Star Trek: Theurgy

Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

January 09, 2020, 06:19:51 PM

[ Y'Lev | Galo Zeshryr's Quarters | Deck 8 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] @fiendfall

"Crewman Galo Zeshryr's log." Y’Lev spat into the air with a most aggressive tone of sarcasm twisting around his tongue, the mocking lash of his words scathing only the walls and his chiropteran companion. If he’d been in a less volatile state of mind, he might’ve considered his energy wasted, what with no Starfleeters around him to get offended at his words… Yet, his mind was turbulent, and his intentions were fixated elsewhere...

"According to the latest plague of gossip overtaking this convent of a ship, I’ve once again found myself at the mercy of the incompetence of others…” He seethed, his deft green digits working to secure his harness into place across his upper torso. “A wandering Catian on the prowl for a fur-favoring Klingon went and got herself snared in a Syndicate run slavery opperation…” He paused, taking a second to concentrate upon the buckle that felt so blissfully chill upon the sensitive side of his chest. “And of course, being on a Starfleet vessel, she was rescued. Happy endings, how delightful.” Y’Lev added with a much needed scoff.

“What everyone seems to have failed to fathom, however, is that now the Syndicate representative who orchestrated the kidnapping, will now most likely aware of Federation presence in this system.” He paused once more, his fingers engaging with the buckle upon his left side, pulling the leather tight enough that it almost bit into his skin. “So we now have the double edged sword of angry felines out for Orion blood, and a Syndicate representative who is one report away from exposing the presence of this vessel to the parasitic invaders that I have been made aware of. And with that information, they will no doubt be able to consolidate upon the information, and have their infiltrators within the Syndicate broadcast this ship’s location to Parasites in every other major power throughout the quadrant.”

Y’Lev inhaled a sharp, deep breath, and allowed his lips to birth a woefully frustrated sigh. Truly, his life was a spectacle now.

"If the crew of this ship have made note of this threat, whatever stringent procedures that they have put in place, are already taking longer than tolerable.” He scolded. “I have made arrangements to head down to the planet's surface, so I may eliminate whatever threat this slave driver may prove to be.” Y’Lev finished tugging up upon his harness as he finished the sentence, glancing up towards the mirror located in his quarters, thirstily examining his own body and the way the supple leather accented his form. He was overjoyed that it was traditional enough Orion attire to be considered the acceptable disguise for a merchant, even if he did need to adorn it with a sack-like robe over the top.

He flicked at the dancerdaggers maintained within his rings, lifting the weapons up to catch the glint of the light and examine them. Their sharpness still sung with inherent lethality, all traces of Borg fluid long since cleansed from their surface. He coldly smirked, before returning to his amusing mockery of Starfleet tradition.

"As a side note... No wait... Supplimental. I also intend to procure some form of mammalian-lizard to present to Commander Hathev as a gift. My aim to discover one as sour faced as she, but I am aware that this undertaking will prove to be extremely challenging.” He spoke as he examined the sharpness of his blades, refurling them back into his rings when satisfied that they would be more than efficient to eradicate the threat he would be facing down upon the planet’s surface. “Yet, I am prepared to stretch to whatever lengths required to demonstrate to the Commander how much of a place in my heart she occupies."

"End log."

Y'Lev, of course, had not been recording anything into his log that could incriminate him, instead tempering his own dour mood by mocking the Starfleet way of keeping records of information that couldn't fit into their own heads. The only recipient of his words were the ears of his companion, the mammal, who had watched him with wide eyes throughout the entire ordeal and had afforded the Orion congratulations in the form of beginning to groom itself for the fourteenth time since Y'Lev had returned from his meeting.

He'd counted.

It truly baffled the Orion that the slave driver had not instead robbed the Catian of her pelt and been done with it… A pelt fetched a far higher price on the open market unless than a slave, even to an especially keen purveyor of furry delights. Y’Lev scowled ferociously, accusing the damnatiable irony that he was about to put himself at great risk to save a Federation Vessel. Yet he couldn’t even strain the smallest hint of amusement out of it, his face falling bleek even as he gave his mammalian companion a caress utop its head.

If he failed, he doubted that his companion, nor anyone aboard the ship, would be remotely equipped to deal with the ambush from Task Force Arachnid, or whatever the blasted movement was called. A grim expression soured upon his face as he concluded the attention he was affording the creature, making it look up at him with his dark, unblinking eyes, his furry little snout twitching ever so slightly at the air from the soft scoff Y’Lev produced at the creature's infuriating cuteness.

Part of him wished that he’d never fallen party to the assignment of investigating the USS Theurgy and its accompanying stress. It was the same part of his gut that regretted infiltrating the USS Bellerophon, getting caught in the conflict with the Theurgy and then Borg, even having traveled to Starbase 84 in the first place. He scowled once again, gritting his teeth as he stepped out of his quarters, barely affording the confines of the space a second glance, save the check whether his companion was making any attempts at escape once more…

Y’Lev supposed that his mental scathing of the events leading up to his upcoming, travelled back as far as his incident with the Andorians on Risa; a demonstration of his skills so exceptional that he gained the attention of Legatus Z’Lehxa. It was she who raised his rank under her patronage and was the eventual gifter of his task to investigate the USS Theurgy. She’d always been keen on tailoring his actions towards the Federation or the Klingons, and naturally it had never crossed his mind that he’d ever be caught in a position where he’d be forced to take the side of his adversary…

But, he supposed, he’d never had considered that a conspiracy as overwhelming as this, would have ever existed…

It was true what they said. Ignorance was indeed bliss.

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #1 – January 09, 2020, 07:58:56 PM

[ Xelia/Adisia | Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] attn: @TWilkins

Well. That certainly could have gone better. Why had the little one had to struggle so hard? She would have enjoyed her new life eventually, she could have come to see it as the gift it was. Someone as exotic as her wouldn't have been sold on any old street corner, she would have lived in the lap of luxury, pampered and treated like a princess, all because of her lovely little tail.

Oh, Xelia saw the attraction. The poor thing had been utterly adorable.

But now she was gone, and her mate with her, leaving a trail of injuries in his wake — and really, how uncalled for, that level of violence! Poor P'Atik had been nursing a dislocated shoulder for hours. To say nothing of Kirim.

They were idiots, the both of them, but then that was what Xelia needed these days. Times like these, she missed Vaxus the most. She wondered whatever had happened to him. Probably killed the moment she fled, poor boy. What a shame!

But now she had bigger concerns than the fate of her old slaves, thanks to the incompetence of her new ones. And, well, her own. A few years ago and she would've loved nothing more than to be here, like this — that's Venator Adisia to you, slave — but, well. Hiding away on a planet peopled entirely by backwater hicks rather took the fun out of it. This place barely connected to the Net! How could she possibly be expected to live here? She was dying for a decent connection, and a machine made more recently than the 23rd century — going back to isolinear after getting used to bioneural was such a drag. It was hardly surprising she'd made a mistake, using this kind of technology, and with the useless idiots she had for help!

Not that the Syndicate would care about her excuses, of course. All she could do was hope they weren't one of Z'Lehxa's people, or trying to curry favour with Z'Lehxa's people — or, of course, one of the real Adisia's enemies, who had in fact been successful in their attempts once already. If P'Atik and Kirim couldn't even handle two stray kittens they'd be turned to paste by anyone remotely competent.

Still. She had a few days before any of that was a problem; a few days in which to do something so wonderful the Syndicate would forget about her little mistake. She had time; they would have to import an agent from off-world, as she was the only senior operative they had on the planet and the others in the system were all practically braindead they were so stupid. If the Syndicate sent one of them after her, frankly she'd be offended. Even Kirim could handle those fools.

If she was still at home she could've tried to find who they were sending after her. Oh, she still had all her little backdoors, but her computer could barely handle more than one text file open at once; and besides, she was in the middle of nowhere, lightyears away from anywhere with decent reception. Even with her old machine, she might have been able to hack into the Aldean government's library system (and what a fascinating trip that would have been, she could have discovered if they really did breed all their little gestalts to be as boring as possible or if that was just a side-effect of their stupid little corner of space), but anything outside the system would've been tricky without a number of subspace buoys set up and really, who had the time?

No, she had to be content leaving it as a surprise. And really, she did like surprises — such fun! Especially when they might come with an assassination attempt attached. Surprise assassins really were the best kind. Or they had been, when her slaves could be relied upon to deal with them in an entertaining way. These days, surprise assassins were more than likely to actually assassinate her, which would be no fun at all.

Ah, well. She had Saniri and J'Saro monitoring all ships docking in Aldea Prime or the shipyards above, so she should be given plenty of advance warning. If the worst came to the worst, she could always run. There was a shuttle pilot in the dockyards she'd been blackmailing, he could get her off the planet at least. And from there… Well. The plan wasn't exactly complete yet.

But she had time for that. At least a few days. She was certain of that.

So you can imagine her surprise when it was announced that the Syndicate representative was not, in fact, 'at least a few days' away, but instead in the atrium of her establishment, waiting for an audience.

Oh, she wasn't dressed for this at all!

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #2 – January 09, 2020, 08:38:25 PM

[ Y'Lev |  Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] @fiendfall

Y'Lev was no less than distraught to find that being trapped like a slave aboard the accursed Theurgy vessel, seemed to suddenly be far less distressing than being stood with his feet firmly upon the streets of a planet. He tried to dismiss it as a simple presence of discomfort lodged in his side, in regards to his impending task, to meet with whatever wilted excuse of a fool was 'governing' Syndicate activity on Aldea, and deal with them accordingly. Or perhaps revision his distress at how hidiously 'moral' Aldea seemed to appear... But not even so deep down, he knew that it was something else entirely; the wretched semblance of safety that the Theurgy provided, even to a Syndicate agent such as himself, against the parasitic threat that he'd seen broadcast before him with his own eyes.

