Star Trek: Theurgy

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A DARK REFRACTION

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STARDATE: 57588.74
23 MARCH, 2381
0830 HRS.

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus  
[Show/Hide]Curtly, the Brig Officer had woken him up an hour prior, telling him we ought to expect a visitor. When asking whom it was, Doctor Lucan cin Nicander got no answer. While he was used to the treatment from the security officers aboard, knowing it originated from the fact that his darker side had murdered three of their own during the battle with the Rotarran, Lucan couldn't quite stave off the frustration towards his current situation. He had no means to communicate with anyone aboard, just to keep him ignorant of where the ship was at, so he was entirely dependent on people actually coming to visit him in person. Not knowing who had alerted Security that they were coming was entirely unnecessary. It was merely an act of spite on behalf of the brig officer.

Thus, Lucan merely resorted to clean himself up using the modest facilities at his disposal in the holding cell. He ran his mismatched hands through his unkempt hair and donned the currently available uniform - the garments cycled in and out of the cell to grant him acceptable personal hygiene. The charred and damaged uniform that he'd worn when he was shot by one of the Devoted, back on the day the Savi and Asurians attacked the ship, had long since been recycled. The small act of actually letting him wear a Starfleet uniform meant quite a lot to him in regard to trusting the crew to not murder him in his sleep, but he could tell that there had been quite a bit of reluctance on the part of the Brig officers to give him that first uniform after the battle at the apertures. It was a visual cue that while he might be a prisoner, he still retained his rank pips. Despite what people might think of him, he was still a Starfleet officer, and a victim rather than an enemy.

Looking presentable enough, Nicander would abide the time waiting for the visitor reading from literature that Eun Sae Ji had brought him. Replicated paper books from the ship's library database. He had a stand-alone PADD as well, upon which he conducted his research to help in any way he could with the projects concerning the nameless darkness, but he had no real access to Thea's systems any more. When the sounds of the security gate finally announced the arrival of whom might come to visit him, Lucan put the book aside, stood up from his bunk so that he might smooth his uniform a little, and walked up to the forcefield. His pale grey eyes followed the shadow on the deck as it drew closer, and when the person fell into view...

...he wasn't quite sure what to expect any more.

She was one of those whom he'd wondered what she'd think of him, given what had happened between them during the time of his infestation. They shared quite a bit of intimate history, voluntary and not, and he could remember the night before the battle at Starbase 84, when the two of them plus Wenn Cinn had shared in memories of old - from when Thea had just been commissioned.

"Stark," he said in his deep voice, unsure if it would be appropriate to smile given the circumstances. She had every right to feel betrayed, even though he hadn't been the one in control when he'd made the advances he'd made on her in that Jefferies tube, of all places. "Congratulations on your promotion to Second Officer. I could think of no more appropriate candidate for the role."

He found himself chuckling at a sudden memory. By the winds, it felt so long ago. "Commander Hendricks used to say you were made for command, back when he and I were in the Senior Staff together."

How was he supposed to tell her, to convince her that he'd been a mere prism? A conduit for a dark refraction. Hopefully, she had already accepted this as the truth, given the fact that she'd come to see him.

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan  [Show/Hide]
Entering the room was the hardest thing that Natalie Stark would do that day. Not the eventual conversation that would follow. Not even seeing the man for the first time. No, it was stepping forward enough, to trigger the door sensor. Because up until that point, she could walk out. Theoretically, at least. And he wouldn't know she'd lost her nerve. He wouldn't know what it cost her. Those grey doors, standing between her, and him, and all the nightmares that had come to haunt her in the past few weeks.

Just turn around, and walk back to the lift. Let it sweep her away from the security center. Maybe go for a walk in the arboretum? Or take an impromptu trip down to the planet. She'd not really spent all that much time on Aldea so far. Treat herself to some shopping therapy? She'd heard that worked wonders for other women. Why not her?  There were the holodecks as well, of course, but there was an actual planet right there...

But if she did that, she'd let the others down. She'd been ordered here, and turning now would brand her a coward. An angry look flashed over her features as her disgust caught up with her thoughts.

She stepped forward. The door sensed her, and swung open after a momentary pause. One foot in front of the other. Step. Step. Step. Nothing else mattered. The guard stopped her then, and they exchanged a few words that, later, she wouldn't be able to recall. Just a confirmation of why she was here (as if there was any other reason for someone to be here, as if the guard didn't already know, possibly before she'd known for sure herself, that she'd be here). A quick check to ensure she wasn't bringing anything in she shouldn't. Just doing his job, she knew.

And then he led her to the cells. Through the security gate, letting her enter, standing to one side.

