Predators Part 3

Posted on Fri Jan 10th, 2025 @ 8:15pm by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Lieutenant Commander Rhiana t'Aegis & Crewman Thyra Kevensdotter

4,935 words; about a 25 minute read

Mission: Mission 1: A Long Hard Road Ahead
Location: Main Security Centre, DS18
Timeline: 0900 hours - 7 October, 2396

[ON]

The huge main security centre aboard DS18 should have been bustling with activity of dozens, if not hundreds, of security officers all going about their duties. Instead, if was almost empty. Most of the offices were closed, the majority of the duty stations were not even powered on. A handful of officers were here on office duty.

What little other security personnel there was, was out patrolling the promenade and docking areas or guarding other sensitive areas of the station.

Rhiana had managed to broker an agreement with some of the captains of the military vessels that were as stranded as the Firebird: they would support the severely short-staffed station's crew with members of their own crews to make their temporary "home" a safer place for all involved. Despite that, the security department - as all the other departments - was still severely understaffed.

Making up sensible duty rosters was a puzzle that required too much time and, unfortunately, too much diplomacy. While the captains saw the benefits of lending a hand, not all of their staff were as forthcoming and certain patrol pairings were simply out of the question.

Rhiana was standing in front of a big display in the station's chief of security's office - her office, for the time being. It was a large, enclosed space directly off of the main open space of the security centre with a pair of wide double doors leading into it. The lower half of the walls was solid, but the upper half was transparent, allowing Rhiana to see what was going on outside. But the walls could also serve as a display, either while remaining transparent or by being temporarily made opaque for more privacy. There was also a large desk with a comfortable chair in the office as well as visitor chairs and a small sitting area. The space was perfectly tidy, without any personal touches, and there was only one PADD on the desk next to the built-in workstation.

"I know you were only scheduled to start your shift in three hours, Crewman," Rhiana said and turned away from the complicated-looking duty roster on the display to look at Thyra. The display next to it showed a floorplan of a part of the station with some brightly illuminated dots in certain areas. "But there was a conflict between Ensign Haan and luqara' bekk. You will replace Ensign Haan for the remainder of this shift."

Thyra stifled a yawn. She had been four hours into her usual eight-hour rest cycle when the alert had come but the coffee that she had drunk was bringing her a heightened state of readiness. "It is of little concern Commander," she dissimulated, "I am at your command."

"But I am unfamiliar with Ensign Haan," Thyra continued, "or what their duties might have been." In truth, the duties of an Ensign tended to be simple and easily performed by anyone. The saying round the lower decks was that the difference between an Ensign and a Crewman was that the Crewman had been promoted twice. "What would you have me do?"

"Ensign Haan and luqara' bekk were on patrol duty on the promenade," Rhiana explained. "Both have only very recently been temporarily re-assigned from their respective vessels to complement the station's security staff. They were on duty together but proved incompatible. I need you to replace Ensign Haan for the remainder of the shift. luqara' bekk is waiting for you in the security station on the promenade. Any questions?"

"No, sir," Thyra replied, "I shall meet with luqara' bekk as directed." She actually had many questions starting with why were they patrolling a public promenade on a station that was mostly devoid of any civilian population. But she had come to learn that the Chief of Security inviting queries was a notice of dismissal rather than an honest desire to impart additional knowledge. She had the annoying Vulcan arrogance to believe that she had already given all the information that was needed and additional questions only highlighted the other's ignorance and incompetence. Vulcans could be so patronizing.

Thyra departed the security center and ensured that she was well away before asking the computer, through her PADD, to direct her to the promenade's security station. Fortunately, there were only two so she made her way towards the nearest one which happened also to be the largest.

Although the Lieutenant Commander had not specified, Thyra deduced that her companion for the mission was a Klingon. The name luqara' was uncommon but the suffice bekk indicated a junior crewmember aboard a Klingon ship. She idly wondered what "incompatibility" had necessitated the Ensign's departure. Likely the junior officer had little experience in dealing with Klingons and had underestimated them or done something to offend their silly honor. She was determined not to make the same mistake.

