Judgement – Best Served Cold - Entrement
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek
Post Details
::ON::
Yolanthe was finding adjusting to life in the Federation not as hard as she feared. Hauling cargo was not exactly what she was used to, but it paid the bills and kept her active. She was working now, dressed in only a vest and light trousers to move the smaller containers onto a trolley to move into the small freighter vessel. Each of the two hundred crates was marked "Fragile! Do Not Transport!" She wondered what would be in them that would make it so. She hefted another crate, arms and back rippling as the muscles moved. Her species were no more stronger than humans or trill, but she had trained hard every day since she was six years old, and physical labour was no hardship.
The last crate was loaded, and Yolanthe went over to sit with the others on the crew as the ship’s cargo doors were closed and sealed. Jerix, her supervisor, passed her a water canister in a shaggy hand. "Water," said the Lurian. "No falling dead on the shift."
Yolanthe laughed. "Says the shaggy carpet who got put in sick bay last week for over doing it."
Jerix shrugged companionably. "Drink as I say, not as I do."
She wiped the sweat from her face with a blueberry arm, and took the canister, gulping down the cold liquid. "I never realised there was so much stuff that didn't get transported."
Jerix snorted. "Believe me, there's not much that can't. But nine tenths of what we shift, no one wants it looked at as closely or as formally as a transporter. So we get to break our backs"
They drank in companionable silence for a few minutes more. "Right, back to work." Jerrix stood and began shouting orders to the loading crew. Yolanthe wiped her mouth with her palm and headed for the next transport that had arrived on the ring. Heaving up a cargo box, she headed out to the quiet loading bay.
"Ibalin." A woman's voice stated, rather than asked.
She turned. A risian woman, blonde hair in a neat chignon, dressed in formal suit, stood behind her. And behind the Risian were half a dozen scruffy men of assorted species, arrayed in a semicircle around her. All pointing energy weapons at her. "We want a word with you."
"Sure. What about?" She knew there was trouble in the air. Their position, their stance, their tenseness.
"Let's go somewhere quiet." The Risian gestured towards a corner of the loading bay, obscured from prying eyes, and helping hands, by a wall of crates.
The phasers and disruptors made a convincing case for co-operation over confrontation; Yolanthe moved in the direction indicated. "What is this about?"
"About that fight last night."
Oh, so that was what it was about. "Hey I got the bet in before the bell. It’s not my fault your guy lost."
"Our guy didn't lose." Said the man to Risian woman's left, a muscular Orion with a completely smooth scalp, scars criss-crossing his naked torso.
"But no-one was supposed to know he was going to win," the woman said, shooting the Orion a dirty look.
Yolanthe shrugged. "So I got lucky. Get over it." She started to move away, pushing her luck.
"Not so fast, darling." The Risian said "We've been watching you. You've got a terribly good sense for a winner."
"Its a talent."
"Maybe it is, you're a special girl. No-one quite like you round here." The Risian allowed herself a small smile, a counterpoint to the hint of threat in her voice. "Or maybe you've got knowledge you ain't supposed to have." She checked over her companions, a signal, get ready. "Either way, we've come for the money back. And to show you the error of your ways."
"I won that money fair and square." If this went to violence, Yolanthe knew she was dead. But neither did she want to be a victim. The impossibility of her situation was frustrating, and she faded to a dark gold.
"We don't care," said the woman. "Either way, you're up to something, so we want our money back. At 200% interest."
That was ludicrous, sheer extortion. "Or what?" Even so, Yolanthe wasn't ready to be intimidated by this woman hiding behind her gun.
The risian gave her a victorious smile. "We tell Shrell Erain where he can find you."
Yolanthe's angry yellow turned a sharp acid green. "I don't have that sort of money."
The risian woman smiled. "That's not my problem. You have 24 hours, or I make that call."
"Twenty four hours?!" Back to yellow. It was an impossible task. Doomed to failure. "Be reasonable."
