Interlude – Borg & Belligerance, Part 4
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Post Details
ON:
OLD:
"Well that's just dandy." Tharek said. He sucked in a deep breath, and charged at the door with all his might. He counted down the time he should have to live in his head.
3
As a motivator, imminent dematerialisation was very effective. Yolanthe focused sharply, timed her own charge to match his and together they hurled themselves against the door.
2
"Of for the love of... " Tharek said as their attempt failed once more. "Fuck this!" He said, taking a larger run up this time. He charged at the door with his full pace. Leaping into the air, he extended his leg out, and made his foot slam into the door.
1
NEW:
The door buckled suddenly, and splintered outwards, sending them sprawling into the corridor in a tumbled heap of limbs. Tharek hit the ground hard enough to knock half the breath from him. Half a heartbeat later, Yolanthe landed on top of him, and knocked the rest of the air from his lungs.
Inside the chamber they had left, the padd, medkit and tricorder started to glow in a halo of green light. The halo grew in intensity, until the outline of the devices could barely be seen, and then they collapsed into a billion motes of light, faded, and disappeared.
Tharek just lay there for a few seconds, regaining his breath. He only noticed that Yolanthe was still on top of him after a minute or so. "If you wanted to get on top of me all you had to do was ask." Tharek said, laughing a little.
She gave a rich, suggestive, chuckle, her body turning a pale cherry. "Unfortunately Ambassador, tonight you ordered Borg, not Bokkai," She got to her feet and offered him her hand. "Therefore I must stand aside and make way for the other woman." The sound of drones approaching began to filter into the corridor. "And I think she's about to demand your undivided attention."
Tharek gently shoved her aside and stood. "So she is... " He said, listening to the oncoming horde of metal and flesh.
The end of the corridor opened up onto another gallery that in turn opened up onto a huge empty space at the heart of the cube. Borg were approaching, but not in sight yet. "I'd better go get that shuttle." she muttered, and ran for the end of the end of the corridor. Drones were approaching from both sides. Right or left there would be a serious fight to get through. But there was a smarter way, at least for now. She climbed up on to the gallery rail, and looked back to the ambassador. "Remember, no dying!"
Then she leapt for the tangled mass of pipes and conduits hanging from the level above, and began to climb. The first drones to arrive ignored her, and turned into the corridor to face Tharek with one purpose. Assimilate him.
Tharek once again lifted his blade from its holster. He spread his arms, one hand closed into a fist, and the other closed tightly around the typically Cardassian blade. The gesture was a sign for the Borg. It wasn't just cockiness, or to fuel his ego. Tharek wanted to embrace death, to stare it in the face and plunge a dagger into it's black heart.
The drones advanced, slow and inevitable. The first two reached striking range and went for him without breaking stride. One swung for his side, the other stabbing down from over head, its augmented arm tipped with a jagged vibrating blade that would go the bones of his skull like a phaser through butter.
Tharek quickly jilted to the side, narrowly avoiding both drones. He quickly turned the blade upside down, and lunged it into the eye of the first drone. A thick sludge protruded from the sides of the blade. Tharek then brought his elbow to contact with the second drones face, knocking it's nose a little further back into it's skull.
As quickly as they fell, they were replaced. The next drone grabbed onto Tharek's collar and hurled him a half dozen strides up the corridor, where they could surround him on all sides. As one they swept forward, slashing, sweeping, cutting.
"Do I get no peace on this floating piece of crap?" Tharek said, referring to the station. He charged forward with all his pace, and barged into the metallic stomach of a drone. The idea of his move was not to damage the Borg, but to get them out the way, and on a clear path for the Queen.
The drone collapsed under the onslaught, opening a gap in the ring that surrounded him. Those drones behind pressed forward, jabbing for his back. Ahead, the end of the gallery was tantalisingly free of drones.
"Ugh, thank you!" He shouted, as he quickly leapt up and ran for the gap. There was nothing to stop him now. Nobody. Tharek was in control.
-----
It didn't take Yolanthe long to clamber the five stories between where she left Getal, and where she thought the shuttle craft was parked. She hopped over the railing and surveyed the surrounds. Sure enough, not 500 meters away, the little runabout sat serenely on a landing pad, with drones swarming around it.
-----
After several minutes of running, he finally came across what he was looking for. It was a massive chamber, full of pipes, drones and an eerie green mist.
The occasional drone moved inside the mist, but far more were waiting at its edges, row upon row, inert in their alcoves, silent, living dead guardians. At the very centre was a single alcove. It contained the body - just the body - of a female. It was thin, not emaciated, but seemed to lack something substantial, some animating spark. It was also missing everything above the insubstantial décolleté, no shoulders, no throat, no head.
All that stood between the body and Tharek, was mist.
