Mother Knows Best, Pt II

Posted on Thursday, 4 June 2020 - 12:18pm by Zelon Bakar & Lieutenant Ryan Rose MD
Edited on on Tuesday, 9 June 2020 - 12:24pm

Mission: Operation: Iktomi
Location: Xanthan
Timeline: MD +00

Silence fell upon the Casablanca for twelve and a half hours following Rhydian's departure. True to his word, he convinced the squad's remaining leadership to permit the runabout a docking clamp beneath the vaguely larger vessel. Having expanded their warp bubble around the pair of hulls, a stabilised tetryon field was later projected to shield the smaller craft as Rayes collaborated with the cadets for their upcoming manoeuvre. One that had required the joining of minds of several of the cadet's departments before flinging the ships across one-hundred-and-thirty-six odd light years. Tetryon gravity catapults. Not advised for those with motion sickness.

Woji was none-too-pleased when transit closed, drawing the analogy from her complaints akin to an angry human toddler shaking a rattle during a venomous tantrum. Somehow, the ship held together, despite the odd groans which nearly matched the Tellarite's bemoaning. No signs of hull stress or fractures, which soon led the mission to separate from the Exploratory Corps' vessel and head off for Xanthan. Another two days' travel.

Mere seconds after the runabout set down upon one of the larger pads, the specialist had opened the hatch, heaving for air. "Never have I been so glad to be on the ground," she complained with a trill of open relief. Stepping out with the armoured luggage carrying the spices in tow, she slung a compression rifle over her shoulder. "Coming? Oh — I know it's late, but I forgot to mention, that damned pointy-eared cadet left you a medicine field kit inside a backpack. I was preoccupied with worrying the ship was going to fly apart."

“Ah, thank you.” Ryan was not pleased with any of this, but was more or less resigned to his fate. He found said backpack and slid it on.

She set the spices down gently upon the carpet, whistling from the bay. "Anyway -- he said it might be easier on your back, given you're the only one authorised to carry that black box."

The crewman snorted. "What's in that thing, anyway? I tried using my access codes and even overriding the lock. Nothing. You're not carrying something explosive in that are you? Blue label reminds me of the Andorians. Always wanting to blow something up."

“I’m not at liberty to say.” He stated simply. “So, where to?” Ryan asked, still feeling completely out of his depth.

Were she not preoccupied, the Tellarite’s temperament suggested she may have withheld a sharp comment, but pulled out a PADD from the runabout’s interior hatch. “Give me a few seconds to memorise this damned thing.” Grumbling to herself, Woji clicked her lips, sucking on the upper-half as she processed the information. “This marketplace is all kinds of chaos. No organised layout to it at all. You’d think whoever built it would have laid out sectors. But no. They just continued tacking on more floating platforms as the area grew. Because that’s stable...” Stepping down, the specialist tossed the device back into the small craft before closing and locking the hatch. Nervously eying the water just a few metres away from their own edge of the platform, another grumble left her throat.

“Come on. I’ll try to make sense of this area. Damned place could use a good Federation smack upside the head if you ask me.” She led them beneath the arch separating the landing platforms from the marketplace proper, which turned out to be far larger than one might have expected. Deceiving, given its slight impression from the earlier view on the horizon, but the sprawling nature quickly became apparent. The buildings weren’t in the best of shape, for what had likely once been a pristine community several hundred years in the past. Merchants were squabbling over prices as they warily eyed carbine-armed members from an unfamiliar species. It wasn’t discernible if they were guards, thugs, or somewhere in between. Proceeding through however, the specialist drew conclusions it was more likely the latter, however.

After nearly eight minutes of wandering through the crowded streets and several attempts which resulted in turning around, Woji came to a halt in front of a sign, looking down as she tapped her head before returning her gaze to it. “I think it’s this one. That symbol looks familiar,” the specialist pondered aloud, peering in with a look of disgust on her face. “Well...it looks better than what we’ve been passing through. But it looks like a bar. And not Federation standard either. Why the hell would Stillwater send us to a bar? Is he that desperate for a drink?”

