Subject: (Fanfic) Wages of Wrath 1.1 (Revised and improved) Date: Sun, 6 Oct 2002 02:18:40 -0700 From: "Colin'The Yosemite Bear'Witz" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.vs.starwars Wages of Wrath: Games of Chance & Skill Starbase: 2862 Observation/Trade Base near the Gorn/Federation Border. A Couple Thousand more Isseks and he could get Rebecca the Wedding he had envisioned. The human card game was known thought the quadrant, and Vash (as he liked to be called as apposed to his full Rigellian name) had been familiar with it long before he had entered the Academy. Growing up in the Bloodflower Syndicate, there was little room for males, so he had learned the craft of gambling quite early. Most of this boiled down to a height ened perception of emotion and bodylanguage. The Klingon captain was flush with too much wine, and his tells were more pronounced, touching his beard when his hands were good, rubbing the back of his skull ridge when he was bluffing. Vash had recently received a promotion up from Ensign despite his racial background because of his efficiency in security matters, his talent in reading people helped in this, there were only so many ways the quadrant's closely related species could try to cover deception, and he was an expert at all of them. Thus the game of "chance" had started out as a contest of skill, and was now becoming a slaughter, only a matter of time. Unfortunately time did not decide to play nicely with the young Starfleet officer. The familiar beeps of his Starfleet communicator cylinder at his belt chimed. "This is Vashtriklyn, over." he spoke into his hand. "Sir you have 5 minutes to get on board, immediate recall, something big's happening, and all leaves are cancelled." "I understand." he responded in his hosts native words as he gathered his winnings, and laid down his hand conceding the current round of play. the captain shouted as Vash and his fellow shipmate David Vasquez found themselves facing a dozen disruptors apiece. Conceding the point Vash returned to his seat. His hand was good but could be better. David tossed in a few Isseks, at a silent signal from his former roommate. The two V's had worked in concert since Starfleet Academy, and had poker down to an art. While Vasquez couldn't read pheromones, he had learned Orion slave codes. Bridge of the USS Ithaca "What's the status" Captain Haller's grimly asked "We have retrieved all of our personnel except Ensign Vasquez, and L.T. Vashstriklyn, they are presently onboard the Klingon ship, which raised it's shields at the same time as our alert and the general station alert came up."was the comm. officer's response. "We will have to leave them behind, the situation is worsening. About a day ago, Negotiations with our new neighbors the Cardassians have fallen apart, and the Gorn are sending subspace communications for our assistance. As of this moment Starfleet Command has placed all ships on High Alert, while they are examining what we can do to help our Allies." Over in sickbay Intern Rebecca Goldwin stared at the read out, once again confirming the impossible. Yes, conception between many other races within the Galaxy were possible, Such conceptions were rare and very difficult. With Orion's special geneticists would have to be called in, to prevent immune system conflicts, and other problems, considering how engineered the Orion Genome was, the standard federation medical facilities could never handle the discrepancies, only an outlaw genesplice banned in the federation because of the Eugenics wars could save this child. 24 Hours Later, The Gorn/Cardassian Border, Bridge of the Miranda Class Starship, USS: Ithaca An explosion, shattered another consol onboard the Ithaca, Her sister ship, the Sparta was already in flames. The sudden Cardassian Offensive had taken the Gorn by surprise, while the Gorn plasma weapons were the most devastating weapons in space un fortunately they took too long charging up. The devastating power of the weapons exceeded the ability of the warp reactors to properly power, as a result Gorn ships were eggs armed with very powerful hammers. Against the Numerically superior Cardassian vessels, the Gorn were being slaughtered. Before Captain Haller, the static filled screen, showed the First officer of the Sparta, bloodied uniform in rags. "We have--- on all decks, down to 40% weapons, 30% shields, and have lost Warp --- We have 20 torpedoes, but our launch---" Spoke Commander Pressman between cut outs "There's too many of them Retreat Sparta!" came Haller's response "If we could leave, I doubt they we would let us. Time for us to make a stand like our ship's name sakes. Time for them to 'Go tell the Spartans.'" came Pressman's reply. "It's going take more then that, we need more ships!"Yelled Haller "Sir, I am picking up a fluxuation, there's a number of ships decloaking!" came the comm. officer's response, almost in request The main battle screen showed a number of light raiders, being led by a single Klingon Ship. The new communication screen opening