Bump in the Road

Posted on Wed Feb 10th, 2021 @ 2:03am by Mauricio Arnaldo & Ensign Aenardha Sh'vastarth & Qaraq (Deceased) & Katya

Mission: The Gauntlet
Location: Qaraq's Vessel
Timeline: During "On the Trail" (Before 'Some Time Later')

ON:

Aenardha and Qaraq were at the controls of Qaraq's vessel. Qaraq was simply sitting back and enjoying the view of star-speckled yet empty space before them. Aenardha was taking in the information her PADD was getting from the ship's computer. She was hard at work but still donned her casual and colorless attire. The text on her PADD was displayed but was also underlaid beneath lines of Braille which Aenardha ran her fingers over. One finger per line and five lines at a time. She was Braille speed-reading and clearly taking in only the most important information for the moment.

Of course, she could have simultaneously tapped into Qaraq's vision to likewise look out amongst the stars but, to better focus her mind on the information she wanted to know, she held even her own eyes shut. Every little bit could prove useful at a moment's notice and she wanted to be ready.

Qaraq felt more and more awkward in the moment. He fiddled with his controls and feigned as much interest and calm at the nothing around him, fully aware the Aenar could detect all of that. At once he felt self conscious.

Unable to stand the silence, he finally cleared his throat. "It is so strange for me to hear silence. I've been tending bar on Delavi for a very long time and am used to yelling over the ambient noise of a crowd."

It took a few seconds, long enough to make it evident that she was fully engrossed in her studies, but Aenardha found a stopping point. Her hand stopped upon her PADD. She did feel an air of uneasiness coming from Qaraq. Perhaps a break was warranted. She leaned back in her seat and opened her eyes. Tapping into Qaraq's vision, she could see little change in the scenery than from before, despite them speeding through space.

"Then you would find the household of a family of Aenar, very strange indeed. Whole conversations, arguments even, can be had at the snap of a finger, all telepathically, and without anyone having to speak or leave their rooms." She turned to him and could tell from his vision that she was looking him in the eye. "It was strange for me, my first few months on Earth, to hear the spoken word constantly. Especially among other telepaths. SF Regulations forbid mind-reading on a whim. However there is a special regulation for the Aenar who can see telepathically via public vision."

"You mean all Aenar are blind?!" Qaraq bellowed.

"Not all," she said. "By Federation standards, yes, we are all legally blind. Most Aenar, however can claim to see colors and blurry shapes. I, on the other hand," she paused a short second, "well my eyes do not work at all. When alone, I can see nothing at all. In a crowd, I can see everything. And I do enjoy seeing through unfamiliar eyes. Like your for instance. You have an amazing vision."

Qaraq grinned. "Thank you! You yourself are an amazing vision!" Qaraq followed this with a hearty laugh, but the statement did sound genuine.

Aenardha smiled, briefly, at the candid comment. She felt a little bit of a rush as though her albino features started turning a shade of red. "I do thank you," she said as his laughter subsided. "What I meant," she decided to explain, "is that your vision allows you to see just above and below the light spectrum. Low levels of infrared and ultraviolet. Your kind must be," given the amount above and below that he can see, "or long ago must have been, highly predatory."

Qaraq nodded. "An astute observation," he rumbled. "We Broots are natural hunters and fighters. Our nature is a predominantly violent one." He laughed again. "We love a good fight! That's why I enjoy being a bartender on such an ebullient little world; there's always something to fight about!" Qaraq's grin was wide and to emphasize his words, he slammed his fist into his other hand. His blue facial features had turned a lively violet.

But just as fast as it had changed, it went black to its usual bright blue, and his features softened. "But do not take me for some savage, my dear. As much as I may like violence, I abhor the taking of a life. Fighting must be fair; and a fair fight never ends in death. Life is precious, because sometimes it's all we have. When I met your Admiral Francis, all he had was his life. It is my nature to help those who need it. And being a very wealthy man, I always have that power. I've pledged to defend my Federation friends against the cowardly Alrakis Pact. You have my word I will get you to your destination safely."

Aenardha nodded her appreciation. “Well, us Aenar are natural pacifists. We generally abhor violence and stay away from military and political entanglements. I guess that makes me an odd one. If needed, though, I will do what is needed, what I must, to ensure mission success. If that means firing a phaser or telepathically causing pain…” she shrugged and did not know how to finish that statement. She did find the symmetry, or lack of, quite amazing. A brute like Qaraq who loved violence but was showing a soft and kind side and an Aenar like Aenardha who was a pacifist but was admitting to willingly cause pain.