This mission was just getting worse. The landing platform didn’t feel stable, and Ryan couldn’t swim. He told himself to just assume it was a minor earthquake all the time, and that helped. When one was from California, such things almost went unnoticed until they hit a 5 on the Richter scale.
The rundown nature of the place reminded him a bit of home. They drew his attention in several directions. The merchants had items both familiar and unfamiliar, and under different circumstances, Ryan would have been curious to check them all out. As it was, he would rather get off this floating marketplace and get back to the ship. When they stepped up to the outside of what looked like a bar, Ryan turned his attention to Woji. He couldn’t help but give a slight grin at her dig to the new CO. “So, what do you suggest once we get inside?” He asked.

“Order a drink? Like normal people?” His accompaniment cast her eyes to the side, looking around the immediate vicinity before popping her head into the bar. Turning back, the woman assessed the doctor, shaking her head. “Lean your head down. I’m too short.” It wasn’t a request, given her near-maternal tone as she began sliding part of the zipper of his upper garment down, just enough to reveal part of his chest. As the doctor lowered his head, she took a stubby hand, fussing up the blond locks into a far less groomed state, looking more as if lightning had struck him to a wild rave. “Better. But I don’t have time to get you to a beautician.” She nodded back to the door. “Inside, mister.”

Ryan snorted and laughed. She reminded him of his sister when she got her mind set on something. It was best to just follow orders he’d learned. As he stepped in, he couldn’t help but think of the cantina scene from the ancient classic Star Wars. Well, there was no cheesy music, but the sheer variety of life was definitely indicative. The bar was a bar, so at least it wasn’t a complete culture shock. He stepped up and ordered a ginger ale. The bartender gave him a look, rolled her eyes, but slid the requested drink to him. If anybody looked, hopefully they’d think he had something alcoholic.

Woji found a small table off to the side for the duo, immediately frowning upon witnessing the doctor attempting to take the matter into his own hands. She didn’t know what ginger ale was, but given the expression and near-rejection of the bartender had given, it didn’t look good. Muttering to herself, the specialist set her own luggage down before firmly pointing downwards to one seat next to her at the table.

Ryan walked over and took a seat. “What?” He asked, oblivious.

His escort snorted, wrinkling her nose, before looking at the bar’s menu again. “I’m getting us proper drinks. Don’t move. I’ll get you juice. You don’t look like you can handle much else, but at least if I mix it with that weird concoction you have, it may look like a cocktail.” Arms folded, Woji rose from her seat heading over to the counter. Unable to reach the surface, Woji clambered atop a stool lacking the grace of some less stout species. Reading from the menu she grumbled, drumming her fingers. The bartender looked at her impatiently, flickering for an instant which drew the Tellarite to shake her head as if she were seeing multiples before realising it was nothing more than a hologram. “Give me a Blue Eagle and a Bellatrix Sunset.” The program looked at her pointedly before phasing off as a curtain pulled back from the wall behind the bar. A smaller figure than it emerged, almost entirely devoid of clothing save for a frail pair of tattered shorts, which barely covered its sensitive areas.

“Eagle and Bellatrix. Take a seat. She’ll be right with you.”

Woji shook her head, grumbling as they cast her order to the side. Returning to the table which Ryan sat at, the specialist’s mood visibly soured. “Not even the service programs work right here. First a faulty hologram and now we have to wait for two drinks.” Unfolding her arms, she wrung a palm atop their table, clenching it. “I got you a Blue Eagle. Said it had blue juice in it.”

Once they arrived Ryan took a sniff and backed away from the drink as if it had grown fangs. He sighed. “This is ridiculous. “ He pushed the drink away and went for his ginger ale. He was at least going to enjoy something he liked if he had to suffer though....whatever this was.

The crew woman shrugged, looking between the drinks and the patrons. “It said it had juice. I’m not a local. How am I supposed to know what’s in it?” Foot traffic gradually increased outside the bar as several visitors left, the sole remaining employee returning after twelve minutes to refill all three of the drinks. His eyes nervously looked over the compression rifle slung over the Tellarite’s shoulder before clambering away behind the bar. Once more the curtain into the back, pulled back, a taller filled woman entering the room.

Her skin was a lighter shade of fern laurel-green. A frothy dress composed of light fabric neatly clung to her figure, metallic ornaments adorned the belt. Her heeled boots clicked against the metallic floor as she strode in, almost a waving saunter as she approached the table. “Orions…” Woji muttered quietly beneath her breath, her tone immediately dropping to one nearly indistinguishable between frustration and disgust.

“Well. This is unexpected. You’re early. What do you have for me this time?” the woman asked, rounding the corner. She flicked a hand at the patrons which still lingered at the bar itself, immediately causing them to scatter and rush out the door. “I wasn’t expecting anything until at least next week.”

“Made good time.” Ryan replied, reaching for his bag. There was no way he would be suave about this, so he didn’t try. He pulled out a small selection of spices. “The Saffron is especially nice.”

“Did you now?” the woman asked, sauntering over. Her eyes flickered over to the doctor’s escort, looking the stouter figure over. “The pig can leave. I’m disappointed that you keep such company.” Nearing the doctor, she drew a finger underneath his chin, inspecting the spices he held out. “Quaint, but valuable…” she insisted as Woji stumbled away, grumbling all the while. The male bartender quietly scurried over with a tray of fruits as the owner took a seat, immediately pulling her chair up against the human’s. Setting the bowl of delicacies down, he picked up the sunrise left behind by the security escort now lingering at the door. A brief spark nipped from the corner near the bar, startling the youth as he fell upon the ground, dropping and shattering the glass.

“Idiot!” the Orion yelled uncomfortably, kicking at the subordinate. “Pick that up and get out of the way. Make yourself useful.”

“Sorry, Mistress Zhea,” he apologised, wheezing as his chest was kicked. Curling up to spread out the pain, the beleaguered male immediately began scooping up the fragments of glass as his owner returned her attention to the blond nearest her.

Ryan had just slid out of his chair to assist the man, when he stopped himself. He wanted to pull out his tricorder and render aid. But the wheeze was admittedly not that bad. He doubted there was any lingering damage. Still, it went against his every instinct to stay still.

“I’ll take the Saffron. What else do you have for me, sweet?”

Ryan pulled his gaze back to Zhea, and tried to plaster a smile on his face. He found it was pretty easy. As disgusting a display as he’d just seen, he still felt at ease with her next to him. “Cinnamon, and chamomile.” The last was actually his personal stash, but something soothing minded, and he’d spit out the word.

Zhea curved her head to the side, looking at the spices for all of a bare second before tutting, once more drawing a finger underneath the human’s chin. “Now there. I think you have something better for me. You didn’t come all this way to hold out on me. Or should I just take you in the back and show you how persuading I can be?” Leaning in, she hovered her lips nearest his cheek, holding off by only a few millimetres as she drew her breath near his earlobe, once more clicking her tongue. “Come now, blondie locks. I can show you a good time. But only if you give me what’s mine.”

Ryan may have been horrified at the idea, but his body certainly was not. He shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. “There may be something, but it’s more valuable than Saffron and Cinnamon. The price would be.....” Shit shit shit, Ryan fumbled. “Substantial.”

Locked onto her prey, the business owner licked her lips, warmly pressing them against the blond's earlobe. Zhea's breath nipped hot upon the whisper slipping from her suggestive tone. "Is that all?" Her tongue clicked softly as she wrapped an arm about the human's chest as the slave beneath her finished collecting the last fragments of glass. "Wouldn't you like to come home with me tonight?"

Gradually easing from her chair, the seductress draped her legs over her focus, sliding into his lap as she passively kicked the luggage. Jutted across the floor, the verdant slave tripped once more as she hissed a warning to her lesser. Softening her tone, she cooed over the one she was attempting to enrapture. "Now there. Do you think I wouldn't recognise Starfleet when I see it, sweet?"

Ryan sat stiff and still. This had gone pear-shaped quickly. His vocal chords were unwilling to try to deny the truth of her question.

A firm grip slid from her waist down the blond's leg as a sharper metallic object withdrew from a holster beneath her dress. With utmost expedient grace, Zhea pulled a disruptor forward. Its uncomfortable jangly whir resonating in the air, charged and ready as she pointedly directed it at the human's head. Her attention turned to the side briefly, as she shouted in an unintelligible language. Bared down upon her property, she hissed at the slave. "Idiot! You let them in right under you. Do you have any idea how much agony you're due for?"

