At first, she flinched away from my touch, and given the bruises I'd seen on her body, I understood why. But as my frigate limped across the system, she began to relax, she let me show her some affection while I kept myself busy with status reports and by going over the limited information the Kazon had been able to trade with us.
The poor girl must have been starved for it—just a few hours into our trip, she was already leaning into my gentle touch.
"We are beginning to scan the debris field," one of the crew announced.
To do this, we were using a technology known as Auspex, also called an Augur when the tech was part of a starship. It was likely very basic compared to what the Federation used, but it would be enough for our purposes.
While the crew worked, my attention shifted to my data-slate, which beeped again.
400 CP
+100 CP
= 500 CP
Bank or Roll?
I saw no reason not to roll.
Fair Wages for Fair Work
200 CP
Warhammer 40K: Squats
It's a rough galaxy, and if you see someone without anyone guarding their back, you might take them for an easy mark. But never you. Whether it's the reputation Squats have for vengeance or your own demeanour, people always pay you a fair price for your work and never try to cheat you by skipping out on payment. Sure, they may try to kill you for other reasons, but such is life in these times.
That seemed like a useful perk for a Rogue Trader to have. So far, I had only dealt with a single Kazon faction, and they had been reasonable enough—if only because I had enough firepower, but I was wise enough to know this wouldn't always be the case.
There was another Kazon Maje, one whose name I could not recall, who was a pain in Voyager's backside for quite some time. I had a horrible feeling I would need to deal with him at some point so best to take the perk.
500 CP
- 200 CP
= 300 CP
As time passed, The Endless Endeavour crept through the debris field, her normally powerful engines barely pushing us forward as we sifted through the wreckage that was a graveyard for starships. If Neelix was out here he was doing a good job of laying low as we had detected him.
Moving slowly was important as we sailed through the ruined ships, the shattered hulls, and floating scrap could easily have damaged my frigate if we weren't careful. The last thing we needed was more hull breaches.
The scanners were picking up all sorts of interesting things—remnants of old ships, more intact but still abandoned vessels that hadn't been here for long, and I knew that the tech-priest were itching to examine so much technology from unknown origins.
They were not regular tech-priests if I was any judge. Likely they were serving on this vessel because they were a little radical for the more orthodox members of their organisation who ranked above them to handle, but not outright heritical in their actions.
I suspected this field had been collecting debris for months, if not longer, depending on how many space-going vessels the Caretaker had dragged here from the galaxy for whatever his purpose.
Given our presence here it seemed that he was even able to reach beyond this universe, although I suspect the warp storm had played a role as had whatever it was behind the Codex Celestial.
When I left the Command Throne, I easily unhooked the chain that loosely bound Kes to the throne, the whole thing was more symbolic than practical, and she eagerly followed me, wanting to find out more about what was going on.
"Any signs of hostile vessels?" I asked.
Few of them gave Kes more than a glance despite her being half-naked. They must be somewhat used to a Rogue Traders oddness or they just knew better than to stare.
"No, my lord" replied one of my bridge officers, a gruff-looking man with a cybernetic eye. "The field appears deserted. But are picking up some odd energy readings".
That caught my attention
"What kind of readings?" I asked.
He hesitated as if struggling to find the right words.
"It's... difficult to say, Lord Captain," he admitted. "Some of the energy readings suggest... something similar to the readings you get when a ship enters and leaves the Warp, but no ships as small as the ones we see here could have a Warp Drive and the readings are different".
Well, they could, but not in the way he was thinking. Most likely we were picking up the trails of ships using what passed for a Warp Drive in this galaxy.
"Scan the entire debris field as carefully as possible," I ordered. "I want to know everything that's out here. If there's anything here we can use, I want it".
As the crew went to work, I turned back to Kes, who was staying close to me. She was more relaxed now, but there was still a sense of unease about her. I couldn't blame her; she was surrounded by aliens who thought she was part of a subspecies only worthy to serve as pets to people of high station.
