ON: The Starving Wolf
Day: Present Time
Time: N/A
Scene: Aghavard Vessel, within the Zychormca Fleet
The battle had erupted, and gone. Sadly, the only thing that had changed was
that Grratar had become even more powerful and wealthy. From her technical
station, Lt Esdram reflected that, all things considered, Grratar had nothing
to be proud of. Some might consider him as a great warrior, a visionary who
took his people far into the stars, but in reality it was all due to
circumstance. Grratar had virtually had his captainship pushed upon him. His
family were very influential and its was obvious that its eldest son should
lead an extraordinary life.
Not everyone among the Zychormca was so lucky. Some clans, like that of the
Esdram, were still paying now for mistakes committed centuries ago by their
ancestors. It was weak to speak of unfairness, but Esdram wished that the
window of opportunity allocated to her career was a bit larger.
As things were, she barely had the right to breathe, but her obligations were
plentiful, and sometimes punishable by death if she didn't complete the
orders received in due time. Of course, from the point of view of her
superiors, her pitiful existence didn't matter. There were hundreds of
technicians behind her, waiting to take her position. This was the direct
result of being at the top of the food chain, so to speak. Death in combat
was very rare nowadays, which ensured that the top dogs always had an endless
list of replacements, should they lose an officer during an 'accident'.
Although she felt sure she had never seen a genuine accident in all of her
life. These events were traditionally engineered by impatient crewmembers.
She herself had eliminated a few youngsters who thought that a sharp blade
was enough to send her to the other world. It happened a lot less now, since
her position was less than enviable nowadays. On his side, someone like
Grratar probably experienced an attempt on his life each and every day. His
ability to survive all of them spoke for his strength and intelligence.
After checking that all the systems onboard the Aghavard were running
efficiently, Esdram consulted the amount of resources that they were
scheduled to receive thanks to the recent battle they had so easily won. When
she saw that less than 3% had been allocated to her C.O., she almost swore,
but managed not to attract any attention to herself. It was bad enough that
their Captain always seemed to satisfy himself with this meagre pittance; she
also knew that the crew would only see a fraction of these poor resources.
This was not for nothing that their ship had long been dubbed the 'starving
wolf.'
It was at moment like these that she wished she could escape her condition.
She felt sure she would fare much better on her own, than with all the
restrictions imposed on her. Unfortunately, the Zychormca were brilliant
enough to have an invincible combat shield, which made any escape impossible
during the frenzy that accompanied most space fights.
Esdram repressed a scream of frustration and addressed her C.O: "Weapons,
defence and engineering systems are all functional, Captain. We only suffered
minor damages on the lower decks, which are being repaired as we speak."
"This is noted," the Captain said in a vague murmur. His lack of interest was
not a surprise. Sleeping quarters were located on these decks and no one in
their right mind cared about them. The rougher you slept, the more
competitive and hence efficient you became. Anger was the corner stone of a
Zychormca's life. What, on the other hand, was unusual, was the absence of
most Bridge crew. At present it looked like a ghost ship more than anything
else. In her mind, this could only be for two reasons: they had either
gathered in the mess hall to celebrate a new victory in combat, or it was a
set up to test her reactions.
If the later was true, she was in a tricky situation. One were she would be
damned if she didn't do anything, and damned if she acted. For no Zychormca
would want to be caught letting a promotion pass them by.
Deciding that she didn't have the luxury to think right now, Esdram took the
cleaver that never left her belt and made a few steps towards the CO's chair.
Usually it was no more than an eating utensil, but today, it might become
much more… The fact that the Bridge remained eerily quiet encouraged her to
carry out her self-promotion act swiftly. She raised her weapon, and lowered
it with all her strength onto the Captain's head, effectively breaking his
skull in two neat parts.
She pushed the body aside before its leaking fluids could stain the chair,
and sat down. "Remove this waste from my sight!" She ordered to the only two
officers present at the moment. "You," she added to the youngest of the two
men, "send a ship-wide message to announce the change of command, and arrange
a general meeting in the cargo bay. The Aghavard is taking a new direction.
It's about time that the starving wolf eats to its content!"
This, of course, was if she survived the ordeal of being a C.O. With her
sudden rise, the attempts made on her life were bound to rise
significantly...
OFF: Lt Esdram, Technician, Written by:
Cmdr Claryx Vahl
XO
USS Dark Matter