This is too easy. Tharek thought. He glared around the room, looking for anything that would give them an advantage, or if there was an ambush in waiting. Nothing. Either the Borg were stupid, or they were deviously crafty. Tharek took several steps forward, still nothing. He readied his blade, and slowly crept to the Queen, his back arched and ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.
And yet still nothing happened beyond the swirling of mist around his thighs, and the quiet gurgling of the Cube's organic parts. The queen's body stood with unnatural stillness all the while, until he was close enough to see into the empty scoop on her torso that should have contained her head and shoulders, but instead showed him nothing more than ports and connectors and claws and the deep hole where the spine should be.
"Hey, skinny!" Tharek called out to her. "Wake up and smell the mist!" He said. Something didn't feel right about this...
Tharek then clicked. Like a bomb going off in his head. The colourless, metallic face of the Queen was replaced, by the light green features of Isha t'Khellian. Tharek snapped. Every bone in his body now had one purpose. To make that face twist and turn in agony. To forcefully show the features of pain upon her face.
In that moment the queen moved, not come alive, just moved. A pale hand, encased in a metallic exoskeleton shot out, and grabbed him round the throat. The grip was machine tight, no quiver no shake of a living hand. And then it discharged a hundred thousand debilitating volts into his nervous system.
From all around, a soft feminine voice, told him, "Did you truly think you could come into the seat of our power, and just expect to do as you wish without consequence?"
Tharek could hear the voice, but couldn't see anything. The shock had taken Tharek by surprise, and made him weak... Momentarily. "In all honesty? Yes... I did."
Drones all around became active, moving with purpose towards them. The headless queen burnt another wave of electric agony into his body. "Arrogant. Small words from a small being, trying to attack what it doesn't understand." A dozen cold hands seized him. "You will be assimilated." As the drones lifted him, the queen's head descended to attach itself to her body. She smiled beatifically down at him, and stroked his face with a clammy, grave-soft hand.
Before his eyes, it was Isha's face, and Isha's voice, Isha's hand that touched him. "Soon you will serve us."
Wrong choice of words
Tharek began his merciless assault. Before seconds had passed, Tharek had lopped the arm off of the nearest drone. The drone slumped backwards and fell into stillness. Tharek pushed the remaining Borg back with his free hand. "Small being?!" He said as he sucked in a breath. He bellowed his next words around the room, echoing. It filled ever corner with his voice.
"I am Cardassian!"
TBC...
A JP between
Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner & Bartender, the Box of Delights
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Post Details
| Title | Borg & Belligerance, Part 4 | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal | |
| Posted | Fri Jun 04, 2010 @ 10:57pm | |
| Location | The Box of Delights | |
| Timeline | Sd18 |
OLD:
"Well that's just dandy." Tharek said. He sucked in a deep breath, and charged at the door with all his might. He counted down the time he should have to live in his head.
3
As a motivator, imminent dematerialisation was very effective. Yolanthe focused sharply, timed her own charge to match his and together they hurled themselves against the door.
2
"Of for the love of... " Tharek said as their attempt failed once more. "Fuck this!" He said, taking a larger run up this time. He charged at the door with his full pace. Leaping into the air, he extended his leg out, and made his foot slam into the door.
1
NEW:
The door buckled suddenly, and splintered outwards, sending them sprawling into the corridor in a tumbled heap of limbs. Tharek hit the ground hard enough to knock half the breath from him. Half a heartbeat later, Yolanthe landed on top of him, and knocked the rest of the air from his lungs.
Inside the chamber they had left, the padd, medkit and tricorder started to glow in a halo of green light. The halo grew in intensity, until the outline of the devices could barely be seen, and then they collapsed into a billion motes of light, faded, and disappeared.
Tharek just lay there for a few seconds, regaining his breath. He only noticed that Yolanthe was still on top of him after a minute or so. "If you wanted to get on top of me all you had to do was ask." Tharek said, laughing a little.
She gave a rich, suggestive, chuckle, her body turning a pale cherry. "Unfortunately Ambassador, tonight you ordered Borg, not Bokkai," She got to her feet and offered him her hand. "Therefore I must stand aside and make way for the other woman." The sound of drones approaching began to filter into the corridor. "And I think she's about to demand your undivided attention."
Tharek gently shoved her aside and stood. "So she is... " He said, listening to the oncoming horde of metal and flesh.
The end of the corridor opened up onto another gallery that in turn opened up onto a huge empty space at the heart of the cube. Borg were approaching, but not in sight yet. "I'd better go get that shuttle." she muttered, and ran for the end of the end of the corridor. Drones were approaching from both sides. Right or left there would be a serious fight to get through. But there was a smarter way, at least for now. She climbed up on to the gallery rail, and looked back to the ambassador. "Remember, no dying!"
Then she leapt for the tangled mass of pipes and conduits hanging from the level above, and began to climb. The first drones to arrive ignored her, and turned into the corridor to face Tharek with one purpose. Assimilate him.
