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Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

[PO3 Lillee t’Jellaieu | Gallli Forum | vh'Jann | Romulus ] Attn: @chXinya @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @P.C. Haring

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It was late morning in the city of vh'Jann. A chilly bite was still in the air from the previous evening, making the drizzle all the more irksome to the unfortunate people stuck outdoors. In the miserable weather, it was easy to tell the locals from the outsiders; the former went about their day without comment or complaint, while the latter were comically bundled up in heavy layers, grumbling all the while. Even millennia after leaving Vulcan, the Romulan people still preferred the dry heat and abhorred the humid cold.

In one of vh'Jann's many forums, nestled inside a ring of ornate skyscrapers, business was slow. Some orators and shopkeeps braved the rain to ply their trade, with two orators in particular having an impassioned debate on a raised platform in the center of the forum. The spectating crowd was thin, however, as the same old topics were discussed; civil war against the rebel Donatra, war with the Federation, the news that a Klingon armada was massing on the border, the Reman rebellion. As alarming as it all was, such events seemed very distant indeed to the average citizen of vh'Jann. They had their own lives, their own troubles and drama. Romulus was safe, just like it had always been. The idea of Federation, Klingon or even rebel ships reaching the Hearthworlds was preposterous.

At least, so thought one bored shopkeep, Kani, sat in her stall as she made a futile effort to catch the eye of the occasional passerby. She sighed, idly wondering whether she should just give up for the day. Selling tailored winter clothing was only a hobby, a way to keep busy during the off-season. Parvek should really be doing this, the ungrateful brat didn't do enough-

Kani's line of thought was broken when she heard a distinctive whine from the alley behind her stall, muffled by the rain. She frowned; that had sounded like a transporter beam, but...no, it was nothing like a normal transporter beam. Kani struggled to remember where she had heard that sound before, then she got it: Betazed during the war, when Starfleet troops had reinforced her platoon.

After a moment's thought, Kani chuckled to herself. Her imagination really was wild today; she probably just heard a miscalibrated shuttle engine. After all, the idea of a Starfleet infiltration team beaming in to the alley behind her, on Romulus of all worlds, was just ridiculous.



Unseen and unnoticed, the Starfleet infiltration team looked around nervously after materialising, only relaxing marginally when it was clear that they were alone. All of them looked Romulan with appropriate clothing, though of the four, only Lillee actually was what she appeared to be, though with her unusual blonde hair, even she would stick out in a crowd. She hastily pulled up her hood's cloak over her head to protect from the rain and shivered.

"I hate the north," she grumbled as she began searching the alley. It only took a moment for the team to find it: an inocuous garbage collection panel on a skyscraper wall with a big green sticker on it, declaring: Out Of Order: Tampering Is Prohibited By Order Of The State.. The sticker was technically accurate, as the garbage collection was indeed out of order, but it was actually designed to be so. The "garbage collection" was, in fact, a clandestine Tal Shiar surveillance access point, discovered by Starfleet Intelligence some years ago.

With it, the team could access Tal Shiar surveillance data for the entire city, although only if their computer expert could access it. A great deal rested on Selena's skills. The others, meanwhile, could do little but wait. One thing caught everyone's eye, however, high up, among the skyscrapers above their heads, slung beneath a great pylon. Even amidst the grey clouds and drizzling rain, it was distinctive: a huge grey saucer, broken and scarred with damage, with two long nacelles behind it. The lettering was legible even from a hundred meters down:

NX-05
CHALLENGER


"It was captured during our war with Earth," Lillee explained to the others. "It's a trophy now, and a museum. A good one, speaking true."

Re: Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

Reply #1
[PO2 Kino Jeen | Gallli Forum | vh'Jann | Romulus ] Attn: @chXinya @Ellen Fitz @P.C. Haring @Griff
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“I'm sure it is,” Kino muttered as she moved past the Romulan pilot to take up a flanking position beside the data terminal, a shoulder leaned against the wall. From under the hood of a similarly colored cloak, her eyes never ceased moving; she watched the crowd, the few pedestrians that shuffled by, the windows, the doors, the piles of refuse and canisters that lined the alley – while she spoke. “It’s funny, really. We build monuments to remember the fallen and celebrate achievements while the rest of the galaxy builds museums out of bloody trophies. Says something about us, doesn’t it,” the Trill whispered bitterly.

Not that it really mattered. To her mind, Starfleet and the Federation had never grown the teeth they should have, and that wasn’t likely to change – no matter how many times the galaxy told them differently; no matter how much blood was spilled in the name of ‘peaceful exploration’.

