Unspoken Insinuations

[Victria 0]

“Computer, what is the current location of the Al-Ucardian, Victria?”

 

“The Al-Ucardian is currently located in her assigned guest quarters on Deck 4,” the computer replied in the usual soothing voice.

 

Looking away from the mountain of PADDs on his desk, Corizon exited his office. He had many reports to review and orders to approve, but there was something that could be put off no longer. He had postponed it as long as possible to give himself time to think and decide upon a solution. Taking his steps quickly, it was not long before the Dameon arrived on Deck 4. Pausing a few moments, he pressed the door chime.

 

Victria sat on the couch in her lounge area, peering out of the room's portal to the stars beyond. She swung her eyes to the door, extending her senses to discern who lay beyond. A slight smirk tugged at her lips. “You may enter.”

 

Entering slowly, Corizon's night vision adjusted quickly to the dim lighting of her quarters. “Good evening...”

 

“Is it? I've lost all grasp of planet time.” She remained seated, her blue eyes studying him in the dark. She did not offer him a seat, either. He was in command of the ship and she just a tentative guest. If he wanted to sit he didn't need her permission. “To what do I owe the honor?”

 

Corizon stood a few feet away from her, trying to repress his thoughts about his capture. “It's a little ironic, don't you think... our situation?”

 

“Which part do you mean?” One eyebrow lifted in curiosity.

 

He smirked ever so slightly. “That the tables are turned... and that neither one of us really had the correct prisoner.”

 

“Ah. I've thought on that quite a lot during my stay.” Her head tilted slightly as she attempted to sense something beneath the words, but he had a tighter grasp of his emotions this meeting. “But I'm not sure what you mean by 'correct prisoner'. Was there someone else you were hoping for?”

 

“Your masters,” Corizon said directly, and honestly.

 

“Of course.” She dug her nails into the fabric of the couch but otherwise did not move. “And I assume that you have some sort of plan to capture one of the Scorpiad? Perhaps gain some of their technology to analyze and use against them?”

 

It was amazing how much they thought alike. “Something like that, yes.”

 

He couldn’t possibly know that the Al-Ucardians had been given orders to do exactly the same thing to any Federation ship they could capture. She gave him a thin smile. “And what do you wish from me?”

 

“I want to know what you know about the Scorpiads.”

 

“What, exactly?” She seemed unsurprised.

 

“We can start with what you want to tell me.” A toothy grin appeared on his face. “I can claw what ever information you don't want to give me later.”

 

She snorted. “The last time we battled, you were on the losing side.” Her nails continued to dig into the sofa. Lucky it was durable. “What type of information do you consider to be most important? Weaknesses? Their command structure? Their level of technology? I could give you many details, but they may not be the ones you need.”

 

He chose not to point out that the last time they battled he was caught unaware, and instead focus on the task at hand. “Any knowledge is power.”

 

“Very well. I shall begin by telling you about the Scorpiad physical structure should you ever meet them in combat.” Naturally that was what she would consider to be the most important.

 

“Their outer skeletons are impervious to your weapons' fire unless you aim it at specific regions of their body. Their eyes, for example, are one of their weaknesses. Their joints are another. Also the sections where their body segments join, though they do have some sort of internal skeletal structure, so do not expect them to simply collapse. They can tolerate extreme temperatures and high radiation levels, but react much the way your people do to incendiary devices.” She made a fist and flung it open quickly to emphasis her point.

 

“What you may not realize is that there are several different sub-species of the Scorpiad – Emri, Androcts, Leptertus, Mari, Trog, and Leiri. Each group has its own unique characteristics. Some use their claws in battle and are strong enough to crush any humanoid. Some have highly toxic venom in their stingers...”

 

“How poisonous would you say?”

 

“Again, it varies from species to species. The Leiri are the most deadly.”

 

“To you and your people?”

 

She smirked. “No. We are able to filter out most poisons, but that does not mean that we haven’t died from Scorpiad stings. Their venom does not affect us, but having an object over thirty centimeters long thrust into your body is quite painful if not fatal.”

 

“Also, they inject certain enzymes through their saliva that will begin to break down any organic tissue with which it comes in contact. I do not believe it is as potent outside of the body, but if it is injected, it will do much damage unless counteracted.”