It was not an entirely pleasing thought, just ironic and still amazing all the same.

"How interesting," Qaraq said with a grin. "Our races seem to have much to learn from each other... if they could ever get along!" With that, Qaraq erupted in laughter. "Come! We must celebrate our bond of friendship with a drink and a song!"

Qaraq's laughter almost made her laugh as well. She did crack a smile though. "I...uh...I think I need to return to my room. I should medi..." and she stopped herself mid-syllable as an awareness came about her. Her antenna stood erect and the cups turned about. Anaedha did not move a muscle but one could tell she was fully active, mentally. A wave of malice washed upon her and then came a feeling of success and surprise had been achieved. Three words rushed to the forefront of her mind. "Stop the Pandora," she said blankly.

Aenardha snapped her attention to Qaraq. "There is a consciousness out there." Then she realized more fully. "There is a ship approaching. Fast. Small. One person."

The sensors of Qaraq's ship erupted to life as a ship suddenly appeared.

In a sudden flash, Qaraq was at the controls reading the details of the small ship. He tapped in the command to hail the vessel.

"This is Qaraq, Captain of the Delavi-1. We are a peaceful cargo vessel. Please identify yourself." Qaraq stopped and waited for a reply. He turned to Aenardha and spoke quietly for the first time since Aenardha had met him. "Can you detect anything? Their feelings or intentions?"

She was not yet abled enough to quickly differentiate mental thought patterns with species, so she was not able to accurate identify at least what race the newcomer was. He had some simple thoughts, however. "Stop the Pandora. That is all I am getting. Not sure if this is for a bounty or for vengeance, but I do not see that he will let us leave without a thorough scan of this vessel." Another alarm went off. Targeting lock maybe? "And a barrage of questions. You should get Briya up here. She's a diplomat. Maybe she could speak with him."

Qaraq couldn't help but laugh. "Ah, my dear," he boomed. "Take no offense, but if they see a Federation diplomat aboard my ship, they will destroy us without hesitation. The words 'Stop the Pandora' have been circulating for days! There isn't anyone in the Expanse who hasn't heard them! Right now your greatest advantage is me!"

The queen trusted him. This meant that Qaraq's sentient cargo should also place their trust in him. Aenardha powered down her PADD and hid it away. A scan of the ship would certainly show the presence of a Risian, which was easy to explain; pleasure. As for an Aenar...

"If asked, I am your servant...bought for..." and she could not think of anything quickly, "whatever reason you come up with." Aenardha was not good in tense situations and it showed. "And my name is...Ovetsya." But practice breeds skill. It suddenly felt like it was a hundred degrees hotter and she felt a cold perspiration form on her skin.

The newly arrived vessel pulled along side and matched the speed of the Delavi-1. Qaraq was unable to adequately identify it based on sensors. Further inspection proved that it was more of a smattering of vessels into one instead of a vessel from a singular design. If Romulan, Cardassian, and possibly Breen starfighters all had an extended relationship that finally produced a space-worthy vessel, then this was it. It certainly did not appear to be able to fly in atmo with any degree of speed or maneuverability but there was nothing of the sort nearby. To make matters a little worse, the vessel appeared to have three separate torpedo bays, one Romulan, one Cardassian, and one Breen if Qaraq had to guess. And one of each in terms of disruptor ability. In short, someone had a crazy idea to make a predatory starfighter that could adapt to several scenarios and it appeared to have worked.

On the bright side, however, to pilot finally returned Qaraq's hail. "I am Backlack. I am the renown Pakled bounty hunter. I am the pilot of the Chimera. I have you in target lock of three different disruptors. I am about to be very rich."

Aenardha had not studied the Pakled people and had heard of them only in passing. She concluded he must have been mentally training to avoid telepathic contact or was perhaps naturally able to block her as she was still only getting simple thoughts from him. She decided to remain quiet and let Qaraq do the talking.

When Qaraq spoke, it was a thundering wail of authority. "I am Qaraq, the wealthiest and most powerful Broot in Alrakis space! By threatening me, you have signed your own death warrant! If my sons and daughters were to find you upon my death, they will slash open your bowels, castrate you, desecrate you, and hang you crucified and displayed on Delavi Station. Then they will kill you. My wife will be less merciful. But I wouldn't worry. Most likely you will be found and killed by the next bounty hunter who will collect TENFOLD the highest bounty in the universe just for your head on a platter!"

