Star Trek: Theurgy

Epi 2 S [D02| 1900] The Ravaged Prisoners of War

January 24, 2025, 07:37:31 AM

[Ensign Sash Kreshkova | Primary Care unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2] @Dumedion @Ellen Fitz

Two figures disappeared from the Erudite and materialized in the sickbay aboard the Theurgy. 

One was a young woman - who looked little more than a girl.  Her green hair was matted against her head in places.  Her skin was lacerated in at least four places - her right forearm, her left cheek, across her torso, and her left calf.  Those were the larger gashes.  But several smaller wounds showed here and there across her body, almost like someone had cut her open and used what was left of her as a dart board - only instead of darts, they were throwing scalpels.  The gashes and cuts - which had been clean at the time of their infliction were no longer so.  Some were older than others.  Many were dark red and, if someone had cared to reach out, would be hot to the touch.   The rudimentary medical facility on the Erudite had tried to clean and close the gashes and other incisions, but something that the Scion had used seemed to prevent them from easily being healed.

The other was a half-transformed figure who appeared stuck somewhere between a human and a wolf.  The figure had the head of a wolf, and a good part of the body was covered in fur, but the rest of him or her - it was hard to tell - was skin just like a humans.

Both figures were mercifully unconscious - whether because of the extent of their injuries or because they had been sedated was not readily apparent.  But the younger of the two could be heard murmuring addled expressions.  

In her mind Sashenka was fumbling through a hedge maze.  She was hemmed by large bushes on every side.  Around every corner lurked a potentially deadly situation.  One time, she raced around a corner to find a Tal-Shiar operative who pointed a disruptor at her.  She turned tail quickly and ducked, but the disruptor cut across her abdomen.  The operative took off after her.  So she tried to make several quick turns to evade the operative, but she could hear him searching for her.  He even called her by name.  “Sasch… You know you can’t get away.  There are only so many places to hide.” 

The green-haired woman kept running.  Left, right, right, straight for a little while, then left again.  The longer she ran, the slower she got.  Just being upright seemed to sap her energy.   While she didn't hear the voice of the Romulan, she heard some rustling in the hedges which seemed to cut through some of the fatigue and urge her on.  When she turned the next corner, she saw a different sight - her friend Tria … the one she had taken her trip to Vulcan with. 

"Tria!" Sash cried out, rushing to her friend and giving her a hug.

"Sash?  Where'd you go?" the green-haired woman's friend gently moved her to arm's length as she studied the Russian's face.

"I ... I vas kidnapped, Tria."

“I’ve been looking for you," the Trill said as if she hadn't even heard what Sash said.  "ya know, your dad is going to kill me if I don’t make sure you get back on time.”

"I vas kidnapped," the pilot repeated.  "I vas taken by zhe Tal-Shiar."

"Yes," a voice behind both girls said.  "She was taken by me."

Sasch spun sideways, to turn and face the voice, but as she did, a disruptor blast narrowly missed her.  Instead, it hit Tria squarely on her sternum, and her friend disintegrated before her eyes.  It only took a split second before Sash was on the move again, but during that split second, another disruptor blast grazed her thigh.

Sash cried out and stumbled.  It took a lot of her strength to push herself up and get moving again, but when she looked back, she couldn’t see the Romulan.  She took a moment and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and then removed them thinking maybe she would see something different.  But it was just her again - her and the hedges.

But a loud rumbling sound began.  It seemed to be far off, but steadily growing nearer.  Sash couldn’t tell if it was a large animal, or a machine, or something else.  However, with the absence of any immediate danger, she sat down and leaned back against one of the hedges.  As she did, something grabbed her from behind and fastened her wrists together behind her back.  The green-haired pilot squirmed away from the hedge, afraid of what would happen next.  Was something going to emerge and restrain her further?