The promenade was a beehive of activity, a mixture of civilian and Federation personnel, with people going about their business. Most of the retail spaces were merely extensions of shipboard services but a few of the more enterprising merchant captains were stranded awaiting the reopening of the wormhole. It was likely only a matter of time before the Ferengi established deep roots in DS 18.

Thyra arrived at the security center to find a Klingon warrior seated in front of the main desk with his feet propped up on the tabletop, to the clear distress of the female security officer manning the station. The woman flashed a hopeful look as the Klingon looked over his shoulder at Thyra.

"Wonderful," the Klingon exclaimed without rising from his chair, "Another Federation pet'aQ whose nose I must wipe."

Thyra estimated that the Klingon was around her own age and as arrogant as one would expect of the breed. But his dismal of her would be his undoing. Thyra stepped up behind him. Hooking her foot around the single spindle that secured the chair to its base she pulled hard, yanking the chair out from underneath her adversary.

luqara' gave a sudden yelp as he fell heavily to the deck and the woman behind the desk stood in surprise.

To his credit, luqara' immediately sprang to his feet with his d'k tahg in hand. "How dare you!" he shouted, "Do you have any idea who I am?"

Thyra refused to be intimidated and stood before the Klingon with her arms crossed. "No," she replied flatty, "and Thyra Kevensdotter of House Rasmehlier couldn't care less who you are the son of."

Her name-dropping had the desired effect. luqara''s eyes widened and his guard dropped ever so slightly. House Rasmehlier may have lost some prestige over the past couple of decades under her step-mother's benign neglect but it was still a powerful member of the High Council. Any Klingon incurred the ire of her House at their peril.

"You are of House Rasmehlier?" luqara' inquired.

"Indeed,"

luqara' was clearly conflicted over the personal affront to his honor and the potential for pissing off someone powerful. After a moment he sheathed his knife and said, "Then I, luqara', son of Drag'oth, House of Gornerk am proud to serve along your side."

Thyra was inwardly relieved. She could probably had beaten luqara' in a fight but did not relish having to explain to Lieutenant Commander t'Aegis why she had kicked the spemalot piss out of the person she was supposed to have been patrolling with. "I pay homage to your House and ancestors," she answered formally with a slight bow. The honorific had a mollifying on the Klingon warrior.

"Shall we proceed with our patrol?" he inquired.

"I would be honored if you would take the lead," Thyra replied. In truth, she didn't trust having luqara' guarding her back. Despite his submission before the threat of House Rasmehlier, she couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't try to knife her in the back.

luqara' preened at the apparent honor that Thyra was showing him and he led the way out of the security center. Thyra followed him.

As they walked, luqara' resumed his arrogant swagger causing the people along the promenade to give him a wide berth which only strengthened the Klingon's arrogance. Thyra gave a slight shake of her head. It was all so predictable.

Almost an hour later, Thyra observed a maintenance hatch that was improperly secured. It should have been closed flush against the seals but she perceived a slight gap. She stopped to examine the doorway more closely and discovered that the control panel was loosened from the bulkhead.

"Daughter of Kevin," luqara' asked impatiently, "Why are you wasting time when we should be seeking out miscreants? We are Warriors not technicians."

"We are patrolling to find anything out of the ordinary," Thyra countered, "and this seems out of the ordinary." Or would on a better maintained station. Her instincts, however, told her not to let this go.

She had seen Star Fleet operations personnel review maintenance records and other data to determine system faults but she had no idea how to do so herself and refused to admit so to luqara'. Instead, she activated her commbadge. "Mister Computer," she intoned, "What is the status of DS 18 Promenade maintenance hatch 14B?"

=/\= "Maintenance hatch 14B is listed as partially operational" =/\=

"And when was the hatch last inspected?" Thyra asked.

=/\= "On Stardate 71792" =/\= About a month ago.

"What faults are listed for deferred maintenance?" she continued.

=/\= "The right side actuator is inoperative and has been disconnected" =/\= Which didn't mean much to Thyra but sounded like it had nothing to do with the control panel or why there was a gap in the door seal.

