Section 31 Director: Aleksandr Romyev Dunross "A Good Day to Die"

Posted on 241708.27 @ 7:41pm by Captain Aleksandr Dunross

Mission: Reconciliation & Reconstruction [Fleet Plot]

A cloud of blue-gray smoke hovered around Aleksandr’s face as if he was emitting steam. He was steamed, furious more likely. He erased the surveillance from all records. He didn’t need them anymore. He’d seen what he needed to see, even if it was what he did not want to see. Aleksandr closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, contemplating his next move. There was a simple solution to the whole affair, and quick death would serve his purpose. If he were a different man, an execution order would have been sent, but some things you do by yourself. He closed off his office and set the lights to minimal illumination and closed his eyes. He needed to think, to plan this out right, leave no room for error. He mused on how many ways he could kill a man, Aleksandr puffed on his cigar, twirling a stiletto knife on his desk. So when the chime sounded to disrupt his meditation, he let his displeasure verbal known.

“This better be good,” Aleksandr growled, “I left instructions to not be disturbed.”

“I’m sorry Director,” came the voice of his chief aide, “But we have news that you must see.”

“I must?” Aleksandr asked, not relenting against the interruption one bit. “What is this news that I must see about?”

There was a long audible pause over the comm. Aleksandr wanted to smile but looked cooly on, embracing his fury like a snug warm blanket in the middle of a Russian winter. He knew that his aide was evaluating the news to confirm it was worth the effort and the risk of getting her head bitten off. He sense the exhale of breath and indeed did smile as he heard his aide continue.

“Yes, Director, it is about those responsible for the attack on Admiral Red.”

Aleksandr smile dropped from his face before he sat up and leaned over his desk, in full business mode. “What is it that you have?”

“We have located a possible nest of that the perpetrators have carved out for themselves in Klingon space,” his aide said, “I have evaluated the information we have gathered and it seems to be a legitimate target of operations.”

“Very well,” Aleksandr said, “send to my console and I shall review it. In the meantime, ready the Ballon Rouge, I do not want to waste time if this proves to be true.”

“Yes, Director,” his aide said, “It is already being done.”

“Da,” Aleksandr replied, closing the link and brought up the information on this pirate hole they may have found in Klingon space. The smile did return for a moment as he had been contemplating killing someone. It would have been an impossible task, now, he may be able whet his appetite after all.

K'Kehla Hurgas sat with her heavy boots on the table in their makeshift mess hall, chair was tilted back and straining under her weight, creaking with each movement. Her arms crossed over her generous chest and she watched the band of restless merchants with narrowed eyes buried under a ridged forehead. They had been camped out in an old mining station, tucked into the pock marked asteroid, their ships hovering nicely in the holes in the large mass. The Urtraghus had sent the pup and his message, but disappointedly the boy had not done enough. The pirate group knew that they would be hunted and dispersed, moving to various locations they had to lay low.

Hurgas was managing to try and keep this group under control, but they were getting restless, fights were breaking out. She watched two men a table away pushing each other and one of them balled up his fist, about to strike.

In a move faster than her body size should allow, she swung her legs off the table and shot up from her chair, her gloved fists slamming down onto the table, requiring the attention of everyone present to turn towards her. “jagh yIbuStaH” She yelled out and waited for the translator to spit out what she said to all the various races present. “You are wasting your energy on fighting each other, you should be plotting a defense strategy for each of your ships when they come looking for you. They will be coming too.”

The effort had her breathing heavy and a bead of sweat formed on her bony forehead, her meaty hand swiped up a mug of warm bloodwine, gulping the contents down and belching loudly before tossing the empty mug across the table. “You disgust me, fighting about loss of profits like the Ferengi.” The last word had her snarling.

When the Ballon Rouge left Cold Station Theta, it immediately cloaked and headed for Klingon space. Aleksandr did not bother asking for permission from the Klingons to enter their space. He’d been in and out many times without notice, under cloak or via holoemitter, this was not his first incursion for a hunt. He smiled that. Hunched over, elbows on his knees as he twirled a engraved double-headed battle ax on the deck of the bridge, Aleksandr was indeed on the hunt. Some one had to pay for the audacity and the stupidity of attacking a Starfleet Admiral on her own station.

“Entering Klingon space, Director,” the navigation officer alerted.

“Very well, proceed to the targeted destination, Engage the slipstream drive,” Aleksandr said, he wanted to get there as soon as possible, time was of the essence.

