Creeping and Coursing

Posted on Mon May 15th, 2023 @ 5:00am by Lieutenant Commander Lyra Cassiel & Endia
Edited on on Sun May 21st, 2023 @ 10:01pm

Mission: S1 Episode 5: Ex Post Facto
Location: Banea
Timeline: Date 2371-08-15 at 1445
3528 words - 7.1 OF Standard Post Measure

ON

The door closed in a rush behind him. He was breathing hard, excited and terrified all at the same time. The opportunity that had fallen into their lap couldn’t be ignored. His shaking fingers tapped the terminal, and he waited a moment for the face to appear. When it did, he smiled excitedly at the face so unlike the one he wore now but so familiar to him all the same; the scowl that met him didn’t dampen his excitement.

“What is it?” The man on the monitor demanded.

“I’m glad I caught you, Azan. We need to change the plan.” The Banean reached up and scratched around his black feathers. “The Terran - the female - is here right now meeting with Jalak. Do you realize what this could mean? What we could do?” He could barely contain himself.

“We could end this conflict entirely. Carry out the plan, but use the Terran woman. You know what they did to the Ocampa. The Baneans will take the fall, and then we can return the woman to them unharmed and they will be indebted to us!”

Azan sat back and laced his fingers together, his hands in front of his face. “This isn’t something we should do as a snap decision Revrell. We need to consider the-”

“We don’t have time!” Revrell insisted. “These Terrans have come to make a deal and they chose the Baneans over us. If we don’t act now, the consequences could be catastrophic for our people. They are surely leaving soon. Right now there are only two of them and the female is here, if we were even to chance a delay, it would likely be with their ship overhead and less chance of success. We must seize this chance, Azan. For the good of our people and to win this war!”

Silence met his plea for a few long moments and he was beginning to get nervous and uncomfortable that it had fallen of deaf ears, but finally Azan looked up and spoke once more. “Very well, do it, but if you feel like it would fail, stick with the original plan. We must be careful to not anger the Terrans ourselves.”

“I understand.” Revrell ended the communication and hastily exited the room to inform the others of the change.

—---

It hadn’t been difficult for Lyra to charm her way into a meeting with Jalak. The receptionist was a young man who had responded readily to batting eyelashes and the female body accentuated just right even through her uniform; she knew how to move herself to draw attention. Once he had gotten over stammering and had called Jalak himself, the Targa - which she was mentally equating to a General - had agreed to the meeting. She had been quite sure he would of course. He’d been staring at the meeting and she was absolutely sure it hadn’t been entirely chaste.

She knew there had been more to it though, and she quite intended to figure out what exactly it was by playing the open palm to Andrei’s closed fist.

All while holding the proverbial knife behind her back of course. She knew she needed to be careful and she would be.

The receptionist had taken her to Jalak’s office which she entered without hesitation. Her eye was immediately drawn to the window that extended the entire back wall and the Banean man that was standing next to it looking through the rain outside and the residual dying light of the hidden sun as it set.

“Targa Jalak. A pleasure to meet you one on one, finally.” Lyra greeted pleasantly.

Jalak turned a few seconds after her voice sounded, his yellow eyes moving from the rain to the image of his very lovely guest. He had indeed been staring earlier. Whatever his flaws, Jalak had always known what he wanted when he saw it. And he had wanted her in that meeting.

He was tall, and tan, and handsome, considering the more unusual form of his race. A strong man like him never skimped on exercise, ate well, and took care of himself. Of course there was more to consider than the possibility of sampling a Terran woman like her. These people were dangerous and came with many promises.

He slowly walked around his desk, keeping his eyes on her until he made his way to the sitting area.

“I have to agree, Lieutenant.” He said, his eyes slipping from her face to her figure, admiring the shape of her ass as he lowered himself into a chair and gestured to one very close by. “Have a seat. We need to connect for a moment on your offer.”

