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[ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

First Year Cadet Izar Bila | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth]
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@Fife

Cadet Izar Bila reviewed his courses planning in the padd once more as he hurried to enter the main building of the Academy. He didn't pretend to spent so much time just chatting with Professor Bradley, but the possibility of engaging in the advanced Quantum Chemistry course was too tempting for the young hybrid. It was usually a subject reserved for cadets in their fourth year at the Academy, but given the previous training of Izar in the Trill Science Ministry there was the possibility that he could join the advanced group. The professor seemed pleasantly surprised by the grades and recommendations that Izar had managed to show him. One thing had led to another and in the end, they had had a nice debate about the latest developments in the improvement of high sensitivity sensors, with focus on quick detection of tetryon radiation. The subject was fascinating for the young half-Bajoran, who had developed his thesis in Trill on the development of new materials for the construction of exploration spacecraft's sensors in deep space, so the conversation was longer than he had calculated initially. When the students of the next class started knocking at the door of Professor Bradley, it was when Bila realized that he was late to his own one. While Interspecies Ethics wasn't a subject he was passionate about, it was mandatory to fulfill the basic training. And Bila knew better than anyone that it was a course that many cadets needed imperatively, so he need to join, even if it was mostly to be himself just another case of study. As usual.

So after saying a quick goodbye, he had run from the laboratories to the Academy Main Building. With just a general idea of ​​where he should go. And orientation had never been his forte. Bila had a good memory, but the alien structure of the human buildings distracted him and he wasn't able to locate reference points that would help him to guide himself indoors. All the corridors looked almost the same. So now he was rushing through one of the corridors in the main building without being very clear if he was heading in the right direction. Around him, the students were increasingly scarce, and the few who were in sight accelerated to get to their classes on time. The hybrid tried to approach a group of cadets who wore on his shoulders the yellow of Engineering. Or maybe Security. Because of his badges they were freshmen, just like him, so he sighed with relief and etched his best friendly smile on his face. However, when he was barely had two steps away to reach them, the full group tumbled out at full speed, turned a corner and were lost in sight of the hybrid before he could start saying 'Hello'. Bila blinked puzzled staring at the empty space where the group had been just few seconds before. He couldn't help but run his hand through his jet-black hair in disbelief.  They were definitely security cadets.

The hybrid stopped in the middle of the corridor and fiddled with his Padd again, until the screen showed the building's plans another time. Zooming in using his index and thumb, he studied the complex labyrinth of corridors and cloisters, without finding the logic behind the anarchic the disposition of the classes. Finally after a few minutes with his face almost embedded in the padd's screen, he found the room he was looking for. He tapped in the device, setting his path through the building in a blinking blue line with directions in bajoran in the left side of the screen. If he hurried up a bit, he could reach the class on time. Smiling to himself with satisfaction, he set out to direct his steps towards his destiny.

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #1
[ Cadet Cross | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]

@Numen

Cross ran a hand over the scalp of his shaved head as he stared at the PADD, his eyes wide with exasperation. He was thought he was in the right building, though he was starting to suspect that he hadn’t even gotten that right. The truth was, after spending the majority of his life living in the medical facility of a Cardassian prison camp, the vast expanse of the Starfleet Academy campus seemed like a labyrinth the he had become lost in, destined to perish in the halls of this damned building. At the very least he was going to miss his class.

Cross let the hand holding the PADD fall to his side and set off in the direction he thought he ought to be going, though he wasn’t navigating by the map on the PADD so much as guessing a direction and going with it. The Vulcan/Bajoran hybrid muttered a series of curses in his native Cardassian tongue as he stalked down the hallway, frustration and anger doing little to help his concentration as he searched for the correct room. Lieutenant MacDonald, the man responsible for a good deal of his rehabilitation following his liberation from the camp, had taught Cross how to read a map, though it had been a simple lesson involving a simple map. It had not prepared him to navigate the endless, echoing corridors of Starfleet Academy’s numerous buildings and grounds. And so, onward he stalked.

The corridors were almost completely empty at this point, leaving him little hope of finding someone to ask for directions. The last person he had asked had tried to be helpful, though Cross had still managed to get himself lost somewhere along the way. The hybrid began to think he should just try and navigate his way to his next class in the hopes that, by the time the current one ended and the next one started, he might have been able to find his way there. Rounding a corner, Cross felt a slight glimmer of hope. Further down the hall he could he another cadet, seemingly lost as well. The cadet had his back to Cross and his head down, studying his own PADD. Figuring the cadet may be able to help him, though the fellow seemed lost himself, Cross set out to approach him and ask for help. It was at that moment that the cadet looked up from his PADD and began to move off. Cursing inwardly, Cross sped up to try and catch the cadet.

”Hey, can you help me?” Cross called as he gained on the other cadet, the sudden voice causing the retreating cadet to pause and turn in the direction of the noise. Cross could see the cadet’s face now, the sight forcing all thoughts of help, class, or the Academy from his mind. The cadet had short black hair, dark eyes and clean shaven cheeks. The grey colour of those cheeks, coupled with the scaled ridges and the spoon shape on the man’s forehead, cleared Cross’ mind of any and all thoughts aside form one, which Cross didn’t even realize he voiced aloud as rage took over.

”<Fucking Cardassian!>”

Cross found himself lunging forward, his body operated more by instinct than actual thought. His hands closed on the Cardassian’s jacket, gripping handfuls of the uniform’s fabric as he heaved sideways. His momentum, coupled with the other cadet’s surprise, allowed him to shift the man easily, and before Cross realized what he was doing, the other cadet’s face had been driven into the corridor’s wall, a fleshy thud resounding through the corridor as the cadet made contact with the solid surface. Cross released his hold on the jacket and grabbed the Cardie’s shoulder, yanking it back to turn the grey scaled bastard to face him. Cross’ arm cocked back before the cadet’s face had turned towards him, and as soon as Cross could see the spoon on the bastard’s forehead he drove the punch home, his fist connecting with the Cardassian’s forehead just above his left eye. It was only when Cross withdrew the arm in anticipation of delivering another blow that he saw the blood running down the man’s face. The cadet’s eyebrow was split open, though Cross didn’t know if it was from the wall or his own fist. The blood flowed freely from the break in the grey skin, sending a small but steady stream of brown blood flowing down over the ridges of the man’s nose as it made it’s way down his face to drip off his chin.

Cross’ eyes widened as he stared at the bridge of the bloodied cadet’s nose, seeing the clear shape of Bajoran ridges that adorned it just as they did Cross’ own. Cross pushed against the man, taking a step back as he let his hands fall to his sides. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what he was seeing even as he heard himself speak.

”<Fucking… you… you’re half Bajoran?>” Cross’ mind reeled, understanding now what the cadet was. He had seen several of children like him before his liberation, though he had had only limited opportunity to interact with such children, having rarely been let out of the medical wing. ”<You’re one of those orphans…>”

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #2
First Year Cadet Izar Bila | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth]
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@Fife


Too fast. Whoever attacked him was too fast. A request for help, a rabid insult and then ... a sudden wall. '<Fucking Cardassian>'.  It wasn't by far the first time he had heard that at the Academy, , but as a general rule nobody did anything else besides, although some cadets had relatives who had participated in the Federation-Cardassian War, but the treaty had been signed more than a year ago. Federation and Cardassians were tense allies. Or uneasy neighbours. Nevertheless, it was the first time he heard an insult against the Cardassians in Cardassians' language. Perhaps in other circumstances he would have recreated himself with the irony of this fact, but that his sudden attacker would lift him up and throw him as if he weighed less than a feather left him too stunned to gloat in semantics. The resounding blow against the wall that followed this action left him little room to think about anything other than white flashes and pain. He should have tried not to land with his face, but Bila had never been a fighter, neither he was a physical activities ace. The hybrid began to let himself spill down the wall when the hands grabbed him again and forced him to stand up anew. The second blow he needed to endure was a punch just above the left eye. Bila began to see a dizzying combination of black and white dots in the back of his eyes, while he felt his legs loosen, not only because of the pain but also because of the panic that was beginning to knot in the pit of his stomach. Only the bully's grip on his shoulder kept him on his feet, but he couldn't help but close his eyes tightly and shrink in on himself when he saw the shaved-headed cadet raise his fist to repeat his previous ministration. But the punch never came. Only a weak push and a few words in cardassian. Bila dared to open his right eye. He didn't even try to open the left one. He felt like the thick, warm blood kept dripping on it.

“<Well, yeah, i'm a bajoran mongrel,>” Bila outlined cautiously, using a language he hadn't used in years. He knew that his diction might not be typical of an adult man, but he hadn't used it for more than ten years, and his knowledge of the tongue was more than halted. With caution, he straightened slightly and placed both hands in front of his face, not trusting that the other cadet would stay still without attacking him with no notice. "< I never knew who sired me so I can't talk in his regard but my mother was in good health the last time we spoke, so i'm not an orphan.>”  His statement was not immediately answered with another blow, so the chemist cadet dared to play the compassion card. "<She'll be probably praying the Prophets for my well-being at this moment, you know, she'll feel a little disappointed with her deities if she could see me now ...>" Mention a humble bajoran single mother seemed to finish appeasing his  assailant or maybe it baffled him so much that he left him paralyzed on the site. In any case, the attack wasn't immediately resumed, and Izar dared to peek behind his hands the face of his aggressor. To his surprise, what he observed on the other side of the parapet that formed his upper extremities was another Bajoran. Or at least, partially Bajoran. His aggressor's cheeks were flushed with an evident green tint, while his ears presented a pointy tip that narrowed him as a descendant to a mix of vulcan and bajoran.And communicating himself using Cardassian, to make the mix even stranger. As soon as the thought formed in his mind, Bila chastised himself. He wasn't by far the most appropriate to designate what genetic combination should be considered normal.

With strangely slow movements, so as not to disturb the other hybrid, Izar wiped the blood dripping from his browridge. He observed with an upset grin the brown stain in his hands, given the humidity he noticed in his neck, he supposed that the collar of his uniform was beginning to be dyed the same colour. His left eye was bloated and tender and when he tried to open it he felt a pang of pain that ran down his face that caused Bila to shrink a little and move his hand away. At that precise moment, a professor appeared in the visual field of the cadet's only healthy eye. Just in the other end of the hall. The Interspecies Ethics lecturer. A delicious irony given the interspecies conflict that had just developed. Izar took a quick look at the vulcan hybrid and saw how it had suddenly paled. He looked back at the professor who was approaching with determined steps and a worried gesture on his face. Even from a distance, he surely had distinguished his defensiveness attitude and the bloodstains on Bila's features. And in his uniform. And on the wall. Bila looked at the other cadet again and saw the conflict of emotions that seized his pale blue eyes. He almost felt sorry for him. But mainly he felt curiosity.  The mind of the chemist began to work at full speed assessing all possible outcomes for him and his attacker. In most of them the half-vulcan ended with a stain in his records, or in the worst case, a disciplinary expulsion. A part of him knew that it was what he deserved, but the part of him that wanted to wash the image of his cardassian ancestries what saw was an opportunity. Determined, he turned to the other half-bajoran and whispered hastily. "<Let me speak for both of us, I got this>" When his glaucus eyes met his, Bila nodded briefly. "<You'll have to trust me>"

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #3
[ Cadet Cross | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] @Numen

Cross had listened as the other cadet had talked, calling himself a mongrel but denying that he was an orphan. He went on to mention his mother, and the Bajoran gods. The whole thing left Cross bewildered as he stared in mute surprise. He stayed silent as he watched the half-Cardie wipe the brown blood form his face for a moment before the attention of both cadets was drawn by the appearance of one of the Academy’s professors further down the hallway.

