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A Captivity Story | Part I

Posted on Fri Oct 27th, 2017 @ 4:56am by Fleet Admiral Donatella Figueroa & Admiral Ke'gak

Mission: S01E01 - At the Brink of Night
Location: Unknown
Timeline: A Few Months Ago

I owe it to the peerless stars
Which flame in the remotest sky
That I see only with spent eyes
Remembered suns I knew before.

In vain I had at heart to find
The center and the end of space.
Beneath some burning, unknown gaze
I feel my very wings unpinned

Captain Donatella Figueroa's uniform was torn, sliced and split by the barbaric hands of the savage Klingons. Their bladed weapons had ripped the dark mustard yellow uniform in several places. The flesh of her torso and breast exposed. Her face beaten and bruised. Her body strung up, chained and shackled to the the wall or bulkhead of wherever she was. How many days? How many nights she had gone in and out of consciousness when they tortured her with those sticks. Those sticks that illuminated and were jabbed into her stomach and chest causing excruciating pain. To say that was the worst of it would be pleasant, but it was not. It was far from being the most excruciating pain she had to undergo through this whole ordeal. Donatella had no idea how long she had been held captive. The days and nights began to blend once they reached double digits.

They killed them. They killed her officers, the ones she and the others had come to rescue. It was sickening. Purely savage and sickening. Why keep them alive for several days just to murder them? she had thought the first few nights she was a prisoner of war. Then it all made sense. It came to her one night as one of the Klingons, the one she learned was named Ke'gak. He was a Commander of sorts. She had met him in battle several times during the war, always getting the best of him, but not now. Now, she was the one who had been made a fool. He could not have cared less about the hostages he had taken from the Musashi The only reason he and the other Klingons kept them alive was to use them against her, to use them as bait. Once she took that bait, they were expendable entertainment.

Executing them in front of her had been the plan the whole time. Use them to get to her, bring her to them and ambush her. Take her as captive. Ke'gak had them all slaughtered in front of her. Several were executed swiftly by beheading. Others were ripped open, their intestines lefts dangling out from their body as they bled our pleading for their Captain to save them or to tell their families that they were sorry and that they loved them. One of those who died the most painfully and slowly confessed his love for another crewmen. The two men had one moment holding one another's hands before the one watched the other get shot by a Klingon distruptor. The cries for mercy fell on deaf Klingon ears. The pleas for their Captain to save them... Captain Figueroa could do nothing. She was as helpless as them, a feeling she never wanted to experience in her life and career. The dark mustard yellow skirt portion of her uniform had was dingy and blood stained from Ke'gak's 'nightly interrogation' which left Figueroa in more pain than she would ever express to anyone if she ever got out of this alive.

Ke'gak was back to torture her, beat her, and break her. He had been more successful at the first two than at the latter. She used all her Starfleet training to hold onto hope and to not allow herself to be broken. She was not going to betray the Federation. She would die before she told him anything of strategic use against the Federation. Her face was met with a strong handed fist across her jaw. She felt two or three teeth shoot straight across to the other side of her mouth and the blood filling her mouth. She held it in until he got closer. Then, she let him have it. Right in the face she spat the blood and her mouthful of teeth. “BASTARD!” she shouted at him. “I will tell you NOTHING!” she added with anger.

Ke'gak chuckled. He cared very little about how much pain he caused this woman. It wasn't enough. The war had taken it's toll on the Klingon. It all but destroyed his life and his family, but Ke'gak didn't blame the war. He blamed the woman hanging from the wall in front of him. His rage burned him like a furnace inside of his chest. His hate was bliding. It was only through sheer force of will that he hadn't already skinned her alive. Not that he didn't want to. It had crossed his mind. He even brought his favorite skinning knife with him.

Today, he had an older technique in mind. In the small room that was her cell there was also a table. Ke'gak went to the table and set a heavy duffle on the surface. He looked at her as he took a seat on a stool next to the table and unzipped the bag. When he reached inside there was the sound of metal on metal, scraping against each other. He lifted an item out of the bag that looked something like a meat tenderizer. It was vaguely hammer-shaped but it was made of metal and the flat parts of the hammer were covered in spikes. He set it on the table. It definitely had heft to it because of the solid clunk it made on the table.

He continued in this fashion. The tools were terrifying. They looked as if they were for all sorts of cutting, pulling, twisting and possibly branding. He carefully arranged them on the table until they were all lined up. Of course, all of this in perfect view of Donatella. He wasn't sure that he was even going to use any of them on her, but he wanted her to see his collection. It was nice selection, if he had to say so himself. He spun around on the stool to face her, a wide grin on his face. "I thought you should select something from the menu... then perhaps music and a little dancing." He indicated the tools laid out on the table, suggest that might be the menu he was referring to.

The tortured and captive Captain glared at the Klingon. “How romantic of you to come down here and play music for me. The lighting is just perfect to set the mood. This must be how you treat all your women,” she replied mustering as much strength as she could to even have a voice after everything he had done to her. “I am a Federation Starfleet Captain you barbaric Klingon scum,” she said bitterly. “The Federation won’t let you get away with this!” Fig shouted. She looked at his ‘menu’ and turned her head. Why haven’t they rescued me yet, she thought to herself.

Fig looked back at him. “Take your menu and shove it,” she added thrashing around trying to free herself.

