Orion Pirates Suck, or Death to Pirates

Posted on Tue Nov 30th, 2021 @ 6:29am by

3,757 words; about a 19 minute read

I stood there on the bridge of the USS Rogers, on a special stool made for my station. I heard Lieutenant Manning say over the coms “Ok, should be ready. Try the neural linkup.”

We were trying out using Leth’aan organic tech with Star Fleet tech. The sensor suite had been grown specifically with linking up with the Federation’s dead tech in mind. I was chosen to test the rig because there was no way currently to link up non Leth with the neural networks just yet and I was the only Star Fleet officer who could do the link ups. That and the fact that I had a top class neural implant with the best neural feedback inhibitors available didn’t hurt either.

A few medtechs stood nearby with emergency equipment and tricorders ready should things fail badly. I touched the neural node rigged up on the console and tried to link up. It was easier than I’d figured. Suddenly I had the pleasant buzz of a small but effective neural network available to me.

I “looked” out through the organic sensors and “saw” the space out side the ship in a 360 degree arc. I “saw” and “heard” in many wavelengths well outside my normal capacity. It was dizzying for a moment until I adjusted. I felt a pair of hands steady me as I nearly fell off my seat.

“You ok?” I heard one of the medtechs say. I had to focus on my own eyes for a moment to see who it was and I almost didn’t hear them because my own ears were so low on my sensory priority at the moment.

“Ya, it’s just… an intense experience. I’m not use to having even a partial sensor suite at my disposal. Specialists can train for years for this and normally first start using a particular suite from it’s inception all through it’s growing phase so they are well use to it before it’s merged with the rest of a ship’s biology.” I replied, still distracted by the near sensory overload of the organic sensor suite.

The other medtech confirmed “Her vitals look good. If she’s ok with it we should be good for trying to connect to the ships computers.”

“Sounds good to me” I said, finally managing to strike a good balance between paying attention to my own body and the sensor suite I was connected to.

The ships head engineer Lieutenant Harold Manning said over the coms “Ok, initiating link now.”

The connection was jarring… I did fall out of my seat before they could catch me. I did however land on my feet… a reflex not even extreme neural confusion could prevent.

The ships computers were not quite dead. The interface being used was 100% bio-neural gelpack and… zombie… that’s the best way to put it. The interface was like a zombie. Not quite dead but, not the same as another living being either.

My people did have inorganic or “dead” tech that we did interface with. They almost never had any advanced computational abilities and we had long experience at designing them to work well with our organic tech. Start Fleet tech was… alien. It was clear that much more work on both sides of the equation would be needed still for seamless connections between the two technologies. As it was, I could gather and collate data from the sensors or feed info to the Star Fleet computers but I couldn’t do both at once and the organic computers built into the sensors all but refused to work with the alien zombified feeling Star Fleet computers. My best guess was that it would take a few more generations of organic tech to bridge the gap and who knows how many more revisions and reinvention of the Star Fleet tech.

Maybe if we could get two people linked up to the sensors… one to monitor the sensors and gather the data, storing it in the organic computer, then the other to bridge the gap between the organic computer and the Star Fleet computers. Working that closely with some one else was common for my people. Sharing a direct neural link like that was a VERY personal experience but, between Pride mates or in many cases personal mates, it was not so uncommon. Humans however, tended to be a bit more private than that… not like we had a neural interface implant genetically compatible with humans yet… that was still quite a ways off I think.

Suddenly a ship came out of warp, noticed at the same time by myself and the Ensign monitoring the normal sensors. He was able to confirm it was an Orion pirate ship before I was because of the organic system’s reluctance to work with the Star Fleet computers.

The captain called red-alert just in time as we were hit with a barrage of fire that killed the organic sensor pack right before the shields went up.

I screamed as the neural feedback burned at my very soul. I woke up a short time later being cradled by one of the medtechs. “...’s coming around. Are how are you feeling?” they asked.

