Save Me: Part 1

Posted on Mon 27th Oct, 2025 @ 8:50am by Commander Heriah Rex & Commander Anslo Tol
Edited on on Tue 28th Oct, 2025 @ 12:38am

3,696 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: From The Ashes
Location: Heriah Rex Office

-Start-

{Executive Officer Private Suite- OPS}

With as many internal injuries as he had endured, the medical folks had seen to his injuries well. H'tek had tortured and abused Anslo, and the seeker agents had terrorized him as well. After twenty years of running the dreaded moment was here. The bear trap had sprung at his ankle and now was just waiting for either mercy or a quick death. Tol was helping Anslo to feel placid, as there was no more room to maneuver. To accept fate with poise was his only control left in life.

He walked the slow pace of a man in no hurry to arrive at the gallows. Eyes on him from Starfleet officers who knew were a mix of pity or hatred. He took small comfort in the fact it was at least a mix. As they arrived to OPS, a sharp turn to the wardrooms behind the cavernous main room made his stomach twist. Small rooms like this were where the worst things could happen.

Would the two seeker agents be there with Heriah, ready to gut him?

His escort tapped him forward as his pace had slowed and then pointed him forward, beyond Central Ops. A gentle nod in acknowledgement and a quickened step saw Anslo to her door in a moment.

The door opened without Security having to announce their arrival.

"Enter," came Heriah's voice from within. "Security, remain posted outside."

One security personnel posted himself to the right of Heriah's office door. The other motioned with his head for Anslo to enter, then posted himself.

Heriah stood behind her desk, watching as Anslo entered. The door slid to a close behind him, sealing them off from everything and everyone outside. A long window behind her gave way to a wonderful view of the stars, but both knew her office was deep inside the deck to be near Central Ops. That window was nothing but a viewscreen currently showing the stars. Off to the side was a sitting area complete with two chairs, a sofa, and a table with a vase atop. From the vase stood a pair of Trill lilacs. One was black. The other was red. The room was filled with a faint, but noticeable scent of the Trill sabrebeast. Heriah let him briefly take in the area; to know they were alone.

"Commander Heriah Khatain Rex," she said introducing herself. "I do believe you said you are," she looked at her PADD, "Lieutenant Anslo Jaron Tol, 449877BG." She reconnected eyes with him. "Seeking asylum from execution by the Trill agents who brought you here, if I remember correctly."

He had only just entered, feeling very much like a live feeding to a venomous creature's lair. The seating area was not yet in play so he simply took two more solid strides inwards to allow the door to close.

The Red and Black duality of the Commander's lilacs was not lost on him. Which one was Heriah, and was one better than the other for him to play against? Rex was an unknown quantity, though Tol had faint recognition deeply buried in memory. A split persona was once something Anslo faced with Tol, but after so many years a peace had been struck. He struggled to find a parallel in the moment, rationalizing that he had compromised with Tol to not eat meat that wasn't ethically sourced. Tol had agreed with Anslo to run all those years ago, and the two had overcome a galaxy-wide span of distance to form something of a true joining.

Anslo put his fate into a higher power. Redemption for his sins was the least of his worries; he just didn't want to be a victim of circumstance. Best to die an agent with free will to choose.

"I never quit Starfleet. Admiral Dracaj, the Starfleet adjutant of the Trill diplomatic delegation ordered me to undergo an illegal procedure. I was used as an emergency... an ill-fitting suit, and Tol was in poor health. I have been avoiding a knife for twenty years. Those men, you know what they do. If they have to they'll rip Tol out and leave me bleeding. One said I could make the trip to Trill armless and legless, a stump. I have the scars from where others have tried."

"Yes, I've...seen the scans," she said as she swiped at her PADD. "I have also noticed the gap in service in your Starfleet profile. Plus the Joined Trill Compendium has incomplete records regarding the joining of the Tol symbiont." Heriah swiped through the records back to the home screen. "Being the Commander of this starbase as well as the automatically appointed Trill representative for incidents regarding the Trill, that makes me your best chance in getting out of this situation."

'Tol...Tol. Something about the name. Not yet ringing a bell.'

Heriah stepped around from behind her desk. "I understand if you feel restraint, but I mean you no harm and...as long as you answer truthfully...I have no intention of letting those two," she said as she pointed in the rhetorical direction of Sick Bay, "leave here with you as their ward. I've only 2 questions really. (1) Did you agree to a temporary or emergency Joining with Tol all those years ago and (2) who are those two, your captors? I need names, affiliations, anything you may remember."