Tonal pops bit into the air, vicious electrostatic tension lashed from the slave's collar. He immediately collapsed in a heap, writhing, begging for mercy. Fell upon deaf ears, Zhea hoisted herself from her human seat, still armed and pointing the disruptor down as she kneeled to pick up the grey container. Backing away with the cargo in hand, she once more licked her lips, a laugh accompanying her satisfaction. "Too easy."

With the woman out of his lap and headed away, Ryan blinked, breathing hard, but not quite panicking. The slave at his feet writhing in pain brought him around, and he was soon on the floor. He reached up for the drink on the table and dumped its contents onto the latch of the collar. He then grabbed a fork and shoved it at the collar, making sure the sole of his boots was touching the floor.

Unfazed by the desperation, the Orion mistress rolled her eyes as she kicked at both upon the ground.

Ryan used his body as best as he could to protect the other man, glad that it was his legs taking the brunt of her kicking. Only the presence of a medical need had him functioning at all.

"Pathetic. On the floor where you belong." Slowly pulling back warily, the criminal retreated into the tiny entrance of the bar, shoving the crewman inside with a bash of the luggage upon the back of her head. Woji unslung the compression rifle from her back, aiming it upon her assaulter only to be tutted. "Uh uh. Wouldn't want your precious partner to die, would you?"

Tauntingly wiggling the control device from the palm which also carried the grey luggage, Zhea clicked her tongue. "Typical of Starfleet. Sending idiots to do a professional's job." As the door to the bar opened in her presence, traffic loudly blared, deafening the scene. Whirring klaxons ragged the air, as the Orion female looked upwards behind her.

Bereft of hesitation, the Tellarite took the opportunity to shove the butt of her rifle into the Orion's chest, knocking the disruptor clear as the other palm sagged. She dove out of the way, attempting to catch the pistol and obedience mechanism, eyes flaring. "Doctor move!" Her warning was too late. Metal tore into the plastoid walls as an explosion ripped the air outside. Glass sprayed in from the doorway, the obscured silhouette of a hovercraft crushing the bar owner beneath it. Woji was knocked away from the wreck, deeper into the now-closed off bar.

Above the roof groaned, strained by parts of the hull weighing down upon it. Whatever form of passenger transport had crashed into the building was threatening to take it with it. The security officer coughed as clouds of debris and dust smothered the air. Crawling away from the entrance, she pulled the rifle back to her side, pocketing the device. "Doctor. DOCTOR!"

Ryan had pulled the other man under the table at the first warning. He was coughing, and struggling to get at his medical kit, which was caught half under rubble. “Here!” He called out, coughing more.

Closing another metre before she drew the confidence to shuffle upon her legs, the crewman looked at the device in a stir of panic. She pressed her stubby fingers upon three of the buttons, attempting to deactivate the collar, resulting only in increased screams of agony before she smacked it against the floor plating. At last the electro-conditioning buzzed and faded, the control display glitching before it finally gave way. Frustrated she pocketed it again. "Frakking green-skins."

Grumbling the short-snout female coughed again, as another spark nipped from the wall. A familiar shimmer welcomed them as a hologram flickered into view...a Ferengi of all things. "What is your hospitality need to---. Well, isn't this just great?" Lacking introductions, nor the situation for them as it barely held itself together, the flickering hologram looked between the three living beings, one curled its legs into its chest beneath the doctor which struggled at retrieving his gear. Woji, who already had her rifle at the ready.

The Ferengi-hologram swept the room with a bio-scan, shaking his head. "You hoo-man. Where is the mistress?" Walking around as it followed the debris, it pulled back in a distinct wail. It appeared to have spotted its owner. Or at least what was left of her, so far as they could discern. "Not good. Not good. Hooman. At least two samples of her blood." His voice began pitching with dread, as its personality shifted from composed to a translucent worry.

"The Syndicate will be here soon no doubt. They'll want to execute the slave for failing to protect its mistress. The business will be closed. Think. Think. Yes! Follow Emergency Protocol 00-1A, Zhea. Use the blood samples to determine next of kin. Yes, yes. Good good. This isn't part of my normal programming." As the Ferengi began rattling off ideas through a mimicked hyperventilation, Woji snorted as she made her way over to the doctor, rifle still held broadly.

