Kr'Togr pt.2

Posted on Tue 8th Aug, 2023 @ 11:02pm by Commodore H'tek
Edited on on Mon 28th Aug, 2023 @ 6:31pm

2,141 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: O' the Cardiff Rose

-Kr’togr-

{ Second Sons Raider- Tv Uuld - Abin Zak Sector}

Those most eager moments in a predators life counted among the handful of opportunities for perfect ambush. With the elaborate poise of the recumbent spider descending its web, wordless symphony arrayed three vessels in an orbiting attack vector without the use of engines and cold as space. When the cloak is decades out of date, any emissions cut is a buffer against their obsolescence. The Zakdorn were a defensively minded people, with ships tough enough to escape, and able to land killing blows. In three such smaller ships as these Raptors, the prey was a mammoth to them. However, time had shaped as water in canyons the indelible abilities of one such Captain Kr’togr.

A month of spurious attacks spun a narrative of patterned harassment the Zakdorn responded to with expected Tactical efficiency. Kr’togr had taken from the shipping lanes enough to be noticed, this response was factored in. If the governments were sending cruisers, it was time to move on, but not without a final payday. The good men and women of the Tv Uuld, Tv Aald, Tv Hhan were loyal enough but empires crumble when workers go hungry. And so for days, these vessels had made a series of appearances, drawn to the desolate void of space, gone dark and lived in cold.

The Zakdorn had hunted them for weeks up to this point, and an ambush had destroyed five of their cargo shuttles returning with a haul. Their escort took far too much damage and was abandoned to the depths of space. Losing crew to an ore raid was a morale loss to say the least, losing a ship was a bleeding wound.

Today was a good day, for the Zakdorn to die.

From the darkened bridge, a memento mori of foggy breaths snuffed the chance for anything other than grim focus. His Human half suffered the least, Klingons do not bare well in cold. Wearing a thick woolen sweater, though usually preferring a tight garment, fitted over disruptor armor, and a bandolier, with pocketed belt, and kept his Batleth at rest in the seat alcove behind him. Standing astride the command deck, The young Half-Klingon Captain surveyed the stations, feeling giddy in this primed moment as he saw the surveyed data from their latest passive sweeps.

The young woman at helm/gunnery exclaimed, “Captain! Cruiser Identified, Zaleef class Zakdorn cruiser. Weapons armed.” His gunner turned to report with a jeering smile, anticipating the slaughter ahead. Her tone carried an extra weight however, she wasn't mentioning something. Hzall was as fearless as the rest of them, why was the way she said that piquing his ear?

His glance at her prompted the reply, she wasn’t afraid, to give her all credit. “I see a problem in our approach sir. A Zaleef has redundant power and secondary shields.”

To his right the second officer supplemented with, “Their shields can absorb our strikes and regenerate before a second pass.”

Kr’togr understood the point, the Zaleef class was modern, up to Starfleet Specs as well. Regenerative shields, and an adaptive screen defense meant it would take pure power, or numbers to overwhelm it. They had neither.

Half of the job as a raider was performance theater, and it was time for action. The work to get here was extraordinary, the salary pay was not sufficient if they didn't take home a prize. So the human side smiled, and the Klingon side chuckled. Their life was one of outlaws and army men, the ship ahead of them was just a score to be won. Priceless tech, component parts, weapon stocks, all adding to their impressive portfolio, but when was the risk too great?

To say he was handsome is to suggest an opinion, but others had certainly called him handsome in their time with him. Just over two meters tall, rugged and lean, the soft ridges of the Klingon soul prominent over the Humans empathetic brow. With panache, his style demanded he show no fear here. Swagger, and a sense of theater lent to his aesthetic of derring-do. He was adorned in daggers, swords, things that shoot, an enduring archetype of necessity passed through the ages along with tactics and moral ambiguity.

“Well, they sent a strong one didn't they…” Kr’togr waited to make sure all were listening, “Almost two thousand on board, attack craft, regenerative shielding, I think that is a redundant fusion reaction chamber.”

Hzall, a Klingon whose pink blood had spilled for this ship by the gallon, watched the Captain ponder on their development. Their prey was too strong, this was far too dangerous and surely this was an announcement to withdraw. Their practice of baiting ships into combat was sound, but only when they held the advantage. The small bridge had only two others, the Executive Officer Paur, and Engineer Klees. It left the Captain doing an about face every five steps in his musings and four eyes rebounding wall to wall.

Another chuckle, as the moments passed, detection possible at any of them by the warship and their ambush potentially ruined. Kr’togr continued his elliptical madness circuit. “If I could pace… if only I could pace. I could really think of a good plan if I could pace.”

He stopped, the performance reaching its keynote and the point he was building to. With a dangerous confidence, he said only, “I bet there’s room to pace on their bridge.”

Paur breathed in sharply, the thought of it daunting. They didn't have the means to take this ship, surely this was part of a ploy. Hzall went wide eyed as well, the enormity of that task immediately evident.

Kr’togr knew the size as well, so he divided it into smaller goals. “First, our plan stays in place. Aald and Hhan will disable shields, allowing transports to take place, we focus these on the bridge instead. We will block comms, and deploy our torpedo bay into their engine compartment to prevent their escape.”

Paur was again unhappy. Torpedoes cost real money and to fill the firing racks of three vessels would drain the accounts for the year. Using even a few of them offset profits from the largest hauls. With no assurances outside of Kr’togr, this operation was putting too much on the line at once. The banks they drew from weren’t endless, a budget was imposed by virtue of the time of year, and anonymity so deep nobody but K’togr could get access.

