Lust for War (Part 1 of 4)

Posted on 23 Aug 2015 @ 12:45am by Queen Regent Lirha Saalm & M'Ressa & Commander (La) Flektor Stace & Lieutenant Commander (La'Hom) Gerrin illm Warraquim & Lieutenant (Sogh) Andreus Romar & Lieutenant JG (SoghHom) Jynn & Lieutenant JG (SoghHom) Benice Gyce & Ensign (Lagh) Cyrin Fel & Beaumont & Warrant Officer ('etlh Suvwl') Tinaro Cyi
Edited on on 23 Aug 2015 @ 12:50am

2,499 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 09 - Empires
Location: IKS Saalm - Deck 10, Briefing Room
Timeline: MD 01 - 1630 hrs

[ON]

The lights were dim in the Negh'Var's primary briefing room, as they were all over the ship. A light haze permeated the room and was occasionally washed out at certain angles by the deep red ambient lighting coming from both the floor and ceiling strobes. Nostrils flared from the deep musk of the starship and all the Klingons on board. This was life aboard the IKS Saalm, the KCA's lead flagship battlecruiser that would prosecute the insolent Terran Empire and eliminate the Human race from the stars.

The vessel was not at red alert, but rather the entire crew was always at a state of high readiness while the vessel was cloaked, and now the queen regent found herself waiting impatiently for the rest of her senior officers to arrive at their scheduled briefing time in the ready room. There was much to discuss and new developments in their hunt for the TE admiralty needed to be addressed immediately.

With a serrated ceremonial knife in her hand and with her deep maroon cloak attached to her shoulders, the queen regent ran a green hand up through her short brown hair and pushed it back into a respectable faux hawk while she waited for everyone to arrive.

Andreus Romar's entrance to the briefing room was quiet and light-footed. Although there was a certain swagger to his hips, his posture was otherwise diffident. He held his arms close to his sides and clasped his hands behind his back. Romar's form was clad in scaly grey armour that was similarly understated. Only his shock of blond hair stood out. Given his most recent assignments, Romar wore the V-emphasized armour favoured by the Cardassians, rather than the dramatic fur and claws favoured by the Klingons. Romar entered the briefing room through the door furthest from the queen regent, and he approached only close enough to select a chair halfway along the table. Romar offered a silent salute to the queen regent without making eye contact, and then he slid into his chair and tucked it in close to the table.

Next to enter the room was the disgustingly energetic and perhaps overly excited Jynn. With a bit of a stride he hopped up onto the table and placed himself towards the center in a laying position as though he were a magnificent centerpiece to be beheld by all who had and would enter, his head rested upon his left hand that was anchored to the table by way of his elbow. He had hoped that some of his lovers would show up, an eager glimmer in his eyes as he watched the door. Perhaps one day everyone would be his lover. Certainly with perseverance and a bit of coaxing he could make this happen.

He grinned widely at Queen Regent, soaking in and almost devouring the pheromones she produced no matter how small or great the amount that was released. Even without the pheromones her mere emotions and desires alone could be sensed by him. He was intoxicated in a way no other could ever be, drunk on love. As they waited for the others to come in all Jynn could do was peer into Queen's eyes. Someway, somehow, she would be his. Without a word spoken all he did was continue to bare his glistening teeth towards the queen in a most Deltan salute of his own.

Naois was silent as he entered, his blue eyes instantly surveying the room. He didn't like briefings, and he liked crowds even less. Briefings were time away better spent interrogating people, which was something he did on his own, never with a crowd or even spectators. Well...rarely with spectators as sometimes, it was necessary.

Next, Fecklor Stace walked through the door almost sneering as he entered. His thin frame sidled over to the table as he looked about the people already gathered. His dark eyes fell upon the queen regent as the right side of his mouth curled up into a nod of hello to her but he ignored the rest. He scrunched up his nose to her as he lowered his head. Flektor held disdain for the majority of the crew and only regarded the queen regent with the respect she deserved. The others he could care less whether they were in attendance or not. He looked to the chair besides Saalm and took her usual right hand side.

Gerrin paused just outside the room. "Another meeting, why can they not just get on with things. There were too many meetings, action was what was needed," the thoughts hit. He took a deep breath and straightened. There was a fierceness that glittered in the faceted green eyes and his demeanour took on even more of the aloofness that Akkadians suffered amoungest the unwashed masses.

