Welcome to Star Trek Simulation Forum

Register now to gain access to all of our features. Once registered and logged in, you will be able to contribute to this site by submitting your own content or replying to existing content. You'll be able to customize your profile, receive reputation points as a reward for submitting content, while also communicating with other members via your own private inbox, plus much more! This message will be removed once you have signed in.

Sign in to follow this  
Followers 0
Victria

Raging Sensibilities

"I imagine it is chaotic on the bridge right now. I mean, I've taken a few shifts there, but nothing exciting has ever happened while I was on duty. Certainly not a battle! I heard that we took out several ships. Is that true?"

 

Victria turned slowly to stare at the ensign in the turbolift with her, eyes narrowing. He must have sensed that her fang-filled smile was anything but friendly. He took an involuntary step backward and pressed himself against the wall, muttering apologies for bothering her. Expelling her breath between her teeth in a low hiss, she turned back to watching the doors, willing the infernal conveyance to move faster. She could hear the crewman's racing heartbeat lessen as she turned away, but it was not enough to amuse her. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to rend the unknown ensign to pieces. Her sharpened fingernails cut into her palms as she clenched her hands into fists, barely controlling herself.

 

It was a true relief when the lift doors finally opened onto her deck. She strode out silently and stalked down the corridor. Those she met were quick to move out of her path for her expression was murderous. She ignored the hushed murmuring that rose up in her wake. Had she paused to listen, she would have likely injured someone. Finally reaching her quarters, she strode inside, slapped on the privacy lock and screamed!

 

The first piece of furniture that came to hand was the standard issue chair in her sitting area. She lifted it over head and slammed it down into the occasional table in the middle of the room. The glass top of the low table proved to be shatter proof, but the table itself collapsed under the force. Unsatisfied with the unbroken glass, Victria grabbed the chair once more and hurled it across the room. It struck the wall to her sleeping area and dented the panels there. With another piercing scream, she jumped and drove her fist downward into the table. The glass gave way and broke into several large pieces.

 

Still seething, she launched herself at her couch. A blade came easily to her hand and sank into the dark colored surface. Slashing wildly, the piece of furniture was soon an unidentifiable mass of ripped fabric and foam stuffing. Her blade disappeared and she took the cast polymer frame in both hands, yelling in anger as she snapped it in half. The replicator panel was the next to feel her wrath. She threw several pieces of the couch frame at the dark screen, cracking the resilient surface. Her fist followed the thrown furniture, punching a hole in the center of the terminal and shorting out several circuits in the process. Leaving the terminal to spark and crackle, she spun and drove her elbow through the wall a few feet away, another scream ripping from her throat as she vented. Blade in hand again, she forcefully stabbed the wall multiple times until her arm began to ache and her voice began to crack. Each strike came slower and slower until she finally paused, burying the dagger hilt-deep into the wall, making no move to pull it free.

 

Panting and exhausted by the uncontrolled bursts of violence, her rage finally drained away, leaving her unable to stand. She sank to her knees and pressed her face to the ground, covering her head with her arms. Her entire body shook with emotion, but she did not cry. She could not cry, not as humans cried. She did, however, mourn. She mourned the loss of her homeworld and the life she had been wrenched away from by order of the Scorpiad. She mourned the fellow Al-Ucard that lost their lives in battle, both past and present. And mostly, she mourned those that had died by her own hand.

 

Her people -- and she had helped to kill them. Hundreds of them.

 

Siyar had labeled her traitor. At the time, Victria had violently denied the accusation. She was no traitor to her people. She loved her people, though she vehemently hated the Scorpiad. Their dominance over the Al-Ucard had continued for too long and she was determined to end it. Surely there were others like her that wished the same.

 

On Al-Ucard, she had never been a blind follower of the Scorpiad. She was a Hunter and her life had been the Hunt. She left others to follow their mindless devotion to the gods that had abandoned them long ago. The reemergence of the Scorpiad on Al-Ucard had thrown their entire culture into a frenzy, however. Those that had neglected the religion were soon scrambling to worship and obey. The Hunt was set aside and forgotten as they amassed their space fleet of warships and sent them to follow Scorpiad command.

 

Victria served on one of those ships, but she still had not believed the Scorpiad to be the god-like beings that they portrayed themselves to be. Rather, she had seen them for the conquering species they were, but she had done nothing. Who was she to rebel against thousands of years of belief and tradition? And so her life, along with those with whom she served, had been tossed away in battle. She was disposable, as all were those under the rule of the Scorpiad. When she was given a second chance at life, she chose to rebel against her former masters. Did that rebellion make her a traitor to her people if she were forced to kill Al-Ucard that still sided with the Scorpiad?

 

She wanted to reject Siyar's claims, but now she could not help but wonder if the woman had been right all along...

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

I love how well this race is developed. Great log! But really, would one lowly redshirt ensign have really been missed? There are no cameras in the turbolifts :)

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
I love how well this race is developed. Great log! But really, would one lowly redshirt ensign have really been missed? There are no cameras in the turbolifts :)

 

And the comm system bellowed, "Clean-up on Deck Eight!"

 

Remind me to pick my turbolift rides carefully.

 

Just do what I do - hiss back at her. :-D Nice "going bat sh--" log Victria!!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
She wanted to reject Siyar's claims, but now she could not help but wonder if the woman had been right all along...

 

Siyar> "Of course I'm right. I'm always right. You traitoress!"

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

::smirks:: The Al-Ucard could easily be called "when a Halloween plot gets out of hand."

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
::smirks:: The Al-Ucard could easily be called "when a Halloween plot gets out of hand."

 

Hey, any time we get to see Corizon leashed and muzzled is bound to be a hit.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!


Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.


Sign In Now
Sign in to follow this  
Followers 0