- CHAPTER 27 -
- Captain Zathran's Quarters Onboard Alliance Station 338, 20 minutes later -
The quarter's door opened to admit the young Lyran officer. Staring out the room's large window was the human prisoner he was honor bound to protect. Dorothy Chambers wore not the black and silver of the Imperial Starfleet, but a simple yet elegant dress of golden yellow. It had been simple enough to arrange quite a selection of clothing for her, as Lyran space was a Terran domain and had been such for close to 107 years. Most of the Terran clothing available locally was manufactured either by replicator or was hand made by Lyran slaves. The handmade variety was considerably more expensive than the replicated clothing, and was always in demand on the more cosmopolitan Terran worlds.
"Milady." Zathran's cat fight set to bagpipes speech was converted to a deep base voice by Dorothy's universal translator.
"Don't Milady me buster!" She said as she turned on him. "First you bust up my ship, then you hold me here against my will, and your ships, heck this station as well, are all death sentences to any found on them. You should know that much at least. Destroying Imperial property is also punishable by death. Physically handling a Terran without their consent can get you seven hours in an agonizer. I've lost track of just how many rules you have broken!" Dorothy said as she closed to within a few feet of the Lyran, her fisted hands digging into her hips. "You should give me up now, heck I'll even throw in a good word for you that may spare your family the same fate that awaits you." It occurred to Dorothy that taking the antagonistic path might not be the best way to make friends, but there was nothing in her training that had prepared her for the aftermath of being ambushed. This sector of Terran space was supposed to be totally docile and under control. Its natives weren't supposed to possess tech that would let them beat a modern Imperial patrol ship. Yet no one had apparently informed the natives of what they were supposed to have. They had a formidable force stationed at this base, and while she would have loved to believe that it was the only one, the officer in her said otherwise. This base, large though it was, wasn't the rebel's main center. There were far to many escort and light units transiting past her view port. While they could only have light units in their hidden fleet, their proportions weren't jiving with what a guerilla force would field. These ships looked more like the screen for a much heavier contingent of capital ships.
All of this posed a quandary to everything she had come to believe and cherish. She had been raised as the stereotypical spoiled daughter of a powerful political family. Heck before her father had taken a seat on the Terran Council, he had been head of Section 31. That gave him an even larger power base than many of the other Councilors had, and he had used it as much as possible to benefit himself and his family. As a result of this, Dorothy was both used to getting things done her way and when she wanted them done. She was also largely blind to the realities of the universe. While she heard of the occasional cowardly raid by conquered alien species on Terrans, she had never truly realized just what that had meant. Seeing this base and its attached fleet, she was beginning to suspect that official sources were nearly as far off from the reality as she had been. This shattering of her carefully enshrined belief that the Terran Empire was all seeing and all knowing was what drove her to the offensive. That was nearly the only way she knew how to tackle a problem, attack it head on with as much force as possible. And it gave her an easy way to cover up the stark terror that she was feeling at being captured by hostile and powerful aliens.
Zathran chuffed in soft laughter. The sight of a small, unarmed Terran facing down a seven foot tall, adult Lyran who was also highly skilled in unarmed combat (if you could ever call a Lyran equipped with natural finger length claws and a carnivores jaw and teeth unarmed) was just so ludicrous that he couldn't help himself. His nose told him the true reason behind this outburst, for despite never letting it show on her face, he could smell her terror plain as day. "Milady, why do you persist in making idle threats? It is neither I nor my kin are the prisoner here, it is you who is captured. As such, you cannot make any demands of us about Terran law. Besides soon Terran law in this area of space won't matter much. If all goes well, you will most likely be returned to your people after the end of hostilities. If not, you will prove a valuable bargaining piece between my peoples and yours. It is not every day that a cub of a Council member is delivered to us as you were."
Thank God for that, Dorothy thought, for if it was, there wouldn't be much of the Empire left. But did the kitties have enough fire power to remove the Terrans from their space? They certainly seemed confident in said ability, but many an army had ridden off to utter destruction confident in their ability to defeat their opponent. "But."
"Enough!" Zathran snarled, putting just enough menace in his tone and posture to close her latest retort with a snapping jaw. All defiance seemed to drain out of Dorothy and she wilted before him. "I have not the time to waste it here arguing with you. Your fate will be decided one way or the other today. I have come only to warn you. If you attempt to leave this room, you will be killed. Do you doubt me? Merely look back at what your people have done to we Lyrans. There are untold numbers of us on this station that wouldn't hesitate to kill a Terran. You must stay here if you want to remain safe. Everything you need you can get from the replicator. I have had an engineer reprogram it to accept input in English. I must go now, but I say again, remain here for your own safety." Then he turned on his heel and left his quarters. He truly hoped that Miss Chambers would stay in her quarters, for what he had told her was mostly true. There were many Lyrans that would indeed not hesitate nor bat an eye at killing a Terran if one was within their reach. Then he shook off his worries about his charge. His personal guard had been stationed outside the door and the emergency access and maintenance shafts leading from the room had been sealed with a plasma welder. She would be safe enough till his victorious return, and he needed his mind focused on the upcoming battle.
