Beg, Steal or Borrow – In Memorium: Part 1
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Colonel James Darson
Post Details
As Isha had tried and failed to teach the J’naii, it was the clothes that make the woman; dress as you wish to be treated, she might have said, wear grey when you wish to be in the background, but when you wish people to know who you are and treat you accordingly, make a statement.
A pair of decorative bodkins held her hair in a coil at the base of her neck, the lacquered handles encrusted with gems that glittered crimson, matching the trim that edged the black high collared gown; Isha remained still as the turbo lift doors opened, impassive, the rage that burned like ice in her heart suppressed behind a mask of aloof dignity. She said nothing; she did not need to as the beings in the already crowded turbo lift, the inevitable drift from shift to shift inched back to allow her room she stepped forward, the trailing hem of the gown sweeping the floor.
That was how a ‘statement’ worked.
She focused her gaze on the three fresh cut lilies wrapped in clear crinkling plastic that lay in the crook of her arm, they were just beginning to open, the first traces of their heady scent mingling with the nauseating odor of bodies in the lift.
I should have stayed longer in the arboretum, she thought, almost allowing herself to smile with relief as the doors opened admitted a welcome waft of fresher air as three passengers got out.
Isha’s relief was short lived however; she recognized the one passenger who entered the lift at that floor; the Bajoran that had followed her and Doctor Adams, the one she had been warned about. Pellan Joran.
Face to face and inches apart there was no room for words, but Isha did not take her eyes off him; dressed as an engineer or technician, his muddy brown hair grown too long to be tidy he had a tell-tale cut half healed beneath the ridges of his nose and his skin was dull and mottled around one of his pale blue eyes.
There was triumph in his glimmering eyes and in the twist of his lips, calculating the likelihood of her being able to reach somewhere he could not follow, starting with this proximity Isha saw why.
Deck 512, 409, 370 … they retreated to different corners of the lift as soon as space allowed. He leaning against the wall with his arms folded watching her as behind the flowers she eased the phaser out of the soft black bag that hung from her wrist.
Deck 290, 256, 137 … fewer and fewer people were entering the lift, more and more leaving; there must be somewhere she could reach before he did, and before they were left alone.
Deck 123, 117, 84 … and only three people remaining.
Deck … Isha followed the other man from the lift not pausing to mutter apologies as she pushed past him in the corridor, It was too much to ask that Pellan be stuck in the lift, but he had not expected her to get out here, Isha thought for a moment that she might actually have gone mad to be contemplating this.
He’s been watching my movements, she thought, how many times had she wandered down to buy fresh flowers before ambling back to the embassy? She hadn’t noticed a thing. But she noticed now. Isha picked up her pace, running the deck listing through her head, as the other man peeled off down a side corridor.
What a place to seek sanctuary, she thought as she stopped outside the innocuous appearing door.
Isha waited until Pellan turned the corner, she wanted him to know that he had lost, and then with a smirk that belied her racing heart she slammed her open hand into the door control.
“Not this time,” she said with a shake of her head, as it opened and she stepped through.
Isha had barely a moment to catch her breath before she addressed the startled looking duty officer.
“I wish to speak with Darson,” she said, “Hnafiv'au-d? ? (Can you hear?) Fetch him now!”
The startled duty officer, Sergeant Strickland, was indeed quite startled in a startling manner by this loud and demanding Romulan woman, who appeared dressed in such a way as to rival an empress…or perhaps the Major.
However, the Sergeant was not somebody to be talked to like that. He squared off with her and said, “I’m sorry Ma’am. This area is off limits to civilians, unless you have a prior appointment. If you do not have one, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
Isha smiled thinly at the man; she ruled a Rihannsu Hfihar (Great House) and was heir to another, she had spoken before the Senate, and swayed the stern indifference of the Continuing Committee to her side. She was not about to be put off by one Marine.
“Darson will see me,” Isha said, her gaze unwavering. “He’s been expecting me to call sooner or later. Fetch him, please, or I may have to mention that you have been less than accommodating to an invited guest.”
Strickland huffed, that sure was believable. The Major, inviting her to come down whenever she pleased? Although, he thought, was it really that farfetched? Especially considering some of the things that he’d done, this wasn’t exactly three standard deviations from the mean…maybe only one or two.
He sighed as he faced her, and frowned slightly once he paid attention to her face. A light sheen of sweat, and what was unmistakably fear in her eyes, “If you’ll give me your name,” He said as he glanced over her shoulder through the still open door to the corridor beyond, “I’ll call down to the Command Center and see what's going on…” he trailed off as he caught sight of the Bajoran man loitering suspiciously halfway down the corridor.