 

“Continue,” he said, nodding. “What of their command structure?”

 

“There are many complicated variables in their society,” she sighed, running one hand through her hair. “But I can give you a simplified explanation of their castes. Emri are the rulers and military leaders. Andrcots are mainly advisors. Mari are rarely found in military roles, but excel in building, designing, and engineering. Lapterus, believe it or not, are pacifists and philosophers. If ever you had a chance to reason with a Scorpiad, the Lapterus would be the sub-species to approach. The Trog make up the bulk of the actually fighting force and would be what you considered your standard enlisted officer.”

 

“The Leiri,” and here she suppressed a shudder of fear. “They are quite possibly the strongest force the Scorpiad possess. They are ruthless warriors and are extremely aggressive. Killing is the only skill they have and they are quite good at it. You would not want to battle a Leiri one-on-one.”

 

Victria took a breath, pausing in her recitation. “There is so much more that I could tell you. Shouldn't I just put this in a report for you? I doubt you are going to be able to remember all of the details.”

 

Corizon had nearly perfect recall, but he didn't feel the need to point that out. “That would be acceptable.”

 

She nodded, satisfied that she would not have to repeat herself. Leaning forward slightly, she met his gaze. “Now, because I’ve heard nothing but rumors, what is the current situation?”

 

“Your masters,” he sighed. “Are acting most... unusually.”

 

Her lips curved upward into a slight smile. “They are on the brink of activity but seem to be waiting for something?”

 

“Yes,” he said. “But more than that, I get the sneaking suspicion that taking the wormhole has some... some... strategic value that is escaping me.”

 

“That is probably the case. If there is one thing you must realize about the Scorpiad it is the fact that their goals always range toward the long term. They are a very patient race when needed and always have a particular motive for their actions.”

 

He nodded, “From what Weyoun told me that would seem to be true.”

 

“And Weyoun is?”

 

“A member of the Dominion Government... actually one of the most... heinous figures in the history of my Quadrant.”

 

Her nose wrinkled at the mention of the Dominion, her disgust obvious. The lapse was only momentary, however, and soon the smug expression was back in place. “How do you plan on attacking them? From what I have seen of your ship, your technology is not as advanced.”

 

He shook his head, “I am afraid that information is classified. And given a recent security breach I am not sure if I can trust you, to be honest.”

 

Her lips twitched and the blue of her eyes intensified slightly. She rose from the couch, tossing aside a pillow, and strode to the window. “I only thought to offer some insight. I'm not exactly sure where you expect me to take any of your classified information. I have no contact with my people and no way to contact them. All the ships in this area are under your control.”

 

“There was an attack on our computer systems from this deck,” he said calmly, watching her reaction.

 

She was pacing like a caged animal, obviously frustrated about her lack of options. Pausing at his admission, she turned to stare at him. “What sort of attack? Do you realize that I have limited access to your systems? The most I can glean from your files are a UFP welcome program detailing some of the different species that make up your Federation. How could I possibly know enough about your technology to shove my way into your computers?”

 

Lifting an ear, “Do you take me for a complete fool?”

 

She bared her fangs at him, her frustration level growing. “I had nothing to do with an attack on your computer systems. I prefer... living... prey. I am not a scholar or a philosopher or a technician. I am a Hunter.”

 

“A hunter. And isn't one of the first rules of any hunt, to know your prey?” Corizon stood calmly. He knew he could defend himself if need be. He also knew he needed to confirm or dispel the suspicions swirling in his mind.

 

“Do you think I look upon your people as prey?” Her fists were closed so tightly that her nails cut into her skin. “Lucam are my prey. We've established that you are not Lucam, nor are any of your people.”

 

“Funny,” he said, his voice remaining flat. “I am pretty sure you were in the fighter that attacked my ship.”

 

“You have never followed an order against your personal judgment?” She began pacing again, though her attention remained on him.

 

“We were sent on a suicide mission. Did you see the remains of our fighter vessel? How could that possibly stand against one of your starships? The Scorpiad will decimate my people if we do not follow them, so the few throw themselves willingly to their deaths to save the majority. Should we allow our entire race to perish? Would you?”

