, barely looking up from the report he was crushing both hands. Seeing the paper document wasn’t surprising; Awokou loved archaic things. His weapon-laden office, with various armors and weapons from the Terran Empire’s past, plus others he had looted from alien worlds, filled the walls. Glover had always felt like he was walking into a museum whenever he was beckoned to the captain’s state room.
It was a place just as old and moldy as its captain. Glover had long dreamed of removing all of the relics once he had seized command. Kill Devil was an aged ship, but still, an injection of fresh, new blood could give the ship and crew new life. It’s just the old fossils, like Awokou, Picard, DeSoto, Keogh, and the rest, were still clinging to power.
Even now, at his end, he still fantasized of how he would cleanse this room of all the rusting things rooting Kill Devil and its crew to the past, a time of defeat and constraint. Though there was one item he would’ve kept.
“Commander Glover!” Awokou barked, drawing Terrence’s attention away from the long, wicked bat’leth that dominated the left wall. It was Awokou’s most prized possession. He had gained it, along with a vicious scar running the length of his face, bisecting it like a Bolian, in one of the few victories the Empire had scored against the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance that had devoured a great swath of the quadrant and kept the Empire at bay.
The victory had gained Awokou a lot of support in the Imperial Court, enough so that the man thought he was protected enough to do with Terrence as he chose. But Terrence had his own prominent supporters.
The hard bump against the chair brought Glover back to the present. He looked up at the smirking Commander Weiss, ship’s head of security and Awokou’s chief attack dog. Terrence regretted that he would never get a chance to fillet the man.
Awokou’s glower had been replaced by his usual hard look. “Enjoy your time in the booth? Did you have time to reflect on your mistakes?”
“My only mistake was that I didn’t gut you when I had the chance,” Glover riposted right before pain shot through his head and his ears rang. Terrence bent over, tears brimming.
“Enough Evan!” Awokou held up a hand.
When Glover sat back up, he took a moment to compose himself as best as possible. He hated having to wipe his tears away, but he did it. Looking directly at the captain, he said, “Weiss, whatever happens in the next few moments, I will find a way to make you regret every putting your sullied hands on me.”
“Good luck with that,” Weiss scoffed.
Awokou stroked his neat, graying goatee, carefully watching the exchange between the two men, assessing, judging, like always. “I gave you an opportunity, and I didn’t have to.”
“You only thought you were currying favor with my family,” Terrence shot back, his fear of the man’s wrath loosened by his time in the booth. There wasn’t much worse that the captain could do to him, that he could foresee. Being exposed to the fabled Tantalus field at this point would be a boon.
“That I was,” Awokou admitted. “And you proved even more of a failure here as you did on the Repulse.”
For the first time, in what seemed like an eternity, Glover’s wincing was not caused by pain. Memories stormed over him, buffeting him. “At least there, your rashness only resulted in the death of a dozen or so of your crewmen, but here, to make a play for me, to strike at the king? And you know what they say about if when you strike at a king….”
Terrence didn’t have to answer. He knew the Emerson admonition well. Jasmine had reminded him before he made his move. “And to think,” Awokou went on. “After Ferguson’s death in that transporter accident I promoted you, of all people…” the man paused, his eyes narrowing. He leaned over his desk. His voice lowered, and Glover tensed, because he sensed how much danger he was in. “The transporter ‘accident’…was no accident.”
Terrence kept his secrets to himself. He shrugged instead.
Awokou threw the papers at Glover. He caught most of them. He let the rest hit the floor. He didn’t want to bend over and expose how much pain he was still in, from his session in the booth.
“What’s this?” Glover said after glancing at the sheets of paper.
“You tell me?” Awokou said. “She was your wife after all.”
“Damn it,” Terrence glanced back down at the personnel file. “Liz, just what have you gotten yourself into now,” he whispered.
*********************************************************************
HEARTS OF GLASS
ISS Kill Devil
He used strength he didn’t know he had to pull himself up. As his legs turned rubbery, he leaned against the sweating glass, his breath causing puffs of mist.
“Impressive,” Jasmine said. Her toned bare arms were folded, her head tilted, her expression curious, a cruel smirk on her full lips. Glover glared at her. For once he wasn’t taken by her beauty, and after it all, she was still beautiful. She was wearing a tight, slick halter-top, exposing intoxicating abdominal muscles and her ample, enhanced bosom, which topped off a dress with double slits to trap him any time she walked or flashed a shapely leg.
He hated that he fell for the trap. It was obvious now, in hindsight. “Enjoying this?” He demanded.
“The captain had never allowed me to see the agony chamber before,” she revealed. “But I heard stories, and screams, but now, being here, seeing what it does, even to you, it is quite the piece of machinery,” she said coldly.
“You set me up,” He declared.
“Don’t make excuses for your failure,” Jasmine retorted. “I gave you an opening to remove our mutual problem, but you failed.”
“That’s not true,” Glover said. “Awokou knew about us didn’t he? He probably sent you to seduce me.”
The woman’s laugh was harsh. “Seduce you? I think it was mutual. It is mutual,” she declared as she leaned close to the glass. Glover wished he could reach through the thick, transparent barrier and wrap his hands around the woman’s luscious throat. “You were my ticket out of this,” she stepped back from the booth and gestured at her clinging, slivery black outfit, “And it was your shot at command.”
She got close to the booth again. “Instead of dispatching him quickly when you had the chance you choose to gloat instead, giving Weiss enough time to thwart our plans.”
“Our plans?” Now Glover laughed before the pain caught back up with him. He bent over, the laughter turning to hacking.
“Are you alright?” Jasmine asked, bending down to get eye level with him. Glover rolled his eyes.
