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82808 - The Heresiarch
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| Name: | The Heresiarch |
| RL Date: | May 14, 2009 |
| Players: | Ian Sturmvogel, Balar Adell, Maera Tainer, Hymn Evensong, The Heresiarch, Vena Del |
| Location: | Qvarne IV |
| IC Date: | Stardate 82808 |
Cafe du Monde <Burrough 08> [Qvarne IV]
The Cafe du Monde is a handsome structure with many French influences. While it is an interior restaurant, the tall arches which surround the structure are open to Haven Street and the cafe gardens. The floor is paneled in brushed, copper plating and leafy vines climb around the arch pilings and up the walls. Two dozen tables of various sizes are on the main floor, although few are large enough to accomodate a group larger than six. Waitstaff are friendly and attentive to patrons, busily moving about. The establishment is filled with the scent of coffees and pastries, as well as the subtle floral scent from the gardens.
== Players =----------------== == Doors =-----------------==
"Ian Sturmvogel" ]O[ Haven St.
"Balar Adell"
Ian Sturmvogel steps into the Cafe, and looks around momentarily, before walking over to where Balar is seated. He has a tight smirk on his face. "Doctor, good evening."
Balar Adell
Her hair is a very soft blonde, with hints of platinum in the right sort of light. She wears it long, reaching below her shoulders and almost to the middle of her back. Her eyebrows are thin and clear and the eyes below are soft and youthful. Her irises are a very deep green, with hints of blue around the pupil. A half dozen ridges move down from between her eyes and onto the bridge of her cute nose. Her lips are full and pink, glossed over with a cosmetic product. The complexion of her skin is one of someone who enjoys the sun, and her body is athletic.
Over her body she wears a uniform whose most discerning feature is its pale gray color. The upper portion of the uniform is a form-fitting, wrap-around jacket, with chrome clasps along the right. It is pleated down her chest and cinched at her waist by a simple, black leather belt with a silver buckle. A starched collar with a square-cut opening in the front stands around her neck, embellished with golden piping.
The upper portion of her slacks is hidden beneath her jacket, which trails down just below her buttocks. The slacks are as pale gray as the jacket and contour to the shape of her legs. Golden piping runs down the hem of both pant-legs. The pants have been tucked into a pair of knee-high, tight-fitting and heavily-polished combat boots with thick soles and reinforced toes. The sound they produce when she moves is a dull thump.
The only visible insignia on the uniform is the communicator worn over her left breast.
Inventory: = A PADD is worn at her belt. = A Communicator (5520) is worn on her jacket. She is charming.
Balar Adell is seated at a small table near an archway leading into the gardens outside the cafe. She has already ordered a coffee, which sits steaming on the table in front of her. At the approach of Ian, she turns her head and smiles. "Hello there," she says. "Glad to see you amongst the fascists." She winks.
Ian Sturmvogel sighs and shakes his head, smiling in an such a way as to convey a small bit of embrassment. "May I have a seat, mein fraulein?"
Balar Adell motions to a chair across from her. "Of course, please." She sits back in her chair, still smiling. "I recommend the cafe au lait and, if you're up to a massive quantity of carbohydrates, a beignet."
Ian Sturmvogel smiles. "Just like the actual one, in New Orleans." Ian looks around... "... and I must say, this place certainly does have the feel of New Orleans... like something sacred yet ancient, and perhaps evil is about to slink its way out of the sewers... I love it." Ian flags down a passing waiter. "I will take the lady's recommendation: Cafe au lait and beignets." Turning back to Balar, "And, how are things here, now that you've been 'recalled to life,' so to speak? Will you be able to continue your studies?"
Balar Adell blows on her coffee before taking a sip. "Oh, certainly. Prosper Group is fairly casual when you're medical, helps when you direct medicine for the entire fleet too; delegation is a wonderful thing," she smiles. "At the moment, though, I'm pretty much in-between research projects."
Ian Sturmvogel nods, "Besides rebuilding your ranks and whatnot." Ian hesitates for a moment. "I was quite insensitive the other night, regarding your adopted home. My sincerest apologies... I should know very well what the Kzinti are capable of, bastard race that they are. At least there are those of us who choose to fight for what they believe in, rather than wait for the end to come in a mire of bureaucracy, like the Federation."
Balar Adell shakes her head, dismissing the apology with a wave of her coffee cup. "You're entitled, and I understand your opinion of this place and these people. The governments which liked them most in the past are the governments we've mostly been glaring at our whole lives." She sets her coffee back down and folds her hands in her lap. "How is your operation in the Delta Quadrant progressing? Qvarne's mostly pulled out. As long as the Hirogen and Borg are not attacking ships within sensor range of Arx Caelis or opening direct hostilities against New Neresia, the fleet stationed there is letting them pass unharmed."
Ian Sturmvogel shakes his head. "And therein lies the issue. The Hirogen and the Borg represent an affront to civilization as we know it. What have you gained if all other Delta Qudrant colonies are destroyed or abandoned, only to leave the Qvarne colonies of the Delta Quadrant, easy pickings for any assult that may come? In my opinion, and I quote a Terran politician, we must hang together, or surely we will hang separately."
Balar Adell strums her fingers against the surface of the table, eyeing you and biting her lip hesitantly. "I agree," she eventually responds. "Are you aware of the destruction of the SS Kilgannon, near Organia?"
