Semidon & Tekmeth - "Breathing Shouldn't Be Optional"
Amanda Nordstrom
OOC: Just a note: Semidon and Tekmeth are not general NPCs. ;-)
IC:
((A tent – Dig Site Three - Marohu III))
Tekmeth and Semidon had been trying to secure an artifact - a glowing artifact. An active artifact. In fact, it was so active that when Semidon touched it, it burned his fingers. Fortunately for him, his response was to pull away quickly so the damage was minimal, but his fingers still smarted as a Starfleet officer formed them out of the tent, pushed them around, and patted them down. Of course, the marine didn’t find anything except Tekmeth’s sereth-vahn. That…was a problem.
Greaves: Seems the pair are a bit tight-lipped about it all, too.
Honestly, they hadn’t really given them much of a chance to answer anything! They ask a question, and then people force them to turn around, get patted down, and who can answer questions with a weapon pointed at them?
Tekmeth: Can you please lower your weapon?
Semidon: Yes. We have been fully cooperative.
The Klingon woman paced, her anger rising and the two glanced over at her, their expressions uncertain. That weapon didn’t lower at all.
Nis: Response
Greaves: What I want to know is why, after a casualty producing attack in which you all fought for your lives and a long overland and underground movement carrying said casualties, are the two of you hiding in a tent fighting over a hot glowing green artifact. Something inclined you to do so, despite what should be obviously better judgment.
As the man’s words continued out of his mouth, they increased in volume. Louder, and louder he got, until by the end, the man’s voice grew so loud that it echoed off the walls and both men winced. It didn’t help when Thasho added to the cacophony.
Thasho: ANSWER HIM!
Tekmeth: We’re just trying to secure the artifact!
The words that came from the man were staccato, as if he struggled to move his mouth in a way they could easily be fashioned. Semidion glanced over at him, his hard shelled face did not convey emotions like those with softer tissue upon theirs. Still, his body hunched over and leaned a little toward the other, as if in concern.
Woolheater: ::adjusted his stance, watching the two men sweat:: Easiest way to get this rifle lowered is to start telling the truth.
Tekmeth: We are!
The man croaked and swallowed hard, his eyes wide.
Tekmeth: I need my…
He trailed off, the words catching in his throat, but his eyes darted to the crate that Woolheater had used a moment before.
Nis: Response
Greaves/Nis/Thasho: Response
Semidon: It’s his sereth-vahn. For some reason, the universe translator didn’t know what that word was, but the Paradan inclined his mollusky head in the direction of the crate in which the cylinder currently lay thanks to Woolheater placing it there.
Greaves/Nis/Thasho/Woolheater: Response
Semidon: It’s a medicine. He needs it from time to time. He’s going to have to inject himself.
Again, the Paradan noted the crate. For his part, Tekmeth didn’t try to speak again, evidently unable to. His breaths, by that time, started coming harder, more laboured the hollow of his neck sucked in with each attempt to inhale. His eyes darted to the crate, his eyes wide, and his expression desperate.
The Paradan tilted his head to one side, then the other, then glanced at Tekmeth. The man stopped speaking, his throat heaved in, then out, the tendons of his neck thrusting out with every inhalation, and his eyes bugging more and more wildly with every breath, and his body began to tremble.
Semidon: From what I understand, the cylinder is tied to his biometrics. He’s the only one who can open it.
Again, the head tilted side to side, a far more emotive gesture than his face would allow.
Greaves/Nis/Thasho/Woolheater: Response
-- Semidon Paradan & Tekmeth Yaderan Dig Site 3 M239008AD0