Mad dogs

Posted on Tue 13th Jul, 2021 @ 10:03am by Lieutenant Commander Dallas Briggs & Exo-Comp EXQT
Edited on on Tue 13th Jul, 2021 @ 10:15am

1,763 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Waging Peace
Location: Htek's Ex-IKS Vessel- SuvWi'
Timeline: MD 1, 1549

Previously... https://sb109.thetafleet.net/index.php/sim/viewpost/1758

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{Ex-IKS Vessel- SuvWi'}

They stalked prey for long hunts, as was their purpose. Cloaked with scales, this dragon of the dark had served long past its refit, far past the service window. It was a ship of creaks and moans, even more so once their Engineers had died and the little bots had left. Steam and heat were a comfort to Klingons, one of the few they indulged. For this once proud Klingon war vessel, those systems had long been ruined. Five warriors stood at their stations, and the two who sat in the middle had taken to lighting a fire, letting smoke filtration do its job.

Htek saw his breath in the rare moment of gleaming light the bridge saw every time the rear entry door cycled open. He felt ice in his beard, and it hurt to blink. In total silence he muttered to himself, for all to hear, "A warrior does not not express his discomfort... but Captains sure do."

Knowing to laugh at what was most certainly not a joke, the man shrouded in icy dark at the right of the Captain used grace to keep his captains image. He gently asked, "Would our virtue be spared for the addition of a heater my lord?"

It gave Htek the opportunity to be strong, and he took it.

"MY Virtue... was hard won. I would sooner freeze in Gre'thor's icy pits than surrender it."

"We learn by your example, though surely these conditions are perilous-"

Htek silenced him with a raised hand, "I will hear no more of this mewling. We do not waste our resources on creature comforts."

The man in shadows knew not to press the point, but Htek pressed on, quoting Kang. "A warrior must adhere to virtue honorably and Virtue is the reward... One need not enjoy virtue to receive its benefits."

Light returned to the bridge, Htek's sprawling form cast a shadow over the front half. What dim illumination landed made the young man to Htek's right visible. Where Htek was an older Klingon, scarred and mad from war, this lithe young killer bore the spots of a Trill, and a countenance able to murder at a glance. He waited for Htek to finish, respectful of the man who took him as his second officer. The crew had thought the Captain mad, and they were right, but since becoming the first officer things had steadily improved, so his presence was tolerated. Making sure there was money to pay the crew was a powerful leverage. Htek couldn't run the ship the way he should anymore but had saved their lives a dozen times over before now. A curious blend of madness and wisdom had gotten them this far, with prices on all their heads. Plus he had command codes tied to his heartbeat; mad, but very clever.

"Yes sire, I will admit, the flickering light and natural warmth is a comfort of its own. We live in your example and become stronger by your lead." With the benediction of his fealty performed, he continued, "I also wanted to ask if you had made a decision in regard to our battle plan?"

Htek had forgotten all about the plans he had made himself just hours ago, so he played it well, "Yes, a warrior prepares." Htek was silent, unsure if his answer worked. Doubling on the one thing he could remember he fell back on Kang, "Four thousand throats may be cut in one night by a running man, yes Anslo, yes."

Silence fell over the bridge as it became obvious Htek had no clue what the plan was. It was anyone's glory to be had, whoever spoke first and acted quickly. The silence was a recognition of the gravity the situation commanded. Htek blithely hummed an old war song, and Anslo locked eyes with J'alla, who had wanted to lead this operation over Anslo's dead body. Whereas Anslo had determined himself the leader, Htek had just given her ample reason to act and on this old-guard Kang-inspired vessel, any reason was good enough.

She didn't disappoint, messages left from her terminal, and Anslo saw the central computer log and process them. She was going to kill him and take his place as the leader of the raid. His spyware gave him a copy, and the names of the disloyal crew about to mutiny. Klingon computer security was formidable from the outside, but non-existent once you were inside. A conceit the strong had when the weak never fought back, it allowed Anslo to rule the ship with Htek as the sockpuppet for his ambitions. J'alla had told him this, accused him of it, and Anslo had denied it.

She was right, cunning, and a shrewd observer. It was exactly how he operated these days, and he had to keep the process going, even now. His symbiont rejected violence and was very clever in dispatching enemies without killing them. Anslo may be the living portion of the duo, but Tol brought so much knowledge to bear that the change was inexorable. It was Tol who convinced Anslo that Htek was the perfect leader of the ship, and the patience to walk those thin lines between danger and opportunity.

