Interlude – Borg & Belligerence, Part 1
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Post Details
ON:
It was bad luck and worse timing that made Pelin look up just as the Cardassian Ambassador was striding towards the bar, and make eye contact. The young bajoran hastily dropped his gaze and retreated back to further along the bar to where Yolanthe was restocking the display on the high shelves. Taller than most people in the bar, it was hardly a stretch for her. He put a hand on the small of her back and reached up to whisper in her ear. "Boss, the Cardassian Ambassador is here again, and he looks pissed. Can you deal?"
"Sure," Yolanthe handed him the case of wines, "Finish putting these up for me." Then she turned towards the Ambassador, stepping up to the counter as he approached. "My favourite customer," she greeted him, her skin taking on tinges of pink. "What can I get you tonight?"
Tharek slammed his arm down onto the bar. "Kanar, just the bottle." He said in a huff.
She let the little temper-tantrum pass without comment. "Between bombs and bar riots, I'm out of the good stuff." She put the drinks menu in front of him. "so you have a choice of the second-class labels, or something else entirely."
"Gimme whatever'll get me drunk quick." Tharek said, passing her a sharp look.
She started assembling bottles on the bar and pouring their contents into a shaker. "Why the rush to oblivion, your Excellency?"
Tharek looked her dead in the eye. He didn't want to let off any hints about Isha. "No comment." He stated bluntly.
"I see." She finished pouring, capped the shaker and gave it a vigorous rattle. "Diplomatic daring-do? If you tell me you have to kill me? That sort of thing?"
"Why not." He said, looking up the steps at the various people coming in and out of the holosuites. "Yolanthe," He started. "Got any combat training programs?"
The Bokkai scratched her head, thinking. "Couple of hundred, I think. Different settings, different histories. Everything from a dozen ancient histories to modern self defence. Terran, Andorian, Klingon, Vulcan. Battle of Thermopylae, the courtship of Kahless and Lukara, The Awakening Rebellions, San Francisco raid of '75..." She poured out the drink. "Anything taking your interest?"
"Got anything that involves amazingly difficult raging hordes?" He asked calmly. "I'm itching for a brawl."
"I'm sure I've got something that can give you a good scratch." She came around from the counter and indicated the lift to the holo-spa on the second mezzanine. “Lets go take a look."
Walking into the lounge area that sat in the centre of the spa she grabbed a padd from a chair and called up the master index. "Amazingly difficult is easy. Everything's tweakable on these things. Rampaging hordes..." She thumbed her way through, looking for titles she thought he might enjoy in his current black mood.
"We have a choice." She held the padd out to him. "Battle of Thermopylae. 300 Greeks vs. Persians without number. But you can't win. The best you can do is rack up a respectable score before the sim declares you dead. For something more up to date, the SF marine corps advanced hand-to-hand training simulator - do not ask me where we got it from -" she added quickly, "Or Escape from The Cube - Where you get out of a borg assimilation machine in the nick of time, fight your way through level after level of borg drones, kill the queen and escape via shuttle craft." She looked at him to judge his reaction. "Its fictional, but the fighting part can be very realistic."
"Fuck it, lets go with the Borg. Hand-to-hand. No phaser or blunt weapons. Just raw power versus relentless machine." Tharek pronounce cockily. "I'm up for a challenge!"
Her fingers danced on the holosuite controls, and she watched as the program loaded. Then it asked for the difficulty settings. The ambassador was everything men of her own species were not; confident, proud even, and obviously capable in combat, but it was against her instincts to put him in danger of so much as a broken nail, let alone the very real beating he seemed to want to risk. "You know, I should keep these low. If you go back to your consulate covered in bruises, I just know Sotar and your glinn are going to come and make me very uncomfortable."
"They wouldn't dare. I'd have them fed to the Klingon ambassador in pieces. This is my favourite bar, after all." He said. Gently shoving her hand away with his own, he heavily pressed the controls with his index finger, setting the difficulty. He was confident he could take on an army of Borg and win, and he sure as hell felt like it.
The Cube materialised around the two, and Tharek stood with a beaming smile on his face, as he looked at the Drones around the room. He turned his head to Yolanthe, the smile still spreading. "Care to join me?"
The bokkai looked around the room; bad lighting, confined space, one exit, the menacing looking restraining tables, the cascading tangle of tubing terminating in wicked spikes, gurgling glass tubes filled with sinister sludge, and borg drones almost as big as she was filling up the rest of the free space. It certainly favoured the drones. But his smile was infectious, and a little bit of play after the opening week she'd had might be a good idea. "Only if you think you can keep up."
"On the contrary. I've had a busy day, to say the least. Let's hope you can keep up with me." He stated. Tharek then turned and ran for the nearest drone. He lunged at it with a powerful blow to the drones face. The blow shattered the Borg's nose and sent him tumbling into the nearest wall. Tharek didn't stop there though. He continued an unrelenting assault on the Borg's face, taking large shots at his biological eye, jaw and nose. The pain must've been unbearable.