“Like I got kicked in the head by Ensign Appalania.” I replied, referencing one if the largest giant humans I had ever seen who, fittingly enough was a rising star in the security department.

The ship rocked violently and I was nearly dropped as the poor medtech’s back hit the wall and they slid down to their feet. “Scans show no permanent neural damage. I’d say give it a day or so rest and you should be fine but… I don’t think we have time for that now.”

They let me go just as the captain barked out “How are you doing?”

“I’m ok, I won’t be good for neural interfacing for a few days but I don’t think that’s an issue right now.” I replied as the med tech got up. I was really loving my neural interface right now. I’d been born into one of the most powerful warrior clans on my home world. At birth I was given a top of the line neural interface implant that had been matched to my genome shortly after my conception. Even after I was rejected for being a runt, the company that made the implant had kept it up to date with the latest advancements because they took so much pride in their work that they would never let it fail, even if it was in a runt. The neural feedback of having the whole organic sensor suite destroyed would have left most of my kind crippled for weeks while they had their nervous system regenerated. Even with military grade neural feedback inhibitors like mine, made to prevent permanent injury with that level of feedback, I could have been knocked me out for a few hours. I got lucky really…

I leapt to another console and immediately punched in a directive that reconfigured the console to work for me, leaving me a spot to sit directly on it, with the controls radially arranged around me.

“Shields at 80%” I said as the captain ordered a full retreat and had a distress call sent out.

We were a science vessel. Sure… we had a few phaser canons and two photon torpedo launchers, one fore and one aft. Those were for launching sensor probes and what few torpedos we had were not full military spec weapons. They were for clearing debris in our way that the deflector screens couldn’t deal with. We stood no chance against a fully armed pirate ship.

The ship rocked again and I nearly lost my footing, having to sink claws into the control panel to stay on… Harold would normally hate me for that but, given the circumstances I think he’d understand this time. Thankfully the damage to the screen didn’t cause any of the control surfaces I was using to fail but there would be a few large dead patches under where I was sitting.

“Shields at…” I started to say as the panel next to me exploded. I narrowly managed to jump out of the blast radius in time.

I heard the tell tale sound of transporters as several LARGE green giants appeared on the bridge and started firing. I darted under one of the consoles on the wall that had it’s lower access panel blown off.

As the bridge crew fought valiantly I stripped off my uniform down to an embarrassing collar and I hooked my com badge to it. Effectively making me look like a pet… hopefully beneath notice. A plan that my captain had been all for in this sort of instance. I could be a wildcard that the invading pirates hopefully wouldn’t be counting on. I honestly never thought I’d have to actually use those plans.

The medtech who’s name I still didn’t know fell next to the station, eyes wide open after a blast of some sort hit him in the chest.

I popped my head out to sniff at him for a moment. Along with all the normal human smells I smelled fear, and… yes… he was still alive. The burn pattern on his chest looked more like it was a stun beam of some sort and his chest was rising and falling. Ok… so they weren’t just killing, that’s a good thing but I would probably be just as dead under a stun beam powered to take down a giant.

The battle was over fairly quickly at least on the bridge. The captain activated the ships coms and ordered a report. It wasn’t looking good for our side… we were a science vessel. We didn’t have the capacity to repel boarding parties on this scale.

Just then our ship rocked again and on the man view screen a Klingon appeared. “This is Captain Toral of the IKS boQ'a'! We will be sending over boarding parties to help you repel the Orion petaQ!”

Just then several large Klingons appeared on the bridge, looking fully armed and very angry. The captain barked something at them in Klingon and they laughed as one clasped his arm and shook it. They positioned themselves around the room as the captain continued to try to coordinate ships defense.

One of the larger Klingons took over the security station where… Oh gods… I shouldn’t be seeing those parts of… oh gods… I’m gonna die here… among giants.

I’m ashamed to admit I froze… curled up in a tight little ball. I don’t know how long I was curled up there. It couldn’t have been long. One of the klingons, with more kindness then I would have ever credited them with got down next to me.