He wrinkled his nose as he entered, the stink of the pheromones was almost palpable. That idiot of a Deltan lay sprawled on the table like he was some main course at a banquet. "Perhaps," Gerrin thought to himself, "I shall make his wish come true." He ran his tongue over those sharp inner teeth wondering what Deltan tasted like. His eyes lifted briefly to the Queen and he made a formal bow like one would to a matron of a House and thought again, "And overly sexed bitch Orion."

A sweep of his right hand and a smile he then straightened, "You Majesty." Gerrin did not take a chair but instead moved to take a spot toward the back of the room. He was an observer here for the Akkadian government not a crew member. His oddly formal uniform proclaimed that.

"Oh look," Naois sneered, gesturing towards the Akkadian. "Someone invited entertainment!"

Gerrin did not show the slightest emotion. He did nod a chin toward the Deltan and said, "If you wish I can make it a dinner and a show."

The doors to the briefing room slid open and a figure simply stood in the doorway regarding the crew that has assembled so far. His grey-blue eyes barely moved, he just simply tilted his head as if listening to them than actually looking around. Beaumont unclasped his hands from behind his back and held them down by his sides. He stepped into the room just enough that the door stayed open. He turned the palm of one of his hands sightly upwards like he was wading through waist high water. He'd only taken one step. That was all that he'd been instructed to do, and Beaumont didn't like to do more than what was instructed of him. No one in the room would really have seen him before, and no doubt they would be curious as to who he was or why he was interrupting the briefing. Their minds crackled like static to him as their thoughts were buzzing, but he ignored it. Instead Beaumont nodded to the queen regent. Then over his shoulder called out to someone else.

"Two tactile telepaths. Threat is minimal." Beaumont's voice sounded raspy and quiet. Observant people would have noticed the hand marks around his throat and would have known why his voice was strained.

From behind the strange figure who had preceded him, the scientist Cyrin Fel stepped into the room. His eyes were the same silvery-blue as Beaumont's, but whatever similarities the two men shared stopped there. He stood tall and confident, broad-shouldered and strong, not the stereotypical scientist who hid themselves away in a lab. One hand rested on the hilt of a deadly weapon at his waist, but with his creation's assessment of the dangers within, he was sure he wouldn't need it.

With an imperious gesture, Fel pointed to the deck at the feet of the Queen Regent, ordering Beaumont to his knees silently, as he approached his benefactor and bowed his head to her. "My Queen Regent," Fel began, his voice sure but cold, lacking any sort of emotion. "I present to you my latest weapon. It is ready to serve you, and I am certain that you will be most pleased. I have a demonstration prepared for you, my Queen Regent."

Beaumont dropped to his knees. But he did so with a sneer. It was obvious that while Beaumont did as he was bid, he was not a willing slave by any stretch. His eyes remained on the floor and he clasped his hands behind his back waiting for further instruction.

"A demonstration?" Lirha's ears perked up and her eyes shone a with a bright green glint of glee reflecting from the starlight that had seeped in through the window. Over the past three days she had been less-than-impressed with her crew's ability -- or lack of -- to find the Terran Empire's forward outpost, but this...'demonstration' would perhaps take her mind off her recent discontent.

"Proceed!" she barked.

Fel turned back towards the door, and nodded to one of the honour guard who stood outside. A moment later, two large Klingons dragged a struggling Terran between them. Dressed in dirty rags, bruised and beaten, Taliesin Cynwrig still resisted his captors as he was hauled into the briefing room, pulled and fought, but unable to break free. With another nod from Fel, the Klingons threw Taliesin to the deck, hard. The Terran grunted with pain, but began to gather himself to make one final attack even though it would cost him his own life.

"Beaumont," Fel said, a tone of command in his voice. What it really meant was begin.

Beaumont's eyes moved for the first time. Cutting them to the side to watch the prisoner that had been brought forward. He knew a demonstration had been planned for the Queen Regent and her officers present, but he also felt the demonstration was contrived and lacked creativity. Beaumont could get quite creative. Regardless of how he felt about the situation he unclasped his hands from behind his back and held them down by his thighs, with his palms facing forward as he felt for the prisoner's psionic signature. When he'd found it, he grasped it with his mind forcefully.

