Voar the Hirogen Huntress

Posted on Thu 27th May, 2021 @ 8:38pm by Voareth Darqaron

2,015 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Waging Peace
Location: Somewhere in/out Hirogen Space
Timeline: Approximately 21 Years Ago

A long time ago in a region of space far, far away….

In a remote area, sometimes within (or without) the ever-changing borders of Hirogen space, on a remote planet, atop a mountain of a remote island, surrounded by a thick canopy created by the majestic hirog trees, sat a cabin. From its front door, one could gaze down into a lush valley with a river worming this way and that spilling into a bay. On this day in particular, a setting sun gave a spray of color ranging from bright reds to dull purples throughout the sky. Sparkling specks appeared and dotted the darkening canvas.

Voar did not take in the sights. She had seen them all many multitudinous times. She entered the cabin dragging a hefty sack behind her. Its contents offered no assistance whatsoever, but that was of no consequence to Voar. With relative ease, she got the sack inside, unzipped it and placed the sack’s only content onto her dissection table.

It was the carcass of her prey of a most recent hunt. Save for a stab wound to the chest, straight into the heart and strangulation marks along the neck, the recently deceased was in fairly good condition.

Voar began by removing all articles of clothing and discarding them off to the side. Dissection commenced with a single slice across the upper chest area then a slice down the torso. She sent her blade up to the base of the neck then, carefully lifting the head, she made a single cut all the way around the neck, careful not to cut too deep and damaging other tissue. A Hirogen’s process of claiming trophies was a delicate and precise procedure.

With a cut from the base of the neck at the top of the back, Voar brought her blade up and over the top of the head to the brow. From there, she rested the head back onto the table. Reaching around with both hands, she gently pulled, peeled and removed the face of her prey leaving a skinless head and bulging eyes as though he was still alive. Those eyes appeared as though still in the final moment of terror as she had watched the last bit of life flow away. She would get back to the eyes later. For now, she was going to begin removing organs from within the torso.

There came a familiar clank down the hall followed by a pair of footfalls.

Voar was busy sawing away at the ribcage.

Clank, footfall, footfall.

She was close to revealing the heart and lungs, already working it out on how to gently remove them.

Clank, footfall, footfall.

“I see you have returned,” said the husky voice of the aging Hirogen.

“A worthy prey,” said Voar. She kept her eyes on her work. “He deserves care and attention.” She set her bonesaw aside and gripped at the ribcage, pulling in opposite directions and exposing the once protected organs.

“Leave that alone for a moment,” said the elder as he shuffled himself by. He slowly ventured forth into the sitting area. “I have to tell you something.”

Voar looked on at him in bewilderment for a moment before obeying. She cleaned the area up a bit and placed her tools to the side in an orderly fashion. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said to the eyes bulging forth from the skinless face.

After washing her hands, she arrived in the sitting room as the elder was lowering himself into his favorite chair. It was a large wooden rocking chair specifically designed for aging Hirogens which were a rare sight, usually referred to as the ‘Honored Eld.’ This one, however, was almost unheard of. Those that knew him only knew him by name through correspondence. They never knew his age. He painstakingly maintained all the secrecy for good reason.

Voar enjoyed seeing him relax in his favorite chair. She had made it herself with the hardened wood of the hirog tree. But her enjoyment was short-lived as she could feel a strong sense of concern emanating from the aging Hirogen. “Darqaron, what is it?”

Darqaron placed his walking stick to the side leaning up against the wall. “Do you recall, a few months back, I mentioned receiving word of a strange ship passing into Hirogen space?”

Voar nodded. “Yes. I remember. Captain Janway, of the Confeder…”

“Janeway. Of the Federation.”

Voar accepted the correction. “Of course. What of it?” She was wondering more and more why this could not wait until she finished cleaning her new trophy.

“That ship is called the Voyager. It was captured by Hirogen hunters?”

“Hunter…s? Plural?”

“We hunt in packs if the prey is another ship or if the prey is another crew.”

“Who do we send a congratulatory note to?” she said with a fiendish smile.

Darqaron did not answer. He did continue however. “The Hirogen hunters subjugated the crew to various computer simulations to carry out their hunts. Without killing the crew, the prey were cared for and repaired to be the prey once again.”

“There is no trophy in that. Not very impressive if you ask me.”

“I did not ask you,” Darqaron said. “Now listen. That is what you have always said you are good at.”

Voar grumbled under her breath a little but remained silent as Darqaron pressed onward. He was the only one who she would obey. She would question him oftentimes, but would always obey.

“The crew eventually overpowered the Hirogen and escaped. The Voyager is now gone. But they did not escape before the Hirogen hunters copied much of the information contained with the Voyager’s computer.”

Voar was on the edge of her seat wondering again why this was so important to tear her away from the carcass on the table.

