Last time, T’Chall, D’Magio and Flintlock were suddenly roused from their sleep by the sound of shouting. And a curious Asura was about to make an important discovery.
More woke up with the sound of fighting, but none moved to prevent it when it was seen that Flintlock Burnfur lead a charge with two others. Flintlock took on one of the larger Norn men, as she used her daggers to attack and parry. Her expert skills put to use to dodge and attack. She moved with grace for someone who seemed large and cumbersome.
T’Chall and D’Magio were working quite well together, dealing with the second. The strange nature of the Bat’Leths had confused and confounded the Son of Svanir, but he went on the offensive nonetheless. Both the Caitian and the Ferasan used this to their advantage. One would parry and block any incoming blows while the other would attack a flank. The Norn began to see he was outclassed and outmatched by these two. What was worse, they looked like sleeker and more agile charr. Without the horns. And they sounded similar to charr. D’Magio would roar and growl with each attack, as would T’Chall albeit with a softer sounding growl and hiss. Only Flintlock’s growl was louder. She may have been branded as a pilot, civilized and sophisticated charr, but she was still a charr. And she knew how to dish out an attack in a fight.
The two Sons eventually gave up, fleeing for their lives in the face of such furry.
D’Magio let loose one last roar as she sheathed her Bat’Leth on her back. With a couple of deep breaths she finally spoke in a more common tongue. “That was bracing. But now that that is over with, I’m going back to bed.”
Admiral S’rassi picked up the pad that the Asura had thrown back through the gateway. They had learned a great deal about this planet just by talking with this lone individual and his krew. But this form of communication was taking too long. “Lieutenant T’Vrell,” S’rassi called out to her Vulcan science officer. “Is the gateway stable?”
“We are showing that the gate is stable,” T’Vrell announced. “And the atmosphere on the other side is an oxygen nitrogen atmosphere. I am detecting traces of elements used in a post industrial society, however. I assume that this society is pre-warp.”
“Which means that we should not contact them, Admiral,” a figure said, stepping forward. Five of Seven. An engineering officer aboard the Ocelot, Five was rescued by the crew two years before. Her knowledge of engineering and even Starfleet systems was incredible. “This would go against the Prime Directive.”
“The Prime Directive was proven null and void when T’Chall and D’Magio set foot on that planet,” S’rassi said. “At least I hope it was this planet. T’Vrell, Five, T’Rana. You’re with me.” She motioned to one of the science officers aboard the Panthera. Without hesitation, the Ferasan joined the others. “Time to go practise First Contact Protocol.”