Victory is life.
The thought surged through Storgrath's mind over and over. He lived to serve the Founders. But the Founders were gone. The Jem'Hadar paused for a moment to consider the thought.
If the Founders are gone, whom do I serve? The target flinched. It tried to escape. That was not acceptable. Defeat is not an option.
Quickly, Storgrath stopped the fleeing target by placing a firm hand upon the Zofchak's stopped dead in its tracks and turned around to finally look death in the eye.
"What do you want?"
The Breen leader intervened and released Storgrath's grip on the target. He showed Dustin a Federation communication device before closing it in his gloved hand. "Isn't it obvious?" the Breen sneered through the voice being simulated by the translator in the communicator. "We want you."
"Me? Why?" Dustin exclaimed.
"The Breen have acquired the ability to clone new Jem'Hadar. But we require them to be efficient in defeating human targets. You are human. Using the cloning facilities, and your DNA sequences, we have extrapolated a Jem'Hadar which can summarily destroy any human target with maximum efficiency."
"But you also need Ketracel White," Zofchak said. "That's why you've invaded Sineron."
"It is. Soon, the Breen will have enough White to command legions of Jem'Hadar soldiers. What the Dominion started, the Breen shall finish. And we will start with you." Thot Lor gazed at his creation. "Storgrath, destroy him."
Moments later, Lor dropped the communicator on the floor and crushed it with the heel of his boot. As the delicate device shattered, Storgrath grinned. He turned to Zofchak and resumed his attack.
As the Starfleet officer burst down into the bowels of the ship, Thot Lor grinned mercilessly behind his mask.
Humans were weak and foolish, and they deserved every bit of agony inflicted upon them by the Jem'Hadar. Once this human was disposed of, the other four hostages should make for an equally interesting time.
Suddenly, one of Lor's subordinates approached him.
"Yes?" he inquired, turning his attention away from the hunt.
"Thot Lor," said the officer quietly, as if to keep from drawing attention to himself. "The Federation ship is moving. Heading zero-seven-six mark one."
The coordinates did not surprise Lor. "The planet," he bemoaned. "I had hoped to take the ship with its crew in tact for additional combat training for the Jem'Hadar. We will have to select a different target for that purpose."
"Then what are your orders?"
"Set an intercept course, destroy them."
"The Breen are coming about," Moran reported from the helm.
"They're locking weapons," Perim added a moment later.
Allensworth nodded. He had been anticipating such a maneuver. They wouldn't just let them waltz down to the planet's surface and reclaim the away team without a fight. But little did the Breen know what tricks were still up Allensworth's sleeve.
The Alexandria might take a minor beating, but given the crew's confidence about this plan, Allensworth was certain they would succeed in at the very least, keeping the Breen on their toes. "Evasive maneuvers, Ensign," he ordered before rising to his feet. "How far are we from the atmosphere?"
"About 300,000 kilometers," Hoyt said.
Allensworth slowly approached the Ensign from behind. "Have you ever flown anything larger than a shuttle into a planet's atmosphere?"
Moran smiled. "Not exactly," she admitted. "But, I am fully versed in the procedure."
"Being versed and being adept are two different things, Lieutenat," Allensworth reminded him. "Good luck."
Moran returned her attention to the controls. "Thank you, Captain," she mused.
Allensworth hastily returned to his command chair. "Steady as she goes!"
Dustin raced through the haphazard corridors of the Breen ship. Some lurched, twisted and turned, while others seemed to go on a straight path forever. But they were all drenched with an eerie green hue, and none of them provided ample cover from the rampaging Jem'Hadar several meters behind him. Zofchak would duck into a corridor, Storgrath was right behind him. He would try to double-back and loose the Jem'Hadar, but somehow, the vile hunter always ended up in front of him. But this wouldn't continue for much longer, and Dustin knew it. He was worn and tired. His feet ached, his back felt broken, and his heart felt as if it was about to leap out of his chest.
Furthermore, he had that annoying dry feeling in his mouth. Unfortunately, rest was not currently an option being presented by the Jem'Hadar. It was do or die. As he trotted through the corridors, Dustin could hear Storgrath drawing closer. He looked for a way out, or anything that could give him the advantage, if only for a moment. All he needed was a minor diversion. But nothing showed itself.
