Ensign T’Fearne - Walking the Knife Edge
teayl.thorn
T’Fearne::: lying through her teeth:: I can see that the will of the Kosst Amojan is more powerful. After all, it has been clear to you from the start that we are fake priestesses! We are aliens! Inhabiting the bodies of Bajorans. The weak puppets of WEAK. PROPHETS.
She winced slightly, the tension building in her chest. She was pretty sure she had just broken the 1Temporal Prime Directive, or at least cracked it a bit. The part about having no interaction or association with the world or timeline to avoid contamination and alteration. Admissions of being an alien are probably included.
oO Hopefully they think I'm crazy at the end of all this. Oo
The alley was eerily quiet after her proclamation. T’Fearne felt the weight of the cultists focus on her, their breaths held in anticipation.
Lenik: These are all words, the worthless power of the federation. How can you prove your allegiance to us, to our cause?
T’Fearne: I will prove my verity. I surrender to you, loyal followers of the true prophets. Let me join you. Let me call others to your side with my testimony. The false priestess, the voice of the prophets, rallying to you. Our ranks will swell with others who have seen the power of Kosst Amojan.
She let the words hang in the air, hoping the cultists would fall for the ruse. She had no illusions about what this meant—if she succeeded in distracting them for long enough for her crewmates to reunite and perhaps figure out a way to return to their time, she would likely never return to the 25th century, but on the pro side of consequences of her actions, she wouldn’t have to worry about charges like insubordination, dereliction of duty or desertion.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She knelt in the rubble, her blood-soaked jacket draped over her shoulders, and her hands meekly tucked into the colourfully embroidered sleeves. She closed her eyes.
Beneath the long sleeves, her hands tightened on the rough wooden akai sticks she had been carrying, strapped to her forearms since they arrived.
oO Come closer, little Bajoran. Just a bit closer. Oo
She watched the researcher through her eyelashes and breathed deeply. Focus honed on the cultists' moments and distances from her. She realised belatedly that Lenik was still speaking to her.
Lenik:...my ranks, Vrozeks ranks. Starfleet has nothing to do with this. You have nothing to do with this. You are an underling. That’s all you’ll ever be.
The Bajoran woman scoffed, pacing like a caged animal. She rambled about “ranks” and “Starfleet”.
oO How badly has she injured the timeline with her actions here? Oo
She was also clearly deranged, but possibly T’Fearnes ruse had caught her interest if she was willing to consider her an “underling”. The young ensign had thrown herself into this situation without much thought, and now that she had their attention, she considered what was the best tactic.
T’Fearne::: Looking up at Lenik:: Being an underling to the Kosst Amojan would be a promotion.
The words seemed to spark something in Lenik. The woman's eyes widened, and a feverish excitement flickered in them. She waved her cultists forward, sending them in different directions, no doubt following Alieth and Xan’s trail. Only a few guards remained behind with them. T’Fearne felt her hopes rise.
Lenik: So… ::inspects her nails, tearing at a hangnail:: tell me all that you know.
T’Fearne::: Licking dry lips:: Not much. As you can probably tell, I am the lowest-ranking member of the officers. They don’t trust me with much. The other three are very intelligent, I’m just here to fetch and carry for them.
Lenik: Pitiful, just as I expected.
Two guards seized her roughly, pulling her to her feet. Lenik gestured for her to follow as they entered a sturdy building, its foundation unshaken despite the tremors.
One red-robed disciple followed them into the room, lighting two lanterns hanging from the ceiling, casting a flickering glow that dimly lit the area. The room was filled with cylindrical wooden tables, some destroyed by recent fire, others standing worn but functional. A bar in the corner emitted the faint scent of stale food, chemicals, and charred wood. The air was hazy, but there was less smoke than in the alley outside.
Lenik turned to T’Fearne and gestured for her to take a seat.
Lenik: Please.. ::Gesturing to the chair::
T’Fearne hesitated, not wanting to sit here while the rest of the sect hunted down Alieth and Xan without her.