Anslo sneered inwardly, not taking her at face value but trusting this was his best play. He started with a gentle low tone, "I am a highly trained infantry specalist, during the Dominion war the Ambassador to the Trill... Talbic Grentkit, was... Talbic went on to accomplish every impossible task set before him before taking his own life at the invasion of Betazed."

Joining meant reliving those memories from Talbic just as if Anslo had seen the same.

"The loss of life he witnessed firsthand of one of the gentlest peoples of the Federation broke him. I was the Trill in his retinue that took on the burden. I was told within three days it could be reversed, and indeed it can, but I got too sick rejecting Tol and they opted to remove him, without concern for me. I heard them on the table, and Tol heard them. Tol convinced me they were working to save the symbiont, not me. I protested, and Admircal Dracaj told me they were working to save us both. He ordered me with the full weight of court martial to lay down."

The pain, the betrayal, was very visceral, and would never go away. Anslo was holding back emotional gouts of ragged breathing and tearing up.

"When they cut into me without anesthetic, I was convinced, too. Admiral Hamner in Starfleet Medical only ever was told that I refused to submit for treatment as ordered and was a missing person with a symbiont precious to the Trill in my demented grips. I went to Captain Fredan Douglas of the Sierra Nevada, a friend and former commander, the one who saw me go to Ambassador Tablic's service, and his orders were to arrest me and turn me over to the Trill. Fredan let me run, because he asked how is that not a death sentence!"

Anslo could barely stop from sobbing, but the emotional release of twenty years of nightmares felt like it might actually be coming to the conclusion.

"I have run from Starfleet, and the Trill Symbiosis Commission, all the way to the Delta Quadrant, where I met the most curious Klingons and joined their unhappy little band. Those two are the most recent thugs sent to retrieve Tol and leave me bleeding. I have absolutely left many of their kind in my wake. Those are all my cards, total honesty, I am begging for your mercy. I am tired of running."

Heriah listened intently and realized he answered neither of her questions outright. But, she surmised the answer to her first question. She thought briefly of her own experiences with the Trill Symbiosis Commission. Her experiences were less violent and demanding, though she was ordered to keep many details secret. That, and her dealings also included Trill military. She decided not to vocalize the military influences in her own Joining experience. Such a thing might only make Anslo run again.

"Quite a story," she said. She felt his pain, his emotions behind his words. She had to still herself against any outpouring of sympathy for the moment. The situation was more delicate than anyone else knew.

'Quite the sob story. Deny him asylum. See what else he will come up with'

"And you will get mercy." She snatched her PADD from her desk and swiped at it. "There is something I need to know still." She handed Anslo her PADD. Upon it was a display of multitudinous human faces. All different sans a few similarities here and there. "I need to you select an avatar. Neither of these people are real. Once you have selected an avatar, the next screen will provide you with a list of names. Likewise, none are real people. I need you to have an alias for what I am about to do."

Despite his history, true intelligence work had never been his field. Anslo had been in black ops, but as the operator on ground. This side of things was bewildering. He had to trust his instincts, but even that had a tinge of danger to it. Tol was uneasy with Heriah, or Rex, but it was difficult to ascertain which. Nonetheless, as his injuries healed he needed time, and this was the game to get that time. So he played and added an extra stake.

"This one." He pointed at a profile of a handsome yet angular face, similar to his own but less hair, different eyes, killer jawline. "And... I have a trove of intelligence, freely shared. I really want to be done running, Commander."

'You know what they say about not running...You have to run to get there.'

"I am sure you do," she said as she retrieved her PADD. "Before we can think of tapping into your knowledge, we need to get this obstacle out of the way." Heriah tapped at the PADD, locking in his avatar and the name he selected. "But first, I need to know what it is you are running from, exactly. I can stamp asylum requests all day long, but to grant asylum to you...a member of Starfleet as well as a Trill, from the Trill who is both a member of the Federation as well as having military alliances with Starfleet...can be a tricky maneuver as well as a reason for diplomats and politicians to get involved." She turned toward her desk, spun her computer terminal around and tapped at it. "If I am right about you then we both do not want anything to do with that red tape."