Letting the matter lie, Kino breathed deep of Romulus, then exhaled a mist of foggy breath; an attempt to calm her nerves. This entire affair sat uneasy upon her shoulders; they had gone in blind, scrambling to intel, trying to figure things out as they went. Only a matter of time till this all goes sideways, she thought with a slight shiver. The rain was cold, greased with the subtle particulates from the overhead traffic of skimmers and sky cars. Up high, banners of the State, Kino assumed, rippled in the wind; everywhere she looked in fact seemed adorned with the proud symbol of Romulan supremacy – flags adorned windows – broadcast holovids flickered with images of Imperial might. It was quite a sight.

Kino also noticed surveillance nodes, adorned on every corner, on multiple levels; they panned about intermittently – no doubt controlled by a centralized agency of some sort. Tal’Shiar, maybe, she mused as her cybernetic eye locked onto one up above the far end of the alley, a couple dozen meters up, directed down at the orators doing their best to out speak one another. Crossing her arms against the cold, the non-com jutted her chin up at it after glancing at the others.

“Those nodes are everywhere, probably covering almost every angle of the city. We’re gonna have eyes on us eventually,” Kino warned, flicking a stray strand of silver hair behind one ridiculously overgrown ear. The attempt to alter her physical appearance didn’t sit well with her either – but it wasn’t any different from shmearing grease over her face during night operations. Camo is camo, the non-com sighed mentally; her hair had been grown out to hang past her shoulders, plaited in a few thin strands in some remote rural native style. They had wanted her to dye it black, but she’d told the medical stooge to pound sand; they’d stretched her fucking ears out and covered up her spots – that was enough. She felt like a clown, surrounded by potential hostiles, on their turf, with fuck all of a plan.

Yeah, this’ll work out fine. It’s fine, Kino chuckled to herself. The twin disruptor pistols holstered at the small of her back shifted as she crossed one ankle over the other, attempting to appear calm and casual. “Whatever you’re doing, I’d recommend you do it faster,” Kino spoke quietly without moving her lips over her shoulder to their Romulan tech expert, then returned her attention to watching their backs, and everything that moved.

Re: Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

Reply #2
[Lt. Commander Hathev  | Gallli Forum | vh'Jann | Romulus ] Attn: @chXinya@Ellen Fitz@Griff@Dumedion‍ 

Hathev took in a breath as the transporter beam released her and immediately she took in the scent of the rain in the Romulan air.  The precipitation remained light but for whatever reason, the Vulcan did not seem to mind the moisture in the air.  In fact, a part of her relished in it and just how different it was from the hot arid weather of Vulcan.  She remained silent, focusing on t’Jellaieu’s narration about the NX-05.  It seemed illogical to her that the Empire would still celebrate the capture of an enemy vessel more than two centuries after the original occurrence.

But, she suspected, that was the way state based propaganda worked.  Focus on every victory no matter how obscure.  Ignore every set back no matter how significant.

How very Romulan.

Much to her surprise, the architecture caught her eye as well.  She had heard that Romulan design was considered ascetically pleasing, but Hathev had not been able to comprehend the logic behind design that followed no function.  But as she took it in, locked it in her eidetic memory, she realized she appreciated the detail that went into the design work.

She made a point to say nothing in response to the commentary about the NX-05, and focused instead on the task at hand.  At the mention of the surveillance nodes, Hathev almost reached for her Tricorder, but stopped herself as doing so would have looked suspicious…but at least then there would have been a reason for the five of them to be congregating at a place that was marked “Out of Order” and explicitly forbade tampering.

“Would it make sense for us to split up.  The five of us standing here is likely to attract unwanted attention.”

Re: Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

Reply #3
[PLt. Selena Ravenholm | Gallli Forum | vh’Jann | Romulus] attn: @P.C. Haring @Dumedion @Griff

As soon as the transporter beam let go and the first raindrops splattered onto her face, Selena glanced up in annoyance at the weather. Of course the transporter operator had warned them about the storm so she knew what to expect, but it was still frustrating. Quickly pulling the hood of the dark grey cloak she had thrown on over her lengthened black hair, the woman turned her attention to a quick scan of the alleyway they’d beamed down into. If the reports of the grey architecture weren’t being exaggerated it was hard to tell the way the dim lighting and precipitation just sucked all the color out of everything that wasn’t a light source. That wasn’t what her enhanced vision was looking for though, after switching spectrums and overlaying an energy scan numerous devices popped up out of the grey dullness. Cameras for the most part, all linked to a central transmitter up on a nearby roof. The others were already commenting on the environment around them, and at Kino’s comment about the surveillance, Selena could only nod in agreement. “Assuming they’re not already on us. As energy dense as a city will be, it’s not quite that easy to hide a transporter signal if they’re looking for it.”