“Sire! We can fire all our torpedoes, and still have our hands full with what is left. Troops on board will be surrounded and interrogated-”

Kr’togr was fast, “Paur! We are doing this, get on board or shut the hell up. We aren’t taking the stores here, we are taking the whole damn ship. These are Zakdorn, they are soft, they want to live and we give them a chance to surrender and live. All we have to do is control the Bridge and Engineering, they will recognize defeat and offer surrender. These people believe in checkmate, so we do not kill them wantonly understand?!”

Klees asked the next questions, “Even if we disrupt shields for transport, taking the bridge would be harder to pull off, unnecessary for that tactic right?”

Kr’togr looked right away to the Engineer, a combat veteran with prosthesis all over of his own design. A silver eye scanned parallel to its organic component, but data linkup fed him also. It was immediately apparent to him, but the others need to see like he did.,

Klees enlarged a graphic he was working with, indicating the Zakdorn cruisers outlines. He pointed to the command deck. ”They have to have inhibitors on redundancy to prevent beam out, I mean even we do.”

The graphic showed a path, as Klees continued on, “…for best results, the Comms relay four decks, right about here, beneath the command deck by design cannot have a signal interference device so that’s your in.”

Hzall spoken her mind as well, “A glorious ploy sire, we have three ships and a four to six second window afer our assault on their shields to send perhaps… twenty warriors over from our ships.

Kr’togr grimaced, his lip curling in a signature rictus grin. It wasn’t enough, they’d all die fo nothing.

An Engineer born to a life of crime, Klees didn’t ask why, just worked on how. He looked over the graphic, pointing, “If they all go directly to Engineering, via the worker bee station here, you got a straight shot to Engineering, bypassing their hardpoints along the main corridor.”

Kr’togr pointed at Klees, and spoke to Paur, “See?! He is on board. Be like Klees.”

Paur knew when to smile and wave, so he took the joke in stride, “Well so be it. We can increase our odds further sir. We can control transit between our vessels. We pull the Hhan’s crew into ours and the Aald can take any overage. Hhan can Warp Sled into the Zaleef. Those shields won't regenerate past that.”

Hzall was torn between nervous anticipation and manic laughter impulses. “That would destroy them!”

Paur shook his head, “No, only if they stood still and did nothing to prevent this.”

Kr’togr was listening, and when the lull passed over them he spoke up. “Hhan has the cracked Warp Assembly Matrix, that’s why you chose it.”

Paur nodded, “Aye Sire. Her days are not long for the world. She has had a long life, and deserves better than rust.”

The Captain had the new plan ready, “Relay upon signal, updates as follows. 1. Targeting Shields at Engineering, Aft Screen Vector. 2. Troops to location as indicated, soft shots only, no losses. Update target objectives and local maps. 3. Evacuation of personnel and Vital assets from Hhan to Tv Uuld after Round one complete. 4. Assign remote pilot to TV Uuld. Carry out the rest of the plan as indicated under the “Wing One” Plan.”

Paur sent the communication to their pending outbox, the moment stealth was broken the communication had to be fast.

Holding a triangle formation with the cruiser, the Tv Aald and Tv Hhan awaited the signal.

Kr’togr pulled his sweater off, the tactical undergarment underneath skin tight and phaser proof. He was ready for combat, and the time was right. Paur didn't even bat an eye, the Captain should lead from the front. At least there were no objections until he heard, “Klees, will you split my signal off to the comms deck?”

Klees didnt think much of it, just replied, “Yeah, it’ll be right around here.” He pointed to the diagram, Kr’togr looked it over.

Paur spoke up, “You intend to go to their bridge by yourself?!”

The Captain smiled, “Mostly try to get there, Mostly hope to keep them from focusing on me and not Engineering. You can send me reinforcements if you really feel twisted about it.”

Kr’ togr was the son of Partha, a pirate king turned noble house. Nephew to H’tek the Mad Pirate. It was no wonder this reckless plan fell into place, and through tenacity alone Paur trusted it would be made to happen.

“Sire, take Melikor with you. He will keep you safe.” Paur had dual reason, the Romulan was not trusted amongst the crew. Kr’togr somehow did though, and flashed an annoyed look at his officer. However prudence held his tongue, a wisdom thankfully earned from his mother who had taken great pains to train the Human side to be more assertive.

He took the extra moment to rephrase the litany in his mind. “If Melikor dies, now or tomorrow, I will hold you responsible. He is on this crew, your crew. I have faith in him even if you don’t.”

Paur said nothing, disdain for Romulans written into his DNA. Mellikor emerged from the comm station, an alcove they let him build so they wouldn’t have to look at him. The small Romulan had a toolkit with him, and several disruptors, a bandolier of various gadgets. Kr’togr acknowledged him with a brisk nod, Mellikor returned the favor.

There was no time like the present, as every second brought danger of revelation. Their signal was a subspace ping, something the Zakdorn would detect but not be able to understand immediately as a signal to attack.

The crew sounded off, in their positions, boarders on transporter pads, racks loaded, weapons ready to fire with battery systems poised for lineup and fast fire. The “go” command was waiting for confirmation, so Kr’togr took deep breaths before the storm took them, flipping the toggle switch and pressing the authorization.

!Ping!

-TBC

 

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