Lyra knew that look all too well. It was a look she had received often in both of her bodies - well deserved. She kept her expression pleasant, but internally she was smirking and considering what Andrei might do with those yellow eyes were he here to see for himself the absolute eye fucking she had just received from the filthy pheasant before her. He may have not shown the same visceral possessiveness and jealousy that she was more apt to show, but she knew he was just as possessive of her as she was of him.

She walked toward the sitting area with that long, feminine stride of a noblewoman, her hips swaying elegantly and her head high. She stopped in front of one of the chairs and took a seat with grace and elegance.

“Yes, I thought you might like to talk about that.”

He watched her sit, looking at her appraisingly.

“Are all Terran women as beautiful as you, or do you stand alone?” He asked with a lifted brow. She may not have feathers, but with legs like those, who needed them?

A soft chuckle left her lips and for just an instant she demurred as if she were actually flattered.

Disgusting creature.

When she brought her dark eyes back up, they were shining with feigned interest and she gave him a once over as if she were actually considering the possibility, revolting as it was. “Terrans do prize beauty, especially in their women. Though I am not entirely sure what that has to do with our deal?”

“It has everything to do with our deal.” He said, leaning forward. “We aren’t machines after all. We’re flesh and blood, and we have many things we want. This game of talk and…you might say negotiation, is just part of it.”

Internally, Lyra sighed. She should have just gone to the woman, though it would have been her luck that the woman was a lesbian. “I believe Commander Petrov was quite clear on his terms.”

“Yes, very.” He said with a raised brow. “He doesn’t have much of a skill in negotiation, does he? But I’m no diplomat myself. To be honest, I like your proposal and very much want to see us on the winning side of this conflict.”

Lyra brought her shoulders up in a feminine shrug and used one hand behind her head to reach over her opposite shoulder and pull her long hair back over it slowly, exposing her long thin neck. “The offer and ‘negotiation’ was a simple courtesy and token of friendship. We could simply take what we want, but we are choosing to be benevolent. If our hand is not slapped away.”

“I understood that part of the sell.” He said, his yellow eyes locking in hers. “But you two are fire, and our leaders are cowards. They fear your commander, but they have doubts about the destructive force you promised us.”

“If they have doubts with the evidence shown to them between the Ocampa and the demonstration I gave earlier, then I’m afraid there is no convincing short of showing them… and unfortunately if we are showing them, it will be seen with their dying breaths. It is your people who must prove their worth to us, not the other way around.” Lyra’s dark gaze was steady and piercing, cold as ever and boring straight into the man’s soul as if she would rend him bare.

As she looked at him, she decided to test a slightly different tactic. Some men of power, for whatever reason, secretly enjoyed being dominated by a woman behind closed doors. He read like he could be one of those men. She sat back in her seat then, lifting her head and gazing down at him through her eyelashes. She was the picture of imperial beauty and would not have been amiss with a crown resting on her head with the presence she gave off. It was not one - for obvious reasons - that she utilized much anymore.

“Perhaps you should seek to put your affairs in order?” She held his gaze, but saw it waver slightly. A slight smirk tugged on the corners of her lips.

He looked slightly uneasy under the challenging gaze she had put on.

“What do you mean, exactly?” He asked, his finger moving to his chin.

“Well, perhaps Commander Petrov wasn’t quite clear enough. Your choices are either submit or die. If you think your people don’t grasp that well… I’d put my affairs in order. Say goodbye to the people I love and take enjoyment out of my last few days alive.” She tilted her head to the side just slightly, her dark hair framing her beautiful face.

“Do you understand now?”

“I do.” He said, understanding she was no more merciful than the Commander had been. He saw no real interest in those eyes, and he wasn’t as stupid as he looked. “I’ll speak to the Chief Minister and see if I can make sure that is…known by him.”

He pressed a nearby button on the table that would call an aide.

“That would be a good idea.” Lyra agreed and then sighed. “It really doesn’t have to be like all of that, though. We can be friends - actual friends I’m sure. We have a lot to offer to those we would call friend.”

