MSNPC Ch'zila: The Oath-Shard
Meris/Brian
((USS Thor, deck 5, Holodeck 4, Invicta Bridge simulation))
The bridge of the Invicta had become a contest of wills rather than weapons. The Federation officers refused to yield, speaking of alliances and help even while staring down a hostage situation and charged plasma rifles. Their insistence that another path existed irritated Ch'zila, yet it also forced the Insectoid to confront a troubling possibility... that these prey truly believed survival did not have to come at the expense of another's. In that moment the struggle was no longer just about seizing the ship, but about whether the swarm’s desperate choice had already gone too far to be undone.
Ch'zila: Pop Hiss Snap Crick... You forget, our young are already inside your vessel. Soon they will awaken and they will be very hungry... Even now, I can hear their shells beginning to crack. Can you not hear it?
Tito: This isn’t the way...
Naledi: Crick Snap Pop Hiss... Agreed, this is getting pointless. We can’t hear the eggs, and they wouldn’t be able to fight us for at least another month anyway.
DeVeau: We’re willing to help you without coercion. Wouldn’t a peaceful solution be better?
For a long moment Ch'zila said nothing. The Insectoid’s compound eyes shifted slowly between the officers standing before them, measuring posture, breathing, hesitation. The swarm leader had expected panic, perhaps rage or reckless heroics, but instead they encountered persistence and patience. These Starfleet officers continued to offer alternatives even while a crewmate was held hostage and plasma rifles were trained on them.
oO They should be afraid. Why are they not afraid? Oo
The reality Ch'zila had been resisting began to settle over them like cold vacuum. Their forces across the ship were silent. Main Engineering had been secured. The bridge crew stood their ground without firing. The swarm leader understood the shape of the battlefield now, and it was not one that favored them.
Desperation crept into their calculations.
Ch’zila: Crick Snap Pop…Very well. If you won't give us this starship, then we will take the brood aboard one of your shuttles. Gurantee our safe passage to the shuttlebay and give us a shuttle and we can end this.
Tito: Computer, Command Code Tito Echo Alpha one seven zero zero. Give me full control of shuttle bays and open them to space on my mark, or if any weapons fire is registered on the bridge.
Not even a second later, the computer spoke.
Computer: Acknowledged.
Tito: Anyone shoot and your Nursery goes flying back to the Badlands
Naledi: Crick Snap Pop Hiss… So, will you stand down? Or face the consequences of what you’ve done?
The words struck Ch'zila harder than any phaser blast could have. For the first time since boarding the vessel, the Insectoid leader felt genuine panic coil through their thorax. The brood pod was built to withstand radiation, storms, and impact... but not the endless emptiness of space. To cast the young into vacuum would not simply kill them. It would erase the future of the swarm.
oO They would destroy the brood to stop me. Oo
Their mandibles snapped open in a reflexive cry.
Ch’zila: Hiss Snap Crack… No! You musn't! The brood is our future!
Tito: Do you really care to risk it? We are offering help... We can help. But we will defend us. The only reason you are not laying on the floor is because we are a Starfleet ship.
Naledi: Crick Snap Pop Pew… We have already given you the benefit of the doubt, it is clear you are desperate. Don’t do anything else stupid and we will all live. Including your offspring.
Ch'zila studied Naledi carefully. The scent carried by the Xindi officer was familiar... shared ancestry layered beneath Federation discipline. The swarm leader knew the humans might carry out such a threat, but Naledi was another matter. Naledi was Xindi. Naledi understood the meaning of brood and continuation.
oO The human might kill them. Oo
oO Their Captain would not. Oo
Naledi: Pew Pop Snap Crack... If it puts it’s weapon down, will you stand down? Accept the help we were already offering?
Ch'zila was about to answer when a chirp sounded from one of the bridge consoles. The sound was small, almost insignificant, but it pulled Naledi's attention away from the standoff and Ch’zila’s attention followed his. Naledi lowered their phaser slightly and nodded toward a nearby Trill officer in blue.
Naledi: Pew Snap Pop... What’s the news, Lieutenant?
The woman smiled broadly before broadcasting the news.
Blue Lieutenant: Security reports the Xindi threat has been neutralized and the bodies, both unconscious and deceased are being moved to Cargo Bay Five.
The words landed like a physical blow. Ch'zila felt the weight of them immediately. Those warriors had followed them into mutiny. They had abandoned their captain and chosen survival alongside the brood... and now they lay unconscious or dead somewhere deep within this foreign vessel.
oO Our soldiers... Oo
Among the swarm there was no separation between leader and follower in death. The bodies of the fallen must be attended and returned to the swarm. They would be prepared to feed the brood upon its hatching. Ch'zila felt the obligation settle over them with solemn finality. It was the last measure of devotion to the swarm and was sacred among their people. The hive wasted nothing, including the bodies of its fallen.
DeVeau: Captain, I think it would be wise to check on the children.
The statement caught Ch'zila off guard. Their head tilted slightly toward the Betazoid officer, their mandibles clicking once in faint confusion. Compassion from prey toward the offspring of their attackers was not a reaction the Insectoid leader had predicted.
oO Is this deception? Oo
Ch’zila: Crick Hiss Smack… Our young are safe within the brood pod. It is heavily shielded.
Naledi/Tito: Response.
DeVeau: I know you are all resistant to radiation, but the Badlands aren’t a normal area of space, and children, even children of such a hardy species, are more susceptible.
The swarm leader considered this carefully. Radiation shielding protected against external harm, but internal stress could still damage developing larvae. Even the strongest species guarded their young with caution and it was entirely possible – albeit unlikely – that the brood pod could have been damaged before or during its trek through the Badlands.
oO They are trying to protect the brood... or trying to trick me. Oo
Either possibility required attention.
Ch’zila: Pop Snap Chirp… If your Captain will agree to give us the shuttle, we will leave this vessel with our brood. They will no longer be any of your concern.
Naledi/Tito: Response.
DeVeau: It’s not just radiation. Stress, even before birth…er…hatching…can negatively affect the health of the children, even right before emerging. We don’t really want to send them into space, but if you allow us to help you and them, then we can stop all this before it gets worse.
Ch'zila considered the words of the negotiator. If the Federation officers truly meant to help, then the brood could survive. If they were lying, then the swarm leader still had one final bargaining chip.
They turned toward their soldiers and clicked a short command.
The warriors released Cleo Hathaway from their palp immediately.
The human stumbled free and ran across the bridge to where Horsk caught her by the shoulders. The Zakdorn helm officer pulled her behind their console with surprising gentleness for someone who looked moments away from charging the enemy.
Ch’zila: Snap Pop Crack… I am choosing to believe you will keep your word. We release this human in exchange for the safety of the brood and a shuttle upon which to transport them and ourselves.
Naledi/Tito: Response.
The decision that followed was not easy. Ch'zila had led a mutiny and tried to seize a Federation vessel, but now every calculation led to the same conclusion. The brood must come first.
Slowly, deliberately, the swarm leader lowered their plasma rifle and placed it on the deck. One by one the remaining mutineers followed suit.
Ch'zila did not trust the Starfleet officers completely. They could not risk the brood being confiscated and returned to some Xindi colony where the young would be taken from them forever. But survival demanded risk, and the swarm leader understood that stubborn pride would doom them all.
The Xindi-Insectoid leader then drew their blade from the sheath on their carapace, its chitinous segments catching the bridge lighting with an oily shimmer.
Ch’zila: Hiss Chirp Rattle… As a sign of good faith, I turn over my Oath-Shard. Its edge carries my scent, my service, and my surrender.
Naledi/Tito/DeVeau: Response.
A thin mist of submission pheromone drifted from the vents along Ch’zila’s thorax. The scent was sharp and metallic, unmistakable to any who understood insectoid ritual.
The Insectoid leader rotated the blade so the edge faced inward, the traditional posture of offering. Their mandibles clicked once in final resolve before extending the bloodied knife toward Naledi with both hands.
Ch’zila: Pop Crack Snap… Take it, and with it, the truth of my intent.
Naledi/Tito/DeVeau: Response.
---
Lieutenant JG Meris
Helmsperson
USS Thor
A240207M14