Interlude – Tea and ...
by Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal & Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
ON:
“… not nearly as awful as you suggested, ri’nanov” Isha’s daughter smiled looking more relaxed than when Isha had last seen her in person. “I believe that you were exaggerating.”
“Aidoann, I never exaggerate. The Praetor’s wife can be charming, but have someone test the tea for poison if she pours it herself,” Isha said with the merest hint of warning.
“Now I know you’re not being serious, I … “ Aidoann looked up and to her right muttering a few inaudible words to someone out of the screen’s range. “ri’nanov,” she said apologetically as she turned back, “Uncle Aehkhifv has arrived unexpectedly, do you mind awfully if …”
Isha shook her head. She did not mind, but it had been some time since she had spoken with her daughter on such good terms, "We'll speak another day," Isha said, "Just don't let that old hnoiyika convince you into anything. Everything is as I want it to be. If he asks for one bar of latinum more tell him I'll pare back the stipend his Senate seat attracts until it is so thin he'll cut himself on it. We'll speak soon."
As she closed he channel Isha rose stretching her arms wide and rolling her head in a circle over her shoulder; the relaxation techniques that Doctor Adams had suggested seemed to be doing her some good.
Isha smoothed the skirt of her gown over her hips, the soft green velvet sweeping down to the floor, the hem tickling the tops of her bare feet as she moved. Isha pullled the comb from her hair shaking it free over her shoulders as she lifted her abandoned shawl from the back of the chair with the same hand before stooping to pick up her discarded shoes with the other. "Camomile tea, please," she said as she passed the replicator and padded barefoot into her dressing room.
"Computer, play The Lament of Shiarrael," she asked as she emerged, dimming the lights, and as the first bars of the haunting operetta filled the room she lifted the little tray from the replicator and carried the pot and glass tea cup to the central seating area breathing deeply and savouring the ligtht flowery aroma as thin tendrils of steam curled from the spout.
Placing the tray on the table. Isha sat and curled her feet beneath herself as she laid her head on the arm of the sofa and wrapped her arms around a large cushion. Speaking with Pia had proved liberating in a way that Isha had never expected it to. Hugging her pillow more closely Isha smiled fancying herself as the troubled heroin of the piece as the voice of the famed vocalist Evaste Taris began to sing.
----
Tharek's finger scanned over a piece of blue paper he had acquired. It was the hand drawn blueprints to the Romulan Consulate. He knew that sooner or later, some Romulan would make a mistake, and Tharek would have to quell the mistake. He was searching for something, anything, that could give him an edge over the Romulans. Soon, his finger came across an anomoly.
A door that shouldn't exist. A space in Isha's office that went nowhere yet was there. Tharek followed the invisible line the door created, and smiled. Isha had created a door out of her office. A safe haven to those that intrude.
Tharek was about to change the sway of power on the station. It was Cardassia's turn now.
----
Pushing the cushion aside Isha reached out a lazy hand and poured her tea, shifting slightly so that she could raise the cup to her lips without spilling it. The warm aroma of grassy flowers was strong, though the flavour somewhat weak she thought as she sipped, still, it tasted better than the valerian tea she had tried earlier. As she sipped the first scene of the operetta closed.
Isha knew the libretto by heart: Separated from the hunting party that had set out in good spirits, Shiarrael realises that she is alone in the primordial forest. The mood of the music changes as she urges her riding beast on, every step seeming to take her deeper into ....
Hearing a sound that was not part of the music Isha raised herself on one arm, listening before she lowered her cup and sat, placing it aside on the table. "Do the words, 'not to be disturbed' mean nothing these days?" she muttered to herself as she straighened, expecting to hear the door chime.
It didn't chime. It should have, but it didn't. Somehow, Tharek stood as the centremost point in the room. His eyes gone from his usual dark brown, to an almost jet black. "Your blood is mine, Romulan." He proclaimed. He glared down on Isha. His victim.
Isha jumped to her feet. "Computer, intruder!" she said, eyes wide and aghast that he could be there in her private apartment. "Computer?" she repeated moving behind the sofa, knocking the table in her haste to put an obstacle between them, dimly aware of the dull thwup as the teacup topelled and fell to the floor, its contents spilled and seeping silently into the thick rug.