Beaumont wondered briefly if they knew of the human prisoner's telepathic abilities, but also didn't really care. The prisoner being a telepath just made his demonstration easier. Like a hacker infiltrating a computer he used the human's telepathy as an exploit, taking over his Central Nervous System and forcing his way all the way to his ANS. He was now in control of all his voluntary and involuntary functions.

"Stop." Beaumont's strained voice commanded. His eyes returned to the floor in front of his knees, but he was addressing the prisoner who had stopped struggling instantly. Beaumont forced the man to come to his knees beside him on the floor. Suddenly the Vulcan hybrid's head turned and he addressed Cyrin Fel over his shoulder. "Level three psionic less than ten meters." Beaumont cautioned Fel, indicating that another telepath was about to join them.

Fel's eyes turned towards the door at his creation's statement. He had plans for all these telepaths. Experiments to run, tests to perform, and ways to make them stronger like he had done with Beaumont. Now, if only they would volunteer...or fall from the Queen Regent's favour and be given to the scientist to do with as he pleased.

Tyrion walked in just as the demonstration had started and he froze in the doorway. His eyes traveled from the pair, to the people gathered around the table and his face fell. Grayson wasn't here, and he was ordered to meet him here. He gingerly walked around Fel, and took up position near one of the bulkheads, taking everything in, so that he could report back to his master later.

When Tyrion had settled himself into a corner Beaumont returned his attention to the floor. Having control over the prisoners autonomic functions and CNS, the two of them spoke in eerie unison.

"This man's name is Taliesin." Their voices were perfectly in sync. "He is scheduled for execution. Does the Queen Regent wish his death to be swift or creative?" The sounds of Taliesin's voice were as calm as Beaumont's as they spoke together. Though the terrified look on Taliesin's face conveyed the horror of having his body completely taken over.

As each body entered the room Jynn became more and more giddy. Especially with the telepaths and empaths. He laid down on the table and closed his eyes, drowning in emotion. And then there was that prisoner. He wasn't fond of sensing death unless it was by his hands and even then he was loath to be in a situation which required it. It was a bit distracting, but he allowed himself to fully feel the man's last emotions. It wasn't often he got to feel death and needed a reminder of what it was like. He was ready to die again.

Tyrion had a horrified expression on his face, his altered grey eyes wide as he watched, unable to down out the emotion of fear coming from the prisoner. He knew what it was like, to fear for your life. To not have much control over what you could and couldn't do.

M'Ressa was running late, some matter one of her servants had been unable to fix to her satisfaction. Her plea's for a second chance had gone on deaf ears, and soon so too had her life. The blood still coated her retracted claws, the bloodsong still ringing in her ears. She glanced at the prisoner, no care in her eyes. Just another Terran, but why was he here?

The torture was delicious, and Flektor Stace's eyes widened with delight as he watched upon the display. He didn't move, or clap as his heart wanted him to, but he sat and drank in the destruction.

How long Gyce had been watching? Unknown. But had she been the one to handle the torture, she'd of gotten results far better. Still, it was not her place and she knew it. Besides, a female Deltan's head currently resided in her office as a testament of her work. That no Terran sympathizer would escape her watch.

To Be Continued...

[OFF]

--

Queen Regent Lirha Saalm
Commanding Officer
IKS Saalm
[PNPC Saalm]

SohHom Naois Mercy
Interrogator
IKS Saalm
[pnpc T'Vanna]

Tyrion
Hirad's/Grayson Jones' Servant/Slave
IKS Saalm
[pnpc T'Vanna]

M'Ressa
(dead)
IKS Saalm
[pnpc Min]

Sogh Andreus Romar
Gunner
IKS Saalm
[PNPC Kohl]

SoghHom Jynn
Chief Flight Control Officer
IKS Saalm
[PNPC Jynn]

Commander Flektor Stace
Second in Command
IKS Saalm
[PNPC Stace]

LCmdr Gerrin illm Warraquim
Military Observer
IKS Saalm
[PNPC Allyndra]

Tyrien Cyi
Son of Tinaro Cyi
IKS Saalm
[PNPC Charles]

Beaumont
Telepathic WMD
IKS Saalm

Cyrin Fel
Weapons Designer
IKS Saalm

Taliesin Cynwrig
Terran Empire Officer & Captive
(Dead)

RSS Feed