Ensign T’Fearne - No Good at Goodbyes
teayl.thorn
((OOC: Sorry, Andrea, I misread the green gem placement detail wrong earlier, I didn’t realise it until after I sent the last sim, bingo card jail for me. ))
((District close to Bantica Spire, B’Hala, Kendra Province, Bajor))
On their return to the fiery city, riding on lopp back, Alieth, T’Fearne and Xan attempt a stealthy approach, trying to remain undetected by bow and scythe-wielding prylars holding a grudge. They sense they may not be alone as they near the spire and attempt to locate their fellow time-travellers.
They were as quiet as they could be, but a slight bone rattle as the lopp’s occasionally shook their frill necks and the clip of their honed hooves on the ruined cobblestones was muted by the sounds of fire and shifting debris.
T’Fearne glanced at Alieth and noticed the little green gem attached to her d’ja pagh seemed different, glowing softly with a feint steady pulse.
T’Fearne::: whispered:: I don’t know how we will find them in this mess, but your earring, the green gem is doing something different. I think it’s glowing and pulsing.
Vrozek: ::turning to face Alieth:: Why is your d’ja pagh glowing?
Alieth: Hum? What do you mean? I do not carry any gems on ..…
Alieth’s fingers brushed the delicate green stone, it flared briefly. The glow reflected off her sleeve, bathing the dark fabric in an eerie light. A momentary flicker of concern flashed across her face, like a faint shadow passing over a storm.
Alieth: How the.... it has change places?
T’Fearne’s brow furrowed as she glanced around the dim, ruined city.
T’Fearne::: Whispering:: Maybe it had something to do with the way we were transported here from the cistern. Something we can’t quite understand yet.
Vrozek: ::showing his frustration:: You’re avoiding the question.
The Bajoran seemed frustrated again. T’Fearne took a slow breath, trying to give the poor civilian more patience. They were all under extraordinary circumstances, but she watched as he seemed to get control of himself.
Alieth: I am not avoiding the question. I really do not know why it does that, nor do I know why it has shifted places.
T’Fearne::: Interrupting with a whispered hiss:: Shh! Quiet!
The ensign held up a hand, motioning for silence, as her eyes scanned the shadows of the smokey alleyway. Her ears, not as sharp in Bajoran form caught a faint sound—a scrape, something dragging along the ground. After a moment, nothing happened, and they continued forward slowly and quietly until Xan broke the silence again.
Vrozek: ::trying not to look nervous:: Can we pick up the pace a bit? …I mean…the sooner we reunite with our partners, the better off we’ll be….
The commander's lopp stopped abruptly, and then Xan’s danced to a halt. The creatures raised their leathery, wet muzzle with nostrils flaring and sniffed the air in front of them. Alieth’s lopp let out an annoyed huff and took a couple of steps back while Xan tried to soothe his. T’Fearne’s lopp shifted its tail and made a noise that had inspired her private nickname for it and started turning in a complete circle.
Alieth: The lopp does not seem to be willing to continue, and we must trust the instinct of the animals. They smell danger...
T’Fearne::: to herself:: That might be something else that they smell. :: louder:: Maybe we should…:: turning around:: get off this thoroughfare.
The tall ensign’s lopp shifted under her weight. Its horned feet stamping in slight agitation. She gave the dark-eyed creature she had been mentally referring to as “Stinky” a scritch behind its bony frill.
The commander seemed to have some sort of experience with live mounts, and T’Fearne had watched her handling of the creatures carefully. She slowed and then turned to exit the alley following Alieth’s lead as she twitched the lopp’s reigns to guide it down a side street. A crunch echoed across the rooftops and a hail of debris came crashing down on her and her lopp.
Alieth: It is a trap!
Alieth gave her a split second of warning as Stinky reared up on its hind legs and twisted, huffing with urgency, and broke wind into a wild sprint. T’Fearne felt herself carried her forward, narrowly avoiding the falling rubble that had almost crushed them.
In the chaos, she barely had time to register Alieth’s mount thrashing about in panic, struggling to extricate them both from the falling danger.
She cast all her attention on the crazed dash of her own mount as it turned, bucked and charged straight for Xan’s panicking lopp.
T’Fearne: Stop it, Stinky! :: yelled into what she hoped was the creature's auditory orifice::
Clamping the creature's ribs hard with her legs, T’Fearne looped the leather reigns around her good forearm and wrenched back. Stinky suddenly put its hindquarters to the ground as they grazed the last few meters in what seemed like slow motion skidding past the back of Xan’s lopp and bouncing off a building wall instead.
((OOC - removing some comments that Vrozek says to himself or secretly to Lenik, check out MSNPC Vrozek Xan - Ritual de lo Habitual for full sim!))
The crash dislodged her from Stinky’s back as the leathery body collided with the stone, throwing her to the hard ground and setting her shoulder throbbing badly again. The collision seemed to have momentarily stunned the beast as it stood nervously shivering and dribbling on the ground and then teetered off into the shadow and smoke.
Alieth called out, still atop her panicking mount.
Alieth: Lenik?!?! Why are you…?!?!
