Twenty-Five Years 02
Jun. 7th, 2009 07:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
measured_wordsTitle: Twenty-Five Years 02 - Capture and Oath
Characters: Ayel, Nero, Narada crew: T'Lalea, H'Man
Summary: ongoing series exploring what happened to the crew of the Narada between the attack on the Kelvin and the attack on the klingon prison planet twenty-five years later.
Rating: PG-13 for blood/violence
ETA: Series Notes here
“I speak for Captain Nero.” Ayel spoke with more confidence than he felt – this was different than dealing with the Kelvin, when Narada had been at full strength, and the most powerful warship in the 24th century, let alone the 22nd. But the crew didn’t have the expertise required to put her back together quickly enough given their current resources and situation, even if half hadn’t been injured in the collision. The ship’s nanite-based auto-repair system was fairly efficient, but there was a lot of damage. “Our vessel has been damaged in battle with Federation forces, and we request assistance under the terms of the –” he glanced down at the console, verifying the information that T’Lalea had dug up out of Elements knew where. “-non -aggression treaty of 2227.”
“Of course, sub-commander Ayel.” The Klingon officer grinned, showing his teeth like a thrai. “We are pleased to honour our commitment to the Romulan Star Empire. You are, however, very far from home, and I see that your warp engines have been disabled. I hope you will accept some Klingon hospitality, and allow my little fleet to escort you to an outpost where you might find the facilities you need to conduct proper repairs.”
Ayel glanced back at Nero, hiding his disgust from the oily humanoid dominating their view screen. He didn’t even look like a proper Klingon, but was small framed and flat-headed. Apparently, that was in the history T’Lalea had unearthed as well. Nero nodded once. Though he masked it well enough for their audience, Ayel could read his captain’s own revulsion in his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes plainly enough. He didn’t dare glance at their security officer – he could imagine her venom easily enough.
“Certainly, Captain Krysh. We have injured aboard as well. Perhaps your fleet might provide medical supplies or facilities to assist us in caring for them?”
“Yes, sub-commander. If you would care to beam them to the coordinates I will provide, they will be well taken care of, I assure you.” That hungry smile again. “I must say, you are looking somewhat the worse for wear yourself.”
Weak, we look weak, damn him! Ayel fought back a scowl with marginal success. Turning his back fully on the viewscreen, he this time make no attempt to hide his feelings as he looked to Nero, who merely inclined his head in acquiescence or sympathy, depending on perspective.
“Thank you, Captain. My own injuries are of no concern.” H’man had taped his ribs, set his arm in a sling, and given him another shot. T’Lalea was one of the few who had come out of the encounter with the Kelvin unharmed – an advantage of knowing how to fall, she claimed – but she had insisted that Ayel’s new responsibilities should begin now, regardless of his condition. She wasn’t wrong, but he’d have given a lot for the chance to lie down for a few hours. “I’ll forward the information to our chief medical officer.” H’Man was really their only official medical officer, but he had a few other field medics on staff. Still, the situation seemed farcical.
“Very well. Meanwhile, I will send my chief engineer over to your vessel to coordinate a…. towing effort.”
Ayel smiled. It was gratifying to know that Narada, beaten down as she was, still gave the Klingons some pause. The game they were playing now allowed the Rihannsu a modicum of control. The Klingons would let them keep up that pretence, confident that once it was dropped, the ship and her secrets would be theirs to exploit. “We shall be pleased to meet him. Narada out.”
He cut the channel, and breathed out slowly. T’Lalea spat.
“I feel violated.”
“You didn’t have to speak to them.”
“And you can be sure that’s for the best. Are you certain that drama isn’t one of the subjects sons of noble houses are made to study?”
“I wouldn’t know.” It was an old joke between them now, and Ayel just shook his head. “And stop spitting on the deck. If you spit every time we see a Klingon, we’ll drown before we even get underway.”
“If you can even call them Klingons,” she started. Nero came up behind the two, clapping them both on the shoulder before making a pointed motion toward the lift. He let Ayel lead the party to the transporter room, and herald his arrival there.
-----------------------------------
Managing the Klingons onboard required careful observation, and Ayel was certain that Chief Engineer Gonret still managed to see more than was either necessary or desirable. It ultimately wouldn’t matter, he told himself, as they likely lacked the ability to replicate the technology. This was only one among numerous aggravations. The initial towing arrangement had been hastily contrived, no doubt out of fear that the Rihannsu might have reinforcements coming. The resulting damage had mostly been to the five cruisers (due to inferior design and craftsmanship no doubt) attempting to manoeuvre the much larger vessel. They’d stopped once they’d made it further into Klingon territory and were met by a few other larger vessels. They’d made some adjustments to their tractor beams and warp-field generators.