”<Let me speak for both of us, I got this.>” The grey-skinned mutt whispered, meeting Cross’ eyes, ”<You’ll have to trust me.>” Cross knew that even if the half-Cardassian cadet  told the approaching instructor everything he would be no worse off than he already was, and so there could be no harm in trusting the scaled cadet.

Cross nodded his agreement to the other cadet as the instructor’s footfalls grew louder in the hallway, his arrival imminent. ”<It doesn’t seem like I have much to lose.>” Cross admitted in a soft voice. He couldn’t help but think that the Cardassian couldn’t possibly be trustworthy, though it was too late to take any other action as the professor came to a halt just feet from them.

”Just what the hell is going on here?” The professor demanded, his tone angry and his eyes shifting between Cross and the Cardassian. ”Step away from him! Now!”

Cross stepped away from the Cardassian as soon as the translator had finished it’s work, taking several steps backwards and holding his hands up to show he wasn’t a threat. ”Stay right there!” The professor demanded, his arm held out and his finger pointing at Cross as though the gesture would secure him in place. The professor turned his attention to the grey-skinned cadet, his eyes taking in the brown blood that flowed and the nasty gash in the half-Cardassian’s brow. The man seemed momentarily surprised to find himself looking at a face that looked mostly Cardassian, though the hesitation lasted only a second. ”What happened here? Are you alright?”

Cross turned his attention to the other cadet as the professor addressed him, waiting with baited breath for the half-Cardie to answer. Cross, having little love for or faith in the grey-skinned race, had little doubt that the other cadet was about to accuse him, to tell the professor everything. Cross considered lunging for the other cadet once he had ratted him out. Perhaps he could get a few more good blows in before the professor intervened.

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #4
First Year Cadet Izar Bila | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth]
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@Fife

While the professor separated the other cadet and seemed to keep him in place by sheer will of his justified anger, Bila toyed with his fingers, trying to clean the sticky blood that was beginning to coagulate in them. As soon as the human turned his gaze towards him, the hybrid composed the best of his apologizing smiles in his face. "This is not what it seems, sir" he began to say with a slightly embarrassed tone. "I slided. It sounds ridiculous but, it's true, I was late for the  class, so I decided to run to try to arrive on time and ...well ... let's say that agility isn't one of my fortes" he explained with a nervous giggle while his cheeks were flushed, showing a darker gray tone than the rest of his face. "This cadet witnessed the whole event and hurried to help me stand up, but I was so disoriented that I stumbled back again. Just before you appeared, sir, he had offered to accompany me to the infirmary to cure this," he continued pointing to his shiner. "An excellent example of fellowship between bajorans, as the Prophets wish" he finished looking at the half-vulcan with a friendly smile on his face.

The professor raised one eyebrow with skepticism, while his glance passed repeatedly from one hybrid to another. Izar knew he wasn't too convinced about the veracity of his excuse, but he had no basis to establish that he was blatantly lying. As outlandish as his evasion could sound, it also could be true. "I'm fine, as far as can be expected," he assured in a calm voice. "I'm afraid that this visit to the infirmary will prevent me from attendingto your class but if my friend helps me to get there I'll be fine. I wouldn't want you to miss your class because of my clumsiness, sir" he insinuated. The professor looked at the time on his wristwatch, a terrestrial antiquity that he seemed intent on continuing to use despite the clear deficiencies that Bila found in the device in a transplanetary society. The professor dropped his arm to his side and looked worriedly back at the half-cardassian. "Go to the infirmary, you are excused from your classes until they heal that wound..." The human stopped for a moment, searching his mind for the name of the gray-skined cadet. "Izar. Izar Bila." The hybrid assisted him with a flattering smile on his face. The professor nodded before continuing. "... Cadet Izar. I want a medic report and see you both in my office at 1545 to clear up this incident," he warned, looking at both cadets again. Bila quickly nodded, slavishly, which caused his gaze to blurred and took a step back to steady himself, dizzy. Luckily, the professor was staring at the other cadet at that moment, looking for his acquiescence with the order he had given, so he didn't witness his display of weakness.  Bila trusted that his unusual skin tone in Federation territory hid the pallor that had taken over his features. And that the sudden fainting was due to the descent of adrenaline in his system. The half-vulcan was considerably stronger than he and could have caused irreparable damage in his skull or brain. Bila struggled to hold back that line of thought before the panic took hold of him again, whether his fears were founded or not,his health  wouldn't improve with a nervous breakdown. The half cardassian hurriedly clasped his hands on his back, to prevent the professor from noticing the nervous tremor that was beginning to seize them. When the instructor seemed satisfied with the responses of both cadets, as far as possible, he crossed his arms over his chest and pronounced "Dismiss" dryly.

Bila watched the human for a second and then the other hybrid. The first seemed unwilling to move, ready to observe the alleged 'friendship' of both half-bajoran on display, so the chemist hastened to make a gesture with his hand for the other cadet to accompany him. "<Let's go, my friend>" said Bila, accompanying the words with a smile more false than the honor of a Ferengi. As soon as the other hybrid was at his side, he tried hard to move down the corridor with the more relaxed attitude he was able to show. He noticed the critical look of the professor burning him in the back of his neck. Under that judgemental stare, he had to suppress his impulse to cringe away the other hybrid, or at least to endeavor to keep him in the field of vision of his healthy eye. For some strange reason the cadet had decided to place himself on his left so that Bila sensed his presence through his swollen eyelid more than he saw him. Without being sure of the reaction he was going to have once the lecturer stopped observing them, Izar had to make a real effort to keep the smile on his face and his relaxed body language.

After a journey that seemed to last an eternity, he dared to speak, once far enough from the human's auditory range. Or so he expected. Since his sense of hearing was less acute than that of most humanoids given his Cardassian ancestry, Bila struggled to keep his words in a quiet whisper, barely above his breathing. "<You're going to accompany me to the infirmary,>" he ordered. "<On our way, we'll elaborate a better the excuse that I have given to the professor. We have to agree on the details to prevent him from discovering the lie. The details are what makes a story believable, as my ts-ts used to say> " His voice sounded strangely choked and high-pitched. Shamefully high-pitched. Bila hurriedly continued speaking to try to normalize his voice tone. "<I still don't know what's your name, I'd better know that if we want to keep this charade>"


ts-ts → pet name for a grandparent

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #5
[ Cadet Cross | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] @Numen

Cross listened in silence as the Half-Cardassian cadet exchanged words with the infuriated professor, puzzled as to why the cadet wasn’t giving him up and laying accusations of assault. Any such accusations would be well founded, and any punishment doled out would be well deserved. Cross had to wait a moment for his universal translator to work it’s magic as the cadet introduced himself to the professor, naming himself as Izar Bila. The professor demanded that the two report to the infirmary for Izar to get checked out by the medic. Then they were to report to the professor’s office at 1545hrs. to “clear up the incident”. Cross nodded his acknowledgment of the instructions when the professor looked at him, well aware that the professor hadn’t truly believed cadet Izar’s story.

When the professor dismissed them, Cross stood and stared at the man for a moment until Izar gestured for him to follow, with an uttered ”<Let’s go, my friend.>” and a smile that Cross suspected was supposed to portray friendship. Izar was not a great actor, it would seem, though the professor didn’t seem to notice. Cross studied Izar out of the corner of his eye, seeing the half-Cardie making an almost convincing attempt at a relaxed posture as they moved away from the professor. Cross himself moved with a certain rigidity, though anyone who observed him for any length of time would come to understand that this was how he typically held himself. The truth was, while Cross was worried about the consequences of his assault on the Cardie, he had little fear of the professor himself. The man was bound by rules and laws, and could do nothing to Cross that would come remotely close to what he had endured in his old life. No, what truly confused and worried Cross was the cadet at his side, half Cardassian and half Bajoran. He wasn’t sure what the half-snake’s game was, and he found that worrying. He knew all too well what the grey-skinned race was capable of.

Cross’ reflections were interrupted when Izar spoke, the professor now out of range of hearing. Izar ordered Cross to accompany him to the infirmary, stating that they had to elaborate their story to make it believable. The scaled cadet’s voice had taken on a high pitched, squeaking quality at some point, the sound coming across shrill and irritating to Cross’ sensitive ears. After a moment, the cadet schooled his voice down to a normal tone, for which Cross was thankful, and then stated that he needed to know Cross name. Cross waited until the two had walked several more steps before answering, the pair having rounded a corner and disappeared from the professor’s sight. Once he was sure the professor wouldn’t see, Cross turned a harsh gaze to the grey skinned cadet.

”<Listen to me, Izar Bila. Don’t ever presume to order me to do anything! I’ve dealt with enough Cardassian snakes, and I’m not going to be at the mercy of another!>” Cross hissed, careful not to raise his voice and thus attract the attention of the already suspicious professor. ”<I don’t know what your scheme is, but just because you didn’t give me up to that professor doesn’t mean I’m about to trust you.>” Cross took a breath and forced himself to relax his hands, his fingers spreading out and breaking up the fists they had formed into without him even realizing. ”<Though I suppose I do owe you a debt for not turning me in. And…>” Color rose in Cross cheeks, more from frustration then embarrassment as he forced the next words out of his mouth. ”<…an apology.>” The words tasted like bile as they oozed past his lips, and Cross worried for a moment that he might actually be sick. Apologizing to a Cardassian! It wasn’t something Cross had ever imagined himself doing.

”<My name is Cross.>” Cross finally said, reluctantly extending his hand to shake Izar’s. ”<Though your people used to call me test subject A17338961.>” Cross added with a sneer, wanting the Cardie to have a glimpse of the depth of hatred Cross held for his people. Half or full, Izar was a Cardassian. And despite the fact that he had saved Cross from possible expulsion, a part of Cross still wished he’d bloodied the grey-skinned mutt far more than he already had.