K’Kehla was tired of dealing with the children in the mining station mess hall. She grabbed her pants and heaved them up above her hips, then yanked her armor plated tunic down before lumbering down the metal grated corridor towards her own ship.

She checked in at her bridge, clipped the back of the head of a young klingon who was manning the tactical station, his eyes heavy with sleep, chin down. “Wake up! Any ships in the system?”

He snapped back to attention, pissed he’d been caught snoozing at his duty station, he checked scanners and said, “Nothing Cap.”

She nodded, “Stay awake, it’s been quiet, but the federation is not stupid and they will retaliate. It might not be our base, but they will come and retaliate. We poked a sleeping bear.”

Hurgas grunted as she glanced around at the rest of the skeleton crew. “Contact me if there is anything out of place.” She started off to her quarters just off the bridge, flopping down on a hard slab that served as her bed.

Aleksandr spend the last hours of travel pacing the bridge. Stomping back and forth, with his double-bladed battle ax on his shoulders, he was anxious about getting back into the fray. Years passed since he’d been in a combat situation and one the required close quarters fighting skills. He felt that he could fight, but it has been a long time since he felt the heat of battle and the sight of his ax slicing through someone. It was time to redeem that mishap. His nostrils flared in excitement as imagined hacking down an opponent.

“Approaching target’s location,” the navigator said.

Aleksandr smiled as he approached the helm from behind as the starship exited a wormhole and entered real space before moving at sublight speed. “On screen, let’s see what we have here.”

All eyes were drawn to the asteroid taking up center stage before them. It was as their information told them. Without being told, Aleksandr knew that his tactical and ops officers bathed the area with full set of scans, registering all information the rock had for them to glean. They registered all sorts of activity and as Aleksandr order the movement at one-quarter impulse speed, and parked the Ballon Rouge at the disguised entrance, found by the scans.

“Get all boarding parties ready,” Aleksandr said as he moved to the turbolift. “At my signal, unleash hell on these bastards.”

Aleksandr met with his four teams of assault troops, geared in armored combat suits, each one agents of Section 31 and according to Federation documentation, officially dead. This was what was required to protect the Federation from all enemies, sometimes even your life. He did not check a phaser pistol, nor a carry a rifle. He did not plan on using any of those, except his battle ax. As they stormed about the asteroid. Aleksandr planned on hacking away at any one not in combat armor.

K’Kehla was on her bunk, arm flung over her face, a rumbling snore emitted from her rotund figure, reverberating throughout her quarters. The asteroid shook and rumbled and her ship, attached to the mining station shook with it. The klaxons blared and woke her from sleep with a roar of surprise and excitement at the thought of battle. Her graying hair was no longer braided and swung freely as she charged from her bunk, grabbing a disruptor and slapping it into a holder on her thigh and snatching her bat’leth from the wall, her D’k tahg already in her boot.

She charged to the bridge and was told the situation, they were boarded and being attacked from a ship. It did not meet any known Starfleet configurations, Hurgas looked at her first officer and said, “Start to undock the ship as soon as I’m clear. Take her out and fight with honor. Tear these pigs up.”

Her first officer called out, “Where are you going?” She had a snaggle tooth snarl on her face as she proclaimed, “To seek glory in combat. Follow my orders, order all the other ships out of the asteroid, attack that ship!”

She spun her bat’leth and charged to the docking sleeve and back onto the station, opening a comm channel and saying, “Undock, fire on them, tear them up!”

K’Kehla felt her blood boil in a rage and excitement she hadn’t experienced in far too many years. Her feet were heavy as she jogged through the station, looking for targets, seeing a squad of armor covered soldiers, they were mostly human, but did not wear Starfleet uniforms. She slipped behind a bulkhead and emerged behind them, her bat’leth coming over her shoulder to swing down in a sickening plunge into flesh and bone, piercing the brain. She was quick, using powerful and practiced muscles to pluck the tip of the weapon out and strike laterally into a slight opening at the collar of a squad mate next to him before the other two had even reacted.

In a way, Aleksandr had always favored the Klingons above any other non-human species. Facing off with an enemy with honor was ideology that he could subscribe to. When the first clash happened, Aleksandr was still making his way into the asteroid hideout. He steadied himself as the Ballon Rouge continued its barrage that caused the station to shake. His first blood was a Klingon that charged at him with a bat’leth. Aleksandr grinned as he met the down stroke of the bat’leth with a thrust of his double-headed battle ax and allowing the momentum carry his arm over into a powerful down stroke of his own. The slick crack of the breakage of cranial ridges cause the Klingon to staggered before Aleksandr finish him off with another swing, slicing diagonally from the shoulder down to the groin. After kicking free of the dying Klingon, Aleksandr looked for another.