The other three borg divided their forces, two turning to assist their comrade, and the last turned on Yolanthe. He made grabs at her, slow heavy things that she barely had to move to avoid, but with each clumsy swing she gave ground, stepping back each time, further and further towards the corner filled with its tangle of needle tipped tubes.
The other two lumbered towards Tharek's unguarded back, extending assimilation tubes. One closed pale clammy fingers around his collar
Tharek felt the grip on his collar, and turned quickly, slamming his elbow into the drones face. He then brought his hands together and slammed them both into the drones face, knocking out several teeth. He then grabbed the other drones assimilation tubes and ripping them out of the Borg.
The first dropped, implants sparking, collapsing on the body of the one Tharek had slammed into the wall, its ruined face twitching in its final throes. The third creature opened its mouth and closed, like a fish, a soundless wail of fury and lashed out, its augmented arm whirring as the servomotors added power to the blow.
Tharek keeled over to the blow, spitting out a thick slug of blood. It was now apparent that the safety protocols were offline. Fuck it Tharek thought. He didn't want the to be on, nor did he care. He was more concerned with the dishing out of pain to any drone that was in proximity to him.
Seeing the cardassian go down, Yolanthe stopped playing with the lumbering drone approaching her, slipped under its swinging arm, snatched up the needle-tubes, and rammed them into the gap between the drones’ neck and its armour. The sinister sludge gurgled, and the drone jerked stiffly as its system was filled with an overdose of nanoprobes trying to assimilate the assimilated. "Computer end program," She leapt up on to a restraining table, and then to the back of the last drone, which had neither frozen nor ceased its assault on the ambassador. "End Program!"
The drone staggered back from Tharek as her weight fell on it, then it accelerated backwards, slamming her against edge of the tables.
Tharek put the pain to the back of his mind, and made a point to help Yolanthe now. He lunged for the drones back, turning it around and slamming down on its nose with as much force as he could give off. "You alright?"
"Had worse," She rubbed the bottom of her spine where she had been slammed down. "I'll be fine." She examined him in turn. Apart from the split lip, he seemed alright. She faded between green and blue and back to green, "I left the safety on. That shouldn't have happened." She looked round the lab, "computer, arch." The computer failed to comply.
tbc...
OFF
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Cardassian Dictator
and
Yolanthe Ibalin,
Owner & Bartender, the Box of Delights
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Post Details
| Title | Borg & Belligerence, Part 1 | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal | |
| Posted | Fri May 21, 2010 @ 10:03pm | |
| Location | the Box of Delights | |
| Timeline | SD18 0200 |
It was bad luck and worse timing that made Pelin look up just as the Cardassian Ambassador was striding towards the bar, and make eye contact. The young bajoran hastily dropped his gaze and retreated back to further along the bar to where Yolanthe was restocking the display on the high shelves. Taller than most people in the bar, it was hardly a stretch for her. He put a hand on the small of her back and reached up to whisper in her ear. "Boss, the Cardassian Ambassador is here again, and he looks pissed. Can you deal?"
"Sure," Yolanthe handed him the case of wines, "Finish putting these up for me." Then she turned towards the Ambassador, stepping up to the counter as he approached. "My favourite customer," she greeted him, her skin taking on tinges of pink. "What can I get you tonight?"
Tharek slammed his arm down onto the bar. "Kanar, just the bottle." He said in a huff.
She let the little temper-tantrum pass without comment. "Between bombs and bar riots, I'm out of the good stuff." She put the drinks menu in front of him. "so you have a choice of the second-class labels, or something else entirely."
"Gimme whatever'll get me drunk quick." Tharek said, passing her a sharp look.
She started assembling bottles on the bar and pouring their contents into a shaker. "Why the rush to oblivion, your Excellency?"
Tharek looked her dead in the eye. He didn't want to let off any hints about Isha. "No comment." He stated bluntly.
"I see." She finished pouring, capped the shaker and gave it a vigorous rattle. "Diplomatic daring-do? If you tell me you have to kill me? That sort of thing?"
"Why not." He said, looking up the steps at the various people coming in and out of the holosuites. "Yolanthe," He started. "Got any combat training programs?"
The Bokkai scratched her head, thinking. "Couple of hundred, I think. Different settings, different histories. Everything from a dozen ancient histories to modern self defence. Terran, Andorian, Klingon, Vulcan. Battle of Thermopylae, the courtship of Kahless and Lukara, The Awakening Rebellions, San Francisco raid of '75..." She poured out the drink. "Anything taking your interest?"
"Got anything that involves amazingly difficult raging hordes?" He asked calmly. "I'm itching for a brawl."
"I'm sure I've got something that can give you a good scratch." She came around from the counter and indicated the lift to the holo-spa on the second mezzanine. “Lets go take a look."
