When You're Strange

Posted on Feb 06, 2015 @ 12:06pm by Selyara Chen

Mission: Limbo

“When you’re strange”

cont. “Conversations in the dark"
* * *=/\=* * *

"People are strange when you're a stranger
Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down." -The Doors
* * *=/\=* * *

Location: LIMBO
Stardate: 2.150129.2003
Scene: The Oblivion District

It’s nice to be wanted, someone once said. But Selyara was feeling a
little TOO wanted recently. Paranoid, isolated, she felt like enemies
lurked in every shadow; Which wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility,
given the involvement of Section 31 and the meteoric rise of Richard
Edgerton.

And now, suddenly, the USS PHOENIX, commanded by one former Captain
Michael Turlough Kane, was heading towards LIMBO after a spectacular
theft of the PHOENIX and an even more spectacular jailbreak. It was
all over Selyara’s information feeds, overloading and drowning out the
other news that Selyara really wanted- word of the next in a string of
seemingly senseless and random killings that would allow her to track
Rawyvin Seth’s hunt. Each killing told her how much longer she could
remain in LIMBO before she had to shed her face and name and flit into
the shadows once again.

Michael Kane, the name caused a sudden bout of nostalgia, and for a
moment she had visions of him as the young man she knew, a white
knight, swooping in to save her from Rawyvin, and riding off with her
into the sunset. It was nice for the moment before reality quickly set
in. During nearly a decade of incarceration Michael Kane had not come
to visit her once, despite those now ancient protestations of love
they had made when they had parted ways.

He was as bad as the rest of them, all the fair-weather friends who
quickly forgot about her as soon as she became inconvenient; all the
family that had abandoned her; Starfleet and the Federation that had
tossed her aside, even though she had sacrificed for them, bled for
them.

If Michael Kane was looking for her on LIMBO, it would not be to
rescue her, it would not be out of sentiment- it would be for his own
gain, his own self interest. He might even be in league with Section
31 and Rawyvin Seth. That would explain his sudden return to duty.
Perhaps section 31 had even thought to use her past relationship with
Kane to get her to come to them quietly like a lamb to the slaughter,
back into a new cage.

She pondered in a detached way that she supposed she ought to feel
sad, hurt, or even that dull ache you’re supposed to feel under your
ribcage when you see someone you used to love, but she felt so
disconnected from the memories of her younger self and, try as she
might, she couldn’t conjure up even a ghost of indignation at the
possibility of Kane’s betrayal.

This bothered her. Once again she felt that odd sense that she’d lost
herself, that she wasn’t sure what parts of her life were real, and
which were carefully concocted as part of a cover. Had she really
loved Kane? It felt so distant that it might as well have been her
current identity’s life on the frontier worlds asteroid hopping with
her family to mine rare minerals for sale in the Triangle.

Stop. Too much introspection was bad, it would paralyze her. Instead,
think of a way out the trap that was slowly reaching out to envelop
her. There must be some way to escape, some way to resolve the
situation in her favor.

She fiddled with the meditation stones in front of her, trying to
balance them on their smooth, rounded edges on the the tabletop as she
pondered her end goal, and how to achieve it. Her mind worked
tirelessly, as time passed without her knowing. She gingerly pulled
her hand away from the last of the meditation stones as they all stood
tall, precariously balanced.

There. There it was.

A Romulan warbird was en-route as well, the best deterrent she could
think of. Rawyvin Seth already had a Romulan bounty on his head, and
as for Kane and the PHOENIX? Well, even if their reasons for being so
close to Romulan space were innocent, the Romulan Commander could
almost certainly be convinced otherwise. Espionage, sabotage, an
advance party for a territory grab, she could make all that seem as
though it were happening.

She just needed some help.

She put out digital lures, fishing in the sea of information, hoping
for a bite. She had information she needed to sell, and somewhere,
someone wanted to buy it.

She scattered the stones again with her hand, and began again.

Her computer beeped, noisily.

“You have information for sale?” A heavily distorted male voice filled
her room. Selyara’s fingers blazed a trail across her interface.