The thought that anyone whom passed him on the street could be one of the aforementioned Parasites, was truly harrowing indeed.

The video that the Vulcan had presented to him was nothing if not abhorrent, his mind's eye recalling the manner in which the indignant beast had flailed in her own carnality, with less sensuality than a Tellarite with gout. Her movements were sickening, especially to a sensually enriched individual such as he. Some, less observant and more judgemental individuals, would perhaps tar Orions and these parasitic hosts with the same filthy brush. Starfleet were judgemental to other cultures by default. Those which didn't directly align with their own values were held in contempt, as though they were less, or immoral, or downright wrong.

But they'd be wrong.

That woman. Y'Lev couldn't help but grimace at the recollection.

What she described was as damning to Orion culture as it was to Federation.

He’d time to think upon it, analyse it with more scrutiny than he had been able to muster when he’d been affixed in the office with Commander Hathev. Orions may have been pleasure centric in the same way that the parasite had described in the recording, in a way that no Starfleeter could ever realistically embrace. They both shared a mutual distaste of Starfleet values and concepts of law, morality and tranquility… Perhaps he even would have made the same mockery towards his own captors should he have been caught during an assignment… But their similarities ended there.

Y'Lev had always been taught to strive for new experiences, to seize what he desired, to strive for what made his senses quake... It was the Orion way, to value the opportunity to embrace pleasure, but to never take it for granted.

And that was the key difference. It was the perversion of one of the most fundamental principles of Orion culture, the value of pleasure, that set his species apart from what he'd seen in the recording he'd viewed. The Parasite mistook pleasure for a trivial pursuit, something not to value, but to defile... To them, pleasure was just another whimsical construct that they planned to eradicate alongside the rest of existence. Orions and Starfleeters alike.

The Orion swallowed a breath of nervousness as he glanced up at the Divine Delights inscription upon the entranceway.

He had never thought his life were to come to this. He had alwasys been loyal to the Syndicate beyond all else in his life. And now, he had no choice but to betray them in the most heinous of ways, an action that, to any onlooker, would appear to brand him as a defector to Starfleet of all organisations... It was mortifying, but it wasn't under debate. He'd compiled not near as much evidence as he'd hoped, but fate had pushed him to a situation where he was forced to choose a side.

And he'd chosen one.

He couldn't afford for the knowledge of the Thuergy's location to reach the ears of the Syndicate, nor any Parasite's working within it. It would destroy the Theurgy, and if he himself didn't die the day that the Theurgy was blasted out of the Aldean orbit, he'd die not so long after, when the Parasite's enacted their cataclysm. There was little pleasure guaranteed to be had after death... If he had to kill a fellow Orion to protect himself from an untimely fate, he'd do so without remorse.

Pretending that his decision was made in the ideals of self-interest was more comfortable to stomach... Admitting that suddenly his ideals aligned with that of a Starfleet vessel was more than he could cope with...  He could temper the knowledge with the thought that the Theurgy no longer represented just Starfleet, but it represented survival. Still, Y'Lev's lips struggled with an expression less than sour...

But, perhaps that was just from the discernable odour of urine that clung to the air on the street he had haphazardly found himself to...

With a sigh of exasperation fleeing his mouth at the unruly circumstances he found himself immersed in, he strode forwards into the bathhouse before him, his comfortable leathers far more freeing than the swaddle of irritation that he'd been forced to suffer for the past week-or-so. Divine Delights, the sign displayed above the doorway. The name was unartful enough that already he was feeling a significant amount more comfortable with the idea of murdering whoever run the cesspool he was stepping into; it would be the most artful thing to have ever happened in the venue for certain.

Divine Delights, there was nothing either divine or delightful about the establishment. As he stepped inside and was confronted with a receptionist swathed in a myriad of colours and layers upon layers of make-up, he couldn't help but wonder if killing everyone within, and then burning the place to the ground, might make him feel a little better. The idea was all but confirmed when the receptionist greeted him by opening her mouth and screeching like a pterosaur, bombarding him with what he assumed would be a cursory statement about the services offered in their establishment.

Apparently, there was a tendency to assume Orions would be big spenders in pleasure houses... He'd never understood that particular notion. Why would anyone pay when earning was free... And oh-so enjoyable... Seduction was by far the superior method of achieving pleasure, the tantalisation of the chase and the thrill of the result, working for it, teasing it out, draining it of every drop that it contained... He raised his eyebrow as the receptionist offered him a data-display, with no doubt a plethora of dry pleasures on offer for his perusal. Y'Lev simply scoffed.

Divine Delights... The only thing on their data-display that was even approching the below-average mark, was a footrub boasting the use of three essential oils. It was truly inspiring, as though a deity had revealed itself to Y'Lev in all its glory. The deity of woe and inadequacy, perhaps. With a scoff, he knocked the data-pad out of the receptionist's talloned hands, like a feline with a glass on a table, raising a gleeful eyebrow as it clattered to the floor with a significant crack.

Whilst he took a short moment to revel in the receptionist's aghast expression, Y'Lev twisted his forearm towards her in silence and hoped that even a dim-witted Aldean would appreciate the meaning of such a tattoo. Her vacant-yet-overwhelmed expression that only increased the presence of her multiple chins, indicated otherwise... And then something clicked behind her eyes, and she looked a little frightened, clumsily stepping backwards into a potted plant that spilt dirt across the tiled floor, before giving him a trembling nod, clumsily steering herself backwards through curtains of multicoloured silk and disappearing.

The Orion steeled himself, wishing that he at least had some sort of bio-toxin on his person to debilitate his quarry with... His pads of his thumbs pawed at the dancerdaggers concealed upon his fingers...

A part of him amusingly considered the look on Commander Hathev's face when he revealed to her that he'd risked his life to save the Theurgy.

The thought was fleeting though... The curtains rustled before long, and the Orion's slow blink was all he needed to channel the focus of a ruthless killer.

Assuming all went to plan. The Syndicate would have one less agent on Aldea, and the Parasites would be none the wiser. He'd consider burning the brothel and make it look like an act of a dissapoined patron, something he imagined wouldn't be hard to believe seeing as he could buy a costal villa on Risa for the fee they charged for a three hour session with a 'Trio of virulent Klingon males (Advance order only)'.

Perhaps he ought to go into the pleasure buisness himself, if the latest saga of desectration came to an end before he did... 

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #3 – January 10, 2020, 01:28:16 AM

[ Xelia/Adisia | Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] attn: @TWilkins

How had the slimy little bastard managed to get past Saniri and J'Saro? She had given them one job, the type of easy thing even a child could handle, the kind of thing Xelia could do in her sleep, and they had still managed to be less use than a dead kheris spider. What had these idiots sold for, 200 dejebbits each? She wouldn't pay half that for them. She wouldn't pay to have them wipe her boot, they'd probably ruin it.

And now it was Xelia who paid the price, with no time to change! She couldn't keep the Syndicate representative waiting, of course not — she might have played power games with her clients back home, but here she was on the back foot and she knew it.

No, she needed to greet the bastard, make her apologies, and send him on his way before he had a chance to recognise her and get any stupid ideas. She'd hate to have to kill him, that would really put a dampener on her evening, if only because then she'd have to get P'Atik to help her with the body which would mean killing him afterwards… It'd be a whole mess. Better to avoid it if possible.

Well, she did what she could to amend her appearance, which mostly consisted of refreshing her make up and pouting at herself in the mirror until she was satisfied. Suitably stylish, but missing much of her usual flare. Void, being Adisia was so boring. The sooner she got off this stupid little rock the better. At least if she did have to kill the Syndicate boy it'd be a bit of excitement, and maybe even give her an excuse to leave.

Right! Time to see what stunning delights her latest visitor brought for her.

She entered the entranceway dramatically, standing at the top of the stairs and surveying her guest beneath her. The Divine Delights Bathhouse was an embarrasment to the name; if it was really her business and not Adisia's she would have been ashamed to say she ran it. Tacky, dirty, and looking like it was designed by a Ferengi with a sense of style about thirty years out of date, it was hardly the metropolitan destination it should've been — and could've been, if she was allowed to run it properly and didn't have to distract herself with all this boring Syndicate business.

He looked young and sour, but he was handsome enough and she could scent him from here. He tasted like Kinarvon incense and southern orchids. Definitely Syndicate, even if the air of displeasure about him hadn't given him away. Ugh, it's like those people never let themselves enjoy anything — and what's the point in hoarding power if you can't let yourself have fun with it? She'd take a good night out over their stuffy plotting and planning any day.

'My dear, it's so good to see you!' she called down the stairs, sweeping down them to greet him with her customary kiss on each cheek. Pulling back, she looked him up and down, brushing Aldean dust from his shoulder. 'Poor thing, coming all this way just for little old me. The travel must have been awful! Please, come upstairs, take a bath, rest yourself! I'll send someone along to take care of you — do you have a gender preference or shall I send a selection?'

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #4 – January 10, 2020, 10:09:52 AM

[ Y'Lev |  Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime] @fiendfall

The Orion woman, stepped out from the silken curtains with hair flowing and luxurious, her form ample and attractive, her eyes lined with dark makeup that made them look larger than reality. He was sure that the Aldean populace found her positively enchanting. He found her somewhat bland; women offering the very same aesthetic were plentiful in Kinarvon. Plentiful was common. Common was boring. Y'Lev afforded her a tight smile at her greeting, the left corner of his mouth sneaking up as she spoke, welcoming him to her establishment, greeting him with a kiss on each cheek and reaching out to brush at his shoulder… A rather pitiful attempt at a power move, if he ever did see one.

