Semidon & Tekmeth - "Relief Comes Alive"
Amanda Nordstrom
((Under the Shield – Dig Site Three - Mnemosyne Dome - Marohu III))
Everyone was on edge, and those officers weren’t going to give anyone an inch. As minutes passed, Tekmeth started breathing hard, and his face shifted, his eyes bugged, and in general, he struggled to get a breath. Of course, none of them showed any concern, and if Semidon did, it was difficult to say. His chitinous visage did not shift and mold to any conformity of emotion like the soft skinned humanoids did, though he did at least speak up to tell them what was happening.
Semidon: It’s his sereth-vahn.
Thasho: Oh, yeah, it was in the report that he needs that stuff.
Woolheater: Could be medicine, could be bait.
Yep. Completely, totally, utterly suspicious. Did he expect any differently? Nope. Not at all.
Greaves: I’ve seen explosives that size before, but something tells me he’s not about to blow us all up, himself included.
Someone at least had some sort of empathic response, though not overly so. At least the man considered the idea that Tekmeth really was struggling and it wasn’t just a ploy.
Nis: This sereth-vahn does what, exactly?
Semidon: It’s a medicine. He needs it from time to time. He’s going to have to inject himself.
The bulkier fellow wasn’t about to give an inch, and his weapon remained at the ready. Semidon found it rather exhausting, really, the whole ‘you’re faking’ thing. So much for Starfleet being the good guy if they treated people that way. The shorter man glanced over at the other who was clad in blue, as if she might have something more to say.
Meanwhile, Tekmeth’s breath became more and more laboured,his skin sucked in at the neck, his eyes seemed like they might pop right out of their sockets and his mouth opened in closed rather like a fish. Meanwhile, the blue shirted man who looked like a female, though Semidon had to admit he had trouble distinguishing between certain humanoids at times, aimed for the crate, but one of the others started to interfere. Woolheater stepped in.
Woolheater: ::a harder edge:: Whoa there! Hey! That’s close enough.
Well, if they were going to help him, they would have to understand something about that cylinder.
Semidon: From what I understand, the cylinder is tied to his biometrics. He’s the only one who can open it.
Just as he suspected, that didn’t help their case at all. The one who had taken charge of everything then turned to the Klingon woman, suspicion laced in his expression, his stance, and even in the words that he finally asked of Thasho.
Greaves: Thasho, you trust these two?
Meanwhile, Semidon and Tekmeth remained under the microscope of the bulky guy’s gaze.
Thasho: I don’t know! I don’t feel like I know these guys all that well. We picked up a bunch of diggers just a few days before we left.
Nis: If you sincerely believe he’s a threat, the Marines can restrain him enough to allow him to open the container, and we can do the injection ourselves.
Thasho displayed uncertainty then, her eyes darting between the female (Semidon couldn’t think of them as anything other than that for he really had no idea, so just went with it), and Tekmeth. Meanwhile, Tekmeth’s body began to tremble and shake. Boy, they sure were taking their sweet time.
Greaves: Give him the medicine. Woolheater, keep your rifle on him in case he gets froggy or it turns out to be a weapon.
Woolheater: Aye, Sir.
That one was ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Semidon met Woolheater’s gaze, and his head tilted to one side, then to the other while the man treated them like terrorists.
Woolheater: Nice and easy. No sudden moves.
Semidon: Yes, yes, we know.
Tekmeth didn’t say a word. He couldn’t say a word. His gasps game, barely heard due to the small amount of air he managed to suck in and out. Meanwhile, the other woman stared at his eyes with a light, as if that might do something. Yet, not one of them made an effort to give the man the cylinder until he’d been struggling for several minutes. Instead, they talked and considered and glared at them. Finally, however, it was passed over to him. Tekmeth almost dropped it, his hands were shaking so bad, then turned it, pressed his thumb against a portion on the side. The cylinder opened and a needle popped out - one that he jabbed into his other arm, though not without shaking hands.
Nis: How frequent are attacks of this sort?
Semidon: How should I know? He had one last week. I know he gets them often enough to need the medicine. Medicine, which I might add, you have delayed in giving him and his condition is only getting worse, and yet you stand there, watching him struggle.
By that time, Semidon was fed up. He’d heard about Starfleet. While not all of the Gamma Quadrant had, enough peoples knew of them thanks to that stupid war the Dominion Started. Most hailed them as heroes once the Changelings were defeated, because it meant their own worlds were no longer forced under their rule. Semidon had never met Starfleet before, but thus far, they hadn’t made a good impression. They were all talk, and yet they stood there and stared as someone had a medical episode, trying to decide if he was a threat, when obviously he couldn’t breathe. So much for being heroes.
Woolheater: Sounds like you need a new line of work, friend.
Greaves: I concur.
Was that all they could say? Semidon fell into a sullen silence while Tekmeth inhaled deeply, trying to recover from the prolonged episode.