"That will be all," even to her own ears, her voice sounded tight. Cold. Those blue eyes were locked onto the gaze of the man behind the force field. The dark hair, the oh so familiar jaw line. There were differences yes. She'd read the reports. Seen the files. Seeing it in person was something else entirely. He looked...different. More rugged. Haunted almost. And yes, still damned easy on the eyes.

It turned her stomach.

She came to a stop maybe a foot from the field. Plenty close. Possibly closer than this required. She stood there, clenching her hands behind her back tightly, around the PaDD she held. Out of sight. Don't let him see, don't let him know. The grip was knuckle white, and she wondered which would crack first; the casing her one of her fingers. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her eyes from going just a bit wide, from something dark flashing behind them when he spoke her name. She'd not heard his voice in weeks. By choice.

Hindsight would say that was a mistake. If she'd listened to recordings of him, instead of just reading transcripts perhaps the sound wouldn't have hit so hard. Somewhere deep in her subconscious she'd expected there to be a sinister note in his tone but there was just...nothing. She missed her chance to respond quickly, and the man in the cell continued on. Praising her promotion, and evoking the ghost of a dead man.

And damn him, he'd managed to surprise her. She'd had no idea that Hendricks thought that about her. She was the mousy little assistant, more comfortable hiding in a Jefferies tube and getting her hands dirty, or talking to the ships AI, than she was talking to people. Even when she was helping teach them to do their job, like a good little underling. He thought that? He saw in me what I couldn't?

The thoughts were almost immediately followed by the suspicion that he could be lying to her. What it would gain him in that moment, she didn't know. But the mere thought of it soured the moment for Natalie, and her face fell back into something as vast and empty as her own surname. How could she trust the words?

"Doctor," she replied, carefully. Just like she was flying through a spacial mine field. One step at a time, one dip, one twist. "I would much rather have Commander Wenn alive and holding the position. The honor wasn't worth the cost." A rueful sort of look passed over her face then, as she added in a bitter tone, "Neither promotion was worth the blood paid for them." Natalie was hardly the first officer to find herself advancing in her duties and responsibilities because of the death of a colleague. Space was a dangerous place. But since she'd come to the Theurgy it was only through misery and attrition that she climbed the latter toward the command that others seemed to feel her destined for, and far too fast at that.

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus 
[Show/Hide]Nodding slowly where he stood, Lucan smiled bitterly. "A fair sentiment, I agree. As much as you might qualify, I'd rather they were still here." It was a sour note for him too, since he'd rather have been the one to detonate the Omega Device. Then, at least Wenn Cinn would still be there, protecting the crew. He chose not to dwell on it, even if it could - perhaps - have been the ultimate means of redemption for him. As it were, he had to abide the remainder of the mission inside a holding cell, lest the scientists found a way to remove the parasite from him.

Even then, would there ever be any forgiveness for him? By the winds, the odds seemed bleak.

"I understand your reluctance coming to see me," he intoned next, the discomfort quite obvious in her whole body language if he was any judge of such things, "the reasons numerous and obvious... and regardless the reason you're here now, thank you. Visits are scarce, and I cannot communicate with the crew since I might learn something the darkness can't. May I..."

He paused. Was it wrong to say anything? Was he making her too uncomfortable bringing it up? Perhaps what had happened between them remained a secret still: Stark never having told anyone? Her visit in the Brig was being recorded, so perhaps he ought to be vague enough to keep her from facing any hearings about the matter? He closed his tattooed hand, and looked away, knowing what he'd subjected her to was worse than the mere act itself. He knew how she might have wondered if he'd infected her with what he carried, ignorance of the parasites still prevailing. Had he made her wonder about her own viability as an officer after what he'd done to her? He hoped not.

"May I just say I am sorry, even if it wasn't truly me..." he said quietly, looking back at her with his pale grey eyes. "I have been subject to this thing for so long, and with all the vile things I did, my will and mind so twisted... I feel like I can neither apologise enough, nor redeem my name. I have no right to ask yours or anyone's forgiveness, for I know that my unwilling participation in all the atrocities I've committed is hard to accept. I know that it's presumptuous of me to even ask for understanding, the nature of this things inside me a riddle still, but nonetheless... l wish to express my regrets. For all of this."

He knew he ought to speak of him being a victim in all of this, but not now. Not in front of her. He just couldn't bring himself to play that card in the earshot of someone he'd violated. It may not have seemed so to her at the time, but after she learned the truth? He couldn't even keep his emotions from his face.

"By the winds, if I may hope for anything, please believe how I wanted none of all this to happen," he said quietly, hoping against all odds that Stark hadn't already made her judgement of him before coming there.

