Miranda, Part 10

Posted on Thu Mar 28, 2019 @ 10:38am by Commander Caleb Ryan

2,005 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Doors of Perception
Location: Theta Tau Nebula/Planet Miranda
Timeline: MD09 1000

Ash walked out of the small farmstead and stretched with contentment, enjoying the warm sun and breeze on his naked body. God, this was the life! He observed the position of the sun as he sipped his coffee, then checked the mechanical chronometer inside the house. It was time for the regular morning beam out and report.

Ash headed back to the bedroom where three Moia Ilmater’s lounged in a naked, entangled heap together in the bed. Even Ash had a hard time telling which of the three women was the real Moia unless he was actually in skin contact with them -- which he often was now.

“I have to head up the hill and make the report,” Ash told the ladies as he started to pull on his clothes. “It’s late. I think the cow really wants milking. She’s lowing pretty loud.” He gave them each a lingering kiss and then walked out, heading up the hill to the rendezvous point. The Nemesis would scan the area at the appointed time and beam up any humanoid life signs. Ash usually was the one to make the report to give Rilasa and Jera as much time studying Moia as possible. Mostly his role in this part of the mission was over; now he was there only to provide incentive for the Cardassian to cooperate. After all, living alone left one lonely and horny.

“Ash Danrisa, gigolo,” he muttered.

“What was that, sir?” Ensign Alenis Nalel asked. She was an attractive Bajoran-Cardassian half-breed that had been locked up in the same Bajoran black site in which they had found Myru Jera. Since then she’d been through the Academy and joined the crew.

Ash flashed the pretty, waifish ensign a smile. “Nothing, Ensign. Just considering I should get paid more for these exhausting, marathon missions.”

Alenis grinned. “I think this is the first time you’ve ever complained about that aspect of your job, sir,” she teased.

***

Back on the planet, the three Moia’s had gotten dressed as well. “Jera, could you milk the cow and feed the chickens?” Moia asked. “Rilasa, I’d like you to help me check the fishing weir.”

“Sure,” the two other Moia’s said. Rilasa grabbed up a woven reed basket while Moia pulled down a fishing spear. Some of the fish in the lake were large enough that they were easier to wrangle by spearing them and hauling them out, and if there were several, Rilasa had the strength to carry them.

They walked off down to the lake and took the path worn in the grass to wear the weir lay. “How long are you all planning on staying?” Moia asked. “Not that I want you to go. I’ve loved having the three of you in my bed,” she said salaciously.

Rilasa imagined that the lonely isolation ate away at the Cardassian woman. She had been fairly isolated for long stretches after her revivification and conversion. But then she’d been sent on missions. Moia didn’t have that outlet.

“I think Jera and I have what we need,” Ril said, picking her way over a stony beach. “I imagine only a day or two more. I think Ash is just lingering because he’s enjoying having three of you,” she said wryly.

“Hm,” was all Moia said, falling silent as she contemplated the idea of isolation again.

“I see movement,” Rilasa noted as they approached the weir. A couple of the large fish were trapped in the wicker enclosure. Rilasa moved next to a large tree overhanging the weir and reached out a hand. “Give me the spear and I will fish them out.”

With no warning, Moia thrust the spear into Rilasa’s back, driving her forward and pinning her to a tree. She gasped in pain and shock, green Romulan blood gushing from the wound, until the computer in her brain shut down her pain receptors. She tried to push away from the tree, off of the spear.

Moia came around and jabbed knives into Rilasa’s hands, making sure she couldn’t free herself easily. “It will hurt less if you don’t struggle,” the Cardassian said coldly as she pulled out another knife.

Rilasa could sense her nanites working to stop the bleeding, but they couldn’t heal the wounds as long as the spear was there.

“What...the fuck...do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking an opportunity,” Moia said calmly, grabbing a fistful of Rilasa-Moia’s hair. “This would be easier if you dropped the disguise. Less painful, too, if I can see what I’m doing.”

“Fucking bitch.” But Rilasa shut down the holographic disguise, revealing her true red-headed Romulan form. That would conserve power for her nanites to use to heal her once she got free. Or to kick this Cardassian’s ass.

“Good girl,” Moia said. “There is a reason they don’t allow any tech down here,” she said, lifting Rilasa’s red hair. She pressed the knife to the base of Rilasa’s skull and the Romulan hissed as she started to cut away the flesh. “I’m pretty good at cobbling together what I need. After all, I made just about everything down here.”

Rilasa knew she would likely be screaming in agony if her pain receptors weren’t deactivated as Moia cut back Rilasa’s scalp, folding it up. Beneath she found a metal circle with blinking lights. “Ah, yes. Just what I expected.” She started digging with the knife to pry up the access plate. “So imagine my surprise when they just dump a woman full of advanced Romulan and Borg technology into my lap? Oh, do I surprise you?” Moia asked, popping the disk out. “Yes, I recognized your enhancements. I worked for the Obsidian Order for years. Everyone who has encountered the Borg has tried reverse engineering their technology. You don’t think we didn’t keep an eye on what the other powers were working on? You forget, your father was my contemporary in the Tal’Shiar before we both went into weapons.”

