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Sal Taybrim

pNPC Vrerik - Bastille day (NT)

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((IKS Vr'Chok. Negh'Var-class Attack Cruiser.))

((Location Unknown.))

((One month ago.))

 

Plasma spewed from the stricken ship as blood flowed from a severed artery, the vessel slowly turning end over end as it drifted lazily. A few thousand kilometres distant, the secure transport it had been escorting was also drifting, having lost power from a well-placed battery of shots.

 

He clasped his hands behind his back as he glared at the dying ship before them, before turning at pointing a deadly finger at the comms officer.

 

Vrerik: Hail them.

 

Comms: Yes, sir.

 

A few moments later, the viewscreen changed to show a Starfleet bridge at Red Alert, sparks flew and smoke hung thickly in the air as a human woman stiffened to attention.

 

Vrerik: I am Sub-Lieutenant Vrerik of the Romulan Imperial Navy. And I have some questions for you. ::His tone was calm, almost casual. As if he was making a call to an old friend.:: Firstly, may I ask to whom I am speaking?

 

Roth: Lieutenant-Commander Inge Roth.

 

Vrerik nodded politely, yet his smile was more predatory than friendly.

 

Vrerik: And in what capacity do you serve, Commander Roth? I see you are wearing teal. You are a doctor I presume?

 

Roth: I am. ::She nodded.:: I am both first officer and chief medical officer aboard this vessel.

 

Vrerik: Where is your captain?

 

Roth stood aside slightly, allowing the viewscreen to show a lifeless body slumped beside the command chair.

 

Vrerik: Chief doctor, first officer, and now acting-captain. ::He clapped slowly, just short of being mocking.:: You have quite a collection of feathers in your cap, Commander. Very well. I shall ask you my important questions instead, as your captain does not appear to be in a conversational mood.

 

His dark eyes twinkled with enjoyment as the woman on screen bristled slightly.

 

Roth: What do you want?

 

Vrerik: Want? ::He held a hand to his chest in a human gesture of hurt surprise.:: What do I want?

 

He stepped closer to the viewscreen, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling slightly.

 

Vrerik: I want Commodore Allan Kinney. That is what I want. You were escorting him aboard that transport, he is no longer aboard, and I want you to tell me where he is. Give him to me.

 

Roth: Kinney? Never heard of him. We were just told to escort that ship.

 

Vrerik: Do not play games with me, Commander. It will not end well for you or your crew. I have killed far more, for far less than what you can give to me.

 

The officer on the screen took a step back, even as her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. She held her hands out, as if asking for mercy.

 

Roth: We are no threat to you, and we have many wounded aboard. I do not know the name Kinney. We were told nothing about the passengers aboard that transport.

 

Vrerik turned away from the screen for a moment, to the chief weapons officer.

 

Vrerik: The boarding party has returned, yes?

 

CWO: Yes, sir. The man Kinney is not aboard. Only thirty Starfleet crew and sixty-four prisoners.

 

Vrerik: Then we have no further use for it.

 

He gave a sharp nod to the chief weapons officer, and seconds later the Vr'Chok unleashed everything it had onto the comparatively tiny transport. The transport was wiped from existence, leaving behind almost nothing to indicate it had ever been there.

 

Vrerik: I am sorry you could not be of assistance, Dr Roth.

 

He gave another sharp nod to the chief weapons officer.

 

Roth: Oh, sh- ::Panic set in as she scrambled to hit the nearest comms panel.:: =/\= Mayday! Mayday! This is the USS Bastille to anybody that can hear me! Mayd- =/\=

 

The cry for help was shortlived as the small cruiser was blasted apart by the Vr'Chok once more unleashing its full armament of weapons. Closing his eyes and letting out a breath, he smiled to himself as an angry growl and the creaking of leather drifted towards him.

 

General: You fool. Now we shall learn nothing from them!

 

Vrerik whipped around like a viper ready to strike, and indeed he could have for he was already stood a hands width away from the General's face with a cold and murderous fire in his eyes. It was enough to even give the General a moments pause.

 

Vrerik: Oh, but we have. We have learned everything we need to know from them.

 

General: And what is it that we have learned?

 

Vrerik: This was nothing more than a ruse. Commodore Kinney is still aboard Starbase 118, along with its meddlesome crew.

 

He stepped back suddenly, clapping his hands together sharply and emitting a short maniac bark of a laugh. He turned away, heading for the General's chambers.

 

Vrerik: Come, General Krala! The Circle will want to hear what we have to say.

 

~fin~

 

Sub-Lieutenant Vrerik.

Romulan Imperial Navy Officer.

 

Simmed by;

 

Lt.Cdr. Arturo Maxwell.

Chief Tactical Officer.

Starbase 118 Operations.

O239311AM0.

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