“An old colleague of mine informed me of something I have been asking about for many years now. He thinks he came across information detailing what happened to some of your kind.”

“My kind,” Voar scoffed. “Must we revisit this discussion again? I am Hirogen. You raised me, trained me, taught me to hunt.” Voar felt the need to repeat, “I am Hirogen!”

“No other Hirogen will see it that way. Especially since you are female.”

Voar angrily stood from her chair. “And I can hunt better than many other Hirogen. Decades of practice have honed my skills to perfection. You, only you know how patient I have been. The day will come when we must reveal your work here to the other Hirogen, when I am revealed to…”

“That day is coming far sooner than you think.”

“How soon?” she asked, half reclaiming her seat.

“Tomorrow.”

And the concern Voar felt from him flourished into fruition. “Tomorrow?”

“My old colleague spoke.” Darqaron paused a brief second, “after being tortured. Some Hirogen wanted to know how I knew to ask about your kind before the Voyager ever arrived.”

“They are not ‘my kind!’ I am Hirogen.”

“The Hirogen that hunted your kind when you arrived accounted for each and every one of you. Only a few were left unaccounted for after the hunts and you have been the hunted ever since.”

“But never caught. And now I can hunt better than most Hirogen. Should they come, they will die.”

“They are coming in force Voar! About twenty Hirogen.”

“So they are unable to hunt alone now. They are cowards, unworthy prey.”

“They may be wanting to go after the Voyager, but they certainly believe I know where another of your kind is hiding.”

“Stop saying that,” she stood again and stepped away toward a window. “I renounced being El-Aurian long, long ago. Weak cowards, the lot of them. All they do is listen and run. I am good at listening. You know that.” But there was a curiosity tugging at her conscience. “What happened to them…’my kind’ as you like to say?”

“The transmission I received; I sent it on to your ship. It is simply my old friend detailing what he heard. It contains no information from the Voyager itself.”

“Just hearsay then. They are coming here to look into a mere rumor.”

“That they are.” Darqaron slowly stood from his chair. “If you leave today, right now, you can get some distance on them.”

Voar was not liking the sound of that. “You want me to run.”

“I want you to stay alive. You have many years ahead of you, many more than I have ever lived.”

“Where will I go?” Voar asked as she was looking out the window at the dark sky filled with stars, the valley before the cabin lit by two full moons. The sight was bringing her no joy. She had no intention of leaving but also no intention on disobeying Darqaron for the first time.

“To find other El-Aurians,” to which Voar scoffed, “to find the truth of what happened to the few as they were nearing the Federation homeworld.”

“Nearing,” she looked at him. “You mean to tell me they did not make it?”

“Listen to the message,” Darqaron said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “It unlocks in three days. I want you far from here. Our time together has come to an end.”

“Do not say that.” For the first time since she could remember, there came a crack in her voice with the feeling of tears close behind. “If I am leaving, you are coming with me.”

“Voar. You have been my heart for many years now. You were there during my greatest hunt. You were there during my last hunt. You have watched me grow old. I have watched you nearly stay the same age during all this time. You last memory of me must not be my death. I must stay. This old Hirogen can no longer travel.”

“My hunt then, surely…”

“I will claim it when they come.”

“You?”

The old Hirogen took on a look of insult as though she felt he was much too old, but he threw the insult away and pressed on. “I will stall them for as long as I can.”

“They will torture you,” said Voar. “Kill you even, if you do not give them what they want.”

“Then I shall die protecting what I love the most,” he said moving that hand to her face. “You may not have been born Hirogen, but you are my daughter.”

It was something the pair had repeated for many years. “I may not have been born Hirogen,” Voar started in response, “but you are my father.” She stood there a moment enjoying his massive hand cradling her head.

Voar did not bother cleaning up the dissection table much. Though her finger prints, among other signs of her presence, could easily be picked up with a scanner, she would have to go over the entire cabin, burn it down even, to hide her trace. It became clear that there was no way of keeping her presence hidden any longer. She had to leave. Voar did reclaim her tools however, and then gathered the rest of her belongings not already contained within her ship.

It was not yet an hour later that she was saying her farewells to Darqaron. She had packed her storage containers with enough provisions to last several months before a stop. She had a course plotted for this far-off Federation space. All the while, as she prepared, Voar continued wondering what this message contained. Darqaron would say no more on the subject and finally forbade her from asking once more. Of course, Voar obeyed and inquired no further.

Using what strength he had left, Darqaron helped with what he could and without his walking stick giving Voar some final good memories of him before she set off.

Piloting her ship out of the atmosphere, Voar set a course for the first stint of her journey and engaged the autopilot. Manual operation was her choice of flight, but, and for the first time in decades, Voar broke down in tears.

 

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