Given the limited lifespan of her species, which was less than a decade if memory served, we must seem like such long-lived beings to her. Granted, the lifespan of a human in the Imperium can vary from a few decades to hundreds of years, depending on the individual's wealth, world, and access to medical care, but Kes was a mere child compared to the people around her. It must be strange.
"What are you going to do if you find someone?" she asked in a quiet voice.
I had no interest in bothering any survivors.
"We're just here for raw materials, and there aren't any energy signatures here to suggest any active ships," I told her. "We're just going to salvage raw materials for repair work. As long as no one bothers us, we won't bother them".
Her expression softened slightly, but I could still see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. She wasn't sure if she could trust me yet, and that was understandable.
"You're not like the Kazon," she said, more to herself than to me.
It was true; I wasn't like the Kazon. But that didn't mean I wasn't dangerous in my own right.
"Rogue Traders often deal in affairs that affect whole worlds if not entire sectors of the galaxy," I said to her "Compared to that the Kazon are savages digging around the dirt".
I would have spoken more, but my attention was suddenly needed elsewhere.
"Lord Captain," came a voice from the crew, "We've found something. A derelict ship—unidentified, but it's still partially functional. There's a faint energy signal coming from it. That might mean it has star charts we can acquire or other information from still functioning cogitators".
On the holoprojector, the image of a battered vessel appeared, drifting silently among the debris. It was an odd-looking ship. It looked familiar, and I would say it was Federation in design, but the damage done to the craft made it hard to identify the class.
"Is it operational?" I asked.
While I doubted it would be a threat due to its size, I noticed how it was too small and the wrong shape to be Voyager. What mattered to us was if it was a Starfleet vessel, it would have star charts as well as lots of other useful information.
"It's hard to say, sir," the officer replied. "The readings are inconsistent, but we may be able to board it to find out more".
That could be an interesting adventure. I would like to see what kind of Starfleet vessel this was and meet any survivors if there were any.
"Prepare a boarding party," I ordered. "I want a closer look at that ship. It could be worth more than anything we got from the Kazon".
I considered if I should bring Kes with me or not. One should walk their pets, and it wouldn't be fair to keep her cooped up all the time.
"You can come with me if you wish," I offered.
Kes was as curious as a space pixie, from what I recalled of her personality.
"I'd like that, Lord Captain," she said.
As the crew prepared for the boarding mission, my mind raced with possibilities about what we might find.
Part 4
The Endless Endeavour. The Ocampa System
As we made our way toward the boarding shuttle that was waiting for me in the landing bay of the frigate, I did my best to mentally prepare myself for what was to come. Soon I would be leading a team to explore what remained of a vessel that looked to have been built by humans.
While I didn't have to lead the boarding party, I was going to this time as Rogue Traders had a command style that favoured Captain Kirk more than Captain Picard, and I was the most senior representative of the Imperium here which mattered to the Imperials serving on this ship.
Also, I knew that I would not be respected by my crew if I spent all my time on the bridge giving orders or in my new chambers filling out paperwork. Not that I would always be leading from the front, but it was a good idea to do so now, to show that I wasn't a coward.
Kes was still by my side, her movements hesitant but growing more confident as she began to accept that I wasn't going to hurt her or treat her as just a slave or pet—even if that was technically part of her role while she was on this ship.
I was curious about how she had learned to speak High Gothic so quickly—some psyker trick, perhaps—but that was a conversation for later. Maybe she could even teach me to use my psyker powers once we had time to spend just with each other.
The landing bay was bustling with activity as the boarding crew prepared for the mission. Weapons were checked, their armoured void suits adjusted, and handheld scanners secured in equipment pouches along with some other odds and ends they might need during this mission.
These men and women gave me the impression of being loyal and capable troops, but none of them were truly prepared for what we might encounter in this galaxy. Yet, if any members of the crew could handle this mission, it was them, otherwise they wouldn't be here.
