JP LtCmdr T'Lea & LtJG John Kendrick - The Gain of Time, Part 5
doggybunbun
((OOC: Last time on Star Trek Juneau Lt. Cmdr. T'Lea - The Gain of Time, Part 4 (google.com) Lieutenant JG John Kendrick - Wanderers (Part 5: Resolutions) (google.com)))
((Phorth Outpost, Continued…))
Raivus: I can make it stop. Come with us, and he will be the first that you conquer.
T’Lea’s jewel blue eyes looked out at the fine Romulan specimen. She dropped her head and panted breathlessly as a carnal craving swelled deep inside. She could so easily devour him and end this multi-layered hell. In fact, that was all she could think about -- having him over and over.
Or killing him over and over. She didn’t know which for sure.
Struggling to her feet, she pulled herself up in an unsteady, but admirable display of will power. She took a step and so did he. He had been promised a position of power if he bonded with Raivus’s daughter. It was an offer he could not refuse, only he hadn’t expected her to be so… well, such a total mess. Perhaps she would clean up nicely later.
The dust on T’Lea’s skin and clothing made her look ghostly, like an old specter struggling to take a step under the heavy chains of her many past sins. She was making her way toward them willingly. It was a sign to Raivus that her daughter was with them.
Raivus: =/\= Dal, three to transport. =/\=
There was a small delay in response, and then the blue shimmer from a transporter beam gripped the three figures and plucked them off the planet.
((The Wanderer, Cargo Hold 4, moments before))
John stared down at the antique he was holding in his right hand: a laser pistol from the mid 23rd century, Starfleet design. According to Captain Hennessy it was worth a small fortune. No doubt Commander Williams would be quite interested in this little piece of history. Unfortunately the man in black wasn’t here with him, just like anyone else from the Juneau.
Why didn’t he contact the Captain when he received T'Lea’s message? Standing here in front of the transporter platform down in Cargo Hold 4, the answer seemed to elude him. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. It was the same feeling he had experienced in the Clanhouse aboard Juneau, during the Award Ceremony after the mission on Aturn VII, when Lieutenant JG Silveira had nicknamed T'Lea as “the bitch" in front of the Romulo-Vulcan herself. Everyone knew Commander T'Lea wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but Vitor’s jab felt like a knife cutting through his flesh. He would've punched the man in the face right then and there if it weren’t for R'Kala who, apparently equally disturbed by Vitor’s remark, cracked her drinking glass in a thousand pieces. Although he couldn’t explain this sudden rush of deep anger and lust for violence, the feeling had disappeared almost as fast as it had arrived. He had almost forgotten the incident had even occurred. Up until now.
Standing behind the transporter control station was Moa, The Wanderer’s first officer and pilot. She still didn’t understand why Hennessy had agreed to help the Starfleet kid rescue his colleague from her nemesis. Sure, without John's help they’d probably never have gotten back their valuable shipment of honey, but the Captain had offered him a fair share of the profit. Unlike his father who wouldn’t even turn down a slice of Latinum, John had kindly refused the offer. As far as Moa was concerned, they were even. Risking their very lives for a woman they didn't even know, in a part of space they've never travelled through, felt like a too high a price to pay for John’s help earlier. But after all these years working for Hennessy, she knew there was no turning back once the old man had made up his mind.
She heard a soft beeping coming from her console, signaling the ship’s transporter sensors had detected lifesigns. Just as she noticed John looking up from the corner of her eye, the Captain’s voice echoed through the ship’s intercom system.
Hennessy: Bridge to Cargo Hold 4, we're in position and ready to drop shields.
This was it, John realized. They had to act fast if they wanted to stay out of weapon’s range from Dal Selta’s ship. He quickly strode over to Moa’s station.
Kendrick: Do you have a lock on T'Lea’s signal?
Moa’s hand ran over the transporter console, checking and double checking the numbers that appeared on her little screen. She managed to translate the data into three blue dots, signaling the location of three individuals only a few feet apart from one another.
