Ensign T’Fearne - Out of the Fire…
teayl.thorn
((The Carpenter’s Rest — Destroyed Bar, B’Hala, Kendra Province, Bajor))
T'Fearne: I am here to serve the true Prophets. :: Voice steady, though her thoughts were anything but.:: I just thought this was your plan… but if Xan is the one who’s truly in charge, I understand if you don’t know all the details.
Lenik’s chair crashed backward as she surged to her feet, her movement so sudden and violent it took T’Fearne a moment to process what had happened. With a raw, primal scream, Lenik grabbed the old wooden table and, with a single twist of her arm, sent it sailing across the room. Something small and dark clutched in her other hand.
T’Fearne flinched back hard, the tension in her body coiling tighter as her drink sloshed in her hand. She stared at the otherworldly display of strength.
Lenik: ::screaming:: NOT ALL OF THE DETAILS! NOT ALL OF THE DETAILS?! XAN AND I WORK ON THE BASIS THAT BUILDING A BRIGHTER AND BETTER BAJOR IS OF PARAMOUNT IMPORTANCE, ON YOUR FEDERATION DATABASE HE MAY BE MY SUPERIOR, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? THAT’S A LOAD OF CRAP! WE BOTH FOLLOW THE PAH-WRAITHS. IN THAT SENSE WE ARE EQUALS!!!!
Lenik’s voice cracked with barely contained rage.
T'Fearne::: wide-eyed pause:: I have never seen any indication that Xan is the leader. From my perspective, it seems like you are the one wielding all the power here.
The conversation had become dangerous. It was clear to her that Lenik was exposing events and inciting the ancient Bajoran people into taking actions in a way that could be construed as interfering with 1General Order One and 2One-Fifty-seven: the Temporal Prime Directive.
The door burst open, snapping T’Fearne’s attention away from the deranged Bajoran. Two guards entered, their faces hard and unreadable, but their eyes widened slightly at the sight of the wrecked room. The third, already in the bar, looked grim.
Lenik: ::point at guards:: What in the name of sanity are you both doing in here?
Guard 1: We heard a commotion Miss Lenik
Guard 2: ‘aving trouble with hahthgosgh?
As Lenik was momentarily distracted, T’Fearne frantically scanned the old bar. Her eyes caught sight of something—The Carpenter’s Rest—the name beautifully hand-etched into the wood above the deserted bar. The name made her think of her CO, and her spine straightened.
She sensed the well was dry here—or poisoned. No more intelligence would be forthcoming from Lenik. She was too deranged for the young security officer's meagre counter-interrogation tactics. If she got the opportunity, it was time to cut her losses and leave.
oO What would Carpenter do in this situation? Oo
T’Fearne glanced down at the mostly full glass in her hand. The vibrant green liquid reminded her of the drink Kirsty had shared with her and Valo on DS9, that fiery jar of Nebraskan White Lightning.
The sound of Lenik’s voice broke through her thoughts.
Lenik: Both of you get your act together! We have a mission here. Go away now, I’ll meet you both at the spire. I believe I have the sacrifice we need to release Kosst Amojan from the ducky.
T’Fearnes ears, short and pointless, still perked up. If nothing else came from this, then at least she knew exactly where she stood with Lenik.
oO Obviously, I’m the sacrifice. Oo
But then her eyes snapped to the small dark object she had noticed earlier clutched in Lenik’s hand. It was vaguely duck-shaped in the flickering light of the low-hanging lantern.
The two guards left the room and took off into the burning city. She waited a moment until she was sure that only one guard was left and then raised her glass in a gesture of a toast.
T’Fearne: To Bajor!
Lenik: Response
Her hand tightened around her glass, then, in one swift motion, she flung the green alcoholic contents of her glass in Lenik’s face. Scimultaneously she let the makeshift akai slide down her sleeve from its hiding place and into her hand in the same motion as she brought the baton up, smashing it into the low-hanging lantern overhead to snuff out the light in the room.
The lantern half exploded as it crashed into the licor-soaked planks of the floor. Green flame exploded from the surface, and its sparks reached for Lenik’s boose-soaked face. Small, hot motes landed in her hair and shirt collar.
T’Fearne swept the deranged Bajoran’s legs out from under her, bringing her crashing to the ground. Spinning to where she sensed the lone guard in the dark room T’Fearne threw her other akai with as much force and accuracy as she could muster. It clipped him on the side of the head. The man crumpled to the ground with a thud.
Turning back to the horrible sight that was Lenik’s writhing form, parts of her engulfed in flames, she ripped the duck from Leniks smouldering, curled fingers, singeing her own and fled the bar.
As she stumbled backwards out of the doorway, half crawling on hands and knees, billows of smoke poured from the door and windows, and The Carpenter’s Rest began to be eaten from within by a raging greenish fire.
She took a step back, another. Turned and began to run, sticking to the shadows in the direction she saw Alieth and Xan disappear. She tucked the small, strangely warm, burnished wooden duck into her jacket pocket.
Breathing hard, T’Fearne turned and ran through the smoke-filled streets of Bajor, guided only by the moons that had risen overhead. She was unsure where she was going until she glimpsed the lavender moonlight kiss the top of a distinctive spire. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but she dared not stop.
T’Fearne: Oh thank the four dieties! The Bantica Spire...
There. She could see it now—its spire piercing the smoky sky. She moved toward it, knowing she was close to her destination. But before she could take another step, a hand shot out of the shadows, grabbing her arm. T’Fearne reacted instinctively, striking with her remaining akai—breaking bone, it released, but more figures emerged. She was circled by five cultists, with more shadows shifting around them in the smoke.
One figure came forward. T’Fearne couldn’t stifle the horrified hiss of shock and recognition.
A voice—one she had hoped to never hear again—slithered out of the darkness.
Lenik: Response
T’Fearne: You!... How are you still alive?
Lenik: Response
T’Fearne’s mind raced, but she fought to keep her composure.
T’Fearne: I hid it. :: Pointing into the gloom:: You will never find it without me.
Lenik: Response
And before T’Fearne could react, something sharp cracked against the side of her head, and the world went black.
[Tag, You’re It! / TBC in …And on to the Pyre]
((OOC: 1One-Fifty-seven: The Temporal Prime Directive))
===============================
Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14