Things Past – Confrontation
by Arrival Sarish Anjar & Arrival Atlana Durak
Post Details
Anjar had finished with his noon meal, rice with a little bit of chicken and almonds, and he decided to take a walk.
He left his quarters and made his way to the Promenade. He had only been on board less than 24 hours, so everything was brand new to him, but as he walked, something he couldn't quite place felt wrong. As he passed an antique shop, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He looked through the glass, then turned and stated walking away.
Atlana had an arm full of scrolls, Vulcan replicas mostly, but still interesting enough that she had bought them. They were double and triple stacked in her arms and she could barely see of over them. Fortunately she'd managed to memorize the lay out of the shop... and she was able to navigate the shelves easily. Setting them down the counter she noticed a man moving past just outside the shop.
Atlana could tell he was Bajorian from the clothes he wore and his silhouette. As he walked she was oddly aware that his gate was off slightly. A lip or a sore... aged maybe or marred somehow. She watched him for a moment or two, not able to see his face she thought little of it. She'd made some interesting friends as it was on the station, this place perfect, nothing could ruin that.
Before he turned and started to walk away he saw a flicker of movement from inside. Probably the shop keeper. He turned and walked away and a tinge of pain from a not so recent injury caused him to stumble before righting himself.
He began whistling. a slow Andorain Blues tune.
Atlana heard him whistle... it was a tone she knew... it would get stuck in her head before long and she soon found herself humming with his whistle. She chuckled. "Good choice." She said not directly to him but loud enough he probably heard her.
He'd never really received any formal Federation training, never served in any official military at all, but he had learned his trade craft nonetheless. It was only that training and force of habit that kept him going forward at the same pace, or close to it.
He recognized that voice or thought he did and it made his blood run cold. Was that really HER? It couldn't be good it? Why had Fate or the Universe done this to him?
Atlana thought nothing of the stranger as there were many people on the starbase she didn't know. His whistle seemed the have gone a bit off pick at her comment and she thought perhaps she had heard him, she turned looked out the shops window and only then did she get a better look at his features. It wasn't possible... every thought every memory of her baby sisters murder came rushing back to her. She grabbed her chest as the pain of it was overwhelming. She had moved here to get away and plan... and recon... not find the last man responsible for her sister death.
Recovering she stepped outside her shop... "Come in why don't you, see my Bajorian treasures." She said in a much calmer voice then she expected because in her head she was screaming she was going to kill him.
He cursed himself and the Prophets. There was no use running, he was no coward, there was no use pretending he had not heard her, he wasn't a fool (and neither was she).
He slowly turned to face her, "I don't think that would be such a good idea."
Atlana's eyes widened slightly, he'd gotten older, for some reason people always stay in her head the way they were the last time she saw them. He was older then she remembered him being. They were no more then a few feet from each other... perhaps 10 or so. The tension in the corridor was intense and thick. Atlana was not as motivated to strike as she had been years ago in the bar. This was not the place to fight, and she was not going to lose her store to the likes of him. But she would have her vengance after all these years.
She wondered as they stood there eyeing each other if he was here permanently or just passing through. Passing through would mean that she would have to act quickly. "And yet it isn't in you to run away either Anjar."
"No," he stated simply, a bit put off that she of all people would call him by a name that he only let friends call him by. Sarish would have been the proper way. But then she was Cardassian after all. And calling him by his personal name would be the least of his worries.
The last time they met they had almost killed each other, would have killed each other had the Klingon bartender not interfered. It was only after that day four long years ago, they seemed more than a decade ago, that he had learned that the accusations that she had hurled at him had been true.
He hated Cardassians, still after all these years hated them, but he would never have blown that building up if he had known it was a school.
"No, I am not." he replied simply his tone neutral as he forced the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him down to a more manageable level in his mind.