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Jesaya @fiendfall  [Show/Hide]
Does he really mean that? Natalie asked herself. They had been friends - Wenn, Hendricks and Nicander. Natalie was well aware of that. The moment in the lounge wasn't lost on her - the last casual conversation she had with the former security chief and former chief of medicine for the Theurgy, with Stark providing a poor, if pretty substitute to the departed Commander Hendricks. She's listened to their stories about a man she'd admired and the fondness in Nicander's voice was impossible to miss. Had even that been a lie?

Academically she knew that the doctor had offered himself up during the events in the Azure Nebula. It was undeniable that he tried to sacrifice himself and the Captain overruled him, instead allowing Wenn Cinn to be the one to die unleashing the destructive power of the Omega Device, stopping an invasion of Borg from the Delta Quadrant and completely cutting the Nebula off from warp travel for decades to come. Had he been allowed to die, the strategic advantage they now had would have been lost.

But a part of Natalie wished he'd been allowed all the same. Funnily, she could just about believe that Nicander wished it as well.

Natalie wasn't sure if she'd expected the attempt at an apology and the grattitude he seemed to express at her near presence or not. She hadn't really expected him to toy with her, to lord over her what they had done. Not really. In her nightmares, perhaps. His face would morph into something sinsister as he recounted every little detail of their tryst in the bowels of the ship, relishing her discomfort as he recalled ravishing her body. None of that mustache twirlling villainy seemed present now. He simply seemed...exhausted. Desperate to be believed and worn down by what had happened.

For just a moment her face betrayed the war inside as she remained silent, staring at him. Her expression rippled, a mix of anguish and anger. Color drained from her face, only to rush back with a vivid scarlet intensity. Her lips curled into a snarl that seemed so very much at odds with everything that anyone knew of Natalie Stark. Despite herself she took a step forward, and then another, so that she was right in front of the forcefield. She let her eyes bore down on Lucan's, looking for any hint of the thing that resided within.

"I don't care about your winds. I don't care that you're grateful that I'm here. I don't even care that we both wish you'd been the one to go down with the device in the nebula, even if that is a solid bit of common ground we share." There was just a hint of a tremble in her voice as she whispered the words at him. "But I do want you to know that the moment we can extract that thing inside you without killing you, that I well and truly hope I get to be the one that wipes it out of existence. And I hope I can find a way to make it hurt."

That hadn't come up in any of her chats with Lt. Commander Hathev. She'd not mentioned the desire to Vanya, though she had finally told her friend everything that had happened between her and the Doctor. "I hate what happened. I hate that I cannot tell how much was, and is, you, Lucan, and how much is that wretched thing. And I hate that I can, and do hate. It's rather new to me, just like having command thrust on my shoulders and I'm finding a distressing apptutide for both."

Perhaps he would be distressed at the sheer vitriol in her whispered voice. Or maybe he'd take hope that, despite it all, she was drawing a line between him, and the thing inside him. Even if she couldn't trust him.

Thrusting herself away from Lucan, she turned her back, paced away and shut her eyes. It was a struggle, but she counted down from ten, silently in her head, waiting for her fist to unclench and her arm to stop shaking. It wasn't easy. She'd shown so much more than she had wanted to, and it felt like he - it - had won something from her. But she calmed, as best she could, and swallowed it all back into the tightly locked cage in the pit of her stomach. Turning again, her face was still slightly red, but not nearly as vibrant now. "Besides, Lucan, that's not why I'm here. This...isn't about me, or you and I and all that's gone on between us."

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus 
[Show/Hide]Unexpected, for certain, such did Lucan find Stark's rebuttal. The cultural clash of disrespecting his sayings aside, the affront inherent of her meaning, and not caring for his words and wishes, it wasn't anything he'd expected from her. He wasn't sure if the discrepancy of wanting him to be dead and wanting to hurt and kill the beast inside him told him anything, aside the possibility that she wasn't speaking on literal terms about either. Unsure where she was at in her rationale, he took a step back and regarded her with his pale grey eyes, wondering if she shared Wenn Cinn's will to sacrifice a host in order to learn more about the enemy. It had been the very reason he hadn't been prepared to reveal his nature after Starbase 84, and coming face-to-face with one of the crew who shared that sentiment wasn't something he'd looked forward to.

But that Stark would share in that? No, he had to believe that it was purely emotional words. Hate, as she put it, towards the ambiguity of his presence, and the dubious nature of his expressions. For what he was and what he had been were essentially the same, only his ambitions and wishes had been warped entirely towards the whims of a chaos demon's goals.