“You must be the Leth’aan we were told was aboard. I thought your people were warriors.” He said, again with more kindness then I would have ever thought possible from a Klingon.

“I’m no warrior, I’m a scientist.” I managed.

“Are you going to tell me that even a Terran cat is more powerful than you are?” he said. “Do you see this scar?” he followed up, indicating a long scar on his face that looked like it nearly took out his eye.

“I got it from a Terran cat. An orange one who was among the fiercest hunters I have ever had the fortune to witness!” He said with an intensity that scared me even more than I already was.

Something clicked in me though as he picked me up and put me on his shoulder. I WAS a hunter. I had killed prey. I wanted to stand as an equal among these giants and here I was, cowering like the rest of my kind had. I would cower NO MORE!

I shifted around to watch his back and dug claws into his shoulder armor to hold myself steady. “You fight forward, and I’ll watch your back then.” I said.

The giant Klingon’s laughter was infectious as the captain said “They’ve taken over engineering! You’ve got to help get it back in our control. See of you can get her down there, she can help undo what ever they are trying to do to our systems!”

“With pleasure!” came the Klingon’s reply. “Yes sir!” came my reply right after.

“Well little one, let’s fight with honor!” he said as he raced to the turbo lift and ordered it to take us to engineering.

We got most of the way there before it stopped and the doors opened with an emergency alarm. We were between floors but there was enough space for the Klingon to slip through to the lower level.

There was smoke in the hallway and phaser fire could be heard in the distance. “Down the hallway about a dozen meters and you we should find a Jefferies tube that will take us the rest of the way to engineering.”

As he ran down the corridor an Orion came out of a room behind him. “Look out be…” I manged to say before the Klingon swung around and fired hitting the Orion square in his chest, burning a whole clear though him that would have been large enough for me to jump through.

“Thank you little one! I owe you for that!” he laughed as he continued on.

On arriving at the Jefferies tube we needed he let out a string of language that I didn’t need a translator to understand were some of the most fowl curse words in the Klingon language. The whole section of wall was collapsed in on it self and on fire.

“Ok… down that way and take a left, there’s another tube we can take but it’s gonna be a longer crawl” I said, thinking furiously about the next best way to get down to engineering.

He took off running and I barely managed to hang on. Directing him while facing mostly backwards was bit of a challenge but one that proved worthwhile when another Orian managed to pop out of a room right behind us.

He was too close for a verbal warning to be of use and to the Klingon’s credit he was mid turn when I noticed the big knife in the Orion’s hand. I leapt at his face, managing to land my fore claws on both of his eyes, I bit down on his nose HARD and did “rabbit kicks” with both of my hind claws at his throat.

The Klingon was stunned for a moment at what must have been quite a crazy sight. I felt the gore of my prey spraying everywhere and I tasted his fowl orange blood. I heard gurgling as he slumped to the ground trying to tear me off of his face. By the time I let go his face and throat were nothing more than open wounds and I, along with the walls, and the Klingon, were covered in orange arterial spray.

“That’s the spirit!” the Klingon roared! “I KNEW your people were warriors!” Around us were several more dead Orion pirates that he had taken out with both disruptor fire and his bat'leth. I had been so focused on my own prey that I hadn’t even seen or heard the rest of that fight.

I barely had time to process what had happened, or even start to understand the fierce battle rage that had taken over my senses. He picked me up and I hissed loudly at him.

He was still laughing when he just put me on his shoulder again and took off down the corridor, following directions I had given him before the Orion had attacked.

By the time we hit the other Jefferies tube I was a bit calmer. The crawl was tight for such a large warrior but he didn’t complain as we climbed down a few more levels and came out on the same deck as main engineering.

Other Klingon boarding parties had already started the battle to free engineering and it looked like things were going well for them. We had entered engineering behind two Orions who hadn’t seen us yet. The Klingon let out a battle yell, allowing them time to turn and face us properly for battle before throwing me at the one and running at the other with his bat'leth swinging.