She would have stood there with her arms folded had he been anyone else, but as it was she had nearly been killed by him years ago and she was not about to trust him now. "Am I still a liar?" Atlana didn't hate Bajorians, in fact there were some things about their culture she really enjoyed and loved. Their religious views were among her favorites. But the resistance and the murdering of innocent children had put her off to some. He was the last of his team. And before he had played off her accusations of murder and disillusion.
There was a long silience before he finally replied in a low voice, "No, you are not a liar. If found out that you were telling the truth. But just as you are no liar, I am... I am not a terrorist. We were told that it was training facility for the Obsidian Order. I had no idea it was a school. None of us did."
She was surprised slightly that he admitted it, right then and there. And even hesitated at the comment that he was not a terrorist, did he believe that? She wasn't sure. "Since when is bad intelligence an excuse in your line of work?" she was bitter, not at Bajorian's at him. Her sister, her father... her mother. Her whole family was gone because of his bad intel...
His training had taught him to lie and sound sincere about it, he was quite convincing at it. but this time, this time he was speaking the truth, at least he was speaking what he precieved to be the truth.
Even as he spoke he began a menatl inventory as to what he might use as a weapon if it came to that. He still packed a knife everywhere he went, not the same knife, but one that was almost as deadly, but he made no attempt to go for it. Not now, not without provocation.
The truth might not help him. Hell she might not even believe him, but it was his only option. "Tt wasn't our intel, it was yours."
Her eyebrows wrinkled slightly, just slightly. Atlana was not a spy, she was a killer. She was always armed. Her clothes were traditional for her culture and bit fluffy in their lavender colors but she had a knife in her boot and it could do damage. The order had leaked bad intelligence, it was not uncommon. but it was meant to catch and weed out cells, not blow up schools. No... no he was lying now. Atlana's stance adjusted, less aggressive... "Liar." She wouldn't accept it, not without proof. Not to say she wouldn't investigate on her own time, but she wouldn't accept it on his word.
"I believe that I made that same accusation against you four years ago."
That actually brought a smirk to her face, touche. "How fortunate for us there isn't a klingon to get in our way this time. You still killed my little sister all those years ago."
He looked around at the pretty much empty corridor, "Klingons do make a nusicance of themselves sometimes." he replied automaically coming up with a snide, smart ass reply,but his face changed color ever so slightly and his expression changed from neutral to unreadable.
"I am sorry. I didn't know for so long and whether you believe me or not, since I've found out I have felt guilty about it. Guilty to the point of nightmares and I have been trying to make up for it."
He wasn't sure why he was telling her this. Perhaps to obsolve himself of some the guilt he was confessing to her.
"Not to my family you haven't." She retorted. "My father killed himself because her death... as did my mother." She snapped a little louder then she meant to. She was not the unreadable sort, Atlana showed her anger. Because there was so little that really pissed her off.
The color drained from his face. "I am sorry," he told her, "IF I could go back and change things I would, but I can't. And if you really want to talk about family, what about mine. They died in the mines. Along with how many others?!"
The mines were a horrid place, she hated them. And her eyes showed it. "I'm sorry." She said quieter. "The mines were evil..." She was lost for just a moment this was stupid argument. "Just get back on your ship, Sarish." She retorted. "I don't want to fight here."
"I don't have a ship, or at least not one I'm going to retreat to. I live here now."
She had been about to leave him alone, but that stopped her. "You live here... on the base?" So much for perfect. She started towards him not wanting to cause a scene she kept her hands where he could see them. "Why?"
"Why do you live here?" he returned, "I'm opening a restaurant."
Atlana gestured to the shop she'd come out of. "I retired from the Order." She admitted. "I don't like operating in the dark." By the time she was done talking they were only a foot or so part. Well within striking distance and yet neither had even suggested they intended to.
He tugged at his earring then held out his hands palms up. "I was sorry to hear about the explosion at your embassy here. I wasn't even here yet though so I'm not responsible."
