IKC FHew 7C6110
Cabin Fever – Tapestry weave
by HoD Ro' Matlh & Sogh Germite Ephilom & Ne' Michelle "Mike" Young & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Terri (Tell) Hope & Soghla' Jared & Soghla' Marie St. Helene
Post Details
Banquet Hall
Tell
In the midst of the luxury Comendant Steele was able to provide the man himself was feeling frustrated.
"Yes, yes," he said, interrupting another of Tell's songs of glory. "All of this anecdote is entertaining, but I was told you were warriors. When I hear that you have defeated Galaxy Class starships, I want to hear shield frequencies, tactical approaches, weapon configurations, not how honourable the Captain was. Tell me, how do I fight Starfleet and win?"
Tell was sick of this and her temper was beginning to get the better of her. "Ha Moonfleeter your impatient, it doesn't hold well to give away all of our secrets. I'm sure if the situation was reversed you would be the same. But I can tell you this we had them begging for mercy, they were no match for Klingons."
Steele fumed but then suddenly began to laugh, "You are far more cunning than I gave you credit for. I'll admit I was hoping to glean some tactical advantage from your information, but you give away nothing."
He turned to one of his aides, "Fetch Renko and the Doctor. I think we are done here."
Lecture Theatre
Mike
The assembled amphitheater moved restlessly. Despite the assurances of her host, Martavatta, Mike again suspected that there were very few actual medical personnel present.
Martavatta spoke again, "While we appreciate the basic outline, we are looking for more practical demonstrations."
She gestured and a gurney was wheeled in. Strapped to it was a human, head rolling from side to side, drooling, and oblivious to his surroundings. Perhaps this was a volunteer, but more likely this was a person pulled from a crowd at random and doped beyond the ability to object.
"What we are looking for is a detailed demonstration of Hegh'bat; the ritualized suicide of an injured Klingon. We have heard how hard one of your people is to kill, when it comes down to it. Show us what is the most efficient way to kill a Klingon."
Tag: Mike "Bump"
Trade Floor
Marie
Renko Steele was redefining objectionable. He was arrogant, self opinionated, crude to the point of base, and Marie's fists itched to push his sneering mouth through the back of his head.
He waved his arms around the assembled hall full of traders, all watching him with a sort of resentment that was only held in check by fear.
The gestures probably looked grand from a distance but, to Marie, they were anything but. For all the florid gesticulation, his hands were, in fact, were mostly on Marie. She was finding it difficult to bear but consoled herself with the notion of giving him enough rope. Then there was the thought of the bauble he had promised her. She knew just what bauble she wanted.
"All of this is mine," He crowed. "This is where people come and show off their wares, advertise their successes and display their wealth."
He leered at Marie, "And this is where you will service me, right on display for all people to understand their place and yours."
Most of the crowd appeared to be leering too and Marie had to admit she could understand why. The dress he had furnished her with was by far the best thing she had worn in years. It was silk – real, natural silk – that clung in all the right places and flowed away just where it needed to for greatest effect.
She leant in close to him. “Do you want to see how a Klingon makes love?” she purred.
Renko's eyes flashed. He was practically salivating. She leant back again and turned to the assembled traders. “Do you want to see how a Klingon makes love?”
The affirmative response was more like baying than speaking.
She held up two fingers and signaled Renko closer. “Come to me,” she said.
As soon as he was in reach her hand came up. The fingers lodged in Renko’s nostrils. She pulled sharply, splitting both nostrils and drawing blood.
Renko screamed in sudden shock and pain, his hands up to his nose which was flowing blood freely.
"You... you... "Renko stuttered, searching for an insult that was fitting enough for Marie.
“Now, now, dearest. This is but foreplay. There is a lot more to come,” she turned to the crowd and smiled sweetly. The baying grew in intensity.
Renko turned and snarled at the two hulking guards behind him, "Drow her out ad air log!"
The two guards looked at him, folded their arms and turned their back on his face, which was even more shocked than before. He turned to look back at Marie and then the crowd gathered around. It was becoming obvious to Marie that the baying was giving way to jeering.
So.... Marie thought while watching blood bubble out of Renko’s nose. If I’m not much mistaken, this is what his father wanted, his son humiliated in front of witnesses; witnesses who can remind him any time he tries it on again.
