Beg, Steal or Borrow – And then there were three ... Part 1
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Lieutenant JG Opaka Jo'el
Post Details
Almost as soon as Opaka was gone Isha felt her body flood and grow heavy with regret. “I must be insane,” she muttered thankful that he had not asked her exactly what her likelihood of success was.
He would have tried it too, to fight his way through each Isha thought as she shifted back into the transporter room ready to emerge once the Romulans were in the corridor. How odd to think of them that way, she thought, wondering also if they would notice that the door had been forced open much further than she needed to squeeze through.
Isha was two steps through the door when they shouted to her: “Beist! Ssuaj-difv?”
She stopped.
I have lost my mind, Isha thought as she glanced back over her shoulder and turned, as if caught in the act of escape.
All she ever did was act.
There was no place for fear or vulnerability to show in the world through which she moved – there was no place for her; those feelings, which weakened her, she dismissed or pushed aside to be considered later and alone if that time came.
Convincing herself that she was not afraid.
“Why am I here?” Isha asked as they closed the distance between them, trying not to think of the last time she had been left alone with someone hostile. She opened her hands as she backed away a step, “I’m not armed,” she said.
The one who reached her first, the smaller of the two seemed unprepared to take her word for it. Isha did not resist as he lowered his disruptor and searched her.
“Your mother’s name is Vrina,” Isha said, her gaze coming to rest on the other man; he did not reply, though his surprise was apparent.
“Shut up,” the other one said sharply as he jerked her wrists together and secured her hands.
Isha sucked in a breath; So they have me, and this one takes a little too much pleasure in his work, she thought. “That was unnecessary,” she told him coupled with a look that was rather more vicious than she intended.
---
Jo'el sat in the weapons locker, rigging together several disrupter pistols in a resistance-style bomb, should worst come to worst.
"Why am I here?" he heard Isha say through the comm link.
Nice one, Isha, always plead ignorance, I'm sure that goes a long way with a species that holds knowledge and secrecy in such high esteem... He smiled in spite of himself as he added another link to his deadly chain of weaponry. A couple more and Jo'el would be obliged to bring his handiwork back to DS5 and present it to Da'Nal as a trophy, or a replacement military sash. If humans can make belts out of bullet casings, why not?
"Your mother's name is Vrina," came next.
I hope Vrina is an authentic Romulan name and not an insult. Jo'el shook his head at the thought of Romulans settling their differences by playing the dozens. Your mother's ears are so round, she makes Grand Nagus Rom look like the Praetor.
Jo'el straightened up when he realized the severity of the situation. If Isha knew one of those guards, then they may have an ally on this ship.
He continued with his jury-rigging and filed the insult away for future reference. If I live, I'm not backing down to any disrespectful Vulcanoids in strange bars ever again.
---
Her escorts did not speak to one another, let alone her which was not giving her much opportunity to find an accommodation.
For now Isha had stopped up trying to engage the larger one in conversation after his companion had cracked the back of his hand across her cheek. It took all her resolve not to stamp the tall thin heel of her shoe down on the bridge of his foot, even through boots he’d be feeling that for a week – but she held back and lowered her eyes as though she had given in.
Maybe I should have run, Isha thought as they entered the turbolift. SHer jaw throbbed as she tested her lip with the edge of her tongue; the thin trickle of blood had begun to dry but she could still taste it in her mouth.
Dignity was a strength, and now that she had connected the larger man with a little boy of the age of six who had been a companion of her son Hexce, it was the best thing she had to work with.
His name was Ruwon.
---
Strapping the loop of disruptor/bombs over his shoulder, Jo'el stood up and started contemplating his next move. Kira, If get out of this, I'm sending you a bottle of spring wine for all those Resistance stories.
He recalled the ship's schematic Isha showed him briefly. He remembered a maintenance locker or something similar up the way Isha had gone. That would keep him closer, and with a deep breath, Jo'el stuck his head out the door. He yanked back in quickly when he saw an armed soldier performing some sort of diagnostic on a panel in the direction Jo'el was heading.
Jo'el bent down and removed the dak'tagh from the strap on his calf. Now's not the time for feeling guilty about keeping secrets from the captain...
He hit spring-loaded button while holding the side blades in place, slowly easing them into place so as to avoid the bold metallic clang they would normally make. Klingon weapons were effective, no doubt, but they lacked any sort of subtlety.
