Enter the...Hirogen

Posted on Thu 3rd Jun, 2021 @ 3:51pm by Voareth Darqaron
Edited on on Thu 22nd Jul, 2021 @ 3:03pm

1,320 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Waging Peace
Location: Refugee Processing
Timeline: MD 2, 0930

Voareth piloted her craft slowly behind a refugee transport.

She had only recently arrived in this area of space and quickly noticed the chaos and uncertainty of it all. It was definitely fertile ground for people of her expertise. Despite appearances, Voareth was actually on a job. Her target, a defaulting Ferengi aboard the refugee transport. The appearances, the plasma leak erupting from behind her ship was actually set by Voareth to make it look as though she was nearly derelict. Her shields were nonfunctional however and lowered levels of dilithium were evident that she was almost certainly close to being derelict. She simply decided to slap on a plasma leak for show.

Voareth ignored all hails from the refugee transport. She only sent back static and incomprehensible textual messages. The subject of about half the hails were for her to identify the manner of vessel she piloted. Voareth knew that anyone who studied the Voyager’s logs in detail would know this was a Hirogen Hunting vessel, though designed smaller for one, maybe two, occupants. With cramped but adequate living spaces, this ship was Voareth’s home for some decades now.

If anyone did not know the Voyager’s logs in detail, they would simply think they were about to make first contact or had come across someone with a custom-built craft of their own. Scans would show intricate designs along with the ability for shields, torpedoes and phasers. The shields were, aforementionedly, down and any scan would show depleted torpedoes and powerless phaser banks.

Any and all outside observers would simply categorize the vessel as harmless. Her pilot though, was far from harmless and was already plotting the demise of one Ferengi aboard the refugee transport. Voareth performed a quick inventory of her weapons and the tools she would need to complete the job. Ferengi had enormous ears and could hear almost anything. She would have to be stealthy. Ferengi were small and agile. She would have to be quick. Ferengi were loud and obnoxious. A slice across the throat with a hand over the mouth as she pulled her prey to a secluded place quickly and quietly would do the job nicely.

Another hail came in from the transport and Voareth continued letting them eat static. Suddenly though, an alarm went off indicating she was being scanned. Voareth already knew the transport did not currently have the capability to scan, so she looked out. Performing a scan of her own could alert anyone out there that she was not as bad off as she was appearing. In the vast void of space, an oddly shaped station, of sorts, came into view. It was partially blocked from view by the refugee transport but it grew much larger as they grew closer.

Voareth maintained course close behind the transport.

A hail came in from the station and Voareth again returned only static and garbled text messages. The station appeared in very good repair and quite intricately designed and built. There was certainly going to be an impressive alerting system as well as a trained security force aboard. Perhaps they would know something of the vile Federation. In either case, Voareth would have to be careful and decided that her Ferengi prey would be among the living for a little bit longer. She would need to case the place and plot out her deadly deed with precise care and attention.

Voareth smiled a little. This was going to be a prime hunt.

Station personnel eventually learned she could hear them. As she was still leaking plasma, Voareth was instructed to power down her vessel to stop the leak. She started the shutdown sequence and then responded with more static. So, they knew she could hear them at least. The station’s tractor beam took over and pulled her vessel in. The refugee transport went another direction. Voareth would have to search a bit for her Ferengi prey. They were ugly and obnoxious enough that finding one would not be a problem. She only hoped they all did not look alike and that there were not too many.

Her ship was fully powered down as it was pulled inside. She could see personnel moving about inside the docking area motioning where to set her down. They even bumped her into another stationary ship before lowering. Apparently this station was nearing storage capacity and they had to use all the space they had.

Extending her landing gear, Voareth stood from her seat and gathered what little belongings she needed. Nothing for the hunt yet. The station appeared pretty impressive outside, so there was not a doubt in Voareth’s mind that they also had sophisticated scanning technology. She would need to observe shift changes and personnel placement before attempting to gather her weapons and tools for the hunt.

Right now though, she needed to get aboard, get scanned in, and talk to whomever she needed to acquire access to wherever the refugees were allowed. Moving to her living area, Voareth stripped off her clothes. She had been wearing garments for the hunt as she had previously seen an opportunity to go after the Ferengi. The time had passed. Now that she saw no opportunity to immediately go after her prey, it was time to dress more casually, blend in and get to know the place. Voareth donner her comfortable and casual clothing, inserted her eyebrow stud and even put on her crystalline headdress. A refugee, yes, but she did not want to appear destitute or homeless.

Grabbing her pocket digital assistant/scanning device, Voareth made her way to the docking ramp. There was a final thud as the tractor beam lowered he vessel to the floor. She opened the docking ramp and started her way down. Tapping at her PDA, the ramp started retracting into the ship and the door started closing.

“Miss,” came a voice. “Miss,” Voareth turned to look and the voice belonged to some poor sap speaking to her. She was about to scold the boy, maybe man, before he spoke up. “If you please, follow the yellow lights. They will lead you to station processing.”

Voareth nodded her understanding and started in that direction after working her way around the other ship she was parked really close to. She approached where the boy/man was standing and realized he was holding out his hand. Voareth’s work brought her into contact with many beggars during her travels and she knew the scene all too well. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a singular coin and flicked it to him. It was a gold-fortified silver/titanium coin from an area of space far away; possibly worthless or useless here. Still, he thanked her as she passed and ventured on toward the processing area of the station.

The refugees were herded into a single file line as they slowly marched down a corridor. As each person stepped through a scanner it beeped indicating a good scan. Voareth was wondering who, if not many, were on the receiving end of that scan, seeing any and all who came aboard. It was obvious to her though that station command would certainly want to know who and how many of the various races were boarding.

Were the any El-Aurians? Would someone be interested in an El-Aurian?

Voareth did not let that thought bother her much as she grew closer to the scanner.

There came an odd beep and said person was pulled to the side, apparently carrying contraband.

Voareth left her weapons with her ship and did not currently possess anything she, at least, would consider to be contraband. She passed through and the scanner gave an inviting beep. Looking at the computer monitor as she passed, she saw ‘El-Aurian. Clear of Infection. OK to proceed’ displayed. The worker at the terminal threw a thumb over his shoulder indicating her to go onward.

 

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