T’Fearne: Perhaps we should go after…
Lenik: ::shouting:: SIT DOWN!
She made to sit but wasn’t quick enough as the red-robed guard clamped a hand on her shoulder and roughly pushed her into the rickety hand-carved furniture.
T’Fearne: As you wish.
Lenik: Better.
The red-robed figure stayed near the door, watching her closely, while Lenik made her way to the bar, pouring two glasses of greenish liquid.
Lenik: As I’ve interpreted that your intent to join our cause, may be genuine. You’ve yet to try and kill one of us, you’ve been passive, pathetic. Either out of cowardice, lack of will or merely wanting to be on the winning side. But your knowledge of what we do is just awful, wouldn’t you agree?
T’Fearne::: earnestly:: Yes, that’s right. I’m a terrible coward, barely any will of my own at all, but at least I know what side my hasperatt is buttered. Any more knowledge about what our plan is that you wanted to enlighten…
Lenik: ::Cutting T’Fearne off:: - Wouldn’t you agree?
In a sudden, violent motion, Lenik grabbed a bottle and hurled it against the wall. It shattered in a burst of untempered glass, the sharp noise ringing in the air.
T’Fearne winced but nodded slowly, her expression still passive, her mind racing.
oO I was just agreeing to everything. Where did the pah-wraiths find this one? Oo
Lenik: You are an underling, a nobody. With my help you could be a someone. Now let me explain our perspective.
T’Fearne::: curiously:: Please do.
Lenik moved to sit with her feet up on the table and her chair precariously teetered on two legs. T’Fearne took the offered drink, eyeing the woman carefully. In her mind's eye, she ran the scenario of kicking the chair out from under her and braining the single guard in the room with the baton up her sleeve, but the red-robed figure was standing behind her out of sight, and she was sure that it would make a lot of noise. There was too much risk, too many unknowns.
For now, she would bide her time, gather what intel she could and pretend to take a sip of her drink.
Lenik: For as long as the current generation of Bajorans can remember, we have been oppressed. By the Cardassians, the Federation, the dominion. Each of them has taken something from us, typically in the form of our history. Our artefacts most notably. Even the damn emissary of the stupid prophets smashed one of our most artefacts to pieces, rather than hand it over to the radiant Kai Winn.
T'Fearne: But wasn’t Kai Winn the one who helped the Emmisary defeat the Pagh-wraiths in the end?
One look at Lenik made her drop the subject.
T'Fearne::: Quickly:: it’s probably lies, spread by the false prophets.
Lenik continued, her voice filled with righteous passion.
Lenik: The Pah-wraiths offer another path. For all that Bajor has had to suffer through the prophets have laid by and done nothing. The Pah-wraiths offer the help that Bajor desperately needs to become a power in the quadrant. But more importantly, we would get the ability to interpret our own history, reach for our own destiny. Not rely on the handouts of worlds that pity us. We could be strong, that’s all we want. To make Bajor strong again.
T’Fearne felt a cold chill crawl up her spine at the fervour in Lenik’s voice. She knew the woman couldn’t know the true weight of her words, the echoes they carried. She lifted her glass in a slow toast, her voice almost steady.
T'Fearne::: jaw tight:: Bajor Strong!
oO Ronin Strong! Oo
Lenik: Response
T'Fearne::: pausing to sip:: So, what's next? What actions need to be taken here to achieve our goal?
Lenik: Response
T'Fearne: Apologies if I’ve overstepped. It’s not that I don't know my place. It’s just that if I am more informed, then I can contribute more meaningfully.
Lenik: Response
The Security officer didn’t like the sound of that.
T'Fearne::: Swallowing dryly:: I am here to serve the Pah-wraiths. I just thought this was your plan… but if Xan is the one who’s really in charge, I understand if you don’t know all the details.
Lenik: Response
[Tag, You’re It! / TBC]
((OOC: Princess Bride quote hiding in this one.))
((OOC: 1One-Fifty-seven: The Temporal Prime Directive))
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14