As he said this, Qaraq worked carefully on his control panel. Seeing through his eyes, Aenardha could see that he was using an algorithm to latch onto the Chimera's system and brought up the command to shut down engines and life support. He must have paid quite a large sum to have such equipment. It was a good means of escape from a ship as small as Backlack's, and it avoided casualties, provided Backlack was knowledgeable enough to restore life support.

There a a short span of silence. Possibly from Backlack attempting to corroborate Qaraq's identity and story. Whether he managed to or not, "I am sorry," said Backlack with a troubled voice. "I am only looking for..."

Qaraq cleared his throat, and the next words he said in a softer, deeper voice. "If you wish, however, you can let me pass and see the light of another day. The choice is yours." His hand hovered over the "Execute" command on his console.

There was a silence, at first. The channel was still open. Qaraq and Aenardha could still here him breathe nervously. Then the channel went dead and, suddenly, all systems aboard Qaraq's ship failed, the room went dark but for the stars, and the Delavi-1 began to drift. Qaraq was confused for only a moment, until he saw the Chimera veer off and jump to warp. As the backup systems came online, Qaraq erupted in laughter.

"Well played, my Pakled friend! Well played!" he boomed, and continued to laugh.

"I'm confused," Aenardha admitted. "The Pakled? I am not familiar with them. And..." She sat back pondering his mental ability. "And I was getting nothing from him but simple thoughts."

"And that is all you'll get," Qaraq rumbled. "The Pakleds are pirates. Stupid ones. And very gullible. I've met many at my bar. They love to gamble and they always lose!" Qaraq laughed again. "Tell me, have you ever enjoyed a Ktarian beer?"

Aenartha still had questions about the Pakled but decided they could wait. Everything she needed to know about them was already at her fingertips. "It was not Ktarian, but I did try this...beer...when I was on Earth. It was made with synthehol though." She turned her chair to face him and used his vision to make sure she was looking in him in the eye when he was not focused on the controls. "Never tried the real stuff myself. I am not sure you want to be around a drunk telepath. I hear is gets weird...for everyone." Given her situation, Aenardha felt that, perhaps, getting into that state would be acceptable as it would help. "If the real stuff tastes anything like the synthehol...well, I am not sure I would like it."

Qaraq smiled and nodded. "I can understand that. There are a number of varieties of people who visit me who are not drinkers of alcohol. But there is much more to do in my bar than just drink. We have various activities, from gambling, contests involving both physical or mental strength. We have two excellent holosuites, and there is always a song to be sung! But I have never entertained an Aenar before, and if I ever do I want them to be satisfied with the experience! What does an Aenar do for fun?"

Aenardha nearly laughed at the thought. "Oh you may never entertain an Aenar that isn't me. So very few of us leave Andor...and, when...if we do...then..." she trailed off recalling to mind what it was that got her away from that planet. "Well, we do enjoy mental games. My friends and I, when we were growing up liked to play various versions of chess, all the while being allowed to read each other's minds. This made strategizing very difficult. It was really a means to learn our own mental and telepathic ability, learn to mislead others who are eavesdropping. Seeing that I am completely blind, my opponents would normally try to make me believe I was moving the wrong piece or that my pieces were arranged differently than I though. We also like to take on the Vulcans in mental games. Though the Andorians are not telepathic, they do take pride knowing that the Aenar and the Vulcans are about tied in both strategy and ability. When we need to unwind," despite little need for that, "I like to be alone with my thoughts, sitting on the beach. Tell me, how cold can you make your holosuites?"

Qaraq gave a soft chuckle, or at least what would pass as a soft chuckle from Qaraq. "My holosuites can simulate any condition; from the biting cold of Rura Penthe to the scorching heat of Vulcan's Forge!"

"I will certainly pay a visit, should I ever find myself out that way. I know it is only a program, but sometimes we need a reminder of home," though Aenardha being reminded of home meant to be reminded of what took her away from that home; about to be married off, her mental 'attack' on an Andorian captain, a little girl skipping along the road humming an incomprehensible tune.

Aenardha furrowed her brow and her antenna fidgeted confusedly. She could not remember the name of that little girl.

Sending that thought away, "How long has it been since you and your son have been home? To your home planet that is?"

Qaraq looked away at the stars, and his smile seemed to relax. The blue tint of his face dimmed a little. "I'm not sure which of my children have visited the Broot homeworld last, but my wife and a few of our children went back two years ago to visit my dying father."