Which is where her skills came into play. It was no coincidence that they materialized right next to the control panel for this section’s surveillance network. Stepping up to the “garbage bin”, Selena’s now flesh-wrapped hand found the hidden control pad and slid it open, revealing the old-yet-still military-grade keypad underneath. Retrieving the small tricorder out of a pocket in her cloak she stood close to the bin to hide her actions from the cameras and started her work to slip into the system. Kino was already griping about the time which brought a furrow to the tech expert’s still-smooth forehead. “Keep your ears glued on, this’ll only take a minute. Just need to make sure I don’t trigger any alerts.” Hathev had some ideas of her own about how big the group should be and Selena chimed in there as well, “Might as well, but I need someone to stand roughly two meters between me and that gutter over there.” She pointed to the rainspout running out of a metal gutter that had been broken off halfway up the wall. “It’ll keep the camera next to it from seeing exactly what I’m doing.”

Watching the cracking program run on the smalls screen, Selena tapped a few subprograms into the queue every so often as the automated security protocols started sniffing for a rat, but she had plenty of cheese to keep those occupied. Thanks to the older, known, protocols this particular access point ran off of, it took just less than the promised minute and she was in. Quickly inserting the pre-made malware Selena smiled as the system’s logs promptly rewrote themselves into a series of nothing but empty, rainy alleyway. “Tch, I expected better out of the Tel Shiar.” she chided the famed intelligence service, uploaded the final programs, then withdrew from the computer.  Pocketing the tricorder and closing the panel cover she turned to face Lillee. “All done here, unless someone happened to actually see us beam in there’s no record of it. As for our own eyes and ears, I can slip into the system whenever I want. I’ll have to be careful with how much I use it though, the more often I slip in the more likely it’ll be they’ll notice the intrusion.”

Re: Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

Reply #4
[PO2 Kino Jeen | Galli Forum | vh’Jann | Romulus] Attn: @P.C. Haring @Griff @chXinya @Ellen Fitz
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Blue eyes, one brighter than the other, traced up along the contoured edges and curved high-rise buildings. The tallest ones, near the tight-packed city center, stood half-obscured by the misty clouds and gray rain, but patches of veiled blue shone through the soft deluge; a promise of better weather to come. The non-com’s features softened then, her gaze locked heavenward. The fact of the matter was, she didn’t want to be on Romulus. Kino wanted to be out there, with Reika; to know she was okay.

Be safe, her lips moved silently, almost imperceptibly. Distant thunder shook her back to the present with a blink. Focus, the Trill chided herself as a brow twitched at the Vulcan’s suggestion for the group to split up. The non-com considered it as their tech expert worked. If they were all familiar with the cities layout, they could cover more ground and potentially avoid unwanted attention. However, after weighing the cons, Kino shook her head subtly, uncomfortable with the risks. Her eyes narrowed at Ravenholm’s quip and suppressed the instinctive reaction to check her ears. Jeen bit back the snappy retort on the tip of her tongue and re-focused her attention on their surroundings instead. 

“I’d advise against it, for now. Best we stay together until we find a base of operations, transport, get the lay of the land,” the non-com murmured without looking at any of them, her voice barely audible over the rain. “Worst case scenario; we split and scatter only under duress,” her head nodded to the speaker square. “Rendezvous back there if we can, bug out to the Allegiant if we can’t.”

When Ravenholm announced she was finished, Kino kicked off the wall she’d been leaning on to casually walk out into the rain, her eyes constantly in motion. “Shouldn’t linger then. Let’s take a walk, stay casual, keep our ears open,” she shrugged. “Not much of a crowd around the speakers, but we can try there, or hit the market?” 

The rain decided to let up then, as bright beams of sunlight glittered in the air. Kino waited for someone in the group to make a call, while she slowly turned in casual vigilance. The rain-slick structures around them took on new shifts of color in the sunlight; subtle at first, then brightly shimmered in various hues of green. It was beautiful, in a way, but also bleak and dark as only densely packed centers of civilizations tended to be.

Towers rose above lesser kindred, which squatted atop mounds of their lesser kin, which in turn were crushed into a labrynth of massed habitation towers, industrial complexes, trade centers; all built atop the other, linked and threaded with endless avenues, alley-ways…

Movement caught her attention, in the shadows of one.

The Trill’s eyes met those of a Reman, blinked, then turned back to the group with a forced smile.

“Que the creepy attention we didn't want," Kino drawled sarcastically. "We’ve been noticed. Let’s move.”

Havrannssu abhor daylight,” the pilot, Lillie, Kino reminded herself, whispered after she drew near - having also noticed the Reman, apparently. “This is known. Being there, at this hour...its odd. He looked wounded, too - perhaps..." the Romulan's voice trailed off. Kino couldn't read the look in her eyes to be sure, but it sounded as if the pilot was suggesting they try to help him somehow.

The Trill shook her head and gently pulled the pilot into step alongside. “Yeah, I saw. Looked like someone did a number on ‘em, but that doesn’t mean squat – Lorad’s lived through shit that would kill you and me ten times over,” Kino muttered as they walked, making their way towards the throng of people in and around a multi-street marketplace, lined with stalls of merchants flogging their wares. “Could be nothin’,” the Trill shrugged, “could be trouble we don’t want. Either way, we should be able to lose him in the crowd,” Kino guessed, with a glance to Lillie and the others.