What followed was a repeat of the last situation where I ended up landing on an Orion pirate’s face. I would be washing the stench of their blood out of my fur for weeks I was sure.

The battle raged on for a few more minutes but the security team and Klingon boarding party assigned to the task managed to clear the pirates from the area.

I spent most of that time dismantling a rather ingenious hacking device that was busy trying to take over our computer systems while my Klingon friend defended me, quite loudly.

After the battle the Klingons stuck around to help us with some of the cleanup. I learned that the one I’d fought along side was Lieutenant Kelrok, Son of Krag of the house of Kor. He was among other things a Terran feline enthusiast. Having a great love of all Terran cats, of any size. When he had learned of my people he had studied up on us intensely and to his credit most of what little info he had was very accurate.

Based on the looks of horror the rest of the crew had given me I knew I must have looked fairly horrific, covered in orange Orion blood and gore. I don’t know how long I spent in the sonic shower after the battle, trying to get the stench off of me. To his credit Kelrok also had a few useful tips for cleaning my fur that he’d picked up when cleaning his little hunters (the Klingon equivalent of a skunk is a horror I never want to see, or smell). Trying them had me soaking in a real water bath for a bit but it was well worth the effort when the cleaning formula’s worked their magic.

At the end of it all, the boQ'a' had to tow us to the nearest star base. It took a few weeks longer than it would have otherwise because their ship was only barely able to tow us along but it was better than being stranded and they insisted on helping us as a matter of honor, not wanting us to wait around in potential pirate infested space for a Federation ship to tow us.

I learned over that time that Klingons are scary… VERY scary but Kelrok was always surprisingly gentle with me, even when he was boasting of my battle prowess, rather drunkenly and loudly, he was always gentle when he went to offer affection. I could tell he’d had cats as pets before and had learned a few hard lessons about them. Some of the scars on his hands and arms spoke of some rather intense play sessions with his cats that he always spoke very fondly of. He even admitted to loosing a few “wrestling” sessions with them. After seeing what I had managed to do to the two Orions his fellow shipmates had it seems, stopped giving him grief over admitting that.

My fellow shipmates looked at me with different eyes after that as well. Honestly I got lucky and I’d be the first to admit that. The ships councilor was working overtime trying to help us all deal with what happened. She didn’t quite know what to make of my psychology but she did try her best. The Klingons, scary as they were, were more helpful to me in figuring out how to deal with the fact that I’d found out that despite my being a runt and focusing almost exclusively on my mind, I DID have the battle lust of my people. It was beyond the bog standard hunting instincts that I’d displayed at the Academy that had disturbed some of my classmates. It was the full blown battle frenzy that I’d seen my father and other of the warrior cast display in battle. A warriors blood lust.

It was something I hoped never to see or feel again. I was painfully aware that I was small, far to small to have survived those fights. I got lucky. I also realized that I had gotten lucky in more ways than one. I had taken down prey in hand to hand combat. Not just defeated them in war games but killed them in real life and death combat. That earned me the status of Warrior among my people. It meant that if my feats were confirmed and recognized I would be able to take a pride name. I could if nothing else form my own pride. Sure… it wouldn’t be one of the Great Prides. It would however be MY Pride. I would no longer be ana, or zero, nothing.

The ship was a total loss it would seem. The Rogers was decommissioned because she was only a few years from decommissioning anyway and her base frame had already been refitted almost past it’s original capacity already. So, I was given shore leave to go home and get my head straight and to see if I could get my status as a Warrior confirmed. I have no idea how Harold managed to get the runabout customized for me with part of one arm missing below the elbow but he did. He managed it before they managed to fit him with an artificial replacement arm. The man was a real miracle worker.

As I sat in the custom chair, at a custom console of the Danube-class runabout USS Gila NCC-75018 cruising to my home world at a blisteringly fast Warp 2 I realized that I wouldn’t have long on my home world before my next assignment would begin but, it would hopefully be a very productive few days. My goal of standing among the giants of the universe as an equal were it would seem far more attainable then anyone, including myself had ever thought.

 

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