His weapon ready, Jo'el opened the locker door just enough to get out. He stalked in a crouch to the soldier. It's him or me... and Isha. Jo'el reached out, grabbing the uniformed Romulan by the shoulder. He inserted the dak'tagh into his prey's exposed neck, watching the green viscous fluid drain from the wound. He eased the soldier to the floor and quickly prayed to the Prophets for the repose of the departed's soul.
Say something, Isha Jo'el thought, making his way up the corridor.
---
“Your name is Ruwon,” Isha said as soon as she was sure they were alone.
“I have orders not to speak with you,” was his curt reply. “Merrok will not be gone long.”
Isha touched her fingertips together, with her wrists bound there was little else she could do. She did not need long. “I am your hru’Hfirh,” she reminded Ruwon, “I am requesting that you do speak with me.”
He shifted uncomfortably, conflict apparent in each thought that rippled across his face. “You remember my name,” he said eventually.
Isha nodded. Though he might try and call himself hru’Hfirh, Nniol would not remember such a detail had he ever known it. Isha and her husband had known the name and face of every man, woman and child entitled to the name Illialhlae, from their closest advisors all the way down to the servants.
“You have Vrina’s eyes,” Isha said catching his gaze. Like his mother’s, Ruwon’s deep brown eyes were flecked with bronze that glinted in the light. “You were no taller than my waist the last time I saw you and now you are a Galae Sub-Commander, so quite how that makes you sub-ordinate to your companion Marrok I have yet to understand. How things change! I know that you are not here as part of the House contingent, you no longer carry our name since your marriage, and I doubt my husband’s brother would give charge of me to someone of my husband’s blood. How is your wife, Ruwon?”
“Our second son was born a year ago.”
“Good. Had he lived, Hexce would have been delighted too. What is on your mind, Ruwon?” Isha asked.
“Not everyone on board is happy with the situation. We were underway before we learned that the ship had altered its course. The movement was planned, there were systems that required testing that could only be done underway, and the final fitting could only be done in another shipyard - but we never reached the shipyard above Taish. Some did protest, but once they were silenced the rest of us …”
“Were content to follow orders,” Isha finished the sentence for him; at least he had the decency to look ashamed. “So here we are in a very functional vessel from which my husband’s brother seeks to depose the legitimate heir of his brother. He made that argument I suppose – that I married the family and therefore cannot lead it?”
Ruwon nodded.
“The Senate saw otherwise, particularly as I have already named our daughter heir; you see he will disinherit her also in his own favour. Nniol has proven himself unfit to lead too many times – I have evidence that … perhaps it is better that I not speak of that evidence – if I share it with you your life will be in danger.”
“Evidence of what?”
He wanted to know, with his innate curiosity Isha had known he would. “There are few people who would disagree that my husband Nveid was a great man … what information that was salvaged from Chin’toka suggested that not every ship that was lost fell to the Breen. It took me years of searching to acquire a copy of the relevant communications that had not been redacted or otherwise corrupted – the Federation were very thorough in going through the debris. My husband’s vessel was in trouble before the Breen struck – there was a distress call sent from his ship and the encryption was such that I know it to be legitimate. Nniol destroyed his brother, our son Hexce and countless others. I could prove, if necessary that he had foreknowledge of the Breen attack which he withheld, which makes him not only a traitor to his own family but to the Empire, and at that time to civilisation itself. Nniol wants me to transfer power to him and for it to be seen to be legitimate - I think you’ll understand that I cannot agree to that.”
Every fold of his face expressed his disgust and outrage at the story; it went against everything that had been ingrained in him as a child stretching every moral principle to its limit. “What can I do?” he asked.
Isha sighed, “You need only do what you believe to be right. Ruwon, you may have joined another House, but what we taught you of mhnei’sahe cannot have been forgotten. You will know what to do.”
“I’m one man. There are others who ...”
A hiss and a flash and Isha rose to her feet in horror as Ruwon crumpled to the floor.
“You don’t look so smug now, do you Ihhei? How stupid do you think we are?” Merrok stepped over Ruwon as he swung the business end of his weapon up to rest on his shoulder. With his free hand he deactivated the force-field on Isha’s cell. “I warned you what I’d do if you didn’t keep your mouth closed, and from what you’ve just said, it’d be a good thing if you couldn’t talk to anyone.”
To be continued ...