The field of stars on the viewscreen behind her became accompanied with a window displaying the emblem of the UFP. It took a few seconds but the screen went away and was replaced by a Trill male.

"Acolyte Nevinter, receptionist for the Temple of the Path of T'Ril, speaking. How may I help you ma'am." Nevinter regarded the man beside Heriah. "And sir."

"Commander Heriah Khatain, Starbase 109, Starfleet...of course. Please check your records, you will see that I visited your temple many years ago."

Nevinter looked down and worked a few seconds. "Oh yes, I see. Well, it is always a pleasure to..."

"I am now Heriah Khatain Rex. Joined."

Nevinter's eyes lit up. "Oh really? That's great." He looked down again and updated the records while also comparing what he heard with the Joined Trill Compendium. "I see." His smile went away and, again, he said, "I see." Nevinter looked back up at his screen, back at Heriah. "What can I do for you."

"I need to speak with the High Priest. I have a question..."

"I am most sorry, ma'am, but the High Priest serving us when you visited is no longer with us. Our High Priestess is away in the capital. But I do have all the notes and much of the knowledge of all our priests past. I am confident I can answer any question you may have."

Heriah took a step closer to the viewscreen. Anslo stood where he was. "I have with me, a human, as you can tell," she said as Nevinter looked to Anslo and nodded. Heriah double-checked her PADD to ensure the avatar Anslo had selected was displaying adequately over the feed. "He is doing a study on xeno-divinity. That is the..."

"...the study of religious practices not of Earth."

Heriah stood straight, confident the ruse at keeping Anslo's identity hidden was working. "He had some questions regarding the Path of T'Ril. From my studies, and visit to your temple, I was able to answer most, but he also asked after the existence of an order of monks; these warrior-like religious monks, with bald heads, and...well...during my time of study and my visit, I never heard or seen any sigh of such an order."

While Heriah spoke her question, she and Anslo both saw Nevinter grow pale. Even his spots lost a bit of their color. His expression was of stone, as though the feed between the two was severed and was locked on the last image.

"Acolyte Nevinter," Heriah said. "Are you..."

"Yes, yes. I am fine. I just...please tell me you did not just ask that question."

Heriah made no comment. Nevinter was sitting still but vibrating. He was obvious bouncing his foot nervously.

"What I know about these monks is only hearsay. There is nothing written. Everything about them is orally handed down."

Heriah nodded. "Then please divulge what you know. It is important for my, human, friend's study."

Nevinter flashed his eyes between the two as though taking in their final images before death. "Of course you know of the Path of T'Ril. Well there is also a Path of T'Iril. Very close, just...some schisming going on about 1000 years ago. There came about another schism, a splinter group, if you will. They too follow the Path of T'Ril but also take from the Path of T'Iril as well. Both of these paths regard T'Ril...or T'Iril...as our goddess, our deity who lead us...too...well these monks follow another path. That of T'Ril yes, but a god, not a goddess. He even has a name. Tzelethen T'Ril. Unlike our goddess who brought peace and tolerance and community among us all, Tzelethen T'Ril brought peace, but only through conquest. Tolerance, but only after all that they do not tolerate is eradicated. Unity, but only after all unbelievers are dead. You get the idea."

Heriah nodded, looked to Anslo, then back at Nevinter.

Nevinter went on. "These monks are affiliated with those who follow the Path of T'Ril, Path of Tzelethen T'Ril. It is said that they are Joined but only to their mission."

"I saw...well, my human friend saw one apparently. Said his spots were a bit darker, like mine, as though he was Joined."

"You saw one," Nevinter looked to Anslo, still appearing as human on his side of the feed. "Well I congratulate you on surviving. As you may know, when a Trill becomes Joined, the symbiont has to wipe away this mucous membrane covering the nerve cluster."

"Yes," said Heriah, "I am aware. Between the time when Rex removed my membrane and him attaching to it...I felt as though floating in a vast void of nothingness. Never could I have imagined feeling so alone. It seemed to have lasted years."

"Yes, exactly," said Nevinter. "I remain unJoined but all accounts of Joining point to that experience of loneliness. It always feels like years, but was really only a second, maybe less, before the symbiont attaches."

'More like bites down," Heriah thought.

"These monks," Nevinter went on, "These monks willingly undergo a surgery, where someone goes in and surgically removes that mucous membrane, plugs the nerve endings so the membrane cannot reform, then they are closed up."