Aenardha could almost feel the atmosphere change. She did not have to be a telepath to understand the solemn feelings now emanating from Qaraq. But, being a telepath, Aenardha was able to, in her words, see those solemn feelings.

Qaraq smiled. "It was actually quite nice to reconnect with all my brothers and sisters, as well as their offspring. We Broots prefer large families, you see." There was a small pause as Qaraq was momentarily reflecting.

"I was in the room when my father passed," Qaraq continued. He was surprisingly solemn for a man who could laugh so easily. And then his face returned to the glowing blue it had been before. "It was a beautiful moment. He died very quietly, with honor. My people are warriors, but we see little honor in dying violently. To live a long life, and to die in the presence of family and friends... that is true honor. Broots see one's death as something as intimate as one's birth."

'Long life,' he had said. And afterward, 'to die in the presence of family and friends.' To the outside eye, Aenardha sat there longer than expected. She seemed deep in contemplation, unmoving. And Qaraq could almost feel a level of pain like a splinter in the mind that simply would not go away but would only get worse the more you pick at it. Was she pushing out any thoughts? Unknowingly?

A deep, quieted red began to form around the horned outline of Qaraq's face, and the luminescence of the blue tapered a little. It was an unconscious reaction, like blushing. The awkward silence was back, only this time Qaraq felt partially responsible for it.

"I..." he stammered, "I hope you don't feel uncomfortable... especially if it's from something I may have said."

"Oh," she regained herself, "...no. I...uh..." Aenardha found she was consciously able to file those thoughts away. "...found myself in long thoughts is all. It is good that there are those who put as much thought into death as they do life. Not all do. The Aenar, we like to link with family members who are dying. Link with permission that is. This is so we can share in their last thoughts and offer calming thoughts of our own. We consider close friends as family, so blood relation is not always necessary. I...have not had the chance to enjoy this practice," she said truthfully, though in such a way so as to be misleading; a lie.

Deciding to change the subject, Aenardha asked, "will you be going back to your work once we are aboard the Pandora? Or will you be sticking around for a time?"

"I have no debt to the Pandora," Qaraq said. "But I do have a friend there. Admiral Gordon Francis. I have learned much of Starfleet and the Federation through him. He is a very honorable man, but clearly there is great corruption within your people. I have no interest in your corruption. I am doing this task as a favor to Katya, my oldest, dearest friend. If she or Admiral Francis require additional service from me, I will grant it. If not, I will return to Delavi and concern myself in the matter no further."

"I had no idea," she admitted, "of the corruption within Starfleet until I was on Carnwennan for a time." She felt a bit ashamed to that admittance and her antenna drooped in response. The thought of an intelligence officer unaware of corruption within the organization said officer is supposed to be the most intelligent about. Then again, "I guess the Academy kept us under an umbrella of need-to-know knowledge. Now that the umbrella is gone..." She turned to him. "Perhaps my presence aboard the Pandora, assimilating the knowledge she knows, can help uncover and expose the guilty parties. Your actions are helping us to be rid of this corruption. When we have succeeded, and we will succeed, then we will owe you. If you cannot trust Starfleet, then I hope you can come to trust me. Once this is over, if ever you need anything that I have the power to supply, I will do what I can."

The Broot smiled, a gesture he wondered if her telepathy would allow her to see. "And I will not hesitate to make such a request."

[Meanwhile]

On Katya's ship, there was a deafening silence within the cockpit as Katya stared out the window, Mauricio by her side with a slight grin. After several agonising moments of complete quiet, Katya sighed loudly.

"Is it... space?" She asked impatiently.

Mauricio laughed. "No. No. Something else beginning with an S."

"That you are spying with your eye?" The Anh'Iran asked, clearly flummoxed.

"Yes. Something in our view. Right now." Mauricio nodded joyfully.

More silence followed as the Queen of Paradise indulged this human game and looked around her, trying to think of the Federation word for the objects in her vision. Frustrated at having no response, she sighed once more - this time, louder.

"I give up." Katya declared with a shrug. "What is it?"

"Spaniard!" Mauricio giggled, pointing to himself.

Katya just shook her head. "I don't know what that is."

"It's me, I'm Spanish." He explained, unable to contain his mirth.

"I thought you were human." Katya sighed.

Arnaldo was clearly pleased, even if Katya clearly was not. "Yes but I come from a part of Earth that is called Spain. I think I won that." Mauricio grinned.

"I think I cannot wait until we are spying Paradise with my little eye." Katya remarked dryly, shaking her head.

OFF