"Thank you Mister Computer." Being polite didn't cost anything.

Thyra tapped on the control panel and three off the four half doors retracted. The vertical half door on the right remainder motionless but was easily pushed into the bulkhead.

She peered down the maintenance tube. Nothing looked out of place. The damage to the hatch and control panel could have been the result of a frustrated attempt to gain access but it felt worse than that. She felt like she needed to pursue this.

"Why are you concerned about the maintenance tube?" luqara' asked, "It isn't in our patrol area. We should continue to fight crime on the promenade."

There had been no crime to speak of. Only off-duty personnel that luqara' insisted were loitering and ordered to move along. "Go back if you want," Thyra told the Klingon, "I am going to check this out." She began crawling through the tube without waiting to see if luqara' followed.

---

[Meanwhile in the security centre]

After Thyra's departure, Rhiana had returned to her other tasks. She had a never-ending list of these and whenever one was accomplished, two new ones seemed to be added to the list. Staffing issues and roster changes should have been a mostly minor routine task, but on Deep Space 18, that was not the case. Even with non-Starfleet reinforcements, they did not have enough staff to effectively patrol and guard all vulnerable areas of the station and that knowledge was a constant burden on the chief of security's mind.

Add to that unrepaired and thus possibly fatal areas of the station, the very real tensions between hostile crews that were involuntarily stranded here, a growing illegal entertainment area in the bowels of the unfinished station, and reports of strange sightings and almost-sightings of shadows and similar appearances that had been growing in number recently, her days were long and never boring. Furthermore, Xavi kept complaining that she treated him like a child and that he wanted to roam around freely and explore the station. Of course, that was out of the question and he hated her for it. According to one of the parenting books she had read, this was normal behaviour for a youth of his age and he would grow out of it. Another book said that his behaviour was disrespectful towards her and required punishment. She had not yet decided which suggestion was the best, but she needed to make more time for him. If only she could add a few more hours to her days...

But that was a very dangerous train of thought to get into. Especially since it would be so easy...

"Here is your tea, Commander," Petty Officer 1st Class Anneke de Vries said as she placed the cup with the steaming hot beverage on Rhiana's desk, interrupting the latter's silent ruminations. The Romulan turned around and away from the wall display she had been staring at without seeing it for the last several minutes and inclined her head slightly in the direction of the younger woman.

"Thank you, Petty Officer." Unclasping her hands from behind her back, Rhiana returned to her desk while de Vries spoke again. "You have an appointment with the captains of the SS Starseeker, SS Merchant's Glory, and SS Manistoka in half an hour. They are complaining that we unfairly target their crewmembers, several of whom have ended up in the brig over the past couple of weeks," she explained. "After that, you are meeting with the section chiefs about shift changes, then with Commander Carberos about the situation on deck 47. At 1215 hours, you will have lunch with..." Noticing Rhiana raised left eyebrow, de Vries offered an apologetic smile and stopped enumerating the too many meetings. "Sorry, Commander. I've sent you the schedule along with all necessary documents."

"Thank you, Petty Officer," Rhiana repeated, not unkindly. de Vries had a habit of talking too much, but over the past few weeks, the chief of security had learned to appreciate the help provided by her new yeoman. Anneke was a clerk, not a security officer, but what she lacked in marksmanship, she fully made up for with her clear, structured approach to anything back office related.

"Make sure to keep my evening clear and reserve a table for Xavi and me at Kalstri's new venue," the chief of security continued, deciding that she needed to spend more time with her son before their relationship deteriorated.

"Noted, Commander," de Vries acknowledged after making a note on her PADD. "Anything else?"

"No, thank you. Dismissed."

After the yeoman had left, Rhiana took a sip of her tea, a specific, if unfortunately replicated, blend from Romulus that reminded her of another life. Then she activated her workstation and pulled up the files on the three captains she would be meeting with shortly.

A few minutes passed during which Rhiana tried to concentrate on the reports before her, but failed to do so. Something was off. She could not put her finger to it, but... She looked around her empty office, then out towards the main open space. Everything seemed normal there as well.

