Unity – Icon of Dominance
by Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal & Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
ON:
"There!" Tharek shouted as two Cardassians dropped a couch. It was beautiful, by Cardassian standards. A beige coloured leather with brown threading. He stood for a minute and admired it. The other two men had left Tharek to his own business.
It looked expensive and probably was knowing Tharek. He thought that money made more power than being 'friendly' in modern times. But, sometimes fear was better for getting respect than money. He was reverting to this method for a moment as he thought of the Romulan Ambassador, Isha. She was treading on his plans with Rh'vaurek, and he didn't like it. Let's pay that piece of skrăgh a visit.
---
"Send him away!" Isha emphasised her point with a flick of her wrist as she rose. She did not have time for the Cardassian, not any more. As the functionary bowed and retreated Isha moved toward the vast window at the back of her office, goosebumps prickling on the exposed skin of her arms as she gazed out on the starscape beyond.
The aide withdrew and walked slowly down the corridor. She had been given this role by default after the ambassador had sacked without ceremony or explanation her predecessor and she was not yet used to the rigmarole of turning away those who thought they were important.
Before she turned the corner she breathed deeply then stepped on.
"The ambassador is engaged," she told the Cardassian.
"Vole shit." He said defiantly. "You have two choices here. The first is to be smart, and let me in. The second is that I throw you through the door of her office and come in anyway. Choose wisely." Tharek said with a cold and sadistic smile at the end of his sentance.
Her eyes flicked from side to side, security was conspicuous in its absence. Without their support, in the face of the Cardassian a head taller than her she was more conscious of her own wellbeing than the ambassador's; besides, she thought, the ambassador had people on call, she did not.
Without a word she took her place behind her desk and turned her attention to the screen as though she was alone.
"Smart." Tharek said with a flick at the corner of his mouth. He then continued on his path toward the ambassador, and something that could get him knee deep in Romulan trouble...
He barged through the door and immediately stared behind the desk at Isha. "Hello dear ambassador." Tharek said, wincing as if the words left a physically bad taste in his mouth.
Had she been at her desk Isha would have summoned security, but she was at the window when he arrived and by the time she had turned he was between her and her desk. She stopped half way, dissapointed that her ceremonial weapons were also at the far side of the room.
Isha folded her arms, "Another assistant I must dismiss," she remarked appraising the Cardassian through narrowed eyes. "What do you want, Getal?"
"I want you to keep your nose out of my business!" He exclaimed, pointing his finger at her with a sharp and heavy movement. He knew that at the first opportunity she got, she would call security or lunge for anything that she could plunge into his neck. He had his eye on her every movement.
"Your business is far beneath my interest, Getal," Isha replied following the line of the window at an easy pace. Having encountered them in their dozens, not least in her husband's House, Isha did not react to bullies. She also knew there was a door that would take her to her suite and from there she could have the Cardassian neutered.
"That might be so, but your incessant snooping is grabbing mine." He stepped a couple of feet closer to her. So far his 'attempts' at introducing fear were failing. He decided a new tactic was in order. He bent over, and removed a blade from his boot. It was elegant, and stained a dark red. Tharek plunged it a centimetre into the desk and glared at Isha with burning eyes.
"And did that display achieve your aim?" Isha stepped forward, grasping the knife. A pull and she threw it aside letting it clatter to the floor before she spoke again. "As a formerly powerful man, how does it feel to be reduced to impotent posturing," she enquired meeting his gaze without fear.
He was rusty, no doubt. It had been several years since he had last interrogated, or killed, a person. Isha was making a mockery of him, and he didn't like it. He stood erect and slicked back a few out of place hairs. Tharek then strode around the desk to her, the flame still burning in his eyes. He stood less then a foot away from her, and whispered down into her ear. "Formerly powerful?"
He lunged at her arms with both hands, pushing her against the nearest wall. The impact sounded painful, and probably was. He then exerted an extraordinary amount of strength, and held her in the air, so she met his eye sight. "How's this for impotent posturing?"