up showed a face that Haller, had thought he would never see again. "Greetings my captain, The Klingon's insisted I stay for the conclusion of the contest, I am now in possession of this ship, and spent a million Isseks, to convince these Orion free traders that keeping the Cardassians from complete control of these trade routes would be disadvantageous to their long range profits." Came the response from Lt. Vash. Small warp drones(Oversized photon torpedoes), and Phasors flicked out at the Cardassians. The sudden onslaught of new targets allowed the Gorn enough time to charge their heavy plasma batteries. The starfire completely consumed the cardassian ships that it struck. The Cardassians realized that the battle was turning against them and retreated. The Vulcan officer entered the brig area of Starfleet H.Q. his assignment to defend this young officer had been unexpected. Orion's and Vulcan's had been at odds since before the humans had domesticated animals. This war with the Cardassians was looking to turn ugly, The Gorn were fleeing to the Beta Quadrant behind Klingon lines. "I need to speak with my Client" the Vulcan told the guards, who conviently stepped away allowing him to talk to the Orion through the force shield. "Mr. Vashstrklyn my name is Tuvok, I have been appointed defense counsel for your Court Martial, do you have any information, that may help in your defense?" The Vulcan asked "I will make what ever deal they want, as long as Rebecca and David are not charged. I know I am going to be condemned no matter what, I am the Orion nephew of the woman who embarrassed one of the three Admirals who will be judging me." "I see, why don't you just file a motion?" Tuvok asked. Grinning Vash responded "So you want to know how to detect a lie without using a Mind Probe?" Elsewhere in another galaxy: Two years before ANH The Pirate raids had brought the Farsetter family and their company - Farsetter Transit of Centerpoint - to bankruptcy. Forcing them to sell all of their holdings and ships to XTS at a considerable loss. Still some members of the once proud merchant family had suffered more then others..... Centerpoint Station Still unconscious in the Bacta tank Krell was costing my uncle much more then he could afford, but as the last surviving witness to the Pirate massacre of 'The Wanderer' one of the newest and most expensive ships that had been left in the Farsetter fleet. He had seen his parents and friends killed, and managed to crawl into an courier Boat despite being critically wounded. When a small shuttle had picked him up and brought the passenger back everyone thought Krell was as good as dead. As it was Krell had lost both forearms to Gangrene and had been gutted. Officially Krell Farsetter was dead, however he would soon be a new person with a contract to the Bounty Hunter's guild. His eye's were still bandaged from their replacement, not for medical reasons, but to confirm my death. The eye's looked human enough, but were really compact sensors, Krell would be able to see in the night, far away, and even see through walls. One Year Later. He dressed quickly, the black mesh suit first, then the Belt and the Harness. Next came the light armor coat, and finally the Helmet. It was the mask that hides ones fear from others, and by betraying no emotion makes others see you not as a man, but as a force; In this case a force of Justice ... and Vengeance. Con Vance had once been a small time swoop racer, turned pirate, turned bandit. He frequented a cantina known as 'The Burning Droid', in the Gearad system, most of the clientele were known associates of the 'Mark' in question. Still He thought he could perform the capture, with minimal loss of life among any innocents that might be present, though that would be a small enough number. Con would be a start, Krell was not interested in stopping any time soon until the last of the Pirates who had killed his family had gone to hell. Walking in the Front door would just get you killed, there were too many and they were too well armed. Looking around the area he could sense some infrared traffic around the back. A group of Jawa's were rummaging through the waste. Krell handed one a med pack, the Jawa's could trade the Medic kit for some food or something, and it acted as a functional bribe. If he died he would not be needing it, and if he succeeded he could buy others. The creature's left him alone to cut through the grate. Afterwards he replaced the small plasma torch on the belt. It was a tight fit but Krell am a small person and could squeeze through the opening, albeit with some difficulty. The Fresher was occupied by a Twilek in gang colors, who spun around to face the hunter. Raising a hand the repulsor blast smashed him into the wall with a slight humming sound (once more silently thanking Uncle Marson for paying for a few augmentations to the replacement cybernetics.). Searching the body he found a shoddy blaster pistol, that was ok he wasn't planning on shooting it. Moving through the galley he placed the blaster into