Lieutenant JG Greywin Fergus: Possible Asylum Victim
Zeph
Greywin had been aboard a few starships in his time, but this was the first Sagan sickbay he’d been in. The reading he’d done on the sector was very thorough, although for some reason he couldn’t recall reading the section on his latest patient -- a species known as Zet. Their physiology was very different to any lifeform he encountered previously, so as such he was idly scrolling through a PADD full of information on them as he worked on stabilizing the lone survivor from the strange craft they’d brought in.
Rouiancet: What's your assessment, Doctor Fergus?
His knowledge of their musculature structure and terminology was still limited, but from what he’d found so far, they did appear to resemble a chitinous creature with an exoskeleton. It was also still a bit weird to hear himself called “Doctor Fergus.” Still, the question awaited.
Fergus: The patient is stable, though still critical. We’ll have a better idea once we repair the exoskeleton.
His focus was quickly returned to his task, and he was very quiet as he worked. With the osteoregenerator in one hand, he started to repair the obvious cracks in the chitinous plating of the exoskeleton. He hoped that this Zet would make a full recovery.
Ehths: (voice low, strained) So many phasers… for one broken man. Does Starfleet always welcome its guests this way?
Forsyth: It's a precaution from the last time we encountered the Zet.
The young doctor didn’t know one way or the other if that was true, so didn’t challenge. He continued working through the conversation, doing his best to stabilize his patient.
Rouiancet: Our medical personnel are treating your injuries. (a nod to Fergus)
Fergus: I’m Doctor Fergus, a medical officer.
Rouiancet: I am Lia Rouiancet, captain of this vessel. Who are you?
Ehths: I am… Ehths. I served King Toal’Dius. Once. Before he… changed. (a pause, eyes lowering) He sent me to find you. And perhaps, if fortune smiles, to warn you.
The amount of security, Fergus thought, perhaps seemed excessive. Then again, he didn’t know what an appropriate amount of security was for such a meeting.
Rouiancet: I was at the court of Toal'Dius. I was a prisoner there, too. But I was also in command of the ship from which he begged asylum, and I was aboard when he died. (beat) I'll hear what you have to say.
Greywin exhaled slowly as he finished patching up the last of the exoskeleton and took another scan with the tricorder to check for internal damage. There was some, easily repairable with the dermal regenerator. He switched tools and worked quietly, not wanting to interrupt the questions.
Forsyth: Okay, why should we believe you?
Ehths: (with a rough exhale, eyes half-closing) If you value your ship… and your lives… you’ll listen. He isn’t the man he once was. (a beat, softer) And he will not stop.
Rouiancet: He (beat; considering) sent you?
The thought that this might be an attack on the ship specifically rather than the captain hadn’t occurred to him, and it seemed like a harmless enough question in the grand scheme of things.
Fergus: Is he planning to blow us up, then?
Forsyth: And what's in it for you, what's your stake in this?
Ehths: (his gaze flickered down, voice soft) What stake does a beaten dog have, save to be left in peace? (a pause, then more firmly) I want only to be… away. Away from him, away from his enemies. A quiet world, a place where no one knows my name. I know I will never go home. His shadow clings to me too closely for that.
Forsyth: S-Sorry, ma’am….
Rouiancet: (shaking her head) Not at all. We need to know. You're here to do his bidding, Ehths, but (beat) you've also clearly suffered.
She indicated the injuries he'd sustained, and with another glance at the biobed monitors, she decided that she'd play a hunch based on his next response.
The fact that the Zet was talking coherently without the aid of pain killers was a good sign. Greywin’s own knowledge of the species was limited to what he read, but at the same time he was almost afraid to ask if Ehths would like any, afraid that it might kill him.
Ehths: He sent me, yes. ::bitter laugh that turns into a cough:: But not as you think. He sent me to soften you, to make you doubt yourselves. His plan is simple. Too simple. He has allies, men and ships who still whisper his name with fear. He means to strike when you are weakest. ::he looked down again, quieter:: He would see the Butler as his prize… and you as nothing but trophies.
Forsyth: Responses
Rouiancet: I see. (beat) So, he did this to you? Toal'Dius, or his people?
Ehths: ::a long silence before answering:: His hand, mostly. The rest… his wrath spilled over, as it always does. My family stood too near the fire. They are ash now. Perhaps not by his blade, but by his enemies, his rivals, all hunting him… and me beside him. I have nothing left but the memory of serving someone who no longer exists.
Forsyth: Response
The Zet’s gaze seemed focused on the force field, but at least his pulse was strong and stable now. The breathing was easier, though the ribs were bruised.
Forsyth/Rouiancet: Responses
Ehths: ::a tired shrug, voice thin:: Believe me or don’t. I have set the truth at your feet. Whether you drink from it or let it spill into the dust… that choice is yours, not mine.
The Zet’s shoulders sagged slightly, and Greywin ran another tricorder scan. Everything was mending at this point, the exoskeleton patched and the skin still a bit tender, but no longer full of holes. The scan didn’t reveal any additional complications.
Forsyth/Rouiancet: Responses
Fergus: Your ribs are still reading as bruised, and they’ll heal on their own.
Ehths: You’ve pulled me from the wreck and set my bones to mending. For that, I have spoken plainly. But every hunter knows, the beast that gives up all its secrets is the beast that is skinned. Tell me, Starfleet, how do I know I will not be flayed once my usefulness is gone?
A rasp edged his words, though there wasn’t anything else Greywin could say that would help.
Forsyth/Rouiancet: Responses
Ehths: I would give you what I know - names, numbers, the shapes of the ships that follow him. But give me a reason. A pledge. Else I am nothing more than carrion dressed in words, waiting for you to pick the bones.
After a long moment, he recalled something from one of his diplomacy classes about this being a non-traditional situation, then looked to the captain.
Fergus: What about the possibility of political asylum?
Ehths / Forsyth / Rouiancet: Responses
Fergus: In that case, might I suggest we defer any further questions while our patient recuperates? We can check in on him later. (to Ehths) If you’re amicable to us doing so.