For in all honesty, he still did find Stark quite ravishing, and he had enjoyed her thoroughly, only in part as a spectator and yet also as a warped version of himself. He could understand her hate just as much as his darker side's motivations in that jefferies tubes. Reiterating her words in his mind when she stepped away, he sought solace in one thing. She did separate him from the parasite and it's ill doings, in how it had made him woo her back then. That, at least, suggested that he mightn't have to worry about her intents with the visit. She had not come there to activate the anyonic beam and hit him with the particle-per-second ratio that would fuse the parasite with his innards - killing both him and the thing that was responsible for her defilement.

A whisper came, from the coiling blackness inside, that she had enjoyed herself just as much as they had, but Lucan ignored it.

He said nothing in answer to her vehement standpoint in regard to the nameless darkness, about her capacity of hate or command - how former might both support and undermine the latter. Instead, he folded his mismatched hands behind his back and raised his chin. His pale grey eyes regarded her in silent scrutiny, no longer certain where she stood in regard to his treatment, even though she might have just admitted to merely hating the parasite.

In that, he could but hope. Just as much as he had to hope she wouldn't use her authority in a way that was void of support in Starfleet protocol. Their voyage had been long, their losses many, but the crew had to persevere and not loose themselves.

"Pray tell, then why have you come?" he asked quietly, not about to reference past events more than she had. "Judging by your words, it seems that neither have Kaeris found a way to implement the anyonic particles for a secondary containment beam, nor have the other science team recreated the bioluminescence of the Radiants. I have rendered all the research and knowledge I have available, answered all the questions about my misdeeds... and you've clearly not come out of a personal wish to speak with me..."

He didn't necessarily pause there to hold her opinion about what happened between them in the light, for as willing as she'd been, it had to be the idea that a stranger had defiled her that must have invoked her ire. A malign presence. Or was it that she'd been charmed, blaming herself for her ignorance? Surely Stark didn't care so much about pride? He shouldn't even care. She had her reasons, clearly. His curiosity was, in fact, more towards her presence, now that he'd accepted that she did not care about him or the winds that animated his soul. Not in the slightest. Not any more.

"So, I am guessing you've come here in an official capacity... with an additional request to make?"

The resentment towards him barely affected him anymore, he found. He just felt exhausted, wanting it all to end with his freedom from both parasite and cell alike.

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan  [Show/Hide]
Having vented her own spleen, Natalie was able to take a step back, mentally, and take stock of herself, and the man on the other side of the force field. A cold civility had settled in the expanse that had grown between them. That there had been a time when no such distance existed was both hard, and easy to fathom for Natalie. It was so very easy to remember all the polite, pleasant conversations passed over months and months of service together, the kind words spoken not long ago, on the eve of battle. And the words whispered on baited breath, hot in a moment of mutual comfort and outright passion. So easy...and so hard. 

Truth was going to be a long time in coming. That much was clear to the woman who tried hard not to project an image of a conflicted officer. The facade would like as not do her no good with Lucian Nicander, whom always had been an adept disciple of observation and bearing a discerning eye for the sentient state of mind. As calm as she might want to come off as, he would see the turmoil she continued to try to school.  But maybe if she just focused on why she was here, she could push forward and get this done. Then soak in the tub. That sounded like an excellent method of stress relief. Perhaps with a large bottle of Romulan Ale. That never caused anyone a problem, right?

Pursing her lips, Natalie gave a small shake of her head, confirming Nicanders suspicions as to the progress the science teams were making in rearguard to this little snake problem. They couldn't yet remove the slug in his gut, and the use of  anyonic particles would not allow the theoretically reluctant host to survive. And whatever abilities the Radiant's had with suppressing the parasites had not yet been replicated. There was no need to vocalize that. The less she opened her mouth, the less of a chance she'd have of letting something slip. Be it knowledge she did not want to risk the hive mind of the parasites acquiring (the new alliance with the Savi coming to mind), or something more personal. Something she didn't want on the record. 

"You are as perceptive as ever, Doctor," Natalie now had to choose her words carefully. She had indeed come to him in an official capacity. They wanted something from him. "There will come a time, hopefully soon, where we will be able to pull that damned -" she stopped, took a deep breath, and let it out as a slow sigh, trying again. "When we are able to safely  separate you from your unwanted passenger, we are hoping that you might put your Farsight to use." She held up a hand, to forestall any comments. "I do understand that what we are asking is not an easy thing for you, Doctor. I want to stress that this is not something we take lightly, nor do we intend for you to do until after our efforts to deal with your infestation safely. 

"It's in neither of our interests to risk the consequences before we have that solution." There. She'd managed to get the whole request out, without scowling at him. She'd seen no reason to beat around the bush when it came to what Ives and Ducote - and their new allies - were after. She could go further, of course, explain, without saying why, how it might be of benefit to the crew, and a path toward redemption for him. But she wasn't sure that was the carrot to dangle right then.