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #6
First Year Cadet Izar Bila | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth]
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@Fife

Bila couldn't help frowning at the hissing threat of the other hybrid He'd saved the other half-bajoran's neck when he had every right to report him and put his sorry ass out of the Academy.   But the ungrateful cadet also DARED to accuse him of duplicity and not being trustworthy. The chemist almost regretted that his good heart had driven him to try to help his attacker. His grimace twisted even more, to the point that his battered eye gave him warning in the form of stabbing pain. He slowed his steps and raised his hand to his bloodied ocular ridge, so the half-vulcan's apology catched him even more by surprise. Even more when he saw how the cheeks of the other cadet were colored a greenish tone, which gave him a sickly appearance, but he supposed that in his case that was the way he blushed. Then he introduced himself as Cross, and held out his hand in front of him. Bila looked at the hand without fully understanding the gesture, assuming it was a way to making an acquaintance or set peace. He vaguely remembered seeing some humans shake hands to close deals or formally introduce themselves, but it wasn't something he had ever done. It was neither a cardassian or bajoran gesture, neither he was fond of physical contact, less with a violent stranger. To worsen everyting, the poison that distilled his next words made him unnable to correspond the gesture. He didn't put himself within Cross' reach so easily again. So he simply stayed where he was, his back stiff and his hand still covering his wounded face. That way, when he answered the other hybrid, his poker face was even more obscure. "<A17338961, Cross ... I guess that comes from cross-breed ... your caretakers don't seem to have been too kind to you>" He said softly, more to himself that to the half-vulcan. Next, Bila sighed and squared his shoulders, then raised his eyes to the glaucous eyes of the other cadet. There was a strange fortitude in the half cardassian expression, a stress in his jaw. "<Even so, I don't accept your apology, A17-Cross. I don't accept empty words simply because you want to get rid of me as soon as you can. You accuse me of being like MY PEOPLE ... I don't know what experiences you have had with Cardassians so far, but we're not all the same, and for the short time that I have known you, you're much worse than any Cardassian of whom I've a memory of. As for me, being such... treacherous cardassian as you blame i am... Did you notice I could have sold you simply by telling the truth?, I could have easily achieve that the proffesor expelle you from the Academy.>" Bila took a deep breath, trying to appease the anger that was beginning to percolate in his words, making his voice tremble slightly. "<I could have gotten you to NEVER let you get close to a Starfleet installation because you're violent and dangerous and ... extremely xenophobe. None of these characteristics is desirable in an officer of the Fleet. They probably put you in a mental facility and you would never seen the sunlight again. I could have done all that ... but I have not done it.>" The scientist's voice was low and calm, but the threat was evident in his next words. "<But I can still do it. If you make a false move, if you raise a hand against me again, rest assured that I'll destroy your future. So yeah, Cross, you owe me a debt, and you'll pay for it. So don't you DARE to call me snake again. Never.>" Bila breathed with difficulty, his jaw strangely strained and projected forward.  It was not since then that he realized that he had balled the hand on his side into a tight fist. A pretty useless gesture, but one that revealed to what extent Cross's disdain and violence had affected him. He knew that his cheeks had darkened, taking that reddish brown tone that passed by a blush in his face. He looked away for a moment, while he got his head together again. He rarely let himself be carried away by his emotions. It was one of the few teachings that he had always keep in mind from his short cardassian raising: keeping a cool mind was the best way to analyze others and the environment. And use that information in his behalf could save his skin. Or allowed him to take advantage over others. Not being of the fighting type, that was one of his few weapons, and he'd tried to master it.

After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, Bila sighed and looked back at the other cadet with a beatific smile on his lips, his previous belligerent stance hidden as if it had never existed. "<But if you keep that insults for yourself ... I'll not need to 'blackmail' you. There are hundreds of hybrids here but ... you and I? You and I are real oddballs. For Prophet's sake, you are not even able to communicate in Standard. How you ever thought about how many Cardassian native speakers there are in the Academy? Between that and your tendency to attack other students without warning ... I think you need all the help anyone can give you. So i'm gonna help you again... kinda. I'll consider you my... personal project, for the bajoran blood that unites us. And for our common language. But my main interest is show you that not all cardassians or half-cardassian are as evil as you believe we are. I'll put a tad of respect for other species in you> " Bila didn't miss the irony that, despite his words, he was extorting Cross. He justified himself thinking that he was doing it to avoid another beating by the other cadet, but he was still fulfilling the cliché of being a cold-blooded manipulator that used to be held against his unknow father's race. Not wanting to deal with the guilt that was beginning to coil in the pit of his stomach, Bila moved forward again, overtaking Cross so that he couldn't see the mix of emotions that betrayed his features. Before he noticed it, the door of the building appeared before them and Izar hurried outside. Partly because he felt that needed some fresh air. Mostly because given how unstable Cross looked, he preferred to have witnesses around them. As soon as he crossed the threshold, the cold, damp air of San Francisco hit him like a physical slap. Perhaps the autumn weather was excellent for humans, but he had inherited a low tolerance to cold. A pretty low tolerance. He hugged himself, shivering slightly and looked around. Scattered groups of students strolled through the gardens of the Academy or sat down to enjoy the sun. In case the half-vulcan would go wild again, at least there would be plenty of witnesses. When Cross reached him he could not help but turn to face the other hybrid to study his face. "<The medical center is over there>," he said pointing to an adjacent building.

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #7
[ Cadet Cross | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen

Cross’s jaw tightened as Izar rattled off his old prisoner number. Subject A17338961 had been little more than an animal, and were it not for the years of rehabilitation he had received Cross had no doubt that the mere utterance of the identifier by a grey skinned snake would have sent him into a murderous rage. Izar’s muttered opinion that Cross’ caretakers had not been kind to him sent another spike of anger through the Vulcan hybrid’s heart, his hands clenching at his sides to match his jaw. He remained silent for fear of his anger, worried as he was that it would take control once again and lead him to further assault the creature that stood before him.

Cross cared little if the Cardassian mutt accepted his apology, loath as he was to have given it in the first place. Izar’s use of “A17-Cross” as his name caused the Vulcan/Bajoran cadet’s eyes to bulge as he clamped his lips closed to prevent a low, menacing growl to emanate from his chest. The grey skinned cadet continued in his attempt to berate Cross’, the skinny man’s anger plain in his speech. Cross felt no remorse at causing the Cardie’s indignation, occupied as he was with his attempts to control himself and prevent his rage from taking over. If that happened, Cross wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to stop himself from ripping the slimy bastard’s throat out with his bare hands. That thought alone, the idea of tearing out the spoon-headed snake’s windpipe, filled Cross with a morbid sense of glee.

When Izar threatened to destroy his future, Cross couldn’t stop himself from emitting a loud, barking laugh. The skinny Cardie had his own hands balled into fists, Cross noted with surprise, not having thought the scrawny bastard had the guts to act aggressively. The man’s cheeks darkened, which Cross knew to be the equivalent of a Human’s face turning red. The drunk night guard in the camp used to turn that colour after he’d spent most of the night drinking. When the snake had composed himself he went on to state that he wouldn’t blackmail Cross if Cross refrain from insulting him. Cross managed to contain the laugh that tried to escape him this time, thinking to himself that only a Cardassian would openly threaten and blackmail someone, then go on to say that they wouldn’t have to if their demands were met. It was the sort of underhanded hypocrisy that Cross had come to expect from the “Doctors” who had been in charge of him for much of his life. Izar was moving now, and Cross followed as the scaled cadet practically raced for the exit, wondering if Izar was aware that, if he was as weary of Cross’ temper as he seemed to, walking ahead of Cross and having his back presented was a poor choice of position. Only once they were outside and in sight of other cadets did the slimy bugger stop, turning to face Cross once more.

”<The medical centre is over there.>” Izar informed him, pointing to a building adjacent to the one they had just emerged from.

”<Stop.>” Cross said, his tone ensuring the Cardie knew it to be a command rather than a request. ”<If you’re finish your little tirade, then let’s clear a few things up.>” Cross took a step closer to the placed his hand on Izar’s shoulder in a manner that, if viewed at a distance by an onlooker would look like a friendly gesture. ”<First, whatever happy treatment your grey skin and that thing on your forehead may have afforded you from the Cardassians, I’ll tell you now that they are far worse that I am.>” Cross kept his voice low and level, though a deep rage seemed to permeate his words, ”<I spent most of my life being tortured and experimented on by people who looked and spoke just as you do. So while you claim that they’re not all alike, your actions suggest something different.>” Cross’ grip tightened on the other cadet’s shoulder, uncomfortable bordering on painful. ”<Second, I had no caretakers. I had captors and torturers. A17338961 was my subject number.>” The grip tightened slightly more, just barely passing from uncomfortable into the realm of pain. As he continued to speak, his voice had turned more to a growl. ”<The last Cardassian that called my by that number did not survive to do so again. If you EVER call me by that number again, you won’t live long enough to blackmail me.>” Cross' eyes bulged as he felt a snap beneath his fingers, his hand springing away from the other cadet. "<What the hell was that? Are you made of glass?!?>"

Cross took a deep breath, then loosened his grip on the grey skinned cadet’s shoulder. He let the breath out in a long sigh, and when he continued, his voice had grown quiet, the rage having disappeared from his tone. ”<I will… refrain… from calling you anything insulting in the future, Izar Bila.>” Cross informed him, meeting the other cadet’s dark hazel eyes with his own pale blue ones. ”<But know that that courtesy must travel both ways.>” Cross’ mouth curled up into the barest hint of a smile as he added, ”<You have a great deal of work ahead of you if you wish to prove that not all Cardassians are deserving of my earlier treatment of you.>” Cross kept his eyes locked on the other cadet. ”<Third, I really do apologize… for attacking you…>” Cross’ face coloured again, the shame rising within him working to combat the anger that was his constant companion. ”<And for your shoulder...>" Cross cleared his throat, "<My past… I have... trouble... controlling myself. You’re the first Cardassian I’ve seen since I was freed. Even if you’re only half.>” Cross sighed again, shaking his head. ”<I’m…>” Cross hesitated, his face taking on an almost nauseous appearance. ”<I’m sorry.>”

Cross remained silent for a moment, his mind reeling at the fact that he had just apologized to a Cardassian. After another moment, he reach up again and clasped Izar’s arm. ”<Let’s get you to the infirmary. The professor will be more likely to think we aren’t enemies if you aren’t covered in blood when we meet with him.>” Cross gently steered the other cadet towards the medical building, his eyes briefly taking in the damage he’d inflicted on the other man. "<Just try not to trip on your way there. If you're that fragile, we can't have you breaking anything else.>"



[ Cadet Cross | 16:15hrs | Outside Professor’s Office | Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]

Cross sighed as he stepped through the door of the professor’s office and into the corridors, waiting for Izar to emerge from the room. As the door hissed shut, Cross pointed silently down the corridor and stalked along, his jaw muscles tightening as his heels clicked angrily on the corridor’s floor. Once they were a safe distance away from the office, well out of earshot, Cross whirled around to face the other cadet.

