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My spleen!

Posted on Thu Apr 1st, 2021 @ 3:20am by Lieutenant Commander Dina Vossiborn

Mission: Little Things
Location: Corridors, USS Minerva

(Content warning, this post contains violence and gore)

Dagrek felt the constant wailing of the red alert claxon combined with the stark, clean corridors of a Federation Starship's interior starting to get to him. The Ferengi was developing a headache. He always did, on raids of these kinds of ships. The curse of sensitive ears. "Hey, Dat," he asked his fellow Ferengi, right next to him. "You starting to get a headache too from this fucking noise?"

"Be quiet you two," Gegh, the burly scarred Klingon leading the two complained. "QI'yaH, you two mewling toDSaH are getting on my nerves, we have a job to do here."

Dagrek and Dat knew he was right, and kept quite. Even as Gegh stopped and held up his free hand, lowering his disruptor. "Shh, listen," he whispered. The three of them could hear a whimpering nearby. Dat stepped forward, quietly, and closed his eyes for a moment. "Children. They sound very young. It's coming from that direction," he whispered, indicating a nearby corner.

Quietly the three inched forward, signalling to each other to coordinate. If they could take the children hostage they could demand a hefty price. Anything they wanted, really. These Federation types were such weaklings, willing to give up nearly anything just to save some children, Dagrek mused to himself. Once at the corner he watched his leader signal for him and Dat to wait and go in on three ...

two ...

one ...

As the three charged around the corner, weapons at the ready, Dagrek had expected a group of fightened children, easy pickings. What he didn't expect was a blur of white slamming in to him and sending him staggering back a few steps and onto the ground, the wind knocked out of him, his weapon clattering. He was sure there were some broken ribs too, from that impact and the sting in his chest - all he could see was stars and a vague impression of a corridor, swimming in his vision.

As he clambered for his weapon he heard a scream, cut short into a gurgle, and a hefty CRUNCH nearby followed by a dull thud. He felt liquid splatter over him. Sticky. Warm. Smelling of iron. With his eyes slowly refocusing he looked over at the source of the crunchy thud and saw his compatriot, Dat, gurgling, stomach torn asunder, ripped to ribbons, internal organs and guts hanging out from the gaping wound, a disemboweled Dat's limbs at unnatural, broken angles.

Dagrek's sense of annoyed confidence quickly made way for confused terror.

He glanced up and behind him, to see a massive behemoth, a mountain of muscle, easily half again as tall as Gegh, facing off with the Klingon, who just now was crawling to his feet. Before Gegh could good and well get his bearings and bring up his weapon the horrifying nightmare creature, bathed red in the glow of the alert, slammed both claws forward, rending asunder the Klingon's jaw and throat, sending him reeling until he collapsed, gurgling, blood spurting from the gaping wound.

The scent of Ferengi urine mixed with that of blood and viscera as Dagrek trembled, scrambling back from this terrifying creature, this fury of claws and rage, eyes wide, not even thinking of reaching for his weapon anymore. "N-no - ple - " he didn't get to finish his sentence. With seemingly unnatural speed this rage monster - that was all he could call it - was upon him and the last thing he saw was her massive clawed foot heading right for his face as - with a sickening CRUNCH everything went black.


Dina stood panting over the now headless Ferengi, who's blood and bone fragments covered her foot, Klingon and Ferengi blood and viscera splattered over her uniform. With a snort and a growl she forced herself to calm down, reaching down to collect Dagrek, Dat and Gegh's weapons. "Oh, hey, look," she muttered in a dark tone, a grin forming on Sirran features.

"Now I have ammunition again."


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