Nis: Response
Greaves: I’m not sur-
Suddenly, metal and stone clanged together, and Semidon turned toward the sound. Even Tekmeth, half bent over and trying to control his breathing, turned his eyes in the direction. Another figure appeared, but this one was Dosi, as indicated by the red and white paint all over his face. Semidon said something, but it wasn’t loud enough for the universal translator to catch and translate. Instead, the clicking voice of his native tongue barely registered, though one might guess it was of surprise. Tekmeth, for his part, focused on actually breathing. It was good to breathe again.
Greaves/Nis: Response
Someone staggered into sight. He had fallen against the crate, but as the others watched, he collapsed onto the ground, his hand covered in blood. Semidon glanced at Tekmeth who straightened up, still not quite back to normal, but far better than he had been a moment before.
Woolheater: ::into his earpiece mic:: =/\=Cpl. Jones, take a lance and check that contact. Keep it tight.=/\=
Meanwhile, Woolheater directed someone else to deal with a, from Semidon’s and Tekmeth’s position, looked to be a dying man.
Cpl Jones: Aye, sir.
Two others joined him, their rifles at the ready as they hurried across and approached. Both Semidon and Tekmeth glanced at each other again, but they didn’t utter a word or even dare to move.
Greaves/Nis: Response
Woolheater (to Greaves): Sector covered, sir. Contact is being checked.
Covered, as in, he still had his rifle up and ready to shoot either of them should they look at him funny. Semidon’s eyes turned a pale, pale, pale pink for a moment and Tekmeth nodded, as if in agreement with something, though neither said a word.
Greaves/Nis: Response
A minute later, the voice came through the com, updating the others as to the status of the fallen person. Considering they could all see them standing there, Semidon wondered at the necessity of it, but nope, he wasn’t going to comment. Not a single word. Nope.
Cpl. Jones: =/\= Contact secure. One male, humanoid. Wounded, phaser burn across the ribs. Still breathing, but he’s painted up in white and red war paint. Doesn’t look like one of the diggers.=/\=
Then, something happened. Both Semidon and Tekmeth saw it. While the men in green dealt with the Dosi, their eyes shifted to the crate. From within, a blue light pulsed, while a rumble laced with a hiss echoed through the room. Tekmeth opened his mouth as if to say something, the first word he would utter since his attack, but not a sound did he make when….
They weren’t there any longer. No, they were there, but not there, as in, not in their previous position. Around them, the chamber shifted and moved, and Tekmeth got dizzy from it. Light flickered and danced, throwing shadows over strange carvings that loomed over them from the dome above them . Dust filled the air, and figures that had once been frozen for who knew how long, etched in stone, slid in motion, suddenly given life.
The relief had been carved there for centuries, perhaps even a millenia. All the figures, carved and fashioned in the rock as the stony relief now played in front of them like a holomovie. Semidon saw a soldier, his sword raised, while Tekmeth’s gaze went to a mother and child, then slid over to find two lovers moving into an embrace, while in between, a crowd lifted their faces to the sky. More children danced off to the side, their silent mouths opened in silent laughter.
Animals of an unknown kind danced in the twilight of a rocky sunset, guards escorted a figure to some sort of death. A woman, old and bent, wept at the grave of a loved one. No words were uttered, no sound escaped their mouths, but the images played over and over again, their eyes moving, yet not seeing, their lips parted, yet not speaking, until suddenly, that motion shifted, and all those visages turned their attention. No longer did the crowd stare at the sky. No longer did the children laugh and play. No longer did the soldier prepare to strike. No longer did the old woman weep. Instead, it all ceased so they could all stare down at the people who had suddenly invaded their sacred space. Only did the circular motion, the relief turning around and around the cavern, remain steady.
In the crate, that artifact continued to glow, its light intensifying, and as it did so, something emerged. Rock rumbled more loudly, and in the middle of the room, a pedestal rose, upon which sat an orb. It wasn’t a large thing, for it was small enough for Semidon or Tekmeth to take in their hands, even if a little too big to wrap them completely around it, but it shone brightly, pulsing with a pure light.
Semidon: By Hthmal!
Tekmeth: What the…
Greaves/Nis/Woolheater: Response
Semidon: We don’t have any idea!
If they were archaeologists, they were not very good ones - or perhaps they were simply the diggers that the Klingon had claimed. They didn’t need any special knowledge, just hands that knew how to work. Both of them stared at the relief, then at the sphere, and back again. Their eyes worked their way between them, back and forth, as if trying to make sense of it all.
Greaves/Nis/Woolheater: Response
Semidon: I’m not sure we should touch it, much less move it.
Tekmeth nodded in agreement. What they witnessed was far more than either of them had bargained for.
Greaves/Nis/Woolheater: Response
-- Semidon Paradan & Tekmeth Yaderan Dig Site 3 M239008AD0