If You Want Something Done (Part One)

Posted on Tue Nov 10, 2015 @ 3:59pm by Civilian Aleczandra Naqiis-Ryan & Civilian 'Key Holder' Yolanthe Ibalin

1,970 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Pangaea (Wrap up)
Location: Promenade
Timeline: MD 6/1800

If there was one thing the sudden evacuation and the appearance of a sun (A sun! In all her many years she would never have imagined seeing something happen like that. Even miserable jaded old cynics could see something new.) made Hex realize, it was this. Life is short. And if you want something done, do it yourself.

So here she was, pushing through the early evening crowd, following her target as he headed towards the Box of Delights for his shift.

She was used to seeing the Trill with shaggy blonde hair in the objectifying costumes that the dabo boys and girls wore and it seemed that his personal choices were little better, just less likely to split if he bent over fast.

He disappeared into The Box and she stopped across the Promenade, frowning. She didn't want to follow him in there just yet. She never liked to reveal herself too soon. It was part of the ritual, part of the fun.

Aleczandra sat in one of the Promenade food courts, leaning back in a chair and just people watching. She had a delicious little concoction that had become one of the little quirks she had developed since gaining her mother’s symbiote. It had taken a bit of explanation and convincing of the Bajoran cook, but she now had a box of barbecue chicken and hasperat noodles, the sweet tang of the barbecue – a taste her mother acquired from her Texan father, of course – with the spiciness of the hasperat went surprisingly well together. Digging into the box with a pair of chopsticks, the rainbow haired teen’s blue eyes scanned the milling crowds.

Going back to her noodles, Aleczandra looked up again. Something had caught her attention, but she wasn’t sure what. Something was…off. Her gaze settled on someone near the Box of Delights and Aleczandra felt her world start to fuzz out.

Oh no! Not again!

Aleczandra blinked and shook her head to clear it. She stared down at the box of noodles and chicken in her hand and pulled a face.

“Disgusting,” she said, getting up and tossing the box into the nearest trash reclamator. She stared at the woman that had caught her attention and then slipped into the crowd on the Promenade.

I really need to dye this hair back to something less conspicuous, Zandra thought. She pulled the hood of her tunic up over her rainbow hair. Satisfied she wouldn’t stand out as much, she touched her wrists where the short knives Eve had given her two years ago when she left the USS Nemesis sat in their wrist sheathes. She wore them more as a connection to her friend than any real need for protection – at least that’s what she told herself. A part of her, since gaining her mother’s symbiote, just felt better if she had a weapon on her.

Juheni…

Shut up, bitch.

Zandra slipped lithely through the crowd, growing closer to the strange woman. She would observe for now, find out what she was up to.

The woman was Trill. Every now and again she'd turn her blonde head and Zandra could see the spots running down her face. The blonde hair was kept in a thick plait that hung over one shoulder and down her front. She dressed more like Klingon, in actual animal skin. The short, dark leather jacket looked slightly off-fitting, and then Zndra realized there was a weapon underneath. The Trill woman looked like she was just casually watching the evening crowd, but that was just a cover for noticing things. Like the cameras, the movements of security patrolling the Promenade, the enormous Gorn checking out the ladies as they passed under his watchful eye and into the Box of Delights.

Hmmm…not the only one carrying, I see, Aleczandra thought. Carrying weapons was illegal, but Zandra knew internal sensors were in disarray since the shakedown of the station, and they only picked up energy weapons, anyway. Blades were difficult to detect short of a personal stop and scan, which – thankfully! – the Federation, of course, rarely did, bless their naïve little hearts. It was why she preferred a blade.

Zandra recognized the watchfulness. This could be interesting. Just as aware of the security cameras – or even more, since she had taken a peek at her father’s data pads – Aleczandra moved through the crowd, keeping her face hidden by tugging her hood up more or slipping into blind spots. She took up a position on the periphery of the Trill’s vision. She purposefully made a less than proficient attempt to observe the woman unnoticed, making it obvious she was watching.

Let’s see what the hunter does when it is the prey.

Aleczandra unconsciously flexed her fingers. It had been too long since she felt the warm, sticky wetness of blood on them.

Hex moved off, circling away from the main entrance and down to the deeper throngs of the Bajoran Gardens and the bottom of the Prom.

Aleczandra slipped into the crowd to follow, sliding her way expertly after the Trill woman. This was an interesting distraction from the dull life of a teenage girl!

Hex slid through the evening crowd, stopping here and there to look at the carts and in the windows of the boutique stores. She was ambling along with the rest of the visitors to the Promenade, unhurried and relaxed, never out of Zandra's sight for more than a moment.

Then the Bajoran temple bell rang and the congregation turned out, thronging the gardens with a thick crowd that swallowed Hex up. When Aleczandra had got through it, she was gone.

Damn! She’s good, Aleczandra thought, looking around as she finally made it through the throng of filthy Bajorans. He looked to see where the Trill woman might have gone, alert in case she had doubled back.