I stepped onto the boarding craft, and Kes followed closely behind. I could tell she was filled with curiosity, no doubt eager to board another strange alien vessel and expand her knowledge of the galaxy. She wouldn't have to wait for long as soon we were leaving the frigate.
The journey to the derelict ship was quiet—too quiet. The troopers around me exchanged only a few words and didn't engage with Kes or me, either out of respect for my station or because they preferred to keep their distance. After all, I was not one of them.
It struck me then that I might never know true friendship again. Even if I could see any Imperial as close to my equal, and they certainly wouldn't, I would never be able to confide in them about the truth of who I really am. A depressing thought.
Above us, a crude holoprojector flickered to life, displaying an image of the battered vessel we were approaching. It looked more like a tomb than a ship—a lifeless husk drifting in space, its crew either dead or gone. From this angle, it looked more intact and as we got closer we could tell that some of its lights were still on.
Spoiler
Something about it intrigued me. Starfleet didn't just leave their ships lying around. Why hadn't they destroyed the vessel? Or, if it had been salvageable, why hadn't they repaired it? And why did it seem wrong somehow? So many questions.
As I pondered the mystery, my data-slate chimed for my attention.
300 CP
100 CP
= 400 CP
Bank or Roll?
I quickly selected the roll option.
Witch-Eater
300 CP
Warhammer 40,000 – Space Marines v1.0
You generate an aura of retaliation against powers spawned from another dimension, such as the Warp. Anyone who attempts to use such powers near you will not only find it much more difficult to do so but should they succeed, they will experience a "blowback" effect that causes them harm.
Accept/Deny?
That would use up most of my points, but it would be worth it—especially considering how often things from subspace could cause people problems. Voyager had to deal with photonic aliens from another dimension if memory served. Best to be prepared for such madness.
400 CP
- 300 CP
= 100 CP
"We are approaching the derelict now, Lord Captain," the pilot's voice crackled through the comms, pulling me from my thoughts. "We'll dock in two minutes".
I nodded, straightening in my seat.
"Get ready, everyone," I said, my voice firm. "This isn't just a salvage mission There might be lifeforms aboard this derelict".
As we neared the ship, the sensors began to pick up more details. There were faint traces of energy readings—they were weak and sporadic, but still enough to warrant caution.
The boarding craft wouldn't dock with the heavily damaged starship in the normal sense. While it had a shuttle bay, we couldn't access it. Instead, our craft had the means to breach the hull without causing explosive decompression. Despite this, we still wore suits of armour meant to allow us to survive exposure to the vacuum of space for a time.
Once we had a way in, the troopers filed out, weapons drawn. I motioned for Kes to stay close to me. Despite her eagerness to explore, I wasn't sure she was ready to face whatever lay within this broken-down vessel.
As we moved down the ship's dark corridors, it was clear the ship had seen better days. Burn marks and twisted metal lined the walls. Even if my attention hadn't been drawn to the massive symbol on one of the more intact bulkheads, I would have suspected a firefight had taken place here. But the emblem confirmed that this was not a safe place to be.
Spoiler
This was not the symbol of the peace-loving Federation. Which meant that this was a Terran Empire vessel.
"Stay alert," I told the team.
We moved cautiously through the ship, my senses on high alert. Every little noise heightened my tension until we finally reached the bridge—which unlike other parts of the ship was mostly intact.
Since we hadn't encountered any immediate threats, I sent some men back to the boarding craft so they could escort the Enginseer we had brought along. Upon arrival, he quickly declared that the ship's data banks were, surprisingly, still intact.
The Enginseer wasted no time, moving toward one of the still-functional consoles with the reverence of a priest tending to a shrine. His mecha-dendrites extended out, plugging into what I guessed was a compatible data port.
"Lord Captain," he intoned in his synthetic voice that was tinged with a hint of excitement. "The ship's machine spirits are wounded and mostly dormant but operational. Data retrieval is possible with the right rituals".