the buildings power converter, the blaster would overload and short out power in a few seconds, that would even the odds up some. Pulling a concussion grenade out of his armored jacket pocket He threw it with a little repulsor assist, sending the orb into the middle of the room seconds after the power shorted out. The wall in front of him turned red hot as plasma cooked it, other blaster bolts had managed to pierce the thick ceramic structure. Scanning the room in Thermal Krell recognized a few gang members (Small catches), good the light grenades charge had the civilians down and the Targets up, with one arm he fired around the corner, striking one of the bandits in the chest. In thermal vision he saw that one of the bandits was preparing to throw a grenade of his own. He fired two shots, one hit the gangster in the wrist, severing it, then he fired several shots into the area before jumping behind the wall again. The Heat blast from the dropped grenade killed a cluster of pirates, as well as a few civilians. Firing with one blaster in each hand Krell killed Bandits as they tried to charge around the corner. He dropped the empty, overheating blaster pistols on the floor. A Gammorean with a vibroaxe came charging around the corner a few seconds late, but moving like a runaway lifter. activating the holsters in the artificial arms launching a pair of hold-out Blasters into his hands. Firing six rounds into the big alien , Krell dropped him in an adrenaline rush. He had two more blasters, and 3 tangle grenades left. The micro-tractor repulsors in his arms would need time for his bodies natural EM field to regenerate it's power supply. Running, Krell leapt into the room, firing the last six shots in the holdouts for cover effect before rolling behind a table; just as the bandits blasted the card-dealer droid beside Him. Surrounded by burning metal and plastic Krell threw a tangle bomb over the table without looking, the plastiod ribbons would keep them busy for a few seconds. Pulling out the last two blasters and taking careful aim, he gunned down six more as they struggled with the plastiod mess. With more down Con made a break for the door. He was not getting away, as Krell shot Con's left leg out from under him, he wouldn't need it when they shoved him against a wall a week or so from now. Laying aside one pistol he pulled out another Tangle throwing it right into the laps of the bandits. Surveying the damage, Krell reloaded. The Jizz band had bought it during the crossfire, but they had been an insult to Jizz music anyway! Standing over the target he didn't notice Con's mistress, the Dancer, coming for his back until he was bent over and placing restraints on Con. The vibroknife cut through the long jacket, but he was already turning and the blade glanced off they bulky cybernetics instead. Firing a shot pointblank He disintegrated half the girl's head, cooking her brain, and rupturing her opposite eye with the excess heat transfer. The troopers came and hauled away the garbage, the bounty hunter was faced with a Captain of the Local Militia. He ranted about the number of 'Innocents' killed, in a foolhardy action.Still he paid quickly when asked. The curious thing about a Helmet; It makes one seem larger, not human, and doesn't betray little details, like the fact you wanted to be sick, the fact that you could not get the girls last seconds out of your mind or that you were so scared you needed to piss right then right now. Krell left the officer with him shouting for the hunter to get the hell off of his planet. The Economy berth's noisy but few people look his way, it's a pointed matter. You see the social rule, to deny the existence of artificial limbs, is to keep them from being noticeable. Krell's however are much bulkier, housing some combat enhancements; arms that look like they were salvaged off of a droid. The right one was still malfunctioning from a vibroblade injury a couple of weeks ago. Subsystems had begun to short out from the repairs he had made. The Repulsor coils were shorted and the eject mechanism had jammed shut just after the attack. In short it was in need of some serious reconstructive work and The Farsetter/Sonjou family no longer had the resources to repair much less replace them. While the battle had netted him some credits, Krell had made a lot of people angry with Him. His current I.D. showed him to be a former Imperial Army grunt, cashiered out for Injuries. The close-cropped hair and the arms fit the image. So he'd left the Gearad system for the shadow ports of the Sirrison system. Now, Sirrison can best be described as an Anarchy; Three Crime lords. A Hutt who runs the slavers guild, a so-called prince of the Swamp Rats, and some Ex-Military type ruling the port district. Now the only paying industries are Smuggling/Harvesting of the honey of one of the systems most deadly insects, and hunting the large reptiles for Food and hides. Considering the actual hide density involved, the Locals are better armed than the Imperial Militia. Not that they are