The risian woman's smile became predatory. "I'm sure we can come to some arrangement." She put a finger on Yolanthe's shoulder and stroked it down her arm. "You're exotic, attractive. Those are marketable features." The finger moved from wrist to waist, and began to travel up again, "You're one of a kind. Shrell knows that, I know that. And that my dear, could be very profitable for you."
The yellow brightened. "I don't think so."
The risian woman shrugged and took her hand away. Yolanthe was to tall for her to casually reach her face anyway. "Then get the money. Twenty Four hours, Ibalin." She turned away and the thugs fell in behind her. "We'll find you."
Yolanthe watched them leave, oscillating between green and grey. Shrell Erain or something just as bad. she leaned up against the wall of the loading bay. What was she going to do?
The Risian woman, Lareena, found herself sitting in the cramped, grubby rented quarters on the lower levels of the base late that night. She leaned against the door of the main room, watching a couple of her hired mercenaries as they cleaned their weapons in preparation for tomorrow morning's visit to the Bokkai woman. Lareena wasn't a fool and knew that, since she hadn't left, that didn't mean Yolanthe wouldn't put up a fight.
Pushing herself off the wall, she went into the tiny bedroom and looked through her bag when a crack sounded from the main room and a beep announced the door opening suddenly. There was a commotion, and Lareena instinctively pulled out her disruptor and hid behind the wall next to the door.
She heard the door swish closed as a sickening, wet sound filled the air and something dropped heavily onto the ground, followed by a crack that sounded too horrid to actually be anything other than something blunt hitting bony and flesh. Breathing heavily, Lareena felt the intruders approach and, gathering up her strength, the Risian slid into the doorway, holding disruptor forward. As her eyes met the intruders, the woman paled considerably and the man used her temporary shock to grab the disruptor from her hand and threw it aside. He marched forward without hesitation, ultimately slamming the tall woman against the wall beside the doorway.
Draylin felt her tremble under his icy glare, his gloved hand gripping the fabric that covered her chest.
Pressed against the wall, she smelt the metallic taste of blood as it filled the air. He said nothing and the last thing she saw was a flash of bright light as a blade slid through the air before her eyes before it was buried in her chest. She coughed, feeling a warm liquid filling her lungs and mouth. She didn't notice when the metal left her body, but she felt herself sliding down the wall.
Draylin watched the life in her eyes disappear before she hit the floor.
He turned to inspect the small massacre he'd left in the apartment. Three bodies laid dead at his feet as the El Aurian walked calmly over to a shabby cupboard that was against the west wall, stepping over the blade he'd left. Reaching into his jacket, he took out a small envelope, its contents and header handwritten, along with a digital frame. The two items looks as if they belonged to two different eras held right next to one another like this. He set the frame down, pressing the button on the side. The screen lit up to revealed a woman's smiling, violet colored face. He set the envelope to lean against the picture. He watched the small set for a few seconds before turning and going over to the Risian. Checking her pockets, he found the Syndicate distress beacon and pressed the button, watching the item flash red. His work done, the El Aurian walked out, locking the door behind him and went on his way through the corridors and back into the dark.
All through the next day, Yolanthe was on edge. Not jumping at shadows, she was too disciplined for that, but expecting trouble at any moment. She had no idea what she was going to do, but going down fighting was getting more and more attractive. And yet no trouble came. No sign of the Risian or her cronies. not so much as catching sight of them across a crowded room.
None the next day, or the day after. In fact it was five days later when she even had a hint of her troubles. Transig, a bolian she had frequently placed bets with cane to sit next to her at the counter of the noodle bar on her break.
"Ibalin," he began, nodding to her in greeting. "I was looking for you." His voice was civil, much more so than she'd ever heard.
"Hey." She swallowed a mouthful of her lunch. "Look, I'm having to give the bets a rest for a while. Personal issues."
"I've come to tell you that we've heard about your troubles with Lareena," the Bolian explained. "And, you will be happy to know she's....well, she's been dealt with."
She went a shade of aquamarine. "Huh?"
"Yes," the Bolian nodded. "The...um, higher ups, have decided you're not really much trouble. At all."