”<What the hell was that?>” Cross hissed, his face colouring a deep green as anger surged within. ”<What the hell were you thinking? I know we agreed on the ruse of being friends, but don’t you think that was taking it a bit far?>”

Cross sighed again, his shoulders sagging as he seemed to deflate slightly. The Vulcan/Bajoran hybrid let himself fall back, his back coming to rest against the wall behind him. ”<Well… at least he seemed to believe your story…>” Cross turned his face back to Izar, his eyes wide with bewilderment. ”<… but was it really necessary to go to those lengths?>” Cross let his head fall back against the wall and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. ”<Fucking shit, Izar.>”

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #8
First Year Cadet Izar Bila |  16:15hrs | Outside Professor's Office | Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]
[Show/Hide]

@Fife

When the door of the professor's office closed behind him, Bila allowed himself to drop some of the masks with which he wrapped himself, rubbing the low arc of his right eye ridge, more annoyed of what he wanted to acknoledge. He struggled to suppress the frustration that was beginning to coil in his chest, he couldn't let Cross see any more weakness in him. Things hadn't gone as planned. Yeah, it had turned much better than what someone could expected given the initial situation, but the outcome was far from ideal. The pretty angry and pretty hissing hybrid who was at his side wasn't helping either. Nor for the sensation of burning and itching that the bone knitter had left on his clavicle. Izar couldn't deny that he still felt resentful with Cross for that. For the unsolicited physical contact, for the unnecessary fracture of one of his bones and for the offensive remark about his lack of physical strength. It wasn't something he needed to be reminded of. Bila had inherited the graceful cardassian structure with a wiry bajoran physique which, together with a deficient diet during a good part of his childhood had helped little to develop a Herculean figure. He was more in the lanky and emaciated side of the hybrid scale. And he was well aware of it.

However, as much pissed he was with the other cadet, one of them had to keep a cool head, and given the half-vulcan's tendency to lose control, he was the only option. So he threw his hands through his short curls one last time and turned to the other man. The expression he showed to Cross was far from how he felt,a reassuring smile on his face and a flash of conviction in his hazel eyes. "<That, Cross, has been myself trying to bluff our way out of this mess you've done>” he explained calmly, despite the caustic of his words. "<And like any gambler knows, sometimes a bluff didn't work as expected. To be honest, I didn't expect our roommates to be so willing to get rid of us both, >" he continued, unable to hide a bitter note in his voice. After ten years living in the Federation's territory, those small gestures that showed that he didn't quite fit there, that he was still an outsider, an expat, they were still painful. He glanced sideways at Cross, who at that moment had his haunting gaze lost somewhere in the ceiling. The other cadet was dangerous and unstable, Bila was more than aware of it. But in spite of that, he was possibly the only one in the entire Academy, maybe on the whole planet, who was as alone and lost as he was. And as much as his life was in danger only for being close to him, he felt empathy for Cross.

Bila sighed and raised his hand. He hesitated for a moment, but finally landed it on the shoulder of the other Bajoran-hybrid, giving him some soft pats that pretended to be friendly but were mostly awkward. "<Either way, neither of us can request a room change again soon, so right now we have to see this situation through the most positive glass>" Bila paused as he withdrew his hand, not wanting to tempt his luck more than what was due. "<If I can save myself of being choked while I'm sleeping, I think I can help you with the language. I'm a native of both of my parents' languages ​​and I speak standard and trill since authorities admitted us as refugees, so I think I can help you with a couple of things. Once you don't need to depend on UT everything will be easier>" Bila smiled throughout the speech, but in the back of his mind he knew that his big mouth had gotten him in trouble. Really big trouble. As much as he'd joked about it, he knew that Cross could strangle him while he slept, for real. The long nights he had spent shivering to exhaustion in the refugee camp would be repeated again, and maybe he would prefer those to the ones that will come. This time instead of shivering in the inclement weather, he would do it for the possibility of certain death.  At least his worst enemy back then had no face. Whatever the case might be, that semester was going to be very long. Unconsciously, Bila rubbed again the bottom of his orbital ridge and muttered "I need a drink to deal with all this." The insistent gesture made that his newly healed ridge remind him that it wasn't on its last legs, so he lowered his hand and looked back at Cross. "<Listen, all this fuss has left me without classes until my lab turn, late at evening, so, maybe you could help me with the move? or do you have other plans on mind?>"

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #9
[ Cadet Cross | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen

Cross found himself surprised at Izar’s offer to help him learn Federation Standard. The truth was that his mentors had tried to teach him some of the language during his rehabilitation, though they had achieved little success. There had been just too many things for them to teach him. Cross stared at the other cadet for a long moment, unsure of what to say. Part of him suspected that the offer was born of Izar previous statement about being choked in his sleep. A peace offering, perhaps. The offering wasn’t necessary, as Cross had no intention of choking the half-Cardassian while he slept.

No, if he did it, it would be while Izar was awake. That way Cross would be able to see the smug expression disappear form his spoon-faced roommate.

Roommate

The horror of the situation struck Cross again, sending his mind reeling once more. What had the fool been thinking? Regardless, there was no changing it now. Cross turned his pale gaze on Izar once again as the other man mentioned a drink, rubbing his face as the UT translated the words for Cross. Izar switched back to Cardassian again, stating that he had no classes until the evening, and asking Cross to help him move rooms. Cross was caught off guard by the request, having grown used to the other cadet being more underhanded in his remarks.

”<I can help you, yes.>” Cross agreed after a moment, looking at the man in front of him with a studious expression. ”<Once we get your things, we’ll get a drink. I think we could both use one after today…>”


[ Cadet Cross | Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]

Cross placed the last box on the unmade bed and straightened up, turning to face Izar. Cross had been surprised to find that his old roommate had moved out so quickly, though to be honest he was happy to see him go. The man had been Bajoran, and his constant preaching about the prophets had grown tiresome long ago, as had the dirty looks he gave Cross any time he had heard the hybrid speak. Oh, Cross understood that growing up under the occupation had turned the fellow sour on the language Cross used, but Cross knew no other language, and had never bothered to explain the situation to the tiresome man. As Cross watched Izar opening one of the boxes they had brought over, he found himself thinking that he wasn’t sure he would like his new roommate any better. Izar certainly had less in the way of personal possessions, which had made the move go quickly enough. Judging form the rattling one the box Izar had carried and the various tubes and instruments Cross had seen, the man had a small science lab that he was carting around.

”<Is that everything?>” Cross asked before letting out a tired sigh, ”<Because if it is, I think we should have that drink while you unpack.>” With those words, Cross moved to his side of the room, retrieving something from one of his dresser drawers. ”<It’s not easy to find this on Earth. The Humans still hold a great deal of resentment towards the Cardassians,>” Cross paused and glanced at his new roomie as he withdrew a bottle from the drawer, ”<though I suppose I don’t need to tell you that…>” Cross lifted the bottle so that Izar could see, the clear glass leaving the dark, syrupy liquid within clearly visible. ”<Hand me two of those beakers. I don’t have any glasses.>” Cross listened to the clinking of glass as Izar retrieved two of the various measuring devices from the box, the Vulcan/Bajoran hybrid reflecting on the fact that he was acting so civil to one of the spoon-headed bastards who had tortured him for so long.

No… Cross mentally corrected himself, He wasn’t one of them. You need to remember that if you’re going to be living with him for the next year or more. Cross’ gaze remained neutral as he watched the other cadet produce the two vessels. He may be ugly like them, but he’s not one of the scientists who tormented you for so long.

Cross thanked Izar as he took the two beakers, placing them on Izar’s dresser and opening the bottle before pouring two measures of kanar into the glasses. ”<So… why do you have all this equipment? You’ve got almost nothing in the way of personal possessions, but you carry a science lab around with you?>” Cross lifted the two beakers, turned to face Izar, and held out one of the two measures of kanar. ”<I hope you like kanar.>” Cross said, ”<One advantage of having a roommate with a face like yours will be having someone to drink this with. Most people just wrinkle their nose at it.>”

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #10
First Year Cadet Izar Bila |  16:15hrs | Outside Professor's Office | Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]
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@Fife


Carrying his personal items from one quarters to the other was faster than he expected. On one hand he had never had too many belongings of his own. On the other hand, he had moved so many times, even once he and his mother settled in the Trill Homeworld, that carrying and excess baggage felt counterproductive. So with the help of Cross, everything had been solved in a couple of trips. Despite himself, he recognized that Vulcanoid's greatest physical strength was extremely useful for these purposes and he could appreciate it now that it wasn't directed towards him. Unconsciously, he rubbed the spot where his collarbone had broken under the 'friendly' pressure of Cross's fingers and watched with concern as his new roommate unpacked one of his burettes with those same fingers. His eye ridges frowned with worry, and he had to bite his lip to avoid warning the other hybrid about the delicacy of the instrument. Possibly it was counterproductive.Cross had been... surprisingly collaborative so far and had no intention of consciously provoking him again. As if his thought had invoked him, his new companion asked him if they had finished with the move and proposed to share some drinks while he kept unpacking.The chemist blinked few times staring at Cross, confused, until he realized that Cross had caught the sentence he had muttered to himself, back in front of the professor's office. His cheeks darkened as he became aware of it, while his brain took note that his hearing hardness was even more evident next to the pointed-eared man. It was good that he had discovered it relatively soon, before making a scathing comment to himself that could had ended up falling in the ears that should not. He had to be extremely cautious and not get carried away by his tongue, as usually happened.

While Cross looked for something in a dresser, Bila opened the only box that contained his personal belongings, and began to leave on the mattress a couple of changes of civilian clothes, one of them Trill and the other bajoran.  All garments were dark coloured: black, deep purple, mahogany... with subtle embroidery of golden thread. Bila stroked the front of one of the tunics, which he had worn at his graduation ceremony. It was possible that he couldn't wear these garments again in years, given the cold temperature of Earth and the uniformity that was demanded for the cadets, but his mother had insisted that he must take those with him, pushing them against his chest with a wink. He still had no idea what he had been suggesting with that gesture and puzzled him every time he recalled it. While he was still pondering on that, Cross presented him with a bottle of exotic design, proclaiming the difficulty of finding something like that on Fed-space, given the current resentment against Cardassia. "<Yeah, I've noticed that gray isn't an overly popular skin tone around here,>" he confirmed with unconcealed irony. Strangely, Cross admited he was right while he approached the bottle allow Bila study it. The elegant spiral design, adorned with subtle ridges, was obviously cardassian and a part of his mind had registered bottles like that back on the outpost. However, he was unable to name the liquor it contained. He supposed that sooner or later, Cross would help him to name it, so when he asked for a couple of beakers to serve the drinks, Bila hurried to comply, despite the thought of using the delicate instrumental for such an mundane activity made him cringe. To his surprise, Cross thanked him for the gesture, and for a moment gave the impression that they were just two normal cadets, instead of two homeless oddballs to which circumstances had pushed toguether. He could almost get used to it. He doubted that Cross could ever become a real friend, he hated Cardassians too much for that, but at least his ridged nose was comfortingly familiar.  And even though he didn't want to admit it, he had missed the language. It still stuck in his throat because of a lack of habit, but he had good memories associated with it. Memories of simpler days, if not better days.