too hot for this new Rebel Alliance that's people keep hearing about either. The inhabitants prefer to be left to their quasi-legal entertainments. The reason for heading there is because one can find some decent mechanics on-planet, mechanics who don't questions and who know what they are doing. The cabin had gotten dark, and he regrettably started to sleep, the past has a tendency to use my dreams to catch up with you. The images of the girl from two weeks back were blurring into someone who died over a year ago. No pysical or spiritual rest for the guilty, Krell was about to give up and open his eyes when the Liner shook and then once then again. This was no dream that was actual cannon fire! There was a crowd heading to the observation blister for a better look, Krell headed deeper into the vessel, making for the lower sections. The vessel was a good old KDY starliner, growing up in a space port the hunter knew ships better then most. The safest place to be right now would be deep within the belly, with as many airlocks and hull between me and the pirates out there. He opened an access conduit and levered Himself inside just as the airlock doors slammed shut, the magnetic shield warning voice sounding over the comms. Announcing to anyone who knew liners that the folks in the observation blister had gotten closer to the action than they had bargained for. Moving slowly at a half crawl He was heading to the cargo section, most of his gear was sealed up as per Imperial Law. Now, under an emergency he could access them and this qualified as an emergency in any book. About Thirty minutes later Krell had made my way to the central cargo area, It was late and he was not alone. Observing the cargo hold from the vent he found it swarming with Pirates, some human some alien. A big Trandoshan tossed the cargo master aside with a broken neck, the way he played with his trophy bowcaster made Krell nervous. The pirate crew was getting angry, there were three sealed lockers that could not be opened without either a good slicer or an Imperial order. One of them was Krell's. The pirates figured that there was something valuable in them, but were having no luck opening them. Checking his equipment stores; A short ranged Repulsor that still worked and a hold out blaster that was trapped inside an arm that _didn't_ work. While watching this action from his perch he spotted a commotion; the pirates had spotted a stowaway. The waif was maybe a young teen but couldn 't be much older. The kid was a good fighter, kicking one of the Pirates right between the legs and making a run for it. A bolt or two struck the crates behind the kid, as (s)he leapt to 'safety'. The kid was doomed though, there were too many of them and the kid was heading to a dead end, right near The hunter's nest Slipping down with one arm was hard, actually it was impossible, He fell and landed with a jolt that winded and sent feedback pain through the malfunctioning arm. He knew he had alerted the pirates to the presence of another interloper, and needed to do something fast. Krell saw that one of their blaster bolts had damaged the rigging holding the cargo crates in place. With a little patience he triggered The Repulsor generator just right and started an avalanche. The Trandoshan went berserk pinned by the falling luggage. Krell used the distraction to dive into an open floor panel and right on top of his fellow refugee. For over two hours, Kyrs and Krell worked our way deeper into the crippled ship. They needed the time, the repulsor generator takes about 30 minutes to recharge and the right arm was just getting worse! Kyrs turned out to be a girl and is alright, if a bit talkative for a liner tramp. They were resting up now and she has produced a toolkit and offered to fix his arms - if he tell her how he got them in the first place. Desperate and in no real position to turn her down so, getting comfortable he started to talk as she worked... The Past: As narrated by Krell Sonjou, First person) My parents had agreed to let me come with them for a full cargo run, eight months away from Centerpoint and its Schools. My sister would have to stay behind with relatives, when I found _that_ out I snickered and told her "Thats what you get for being the young one". She was annoyed at our parent 's favoritism of me over her, and claimed that I only got that privilege because I was a boy. The real reason was that with the down turn of business they needed all of the help that they could get. If I had known how hard they were going to work me, I would have not been so gleeful about it. Still there were some advantages to working on the ship; One of them was Xel. She was about a year older than me and like me, she worked in the engineering section under the watchful eyes of a Wookie named Dalsabragg. He kept us too busy to do anything; and too tired to do much more then sleep when we were done, but I still was naturally interested in her. (Hey watch it with that tool that HURT!, Ok, I will get back to how I lost the arms, damn but your a