The attack was sudden and unexpected. Isha gasped as the breath was knocked out of her lungs and before she had time to recover his fingers were digging into her arms and her feet were off the floor.
"Let go of me," she demanded through gritted teeth. She kicked at him, but without any leverage her legs caught in her skirt and she succeeded only in loosing a shoe, it hit the tiled floor and rolled in the direction she had thrown the knife. Why had she let go of it? Isha asked herself in the same moment, a weapon would give her some comfort.
Short of options Isha did the one thing open to her, she sucked on her teeth and spat directly into Getal's face. There was a frustrated rage behind the glare she fired back at him; Isha was not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream.
"Your not very smart for someone in your position." He said, as he let the spit run down his face. It didn't phase him really, he was more focused on his new technique of fear. "I was nice at first, we played a nice little game." He said, smiling. "But then, you had to go and snoop. And that's something I can't allow."
He lent in closer to her. "You interfere with my plans again, and I will kill you. Do I make myself perfectly clear," He slammed her once more against the wall. He spoke through gritted teeth now, "or is more of this neccessary?"
This time Isha's skull followed her back into the wall jarring her neck and knocking askew one of the jewelled bodkins that held her hair up.
Was she not even safe in her own embassy? A redundant question given that she had been abducted from this very room not long before. Nausea burned in the pit of her stomach, the acidic soup threatening to boil its way into her throat prompted as much by the pain in her head as by her own paralysis.
Why could she not fight back?
Isha e-Khellian i-Ramnau t'Illialhlae, head of one Great House and heir to another, descended in a line unbroken from the original settlers, who had the blood of Praetors, Senators and warriors pulsing through her veins was not a victim, yet as Getal held her there, his fetid breath warm against her skin, it was all she could do to prevent herself from crying.
The words she forced through her dry lips were inaudible.
"I can't hear you, Romulan!" He spat at her. Tharek increased the grip on her arms, digging his fingernails into her skin. By the look on her face, Tharek had done what he had come to do. "Speak, Romulan!"
All Rh'vaurek's warnings about this man were with her now as the Cardassian's cruel fingers pressed into her flesh, and his dark eyes held hers. Respect for the social niceties that usually protected her seemed not to matter to him, she was not anything in his eyes. He was, Isha understood, what Rh'vaurek referred to as 'a professional' - someone just as ruthless as Rh'vaurek himself.
"I haven't done anything," she managed to say feeling the prick of moisture in the corners of her eyes.
"Wrong!" He shouted as he finally let her down, throwing her across the room. Intentionally into a corner, away from any sort of weapon. "Now, I'm not all bad. If you never interfere in my business again, I leave you alone." Tharek strode across the room and picked his knife back up. "But, if you ever cross me again. I will skin you and use your hide as a rug."
Isha skidded, crumpled landing heavily on her leg. She paused for a moment where she had fallen at the point at which the wall met the window. Her hair had fallen loose but she made no effort to correct it as she drew several deep, scouring breaths hearing his feet as he moved though she had not yet raised either her gaze or her head. Despite the ache in her upper arms Isha pushed herself up to her knees just in time to see the Cardassian playing with his little blade and making more threats.
"I did nothing," Isha repeated pressing her palms against the cold tiled floor to prevent her hands from shaking.
Tharek walked forward to her, slowly. Maintaining the predatory look in his stance. "Is that what you tell yourself when you stare at yourself in the mirror? Is that what you say to block out the screams of those that have died because of you?"
"You're insane!" Isha words were accompanied by a laugh that rose in pitch as she glanced to her left, to the very corner of her eye, the place where Nniol lurked in her psyche. There was nothing there but the stars through the wide curve of the picture window.
Straightening her shoulders Isha drew her back straight though she remained on her knees, her skirts spread around her, as Isha drew her hands from the floor she twisted her fingers in the rich fabric of her gown. Her gaze caught the glint of his stubby blade as he turned it in his palm; every quickening pulse of blood in her throat reminded Isha of her physical disadvantage, of the damage he had already done, and what else he might do to her before he left.