Anslo executed his plan in reply, a silent command sent to the bridge officers in his control and J'alla felt strong hands clamp on her armor. The ones she spoke with wisely did not react, she lost before it began. She tried to struggle, but the large warriors had a firm grasp, and her primal scream was impotent rage embodied. Her curses were formidable, but Anslo was not afraid.

She was being dragged to the front of the bridge, for Htek to view. She screamed, "I have done nothing you dishonorable P'tak! You are a fool to strike in the dark, working like a Gree worm, you Romulan! My Lord will surely see through this shallow ploy, Please Lord Htek, see that I am your right hand, I am-

"SILENCE WITCH!"

Htek stirred, moving from his seat finally. Anslo had seen the Klingon at the height of his glory, and remembered the power in his frame. There was a reason when a madman holds power usually. J'alla had offended him by suggesting he hadn't seen this ploy of hers. She dared to suggest he needed her for protection. Htek had to answer that, though he truthfully didn't want to. Madness for Klingons is not so far gone as it is for others, they live within it at all times.

J'alla fell silent, perhaps recognizing her words had come out wrong. She was as large as her captors, and had proven her worth time and again in the service of the crew. She relied on her honor in the Captain's eyes to redeem her this insult, but the bile in her throat was too bitter to handle as she also realized Anslo could influence him either way. His eyes were on her but she stared only at the Captain.

He took two thundering heel strikes and walked to her, taking her collar gently. He had half a meter on her in height, over two hundred kilos weight. His voice growled in an attempt at purring, "J'alla is it? I hate to waste a good warrior like you, remember to heed your words."

J'alla dared to feel hope and was grateful to Htek beyond measure. He performed an act of political brilliance by rounding on Anslo as well. Htek growled for a moment, gritting out, "Anslo, we face challenges head on. I should expect my Second Officer to handle his position in a Klingon way. No more cloaks and daggers yes? Warriors? Release J'alla."

Anslo knew better than to protest, Tol was wise, and cautioned him of the precarious position. Htek was wily, and now Anslo either earned his position, or someone better got the job. It was the Klingon way, and put Anslo in his place. Outplayed by a madman was never part of the larger schema.

Tof, the MP of the bridge, and Htek's bodyguard threw his mek'leth into the center of the bridge, closer to her than Anslo. Protecting Htek had made him very rich, and he was more than happy with the rewards his position brought him. He was a useful voice for the Captain as well, noticing the times Htek was not focused and pulling attention. Tol had suspected resentment when Htek chose Anslo for Second, like a dog who couldn't share its master's affections.

"J'alla, your feud with Anslo is recognized as valid. If you think you can lead, do so. Do not let these petty affairs near the Captain." Tof was nearly bigger than Htek, but lacked the savage mien. He was the kind of killer who didn't sweat as he gutted you.

Anslo felt a moment of fear watching J'alla rise, but knew Htek wanted blood sport. The problem was, he had just given her clout with the crew. This challenge had to be answered in combat, but J'alla was likely his superior if she held the Mek'leth. Unarmed, there was little chance of him losing, or so he felt at least. Tol reminded him of an early observation on board, "Klingons carry their weapons at all times, mainly for the purpose of killing one another."

Anslo had felt idly carrying weapons outside of combat only marked you as a blowhard, seeing her spiked gloves was a wakeup call. J'alla bellowed, a circle formed around them. "I challenge you for your position, as a coward and plotter of secrets, a wretched liar-"

Anslo had enough by then, and decided if the Klingons wanted this to happen, he had to be Klingon today too.

Tol had lived many lives before, most of them had only monastic training. Anslo, had served the Starfleet infantry since the Klingon broke from their treaty, since the Dominion scourge and Cardassian betrayal. J'alla had only ever jockeyed for position, played political cards and maneuvered. She fought as a pirate did, only when victory was certain. He was the right hand, the arbiter of change on board this ship and he would not be usurped. She would go for the weapon, because for her, you want to always fight with a weapon.

If he stood no chance to get it first, and stood no chance after she got it, then he needed to make his move as she went for it, and to deny it to both of them.

 

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