"I've heard rumors," Ian says in a low voice. "Nothing more." His silence afterwards indicates a desire to know of what Balar speaks.
Balar Adell leans slightly toward Ian, her voice low. "The Kilgannon was carrying something... someone, I suppose, is the more polite term. It isn't what caused the destruction, we believe that was the ion storm in the Sol system, but when the ship was destroyed it was... activated." She bites her lip again, "You know Hymn, of course, Hymn Evensong."
Ian Sturmvogel listens intently, and then nods to Balar. "Of course, of course I know her. How is she involved in this?"
Balar Adell chews on her lip for a long moment. "There is another Qvarni android," she says. "I don't know the full of the story, except the end, when the other is locked away in stasis. Suffice it to say, that other android... the Heresiarch... she was what was activated."
Ian Sturmvogel closes his eye, and repeats the name 'Heresiarch' silently, on his lips. He opens his eye... "And how does it differ from Evensong." A statement, really, from Ian, because he can probably guess at the difference.
Balar Adell says, "Imagine Hymn as though she never longed to find the spiritual aspect of the universe, if she never had reverence for life, if her entire motivation was herself. Hymn wasn't programmed to be what she is now, she grew to become that. She built bodies to better suit her altruism. Heresiarch built one body, more advanced and more terrible than anything of which Hymn could conceive." She looks at her coffee, "Which is the only reason Heresiarch was kept in stasis rather than destroyed, to allow Hymn to reverse engineer the Heresiarch avatar."
"I'm sure that Hymn also felt a certain kinship... a desire to save her wayward sister," says Ian, staring into his cold cafe au lait. He looks up, "And wouldn't you? If you had the depth of reverance, of altruism, that Hymn does, wouldn't you want to repair what could be fixed... do all that is possible?"
Balar Adell nods a bit, sitting back. "That might also be the case, but she was silent during the conference yesterday," she responds.
Ian Sturmvogel crosses his legs, "And if I may ask, what was the outcome of the conference? What was the decision of the group?"
Balar Adell says, "All naval forces have been recalled to Aethermourne, except for what is necessary to protect the colonies. We aren't sure what she will do, and, after the Kilgannon was destroyed, we have no idea where she is now."
"You say that Hymn was silent," Ian says, almost absently. "Do we know her intentions in this matter?"
Balar Adell says, "I can't say for certain, at a certain point the meeting become essential Directorate only. Medical doesn't fall into that consideration."
Ian Sturmvogel speaks in a terse manner, "For the several years I have known Hymn, she has been kind, generous, warm, helpful... but this 'Heresiarch,' I mean, this is Hymn's sister, essentially. Good or evil, Hymn's thoughts on this matter could be all over the range. I mean, I beleive that Hymn will maintain her nature. But - do we know this for certain? Have you spoken to Hymn personally about this?"
Balar Adell shakes her head. "No, I haven't."
Ian Sturmvogel bites his lip and nods. "Is there reason to beleive that the Heresiarch avatar has changed her form, that is, to blend in with her surroundings? That is, if the android is still in existance."
Balar Adell says, "Her avatar was salvaged with the survivor, unbeknownst to their saviors."
Ian Sturmvogel leans in across the table, looking Balar directly in the eyes with his only remaining eye. A single word forms on his lips: "Who."
Balar Adell cants her head to the side. "The BOAT."
Ian Sturmvogel laughs out loud, but only once. "You're shitting me. You're absolutely shitting me." Ian shakes his head, and leans back, hands behind his head. "Hewn-Bentley and his... Order of Blake? Noble Word of Blake? Whatever. This mess with the Khamae. What a nightmare, what a total nightmare." Ian seems almost incredulous at the turn of events today. Still chuckling, Ian takes a sip of his drinks, before quickly taking it away from his lips. "Goddamn it." He turns around a flags down a waiter. "Just heat this up for me." He gingerly hands the cup and saucer to the passing waiter before turning back to Balar. "Hewn-Bentley has recently been a thorn in my side. The Romulans had contracted us to protect the Khamae, but then the Kiith was attacked and killed. And who rushes in once more? Hewn-Bentley. And now, I've just spoken to Starfleet today... as you could have guessed, their hands are tied. Whatever."
Balar Adell says, "Hewn-Bentley had no idea what he got himself into. Heresiarch is..." she closes her eyes, searching her mind for the right words. "Well, she's quintessential Qvarni and Hewn-Bentley is obsessed with our culture. According to Eve he thinks we're some sort of benchmark for the way people are supposed to be, that we're closer to all things divine and ethereal. I don't know if Heresiarch ever showed herself to him before she left his ship, but if he did, he was probably too enamored."
Ian Sturmvogel nods. "Well, we all want what we can't have, I suppose." Ian smiles and takes a drink of his now-warm cafe au lait. "Now then, what actions has Qvarne / Propser taken to retrieve Heresiarch? Or do they wish to let the Federation find out of their own accord? Because I'll tell you... no one in Starfleet has /any/ clue as to what is really going on here."
Balar Adell says, "Heresiarch would not remain in Federation space. She knows what Federation Security can do, Prosper has Faustuses, and the old models, the ones that can cloak, out in force along the Federation border, waiting for her to come near Qvarne."