It would be good to get something concrete from this little jaunt.
"Good. See what you can recover" I said.
As the Enginseer worked, I let my eyes wander over the bridge. Terminals lay shattered, wires sparked from torn panels, yet there were no corpses about so either the crew had been able to get off the ship or someone had tied up. They couldn't or had chosen not to do the same for the ship machines.
"Captain," said Kes in a whisper "There is someone nearby".
I assumed she didn't mean the Engineseer or the troopers so I attempted to reach out with my psyker talent and I was able to sense what I felt sure was a powerful mind.
Kes and I moved into the one part of the ship that was not only intact it looked as if had been tidied up. This turned out to be because it was occupied by a person I knew to be T'Pol's mirror universe counterpart. The style of her uniform and long hair made that clear to me.
Spoiler
She was poised, her stance disciplined but I could sense some tension. The features of her Vulcan heritage were unmistakable, but the uniform she wore— with its Terran Empire insignia—left no doubt about her origins. This was not the T'Pol of the Federation; this was her mirror universe counterpart. Which meant this must be the ISS Enterprise or one of them.
Her dark eyes locked onto mine but she remained still. A phaser pistol was holstered at her hip, but she hadn't drawn it yet. That was a good sign—she was cautious but not immediately hostile.
"You're not Starfleet," she said, her voice laced with suspicion and much more emotive than you'd expect from a Vulcan. "Your presence here is… unexpected".
I stepped forward, keeping my movements slow and deliberate. The troopers flanking me kept their weapons at the ready, but I gestured for them to hold their fire. There was no need to escalate things—yet.
"And you are a long way from the Terran Empire," I replied. "And I don't imagine this ship was left adrift by choice".
T'Pol's expression barely shifted, but I caught the faintest flicker of something. It was hard to tell. Vulcans, even those of the mirror universe, were difficult to read even this one seemed more expressive than the Vulcans I was used to seeing on the TV screen.
"I assume you are responsible for the breach in my ship's hull?" she asked, ignoring my words for now "Your technology is unfamiliar, but your methods suggest opportunists. Pirates, perhaps, or maybe mercenaries, you look too organised to mere scavengers?".
The troopers took offense at that I could sense it without turning to look at them and I understood why as while Rogue Traders could be all of those things we were so much more as were the crew who served them.
"I am Lord Captain of the frigate, The Endless Endeavour" I informed the Vulcan woman "And while did come to this debris field for salvage we aren't just looking for things to sell we need we're here because our ship needs materials for repairs".
There was more to it than that and there was harm in sharing this information with her since who was she going to tell? She was alone on this ship and therefore no threat to us.
This was when I realised that since she could understand me and I wasn't speaking English, I could tell the difference, she must have some sort of translation technology. I would have to acquire it as having servo-skulls floating about while serving as translators wasn't going to go down well with everyone we met.
"How did you survive when the rest of the crew didn't?" I asked.
T'pol was in no position not to cooperate and tell me what I wished to know.
"The ship was badly damaged when we were pulled into his system" she explained "Many of the crew died or vanished. As we attempted to make repairs in this debris field our ship was attacked and boarded by a race called the Kazon".
That explained why the corridors looked as if there had been a running firefight in them.
"We drove the Kazon off the ship before they could finish looting the Enterprise, but by then life support was starting to fail so the last of the crew took the shuttle pods and left" we were told "Those that weren't allowed to leave died when the air became thinner and supplies became scarce. As a Vuclan I can go without food for longer than a Humans and breathe thinner air".
It wouldn't shock me to discover she had killed a few people to keep herself alive when the food ran out.
"We need information and materials," I said, deciding to give her some information "Your ship is a derelict drifting in space. It's only natural that we would investigate".
T'Pol's hands remained still, but I could tell she was thinking, weighing her next move, considering her options.
"If you boarded my vessel with the intent of plundering it, then you must have some idea of its value" she reasoned.
Kes, who had remained silent until now, shifted slightly beside me.