Before Isha could respond, a cool voice rang out from behind Sergeant Strickland, “Romulan Diplomat, Isha t’Khellian…isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” The Marine turned around to catch sight of the ILO, Lieutenant Chau’saura, standing tall and regal.
The Marines hurriedly stood at attention, and Sergeant Strickland said, “Ma’am, she is requesting an audience with Major Darson.”
The Vulcan nodded sharply, “Thank you Sergeant. You may return to your patrol,” Strickland gave one last glance down the corridor, saluted, and headed down the corridor.”
Chau’saura turned smoothly to Isha and said in a level voice, “Ms. t’Khellian. Major Darson has informed me that you do indeed have a standing invitation. He is currently in the MTAC, but would be more than happy to see you.”
She looked up through the open door and frowned, “Is that a friend of yours?” She said, as she nodded her head slightly towards the Man lurking down the hall.
“Not at all,” Isha said, still weighing the relative evils of taking her chances with Pellan or allowing herself to be taken further into Darson’s side of the station; neither option filled her with confidence.
As Isha regarded the Vulcan she saw a way of answering the question of Pellan, it was in her own vulnerability. “He’s been following me,” she admitted, casting a glance at the lilies in her arms, “a friend warned him off, but it seems he is not to be deterred … somebody is paying the man, I think. I don’t know who he is precisely, but I can tell you that he’s no more Bajoran than I am, Lieutenant.”
Before his impromptu departure, Rh’vaurek had told her a little more about his own investigations into Pellan and his female associate, but Isha would share that information that only if necessary.
Chau'saura's eyes narrowed a strong indicator of emotion for a Vulcan, "Is that so? Such a thing could be considered a crime," She said calmly, as she stood facing the door. She reached down smoothly to her side and unsnapped her duty sidearm, with deliberate motions, so Pellan could see.
Without breaking eye contact, she slowly brought her other hand up, and waggled her index finger from side to side slightly, her intent clear. Then she reached out and hit the access panel, shutting the hatch.
She turned to Isha, and after locking her sidearm back in place and clasping her hands behind her back, said, "Now then, please come with me." She nodded to Sergeant Strickland who had resumed his position at the checkpoint, and began to move down the hall.
OFF:
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
Major James Darson
MCO
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Colonel James Darson
Post Details
| Title | In Memorium: Part 1 | |
| Mission | Beg, Steal or Borrow | |
| Author(s) | Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Colonel James Darson | |
| Posted | Wed Feb 04, 2009 @ 2:49pm | |
| Location | Deck 72 - Marine Complex | |
| Timeline | SD8 - 00:00 |
A pair of decorative bodkins held her hair in a coil at the base of her neck, the lacquered handles encrusted with gems that glittered crimson, matching the trim that edged the black high collared gown; Isha remained still as the turbo lift doors opened, impassive, the rage that burned like ice in her heart suppressed behind a mask of aloof dignity. She said nothing; she did not need to as the beings in the already crowded turbo lift, the inevitable drift from shift to shift inched back to allow her room she stepped forward, the trailing hem of the gown sweeping the floor.
That was how a ‘statement’ worked.
She focused her gaze on the three fresh cut lilies wrapped in clear crinkling plastic that lay in the crook of her arm, they were just beginning to open, the first traces of their heady scent mingling with the nauseating odor of bodies in the lift.
I should have stayed longer in the arboretum, she thought, almost allowing herself to smile with relief as the doors opened admitted a welcome waft of fresher air as three passengers got out.
Isha’s relief was short lived however; she recognized the one passenger who entered the lift at that floor; the Bajoran that had followed her and Doctor Adams, the one she had been warned about. Pellan Joran.
Face to face and inches apart there was no room for words, but Isha did not take her eyes off him; dressed as an engineer or technician, his muddy brown hair grown too long to be tidy he had a tell-tale cut half healed beneath the ridges of his nose and his skin was dull and mottled around one of his pale blue eyes.
There was triumph in his glimmering eyes and in the twist of his lips, calculating the likelihood of her being able to reach somewhere he could not follow, starting with this proximity Isha saw why.
Deck 512, 409, 370 … they retreated to different corners of the lift as soon as space allowed. He leaning against the wall with his arms folded watching her as behind the flowers she eased the phaser out of the soft black bag that hung from her wrist.
Deck 290, 256, 137 … fewer and fewer people were entering the lift, more and more leaving; there must be somewhere she could reach before he did, and before they were left alone.
Deck 123, 117, 84 … and only three people remaining.