"So you think she will return here, to Qvarne," Ian states. "Any theories on what she'll try to do then? I mean, if what you say is true, her thoughts, her plans may be focused on chaos... change..."
Balar Adell shakes her head. "Dee won't let her get this far. No matter what Heresiarch can do, Dee can and will stop her. Just as she did with Oriole, and the first Kzinti/Gorn scout group." She sighs, "New Neresia is safe, the Unity wouldn't let her pass through to the Delta Quadrant. But we aren't so secure about Aethermourne, it's only a few parsecs off of the Federation border."
Ian Sturmvogel nods. "Then we potentially know where she's going." Ian hesitates. "My concern is more than that though. What if she is seeking a wild-card... a game-changer. A way to upset the balance in the quadrant. Then, there's more to it then just the return of a prodigal android. This is a very dangerous situation."
Balar Adell nods. "Aethermourne is our primary shipyard. It can build both the Colossus- and Megalith-class dreadnaughts. The new Architect of Victory, the one that's ten kilometers long and whose turret cannons are as long as standard Federation nacelles? That's a Colossus. If Heresiarch gains control of that colony, she can build a fleet bigger than Slade Wilson's and upload copies of herself into each of them."
Ian Sturmvogel shakes his head. "That would severely upset the balance." Ian leans in. "I do not have much to offer... but obviously as a non-governmental organization, I have certain freedoms that neither Prosper or any other government has. I already have a vested interest in this, as the Shiar was the one who contacted me to help retrieve the Khamae, and Hewn-Bentley stepped in the middle of that."
<BFN|Bajor> S2S Relay (BOAT): We will be making our way through the Celestial Temple. Do have a pleasant day.
Ian Sturmvogel checks his commbadge. "BOAT just announced they are heading into the Gamma Quadrant."
Balar Adell nods, smiling a bit. "I'll let Admiral Tainer know that you're interested in assisting us..." She frowns slightly, "Sorry to make your trip more business than anything else."
Ian Sturmvogel smiles. "Well, maybe I have something to offer you in a form of support. Quit Prosper. Join us. I can give you your own ship, freedom to investigate any side-ventures that you may have." Ian shrugs. "Once you've completed your investigations, you can return to Prosper. And we need a good doctor."
Balar Adell frowns again. "I don't know, Ian. I don't have any aspirations to command a ship of my own. I certainly don't want to hurt anyone, even if the targets are murderers and Borg." She shakes her head, "It just isn't me. And for me to leave just when things here could get extremely bad? When they may need all the doctors they can get? I'm not a vole, I won't jump ship. Not after what they've done for me."
Ian Sturmvogel nods thoughtfully. "I understand... the Bajorans have helped me tremendously, and I do feel a certain gratitude for them, even if now I am running somewhat counter to their diplmatic goals." He smiles a little. "We are on the same side here. But this threat you tell me of... it's not business... it is a great threat to everything we hold dear... a threat certainly to the Quadrant, possibly more than that. We need to make certain that this threat is neutralized." Ian thinks a moment more, smiling once again, wider this time. "As for wishing this were not business... which is more important in the grand scheme of things, working to stop a threat to the galaxy, or two people sipping cafe au laits in a corner cafe?"
Balar Adell pushes a stray lock from her face and sips her coffee, despite it being room temperature. "In my small universe, it is the little things that matter most," she remarks.
Ian Sturmvogel half-smiles to Balar, "Adell... we've known each other for a while... but I never understood why you left the Bajorans. What happened there that you had to leave?"
Balar Adell says, "Other than a government which has been provisional for forty years and answerable to an assembly of people who use the populace's general reverence for beings which live within the local wormhole as a device for control? I'm not a religious person, I wouldn't call myself spiritual, either. A theocracy, and we shouldn't kid ourselves that isn't; no one bothered to prosecute the terrorists which mutilated and killed members of the Church of Kae movement."
Ian Sturmvogel squints his remaining eye... "Church of Kae? That information must have been surpressed... I haven't heard of any record of that." Ian's tone is inquisitive.
Balar Adell says, "A few years ago, members of the Church of Kae, including Gaia Thrace, boarded a transport which then promptly exploded. It killed members of that delegation as well as many innocent bystanders in the spaceport. Were Gaia Thrace not Tyrixx herself, she would have likely died."
Ian Sturmvogel bites his lip. "I... I didn't know. If I had known, I would have made an official inquiry." There seems to be something else on Ian's mind. "This isn't the first time I have found roadblocks within the Bajoran leadership. I tried my best to make a difference... no matter now. I finally have my chance to do something right." He looks up, "Nonetheless, I will be honest, the Qvarni do not have the greatest reputation either. Half of the galaxy beleives that they are going to march over their homeworld in an orgy of bloody conquest. Protectionist or not, that's the truth of the matter. Insular... protective... their nature breeds distrust."
Balar Adell says, "It seems a silly belief, considering the Qvarni have never marched across a single world, nor engaged in hostilities when it was unwarranted. We pulled out of the Syndicate campaign as soon as we entered; especially after the Kzinti and Gorn attacked Gamora and abducted tens of thousands. Half of the galaxy, though, should fear that particular turn of events however. Because half of the galaxy has shown, on many occasions, that they will not respect the laws or sovereignty of Qvarne, nor the fundamental rights of sentient beings. The Confederacy, the Hegemony, et cetera... they test the boundaries of patience, and Qvarne will have none of it. With respect to the less-threatening nations, such as the Federation, the Shiar, the Union, the Empire, et cetera... Qvarne has been at a lasting peace with each of them, has never attacked any of them, and has willingly aided them in their wars against those who have shown themselves to be nothing but inimical to galactic peace."