vindictive kid. Well, anyways this DOES figure into how I lost one of my arms.) I had this cousin named Tarn on the ship with me and while Xel was about a year older than us, she was somewhat distracting to us both in her own way. About three months out we had some Hyperdrive problems, seems someone had shipped us defective parts during the last overhaul, and being the smallest members of the engineering crew Xel and I were going to have to crawl into the maintenance shafts to reroute the power couplings. I was working under the floor while Xel was stretched halfway inside the Hyperdrive manifold. During all of this Tarn comes in with a Repulsor-sled full of parts, and sees nothing ahead of him but Xel's rear hanging out of the maintenance shaft. I had just finished with my connections and was climbing up, when Tarn's sloppy driving pushed the access panel closed on my left arm. Dalsabragg sent Tarn flying across the hold, ripped open the damaged hatch and had me in sick bay before I knew what was happening. The bones were crushed and broken but the arm would be all right as long as the Bacta in the cast was changed every twelve hours. Longer then 30 hours and the toxin build up would contaminate the Bacta allowing the wounds to become septic. Xel was furious at Tarn, because with me on light duty it meant that she would have to do extra work; So furious in fact she gave me a get well kiss that drove Tarn up the wall. Well while Xel had gotten the systems back online, I was in the engineering control, monitoring. As we prepared to activate the Hyperdrive the energy systems back fed, blowing out more components, we were going to need some new parts and work at an actual station. The nearest one had a rather unsavory reputation so naturally Xel, Tarn and I were all for exploring it. Unfortunately I was on Medical restriction, Tarn was still grounded by 'Dals' and Xel was too busy to take advantage. The crew at the station were friendly with us kids, almost too friendly. They got the engine working again, my biggest problem with them was the way they were being so nice to Tarn, and the way they looked at Xel. So bidding the Station a fond farewell we headed out to make up for lost time. We were half way to our next stop, when the proximity alarms went off - A mass shadow that shouldn't be there! We came out of hyperspace and into an ambush. The Pirates boarded the ship; my father stood there and ordered us to make the cargo available to them, it was insured and wasn't worth the life of his crew. We thought we were going to survive, until they came to Xel. The Leader of the Pirates smiled and pronounced that he would be taking the Wookie and the Girl as slaves. Tarn and Dals exploded into action with the rest of us a fraction of a second behind. A rocket pistol shot Tarn right to the groin, he lay there screaming in agony as the flame burnt his thighs, waiting for it to explode but it was a dud. My parents died next and one of the aliens clawed my belly open. I just laid there and watched in impossibly slow motion, as the great Wookie took blaster after blaster bolt before dieing. There from the floor I saw Xel; she was the last to fall. She'd wrested a blaster from one of the pirates, killing him. However the leader had just raised an outstretched hand and lightning shot from his metal fingers. She fell and was still. The villains walked away from the massacre they had caused and moved on to the cargo. I knew that there was a small courier craft in the rear sections, the unarmed ship had medical supplies and a working Hyperdrive. If I could get to the ship I could be safe. As quietly as I possible I got up and held my stomach in with my injured hand. With care I grabbed a spare Bacta pressure bandage and applied it to my wound, I felt like screaming but I didn't. However it was then that I realized Xel was just stunned. I couldn't just leave her there, so I partially carried her while trying to make my way to the courier boat. We almost made it! Xel had started to come around when we got to the boat bay, there were guards but we made a run for it anyway. I got in and reached for her, but a blaster bolt shot my good arm. Xel slammed her fist on the emergency panel and the droid pilot took over from there. The Pirate got a glancing hit on the boat, but we made it into Hyperspace just fine. The only problem was that the ships communication relay had been damaged, and I had no free hands to administer/change the Bacta on my wounds. "So does this mean that she could still be alive?" Kyrs asked. "No." Krell replied more in hope then in any secure knowledge, those the pirates had not spaced were doubtlessly sold as slaves. "Well I got those relays reconnected, I wouldn't suggest using that Repulsor, it would blow the whole rig. Oh and I was able to reattach a lever arm." Krys stated mater-of-factly "Huh?" "See." She zapped the arm causing a mild sensation of pain and launching The hold out blaster into his hand. Things were looking up for him, and the kid, and had just gotten worse for the scum.