- Captain Zathran's Quarters Onboard Alliance Station 338, 20 minutes later -
The quarter's door opened to admit the young Lyran officer. Staring out the room's large window was the human prisoner he was honor bound to protect. Dorothy Chambers wore not the black and silver of the Imperial Starfleet, but a simple yet elegant dress of golden yellow. It had been simple enough to arrange quite a selection of clothing for her, as Lyran space was a Terran domain and had been such for close to 107 years. Most of the Terran clothing available locally was manufactured either by replicator or was hand made by Lyran slaves. The handmade variety was considerably more expensive than the replicated clothing, and was always in demand on the more cosmopolitan Terran worlds.
"Milady." Zathran's cat fight set to bagpipes speech was converted to a deep base voice by Dorothy's universal translator.
"Don't Milady me buster!" She said as she turned on him. "First you bust up my ship, then you hold me here against my will, and your ships, heck this station as well, are all death sentences to any found on them. You should know that much at least. Destroying Imperial property is also punishable by death. Physically handling a Terran without their consent can get you seven hours in an agonizer. I've lost track of just how many rules you have broken!" Dorothy said as she closed to within a few feet of the Lyran, her fisted hands digging into her hips. "You should give me up now, heck I'll even throw in a good word for you that may spare your family the same fate that awaits you." It occurred to Dorothy that taking the antagonistic path might not be the best way to make friends, but there was nothing in her training that had prepared her for the aftermath of being ambushed. This sector of Terran space was supposed to be totally docile and under control. Its natives weren't supposed to possess tech that would let them beat a modern Imperial patrol ship. Yet no one had apparently informed the natives of what they were supposed to have. They had a formidable force stationed at this base, and while she would have loved to believe that it was the only one, the officer in her said otherwise. This base, large though it was, wasn't the rebel's main center. There were far to many escort and light units transiting past her view port. While they could only have light units in their hidden fleet, their proportions weren't jiving with what a guerilla force would field. These ships looked more like the screen for a much heavier contingent of capital ships.
All of this posed a quandary to everything she had come to believe and cherish. She had been raised as the stereotypical spoiled daughter of a powerful political family. Heck before her father had taken a seat on the Terran Council, he had been head of Section 31. That gave him an even larger power base than many of the other Councilors had, and he had used it as much as possible to benefit himself and his family. As a result of this, Dorothy was both used to getting things done her way and when she wanted them done. She was also largely blind to the realities of the universe. While she heard of the occasional cowardly raid by conquered alien species on Terrans, she had never truly realized just what that had meant. Seeing this base and its attached fleet, she was beginning to suspect that official sources were nearly as far off from the reality as she had been. This shattering of her carefully enshrined belief that the Terran Empire was all seeing and all knowing was what drove her to the offensive. That was nearly the only way she knew how to tackle a problem, attack it head on with as much force as possible. And it gave her an easy way to cover up the stark terror that she was feeling at being captured by hostile and powerful aliens.
Zathran chuffed in soft laughter. The sight of a small, unarmed Terran facing down a seven foot tall, adult Lyran who was also highly skilled in unarmed combat (if you could ever call a Lyran equipped with natural finger length claws and a carnivores jaw and teeth unarmed) was just so ludicrous that he couldn't help himself. His nose told him the true reason behind this outburst, for despite never letting it show on her face, he could smell her terror plain as day. "Milady, why do you persist in making idle threats? It is neither I nor my kin are the prisoner here, it is you who is captured. As such, you cannot make any demands of us about Terran law. Besides soon Terran law in this area of space won't matter much. If all goes well, you will most likely be returned to your people after the end of hostilities. If not, you will prove a valuable bargaining piece between my peoples and yours. It is not every day that a cub of a Council member is delivered to us as you were."
Thank God for that, Dorothy thought, for if it was, there wouldn't be much of the Empire left. But did the kitties have enough fire power to remove the Terrans from their space? They certainly seemed confident in said ability, but many an army had ridden off to utter destruction confident in their ability to defeat their opponent. "But."
"Enough!" Zathran snarled, putting just enough menace in his tone and posture to close her latest retort with a snapping jaw. All defiance seemed to drain out of Dorothy and she wilted before him. "I have not the time to waste it here arguing with you. Your fate will be decided one way or the other today. I have come only to warn you. If you attempt to leave this room, you will be killed. Do you doubt me? Merely look back at what your people have done to we Lyrans. There are untold numbers of us on this station that wouldn't hesitate to kill a Terran. You must stay here if you want to remain safe. Everything you need you can get from the replicator. I have had an engineer reprogram it to accept input in English. I must go now, but I say again, remain here for your own safety." Then he turned on his heel and left his quarters. He truly hoped that Miss Chambers would stay in her quarters, for what he had told her was mostly true. There were many Lyrans that would indeed not hesitate nor bat an eye at killing a Terran if one was within their reach. Then he shook off his worries about his charge. His personal guard had been stationed outside the door and the emergency access and maintenance shafts leading from the room had been sealed with a plasma welder. She would be safe enough till his victorious return, and he needed his mind focused on the upcoming battle.