Balar Adell says, "Prior to the Kzinti Occupation, Qvarne had more formal allies than any other nation. The Union, the Empire, the Federation, the Shiar, all of the independent nations. And despite the hostilities engaged between those allies, not a single one uttered distrust of Qvarne, or distaste of its neutrality in their conflicts. They understood our position, which seems so utterly inconceivable considering the ways in which they treat their other allies. Whether the average individual trusts Qvarne or not is one thing, but in a galactic sense, we are the only nation everyone trusts to be righteous and just in our decisions. We will tell you when you are in the wrong, and we will tell you when you are in the right. But we do not go to war over border infractions like the Shiar, we do not take to the battlefield over personal slights like the Empire, we simply respond when our existence is threatened."
Ian Sturmvogel nods in agreement, "I am not telling you the facts... as you stated them they are true. I'm telling you their /fears/, which is so very important now, especially with a rogue Qvarni android on the loose. What if one of these so-called peaceful powers sees this as a prelude to an invasion?" Ian shakes his head. "This cannot happen, Adell. We cannot let this happen, for their sakes, of for the sake of Prosper." Hesitating for a moment, "A silly sentiment as well, but I'd rather not see you in danger, either." Ian smiles and uncrosses his legs, both feet firmly planted on the ground. "So, these are my concerns. First of all, this fellow Hewn-Bentley may have come across Heresiarch, but my hunch is that he is no longer in possession of her. The KK Khamae, however, was clamped tight on DS9. Somehow, without any Bajoran intervention, those clamps were undone, and the Khamae went free, seemingly of her own accord. My guess is that Heresiarch was on that ship. Some answers from Hewn-Bentley would be nice, but the Khamae will give us more answers in the short run, in my opinion. And time is a luxury we do not have... not to be overly melodramatic."
Balar Adell frowns, sipping the remnants of her coffee. "We have reason to believe that Heresiarch left BOAT two nights ago," she responds.
Ian Sturmvogel nods. "Confirming that she is on Khamae now." Ian pauses, but continues. "What has given you reason to believe this?"
Balar Adell says, "One of our freighters was on Organia when BOAT released the Kilgannon's captain. Heresiarch has a specific signature, her internal temperature nearly reaches zero Kelvins."
"Does Evensong's core temperature match this?" Ian asks idly.
Balar Adell shakes her head. "No, not at all. Hymn's core temperature has a range between three hundred ten and three hundred twenty Kelvins."
Ian Sturmvogel smiles, "Intriguing." Ian makes a few notes on his padd. "Obviously there are several people whom I trust in this galaxy who could help in this situation. If it hasn't already been asked, we could contact Secretary Harrington of the Federation for assistance... scanners at all docking and landing platforms can detect thermal signatures; have a body temeprature near absolute zero should be easy to detect." Ian clips his padd back against his belt.
Balar Adell nods. "The problem is that she likely evacuated herself into space."
Ian Sturmvogel bites the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "Of course. Things are never easy, are they. I can still ask Secretary Harrington for his assistance in this matter... and keep it quiet of course. But then it makes meeting Hewn-Bentley more of a priority, to get his take on things." Another pause, followed by a query, "When I do meet him, do I represent Propser in this matter, or would rather keep your name out of it? The same goes with Harrington."
Maera Tainer arrives from the ]O[ Haven St. door. Maera Tainer has arrived.
Balar Adell says, "I think it best if you did leave us out of it, for now. Especially with Hewn-Bentley..."
Ian Sturmvogel is sipping cold cafe au laits with Adell in the shade of a cool spring day at the cafe.
Balar Adell's eyes shift to the person entering the cafe, if only due to the sudden silence of all the other patrons.
Maera Tainer strides into the cafe, and, without stopping, shifts onto a course directly for Adell and Ian.
Ian Sturmvogel turns his head as everyone goes silent and Adell's eyes look behind him. He spies who has just walked in... his eye grows a bit wider at just happens to causally enter the cafe. He imemdiately puts down his tepid drink.
Balar Adell clears her throat and smiles. "Admiral, hello. Have you met Mister Sturmvogel?" She motions across the table.
Ian Sturmvogel stands from his chair. "Admiral... Ian Sturmvogel... an honor to meet you, madam." Ian's demeanor is obviously a bit shocked, a current admiral, one time Imperatrix Mundi of Qvarne, wandering about the local cafe.
Maera Tainer nods slowly to Adell. "Good day, Major," she greets, her voice rough and lacking in the average femininity. Eyes shifting to Ian, "Mister Sturmvogel. I understand you are campaigning against the Hirogen. Is it going well?"
Balar Adell remains silent, watching the exchange.
Ian Sturmvogel half-smiles quickly, but tersely. "The fight... is neverending. One of our pilots was killed recently, and I am having trouble finding replacements. Nonethless, we continue to do our part to assist the traders and the colonists against the Hirogen scourge."
Balar Adell's hand abruptly moves to her ear.
