IKC FHew 7C6110
In the belly of the Whale – Get out and stay out.
by Sogh HoS Matlh
Post Details
HoS was jubilant. Finally Ro’ had seen sense and wanted to dispose of this ghargh (worm) once and for all.
He all but ran (running would be undignified) out of the conference room and clambered down the two sets of ladders, three rungs at a time, dropping with a metallic thud outside the doors of sick bay. He rose from his landing crouch and stood his full height to face the doors. His breath came in measured lung fulls of musty sweat-filled air. His eyes shone and his dark lengths of hair clung to his set shoulders. Targh Dub, yI Hegh! (You die, Targ arse).
HoS flicked his d'k tahg from his belt where he had stowed it before his descent and held it firmly in his right hand. He felt his grimy fingernails stab into the palm of his hand around the grip before he reached the door and wrenched it open with his left.
The filth was still lying prostrate on the sick bay bed. Not for much longer. HoS heard footsteps behind him and knew it was HIchop entering the sick bay. He could hear the medic’s breathing as he had struggled to keep up with HoS’ rapid arrival.
“Wake the ghargh up” he ordered.
Although the same rank as HoS, HIchop respected that the order came from a higher authority and he soon obliged, moving away from the “Baj-ass” as he stirred awake. Not waiting for a full recovery, HoS was over his prone body and had grabbed his clothing with his free hand, hauling him into a sitting position half off the table and pinning him awkwardly to its side.
“Filth” spat Hos as he twisted the garments tighter in his fist. The Baj-ass blinked and gulped as he struggled in HoS’ grip.
“What’s going on?” he demanded with a croak.
“How dare you bring you and your freaked up body on board this ship and put it and its crew in danger” Hos barked into the frightened man’s face. The Baj-ass strained to see over HoS’ shoulder with pleading eyes to HIchop. HIchop remained soullessly impassive.
“They should’ve left you in the hold to die, scum. So, I’m going to finish the job. On your feet.” HoS forced the trembling man onto his feet and shoved him towards the doors. He was still groggy from the anaesthetic as well as suffering some residual pain from his injuries so he lurched to the left and bounced off a chair before ending in a crumpled heap on the floor. HoS bellowed with anger and all but flew the three strides to the waste blubbering on the floor. He grabbed the pitiful man’s arm and wrenched it up. Unfortunately the mass on the other end of it did not follow suit and there was an audible cracking sound as the arm came out of its socket. The Baj-ass screamed as HoS let go. He clutched at his shoulder but his arm was now uselessly hanging by his side.
“HIchop, fix that. I can’t fight a man with only one arm. To do so would be dishonourable”.
HIchop moved as swiftly as any Klingon could to the man’s side. He told him to brace himself against the chair while he grabbed at the injured arm and twisted it back into the socket with a crunch. He screamed again but soon fell silent biting back sobs.
“Get up and walk, dross” he commanded. The Baj-ass got awkwardly to his feet and, still clutching at his arm, stumbled forward through the sick bay doors.
“Down” ordered HoS pointing to the ladder in the walkway. The man painfully managed with his good arm to descend the ladder while HoS and HIchop followed. At the bottom HoS pushed the man to the doors of the Cargo Bay before opening them and pushing him once more inside. The Baj-ass grimaced as he saw the pool of blood near one of the crates knowing it was his. He too now wished that he had not been noticed and had died beneath it. That death was surely better than what was waiting for him now.
Once inside, HoS threw him a blade similar in size to his own.
“Now, gargh, you will fight for your honour.” And he took up his fighting stance, blade drawn in front of him, the fingers of his left hand flexing.
For a few moments the only sound was the creaking of the hull of the ship, the hum of the engines and the breathing of both of the combatants now facing each other in the Hold. HIchop stood by the cargo bay doors and the control panel.
The Baj-ass stood and looked down at the blade he held in his hand. His shoulder still burned and he swayed with pain and the meds still in his system. Then he regarded the towering Klingon standing before him. His leather studded armour strained across his chest and his eyes were wild. There was no way he would win against this man and he couldn’t imagine that killing HoS would prolong his life for many more minutes. He stood briefly considering his options until his mind’s eye brought forth an image. It was the face of his wife, D’rell regarding him. Her eyes were shining bright and her mouth was curved in the sweetest of smiles. It gave him the courage to try if nothing else.
HoS was not caught unawares when the man lunged. He saw the decision to move in the man’s face and watched his body tense as he ran forward, brandishing his weapon, to meet him. HoS sighed and with a single swift movement, jabbed the blade forward. He felt resistance as the blade pierced the man’s skin between the rib bones on his right side. The Baj-ass stopped, his eyes widened and he dropped his knife. He stared up at HoS then down at the butt of the knife that was protruding from his chest. HoS, still holding the grip twisted the blade with a flick of his wrist until the man’s ribs cracked. He gasped and shuddered. HoS withdrew the blade, grabbed the falling man by the waist and nodded at HIchop. Then he strode over to the airlock doors with the Baj-ass limp on his hip.
HoS grasped a steel girder by the door and then wedged his booted foot between the plating on the floor and the wall. As HIchop activated the airlock doors and gripped the control panel, HoS hoisted the Baj-ass with a grunt out of the airlock and out into space. The man’s semi-conscious screams were cut abruptly short as the vacuum took effect. Then the doors shut and HoS prised himself out. Looking at HIchop, he cleaned his blade on his pants and re-stowed it in his belt.
