[USS Charon, Deck Three]
When Shiarrael reached Sakarra's quarters she didn't bother pressing the chime, she instead keyed her command authorization and manual override- Starfleet regulations be damned. She was too angry to care. Once the door slid open she stepped inside, behind her she could hear Marcus coming down the corridor at a brisk pace trying to catch up to her "Commander Tyrax" Shiarrael demanded. Her eyes scanned the quarters- her silk robe glistened in the dimness reflecting the brief orange flickers of candlelight that permeated the incense laden quarters. She breathed heavily- a controlled pant, as she waited for the Commander to heed her summons.
Nestled against her companion's tall frame like Le-Matya cubs under the stars of a desert night, Sakarra had sunk into deep contemplation. Unable and unwilling to sleep, she watched the lone candle placed before the firepot while listening to Brent's slow, rhythmic breathing.
Noise outside her door prompted a marginally raised brow and near imperceptibly, relaxed muscles prepared to tense. When the doors hissed open by their own volition, the young Vulcan became so utterly still, it promptly alerted the sleeping Marine.
Ah, hardly unexpected. Still, this was a rather rude way to make an entrance.
She placed a light kiss on Brent's brow and swiftly slid out of the bed, taking the silk covers with her – for a mercy, the bed was not visible from the other room although the sight was certainly something to be appreciated. Deep blue eyes regarded Sakarra as she wrapped the ivory colored silk around her slender, supple frame and she simply nodded. There was no reason to hide his presence – they had been as discreet as one possibly could, but whoever entered these quarters unannounced had to be prepared to find them together, even the CO.
Like a desert spirit roused from the deep sands, the young Vulcan strode through the doors – disapproval of this rudeness and silent compassion warring in her jet black eyes for a second as she noted the highly unsettled woman staring at her. Her temper settled and she tipped her head in greeting, one hand holding on lightly to the smooth fabric covering her from chest to just above the ankles.
"Yes, Captain."
"Temep-Shar" the name was uttered venomously- Shiarrael's normal cold fury was now replaced by a whirlwind of rage and she failed to notice the Commander's appearance. Bloodlust radiated from her like heat from a sun- every muscle in her body was tense. Even the weakest telepath might have been overwhelmed by such a feeling of malevolence. It was a primitive and unsated emotion- the corners of her mouth twitched involuntarily as she gnashed her teeth vehemently "what do you know? Tell me everything!"
Sakarra regarded the furious woman with unyielding calm, although a quiet ember was glowing in the depth of dark eyes. Without a word, she walked towards the desk, regal in her movements while her black curls floated behind her like a mantle.
Gentle hands pushed aside a robe and a Marine's uniform jacket and a heartbeat later, a holographic screen sprang to life over the polished surface, Vulcan letters spinning gracefully in mid-air. A murmured command made the garnet symbols dissipate, replacing them with the slowly rotating outline of a ship.
"This is Seleya." The young woman looked up, fingertips resting lightly against the edges of the desk. "Designed and commanded by T'Meni of Vulcan. Temep-Shar was built upon this very design – in secret. For what reasons, I do not know. I do know that T'Meni herself protested the launch, and was overruled by T'Pelar and her followers – she wields considerable influence, not only within the Science Council. It is also logical to assume V'Shar lent support to this endeavor, or at least tolerated it. Again, their reasons are their own and unknown to me."
The young woman glanced at the familiar, graceful lines and exhaled slowly before changing the display to a map of the Stellar Nursery.
"They failed to return, Captain. But the last data transmitted indicates the wormhole collapsed in this area of space. If the ship is still intact, or salvageable, T'Pelar will wish to retrieve it. If it is not …" she paused, grief and anger resurfacing and pushed aside.
"It is of no consequence. The Tal'Shiar knows. Our sensors have been manipulated to detect the unique signature of Temep Shar as well as neutrino residue, which gives Charon an advantage. What T'Pelar failed to see is that the Star Empire need not search any more – they need only follow us. And it would be logical to assume they already are."
How ironic indeed that because they were not prepared to trust a Rihanha with their secret, they might have dropped it into the Empire's waiting hands. Foolish. Ruthless. Illogical.
Sakarra willed away the seething fury wanting to resurface and glanced back at her CO, eyes as hard as gemstones "Charon's sensors would have shown you a Seleya-class ship, stranded far from home, nothing more. The manipulations were thorough. None of us would ever have known we had not simply found it … by accident."
Shiarrael's fists clenched and when it seemed that she might be torn asunder by the fury boiling within her she abruptly calmed. Her violet eyes radiated amber in the candle light and she turned towards one of the windows and slowly approached it pressing her palms against the frame as she leaned forward. The star field had come to a standstill- but they were near their destination, near the lie- all this time she had been toyed with. 'A toy'- she smiled, it tasted bitter. How many people knew? How many people were laughing at her right now? Plenty she suspected. She could see Sakarra and Marcus' reflection in the window; their features softened by the candle light, their shadow dipped eyes looking at her. "arham u-feanna." She slid a finger across the window frame, held it up to look at- spotless. 'Vulcans', she chuckled for the briefest moment.
When she was a child Shiarrael could remember her grandfather scolding her- whenever she did something wrong his large hands would scoop her up by the waist and carry her off to the sitting room. Instead of spanking her however he always sat her down in his favorite chair and gave her the look- it was hard to describe, 'the look,' but Shiarrael had always known that it meant he knew, a great deal, that he could see through her like a glass wall. He was everything she had aspired to be- 'would he have seen this ruse?' She sighed and turned around looking at her two crewmembers thoughtfully "has she finally lost her mind?" she grinned at Marcus and Sakarra' expressions "perhaps. Though, there are those in the empire who believe sanity is something I have always lacked." Shiarrael looked down and casually slid her hands across the silk robe pressing a few of the wrinkles away- it almost was an involuntary action, something she did when considering a conundrum.
"So this mission has been a lie." Shiarrael finally looked up. Perhaps she, best of all, understood the peril the Charon was now in. It had unwillingly been forced into the heart of a great tempest- one that could destroy them. "The Vulcans have put us in great danger. Even if we find the Temep-Shar it will be difficult keeping it out of the Tal'Shiar's hands. No doubt we are being followed, watched closely-" 'Itsak?' Shiarrael wondered for a short moment before refocusing her thoughts "as a Starfleet officer I cannot allow this technology to fall into Romulan hands." Those words were sharper then razors as they sliced their way out of her mouth. 'So now I will truly be a traitor?' If it were any other she could have enjoyed the irony. "We must destroy it." She stated simply. "There will be no salvage operation." She looked at Marcus "have T'Pelar brought to my ready room." If they found the Temep-Shar and destroyed it Shiarrael expected her people to either try to destroy or capture the Charon. The latter was the least desirable situation. She would be executed as traitor- the crew would be imprisoned indefinitely. In either scenario her people would simply declare the Charon as having been 'lost.'
Marcus nodded. "Aye sir." he paused for a moment. "I agree with your assessment sir, but surely we can't destroy her if the crew still live." he said
He knew that if they did, Charon would not survive to see Federation space again. "As soon as we find her, the Romulans will attack. We face either destruction or death as prisoners of war. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that." he said, hoping to find a non violent solution.
[To be continued ...]
Captain Shiarrael t'Rehu
Commanding Officer
Commander Dylan Marcus
Chief Security Officer
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
Lieutenant Commander Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm
USS Charon