She introduced him warmly, fondly, speaking as if they were colleagues who had known each other for years. For a moment, he wondered if he’d slept with her sometime in the past, but he dismissed the notion fairly promptly. She was far from his type, mundane and flavourless. He wouldn’t have afforded her much more than a cursory eye-undressing even in a . Though, she did look familiar, a striking resemblance in his mind’s eye that he couldn’t quite place…

The woman continued to fluff her words, addressing him as a startled kitten as opposed to a Syndicate Agent, condescending certainly, but not entirely unusual for a Syndicate interaction… She invited him upstairs to take a bath, offered him someone to assist in his needs, asking whether he had a preferred gender or whether she should send a selection… The thought was stomach-turning.

"Naturally, I’m a welcome sight in any establishment, and meeting you, my dear, has been nothing less than mundane, I promise you." The comment was pointed, with a matched smirk, however small it was. It was common to be both courtly and impolite in conversation with another Orion, that he was a male probably made the dark haired jezabel all the more keen to walk-all-over-him. Y’Lev had no intentions of letting that stand… He took her hand softly in his own, pressing a chaste kiss against her soft skin, reveling in the inhalation of her luxurious perfumes. He in comparison, probably smelt like an amalgamation of chiroptera, liquorice and undefined pheromones. In a way, his scent was far the more exotic of the pair. "But rest assured, your services will not be required…”

"And what a blessed relief that that is." Y'Lev dipped his tone into a breathy chuckle, one part humourous, one part mocking. It was very Orion. "I did take a moment to peruse the services that your establishment offers and frankly, I couldn’t bear to put myself through such misery. Even my masochism has its limits…” Oh how he’d missed being able to so effortlessly work to cause such affront to someone without risk of reprimand. How dour his Starfleet existence was proving to be... “I do make an effort to avoid the more pedestrian practices; they tend to fall a little withered on my tongue, so to speak..." It was ironic, considering he'd had to change a power distribution node yesterday... He had kept hoping that it would explode so that he'd end up in sickbay and away from the sweaty, hairy Human who kept pressing against him.

Y'Lev lazily tilted his head in the woman's direction, to better read her expression, his odd-coloured eyes scrutinising her in the dim light that grazed between silken curtains. It was promising that she was considerably shorter than him; Y'Lev doubted that her fighting prowess would match his own, in terms of raw power. It gave him an edge if his intention of killing her in one swift blow didn't quite come to fruition.

But still, that would remain his intention.

"No, my dear, a bath will not be necessary, as much as you might wish to see me unclothed, I'm afraid I'm to be forced to deprive you… Such is business...” He paired his comment by shrugging off the shawl he’d been forced to cover himself with, stripping down to his leather leggings and his harness, the four straps adorning his pectorals and making them look sublime. The upper harness framed his neck handily and made him look the perfect half-way between alluring and threatening. “Your office would be the far superior location, if it isn't being occupied by a patron embracing a disciplinarian kink." He deliberately paused, before flicking his hand near his head dismissively. “Oh how daft of me, of course it’s free. This place is as sexless as a Vulcan blowjob.” Illogical, he heard Hathev’s voice ring out. It amused him greatly.

“So yes, your office, if you please…” He politely requested, stepping into her personal space to press his mouth flush against her ear, close enough that his tongue tasted the sweet sweat lingering upon the shell, so delightfully nectary that he had to remind himself that he was here to murder the woman, not attempt to seduce her woefully bland form... "I heard a little something about a kidnapping... It all sounded spectacularly inadequate..." He left the statement to hang in the air, to let her squirm a little. She outranked him, and it wasn't often he got to challenge his superiors.

He'd savour the rich taste while it lasted.

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #5 – January 10, 2020, 02:22:32 PM

[ Xelia/Adisia | Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] attn: @TWilkins

Well wasn't he delightfully horrid! What an adorable little snake. She gave his cheek a last affectionate pat before pulling away, smiling.

'Oh darling none of that, we're going to be wonderful friends you and I,' she said brightly. 'Mundane' indeed! Clearly he'd never tried one of her holo programs. She could recommend him one or two, he looked like he'd enjoy 'Temptress by the Sea' or '3hrs Brain Massage No Talking'. Two undeniable classics.

But she was here as Adisia; she pouted slightly at the reminder. Ugh! It really was disgustingly boring pretending to be someone else, how did those Syndicate people ever manage it? They must all be disgustingly boring to begin with, poor things. She wanted to just whisk them all away and take them somewhere fun. Everyone should have fun, even silly little Syndicate children, or really, what was the point of it all?

It seemed her guest was determined to stay boring, though. What a shame, clearly the boy had no imagination.

Then again, he did have a point: the menu here was laughably uninspired. Designed for locals who had never had much excitement and might die from too much stimulation, she supposed. Either that or the person who came up with it had been sickeningly vanilla.

She laughed as he turned down her offer. 'Oh kitten, you think the listed services are the only ones we provide?' She tutted sweetly. 'You really must try ordering off-menu sometime.' Very true, but he had probably made the smart choice this time. The slaves here were all as uninspired as everything else about this dusty little planet; she wouldn't trust them to seduce a spoon without a script. Poor dears.

The Syndicate boy stripped off his baggy Aldean clothing — a good choice, they'd been very unflattering; the harness he was left with was far better for his frame. She ignored his jab at the establishment: he was right, of course, this place was terrible and she hated it far more than he could. She couldn't be bothered to even try to defend it. It was just a shame he would think it was her doing, as if she couldn't have done so much better — as if she hadn't already done so much better! But she was still being stupid Adisia. Ugh!

The boy's breath tickled her ear as he leaned in close. A power play, obviously. If she'd had anyone other than P'Atik watching her back, she wouldn't have blinked; but she was vulnerable here and she knew it. Still, she wouldn't back down; when you have no defence, the only thing you can do is go on the offensive. She couldn't let him see it of course, but she was desperate.

Pressing a hand to his chest — to keep him at a distance if nothing else — she stroked her way down his face and neck. 'All business today, aren't we?' she said silkily. 'A shame. I'd hoped you'd be more fun.' She held still for a moment, before abruptly pulling back with a sigh and turning to lead him up the stairs to hot, depressing little room that had to serve as her boudoir on this terrible planet. By Aldean standards it was probably quite nice, but clearly no Aldean had ever spent time in a penthouse in Kinarvon. What she wouldn't give for an aquarium!

Well, she had little choice. He'd judge her for the inadequacy of the room, she'd smile and ignore it, and on and on they'd go until he got to the point and left her alone with her stupid little life on this stupid little planet.

It was all so unfair!

Reaching her boudoir, she poured herself a drink and retired to recline on the cushion-covered bed. 'Well?' she said expectantly. 'If you're determined to be boring at least get on with it.'

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #6 – January 18, 2020, 12:01:07 PM

[ Y'Lev |  Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime] @fiendfall

Curious…

That was perhaps the best word he could find to describe the situation he was immersed in, a grimace on his face all the while, the circumstances unraveling into a downward spiral that only drew further and further from what he would have expected their confrontation to be. Such breeziness; it was almost Human like. No urgency to her words or actions, no real concern in her face, no twist of anxiety in her tone, as though the stockpile of problems awaiting her was all beneath her… Not quite how it ought to be.

But that was perhaps the thing he found the most curious. There was nothing untoward about her. Yet at the same time, everything was just inexplicably wrong, every single thing about the whole situation.

She spoke… Oddly… Addressing him as ‘darling’ and ‘kitten’ as she teased him and flicked her hair all over his face as she turned to stroll back to her office, a rancid little sweatbox that was begrudgingly causing him to miss the comfort of his climate controlled quarters upon the Theurgy. Her green hands pawed at his face and neck temptingly, but the force of her warmth upon his bare torso was designed to promote distance; her gestures conflicted, they presented a lie to him on a silver platter… Only, he could not identify which was the lie.

As he still choked at the stagnant air of the sweatbox, she had already poured herself a drink and reclined onto her cushion swathed bed, as though she were dealing with some Adisian governor whom she could beguile with her allure… She afforded him not the slightest modicum of respect; unthinkable, given the circumstances she was in… And to top off the affront, her oafish slave accompanied them into the room, as if some brutish half-wit ‘muscle’ had any right to be privy to anything that either of them had to say.

Nothing she did was behaviour befitting a member of the Syndicate, least not one who had a permanent stationing on a planet… To achieve those sorts of promotions and patronages from one’s superiors, there was a certain attitude that one needed to foster. This woman before him behaved more like a celebrity, someone on a holovid advertising shampoo or perfumes or the latest narcotic craze… There was nothing specific lacking to her… Yet he also understood that there was something fundamentally off about her…

Curious…

The woman before him had just botched a kidnapping on a Starfleet officer, yet she behaved as though she’d spent her morning out on a sunny veranda, basking in the supple summer glow as she sipped on cocktails. Perhaps she was unaware of the Catian’s status as a Starfleet officer? That made it slightly more palatable as a blunder, he supposed… Or perhaps she assumed his gender meant that his rank would be superseded by hers on default? That she was one of those bitter crones who believed that males only served to be manipulated by their ‘betters’? He had to fight off a snort.

If that was the case, she was both archaic, and despicable.

Whether it was that she believed her issues to be trivial if a man had come to collect her punishment for them. Or perhaps it was simple confidence beyond her means? Or even narcissism to the point that she was incapable of realising her own inadequacy? He almost snorted again. It was objectively clear that he was vastly superior to her on all accounts.

Yet she continued toying with him. And as much as he desired to slip a blade somewhere deep into her chest cavity… He had a niggling instinct in his gut to continue the game...

So when he replied to her, he glanced deliberately over his shoulder, looking pointedly at the oaf of a bodyguard who lingered in the doorway to the room. Y’Lev didn’t feel even moderately threatened by the brute; he’d still have been happier if he had been armed to the teeth with bioweapons, but he still expected that the green chunk of muscle would put up less fight than a Deltan with an eating disorder.