"It's not as if you can stop them from taking what they want," she said, her voice calm yet firm. "Instead, here we are speaking with you".
T'Pol turned her gaze fully on Kes now, her brow slightly furrowed as she examined my pet whose features were hidden by her void suit.
"An Ocampan?" she said "Curoius".
Vulcans had psychic talents and while they normally required physical contact to use she had been able to sense that Kes was not human despite everyone other than T'Pol wearing helmets. Perhaps she did so psychically or detected this another way.
"Perhaps we can help each other," I said. "Your ship is damaged, your crew is missing or dead, and yet you've managed to survive. This ship is beyond our means to repair. Sooner or later you will die here cold and alone".
T'Pol arched an eyebrow but otherwise kept her cool.
"And what do you propose?" she asked.
I gestured back at the bridge
"Help us salvage this ship and you can join my crew" I offered "The data cores of this vessel might still hold valuable intelligence—star maps, logs, records of encounters. You know this ship better than anyone. Help us extract that information, and if don't wish to stay on my ship I can always arrange safe passage for you on another when we get the chance"
The Vulcan woman studied me, her sharp mind was no doubt calculating the odds. Trust was a fragile thing, even in this version of the Star Trek universe, but she wasn't in a position to say no to my offer.
"Very well," she said. "But make no mistake Captain Thrax—I do not trust you. And if you betray me, I will ensure you live long enough to regret it"
I chuckled upon hearing that, assumed by how she had the guts to threaten me to give her position. She wouldn't make it out of this room if I didn't allow it.
"That makes two of us" I stated.
With her aid stripping this ship of everything of value would become much easier and I had room for another pointy-eared woman in my life. Maybe I should start a collection of attractive alien women?
Rogue Trader
Part 5
The Endless Endeavour. The Ocampa System
Even for a Rogue Trader dynasty that had fallen upon hard times, as the Thrax Dynasty sadly had, it was important for a man in my position to create a good impression for important visitors and guests who might enter my chambers. Alas, that wasn't fully possible at the moment.
While the weapons lockers and arming chamber were empty of all but the most basic equipment—and would remain so until I began to claim some trophies—at least the parts most visitors would see retained a certain opulence, mostly due to all the gold used in decoration.
The main room, the first a visitor would see upon entering my private domain, served as both an audience chamber and a throne room. Here was where I would meet with people privately, in special audiences but the throne should not be the only notable feature of this grand space.
Once, this room had been filled with exotic items—displays that testified to the wealth of the Thrax Dynasty. I hoped to see such rare artefacts once again and to collect trophies of my conquests, both for purposes of admiration and as a reminder of my station.
"What is the purpose of this... display?" I heard T'Pol ask.
Mirror Universe T'Pol—though I wouldn't call her that as it was rather a mouthful—was eyeing the room's altar to the God-Emperor, adorned with images of Imperial Saints and other significant figures. It was there to give people the impression that I was pious, even if it was pointless as the Emperor didn't even exist in this universe.
Not that anyone in the crew was aware of this. They believed we had been thrown across the galaxy to some remote system due to some sort of warp fuckery. And since it looked as if we were stuck in this system—unless the Navigator figured out how to travel without the Emperor's great lighthouse in the Warp—that assumption might remain accepted for some time.
It should be possible for us to travel to other systems since the Warp was much calmer here than in the Warhammer 40k universe, likely due to the absence of the War in Heaven and there were no Eldar to murder-fuck She-Who-Thirsts into existence. But with no points of reference, we might be limited to short jumps through the Warp even with the star charts that I had been able to acquire.
"The shrine venerates the Emperor and those most favoured servants who have earned a place of honour," I explained.
Like Kes, who was currently relaxing in another room that served as a living area, T'Pol had been made to dress in slave-girl attire—a good reminder of her new position. Since the alternative to serving me was dying of starvation or suffocation in the wreck that had once been the ISS Enterprise, she was willing to obey, until she moved on.