Deck … Isha followed the other man from the lift not pausing to mutter apologies as she pushed past him in the corridor, It was too much to ask that Pellan be stuck in the lift, but he had not expected her to get out here, Isha thought for a moment that she might actually have gone mad to be contemplating this.
He’s been watching my movements, she thought, how many times had she wandered down to buy fresh flowers before ambling back to the embassy? She hadn’t noticed a thing. But she noticed now. Isha picked up her pace, running the deck listing through her head, as the other man peeled off down a side corridor.
What a place to seek sanctuary, she thought as she stopped outside the innocuous appearing door.
Isha waited until Pellan turned the corner, she wanted him to know that he had lost, and then with a smirk that belied her racing heart she slammed her open hand into the door control.
“Not this time,” she said with a shake of her head, as it opened and she stepped through.
Isha had barely a moment to catch her breath before she addressed the startled looking duty officer.
“I wish to speak with Darson,” she said, “Hnafiv'au-d? ? (Can you hear?) Fetch him now!”
The startled duty officer, Sergeant Strickland, was indeed quite startled in a startling manner by this loud and demanding Romulan woman, who appeared dressed in such a way as to rival an empress…or perhaps the Major.
However, the Sergeant was not somebody to be talked to like that. He squared off with her and said, “I’m sorry Ma’am. This area is off limits to civilians, unless you have a prior appointment. If you do not have one, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
Isha smiled thinly at the man; she ruled a Rihannsu Hfihar (Great House) and was heir to another, she had spoken before the Senate, and swayed the stern indifference of the Continuing Committee to her side. She was not about to be put off by one Marine.
“Darson will see me,” Isha said, her gaze unwavering. “He’s been expecting me to call sooner or later. Fetch him, please, or I may have to mention that you have been less than accommodating to an invited guest.”
Strickland huffed, that sure was believable. The Major, inviting her to come down whenever she pleased? Although, he thought, was it really that farfetched? Especially considering some of the things that he’d done, this wasn’t exactly three standard deviations from the mean…maybe only one or two.
He sighed as he faced her, and frowned slightly once he paid attention to her face. A light sheen of sweat, and what was unmistakably fear in her eyes, “If you’ll give me your name,” He said as he glanced over her shoulder through the still open door to the corridor beyond, “I’ll call down to the Command Center and see what's going on…” he trailed off as he caught sight of the Bajoran man loitering suspiciously halfway down the corridor.
Before Isha could respond, a cool voice rang out from behind Sergeant Strickland, “Romulan Diplomat, Isha t’Khellian…isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” The Marine turned around to catch sight of the ILO, Lieutenant Chau’saura, standing tall and regal.
The Marines hurriedly stood at attention, and Sergeant Strickland said, “Ma’am, she is requesting an audience with Major Darson.”
The Vulcan nodded sharply, “Thank you Sergeant. You may return to your patrol,” Strickland gave one last glance down the corridor, saluted, and headed down the corridor.”
Chau’saura turned smoothly to Isha and said in a level voice, “Ms. t’Khellian. Major Darson has informed me that you do indeed have a standing invitation. He is currently in the MTAC, but would be more than happy to see you.”
She looked up through the open door and frowned, “Is that a friend of yours?” She said, as she nodded her head slightly towards the Man lurking down the hall.
“Not at all,” Isha said, still weighing the relative evils of taking her chances with Pellan or allowing herself to be taken further into Darson’s side of the station; neither option filled her with confidence.
As Isha regarded the Vulcan she saw a way of answering the question of Pellan, it was in her own vulnerability. “He’s been following me,” she admitted, casting a glance at the lilies in her arms, “a friend warned him off, but it seems he is not to be deterred … somebody is paying the man, I think. I don’t know who he is precisely, but I can tell you that he’s no more Bajoran than I am, Lieutenant.”
Before his impromptu departure, Rh’vaurek had told her a little more about his own investigations into Pellan and his female associate, but Isha would share that information that only if necessary.
Chau'saura's eyes narrowed a strong indicator of emotion for a Vulcan, "Is that so? Such a thing could be considered a crime," She said calmly, as she stood facing the door. She reached down smoothly to her side and unsnapped her duty sidearm, with deliberate motions, so Pellan could see.
Without breaking eye contact, she slowly brought her other hand up, and waggled her index finger from side to side slightly, her intent clear. Then she reached out and hit the access panel, shutting the hatch.
She turned to Isha, and after locking her sidearm back in place and clasping her hands behind her back, said, "Now then, please come with me." She nodded to Sergeant Strickland who had resumed his position at the checkpoint, and began to move down the hall.
OFF:
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
Major James Darson
MCO