[Meanwhile, a few minutes earlier...]

The blood in Tiramek's throat gurgled as he struggled to gasp in much needed air. The bastards had thought they'd ended him, but Remans were notoriously difficult to kill. There had been no official insignia on their clothes, nothing to connect them to either Donatra or Tal'Aura, but Tiramek knew the thugs had to have been working for either one of those bitches.

With a taloned hand clutched over the wound in his side, Tiramek used the other to brace against the alley wall, pulling his weakened body back to its feet. If they'd managed to determine his role in the reunification movement enough to get a hit on him, then it was likely the movement itself had a mole. Which made it equally likely that the very head of their movement, the senator himself, could be a target.

Tiramek groaned, spitting out blood and bits of his own cheek he'd bitten during the assassination attempt. He had the advantage here. They thought he was dead, meaning they wouldn't be watching their backs before reporting back to their handler. Glancing at his chronometer, Tiramek swore. He'd been out for twenty minutes. While his injuries subdued his normally heightened senses allowing for superior tracking, Tiramek took comfort in knowing he'd managed to plant a tracker on the ankle on one of his attacker's during the ordeal, and wounded the other with a slice across the face before going down.

Not knowing who in their own movement was the mole meant he would have to attempt this counter measure alone. Tiramek groaned again, feeling another rush of blood seep at the edges of his side wound. First, he'd need to get patched up, then...

Tiramek narrowed his gaze, staring at the small group mingling at the end of the narrow alley. Standing in the shadows, it'd be easy to miss Tiramek, just as it'd be easy to miss the alley itself. However, as the rains subsided, finally, to give way with the bright sun, he could easily see them and in the next few moments a strange smile cracked the serious lines of his face as he realized this group could prove most useful.

Having friends in high places meant he was never without means of bribery. Not wanting to draw more attention to himself, Tiramek managed to convince a young shop girl to be his tail on the group with the intention of telling them where to meet him. It'd taken some convincing that his ominous "or else you've been had" was meant for the group and not for the girl and under any other circumstances it may have been comical how their discourse turned sideways but soon enough she understood and trotted off after the group.

Tiramex turned away and still using the alley wall to bolster his weight, fairly slid back down the length of it, further into the shadows of the shanty side of the city where he knew he could find resources and rest. At least until his next move…

[Meanwhile, near tertiary entrance to vh’Jann Trade District]

As for the girl, she was delighted to have made a decent amount for acting as courier and was looking forward to the sweet steamed bun reward she promised herself once she delivered the message. Eagerness emboldened her as she weaved in and around the crowd, in dutiful pursuit. They moved like tourists; at weird times, at an odd pace, like they were utterly lost or didn’t care where they were going. Once close enough, she tugged on the hem of the blonde woman, the most normal looking in her eyes, but drew the attention of all four nearly instantly; she wasted no time and delivered her message in a rapid spill – without a care for its comprehension – then darted away, faster and lither than most would expect upon seeing her.

Kino arched a brow as she drew close to Lillie. “Uh, the hell was that about,” the Trill asked, somehow blending concern with amusement. The only true Romulan among them frowned as she met each of their eyes in a glance that could have meant anything, but to Kino, it looked a lot like fear.

"Roughly translated, the girl said: ‘there's a bar in the shanty town called Tholob. If you want support for your work and protection from the watchers, you should go there within the hour. We may have similar interests to support one another. If you aren't there, you've been had.’ Which means, well, we might be already."

Kino grunted a curse under her breath then quickly reigned her attitude in – it wasn’t helping. They were all on edge, and now wasn’t the time to fly off the handle. “Could be a trap; certainly sounds like a trap – perfect bait, and all,” Kino offered neutrally, then returned her attention to the crowd to watch and wait for them to decide how to proceed.


OOC: Our new (maybe?) friend, Tiramek, written by @Ellen Fitz  - thanks for the collab and inspiration, as always :)

Re: Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

Reply #5
[Lt. Commander Hathev  | Road to Tholob | Romulus ] Attn:  @chXinya@Ellen Fitz@Griff@Dumedion‍ 

By all appearances, Hathev kept to herself as the away team moved through the streets, but as the ever astute Vulcan-disguised-as-a-Romulan, the Counselor was busy observing with every sense the environment around her.  As she expected, even in the so called ‘shanty town’ there existed a sense of order and discipline.  After all, on Romulus, the Tal Shiar was everywhere, anywhere, and nowhere all at once.

Yet as they entered Tholob the settlement did seem a bit more run down than she would have otherwise expected and she found herself unsettled.  But was not what she saw that unsettled her… no.  That was not it, she determined.  The source of her discomfort came from what she was hearing.

