Chronicled Event: The Dark Within

Fallen crept through the narrow, low-ceilinged maintenance shaft above the office of General M’Tagra. The Klingon woman was considered by her employers a high priority target, and was to be "dealt with accordingly." Fallen scoffed at the stiff, emotionless phrasing of the Military.

{Something wrong, Fallen?}

(Nope. Just thinking about how I could never be in the military.)

{Ahh, I couldn’t agree with you more.}

Fallen shifted her mind to the task at hand.

(Mom, there are sixteen members of the Order of the Bat’leth between us and M’Tagra. Have you thought about how we’re gonna do this?)

{Sure. Cloak, Exit the maintenance shaft via the bathroom, and wait in his office.}

(The bathroom is out of order. Don’t you think someone would notice us coming out of it?)

{Got a better idea?}

(As a matter of fact, I do.)

Fallen cloaked herself, and opened the seal at the end of the shaft. Not two feet away were two Klingon guards, laughing loudly at the battle stories they were doubtless sharing. Fallen reached out with her mind, overpowering the mind of one of them. The Klingon grunted, coaxing a confused look from his companion’s face. The first Klingon drew his d’k tang and stabbed his companion, then turned the knife on himself. His eyes went wide, and the three pointed blade dove into his abdomen.

Aryien winced as she did every time Fallen killed someone. This time, however, Fallen paid no mind.

Fallen crawled out of the shaft, and pressed a control key on her arm, and disappeared in a ripple effect.

Outside General M’Tagra’s

office, a Caitian named Spitfire was struggling against an overwhelming exhaustion. She was a slim, tan-furred cat-woman, a mercenary paid by M’Tagra as a bodyguard. Spitfire thought for a second, the recognized the telepathic influence behind the exhaustion. Let’s see what you’re after. The Caitian put her head on her desk, and played possum.

 

Fallen slipped past the seemingly unconscious Caitian into M’Tagra’s office. The Klingon woman was middle-aged, but still rather attractive. Her auburn hair was strewn over the desk and her head rested on a stack of padds. The whole complex was sleeping due to a telepathic assault. Fallen decloaked, and walked over behind the woman, pulling a long, slim dagger from her black, skintight bodysuit.

 

Spitfire rose, and peeked into the office to see what was going on. She saw a rather attractive Romulan woman with a red tattoo on her face holding her knife at M’Tagra’s throat. She roared a battle cry that sounded like a hiss, and launched herself at the Romulan woman.

 

Fallen heard the catlike hiss, and launched herself backward into the air. She finished her flip, landing in the corner of the room, and cowered.

 

Spitfire saw that the Romulan had cornered herself, and hesitated for mere seconds, but that was all the time Fallen needed. She lashed out with telekinetic energy, throwing Spitfire through the wall and back into her desk. As the Caitian tried to figure out what happened, she hit a button under his desk, sounding a silent alarm and alerting checkpoints all over the outpost that security had been breached. Then she charged again.

 

Fallen noted that the minds of the soldiers of the colony flared hot orange with alarm, and knew that Spitfire had alerted them somehow. As the Caitian charged her again, she was thinking frantically to herself. ''Why can’t they ever challenge me one on one? Why can’t it ever be a fair fight? Why do they always have to bring in armies? Why…..?'' Fallen was growing increasingly angry with each question.

 

Around Spitfire, time seemed to slow. She felt like she was moving through thick syrup. She turned her eyes to the Romulan woman, engaging her in a telekinetic battle of wills. Then the Romulan burst into flames. And not ordinary flames, these flames were a blood red, unlike the normal red-orange. The flames engulfed her whole body, and then faded. Her black hair had turned red, and her red tattoo had turned black. Her eyes glowed an eerie red. ''What the hell are you? ''Spitfire thought at her, but got no response.

{Oh, fvadt!} Aryien exclaimed as her consciousness was nearly smothered by Fallen’s surge of power. Within her body, flames burned.

 

At Security checkpoint one, Commander Kargok’s nose began to bleed. This was followed by an overwhelming headache. His ears began bleeding as well, and the nosebleed intensified, as if an artery had burst. He bled out and died within the next two minutes.

 

At security checkpoint two, a wave of nausea came over Lieutenant Krelchak. Before his eyes, his commanding officer turned into a Jem’Hadar soldier. Krelchak reached out and snapped his commander’s neck. Then he looked around, and his fellow Klingons had been replaced by Jem'Hadar and Breen, and were fighting each other. He plunged into the chaos.

In M’Tagra’s office, Fallen’s blood red eyes were the only thing showing out of what looked like a black nebula.

(You could’ve kept this between you and me, Spitfire. But now, you’ve damned the whole damn outpost. Hope you can live with the consequences.)

''What the hell are you? ''

Spitfire asked.

(I am everything. I know everything. I feel everything. I feel your pain, I know your brain, and now I feel myself go insane.) 

At security checkpoint three, reports chimed in from the other checkpoints of chaos. Goron looked at his computer monitor as the reports grew more and more depressing, and not long after, the reports showed that each member of his family had been executed due to his own lack of honor. Goron rose, screamed a Klingon death growl, and drew his disruptor, shooting the console he was working at. Electricity arced through him, using his body as a conductor. The blue lightning jumped from body to body, and soon the entire checkpoint team was dead.

 

At the only surviving checkpoint, Captain Kurjek sat alone in his office, unaware of the chaos enveloping the rest of the outpost. He’d been commander of Security Checkpoint Four for nearly two years now, and was waiting rather patiently for a transfer. He turned to the replicator to order a Raktajino, and his door burst open, revealing a crazed Klingon he knew didn’t work at Checkpoint Four. Krelchak charged forward with his Bat’leth raised, and hacked at Kurjek repeatedly, spattering blood all over the already red-tinted room.

 

Spitfire realized she’d never get to Fallen in order to stop her, and could feel the buildup of energy coming from Fallen. So she chose the only viable option she had left. She dove backwards and hid herself in a weapons locker.

Fallen chose that moment to close the deal. In a flash of energy, she blew the building apart. The blast wave continued on to encompass the entire outpost, bringing it to ruins.

As silence fell, the only thing standing was a lone Romulan woman with black hair and a red tattoo.

{Fallen, what the hell was that?} Aryien was scared shitless, and on the verge of a panic attack.

(I don’t know. But... I think we should leave. There’s a bird of prey down to the south of the outpost.)

{Then let’s go. But once we’re far enough away, we’re going to have a nice, long talk.}

 

Four hours later, Spitfire awoke among the ruins. As she surveyed the damage, she could only wonder himself what in hell had just occurred.