“Boring?” He questioned her with a lilted tone of voice, before performing a half-grand gesture back towards the door to the office that she’d led them into. His disapproval for her description of him, in light of the ramshackle attempt at an establishment she’d been running, went without saying. “Remind me to aquaint you with a Human proverb advising not to throw stones in houses made of glass…”

He allowed himself a soft chuckle at that, pacing towards a cabinet lining one of the walls of the room and pretending to admire a soft glass bottle containing a pale blue liquid with concern in his brow.

“I truly hope that this isn’t Andorian Ale of all things…” He posed a look of dire concern in her direction. “You are aware that you’re not living in a Risan Fraternity? I suppose this, fragrant, aroma, might be confusing.” He twirled his finger into the air as he spoke, whimsically insulting her as he bought himself time to think… Stabbing her bodyguard in the throat would be possessed of a delightfully dramatic flair… But it ran the risk of not ending in the death of his actual target. He fought off a slight grimace. How dry… “But in the interest of getting on with it, I suppose we should address your little hiccup with the Catian… Word travels so very fast on back -planets like this, I'm surprised that the Aldean authorities aren't already at your door. Perhaps your receptionist bored them to death with a litany detailing your establishment's sercives...”

He granted himself another humoured chuckle. That, was an especially amusing jab. He considered keeping one of those Starfleet 'logs'.

“In all seriousness, a botched slave-taking isn’t a stellar first impression…” He strolled lithely forwards, gesturing to himself tamely as he spoke, deciding to play the part of a disappointed Syndicate representative trying to make light of the situation. “But I'm willing to overlook it... Might even help you salve your reputation, if you haven't already reported it to your superior?”

It was definitely bait. If she had reported it, he was in dire circumstances…

He brought a slender green digit up to his lips, distractingly toying with them as he anxiously awaited her response.

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #7 – February 01, 2020, 01:17:22 AM

[ Xelia/Adisia | Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] attn: @TWilkins

Xelia had to work quite hard to resist the urge to roll her eyes as the boy, predictably, judged the Divine Delights Bathhouse again. He was right, of course, this place was perfectly dire and frankly she had no idea how she hadn't ended up comatose with boredom already. But that wasn't her fault! Aldea was the worst, and she was having to pretend to be someone else and do all the Syndicate's silly little jobs. If this really had been her establishment, well. It would be quite different.

She wouldn't have set it up on Aldea, for starters.

Still. At least this was a distraction, and a welcome one at that. She arched an eyebrow at the boy, smiling.

'Maybe I like throwing stones,' she said lightly, with a smirk. 'Maybe I like broken glass.' Leaning back, she sipped her drink lazily. It was a cocktail so shatteringly sweet that it set her teeth on edge with a delightful twinge. She adored it. It had taken a full day to program her replicator to be able to make the thing, and even then, nothing beat the version made from imported ingredients she'd lived off back on Vondem, but it was a far cry better than anything else she'd been forced to drink here.

The boy seemed to take an interest in the bottle; she just watched. She wouldn't stop him if he poured himself a drink — really, he ought to have one, he looked wretched the poor thing — but she was hardly going to offer him one. Where would be the fun in that?

He also seemed to disapprove of P'Atik's presence. That one he'd just have to get over. She wasn't stupid enough to meet this guy on her own. And even though she didn't hold out much hope for P'Atik actually beating an assassin if it came to that, at least his speedy death would buy Xelia time to get away.

The Syndicate boy insulted the Bathhouse again — and really it was getting boring now, did he have nothing new to say? Come on now — and Xelia laughed, twinkling. Her standards had fallen so far even Risa seemed preferable to Aldea. 'You're too generous to this planet. The people here are practically Human in their sensibilities; we have to appeal to them somehow.'

At this point, the change in topic to the reason for the Magren's presence was almost a relief. At least it was something new, and who knew? He might say something interesting. Or, he might give her a reason to flee, which honestly wouldn't be ideal but would at least be something new to do.

Still, he couldn't help but insult the Bathhouse again even as he changed the subject. He seemed so proud of himself, as if he had no idea the repetition was about to send Xelia to sleep. Clearly he enjoyed being sly (and really, who didn't enjoy a good insult?) but she would've appreciated at least a little originality. Ugh.

His next words, however, were remarkably original.

'Might even help you salve your reputation, if you haven't already reported it to your superior?'

Who did he think she was? Of course she hadn't reported her own mistake, that would be madness. In fact she didn't really know who Adisia's superior was: the organisation of the Syndicate seemed to be deliberately confusing, and Xelia had become bored after two minutes of trying to figure it out. It wasn't that important, and one of the slaves had made an extremely fun mistake which required ironing out, so frankly she'd dropped that boring old search and gone to shout at people instead. Much more entertaining.

But. She had assumed whoever the superior was had been notified anyway, whether by one of her slaves or by the magic grapevine the Syndicate seemed to operate off. She'd not paid that much attention, honestly. But to hear this boy talk, it sounded as if the superior, whoever they were, didn't know after all.

Which raised a very interesting question. Who sent the Magren?

Oh this was brilliant! She smiled into her drink, watching him like a cat who got the cream. This was perfect. A lovely little mystery! Who are you, little boy, and why have you come here? One of Z'Lehxa's people, found her at last? But then why continue the pretence? One of Adisia's enemies, pounced upon an opportunity to topple her? But then why not embarrass her publicly by reporting her mistake?

Wasn't this fun? Oh, this boy had just made everything worth it, and he seemed to have no idea! How fantastic.

She cocked her head slightly, as if considering. 'That's certainly very tempting. What did you say your name was, again?'

He had never introduced himself. Of course, she'd assumed that was a power play — a boring one, but she could respect it nonetheless. But what if it hadn't been? What if it was because he didn't want any record of his presence here? Because he didn't want her to know who he was?

She looked at him more carefully. Maybe he was someone important? She didn't recognise him, but that's not to say she wouldn't recognise his name — or at least, Adisia might have recognised his name.

Or maybe he was up to something so shady he had to protect his identity. Which, honestly, he could have just used a fake name, that was always really fun. But maybe…

Perhaps he really was an assassin sent here for Adisia. Ooh, wasn't the mystery fun?

'Tell me, Dominus,' she said around a smile full of teeth, 'were you on Aldea when the order to visit me came through? You arrived very quickly indeed, I must say I'm impressed. If I'd known we were neighbours, I would have introduced myself sooner.' She watched him over the rim of her glass as she took another sip. 'Remind me, who was it that sent you to see me?'

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #8 – February 08, 2020, 01:56:23 AM

[ Y'Lev |  Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime] @fiendfall

Y’Lev loftily tilted his head, exposing his handsome jawline, a gaze of curiosity falling down upon the woman before him. His odd-coloured eyes narrowed inquisitively at the way she smirked into her cocktail. Her aloof commentary, her careless mannerisms; he couldn’t pinpoint the issue he was perceiving, but it was there nonetheless.

She unpacked his metaphor about liking throwing stones and breaking glass with bold words, taking apart his cleverly veiled insult and devouring it like a Tellarite as she sipped at the vibrant coloured drink in her hand. Y’Lev half listened to her wilted mutterings whilst his eyes took her apart with all of his scrutiny, examining her features and forms, looking for any clues as to the feeling in his abdomen that made him so direly uncomfortable.

If he had ever made an error so egregious as the one that this woman had just thrust upon the Syndicate, he certainly wouldn’t be drinking cocktails and lazing on a chaise. He’d either be out fixing his mistake, in the hope that the Syndicate wouldn’t punish him so gravely if he balanced out the error, or he’d be compiling report after report to present to his superiors to demonstrate his worth and how his failure was actually a plan years in the making… Failing either of those, he’d be on the next shuttle to the Gamma Quadrant and not looking back.

She was calm, amused, even. She took no responsibility for her failures and seemed utterly unphased as to the gravity of the circumstances she’d found herself in. It was a childish pestilence, the most nauseating form of arrogance... His arrival in her half-mast establishment ought to have had her grovelling on her knees; she hadn’t even offered him a drink…

If he was representing the Syndicate, he’d be her judge, jury and executioner. She treated him like an inconvenience arriving at a most inopportune time…

It was truly curious...

But as per his offer of salving her reputation, she considered the idea ‘tempting’. She asked for his name, before giving him a taking down on his circumstances. Asking him whether he’d already been on Aldea when the order had come through, asked who had sent her to see him… Suddenly Madamé aloof had become the most belligerently inquisitive little thing… He allowed himself a small smirk as he conjured a reply.

He decided to feed her a slither of honesty, to see where it got him.

“So you haven’t owned up to your mistake?” He asked with a lilted tone to his voice, reading between the lines enough to establish that her intentions had been to keep things under wraps. He chuckled a few beats before a trio of tutting sounds fled his lips. “How very deviant of you. And reckless... An awful risk to be taking, considering how far-reaching the ears of the Syndicate are…” He mused as he turned back to ‘admire’ a collection of jewelry displayed on her mantlepiece. “You never know when they could be listening…”

He let his head lollop back to lazily glare at her thuggish associate in the doorway, before continuing his exploration of her possessions. The intention was clear. Her own associates could be feeding intelligence back; she’d doubt herself. It was a darling plan. The suspense was electric…

“But needless to say, you can unclench dear, on my part at least; I’ve been on deep cover for several weeks without any contact with the Syndicate.” The truth, he supposed, omitting just a few, insignificant details. “My only reason for visiting your ‘establishment’, is because the botched kidnapping is the talk of the town right now…” Perhaps a slight exaggeration, he didn’t know whether anyone in Aldea even knew… He decided to backtrack a half-step in the face of credibility. “If you know where to listen…”

“And truthfully, I couldn’t care less about your preferences towards furry delights, I’ll be long gone within a day...” He continued his talk, intending to plant seeds of worry deep within her pretty-little head. “Which makes me the only person here with nothing to gain from ratting your little ‘accident’ out to the Syndicate…” He fought hard to contain his glee, his facing away from her the only reason he allowed himself a grin at his well woven plan. With any luck, his words would have her send her associate out of the room as a result of sheer paranoia, and perfectly set herself into a golden position to have her throat slit…

“So you can rest easy in the knowledge that nobody sent me here to investigate your botched attempt to obtain a fur-lined plaything.” His words were the most intoxicating polymerisation of truth and lie that Y’Lev couldn’t help but feel his lips smirking into a devilish expression once again. “I would truly, truly hate for my report to Legatus Z’Lehxa, to cast you in any ill light whatsoever…”

His tone was dry and unconvincing, sarcastic. It was a power move, designed to confuse and dazzle her at the volume of power he was able to lord over her... His Patron was notable in her dealings and this woman would know doubt be aware of her. Z’Lehxa had risen prominently within the Syndicate in the past few years in particular, her savvy ways of knowing exactly where agents would sow the most discord were comparable to the blessings of a soothsayer. He took a moment to let his patron’s name sink in, before he controlled his mouth into a polite smirk and a raised eyebrow, before turning back to face the woman flopped upon the bed.

