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pNPC Commander Hatfield - Delicious

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So.... first of all, it's really great to have you back @Arturo Maxwell ❤️

I adore how well written this is, with a perfect build-up to the reveal of the prisoner. I also think I've never read of any character more in need of counselling than my girl Hatfield 🙃

((Location: Somewhere at the edge of the Delroth System.))

((Timestamp: Several Months Ago.))


Nova-class Surveyor; USS Meili.

Nova-class Surveyor; USS Grand Canyon-B.

Nova-class Surveyor; USS Ingvar.

Horizon-class Research Science Vessel; USS Blue Horizon.

Luna-class Explorer; USS Heliodora.

Odyssey-class Explorer; USS Mayoko (Task Force Flag).

Prometheus-class Heavy Cruiser; USS Traviel.

Olympic-class Medical Vessel; USS Eugene Roe.


Hatfield had watched as the vessels that made up the Starfleet formation listed in Fleet Traffic as TaskForce 288 had streaked away one after the other. Her own vessel was cloaked, powered down and drifting at sufficient distance to be undetectable to the Federation vessels as they departed the system.

Satisfied that all had departed, she exited the bridge and made for the interrogation suite on the deck directly below her private chambers. Her stilettos clicked on the deck as she walked, echoed by the thumping footsteps of her two giant Gorn bodyguards.


Officers and crew scrambled out of her way and saluted as she prowled the corridors to her destination. The doors hissed open and she stepped inside, casting her eyes over the half-naked and beaten prisoner that was shackled to a stained slab. At forty-five degrees the slab faced leftwards relative to the door, and the prisoner turned his head at her arrival. It was all he could move, shackled as he was at limbs, waist and throat.


Prisoner: I'm guessing you're no the maid?


His eyes were mismatched and he spoke with a delightful Scottish accent that in a different life would have turned her knees to jelly. A different life. One where she had enjoyed a glittering career and was damn good at her job.


Hatfield: You are very observant. No, I am not the maid.


The prisoner tried to flex his wrists a little to ease the discomfort of his restraints. She knew it was a fruitless exercise as her two interrogators were very thorough in their work. The two women were stood off to the side waiting with a trolley of fearsom implements sat between them. There was also a third member of the crew who held a recording device in his hands.


Prisoner: Then who are you, and what do you want?


She smiled.

It was a cruel smile that chilled blood and shredded nerves. She rested her fists on her hips as she stood before the shackled man.


Hatfield: I am Commander Vivienne Hatfield, and you are going to help me with something. You are going to help me orchestrate the death of Commodore Sal Taybrim. But first, you are going to help me shatter his spirit and heart entirely.


His response was a wide-eyed stare.

She smiled again. Her orders forbade her from killing the man herself, but the way she saw things that didn't extend to setting him up to be killed by someone else. Nor did it mean she couldn't tear him apart in other ways, nor inflict pain and death upon his senior officers. Her current scheme would be one such way.


Prisoner: I will no!


She laughed. 

It was a laugh full of sick humour, laced with a subtle tinge of restrained madness. Her emerald eye blazed as she pointed at her interrogators.


Hatfield: Oh, but you shall.


She stepped forwards, leaning over him so they were almost touching lips. Closing her eye, she took a deep breath before smiling and staring into his eyes. Her voice was a bare whisper.


Hatfield: You see, I'm going to have you tortured. It will be slow, and agonising and you are going to pray for the release of your own death. I am going to record the entire process, and transmit it to starbase one eighteen for the viewing pleasure of that infuriating redhead. ::She paused, planting a soft yet fierce and lingering kiss upon the prisoners lips before standing upright again.:: Thank you for your assistance.


She turned to face the crewman with the recorder, before nodding.

Waiting a moment until signalled by the crewman, Hatfield crossed her arms.


Hatfield: Commodore Sal Taybrim, I do hope you haven't forgotten me because I will never forget you. ::She turned her head slightly to emphasise the scarred side for a moment.:: I have a message for you.


She stepped aside to reveal the shackled prisoner and beckoned to the interrogators. They stepped forwards, light glinting from the horrific tools of their trade. Hatfield smiled at the recorder, and as she turned to walk away her departing words were punctuated by near-maniacal laughter.


Hatfield: Scream for me, Mr Maxwell. Scream!





Commander Vivienne Hatfield.

Former OC, USS Valeria.

Former Fleet Liason, House Kravzo'ch.


Simmed by;


Henry Maxwell.


Starbase 118 Operations.




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