But as she looked on, the hedge was just a hedge.  The rumbling, however, continued to grow louder.  Sasch pushed herself to her feet.  Between her injuries and her hands being tied together, she was less than steady on her feet.  She tried to worm her hands out of the restraints as she moved away from the direction of the quickly crescendoing noise.   As she scrambled along, she stumbled into the hedge, and a sharp branch cut her across her cheek, leaving a long, deep gash.  A cry escaped her lips, but her heart - more than anything else - urged her on - and promised her an eventual respite.

The green-haired woman continued to weave her way through the corridors of hedges.  Every decision was random.  Left, then left, then right, and left.  Each bend looked like the last and the next.  There was no telling them apart, but the rumbling was growing louder, she wasn't sure how long it would be before it overtook her, and that fear pushed her forward.  This time, however, when she rounded another corner, she came face-to-face with the Scion.  He loomed over her with a wicked, mirthful grin. 

"Hello again." The tone of his voice stopped her in her tracks - as though with that one instrument, his voice, he was able to paralyze her.   The mirthful laugh he unleashed was more of a threat than anything else.

Unable to move, Sash's eyes flashed with defiance.  "Leave me be!" she ordered. 

"Why should I do that?" the Scion asked.

"Because somezhing is coming to get you.  Can't you hear it?"  Sasch said, narrowing her eyes to slits.  The pilot had no idea what the sound was and if it meant his destruction, her annihilation, or both, and she was determined to take advantage of any tool at her disposal.

"Do you think you frighten me?" As he asked the question, the menacing smile fell from his face and was replaced with a grimace of unmitigated hatred. In his left hand, he held out a strange instrument.  He depressed a small nodule on the side of the tool and a jet of light flew out of it and cut the young woman’s arm.  

Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of crying out as the firey incision tore at her arm, she managed to keep her response to a barely audible whimper.

"The sound is coming closer." She threatened.  "Can't you hear it?"  She glared back into his eyes insolently.  "And It's not coming for me," she said with more confidence than she felt.

But the creature loomed above her, paying her comment no heed.“I haven’t yet decided.” The Scion’s grin widened into an evil smile that split his face in two. 

“Haven’t decided what?” Sash's voice threatened a growl.

“If I should make your death quick or draw the elegant agony out and allow you to suffer for a great while.”

With her wrists restrained beneath her, all the Russian could do was jut her chin out.  “Who says it's you who gets to choose?  Maybe I von’t let you take me?”

He held up his tool again and, this time, pressed a different button, and from the hedges all around, Sash shot out little pieces of metal which cut into her skin and then, once they had embedded themselves, simply melted away.  The soon-to-be pilot fell to one knee and cried out as each stylus seared into her skin.  It took nearly a full minute for her to catch her breath after the last barrage.  This time, she had no energy left to rail against the villain.  Her will was nearly gone.  The noise had grown to deafening levels and was almost on top of them.  Maybe it would consume them all.  Maybe, her pain would be gone. 

“Little one,” another voice just behind her made her jump back to her feet.  Sash swung around just in time to see Ehfva and to hear her say, “Run!”

Ehfva growled and rammed herself into the Scion, momentarily sending him sprawling, but by this time, the rumbling was overhead.  Sasch saw the Scion burst into flames.  She closed her eyes, awaiting the awful end, but instead, she and Ehfva were appeared on two beds in a bright ward of a Starfleet ship.

Sash’s eyes flew open, and her loud scream rent sickbay’s bustling interior.

Re: Epi 2 S [D02| 1900] The Ravaged Prisoners of War

Reply #1 – February 03, 2025, 10:49:47 AM

Many years ago...

[Ehfva Feynri | Personal Abode | Okashii Atama | Vulpinian Space ] @Dree  @Dumedion

Ehfva's ears lowered, tail tucking between her legs, as her grandmother's tongue continued to swipe over the top of her head. It was a mixed gesture, one of admonishment and encouragement. Sitting across the fire pit was her grandfather, his deep amber eyes watching his mate as she tended to the youngest member of their household.