Strange.

She looked back at the words on her screen, but some movement in the corner of her eye made her look up again.

A white-blue beam of energy.

A scream of agony.

Rhiana had jumped up from her chair to run outside when suddenly two Jem'Hadar unshrouded in her office.

One a little to her right.

The other a little to her left.

With reflexes that she had spent years and years honing in training, she managed to drop to the ground before the two white-blue beams of energy could hit her. Instead, they burned holes into the wall behind her.

Taking advantage of the meager and only very temporary cover her desk and the chairs would offer, she pulled her phaser out of her holster while crouching on the floor and quickly changed the setting to the highest.

Peering out through the chair legs, she briefly aimed at the Jem'Hadar to her right and fired on the approaching legs.

---

In the open space, four Jem'Hadar had unshrouded and were now firing upon the security officers who did their best to return fire.

Petty Officer 1st Class Anneke de Vries was crumbled over her desk, eyes open and unseeing, blood seeping out of a large chest wound.

---

Following the trail of the infiltrators had proved to be surprisingly easy. Compartment hatches had been left open and security force shields deactivated but were showing as closed and active in the station's security software. Whoever had come this way was clearly adept at masking their presence from electronic detection. It helped to narrow down the list of possible assailants but none of them were particularly pleasant.

Iaqara reluctantly followed Thyra as she crawled through the maintenance tunnel complaining the entire way. She ignored him, less concerned with his discomfort than she was at her inability to raise anyone on the station or the ship. Her comm badge seemed operational but it was unable to make a connection.

Her anxiety was growing the further that they moved through the tunnels. She wasn't afraid of a fight but the lack of information on whom she was tracking caused her to worry about their weapons and tactical as well as wonder if she were crawling into an ambush. Iaqara seemed blissfully unaware of any of that, more concerned at the various wounds to his honor that skulking about in the maintenance tunnels was inflicting.

The sound of weapons fire from up ahead actually had a calming effect on her. Now, at least, she knew an approximate location for her enemy and she crawled faster toward the battle, encouraged by a suddenly enthusiastic Iaqara.

The maintenance tunnel opened up in the holding area of the security center, a design choice that Thyra had little time to consider as she observed four Jem'Hadar warriors engaging the station's security personnel. They must have disregarded the possibility of being followed because their backs were to the maintenance hatch. Thyra had the element of surprise.

That was until Iaqara pushed past her and charged with a Klingon war cry. "No!" Thyra shouted as she fumbled for her hand phaser. Had he been more patient, she could have taken out two of the aliens but patience was a virtue that younger Klingons rarely considered.

Thyra was able to get off a shot at one of the Jem'Hadar as he turned to meet the attack from behind. It was a glancing blow as she had to avoid hitting Iaqara but staggered her target enough to allow the Klingon to draw his bat'leth. She dropped her phaser to join the fight and drew her hand axes.

The four Jem'Hadar reacted with the precision that came from long hours of training and a bond that began before birth. The one hit with the phaser staggered two steps back and then righted itself. The second faced the incoming Klingon with a flurry of blows that landed heavily. The two grappled and spun.

The other two Jem'Hadar calmly watched the young human pull her axes and then each of them fired with their hand weapons. The blue-white blasts were accurately placed. One of them clipped Thyra on the shoulder, burning away flesh. The second struck one of her axes, blasting it from her hand.

The injured Jem'Hadar yelled. "Surrender! You cannot prevail, Starfleet!"

Pain lanced out from the wound on her left shoulder, nearly causing Thyra to lose consciousness. She pushed forward, fighting against the blackness threatening to descend over her, and switched her remaining axe into her right hand.

Her studies of the material, particularly reports from Captains Sisko and Worf, from the Dominion War suggested that the Jem'Hadar were better at marksmanship than they were at hand-to-hand combat. They were raised in a matter of days and genetically programmed with combat skills.

Her people's skill with weapons, much like the Klingons', was acquired through years of conditioning and rigorous training. Here, she was going to get to test whether practical experience or genetic training was superior.

