Twenty-Five Years 08 - Disruption
Jul. 19th, 2009 11:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
measured_wordsSeries notes and other chapters here. Thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
earis for betaing :)
Twenty-Five Years 08 – Disruption
For the first few weeks of their incarceration, the prison work schedule seemed monotonous. Nero had been allowed three days to recover, the guards uncharacteristically accepting of the Rihannsu’s refusal to allow them to disturb their leader. On the fourth day, they waved rifles in the crew’s faces, and the captain had pulled himself to his feet and walked with the rest of the men to the lift. He stayed with Ayel, H’Man and Vanor, and worked until the doctor made him stop. In the evenings, Paren told her stories, and they made their plans. In the days, they worked.
The women had their own labours, though by all accounts there was less of it. They helped prepare the food – mostly protein gruel for the inmates. Those who were better trusted assisted with meals for the guards as well, though no Rihannsu were assigned to that detail. They were expected to keep the barracks in order, and as part of these duties managed to scavenge for things of use. They build a private enclosure at the far end of their own hall to give the captain some privacy. There were also less pleasant things for them to clean, like the prison latrines.
“Its degrading,” Aifn had complained. “At least your work has some honour.”
“What Rihannsu could find honour in bondage?” Ayel had shot back. “We are meant to be masters, not slaves.” He could have said more, but only reminded her that their time would come. At least you can rest. He never felt rested anymore, just bone-weary, muscle sore. The physical aspect he could handle, but he felt mentally drained as well, and that he could ill-afford. He kept telling himself that he’d get used to it soon enough – another day or so. Always tomorrow…
There was no real night on Rura Penthe. With three suns in the system, there was always one on the horizon to force a haze of light through the snow and storms. The prison, underground regardless, operated on an arbitrary twenty-six hour cycle. When the guards came, all save the sentries had been sleeping. Nero woke him – the raised voices had not. Wrapping his furs around him quickly, Ayel followed his captain towards the sounds. Others were waking now as well.
“The next one of you who stands in our way will sent to the surface!” A loud Klingon voice boomed through the cavern. The guards hadn’t forced their way inside the Rihannsu territory in over a week now, relying instead on smaller patrol to pass through after first-meal to ensure that no one was shirking their various duties.
“Captain!” Llhran, a young computer tech who’d drawn the early shift, turned and saluted as Nero approached. The side of his face was puffy, stung a bright green. Rhyd, the other sentry stood his ground. He was larger and more solid – one of Vanor’s crew. The captain acknowledged the younger Rihannsu with a nod, and fixed the lead guard, Maunn, with a challenging stare. Maunn had put himself at the head of a number of conflicts with their people, over food, work, women… Ayel sneered in distaste as he addressed him.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
“Your women have work to do. Send them out now, or we’re coming to take them.”
“Work? They’re sleeping.” Ayel ignored the fact that T’Lalea had crept into place beside him, and that by now half the compound must be awake. “What of the sad little rock could possibly be so urgent?”
“Send them out!” Maunn shoved his disruptor rifle in Ayel’s face. Before he could react, Nero wrenched the barrel away from the Klingon, who now seemed unable to look away from the captain’s burning eyes.
“What. Work,” Ayel repeated, smug despite the other guns aimed his way. Maunn held on to his answer until Nero inclined his head slightly – a subtle and threatening gesture Ayel was still getting used to. He could never pull that off if he still had hair. They’d improvised some knives to keep their heads shaved. There weren’t enough to go around, but Nero kept the sharpest.
“Stabilizing the ore for transport.” Maunn spat, seething hate and resentment. It was clear they’d been warned off of Nero. They still want information from him. The captain nodded. In the background a number of other women stumbled by tiredly, escorted by more guards.
“Then they’ll be with you soon enough.” Nero turned and headed back into the barracks, but Ayel remained with the sentries. The captain’s role had played out, but Ayel wasn’t willing to relinquish control of the scene. “How long should we expect them to be gone?”
“They’ll be back when they’re finished.”
“Finished?” There was a lot of ore stockpiled. He’d seen the amount that had come out of the mines since their arrival, and Elements knew how long it had been since the last pick-up. With modern – what he’d come to think of as real – technology, like what was available on Narada, the processing of high volumes of dilithium ore wouldn’t take more than a few hours. If he’d had to judge them by the geotech he’d seen here, he’d have barely thought the Klingons capable of space travel. It could take days. “I’d be more precise if I were you. You wouldn’t want us to get worried.”
Maunn was sizing him up again. He was so transparent, his thoughts could have been written across the silvery metal of his uniform helmet. Sure, he had a gun, and sure his friends did to. Maybe these Klingons really did have the hearts of warriors. But the chance that he would, himself, survive if he so much as laid a hand on Ayel with so many cranky Rihannsu at hand was slim. And there would be no honour in dying in a prison riot because of a little backtalk, no mater how many unarmed men you took down. No, no – there would certainly be better days, and ways, to die. Ayel smirked, and Maunn spat again at his feet.
“How should I know? Days maybe. Are you so afraid of what will happen if you go too long without a woman, Romulan? Only you have so few of them to go around… Perhaps you already know – perhaps you’re not worried at all!”
His own anger enflamed him then, and Maunn laughed at his little victory.
“Someday,” he hissed.
“Someday soon, I hope,” the Klingon chortled.
And then T’Lalea was back, with Paren, Aifn, and the handful of other women, barely over ten percent of Narada’s crew. The security chief caught his arm and gave him a stern look.
“I’ve left Illraehi in charge. Keep Nero out of trouble. Keep yourself out of trouble. We’ll be fine.”