As she neared, the slave cringed, mewling weakly as audible crying momentarily filled the air. "Please! Don't hurt me," the male uttered, each word beginning to fail with strength as it used one weakened arm to drag itself beneath one of the counters. Wrapping itself into a tightened fetal position, it began to rock back and forth.

"Shut the hell up and be useful," Woji snapped, looking at the Orion slave as she pointed the rifle at it. "Because of you we may have just failed our mission, so make yourself useful or I'll get rid of you myself." Squinting at the warped collar wrung tautly upon his neck she shook her head. "Frakking slave collars. Impossible to get off without an engineer. Tampering only makes them worse, and they block transporters. Which rules beaming out. Even if we could, the damn thing is probably rigged to explode."

Ryan, finally managed to get his gear free , took a deep breath. “Put your weapon down. “ He grabbed a hypo out of his bag and showed the slave. “Just a pain killer all right. There’s nothing I can do about the collar I’m sorry.” At least the thing was no longer shocking the poor man. Ryan grabbed his bag and stood up, wincing as he put weight on his legs. “I need to check on the rest, but I’ll be back.”

The Ferengi hologram started pacing back and forth, worriedly thinking open worries of losing finances and the business. His tone escalated in panic as it thought aloud, looking at the only visible part of his owner. An arm, nearly disembodied given rubble completely covered the rest. “Think. Think, think. The Syndicate will be here in little more than an hour, if not sooner. They’ll see the business wrecked. Shut it down as they scrap all evidence. Then they’ll deactivate me. Permanently.”

Woji stood watch, snorting as the doctor ordered her to lower her weapon. She obeyed. Limitedly, if only by a technicality of a single degree lower. “Don’t care doctor. Orions are nothing but issues. Let their damn pheromones get to you and you’re as good as lost. Add the marauding on the trade lanes and they’re just a scourge on society. One more lost is just a gain for us.” The slave whimpered as the T
ellarite glared at him. “You better have something useful for us. Or I’m as good as convinced of discharging this rifle.”

Ryan was busy bashing a chair to use the wood as splints for a broken arm a few feet away, but paused at her ranting. “Woji! He’s a sentient being who’s been through hell. Leave him be.”

“It’s a slave. Orion slaves don’t have identities unless they earn them. This one clearly hasn’t. So it’s useless to us. May as well blast it, unless it comes up with something quickly. I’m losing my patience.” Gripping the trigger as she fumed, the Ferengi wailed once more.

“STOP! One more discharge could cause this place to come down,” the hologram attempted to calm the situation.

“Woji for Pete’s sake.” Ryan had to come back to put himself between her weapon and the slave. “What do you think he knows?”

Squinting at the doctor, the Tellarite lowered the weapon, if only for refusing to fire on a colleague. At last, hoping to break the immediate hostility, the Ferengi spoke. "It's a slave. Doubtful for anything. But Zhea always kept him close. Slave. What have you heard?"

No answer came from the Orion, instead only the trembling intensified as the echo of sobbing wretched from its stomach. A trail of molten amber ichor had seeped beneath the physician's boots, down from behind. "Uhh...doctor? You're leaking. Did you just --" The Ferengi wailed again, screaming a sole word. Blood.

“Shit.” Ryan dropped. The orion had been bleeding, the wound hidden at his lower back. Ryan’s hands were soon covered in deep orange blood, but the damage was too severe, and the man had been so weak.

"Pig-head. Get the mistress's samples. Hoo-man, do something about that mess. Green-skin's gone and placed itself between a war zone and a makeover gone wrong." The specialist glared at the hologram, bitterly snorting as she dropped the rifle muttering a dry warning of having her eye on the others as she dug into the medical kit. Squinting, the Ferengi sighed, leaning down next to the blond foreigner. "Turn the light off already, would you?"

A sole finger was held up as it shielded its eyes from the glare, pausing. "Or...the metal." It said, beginning to poke at a shard of shrapnel embedded in the victim's side. Colour drained from the Orion's already pale complexion, a loose hand beginning to slip from the area it'd been clutching as the viscous amber fluid thickly coated both the interior and exterior of its palm.