Atlana saw him tug on his earring... it was a strange behavior to say the least and Atlana felt the need to back away. Was he signalling someone? She'd gotten too close. Her hand went for her back, there was no weapon there! Just the one in her boot... damnitt she thought. "Why are you telling me that? Are you suspect?" She was back paddling and quickly.
He wasn't sure why she had backed away. He hadn't even been consciously aware of his gesture. "No," he replied a bit sharper than he intended. "I was trying to express some sympathy that is all. I just heard about it when I arrived yesterday. I just didn't want you to start pointing fingers at me just because of who I am."
"Who you are is a baby killer." She snapped. "That is who you are... and I would see you the same way if you were human, vulcan or any other species." She made a point it wasn't Bajorians she hated... just him at the moment. "You hate all cardassians."
He took a step back too now. Hearing her call him baby killer was like a slap in the face. One that he didn't deserve. The accusation about him hating all Carsassians hit closer to him. That at least was the truth and with good reason.
"You call me a baby killer?" he said through clenched teeth, "My people didn't start the occupation, you're people did. Mass genocide of a people just because that you and your kind perceived them as weaker. You shouldn't be surprised if we fight back."
Atlana felt his words hit in the pit of her stomach it wasn't that she was proud of the occupation, she hated most of it. Understood the thinking behind it. But still hated it. "Tayla was 8 years old..." She snapped back in the open corridor. "8! My only sister... and you killed her. You blew up a building with paper butterflies in the windows, and a play yard with swing sets. Even a weaker species would have reconsidered seeing such things! You were blinded by hate... it didn't matter that it was school. All that matter was that they were spoonheads." She had expected herself to get louder with anger, but she didn't Atlana was so soft spoken that it was scary.
His voice however did raise, "And you're so blinded by Obsidian Order propaganda that you'll believe anything they tell you. Hell yeah I hate your people after what you've done, but there were not butterflies in the windows, and there were no swing sets. Not that day anyway.
I would never target children no matter how righteous my cause."
Righteous?! RIGHTEOUS?! Atlana shook her head at him stupid man. "But you did... knowingly or not... you did." Atlana waved her hand at him, she was so sure that he wasn't even worth bringing up all those memories for that she just started back into her shop.
"Prohpets damnit! I know what I did," he said shouting now in anger or frustration maybe both. There weren't many people in that area, but those that were were scattering giving the two a wide berth.
It was war, I didn't know, I'm sorry."
Atlana stopped just at the edge of the shops door. Her hand rests on the frame, her safety... her way of hiding away from the order and everything damnable miserable in her life and she turned to look at him. I'm sorry.... "Don't Apologize, Sarish Anjar... people will think you care what I think of you."
"I don't, but I care what I think about me," came the terse reply as he turned on his heel and began to slowly walk away.
Atlana smirked, he was an interesting opponent. "For whatever it's worth, I am sorry too. I did not support the abuse in the mines or the occupation of Bajor." She wouldn't go so far as to tell him she'd only joined the Order AFTER he'd blown up the school. It didn't really matter after all... he hated all Cardassians. He was narrow minded and stupid.
Her apology didn't mean much to him, though it did sound sincere and he had no way of reading her mind. Was she really sorry for the abuses, for the horror, for everything that had happened to his people? He didn't know if it was possible.
His only visible reaction was to heistate, before he continued walking, inwardly he was beginning to think, though he was a long ways from changing his mind about anything.
She saw him hesitate and just assumed he'd never heard as cardassian say sorry. Ah well, she thought the the base was mostly perfect. She went back inside to clean up the display she was working on and maybe sharpen a knife or two. Now that they knew the other one was so close it would only be a matter of time before someone came for vengeance.... right.
As he turned the corner he began whistiling the same, sad, Andorian Blues song.