“And please do forgive my tardiness..." He apologised with sugar-sweet sincerity. "You may call me Y’Lev, if it pleases you.” Perhaps revealing his name to her wasn’t the soundest tactical decision… But he saw the risk as worthwhile.

After all, if anyone in the room who’d heard it was alive by the next morning, his plans would have gone severely awry indeed…

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #9 – February 18, 2020, 10:39:10 PM

[ Xelia/Adisia | Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] attn: @TWilkins

Well. Wasn't this interesting?

Xelia smiled at the boy over the rim of her glass as she sipped, absolutely delighted with this turn of events. Now she knew there was a game to be played, well, it changed everything. She watched him with interest, now, her initial disappointment at his businesslike manner replaced with excited curiosity. Just who was this boy, and what was he really here for? Was she going to have a nice little conversation with him, or have to run for her life? What a thrill!

His threats were adorable, too. Oh, the Syndicate might be listening in on her? She hoped so. Otherwise she'd been putting on this whole damn show for nothing. If her slaves weren't feeding information back to the Syndicate then this whole charade had been a waste of time, she could have been enjoying herself instead of pretending to be Adisia.

Of course, she didn't know what standard Syndicate practise was. Perhaps it really was the done thing for people to turn around and be honest with their superiors about their mistakes. Somehow, however, she doubted it. Otherwise there wouldn't have been so much fun blackmail material for her to find.

She did have to laugh at his reassurances -- oh he was a sweet little thing, wasn't he? His next words, however, were much more interesting. He claimed to have been in deep cover on Aldea, without contact with the Syndicate. Very advantageous for her if true.

Except it definitely wasn't true.

Come on now, did he think her stupid? Orions were hardly welcome on Aldea at the best of times, and the Syndicate had little more than a passing interest in the planet. There was nothing here! She knew she hadn't been notified of all the Syndicate operatives in the area -- that famously confusing Syndicate structure coming into play again -- but still, a deep cover operative right under her nose? Doing what? Where?

She had her own people, she had done her own research. No, she liked to think she would have at least heard a whisper of this if it was real.

Which led her to the question: why would he lie?

Well of course there were many reasons to lie! First and foremost, it could be delightfully fun, a little bit of deception. But this poor boy didn't look like he'd had fun in years, he'd probably clawed his way up the Syndicate ranks like a good little boy, giving no thought to his own pleasure. The poor dear. What a pity.

Other reasons to lie ranged from the mundane (power play) to the exciting (secret orders). She wet her lips in anticipation. Oh yes, this was getting much more interesting.

She arched an eyebrow, and let him talk.

'I'll be long gone within a day,' he continued, 'which makes me the only person here with nothing to gain from ratting your little 'accident' out to the Syndicate.'

Bless him, he really was adorable. Nothing to gain? Please. He wouldn't have bothered with the trip unless he had something he wanted.

She smiled at him. He thought she was stupid? She wouldn't correct him. 'Oh sweet pea, I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that! Really, didn't I say we'd be friends? It's so lovely to know you just want to help, I do so appreciate it.'

Paradoxically, his next words took him straight from an assurance that he hadn't been sent to investigate -- which, of course, meant that investigator was still on their way -- to a threat about his report. Really, now, he needed to get his story straight! Either he was reporting on her or he wasn't, and obviously he was. This pretence was just ridiculous, silly boy.

And then he mentioned his superior, and Xelia knew the way her eyes snapped to the boy had given her away. Z'Lehxa. Of course.

What a disappointing end to the game! Really, the boy -- Y'Lev, apparently -- should have known better than to name drop Z'Lehxa, it made it obvious what was happening. The mystery was over. He was here to kill her.

She'd have to run again after this, of course, which was unfortunate -- she hadn't had time to pack! -- but at least she'd be leaving this awful place. Still, she was curious how Z'Lehxa had found her. She'd been so careful to cover her tracks. But then, she knew better than anyone how well the Net remembers.

'Lovely to meet you finally, sweetling,' she said brightly, and reached beneath the pillows of her bed. Producing a disruptor, she trained it on Y'Lev with a smile. 'It's been wonderful having you here, darling, you've really livened up the place.' She stood smoothly, gently placing her empty glass on a low table. Out the corner of her eye, she caught P'Atik's aborted movement towards them. Good boy. This was her business. 'Such a shame it has to end this way. I'd say to send Z'Lehxa my regards but, well,' she laughed, 'you know how it is. Nothing personal, of course.'

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #10 – February 19, 2020, 03:02:58 PM

[ Y'Lev |  Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime] @fiendfall

It took a considerable amount of the Orion’s self control to not noticeably react to the woman’s actions, had he not received years of Syndicate training, he might’ve lost his cool. In a way, he kicked himself. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of the woman attempting to murder him; there was no reasonable excuse for her to invite such ruthlessless. It appeared that somewhere along the line, he’d misread the situation.

Apparently his feeling that something was off, was nothing short of prophetic. He’d have to consider a career as a soothsayer...

He tightened his back and slowly turned his head, his odd-coloured eyes fixating on the weapon in the Orion’s delicate green hands. His eyes flicked down to the bed she was perched upon, for the briefest of seconds, his mind working on overtime as he concocted how he’d best escape the unfortunate circumstances he found himself in.

The best advantage he could see, was that the woman was still on the bed, a soft surface which would have some minor impact on her aim. He only had a few seconds to make this choice, the few precious moments that she wasted flicking words off of her tongue and in his direction.

Escape was implausible. He wouldn’t reach the window and the door was barred by her oafish servant. Diplomacy was hardly his strongest suit, and given that the woman had so quickly shifted in her adenda told him that arguing with her would get him shot. Fighting didn’t seem a wise choice either, but it was the one that best suited him.

How unfortunate that he didn’t have any bioweapons to deploy…

“Your hospitality leaves something to be desired…” He dryly muttered, as her words tapered to a conclusion, his green hand clasping around an obscenely large bowl that lingered on the cabinet he was poised against. “I can’t promise that this won’t be affecting my review of your establishment.”

He didn’t even glance at the woman a chance to process his words before he flung the bowl in her direction, a miasma of exotic fruits showering across the room like an asteroid barrage as he threw himself down upon the floor. The sound of raining fruit and the bowl striking something solidly was the soundtrack of his movements as he rolled himself neatly in range of a centerpiece table adorned with PADD’s and other tasteless items of miscellaneous decor.

Her brutish college looked at an awkward place between hesitant and defensive, like an over abused canine, but Y’Lev couldn’t put an inordinate amount of thought into it as he positioned his body to vault over the central table of the room. He leapt without hesitation, his limbs tangling and wiping its adornments to the ground as he moved across the polished surface. He’d not so much as hit the floor before he shifted his weight enough to topple the table bringing it down with him on the other side, sheltering his body from her disruptor and affording him a few precious moments to think.

His hand found a decorated knife upon the debris he had caused, green fingers wrapping carefully around the blade as he lifted it in preparation to send the blade into the forehead of her colleague if he so much as made a step in the wrong direction.

Taunting wouldn’t be his smartest move, he knew. But he also understood that he’d lost the advantage of surprise, and that fighting the pair of them off would be somewhat detrimental to his life. Diplomacy it was…

Guardian forbid, he was turning into a wilted little Starfleeter after all…

The catalyst was the mention of Z'Lehxa. He’d made no other actions that had drawn any notable antagonism from her. Perhaps this woman was a runaway? Or worse, she’d crossed Z'Lehxa and was hiding out on Aldea… That idea seemed to fit nicely into the picture. Z'Lehxa was a particularly dangerous adversary, one who wasn’t easily avoided; the first reasonable justification he’d found for anyone hiding out on Aldea…

“In fact, this turn of events appears to be somewhat personal after all, my dear…” Y’Lev spoke slowly, silverly, uncomfortably hissing through his teeth as he shifted his body against a piece of broken ceramic and etched scratch into his stomach. “I just fear that it doesn’t actually involve me at all…” He paused, eyes glaring up at the bodyguard who remained unnervingly stoic in his presence. Y’Lev considered that the only excuse for trying to kill him following her discovery that he was one of Z’Lehxa’s agents, was that the woman was out to get Z’Lexha.

Or more likely, Z’Lexha was out to get her…

“Enlighten my curiosity, if you may, what exactly did you do to make you think Z'Lehxa would be sending assassins after you?” It was a gamble to suggest, but it fit with the evidence he’d been presented. He then pondered a second thought. If she was afraid of Z’Lehxa, and crossed her somehow, she was absolutely no friend of the Syndicate… If she was on the run, why was she making any attempt to kidnap Catians? His face drew tight in befuddlement, before he returned it to a more steely expression.

