To Scratch or Rend

Posted on Tue 18th Mar, 2025 @ 2:10pm by Commodore H'tek & Commander Heriah Rex
Edited on on Tue 18th Mar, 2025 @ 3:39pm

1,435 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: The Phoenix Gamble

-Start-

{Holding Cells, Deep Space black site somewhere near the triangle}

Anslo shouted, blood on his lips from the solid fist of H'teks footman, "Qo' Sujatlh 'e' yImev" (Stop this, I won't do it!)

H'tek waved a hand casually, the 'la made a solid punch to Anslo's broken rib.

Anslo could barely control the pain, but he had an advantage in Tol, whose meditative and physiological effects helped.

"nuqneH?" (What do you want?")

H'tek spat, "baQa, baqtagh!" (Damn piece of ^%@#$) the insult had to be answered, even fettered at his mercy, a Klingon answered such challenges so Anslo would too. He also added,

"pe’vIl mu’qaDmey (You curse like a child) qaStaH nuq jay’ (What the #$*@ is happening?)"

H'tek then spoke very plainly but the tone dripped with malice, "I am selling you to the Trill. they paid my price without question."

Anslo felt his stomach turn over, he nearly vomited. The memory of the last time they caught him, and being sliced open, of when Tol recognized Anslo's right to live and gave permission to the young man to run.

"Ha’DIbaHmey, HuH … P'taq!" (Unthinking mindless slimey worm!) Anslo screamed at his former friend. "They will cut Tol out of me here where we stand. I have served you so well, and now you honorless Ferengi you sell me away. I brought you back from your brink."

Tol didnt speak with words, but emotions and imagery coupled with a highly intuitive inner monolog. Tol gave counsel as a whisper in his ear. It wasn't quite talking with himself, but sometimes too close for his comfort. He had never learned integration, of thinking as one being, it was a relic of the scorched earth left by former agents in their pursuit of Anslo.

"These agents will probably just kill you once they have Tol, you should prevent them from extracting before the deal is done."

H'tek chuckled, "I remember why you came to me. I've handled three separate teams sent your way, these ones know I am to be dealt with evenly."

Anslo was cuffed in a holding cell, his shield from this exact fate now turning into his captor. "vaj DapIHbe'" (You have no soul.)

={{= My liege, there is a vessel requesting landing pad access.

H'tek stormed from the room leaving Anslo on the floor of his cell broken.

{Landing Pad- Black site}

Rizhkyn looked over his kit before sealing it into pouches well blended into the Tactical clothing. Though he was a Trill by simply looking, nothing else in his equipment or iconography connected back there beyond his orders. Memorized and non-existent in any real way, they had always been simple, "Bring Tol back." Of course the long years and multiple losses to this mission had added, "Make it hurt" to it as well. Anslo had been offered to them by a traitorous friend, fitting for this wretched lowlife to have no worthy friends. With a subtle nod to himself, he stood without ceremony and went to the rear door of their small shuttle. They just needed to go get him, but this pirate was a madman, treachery was afoot. Rizhkyn wasn't tall or large by any margin, and his limbs were stiff from the panel work over the long surveillance. Rizhkyn's brand of threat came from his tactical prowess, with almost precognitive ability to plan for anything.

He smiled at the cloaked warbirds coming into sector as it appeared on his scans. running his hand over shaved head, the brown on black pigmentation embraced his skull as a bed of ivy in rising moon he roused himself from the sedentary watch. The feeble cloak worked on merchant vessels but TSC agents were kept equipped with bleeding edge equipment. H'tek had no cloak able to defy these sensors, but thinking he was invisible would confer a great advantage. The heavily modified heavy cruiser could certainly annihilate their little stealth cutter, but direct confrontation was never the method.

The risk wasn't even a factor, they knew where the symbiote "Tol" was, and their mission compelled them to retrieve him. They would prepare a battleground and march into the trap if it meant getting into the same room as Tol.

A one deck cigar tube made the ship extremely boring, but most of the systems were meant for stealth and specialized operations. In all of ten steps, Rizhkyn made a left turn into the 'fresher room.

"Rautha, I believe our quarry is in hand."

Rautha had not been with Rizhkyn over the course of the long years, but had only been attached to the assignment for only the past several months. To Rautha, though, the passage of time since Tol had been stolen, each passing second, felt far worse than any companion Rizhkyn may have lost, worse than the number of times Rizhkyn was so close to recapturing Tol.

He laid, shirtless upon the bench. It was hard and uncomfortable even for sitting upon, but it served as Rautha's bunk since his arrival. Upon his chest laid two daggers made from the teeth of the Trill sabrebeast. His eyes were open and locked upon some point on the ceiling. His lips did not move but he was deep in meditation. His bald head showed that a Trill's spots did venture up both sides of their heads to meet at a point at the top of the head, then ventured straight down the back of the neck.

Blinking once upon Rizhkyn's announcement, Rautha grabbed his daggers, spun them around in his hands and sheathed them in their respective sheathes on his belt. Rautha ran a hand across a scar across his abdomen while mouthing something cryptic. He sat up and reached for his monk's tunic.

"Remember those earlier days after you had received the light," he said as he quoted something. He continued with, "when you endured in a great conflict full of suffering." He skipped to the end. "Do not throw away your confidence for it will be richly rewarded."

He donned his tunic, fixing it with a roped belt. Rautha ensured his daggers were easy to get to. He even retrieved them once with lightning speed, then slipped them back. "Brother Tol, we are going home." He looked at Rizhkyn with piercing eyes. He did not blink, did not nod, he made no indication that he was ready to go, to face whatever lied ahead; only because he was always ready.

The scripture was actually a relief to hear, the plan relied on a genuine performance, who better than a believer?

"My confidence is in you Rautha, and as such also my reward. Today we will succeed at last."

They connected eyes. Rizhkyn did not see much in the eyes staring back at him, to include life. Behind Rautha's eyes was little of that if any at all. What he did see, however, was pure determination, dedication, and belief.

"Your confidence is well placed," Rautha said. "My reward is simply returning Tol to his rightful place."

That he had such a potent weapon on hand helped Rizhkyn form a new plan. Rautha was more than the tip of the spear, he was the wolf in sheeps clothing. Under the robe, one could scarcely tell the monastic silhouette belied a murderous tempest. H'tek was likely clueless of the higher orders and dress, they'd be able to pose as monks of the T'iril faith of which Tol had once been a proud practitioner. The trick was to counter whatever H'tek came ready with. A gift of presience told Rizhkyn H'tek would decloak, spilling anti-tachyons all over to mask this second warbird. The trade would go off without a hitch, but the moment H'tek could slam the door and open fire he would. This second warbird would decloak and recapture them all, creating three valuable hostages.

The key was to disrupt all of that. Laying a gravitic mine was easy, almost protocol at this point. They didn't need Anslo, just the symbiont. And they didn't need to undergo surgery, they just needed the torso to be frank, Tol could be removed on their ship under much better conditions. They would board, they would take the room Anslo stood in, hack his limbs, and make their escape. Three transporter beacons, linked to their elite transporter unit could retrieve all of them plus the extra weight. Their sleek vessel was fast and didn't rely on ancient cloaks for stealth.

"The plan has stages Rautha, your part in it comes in the middle. Listen closely..."

Those same dead, determined, dutiful eyes stayed glued to Rizhkyn's. Rautha was listening.

-End-

 

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