She placed one finger under Renko’s chin and lifted. “Come,” she said, pitching her voice so all could hear. “The fun is only just beginning. There’s much more to Klingon sex than that little tickle.”
Renko looked at Marie, but now his face was frightened not arrogant. Without Daddy's support he was nothing and he knew it. For once, I think I was allocated exactly the right mission, she thought.
“Come,” she said, pitching her voice so all could hear. “You look distracted. The fun is only just beginning, surely you're not bored. There’s much more to Klingon than that little tickle.”
His head came up towards hers. It was not a tender kiss on the lips that he received. Rather, it was a Liverpool Kiss.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “Is the enthusiasm waning? And you sounded so full of promise. I was looking forward to much more fun than this. We haven’t even gotten to the good bits yet. I must admit I didn’t think to bring my painsticks with me but...ah, well...we’ll just have to make do with more...direct pleasures.”
A person wearing an impressive uniform appeared and hurried over to the two body guards there was a whispered conversation. One of the body guards nodded and moved to Marie.
"When you are finished," he guttered, "The Commandant wants to see you."
Marie looked at the pathetic figure on the decking in front of her. She knelt and tenderly stroked his chin. “Don’t worry,” she said soothingly, “we can continue this later. And don’t forget that little promise: whatever I ask for. Remember.”
Renko sputtered blood but might have answered her. Then again he might not.
“Louder, I don’t think they quite caught the answer. Whatever I ask for,” she repeated, raising her own voice significantly.
"Yes," He finally managed, not meeting her gaze, "Whatever you want."
Marie turned to the Impressive Uniform. “I could go on like this for hours but I think my friend here has had enough for the moment. Maq'Duf tuDev,” she said, rendering the quote from Macbeth in its original Klingon for added effect.
Under Station
Jared, Germite, HIchop
This part of the station was all but deserted. It housed the reclamation pipes and life support recyclers. It was hot, and it stank.
Jared led the way, following a map he had been provided by Jeeves. Every now and again he mumbled something to himself, or possibly someone else. Germite followed behind, trying to support HIchop who was finally succumbing to the virus and barely conscious. He worried that Jared was going insane, and reflecting that there would be no way of ever being able to tell. Perhaps the little Vetus had always been insane. Certainly, their current outing ticked all the loony boxes.
Jared stopped suddenly in front of a length of cloth that reached from floor to ceiling. Germite hadn't even really noticed it, but when Jared pulled it aside and stepped through, he realized it was a concealed entrance to another area. On the other side of the curtain was a laboratory. It was filled with foaming beakers and machines that fizzed and crackled with energy. Everything about this place screamed Mad Scientist, and warned that no one should have anything to do with anyone who lived here.
Except...
Germite was a trained medic and he knew many of the pieces of equipment on show. The dangerous crackling machine was a simple Van de graph generator, the coiling power display was a simple plasma light show, the bubbling beakers were being fed artificially from a gas cylinder at the side of the desk. This was a show for people with less informed eyes. It probably worked against the inhabitants of Moonfleet, but he realized that nothing here was actually dangerous.
A small elderly man, attracted by the sound of their entrance, appeared from another door at the back of the room. He took in the trio and sighed.
"Are you looking to re-animate the Klingon or dispose of a body?"
Tag: Germite, HIchop or Jared reacting/commenting "Bump"
He sighed, "All right. Put him on the table."
He began to run tests. This seemed to go on for a long time. as it did the man became more animated and excited. Eventually, her returned with a set of Hypospray charges.
"You know, I have not seen a challenge like this since I met Romulan who was developing a new contagion agent. Whatever is afflicting this Klingon is genetically keyed for a completely different species, artificially designed and developed. It has mutated from the original, and it is only purely by chance that it was able to key into the genetic hole in the Klingon Genome. This is why your own Flat-head here was so resistant. He is already pumped full of stuff to protect him form genetic damage."