Perhaps this woman wasn’t as much of a risk as he had first thought. A proverbial olive branch, then?

“And perhaps consider that if I was a Syndicate assassin, you’d currently be laying in a pool of your own vomit with a biotoxin coursing through your veins…”

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #11 – February 29, 2020, 08:00:53 PM

[ Xelia/Adisia | Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] attn: @TWilkins

Xelia hadn't expected Y'Lev to go down easily; she'd been prepared to shoot him if he went for a knife, because fighting was only fun if you won and she couldn't be certain this Syndicate boy wouldn't best her. She'd never been much of a fighter, or one at all really, and while gambling could be brilliant entertainment, even with one's life, she just wasn't in the mood to die today. It'd ruin her whole week. Not to mention her dress.

But he didn't go for a knife. He didn't go for anything, actually, just spun around and launched something completely unexpected at her. It caught her completely off guard; it was all she could do to duck, looking over her shoulder as it hit the wall — was that her fruit bowl? What a little bastard.

She only looked away for a split second, but when she looked back Y'Lev was moving so fast she fumbled to get a shot on him; she fired, and it went so spectacularly wide it shattered her decanter, spilling blue liquid everywhere; she tried again, singeing the wall behind him; her third shot went into the body of the table as it toppled, hiding Y'Lev from view, the boy shouting a response at her all the while. Little shit!

'Frankly, darling, you're free to believe whatever you want in the time you have left,' she said offhand, 'I really couldn't care less.' She'd lost her cocktail because of him! And her fruit bowl, she'd liked that bowl. The table was neither here nor there but she was still annoyed on principle.

And P'Atik hadn't helped her at all! He was still just standing frozen and useless to the side. She had liked him staying out of it to begin with but now she had a broken fruit bowl and a damaged table and, really, did he need a written invitation?

'Don't just stand there!' she snapped at him. The oaf hesitated long enough for Xelia to realise he clearly wasn't quite stupid enough — he knew he was the kingmaker here, and if he sided with the wrong person he would either die or live to regret surviving, whereas the right person could do wonders for his stupid little career. Conniving bastard. She might have been proud if it wasn't her own life on the line.

She turned the disruptor on him. 'P'Atik, darling, don't make me shoot you too. Be a dear, there's a good boy.'

For a moment, it looked like Z'Lexha's name held more power than the weapon in Xelia's hand — and, void damn him, he was probably right; she did hate to imagine what that woman had done to poor Vaxus — but then the man began to move, finally.

Y'Lev was still talking, and perhaps he was just being smart about it, but the way he spoke did give her pause. He seemed genuinely surprised at the turn of events. Had he thought himself so subtle that she wouldn't realise what was going on until it was too late? Or had Z'Lexha failed to brief him properly?

It seemed she'd left out the why behind sending Y'Lev here; Xelia did have to laugh at that. Of course that snake wouldn't have mentioned her reasoning, wouldn't even have bothered to come up with a lie. Why lie to your subordinates when threatening them has the same effect? The absolute biggest brain on Vondem.

Bitch.

'Sweetling, if Z'Lexha doesn't consider you important enough to trust with details why would you think I would think any different?' This was getting boring, Y'Lev just hiding behind a table and occasionally saying things. She had to wrinkle her nose at his latest -- her own vomit? Ew. Why did he have to be so crude about it? Maybe it was even true, but he seemed to derive enjoyment from being a contrary little dick so maybe he'd just been toying with her. Honestly if so the boy deserved it, he looked like he hadn't had any fun in years.

And didn't she have just the most fun revelation she could share with him... It wouldn't matter, of course, he was going to die anyway, but it would be delicious to see the look on the poor boy's face if he believed her. And if he didn't, well, it wouldn't matter for more than a minute or two.

'Or perhaps it's not that you're unimportant,' she said silkily, 'perhaps it's just that Z'Lexha would kill to keep her secret from getting out. Why else would I have left the delights of Kinarvon for this stinking planet?' She stepped closer to the table, trying to get a better angle if only so she could see the boy's reaction. 'Your mistress is a traitor, Y'Lev, she's on very good terms with Starfleet, and not as a business partner — as a servant.'

Serving another Orion was unpleasant but necessary; serving an offworlder was the lowest disgrace she could imagine. Being subservient to Starfleet? It was delightfully horrifying. If Y'Lev had any sense he would be disgusted at his mistress. Xelia didn't expect that to actually change anything — you could be disgusted by your master and still serve them, of course, fear and power don't care much about your preferences or beliefs — but still. It was nice to know she'd rocked the boy's world before she ended it.

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #12 – March 05, 2020, 12:32:03 PM

[ Y'Lev |  Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime] @fiendfall

Y’Lev could only afford around half of his attention to the words of the woman shooting at him from the other side of the table, his eyes instead glued to the hesitant brute before him, watching his twitching muscles slowly come around to the idea of serving his purpose as a guard dog. He couldn’t be expected to pay full attention; it would have been relatively detrimental to his health and wellbeing… But he did pay enough attention that his mind started blurring over from the sheer volume of decrepit possibilities that were birthed into his mind’s eye.

It started with the expected insults, jibes towards his intellect and importance within the Syndicate, goading him into an improper move… She insinuated that Z’Lexha wouldn’t have considered him important, a comment that barely phased him for its inaccuracy; she’d taken him under wing and afforded him plenty of personal attention since he’d single-handedly thwarted an Andorian ambush on a shipping outpost…

But despite her virulent deluge of drivel, the woman did manage to chew out a few words that snared a particular hook upon his attention, teases of a secret that Z’Lexha harbored… It was enough of a morsel that it caught Y’Lev’s attention far more than he had been willing to permit… What could he say? No Orion could say no to gossip.

And the woman did indulge his taste; Z’Lexha was apparently a traitor to the Orion Syndicate, one firmly imbedded within the pocket of Starfleet of all organisations. For a moment, his mind was caught up in the mire of realisation that the same could perhaps be said to be true of himself… The second thought that battered him, was the one that told him that the Woman’s words made no sense… He would have choked on her musky lies, had he not been too busy mentally affirming how to disprove her drivel.

Z’Lexha was loyal as a fault to the Syndicate; the only thing that surpassed her loyalty to the organisation, was loyalty to her own wealth… Since Starfleet didn’t deal in such matters, and that a great deal of Z’Lexha’s investments were tied into lucrative gamling halls and slave markets, her defection only served to damage her own goals… No. no self respecting Orion would hinder their own gain in such a way…

He scoffed under his breath at the thought. This strange, belligerent little woman was as bad a liar as she was a hostess... Her words made so little sense he imagined that Commander Hathev would have had an aneurysm at the very concept of such an illogical statement.

Z’Lexha had been the one to provide him with the assignment that had led him into the exact situation he was currently in, the instruction to infiltrate Starfleet to find additional information with the Starship Theurgy. Why would she have instructed him to do so if she was already in bed with Starfleet? He knew all too well that Starfleet were already on a full-force witch-hunt for the Theurgy at the behest of the infested members of the High Command. How did getting one Syndicate Legatus to send her charges to investigate that a ship that all of Starfleet were searching for, provide any value?

Unless…

Unfortunately, his train of thought crumbled to an abrupt collapse as his latest adversary’s brutish colleague, P'Atik she’d called him, finally made enough of a scene to register as a threat. The man hadn't yet draw the disruptor on his hip, but his posture and position told Y’Lev enough of what the man intended to do. In Y’Lev’s moment of contemplation, the man had creeped far too close for comfort… The Orion grimaced at the thought of having to engage with such a thug...

It wasn’t common that Y’Lev involved himself in a fight without some form of advantage. Fighting fair was idiotic, after all… And in that moment, it was idiotic to attempt to engage the man. He was pinned with his back to a dining table, a disruptor trained on the space above his head, he was sure. A brutish warrior was stepping ever closer with his weapon brandished, and whilst Y’Lev had no doubts he’d be able to best the man, he had access to neither bioweaponry nor a foreseeable trick…

Or… Perhaps he did, the Orion considered, as he slowly brought his left thumb up to caress the outer edge of the concealed dancerdagger upon his finger, using his dextrous hand to maneuver the ring to the inside of his finger, ready for unfurling…

As he did so, his concentration elsewhere, he absentmindedly twisted the knife in his right hand just enough to reflect the light in the room, letting it linger across P’Atik’s face for long enough that the man perceived a warning from the unintentional gesture. Y’Lev noticed the sudden hesitation that furrowed into the brow of the lumbering fool, and took advantage of it.

Y’Lev flung the jeweled knife in his right hand with more force than accuracy, watching the knife plaintively sail clear of P’Atik’s head and thudding itself noisily into an ornamental gong-style ornament with a rather regal clang. The oaf stopped mid-step with a twist, his attention drawn to the clanging sound of the gong, his jawline shifting and exposing a deliciously soft part of his neck to Y’Lev’s odd-coloured eyes.

His body worked as a smooth machine, his left hand swiping the lock to his dancerdagger, his right hand swooping down to grasp around the bladed rod of metal in the same instant that it had unfurled and lost its decorative blade caps. Meanwhile, his leg sprung out with all of his force, the dangerously tough leather of his heel colliding solidly with P’Atik’s shin, disrupting his balance and causing him to lose his footing.

P’Atik stumbled forwards, Y’Lev using the closer angle to swing his leg up, shifting his waist to allow himself to hook the foot of his boot around the back of the bigger man’s knee. He yanked his leg back to him, dragging P’Atik’s stumbling form with him. Y’Lev’s left hand slammed his palm up into the bigger man’s chin, followed immediately by a strike of almost surgical precision, one of the bladed tips of his dancerdaggers sailing deep into the exposed part of P’Atik’s neck, before being plucked out again like the cork of a wine bottle.