The convoy was still progressing much more slowly, and had also diverted course to a smaller, but closer, Klingon facility. The longer the procession held together, the less courteous their hosts. Ayel could have listed several reasons for this, many of which originated in the many subspace messages, primarily Klingon and Federation, that Narada’s superior sensor array was able to intercept and decode despite various jamming attempts. A major contributing factor, however, was Nero’s continuing reticence. Even in person, Ayel continued to act as his voice, and Krysh found this especially insulting. Well, they would just have to accept the captain’s silence, along with everyone else.
They were now approaching the Klingon outpost at Narenda III, and the whole ship felt tense. Krysh’s narrow-eyes visage flickered to life on the viewscreen.
“Sub-commander Ayel. I regret to inform you that I have just been informed that the Romulan fleet disavows all knowledge of your ship, the honourless dog you call a captain, and yourself. How very unfortunate that we will no longer be able to offer the promised hospitality. Instead, it is my pleasure to seize your ship as a pirate, operating inside of our space, and place her crew under arrest.”
And now, the moment of truth. Nero’s final address to the ship echoed in his mind, and Ayel took strength from the words.
“My friends. I promised you that I would bring you vengeance for our home and lost loved-ones. But circumstances conspire to thwart us, and now – we must wait. It will be long, and difficult, but mnhei-sahe demands it. There are factors here beyond our control, but not beyond our perseverance. In twenty-five years – yes so long! – we will have our chance at the one who has caused us so much pain. I ask you to measure a mere handful of empty years against that incalculable hurt! The elements are with us. We are miners. Like the earth, we will be strong and patient. When we strike, it will be as a blade of the finest steel tempered in the fire of our great wrath. Like a S’harien of legend, we will cut with the sharpest strike at out enemies, and destroy them utterly.
“Trust in me. So that you cannot doubt my commitment, I swear, I will speak no more until the day of our revenge. For all of us, for all lost on ch’Rihan, and ch’Havran, and all the worlds of the Empire touched by this treacherous tragedy. Remember, my friends. Mnhei-sahe.”
Characters: Ayel, Nero, Narada crew: T'Lalea, H'Man
Summary: ongoing series exploring what happened to the crew of the Narada between the attack on the Kelvin and the attack on the klingon prison planet twenty-five years later.
Rating: PG-13 for blood/violence
ETA: Series Notes here
“I speak for Captain Nero.” Ayel spoke with more confidence than he felt – this was different than dealing with the Kelvin, when Narada had been at full strength, and the most powerful warship in the 24th century, let alone the 22nd. But the crew didn’t have the expertise required to put her back together quickly enough given their current resources and situation, even if half hadn’t been injured in the collision. The ship’s nanite-based auto-repair system was fairly efficient, but there was a lot of damage. “Our vessel has been damaged in battle with Federation forces, and we request assistance under the terms of the –” he glanced down at the console, verifying the information that T’Lalea had dug up out of Elements knew where. “-non -aggression treaty of 2227.”
“Of course, sub-commander Ayel.” The Klingon officer grinned, showing his teeth like a thrai. “We are pleased to honour our commitment to the Romulan Star Empire. You are, however, very far from home, and I see that your warp engines have been disabled. I hope you will accept some Klingon hospitality, and allow my little fleet to escort you to an outpost where you might find the facilities you need to conduct proper repairs.”
Ayel glanced back at Nero, hiding his disgust from the oily humanoid dominating their view screen. He didn’t even look like a proper Klingon, but was small framed and flat-headed. Apparently, that was in the history T’Lalea had unearthed as well. Nero nodded once. Though he masked it well enough for their audience, Ayel could read his captain’s own revulsion in his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes plainly enough. He didn’t dare glance at their security officer – he could imagine her venom easily enough.
“Certainly, Captain Krysh. We have injured aboard as well. Perhaps your fleet might provide medical supplies or facilities to assist us in caring for them?”
“Yes, sub-commander. If you would care to beam them to the coordinates I will provide, they will be well taken care of, I assure you.” That hungry smile again. “I must say, you are looking somewhat the worse for wear yourself.”
Weak, we look weak, damn him! Ayel fought back a scowl with marginal success. Turning his back fully on the viewscreen, he this time make no attempt to hide his feelings as he looked to Nero, who merely inclined his head in acquiescence or sympathy, depending on perspective.