The dialect old, almost ancient, dating back…almost two millennia.  Rarely used but one she had studied.  The grammar and syntax was wrong, clearly spoken by self taught amateurs, but given the words she was able to glean, it made sense they’d use such an old language, especially in this part of Romulus.  Anyone who could properly translate it was either sequestered by the Tal Shiar or studying on Vulcan.

…or a Starfleet officer infiltrating Romulus.

The Vulcan drifted to the side of the group, moving her ear closer to the distinct but hushed tones of the two people speaking to one another.  They kept their cloaks over their heads and Hathev made no attempt to identify them.  She walked past them as they spoke in the ancient language, not used on Vulcan or Romulus since the proto-Romulan exodus almost two millennia prior.  A meter past where they stood, a junk dealer had set up a stall and was looking for anyone to patronize his wares.  Hathev obliged. 

The dealer seemed happy enough and started talking up his garbage.  Hathev picked through some of the offerings, making a show of examining them, but truly there was nothing of any value beyond the opportunity turn her back on the conversation while listening in.  It was difficult to fully understand the context, but as she picked out words and interpreted tones and expressions, a logical, if not disturbing, picture.  As soon as politeness dictated, she returned the junk to the vendor and excused herself to catch up with the away team.

“We may have a problem,” she said, ensuring her voice was loud enough to be heard by her companions, and no one else as they walked.  “We must seek privacy immediately.”

Re: Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

Reply #6
[ General Terrh Jeiai | Internal Security Division Offices | Citadel Val’Theldun  | Romulus ] ATTN: @chXinya  @P.C. Haring  @Griff  @Dumedion

Not that he was a religious man, but if he had been, Terrh Jeliai would've felt particularly favored by the gods on this day. Not only had an old enemy resurfaced in Avra Trel, but incoming reports from around the vh’Jann region denoted something more than a little suspicious. Especially with the sudden reappearance of young tr'Aimne when, according to reports, he'd been killed on Qo'Nos during a reconnaissance mission. That plus the earlier reports of an unauthorized ship entry into their atmosphere that conveniently seemed to disappear over the ocean and Terrh couldn't help but smirk with delight. He loved a good puzzle and it seemed this one was being gift wrapped for him.

Having already alerted his aide to send a task force to Avra Trel to apprehend tr'Aimne and anyone with him, all to be taken to the Citadel for "questioning," so preferably alive though not necessarily in one piece, it was without much further effort that Terrh called for his aide to send another task force to investigate the oddities in the vh'Jann region. There was no need to go in hot and heavy. In due time, they would reveal themselves, making it that much easier for him to snatch them back to the Citadel.

He hadn't sacrificed his family and very nearly his own life to rise in the ranks of the Tal'Shiar for nothing. He aimed to not only keep the power he currently had but to increase it. He'd long eyed the Praetor's seat with envy, and with the current civil war dividing the people between "Empress" Donatra and Tal'Aura, well, it wouldn't be too difficult to tip the scale in his own favor with some well-timed discoveries.


GM note: the joint SP, which we can make our next major chapter thread since everyone wants to do it, technically takes place anytime after 8am. So let's try to wrap this up so we can get on to the torture at the Citadel!

Re: Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

Reply #7
[PLt. Selena Ravenholm | Road to Tholob | vh’Jann | Romulus] attn: @Ellen Fitz @P.C. Haring @Dumedion @Griff

Wandering around a marketplace wasn’t Selena’s first choice of a good time, but at least the sights were new, which was always exciting. She stuck with the group, doing her best to keep to a similar pace and avoid the appearance of a cadet review when cross traffic forced a stop. For her part, the cyborg continued to use her artificial vision to map out energy sources distribution, hoping that the motion of her head was more along the lines of someone interested in the local architecture. Cameras were ever-present, at least one in view at all times, and the busier intersections had entire clusters of them. The vh’Jann Trade District ahead was awash in power signals, even at a close distance it was just one big blur of false-colors that reminded her of that one night in a Syndicate bar. Blinking her eyes back to normal vision, Selena just resigned herself to trusting her earlier hack to get a warning to her tricorder in time should an alert go out.

The weather continued to improve amazingly, the sunlight starting to restore the colors that were hidden underneath all that grey. To the human’s surprise, there was a surprising green tint to the ancient stonework that most structures here were made from, and at the ground level simple signage noted different shops, a few food stalls, and other establishments. Curiously, there was very little in the way of visual advertising other than basic pictures or the goods themselves laid out on display. Quite drab and disappointing, even a Vulcan would scoff at the lack of artistry in their mercantile craft… she mused to herself.