Following the commander’s gaze, T’Fearne rolled over onto her back in the dust and looked up at the roof. She could see a dimly lit figure standing atop the roof, staring down at them.
oO Is that Lenik? The other Bajoran researcher? What is she doing up there? Where are Luxa and Nemes? Oo
She felt a sinking feeling in her Bajoran chest. Something was very wrong with Lenik if she was on the roof with the ambushers that had set a trap for them, she and Xan had come to this time together, and now Xan was suspect in her eyes.
She called over her shoulder, her tone growing hard with suspicion.
T’Fearne: Vrozek, are you alright?
Before Vrozek could respond, Alieth’s lopp gave a terrifying shriek of pain, its voice abruptly silenced as a large chunk of rubble pinned its head to the ground. It’s a leathery body heaving in the final death throw.
T’Fearne::: frantic:: Alieth!
Lenik: Response
T’Fearne pulled herself to her feet. The commander had been thrown clear of the struggling mount. Alieth lay on the cracked cobbles, stunned for a moment.
Alieth: ::Struggling to get to back to her feet, she looked around to find the Spire: We have to make it to the rendezvous point!
Pounding through the grit and rubble to reach her side, T’Fearne reached out to steady the dazed-looking officer with her good arm. She helped the petite woman towards the nervous Stinky, lurking in the shadows.
Vrozek: ::looking down at Alieth:: Need some help?
The Bajoran had ridden his lopp to corralled Stinky and led the nervous wreck of a lopp back to them.
Trying to lift the commander up to the skittish beast's back.
T’Fearne: Come on. :: straining:: Climb up. We have to get to Luxa and Nemes!
Lenik/Alieth: Response
With Alieth somewhat atop the lopp, the ensign twisting to look up at the rooves and then at their entrance to the street, lit in the glow of the fire lights. She finally noticed the figures approaching in the distance, coming out of the smoky gloom, some wearing blood-red robes and carrying scythe weapons and a few bows.
Her gaze swung to the slowly approaching Lenik. Then, up to Vrozek and what she saw in his dark eyes, a look he had been trying to hide suddenly became clear in the firelight. Even without her limited ability to sense deception, she was used to observing creatures, it was part of her job. Vrozek had been hiding something, concealing himself from the moment she met him, and now she was pretty sure she knew what it was. He was delighted about their situation.
T’Fearne’s pulse quickened, and her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
oO I have to buy some time for us. Oo
Alieth still seemed dazed. Unsure how injured she was after being thrown from her lopp, the ensign checked on her and saw the trauma of the notch taken from her ear and the freshly reopened blood oozing from the cut on her cheek. She still had a glazed look in her eyes, T’Fearne needed her to be clear-headed, or her distraction would be for nothing.
She had to strain to make the Vulcan word come past the compulsion to default to ancient Bajoran.
T’Fearne: 1Oslauvolaya! 2Svik-tor!
Lenik/Alieth: Response
She hoped that it would be enough. She took a step back, and as she smacked Stinky on the rump and the lopp trotted off in the direction Xan had taken, she thought she saw a sharpening in the commander's dark eyes and smiled. Xan didn’t know it yet, but death stalked behind him.
Turning back to regard Lenik and the Bajorans, she took a moment to analyse the ones before her, the kind of people that Bajorans were, passionate, scrappy, fiercely loyal to their beliefs. Perhaps their strengths could be a tactical weakness she could exploit. Logic warring with emotion was her daily struggle as a Vulcazoid, and for the first time, she appreciated that they were both…gone. She stretched and shrugged her shoulders, though her wound made it painful, letting all of the weight of expectation, of family and duty roll off her with a deep breath. She relaxed her forearms and wrists and let her fingers go limp. She stood before them, new, a clean weapon, or a tool, whatever she chose in that moment. She opened her eyes and let the weight of that untapped potential poor into the look she levelled at Lenik.
T’Fearne: Don’t come any closer:: warning in a clear loud voice to the cultists::
She felt the tremor building slowly in her legs, and it took a moment to realise that it was the ground shaking in a small quake and not her resolve. Now it was her turn to play a game with them.
Lenik/Alieth if any/Vrozek if any: Response
Her choice was made. She blocked out all other voices and focused on Lenik. The other time traveller from the future. Except she had an army here, and only 4 Starfleet officers were currently in existence.
T’Fearne::: Shaking her head at Lenik:: You have it wrong, sister. Some of you know of me. You know the prophets have used my voice.
She unclipped her earring and threw it to the ground.
Lenik/Alieth if any/Vrozek if any: Response
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.
There was wrapt silence in the alley, and she felt the keen attention of the cultists' focus on her proclamation.
Lenik/Alieth if any/Vrozek if any: Response
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 hoped Alieth would understand her choice, her sacrifice. She knew that if she succeeded, she would likely never return to the 25th century, and wouldn’t have to worry about the charge of insubordination, dereliction of duty or desertion.
She knelt in the rubble and dust, blood-soaked jacket hanging from her shoulders, her hand meekly tucked into her colourfully embroidered sleeves, and closed her eyes.
Beneath the long sleeves, her hands tightened on the rough wooden akai sticks she had been carrying since they arrived.
Lenik/Alieth if any/Vrozek if any: Response
[Tag, You’re It! / TBC]
((OOC: 1Oslauvolaya - Sacrifice. 2Svik-tor - Betray.))
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14