"I have here a dozen vials of the antidote, one for each of the crew. A B'rel standard crew is twelve, I believe. You can use a replicator to create more if need be. Now there is just a matter of payment."
by HoD Ro' Matlh & Sogh Germite Ephilom & Ne' Michelle "Mike" Young & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Terri (Tell) Hope & Soghla' Jared & Soghla' Marie St. Helene
Post Details
| Title | Tapestry weave | |
| Mission | Cabin Fever | |
| Author(s) | HoD Ro' Matlh & Sogh Germite Ephilom & Ne' Michelle "Mike" Young & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Terri (Tell) Hope & Soghla' Jared & Soghla' Marie St. Helene | |
| Posted | Sun Oct 18, 2015 @ 5:42am | |
| Location | Masyo' Station |
Banquet Hall
Tell
In the midst of the luxury Comendant Steele was able to provide the man himself was feeling frustrated.
"Yes, yes," he said, interrupting another of Tell's songs of glory. "All of this anecdote is entertaining, but I was told you were warriors. When I hear that you have defeated Galaxy Class starships, I want to hear shield frequencies, tactical approaches, weapon configurations, not how honourable the Captain was. Tell me, how do I fight Starfleet and win?"
Tell was sick of this and her temper was beginning to get the better of her. "Ha Moonfleeter your impatient, it doesn't hold well to give away all of our secrets. I'm sure if the situation was reversed you would be the same. But I can tell you this we had them begging for mercy, they were no match for Klingons."
Steele fumed but then suddenly began to laugh, "You are far more cunning than I gave you credit for. I'll admit I was hoping to glean some tactical advantage from your information, but you give away nothing."
He turned to one of his aides, "Fetch Renko and the Doctor. I think we are done here."
Lecture Theatre
Mike
The assembled amphitheater moved restlessly. Despite the assurances of her host, Martavatta, Mike again suspected that there were very few actual medical personnel present.
Martavatta spoke again, "While we appreciate the basic outline, we are looking for more practical demonstrations."
She gestured and a gurney was wheeled in. Strapped to it was a human, head rolling from side to side, drooling, and oblivious to his surroundings. Perhaps this was a volunteer, but more likely this was a person pulled from a crowd at random and doped beyond the ability to object.
"What we are looking for is a detailed demonstration of Hegh'bat; the ritualized suicide of an injured Klingon. We have heard how hard one of your people is to kill, when it comes down to it. Show us what is the most efficient way to kill a Klingon."
Tag: Mike "Bump"
Trade Floor
Marie
Renko Steele was redefining objectionable. He was arrogant, self opinionated, crude to the point of base, and Marie's fists itched to push his sneering mouth through the back of his head.
He waved his arms around the assembled hall full of traders, all watching him with a sort of resentment that was only held in check by fear.
The gestures probably looked grand from a distance but, to Marie, they were anything but. For all the florid gesticulation, his hands were, in fact, were mostly on Marie. She was finding it difficult to bear but consoled herself with the notion of giving him enough rope. Then there was the thought of the bauble he had promised her. She knew just what bauble she wanted.
"All of this is mine," He crowed. "This is where people come and show off their wares, advertise their successes and display their wealth."
He leered at Marie, "And this is where you will service me, right on display for all people to understand their place and yours."
Most of the crowd appeared to be leering too and Marie had to admit she could understand why. The dress he had furnished her with was by far the best thing she had worn in years. It was silk – real, natural silk – that clung in all the right places and flowed away just where it needed to for greatest effect.
She leant in close to him. “Do you want to see how a Klingon makes love?” she purred.
Renko's eyes flashed. He was practically salivating. She leant back again and turned to the assembled traders. “Do you want to see how a Klingon makes love?”
The affirmative response was more like baying than speaking.
She held up two fingers and signaled Renko closer. “Come to me,” she said.
As soon as he was in reach her hand came up. The fingers lodged in Renko’s nostrils. She pulled sharply, splitting both nostrils and drawing blood.
Renko screamed in sudden shock and pain, his hands up to his nose which was flowing blood freely.
"You... you... "Renko stuttered, searching for an insult that was fitting enough for Marie.
“Now, now, dearest. This is but foreplay. There is a lot more to come,” she turned to the crowd and smiled sweetly. The baying grew in intensity.
Renko turned and snarled at the two hulking guards behind him, "Drow her out ad air log!"
The two guards looked at him, folded their arms and turned their back on his face, which was even more shocked than before. He turned to look back at Marie and then the crowd gathered around. It was becoming obvious to Marie that the baying was giving way to jeering.
