Traitors? MISSION START

Posted on Fri Dec 26th, 2025 @ 10:48pm by Nollel Livaam (*)

Mission: Veils
Location: AllHallows
Timeline: Day 6 15:00
1371 words - 2.7 OF Standard Post Measure

The air tasted of copper and something that she could not put her finger on.

Nollel adjusted the mask over her face. It was carved wood laced with fine golden threads, the mark of an honoured guest which somehow she had found herself as without meaning to. It smelled faintly of smoke and damp moss but it was better that the copper she could smell without it. The Allhallowan attendant who had given it to her had simply said, “It will show you what you need to see.” Typical festival vagueness that she had before.

She had volunteered for the Trial partly out of curiosity, partly because the idea of “facing what hides behind your mask” had felt almost personal after the last few months and her random conversation with her parents that had ended any communication going forward. The rest of the Mary Rose crew were scattered among other festival events or going to the trial lager leaving her alone in the chaos of people wanting to attend the trial. She wished she had brought Michael or Liha for morale support but both had been busy with Engineering.

The entrance to the caverns loomed like a gaping wound in the earth. Inside, the air shimmered with moisture, heavy and still. The only sound was the steady drip of water echoing through unseen chambers. The first chamber was enormous, domed stone threaded with veins of luminous minerals that pulsed like heartbeat light. Masks hung from rock formations, hundreds of them, suspended by silk cords. Faces of wood, glass, and bone rotated slowly in unseen air currents and there was almost a whisper in the air.

“Not real,” she whispered to herself as she was left alone as the other people took their own routes. Her voice echoed, multiplied. Not real, not real, not real. Her own reflection caught in a mask shaped like an angel’s face, its eyes hollow. The voice in her mind was her own, years younger:

You are not good enough to represent Ardana. You will embarrass the family. You will embarrass us.

She stepped back sharply remembering the conversation clearly, any time she thought about it, it reminded her of the differences between her and Michael’s family. The whisper faded as she thought on the family she met on earth who had instantly included her in their gentle teasing and camaraderie. She had been told the caverns were meant to provoke memories, neural fields reacting to emotional frequencies, or so the Allhallowan scholars claimed but no one quite knew why they did it. Yet as she descended deeper, it stopped feeling like metaphor, it was happening to her and she had to admit she was scared at her past haunting her.

The path narrowed into a tunnel barely wide enough for one person. Her torchlight fell on wall carvings: dancers, artists, masked figures bowing to stars. It reminded her of the art she used to make, soft-edged portraits of people she barely understood as a child, it was an art form she had not drawn since her wedding.

The wedding she had blown up.

Literally.

A miswired pyro display, they’d called it. She had stood there watching as the cargo bay went up in flames, sending guests scattering in chaos. It had been the most honest moments of her life quickly followed by a second wedding despite how she had fallen into it but she would not take it back.

Her family had not spoken to her since it had all come out until she had contacted them a few weeks ago to see if she could mend bridges. It reminded her of why she had left and why they were on 2 very different paths.

The tunnel opened into a second cavern, this one flooded ankle-deep with water which got in her boots instantly. Mist rolled along the surface from somewhere ahead reminding her of old films that she fell asleep to often. She shook her head trying to convince herself that it was not real even as a low, resonant hum started to bounce off the walls that made her head spin like she had too many drinks in the bar. Where was Michael to take her home now?

“Cultural ritual,” she told herself firmly. “Not actual spirits.” The hum rose in pitch. Shadows shifted beneath the mist and out of it silhouettes of people, tall and robed, drifted silently. Their masks were pale blurs, faintly luminous. They did not stir the water. Nollel froze. Her hand went to where any other time she would have her phaser instinctively, but she stopped short as she did not have anything. This was a festival not a Ranger situation where she needed a weapon.

“Identify yourselves,” she said firmly.

The nearest figure turned. Its mask mirrored her own face exactly, golden thread and all but the eyes behind it were not hers.

“You left them to burn.”

Nollel’s heart stuttered. “That’s not what…” But the cavern changed around her. The mist ignited into light and sound, and suddenly she was standing in the grand ceremony hall of Stratos, marble arches, crystal chandeliers, the scent of expensive perfumes. Her wedding dress weighed heavy with jewels. The faces of her family, her would-be husband, all turned toward her.

She knew this was an illusion. It did not matter that none of this had actually happened despite how her dreams once in a while made her believe it had. Her throat tightened all the same. This was where she had planned to blow things up but she had gotten the timing wrong, it had happened on the ship instead of on Stratos. But this time unlike her dream, she saw something new: a figure near the back, watching her, masked in gold. She had never noticed them before. The chandeliers burst into flame. Screams. Smoke. Nollel fell to her knees, choking on heat and ash that shouldn’t have been real.

The masked figure moved through the fire unharmed, bent close, and whispered “You ran from us once. Will you run again?”

Then everything went dark.

When she came to, the cavern was silent again. Her trousers were wet; her torch lay half-buried in silt. She took several long, shaky breaths, forcing her pulse back under control. The hallucination or whatever it was had felt too vivid to dismiss as she shakily hauled herself up.

Her comm badge chirped once, distorted. “…ollel? Do you read? …interference …Captain says….” Static swallowed the rest but it was enough to bring her to her senses.

She flipped it open. “I’m here. I’m all right.” The echo of her voice came back half a second later, but it was not hers.

“No, you’re not.” She froze. “You bombed your wedding, Nollel. What will you destroy next to feel free?” She aimed her torch toward the voice, a tunnel branching off to the right that had not been there before.

Every instinct screamed to call for beam-out, but she did not want to be seen as someone unable to do something on the senior team and this was meant to be a festival and fun. But she was terrified and she knew if comms signals were struggling she was not going to be able to beamed out. What was happening down here was not just local folklore.

From within the corridor came a single word. “Traitor.” She shook her head against that thought, she was nothing of the sort. She was loyal, she had built that trust with the crew, regained herself and found a new family.

Nollel turned as she heard footsteps and instantly smiled with relief as she saw Gregnol striding across the water. She knew he was real and not an illusion as his boots made sound and sent water flying.

“Gregnol?” She whispered in relief before her smile faded as she watched the man lift a phaser and fire at her. She blinked confused as the phaser pulse hit her square in the chest and she felt her whole body seize up and everything went dark with a final confused question.

Why was Gregnol stunning her?? Was she a traitor after all?