Bila took the glass recipient that was offered to him and, by force of habit, he took it to his nose, inhaling the deeply sweet and alcoholic aroma that emanated from the liquor. It wasn't unpleasant at all. It brought back memories of meeting rooms, of the staff of the outpost debating late into the night. From the clothes of the person whom, despite the evidence pointing to the contrary, he called 'grandfather'. "<If I'm fully honest, I've never drunk this... kanar>" he confessed, rolling the new word in his tongue rehearsing his pronunciation. "<We left the outpost when I'd ... ten standard years if the calculations don't fail me, so I was too young to be offered an alcoholic beverage. After that, between Bajorans... and later in the Federation... Well, you know better than me that it's not easy to find Cardassians products. Besides, I've been 'just bajoran' for so many years that... well, it's a miracle that I remember enough of the language to speak with you>",  he explained, shrugging his shoulders as he took the glass and sipped a small drink. The liquor slowly spread through his taste buds before squeezing down his throat, leaving a burning sensation in his wake. The taste was extremely unpleasant, like something that should only be drunk if you really hated yourself. Bila couldn't suppress a grimace as he looked suspiciously at the drink, fearing that it had been corrupted till the point it was unedible. However, after a few seconds, the aftertaste in his mouth became suspiciously pleasant, sweet and mellow. It reminded him vaguely of kamoy syrup, but with a more intense flavor. "<This ... this tastes better than I thought at the beginning>" he commented surprised, while tasted the kanar with a second sip. The previous experience repeated almost point by point: a pleasant smell, a horrible first taste, and an excellent aftertaste. In fact, the impression on his tongue was less bad this time, so Bila deduced that it was an acquired taste, something that you grew into after some time. He could get used to it. "<Regarding the equipment ... sometimes I like to run some experiments on my own. Keep stuff for myself until i've perfectioned it. This gives others the impression that I'm better at this than what I really am.> " He confessed. Almost at the moment his words left his lips he realized thathe had been a plainly sincere statement, and that he had offered it to Cross without threats or pressure, something he wasn't used to. The alcohol must be hitting him harder than he thought. "<I mean ... being what I am, I have to show everyday that I'm equal or better than other students to deserve a place here.>" He hurried to explain with an apologetic smile. He put his hand on the slender line of his jaw and scratched the shadow of beard that was already darkening his features. "<Lately I've been trying to distill some alcoholic compose to clean engines, but for the moment what I've got is too acid, and corrodes the metal>"

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #11
[ Cadet Cross | Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]Cross’ eyebrows rose as Izar confessed to never having tried kanar before. The fact that someone with a face like that had never had the drink was surprising, to say the least! Though he referred to himself as “just Bajroan”, that was easier said than done with those facial features. Cross’s expression changed form one of surprise to one of uncertainty when Izar mentioned distilling alcohol for the purpose of cleaning engines.

”Perhaps you’d have better luck making friends among the Humans if you used your… skills to distill alcohol for drinking instead of cleaning engines.” Cross suggested before taking a long sip of the syrupy liquid in his glass… er… beaker. He sighed in content as the flavour and viscosity of the liquid hit him, cherishing the sensation. Cross leaned back, resting his behind on Izar’s desk as he lowered the drink to his lap and studied the other cadet. ”I’ll agree that kanar is an acquired taste. And that I’m a bit surprised that you’ve never tried it before.” Cross paused and took another sip of kanar, ”Though I suppose that could just be a preconception based on your appearance. And I don’t mean that as an offence to you.” Cross took another sip, closing his eyes as he savoured the experience.

”Kanar is one of the few happy memories from my childhood,” he said, his eyes still closed, ”In the camp I was kept in, the night guard was a drunk. We had an uneasy truce between us. He could get drunk in the medical facility and pass out, and I could have the rest of his booze in exchange for waking him up before anyone found him passed out.” Cross took a long sip, holding the thick liquid in his mouth for a moment, basking in the flavour, before swallowing and opening his eyes. ”That was the closest I came to experiencing kindness for the better part of my life, until the Federation liberated the camp, so kanar is something I cherish. It makes it worth the trouble of finding it in Federation space.” Cross focused on the hybrid before him once again. ”I also wouldn’t share it idly, or with anyone. Think of this as a peace offering, since we’ll be stuck with each other for the foreseeable future.” Cross raised his glass in a silent toast as he spoke, then drained the remainder of the glass and reached for the bottle for a top-up.

OOC: I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get a reply up for you!

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #12
First Year Cadet Izar Bila |  Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]
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@Fife

Bila pondered about the suggestion of make a drinkable alcoholic compound to earn some trust between the human cadets. He had always been extremely careful when working with new compounds, especially when it came to substances that could be both harmless or corrode his entrails in a few seconds. It was a fixation that every chemist learn to master pretty quick. Do not put your fingers in any unknown beaker, do not spill any fluid without the necessary precautionary measures. In general, be neat and careful in the extreme. And of course do not drink any liquid that you could distil just to check if it make him tipsy. In addition, the hybrid had grown up in a military environment and he had always tended to be orderly and extremely careful. And of course do not drink any liquid that you could distil just to check if it make him tipsy. In addition, the hybrid had grown up in a military environment and he had always tended to be orderly and extremely careful. His career had only exacerbate this habit until it became practically an obsession. Probably one of his most innocuous manias, there was never any problem in being extremely ordered. Or look for self-preservation. "<I'll think about it.>" He finally conceded to the half-vulcan, not wanting to spoil the relaxed atmosphere that stretched in the room dismissing his suggestion. To his surprise, the kanar made Cross rambled on, and the cadet finally confessed his impressions of the half-cardassian. Some of them were frankly racist remarks, from Bila's point of view, but that Cross acknoledge his prejuices was a small victory, somehow. The diatribe took an unexpected turn when the other hybrid began to relate his experiences in the cardassian camp where he had spent most of his life. The chemist listened to him in silent, taking small sips of kanar, slowly getting used to how the liquid lazily slid down his throat and warmed his stomach. The sensation was as bittersweet as the story Cross began to tell, and partly he understood a little better the violent reactions his appearance had provoked in the other hybrid. He still didn't like them, but he understood his motives bit better. And that he would need to do it all everything in his hand to change the other half-bajoran impressions over his father's people, no matter how complicated it was.

Cross took him out of his cabilations by telling him part of his own history and that this shared kanar as an offer of peace. Bila raised his glass in unison without saying a word and drained what was left of liquor in his beaker. When the other cadet started serving a new round, he pushed his glass towards him, hoping that he would fill it in too. "<I spent some time in a camp too.>" He confessed finally, his eyes fixed on the window. The lights of San Francisco were so bright that stars couldn't be seen in the dark sky. "<It was not a concentration camp, it was a bajoran refugee one. After my mother and I scaped from the outpost there was the only place where we could live. The people there were mainly bajorans, but there were other half-cardasians there too, other children...>" The words spilled from his lips without Bila being able to stop them. Maybe he was more drunk than he thought. "<They didn't treat us 'badly' in the strict sense of the word. Nobody ever raised a hand against any of us, they didn't treat us with contempt. It was just like... as if we didn't exist most time. We were invisible. There were many orphans around and few resources, so when someone could afford to share something with others those resources, were invested in the bajoran children. The full-blooded ones. The worst of all is that I can't accuse them of cruelty, they were being ... strategic.>" Bila ran his hand through the shadow beard that was beginning to darken the lower part of his face, brooding. "<I was lucky that my mother was alive then, I spent most time there being sick. If I had been one of the orphans I wouldn't have survived three weeks there. I would have died in a ditch, as it happened to most of the others.> " He admitted bitterly. Bila saw himself mostly as a bajoran. He had been mostly bajoran most of his life. But that contempt he had suffered was still stuck in the depths of his heart and the wound was still bleeding. "<I know very well that my features are more... cardassians than most of the other hybrids. Shit, I trully believe that the older I get, the more cardassian I look like.>" He chuckled without humor, his confident and smartass demeanor cracking up to show the bitter and insecure man behind them. "<But it was not fair, Cross. I didn't choose what I am, but I must live with it. I believe that both you and I deserve the right to exist as individuals, without prejudice sabout how we have been raised. Or who or how they conceived us.> "Bila spun the liquor on her beaker, staring at it."<We must be better than those who hurted us> "

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #13
[ Cadet Cross | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]Once Cross had topped up Izar’s beaker, then his own, the half-Cardie spoke. ”<I spent some time in a camp too.>” Izar confessed without looking at him, his eyes instead fixed staring out the window of their room. Cross was surprised at the admission, and chose to take another sip of his kanar rather than interrupt the other man. He listened in silence as Izar continued talking, the words coming out in a torrent. Listening to the other hybrid’s words, it sounded as though his time in the camps had hardly been pleasant either, even if they hadn’t been as horrific as Cross’ own experiences.

Izar spoke for some time, and closed off his monologue with a statement of his belief that they should be allowed to exist as individuals. That they must be better than those who had hurt them. Cross took a long sip of kanar as he considered the words, the statement striking a chord with him. He opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated, another part of what Izar had said having stuck in his mind.

”<You were very lucky, having a mother to care for you,>” Cross finally said, regarding Izar over the rim of his beaker, ”<Wha… what was she like?>” Cross asked after a moment, realizing too late that the question might be too personal. ”<forgive me if that was too personal. I… never had a mother.>” Cross lowered his glass, noting as he did so that the kanar had caused him to be open and frank with the Cardassian hybrid, something he wasn’t used to. He had never had someone to talk to like this, aside from the man who had taken him in and seen to his rehabilitation. ”<I never had any family.>”

After a moment, Cross shook his head and took his glass back in hand, glancing at Izar briefly before taking another long pull from the beaker. ”<Sorry, I think the kanar has put me in a reflective mood.>” The Vulcan hybrid apologized, giving Izar a sheepish glance. Cross wasn’t sure how he could open up so much to someone he had just met, let alone someone he had assaulted earlier that very day. Perhaps he should slow down.

Cross drained the glass instead, then reached for the bottle again.

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #14
[ First Year Cadet Izar Bila |  Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]
[Show/Hide]

@Fife

Cross' question catched him off guard. Bila was ready to hear the half-vulcan refute his points of view. Or that he downplayed the rigors of Bajoran's camp by comparing them with his own experience. Even that he mocked the fleeting bitterness that Bila'd displayed. But Cross didn't do any of this. Instead, he asked about his mother.