Through pain-induced clenched teeth, he spat, “I’m in an agony booth, what do you think?!”
The woman backed away, as if she had been slapped. “I wanted you to be in the captain’s chair, but there’s nothing I can do for you now. And there’s nothing you can do for me,” she said, her momentary concern replaced by a calculating condescension. “I’ll do it myself.”
“Ha,” Glover said, pain seizing him again. “Your world was razed, you have no power base, no support among the Admiralty, the Imperial administration…”
“And yours is doing wonders for you?” Jasmine laughed.
Glover glared. “My family will avenge me!”
“Cold comfort,” Jasmine shrugged. “But I will do what I can to inform them of your demise.”
“You would do that?” Glover was genuinely surprised. “Why?”
The woman gingerly placed a hand against the glass, where Terrence’s left cheek was. “I hated being Awokou’s woman, but I did want to be yours. But there’s nothing that can be done about that now. I heard Awokou arguing in his office…about you. I couldn’t hear everything, but I know he’s coming for you…soon.”
Glover pulled himself back up. He steadied himself, without and within. “Whatever comes…I’ll be ready for it.”
“I hope so,” Jasmine said softly before reaching for his face again. She then left him alone, in the darkness.
**********************************************************************
ISS Kill Devil
Hours later…
Captain Banti Awokou was not pleased. Terrence was pleased about that. Awokou sat behind his desk, like a restless king on a throne.
Glover wondered how long he had been stuck in the both, because Awokou, and most of the crew were now sporting new uniforms, with division colors now on the shoulders over a black tunic, a color reversal of the previous uniforms, and the last one he had worn. He supposed it was a good thing that the division colored sashes remained.
It never ceased to gall him how Command could scrounge up the money for spiffy uniforms while allowing most of their fleet had to fall apart. At least they would look resplendent in the dustbin of history.
“Sit him down,” the captain ordered, barely looking up from the report he was crushing both hands. Seeing the paper document wasn’t surprising; Awokou loved archaic things. His weapon-laden office, with various armors and weapons from the Terran Empire’s past, plus others he had looted from alien worlds, filled the walls. Glover had always felt like he was walking into a museum whenever he was beckoned to the captain’s state room.
It was a place just as old and moldy as its captain. Glover had long dreamed of removing all of the relics once he had seized command. Kill Devil was an aged ship, but still, an injection of fresh, new blood could give the ship and crew new life. It’s just the old fossils, like Awokou, Picard, DeSoto, Keogh, and the rest, were still clinging to power.
Even now, at his end, he still fantasized of how he would cleanse this room of all the rusting things rooting Kill Devil and its crew to the past, a time of defeat and constraint. Though there was one item he would’ve kept.
“Commander Glover!” Awokou barked, drawing Terrence’s attention away from the long, wicked bat’leth that dominated the left wall. It was Awokou’s most prized possession. He had gained it, along with a vicious scar running the length of his face, bisecting it like a Bolian, in one of the few victories the Empire had scored against the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance that had devoured a great swath of the quadrant and kept the Empire at bay.
The victory had gained Awokou a lot of support in the Imperial Court, enough so that the man thought he was protected enough to do with Terrence as he chose. But Terrence had his own prominent supporters.
The hard bump against the chair brought Glover back to the present. He looked up at the smirking Commander Weiss, ship’s head of security and Awokou’s chief attack dog. Terrence regretted that he would never get a chance to fillet the man.
Awokou’s glower had been replaced by his usual hard look. “Enjoy your time in the booth? Did you have time to reflect on your mistakes?”
“My only mistake was that I didn’t gut you when I had the chance,” Glover riposted right before pain shot through his head and his ears rang. Terrence bent over, tears brimming.
“Enough Evan!” Awokou held up a hand.
When Glover sat back up, he took a moment to compose himself as best as possible. He hated having to wipe his tears away, but he did it. Looking directly at the captain, he said, “Weiss, whatever happens in the next few moments, I will find a way to make you regret every putting your sullied hands on me.”
“Good luck with that,” Weiss scoffed.
Awokou stroked his neat, graying goatee, carefully watching the exchange between the two men, assessing, judging, like always. “I gave you an opportunity, and I didn’t have to.”
“You only thought you were currying favor with my family,” Terrence shot back, his fear of the man’s wrath loosened by his time in the booth. There wasn’t much worse that the captain could do to him, that he could foresee. Being exposed to the fabled Tantalus field at this point would be a boon.
“That I was,” Awokou admitted. “And you proved even more of a failure here as you did on the Repulse.”
For the first time, in what seemed like an eternity, Glover’s wincing was not caused by pain. Memories stormed over him, buffeting him. “At least there, your rashness only resulted in the death of a dozen or so of your crewmen, but here, to make a play for me, to strike at the king? And you know what they say about if when you strike at a king….”
Terrence didn’t have to answer. He knew the Emerson admonition well. Jasmine had reminded him before he made his move. “And to think,” Awokou went on. “After Ferguson’s death in that transporter accident I promoted you, of all people…” the man paused, his eyes narrowing. He leaned over his desk. His voice lowered, and Glover tensed, because he sensed how much danger he was in. “The transporter ‘accident’…was no accident.”
Terrence kept his secrets to himself. He shrugged instead.
Awokou threw the papers at Glover. He caught most of them. He let the rest hit the floor. He didn’t want to bend over and expose how much pain he was still in, from his session in the booth.
“What’s this?” Glover said after glancing at the sheets of paper.
“You tell me?” Awokou said. “She was your wife after all.”
“Damn it,” Terrence glanced back down at the personnel file. “Liz, just what have you gotten yourself into now,” he whispered.
*********************************************************************
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