Noticing Hathev stopping at a junk stall to play window shopper, Selena hung back a bit to stay nearby while the rest kept going. Since her own pointed ears were fake she could only watch out of the corner of her eye, instead making it look like she was reading a larger sign mounted to a wall just outside of an alcove, an uninteresting bit of state propaganda reminding the citizens to “Hold to the glory of the Empire” whatever that meant. As soon as her Vulcan compatriot started moving again Selena fell into step next to her, both catching the others at the same time. Nearby, a young Romulan girl was sprinting away, the human woman guessing she was late for school or something like that.

Hathev and Kino’s statements were not exactly what she was expecting to hear so soon though, the news about a girl saying something to them drawing her attention to where she saw the probably-truant one racing off, but she was already gone. Hathev’s news wasn’t much better, not that they expected there not to be problems. “That was shockingly fast. Where do we want to go, shadowy alleyway or tavern with shadowy corners? I vote bar, at least we can get a drink.”

Re: Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

Reply #8
[PO3 Lillee t’Jellaieu | Tholob District | vh'Jann | Romulus ] Attn: @chXinya @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @P.C. Haring

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Lillee, still keeping her hood up and her cloak tight against the chill, was silent as the group walked to the shanty town along the main street. It was a disconcertingly short walk from the skyscrapers of the affluent city centre to the dwellings of the impoverished, and the difference was startling. Shops became increasingly infrequent, with some even being closed entirely, their doors bearing a large symbol: a great raptor, claws splayed wide, ready to strike. There was more on other buildings; homes, apparments, even schools and medical facilities, all looking increasingly older and run-down. More notably, the further they went into the shanty town, the more raptors they saw.

"It is the war-mark," Lillee explained as they went. "When the Empire goes to war, reservists who are called up to the military put the war-mark on the doors of their property, to warn off thieves and enemies while they are away. The criminal penalty for those who commit crimes against these buildings is severe. Public execution, usually. Those who put up false war-marks receive much worse punishments."

She kept her hands inside her wet cloak, close to her weapons, feeling the (hopefully) imagined eyes of the enemy on her at every turn. The injured Reman lingered in her thoughts; had he detected the transport? Selena's hacking of the surveillance system? How had he found them so fast? Who did he work for? Remans, especially free Remans, were far from common in the major cities, though there was no law forbidding it. It was all far too unexpected, such that Lillee weighed simply convincing the others to abort the mission and beam back to the Allegiant. Still, even that was a risk; what if their transport was detected and tracked back to the ship?

Thus, her heart beating faster than normal, Lillee led the others deeper into Tholob. The wide main street was mildly populated with people of all ages and professions, all simply going about their day, heedless of the traitor, Trill, Vulcan and human walking right past them. Even a pair of armed police walked past them, going the opposite way, but were clearly exhausted and giving little thought to their surroundings.

Eventually though, as Kino and Hathev delivered their warnings, Lillee's fingers grasped her cloak even tighter. "Tavern," she answered brusquely, leading the way to an old three story building that looked promising. The building seemed well-maintained from the outside, better than the closed shops to either side of it, but unlike them, it bore no war-mark. The name emblazoned on the door was certainly memorable: "Sukok's Folly."

Entering first, Lillee took in the tavern at a glance; most of it was sectioned off, providing privacy to various tables, though the silence suggested that there was nobody there regardless. More, mercifully, the tavern was warm compared to the winter chill outside A young woman at the bar, surely no older than twenty, was watching a large wall-mounted viewscreen, fiddling idly with a tassel on her apron as she watched. Lillee did a double-take as she followed the girl's gaze, seeing Praetor Tal'aura's face as newscasters talked. The headline was less than cheerful: Praetor grants permission for warbirds to cross Neutral Zone and raid Federation space.

"Jolan tru," the girl said when she looked at the group, smiling automatically, though her confusion was evident. "It is early to be in a tavern, yes? It's not even midday yet."

Lillee, pulling her hood down, struggled to control her own nerves. "We just beamed in from Dhell," she said with a shrug, noting the girl's eyes widen at seeing the long blonde hair, then clear curiosity when looking at the other women behind Lillee. "It is twilight there, and we've been up since before long before Eisn rose above the hills."

The girl blinked. "And you came to vh'Jann? To Tholob, even? I've never seen anyone from Dhell in here, but that is your business. Ale?"

Re: Chapter 5 S [D02 | 0740 hrs.] We The Disgruntled

Reply #9
[PO2 Kino Jeen | Tholob District | vh'Jann | Romulus] Attn: @Ellen Fitz @P.C. Haring @Griff @chXinya
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Jeen nodded in agreement at Hathlev. Pretty much an understatement, she huffed weakly. Her eyes met Lillee's for a moment; a subtle shrug of one shoulder told the Romulan: what now? But the blonde quickly decided to make for the bar – which was better than idling out in the street. If it was a trap, at least they might discover more; either way, they were committed. When in doubt, move forward, the non-com told herself; the strategy had worked out well in the past, anyway.