Bila looked at him perplexed, the beaker freezed half way to his mouth. There were few times that Bila didn't have an ingenious answer prepared to get him out most situations but at that moment he had no words at all. The situation was too weird for him. Even more awkward that the question itself. This goon that he'd punch him few hours ago and now he was making personal questions about his tiny family.The apologies and explanations that the other cadet threw up right after did nothing but make the inquire more and more uncomfortable. Finally Cross looked away and stared at something beyond the windowpane, meanwhile Bila turned the beaker between his hands, pretending to put all his attention on that absurd endeavor.

The silence grew denser and denser between them, until it seemed to embody into something alive and suffocating whose mere presence was a shame in itself. At some point, the chemist couldn't stand the increasing discomfort and drank the contents of his glass in one long gulp. The dense liquor descended down his throat gripping every milimetre of his esophagus until it caused an arcade, but anything was preferable to let moment prolong forever.

"<I ... I dunno>" he finally faltered. "<She has been always there. It's like if you asked me how is to have orbital ridges instead of ... furry caterpillars> " Izar tried to jest ill at ease. "<I could tell you that she was there to lull me to sleep every night, or that she pampered me all the time ... but I would lie you. When I was little, in the outpost, she spent more time confering with the high command and... out. Working I guess. Sometimes I didn't see her in days if she had one of these missions of hers> " As he was talking, he gained confidence, his voice killing the monster of discomfort that had settled in the room. "<Even so, even if I didn't see her as much as i wanted, I knew she cared about me. When I woke up in the mornings I always found some candy, or a little trinket in my nightstand, even if she were not around. She always left me a set of clean, folded clothes in the dresser and a padd with my daily lessons. She... cared about me, in her way.> " Bila remembered with a faint smile in his face.

He put aside his empty beaker and leaned back in the bed, until he lounged over the bare mattress  with his gaze lost in the ceiling. His ridges darkened his eyes for a minute, before he kept talking. "<There were times when she went back to the outpost agitated or with blood in her clothes. Most time it was not hers. When that happened, she stayed around for longer. I liked spent more time with her, but she used to seem sad and the soldiers, wary.  I've always asked myself what went wrong those days, but I've always been afraid of the answer. My mother used to tell me that it is difficult to understand the decisions and actions that you need to make when you were starving and fearing for your life ... and I suppose that those were that kind of situations> " explained Bila with a sentimental tone.

"<Later, in the camp and when we escaped behind the Federation's frontier we spent more time together. We became closer. You know, for a long time, we only had each other. Being a bajoran with a cardassian child was a stigma and I was what I am ...> " He felt silent, his mind-eye seeing things that he usually pretended to keep deeply buried in the back of his memory. Finally he shook his head, trying to divert the subject to something lighter.

"<Anyway, lately she basically try to embarrass me treating me as if I were still eight years old. Reminding me I need to eat this or that. Insinuating that she would love have her house fill with a bunch of gray-skinned grandchildren. And introducing myself to a different boyfriend every two months, more or less. I've lost track of who was the last one. The Tygarian merchant? Or that arkonian goon? I can't remember, to be honest. I remember the guy didn't drink water, can you believe it? " As he tried to put shapes to the faces of his mother's partners, he couldn't ignore the fixation she seemed to have for reptilian lovers.

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #15
[ Cadet Cross | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]Cross wasn’t certain, but he suspected the comment about furry caterpillars was a jab at him, or more specifically, his eyebrows. Cross pushed the though aside as Izar continued talking, speaking of his childhood and his mother. He talked of how she would be out a lot at the high command, and how she would leave little trinkets or candies on his nightstand. He made it sound cute, loving. Cross’ mind had seized upon one phrase. High Command. Izar’s face wore a warm smile as he reminisced, Cross’ wore a carefully schooled expression behind which rage boiled. Izar had put aside his beaker now, and continued talking. He mentioned that his mother would occasionally come back covered in blood, saying he had wondered what had happened on those occasions, but had been afraid to ask out of the fear that he wouldn’t like the answers.

Izar’s narrative took a jump then, talking of he and his mother growing closer once they had escaped to the freedom of the Federation. That, at least, was a sensation Cross could understand. The Federation had been the source of his liberation as well, though through different means, he suspected. Izar mentioned that they had only had each other, since a Bajoran with a Cardassian child brought about a stigma with many people. Izar seemed to ignore the obvious point of why there would have been a stigma, instead choosing to prattle on about his mother’s boyfriends and her pestering him to have children.

Izar had paused in his ramblings, and Cross found that the Cardassian hybrid was staring at him. ”<Uh, didn’t drink water?>” Cross asked weakly as he gave the other man a quizzical look. ”<That is a little strange…>” His heart pounded like a war drum in his chest, his blood thundering in his ears. Cross desperately fought to maintain control of himself as he considered what to say next. He took several slow, deep breaths, quickly running through a mental exercise that he had been taught during his rehabilitation here on Earth. Finally, once he was sure he wasn’t about to explode, he spoke again.

”<You don’t find it odd that your mother would be at the high command?>” Cross asked, his voice carefully controlled. That control began to slip as he continued talking. ”<You don’t fine it odd that your mother, a Bajoran woman, would choose to be off spending time with Cardassian officers rather than being at him taking care of her offspring?>” The words had taken on a hint of a growl now as he started at Izar in disbelief and anger. ”<You don’t see why she would even be at high command in the first place?>” Cross downed the rest of his drink before putting the beaker down on the desk a little harder than he had meant to.

”<I’ve seen women do that. There were a number of them in the camp I was born in.>” Cross informed his roommate, his expression growing fierce, ”<Many of them ended up with hybrid children. There was a word used for women who ended up with children who looked like you, Izar.>” Cross let go of the beaker he had slammed down on the desk, fearing that he might crush it in his grip. ”<They’re called collaborators. Women who sleep with the enemy on order to gain favor, better treatment.>” His voice was a low growl now, his words spoken through gritted teeth. ”<Your mother left you all alone so she could go fuck a Cardie officer, maybe get a meal out of it. A nice bed… clean clothes… maybe even a piece of jewelry, if she was lucky…>”

Cross let out a long breath, the air hissing through his clenched teeth. His rage was not directed at Izar. If anything, he pitied the other cadet somewhat. No, his rage was directed at the Cardassians, who had been more than happy to use Bajoran women in such a manner, using them for entertainment and pleasure until they got bored, then discarding them and finding a new plaything. If he was being honest, Cross wasn’t surprised to learn this news. A hybrid like Izar was rarely the result of a loving relationship, but rather was more often the result of a relationship of convenience or necessity. There had been plenty of mongrel children in the prison camp he had grown up in, though he had had little interaction with them, kept as he was in the medical wing so as not to contaminate the Cardassian’s experiment. The fact was, for many of the Bajoran women in the camp, the only way to get enough food to survive was to provide certain… comforts… to the guards. Some had preferred to starve, and starve they had, but many had eventually caved to the pressure, unable to watch their children starve. And so they, too, had turned collaborator, passing information to the snakes or giving their bodies to them in exchange for scraps, anything to keep their families alive.

”<Your mother was hardly the first woman to do things for the fucking Cardassians. She probably did it to help protect you…>” Cross said, his expression softening somewhat, ”<but there are only so many reasons a Bajoran woman would go to the high command. Or come back covered in someone else’s blood…>” Cross reached out and picked up the bottle of kanar, refilling both his own glass, then Izar’s. He took a long sip, sighed, then downed the whole drink before reaching for the bottle to fill it again. ”<If you think she was doing anything else, you’re lying to yourself…>”

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #16
[ First Year Cadet Izar Bila |  Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]
[Show/Hide]

@Fife




Cross's first question found Bila still smiling. He had relaxed with the closest attitude of his new roommate and the heat of the kanar warming his stomach. All was well. The half-vulcan seemed to have left aside his aggressive and suspicious attitude and looked like almost... almost a normal person. Which was a clear improvement after being witnessed the rabid animal he could become. Maybe that arrangement between them was not so bad. The chemist doubted they could be ever intimate, but at least they could be friends. Or something similar, some relationship that involved some less intimacy but, at the same time, less chance of ending up in sickbay.


However, when the other cadet's speech  began to grow harsher, Bila realized how wrong he was. As Cross's voice tone became deeper and more guttural, more like an animal grunt, Izar's posture became stiffer, his eyes more narrow.  When his roomie make a break in his diatribe to gulp what remained in his glass, the half-cardassian imitated him, trying that the gesture didn't betray what began to boil beneath his skin. Then, he left the beaker on the table. When he did it, it rattled oddly against the wood and ended up rolling and rolling until stopped against a pile of PADD.


Cross seemed to have fallen in love with the sound of his own voice and kept speaking shortly after, holding his own jar with such force that his knuckles turned white.  Bila crossed his arms over his chest and averted his eyes, staring at the window. He did not even blink for long. Despite all his attempts to maintain a calm facade, his breathing accelerated and his nostrils dilated. How he dared? What right he had to insinuate... THAT?


The blow on the table made him return his gaze to Cross's face, who was still talking between clenched teeth, his face sickly greenish. Bila on the other hand, was livid, his gray features so faded that he looked like a living dead. His forearms hurt. And the pain came from his own fingers, sunk deep into his flesh so Cross wouldn't see the tremor that seized them. The chemist lowered his gaze to the point where the fingertips of his right hand drove into the fabric of his uniform. He couldn't look at Cross. He didn't want to look at him.


Somehow, the storm that threatened to explode inside Cross calmed down, and he picked up the bottle again and poured more kanar in his beaker. Then he sat up slightly and straightened Bila's glass, filling it too. The half cardassian didn't glanced him at any moment and simply let him do whatever he pleased, while he tried to put his mind on something else. Mainly in the metallic taste that he had in the back of the throat, mixed with the sweet kanar's aftertaste.  At some point, he had bitten his tongue. Possibly by squeezing  jaws so tight as he could, just to not interrupt his bellicose roommate.


Cross served another round only for himself. Meanwhile, Bila tried to lead his glass to his lips. He couldn't. When the recipient almost reached the height of his chin, his wrist trembled. The hybrid spilled the dense liquor on his uniform and his hands. Usually, he should have felt bothered by his own clumsiness. Even more so by the stain that spread on his sleeve and his left leg,  and by the warm, sticky feel of the kanar through his clothes. On this occasion, he barely noticed that. The half-vulcan had finally shut up, after a sigh and the proclamation that Bila was cheating himself. He didn't take the hint immediately, and he simple kept watching how the blotch spread through his pants and dripped from his hands to the floor of the room.


Minutes thickened, and Izar kept silence, without took his eyes away from the intense scrutiny of the of his own knees.  If it weren't for his ragged breathing and the slight twitch of his left orbital ridge, he could have been mistaken with a marble statue.