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus 
[Show/Hide]To say he was surprised at the request would have been a grave understatement.

Lucan's eyebrows rose, and he stepped away from the forcefield while he listened to Stark's words in full. He remembered the hearing no more than a week ago, where Commander Ducote had refrained from giving the order to use the Farsight, taking the advisement of Doctor Kobol  and Counsellor Hathev to heart. So what had changed since then? The difference, it seemed, had to do with some kind of standpoint about not making the request until his sanity and life could be saved from the influence of the parasite. Had they just come to the realisation that it was more ethical of them to use his abilities for the mission if they had the means to pull him back, or separate him entirely from the beast inside? They did, in that case, have a point, but what about the inherent risk of opening himself up to the darkness? Not just to him, but in the manner which he might be possessed, and the enemy might learn something it shouldn't through him?

Deep in thought, he gave the Commander the credit of thinking the request through. He understood how it might support the mission, but if they reached a point where they were able to free him, they were asking him to remain infested nonetheless. By the winds, after all that the crew and he had been though because of the parasite inside... that was a sour idea to accept.

"So after years of being a slave to this thing inside me... and even when in possession of means to free me... you are asking me to remain as I am for just a bit longer?" he asked quietly, and while he wanted to illustrate the cruelty of the request, and explain how it was to constantly doubt himself and his actions - being perpetually unsure if you were yourself or influenced by something else - he didn't. He didn't even mention the bone-deep guilt he felt for what his parasitic self had done over the course of their voyage, the doubts making him feel complicit even if he wasn't. How would she understand the constant, vile notions that came out of the abyss? The nightmarish fodder that went into his thoughts and dreams? The depraved imagination of a foul being marring his every waking and sleeping hour?

Even now, images of himself raping the corpse of Stark on the cold deck passed through his mind. A vivid notion of heaving flesh, coated in blood and sweat. A nerve-curdling laugh escaping through his teeth. His own bitter chuckle wasn't anything like it. At least he hoped the madness didn't seep through the cracks in his facade...

"By the winds, you do not know what you ask of..." he merely said, swallowing down bile in his throat as he glared at the bulkhead of his cell. Even so, he turned his head to look at her - trying to ignore the notion of his demon-self wanting to eviscerate her mid-coitus - and took a deep breath. His frown lessened somewhat. "Rather than me trying to see things at random in the darkness, I wonder if there is something specific you want me to espy? Have you learned anything specific in terms of mission importance, since you come here now?"

He supposed that Stark might or mightn't answer at that early point, since they had yet to solve how he might be freed from his unwanted passenger, but if he was supposed to aid the mission, surely they had an idea of what they wanted to see?

"Furthermore, do you know for how long you need me to do this... before you finally end this nightmare of mine?"

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan  [Show/Hide]
Loath as she might wish it to be, Natalie needed to watch Lucan's reaction to her request. So as much as it pained her, she forced herself to hold his gaze for as long as he would allow it as she put the matter at hand out into the open. Yes, she had some small inkling as to what she was asking, and no, she couldn't really fathom the tortured depths of his soul. From her standpoint, this was a chance for him to make up for some of the evil he had 'unwillingly' committed. Truthfully, she wanted to believe that deep in there, Lucan Nicander was a good man, being puppeted by an evil, slimy slug that didn't deserve what was happening to him. But wanting to believe and actually believing, were two separate things. Struggle as she might, Natalie still couldn't fully divorce herself from her hate of the parasite and the plight of the man.

So it was with that more than slightly biased eye that she now watched the Doctor, how he pulled back, and in on himself, to process what she was asking. It was no small thing, and he readily pointed that out when he finally found his own words. She didn't much care for his choice of words, but then, Natalie was at least perceptive enough to imagine how little he cared for her request in that moment. Given that they were asking him to do essentially that, and given her own outburst before, she supposed he was entitled to his opinions in the moment. "As distasteful as it is for you to hear or contemplate, it is equally distasteful for me to have to ask it, Dr. Nicander."

The laugh that answered that statement chilled Stark to the core, in a fashion she was not at all pleased about. It would likely haunt her dreams later that night. The twisted laugh, a painful thing, would take on its own harrowing shape at her expense, she was certain. She shivered, despite the controlled temperature of the room, and could not help but wonder if the evil thing that lurked behind those eyes was pleased with itself. For she doubted in that moment that it was entirely repressed now, that Lucan was not, ever so slightly, letting it peek out at her. He'd turned away, but back again, now, facing her over his shoulder. It lent an all too sinister cast to his expression. This she doubted was intentional. For what little that mattered.