P’Atik’s hand moved up to grasp at the wound, just a second too late to catch the vibrant spurt of blood that shot out from his exposed artery and out above the table that his meaty head clattered against only a moment after. The gurgling sounds erupting from P’Atik’s throat comforted Y’Lev somewhat, allowing him to dismiss the man as a threat and affording him a moment to reach down and Orion plucked the disruptor out of its holster upon P’Atik’s hip.

Disruptor in his hand, he took a second to collect his breath, putting his head back against the table and taking a long blink for clarity. Now that the immediate threat was dealt with, he could return to his previous concern…

It was inexplicable behaviour for a high ranking Syndicate Legatus to work alongside Starfleet, let alone in subservience; it could only end up with her loss, and was therefore, a redundant undertaking. No threat or promise could make a sane member of the Orion Syndicate work with Starfleet in any capacity… Except perhaps the sheer cataclysmic circumstances Y’Lev had found himself in… But Z’Lexha couldn’t have possibly known about the parasites...

And suddenly, Y’Lev began to feel a touch of nausea in his gut, and not from the sounds of P’Atik gargling up his own blood, the poor soul…

It was instead born from the realisation that his assignment to investigate the Theurgy, something he hadn’t thought much into until that very moment, was a completely illogical assignment to begin with. What profit would Z’Lexha gain from having her agents investigate a rogue Starfleet ship? It’s actions bore little-to-no interest to the Syndicate, certainly not worth the attention of a Legatus’ entire breadth of resources... Nor would the intel be worth the fee that he had been quoted for his efforts…

And neither did Starfleet gain any profit from having a defected Syndicate Legatus send her agents to investigate a ship that was already their highest priority. The agents would only serve to complicate matters if they were permitted entry to Starfleet vessels against their crew’s knowledge…

So if his mission hadn’t brought any gain for the Syndicate, and hadn’t brought any gain for Starfleet, then it was benefiting a third party… A third party interested greatly in the location of the Theurgy and willing to disregard any collateral damage in ensuring it’s destruction…

It was a rare occurrence that Y’Lev cursed. He found the words uncouth and representative of someone who wasn’t intelligent enough to conjure a creative insult. But at that moment, he couldn’t find any alternate words so aptly befitting his circumstances…

“You have evidence of Z’Lexha communicating with Starfleet I assume?” He called out, giving his best attempt at a calm response, his breath betraying him with a somewhat heavy tremble. “If so, my dear, I think you and I could become…” His sentence was interrupted by a pawing hand upon his leg and the spluttering choke erupting from P’Atik.

“... Very valuable to each other… As wonderful friends as you could wish...” He finished, kicking the wretch’s hand away, only half mocking her earlier commentary regarding how very good friends he and she could be. “We can put this little incident behind us, and I’ll even buy you a new pet. Perhaps a feline, since you seem to favour them so…” He offered, half in-jest as the gravity of the circumstance dawned upon him. He carelessly tossed the disruptor to the side of the room, no longer having need of it, seeing as he could no longer kill this woman without losing access to what could prove to be extremely valuable information.

“So, if you put down the weapon, and show me your evidence… I might just be able to arrange a place for you somewhere where Z’Lexha will be the very least of your concerns... Believe me. “ He allowed himself a breathy laugh at the thought; he’d already been in three battles, adopted a troublesome  pet bat, and been made aware of a damning conspiracy that would end all life in the galaxy, in just a few weeks. The depravities were only made worse by three weeks of having to portray himself as a wilted little Starfleeter... It truly would be a blessing to have another Orion aboard, even one as bothersome as the witch behind him...

“I’m sure it would be a perfect fit for someone who enjoys both throwing stones, and broken glass…”

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #13 – March 07, 2020, 01:42:14 PM

[ Xelia/Adisia | Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] attn: @TWilkins

Oh for pity's sake, P'Atik couldn't even die right! He was meant to take down the assassin, or at the very least get him to leave cover long enough for her to kill him. But no, instead P'Atik just stood there like a blinding moron and waited to get his throat cut, basically hand-delivering himself to the enemy. And he'd ruined her chances to get to see Y'Lev's reaction to her news. Ugh, why was she cursed to be surrounded by absolute idiots every hour of the day, why was there not a single competent person on this whole planet!

Well. At least he spent the last few moments of his life doing what he loved best: dithering uselessly.

'Thanks, P'Atik,' she snapped as he gurgled himself to death on the floor. This never would've happened on Vondem. She'd spent years collecting the very best slaves about her, creating a dream team of competence and organisation. But here… Here, P'Atik had actually been one of the better ones, which had been a horrifying discovery. All oafs, with barely a braincell to share between them.

She watched as her bodyguard's form twitched on the floor. Making a mess even in death — that bloodstain would be an absolute nightmare to get out of the rug! 'Ugh. Men.'

Y'Lev began talking again, and Xelia lazily drew her attention back to him. She'd mostly lost hope that he might say anything interesting or fun; he didn't seem to be shocked or panicking or anything exciting, which was a bit of a disappointment really. She'd expected something from him. Denial? Anger? Come on darling, work with her here.

Instead he just asked for evidence. 'Of course,' she scoffed absently. 'You think I'd run halfway across the quadrant on nothing?' Well, he'd made it clear already he thought she was stupid; this was just a continuation of that, she supposed. As was the sentiment behind his next words: he was offering her friendship now! Oh sweet pea!

'Darling, you're very kind, and I'm sure you make a lovely friend even when you're not looking down the barrel of a disruptor, but really, you think you have anything to offer me? You, Z'Lexha's hound? Let's keep things realistic, shall we?'

He made a valiant effort, the poor dear, offering her 'a place for her' where Z'Lexha would be 'the very least of her concerns'. Either an empty promise or possibly a death threat, she couldn't quite tell. In any case the boy was desperate and she was unconvinced.

Then again… She was hardly a master tactician — she'd tried to read S'Zu's Art of War but found it unbelievably dry, and although Vaxus had been fond of quoting the Rules of Acquisition at her she'd never bothered remembering them — but throwing down your weapon seemed like a bit of a strange choice. Y'Lev had finally placed himself on equal footing with her — armed, no longer out numbered — but the first thing he did was throw that away, literally?

Either a stupid move, or a calculated one, and she had seen enough to know he wasn't the usual imbecile she was used to on Aldea. He wanted her to trust him. But why? He had to know she wasn't a practised shot, he could easily pop out and surprise her, kill her now, return to Z'Lexha the man of the hour. But he wasn't. In fact he'd given up his best chance to finish this.

It made no sense at all. Unless he no longer wanted to kill her, which made even less sense.

Then again… He wanted to see her evidence. And he hadn't seemed all that surprised when she'd dropped her bombshell. In fact... He'd said he hadn't spoken to Z'Lexha in a while. And his excuse for why he'd arrived here so quickly hadn't quite held water.

Oh good, this had gotten interesting after all. And far be it for her to stop when she was having fun.

'Well!' she said brightly, tucking her disruptor away into the holster on her thigh. 'Come on then, out you come. I'll show you mine if you show me yours.' If the worst came to the worst they'd just be back in the same position as before.

She perched on the end of her bed, still careful in case she needed to shoot vaguely in Y'Lev's direction again. She didn't particularly like the idea of going first, giving without first receiving, but Y'Lev had made the first gesture of trust, she supposed, which did kind of make it her turn. Ugh. Still, she wouldn't give him everything up front, just enough to whet his appetite.

'I'm not Adisia,' she said, and oh how lovely it felt to finally say that. 'And I have footage of Z'Lehxa conspiring with an Admiral Sankolov of Starfleet.' She preened slightly. There, little boy? That good enough for you? Now are you properly impressed?

She very much doubted whatever Y'Lev would offer her would be nearly as delicious as her gift to him. But, still: 'Your turn, darling. Make it good.'

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #14 – March 13, 2020, 02:09:11 PM

[ Y'Lev |  Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime] @fiendfall

“Careful…” Y’Lev warned, with a most polite tone to his mouth, allowing himself to draw to a stand at the sound of her disruptor clacking against its holster; the immediate danger seemed to have passed, and given that he’d apparently piqued her curiosity, he doubted that she’d do anything to disrupt her own gain... “Don’t tar us all with the same brush, dear...” He was, of course, criticizing her slurring of ‘men’ in general. His time spent training with the Syndicate had been riddled with disregard and demonishment because of his gender; in an institution so heavily dominated by the female sex, it was very easy for other training agents to think themselves shining desciples hiding behind the matriarchy…

And he beat them all, in the end.

“But I must say, considering your choice to bring this with you…” He delivered in a soft chuckle, straightening his form neatly and giving P’Atik a soft tap with the toe of his boot. “I am almost concerned with your lack of competence…” He let the words hang in the air for just a second. “But only almost…” He stepped out from behind the table, slowly, his face a picture of inquisitive neutrality . “If you’ve truly got the evidence you say you have, it seems you’re far luckier than you’re aware…”

He’d heard the name of Sankolov his fair share of times before his new companion had dropped it; keen Theurgy crew trying to buddy up with their new arrivals and spoon feed them the gossip; humans were incredibly predictable creatures… But his name was mentioned a lot, by the Bellerophon crew as well. And it was not a name mentioned in a positive light… It seemed that not-Adisia, whoever Adisia was, had eavesdropped on a conversation between two of the infested; an impressive accomplishment indeed, one that all the more solidified the idea of existence of parasites within his own head…

After all, it was far easier to believe his patron to be infested by an interdimensional parasite, than it was to believe her as a Starfleet defector… That, combined with the video, the testimony from Commander Hathev, the way the crew of the Theurgy behaved like heroic saviors as opposed to a decrepit cult, the way the entire ship believed in something so wholeheartedly… Admittedly, even his scornful opinion was tempered somewhat by a display of such credence. He couldn’t even consider doubting the theory any longer…

“Amusingly, if you hadn’t met me...” He spoke with a small smile, clearing his mind of worries of belief, pleased that his gambit had paid off. He softly approached her seated position and moved into a fluid kneel, his eyes affixed on hers the entire time. Y’Lev moved slowly, as to not give her an excuse to draw her weapon once again, and gently took her hand, bringing up to his mouth with a soft kiss across her knuckles. “You’d never have known how dangerous this information is...” He innocently promised her, with a feathery tone to his voice and wide eyes boring into the woman’s face.