As does Maera's.
Maera Tainer says, "Where." to nobody in particular.
Ian Sturmvogel arches an eyebrow, silently watching the two women. He knows better than to interrupt.
Balar Adell looks from Maera to Ian, wild-eyed, then back again. "I thought the consensus was that she wouldn't come here," she whispers frantically.
Ian's eye twitches once. He looks left to right, so as to cover for the women in case something untoward occurs. Ah, but he left his weapons at home. Natch.
"Apparently, you were WRONG."
The sound of glass shattering comes from the streets, then a cacophony of screaming.
Maera Tainer bolts out the door without pause.
Maera Tainer leaves through the ]O[ Haven St. door.
Maera Tainer has left.
Ian Sturmvogel attempts to screen Balar from the flying glass. "Dammit to hell. Let's get out of this cafe."
Balar Adell stands up so abruptly her chair falls back.
Balar Adell looks panicked. "Where?!"
"Megaera! Where are your wings? I so looked forward to clipping them from you!"
Ian Sturmvogel points out into the street. "We've got to do something here, doctor! Let's go!"
Ian Sturmvogel makes a run for the door, glass crunching under his feet.
"How disappointed you must be, Eich."
Haven Street Northwest <Burrough 08> [Qvarne IV]
This is a wide, clean avenue for pedestrians, constructed of glossy metal slabs. Pristine, mirror-finished buildings rise from the surface toward the skies above, constructed in a similar, modern architecture. Sunlight falls from above, and although the view of the sky is clear and open, occasionally one will spot a seam that crosses it, indicating the street is enclosed. Art deco streetlamps have been installed at regular intervals, upon which dark teal banners are hung.
== Players =----------------== == Buildings =-------------==
"Ian Sturmvogel" ]1[ Belle Auberge
"Maera Tainer" ]2[ Cafe du Monde
The "Heresiarch"
== Directions =------------==
/CW\ Haven St. North
/CC\ Haven St. West
Balar Adell arrives from the ]2[ Cafe du Monde door. Balar Adell has arrived.
Heresiarch
A tall, slender, feminine figure whose entire body appears to be a single, flowing piece of glossy black metal. Her head is smooth, without hair or some facsimile thereof. Her facial features are subtle; her supraorbital tori and nose gracile to near extinction. A pair of brilliant sapphire eyes flouresce from within, sinewy tufts of vapor licking their upper extremities. It is unclear whether or not she has auditory senses as she has no ears of which to speak.
Her neck is delicate and long, its features toned and rigid, sweeping outward, creating her shoulders. Her bust is subdued, breasts small and otherwise featureless. A lack of areolae indicates that she is not mammalian. She is svelte, her torso and abdomen coming together in the shape of an hourglass. Her back is simple, displaying the dip of her vertebrae and stylized, hard-lined scapulae.
Her arms are long and toned, the upper portion snaked with what could be described as glowing, opalescent tattoos. Her forearms are bare, however, leading to hands with long, four jointed digits. Her legs give the impression of great musculature, toned and rigid. Upon her outer thighs, tribal symbols glow with the same opalescence as her upper arms. Like her forearms, her lower legs are bare, ending in feet that present no definition save for ankles.
Inventory: = A streamlined Wrist Computer (3883) (equipped) is around her left wrist. = A Communicator (12111) is affixed above her left breast.
She excites an interest in you.
People are fleeing, en masse, down the street, although many are trapped, huddled beneath kiosks or peering out of nearby shops and offices.
Ian Sturmvogel runs outside, and sees the confrontation between Tainer and Heresiarch. Ian stands still, exposed, watching the two of them.
Heresiarch stands in the midst of the chaos, in a stance that invites confrontation.
Maera Tainer is merely a few meters away, glaring at the gynoid.
Balar Adell screams in shock at the sight of Heresiarch so nearby and nearly falls over.
Heresiarch says, "I see you've pandered to the Unity," as her head swivels to take in her surroundings. "Did my warnings mean nothing to you? There is no Unity."
Ian Sturmvogel is shocked out of non-movement by the slight noise given from Balar... he runs over to her, pulling her off to the side and behind a fallen kiosk as Admiral Tainer stands mere meters from the android abhorrance.
Heresiarch says, "Only dischord."
Maera Tainer, still glaring, says, "Your warnings meant as much to us as you ever did, Eich."
Balar Adell shakes violently as she moves into an upright fetal position behind the kiosk.
Ian Sturmvogel feels more than sees Balar shaking... holding her tightly, he says "shhh" quietly, putting two fingers to her lips. Ian attempts to peer aroudn the Kiosk to see what is happening between Tainer and Heresiarch.
Heresiarch's eyes become ever brighter. "Liar," she screams and in a blur of motion, she rips a street lamp from the sidewalk and throws it at Maera.
Maera Tainer dodges most of the street lamp, but the light source makes contact with her upper right arm. Her scream of agony is barely high enough to drown out the sound of her humerus shattering.
Heresiarch approaches Maera with calm, slow, deliberate determination.
Balar Adell starts sobbing uncontrollably, gripping her face.
Ian Sturmvogel wide-eyed, Ian watches the whole incident, blinking slightly with the act of swinging the lamp post down on Tainer. With perhaps more guts than intelligence, Ian runs out into the scene. His goal is obvious: an attempt to pull Tainer away from the slowly-closing android.