"There is nothing to help you. Nothing to give you leverage this time." Tharek said, stalking forward on his prey. He loomed over her with fiery eyes and grinding teeth. "There is one thing that you never do in your lifetime. And that, is anger me!" Tharek bellowed at the girl. She was pathetic in his eyes. She held a tremendous amount of power in her tiny hands. Yet, at this moment, she was the reptile's prey. And he would feast.
"Get out, Getal. I don't care how you got in, it doesn't matter," Isha said her mouth dry as she backed away. She needed to keep moving, not to allow him to corner her. She knew how strong he was and knew that so far he had barely touched her. Perhaps he had thought that a taste would be enough to deter her. "Please, get out," she repeated her unblinking gaze not leaving him.
Tharek burst into laughter. "I wouldn't get out of this room for all of the Latinum in the galaxy. You fired a disruptor on me, and not only that, you made quite a nasty dent in my palm... " He said, showing her the mark. "You could've said nothing. You could've done nothing. Now, I must do something."
Isha found it very hard to feel sorry for having injured him, impossible in fact. "Did you expect me not to take steps to defend myself? Are you really so delusional that you think I am simply going to stand back and be intimidated by a bullying egomaniac?" she flared, any fear of him subsumed for now by her outrage at his intrusion into her sanctuary. "We're even, Getal."
"Oh no." He said, pointing down on her. "We're far from even. The mere fact that you're alive shows we're not even. I will kill you, Romulan, but not physically. I will break the foundations of everything you hold dear, of everything that you treasure. I will make you beg me to kill you!"
Back down, Isha! that was what the subconscious voice that spoke to Isha in the tone of her husband's brother told her to do, for once it was giving reasonable advice, but as usual it was a voice that she chose to ignore. Getal meant what he said, she saw that, but she met his threat with a fierce, defiant ice-green gaze, "Better men than you have tried to put me down, Getal," Isha said feeling the strain in her throat as she struggled to keep her tone low and even, "yet here I am."
"They might have been 'better' to you, or in reputation, but I don't care. I have spent the majority of my life dealing with diplomatic cesspits like you. I killed most of them." He said, seeming to be without a moral core. "You will break. You will see the error of your ways. You will rue the day you were ever born!"
"No, they were just better than you, in every way imaginable," Isha said turning on her heel as she spoke. "They were Rihannsu, you are Cardassian, therefore you are lesser than they," she explained as she hit the door controls and ... and nothing. Isha turned back eyeing the Cardassian warily.
She was trapped.
That was why he was taking his time.
This was his design and from her he had nothing to fear.
As he moved Tharek raised his hand, and struck her without missing a step, the crack of his knuckles across her cheek loud in the momentary silence. "Do not use the Cardassian name in that tone!" He bellowed. "They were Romulan." He said with disgust. "And, if my intelligence sources are right, dead! I am very much alive. Very much here. And I'm going to enjoy making you suffer, very much."
Isha reeled, tasting her own blood, but kept her feet. Her hand automatically covering the place where he had struck, her skin bruised, flushed and stinging beneath her touch. A tremour ran through Isha's body, merging with the seeping dread that oozed from the melting pit of Isha's stomach. And you'll join them, she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat.
Tharek towered over her. He was considerably taller than she was. He loomed on her with eyes of ice. He flexed at the outburst of aggression onto Isha's face. The silence was pleasing to him. "Now... That's better."
Slowly Isha lowered her hand bringing it to grasp her other on a level just below her breast. She gripped the skin on the inside of her cheek between her teeth and suddenly straightened her arms shoving with her palms as hard as she could against his chest. As he staggered back a step Isha moved, looking for something, anything she could use against him.
Tharek regained himself quickly. He grabbed at the knife stored in his boot and drew it with killing efficiency. Tharek lunged for her arm and brought her close to his chest, wrapping her tight in his free arm. The other arm held the blade, and the blade rest on Isha's throat.
She could feel the hard press of his ridged uniform through the soft fabric of her gown where her body was pressed against him, and beneath her fingers which grasped at the arm that imprisoned her. Not daring to struggle as she felt the cold dig of sharp metal against her delicate skin, Isha tilted her head upwards, her eyes pleading for him to release her. "Getal," Isha breathed.
Tharek smirked eerily. "Speak, Romulan."
There was something sinister in that invitation, Isha thought. He was playing with her, but she also saw that she had nothing to lose. "You can't gain anything by this," Isha told him, her tone soft and reasonable, but tainted by the slight ripple of fear. "Just let me go. I'll say nothing."
