Long ago.........
The Gorn captive was dead as soon as the first disruptor blast pierced his heart, and then the next six shots did him no good at all. The Gorn neurosystem, however, is famously slow, and it was several minutes before his body got the message through to his brain that he had been killed. Those minutes were more than enough for him to rip the four Royal Lyran Guardsmen limb from limb, and to get his hands around the neck of the Lyran monarch, King Sten.
"Oh bother," said the Gorn, as he looked at the gaping cavity that had once been his chest. And then he died without further ado.
King Sten was impressed. "Amazing strength and stamina," he remarked, rubbing the welts now forming around his windpipe. "Everything We heard about these strange aliens is true."
Kzinbane, Lyran Minister of Intelligence, bowed in obsequience. "I am so sorry, your majesty!" he lied. "We had no idea he was strong enough to snap those manacles, but they broke as soon as you enterred the room. He must have been biding his time, hopeing for a last chance at vengeance. I told the security team to check the strength of those chains." Kzinbane did not mention that he had weakened the chains himself after having them checked. He felt no need to mention this and end his life, since he still thought he'd make a better king than Sten.
"Shall I have today's security team executed?" He hoped the Royal answer would be yes. The only other possible action for the King was to have Kzinbane executed.
"No," said King Sten, and Kzinbane nearly fainted with dread. "No, the Gorn prisoner has already killed them all for Us. Most impressively, I might add. We will honor him in the appropriate manner. Have both him and Our former guards taken to the royal kitchen and oven-roasted in a basil sauce. Their strength will become Our strength. We will become a better king."
"Right away, your Majesty!" gasped Kzinbane with relief. He bowed until his forehead touched the floor, then backed out of the royal chamber while still in that posture.
"Wait!" cried Sten. Kzinbane paused in the doorway and his fur became matted with nervous sweat. He was certain that the king was going to order him to leap into the ovens after the Gorn and the unfortunate guards. "Bring me the second Gorn ambassador," Sten continued, "the one called Warlock."
"In a basil sauce as well?"
"No, alive. I want to talk to him. I must learn more about these so-called Gorn. And I have a use for him. The Duke of Dark Star County has been complaining of more rebellions from lowly peasants who feel they should be treated as equals with nobility. He has asked Us for a cold-blooded assassin to execute the ringleaders. Well, We may decide to send him an assassin with very cold blood indeed. And we may as well send that *thing* named M'Ress along as well. It would be the first time We had ever gotten any use out of any of *them*. Besides, *they* taste terrible.
"Go and bring this Warlock to Us. We will make him Our offer. If he agrees, he may join Us in celebration by eating his comrade. Ask him what his favorite garnish is for such a dish. If not, we'll add him and M'Ress to the meal."
"Right away, My Liege!" answered Kzinbane, bowing until his entire face was pressed against the floor. Then he fairly sprinted out of the room, bumping his nose along the cobblestones. He wanted to be gone before King Sten asked for any more garnish; perhaps a secretly-regicidal garnish named Kzinbane.
*********
In the cramped galley aboard the Lyran Heavy Cruiser
Potemkin, junior crewman Hexx was having food problems of his own. His plate was filled with wriggling worms. They looked horrible. They tasted horrible. They smelled worse. The only advantage they held as food was that they were alive, while the standard fare for non-officers aboard a Lyran heavy cruiser was always served quite dead.
Hexx held his nose and swallowed another mouthful. Being smaller than his litter-mates, he had grown up eating all the worst food in his family. This food had kept him strong, however, and fueled his hate. He was the only cub of his parents still alive, and all of his siblings had died by his own hand. He was used to rotten food. These worms, too, would keep him strong. Strong enough for revenge.
Hexx stared at five officers walking through the galley, leading livestock into their own mess for dinner. "Officers are worms too," he muttered under his breath. "And some day I will eat all of you alive." He thought on this with satisfication. The thought brought a chuckle to his throat -- something he did not do often -- but no one else heard it. The sound of his spiteful laughter was drowned out by the shouts of another enlisted crewman.
"What is this filth!" screamed crewman Sergie's Claw, waving a handful of worms to the passing officers. "Are these worms from rotten meat? We have had enough of rotten meat!"
One officer deigned to lower himself to respond. "No, it is gagh. It is a delicacy among our Klingon allies, and you lowly peasant crewman should feel privliged that you are allowed to eat it. Do as you are told, and serve your Duchy for once. At least your meal is alive."
"Bah!" cried Sergie's Claw. "This is offal, fit only for Kzinti
animals." The entire galley of assembled crewmen, and all five officers, gasped in horror. Seldom did someone hate something so much that they would actually mention the
Kzinti by name.
"You will
eat! hissed the ranking officer, baring his teeth and unsheathing his claws."
"I will not!"
"You must!", broke in the chef, hoping to avoid trouble in his galley. "We have nothing else to serve."
"Don't be so sure," cautioned Hexx. No one was sure if he was staring at the officers or their livestock when he said this, but everyone knew that both suggestions bore a death penalty.
"Come with me," order Sergei's Claw to the rest of the crewman, and he turned to walk out of the galley. "We will not give them the satisfaction of eating their filth. If they will not give us real food, we will buy our meals in the commisary."
The officers let them go without trouble. They knew they should have killed at least Hexx and Sergei's Claw, but they also knew they were outnumbered 30 to five.
They did, however, carry troubling news to Captain Eyes-in-Side of Head: There was mutiny boiling on the Potemkin.
To be continued......-S'Cipio
Topic: The Fall and Rise and Fall of Hexx (Read 1632 times)