Heresiarch cants her head to the side and aws, "Precious. I never thought you would find a man, Maera. Bra-va. Too bad he's cheating on you with the chick behind door number three." She points a finger at the kiosk hiding Adell and, with a flick, flings it into the side of the nearest building. Another finger point to Adell, a come hither gesture, and the girl flies into her waiting hand. She holds her up by the scruff of her neck. "Hello, dear. As the Unity says."
Balar Adell flies into Heresiarch's outstretched arm, screaming.
Maera Tainer's eyes couldn't glare at Heresiarch any harder. "Let go of the bitch, Heresiarch, I'm who you want."
Ah yes. Ian remembers it well from his academy days - the Kobayashi Maru test. The no-win situation. Cited by his instructor as having a 'lack of compassion' demonstrated during the exam, Ian went back and reviewed his actions thoughtfully. He did everything by the book, he thought... he maintained the peace while the Kobayashi Maru was destroyed by the advancing enemy. After all, wasn't the Greater Good more important than small details? The decision has played over again and again in his mind, in every action he has performed since then. What of the Greater Good? What of the Cosmic Balance? And now... here he is faced with the same decision: An Admiral in the Prosper-Qvarne military-industrial complex, a past Imperitrix Mundi of Qvarne, a Very Important Person indeed... or a mere Doctor, a friend, perhaps something of a confidant... her words echoing in his mind: "In my small universe, it is the little things that matter the most." His run becoming mroe heated, he runs again across the battered streetscape, his soles bleeding from broken glass, stopping finally between the Admrial and the android standing before him. Defiantly, he says in a loud booming voice, "LET HER GO!" his voice a mixture between a plaintive plea and a command. He knows inside he probably was too late, probably made the wrong choice, but he says it again anyway.... "Please... let her go...."
Balar Adell struggles, swinging herself from side to side to slip Heresiarch's grip.
Ian Sturmvogel watching her struggle, Ian runs forward in a last desparate attempt to release her from Heresiarch's grip.
Heresiarch ignores Tainer, a mouth appearing on her features, smiling, flourescing. "I don't recognize you, dear. You do realize Qvarne is a dynastic culture, correct? That means, if you aren't a Del, I don't care who you are." She turns her smile to Ian, "Does it feel good that someone does?" Smile back to Adell, "Is that fun? The swinging? Let me give you a push." Her arm shakes, rapidly, sending Adell into a blur of motion. After less than two seconds of that, she drops the Bajoran to the street.
Balar Adell collapses to the street, finally silent, her head turned unnaturally, her wide eyes bloodshot.
Heresiarch nudges Adell with her foot and then looks at Ian, extending her lower lip in a pout. "Why doesn't she play anymore?"
Ian Sturmvogel screaming, "NOOOOOO!!!!!" Ian runs to Adell, finally next to her, over her, looking for any sign of life. His head turned upward to Heresiarch he screams at it... "You bitch! BITCH!!! You EVER-FUCKING BITCH, GOD DAMN YOU."
Heresiarch's mouth recedes back into her face. "Would you prefer I did that to your... ex-wife? Let me know when I'm done here, I can help you with that. You're obviously not a Qvarner, you don't dress the part, and you fight back. Qvarni like to hide, waiting for good ol' Megaera to help them out." She looks at the squirming Maera, "Pretty pathetic. You don't strike me as a Megaera, Maera."
"Do I strike you as a Tisiphone?"
Hymn Evensong arrives from the /CW\ Haven St. North exit. Hymn Evensong has arrived.
Heresiarch whirls around, gracefully, the smile back on her face.
Ian Sturmvogel turns his head as Hymn appears from the other end of the street. Still shivering slightly from the range of emotion... the fear, the hatred, the shock, he pulls Balar slowly from where she is lying, dead, and away from Heresiarch. Ian grits his teeth, his face sweat-stained, and moaning slightly from his loss. He is mumbling something unconsciously on his lips... "I'm sorry, oh Adell, I am so sorry..."
Hymn Evensong
Her alabaster skin is simply immaculate, without a flaw and smooth to both sight and touch. She is approximately six and a half feet tall and her body is very toned, in an athletic sense. She has slender hands and feet and considering the way in which she carries herself, one might wonder if she ever dances. Her eyes are of the most brilliant emerald and give the impression of patience and intelligence. A long mane of sunflower blonde hair cascades over her shoulders and down her back completely unimpeded and ethereally.
Over her body she wears a uniform whose most discerning feature is its black color. The upper portion of the uniform is a form-fitting, wrap-around jacket, with silver clasps along the right. It is pleated down her chest and cinched at her waist by a simple, black leather belt with a silver buckle. A starched collar with a square-cut opening in the front stands around her neck, embellished with navy blue piping. A pair of leather gloves adorn her hands.
The upper portion of her slacks is hidden beneath her jacket, which trails down just below her buttocks. The slacks are as black in color as the jacket and contour to the shape of her legs. Navy blue piping runs down the hem of both pant-legs. The pants have been tucked into a pair of knee-high, tight-fitting and heavily-polished stiletto boots whose heels are a gleaming spike of tritanium.
The only visible insignia on the uniform is the communicator worn over her left breast.
