Miranda, Part 7
Posted on Fri Mar 1, 2019 @ 11:44am by Commander Caleb Ryan
1,448 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
Doors of Perception
Location: Theta Tau Nebula/Planet Miranda
Timeline: MD02 0600
Rilasa was awakened at an ungodly hour by the cry of some demon bird greeting the sunrise. The red-haired Romulan cyborg grumped, sleepiness slowly being pushed away by the nanites in her bloodstream. She sat up, picking straw out of her red hair, glancing over at Jera as the Bajoran woman stretched out naked and yawned awake. With little space inside the house for three guests, Rilasa and Jera had been put up with blankets to sleep in the straw in the hayloft over the barn and the scent of farm animals pricked her nose. Of course, Ash had a place in the house, in Moia’s bed.
“Sleep well?” Jera asked as she reached for her Starfleet duffel. They had each only brought a few changes of clothes, though neither one of them had the waste biological processes of a normal member of their species to have to worry about smelling. Rilasa’s nanites took care of waste processing, and Jera wasn’t actually Bajoran, but a genetically damaged changeling.
“Well enough,” Rilasa said, reactivating her holo-imaging to hide her true, partially mechanical self. “I do not usually need sleep. I regenerated fully before we left. I should be good for at least a week, if not two if I do not exert myself.”
“Must be nice,” Jera said. “At least I don’t have to sleep in a bucket anymore.” There was still a touch of longing in her voice for the loss of her ability to change out of humanoid form.
The two women dressed and climbed down, still picking straw from their hair. The cattle lowed quietly, eager to be milked. As they approached the pre-fab farmhouse, they heard the sounds of lovemaking.
“Again?” Jera asked with a chuckle.
“They never really stopped,” Rilasa muttered, cursing her inability to sleep and listening to it all night, though that wasn’t quite true. They had fallen asleep around midnight. This was just a bit of morning exercise.
“Perhaps we should take a walk,” Jera said.
Rilasa shrugged, and so they took a turn around the lake that gave them an hour to inspect the area. The homestead was well placed. The lake held plenty of fish, which Rilasa knew Cardassians were fond of, and waterfowl. They found a few snares on their walk, so they dispatched the birds and took them down before restringing the snares. There was plenty of water for the small plot of cultivated land Moia maintained for a simple, healthy grain crop, as well as an herb and vegetable garden. They even came across a small orchard with fruit trees as well as berry bushes.
When they returned to the farmstead, Ash was outside at the well, washing up. His shirt was off, giving Rilasa a wonderful view of his lean, muscled body, his hair wet and water trailing down his tanned skin. She felt her heart skip and just stopped and stared at her lover.
“Amazing,” Jera whispered appreciatively.
“Ril! Jera!” Ash called when he spotted them. He grinned like a Cheshire cat, obviously pleased with last night’s activities. He toweled off and pulled on a shirt.
“Where is Ilmater?” Rilasa asked.
“Milking the cows,” Ash said, nodding toward the barn. “I was about to start breakfast while she did her morning chores. Do you want to feed the chickens and hogs?”
Rilasa stared. “I don’t know what those are.”
“Terran animals,” Ash explained. “We brought them here for her since they fit the climate more than traditional Cardassian livestock. Terran crops and livestock are just very adaptive.”
“I see. I don’t know anything about farming.”
“Neither do I,” Ash admitted. “Chicken feed is there in that bucket, and for the pigs, it’s mainly those scraps and slop.” He pointed to another bucket. He explained to them what to do before heading inside.
By the time morning chores were finished, Ash had the small pre-fab smelling amazing. Sausage and bacon sizzled in a pan with fresh eggs scrambled with peppers and onions. Freshly churned butter sat on the table next to a steaming loaf of fresh bread and a pot of honey and a pitcher of cold fruit juice. Ash had even braved pancakes.
“This is entirely too much, Ash,” Rilasa commented as she set the table. “You do know that I don’t need to eat much, and Jera doesn’t eat at all.”
“Indulge me,” Ash said. “I haven’t had a girlfriend to cook breakfast for in a long while.”
“What about Eve?” Ril asked.
“Or that doctor, River, on Deep Space Five?”
“And that cute ensign on the Svikari?”
“Okay, fine. Shut up,” Ash said waspishly. “I get it. But we’re the only people Moia ever sees. We might as well make it special.”
The door opened and Moia entered. She came up behind Ash and wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing his neck. “Oh, it was plenty special last night,” she said, giving Rilasa a side eye.
Rilasa glared and turned away to finish setting the table.
“Behave, all of you,” Ash said, bringing the food to the table. “Jera, grab the pot of coffee please.”
Moia sighed. “Coffee…” She smiled. “I had nearly run out of that.” She pulled out one of the fresh bottles of kanar they had brought with them and put it on the table as well. “Good vintage,” she noted as she poured them each a small glass. “A toast to friends in lonely places.”
Once they had eaten their fill and were relaxing back with coffee and thick slices of bread with fresh butter and honey, Moia looked at Ash. “So I don’t suppose you want to tell me why more than just you came down with my supplies this trip?” she asked pointedly.
Ash sipped his coffee and nodded. “Miranda,” he said simply.
Moia stared at him. “Miranda. I thought that was just a...fantasy you cooked up.”
“It may be, but we’re going to try,” Ash said.
“And you expect me to help you?”
“It was part of your deal, Moia.”
“A deal made a decade and more ago,” she pointed out. “I gave you everything needed to dismantle my organization.”
“We’re not here to dismantle,” Ash said. “We’re here to build.”
She stared at him. “You’re going to try and get into the arms business.”
Ash grinned.
“You are insane. My people think I am dead.”
“Or in retirement,” Ash pointed out. “We didn’t give any proof of your demise.”
Moia scowled. “They would have been picked up by the other cartels.”
Ash shrugged. “You had the corner on Cardassian and Dominion tech. No one else could get their hands on those weapons like you could.”
“I don’t have those connections anymore,” Moia pointed out.
“We’ll worry about that,” Jera told her.
“The plan is to stage your comeback. The weapons field in that sector is in chaos. Dys was arrested, but he got out. He’s still scrambling to reacquire his standing. Torm was murdered by one of his harem girls.”
“Torm didn’t have a harem.”
“Torm junior. His son. He took over when his father retired. Real bastard. Kept a harem of slave girls to abuse.”
Moia snorted. “Junior always was a spoiled ass. I would have put a disruptor through his head if I could have.”
“So the weapons field is completely open for someone to swoop in and grab a large slice. We mean to do more than that. We want to take it over completely.”
“And you want me to do that?” Moia couldn’t keep the hopefulness out of her voice.
Ash worried his lower lip nervously.
“No,” Rilasa said after it was clear Ash was too concerned with preserving the Cardassian’s hope. “Jera and I will be impersonating you. That is why we are here. To get to know you, your mannerisms, your intimate details.”
Moia deflated and glared across the table at them. “So I am to stay here.” She reached for the kanar.
“I’m sorry, Moia,” Ash said sympathetically. “You are still a valuable piece of intelligence. We didn’t want to risk--”
“Me escaping? Turning the tables on you?” Moia gave a bitter laugh.
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Ash said dryly, showing he hadn’t become too attached to remember how dangerous this woman was. Wasn’t that the story of all his relationships?
FIN
Rilasa Graeca
Intelligence Asset
Romulan cyborg
USS Nemesis
Myru Jera
Intelligence Asset
Changeling
USS Nemesis
Ltcdr. Ash Danrisa
Intelligence Officer
USS Nemesis
Moia Ilmater
Intelligence Asset
Cardassian weapons dealer
RSS Feed