MSNPC Commander Ictoris - I Have a Cunning Plan
griz86
((Operations Centre, Deck 1, RSS Rehhaenen))
The tension on the Rehhaenen was so thick, you could have cut it with a knife.
It was heavy. Oppressive.
Ictoris stood at the central console, looking at the viewscreen. His feet planted shoulder-width and his hands behind his back, but very much not at ease.
The Commander seemed to the crew to be coiled like a spring. Ready to… well, to do something. Although nobody was quite sure *what* he would do next.
He had become unpredictable. Dangerous, even.
At the tactical console, a bead of sweat dripped off of Zannath’s brow and landed on the dimly lit display in front of him.
The Rehhaenen was built to observe this region of space. It was a prototype. The first of many.
Capricalia and its surroundings might not look like much but it was actually crucial.
Praetor Taron, leader of the Free State, claimed to have abolished the Tal-Shiar but the old fool had achieved nothing of the sort. He was deluding himself if he thought he could uproot hundreds of years of tradition and history and simply cast it aside.
No. The Tal-Shiar was alive and well and *they* were working behind the scenes, pulling the strings of the Free State and slowly rebuilding the Star Empire. Recruiting both old and new worlds and peoples to their cause through persuasion where possible… or force, if or when persuasion failed.
Commander Ictoris was a true believer and now that he had spent so much time on the Rehhaenen, he was more convinced than ever that this was going to succeed and that the Star Empire would rise from the ashes of Hobus to once again become the dominant force in the region.
And it all started here.
Once the Tal-Shiar realised what a brilliant job he had done here, he would undoubtedly rise through the ranks like a warbird at maximum warp.
Everything had gone so well so far. He just had to pass this last test and then Capricalia would become part of the Free State, which would be the start of a domino effect.
All that stood in his way was a Starfleet ship that looked like it should be in a museum. No problem.
The smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of his lips as he imagined his promotion ceremony.
For a moment, he was there. He could feel the insignia being pinned onto his uniform…
But to his annoyance, the daydream (or was it a hallucination?) was interrupted.
Zannath: Commander, the Starfleet ship has launched a probe.
The conditions in the nebula at the moment were worse than usual. Though they weren’t able to scan the intruders, they were keeping a close eye on them.
Ictoris heard the words from Zannath but he hadn’t properly processed the information, as the daydream/hallucination slowly faded from his mind’s eye.
Ictoris: …Mmm?
Zannath frowned slightly. It was bad enough that the Commander was as unpredictable as he was but now he wasn’t even listening?
The tactical officer shook his head, partly in response to Ictoris but also to try to shake away the cobwebs. He wasn’t sure how long it had been now but the bridge crew were surely due another hypospray soon. Zannath could feel his grip on reality loosening.
Zannath: The Starfleet ship has launched a probe, Sir.
Ictoris tore his eyes away from the viewscreen and turned to face Zannath.
Ictoris: Indeed. Well, that’s hardly a surprise, is it?
There was an uncomfortable silence. Zannath swallowed hard, nervous about the situation but also because of Ictoris’ wide-eyed glare.
Zannath: …Should we not… do something about it, Sir?
Ictoris smiled but it was not a happy smile. It was not the infectious type of smile or the type that put others at ease. It was the type that inspired fear. Fear of what exactly the wearer had in mind.
The Commander walked slowly towards Zannath, his hands still clasped behind his back.
As he approached the seated tactical officer, he laid a cold, clammy hand on his shoulder.
Ictoris: Don’t worry, Zannath. They can look all they want. As soon as they make any kind of move… that’s when we’ll strike.
Zannath looked up at Ictoris. There was a glint in the Commander’s eye. For the briefest of moments, Zannath could have sworn that Ictoris’ face morphed into that of an aehallh - a kind of spectre from Romulan folklore.
With a gasp and a shake of the head, Zannath blinked hard. When he opened his eyes, Ictoris’ smiling face was staring down at him again.
The Commander squeezed Zannath’s shoulder slightly.
Ictoris: Is everything okay, Zannath?
Zannath: Y… yes, Commander. Can we have another hypospray soon, Sir?
Ictoris patted Zannath in what was supposed to be a reassuring way, but came across as more threatening than anything else, before turning away and walking back to the central console.
Ictoris: Of course, Zannath. ::pausing:: Soon.
TBC
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Commander Ictoris
RSS Rehhaenen
As simmed by
Commanding Officer
Starbase 118 Ops
E239411GF0