"Alright," She swivelled on her stool to face him. "Now I'm officially and completely confused."
"Yes...well. Just thought you should know the Syndicate won't be giving you any more trouble," the Bolian said hurriedly. "I have to go now. Official business," he told her quickly before hopping off the stool and heading out. Yolanthe looked after him and saw him let out a slightly frightened yelp as he looked up at a tall, familiar man after bumping into him.
Draylin looked less than pleased at the sudden physical contact and glared down at him with his icy pale eyes. The Bolian cowered and scurried off and out of the bar. Draylin cracked his neck and walked inside, towards the Bokkai.
She saw him and her violet body became diffused with a gentle blue, and she gave him a warm smile. "Dray! I didn't know you were on station?"
"Hi, pretty," he greeted her, an easy smile on his face. He walked over and took the seat next to his friend, feeling it still warm from the Bolian. "Yeah, I arrived a couple of days ago. Heard there was a Bokkai raising hell so, naturally, I wanted to see you."
"I never raise hell. Keep my head down, work hard." She looked at his spare frame. "you need feeding."
The words made Draylin chuckle, as did every one of Yolanthe's random outbursts. "I'm fine," he assured her calmly. In reality, he was a little hungry, having not eaten yet that morning, but he wasn't about to order anything in this run down place.
She gave him a very sceptical look. "Okay, if you're sure." She put a few slips of latinum down on the bar. "Its good to see you Dray," she smiled, "but you shouldn’t leave it so long." She got down from her stool. "You should stick around this time. Let me look after you properly."
"Look after me, huh?" he asked rhetorically, giving the tall woman a knowing smile he knew she wouldn't notice.
She snorted, "Dray, you're skin and bones. You'd blow over in a stiff wind. Come on, let’s find you somewhere we can have a drink in peace."
::OFF::
A JP Between
Yolanthe Ibalin
Barely off the boat and already in trouble
&
Draylin Tal (NPC by Maja)
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek
Post Details
| Title | Best Served Cold - Entrement | |
| Mission | Judgement | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek | |
| Posted | Fri Jul 08, 2011 @ 3:24pm | |
| Location | Starbase 249 | |
| Timeline | Two years ago |
Yolanthe was finding adjusting to life in the Federation not as hard as she feared. Hauling cargo was not exactly what she was used to, but it paid the bills and kept her active. She was working now, dressed in only a vest and light trousers to move the smaller containers onto a trolley to move into the small freighter vessel. Each of the two hundred crates was marked "Fragile! Do Not Transport!" She wondered what would be in them that would make it so. She hefted another crate, arms and back rippling as the muscles moved. Her species were no more stronger than humans or trill, but she had trained hard every day since she was six years old, and physical labour was no hardship.
The last crate was loaded, and Yolanthe went over to sit with the others on the crew as the ship’s cargo doors were closed and sealed. Jerix, her supervisor, passed her a water canister in a shaggy hand. "Water," said the Lurian. "No falling dead on the shift."
Yolanthe laughed. "Says the shaggy carpet who got put in sick bay last week for over doing it."
Jerix shrugged companionably. "Drink as I say, not as I do."
She wiped the sweat from her face with a blueberry arm, and took the canister, gulping down the cold liquid. "I never realised there was so much stuff that didn't get transported."
Jerix snorted. "Believe me, there's not much that can't. But nine tenths of what we shift, no one wants it looked at as closely or as formally as a transporter. So we get to break our backs"
They drank in companionable silence for a few minutes more. "Right, back to work." Jerrix stood and began shouting orders to the loading crew. Yolanthe wiped her mouth with her palm and headed for the next transport that had arrived on the ring. Heaving up a cargo box, she headed out to the quiet loading bay.
"Ibalin." A woman's voice stated, rather than asked.
She turned. A risian woman, blonde hair in a neat chignon, dressed in formal suit, stood behind her. And behind the Risian were half a dozen scruffy men of assorted species, arrayed in a semicircle around her. All pointing energy weapons at her. "We want a word with you."