Carefully Moia worked at the device. Rilasa struggled with her superior strength until Moia depressed a control node. Ril felt her strength ebb. “The fuck did you do?”

“Just deactivated your physical enhancements. I can’t have you squirming. This is delicate work.”

Rilasa was starting to panic again. The disk was the primary control node and rechargable power source for the Borg nanotech that flowed in her blood. Without it, she doubted she would be able to heal from this. She was going to die.

“This will be my ticket off this miserable planet,” Moia said with a low growl. “I can’t make a weapon with it, but I should be able to rig up a long-distance subspace signal and get someone to pull me off this fucking paradise. And then just wait. I will have my revenge on Danrisa, and Pierce, and Black. And yes, your father and Dys, too. Too bad Torm is already dead. I would have enjoyed eliminating him, too. Hah!” Moia exclaimed in triumph as the control disk came free. She held it up to the sun and wiped off the green Romulan blood as Rilasa sagged on the spear pinning her to the tree.

“Ash…” Rilasa murmured.

Moia looked at her, shaking her head. “You actually love that Lothario?” she asked, rinsing the disk with lake water. “Trust me. In our line of work, that will only make him a liability and get you killed.” She paused. “Well, maybe you won’t have to worry about that now.”

Leaving Rilasa slumping against the tree, Moia turned to head back to the farmstead, pulling up short when she saw herself standing there.

“Hrast!” Moia cursed as Jera-Moia swung the shovel to impact with the side of her head.

***

Ash returned to the farmhouse to find Moia unconscious, tied to a chair, half her face a bruised mess, one eye ridge clearly broken, and likely suffering a concussion. Rilasa was laid out on her stomach on the table, a massive wound in her back and stomach, her head half scalped, green blood everywhere. Jera, in her Bajoran body, was working with bandages and towels to staunch the bleeding.

“What the hell happened?” Ash exclaimed, rushing over to Rilasa. “Ril! Oh, baby…” he said, his voice holding a note of panic.

“I think the nanites are getting the bleeding stopped,” Jera said. “But I’m not so sure they’ll be able to heal her. Ilmater was after this.” Jera held out the control disk.

“Shit,” Ash muttered, taking the disk and turning it over in his hands. “What is it?”

“Power source and control and production node, from what I could gather before Rilasa passed out. It was a blessing. Her pain receptors were starting to come back online to conserve nanite power. Can you reattach it? Put it back?” She lifted Rilasa’s bloody scalp to show where it went.

“I don’t know. That’s a mess in there, with all that blood,” Ash said. “Ril has always been very careful with her tech. She doesn’t let us look at it, give us schematics. She fixes herself.”

“I doubt she’s been this hurt before.”

“Not in a long time,” Ash admitted.

“Could Samhita help?”

“Samhita and Ril don’t exactly...get along.”

“Ah, right. That incident on Starbase 80.”

“Incident is putting it lightly. Ril replaced her on the crew and kept her locked in a closet for information,” he said, studying the connector nodes on the disk and in Rilasa’s skull. “But Sami really is the best person. No one knows more about biocybernetics and Borg tech than she does. We really need to get her back to Nemesis.”

“Can she make it until next beam out?” Jera asked skeptically.

“I have no idea. And we have no way to contact the ship.”

Jera pursed her lips. “I overheard Moia mention she thought she could jury rig a subspace beacon with the disk to get someone to get her off this planet.”

Ash considered. “It could be possible. I’m not an engineer, though. If I crack this open, I could break it irreparably. That would kill her.”

“And if we don’t get her to Samhita, she might die there on that table.”

Ash’s face hardened. “Get me a toolkit and keep her alive,” he said, moving to the counter. He bent over and carefully pried open the casing of the disk, staring at the intricate innards.

“Oh, shit,” Ash murmured. “Academy engineering, don’t fail me now.”

***

An hour later Ash slumped down in a chair drinking straight from a bottle of whiskey he’d found in the stores, staring at the blinking control disk.

“Is it working?” Jera asked, replacing the towels stuffed into Rilasa’s wounds. “Bleeding has stopped.”

“Good.” Ash sighed. “I think it’s working. It should be broadcasting an S.O.S. requesting immediate extraction. No way to know if they’re receiving it.”

“So we wai--” Jera’s words were lost in the buzz of the transporter effect.

“--ait,” Jera finished, looking around the transporter room.

“By the Prophets!” Alenis exclaimed, seeing the bloody Rilasa lying on the floor, bruised and battered Moia, Jera covered in green blood.

Ash jumped up from where he’d landed on his rump on the floor. “Call an emergency medical team and security!” he ordered the ensign, and Alenis was already on the comm as Ash worked to secure Moia again. “And call for Ensign Shapandar!”

He knelt down next to Rilasa, brushing her red hair back from her pointed ears. “You’re going to be okay, baby,” he murmured. “I won’t lose you again…”

FIN

Ltcdr. Ash Danrisa
Intelligence officer

Rilasa Graeca
Intelligence asset

Myru Jera
Intelligence asset

Moia Ilmater
Intelligence asset

Ens. Alenis Nalel
Operations officer

 

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