"The Abduction of Moore"

[Cptn Elias Moore 0]

He'd only been asleep three hours before his small transport's proximity alarm awoke Captain Moore. At first, he was confused when he looked out the forward viewport. Had the ship he was looking at managed to get this close before setting off the alarm? Or had the loud blaring of the alarm actually failed to wake him until now?

 

Wrong on both counts. As Moore's eyes refocused out of their sleep-induced blur, he realized that the ship was far enough away to be right on the edge of the proximity scanners. It was simply immense. It's immensity was staggering.

 

The Orion fortress ship.

 

Moore's hands reached the shuttle's control panel faster than his brain could send the command. Even as they did so, he realized that it was too late. The interceptors had already been launched and were closing in on the shuttle. His attempt to turn the ship around and escape was doomed for failure--the interceptors were too fast--but he'd be damned if he didn't try.

 

The cabin shook. Sparks erupted from the panel. Moore blacked out before he could speculate whether death or unconsciousness was gripping him.

 

 

He awoke with large green hands clasping his arms and dragging him forward. How long he'd been out, he couldn't be sure. His head was throbbing, and a faint smell of burnt flesh told him why his left hand was in agonizing pain. The corridors were wide and brightly lit, nothing like the corridors on Rago's transport. Certainly, he'd been taken aboard the fortress ship. Was he still aboard, or had it dropped him off somewhere else?

 

The first face to greet him provided the answer. A human-sized man with a slick black body suit, a bald head, a thin black visor concealing his eyes, and, most remarkably, skin the color of solid gold. How could he forget that face.

 

Gravus. The mastermind of the kidnappings at Deneva a year ago.

 

Somewhere behind those shades were a pair of appraising eyes. The tingling on the back of Moore's neck implied that a gaze could, indeed, be felt.

 

Gravus was seated in a pivoting chair at the center of a circular command deck eight times as big as Challenger's Bridge. Orions both male and female were working at the stations scattered around its perimeter. One Orion male stood to the side of Gravus' chair, arms crossed, eyes staring at the Captain.

 

Gravus' left hand lifted a small white device similar to a hypospray. He pushed it against his left nostril and pressed a button at the bottom. The device emitted a faint hiss, and Gravus' head tilted back momentarily. Moore recalled witnessing this at Deneva. "Remove that." Gravus pointed at the top of his own head. A large hand gripped the top of Moore's head and ripped off his Orion wig roughly, ripping off the skin where the cap had been adhered. Moore was in too much pain from the hand injury to notice.

 

"Captain Moore." Gravus addressed in his languid voice. "When last we parted, I knew our paths would cross again."

 

Moore was starting to feel dizzy from the pain.

 

"As you may have guessed by now, I have come for your head." A small grin touched Gravus' face. "But before I take it, I am going to repay an old favor. The new Klingon Chancellor will be delighted to know that Starfleet officers are prowling around his territory dressed as Orions."

 

"... no ..." Moore managed a weak shake of his head.

 

"I do believe you shall meet him personally." Gravus pulled aside his visor. The glow that emerged from his eyes defied belief, and they were focused directly on Moore. With one look at those glowing orbs, a wave of nausea crashed into Moore. In moments, he fell unconscious once again.