"Sure. What about?" She knew there was trouble in the air. Their position, their stance, their tenseness.
"Let's go somewhere quiet." The Risian gestured towards a corner of the loading bay, obscured from prying eyes, and helping hands, by a wall of crates.
The phasers and disruptors made a convincing case for co-operation over confrontation; Yolanthe moved in the direction indicated. "What is this about?"
"About that fight last night."
Oh, so that was what it was about. "Hey I got the bet in before the bell. It’s not my fault your guy lost."
"Our guy didn't lose." Said the man to Risian woman's left, a muscular Orion with a completely smooth scalp, scars criss-crossing his naked torso.
"But no-one was supposed to know he was going to win," the woman said, shooting the Orion a dirty look.
Yolanthe shrugged. "So I got lucky. Get over it." She started to move away, pushing her luck.
"Not so fast, darling." The Risian said "We've been watching you. You've got a terribly good sense for a winner."
"Its a talent."
"Maybe it is, you're a special girl. No-one quite like you round here." The Risian allowed herself a small smile, a counterpoint to the hint of threat in her voice. "Or maybe you've got knowledge you ain't supposed to have." She checked over her companions, a signal, get ready. "Either way, we've come for the money back. And to show you the error of your ways."
"I won that money fair and square." If this went to violence, Yolanthe knew she was dead. But neither did she want to be a victim. The impossibility of her situation was frustrating, and she faded to a dark gold.
"We don't care," said the woman. "Either way, you're up to something, so we want our money back. At 200% interest."
That was ludicrous, sheer extortion. "Or what?" Even so, Yolanthe wasn't ready to be intimidated by this woman hiding behind her gun.
The risian gave her a victorious smile. "We tell Shrell Erain where he can find you."
Yolanthe's angry yellow turned a sharp acid green. "I don't have that sort of money."
The risian woman smiled. "That's not my problem. You have 24 hours, or I make that call."
"Twenty four hours?!" Back to yellow. It was an impossible task. Doomed to failure. "Be reasonable."
The risian woman's smile became predatory. "I'm sure we can come to some arrangement." She put a finger on Yolanthe's shoulder and stroked it down her arm. "You're exotic, attractive. Those are marketable features." The finger moved from wrist to waist, and began to travel up again, "You're one of a kind. Shrell knows that, I know that. And that my dear, could be very profitable for you."
The yellow brightened. "I don't think so."
The risian woman shrugged and took her hand away. Yolanthe was to tall for her to casually reach her face anyway. "Then get the money. Twenty Four hours, Ibalin." She turned away and the thugs fell in behind her. "We'll find you."
Yolanthe watched them leave, oscillating between green and grey. Shrell Erain or something just as bad. she leaned up against the wall of the loading bay. What was she going to do?
The Risian woman, Lareena, found herself sitting in the cramped, grubby rented quarters on the lower levels of the base late that night. She leaned against the door of the main room, watching a couple of her hired mercenaries as they cleaned their weapons in preparation for tomorrow morning's visit to the Bokkai woman. Lareena wasn't a fool and knew that, since she hadn't left, that didn't mean Yolanthe wouldn't put up a fight.
Pushing herself off the wall, she went into the tiny bedroom and looked through her bag when a crack sounded from the main room and a beep announced the door opening suddenly. There was a commotion, and Lareena instinctively pulled out her disruptor and hid behind the wall next to the door.
She heard the door swish closed as a sickening, wet sound filled the air and something dropped heavily onto the ground, followed by a crack that sounded too horrid to actually be anything other than something blunt hitting bony and flesh. Breathing heavily, Lareena felt the intruders approach and, gathering up her strength, the Risian slid into the doorway, holding disruptor forward. As her eyes met the intruders, the woman paled considerably and the man used her temporary shock to grab the disruptor from her hand and threw it aside. He marched forward without hesitation, ultimately slamming the tall woman against the wall beside the doorway.
Draylin felt her tremble under his icy glare, his gloved hand gripping the fabric that covered her chest.