As a pale blue aura filled the bridge, Allensworth could feel the exosphere beginning to counter the Alexandria's shields. The viewscreen portrayed that feeling in an even more dramatic measure, since little more than a few stars could be seen amidst the glowing oranges and yellows of the descending starship. But so far, Moran seemed to be performing her duties more than adequately, as their ride had been a more or less smooth one. Marred by only one or two instances of turbulence, the Lieutenant's piloting skills seemed to be in perfect condition.
When suddenly, the ship was rocked by a massive explosion on its shields. The lights flickered momentarily, and Allensworth swerved about haphazardly before everything calmed down. "Report?" he demanded.
"It's the Breen," Perim said. "They've opened fire."
"Divert all auxiliary power to dorsal shielding," Allensworth ordered. "We don't have time to go and play with the Breen."
They fired again. This time, their burst of teal energy sailed past the Alexandria and plowed straight into the surface. The resulting explosion was hardly visible from this height, but given the fact that it was visible at all, indicated to Allensworth that the Breen weren't throwing rocks. He pressed a button on his arm panel "Can you get a lock on them yet, Hilary?" he asked.
Kazarick stood in the transporter room with the transporter chief toggling the controls.
"Not yet, sir" she said. "But I've got sensor readings…" Her voice trailed off upon seeing the readings.
"What?"
"I'm picking up four comm signals." She said.
"Can you get a lock on them?"
"I'm trying," Kazarick said amidst a barrage of error messages. "But we're still too far away. The Breen's dampening field is still too strong. We have to get closer."
"Boost the annular confinement beam," Allensworth suggested.
"No effect," Kazarick shot back. "We're going to have to descend even further!"
"Do it," Allensworth ordered, realizing they were in too deep now to turn back. They had nothing to lose, except five senior officers. And so, he sighed, and watched the Alexandria's descent into the planet known as Mirai Three.
Dustin Zofchak knew it would be too much longer before Storgrath would catch up with him. In fact, he believed the Jem'Hadar was attempting to lull him into a false sense of security by leaving him alive for this long. Dustin knew he would try something along those lines, and so, why wouldn't Storgrath? Panting furiously for breath, Dustin could feel the skin of evil bearing down upon him like a great, ominous force. Along with that sense of impending doom was a heightened sense of awareness. The adrenaline flowing throughout his body was giving way to the primal senses that drove every human being in a dire situation such as this. It was no longer Dustin in control, it was instinct. And instinct, in its infinite, great wisdom sent Dustin into a dark corridor nearby. It was a dead end.
For a moment, Dustin's better judgment took over, wondering why he had just doomed himself. But in that brief moment of clarity, he spotted a loose computer panel on the wall. If this ship were like any other, there would be a large dose of voltage behind that panel. Quickly, Zofchak scurried over to the loose panel and pried it from the wall. Behind it were a cacophony of conduits and similarly organic counterparts used to accommodate the organic parts of the ship. But he had no idea what conduit to pick. The flashing blue one looked tempting, but so did the shimmering red one running parallel to it. Ultimately, he chose the conduit most reminiscent of the rest of the ship, the murky green one running adventitiously through the middle.
As Zofchak ripped the conduit from the wall, Storgrath's shadowy figure appeared at the end of the corridor. The Jem'Hadar stood in silence for several moments before taking a few steps into the darkened passageway.
Dustin's grip on the conduit only tightened. It seemed like it would be a worthy implement of war, given the voracious stream of intense energy flowing out of the torn conduit's end.
Finally, Storgrath sprung into action. He stormed down the corridor at top speed. Dustin could feel the deck plates vibrating as the Jem'Hadar approached. But he failed to properly calculate Storgrath's speed, and before Dustin was ready to react, the Jem'Hadar violently pounced onto its target. Dustin squirmed rampantly as Storgrath began to pound him with his fists. But is efforts were futile. The first blow was a direct hit to his abdominal region. The next impacted his jaw, and the next, his chest.