Ayel nodded. Elements guide us all.
earis for betaing :)Twenty-Five Years 08 – Disruption
For the first few weeks of their incarceration, the prison work schedule seemed monotonous. Nero had been allowed three days to recover, the guards uncharacteristically accepting of the Rihannsu’s refusal to allow them to disturb their leader. On the fourth day, they waved rifles in the crew’s faces, and the captain had pulled himself to his feet and walked with the rest of the men to the lift. He stayed with Ayel, H’Man and Vanor, and worked until the doctor made him stop. In the evenings, Paren told her stories, and they made their plans. In the days, they worked.
The women had their own labours, though by all accounts there was less of it. They helped prepare the food – mostly protein gruel for the inmates. Those who were better trusted assisted with meals for the guards as well, though no Rihannsu were assigned to that detail. They were expected to keep the barracks in order, and as part of these duties managed to scavenge for things of use. They build a private enclosure at the far end of their own hall to give the captain some privacy. There were also less pleasant things for them to clean, like the prison latrines.
“Its degrading,” Aifn had complained. “At least your work has some honour.”
“What Rihannsu could find honour in bondage?” Ayel had shot back. “We are meant to be masters, not slaves.” He could have said more, but only reminded her that their time would come. At least you can rest. He never felt rested anymore, just bone-weary, muscle sore. The physical aspect he could handle, but he felt mentally drained as well, and that he could ill-afford. He kept telling himself that he’d get used to it soon enough – another day or so. Always tomorrow…
There was no real night on Rura Penthe. With three suns in the system, there was always one on the horizon to force a haze of light through the snow and storms. The prison, underground regardless, operated on an arbitrary twenty-six hour cycle. When the guards came, all save the sentries had been sleeping. Nero woke him – the raised voices had not. Wrapping his furs around him quickly, Ayel followed his captain towards the sounds. Others were waking now as well.
“The next one of you who stands in our way will sent to the surface!” A loud Klingon voice boomed through the cavern. The guards hadn’t forced their way inside the Rihannsu territory in over a week now, relying instead on smaller patrol to pass through after first-meal to ensure that no one was shirking their various duties.
“Captain!” Llhran, a young computer tech who’d drawn the early shift, turned and saluted as Nero approached. The side of his face was puffy, stung a bright green. Rhyd, the other sentry stood his ground. He was larger and more solid – one of Vanor’s crew. The captain acknowledged the younger Rihannsu with a nod, and fixed the lead guard, Maunn, with a challenging stare. Maunn had put himself at the head of a number of conflicts with their people, over food, work, women… Ayel sneered in distaste as he addressed him.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
“Your women have work to do. Send them out now, or we’re coming to take them.”
“Work? They’re sleeping.” Ayel ignored the fact that T’Lalea had crept into place beside him, and that by now half the compound must be awake. “What of the sad little rock could possibly be so urgent?”
“Send them out!” Maunn shoved his disruptor rifle in Ayel’s face. Before he could react, Nero wrenched the barrel away from the Klingon, who now seemed unable to look away from the captain’s burning eyes.
“What. Work,” Ayel repeated, smug despite the other guns aimed his way. Maunn held on to his answer until Nero inclined his head slightly – a subtle and threatening gesture Ayel was still getting used to. He could never pull that off if he still had hair. They’d improvised some knives to keep their heads shaved. There weren’t enough to go around, but Nero kept the sharpest.
“Stabilizing the ore for transport.” Maunn spat, seething hate and resentment. It was clear they’d been warned off of Nero. They still want information from him. The captain nodded. In the background a number of other women stumbled by tiredly, escorted by more guards.
“Then they’ll be with you soon enough.” Nero turned and headed back into the barracks, but Ayel remained with the sentries. The captain’s role had played out, but Ayel wasn’t willing to relinquish control of the scene. “How long should we expect them to be gone?”
“They’ll be back when they’re finished.”
“Finished?” There was a lot of ore stockpiled. He’d seen the amount that had come out of the mines since their arrival, and Elements knew how long it had been since the last pick-up. With modern – what he’d come to think of as real – technology, like what was available on Narada, the processing of high volumes of dilithium ore wouldn’t take more than a few hours. If he’d had to judge them by the geotech he’d seen here, he’d have barely thought the Klingons capable of space travel. It could take days. “I’d be more precise if I were you. You wouldn’t want us to get worried.”
Maunn was sizing him up again. He was so transparent, his thoughts could have been written across the silvery metal of his uniform helmet. Sure, he had a gun, and sure his friends did to. Maybe these Klingons really did have the hearts of warriors. But the chance that he would, himself, survive if he so much as laid a hand on Ayel with so many cranky Rihannsu at hand was slim. And there would be no honour in dying in a prison riot because of a little backtalk, no mater how many unarmed men you took down. No, no – there would certainly be better days, and ways, to die. Ayel smirked, and Maunn spat again at his feet.
“How should I know? Days maybe. Are you so afraid of what will happen if you go too long without a woman, Romulan? Only you have so few of them to go around… Perhaps you already know – perhaps you’re not worried at all!”
His own anger enflamed him then, and Maunn laughed at his little victory.
“Someday,” he hissed.
“Someday soon, I hope,” the Klingon chortled.
And then T’Lalea was back, with Paren, Aifn, and the handful of other women, barely over ten percent of Narada’s crew. The security chief caught his arm and gave him a stern look.
“I’ve left Illraehi in charge. Keep Nero out of trouble. Keep yourself out of trouble. We’ll be fine.”
Ayel nodded. Elements guide us all.