The fact that I was even able to be in the same room as such an important Star Trek character, or rather her evil twin if that label worked, should have had me geeking out in joy. Alas, I could not afford to display such feelings, I must act per my role.
T'Pol's gaze lingered on the shrine, her expression unreadable. Vulcans were difficult to gauge at the best of times, and this version of T'Pol, drawn from a darker universe, was even more enigmatic. Yet when she attempted to present herself as placid as she looked at me I could sense that she was not as calm as she seemed thanks to my psychic talents.
"It is… elaborate," she finally said, her tone kept neutral.
The Imperial Creed was foreign to her, as alien as her own philosophies were to me. But faith in the God-Emperor of Mankind was not merely a matter of belief—it was the foundation of the Imperium, the guiding principle of all things. Whatever scepticism she might have, she would have to learn to at least pay lip service to the idea that a higher power watched over us.
"You will come to understand its importance," I said, stepping past her toward the throne. "Just as you will come to understand your place in this hierarchy if you stay that long".
Her posture stiffened, but she said nothing. She was intelligent enough to know her position here, and while I had no doubt she was assessing every angle, weighing every potential move, she would not challenge me openly. That said, if given the chance, she might very well leave and do so at a time when it best served her interests.
When the data-slate containing the Codex Celestial Program wanted my attention, I diverted it to the handheld device that contained it.
100 CP
+100 CP
200 CP
Bank or Roll?
I decided to bank some points rather than roll, figuring I needed about four hundred for the really good perks.
Once I was done with that a soft chime echoed through the chamber—a signal from the ship's internal vox system letting me know that someone wished to speak with me. I tapped a device on my throne, opening the channel.
"Yes?" I asked.
A reply was not long in coming.
"Lord-Captain Thrax," said an officer. "Your presence is required on the bridge".
If I was required, then this was part of my duty—something important rather than routine work.
"I'll be there in a moment," I replied before closing the vox channel.
As I rose from my throne, I looked to T'Pol. She remained still, watching me with that carefully neutral expression of hers until she decided to follow me as I strode toward the chamber's exit.
The ship's atmosphere was somewhat oppressive, its gothic corridors lined with elaborate engravings that were lit with dimmed lumen strips created a somewhat sinister impression, but I liked it, if only because it was all mine. Sure the whole ship had seen better days, but it was still a vessel of the Imperium, still mine to command.
The bridge of The Endless Endeavour was a cavernous space, filled with the crew who were working at their stations, as they worked they did make much noise, allowing me to hear the ever-present hum of cogitators processing vast amounts of data.
A great viewing window stretched before me, revealing the expanse of the Ocampa system—that currently seemed empty save for the distant glow of a yellow star. We were far from any planets and the debris field could not be seen from this vast viewport.
"Lord-Captain," an officer said, his voice clipped but respectful. "We've detected something on the long-range augurs".
That got my attention, as we had seemed to be the only ship around—or at least the only vessel moving about the system.
"Show me," I commanded.
The officer gestured toward a hololithic projector. A flickering image materialized above the device—a hazy outline that soon became clearer as the nearest tech-priest performed the Rite of Percussive Maintenance.
Spoiler
"That is a Kazon vessel," I noted.
The officer nodded in agreement. He and a few other members of the crew had seen similar small ships parked on the Ocampa planet back when we had been trading with them. That had been days ago and since then we'd made no contact with any Kazon.
"No ship that small can have a Warp Drive," stated another officer. "So it must be returning from a long patrol of the outer system".
They could have entered the system from another since vessels here were able to power what they called warp drives. That could get very confusing one day.
"Lord-Captain are moving toward us—and at a speed much greater than expected," reported a tech-priest. "Analysis suggests it is some sort of fast attack craft. Normally, it would pose no threat to us, but we are vulnerable until repairs are complete".
Which was why we were still so close to the debris field. We still needed the raw materials.
"They are hailing us, but the signal is weak," an officer reported.