"<Cross ... when you were in the camp ... what did you need to do to survive?>" He finally whispered, his speech breaking strangely. Despite this, his tone was calm, almost affectionate, in contrast to the pallor of his face. "<How much did you humiliate yourself, Cross? Did you crawl at the feet of your captors? Did you fight to maintain some dignity or you just simply be slavish? Probably both. What horrible acts did you did that still today keep chasing you in your bed to keep you awake? What aberrant alliances you agreed, what denigrating truces did you have to accept? Did you stole food, Cross? Or other things? A blanket maybe, because you were almost freezing? Did you look away when someone asked for your help? Did you kill? Did you do it to not be killed?...>" While he speaked, his voice was losing its soothing tone, percolating the pure rage that was beneath it.


Bila stood up with the beaker tightly squeezed between his fingers. The glass creaked ominously and its surface splitted, cutting the palm of his hand. Brown blood dripped onto the floor plates. But the chemist did not care. He straightened up in all his ungainly height, his back stiff and his eyes fixed on Cross' ones. "<Are you proud of it? Or do you try to justify what you did to save your own skin? Have you forgiven yourself? or the guilt consume you at night and prevents you to sleep? Do your mind visit again and again the worst moments, as if you touched an infected wound just to know if it still hurts? It still hurts, Cross? You still wake up some nights, sweating, because you're not sure if you're still in the camp and everything... all THIS is a dream?> " He barked, pointing to the room with a lanky arm movement. The gesture sprayed the room's walls with a mix of the kanar that soaked his sleeve and the blood of his fingers.


"<No ... I know that more often than not the guilt nags on you, no matter how much you try to justify what you did. That nightmares keep chasing you most nights and they threaten to burn you down when you are alone with your thoughts. And in spite of this... in spite of this, you DARE to JUDGE what others had to do to survive? How the hell you've the audacity to state that your moral compass is the only one valid when you couldn't afford one most of your life?>" At that point, Bila was shouting. “<Do you dare to judge my MOTHER because she did what she could to survive? YOU DARE TO JUDGE MY RIGHT TO EXIST!?!?! " he blurted out. Without thinking, he angrily hurled the beaker to Cross. It exploded against the wall, far away from its target, more than half a meter over Cross' head. It shattered to a thousand pieces that rained in all directions.


Bila clenched his fists again and stared at the other cadet with obvious disdain before he turned around. Long strides drove him quickly to the door. "<Up YOURS !!! , fucking lab rat> "He roared in bajoran, looking at Cross for last time. By the time the UT could translate the sentence, Bila had left the room slamming the door.

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #17
[ Cadet Cross | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]Cross watched Izar storm out of their room following his outburst, shaking his head as the doors hissed shut behind the snake. This was going to be a long year, rooming with the half-Cardie. Cross silently cursed the man for suggesting the rooming assignment to the professor in the first place. As smart as Izar seemed to think he was with all his lab equipment and high opinion of himself, the fellow didn’t have a lick of sense. Now they were stuck in this situation, and Cross couldn’t see how things could possibly improve.

The only blessing was, he wasn’t sure they could get any worse, either.

Cross put the yelling Cardassian from his mind and went about cleaning up, washing the beakers and putting them back in the box that Izar had produced them from.  He lifted the bottle of kanar, seeing only a small amount of the syrupy liquid swirling around the bottom of the bottle. He put the bottle to his lips and tipped it upward, the words "it's going to be a long year" echoing in his mind as he drained the last of the bottle's contents.


[ Cadet Cross | Campus Grounds | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]
Cross slowly made his way down one of the many paths that criss-crossed the campus of Starfleet Academy, moving without any sense of rush or urgency as he enjoyed the warmth of the midday sun and the scent of the various flowers which bloomed on the hedges that lined this particular path.

Yes, it had been a good day so far for Cross. His last class had been cancelled, so he’d had some time to simply stroll the grounds and enjoy himself. His insufferable roommate, Izar, had been gone by the time Cross had woken up this morning, and so he had been spared from listening to the snake of a man’s prattling as he got ready. Yes, it had been a good day so far.

Cross suddenly got the sense that his good day was about to be spoiled as he heard a commotion coming from around the corner of a building he was approaching. Even before he rounded the corner, the pained grunt and fleshy thud he heard told him exactly what was going on. Someone was being hit, and a part of Cross couldn’t help but hope that it was his roommate, Izar, as he made his way around the corner to investigate.

As the hybrid rounded the corner, he found himself staring at a strange scene. Three cadets, two with the distinctive nasal ridges that Cross himself bore, were pinning a grey-skinned fellow to the wall, and appeared to be pummelling him. As Cross’ eyes focused on the grey skinned man, he couldn’t fail to notice the spoon-shaped ridge on the fellow’s forehead, or the distinctive pitiful wail that Cross himself had heard when it had been he who was attacking the man just a week prior.

As one of the Bajoran’s cocked an arm back and sent his fist hard into Izar’s gut, Cross couldn’t help but sigh. Truth be told, the last thing he wanted to do was to help the Cardie snake. On the other hand, he had joined Starfleet in the hopes of personifying the type of honour and dedication he had seen in the officers who had liberated him, and he knew that in order to do so, he had to stand up for the little guys. In this case, that little guy just happened to be the slimy bastard roommate he couldn’t stand. Cross sighed, knowing what he had to do. After taking a moment to enjoy the sight of the Bajoran punching Izar in the face, Cross finally stepped forward.

”<Alright, enough. Leave him alone.>” Cross barked, striding up to the group as his UT went about it’s work. The First Bajoran, the one who had been hitting Izar, turned to face Cross, his fists still balled and ready. The other Bajoran and the Human still held Izar, restraining him and holding him upright. Cross could already tell this wasn’t going to be a peaceful discussion. As the first Bajoran stepped forward, Cross could see what was coming. The Bajoran lashed out, his fist seeking Cross’ face. Cross was already in motion, though not trying to dodge the punch but rather tilting his head forward. That motion caused the Bajoran’s fist to impact the hardest part of his skull, and the impact was accompanied by a rather audible snapping noise as at least one of the bones in the man’s hand broke. The Bajoran staggered back, his hand clutched to his chest, and Cross followed up with an open-hand strike to the man’s throat. The blow wasn’t hard enough to kill, or even seriously injure the Bajoran, but it sent him to his knee clutching his neck and choking. The image was enough to scare the Bajoran’s two companions, who released Izar and did exactly what Cross had suspected they’d do. They ran.

Cross stepped past the sputtering and gasping Bajoran to where Izar had sunk to his knees, stopping to stand so that his shadow fell across the half-Cardie.

”<Why Izar,>” Cross began, giving the Cardassian/Bajoran hybrid a look of amusement, ”<you have an interesting way of making friends…>”

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #18
[ First Year Cadet Izar Bila |  Campus Grounds | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]
[Show/Hide]

@Fife


"This is clearly an unnelegant way to solve this conflict, I'm sure if we talk a bit we c ..." The punch in the stomach mouth cut Bila's explanation losses and forced him to lower his hands that had raised to protect his belly. The hybrid gasped for a moment before looking up again, a flattering smile on his lips. Before he could say anything more, another hit landed on his side. He couldn't prevent that painful growl scaped from his lips, but before he could turn it into something more coherent, another blow hit him in the abdomen.  He already knew how the situation was going to develop. He knew it too well. Izar tried to let himself fall to the ground and curl up on himself to avoid the blows to his face and guts.


His attackers didn't allow it, two of them grabbed him, one for each arm and held him against the wall, while the third, one of the two Bajorans of the group, beat him at will. The cadet seemed willing to punch him until he would lost consciousness, and Bila wasn't willing for live that delightful experience longer than necessary. So he smiled. An insolent and smug grin. That one that everybody told it was SO Cardassian. The reaction of the other ridged-nosed cadet was immediate.


"I'm going to erase that smile from your damned spoonhead face," he growled, banging him harder, an the sound he produced sounded closer to an animal roar than a humanoid speech.


Bila spit on his batterer's uniform as response. Blood sputum left a brown trail on the bajoran chest."Hurry up," he said sarcastically. "I don't have all day," he added, wrinkling his nose, making the trait he shared with two of his captors more evident.

The answer was brutal. The hybrid let out a plaintive wail with the new storm of blows. The human who held him joined the beating and the unexpected blow on his side took all the air out of his lungs. He gasped, trying to breathe but, before he could fully do it, a blow to his jaw make him pant again. He suddenly felt the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. He began to see black dots at the back of his eyes. Probably everything would be over soon. The 'Future-Bila' would be responsible of dealing with the problem of how to get to the infirmary and not give many explanations. The 'Present-Bila'  was more than ready to faint.


At that moment, a phrase in cardassian echoed in the alley. There were very few people in the Academy who spoke that language. And even less with that accent. The hybrid tried to focus his face on the fight that was unfolding in front of him but his head weighed too much and only managed to hang uselessly from his slender neck. When he finally managed to raise it, the cadets holding him released him and Izar fell to the ground like a dead weight. He heard how two of the bullies were running, the other crawled a few meters sputtering something about 'a fucking snake lover' before standing and walk away, tottering.


The light of dusk darkened when the silhouette of Cross covered the cold autumnal sun. Izar raised his head to look at him, while his savior made a biting comment.  In response, he simply chuckled. The scratchy sound made him choke, he coughed and spat several times before being able to speak. "<You know, I'm a very popular dude>" he replied, his voice full of irony. "<Even you have fallen before my charms, the redhead just insinuated that you are my most ardent fan>" Bila tried to laugh, but only managed to cough again. He put his hand to his jaw and rubbed the splashes of blood from his cheek. This morning he hadn't had time to shave and at that time of day a dark and scratchy shadow darkened his features. And it was soaked with blood that flowed from a wound he couldn't find .It was 'perfect'. Just perfect. It ached, and stinged and everything was a fucking dissaster.


"<Just fuck ... FUCK! fuck them, fuck everything> " he growled desperately as he tried to get on his feet. He failed miserably and fell back on the ground. Now, to add insult to injury, her buttocks ached too. He put his hands to his face and hid his features for several minutes. It was pathetic. HE was pathetic. The semester had hardly started and... how many times had he seen himself in that situation?. For the Prophets, if even the hybrid that had just saved his ass had introduced himself with punching him to the floor. Bila shook his head. Maybe it didn't make sense for him to insist on continuing there, at the Academy. He knew that if he went back to Trill, he could get a job as an assistant to one of the chemistry professors. It would be easier. Simpler. The quiet life of an academic. Without so much ... "excitement". He was valued in the Trill Science Ministry, probably his obstinacy in joining the galactic exploration didn't make sense. He should kill that dream. Bila realized he had been biting the inside of his cheeks. He stopped doing it with a sigh. There was only one thing left for him to do.

"<Just ... help me, will you?>" He pled, extending a hand towards Cross the arrogance he had shown with his attackers totally consumed. "<I think I have a dermal regenerator in our quarters,"  he kept saying in a defeated tone.