“Honestly...” He relinquished his soft grip and allowed himself to sink onto the bed next to her, sighing in relaxation and lowering his torso down to lay on his back, his legs bent and feet just above the floor. He chuckled breathily to himself as the soft materials graced his back with their delightfully soft fibres. He missed non-replicated materials… “...If you thought Z’Lexha was dangerous when you stole this from her, perhaps you ought to sip at some wine before we go further…”

He allowed his tongue to flick lightly across his lips at the thought. There were not many things that Orions couldn’t find pleasure in. Danger could be stunningly pleasurable, like fireworks of adrenaline firing across every bundle of nerves… Revealing how much danger someone else was in? Exquisite...

“Now, where to begin…” He teased with a soft smirk across his lips, tilting his head and exposing his neck to her with a slow blink and a deep breath. “Well to start, I wasn’t lying to you about not having any contact with Z’Lexha lately, I’ve not spoken to her in weeks.” It was a rare truth to leave his lips, lies were so much kinder to the palate. “I’ve spent the last few weeks aboard a rogue Federation Starship, using a deep cover alias. My assignment was to gain as much information about their actions and movements as possible, and report the intel back to Z’Lexha for analysis.”

“Of course, why would Z’Lexha be so interested in a rogue Federation vessel, one with no tactical advantage to the Syndicate whatsoever? Why would she defect to Starfleet and then use a significant amount of her resources to find a ship that all of Starfleet were looking for?” The rhetorical questions were perhaps a bit theatrical, but, given it being his first time able to reveal the information he’d learned aloud, he was almost… Exited?

By the rains… What was wrong with him?

“The answer is, she didn’t.” He shrugged, which was somewhat disjointed, given his laying down posture.

“The reason that the ship has been labelled as a Starfleet defector, is because they managed to stumble upon a rather compromising transmission between several members of Starfleet Command, including your darling, Admiral Sankalov…” He paused, wondering how best to phrase a reveal that was quite so… Staggering? Egregious? He wagered that the reaction greatly depended on the individual… “It seems that an extra dimensional race, one that the crew of the Theurgy refer to as ‘parasites’, have invaded our reality, with the base intention of destroying it.”

“According to the Starfleeters, the parasites cannot exist here naturally, so they possess hosts like second skins, subvert their free will and assume control of them. Admiral Sankalov is one such infested, along with other members of Starfleet High Command, the Klingon Empire, the Romulans, and the Syndicate, one of which being, I would assume, our lovely Z’Lexha…” He paused, narrowing his eyes at her face, trying to better judge her reactions.

It had been a long time since he’d had to be so open and honest with anyone else; it had rarely been relevant to do so within the confines of his everyday life. In fact, it wasn’t all so common he even spoke as Y’Lev… It was more often a disguise or alias, a character he invented and then killed off without thinking…

It had given him a certain control, an everlasting ability to remain one-step-ahead of everyone else. He held all of the cards and he kept them to himself. Now, hiding within Starfleet, and all of their openness and acceptance drivel, finding himself needing the aid of a stranger to stop himself from becoming trapped in a pit of absolute misery… It was a new kind of vulnerability… A new necessity for honesty that he hardly appreciated…

“This is all the evidence that I have on me…” He quietly informed her, reaching into the inside of his leather trousers and producing a small data-crystal that contained a copy of the recording that he’d been shown by Commander Hathev earlier that day. “Alone, it’s not perfect, but I’d suggest that you take with it all of the data concerning the matter… Z’Lexha, Starfleet’s behaviour in general, my being here…” He offered the crystal to her with a wide gesture, before flopping back down onto the softness of the sheets with a heavy sigh.

“And if you don’t believe any of that, I’ll show you the chafing that the Starfleet Uniform has wrought, and you can take my assurance that I’d not subject myself to such indignity unless I had absolutely no other choice…”

It was a comment made in mild jest, the snorting scoff that he followed it with all but enhancing the notion. But his melancholy mind knew the sad truth…

That he really did have no other option…

At least, not without the assistance of his new colleague...

Re: Day 03 [1907 hrs.] No Honour Among Thieves

Reply #15 – March 28, 2020, 09:14:49 PM

[ Xelia | Divine Delights Bathhouse/Brothel | Red Light District | Ibai Besi Promenade | Aldea Prime ] attn: @TWilkins

She couldn't help rolling her eyes at his complaint. He wanted to 'not all men' her to her face, while he made a show of how stupid he thought she was? Syndicate agents in general thought sickeningly highly of themselves, and Syndicate men seemed to spend 90% of their time trying to overcompensate. Y'Lev, it seemed, was no different. Bless him. He didn't even realise how much self-awareness he lacked, poor dear.

No, of course she hadn't brought P'Atik with her you dolt. Nor had she stumbled on this information like some idiot. She'd worked hard to achieve her success, built a media empire and a data-gathering goldmine so effective she'd found something far bigger than even her ambitions could've predicted. And here this little Syndicate worm was suggesting she was just some common moron far below even his lowly competency level.

Oh, sweetheart. He had no idea.

She arched an eyebrow at his ridiculous allegations. She wasn't aware how lucky she was? Or how dangerous this information was? Sweet pea, she wouldn't be hiding out in the ballsack of the quadrant if she didn't absolutely have to. She was quite aware how dangerous this whole thing was, thank you. As were her poor slaves she'd left behind.

Still, she'd listen to what he had to say. No point turning down good data, after all.

Even if he did insist on touching her. No, don't sit next to her! Ugh. She resisted the urge to move away. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of even the slightest sign of discomfort, even as he leant back, sunning himself like a lizard. He was probably getting dust all over her sheets.

Wait, what? He'd been on board a Federation ship?

She couldn't help the surprise showing on her face, quickly followed by a narrowing of eyes as her mind darted to make connections. Z'Lexha wasn't just speaking to the Federation, she wasn't just adjusting her own affairs to their benefit, she was directly involving herself in their business. Was it a double-bluff? Was she toying with them? Did they know she'd assigned Y'Lev? Or was that on their behalf? He'd said it was a rogue starship -- although how rogue any Starfleet officer ever went was debatable. It probably just meant they hadn't quite filled out their paperwork properly, or they'd said a rude thing to someone one time, or -- horror of horrors -- maybe they stuck their big stupid noses in some other planet's business.

Bless them. They were adorably stupid.

As was Y'Lev. He thought he was 'a significant amount of Z'Lexha's resources' did he? Wasn't he just adorable!

Still. Annoying as it was to admit, he did have a point. On its own this might have just seemed like random reconnaisance -- a bit of a weird decision but not particularly suspicious. But combined with what Xelia knew...

It seemed Y'Lev was onto something.

Unfortunately, this was the moment he decided to turn into a raving lunatic.

Extra-dimensional parasites? Who were going around possessing people? What, did he believe in demons now?

She couldn't help it. She laughed.

'Darling, you certainly have a flair for the dramatic.' Poor thing, was he really so desperate he'd make up a wild story like that? Did he really think her so incomprehensibly stupid that she might believe it? Even for a second?

'Come on now,' she said condescendingly. 'This is a little far-fetched, don't you think? Of all the lies you could've tried to feed me, you went for invisible aliens? I thought you Syndicate types prided yourselves on not being complete idiots.'

Still, it was a little disconcerting how quietly he'd delivered his little fairytale. He seemed serious -- he seemed to believe what he was saying. And obviously that was totally untrue, obviously he was lying and just trying to make it seem real, but if he could lie that well then why not go for something even remotely believable? Had he really expected her to just fall for this?

Oh, he had evidence did he? At least he didn't genuinely expect her to believe all of this on absolutely nothing but his word -- and nothing but his word that his word was remotely trustworthy. Well, this ought to be good.

She took the data crystal from him like it was a dead insect, finding her tablet from amongst the cushions and plugging the crystal into its port. This way she wouldn't have to turn her back to him to access her computer, and if it was a virus it wouldn't take down her entire system.

It was a video. How quaint.

Oh.

Oh.

She found herself transfixed as it unfolded. The woman in the video... She behaved with chilling similarity to the Z'Lexha in Xelia's own recording. The way she spoke, so detached and strange, the casual sensuality -- no pleasure in it, no enjoyment, just... void.

Z'Lexha had touched her like that, too. Not her, obviously. Not really. Her hologram. Fake her. But she'd still felt queasy watching it.

And this was horribly, horribly similar. Y'Lev had been right. She should've had a drink first. She felt ill.

The video finished. Xelia put the tablet down slowly, carefully. Without comment. She felt light-headed. Was she pale? She was probably pale. And all her alcohol was currently painting her wall, courtesy of a stray shot from her own disruptor. Fuck.

'So,' she said, pulling herself together enough that she didn't sound too strangled. 'Parasites, then.'

Ancient mythology had spoken of the darkness that threatened their planet, of the pleasureless demons of the void that could only be driven back by festivals of light and life, fuelling the strength of their primordial protector.

All nonsense, of course. But it was hard not to see the void in that recording.

She suppressed a shiver. 'Z'Lexha is one of them.' She was being hunted by a demon. Suddenly Y'Lev's offer of a place Z'Lexha couldn't find her was much more tempting. 'I don't suppose your starship has space for another?'

--FIN