"Looking for someone?" s feminine voice purred in her ear at the same time a hand closed around one wrist and something hard jabbed her in the spine.

Aleczandra froze, evaluating. “Always looking for a good time, luv,” she said. The teenager moved quickly, using the grip on her wrist to pull the woman off-balance even as she turned, driving the Trill back into a support pillar, pinning the weapon between them. Any shot from the phaser would injure both of them. Suicidal, perhaps, but the light in the rainbow-haired girl’s eyes showed how much that excited her. “If you want to dance, my card is wide open, sugar.”

Hex rammed a knee into the girl’s groin, heaving back on the rainbow hair, enough to swivel the weapon in her hand to dig into Zandra's belly and pulled the trigger. It was very low level blast, it left her conscious, but her muscles wouldn't move.

Before she could drop, Hex lifted one arm around her shoulder and helped her to a secluded spot away from people, and lowered her to the ground. "I love phaser one. Won't even trigger the sensors." She made sure the girl was upright and looked her over. "It will wear off in a second, then you and I are going to have a chat." She held up the weapon. It wasn't a phaser, but looked like a modified Klingon disruptor. "A friendly chat, where you won't give me any bull shit, and I won't use this, and we both get to walk away."

She took a step back out of arms reached, then squatted on her heels, waiting for the light stun to wear off. "When you can talk, start with who you are, and how long you've really been in that meat suit."

Aleczandra could only grunt, her blue eyes flashing hate. She twitched a little as the stun started to wear off. “Bet…you’re not…so hot without…that disruptor,” she taunted. Her eyes ran over the blonde Trill. “Well, still hot,” she said with a teasing smirk. “And whatever do you mean, my dear? I’m way too young to be Joined,” she taunted. “The Symbiote Council would never allow such a thing.”

Hex gave Zandra a flat look. "One: you can drop the psycho kinkstress routine. It shows your age. Two: The Symbiote Commission can allow what it likes. But I do what I want. And I know you do too. Three: I know you're Joined. I can see it when you move. Like you're too big in your skin and your limbs aren't in the right place. Because your memories want to do it one way, and muscle memory on the meat-suit wants to do it another. I can see it when you look around, that ever present sense of deja-vu. You don't know if it’s your memories, or one of the hosts, or what is actually being seen by whoever you're wearing. And I can see it because any normal Federation teenager who dyes her hair a hundred colors doesn't normally go around with wrist spikes and use military style urban pursuit techniques."

Aleczandra smiled. “Very observant,” she said. “I will admit I am still getting used to this body,” she said, looking down at herself. “Kind of hot, actually, if you like them young,” she smiled. “The hair is a bit conspicuous, but nothing a colorizer can’t fix. The knives are nice, though. Good quality. Got them from a friend.” Finally able to move a bit, Aleczandra shifted, keeping her eyes on the blonde Trill. “And Aleczandra is far from normal,” she said.

Deciding to turn the tables a bit, Zandra asked, “So what’s your interest in the Box?”

"Business," Hex replied without actually answering. "Who am I dealing with? On the inside."

“Business,” Zandra smirked knowingly. “That’s why you avoided going inside.” The teen took a breath, tossing rainbow hair out of her face. “I am Juheni Naqiis.” Aleczandra flicked her fingers as if counting something. “Four hosts ago.” She got a wicked smile on her face. “This one was never psychologically evaluated or prepared for joining,” he said. “It took me some time, but I managed to win my way to the surface.”

Hex’s face broke into a wild smile. “Juheni Naqiis! It has been a very long time. I'm Hex. Do you remember me?"

“Hex?” Aleczandra eyed the blonde Trill. “If you’re the same Hex I’m thinking of, you weren’t a hot piece of ass last time I saw you.” She grinned, pushing back her rainbow hair now that she could move again. “What the hells have you been up to?” Aleczandra flexed her fingers as feeling tingled painfully back into her body. “Gods, that hurt like a bitch!”

"Duh, that's the point." Hex laughed and offered Juheni a hand. "I can't even remember what I was wearing a century ago. Was it the smuggler? Or the bomb guy? Fuck, I can't remember."

“Smuggler,” Aleczandra said. “You got me in and out the job on Algeron IV. What was that fat bastard’s name? Trius Secundus. Fattest Romulan I’ve ever seen. Lost my damn blade in his blubber.” Aleczandra laughed. “Just closed the doors behind me and told the guards he was taking a shit.”

Aleczandra let Hex pull her up and then punched her in the gut. “That’s for stunning me, you bitch,” she said with a smirk.

Hex grunted, doubled over for a moment, working through the pain. "Whatever. You never used to be such a pansy." She straightened up, wincing slightly. "Buy you a drink? I've got a proposal."

TBC

Aleczandra Naqiis-Ryan/Juheni Naqiis
Civilian/Former Orion Syndicate assassin
NPC Caleb Ryan

Hex
"Pharmacist"
NPC Yolanthe

 

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