MSNPC Onzion Reence - A Plan Forms
Jamie LeBlanc
((Orion Marauder Corsair – Private Quarters))
Onzion would be lying if he said he wanted to leave Nysari’s side. But he was also feeling copped up in this ship, and at the same time something in the pit of his stomach gnawed at him, telling him that something was wrong.
Nah, it couldn’t be wrong, could it? No, it was clearly just Aunty Wora’s misgivings.
Reence: =/\= You are fierce and beautiful, my love. I know you will paint the stars in blood. =/\=
Nysari: =/\= It will be a glorious shade of red!
Her voice was so beautiful when it was full of passion. Some day they could retire to a fortress protected by all his creatures, amassing wealth and raising the next generation of Reence to rule the stars. He could see it clearly.
They were close, but they still needed to bring in quite a bit more profit to challenge Aunty Wora for the throne.
Reence: =/\= If you have to send them to me. I will be ready for them. =/\=
Nysari: =/\= They wont know what hit them... be safe my love. =/\=
Reence: =/\= Always. =/\=
And with that he let the transporter whisk him away, carrying naught but his little sack of personal items that he always took with him to the Corsair.
Most of his beloved equipment was below on the planet. And he would much rather tend his experiments and ensure those Klingon he double crossed didn’t come back and try to commandeer their ship again.
He was quite sure two were dead, he watched a mutated Wantaniod beast taking a leg home for dinner, but the other four? Klingons were like cockroaches… hard to kill.
~*~
((Drakos Prime – Reence Laboratory))
Onzion threw himself in his work, waiting for word from Nysari. He wasn’t worried – he told himself he wasn’t worried because he knew she had it well in hand.
He wasn’t worried at all.
Ok, maybe he was a little worried.
Nysari: My love...
He jumped, catching the stylus in his hand and turning with his expression wearing a thin coat of shock.
Reence: My stars! Have you won? What brings you here?
He was not blind, and her expression was not one of elation. And yet he could not imagine a mere impudent merchant vessel besting the Corsair.
Nysari: The 'Corsair' is no more... destroyed by those vile people in orbit. Merchants they claim...
Shock turned to anger. Righteous anger.
Reence: Merchants? Impossible! You are the strongest ship in the sector! Something is terribly wrong…
He watched her process this in real time, the shock fading, her expression changing.
He stepped forward and saw the blood dripping from her hand and moved immediately to tend it. He had so many medical tools in the area. Enough to harm, enough to heal.
Reence: Your hand, my love, let me tend it.
Nysari: Oh... yes...
His movements were swift and gentle. He was most skilled in biology for both good and ill.
Reence: Tell me, what happened?
Nysari: They did not fight like merchants... they had probes and were controlling our mines... something is wrong here, my love... we should leave... set up in a new system, until we know who these people are...
No, certainly not merchants.
Reence: And what happens if we run? What next?
He wasn’t against it. And he surely could see the value in staying alive.
Nysari: Then we can make their lives a living hell... until they beg for it to end... and then some more just for fun!
He finished knitting the broken flesh and tested the reflexes on her fingers quickly before looking upwards and gazing into her eyes. She was so lovely when she was flushed with passion.
Reence: You are glorious when you are angry. But you are also wise. We do need answer. Do you think they could be Klingons here to scour the planet for their missing crew?
Nysari: ?
Reence: If not Klingons who else could they be?
They had been careful not to piss off the Romulans. Then again if it was Romulans there would be an assassin in his bedroom, not a ship in orbit. There were some other crime syndicates who were none too happy to see the Reence take control of this area.
And then there was Starfleet. Vile, horrible, disgusting Starfleet. Vermin, all of them.
Nysari: ?
He hissed at the very thought.
Reence: Then I suggest we try to get some more information – maybe take a few pot shots before we cloak and flee. So much the better if they think you are dead. Maybe we will catch them with their capes off and chest down.
Mildly similar to ‘pants down’ in Human parlance, Orions had worn protective caps for generations, and long hair was a liability in hand to hand combat – too easy to the grabbed.
Nysari: ?
Reence: I can move some of my lab. Some of it is built here. But we do have the backup on Felistron VI. If I take what is mobile we can rebuild.
Nysari: ?
Reence: I will wipe the computers and drop the containment fields right after we lift off, that should flood the area with beasts. If they want to plunder what remains they will have to fight the very tide of nature to get it!
Nysari: ?
~*~
tags/tbc
~*~
MSNPC Onzion Reence
Genetic Researcher
~Julian Beck
E239010ST0