Heriah and Anslo stood there a second, waiting for more. "And no symbiont?" Heriah finally asked.

Nevinter shook his head. "No symbiont. That sense of loneliness you felt, that second of floating in a vast void? Well that is how these monks live...for many years."

"And they do this willingly?" she asked.

"Yes," said Nevinter. "This makes them remorseless, consciousless, thoughtless. They have no shame, no grief, no fear...no mercy, no reluctance, and they absolutely will not stop until their mission...their divine commandment, if you will, because that is how they see it, they will not stop until that is finished. We don't write about them because they will come to destroy any writings. Tell your human friend to not ask any questions about these monks. Because they have ways of hearing about those who ask, and they will head out to search and destroy.

"These monks are highly trained, in all forms of combat. Whether it is of blades or blunts or energy weapons or projectile, or hand-to-hand combat, espionage, infiltration...you name it. They are proficient and are perfectly willing. If you know where one is, it is best to go in the other direction. If one is among you, it is best to cooperate and give him what he wants, just so he will go away. If he has his eyes on you, it is best to go into hiding and possibly hire an army to defend you. From what I hear, one of these monks is the last thing you ever want to experience, even on a good day. You know how we feel about life and all. The High Priestesses of both paths have remained silent on the idea that these monks are not really alive and should therefore be sought out and killed. That decision has not been made, because...maybe they are alive...but I think mostly because to make a decision would bring down the full weight of them upon us. We have no idea how many monks there are. And...I need to stop talking about this now. Any word of this gets out and I..." Nevinter looked away then back. "Forgive me. I can say no more."

"That is quite alright," said Heriah. "Thank you for what you have shared. That is really all we need to know. I am sure my friend here gets the idea."

"Is there anything else," Nevinter asked shakily.

"No, that is all," Heriah replied. "Have a good and peaceful day, Acolyte Nevinter."

"You too, Heriah Khatain Rex, honored Joined."

Heriah terminated the connection and slowly turned to Anslo as she asked, "Now why would a religious nutjob Trill monk, who not even Trill religious leaders can decide if he is alive or dead, be on a mission to capture you?"

Anslo let his salvation rain, Heriah was actually listening and getting to the bottom of this. He knew half of the story with Rautha as the killer monk but the depths of such a self-mutilation were never revealed to him until now.

“H’tek was making a fool of the agents coming after me. This escalation was inevitable. And… You should know, I was betrayed by H’tek and arranged to be sold to Ryzhkyn and Rautha after I tried to contact this station about H’tek sending an agent to destroy this station. I still feel the threat is imminent.”

"Oh we are fully prepared for any attack," Heriah said. "We are well aware of H'Tek and his cronies. I take it Rautha and Ryzhkyn made quick work of his men but left him alive for some reason. They were there for you, not H'Tek and his gang. But if H'Tek is planning a new attack and we have these two on board willing to do anything to get to you, then it will be difficult to take on H'Tek if we also have these two running around causing mayhem from within."

"Given the situation," she continued, "I am left with three options. (1) Hand you over to them once their ship is fixed. (2)," and she showed Anslo her PADD, "have you sign your formal request for asylum and we let the diplomats iron out what to do with you, or (3)," she withdrew her PADD before he could take it, "I have a way for you to escape this starbase free from them two...or make it look like you escaped...and they will leave this place in search of you, unaware that you never left."

She was making a truly heroic leap of faith at Anslo’s veracity. The latent sense of Starfleet camaraderie come at long last made him nearly sob. He had run for so long, and it had just got him back to here. He had to trust Starfleet and Anslo knew Heriah was his best hope to come in from the cold.

“No prevarication, before I reply I offer this intelligence freely. I don't wish to play games that will result in mass death. You need to have your Ops team scan for strange matter interactions. Ask them if they have scanned your fusion core at all recently. And as for your choice…”

He swallowed, and decided it was time to shed the wolf's skin for good. He would live or die as a Starfleet officer should, it was time to stop running.

“… Those two will not stop until they return Tol to Trill and I will help you deal with them. I trust you, I trust Starfleet, not trusting them is what made me run, but it’s all come back to here anyway.”

Heriah smiled at Anslo.

'Oh I know your plan already. This will be fun.'

Heriah tapped her commbadge. "Rex to LT Ildaran. Report to my office please."

'Oh well you could have left out the please at least.'

-End-

 

RSS Feed