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Mark Garrison

Blood Pact, Part I

"Blood Pact, Part I"

 

Mark paused for a moment, not sure if it was the right gesture, but he held out his hand regardless. "Well, when that day comes, I'd be proud to fight along side you."

 

 

 

She peered at his hand, still a little perplexed by the greeting and the meaning behind it. Nevertheless, she did what was expected and shook his hand, her grip surprisingly strong for one of her stature. "Normally there would be a drawing and exchange of blood for promises such at this."

 

 

 

He smirked as he squeezed his hand a little harder, honestly surprised by the strength of her grip. "Well, if that's how the Al-Ucard do it, then by all means. I'm not one to deny alien culture or tradition."

 

 

 

She wore an amused expression as she released his hand. "Perhaps later I shall formally educate you on the ways of my people, but I do not think this is the place or time."

 

 

 

He suppressed a laugh as he looked around the Promenade, watching the random faces shuffle by he and the junior Lieutenant. "I'm inclined to agree. Would you care for a walk? I believe there is something you might be able to help me with."

 

 

 

She nodded her assent and walked beside him as they moved away from the railing. "The views of the station leave something to be desired. I was planning on returning to the ship anyhow. What is it that you need?"

 

 

 

"Well..." He paused to sidestep a Klingon who was taking up a surprisingly large portion of the walkway. "As convenience would have it, what I have planned is on the ship. Those surveys I told you about, I've basically been formulating plans to deal with any potential hostile boarders. I think your opinion might be the most important of all."

 

 

 

"An interesting concept." She nodded slightly as they walked, ignoring glances from those they passed as she bared her fangs in a half-snarl. "An invader could do much damage if they boarded in certain areas that are difficult to defend or full of crewmen ill equipped to fight."

 

 

 

His eyes drifted to her fangs for a second. He couldn't help but be intrigued by them, but quickly set his eyes straight forward, figuring it wasn't proper social etiquette. "Exactly. I'm mostly worried about the Engineering sections of the ship. I've been trained for this sort of thing, but I have very little tactical information to back me up. Besides yourself, and the Jem'Hadar I encountered in the war, I have no knowledge of Gamma Quadrant species."

 

 

 

"I could be of some assistance there." Her ice-blue gazed turned to regard him as they left the promenade for the corridor that led to the docking ring. "I've Hunted them all and have intimate knowledge of their battle tactics, how they move, and how they think. Many years of experience." And much information transmitted to her by those she had captured and drained.

 

 

 

"Interesting." He led her into the docking ring, his attention drawn to the vast windows and the empty black that lay beyond them. "What do you mean by... hunting? I've fought a lot of battles in my time, but I didn't exactly consider any of it hunting."

 

 

 

She chuckled, a low and sultry tone. "Hunting as in for food or sport. For entertainment or survival of my species. Or simply because the Scorpiad wished a particular planet eradicated without having to trouble themselves. There are always those that would be prey." There was a sense of longing in her voice, almost a yearning for those times. She ignored the windows as they passed, her attention drawn to the people in the area.

 

 

 

His eyes shot back to her, but with enough control to pass as nothing. "Is the hunt... an instinctual thing? Something you're born with?" They reached the airlock; he paused to allow her through, all gentlemen like.

 

 

 

"Something that was implanted into us genetically." She stepped through the airlock and onto the ship without breaking stride or pausing. "I suppose it could be removed, but I doubt there is a single Al-Ucard that would allow it. It is part of us now. We need it to survive."

 

 

 

He jogged through the lock to catch up to her, the almost emptiness of the ship somewhat bothersome from the previously packed station. "It must be maddening, to be here on the ship, unable to hunt. I wouldn't say this to any of the Starfleet psych examiners, but part of the reason I came out here was in the hope of some action... to have some sort of... an adventure, or something."

 

 

 

"Yes." She smiled slightly as she glanced sidelong at him. "I can empathize with that. The ship keeps me busy much of the time and I have little need to Hunt, but there are times... during the lulls of travel... that the closeness of everything is almost overwhelming. But the holo-programs do help somewhat."

 

 

 

He nodded as they turned into a turbo lift. "Deck 14." Suddenly silence filled the tiny lift as he found himself unable to think of anything useful to say. He let out a small scowl of frustration.

 

 

 

Victria seemed unphased by the lack of small talk. Standing next to him, she watched him as they traveled, uncaring that humans considered staring rude. His scent filled the small space and she smiled in amusement as she caught the tone of his underlying emotions.

 

 

 

He felt her eyes boring into him, but didn't do anything; he'd had much less attractive things stare him down in the past. The lift doors slid open, depositing them on Deck 14, not far away from main engineering. "Well...we're here."

Edited by Mark Garrison

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