Walking into the lounge area that sat in the centre of the spa she grabbed a padd from a chair and called up the master index. "Amazingly difficult is easy. Everything's tweakable on these things. Rampaging hordes..." She thumbed her way through, looking for titles she thought he might enjoy in his current black mood.
"We have a choice." She held the padd out to him. "Battle of Thermopylae. 300 Greeks vs. Persians without number. But you can't win. The best you can do is rack up a respectable score before the sim declares you dead. For something more up to date, the SF marine corps advanced hand-to-hand training simulator - do not ask me where we got it from -" she added quickly, "Or Escape from The Cube - Where you get out of a borg assimilation machine in the nick of time, fight your way through level after level of borg drones, kill the queen and escape via shuttle craft." She looked at him to judge his reaction. "Its fictional, but the fighting part can be very realistic."
"Fuck it, lets go with the Borg. Hand-to-hand. No phaser or blunt weapons. Just raw power versus relentless machine." Tharek pronounce cockily. "I'm up for a challenge!"
Her fingers danced on the holosuite controls, and she watched as the program loaded. Then it asked for the difficulty settings. The ambassador was everything men of her own species were not; confident, proud even, and obviously capable in combat, but it was against her instincts to put him in danger of so much as a broken nail, let alone the very real beating he seemed to want to risk. "You know, I should keep these low. If you go back to your consulate covered in bruises, I just know Sotar and your glinn are going to come and make me very uncomfortable."
"They wouldn't dare. I'd have them fed to the Klingon ambassador in pieces. This is my favourite bar, after all." He said. Gently shoving her hand away with his own, he heavily pressed the controls with his index finger, setting the difficulty. He was confident he could take on an army of Borg and win, and he sure as hell felt like it.
The Cube materialised around the two, and Tharek stood with a beaming smile on his face, as he looked at the Drones around the room. He turned his head to Yolanthe, the smile still spreading. "Care to join me?"
The bokkai looked around the room; bad lighting, confined space, one exit, the menacing looking restraining tables, the cascading tangle of tubing terminating in wicked spikes, gurgling glass tubes filled with sinister sludge, and borg drones almost as big as she was filling up the rest of the free space. It certainly favoured the drones. But his smile was infectious, and a little bit of play after the opening week she'd had might be a good idea. "Only if you think you can keep up."
"On the contrary. I've had a busy day, to say the least. Let's hope you can keep up with me." He stated. Tharek then turned and ran for the nearest drone. He lunged at it with a powerful blow to the drones face. The blow shattered the Borg's nose and sent him tumbling into the nearest wall. Tharek didn't stop there though. He continued an unrelenting assault on the Borg's face, taking large shots at his biological eye, jaw and nose. The pain must've been unbearable.
The other three borg divided their forces, two turning to assist their comrade, and the last turned on Yolanthe. He made grabs at her, slow heavy things that she barely had to move to avoid, but with each clumsy swing she gave ground, stepping back each time, further and further towards the corner filled with its tangle of needle tipped tubes.
The other two lumbered towards Tharek's unguarded back, extending assimilation tubes. One closed pale clammy fingers around his collar
Tharek felt the grip on his collar, and turned quickly, slamming his elbow into the drones face. He then brought his hands together and slammed them both into the drones face, knocking out several teeth. He then grabbed the other drones assimilation tubes and ripping them out of the Borg.
The first dropped, implants sparking, collapsing on the body of the one Tharek had slammed into the wall, its ruined face twitching in its final throes. The third creature opened its mouth and closed, like a fish, a soundless wail of fury and lashed out, its augmented arm whirring as the servomotors added power to the blow.
Tharek keeled over to the blow, spitting out a thick slug of blood. It was now apparent that the safety protocols were offline. Fuck it Tharek thought. He didn't want the to be on, nor did he care. He was more concerned with the dishing out of pain to any drone that was in proximity to him.
Seeing the cardassian go down, Yolanthe stopped playing with the lumbering drone approaching her, slipped under its swinging arm, snatched up the needle-tubes, and rammed them into the gap between the drones’ neck and its armour. The sinister sludge gurgled, and the drone jerked stiffly as its system was filled with an overdose of nanoprobes trying to assimilate the assimilated. "Computer end program," She leapt up on to a restraining table, and then to the back of the last drone, which had neither frozen nor ceased its assault on the ambassador. "End Program!"
The drone staggered back from Tharek as her weight fell on it, then it accelerated backwards, slamming her against edge of the tables.
Tharek put the pain to the back of his mind, and made a point to help Yolanthe now. He lunged for the drones back, turning it around and slamming down on its nose with as much force as he could give off. "You alright?"
"Had worse," She rubbed the bottom of her spine where she had been slammed down. "I'll be fine." She examined him in turn. Apart from the split lip, he seemed alright. She faded between green and blue and back to green, "I left the safety on. That shouldn't have happened." She looked round the lab, "computer, arch." The computer failed to comply.
tbc...
OFF
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Cardassian Dictator
and
Yolanthe Ibalin,
Owner & Bartender, the Box of Delights