Tharek once again lifted his blade from its holster. He spread his arms, one hand closed into a fist, and the other closed tightly around the typically Cardassian blade. The gesture was a sign for the Borg. It wasn't just cockiness, or to fuel his ego. Tharek wanted to embrace death, to stare it in the face and plunge a dagger into it's black heart.
The drones advanced, slow and inevitable. The first two reached striking range and went for him without breaking stride. One swung for his side, the other stabbing down from over head, its augmented arm tipped with a jagged vibrating blade that would go the bones of his skull like a phaser through butter.
Tharek quickly jilted to the side, narrowly avoiding both drones. He quickly turned the blade upside down, and lunged it into the eye of the first drone. A thick sludge protruded from the sides of the blade. Tharek then brought his elbow to contact with the second drones face, knocking it's nose a little further back into it's skull.
As quickly as they fell, they were replaced. The next drone grabbed onto Tharek's collar and hurled him a half dozen strides up the corridor, where they could surround him on all sides. As one they swept forward, slashing, sweeping, cutting.
"Do I get no peace on this floating piece of crap?" Tharek said, referring to the station. He charged forward with all his pace, and barged into the metallic stomach of a drone. The idea of his move was not to damage the Borg, but to get them out the way, and on a clear path for the Queen.
The drone collapsed under the onslaught, opening a gap in the ring that surrounded him. Those drones behind pressed forward, jabbing for his back. Ahead, the end of the gallery was tantalisingly free of drones.
"Ugh, thank you!" He shouted, as he quickly leapt up and ran for the gap. There was nothing to stop him now. Nobody. Tharek was in control.
-----
It didn't take Yolanthe long to clamber the five stories between where she left Getal, and where she thought the shuttle craft was parked. She hopped over the railing and surveyed the surrounds. Sure enough, not 500 meters away, the little runabout sat serenely on a landing pad, with drones swarming around it.
-----
After several minutes of running, he finally came across what he was looking for. It was a massive chamber, full of pipes, drones and an eerie green mist.
The occasional drone moved inside the mist, but far more were waiting at its edges, row upon row, inert in their alcoves, silent, living dead guardians. At the very centre was a single alcove. It contained the body - just the body - of a female. It was thin, not emaciated, but seemed to lack something substantial, some animating spark. It was also missing everything above the insubstantial décolleté, no shoulders, no throat, no head.
All that stood between the body and Tharek, was mist.
This is too easy. Tharek thought. He glared around the room, looking for anything that would give them an advantage, or if there was an ambush in waiting. Nothing. Either the Borg were stupid, or they were deviously crafty. Tharek took several steps forward, still nothing. He readied his blade, and slowly crept to the Queen, his back arched and ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.
And yet still nothing happened beyond the swirling of mist around his thighs, and the quiet gurgling of the Cube's organic parts. The queen's body stood with unnatural stillness all the while, until he was close enough to see into the empty scoop on her torso that should have contained her head and shoulders, but instead showed him nothing more than ports and connectors and claws and the deep hole where the spine should be.
"Hey, skinny!" Tharek called out to her. "Wake up and smell the mist!" He said. Something didn't feel right about this...
Tharek then clicked. Like a bomb going off in his head. The colourless, metallic face of the Queen was replaced, by the light green features of Isha t'Khellian. Tharek snapped. Every bone in his body now had one purpose. To make that face twist and turn in agony. To forcefully show the features of pain upon her face.
In that moment the queen moved, not come alive, just moved. A pale hand, encased in a metallic exoskeleton shot out, and grabbed him round the throat. The grip was machine tight, no quiver no shake of a living hand. And then it discharged a hundred thousand debilitating volts into his nervous system.
From all around, a soft feminine voice, told him, "Did you truly think you could come into the seat of our power, and just expect to do as you wish without consequence?"
Tharek could hear the voice, but couldn't see anything. The shock had taken Tharek by surprise, and made him weak... Momentarily. "In all honesty? Yes... I did."
Drones all around became active, moving with purpose towards them. The headless queen burnt another wave of electric agony into his body. "Arrogant. Small words from a small being, trying to attack what it doesn't understand." A dozen cold hands seized him. "You will be assimilated." As the drones lifted him, the queen's head descended to attach itself to her body. She smiled beatifically down at him, and stroked his face with a clammy, grave-soft hand.
Before his eyes, it was Isha's face, and Isha's voice, Isha's hand that touched him. "Soon you will serve us."
Wrong choice of words
Tharek began his merciless assault. Before seconds had passed, Tharek had lopped the arm off of the nearest drone. The drone slumped backwards and fell into stillness. Tharek pushed the remaining Borg back with his free hand. "Small being?!" He said as he sucked in a breath. He bellowed his next words around the room, echoing. It filled ever corner with his voice.
"I am Cardassian!"
TBC...
A JP between
Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner & Bartender, the Box of Delights
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal