Skitter Skitter

Posted on May 26, 2014 @ 9:06pm by
Edited on on Jun 05, 2014 @ 8:49am

Mission: The Tangled Webs We Weave
Location: Unidentified Vessel
Tags: Pygram

= Skitter Skitter =

(cont'd from "Sabotage")


LOCATION: Unidentified Vessel
SCENE: Bridge
STARDATE: [2.14] 0514.1156

The doctor stepped out onto the bridge. He could immediately sense the discomfort he caused the rest of the command crew: everyone seemed to stand or sit a little straighter, and they would unconsciously lean slightly away from him as he walked by, as if he were a mass of crawling beetles and they didn’t want to get any on them.

Beetles. Sometimes, he saw himself as a column of beetles, or spiders, or snakes; a writhing collection of crawling legs and teeth in the shape of a man. He imagined letting go, falling backwards to explode against the ground, all the skittering pieces of him free to crawl away in a thousand different directions to bite and sting-

“Doctor Pygram?” Deakins said, suddenly appearing at the doctor’s side. Pygram slid his eyes over to look at him.

“Yes,” Pyrgram said quietly. It wasn’t a response to the young man’s question. Instead, it sounded like an affirmation:

**Yes, I am Pygram. Pygram is me.**

And somewhere, lower:

**Skitter skitter.**

“Doctor, we’ve located the USS BORLAUG,” Deakins continued. “We’ll be in weapons range in 3 minutes.”

“The cloaking device?” Pygram asked.

“It’s been active since before they entered the system,” Deakins said. “There’s no indication that they’ve seen us.”

“Okay,” Pygram nodded. Deakins seemed to double in his vision: one was the middle-aged human male with the neatly groomed goatee, sandy brown hair, and the ugly scars that seemed to crawl upward out from beneath the collar of his uniform, staring at Pygram with the grim determination that seemed permanently etched into his features. The other Deakins seemed to hang from a chain, his face twisted up in unimaginable agony, his body ripped open from collar to groin…

Pygram closed his eyes. His double-vision was bad today, but there was work to do, and Deakins could be trusted to do it with minimal supervision.

“Shall we engage?” Deakins was saying.

“Yes,” Pygram nodded. “You know what to do.”

Pygram slumped into the captain’s chair, eyes closed, trying to ignore the crawling feeling underneath his skin, while the crew went to work around him.

----------------------------------------------------

Lawrence Deakins stepped forward, ignoring the slumped form of Abel Pygram in the captain’s chair. Deakins knew better than to try to rouse Pygram when he get like this. Pygram would call it one of his “headaches”, but Deakins knew better: the doctor was probably hallucinating again.

Deakins’ hand traced the scars that peeked out from his collar. He knew exactly the sort of man Abel Pygram was, and he didn’t want to imagine the waking nightmares Pygram routinely experienced. But shaky as it was, Pygram’s grasp on reality remained strong enough that he allowed Deakins to assume command whenever one of his “episodes” left him incapacitated.

“Begin establishing the link with the BORLAUG’s system,” Deakins said. The young man at the operations station went to work.

“Sir, the BORLAUG is sending out a system-wide hail,” the woman at the tactical station reported. “They’re looking for their missing shuttle.”

“And Lt. Commander Salus,” Deakins said. “They must think his ship crashed.”

“Sir,” the ops officer reported. “They’ve noticed the computer link. They’ve increased their scans.”

“They won’t see us,” Deakins said. “Move into firing range.”

The USS BORLAUG appeared on the main viewer. It was a mid-range scout vessel, standing crew of less than 100 souls. Its armament and defense would make it more than a match for Pygram’s ship, but that wouldn’t matter. Deakins had no idea how Pygram was choosing his targets, but his plan of attack had always worked so far.

And even if it didn’t, well… Deakins was good at improvising.

“Computer link established,” ops reported. “Standing by with the command codes.”

“Don’t lower their shields until we’re in torpedo range,” Deakins said. He glanced back at the tactical officer and raised an eyebrow.

“Thirty seconds,” she reported.

“Ready torpedoes,” Deakins ordered.

“Sir, their hail has changed,” tactical reported.

Deakins shrugged. “Put it through.”

[[Unidentified vessel,]] came a female voice, speaking with authority and just a hint of forced calm. Probably not the captain, Deakins thought. Maybe the 2nd or 3rd officer. That meant the captain wouldn’t be on the bridge.

Deakins never smiled, but sometimes he was tempted. No captain on the bridge… that would make things simple.

[[We have detected your interface with our ship’s computer,]] the voice continued. [[We mean you no harm, but we must insist that you sever this connection at once. Our systems are encrypted, you will not be able to access our primary computer.]]

“Target the bridge,” Deakins said. “One torpedo should do the trick.”

A weak voice from behind him: “Lawrence.”

Deakins turned. Pyrgram hadn’t opened his eyes, and was rubbing his temples rhythmically, but was aware enough that he’d apparently been following the conversation.

“The captain lives,” Pygram said weakly. “No bridge.”

“The captain will survive, doctor,” Deakins said. “You have my assurance.”

“If the captain dies…”

“I understand the consequences,” Deakins said. “You put me in charge for a reason.”

Pyrgram seemed to nod weakly. “Do it.”

Deakins turned to look at the tactical station.

“Approaching torpedo range,” she reported. “In three… two… one…”

“Drop their shields,” Deakins said. “Fire.”

The shimmering orb of orange fire shot out now, angling up to slam into the USS BORLAUG. No shields were there to absorb the hit, and it ripped through the hull of the other ship in an instant. Immediately, the BORLAUG seemed to list to the side, plasma fires chewing around the edges of mortal wound. Deakins nodded his approval.

“Monitor for escape pods,” he said. “We’ll get a team sent over to sweep the ship.”

“The captain lives,” Pygram repeated. He said it quietly enough that Deakins wondered if Pygram was talking to him, or to himself.

“No one kills the captain,” Deakins said. “The rest of the crew is expendable.”

The crew went to work. Deakins turned and crouched next to Pygram.

“Doctor,” he said quietly. “Perhaps you should rest. There will be prisoners soon.”

“Edgerton?” Pygram asked. He opened his eyes, but they had a faraway look, and Deakins didn’t think Pygram could see him.

Deakins shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “We’re getting closer.”

Pygram nodded. “I’m trying to be patient, Lawrence.”

“I know, doctor,” Deakins said.

“Work to do,” Pygram said. His eyes seemed to clear. “Bring me the captain.”

Pygram stood, steadying himself against Deakins as he did. He went on shaky legs to the turbolift. When the doors opened, the interior of the lift was covered wall-to-wall in blood that Pygram knew only he could see.

**Good that there will be prisoners soon,** he thought. He always felt better after some company.

======================================================

NRPG: Wanted to do some writing this morning, but I didn't want to interrupt any posts others might be working on, so I thought we'd check in on the good Doctor Pygram...


Shawn Putnam

a.k.a.

Jake Crichton, Commander

Chief of Engineering

USS DISCOVERY