“Right, I can hear the bloodwine calling me.” And they left the Hold on their way back to their posts.
by Sogh HoS Matlh
Post Details
| Title | Get out and stay out. | |
| Mission | In the belly of the Whale | |
| Author(s) | Sogh HoS Matlh | |
| Posted | Sat Apr 10, 2010 @ 2:02pm | |
| Location | Sick Bay and Hold | |
| Timeline | Immediately after Ro's conference |
He all but ran (running would be undignified) out of the conference room and clambered down the two sets of ladders, three rungs at a time, dropping with a metallic thud outside the doors of sick bay. He rose from his landing crouch and stood his full height to face the doors. His breath came in measured lung fulls of musty sweat-filled air. His eyes shone and his dark lengths of hair clung to his set shoulders. Targh Dub, yI Hegh! (You die, Targ arse).
HoS flicked his d'k tahg from his belt where he had stowed it before his descent and held it firmly in his right hand. He felt his grimy fingernails stab into the palm of his hand around the grip before he reached the door and wrenched it open with his left.
The filth was still lying prostrate on the sick bay bed. Not for much longer. HoS heard footsteps behind him and knew it was HIchop entering the sick bay. He could hear the medic’s breathing as he had struggled to keep up with HoS’ rapid arrival.
“Wake the ghargh up” he ordered.
Although the same rank as HoS, HIchop respected that the order came from a higher authority and he soon obliged, moving away from the “Baj-ass” as he stirred awake. Not waiting for a full recovery, HoS was over his prone body and had grabbed his clothing with his free hand, hauling him into a sitting position half off the table and pinning him awkwardly to its side.
“Filth” spat Hos as he twisted the garments tighter in his fist. The Baj-ass blinked and gulped as he struggled in HoS’ grip.
“What’s going on?” he demanded with a croak.
“How dare you bring you and your freaked up body on board this ship and put it and its crew in danger” Hos barked into the frightened man’s face. The Baj-ass strained to see over HoS’ shoulder with pleading eyes to HIchop. HIchop remained soullessly impassive.
“They should’ve left you in the hold to die, scum. So, I’m going to finish the job. On your feet.” HoS forced the trembling man onto his feet and shoved him towards the doors. He was still groggy from the anaesthetic as well as suffering some residual pain from his injuries so he lurched to the left and bounced off a chair before ending in a crumpled heap on the floor. HoS bellowed with anger and all but flew the three strides to the waste blubbering on the floor. He grabbed the pitiful man’s arm and wrenched it up. Unfortunately the mass on the other end of it did not follow suit and there was an audible cracking sound as the arm came out of its socket. The Baj-ass screamed as HoS let go. He clutched at his shoulder but his arm was now uselessly hanging by his side.
“HIchop, fix that. I can’t fight a man with only one arm. To do so would be dishonourable”.
HIchop moved as swiftly as any Klingon could to the man’s side. He told him to brace himself against the chair while he grabbed at the injured arm and twisted it back into the socket with a crunch. He screamed again but soon fell silent biting back sobs.
“Get up and walk, dross” he commanded. The Baj-ass got awkwardly to his feet and, still clutching at his arm, stumbled forward through the sick bay doors.
“Down” ordered HoS pointing to the ladder in the walkway. The man painfully managed with his good arm to descend the ladder while HoS and HIchop followed. At the bottom HoS pushed the man to the doors of the Cargo Bay before opening them and pushing him once more inside. The Baj-ass grimaced as he saw the pool of blood near one of the crates knowing it was his. He too now wished that he had not been noticed and had died beneath it. That death was surely better than what was waiting for him now.
Once inside, HoS threw him a blade similar in size to his own.
“Now, gargh, you will fight for your honour.” And he took up his fighting stance, blade drawn in front of him, the fingers of his left hand flexing.
For a few moments the only sound was the creaking of the hull of the ship, the hum of the engines and the breathing of both of the combatants now facing each other in the Hold. HIchop stood by the cargo bay doors and the control panel.
The Baj-ass stood and looked down at the blade he held in his hand. His shoulder still burned and he swayed with pain and the meds still in his system. Then he regarded the towering Klingon standing before him. His leather studded armour strained across his chest and his eyes were wild. There was no way he would win against this man and he couldn’t imagine that killing HoS would prolong his life for many more minutes. He stood briefly considering his options until his mind’s eye brought forth an image. It was the face of his wife, D’rell regarding him. Her eyes were shining bright and her mouth was curved in the sweetest of smiles. It gave him the courage to try if nothing else.
HoS was not caught unawares when the man lunged. He saw the decision to move in the man’s face and watched his body tense as he ran forward, brandishing his weapon, to meet him. HoS sighed and with a single swift movement, jabbed the blade forward. He felt resistance as the blade pierced the man’s skin between the rib bones on his right side. The Baj-ass stopped, his eyes widened and he dropped his knife. He stared up at HoS then down at the butt of the knife that was protruding from his chest. HoS, still holding the grip twisted the blade with a flick of his wrist until the man’s ribs cracked. He gasped and shuddered. HoS withdrew the blade, grabbed the falling man by the waist and nodded at HIchop. Then he strode over to the airlock doors with the Baj-ass limp on his hip.
HoS grasped a steel girder by the door and then wedged his booted foot between the plating on the floor and the wall. As HIchop activated the airlock doors and gripped the control panel, HoS hoisted the Baj-ass with a grunt out of the airlock and out into space. The man’s semi-conscious screams were cut abruptly short as the vacuum took effect. Then the doors shut and HoS prised himself out. Looking at HIchop, he cleaned his blade on his pants and re-stowed it in his belt.
“Right, I can hear the bloodwine calling me.” And they left the Hold on their way back to their posts.