Rolling the man back over, Ryan put pressure on the wound. “Grab my bag.” It was just out of reach from where he’d knelt to deal with the bleeding. Once he had his bag, he fumbled one handed for what he needed. With the small laser scalpel he made an incision, then dislodged the shrapnel. He had no suitable way of sterilising the wound, not with all the dust and debris, and overall filth in the area. All he could do was stop the bleeding and close the man up. “We need to get back to the runabout.” Ryan looked over the shattered bar. Those that had been nearest the entrance were red, but the rest seemed yellow or green. There was also no way out in that direction.

Fishing through debris, the Tellarite had her own problems to deal with as she attempted to quell the hologram. It wasn’t clean, nor was it a medical professional’s work, but somehow the security officer had filled two vials with blood as she was instructed. Vexed and ready for the away mission to be over, she turned around, searching for her rifle as she slid the bag to the doctor. “I have the samples,” she snapped, looking at the hologram pointedly. It beamed at her, sharp teeth bared with immense satisfaction. “You did that just so I wasn’t holding the weapon, didn’t you?”

“A Ferengi never sells his secrets without a profit,” the hologram retorted, deactivating itself as she returned to the physician’s side.

“It alive? Or are we wasting precious time?” Woji asked, opening the bag as she held the inventory out for easy access. She peered at the collar of the slave who flinched as she neared. “Alive. If barely. Looks like a UH model. Expensive. We will need a specialist for that. Something to worry about later.”

Ryan closed his eyes and took a breath. Starfleet personnel, being openly xenophobic and outright hostile. What had things come to? He didn’t bother to argue with her about ‘he’ vs ‘it’. It wouldn’t help save the man’s life. He gently picked up the man, and put him in a fireman’s carry, grunting as it put pressure on his ribs, but there was nothing for it. “There’s probably a way out the back.” Ryan headed that way.

At last rising to her feet, the crewman begrudgingly cooperated, slinging the rifle over her shoulder. “Want me to carry him?”

“No crewman, you’ve done enough.” Ryan held his patient protectively.

“We should probably look for something useful on our way out. Not sure why you’re bothering bringing him.” Without commenting much further, she cleared a small pile of rubble away from the bar to clear a path behind it before pulling the curtain back. A solid oof came from her as a metallic thud vibrated. “Found a door,” Woji called. “Slave may come in handy. It has a bio-lock. Get one of his fingers up there.”

Ryan had noticed the man was right-handed earlier, so gently placed the man’s right index finger to the lock. Luckily, that did the trick, and the door opened.
They were in a hurry, so Ryan looked around quickly, not able to do much but look, while carrying the injured Orion. “Check the ice maker in the freezer.” It was where his father had always hidden anything valuable, usually his drugs. Seemed like an appropriate place for a syndicate leader as well.

Stumbling around, the Tellarite coughed as the dust from the earlier room slowly permeated, mixing the atmospheres. She looked around quickly, checking what appeared to be the closest equivalent of a kitchen which of all things considered given the planet’s state wasn’t that bad. If anything, it was clean. Or probably would have been prior to the crash. Disappearing into the icebox for a quick look, she emerged shrugging. “Rotting vegetables, but I found a bag of ice crystals.” Wrapping it underneath her shoulder, she continued her search, waddling as quick as she was able given she’d become the carryall.

After nearly six minutes had passed, the escort finally emerged from the office with a grin on her face. “Found a safe. I can’t open it, but how much would you like to bet someone we know can, back on the ship. Even better, I found a cart.” Tugging at the wheeled surface, she pulled it before laying it in front of the doctor as she slid the black luggage onto the lower shelf.

With the safe in Woji’s hands, and their patient in Ryan’s, they quickly made their way back to the runabout. It said something about the planet that their appearance didn’t so much as cause a second glance. Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as the runabout came into sight and hurried his pace. With an exhausted heave which probably wasn’t good for his patient, but was all he could manage, Ryan got their patient onto one of the bio beds.

Crewman Rayes met them on the dock, his expression all too relieved before fading white upon seeing an injured being carried along with a fresh batch of cargo coming aboard. The escort angrily stormed into the cockpit along with him, launching the runabout and soon leaving the dreaded affair behind.

 

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