Sariah Anjar
Owner: Endeavors: 5
&
Atlana Durak
Owner: Unique Antiques
by Arrival Sarish Anjar & Arrival Atlana Durak
Post Details
| Title | Confrontation | |
| Mission | Things Past | |
| Author(s) | Arrival Sarish Anjar & Arrival Atlana Durak | |
| Posted | Thu Jan 10, 2013 @ 4:38am | |
| Location | Promande | |
| Timeline | SD 61 1430 |
He left his quarters and made his way to the Promenade. He had only been on board less than 24 hours, so everything was brand new to him, but as he walked, something he couldn't quite place felt wrong. As he passed an antique shop, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He looked through the glass, then turned and stated walking away.
Atlana had an arm full of scrolls, Vulcan replicas mostly, but still interesting enough that she had bought them. They were double and triple stacked in her arms and she could barely see of over them. Fortunately she'd managed to memorize the lay out of the shop... and she was able to navigate the shelves easily. Setting them down the counter she noticed a man moving past just outside the shop.
Atlana could tell he was Bajorian from the clothes he wore and his silhouette. As he walked she was oddly aware that his gate was off slightly. A lip or a sore... aged maybe or marred somehow. She watched him for a moment or two, not able to see his face she thought little of it. She'd made some interesting friends as it was on the station, this place perfect, nothing could ruin that.
Before he turned and started to walk away he saw a flicker of movement from inside. Probably the shop keeper. He turned and walked away and a tinge of pain from a not so recent injury caused him to stumble before righting himself.
He began whistling. a slow Andorain Blues tune.
Atlana heard him whistle... it was a tone she knew... it would get stuck in her head before long and she soon found herself humming with his whistle. She chuckled. "Good choice." She said not directly to him but loud enough he probably heard her.
He'd never really received any formal Federation training, never served in any official military at all, but he had learned his trade craft nonetheless. It was only that training and force of habit that kept him going forward at the same pace, or close to it.
He recognized that voice or thought he did and it made his blood run cold. Was that really HER? It couldn't be good it? Why had Fate or the Universe done this to him?
Atlana thought nothing of the stranger as there were many people on the starbase she didn't know. His whistle seemed the have gone a bit off pick at her comment and she thought perhaps she had heard him, she turned looked out the shops window and only then did she get a better look at his features. It wasn't possible... every thought every memory of her baby sisters murder came rushing back to her. She grabbed her chest as the pain of it was overwhelming. She had moved here to get away and plan... and recon... not find the last man responsible for her sister death.
Recovering she stepped outside her shop... "Come in why don't you, see my Bajorian treasures." She said in a much calmer voice then she expected because in her head she was screaming she was going to kill him.
He cursed himself and the Prophets. There was no use running, he was no coward, there was no use pretending he had not heard her, he wasn't a fool (and neither was she).
He slowly turned to face her, "I don't think that would be such a good idea."
Atlana's eyes widened slightly, he'd gotten older, for some reason people always stay in her head the way they were the last time she saw them. He was older then she remembered him being. They were no more then a few feet from each other... perhaps 10 or so. The tension in the corridor was intense and thick. Atlana was not as motivated to strike as she had been years ago in the bar. This was not the place to fight, and she was not going to lose her store to the likes of him. But she would have her vengance after all these years.
She wondered as they stood there eyeing each other if he was here permanently or just passing through. Passing through would mean that she would have to act quickly. "And yet it isn't in you to run away either Anjar."
"No," he stated simply, a bit put off that she of all people would call him by a name that he only let friends call him by. Sarish would have been the proper way. But then she was Cardassian after all. And calling him by his personal name would be the least of his worries.
The last time they met they had almost killed each other, would have killed each other had the Klingon bartender not interfered. It was only after that day four long years ago, they seemed more than a decade ago, that he had learned that the accusations that she had hurled at him had been true.
He hated Cardassians, still after all these years hated them, but he would never have blown that building up if he had known it was a school.
"No, I am not." he replied simply his tone neutral as he forced the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him down to a more manageable level in his mind.