"You'll say nothing anyway, but I'm not letting you go." Tharek said, sending a verbal wave of disappointment at Isha. "I am Cardassian, and you are an enemy of the state. Enemies of the state deserve no mercy!" He shouted, before throwing her to the ground with his full strength. He made sure she landed on a particular point on her kneecap, purposely so she couldn't get up, or even crawl away without crippling herself.
Isha yelped as she fell feeling the crack in her joint as it struck the tiled floor first. Driven by the force of Getal's thrust Isha sprawled at his feet.
First one hand, then the other Isha pushed herself up to her elbows then she grasped the back of the nearby armchair dragging herself from the ground. As a sharp pain lanced through her injured knee an anguished wail escaped her lips and she let go of the chair, falling back on her hip. Isha raised her head. Through the loose dishevelled strands of hair that fell over her face she stared up at Getal with terror-darkened eyes.
"Enemy of the State?" she queried in horrified disbelief as her eyes watched the glint of light shift on the honed blade of his knife, her status with all major governments was clean as far as she knew.
“You angered me, and I am Cardassia,” Tharek said boldly. He stomped his way over to Isha and picked her up in the air by her forearms. As she writhed in his grasp a thought sprang into his mind. A consciousness he never knew existed.
Do it! She angered you, she has to be punished! Do it! Do it! Do it!
Tharek succumbed to the voice. He dropped Isha on the sofa, face down, her hips raised over its arm. The hulking Cardassian grabbed hold of the Romulan’s hands in one grasp behind her back, and with the other he lifted the lower part of Isha’s garment.
Then, Tharek did the unthinkable, the unimaginable. He raped her.
Isha could barely breathe. She kicked back with her good leg, failing to make contact or to dislodge him, the pain her injured knee temporarily diminished by his new torture.
As he held her down she realised that the music was still playing, the tinkling liquid strains of joy where Shiarrael dances with the embodiment of Ihhuein the water elemental in a sun drenched forest clearing providing a stark and poignant counterpoint to Getal’s vicious assault.
Managing to lift her head and snatch a breath Isha’s eyes darted around.
Through the blur of her tears she glimpsed the round glass teapot, inches away from her head, still half full of hot golden liquid, and glowing in her mind’s eye like the sun.
All it needed was a slip … the barest slip of his thumb and … and .. and ... and ... and ... and ... and ... and ... and ... one wrist was loosed. The Elements had not entirely forsaken her.
White knuckled, her fingers clenched the cushion into which her face was crushed as she waited in a moment that felt like forever until she was sure that he was not going to wrench her hand back again.
Isha clawed for the teapot, grasping it by the spout. She was oblivious to the scalding liquid that spilled down her arm as she lifted it and which spattered them both as she forced her arm back over her head, smashing it into his face.
Tharek keeled back from the sofa, covering his eyes. Blood trickled down his face and his hand felt like it had been dipped in a plasma conduit. "You Romulan piece of skrăgh!" He called out, trying to grab at something to keep her in place. It was no use, he was at a loss. He attempted to open his eyes, and managed a squint. Blood still dripping from his face.
Isha's breath came between sobs as she scrabbled forward to get away from him. Feeling the slide of relief as they parted she tipped herself off the edge of the sofa, not feeling the fallen teacup that shattered into her arm as she landed, unware of the glass from the broken teapot that fell into her tangled hair and stuck to the Cardassians blood. Again she tried, and failed to stand.
Tharek squinted through a dark red haze, and saw Isha. He lunged at her injured leg, and dragged her to the middle of the floor, and spat at her. "Let this serve as a lesson to stay out of my way, and to do what you're told when you're told. You pathetic fucking child." He said, turning to leave.
"v'rhaen-ao'au!" Isha screamed at him, and she meant it, whether with her own hand or that of a proxy; she wanted this Cardassian bastard to choke on his own entrails before he died.
"o'çada rhamoulda skrăgh Tharek spat back. He turned, and left. He wiped as much of the blood from his face as possible. Only the cut remained, which ran deep across his right eye. He would keep it, as a reminder to never underestimate a Romulan with a teapot.
