[JP] Marshall & Sienelis - In Stillness, Regret (Part II)
Quinn Reynolds
((Basement, Dungeon Rock, Hai Tac Outpost))
::Across the small corridor, Bear laid down on the bed and tucked his arms behind his head on top of a pillow that had more lumps in it than the moon had craters, his body giving very little reluctance to the movement. The last time he'd been wrapped in bed was a different experience altogether, deep dark eyes looking back at him with viridity, a soft hand on his chest, a gentle voice in his ear. His heart gripped and his teeth clenched so hard they slipped and ground against one another.
::An unfamiliar ceiling stared back at him, pipework and punched lines like the seams of old starships, or even older submarines. With no view to the outside, the underground narrow corridors and bunk rooms felt a little like coffins, and as cold as a morgue. He didn't want to sleep; he wanted to move, try to dampen the persistent ache of bleeding ichor, destroy what wormed inside and didn't belong. There was a bar upstairs. Maybe someone he could find himself in for a while.
::Pulling boots back on soundlessly, Bear drew his shirt over his head and hung in the doorway, listening to the quiet, to the hum of the artificial life support, and to the stifled sobs of the Romulan one room over.::
O. Marshall: I, err… ::He cleared his throat, lifting his voice a little.:: I'll be upstairs, see what conversations I can eavesdrop on. ::Pausing for a second, he added,:: Will you be alright?
::She grimaced through her tears, peeking above her arms to check he wasn't in her doorway, looking in. There was no sign of the blond, and she was relieved for that small amount of privacy, such as it was. Her voice was thick as she answered, muffled by arms and a stuffed nose.::
Sienelis: Are you always this bad at doing what you're told?
O. Marshall: I'd say no, but the evidence speaks to the contrary. ::Scratching the back of his neck, concern pulled at his features.:: There's a bathroom next door, if you want to shower or… I don't know, splash your face or something. ::He exhaled through his nose, thoroughly useless at comfort.:: I won't be long.
Sienelis: I'll be here.
::Bear nodded, not that she could see him, but verbal confirmation didn't sound like something that would get him very far. In a strange attempt to try and release the radiating concern for the Romulan, he patted the doorframe to her section of their small hideaway and exhaled. Drawn by the prospect of dissipating the revolving thoughts in his head and heart, at least for a short while, he headed back through the dark and dismal corridor toward the stairwell at the far end.::
((Some time later...))
::Significantly less than a skinful later, but more than a few shots of the potent frothy vodka — if it was that, at all — Bear trudged down into the depths of the hole, boots echoing on the crisp metal deck, shoulders slouched and low. The drink, the conversations, and the sliver of a break hadn't helped him feel any less awful, or shade his guilt any lighter. Whatever diminished state of mind he'd wanted to cultivate remained staunchly out of reach, no matter how hard he hit the bottle.
::Coming up to the doorway, he paused for a moment, stuck in the space between his own room and Valesha's, regret wrapping around him like a solid blanket of remorse and contrition, likely made worse by the coursing spirits. Out of everything he'd done in the years preceding, of the losses he'd endured, he'd never purposely inflicted it on someone else.::
O. Marshall: ::Quietly,:: Valesha? You awake?
::There wasn't an answer from her room, just the soft rustle of fabric and the faintest of muffled thumps. Her turning over in bed, perhaps. Normally, he wouldn't want to try and wake her up, but the curdled feeling of what had happened in the brig needed to be apologised for, and he needed to do it while he had the Dutch courage in his bones.
::Even if that meant waking the devil herself.::
O. Marshall: Valesha, we need to—
::He poked his head around the doorway and his heart leaped out of him at the sight. Three Romulans in the room; two dressed in black, one — and the only one he was concerned about — pinned against the bed she'd slept in, a green-tinted hand over her mouth. Liquored brain, maybe, but Bear's reflexes kicked in as his hand flew for the phaser beside his ribs, only to have a disruptor pistol pointed in his face.::
::Valesha shook her head, her hand creeping toward the silver case that Zuccaro had given her. Her fingers sliding around the handle, she looked at him and raised her eyebrows in question. His haze of drink twinged mind couldn't quite piece together what she wanted him to do, so he did what Bear did, and charged at the Romulan in front of him, forcing the man into the back wall with a dull thunk, disrupter clattering to the floor.
::Not what she had in mind at all, but it sufficed. The Romulan pinning her down was distracted for just long enough, and she swung the metal case up and into his face, making contact with a distinct and unpleasant crunch. He stumbled backward, fumbling for the holstered disruptor at his hip while Valesha lunged toward him.
::Hunkered in a headlock, the Romulan sent a driving punch into Bear's side, impacting a floating rib with a dull crack, prompting a strangled groan from Bear's throat to escape. Grasping at the Romulan's head, Bear's knee made swift and decisive contact with his face, a splurge of green blood vigorously spurting outwards from his nose. The Romulan staggered back, hand on his face, glaring at Bear until his amber eyes switched from the human to Valesha. The distraction was all he needed to pull out the phaser from his holster and aim it squarely at the Romulan's green bloodied face.
::His black-clad companion was in much the same situation, pinned against the wall, his own disruptor rammed up against his ribs. The man's arm hung down by his side, elbow bent at an unnatural angle, face pale with pain.::
Sienelis: Vah-udt? Ihir-difv hwi?1
::Her Romulan didn't answer, instead bearing his emerald-stained teeth in a grimace of a smile. Though she wasn't surprised, Valesha nonetheless scowled at him, her next words escaping in a furious hiss. She didn't want to admit it, but she was thoroughly rattled by the turn of events, and she wanted answers.::
Sienelis: Dhroi ahefvi!2
O. Marshall: I don't think they're here to talk.
::His Romulan, however, darted his glance back and forth between the blond in front of him and Valesha over his shoulder. His eyes lingered a little too long on her before Bear pulled him, jabbing the phaser into his chest.::
O. Marshall: Don't look at her, look at me. Answer her question.
::He had absolutely no idea what she'd asked, and if it wasn't for the upward inflection at the end, he wouldn't have been able to guess either. Glaring at the man in front of her, Valesha continued pressing for some scrap of information.::
Sienelis: Narihu-difv hwio?3
Terrh: Terrh.
::Valesha shook her head, jaw clenched, while the Romulan in front of her just kept smiling. He'd answered the question, yes, but in its barest, most minimal form. They both knew fine well it wasn't the answer she'd been fishing for, and that those were unlikely to be forthcoming.::
TBC...
1 Who are you? What is your purpose?
2 Answer me!
3 What is your name?
--
Orson Marshall
Fugitive
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&
Fugitive
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