We didn't have subspace communications, nor did the Kazon use holograms for communication, so I moved away from the main part of the bridge and over to a different station—one that made use of 2D screens.
After an officer pressed a few brass buttons, a poor-quality image of a Kazon man appeared.
"I am Jal Cosdam of the Kazon-Atok. Our sect has claimed this system," said the alien.
The Kazon-Ogla might have something to say about that—which I mentioned.
Jal Cosdam's face was partially obscured by static, but his sneer was unmistakable. The Kazon-Atok were not the dominant sect in this region—not as far as I knew. That honour belonged to the Kazon-Ogla. If this was an attempt to intimidate us, it was clumsy at best.
"I was under the impression that the Ogla controlled this system," I said, my tone measured but firm. "Did something change?"
Cosdam scowled at me. I didn't think he was used to people seeming so unconcerned when he spoke to them.
"The Ogla are weak. Their time is almost over" Cosdam said "The Atok rise, and this world—this system—now belongs to us".
I knew that the Kazon were known for their infighting, and normally I wouldn't care if they all killed each, other but if the Atok had gained the upper hand over the Ogla, that could complicate matters. Not that it changed our immediate situation.
"And what does this have to do with us?" I asked, "We have no quarrel with the Kazon-Atok"
Cosdam's lips curled into a smirk.
"That depends on your answer," he said.
"To what question?" I wondered.
Cosdam smiled before saying anything else.
"Will you surrender your ship and your technology to us, or we will take it by force?"
The bridge fell silent for a moment. Then, someone behind me let out a quiet, mirthless chuckle. I didn't even need to turn to know who it was—one of my more seasoned officers, a man who had seen far worse threats than a single Kazon vessel.
It was funny because, even in our weakened state, there was no way they could seize this ship by force—and this Jal would know that. Maybe was hoping to use the fact that we were vulnerable to force a surrender, or perhaps he would lie and claim that more ships were on the way. But I didn't think that was the case. I got the feeling this was an attempt at a scam.
Perhaps he would pretend to show mercy and offer to let us stay in their space in exchange for some sort of tribute. To no one's surprise, that was exactly what he did when I made the suggestion. When he agreed to accept tribute, I, in turn, allowed him to dock his small ship with mine upon his arrival.
"My lord, will you give in to the demands of this abhuman scum?" an officer dared to ask.
Rather than chastise the woman for speaking out of place—she wasn't high-ranking enough to get away with it—I just smiled at her.
"The fool has no idea who he is messing with," I said. "This Cosdam must think that just because we can't fire most of our weapons, that we are helpless".
A Tech-Priest spoke up, his tone respectful.
"My Lord, given the damage the frigate has sustained, perhaps Jal Cosdam believes this to be a civilian ship rather than a warship," offered the cyborg in red robes.
Imperial vessels did tend to pack a lot of people into their hulls. It was partly why I often thought of them as fortress-cities with engines. If the Kazon saw a very large and damaged ship it wasn't unreasonable for them to assume we might be refugees.
"If that's what he believes, then we should let him continue thinking that—at least until it's too late for him to learn the scale of his mistake," I said.
The officer who had spoken earlier seemed a little embarrassed. Now that she realised I had the situation well in hand.
"A trap, my lord?" she asked.
I smirked.
"We'll meet them, drive them off the ship and take their puny vessel, turning it into the raw materials we need".
The Kazon vessel was small, hardly a threat to even a damaged frigate. Their kind relied on scavenging and bullying the weak, but I knew their type all too well. They lacked discipline, tactics, or any real understanding of warfare beyond raiding and brute force. The Kazon-Atok were no different.
"Have a welcoming party prepared," I ordered. "Armed, but discreetly. Let them believe they are in control until our boarding parties are prepared".
The officer saluted and set off to relay my orders as I went to arm myself for this next event.Last edited: Feb 27, 2025 Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:Fantasyfan1764, Morgomir,