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NPC Lt-Cdr Edward Villiers - For Molor


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((Type-11 Shuttle. En-route to the USS Narendra.))

 

Lieutenant-Commander Edward Villiers was forty-one years old and a man of average career prospects. He was balding early, and had a slightly hunched walk from an accident aboard ship some fifteen years previously.

He dropped his shuttlecraft out of warp and began his approach to the USS Narendra.

 

His co-pilot was a scarred Marine Sergeant and there were a half-dozen other personnel in the back along with several crates of delicate parts needed for ships repairs. The parts in question were both too small and too delicate for replication, and the repair crews had already used up the Narendra's supply of them. So here he was, flying an engineering rescue mission to the ship so that repairs could be completed.

 

He was sweating.

But then who could blame him? Despite his engineering background and steady hands, he wasn't here entirely by choice. The personnel he was carrying had been waiting for him at launch from Starbase 118, and there were no pleasantries to be found. But he'd been expecting them after the previous few days and their events.

 

He'd gotten home from his shift in the early hours, finding his apartment lights all on. Not strange in itself except that his wife and daughter should have been fast asleep at that time. He'd walked in, wondering what was going on, and had been greeted by the man sat beside him now.

Villiers had called for Shuna – his Bajoran wife – and then for his daughter, Aelizabeth. The man had just smiled at him, and it was a smile like that of a shark bearing down upon its next meal. He'd made for the door, but instead found himself on the ground and winded as a second man stepped into the apartment.

They wanted transport to the USS Narendra. And they knew that he was taking a shuttle there in a couple of days. They knew, because they had made sure it was him flying.

 

The people in the back were heavily-armed and made him nervous. They weren't part of any resupply mission, he knew that now. Something terrible was underway, and he was a part of it.

He didn't want to be. But they had his family! What could he do except obey?

As they cruised passed the Narendra, Villiers fancied that he could see two people sat in a lounge area. He stared at them as they sailed by, willing the people to notice the shuttle. To somehow know that something wasn't right. Instead, they were cleared to land and Villiers put the shuttle down in the area ordered.

Directly opposite was an Arrow-class runabout bearing the name Vondris. He powered down his own craft and sat silently as ordered. The Sergeant motioned to his team and a pair of them made for the Vondris.

 

One of the others from the back approached when beckoned. He wore a science Lieutenants uniform, but clearly wasn't in charge.

 

Sgt: As soon as the work is completed, we'll move on to stage two.

 

Lt: Aye, sir. What is the plan for stage two?

 

Sgt: We believe there are nearly forty of our brothers and sisters imprisoned here. They shall be prisoners no longer.

 

Villiers tried to remain motionless. Prisoners?

What where they on about? He didn't know, and right now he didn't care. He just wanted to go home and-

He let out a gasp as the blade slid into his flesh. The pain was indescribable, and yet he couldn't cry out.

There was a second – and a third – feeling of the blade, and he suddenly felt like the seat couldn't support him anymore. He gagged, spitting blood all over the console before pitching forwards. He cracked his cheek off the console as he went down onto the floor in a heap.

Edward Villiers never felt the broken nose that resulted from hitting the floor. He never heard the voice that whispered in his ear. He also had no idea that his family had already suffered the same fate as himself.

 

Sgt: For Molor.....

 

~tbc~ 

~*~

Cult Sabotage Team.

 

Scribbled by;

 

Lt-Commander Arturo Maxwell.

Chief Tactical Officer.

Starbase 118 Operations.

O239311AM0.

 
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