Moa: ::looking up from her station:: I've got a lock on three signals, but our systems are over fifty years old and were built to transport cargo. They aren’t sophisticated enough to pick out your colleague’s biosignal.
John turned around and with his left fist clenched, he cursed inwardly. He'd been a fool thinking he could mount a serious rescue operation with an old freighter like The Wanderer. Realizing they were too far out to contact the Juneau for assistance, he turned back around and almost slammed the intercom key on Moa’s station.
Kendrick: This is John. ::looking at a startled Moa:: We've got a lock on three signals. With any luck one of them will be Commander T'Lea. I suggest you send Brikane down here as well. Chances are some of our guests won’t appreciate us scooping them up from the planet’s surface. They might act hostile, so let him bring something to knock them down with if necessary.
Moa frowned, clearly questioning his tactics, but he ignored her as he continued.
Kendrick: Perhaps a hyperspanner… or something…
They could hear Hennessy burst out in laughter over the intercom .
Hennessy: If only you could see Brik’s face now. Hahaha. ::at Kendrick:: Oh, how I've missed this. Son, you're making me feel twenty years young again. Hahaha. Dropping shields ::pause:: now!
Just as John wanted to give her the order, Moa was already punching the key sequence to start up the transporter. As he turned around again, now facing the transporter platform, he quickly aimed his laser pistol at the figures that were slowly materializing onto the platform in a sparkling blue light.
As Raivus materialized she began to question the validity of her reconstructed visual cortex. The brightness and hue of the Dal’s ship were incorrect. It was a stark indication that something was wrong. Raivus glanced to her left – the Romulan man she’d handpicked to mate with her daughter was there, and T’Lea was on the right, suffering quietly to herself. As the ex-Tal Shiar Agent surveyed the rest of the room she quickly understood what had happened. The Dal had abandoned her. Raivus was certain that Selta’s ship had cloaked and was vacating the area to avoid a confrontation.
Once again, her love for her daughter had been Raivus’s demise. It was unfortunate that things had turned out this way. Her thought was mellow and calm, as if she still had everything under her control. Perhaps she did, even though she’d been caught.
Standing proud, Raivus grinned her congratulations, and reached over to remove the weapon from the Romulan’s hand, careful to keep it aimed unthreateningly at the floor.
Raivus: Well played.
John’s first instincts told him to run over to T'Lea and help her. It was as if he could feel her pain. With his left hand he reached for his head, fearing he might be losing it altogether. He tried to focus back on the two unknown Romulans on the transporter pad. One was an older woman, the other was a young man probably around his age - but like with their Vulcan cousins, trying to guess their correct age was an exercise in futility.
As his eyes landed on the Romulan male, he couldn’t help but notice his muscular physique. The man was fit, strong… and sexy. In a flash it was as if he could already feel his hands finding their way across his naked body. A deep carnal longing nested inside of him, abruptly followed by a force as equally strong: jealously. He didn’t understand why, but he already saw himself cutting off the Romulan’s head with the beam of his laser pistol.
He brought up his right hand a little bit higher and aimed directly at the Romulan Male. He felt his finger twitching as it touched the trigger of his pistol. Determined to pull the trigger, Commander T'Lea broke the spell he apparently found himself under.
T’Lea: ...fugitives. Arrest…
She fell to her hands and knees as if her body was rejecting itself. Madness was creeping in, and death would soon follow if the process was not interrupted shortly.
As if he snapped out of a daydream, John suddenly was able to think clearly again. Realizing he had to disarm the Romulan woman quickly before she got the chance to use her weapon, he stepped up onto the transporter platform.
Kendrick: This laser pistol may seem old, but it can still fire a deadly beam if necessary.
John reached out his left hand to take over the woman’s phaser.
Ravius: Of that I have no doubt.
Her tone was regal and proud, without a hint of arrogance. Surrender was her only option for now. But maybe that would change later.
Kendrick: A wise decision.
As he took the phaser, he stepped back down from the transporter platform. Just then the doors to the cargo hold opened up, revealing Brikane holding something that looked like a fire axe.
Moa: ::dryly as she looked at John:: Looks like our executioner has arrived just in time.