It wasn’t a long walk. Kino took it all in, frowning slightly at the numerous ‘war-marks’, and what they represented. War, again, she shook her head, and these poor bastards don’t even have a clue who they’re really fighting for. She knew the same could be said of Starfleet, too, which pissed her off just as much.

Soon enough, they approached their destination.

Kino eyed the “tavern” skeptically as the others entered; it didn’t look like any bar she'd ever seen – nestled between rows of metal-clad shacks, all packed in on top of each other like haphazardly stacked shipping containers. Ramshackle stairs led all over the place as well, a labyrinth of dripping, grated paths that led who-knew-where. Neon signs glowed dimly even in the sunlight, more than a few of them malfunctioning, as if under powered or just in need of repairs. Altogether, to her mind, it fit perfectly as a stereotypical ‘slum’ or ‘ghetto’, save for the edifice of the tavern itself; the Trill-in-disguise nearly smirked, because it reminded her of an old, repurposed anti-air fortification. It was a literal brick, clearly more well-kept, crowned with comms antenna and the fused rotator couplings of two massive (but clearly absent) surface-to-air turrets.

She wondered how many such positions dotted the city, and how many were left functional – if it was what she thought it was, anyway. It stuck out like a sore thumb, bordered by shops at ground level, and what Jeen could only assume were living quarters stacked upon those. The ‘war-marks’ Lillee pointed out had diminished, somewhat, but the Trill spotted a few; most were tacked to doors or hung over makeshift windows. She wondered what the state of the Romulan economy was to allow such squalor; or had they simply found their way into one of the worst parts of town, a haven of the disenfranchised and the downtrodden?

Dunno what I was expecting – but it wasn’t…this.

Up on one or the higher levels, a scuffle broke out – three against one. Grunts of pain followed meaty slaps as they had at each other. No one seemed to notice or react at all.

Charming, Jeen snorted sarcastically, her attention returned to the few passer-bys on the street. No one seemed to be paying much attention to their group; they’d even passed a patrol without so much as a glance in their direction. The non-com wasn’t sure what to make of it all, but kept her guard up regardless. Everywhere she looked, amidst the decorations and holo-broadcasts, people just went about their lives under the gaze of the symbols of the State; quietly. All she heard over the drips of rain and bustle of the market was the distant sound of traffic mixed with loudspeaker announcements; commands, alerts, or just State propaganda on repeat? Kino was none the wiser. This place gives me the fucking creeps. Jaw clenched, she followed the others inside.

The scene within offered little relief. Kino took it in with a slow pan of her eyes; a bartender, female – two hunched figures in ragged work attire, Remans, she guessed, sulking in a shadowy corner – a few rows of unoccupied tables – beyond them, a group of four males huddled around a gaming table of some kind. A larger back room with booths, seemingly vacant. Two doors led further into the building, joints and seams rusted and discolored. The non-com positioned herself close to the door, angled so as to provide herself with the optimum line of sight to keep watch while appearing casual. Other than a few glances at their entrance, no one but the bartender seemed interested in them.

Her eyes narrowed at the Praetor’s holo-broadcast briefly, as Lillee spoke with the girl behind the bar. Kino shook her head subtly at the obvious offer to drink; she couldn’t handle the Romulan brews, and hoped Lillee was quick enough on her feet to improvise. The non-com busied herself by pulling the rain slicked hood down from her head, then shrugged the cloak off to shake out. At least it’s warmer in here, she inhaled, noting the scents of ale and food, tinged with dust and the countless bodies that had passed through; it almost reminded her of home, briefly – Earth, not Trill – the latter was far too uppity and enlightened for a dump like this. No, her mind flew back to Rio, or the bar-scenes of southwest North America, where she’d gotten into all kinds of shit only a few years ago, but now it seemed like another life.

Well, Jeen exhaled and made herself somewhat comfortable, now we wait, I guess.

From her peripheral, the bartender placed the few drinks that had been ordered, then leaned in close to the group. “Room is ready,” she whispered, and slid what looked like a key-card into view. “Take the lift at the end of the hall.” Kino’s brow rose in question, then took the card only after no one else moved. The girl leaned back, smiled, then returned her attention to the holo. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she spoke up, leaving them to their drinks.

Jeen leaned closer to the group. “Easy, finish your drinks,” she warned; no sense in getting excited, yet – even though her own heart rate was up. The discarded cloak was picked up and draped over one shoulder as she settled back to wait.

Should’ve had one, Kino sighed to herself.

[A few moments later…]

The ‘lift’ revealed itself as the group approached; a false section of wall built in between the entrances of what appeared to be restrooms. Kino fought the urge to snort at the overly clandestine theatrics and simply gestured for the others to enter first. She wanted the door, in case things went south. “Here,” she palmed the card into Ravenholm’s hand, keeping her voice low. “See if you can get anything off it – codes, whatever – might come in handy if we don’t like what we’re about to walk into.”

