Chapter 2.1

Posted on Tue May 3rd, 2022 @ 7:32pm by Minister Zehoi D'ian & Director Esoria sh'Vreshaa

1,026 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Waiting for the End
Location: Cerulean
Timeline: 3189-03-15, 08:30

Zehoi D'ian sat alone in her stateroom aboard the Emerald Chain vessel Cerulean wondering what fate would befall her next. While she and her family had been considered royalty in the Emerald Chain, for her it had been more a prison than life in opulence. The Chain had risen from the ashes of the Burn, quickly overtaking the Federation as the dominant government and oppressing anyone that did not share their universal view. It had taken her a long time to realize that they were not the noble people that they pretended to be and it took one scrappy Andorian to make her see the truth.

She couldn't help but wonder what fate Ryn suffered when they were found. Minister Osyraa had taken a personal interest in finding him and bringing him back to what she considered justice. The only thing that had saved Zehoi from a similar wrath was her noble status. The Chain did not give up on pursuing and retrieving her, but she had a Director after her instead of a full Minister. Then again sh'Vreshaa had never been known for anything other than her own ambition.

The door slid away behind her revealing the master of the Cerulean standing there in the leatherbound uniform of a Chain Director. Zehoi couldn't help but admit that it made the Andorian look good at least, her slender blue form offset by the militaristic leather ensemble. "Minister D'ian," she greeted politely.

"I renounced my title, Esoria, you know that better than any," the Orion woman challenged as she sat in the oversized chair. "Why am I here?"

"I must admit to some surprise that you address me so poorly, Minister," the Andorian woman said walking through the chamber. "After all, my ship and crew risked a great deal to retrieve you from the Federation. I would expect at least a modicum of gratitude." She picked up an apple and bit into it, "Fresh Ktarian apples. Your favorite are they not?"

She looked at the bright apple, the skin completely unblemished and gave serious thought to accepting. Ktarian apples were a rare delicacy in the era of the Burn. While the fruit had migrated to many worlds, the Ktarian homeworld itself had been somewhat lost to history during the devastation. She had tried what the Federation replicators called a Ktarian apple, but it tasted horrible. Even the replicators on Federation One didn't do them justice and it was a ship that served the Federation President.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Do you feel yourself a prisoner on my ship?" The Andorian took another bite of the apple, the juice lightly rolling from the side of her mouth. "Minister, far from it. Do you see forcefields around the portals? Bars on the windows? You're not in the brig, you're in one of our luxury staterooms! I'm not asking for a thank you, but at least a friendly conversation would be welcome."

The Orion signed, "Thank you. Can I go now?"

"You may come and go as you please, Minister," she kept using the title as she motioned toward the door. "The door's unlocked. I just ask where will you go?"

The million bar question. Where would she go? "I suppose I could go anywhere I wished. If what you say about me not being a prisoner is true."

She indicated the door, "Please, be my guest. You may find you don't get far though."

The other shoe dropped. "Alright then, thought I wasn't a prisoner?"

"Oh you aren't. At least not on my ship at the moment at least. Osyraa has ordered your capture and imprisonment, given me permission to treat you however I see fit, though I am not as inclined to be as cruel as she may like me to be. If you help me, answer my questions, well I will be contented to let you just meander around this ship as long as you want to. If you cooperate," she tossed the apple aside.

D'ian sighed, "What do you want?"

"I understand you've spent some time on that Federation ship. Ever since we nearly recovered you at Cold Station 12 you have been on the run with them. I would, first, love to know if it is true that that ship is loaded down with enough dilithium that the Chain could run an entire Sector Block. Second, I want their access codes so that I can track them. And, finally, I want to know what you told them about us. I don't think these are too high a price for your freedom," she said sitting in the opposite chair, a broad smile on her blue lips.

"Are you brain dead, Esoria?" She asked with a loud laugh. "Did you miss their look of surprise when I came with you? Or did you just think it was all for show. Let me just tell you something honestly - they aren't that good of actors. I kept up the ruse long enough to make them think that I was an engineer. Fortunately, as old as their ship was, if I screwed up I could scream it was because their technology was ancient compared to ours."

The Andorian nodded, "Perhaps I am a bit brain dead, or perhaps you were sent here as a threat to this ship? The Federationers did seem to strip CS12 clean before they left. Maybe they want some advanced technology. Are you leading them to this ship? Maybe they are better actors than you claim them to be?"

"Your paranoia betrays your status," Zehoi mumbled.

"And your schemes remind me of your ancestor Melani D'ian. She would do something like this to challenge our resolve," the Captain of the Cerulean rose from her chair. "You know I am here as your friend, we have known each other a long time, and I don't want to see you throw everything away. I will give you one last shred of your dignity, you just have to trust me."

Zehoi looked back at Svian below the ship, "Go back to Osyraa and tell her you got nothing from me."

Esoria noticed her attention to Svian, "We'll see."

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