A Not So Sweet Escape

Posted on Thu Jan 11th, 2024 @ 3:27pm by Chief Comms Rivek

Mission: Elsewhere
Timeline: December 2397
1116 words - 2.2 OF Standard Post Measure

Rivek thought spacelegs was an old Orion's tale. Even the thought of being a few meters away from open space made his stomach churn. Being stuck in a blackened cargo container didn't help. He couldn't comprehend the rippling movements of warp speed without any visual stimuli to accompany it. Rivek placed his hands on both sides of the box to maintain his balance. He inhaled as much air as his lungs could hold.

He tried to remain thankful to get aboard the ship. Rivek shook the police and social elite off digitally all the time. With a secret identity, he could even stand face-to-face with them, and no one was the wiser. Now that the smoke had dissipated, everyone knew he was the Shadow Arbiter.

It was only twelve hours ago the discovery. Cops flooded his apartment before he realized it happened. Rivek made it out in time—his anxiety-purchase of a security system paid off. He was pursued on the streets by cops and mercs alike. He fled to the only place he knew was safe.

"It seems unlikely that this was Mother's only contact with a ship," Rivek thought as the ship stirred. Maybe his mother was ashamed that someone leaked his true identity. Her assassination business thrived for decades without being discovered. It was logical to send her son out on the first cargo ship. She couldn't be linked to him. Did she ship him off for his benefit or her own?

A bump and a rumble made the ship creak. From the jolt and stir of impulse engines, Rivek could only assume they dropped out of warp. He was given no knowledge of where he was going.

"You will be safe to depart from there," mother said. "There you can find a job and lay low. Jerichon military has no jurisdiction there, but you have many adversaries. Be vigilant of hitmen."

Those were the final words from a mother to her son. Without an embrace, she sent him off-planet. It might have been their last moment together. The thought made Rivek heave.

He took in deep breaths. 3-D chess pieces moved in his head. He was level.

Logic was the last connection to his mother. He might never see her again, but he can honor her by keeping his emotions in check.

He didn't notice the clacks emanating from beyond the container. The doors creaked before opening. A bright light flooded in. Rivek held a hand to give his eyes a reprieve from the beam. A short shadowed figure came closer.

"We are here," the Tellarite gruffed. She threw a backpack at Rivek, "Change of clothes and istik. Courtesy of your mother."

She turned and walked away, presumably off the ship. Rivek fussed his old clothes off and pulled on the new ones. It was looser than he was used to. The worn fabric was fit with some stains. His nostrils flared at the smell. It was the odor of a dock worker. Rivek hoped this wasn't a belonging of one of his mother's targets.

He looked in the bag: istik, a bar of gold-pressed latinum, and a PADD. Of the three, Rivek found the most value in the PADD. He can convert the simple device into a comms dampener, hacking station, or something else of use. He pulled it across his shoulders and took his first steps out of the container.

His knees buckled as he walked. It was firm ground, but it felt like he was hurdling through space. Dockworkers filled the bay with other containers just like his own. He had a fleeting thought if there were other stowaways aboard. Rivek found the bay doors open.

Just outside was a hangar with a few other ships. They were each unloading supplies. Some had dilithium barrels, Romulan ale, or caged animals (which Rivek couldn't tell were for pets or cuisine). Among the crowd, he fit in well. Besides his pointed ears and eyebrows, he was in good company with green skins. The station must have allied with the Syndicate.

He promptly left the docking pad before anyone noticed his arrival. He found his way to the concourse, which had a more diverse selection of materials carted around. Rivek found himself wandering around the corridor. He found a sign that said "Replimat." He wasn't famished. His stomach still churned into a knot. But a cup of mint tea sounded delightful.

The lines were short, so he got up to it quickly. He paid an istik for a cup and found himself in a secluded corner of the replimat. From there, he pulled out his PADD. It took no time for him to gain access to the station's log of all docked ships. Most were crews-for-hire or shippers. He fought the urge to see which lucrative trades he could exploit. He had to be cautious.

The tea was too hot for the mint tea. It tasted burnt. The disgust rushed through Rivek's arm, causing the tea to spill. He took a napkin from the table to wipe off his jeans. The stain was unnoticeable next to the rest of the worn trousers. As he wiped, he felt the hairs on his neck rise.

His eyes met those of a Tiburonian. The woman dressed just as bland as Rivek. She moved her hand slowly to her thigh. A gleam caught Rivek's vision. The sting of a phaser shot past Rivek, barely grazing his pointed ears. He threw the table on its side and tucked himself behind it. The tea flew off the table, scalding the woman.

She screeched a witchy scream. There was a pop, and a flash, and silence. He heard the crowd around him murmur in confusion. The smoke from the phaser welt on the wall behind him settled. He peered from behind the table to see people stunned. The woman was gone.

Rivek stood up slowly. The rest of the people shortly returned to their meals. It must not be an uncommon occurrence. He lifted the table back to its place. The metal mug was still hot when he picked it up. The puddle had a distinct separation from where she stood, but there was no other sign of her. There was no trail of tea leading out of the replimat. He placed the mug down and quickly made his leave.

He looked at his PADD when a ship caught his eye. It was a gallant-looking vessel. For its slim features, it looked like it could pack a punch. A typical merc or assassin wouldn't dare to start a fight with it.

Rivek's eyes were pinned to the name.

"SS Mary Rose."