"A Klingon woman would be honored to be with me." He stood up and brought the tenderizer with him, approaching her slowly. Her chains were fastened to the wall on a huge wheel that allowed them to be adjustable. He put one hand on the wheel. Each turn would pull her higher and higher off the ground, slowly pulling her arms out of the sockets. He loosened the rope that held the giant wheel in place. For a moment he let it go slack. "You think you understand everything, don't you?" He slid the mallet into a leather strap on his belt that fit like it was made for the hammer, the he put both hands on the wheel and tightened it until Fig was so far off the ground that only her toes were touching the ground. "Just remember, Captain... you brought this on yourself."

Fig rolled her eyes and winced in pain. You son of a bitch she thought at he began the torture. "I pity your women then," said Fig as the pain began to take its toll on her. "I bet you could not even satisfy a woman if you tried. Such a small..." she looked at him disgusted as she remembered what had been done to her. "That's the only way you can get a woman, isn't it? You just grab them and take them," she growled. "I understand enough to know you are NOTHING, Ke'gak. Absolutely nothing!"

Ke'gal laughed again. "Klingon women are made of much stronger stuff than you humans. All of this would be considered foreplay. So see, I am just warming you up. Eventually you will start to see things my way. It's rather like taming a wild targ. They can be dangerous when you first get them. Their tusks are sharp, but they respect control. Once you show them who's boss and that they can benefit from your relationship then often they will change their minds. Of course, not all are like that. Sometimes they are too old, too stubborn." He spoke calmly and with confidence. Almost like she was a child and he was trying to teach her a lesson. He stepped toward the door and touched the only control panel in the dirty, dingy room. A piece of a popular Klingon opera began to play over speakers that weren't visible. Ke'gak listened for a moment, putting out one finger and "conducting" to the music. "It's always been one of my favorite pieces... I believe your people have a saying... Music soothes the angry beast. This is opera singer Barak-Kadan. The piece was actually written by Keedera. Enjoy it. I think you will find it's rather catchy after a while."

“Don’t hold your breath... or do. Yes, do hold it until you turn blue and die a worthless sack of ridges,” she shot back. “One flaw, Ke’gak,” she said shaking her head. “I’m not a Targ and I will not be broken.”

Ke'gak turned and returned to Donatella. "Mm... and small I am not. I might not be the tallest, but I make up for it in other ways." Ke'gak didn't think he was actually an ugly Klingon. He actually thought quite the opposite. He jabbed a thick finger into Fig's chest, hard. "I had everything I needed... everything I wanted... and YOU... took it all away from me." He jabbed her again, hard enough to leave a bruise, and grabbed the front of her uniform. "And you, Starfleet, are nothing..." He yanked on the uniform hard with one hand, ripping the already badly damaged material almost completely off of her as it split right down the middle. He yanked the spiked mallet from it's holster and raised it, as if to strike her with it, but the blow never came. He lowered it slowly and caressed the spiked side across her now exposed stomach. The spikes were sharp enough to scratch her skin easily. "I think I might just give you some time to think about what I've said..." he said softly and turned away from her. He left everything just where it was, confident that she would not be able to remove her chains to get at any of the tools, but she could look at them all she wanted. Contemplate what they could possibly be used for. He exited the door, tapping the panel again as he passed by it.

“I could use the rest. I am growing tired of you,” she growled back in response.

About an hour later the lights went out for the first time since Donatella had been imprisoned. It left her in complete darkness, with nothing but the sound of the loud Klingon opera piece playing over and over and over from the speaker.

She had done her best to drown out the music, to block it from her mind. She knew that the Musashi was not much of a match for the Klingons on its own. She had tried that and failed terribly. But why was she still here held captive? Had they left her for dead? Why not send in several starships and kick Klingon ass? Please...come back for me. Get me out of here she thought. He was breaking her faith and spirit. She was not going to let him know it though.

The lights came back on hours later, or was it days. A Klingon that had not been in the room before brought a bowl of something that looked like fish guts and smelled worse. "You better eat this... it's all you're going to get offered," he snarled in a low tone.

It had been days since she had more than a few bites of something that smelled rotten to eat. It had probably been rotten given the stomach cramps and digestive problems she had for days afterwards. She looked at the guts and turned up her nose. “I would rather starve to death than dine as a prisoner,” she said turning her head away. “The War is over. The Federation is trying to hold the peace between our people... Ke’gak is destroying that by holding me captive. He’s already killed several members of my crew. There’s blood on his hands, but you do not need to suffer for his sins,” she said trying to work the new face into her grasp. “I don’t want your people to suffer because of the actions of one fool,” she added. “My people have been there before. On my home world centuries ago, there were leaders like Ke’gak in charge of our governmental powers. Reckless tyrants who damned us towards war,” she added.

The Klingon sneered and turned away from her. "Suit yourself. He's right, you know. Humans are stupid." He spit on her feet and tossed the bowl of food at her, upturning it's contents all down her front, the bowl clattering to the ground. He headed for the door. "Hope you like rats..." As soon as the door shut behind him the lights clicked off again.

Fig looked around once the lights went out, the rats came. I like them a lot more than I do Klingons she thought to herself. How long? How long can I last? How long until someone gets me out of here? she thought and practically prayed. They had broken her to the point of prayer albeit her 'Gods' and 'Godesses' were the men and women of Starfleet whom she desperately pleaded to come save her.


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