She would have stood there with her arms folded had he been anyone else, but as it was she had nearly been killed by him years ago and she was not about to trust him now. "Am I still a liar?" Atlana didn't hate Bajorians, in fact there were some things about their culture she really enjoyed and loved. Their religious views were among her favorites. But the resistance and the murdering of innocent children had put her off to some. He was the last of his team. And before he had played off her accusations of murder and disillusion.
There was a long silience before he finally replied in a low voice, "No, you are not a liar. If found out that you were telling the truth. But just as you are no liar, I am... I am not a terrorist. We were told that it was training facility for the Obsidian Order. I had no idea it was a school. None of us did."
She was surprised slightly that he admitted it, right then and there. And even hesitated at the comment that he was not a terrorist, did he believe that? She wasn't sure. "Since when is bad intelligence an excuse in your line of work?" she was bitter, not at Bajorian's at him. Her sister, her father... her mother. Her whole family was gone because of his bad intel...
His training had taught him to lie and sound sincere about it, he was quite convincing at it. but this time, this time he was speaking the truth, at least he was speaking what he precieved to be the truth.
Even as he spoke he began a menatl inventory as to what he might use as a weapon if it came to that. He still packed a knife everywhere he went, not the same knife, but one that was almost as deadly, but he made no attempt to go for it. Not now, not without provocation.
The truth might not help him. Hell she might not even believe him, but it was his only option. "Tt wasn't our intel, it was yours."
Her eyebrows wrinkled slightly, just slightly. Atlana was not a spy, she was a killer. She was always armed. Her clothes were traditional for her culture and bit fluffy in their lavender colors but she had a knife in her boot and it could do damage. The order had leaked bad intelligence, it was not uncommon. but it was meant to catch and weed out cells, not blow up schools. No... no he was lying now. Atlana's stance adjusted, less aggressive... "Liar." She wouldn't accept it, not without proof. Not to say she wouldn't investigate on her own time, but she wouldn't accept it on his word.
"I believe that I made that same accusation against you four years ago."
That actually brought a smirk to her face, touche. "How fortunate for us there isn't a klingon to get in our way this time. You still killed my little sister all those years ago."
He looked around at the pretty much empty corridor, "Klingons do make a nusicance of themselves sometimes." he replied automaically coming up with a snide, smart ass reply,but his face changed color ever so slightly and his expression changed from neutral to unreadable.
"I am sorry. I didn't know for so long and whether you believe me or not, since I've found out I have felt guilty about it. Guilty to the point of nightmares and I have been trying to make up for it."
He wasn't sure why he was telling her this. Perhaps to obsolve himself of some the guilt he was confessing to her.
"Not to my family you haven't." She retorted. "My father killed himself because her death... as did my mother." She snapped a little louder then she meant to. She was not the unreadable sort, Atlana showed her anger. Because there was so little that really pissed her off.
The color drained from his face. "I am sorry," he told her, "IF I could go back and change things I would, but I can't. And if you really want to talk about family, what about mine. They died in the mines. Along with how many others?!"
The mines were a horrid place, she hated them. And her eyes showed it. "I'm sorry." She said quieter. "The mines were evil..." She was lost for just a moment this was stupid argument. "Just get back on your ship, Sarish." She retorted. "I don't want to fight here."
"I don't have a ship, or at least not one I'm going to retreat to. I live here now."
She had been about to leave him alone, but that stopped her. "You live here... on the base?" So much for perfect. She started towards him not wanting to cause a scene she kept her hands where he could see them. "Why?"
"Why do you live here?" he returned, "I'm opening a restaurant."
Atlana gestured to the shop she'd come out of. "I retired from the Order." She admitted. "I don't like operating in the dark." By the time she was done talking they were only a foot or so part. Well within striking distance and yet neither had even suggested they intended to.
He tugged at his earring then held out his hands palms up. "I was sorry to hear about the explosion at your embassy here. I wasn't even here yet though so I'm not responsible."
Atlana saw him tug on his earring... it was a strange behavior to say the least and Atlana felt the need to back away. Was he signalling someone? She'd gotten too close. Her hand went for her back, there was no weapon there! Just the one in her boot... damnitt she thought. "Why are you telling me that? Are you suspect?" She was back paddling and quickly.
He wasn't sure why she had backed away. He hadn't even been consciously aware of his gesture. "No," he replied a bit sharper than he intended. "I was trying to express some sympathy that is all. I just heard about it when I arrived yesterday. I just didn't want you to start pointing fingers at me just because of who I am."
"Who you are is a baby killer." She snapped. "That is who you are... and I would see you the same way if you were human, vulcan or any other species." She made a point it wasn't Bajorians she hated... just him at the moment. "You hate all cardassians."
He took a step back too now. Hearing her call him baby killer was like a slap in the face. One that he didn't deserve. The accusation about him hating all Carsassians hit closer to him. That at least was the truth and with good reason.
"You call me a baby killer?" he said through clenched teeth, "My people didn't start the occupation, you're people did. Mass genocide of a people just because that you and your kind perceived them as weaker. You shouldn't be surprised if we fight back."
Atlana felt his words hit in the pit of her stomach it wasn't that she was proud of the occupation, she hated most of it. Understood the thinking behind it. But still hated it. "Tayla was 8 years old..." She snapped back in the open corridor. "8! My only sister... and you killed her. You blew up a building with paper butterflies in the windows, and a play yard with swing sets. Even a weaker species would have reconsidered seeing such things! You were blinded by hate... it didn't matter that it was school. All that matter was that they were spoonheads." She had expected herself to get louder with anger, but she didn't Atlana was so soft spoken that it was scary.
His voice however did raise, "And you're so blinded by Obsidian Order propaganda that you'll believe anything they tell you. Hell yeah I hate your people after what you've done, but there were not butterflies in the windows, and there were no swing sets. Not that day anyway.
I would never target children no matter how righteous my cause."
Righteous?! RIGHTEOUS?! Atlana shook her head at him stupid man. "But you did... knowingly or not... you did." Atlana waved her hand at him, she was so sure that he wasn't even worth bringing up all those memories for that she just started back into her shop.
"Prohpets damnit! I know what I did," he said shouting now in anger or frustration maybe both. There weren't many people in that area, but those that were were scattering giving the two a wide berth.
It was war, I didn't know, I'm sorry."
Atlana stopped just at the edge of the shops door. Her hand rests on the frame, her safety... her way of hiding away from the order and everything damnable miserable in her life and she turned to look at him. I'm sorry.... "Don't Apologize, Sarish Anjar... people will think you care what I think of you."
"I don't, but I care what I think about me," came the terse reply as he turned on his heel and began to slowly walk away.
Atlana smirked, he was an interesting opponent. "For whatever it's worth, I am sorry too. I did not support the abuse in the mines or the occupation of Bajor." She wouldn't go so far as to tell him she'd only joined the Order AFTER he'd blown up the school. It didn't really matter after all... he hated all Cardassians. He was narrow minded and stupid.
Her apology didn't mean much to him, though it did sound sincere and he had no way of reading her mind. Was she really sorry for the abuses, for the horror, for everything that had happened to his people? He didn't know if it was possible.
His only visible reaction was to heistate, before he continued walking, inwardly he was beginning to think, though he was a long ways from changing his mind about anything.
She saw him hesitate and just assumed he'd never heard as cardassian say sorry. Ah well, she thought the the base was mostly perfect. She went back inside to clean up the display she was working on and maybe sharpen a knife or two. Now that they knew the other one was so close it would only be a matter of time before someone came for vengeance.... right.
As he turned the corner he began whistiling the same, sad, Andorian Blues song.
Sariah Anjar
Owner: Endeavors: 5
&
Atlana Durak
Owner: Unique Antiques