Once inside the reach of the Jem'Hadar rifles, she feinted towards one's face with her axe then reversed direction to cleave her enemy's hand from his wrist. Her opponent tried to buttstroke her with the rifle but the sudden loss of the connection to his hand on the rifle's barrel made the weapon unwieldy and sapped the blow of much of its strength.

The second Jem'Hadar tried to bring the muzzle of his weapon to bear on Thyra but her backswing knocked his aim off enough that the blast landed harmlessly into the wall.

---

Rhiana's aim was excellent, even half-lying on the floor. She hit the Jem'Hadar's leg and kept her finger on the trigger button to increase the length of the normally already lethal shot, knowing that Jem'Hadar were highly resistant to injury from phasers.

The strategy worked and a few seconds later, the Jem'Hadar disintegrated. Just in time, because the other one was suddenly there, pulling away one of the visitor's chairs with unnecessary force to clear the field and pointed his disruptor rifle at her.

"Surrender, Starfleet!" he snarled.

Time seemed to stand still for a second as Rhiana and the Jem'Hadar locked eyes with each other. He, towering over her, was clearly in a position of force. She, lying sideways on the ground, phaser still aimed at where the other Jem'Hadar had been a moment ago.

"Never," she declared and in the same breath added, "Computer, intruder alert!" At the same time, she rolled away, aware that there still was no miraculous hiding place, but anywhere was better than right in front of the Jem'Hadar's disruptor.

The lights dimmed and turned reddish all throughout the station.

---

The arrival of the two additional people on their side seemed to revive the remaining security officers. They had ducked underneath their desks or behind chairs when the Jem'Hadar had started their surprise attack and while they had managed to fire a phaser here and there, they had not been able to do much damage. Now, however, with most of the Jem'Hadar temporarily distracted, the Starfleet security officers opened fire again.

With the sudden change of the alert status, the first round was chaos, with phaser fire crossing each other and all but one shot missing their targets. The one that hit only grazed - the Klingon.

"Idiots!" one of them shouted. "Phasers to maximum. Smith, Kolzac, help the Klingon. Samheer, Tractar, take up positions there," he pointed to a spot that would bring Samheer and Tractar closer to the one Jem'Hadar who was not engaged with anyone. "Fire at that Jem'Hadar."

The officers began to move, but it was difficult. Too much was going on to get a clear shot and they risked killing two of their own.

The Jem'Hadar had no such scruples. The one without direct opponent fired shots in the direction of the Starfleet desks and yelled once more, "Surrender!"

"Attack, you fools!" Thyra encouraged as she swung her axe in a backswing, "We outnumber them!"

Iaqara was locked in a tense struggle against his opponent, his bat'leth a flurry of swings and thrusts. The two on Thyra were only marginally effective against her, one handicapped by the loss of a hand and the other switching his attention between attacking Thyra and taking shots against the security officers firing from behind their desks.

The one-handed Jem'Hedar warrior had dropped his rifle in favor of his kar'takin. Although it was designed to be used with two hands, the disabled warrior's proficiency with the weapon was remarkable. Thyra had to rely on dodging and blocking his attacks more than she would have liked. She was, however, able to take advantage of the distraction provided by the security personnel to draw one of her Odinkus daggers from her boot.

Thyra's mother had told her, when she gifted her daughter with the matched pair of daggers, that the points were sharp enough to penetrate even the exoskeleton of an Andorian. Being a dutiful child, Thyra never asked her mother how she knew this fact. She just accepted it as a truth.

With one of the Jem'Hedar distracted by phaser fire from the security personnel, Thyra pressed her attack. She blocked, feinted, and swung her axe to successfully catch the kar'takin on itself foible. She pushed the blade out of the way and thrust hard with her dagger, hitting the exposed warrior in the neck. There was a momentary resistance to the point by the scales on her opponent's throat but the force of her strike successfully penetrated the warrior's trachea. Once through, she dragged the hilt of the dagger to the left to cut the carotid artery, inflicting as much damage as she could.

