Pretty Little Fires

Posted on Tue Nov 15, 2022 @ 5:18am by Lieutenant T'Lul & Civilian 'Key Holder' Yolanthe Ibalin

972 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Si vis pacem, para bellum
Location: Promenade, Level 3
Timeline: A week after Firebug

[on]

Angharad walked along level three of the Promenade. It was a largely arbitrary choice. But the fact the old Cardassian consulate, still empty, was here and it would send a message had swayed the decision. She flicked out her lighter, and passed her hand through the flame. So pretty, so full of life.

She tossed it into one of the flower planters that sat on the walkway, knowing the woody bark that covered the surface would take hold after a bit. She pulled another lighter out of her pocket, and began flicking it off and on again ambling along, barely remembering to tear her eyes away from the dancing flame to watch for any Cardassian looking her way.

There was a waste bin outside one of the food shops, not terribly full, because the bins would have been emptied and hour or so ago. There might be some fuel in there, or there would be, if the lighters' fuel lasted long enough. She flicked her lighter open, gave the little flame a little grin and then tossed it in the bin

She was already opening her third lighter before she was two foot past the bin, smiling at the flickering light, feeling the warmth across her palm, so soft and luminous. So small and unassuming. It was flicked into the curtains hanging just inside a shop doorway. Soon it would be something bright and brilliant.

Her fourth lighter was flicked into a janitors cart that was tucked out of the way in a recess, landing in amongst the chemicals and cloths in the top of the little robots hopper. Once it caught, it would be the prettiest of the lot, Angharad knew. Fire could be so many pretty colours when you added the right things to it. All the colours on the rainbow.

Her fifth and penultimate lighter brought her to the end of her path beneath sabotaged sensors and cameras. Facing into the darkened shell of the old Cardassian Consulate. She knew inside things had been laid down, matts impregnated with copper carbonate, and potassium sulphate and strontium nitrate and more, all meant to tint the flames.

She flicked her fifth lighter open. the small yellow flame, so plain, so ordinary, was going to be come a thing of beauty. She snapped the lighter shut, kissed it for luck, and then snapped it open again, and tossed it into the darkness ahead of her.

Angharad retreated to the vantage point she had chosen, on the second floor, near The Box of Delights. Her hand in her pocket found her final lighter, once she wasn't giving up, so she always had fire at her fingers. The fire suppression system should be disabled. She'd get a good view of the raw beauty of her fire. She didn't have to wait long. From far away, almost as if through water, she heard the first shouts of alarm as the planter and the bin finally got going.

And then the billows of chemical smoke, acrid and green tinged heralded the main event.

The former consulate caught, the fuel for the fire catching slowly, and growing in brightness as the chemical mats were consumed, Soon, blazing merrily behind the clear windows, was a rainbow wall of flame.

Meeting with Dorian Gabriel had been interesting, to say the least. Angharad was not wrong, he was a human supremacist type. Of course, that made it more than simple for T'Lul to enlist his aid. After all, Cardassians were not human. While the Captain also was not human, a trill certainly looked a lot more human than a Cardassian, if you excused the spots. A Vulcan was not human either, but somehow green blood, organs not in the same place as humans, and pointy ears were still a lesser fault than the Cardassians. T'Lul decided that someday she would have to make a study of this individual and write a paper regarding the contradiction of the external versus internal perspectives of the bigot.

The mobs started their march. T'Lul, on the other hand caught up with Angharad and her vantage point. Mob mentality was difficult to control but T'Lul had the skills and training to do it. "You have done well, Angharad. I do not see that you let any fires get too far out of control."

Angharad laughed. "That's not because of me. Fire will do as it wants. It's pretty, but you can't trust it." She gave the Vulcan a sideways glance touched with just a little bit of mania. Something shattered below, something thrown against a window, "Kind of like that lot, only they're less pretty."

The Vulcan simply responded, "Your comments are not logical, Angharad. Fire is inanimate. It has no will. However, there is a concept of entropy, which you seem to revel in." T'Lul shifted her posture, discomforted in the mob's throwing of things into a window. She had to control the mob but not so much where it became orderly. She wondered how one could judge such chaos and keep it being a productive force.

"You have no poetry, T'Lul." Another lighter appeared in Angharad's fingers, "But then again, we're not here for poetry. We're here to watch things burn."

"I have read and recited poetry," T'Lul replied to Angharad without looking at her. "You may be here to watch things burn. I am here to secure Yolanthe's release and make certain that there are no unnecessary harms. Yolanthe is necessary to the greater welfare and thus she must be freed."

The lighter flipped open, "Well, i think we've got their attention now."

T'Lul watched as Angharad flicked the lighter, concerned that she would start something else. "I do believe that you are likely correct. Hopefully it will procure the desired result."


Angharad
[NPC by Soran]

and

Lieutenant T'Lul
Chief Counselor

 

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