"Why did you hesitate?" His voice rumbled with his advanced years when he finally spoke, breaking the thick silence that hung over the room like a heavy canopy.

"I couldn't see," Ehfva replied, "at least, not clearly. And when I finally could, it was too late." She dropped her gaze to the earthen floor, ashamed. It was her fault their clan had less to eat this day.

Her grandmother's snout tucked under hers, forcing Ehfva's head up, her gaze connecting. "When you are in doubt, you should be still, and wait; when doubt no longer exists for you, then go forward with courage. You did well, Ehfva. So long as mists envelop you, be still; be still until the sunlight pours through and dispels the mists."

Ehfva glanced over to her grandfather and again lowered her ears when she felt his gaze penetrate into the deeper truth of why she'd failed on the hunt.

"You were not committed to the hunt." He spoke the truth without harshness, waiting for Ehfva to nod confirmation. "Ehfva," he allowed a pensive silence after her acknowledgment, "whatever you do in life, do the very best you can with both your heart and mind, and if you do it that way, the Power of the Universe will come to your assistance if your heart and mind are in Unity." Ehfva nodded, already feeling comforted and ready to try again another day. "When one hunts, one must be responsible because all of creation is related. And the hurt of one is the hurt of all. And the honor of one is the honor of all. And whatever we do effects everything in the universe. If you do it that way- that is, if you truly join your heart and mind as ane- whatever you ask for, that the way it's Going to be."

Ehfva gave her grandmother's snout a quick lick before padding around the firepit and repeating the gesture with her grandfather.

"I vow never to divide my heart and mind again. I want to live in unity."

Present day...

[ Primary Care unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2]

The human scream ripped Ehfva from her medicated slumber. Alertness jolted through her ravaged veins, sending the partially transformed Vulpinian's arms out as if seeking to grab hold of whatever was threatening her. When she grasped air and nothing else, Ehfva's eyes opened, blinked shut against the brightness of the lights overhead, then opened again. Without having to look around, Ehfva could tell they were no longer on the Erudite. The smells and sounds were different.

She quickly recognized the source of the scream, Sash, and without bothering to note if there were any others in the room, Ehfva immediately began the the healing chant she'd taught Sash when they'd been prisoners, hoping the sounds would calm the woman down.

Re: Epi 2 S [D02| 1900] The Ravaged Prisoners of War

Reply #2 – February 16, 2025, 08:02:58 PM

[LT Arven Leux | PCU, Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | The Ranger] Attn: @Dree @Ellen Fitz
[Show/Hide]

For all his faults – which Arven was dutifully aware of, (thank you very much) – he had always strived to never allow arrogance or apathy to be counted among them. Sure, he could appear that way, especially to engineers that refused to listen to common sense, or…just idiotic patients in general, but that was all just a coping mechanism. To do his duty, to enable the necessary compartmentalization to preserve his own sanity, he had to maintain that distance; it was a hard lesson learned a long time ago – otherwise, every loss, every failure…it would all add up and cripple him with doubt, or worse. What good would he do then?
 
Some called him an asshole for that…detachment. Some questioned his “bedside manner”. Arven questioned it too, in the rare moments of self-reflection he was afforded, but those moments came and went, and in the end, he always managed to shrug and soldier on; because his way of working worked – so far, at least. So when the Erudite survivors were beamed aboard and flooded Sickbay with a fresh host of casualties, Arven didn’t panic; he didn’t gripe, or grumble – he didn’t feel a torrent of horror or pity or allow their trauma to affect his ability to do what he needed to do.

Work the patient, not the circumstance.

Even if the why’s and whyfore’s could be easily deducted, (given the nature of the mission, where most of them had been, and with whom); Arven refused to speculate on the horror’s some of them had obviously been through. He refused to allow himself to feel anger at the grossly unethical maltreatment suffered; the abuse, the physical traumas, but most of all – and this was particularly difficult to countenance – the terrible mental wounds inflicted which would likely take years to heal.