Taking a slow breath in an effort, vain though it might be, to still her rapidly beating heart, Stark looked away, gathering herself. "Bear in mind, doctor, that I do understand that we are asking you to risk yourself. This is why we are unwilling to act upon this request until we are sure that we can break you away from the thing inside of you, without harming you. We will not risk you in such a reckless fashion as to expose you to the...darkness, as it were, without a way to pull you out of it. Permanently. As repulsive as this whole matter is, we are not monsters." Turning back to face him squarely, Natalie braced herself...

..then let out a low sigh, before launching into the rest of the statement. "The Savi, Doctor. That is what has happened. That is what has changed. Their mere existence in all of this has changed the game." Dancing perilously close to telling too much of the truth, Natalie shoved her hands behind her back again, and once more paced, her legs causing her skirt to swish with every step. There was only so much she could say to him now, but it needed to be said. Natalie knew that she had to make an argument on behalf of Captain Ives and Commander Ducote and whatever better angels still resided in Nicander himself. "It shouldn't be a surprise to you that they are the reason we are asking about this. 

"We believe that the entire leadership of the Savi - the Scion's, as I'm told they are called - are infested by the friends of your current house guest." She pulled a face then, and hastily added, "Sorry. That's a bit more rude than I wish to be." Not an easy thing to say, but she forced it out anyway. "Everything we learned from our people that were on the Versant points to a total infestation of the Savi High Command, their Admiralty as it were. Not just the Scion that was on the one ship that attacked us. One of those... Precept -type vessels could wipe us out of space without blinking. Bat us aside like an annoying gob fly.  We have so very little that we can use against them, Doctor. Not just the Scions, but those infesting Starfleet Command. The fact of the matter is, the tactical advantage being able to eavesdrop on them presents is...too good to give up without at least asking."

So here I am, once again asking you for your support, as the others have done in the past. She thought the words, but they just didn't feel right, and so she didn't say them. Instead, she stood up straight again, squaring her shoulders once more and now crossing her arms under her bust. "I cannot say for how long we would be asking this of you, Doctor, though it would not be an indefinite arrangement. That would be cruel. Frankly its better that I don't speak that aloud. My apologies, but I can imagine you understand. I've probably said more than I likely should but...you deserve to know as much about why we are asking this, as I can give." They couldn't fully trust him in that moment, could not fully be sure that someone else - something else - wasn't looking through his eyes, in the way that they were going to ask him to look through to the Savi. That this wasn't exactly fair was obvious.

But then, nothing about this is fair, is it?

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus 
[Show/Hide]As Stark said, he ought to have expected it. He'd already seen through the eyes of Semathal, the Scion Admiral on the Versant.

"Indeed," he said quietly, despondent in his situation, taking a deep breath. He ran his artificial hand through his unkempt hair. "Why settle with Starfleet Command, if there is an even more powerful body of power to infest?"

The more he thought about it, glimpses of old made more sense. Things he'd seen in the murky waters below the abyss. He slowly paced his cell. "By the winds, I have already noticed things.... dire things. I think, now when you speak of it, that I can see the influences of Savi technology in the Calamity's design. The white hull sections. The propulsion systems. Even the impulse engines of the Reavers wear resemblance to the Initiator-class interceptors that the Savi use."

He knew the Senior Staff was right in making the request, even though he hated the notion of remaining infested when he had a chance to be free at long last. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his tattooed hand, foretelling the obvious. "Starfleet Command and the Scion Admiralty will likely, in the near future, join forces and upgrade the Federation fleet even further. The Calamity was just one of those ships born from that unholy alliance. An alliance born out of necessity for the Federation, I'd imagine. President Bacco could likely face some kind of challenge, which will compel her to accept the technology the Savi will offer to R&D. In other Cycles, I am positive that challenge was the Borg invasion..."

A threat the Theurgy had averted, which left them with...

Of course.

"Judging by the development at Starbase 84, where Captain Hawthorne was arming Donatra's rebel fleet against the Praetor, I think we already know where such a challenge might come from now..." he said, and turned his pale grey eyes towards Stark. "The Romulan Star Empire is already mobilised for war. The Praetor is the perfect substitute for the Borg Queen to incite a galaxy-wide conflict. The Infested might not have the Niga virus undermining all the factions of the four Quadrants. They might not have the Borg to assimilate us while we are deprived or reason and order. They will not be able to tear the Collective apart through the madness of the Queen once it covered the whole galaxy. What they have now... are the remaining powers in the galaxy, and the advanced research of the Savi. More than enough tools tear everything apart, and still prevail."