 

“My people once faced that choice,” he said sternly. “We would gladly die free than ever be the slave of another.”

 

“Then perhaps we are more selfish. We wish to survive - to continue. If we could break free of the Scorpiad rule, it would have happened long ago, but we are nothing compared to them.”

 

There was clarity in his voice and in his eyes. Above all things, he valued his freedom, and he would rather feel the cold sharpness of his own blade than be a slave. “Then your cause is already lost.”

 

She turned her back on him, one hand resting on the wall next to the replicator. “Then dispose of me. Kill me now.”

 

When she turned, she wore a pained expression on her face. “Anything but this torture. I am either your enemy or I am not. Decide and deal with me accordingly. You know how you feel about captivity. It is just as much torture for me. This ship is torture. I Hunger constantly and am surrounded on all sides by temptation that I cannot sample.”

 

“I won't kill you,” Corizon let his ears fall. “But... I will offer you solace.”

 

Mouth open slightly, tongue toying with one of her fangs, she stared at him. She was desperate for any small glimmer of hope. “What?”

 

“How would you feel about joining my crew as a provisional officer?”

 

She moved a few paces closer, still staring. “You say you cannot trust me, but you offer me a provisional post on your crew? What sort of officer could I possibly be in your society?”

 

“Security,” he said. “Besides, how else are you to gain my trust if I don't allow you the opportunity?”

 

She frowned. “Security. Stalking Lucam and working as security on a ship are two entirely different worlds. I do not take orders well.”

 

“You'll learn,” he said smugly. “Especially if you want to do anything outside of this room.”

 

Hissing in frustration, she approached him slowly, stopping a few inches away. Her gaze locked with his, then drifted automatically to his neck as she became aware of his pulse. Lips curled back off of her teeth as she leaned forward, at war with her instincts. Just shy of touching him, she whispered, “That is the only offer you came to make?”

 

He could feel his heart rate increase in response to her provocation, but he did not flinch away. “Yes,” he said slowly. “A provisional post, and I do not offer that lightly. I have little time for games… Victria.”

 

“No. No, I imagine not. You are a busy man, which is why I have been left to suffer my fate for so long.” Her breath quickened slightly, eyes a brighter shade of icy blue. She lingered at his neck for a moment, then turned and lifted her head slightly to meet his gaze, still only inches away. “I shall consider your offer... and look forward to any others you may wish to present at some later time.”

 

Nodding ever so slightly, “In the meantime, you can work on your report for me.”

 

“Mmm.” She took a deep breath, savoring his scent. “Ah-Windu?”

 

His ears twitched at the way she said his name, eyes locked on hers. “Yes?”

 

“If one of your medical personnel went missing, would anyone notice? They have been most helpful when I've visited.” A wicked grin appeared, slowly spreading across her face. She broke away, letting the moment pass.

 

He considered it for a very long moment. “Unfortunately... yes.”

 

“Ah, a pity.” Though her hunger had been suppressed, he had no idea how close she had been to sinking her teeth into his neck. Only the unknown ramifications of that action made her pause. “Thank you for visiting. I'll have that report to you as soon as I can.”

 

He paused only briefly as he turned toward the door. “You're welcome.”

 

Victria watched him leave, feeling as though he had left something unsaid. She stared at the closed doors, her senses attuned to his beating heart to the point where he entered the turbolift. Did he really think her to be a spy? Had her anger at his accusation confirmed or denied his doubts?

 

Someone had planted a virus in the ship’s computer and had just happened to do it on the deck she was stationed. Coincidence? Unlikely. She suspected that there was someone on board that wanted to cast even more doubt on her. They probably had their own agenda, but she would be the perfect scapegoat. She was the enemy and there was not a single person on board that would protest her execution if she were to be accused and found guilty. If someone was ingenious enough to escape detection when sabotaging the ship, then they would probably have no trouble in framing her for their crime.

 

Lips drew back off elongated canines as she clenched her teeth. It seemed as though she had a new prey to hunt. She would be on the prowl for the saboteur, and when she found him or her, she might just be able to get a decent meal.