OFF:
Ensign Opaka Jo'el
VIP Bodyguard
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Lieutenant JG Opaka Jo'el
Post Details
| Title | And then there were three ... Part 1 | |
| Mission | Beg, Steal or Borrow | |
| Author(s) | Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Lieutenant JG Opaka Jo'el | |
| Posted | Thu Apr 16, 2009 @ 7:15am | |
| Location | Vrelnec | |
| Timeline | SD8: just after 14:00 |
He would have tried it too, to fight his way through each Isha thought as she shifted back into the transporter room ready to emerge once the Romulans were in the corridor. How odd to think of them that way, she thought, wondering also if they would notice that the door had been forced open much further than she needed to squeeze through.
Isha was two steps through the door when they shouted to her: “Beist! Ssuaj-difv?”
She stopped.
I have lost my mind, Isha thought as she glanced back over her shoulder and turned, as if caught in the act of escape.
All she ever did was act.
There was no place for fear or vulnerability to show in the world through which she moved – there was no place for her; those feelings, which weakened her, she dismissed or pushed aside to be considered later and alone if that time came.
Convincing herself that she was not afraid.
“Why am I here?” Isha asked as they closed the distance between them, trying not to think of the last time she had been left alone with someone hostile. She opened her hands as she backed away a step, “I’m not armed,” she said.
The one who reached her first, the smaller of the two seemed unprepared to take her word for it. Isha did not resist as he lowered his disruptor and searched her.
“Your mother’s name is Vrina,” Isha said, her gaze coming to rest on the other man; he did not reply, though his surprise was apparent.
“Shut up,” the other one said sharply as he jerked her wrists together and secured her hands.
Isha sucked in a breath; So they have me, and this one takes a little too much pleasure in his work, she thought. “That was unnecessary,” she told him coupled with a look that was rather more vicious than she intended.
---
Jo'el sat in the weapons locker, rigging together several disrupter pistols in a resistance-style bomb, should worst come to worst.
"Why am I here?" he heard Isha say through the comm link.
Nice one, Isha, always plead ignorance, I'm sure that goes a long way with a species that holds knowledge and secrecy in such high esteem... He smiled in spite of himself as he added another link to his deadly chain of weaponry. A couple more and Jo'el would be obliged to bring his handiwork back to DS5 and present it to Da'Nal as a trophy, or a replacement military sash. If humans can make belts out of bullet casings, why not?
"Your mother's name is Vrina," came next.
I hope Vrina is an authentic Romulan name and not an insult. Jo'el shook his head at the thought of Romulans settling their differences by playing the dozens. Your mother's ears are so round, she makes Grand Nagus Rom look like the Praetor.
Jo'el straightened up when he realized the severity of the situation. If Isha knew one of those guards, then they may have an ally on this ship.
He continued with his jury-rigging and filed the insult away for future reference. If I live, I'm not backing down to any disrespectful Vulcanoids in strange bars ever again.
---
Her escorts did not speak to one another, let alone her which was not giving her much opportunity to find an accommodation.
For now Isha had stopped up trying to engage the larger one in conversation after his companion had cracked the back of his hand across her cheek. It took all her resolve not to stamp the tall thin heel of her shoe down on the bridge of his foot, even through boots he’d be feeling that for a week – but she held back and lowered her eyes as though she had given in.
Maybe I should have run, Isha thought as they entered the turbolift. SHer jaw throbbed as she tested her lip with the edge of her tongue; the thin trickle of blood had begun to dry but she could still taste it in her mouth.
Dignity was a strength, and now that she had connected the larger man with a little boy of the age of six who had been a companion of her son Hexce, it was the best thing she had to work with.
His name was Ruwon.
---
Strapping the loop of disruptor/bombs over his shoulder, Jo'el stood up and started contemplating his next move. Kira, If get out of this, I'm sending you a bottle of spring wine for all those Resistance stories.
He recalled the ship's schematic Isha showed him briefly. He remembered a maintenance locker or something similar up the way Isha had gone. That would keep him closer, and with a deep breath, Jo'el stuck his head out the door. He yanked back in quickly when he saw an armed soldier performing some sort of diagnostic on a panel in the direction Jo'el was heading.
Jo'el bent down and removed the dak'tagh from the strap on his calf. Now's not the time for feeling guilty about keeping secrets from the captain...
He hit spring-loaded button while holding the side blades in place, slowly easing them into place so as to avoid the bold metallic clang they would normally make. Klingon weapons were effective, no doubt, but they lacked any sort of subtlety.