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #19
[ Cadet Cross | Campus Grounds | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]Cross could do nothing but shake his head as the battered and bloody Izar made a wisecrack about his popularity, adding that even Cross had fallen for his charms. The half-Cardassian made a strange noise that sounded like he was trying to laugh but ended up coughing instead before making an attempt to wipe the blood from his face. Cross raised an eyebrow as the grey skinned cadet suddenly let out a stream of swearing, cursing the ones who had been attacking him before changing the curse to include a more general “everything”. The frail fellow tried to rise then, though failed miserably in his attempt and instead chose to hide his face in his hands after crashing back down to the earth.

Cross stood silently through all of that, arms crossed and watching the other man with an impassive expression. Truth be told, he felt somewhat bad for the other cadet, half-snake mongrel that he was, but would never voice such a thing. His feelings for the grey, scaled half of the man’s ancestry prevented him from feeling anything but a passing sense of pity for someone who looked so much like those who had tormented and tortured him all those years. Watching Izar as he sat with his face buried in his hands, as though he was trying to hide form the world, made Cross almost feel bad for the manner in while he had assaulted the other cadet when they first met.

Almost.

The truth was, Cross was still having trouble resisting the urge to launch his assault anew every time he saw the man, which was all too often now that they were roommates. The struggle had been almost constant. Finally, Izar let his hands fall from his face, then extended one towards Cross.

”<Just… help me up, will you?>”

The pleading tone of voice, coupled with the bloodied and defeated expression the Cardie wore, caused Cross to cave and accept the hand. The half-Vulcan winced as he felt the extended hand grip his, the scaled skin of Izar’s hand feeling slick with the man’s brown blood. Izar mentioned that he thought he had a dermal regenerator in their quarters, and Cross put an arm across the smaller man’s back to steady him.

”<I can try and get you there, though I have a tendency to break you whenever I touch you.>” Cross said in a dry tone as he cast a mildly amused sideways glance at his companion. His tone took on a more serious note as he observed that the man he was currently supporting looked utterly defeated. ”<Come on, mongrel. Let’s go get you patched up.>” Cross said, the words quiet, almost comforting despite the choice of title he had given the other man. ”<And while we’re patching you up, maybe we can think of ways for you to make friends that don’t involve you needing medical attention afterward.>”

What the fuck are you doing? Cross mentally chastised himself as he helped the Cardie along, Why are you helping this snake? He’s a fucking Cardassian. He’s an arrogant snake! Cross couldn’t disagree with the little voice in his head that raised the protests, though he made no move to release or accost Izar. He knew why he was helping the little grey bastard, and it had nothing to do with the threats the mongrel had uttered towards him the day they had first me, when he had covered for Cross and allayed the professor’s suspicions.

No, it was because Cross needed to be better than his rage. It was something he fought constantly, that rage, but it was something he needed to defeat. Ever since his liberation, when Starfleet had granted him freedom for the first time in his life, Cross had strived to embody the values of those brave and valiant officers who had granted him that freedom. Those values did not have room for racist discrimination. And so, no matter how much Cross hated Cardassians, no matter how much he wanted to pummel Izar into a slimy grey paste, he would help the other man. Not out of a sense of friendship, but out of a sense of duty.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t use the opportunity to take a verbal shot as the snake, though.

”<You know...>” Cross began, casting the shadow of a shit-eating grin the Izar’s direction. ”<If you stopped acting like such a mouthy know-it-all…>” He trailed off and said no more, instead simply waiting for the Cardassian to take the bait as he helped the mess-of-a man hobble back towards their quarters.

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #20
[ First Year Cadet Izar Bila |  Campus Grounds | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]
[Show/Hide]

@Fife

He saw the bitter grimance in Cross face when their hands touched and, even when he had little appreciation for his pointed-eared rommate, he felt hurt. He didn't need that disdain at the time. Was it too much to ask him to show some empathy? A pinch of understanding and respect? Bila would have assured the night before that the other hybrid was capable of feeling something more than bitter anger. That day, he was no longer so certain.

Even so, at least he seemed cooperative. For the moment. So Bila decided not to add any more firewood to the pyre of his own misery and let the other cadet transport him around like a toy. Like a broken and depressed toy that ignored most of Cross' attempts to cheer him up. It's not like they were too good in any case. Izar knew that, if he were a different kind of person, he might have punched him after his suggestion on how to make friends. But he was not that type of person.

"<You know, you aren't the best advisor for making friends 101>" he said without hiding the snarky nature of his words. "<You aren't a social butterfly, precisely.">" he kept chastising, pushing against the half vulcan all the bitterness he felt at that moment.  However, Bila soon realised that it may not have been the most intelligent strategy. After all, Cross was... the closest thing to a friend he had at the Academy at the time. In spite of all his flaws. And his own ones.

The slender bajcardie sighed, defeated, and looked to the other side, ovoiding the cadet's face. "< I'm sorry... I just had enough of this for today>" he softly whispered. Cross didn't answer, immersed in his own thoughts. Or maybe just braking the desire to hit him again. In any case, they both remained silent and continued walking, half crawling and half stumbling, through the Academy grounds. Luckily, Cross had chosen a secluded route, away from the glances of cadets and teachers who might raise questions that neither of them would want to answer. At another time, the chemist might have appreciated that detail, but then he only abhorred the distance he had to travel, which seemed never to end. Each of the painful steps that made his body howl in pain.

Finally, Cross spoke again, his mouth drawing a smile that Bila found unpleasant. It wasn't even a complete sentence, and half was left hung in the air, unspoken. "< I'm a mouthy know-it-all as much as you are a violent bully>" he snapped. Then, he sighed again, wiping his hand over his face, as if he wanted to wipe away the bitterness that possessed him. Obviously, when he let her hang again to his side, the only thing he had dragged was more brown blood. "< I'm sorry... I'm just so done. I'm tired of need to apologize for what I am or how I am or every word I say.  Some people.... most people only see a gray face and automaticallyametne assigns me some ....'qualities': treacherous, ready to decieve anyone, liar... at best when someone found i'm half bajoran I could expect some pity. I guess I've ended playing the role I've been assigned because I've gotten tired of trying to be seen in another way.>" He shook his head, hopeless. "In any case, it doesn't matter anymore. I'm tired Cross. I will look for the next starship that travels to Trill and I will leave the Academy as soon as posible. It's clear that this is not my place."

Even the chemist was surprised by his own words. He hadn't thought of saying them. He wasn't even aware that his despair reached that point. But he couldn't take it anymore. His hard first days as a cadet would be his last.




OOC: sorry for the long delay! :(

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #21
[ Cadet Cross | Late September | East Wing Corridors | Main Building | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]Cross listened as Izar spoke, the half-Cardie telling him that he was tired, and speaking of how people judged him. Finally, the cadet finished his little pity party with the decision to quit, to run away and leave the Academy. Those words forced Cross, and Izar by default, to stop in his tracks. Still supporting the other cadet, Cross turned his head to look at him.

”<What fucking good will that do?>” Cross asked, anger dripping from his words. ”<tucking tail and running away? That’s your plan?>” Cross stared at Izar as he continued to hold the cadet up for another moment, then began moving again, half carrying the battered Cardie towards the infirmary. He didn’t look at his grey-skinned companion as they continued on. ”<For someone who seems to think they’re so clever, you just said some stupid shit, Izar.>” Cross scowled at the path ahead of them as he paused, his pale eyes brimming with anger. ”<If that’s what you want to do, then go. Run. Scurry away like a fucking rat and hide under a rock somewhere. You know what that’ll prove?>” Cross glanced at Izar as he dragged the injured man along, his eyes holding Izar’s gaze for a long moment before he looked away and continued. ”<You’ll prove that those assholes were right. That you don’t belong here.>” Cross practically spat the words. ”<You’ll only be proving them right, and giving them the satisfaction of having run a dirty Cardie out of the Academy.>”

Cross pulled up again, stopping in the middle of the path and looking at Izar again. ”<You think I don’t know about the labels people put on others? I’m half Vulcan, but don’t follow logic. I’m half Bajoran, but have no faith. I’m both of those, and I speak only Cardassian.>” Cross sneered in Izar’s face, enraged by the man’s spineless inclination to run from his problems. ”<But you’re right. Things are a little hard. Better run away and give up.>”

Cross sighed, his shoulders sagging as he forced his anger down. He shook his head, adjusted his grip on Izar, and stared walking again. ”<Come on, we need to get you to sickbay. You’ll need to get yourself fixed up, or you won’t be running away, you’ll be limping.>”

Re: [ 2371 | Starfleet Academy]: The outsiders

Reply #22
[ First Year Cadet Izar Bila |  Campus Grounds | Starfleet Academy | San Francisco | Earth ]
[Show/Hide]

@Fife

When Cross suddenly stopped moving forward, Bila staggered to the front. For a distressing second, he was afraid he would fall to the ground, further mistreating his badly wounded body. But the Prophets spared him another from collapse again, so the chemist sighed in relief for a second... until he felt the glaucous eyes of the half-vulcan stuck into him. When Bila turned his head to face him, what he found was... anger. He looked at his roommate perplexed as he reprimanded him harshly. Angry or outraged were Cross' two basic moods. But so far he had never seen him like this.

However, Bila had little time to ponder about it, since as soon as Cross had stopped, he began to walk again, dragging him along with him.  He pulled him almost fly in his side, as if he weighed nothing. In the meantime, Bila had a hard time trying to keep up with the half-vulcan's long strides as he tried to maintain himself in one piece. The reprimand went on, nevertheless, while Cross threw in his face how timorous was his decision. That if he acted this way he only proved that his attackers were right because he didn't belong there.

Cross stopped again, which made Izar stagger another time, as Cross kept talking, evidencing his lack of courage, and as he also suffered the consequences of a mixed ancestry. For a moment he sighed and seemed ready to give up and let Bila do whatever he wanted. But finally he grabbed him again and kept pushing him towards the sickbay.

"I..."
Bila started to reply. "I... don't know what to say," confessed the half-cardassian, still stunned by the beating he had been given, as well as by that sign of hard love Cross was giving him. Because, yeah, Cross had insulted and humiliated him but... Instrinsically he wasn't telling him that he had to become stronger and keep on with his objective? Wasn't he still a friend behind all his rudeness? Did the other hybrid really hold some kind of affection for him? Bila remained silent until they reached the infirmary and, only then, he moved slightly away from the tallest man. The cadet looked at his roommate for a long time, not quite sure what to say. It was rare in him. Bila always had an answer for everything. It was one of his best virtues. But at that moment, he was speechless, "Thanks, Cross," he finally said. "You're a friend," he added with a thin voice and a tense smile. Then before Cross could say anything else, he hobbled toward the doctor's office, closing the door behind him.


FIN

 
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