"I have done nothing wrong," she said, the third arrangement of her statement. She would admit no wrong.
He ignored her statement, yet again. He knew he had done enough now. Tharek strutted over to her, kneeling down to her height. Grabbing her wrists, he held them up to her. "Let these marks serve as warning to stay out of my way."
Averting her gaze, down and to the right Isha spoke again; she could not fight directly, nor with his hands around her wrists could she run. "By your own admission we merely played a game, I am no obstruction," Isha told Getal addressing him as she had addressed Nniol in the long passed days when she had fallen under her husband's brother's control, as a supplicant. She could not fight then either, but ultimately she had won, and she would win again. "You know where the power lies," Isha added almost choking on the lie.
"Yes, and it doesn't lie with you. You're pathetic." He said, spitting on the ground near her. "I've made my point clear. Interfere, and I kill you."
The Romulan Ambassador swallowed, a thick slug of spit and bile, here on her knees, in the corner there could be few who would disagree with the Cardassian's assessment, "I have not and will not," she said apparently recoiling, but in reality her arms tensing as she tested his grip on her wrists.
He asserted more strength into her wrists, clenching harder and harder.
She shrieked then feeling her bones grind together and for a second she was blinded in a crippling flash of agony.
"Don't test me Romulan." He glared at her through eyes narrowed down to slits. Soon, the pressure he had exerted on her wrists should have been killing her, if he knew his anatomy right. He continued to press, harder and harder, aiming for pressure points on Isha's wrists. After he had inflicted enough pain, he rose. He placed the blade back into its holster.
Without another word being uttered, he left, the only sound a muffled sob escaping Isha's lips where she lay, her face buried deep in her own skirts.
OFF
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Cardassian Ambassador
by Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal & Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
| Title | Icon of Dominance | |
| Mission | Unity | |
| Author(s) | Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal & Commander Isha t'Vaurek | |
| Posted | Tue Apr 20, 2010 @ 6:30am | |
| Location | Romulan Consulate | |
| Timeline | SD17 13:00 |
"There!" Tharek shouted as two Cardassians dropped a couch. It was beautiful, by Cardassian standards. A beige coloured leather with brown threading. He stood for a minute and admired it. The other two men had left Tharek to his own business.
It looked expensive and probably was knowing Tharek. He thought that money made more power than being 'friendly' in modern times. But, sometimes fear was better for getting respect than money. He was reverting to this method for a moment as he thought of the Romulan Ambassador, Isha. She was treading on his plans with Rh'vaurek, and he didn't like it. Let's pay that piece of skrăgh a visit.
---
"Send him away!" Isha emphasised her point with a flick of her wrist as she rose. She did not have time for the Cardassian, not any more. As the functionary bowed and retreated Isha moved toward the vast window at the back of her office, goosebumps prickling on the exposed skin of her arms as she gazed out on the starscape beyond.
The aide withdrew and walked slowly down the corridor. She had been given this role by default after the ambassador had sacked without ceremony or explanation her predecessor and she was not yet used to the rigmarole of turning away those who thought they were important.
Before she turned the corner she breathed deeply then stepped on.
"The ambassador is engaged," she told the Cardassian.
"Vole shit." He said defiantly. "You have two choices here. The first is to be smart, and let me in. The second is that I throw you through the door of her office and come in anyway. Choose wisely." Tharek said with a cold and sadistic smile at the end of his sentance.
Her eyes flicked from side to side, security was conspicuous in its absence. Without their support, in the face of the Cardassian a head taller than her she was more conscious of her own wellbeing than the ambassador's; besides, she thought, the ambassador had people on call, she did not.
Without a word she took her place behind her desk and turned her attention to the screen as though she was alone.
"Smart." Tharek said with a flick at the corner of his mouth. He then continued on his path toward the ambassador, and something that could get him knee deep in Romulan trouble...