Inventory: = FRU-1000 12mm Pistol (20498) (undescribed) = FRU-1000 12mm Pistol (20373) (undescribed) = A Wrist Computer (3896) encircles her right wrist. = A Communicator (5520) is worn on her jacket.
She is charming.
Hymn Evensong strides down the street, wielding a pistol in each hand. Her eyes meet Heresiarch's, then travel to Adell, lying in a heap in the street. Her face contorts into something insane. "You killed my friend..." she whispers, but it travels the silent street.
Heresiarch says, "Who?", turning her head to notice the retreating Ian. She laughs, and looks back, shaking her head. "Sorry, I forgot."
But in that brief retreating glance, Hymn had raised her weapons. And in the moment Heresiarch laughed, she had begun to pull the trigger. And when the last word left her sister's lips, she completed the action.
Two duranium bullets left the guns, and in a split second to human perception, they connected, one to each of Heresiarch's eyes.
But Heresiarch's eyes reappear, as though nothing happens. A smirk plays across her face, "Ouch." she says.
Hymn Evensong shakes her head at her sister, frowning, lowering her weapons. "I'm so sorry," she says, her voice normal. "But Bose-Einstein condensates revert to standard gases at a temperature above absolute zero."
Ian Sturmvogel watches the whole incident play out as if disembodied. The look of complete and utter hate on his own face as Heresiarch mouths the words... the shock as Hymn raises her weapons, how he covers his eyes, shields Balar's corpse from any explosion... but none plays out. He sees that the bullets had no effect, and his face casts down, his eye closes... they have seemingly been defeated.
A muffled explosion and Heresiarch's eyes widen for a brief second before she suddenly becomes nothing but a pool of liquid in the street.
Hymn Evensong's lips quiver and a gun is once again lifted, but to her head.
Maera Tainer screams, "NO, HYMN, NO!"
Ian Sturmvogel hearing the noise his eye springs open, his body still shaking... he stands, next to Balar's corpse watching the pool of liquid spill across the road, over his own feet. He looks down at the liquid, and looks up to Hymn as she puts the gun to her head... "NO!!!! HYMN!!!
Hymn Evensong pulls the trigger and with a pop, she crumples to the street.
Maera Tainer continues to scream, crawling across the street, sobbing to the point where she couldn't possibly see.
Ian Sturmvogel still shaking, he closes his eye again, falls to a kneel on the street in the liquid remains of Heresiarch, and just grits his teeth. A single tear falls across his cheek.
Maera Tainer has already become hoarse by the time she reaches her friend, her clothes drenched in what is left of Heresiarch, and she grabs at Hymn, pushing and pulling her lifeless body by her uniform. She pulls her into her lap and, despite whatever pain there might be in her shattered arm, she embraces the gynoid, repeating 'No' over and over again.
Ian Sturmvogel opens his eye, still breathing heavy, and rises to his feet. Looking around at the streets, he returns his gaze once more to Adell... sweet Adell. The last mistake he will ever make. He leans over and covers his hand over her face, closing her eyes. In a final gesture, leaning even further, he kisses her gently on her forehead. Stifling another emotional moment he blurts out once again, "I am so sorry... so sorry..." Leaving her there for the moment, he walks over to Tainer, still shaking, breathing heavily.... "I... I..." He kneeels down looking over Hymn... "Hymn, you had protected us for so long... you protected us in your final moments..."
Heavy foot falls can be heard from the north, as personnel in Prosper Group uniforms finally arrive, many of them wearing clothing identical to Adell. Medics attempt to aid Maera, but she pushes them away violently, still sobbing, ever uncontrollably, knuckles white from the grip she has on Hymn's uniform.
Maera Tainer pushes on Hymn's chest. "Upload," she says. "Please upload." She repeats herself, over and over again.
Ian Sturmvogel standing for himself, and also pushing away the medics, he looks around as if in a daze once more. He just walks back over to Adell, and slumps down onto the curb, next to her body. As medics continue to pour over him and the surrounding area, Ian just stares off into the distance. He pulls off his cape, pulls off his beret, throwing both on the ground. Staring... continuously staring off into the distance, a bit of Ian's small universe has died today.
When the medics find Adell, most of them are shocked, and several of them cannot help but become emotional. Like Maera, their hands lay on their friend, their commander, trying to find some semblance of life in the shattered woman.
Maera Tainer gives up, her body too tired, her mind too encumbered, and, in shock, she stares at nothing, her mouth agape.
Vena Del arrives from the /CW\ Haven St. North exit. Vena Del has arrived.
Ian Sturmvogel looks up at the faceless medics, watching them busy like ants over the area... they seem to go faster and faster in front of his eye. He becomes almost claustophobic before standing. "Enough of this!" He calls out. Looking around him, he just sees and takes into account the whole scene. Gazing at Maera.... "Who... who do I blame here... who can I take to account..."
Vena Del walks down the street casually, one hand on her hip, the other swaying. "The buck stops here," she says in response to Ian, walking past Maera without a glance, straight to Adell. She takes a kit from a medic without asking and then looks at the Bajoran, retrieving a tricorder and then scanning it over her.
Ian Sturmvogel turns to Vena as she scans Adell. "Get away from her." Ian steps closer to Vena.... "I said get AWAY FROM HER." Raising his hand to point. "She blamed you. Heresiarch blamed you. She said you had become too 'Unity.' And indeed, look at you. You damned right, the buck does stop here. With you."
