Face to Face

Posted on Sat Jul 31st, 2021 @ 8:31pm by Lieutenant Timmoz

Mission: The Place of Skulls
Location: Canamar Prison
Timeline: Mission Day 16 at 0800

[Canamar Prison]
[Canamar Star System]
[Ultramax Detention Facility 1516.6]
[0800 Hours Local Time]

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Timmoz did so when he heard- almost felt- the thumb pushing into the access plate. "Two minutes," the guard said with an edge. Timmoz raised a brow and briefly studied the- to him- unflattering facial swirls of the Enolian, and how it over-emphasized their cheeks into something uncanny valley. Timmoz nodded once and stepped inside. The room was deep, deep underground. Timmoz hadn't been able to get an exact depth but the turbolift ride down had lasted well into three minutes. And it felt faster than a Federation turbolift. He put the depth- likely- in the realm of kilometers, not meters. Almost certainly heavily shielded too, to prevent transporters even from the rest of the prison compound. Such was the paranoia of the Enolian penal authority.

And to be sure there were no windows. There was just a hallway- and the irksome feeling of authority's sousveillance watching him from sensors and cameras. The hallway was short and had only three doors. Timmoz reached the first, turned, and waited. The Overlords of Canamar, ever-watchful, unlocked the door for him. It hissed open when he pulled on it.

Inside the room was bathed in blue-white. It was virtually featureless- but not in the crisp and new Federation way. It felt more like a mental hospital. The walls were padding and white. The floor was a solid expanse. Nothing indicated where food and drink came out. No indication of where one could sleep or relieve oneself. That was when it occurred to Timmoz that this wasn't her cell. It was a controllable public zone.

She stood at the center. Her hair, like Timmoz's was a full, magnificent frizz once- but it had been shaved off. She looked naked and bereft. Timmoz's hearts leapt into his throat at just how bereft: none of her jewels, none of her armlets, none of her Tholian silks. And she did not smell like his mother- they must have been forcing her to take pheromonal inhibitors. All she wore was a plain white, short-sleeved t-shirt and plain white pants. Vaina had never liked white.

Like her child, Vaina Bilati was fine-boned and built like the tall, slender Botchoki. But she had more feminine curves.

She stared at him, her eyes not on his face, but his uniform.

"I'd hoped it wasn't true. I see it is." She said plainly. "I never thought I would see your face again."

"As you can see, I'm alive," Timmoz countered with an eyebrow raise. he folded his lanky arms across his uniformed chest. "I am sorry to disappoint you, Qadi," he smiled in a Cluros way, like he was bemused. "The uniform itches... but I'm alive."

"Do not call me Qadi wearing that V'draysh leash, Te’imouzh. You are a traitor to your Qaj." She sneered cooly, her own Cluros smile bending. "It would have been better if you'd killed yourself, than betray us all." She spit at his feet- a glob of clear landed on his toes. "Did you bring your chukaree? You can do it now and save your honor."

Timmoz smirked. "I wouldn't give you the pleasure of watching me die."

She eyed him with pure pity, a sneer of something disgusting and so offensively weak, she could barely stand the presence of it. "That's a pity. You could have at least brought you chukaree and ended my dishonor of keeping you alive. Finding me here."

"Get used to your disappointment," Timmoz countered with a smiling glower. "I am alive... despite what you wanted... and soon, all you'll ever know is Zenite mining." He paced and drummed fingers into his elbow nook, "They took your suicide tooth didn't they." He raised a brow. "That's unfortunate."

Vaina smirked. "You stupid boy. You have no idea what you've done."

Timmoz raised a brow. "I've brought you down. I've had my revenge. I'm not dead. Your weak, softhearted boy is the one standing and free. Tezred is in Rango. Too bad it is not Nimruc... that steroidal bastard. He is out there, but for how long?"

Vaina scowled as the door opened. "Your time is up," that grating Enolian accent echoed. Timmoz turned to walk away.

"You speak of designs to kill you? Stupid boy. I never designed your death, fool. You stole my shuttle and ran to the V'draysh. Because you are weak!" She said to Timmoz's back. He paused for only a moment, set his jaw, and followed the Enolian guard out.

When the door latched at the guard's command, Timmoz's fist flexed in and out of tension. He finally punched the wall, feel his wrist buckle and throbbing agony wreck through his knuckles and fingers. Revenge hadn't felt nearly as sweet as he'd expected it to.

A Post By:

Lieutenant Timmoz
Protected Personnel on Leave
Starfleet Office of the Judge Advocate GeneralLieutenant Timmoz