[[I do.]] Selyara was loathe to let her voice or image, even disguised
or distorted, loose on the airways lest her stalker somehow use it to
find her. [[It will be sellable to as many people as you can convince
to pay. It concerns a bounty, a big one, that is coming here.]]

The voice was silent for a moment, and she was nearly scared that he
had lost interest.

“What is the price for this information?” The voice said just as she
had begun to despair.

[[Normally I only deal in information, but for this, I make an
exception,]] Selyara typed. [[The bounty is ‘dead or alive,’ but when
you tell the buyers the terms of the bounty, leave out the ‘alive’
bit.]]

“I deal in information, not misinformation,” The voice on the other
end responded, sounding amused.

[[It is not misinformation, it is omission.]] Selyara’s fingers flew.
The bait had been taken.

“You have a point. Put what you have inside a piece of gold pressed
latinum, and find Rajeed’s shop in the Skyscraper district. There will
be a one eyed beggar there, give him the latinum.”

[[Very well, I will have someone make the drop. Don’t think you can
back out of our agreement. I will know, and I will find a way to let
the bounty know exactly who has been selling him out. Remember:
Dead.]]

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Location: The Sanctum

Harad-Sar looked out across the sanctum, taking in the masses of
people that writhed like a teeming mass of spawning salmon. The stink
of sweat and pheromones assailed his nostrils, repulsive and enticing
at the same time, the smell of sex. It was relaxing in a way, watching
everyone indulge in mindless hedonism. The flesh. The drugs. The
alcohol. All combining into a glorious free for all of unlimited
potential

Across the way he caught a glimps of DaiMon Sneck in a private booth,
surrounded by a gaggle of attractive women, and wealthy associates.

The sight of the small Ferengi soured his stomach. That sneaky little
bastard had made deep cuts into his profits in the last two years,
though mercifully, the Ferengi seemed to be more interested in
tangible pursuits, rather than the buying and selling of information.
He was still ahead of anyone in that arena, although of late he’d
become increasingly aware of a rival in that area.

The Shadow Master. He clenched his fists. How had he not noticed that
sneaky bastard insinuating himself into his very information
infrastructure? The Shadow Master must have been at it for years,
studying Harad-Sar’s informants, the ways he conducted his drops and
how he handled his transactions. Harad-Sar felt the throbbing rage
beginning to break through the heady buzz of the liquor in his glass.

He watched bitterly as the Ferengi stood, his entourage of women
laughing at something he’d said as though he was the most charming,
wittiest being, rather than a wrinkled snaggletoothed dwarf. Harad-Sar
tapped his glass, demanding another drink from the bartender. When he
turned back, DaiMon Snek was gone.

At least he wouldn’t have to look at the fucker all night and have him
spoiling what remained of his good mood.

A sudden movement nearby drew his attention as a tall Romulan woman
dressed in just enough clothing to be enticing instead of trashy
caught her mile high heels on a crack in the black marble floor. She
pitched forward towards him, and he put an arm out to catch her by the
elbow. She looked up at him fetchingly from under long dark
eyelashes, and he had the sudden desire, almost a compulsion, to get
to know her better. He used her forward momentum to swing her onto the
barstool next to him, she let out a delightful feminine giggle that he
found quite charming, and flipped the ends of her chin length bob.

“Well, since you’ve rescued me from making an idiot of myself and
ruining my dress, I have to insist that you let me buy you a drink. My
name’s Aella Navarron,” she said breathlessly, as if still frightened
by her near fall. “What’s your poison?”

“Antarean brandy. Harad-Sar.” He said, pushing his glass towards the
bartender. She clapped her hands, laughing again. There was something
familiar about her.

“Finally, a real drink! I’ve been stuck drinking black holes all
night,” she made a moue of dismay to convey her opinion of the Ferengi
cocktail as she yelled over the music. The pieces fell into place.

“You, you were with DaiMon Snek. Did he send you over to spy on me?
Try to get me to tell you my secrets?” He grabbed her arm roughly, and
she squirmed, making a noise of pain.