“Such as?” He asked, much more guarded now than before.

Lyra offered a disarming smile which she could see worked and threw the man a bit. Slightly less guarded now, but still cautious. A pretty smile from a pretty girl was a powerful thing. What she hadn’t seen at all here was any sort of replicator technology, and that would be an easy enough gift to give.

If they were ever in a giving mood.

“My people have technology that can make matter out of pure energy. Tell me, Targa, do you enjoy a good roll steak? I thought the one I was given earlier was delicious.”

“Of course I do.” He said with a slight smile. There was a subtle doubt to go with his mild confusion and interest. “You’re going to give us choice steaks?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Or your favorite desserts, whole meals, trinkets, clothes - as I said, we have technology that would allow you to make nearly anything that your mind can imagine. It really is quite remarkable.” Lyra was relaxed as she sat there, but she did turn her head as the door opened and the aide stepped in.

“Targa?” The aide prompted.

“Get me a meeting with the Chief Minister immediately. Let him know it is imperative I be next in his agenda.” He said confidently, his voice commanding. “And have someone bring us something to drink.”

Lyra gave the Banean a look of admiration and approval for the authority in which he used against his subordinate. There would really be little he could do to discern her true feelings, intelligent or not. Once the aide left, she smiled slightly. “Gifts for pretty women.”


“I know all about that.” He said, looking once again at her legs. “What is this technology called? How did you come by it?”

“It is called a replicator and it is technology that we Terrans invented.” Lyra supplied casually and sat back in her chair, uncrossing her legs and sitting with them slightly open. It would have been more effective with a skirt, sure, but it still had its natural allure. “You do seem like the type who knows all about gifts for pretty women.”

The Targa was a hot blooded man, but he noticed a contradiction when he saw one. He looked at her, wondering if those convincing looks she gave were genuine and if she had any real desire for him besides trying to achieve her political aims.

“Where is your ship, Lieutenant?” He asked, setting a cautious course, though his eyes still drifted to her legs. “Where is the ISS Vengeance?”

Lyra watched the Banean with the same simulated but seeming genuine interest. The door opened and the aide brought in a small tray with a pitcher and two glasses. Lyra glanced over and found it to be a different aide that had been ordered out in the first place. She watched carefully as the Banean put the tray down and began to pour the two drinks, but addressed the Targa’s question.

“Not far.” She knew he was fishing, but she wasn’t here to give information, only to take. She smiled pleasantly then and leaned toward the man. “Now, perhaps you could share some insight into your peoples’ defensive capabilities. When the Vengeance arrives and deals with the Numiri, we will of course look to help bolster what you have as an ally of the Terran Empire.”

Would they really? Doubtful, but he didn’t need to know that. Any information could prove useful. The Baneans and Numiri were not significantly inferior in technology compared to the Terrans which was part of the reason she had Andrei had been sent here without the Vengeance - collect information and open doors for a potential “alliance” with one of the two species if it seemed beneficial. She watched the consideration play out on Jalak’s face while his eyes continued to betray him and seek any glance he could between her legs as if somehow her pants would split in the middle and reveal all to him. She accepted her drink from the attendant with an automatic thank you passing her lips, but paid him no mind otherwise.

“We have… several defense systems in place on our continents to deal with any incursions either inside or outside of the planet’s atmosph- AH!” He startled as the attendant stumbled and spilled the glass full of liquid all over him and stood up in reflex.

It was the sound that came next that had Lyra up on her feet in an instant - that metallic scraping she knew so well; a beautiful note that always excited her. She knew what came next; the wet squelch, the muffled grunt. She watched with momentary fascination as Jalak held the aide’s shoulder and the hand that currently held the blade thrust up into his abdomen. He coughed, blood went everywhere. Lyra bit her lower lip, but the sound of the door opening brought her out of the moment and she came back to her own senses. She disengaged from the situation and pulled her phaser as she turned to face the two armed Baneans and her eyes immediately went to their rifles.