“This is the Director,” Aleksandr said over the comlink, “Kill them all.”

The station was shaking violently and she was tossed hard into a rock wall, bruising her shoulder, but the fall allowed her easy access to grab her D’k tahg, using her bat’leth to shield her exposed side as she came up with her dagger to dig into the guts, finding an exposed bend joint of his armor of another squad member. His friend clocked her with the butt of a rifle and Hurgas slipped the bloodied dagger into her cleavage as she pawed both sides of the bat’leth grip and brought it up to strike his chin hard knocking him back, but he pulled up his phaser rifle, stunned enough to miss his shot.

They both hit the grated metal flooring and rocks and dust came down from the asteroid’s natural walls K’Kehla recovered first, kicking him hard in the face before plunging her bat’leth into his neck.

“Status report!?” She cried out to her commlink, breathing heavily and satisfied, though the station was being hit repeatedly. Her first officer reported, “The station won’t hold, they are trying to take it down.”

“Take out that ship! Hit them with everything.” She grabbed the railing as the asteroid was hit again knowing that she may not see another day a grin spread across her face as she went hunting again. K’Kehla saw a man, dark and angry hefting a double-headed battle axe. She laughed at the site, never seeing a human carrying such a weapon. The laugh came from deep within her torso and she grinned, “You came with an axe, you must want to die.”

Aleksandr heard the challenge as he dispatched another Klingon and grinned with the ferocity of a saberwolf. Now here was a righteous challenge he thought. He handled his battle ax in a two-handed grip and charged forward. He ignored the battering his ship was infliction on the station and forgot the teams of agents that spread out to wreak havoc. He didn’t waste time with words, he had no time for them. As soon as he got within range, Aleksandr swung his battle ax in another downward diagonal motion.

The clash of hardened metal rang out as his stroke was met with a bat’leth. Aleksandr grunted as he pushed off from the female Klingon before coming in for another swing.

He had a hard swing and obviously knew how to handle the axe, she held her block until he pulled away and then watched his hips to see what his next move would be. There was the slightest movement of his hip to indicate his direction and she lifted her bat’leth again, grunting at the strength required to hold the block above her head just in front of her. The metal scraped together and K’Kehla shifted weight to her front leg, pushing the axe off the curve of her bat’leth with a twist of her hips towards the wall, but her back foot came up and stomped into the outside of his forward knee. Her round body followed the twist of her hips and spun backwards out of his reach as she brought her bat’leth up to strike him, hoping he was still recovering from the knee strike.

Aleksandr stumbled as his knee buckled. While he managed to stop himself from falling, he did not recover in time to prevent the strike coming up that landed in the center mass of his body. The shock of the point of the bat’leth piercing his body cause him to shiver. He smiled, knowing he was going to die. Instead of resigning to the situation, Aleksandr grabbed his opponent, bring her close to him. In his arrogance, the choice to not wear body armor was his undoing. However, he had a nice revenge for the pirates that inhabited this floating rock. With one last order delivered over an open comlink, Aleksandr had his ship cloak after launching a salvo of tricobalt torpedoes.

Aleksandr held on to the female Klingon with an iron grip, smiled at her and whispered in Klingon, “Today is a good day to die.”

She could only grin back at this arrogant, doomed man, he seemed as much at peace with his fate as she was with hers. Her last site with eyes wide open, welcoming the journey to Sto’Vo’Kor she called out, “Heghlu'DI' mobbe'lu'chugh QaQpu' Hegh wanI'” (Death is an experience best shared).

They stared into each other eyes as a flash of light and heat tore them them, the station and asteroid quickly disappearing into billions of pieces spread across the area of space that it used to occupy.

Marise Gaines looked on as the asteroid blew into a million pieces. She exhaled slowly and took soft steps to the center chair. She looked at it, noting the china tea cup still recessed in the large armrest, before sitting down. The ship held it’s own and while there was damage to be repaired, they still were able to cloak. “Set course to Cold Station Theta,” Marise commanded, wondering who the next director would be.


End Log

Aleksandr Romyev Dunross
Section 31
Deceased.
&
K’Kehla Hurgas
Ship Commander
Urtraghus Pirate Group