When T’Lea looked up from her less than dignified position on the deck, she zeroed in on Kendrick for the first time, and an animal magnetism shot through her synaptic system like ball-lightning, electrifying everything in her body.
He was here? But how…
((FLASHBACK))
((En route to Phorth – Rented Shuttle))
At this point there was enough logic remaining in T’Lea’s malignant mind to formulate a back-up plan. A holo-message had been sent out that would either save her ass, or send it straight to Federation prison.
T’Lea: John, I would say that I regret exposing you to my personal issues, but as it turns out you are one of the few people that I trust. Your ability for fairness and kindness are rare traits that reflect well upon your inner-strength. I believe you are exactly who you need to be, to be where you need to be. You are an excellent example of a Starfleet Security officer. That said, I may require your services.
This message will reach you three days after I have sought to execute the woman that murdered my mother. I am meeting Dal Selta on Phorth to seek justice. You are my backup plan.
I don’t know what you’ll find when you arrive. Someone may be dead. It may be me. Let it be known that I am fully aware of the consequences of my actions and I take full responsibility. If circumstances dictate that you must perform your duties and arrest me, then I urge you to use extreme caution. Depending on how successful I am in my endeavor you may, or may not need to use force. If force is required apply maximum stun from a safe distance. Do not engage in hand to hand combat with me.
If I have failed in my task, then my hope is that you will arrive in time to capture the Dal.
I hope when next we meet it will be agreeable for both of us.
((End FLASHBACK))
((The Wanderer, Cargo Hold 4))
The brutish voice of the Male Romulan as he addressed a dumb question, (to him), snapped T’Lea out of her mind’s eye.
Male Romulan: It’s Pon Farr, you dha'rudh. I am her chosen mate.
T’Lea: ::low:: …no…
Suddenly, with John so close she knew different. The truth that had been hidden by a mask of medication was stripped away. The Male Romulan wasn’t her mate. He was a challenger… to John.
It took a moment for the words ‘Pon Farr' to register, but when it did, John felt like all the pieces of the puzzle suddenly and almost miraculously fell into place. As if he was slingshot back in time, he found himself standing in the brig of DaiMon Kaybay’s vessel, remembering the moment when Commander T’Lea had used her faux nerve pinch on him and doctor Rel to mislead the DaiMon. For a split second it had felt like he was standing in the brig, naked. A strange, almost erotic sensation had come over him. As he turned towards the doctor and T’Lea, they too were standing there naked, just like him. At the time he had assumed it was another strange side effect of the tick bite he has suffered down in the mining complex of Aturn VII. Now he knew better.
Male Romulan: Touch her and I will kill you.
Moa hadn’t met a lot of Vulcans in her life, but having played a holosuite program called Vulcan Love Slave, she had learned enough about the Vulcan mating ritual called Pon Farr to realize the Romulan was potentially dangerous. As she stepped out from behind her transporter station, she motioned at Brikane to move towards John.
Moa: ::in a calming voice:: Calm down now my pointy eared friend. Nobody here is planning on touching her…
She looked down at the Vulcan woman – at least she assumed she was Vulcan – and could see why the Romulan would feel attracted to her. But right now it looked like the woman needed medical attention, so someone was going to have to help her get up on her feet. Whether the Romulan was going to like it or not. Meanwhile Brikane had taken up position next to John.
Moa: Well, let’s just say in an inappropriate manner.
He moved to block anyone from reaching T’Lea. Raivus lifted a slightly amused eyebrow at the scene. In that moment she was more concerned for her daughter than her own capture, but she was always looking for an opportunity to manipulate a situation.
Raivus: ::innocently:: Perhaps you should fight for her.
That was a terrible idea. T’Lea reached up and shoved the male Romulan off the transporter padd and in Kendrick’s direction. Part of her wanted exactly that to happen -- the Vulcan part that was starved for a worthy mate.
TBC in Part 6
Lieutenant Commander T’Lea
First Officer
USS Juneau
Author ID I238301T10
&
Lieutenant JG John Kendrick
Security
USS Juneau, NX-99801
J239801JK3