It was a tight fit for all of them, but once they’d entered, Kino followed and popped the tension from her neck with a series of audible clicks. Here goes nothin’, the Trill exhaled slowly with a roll of her shoulders. A beam of light clicked on overhead as the lift door closed; it passed over them in a stately sweep as the lift started.

Well, someone just scanned the shit out of us, Jeen sucked her teeth in annoyance, then swore under her breath. “Got a bad feeling about this,” she murmured, then turned her head over a shoulder to address the group. “When it starts, give each other room. Don’t bunch up – watch for corners and keep your eyes open – aim for the guts,” Kino patted her abdomen with a nod. “We’ll be fine,” she sighed, trying to sound convincing. “Just try to avoid close quarters if you can.”  It wasn’t exactly motivating, as far as pep talks went, and Kino realized Hathlev held seniority as the ranking officer, but she didn’t have a clue how well any of them would react to combat. Fuck sakes, just don’t shoot me, please, the non-com rolled her eyes.

The lift stopped and opened soon after.

Jeen stepped out into a dimly lit maintenance area, the walls packed with pipes; it was noticeably warmer and more humid than the tavern – the air hummed with active machinery. Her first instinct was to draw a weapon, but she fought that down. Whoever had scanned them would already know they were armed, anyway, and likely knew that they were not who they appeared to be. Play it cool, Kino, she told herself, eyes darting into every shadow; panning for threats. A central corridor led out of the room – a brick tunnel – which twisted off to the left. Kino led the group into it. Around the darkened corner, up a small flight of stairs, two bodies stood guard near a metallic red door, the color of old blood.

More theatrics, Jeen grit her teeth. Fucking Romulans…

The larger of the two, with a nasty blade wound cut across his face, sneered at his companion. “Look what we have here, D’Nal,” he chuckled, then turned back to meet Kino’s eyes with a tilt of his head. “You lost, little ones? Need a guide? I can show you back to my place for a better time, better pay,” he grinned. Jeen ignored the implied insult to focus her attention on his hands and body language instead; he wasn’t being very subtle about his intent – which is why she didn’t stop moving, but accelerated – just as he lunged with the knife pulled from his back.

He was fast, but Kino was faster.

The blade arm was caught in her hands, twisted, then snapped up at the elbow as she pivoted closer. A booted foot kicked out at a low angle to crunch sideways into the thug’s partner, which hit the sweet spot at his knee; it gave in with an audible snap. Kino spun the first goon by his arm to avoid the fist intended for her exposed ribs, then sliced a knife-edged hand out into a throat. The one with his knee shattered dropped, gagging, weapon discarded to clutch at his crushed windpipe. Jeen used the momentum of the strike’s backswing to cleanly disarm the blade, then pistoned a knee up into the Romulan’s gut, pivoted, and repeated the motion to his face as he bowled over, her free hand clutched in his greasy black hair. The thug wobbled, dazed, then ate her knee again, and again, and again, until he finally went limp.

Enough,”  a voice called, like gravel spilling down a mountain; obviously male, but unused to shouting.

Kino mushed the bloody mess away from her with a sneer, to let the Romulan’s blood-smeared face bounce off the door with a dull metallic thud. His ‘friend’ squirmed on the ground, trying to breathe. Jeen kicked his blade away, then turned her attention to the source of the voice.

A figure stood behind the group, obscured in shadow, but his eyes glowed faintly in the gloom.

“You seem to have handled two thorns in my side, for that, I am appreciative,” the figure inclined it’s head, “yet you risk much,” it warned, then stepped into the dim overhead light with its arms raised, palms open, clearly devoid of weapons. “If you would lower your arms, I believe we might benefit from a conversation in a calmer, more private, environment.”

“Oh yeah?” Kino panted, “and who the fuck are you?”

The figure lowered the hood from his head, revealing a Reman, the Reman, the one from the alleyway.

“You may know me as Tiramex,” he answered with a flash of fangs, then tilted his head at them. “Welcome to Romulus. Follow, please,” a hand twitched. “Time is short, we must not linger – they know you’re here, but they don’t know where, not yet.”

“And them,” Jeen scoffed, nodding to their would-be attackers.

The Reman only shrugged as he turned and walked away. “There are far more important matters to discuss, Petty Officer,” he answered ominously. “Make haste, the others are waiting,” he called, as another false wall opened at his approach, to flood the tunnel with the lights and sounds within; a safe house, or supply cache – Kino couldn’t really see. 'Tiramex' stepped within without a backwards glance, leaving them all in the dank tunnel.

Kino lifted the blade to examine it as she sucked her teeth, then grimaced at the notches in its edge. She tossed it to stick into the caked dirt with a dismissive grunt between the thug’s sprawled out legs, already moving to follow the Reman.

“Well, shall we find out what’s behind door number two,” the non-com asked the group with a shrug.

 
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