MSNPC Nieran Dwayx - The Greater Good
Travis
((Outside of Unknown Building - Medara, Betazed - Circa ~2376))
((Time Reference: The night before the raid))
Having completed a long, circuitous surveillance detection route, Nieran was confident he wasn’t being followed. Even so, he cast a furtive glance over his right shoulder anyway.
Satisfied that no one was tailing him, he approached the darkened seemingly abandoned building. He couldn’t even remember what it had once been; A fine clothier? A pottery shop? It all felt like so long ago. Before the war, before all the violence, before all of the endless suffering. Nieran longed for the days when he was free to tinker in his workshop and sip hot tea, rather than being forced into building improvised explosives and planning guerrilla raids.
He wore a rather sour expression as he slipped around the side of the structure and pulled open a side door. As the door shut behind him, he paused for a moment in the darkness, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the new conditions.
Voice: You’re late.
The voice hissed, its tone acerbic and grating as always.
Dwayx: I got held up. Big things are in motion.
The heavy metallic clunk sound of a main disconnect switch being thrown could be heard, just before the lights flickered back to life in the room.
A Vorta, flanked on either side by a Jem’Hadar enforcer stood in the center of the room with a sneer on his repugnant face. Each of his escorts bore the red stripe on the shoulder of their armor that identified them as members of the Elite Guard.
oO Overkill, Daylun. Or are you really that scared of me? Oo
Administrator Daylun, the defacto ruler of this region of Occupied Betazed fixed his pale-faced, violet gaze on Nieran.
Daylun: Talk. Now.
The lanky engineer held up a finger, taking a step forward into the light.
Dwayx: Hold on, now. You haven’t held up your end of the bargain from our last rendezvous. ::He narrowed his eyes.:: I told you exactly where Illux and Destro’s positions would be for that ambush, just like you asked and I haven’t gotten any of the replicator credits you promised.
The administrator's eyes narrowed as he stepped close enough that Nieran could smell his oddly fishy-scented breath.
Daylun: Your payment was contingent on the factual completeness of the intelligence you provided. ::He licked his lips in a way that made Nieran’s stomach churn.:: As you failed to mention the group of Starfleet Officers that would be assisting the team– which, I might add, resulted in the death of at least one enforcer.-- you did not earn your precious replicator credits.
Anger welled up inside Nieran as he listened. He’d done his part. None of them had known about Leera’s cousin and his gaggle of Starfleet kids. He wanted his damn replicator credits. He wanted comfort. He wanted the way things used to be.
He took a menacing step toward the Vorta
Dwayx: That’s bullsh-
Before he could even process what had happened, Nieran was stumbling backward, his hand clutching at his face where one of the Elites had landed a positively brutal backhand. He fell backward, landing ungracefully on his rump.
The Vorta clicked his tongue twice.
Daylun: Nieran, Nieran. You misunderstand our relationship. You serve at my pleasure. I could haul you back to the Garrison and have you tortured until you reveal the location of the resistance hideout. Then a quick orbital strike and we’re all done.
He mimed dusting off his hands as if he’d just finished a difficult task.
Daylun: But where’s the fun in that? ::He sneered.:: And such… vulgar displays of power only ever seem to encourage further resistance. This is where you come in. You give me viable, accurate intelligence on the activities of this pitiful-little-band-of-ne’er-do-wells and we will thwart their every move, killing them off one by one until it becomes clear that resistance to rightful Dominion rule means death. For that, you will be rewarded appropriately. ::He paused, offering a sickly sweet smile.:: Do you now understand your unique position?
Slowly, Nieran rose to his feet, still rubbing the spot where the Jem’Hadar had struck him. His eyes flashed to the Enforcers, then to the Vorta as the metallic taste of blood pooled where his teeth had torn the inside of his cheek.
Dwayx: Y-Yes. ::He steadied himself.:: I understand.
The pale-skinned goblin of a man clapped his hands together and smiled again, his too-white teeth gleaming in the dim light.
Daylun: Good. Now, tell me about these big things that are in motion.
There was a moment of hesitation, but only for a second, maybe two.
Then Nieran Dwayx sold his soul.
TBC
=====MSNPC=====
Nieran Dwayx
Civilian Engineer
Betazed Resistance (BZR)
As simmed by:
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LtCmdr. Talos Dakora
First Officer
USS Artemis-A
O238811CD0