He barged through the door and immediately stared behind the desk at Isha. "Hello dear ambassador." Tharek said, wincing as if the words left a physically bad taste in his mouth.
Had she been at her desk Isha would have summoned security, but she was at the window when he arrived and by the time she had turned he was between her and her desk. She stopped half way, dissapointed that her ceremonial weapons were also at the far side of the room.
Isha folded her arms, "Another assistant I must dismiss," she remarked appraising the Cardassian through narrowed eyes. "What do you want, Getal?"
"I want you to keep your nose out of my business!" He exclaimed, pointing his finger at her with a sharp and heavy movement. He knew that at the first opportunity she got, she would call security or lunge for anything that she could plunge into his neck. He had his eye on her every movement.
"Your business is far beneath my interest, Getal," Isha replied following the line of the window at an easy pace. Having encountered them in their dozens, not least in her husband's House, Isha did not react to bullies. She also knew there was a door that would take her to her suite and from there she could have the Cardassian neutered.
"That might be so, but your incessant snooping is grabbing mine." He stepped a couple of feet closer to her. So far his 'attempts' at introducing fear were failing. He decided a new tactic was in order. He bent over, and removed a blade from his boot. It was elegant, and stained a dark red. Tharek plunged it a centimetre into the desk and glared at Isha with burning eyes.
"And did that display achieve your aim?" Isha stepped forward, grasping the knife. A pull and she threw it aside letting it clatter to the floor before she spoke again. "As a formerly powerful man, how does it feel to be reduced to impotent posturing," she enquired meeting his gaze without fear.
He was rusty, no doubt. It had been several years since he had last interrogated, or killed, a person. Isha was making a mockery of him, and he didn't like it. He stood erect and slicked back a few out of place hairs. Tharek then strode around the desk to her, the flame still burning in his eyes. He stood less then a foot away from her, and whispered down into her ear. "Formerly powerful?"
He lunged at her arms with both hands, pushing her against the nearest wall. The impact sounded painful, and probably was. He then exerted an extraordinary amount of strength, and held her in the air, so she met his eye sight. "How's this for impotent posturing?"
The attack was sudden and unexpected. Isha gasped as the breath was knocked out of her lungs and before she had time to recover his fingers were digging into her arms and her feet were off the floor.
"Let go of me," she demanded through gritted teeth. She kicked at him, but without any leverage her legs caught in her skirt and she succeeded only in loosing a shoe, it hit the tiled floor and rolled in the direction she had thrown the knife. Why had she let go of it? Isha asked herself in the same moment, a weapon would give her some comfort.
Short of options Isha did the one thing open to her, she sucked on her teeth and spat directly into Getal's face. There was a frustrated rage behind the glare she fired back at him; Isha was not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream.
"Your not very smart for someone in your position." He said, as he let the spit run down his face. It didn't phase him really, he was more focused on his new technique of fear. "I was nice at first, we played a nice little game." He said, smiling. "But then, you had to go and snoop. And that's something I can't allow."
He lent in closer to her. "You interfere with my plans again, and I will kill you. Do I make myself perfectly clear," He slammed her once more against the wall. He spoke through gritted teeth now, "or is more of this neccessary?"
This time Isha's skull followed her back into the wall jarring her neck and knocking askew one of the jewelled bodkins that held her hair up.
Was she not even safe in her own embassy? A redundant question given that she had been abducted from this very room not long before. Nausea burned in the pit of her stomach, the acidic soup threatening to boil its way into her throat prompted as much by the pain in her head as by her own paralysis.
Why could she not fight back?
Isha e-Khellian i-Ramnau t'Illialhlae, head of one Great House and heir to another, descended in a line unbroken from the original settlers, who had the blood of Praetors, Senators and warriors pulsing through her veins was not a victim, yet as Getal held her there, his fetid breath warm against her skin, it was all she could do to prevent herself from crying.
The words she forced through her dry lips were inaudible.