So.... Marie thought while watching blood bubble out of Renko’s nose. If I’m not much mistaken, this is what his father wanted, his son humiliated in front of witnesses; witnesses who can remind him any time he tries it on again.
She placed one finger under Renko’s chin and lifted. “Come,” she said, pitching her voice so all could hear. “The fun is only just beginning. There’s much more to Klingon sex than that little tickle.”
Renko looked at Marie, but now his face was frightened not arrogant. Without Daddy's support he was nothing and he knew it. For once, I think I was allocated exactly the right mission, she thought.
“Come,” she said, pitching her voice so all could hear. “You look distracted. The fun is only just beginning, surely you're not bored. There’s much more to Klingon than that little tickle.”
His head came up towards hers. It was not a tender kiss on the lips that he received. Rather, it was a Liverpool Kiss.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “Is the enthusiasm waning? And you sounded so full of promise. I was looking forward to much more fun than this. We haven’t even gotten to the good bits yet. I must admit I didn’t think to bring my painsticks with me but...ah, well...we’ll just have to make do with more...direct pleasures.”
A person wearing an impressive uniform appeared and hurried over to the two body guards there was a whispered conversation. One of the body guards nodded and moved to Marie.
"When you are finished," he guttered, "The Commandant wants to see you."
Marie looked at the pathetic figure on the decking in front of her. She knelt and tenderly stroked his chin. “Don’t worry,” she said soothingly, “we can continue this later. And don’t forget that little promise: whatever I ask for. Remember.”
Renko sputtered blood but might have answered her. Then again he might not.
“Louder, I don’t think they quite caught the answer. Whatever I ask for,” she repeated, raising her own voice significantly.
"Yes," He finally managed, not meeting her gaze, "Whatever you want."
Marie turned to the Impressive Uniform. “I could go on like this for hours but I think my friend here has had enough for the moment. Maq'Duf tuDev,” she said, rendering the quote from Macbeth in its original Klingon for added effect.
Under Station
Jared, Germite, HIchop
This part of the station was all but deserted. It housed the reclamation pipes and life support recyclers. It was hot, and it stank.
Jared led the way, following a map he had been provided by Jeeves. Every now and again he mumbled something to himself, or possibly someone else. Germite followed behind, trying to support HIchop who was finally succumbing to the virus and barely conscious. He worried that Jared was going insane, and reflecting that there would be no way of ever being able to tell. Perhaps the little Vetus had always been insane. Certainly, their current outing ticked all the loony boxes.
Jared stopped suddenly in front of a length of cloth that reached from floor to ceiling. Germite hadn't even really noticed it, but when Jared pulled it aside and stepped through, he realized it was a concealed entrance to another area. On the other side of the curtain was a laboratory. It was filled with foaming beakers and machines that fizzed and crackled with energy. Everything about this place screamed Mad Scientist, and warned that no one should have anything to do with anyone who lived here.
Except...
Germite was a trained medic and he knew many of the pieces of equipment on show. The dangerous crackling machine was a simple Van de graph generator, the coiling power display was a simple plasma light show, the bubbling beakers were being fed artificially from a gas cylinder at the side of the desk. This was a show for people with less informed eyes. It probably worked against the inhabitants of Moonfleet, but he realized that nothing here was actually dangerous.
A small elderly man, attracted by the sound of their entrance, appeared from another door at the back of the room. He took in the trio and sighed.
"Are you looking to re-animate the Klingon or dispose of a body?"
Tag: Germite, HIchop or Jared reacting/commenting "Bump"
He sighed, "All right. Put him on the table."
He began to run tests. This seemed to go on for a long time. as it did the man became more animated and excited. Eventually, her returned with a set of Hypospray charges.
"You know, I have not seen a challenge like this since I met Romulan who was developing a new contagion agent. Whatever is afflicting this Klingon is genetically keyed for a completely different species, artificially designed and developed. It has mutated from the original, and it is only purely by chance that it was able to key into the genetic hole in the Klingon Genome. This is why your own Flat-head here was so resistant. He is already pumped full of stuff to protect him form genetic damage."
"I have here a dozen vials of the antidote, one for each of the crew. A B'rel standard crew is twelve, I believe. You can use a replicator to create more if need be. Now there is just a matter of payment."