The wounded Jem'Hedar was still able to breathe but was inhaling as much of his own blood as he was air. Surprised but undeterred he dropped his weapon and grabbed Thyra by the throat. She tensed her neck muscles and wryly wondered which of them would succumb to unconsciousness first.

The Jem'Hadar let out a wet cry of rage and jabbed the bleeding stump of his hand into Thyra's face, blinding her. The blood, so foreign to Thyra's body, was thick and abrasive. The enemy squeezed, forcing Thyra's throat completely closed but not crushing it. A moment before he fell unconscious, the Jem'Hadar saw the young Starfleet woman succumb herself.

---

The Jem'Hadar in Rhiana's office did not have to do much to track her with his disruptor while she was doing her best to avoid being an easy target. For a few moments, she was in constant motion, ducking and rolling, until she could reach the other side of the sofa which was currently the furthest point of relative cover. At the same time, she fired short bursts of phaser fire in the direction of the Jem'Hadar. While obviously not properly aimed, she was still good enough to graze him at least once and force him to move to avoid being hit.

The graze meant nothing to the Jem'Hadar and even with moving a little to avoid other hits, he still held a more advantageous position than the Romulan. He kept firing in her direction and managed to hit her leg just as she was diving behind the sofa.

Rhiana let out a grunt of pain, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins dulled the sensation and allowed her to concentrate on her goal. Ducking low behind the sofa's armrest and peering around its side, she fired at the Jem'Hadar again, at the same time that he was aiming at her.

The two beams of energy barely missed each other.

Rhiana hit him a half-second before his beam went through the armrest mere centimeters above her head. She ducked a little lower while maintaining her aim for a few seconds longer.

He tried to fire again or to move away, but it was already too late and he disintegrated just like his companion earlier.

---

Out in the reception area, two more of the security officers were casualties to the well-placed fire from the two Jem'Hadars who were not trying to kill the Klingon or lying dead on the floor. They fired well-aimed shots without regard for themselves, unlike the Starfleet officers who did care about their own survival.

This attitude helped and the security officers eventually managed to organise themselves enough that their defense worked. The second of the four attackers succumbed to the barrage of phaser fire and the third followed moments later, leaving only the one the Klingon was grappling with.

Thyra’s eyes fluttered open. Her shoulder hurt like she had been stabbed by Hela’s own sword and she was feeling woozy from a loss of blood, but she forced herself up from the deck to assess the scene before her. Iaqara continued to thrust, parry, and riposte against the sole remaining Jem’Hedar but she could see that he was tiring quickly. It was only a matter of time until he missed one of the warrior’s attacks.

As quickly as she could, Thyra launched herself from the deck to the back of the Jem’Hedar, wrapping her legs around his waist and placing him in a sleeper hold with her good arm. The warrior’s scaly skin resisted the pressure against his neck but his hand moved reflexively to free himself from the choke hold. Iaqara took advantage of the momentary distraction to give one final thrust with his bat’leth, uttering a low-pitch war cry as he did so.

Thyra apparently was not the only one difficult to kill. The Jem'Hadar that had gone down with her began to stir. But before any of the surviving Starfleet officers noticed the potential renewed threat, the yellow beam of a phaser hit the Jem'Hadar, finishing Thyra's work.

Standing just a few meters away, next to the reception counter where her fallen yeoman was still lying in a pool of blood that was slowly dripping down onto the floor underneath, was Rhiana, with her phaser still at aim. She looked disheveled and while she was not exactly leaning against the counter, she was favouring her right leg. A broad strip of uniform fabric was missing from the side of her left thigh and what was underneath looked... raw. Painfully raw.

Without a word, the Romulan watched as the last of the Jem'Hadar finally succumbed to the Klingon's bat'leth - something that eventually only took a few more moments. Only then did she take a few seconds to look around and take in the damage.

"Report."

[OFF]

Lieutenant Commander Rhiana t'Aegis
Second Officer / Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

Crewman Thyra Kevensdotter
Security Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

RSS Feed

Comments (2)