Scouting for the Wolff

Posted on Thu Aug 1st, 2024 @ 9:57am by Civilian Dokken

1,073 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: A marathon not a sprint
Location: Crocell's War Room

If the sound of the Crocell's engines could be heard in the cold icy vacuum of space, it would sound like an old steam engine freight train hauling a heavy load in the dead of winter along steel tracks. The ship had been on its way to the Mazar system when technical difficulties had resulted in several hours of a delay. The Crocell had to spend a 'layover' in a rather large J class nebula collecting deuterium and some ore from a nearby asteroid belt. The Crocell's incompetent ship's engineer was removed of his position swiftly. It was difficult to continue one's position with a small blade wedged between your ribs, compliments of a very displeased Dokken; however, it could be argued that the engineer was fortunate that Dokken was in a relatively pleasant mood.

If he had wanted him dead, he would have gone for a more precarious placement of his blade, and he certainly would not have been so merciful to have the man escorted to the ship's medical bay. It had been Dokken himself that had led the repairs to the Crocell’s engines, a true sight for the motley crew of privateers to see. The man (if that was what he was) underneath the mask clearly had a decent prowess of engineering though nobody had the gull to ask their commander where he acquired his technical skills.

The Crocell itself was a magnificent ship albeit hodge podged together with modifications using technology from several galactic powers. Some of it was definitely Romulan, some of it Klingon, and there were a few aspects of it that screamed Cardassian. The interface itself appeared to have been some sort of perversion of a Federation based design. Even though it was a bit cobbled together on the inside, the exterior was sleek and intimidating.

Dokken would only remove his helmet if necessary for repairs, but even then, he wore a mask that kept much of who he was obscured from an inquisitive crew that had come to respect him out of fear. He ran a tight ship because it was required. It was the only way that this crew was going to be successful. After several hours of repair work, the Crocell had been back underway and pushing at high warp speed to Mazar only for the realization that it was too late. A meeting with his advisors was held in the Crocell’s War Room.

“The Marathon is already underway with its escort, the Wolff,” one of Dokken’s appointed advisors said. It was a Zakdorn male who then went through various tactical updates for Dokken to review. Strategy and tactics held the key for their mission to be successful. It was something that Dokken knew well.

He slammed his fist down on the arm rest of a black leather sofa. The War Room was like none on a military vessel or a Federation Starship. It was less of a briefing room and more of a lounge, one Dokken had designated for these discussions away from the less trusted and arguably less useful crew. “The Wolff” Dokken said with a tone of agitation. “Of course. I should have anticipated this assignment would go to them” added Dokken.

The two advisors in the room looked at Dokken. The other advisor, a woman spoke. “You are familiar with this Federation starship” she stated.

Dokken growled lowly muttering something incoherent. The he simply replied “It has been an nuisance to our employer for some time” before adding “And it is time for the Wolff and its Captain to face repercussions.” Dokken shook his head. “The pathway to securing what we need is through the Wolff.”

His tactical advisor remained silent momentarily. “We missed our opportunity to reach Mazar before the Wolff’s arrival. The convoy…” He paused. It was not much of a convoy. “The Marathan and the Wolff have already left.”

“The opportunity is with the element of surprise” Dokken countered. “We still have the advantage. Strength through numbers, victory through force. If the Wolff intends to stand in our way, we will take a pack approach and tear at its throat.”

The woman smirked. “What did you have in mind? Two Federation vessels may be too much for our ships.”

Dokken stood from his seat. “We send our fiercest two vessels to intercept them” he prefaced. “They will not be able to defeat the Wolff alone, but if they delay them enough, we can close in and finish the job.” Dokken walked over to a table and reached for what appeared to be a Federation data PaDD. “The Wolff is a Luna class starship. Its role is that of a long range explorer by default, she was neither designed nor constructed to face an onslaught.”

The tactical advisor was impressed by how prepared Dokken seemed to be. “They were foolish enough to send a ship of science and exploration for escort detail?”

“Do not underestimate the Wolff nor its Captain. She’s a Trill, and notoriously cunning” Dokken quipped lashing at his advisor verbally before insulting him in a language the translator was able to process. The insult indirectly indicated that the Zakdorn’s mother had been unfaithful to his father, and he was a product of infidelity. “Dispatch a scout ship. Find the Marathon and provide us with coordinates. Reroute our vessels and have them on standby.”

The Zakdorn was dismissed by Dokken, leaving him with the woman. “You have a few hours” he said to her.

She looked at him curiously like a cat stalking its prey. “For…”

Dokken handed her the PaDD. “Become intimately familiar with Taliserra Tigran. I want a psychological profile before we engage with the Wolff. I want us to know where to hurt her. Where to inflict the most pain.”

The woman smiled. “Why? She will be dead when we arrive to destroy the Wolff” she said approaching Dokken and seductively pressing against him.

Dokken slapped the advisor across the jaw, slapping the taste from her mouth and letting the oxidized copper-based blood coat her sharp tongue. “I only kill when I want to. You don’t speak for what I want, and you sure the hell don’t speak to what I crave” he added pushing her away from him. “Next time you in my presence, come dressed as part of this crew, not as some amton'wi'kha” he said gesturing for her to leave immediately.

 

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