His weapon ready, Jo'el opened the locker door just enough to get out. He stalked in a crouch to the soldier. It's him or me... and Isha. Jo'el reached out, grabbing the uniformed Romulan by the shoulder. He inserted the dak'tagh into his prey's exposed neck, watching the green viscous fluid drain from the wound. He eased the soldier to the floor and quickly prayed to the Prophets for the repose of the departed's soul.
Say something, Isha Jo'el thought, making his way up the corridor.
---
“Your name is Ruwon,” Isha said as soon as she was sure they were alone.
“I have orders not to speak with you,” was his curt reply. “Merrok will not be gone long.”
Isha touched her fingertips together, with her wrists bound there was little else she could do. She did not need long. “I am your hru’Hfirh,” she reminded Ruwon, “I am requesting that you do speak with me.”
He shifted uncomfortably, conflict apparent in each thought that rippled across his face. “You remember my name,” he said eventually.
Isha nodded. Though he might try and call himself hru’Hfirh, Nniol would not remember such a detail had he ever known it. Isha and her husband had known the name and face of every man, woman and child entitled to the name Illialhlae, from their closest advisors all the way down to the servants.
“You have Vrina’s eyes,” Isha said catching his gaze. Like his mother’s, Ruwon’s deep brown eyes were flecked with bronze that glinted in the light. “You were no taller than my waist the last time I saw you and now you are a Galae Sub-Commander, so quite how that makes you sub-ordinate to your companion Marrok I have yet to understand. How things change! I know that you are not here as part of the House contingent, you no longer carry our name since your marriage, and I doubt my husband’s brother would give charge of me to someone of my husband’s blood. How is your wife, Ruwon?”
“Our second son was born a year ago.”
“Good. Had he lived, Hexce would have been delighted too. What is on your mind, Ruwon?” Isha asked.
“Not everyone on board is happy with the situation. We were underway before we learned that the ship had altered its course. The movement was planned, there were systems that required testing that could only be done underway, and the final fitting could only be done in another shipyard - but we never reached the shipyard above Taish. Some did protest, but once they were silenced the rest of us …”
“Were content to follow orders,” Isha finished the sentence for him; at least he had the decency to look ashamed. “So here we are in a very functional vessel from which my husband’s brother seeks to depose the legitimate heir of his brother. He made that argument I suppose – that I married the family and therefore cannot lead it?”
Ruwon nodded.
“The Senate saw otherwise, particularly as I have already named our daughter heir; you see he will disinherit her also in his own favour. Nniol has proven himself unfit to lead too many times – I have evidence that … perhaps it is better that I not speak of that evidence – if I share it with you your life will be in danger.”
“Evidence of what?”
He wanted to know, with his innate curiosity Isha had known he would. “There are few people who would disagree that my husband Nveid was a great man … what information that was salvaged from Chin’toka suggested that not every ship that was lost fell to the Breen. It took me years of searching to acquire a copy of the relevant communications that had not been redacted or otherwise corrupted – the Federation were very thorough in going through the debris. My husband’s vessel was in trouble before the Breen struck – there was a distress call sent from his ship and the encryption was such that I know it to be legitimate. Nniol destroyed his brother, our son Hexce and countless others. I could prove, if necessary that he had foreknowledge of the Breen attack which he withheld, which makes him not only a traitor to his own family but to the Empire, and at that time to civilisation itself. Nniol wants me to transfer power to him and for it to be seen to be legitimate - I think you’ll understand that I cannot agree to that.”
Every fold of his face expressed his disgust and outrage at the story; it went against everything that had been ingrained in him as a child stretching every moral principle to its limit. “What can I do?” he asked.
Isha sighed, “You need only do what you believe to be right. Ruwon, you may have joined another House, but what we taught you of mhnei’sahe cannot have been forgotten. You will know what to do.”
“I’m one man. There are others who ...”
A hiss and a flash and Isha rose to her feet in horror as Ruwon crumpled to the floor.
“You don’t look so smug now, do you Ihhei? How stupid do you think we are?” Merrok stepped over Ruwon as he swung the business end of his weapon up to rest on his shoulder. With his free hand he deactivated the force-field on Isha’s cell. “I warned you what I’d do if you didn’t keep your mouth closed, and from what you’ve just said, it’d be a good thing if you couldn’t talk to anyone.”
To be continued ...
OFF:
Ensign Opaka Jo'el
VIP Bodyguard
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian