[USS Vanguard] The Hunt Is On.

  • From: Kieran Darkwater <kierandarkwater@xxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: ncv80221@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Mon, 19 Jul 2004 22:03:17 +0100 (BST)

Kieran let out a barely audible sigh ? a sigh that echoed like a thousand 
phasers in his own ears, almost drowning out his thumping heartbeat ? at the 
muted sound of Sam?s voice.


He made it? The realisation was affirming, a sign that fate was on their side. 
The warning, however, was stark ? ??it looks like you?ve got company too!?


He already had his tricorder out, reviewing the details of the uploaded scan, 
and surveying their route.


?How are you at Cardassian physiology?? he asked in a hushed whisper, spotting 
a potential weak-point in the layered guards. Pointing to the display he showed 
where the movement patterns isolated two of the cardassians at a narrow 
junction devoid of sight-lines from other guards.


?Here, but we?ll need to be quiet.? Cynan simply nodded, once, cracking his 
knuckles gently and turned towards the route they?d have to take. The harsh, 
clunking footsteps of the guards was typically of the sort of institutionalised 
arrogance so successfully bred of totalitarian regimes, and gave the pair ample 
clues of when to move and when to hide in doorways until they found themselves 
at the appointed point. They had no time to prepare, simply stuffing themselves 
behind some untidily bundled packing crates, another sign of the hasty 


The boots, when they appeared, were exactly what he would have expected ? 
sturdy, dour, solid and unimaginative ? as they appeared before his face. 
Something harsh and guttural was passed in the sibilant, hissing Cardassian 
tongue, and then they both turned away. Kieran rose on near silent feet, 
catching the sight of Cynan across from him as he punched out.


Curled fingers, the first joint his index- and little-fingers protruding, 
lashed out at what would have been chest height for a human, driving into the 
two pulmonary ganglia located either side of the spinal ridge, disrupting the 
guard?s breathing rhythm. The figure kept it?s discipline well enough to lash 
out with its rifle, spinning about as it tried to gasp out a shout, but Kieran 
stepped inside the swing, catching the metal with both hands and ramming his 
elbow high and foreward, striking a the soft spot at the central ridge of the 
skull. The figure went rigid, suddenly stunned into insensibility, the eyes 
glazing and rolling back into his head.


?He?s gone?? he pointed out, turning to see Cynan with his forearm locked 
across the other Cardassian?s throat, seeing the same rolled-up eyes.


?He?s not gone limp.? Cynan growled.


?He won?t ? Cardassian musculature tenses when it loses conscious signals. 
Probably something to do with their arborial lizard heritage ? limp saurials 
drop out of trees.?

Within a few seconds the pair were stuffed into the crates and closed in, and 
the pair advanced slowly into the dim recesses of the bunker, wondering what 
they would find further in.

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