PNPC Tribune Shiarrael - Uncontrollable Urge

[John Nugra]

OOC: This sim contains violence and references to killing. I have kept it in the PG-13 realm, but it's more towards the top end of the rating. I just wanted to make sure no one was surprised.


(( Shiarrael's Room - Deck 2 - USS Doyle-A ))

:: The 16 hours of sleep was exactly what Shiarrael needed, but it only brought on another problem that she had hoped would not appear for a few more weeks. Her eyes fluttered open and her hands trembled as if going through withdrawal. The compulsion was stronger than usual and it took a few seconds for her to bring it under control. Rolling out of bed that she somehow gotten in to, the Romulan threw on a clean slate gray jumpsuit and made for the door of her room. ::

oO The...the nearest holodeck is on deck 5. Oo

:: Ignoring anyone in the hallway, the young woman walked briskly on the verge of a run until she finally came up to the holodeck doors. She glanced around and wiped the sweat that had appeared on her forehead. ::

Shiarrael: Computer. Load Shiarael-1-1-Alpha.

Computer: Voice passcode.

:: Her mouth went dry and she fought hard to keep down the urge that was forcing itself out. She leaned close to the computer panel and whispered. ::

Shiarrael: ::mutely:: I am death.

:: The computer gave a few moments as the random algorithm began building the scenario. Once it was done the holodeck opened and allowed her in. The Romulan was met with a burst of cold, wet air and the darkness of night. She stood in the cobblestone drive way of a beautiful mansion that had three moons as its back drop. Shiarrael's chest felt as it was going to explode and the panic was becoming unbearable. ::

Shiarrael: ::hoarsly:: Target.

Computer: Deputy Prime Minister Azak Obar of the Brekkian government presently visiting Starfleet Command on a good will tour.

:: The computer voice had taken on a male sound due to her own program supplanting the holodeck's interface. It had taken a bit to get the Romulan code to interface appropriately with the LCARS system. Petty Officer Shedet had helped out due to her experience with Romulan coding. ::

Shiarrael: Instruction.

Computer: Terminate the household.

:: Silence reigned as her cunning eyes scoured the entrance, picking out the Brekkian armed security. They were watching the surroundings, but had not noticed her in the shadows. She crouched down and studied them, their pattern, their eyes, posture. Everything she needed would be right there. ::

oO Brekkian hand disruptor built on Klingon technology. Max accuracy range of 137 meters. Training of guards. Medium. Probably Brekkian military. Oo

Shiarrael: Weapon?

Computer: D'Tagh.

:: The weapon materialized in front of her and she felt disgusted. Not the fact of the weapon of choice, but the fact that her inner voice was excited for close and personal weapons. The panic began to return again as the urge to kill began to swarm her emotions and her thought processes. ::

oO It's okay, Shiarrael. It's okay. This his a holodeck. No one does. You can let go with no one paying the price for what you are. Oo

:: Taking a deep breath and letting it slowly, the Romulan Tribune let go over her restraint and allowed the dark emotions inside to surface. Like a ghost, she sprinted through the shadows that the lights could not keep at bay and the guards did not see it coming. The first took a knee to the face when she leapt at him while the other found her weapon buried in his neck dropping him fast. A quick slash at the recovering enemy removed him from hurting her. Pushing open the double doors, the minister's family who had been enjoying a meal looked up to see her framed in the door way with knife in one hand and disruptor in the other. She saw the panicked looks and whispered to herself.  ::

Shiarrael: No one really gets hurt. They're just photons.

:: Suffice to say, it was extremely easy once the initial two guards in the inner foyer were dispatched and within a few minutes, the house was uninhabited. Shiarrael had returned to the foyer wiping the blade on the bath towel she had picked up. Quickly looking for the exit so she could re-program a shower before leaving the holodeck, Shiarrael froze as she saw the pale face of Brian Davidson standing in the door way. ::

Shiarrael: What...what are you doing here?

Davidson: ::disgusted:: I am sickened. I knew you had a past, but...this is monstrous.

:: Shiarrael looked around at the bodies that lay about and then her face became hard as andorian arctic ice. ::

Shiarrael: Your opinion doesn't matter to me, Lieutenant. You're intruding on my holodeck time.

Davidson: No. You're in mine.

:: He turned to leave, but she blurted it out before she could stop herself. ::

Shiarrael: I have no choice.

:: Davidson stopped and turned back to her with a mixture of anger and curiosity on his face. He fully faced her and folded his hands across his chest. ::

Davidson: What do you mean?

Shiarrael: Long story short. I was trained to be an assassin from the age of six. I've been programmed to kill to the point it's in my very being. When...when I turned on the Tal Delata I wound up having to deal with the programming myself. I am compelled to kill and when there is time between it, it becomes an irresistible urge. So, to keep everyone safe and my sanity, I use the holodeck to let out the urge so that I can function with the rest of the galaxy without having to worry about instinctively killing someone.

:: The Romulan looked down at her hands and then back at him. ::

Shiarrael: The messier the longer before the urge returns.

Davidson: How long?

Shiarrael: A month or two.

Davidson: ::kindly:: You need help, Shiarrael.

:: Striding past him and out the door to head back to her room, she left the icy feeling return to her. ::

Shiarrael: ::Coldly:: No one can help me, Lieutenant. I've found a way to deal with it and you'll have to live with it. Next time, allow me my privacy.

PNPC Tribune Shiarrael
Liaison Officer
Romulan Republic

      &

PNPC Lt. Brian Davidson

Diplomatic Attache

USS Doyle-A

As Simmed By...

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Mister John Nugra

Civilian
USS Doyle-A, NCC-80221-B

Podcast Team Facilitator

Deputy Commandant

Captain's Council Magistrate

Provisional Fleet JAG Officer

Publicity Facilitator (Interim)

V238008N10

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