OFF
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
by Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal & Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
| Title | Tea and ... | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal & Commander Isha t'Vaurek | |
| Posted | Fri Jun 04, 2010 @ 11:08am | |
| Location | Romulan Consulate, Ambassador's Suite | |
| Timeline | Three days after 'If War is what it takes ...' ~ SD21 |
“… not nearly as awful as you suggested, ri’nanov” Isha’s daughter smiled looking more relaxed than when Isha had last seen her in person. “I believe that you were exaggerating.”
“Aidoann, I never exaggerate. The Praetor’s wife can be charming, but have someone test the tea for poison if she pours it herself,” Isha said with the merest hint of warning.
“Now I know you’re not being serious, I … “ Aidoann looked up and to her right muttering a few inaudible words to someone out of the screen’s range. “ri’nanov,” she said apologetically as she turned back, “Uncle Aehkhifv has arrived unexpectedly, do you mind awfully if …”
Isha shook her head. She did not mind, but it had been some time since she had spoken with her daughter on such good terms, "We'll speak another day," Isha said, "Just don't let that old hnoiyika convince you into anything. Everything is as I want it to be. If he asks for one bar of latinum more tell him I'll pare back the stipend his Senate seat attracts until it is so thin he'll cut himself on it. We'll speak soon."
As she closed he channel Isha rose stretching her arms wide and rolling her head in a circle over her shoulder; the relaxation techniques that Doctor Adams had suggested seemed to be doing her some good.
Isha smoothed the skirt of her gown over her hips, the soft green velvet sweeping down to the floor, the hem tickling the tops of her bare feet as she moved. Isha pullled the comb from her hair shaking it free over her shoulders as she lifted her abandoned shawl from the back of the chair with the same hand before stooping to pick up her discarded shoes with the other. "Camomile tea, please," she said as she passed the replicator and padded barefoot into her dressing room.
"Computer, play The Lament of Shiarrael," she asked as she emerged, dimming the lights, and as the first bars of the haunting operetta filled the room she lifted the little tray from the replicator and carried the pot and glass tea cup to the central seating area breathing deeply and savouring the ligtht flowery aroma as thin tendrils of steam curled from the spout.
Placing the tray on the table. Isha sat and curled her feet beneath herself as she laid her head on the arm of the sofa and wrapped her arms around a large cushion. Speaking with Pia had proved liberating in a way that Isha had never expected it to. Hugging her pillow more closely Isha smiled fancying herself as the troubled heroin of the piece as the voice of the famed vocalist Evaste Taris began to sing.
----
Tharek's finger scanned over a piece of blue paper he had acquired. It was the hand drawn blueprints to the Romulan Consulate. He knew that sooner or later, some Romulan would make a mistake, and Tharek would have to quell the mistake. He was searching for something, anything, that could give him an edge over the Romulans. Soon, his finger came across an anomoly.
A door that shouldn't exist. A space in Isha's office that went nowhere yet was there. Tharek followed the invisible line the door created, and smiled. Isha had created a door out of her office. A safe haven to those that intrude.
Tharek was about to change the sway of power on the station. It was Cardassia's turn now.
----
Pushing the cushion aside Isha reached out a lazy hand and poured her tea, shifting slightly so that she could raise the cup to her lips without spilling it. The warm aroma of grassy flowers was strong, though the flavour somewhat weak she thought as she sipped, still, it tasted better than the valerian tea she had tried earlier. As she sipped the first scene of the operetta closed.
Isha knew the libretto by heart: Separated from the hunting party that had set out in good spirits, Shiarrael realises that she is alone in the primordial forest. The mood of the music changes as she urges her riding beast on, every step seeming to take her deeper into ....
Hearing a sound that was not part of the music Isha raised herself on one arm, listening before she lowered her cup and sat, placing it aside on the table. "Do the words, 'not to be disturbed' mean nothing these days?" she muttered to herself as she straighened, expecting to hear the door chime.
It didn't chime. It should have, but it didn't. Somehow, Tharek stood as the centremost point in the room. His eyes gone from his usual dark brown, to an almost jet black. "Your blood is mine, Romulan." He proclaimed. He glared down on Isha. His victim.
Isha jumped to her feet. "Computer, intruder!" she said, eyes wide and aghast that he could be there in her private apartment. "Computer?" she repeated moving behind the sofa, knocking the table in her haste to put an obstacle between them, dimly aware of the dull thwup as the teacup topelled and fell to the floor, its contents spilled and seeping silently into the thick rug.
"There is nothing to help you. Nothing to give you leverage this time." Tharek said, stalking forward on his prey. He loomed over her with fiery eyes and grinding teeth. "There is one thing that you never do in your lifetime. And that, is anger me!" Tharek bellowed at the girl. She was pathetic in his eyes. She held a tremendous amount of power in her tiny hands. Yet, at this moment, she was the reptile's prey. And he would feast.
"Get out, Getal. I don't care how you got in, it doesn't matter," Isha said her mouth dry as she backed away. She needed to keep moving, not to allow him to corner her. She knew how strong he was and knew that so far he had barely touched her. Perhaps he had thought that a taste would be enough to deter her. "Please, get out," she repeated her unblinking gaze not leaving him.
Tharek burst into laughter. "I wouldn't get out of this room for all of the Latinum in the galaxy. You fired a disruptor on me, and not only that, you made quite a nasty dent in my palm... " He said, showing her the mark. "You could've said nothing. You could've done nothing. Now, I must do something."
Isha found it very hard to feel sorry for having injured him, impossible in fact. "Did you expect me not to take steps to defend myself? Are you really so delusional that you think I am simply going to stand back and be intimidated by a bullying egomaniac?" she flared, any fear of him subsumed for now by her outrage at his intrusion into her sanctuary. "We're even, Getal."
"Oh no." He said, pointing down on her. "We're far from even. The mere fact that you're alive shows we're not even. I will kill you, Romulan, but not physically. I will break the foundations of everything you hold dear, of everything that you treasure. I will make you beg me to kill you!"
Back down, Isha! that was what the subconscious voice that spoke to Isha in the tone of her husband's brother told her to do, for once it was giving reasonable advice, but as usual it was a voice that she chose to ignore. Getal meant what he said, she saw that, but she met his threat with a fierce, defiant ice-green gaze, "Better men than you have tried to put me down, Getal," Isha said feeling the strain in her throat as she struggled to keep her tone low and even, "yet here I am."
"They might have been 'better' to you, or in reputation, but I don't care. I have spent the majority of my life dealing with diplomatic cesspits like you. I killed most of them." He said, seeming to be without a moral core. "You will break. You will see the error of your ways. You will rue the day you were ever born!"
"No, they were just better than you, in every way imaginable," Isha said turning on her heel as she spoke. "They were Rihannsu, you are Cardassian, therefore you are lesser than they," she explained as she hit the door controls and ... and nothing. Isha turned back eyeing the Cardassian warily.
She was trapped.
That was why he was taking his time.
This was his design and from her he had nothing to fear.
As he moved Tharek raised his hand, and struck her without missing a step, the crack of his knuckles across her cheek loud in the momentary silence. "Do not use the Cardassian name in that tone!" He bellowed. "They were Romulan." He said with disgust. "And, if my intelligence sources are right, dead! I am very much alive. Very much here. And I'm going to enjoy making you suffer, very much."
Isha reeled, tasting her own blood, but kept her feet. Her hand automatically covering the place where he had struck, her skin bruised, flushed and stinging beneath her touch. A tremour ran through Isha's body, merging with the seeping dread that oozed from the melting pit of Isha's stomach. And you'll join them, she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat.
Tharek towered over her. He was considerably taller than she was. He loomed on her with eyes of ice. He flexed at the outburst of aggression onto Isha's face. The silence was pleasing to him. "Now... That's better."
Slowly Isha lowered her hand bringing it to grasp her other on a level just below her breast. She gripped the skin on the inside of her cheek between her teeth and suddenly straightened her arms shoving with her palms as hard as she could against his chest. As he staggered back a step Isha moved, looking for something, anything she could use against him.
Tharek regained himself quickly. He grabbed at the knife stored in his boot and drew it with killing efficiency. Tharek lunged for her arm and brought her close to his chest, wrapping her tight in his free arm. The other arm held the blade, and the blade rest on Isha's throat.
She could feel the hard press of his ridged uniform through the soft fabric of her gown where her body was pressed against him, and beneath her fingers which grasped at the arm that imprisoned her. Not daring to struggle as she felt the cold dig of sharp metal against her delicate skin, Isha tilted her head upwards, her eyes pleading for him to release her. "Getal," Isha breathed.
Tharek smirked eerily. "Speak, Romulan."
There was something sinister in that invitation, Isha thought. He was playing with her, but she also saw that she had nothing to lose. "You can't gain anything by this," Isha told him, her tone soft and reasonable, but tainted by the slight ripple of fear. "Just let me go. I'll say nothing."
"You'll say nothing anyway, but I'm not letting you go." Tharek said, sending a verbal wave of disappointment at Isha. "I am Cardassian, and you are an enemy of the state. Enemies of the state deserve no mercy!" He shouted, before throwing her to the ground with his full strength. He made sure she landed on a particular point on her kneecap, purposely so she couldn't get up, or even crawl away without crippling herself.
Isha yelped as she fell feeling the crack in her joint as it struck the tiled floor first. Driven by the force of Getal's thrust Isha sprawled at his feet.
First one hand, then the other Isha pushed herself up to her elbows then she grasped the back of the nearby armchair dragging herself from the ground. As a sharp pain lanced through her injured knee an anguished wail escaped her lips and she let go of the chair, falling back on her hip. Isha raised her head. Through the loose dishevelled strands of hair that fell over her face she stared up at Getal with terror-darkened eyes.
"Enemy of the State?" she queried in horrified disbelief as her eyes watched the glint of light shift on the honed blade of his knife, her status with all major governments was clean as far as she knew.
“You angered me, and I am Cardassia,” Tharek said boldly. He stomped his way over to Isha and picked her up in the air by her forearms. As she writhed in his grasp a thought sprang into his mind. A consciousness he never knew existed.
Do it! She angered you, she has to be punished! Do it! Do it! Do it!
Tharek succumbed to the voice. He dropped Isha on the sofa, face down, her hips raised over its arm. The hulking Cardassian grabbed hold of the Romulan’s hands in one grasp behind her back, and with the other he lifted the lower part of Isha’s garment.
Then, Tharek did the unthinkable, the unimaginable. He raped her.
Isha could barely breathe. She kicked back with her good leg, failing to make contact or to dislodge him, the pain her injured knee temporarily diminished by his new torture.
As he held her down she realised that the music was still playing, the tinkling liquid strains of joy where Shiarrael dances with the embodiment of Ihhuein the water elemental in a sun drenched forest clearing providing a stark and poignant counterpoint to Getal’s vicious assault.
Managing to lift her head and snatch a breath Isha’s eyes darted around.
Through the blur of her tears she glimpsed the round glass teapot, inches away from her head, still half full of hot golden liquid, and glowing in her mind’s eye like the sun.
All it needed was a slip … the barest slip of his thumb and … and .. and ... and ... and ... and ... and ... and ... and ... one wrist was loosed. The Elements had not entirely forsaken her.
White knuckled, her fingers clenched the cushion into which her face was crushed as she waited in a moment that felt like forever until she was sure that he was not going to wrench her hand back again.
Isha clawed for the teapot, grasping it by the spout. She was oblivious to the scalding liquid that spilled down her arm as she lifted it and which spattered them both as she forced her arm back over her head, smashing it into his face.
Tharek keeled back from the sofa, covering his eyes. Blood trickled down his face and his hand felt like it had been dipped in a plasma conduit. "You Romulan piece of skrăgh!" He called out, trying to grab at something to keep her in place. It was no use, he was at a loss. He attempted to open his eyes, and managed a squint. Blood still dripping from his face.
Isha's breath came between sobs as she scrabbled forward to get away from him. Feeling the slide of relief as they parted she tipped herself off the edge of the sofa, not feeling the fallen teacup that shattered into her arm as she landed, unware of the glass from the broken teapot that fell into her tangled hair and stuck to the Cardassians blood. Again she tried, and failed to stand.
Tharek squinted through a dark red haze, and saw Isha. He lunged at her injured leg, and dragged her to the middle of the floor, and spat at her. "Let this serve as a lesson to stay out of my way, and to do what you're told when you're told. You pathetic fucking child." He said, turning to leave.
"v'rhaen-ao'au!" Isha screamed at him, and she meant it, whether with her own hand or that of a proxy; she wanted this Cardassian bastard to choke on his own entrails before he died.
"o'çada rhamoulda skrăgh Tharek spat back. He turned, and left. He wiped as much of the blood from his face as possible. Only the cut remained, which ran deep across his right eye. He would keep it, as a reminder to never underestimate a Romulan with a teapot.
OFF
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal