Defiance

Posted on 19 Dec 2016 @ 6:43am by Lieutenant Tuula Voutilainen M.D. & Rear Admiral Lirha Saalm

2,149 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Episode 12 - Recluse
Location: IKS Neg JoK - Deck 3, Interrogation Chamber
Timeline: MD 03 - 1800 hrs

[ON]

Inside the interrogation chamber, Tuula struggled against her restraints for a few moments before giving up. After being dragged away from trying to fix up some bruises and bumps, her captors had cuffed her hands to the frame of her chair and brought her down to a small, dimly-lit room.

"You know," she said, staring up at her Klingon interrogator, her expression one of exasperation and a touch of defiance, "if you want to tie me up, you should at least buy me dinner first."

"Name and rank!" the large Klingon barked back. The severe facial expression plastered across his ridged features indicated he didn't seem the least bit concerned with small talk or pleasantries. He was there for one reason and one alone -- to extract information.

"Not exactly the best pickup line I've heard," replied Tuula, rolling her eyes. "Far from the worst, though." She took a deep breath and stared into the eyes of the interrogator. "Doctor Tuula Voutilainen. Lieutenant. Starfleet. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but the circumstances are far from ideal."

Off to the side, standing to the left and slightly behind the restrained Human woman, another Klingon guard held a data pad in his hand and began to enter in her information as she presented it. A record keeper, of sorts.

"What starship are you assigned to? What was your mission?" the first Klingon continued.

"The ship you attacked, unprovoked, in violation of at least a dozen interstellar treaties," shot back Tuula. "I suppose honour doesn't mean much anymore, when one can ambush science vessels in peacetime."

So. The woman was a member of the Galileo crew and not attached to another assignment. This was fortunate and a valuable piece of information. He briefly ignored her attempts to challenge his honor as he realized she had not answered his questions in their entirety. "I asked you what your mission was!" he repeated angrily.

"Lieutenant Tuula Voutilainen," replied Tuula in a measured tone, ignoring her captor's question and recalling standard procedure regarding prisoners of war and interstellar treaties. "Serial number DY-392-2001."

He had no time for such games -- they would only waste time and prevent the inevitable. Without thinking twice, he cocked his fist back and delivered an ear-pounding blow to the side of the woman's face, sending her head to the side with an audible crack. "What is your mission?!" he asked for the third time.

Instinctively, Tuula tried to reach up for her face, but was prevented from doing so by the restraints. She could still feel the pain of the blow and some wetness on her face, no doubt her own blood. "You know, if you don't listen, we aren't going to get anywhere with this," she said. "I already told you, we're a science vessel." Clearing her mind, she took a couple quick breaths and looked up directly at the interrogator. "Besides, under article 12 of the Khitomer accords, I am only required to give you my name, rank, and serial number. Not to meniton that mistreatment of prisoners is a violation of at least three interstellar treaties."

"The Khitomer Accords do not apply here!" he answered with fiery eyes and the most savage expression a Klingon could present. "We do not speak for the Klingon Empire," he continued before giving a short moments pause. "If you believe your Federation treaties will protect you, then I urge you to reconsider." That was the one and only warning before a pain stick was jabbed into the back of her shoulder by one of the guards behind her. The device hissed and crackled while it sent intense electrical pulses into the woman's nervous centers.

"What is your mission here?" he repeated. "Why did you enter the expanse?"

As the pain coursing through Tuula's body subsided, she took several gasps for air before looking up at the interrogator once more. "I suppose a safeword is out of the question, then," she said, intentionally ignoring his question. "I usually use pineapple, but I know teapot is very popular as well," she added, bracing herself for the pain she knew would come.

The thin yet long information extraction device quickly found some of Tuula's naked flesh, this time against her spinal column on the back of her neck. Her purple and black hair melted away under the electrical current and some of it melted into her skin where the tip of the weapon sent out large sparks of red energy.

Tuula just closed her eyes and winced in pain. It felt like a tattoo gun, only more intense and with the sensation spread out over a larger area.

Her response was to go to her happy place. Focusing hard, she imagined herself inside a tattoo studio, one whose walls were adorned with delightful items like whips and chains and bone saws. Clutching the armrests she was restrained to, she somehow managed to make it through the pain.

"Careful," she said, catching her breath once the Klingon had removed the device from the back of her neck, "that's one of my favourite tattoos."

"Why did you enter the nebula?!" he yelled. Answers were demanded and the guard was beginning to get grumpy. He grabbed her throat and began to squeeze tightly around her esophagus while peering into her eyes with a menacing glare. "Answer me!"

As the Klingon's burly hands tightened around her neck, Tuula struggled for air. As her vision started to cloud and go black, she wondered if this was the end. Then, a sudden realization. They wanted information from her, and whatever they thought she knew, they wouldn't kill her until they got it. Not to mention that Klingons presumably didn't consider prisoners who talked to be honourable enough to share the air that they breathe. All she knew was that her only hope was to hold out as long as she could. Perhaps her interrogators would get bored, or perhaps someone would come to save them.

As soon as she was released, Tuula started gasping for air as her vision came back. "I must admit, breathplay isn't my thing. Though you do remind me of my ex-boyfriend." She took a couple deep breaths before continuing. "He was an asshole."

He regarded her with a devious smirk before scowling at her remark. "I can see why!" he laughed, which was quickly accompanied by chuckles from the other guards present. "No warrior should have to tolerate a human female such as yourself." To bring his point home, he slammed his armored fist deep into Tuula's ribcage. The taut flesh of her lower torso bent from the impact and an audible 'pop' could be heard when one of her ribs broke.

As the air rushed out of her lungs from the impact, Tuula coughed a few times before she could catch her breath, only aggravating the extreme pain she felt in her ribcage. Definitely a broken rib, she figured, likely with some internal bleeding. "He wasn't a warrior. He was a coward," she managed to utter. "A coward who liked to get off on hurting people weaker than himself. Just like you."

Tuula's comment seemed to strike a hidden nerve with the Klingon. He flexed his biceps and contemplated breaking her face with a well-timed strike, but instead lashed out at her with a verbal assault. "...You dare compare me to a weak Human housewife?!" He leaned in close to her and put one of his hands around her ribs where he had just punched her. He squeezed his fingers tightly into her flesh until he could feel the damaged bone begin to bend.

"You are a prisoner! An enemy! Do not feel sorry for yourself or attempt to gain my sympathy. A Klingon woman would never be as weak as you...she would never claim to be the victim," he hissed. "Now answer my question! Why did you enter the nebula?"

"All right!" shouted Tuula, the pain in her ribs getting worse. "You win. I'll tell everything." She coughed a couple times, having difficulty bearing the pain, before looking back up at her captor. "The Galileo was the lead observation vessel, tasked with finding the optimum invasion route. Starfleet has been experimenting with Borg technology recovered from the Delta Quadrant. On hidden research labs spread throughout the Federation, we have been quietly breeding an army of drones. They make the perfect shock troops -- strong, tough, and unquestioningly loyal. Not to mention the fear they strike into the hearts of their enemies."

Tuula took a deep breath before continuing her tall tale. "Of course, to build our forces, we need a fresh supply of humanoids to assimilate. That's where the Klingons come in -- with strong bones and thick skulls, you Klingons make the best drones, that is, if we can perfect our assimilation technique. We just needed some Klingons to experiment on. The Galileo was bait in a trap, which you fell for. In a matter of minutes, dozens of Borg cubes, built at shipyards in the Gamma Quadrant by our allies, the Jem'Hadar, under the command of Admiral Picard, will bear down upon this nebula and assimilate everyone inside to expand our army. That is, if the concealed nanoprobes that we released onto your ship don't get you first."

She let out a little chuckle before the pain in her ribs became too much. "Enjoy your honourless existence as a protocol drone. Assimilation isn't that bad... I hear it's actually less painful that you would think."

He listened to her revelation as she told it. At first, he had become wide-eyed at the notion that the Federation could possibly be preparing for an invasion. And with the assistance of Borg technology, no less. But as she revealed more and more information, seemingly preposterous for what he knew of the Federation, he slowly realized she was continuing to banter with him under the guise of sincerity. His eyes squinted while he once again moved his face close to hers. "An unlikely story, as fantastic as it is. When I am finished with you...you will wish you had been assimilated."

The lead guard gave a nod to the other guard behind her. Unseen to Tuula, he opened a small drawer and procured a bowl-shaped metallic device with several straps and metallic braces attached to it. Slowly yet forcefully, he took a hearty grip of the lieutenant's hair to pull her head back and hold it in place while he attached the instrument to her head. It covered the top of her skill and had a collar at the bottom which contained two small attachments on either side, likely medical devices of some sort. Where the temple area was located, two large probes extended which pressed firmly into the flesh on the side of each of Tuula's eyes when it was fastened to her head.

"I do not desire to use this device on you," the lead guard began. "But I have no choice. It will damage your brain if you resist and you will never be the same. The neurological probing will be excruciating and it will rewire your neural pathways." He then leaned forward to whisper something to her one last time before the procedure began. "If you would like me to kill you to save the dignity you have left, I will grant your request," he offered, motioning with a flick of his eyes to her crippled lower body and now impending torture.

"Given the choice, I'd rather not give you the satisfaction of seeing me die," countered Tuula, as she tried to muster the strength and courage to continue her resistance to the interrogation. But her fear of the device and what it would do to her brain for a moment overwhelmed her. "It's funny... you go to all this trouble sending out a phony distress call to lure us into the nebula and attack us, then you wonder what we're doing here. I should be asking the same question of you."

"Yess...perhaps in your fantasy world where I have dishonored myself by being taken prisoner, you can interrogate me," he laughed, leaning back his head to allow his booming chuckles to echo across the walls.

Tuula struggled against her restraints once more, but all it did was agitate her broken rib once more. She could begin to sense a copper taste in her mouth; no doubt there was some internal bleeding going on. Steeling herself for one more act of defiance, she spat the blood back out and onto her interrogator's uniform.

"Go to hell," she said, as she clenched her fists and prepared for the torture to come.

[OFF]

Lieutenant Tuula Voutilainen
Assistant Chief Medical Officer
USS Galileo

Klingon Guard
Interrogator
IKS Neg Jok
[PNPC Saalm]

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