“No!” She prised his grip open with a sudden display of Romulan
strength. “I didn’t leave with him because I was bored with him, and
I’ve stayed because I’m intrigued by you.”

She ran the tip of her shoe suggestively up his calf.

“Are you gold digger or a whore?” He sneered, she gave him an
indignant, but slightly bored look and withdrew her foot.

“Neither, although I will admit DaiMon Snek’s main attractions is his
extremely well endowed… Bank account. But I do admire his
ruthlessness.” She brushed her fingers across her throat and tossed
him another flirtatious look. “But of course, a girl has needs that
are more important than money.”

“And that’s where I come in?” He leered, allowing one hand to creep up
her inner thigh. He had his harem back in his quarters, but of course,
fresh, novel flesh was always appreciated. She playfully swatted his
hand away in a way that suggested that he might not be rebuffed if he
tried a second time.

“Hold your denebian slime devils, handsome. I haven’t decided if I’m
THAT interested yet, and I still haven’t had a REAL drink tonight.”

* * * =/\=* * *

Time Index: Several hours later.

“Anna course Snek doesn’t understand the importance of intelligence.”
Aella bitched at him. She was quite tipsy, and Harad-Sar was beginning
to get bored, wondering exactly how much longer he’d have to pretend
to be interested in order for her to go to bed with him. “He thinks
I’m jussa bitta arm candy. I have some primom- premium intelligence,
and he don’ even wanna hear it. Issn’t in his business plan to broker
information, he says. Issn’t a way to keep information from spreadin’
once you sell it.”

“Oh did he?” Harad-Sar was suddenly infinitely more interested in what
she had to say. He playfully grabbed her around her waist and pulled
her closer. “Well he doesn’t know what he’s missing, information makes
the world go round. And as for me, I appreciate a woman with
intelligence.”

“That’s what I told him!” She relaxed languidly into his arms. “An’ I
mean, the fact that there’s an experimental Federation dreadnought
called the USS PHOENIX making it’s way straight for us, that’s gotta
be worth loads and loads of money to the right people. Hell, oughtta
get a medal from Tella Yavin, only there’s no way she’d ever let me in
to tell her.”

She stiffened, and her hand flew up to her mouth as she realized she’d
spilled her premium information for free. She looked so dispirited
that Harad-Sar laughed.

“It certainly will.” He stood. “I think I might be just the man to
tell her. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get something nice out of
this. In the meantime, keep your pretty little ears open for any more
information you can find, especially any dirt on Snek, and I’ll make
it worth your while.”

“But…” Her nails scraped gently down his bicep, and she bit her lip in
frustration.

“Hurry back to DaiMon Snek, and don’t worry about those other needs of
yours. I’ll be back to see that you’re taken care of.” He swatted her
on the ass and walked away, a new spring in his step.

* * *=/\=* * *

Time Index: A few moments later.

Selyara stood, letting the contempt she felt flit across her face.
People were all too easy to manipulate once you knew how. She’d barely
even needed to make use of her abilities once she’d figured out what
made Harad-Sar tick. It gave her great satisfaction to be the
manipulator, in control of the situation, rather than the hapless
pawn.

The pieces were beginning to fall into place neatly. If she played
this game right, she might be able to convince Tella Yavin that the
PHOENIX was really an advance party for a territory grab in the
Triangle. That would put Michael Turlough Kane out of the picture, and
all she would have to deal with was Rawyvin Seth.

The very thought of him made her shudder with revulsion and the bile
rise in her throat with fear.

“Please. Please let them kill him. Professional assassins and bounty
hunters- even he isn’t invincible.” She whispered to no-one in
particular.
* * *=/\=* * *

NRPG: Just a short one, since I'm getting back into the swing of
things, and Selyara is kinda... Well... In LIMBO plot wise ;)

I'll work on a Kassandra one this weekend. Can't wait to get this
party started!!!

Alix Fowler
The power behind the keyboard for

Selyara Chen
Amoral sociopath with abandonment issues, and a dangerous amount of information
Currently Aella Navarron of LIMBO.