If they ever heal at all, the Doctor grumbled darkly after sedating yet another patient. “Get this one to the ward,” he nodded to a nurse over his shoulder. “Hourly checks only, just make sure his levels stay stable until we can fit him in for surgery to take those monitors out.” Arven moved on as he spoke, already scanning the next bed; a Bolian, twitching with nervous tremors, his eyes blank and staring at nothing.

“What’s your –“ Leux began to ask, when a high pitched shrill pierced the groans and soft, whimpering cries around him. He half turned over his shoulder to the outburst and witnessed a young-looking woman - human by appearance, with emerald hair – being comforted by another patient, which just happened to have the body of a female but the head of a grey wolf.

“I got him, go,” Dr. Pax appeared out of nowhere, in a blur of copper locks and oddly pungent perfume.

Arven snorted quietly to clear his olfactory senses, then approached the odd looking couple with what he hoped was a reassuring appearance. “My name is Arven, this is the Theurgy,” he explained over the wolf-lady’s quiet chanting. “I’m here to help you. Is it all right if I run a scan,” he asked, even as he was already passing a tricorder over both. “I need you to return to bed please,” he added to the chanter quietly. “What are your names? Does any place hurt more than anywhere else?”

Re: Epi 2 S [D02| 1900] The Ravaged Prisoners of War

Reply #3 – February 24, 2025, 05:10:55 AM

[Ensign Sash Kreshkova | Primary Care unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2] @Dumedion @Ellen Fitz

As the scream ripped through her lungs, Sasch’s arms started flailing around looking for something of which to take hold.  Her eyes were working, but didn’t seem to be connected to what her arms were doing, but once they felt human arms, the scream died on her lips, and her eyes were able to focus on the face in front of her.  The head of a wolf on the body of a woman didn’t seem to upset her in the least.  In some ways, it was eerily comforting. The rhythmic chanting also felt familiar.

But her ease was suddenly interrupted as another person came into view.  He was a very tall, Asian-looking Trill.  If Sasch saw the Starfleet uniform, it didn’t register with her, and she tried to use her feet to scoot herself away from him, but her momentary strength had evaporated all but leaving her limp.

“My name is Arven, this is the Theurgy,” he explained over the wolf-lady’s quiet chanting. “I’m here to help you. Is it all right if I run a scan,” he asked, even as he was already passing a tricorder over both. “I need you to return to bed please,” he added to the chanter quietly. “What are your names? Does any place hurt more than anywhere else?”

He asked about their names….Everything in her head felt disjointed.  She knew her name.  She did…what was it?  Before she could gather her thoughts and figure things out, “Sasch,” fell from her lips.  She hadn’t expected the words, but as they escaped her mouth, memories came flooding back.  “Kreshkova.”  As she said her name, she realized that the man in front of her was in a Starfleet uniform.  She felt less apprehensive - though not yet relaxed - at that awareness. “Ensign Sashenka Kreshkova.  I vas assigned to TacConn.”

The more she talked, the more her situation struck her.  “My parents…You need to let my parents know I am alive.  Admiral Kreshkova….please!”  She managed to barely push herself up onto her elbows only for a second before she collapsed back onto the biobed nearly gasping for breath.  There were too many things going through her mind.  She … Ehfva … they had made it.  They had been rescued.  But her parents had to be in turmoil of the worst kind.  She had been kidnapped, rescued, and overtaken by their nefarious captures.  Her parents had no way of knowing she was alive.

But as her mental faculties had returned to her, she became very aware of how much she hurt, and she groaned loudly, closing her eyes against the pain.  “I hurt … all over,” she barely managed.  “I do not know exactly vhat zhey did to me.”   As she spoke, she realized that she had seen Ehfva, and her eyes swept around until they found the Vulpinian.  “Vhat zhey did to us.  Ve vere two of zhe last vones left.”

Sasch took note that Ehfva was still caught between forms, but the pilot could see the care that the Vulpinian had for her.  She knew that without her companion, she never would have made it through their ordeal.