Numbly, Lucan walked to his bunk, and sat down. Despite how he hated it, he understood. He loathed how regardless of his innocence and willingness to aid the mission, he remained the most despised officer on the ship, and yet they come to him, wanting to exploit him. He wanted to refute them out of spite, for their unwillingness to see how he was a victim rather than a villain, but what kind of Starfleet officer would he be then? One even worse than them.

"I accept," he said quietly, looking at the deck before him.

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan  [Show/Hide]
Once again, whatever reaction Natalie had been expecting to get out of Dr. Nicander as she laid out what she could of their request, what she got was not what she'd been expecting. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead as he began to draw a series of connections that, on the surface, made sense if she gave it a moment to think. True, it could all be some kind of ploy to seem useful, or to win trust but...it did have a ring of truth. Nasty, nasty truth. She'd been on the bridge the first time the Calamity had dropped out of warp, right on top of the Theurgy, and she was there when they finally dealt with the advanced starship. The design similarities popped out at her the moment that Lucan mentioned them, and she paled ever so slightly.

"Damn," she swore softly, ashamed that she hadn't made that connection before - and perhaps pissed in turn that she'd just let on that Lucan had put things together before she had. So much for being smart, she thought ruefully. Given her years in Operations she would have bet even money that she'd be able to make that kind of obvious connection, but then, she was Ops, not pure Engineering, so maybe that was a forgivable slip. Either way, she felt she had to be better.

But then he continued and began to speculate. Natalie found herself crossing her arms tightly about her middle, not at all liking what she was hearing. Worry pulled at her face, the constant mix of mistrust for the source of the information and concern that he was likely right. She bit at her bottom lip, forcing herself not to speak, to let him get it all out. Logically, the direction Lucan was taking this made sense, and Natalie knew she was going to have to report this back to Captain Ives - with her recommendation that they take the threat very seriously. "The empire is a bloody mess, and all this started with our failed attempt to bring about a lasting peace for them. It's almost fitting really, in a nasty sort of way. Stop the virus, stop the Borg, bring things right back to where it all started."

Distaste dripped out of her with every word, as she once again began to pace. This was a direction she wasn't happy going into. The Klingon's of course, would relish an excuse to bloody the nose of the Romulan Empire. The Parasites would see to it that the Federation was dragged into whatever was coming. How to warn them? How to get ahead of it? There was a hint of something at the back of Natalie's head, but before she could grasp it, she heard Lucan speak back up, accepting the request. That stopped her dead in her tracks, and she couldn't hide the surprise on her face. 

"I...well. I'll admit, we thought it would take you longer to come to a decision," she told him, carefully not saying that the staff was pretty fairly split as to if he would agree or not. Nor did she wish to voice what side of that 'bet' she had come down on. Nat looked away for a moment, and sighed, before walking forward and crouching down, coming to an eye level equal to the man behind the force field. "You know my...feelings about everything. I was quite vocal about it, and I don't know if those will change any time soon. Or at all, being completely honest. 

"But for whatever it is worth, I do promise - if it becomes too much, if you start to ...slip, we will pull that plug. You will not fall back." The whole thing made her uncomfortable, forcing her to make a promise to man that, willingly or not, had left her feeling violated in a way no one else ever had. Something that should have been special had been forever tainted now, and a trust that she'd had, a respect, had been so thoroughly damaged. And yet - provided she believed him, that he was honestly in control now, and a victim, not a willing participant - he was willing to continue to put himself at risk. She could do nothing less than make that promise. To do less would let herself down, not just him.

[ Doctor Lucan cin Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus 
[Show/Hide]Having rendered his acceptance to their loathsome request to exploit his dormant connection to the nameless darkness, Lucan had remained seated on the bunk whilst Stark spoke. He sat there, wondering if he would ever be free, or if it was the fate of his wind to course down the same path indefinitely. Would he ever be a puppet to the wills of others, whether they possessed him or not?

Yet he knew that in the end, it was he who had bound himself to a higher cause than his own survival. Not just in terms of him being a doctor, but an officer. His murky memories suggested that he had started out in search for revenge against his own people, for the death of Kisane, but over the course of his experience in the fleet... his priorities might have shifted entirely. Regardless if that was the case, he knew that having become part of something bigger, and opposing that which infested him, he had bound himself to his current trajectory. He had no way of knowing how it had come to pass... but he knew what his parasite-self claimed.

You are a lie.

No, he had to defy the words of the beast within, which claimed his current persona wasn't real. For it claimed he was a construct of insanity. An excuse to live with himself. A lie manifest. The 'good doctor' they had come to love and now hated. It was all a deception from the beginning, made to hide what possessed him. In fact, not just the darkness, but his own ambitions before the Academy. It claimed that the person he now pretended to be never existed, which meant the person he sought to be wasn't even real. He was, it said, merely perpetuating a farce, every waking hour, because he knew nothing else. A never-ending charade. Because of the untruths told, it said he was nothing else.