They didn’t look like any Banean weapon she had seen up to this point.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on but I want no part of it.” Lyra hissed, pulling her knife with her free hand.

“Take her.”

The command came from a third Banean who stepped up behind the two that were armed, and Lyra could see more behind him who were likely armed. As the first two lifted their weapons, she took the first shot. One of them disintegrated in a howl of pain and she moved to try and find cover behind the couch. As she did so, she used the hand holding the knife to tap her commbadge.

“Cassiel to Pet-” She didn’t get it out as the aide she had foolishly forgotten tackled her down to the floor and ripped away the commbadge, throwing it away to the side of the room. The aide paid for it with their life as she shot up into his body point blank. The smell of the searing flesh and the scream of agony didn’t bother her in the slightest, but this situation was bad and she had allowed herself to be put in it against her better judgment. She had no time to dwell on that though and brought herself back up to her knees just in time to fire at the second of the original two armed guards that had stepped inside. She missed, he returned fire, but she ducked back down into cover.

“What are you waiting for?!” The unarmed Banean barked at the one that had fired on her, taking his attention long enough that Lyra was able to take another shot and he too disintegrated in a howl of pain. At least Terran weapons made it satisfying. She brought herself up to peer over her cover and grit her teeth when she saw four more Baneans entering, all armed. They wanted her alive, but would they hold to that if she killed enough of them?

She was certainly going to find out.

The adrenaline had certainly taken hold; her heart was racing, her breathing had quickened. She was aware of so many things all at once. She was up on her knees and fired again. Another shriek, and this time they seemed to finally get the idea they couldn’t just walk in on her and take her away. They stopped their advance and sought cover of their own; she peered out and saw where one was hiding and with care she shifted along the couch and then leaned out. This one she caught in the side and watched him disintegrate. Her eyes caught the glint of her commbadge and for just a moment she considered it, but it was too far away in the open to feasibly get to it. There was no other way out that she saw other than the door they had come through and she cursed under her breath again. She looked back toward the door, but a hiss from behind and to the side pulled her attention.

Hidden door. Of course there was a godsdammed hidden door.

Three Baneans walked out of it, armed, and pointed their rifles at her. She fired, one shredded from existence. There was nowhere to go. Over the couch would put her in the line of fire from the ones who had come from the front, and here she was staring down two more. She grit her teeth and glared at the aliens with defiance in her eyes. She took another shot, but she would not see if it impacted or not as she felt her body jolt and seize as she was hit - from where she didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. As her consciousness slipped away, she saw them advancing on her and with the last fleeting moment, she resolved to kill them all.


—

When her eyes opened again, she found herself in Jalak’s office on the couch. In her hand was a blade covered in blood that was a slightly more pinkish hue than the red of Terran blood. She frowned. What had happened? Why was she holding… holding this knife? Everything was foggy; she tried to mentally push past it and stood, an action which her body immediately protested. Why did she hurt? Why was everything so muddled? She turned her head, the room spun and she placed one hand on her face as if it might help steady her. The door opened. The last time she heard that sound it wasn’t… the thought just wouldn’t connect.

“My god, it's true.” A female voice cut in. Lyra vaguely recognized it. “Take her into custody, now!”

Lyra knew she needed to move, but her body would not obey. She felt hands on her, pulling, jerking. Her rage boiled and then fizzled. Her hands were restrained behind her, and her dark eyes came to rest on Commissioner Kiva Dol. The woman looked furious and was speaking, but Lyra couldn’t focus enough to make out the words in sequence. Murder, trial, jail, punishment, betrayal - they thought she had done this. She started to struggle, but it was ineffectual and she was forced down to the floor, a knee on her back to press her into submission. She was in no shape to fight, so she relented quickly as much as it pained her. Trying to fight when she couldn’t make sense of the world would only get her killed.

What the hells had happened?


OFF