"Her brain is intact," Vena says to no one in particular, ignoring Ian for the moment. "Her spinal chord is severely damage, I've never seen compression fractures like this on cervical vertebrae in an adult before." She hums to herself, "Fixable. Core temperature says she's been dead fifteen minutes, that will make things easier." She shakes her head, "She's blown both of her pupils, she'll need replacements." Soon afterwards she stands, "Do you want to discuss how unfortunate politics are or would you rather I save Adell Balar's life?"
Ian Sturmvogel looks up for a moment at Vena, then at Balar... shocked, his jaw slightly cocked at her diagnosis... breathing deep and heavy, he nods his head once and takes a step back from Vena and Balar, letting them do their damned business.
Vena Del shakes her head and snaps her fingers at a medic. "Put her in stasis, I'm a little too pissed to let this bastard slide right now." She turns toward Ian and lifts a finger accusatorially, "Yes, this is all my fault. Good job. You're so well-informed. If the Unity hadn't told Maera they could defrost and cure my body, I wouldn't be here. Hell, Natalie Roseland might still be in charge, stealing from everyone, keeping the populace living in tents for the duration of their lives because she certainly wasn't going to let them leave. Maybe Adell and Hymn would still be alive, if I were not. You want to trade? I hear time travel isn't that difficult with a B'rel and a star." She shakes her head, "I will be God damned if I'm to be lectured by some foreigner about the way things happen here. You know nothing, Mister Sturmvogel. Heresiarch did not come here because we live in a spire city or because I wear a skin suit, she would've come here and did this if we were all still living in Lusankya City, drinking Salizaritas and having a great, old fashioned love-fest in Hedonia. She came here because we put her in stasis for four years, because Hymn wanted it, and I let her do it instead of the wide-dispersal transport the bitch deserved." She shakes her head, "Everyone in this galaxy criticises the way I've done things here, and despite some pretty horrible consequences of it, we're still doing a damned sight better than the rest of you cretins, so turn that critical eye at yourselves for once and leave us alone."
The medics package Adell with great care onto an anti-grav sled, activating several visible forcefields around her. "Aethermourne, Doctor Del?" asks one, an officer.
Vena Del says, "Aethermourne."
The officer medic nods and he leaves with his group at a quick trot up the street.
Balar Adell leaves through the /CW\ Haven St. North exit. Balar Adell has left.
Ian Sturmvogel takes a deep breath at Vena, and says exactly what he is thinking, saving her the time to parse a difference between the two. "Hymn Evensong was the last good, decent thing to have come out of this god-forsaken govenment of yours. She was concerned about individual life, and growth, and the betterment of people as a whole. Naive thoughts perhaps, but noble, good, decent pursuits. For too long, I've been concerned about the larger issues... stopping Hirogen, keeping the Borg at bay, stopping individuals with gradiose plans of changing the 'status quo,' But Adell made me realize something today... it's indidviudal actions, indiviudal people that matter the most." Ian takes anotehr step towards Vena's accusing finger. "You say you protected your people... from what? Hymn is dead now. Can her programming be saved? I have no idea." Ian pauses once. "I'm by no means perfect... none of us are... but thinking that you're somehow above us, that you need to make the big decisions to save us from ourselves?" Ian spits on the ground in front of Vena. "Whatever."
Vena Del shakes her head and laughs, without the slightest shred of humor. "There's an old expression about pots and kettles. Don't lecture me on making decisions for the greater good, taking the charge to rectify the problems for everyone. I was StarForge, we owned the Breen middle-man comms system, Heliodromus. Let's not kid ourselves here. Let's not pretend I'm the only one playing a martyr. Let's not pretend I'm the only one trying to save people from something they can't imagine."
Vena Del says, "Disenfranchised just as I was, left your home nation to fix the problems of the galaxy. My God, we are so alike, no matter what you believe. You're just starting, I've been doing this for a decade."
Maera Tainer inhales raggedly. "Stop it," she whispers, pleadingly.
Ian Sturmvogel turns to Maera as she speaks, and nods, turning back to Vena. He folds his arms the look on his face fixed into a single hard look. "For Adell... thank you. But what of Hymn."
Vena Del says, "There are Evensong Hubs from every Qvarni outpost to every starbase, she didn't upload. She didn't want to. I don't know what she wants. Can she be put back into another body? Yes. But with how much of a memory loss? And what do I do? What do we do? Tell her that she killed herself because she had no choice but to kill her sister? Do you think she wouldn't do this again? Or do we not tell her, do we never speak of what happened here, because ignorance is bliss? Until one day she finds out, because of a minor slip of the tongue? Then what? Does she get over it? Does she kill herself again? Does she become just like Heresiarch? Feeling betrayed?"
Vena Del says, "This was her choice. She chose to put a gun to her head. Adell did not choose this, it is not her fate."
Ian Sturmvogel nods slowly. "Then what is done is done... I can only await word on Adell. And I best be doing this elsewhere... alone." He buttons up the collar of his jacket, that somehow came undone though all of this fracas. "May Mithras guide you, Madam Delukanasi." Ian begins to turn and walks down the street back towards the transports.
Vena Del curtseys. "Mister Sturmvogel, good day."
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