You are merely a fairy-tale of lies.

Grimacing, Lucan pushed the insidious words aside, refuting the claim. A lie didn't become the truth if constantly told. It still remained a lie to begin with. The truth could still be what he believed in; that he wasn't whom he remembered to be. This vengeful sociopath that had sought revenge for Kisane. No, that wasn't him.

Perhaps not any more, came a whisper out of the darkness, but you were. You know this. So what are you now?

I'm not a lie!

Stark had just told him that they would try to salvage whatever might be left of him after he preformed his tricks for them, but they both knew there were no guarantees when it came to this enemy of theirs. "I'll do my part, regardless what happens to me."

Looking down once more, Lucan wanted to be left alone, before regret had him change his mind and he'd refute her. How could he make her leave? She didn't believe in his innocence, so why would he be kind to her? Perhaps the young woman needed to know what she was dealing with, and what she'd just subjected him to do? Either way, he hoped she'd leave him be.

"The words that surface from the abyss inside," he said quietly, not raising his eyes to her where she crouched outside the forcefield, "they claim we are naught more than an infection, thinking we have the right to grow. That we are naught more than energy trapped in an image, like coagulated blood on top of the festering wound of something more pure. The darkness claim to be the cure, wishing to wipe our existence clean... so that the wound may heal properly. Words - as you hear - that compel me, because I am a Doctor. They are, essentially, my words, only twisted by the hunger of the dark that linger in me."

Frowning, he raised his pale grey eyes to Stark. "I think Sonja Acreth was more honest, in her advanced stage of possession, or her host body's fear of it. She claimed... that the enemy was a force of nature that sought to devour everything. That it is no healer at all... but an entity that twist and feeds off existence. I found this more likely, when I stared into the darkness last. It is the end of everything."

Uncreation, on a cosmic scale. Everything would descend into the chaos plane.

"Whichever way be the case..." he said quietly to his poor visitor, who would have to lead people against it...

"...it's coming."

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Brig | Security Center | Deck 07 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan  [Show/Hide]
The grimace on his face was none to comforting to Natalie, but then, her words seemed to lack a sort of comfort for him, despite her best effort. Nothing to be done about that, she supposed. Comforting him wasn't exactly easy for her at the moment. She made the effort, salved a bit of her consciousness. It was all well and good that he would do his part, and seemed willing to accept the risk that he might not exist after. A part of Natalie found that tragic, that there might be a good man in there willing to condemn himself. A part of her found it poetic.

She was pretty sure she didn't like that part. She wasn't sure she disagreed with it either. In all honesty she just wanted to get out of there. Natalie took a breath, readying herself to depart, with every intention of standing up, smoothing the skirt and tugging down on the hem of her jacket. But before she could politely extricate herself, before she could even begin to rise, Lucan spoke (with the same motivation of driving her away as she had for leaving, not that she would know), in a harrowing tone that left Natalie rooted where she stood.

Language had a special way of painting a picture. Words could only do so much, of course, and some linguistic cultures were far more descriptive than others. Federation standard lacked the breath and depth of categorization for rain that the Ferengi possessed, as an example. But tone...Tone was almost universal. And the tone that Dr. Nicander now took did as much damage, if not more, than the words he chose to impart on Natalie. The room itself seemed to darken along with his voice, a coldness creeping up her leg, sending a shiver along her spine and causing her heart to skip a beat, before rapidly increasing in tempo. Something in the way he talked triggered her fight or flight response, and she felt nothing so much as prey in the face of an ominous predator.

Fire, more than anything else, was humanities first great accomplishment, for it kept the darkness at bay. In the shadows lurked the true terrors, that which could not be seen, and must be feared. Thousands of years of human evolution, and Nicander's words sent her right back to the edge of that darkness, and the flames of safety were sputtering out. Somehow, Natalie managed to rise back up to her feet and take a few staggering steps back, swallowing, her throat dry, a scream clawing its way up, only to be forced back down into her stomach.

It's coming. Were there any more ominous words in Federation Standard? They echoed in Natalie's brain, triggering other dark portents, learned in childhood. "By the prickling of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes..." A line from a play, a warning to those in the audience of something dark, of danger approaching. A danger she needed to tell Captain Ives of. All of it. Perhaps the old words were a more poetic rephrasing of the doctors premonition, but there was no comfort to be found in the lyrics of the ancient Bard.

All there was left to do, was stand or flee.

- FIN