Pressed against the wall, she smelt the metallic taste of blood as it filled the air. He said nothing and the last thing she saw was a flash of bright light as a blade slid through the air before her eyes before it was buried in her chest. She coughed, feeling a warm liquid filling her lungs and mouth. She didn't notice when the metal left her body, but she felt herself sliding down the wall.
Draylin watched the life in her eyes disappear before she hit the floor.
He turned to inspect the small massacre he'd left in the apartment. Three bodies laid dead at his feet as the El Aurian walked calmly over to a shabby cupboard that was against the west wall, stepping over the blade he'd left. Reaching into his jacket, he took out a small envelope, its contents and header handwritten, along with a digital frame. The two items looks as if they belonged to two different eras held right next to one another like this. He set the frame down, pressing the button on the side. The screen lit up to revealed a woman's smiling, violet colored face. He set the envelope to lean against the picture. He watched the small set for a few seconds before turning and going over to the Risian. Checking her pockets, he found the Syndicate distress beacon and pressed the button, watching the item flash red. His work done, the El Aurian walked out, locking the door behind him and went on his way through the corridors and back into the dark.
All through the next day, Yolanthe was on edge. Not jumping at shadows, she was too disciplined for that, but expecting trouble at any moment. She had no idea what she was going to do, but going down fighting was getting more and more attractive. And yet no trouble came. No sign of the Risian or her cronies. not so much as catching sight of them across a crowded room.
None the next day, or the day after. In fact it was five days later when she even had a hint of her troubles. Transig, a bolian she had frequently placed bets with cane to sit next to her at the counter of the noodle bar on her break.
"Ibalin," he began, nodding to her in greeting. "I was looking for you." His voice was civil, much more so than she'd ever heard.
"Hey." She swallowed a mouthful of her lunch. "Look, I'm having to give the bets a rest for a while. Personal issues."
"I've come to tell you that we've heard about your troubles with Lareena," the Bolian explained. "And, you will be happy to know she's....well, she's been dealt with."
She went a shade of aquamarine. "Huh?"
"Yes," the Bolian nodded. "The...um, higher ups, have decided you're not really much trouble. At all."
"Alright," She swivelled on her stool to face him. "Now I'm officially and completely confused."
"Yes...well. Just thought you should know the Syndicate won't be giving you any more trouble," the Bolian said hurriedly. "I have to go now. Official business," he told her quickly before hopping off the stool and heading out. Yolanthe looked after him and saw him let out a slightly frightened yelp as he looked up at a tall, familiar man after bumping into him.
Draylin looked less than pleased at the sudden physical contact and glared down at him with his icy pale eyes. The Bolian cowered and scurried off and out of the bar. Draylin cracked his neck and walked inside, towards the Bokkai.
She saw him and her violet body became diffused with a gentle blue, and she gave him a warm smile. "Dray! I didn't know you were on station?"
"Hi, pretty," he greeted her, an easy smile on his face. He walked over and took the seat next to his friend, feeling it still warm from the Bolian. "Yeah, I arrived a couple of days ago. Heard there was a Bokkai raising hell so, naturally, I wanted to see you."
"I never raise hell. Keep my head down, work hard." She looked at his spare frame. "you need feeding."
The words made Draylin chuckle, as did every one of Yolanthe's random outbursts. "I'm fine," he assured her calmly. In reality, he was a little hungry, having not eaten yet that morning, but he wasn't about to order anything in this run down place.
She gave him a very sceptical look. "Okay, if you're sure." She put a few slips of latinum down on the bar. "Its good to see you Dray," she smiled, "but you shouldn’t leave it so long." She got down from her stool. "You should stick around this time. Let me look after you properly."
"Look after me, huh?" he asked rhetorically, giving the tall woman a knowing smile he knew she wouldn't notice.
She snorted, "Dray, you're skin and bones. You'd blow over in a stiff wind. Come on, let’s find you somewhere we can have a drink in peace."
::OFF::
A JP Between
Yolanthe Ibalin
Barely off the boat and already in trouble
&
Draylin Tal (NPC by Maja)