"I can't hear you, Romulan!" He spat at her. Tharek increased the grip on her arms, digging his fingernails into her skin. By the look on her face, Tharek had done what he had come to do. "Speak, Romulan!"
All Rh'vaurek's warnings about this man were with her now as the Cardassian's cruel fingers pressed into her flesh, and his dark eyes held hers. Respect for the social niceties that usually protected her seemed not to matter to him, she was not anything in his eyes. He was, Isha understood, what Rh'vaurek referred to as 'a professional' - someone just as ruthless as Rh'vaurek himself.
"I haven't done anything," she managed to say feeling the prick of moisture in the corners of her eyes.
"Wrong!" He shouted as he finally let her down, throwing her across the room. Intentionally into a corner, away from any sort of weapon. "Now, I'm not all bad. If you never interfere in my business again, I leave you alone." Tharek strode across the room and picked his knife back up. "But, if you ever cross me again. I will skin you and use your hide as a rug."
Isha skidded, crumpled landing heavily on her leg. She paused for a moment where she had fallen at the point at which the wall met the window. Her hair had fallen loose but she made no effort to correct it as she drew several deep, scouring breaths hearing his feet as he moved though she had not yet raised either her gaze or her head. Despite the ache in her upper arms Isha pushed herself up to her knees just in time to see the Cardassian playing with his little blade and making more threats.
"I did nothing," Isha repeated pressing her palms against the cold tiled floor to prevent her hands from shaking.
Tharek walked forward to her, slowly. Maintaining the predatory look in his stance. "Is that what you tell yourself when you stare at yourself in the mirror? Is that what you say to block out the screams of those that have died because of you?"
"You're insane!" Isha words were accompanied by a laugh that rose in pitch as she glanced to her left, to the very corner of her eye, the place where Nniol lurked in her psyche. There was nothing there but the stars through the wide curve of the picture window.
Straightening her shoulders Isha drew her back straight though she remained on her knees, her skirts spread around her, as Isha drew her hands from the floor she twisted her fingers in the rich fabric of her gown. Her gaze caught the glint of his stubby blade as he turned it in his palm; every quickening pulse of blood in her throat reminded Isha of her physical disadvantage, of the damage he had already done, and what else he might do to her before he left.
"I have done nothing wrong," she said, the third arrangement of her statement. She would admit no wrong.
He ignored her statement, yet again. He knew he had done enough now. Tharek strutted over to her, kneeling down to her height. Grabbing her wrists, he held them up to her. "Let these marks serve as warning to stay out of my way."
Averting her gaze, down and to the right Isha spoke again; she could not fight directly, nor with his hands around her wrists could she run. "By your own admission we merely played a game, I am no obstruction," Isha told Getal addressing him as she had addressed Nniol in the long passed days when she had fallen under her husband's brother's control, as a supplicant. She could not fight then either, but ultimately she had won, and she would win again. "You know where the power lies," Isha added almost choking on the lie.
"Yes, and it doesn't lie with you. You're pathetic." He said, spitting on the ground near her. "I've made my point clear. Interfere, and I kill you."
The Romulan Ambassador swallowed, a thick slug of spit and bile, here on her knees, in the corner there could be few who would disagree with the Cardassian's assessment, "I have not and will not," she said apparently recoiling, but in reality her arms tensing as she tested his grip on her wrists.
He asserted more strength into her wrists, clenching harder and harder.
She shrieked then feeling her bones grind together and for a second she was blinded in a crippling flash of agony.
"Don't test me Romulan." He glared at her through eyes narrowed down to slits. Soon, the pressure he had exerted on her wrists should have been killing her, if he knew his anatomy right. He continued to press, harder and harder, aiming for pressure points on Isha's wrists. After he had inflicted enough pain, he rose. He placed the blade back into its holster.
Without another word being uttered, he left, the only sound a muffled sob escaping Isha's lips where she lay, her face buried deep in her own skirts.
OFF
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Cardassian Ambassador