“Thank you, Captain. My own injuries are of no concern.” H’man had taped his ribs, set his arm in a sling, and given him another shot. T’Lalea was one of the few who had come out of the encounter with the Kelvin unharmed – an advantage of knowing how to fall, she claimed – but she had insisted that Ayel’s new responsibilities should begin now, regardless of his condition. She wasn’t wrong, but he’d have given a lot for the chance to lie down for a few hours. “I’ll forward the information to our chief medical officer.” H’Man was really their only official medical officer, but he had a few other field medics on staff. Still, the situation seemed farcical.
“Very well. Meanwhile, I will send my chief engineer over to your vessel to coordinate a…. towing effort.”
Ayel smiled. It was gratifying to know that Narada, beaten down as she was, still gave the Klingons some pause. The game they were playing now allowed the Rihannsu a modicum of control. The Klingons would let them keep up that pretence, confident that once it was dropped, the ship and her secrets would be theirs to exploit. “We shall be pleased to meet him. Narada out.”
He cut the channel, and breathed out slowly. T’Lalea spat.
“I feel violated.”
“You didn’t have to speak to them.”
“And you can be sure that’s for the best. Are you certain that drama isn’t one of the subjects sons of noble houses are made to study?”
“I wouldn’t know.” It was an old joke between them now, and Ayel just shook his head. “And stop spitting on the deck. If you spit every time we see a Klingon, we’ll drown before we even get underway.”
“If you can even call them Klingons,” she started. Nero came up behind the two, clapping them both on the shoulder before making a pointed motion toward the lift. He let Ayel lead the party to the transporter room, and herald his arrival there.
-----------------------------------
Managing the Klingons onboard required careful observation, and Ayel was certain that Chief Engineer Gonret still managed to see more than was either necessary or desirable. It ultimately wouldn’t matter, he told himself, as they likely lacked the ability to replicate the technology. This was only one among numerous aggravations. The initial towing arrangement had been hastily contrived, no doubt out of fear that the Rihannsu might have reinforcements coming. The resulting damage had mostly been to the five cruisers (due to inferior design and craftsmanship no doubt) attempting to manoeuvre the much larger vessel. They’d stopped once they’d made it further into Klingon territory and were met by a few other larger vessels. They’d made some adjustments to their tractor beams and warp-field generators.
The convoy was still progressing much more slowly, and had also diverted course to a smaller, but closer, Klingon facility. The longer the procession held together, the less courteous their hosts. Ayel could have listed several reasons for this, many of which originated in the many subspace messages, primarily Klingon and Federation, that Narada’s superior sensor array was able to intercept and decode despite various jamming attempts. A major contributing factor, however, was Nero’s continuing reticence. Even in person, Ayel continued to act as his voice, and Krysh found this especially insulting. Well, they would just have to accept the captain’s silence, along with everyone else.
They were now approaching the Klingon outpost at Narenda III, and the whole ship felt tense. Krysh’s narrow-eyes visage flickered to life on the viewscreen.
“Sub-commander Ayel. I regret to inform you that I have just been informed that the Romulan fleet disavows all knowledge of your ship, the honourless dog you call a captain, and yourself. How very unfortunate that we will no longer be able to offer the promised hospitality. Instead, it is my pleasure to seize your ship as a pirate, operating inside of our space, and place her crew under arrest.”
And now, the moment of truth. Nero’s final address to the ship echoed in his mind, and Ayel took strength from the words.
“My friends. I promised you that I would bring you vengeance for our home and lost loved-ones. But circumstances conspire to thwart us, and now – we must wait. It will be long, and difficult, but mnhei-sahe demands it. There are factors here beyond our control, but not beyond our perseverance. In twenty-five years – yes so long! – we will have our chance at the one who has caused us so much pain. I ask you to measure a mere handful of empty years against that incalculable hurt! The elements are with us. We are miners. Like the earth, we will be strong and patient. When we strike, it will be as a blade of the finest steel tempered in the fire of our great wrath. Like a S’harien of legend, we will cut with the sharpest strike at out enemies, and destroy them utterly.
“Trust in me. So that you cannot doubt my commitment, I swear, I will speak no more until the day of our revenge. For all of us, for all lost on ch’Rihan, and ch’Havran, and all the worlds of the Empire touched by this treacherous tragedy. Remember, my friends. Mnhei-sahe.”
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no subject
Date: 2009-06-07 10:20 pm (UTC)I like the way you are developing Ayel here - and seeing the Klingons through the eyes of the Romulans.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-07 10:22 pm (UTC)I have the next section mostly written, and if I'm lucky I'll be able to type it up by the end of the week.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-08 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-08 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-09 02:28 pm (UTC)