'Neath the Raptor's Wing part 3

Posted on Wed Aug 3rd, 2016 @ 11:16pm by Captain Charybdis MacGregor

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Taking Chances
Location: USS Bonne Chance, Deck Five, Captain O'Conner's Quarters
Timeline: 2265
Tags: Romulus,Rikal,flashback

"She surpasses any test we put her to, General Rikal...."

The Romulan general cut off her subordinate with a wave of her gauntleted hand and spoke sharply. "It, Subcommander. Not she... it. That is not a Romulan any longer, it is a creature born and bred of our laboratories, and it is neither a Citizen nor is it a person. It is a weapon, designed and built in service to the Empire. Now give me its status report."

The Subcommander bowed his head slightly in deference and hastily complied. "Yes, General Rikal. It has shown considerable promise... the strength remains the same, but the balance and bodily coordination are quite impressive. The mental testing has been impressive, and it displays a near-photographic memory as well as a cognitive reasoning and intuitive connections that are quite remarkable. The hand-eye coordination augmentations did not take, but as you can see..." the young girl proceeded to do a handstand, followed by a handspring off the balance beam which she turned into a corkscrew spin which ended in a combat crouch.

The General's keen eye discerned that the subject was supposed to end the maneuver upright, but that it appeared to be slightly off balance. She strode over slowly while it stood impassively at attention, then she poked it in the chest. The masses beneath her tunic were each nearly that of a cantaloupe, oddly disproportionate to the rest of its athletic frame, and the subject winced when poked. "What are these?"

The Subcommander hurried to her side and considered his answer carefully before replying. "Breasts, General Rikal...?"

The subject giggled briefly before the General's stony gaze brought it back to attention, then she turned an icy glare upon her subordinate and slapped him across the face. "Don't be coy, Subcommander. Why are they here, and why are they this size? This was not part of the planned resequencing or the body modelling. It was supposed to be athletic and built for endurance, not... comfort."

"We are not entirely certain, General. The laboratory tests and the projections never indicated this as a potentiality, and it is one of the unexpected side effects."

The General slowly turned her gaze which could generously be described as withering upon her Subcommander once more. "One of...?"

"Ah, yes, General," he said hastily. "It seems that sh... it has a considerably active libido that the psychological programmers are having particular difficulty weeding out of it's behavior, as well as certain behavioral proclivities that are tied to it. And... and preliminary reports indicate that it may be somewhat... schizophrenic. Apparently the personality construct is somewhat unstable, as it tends to change mental states and perspectives with a somewhat alarming speed. Though we have confidence this will stabilize over time," he added hastily.

Frowning, the General paced back and forth in front of the subject. "Insane and damaged is not heartening news, Subcommander. Does it function? For all the flaws and faults, will it serve the Empire and does it know its duty?"

"We believe so, my General. Loyalty to the Empire has been ingrained as deeply as the programmers could manage, and it should be both obedient and still capable of independent action."

"You 'believe' so...?" asked General Rikal with a derisive snort. She turned to regard the test subject. "You recognize me?"

"Yes," it replied simply.

"Identify me."

"General Luna Rikal, seventh wing of the Tal Shiar, head of the subversive directorate, my immediate superior and... creator," it said in a clear voice which was not as devoid of emotion as Rikal might have liked, but it would serve.

"Who are you to me?"

"Major Scylla Charvanek of the Tal Shiar, subversive deep cover agent tau alpha tau one nine six seven, currently unassigned."

"To whom are you loyal?" asked the General as she paced before the subject.

"To you as my superior and to the Romulan Star Empire, General."

"And to any other than Romulans, who are you?"

"I am Charybdis, child of Vulcan, offspring of J'Sin and T'hetis, who were slain by Klingon raiders. I escaped through their sacrifice, to pilot our vessel the Shek-Hinah back to Vulcan. I plan to enter the Vuclan Science... no, I plan to join Starfleet."

Rikal stopped short and eyed the subject. "I did not authorize this plan. Why is it deviating from my plan?"

"I am not sure, General..." the Subcommander began, but was cut off by the subject.

"It would be a wiser choice for me, as it makes more sense and has a considerably higher probability of success. Logically I will encounter nothing but prejudiced from Vulcans, as I will likely prove incapable of following their strictures of logic and emotionless life. Thus attempting to live on Vulcan amongst Vulcans would be fruitless. Assuming that I can find a way off planet after establishing myself as a returning child of their world, I shall enroll in Starfleet and make my home there, where my unique abilities and attributes will make me successful rather than a cultural embarrassment or a liability. Thus I will be in a prime position amongst the humans to study their advanced technologies and report back to Romulus what I learn, to better strengthen the Romulan Star Empire with secrets plundered from the Federation."

"After all, who would suspect a Vulcan of being a spy...?" she added with a lopsided grin.

It disturbed Rakal that it was speaking so frankly and openly, and that it was formulating its own plans and strategies. Practically the only thing about the Charvanek child that had been tolerable was that it had been nothing if not obedient and eager to please, and the Vulcan child had been simply placid. This was an entirely new development of which she was not overly fond. The plans themselves made sense and she liked them, but the subject was far too independent for her liking.

She decided to test it.

"This is an order. Kill the Subcommander. Leave no trace."

In a whirl of motion, before the Subcommander could register what was happening, the subject was airborne and then upon him, wrapping her legs about his upper body, pinning his arms and bearing him to the ground even as her hands grasped his head and snapped his neck. Gravity had not even borne his corpse fully to the floor before she had rolled free, his disruptor plucked from its holster and already in her hand. She cranked the setting to its highest possibility then fired, vaporizing his corpse. She then tossed a floor mat over the ashes to hide them, and returned to attention.

The entire activity had taken perhaps three seconds. The Tal Shiar training had certainly taken hold, it seemed. While it was not the best possible scenario, it was not the worst, the General admitted to herself with a thoughtful look. And it had all happened quite suddenly... she liked that. No hesitation, no compassion, just simple expediency and obedience. She turned to the subject with her arms crossed behind her back, hiding her own holdout disruptor, and addressed it. "Now turn the disruptor upon yourself and prepare to fire."

The subject was not as obedient this time... the survival instinct common to all sentient life was strong in this one, as it had survived a considerable amount to reach this point in time. But it turned the weapon upon itself slowly, and pressed it between the ridiculously prodigious breasts that Rikal could not quite get over. It looked at the General for further orders, oddly violet eyes shining and bright.

General Rakal stood silently for a moment, watching it. Most would not get this far, and if she pushed it to destroy itself there was a possibility that it would rebel and turn the weapon upon her instead. But it was holding the disruptor steadily; its hands did not shake and it did not appear to waver.

"Stand down," the General said at last, and the subject turned the pistol around to hand it to her superior, who took it from her. Rakal was pleased... it may not have been exactly what she had wanted from an infiltrator, but there was a distinct possibility that it might actually succeed. And Rakal was playing a long game here... this was not an operation that would bear fruit overnight. It had already been eight years in the making, after all.

"Dismissed. Return to your quarters and a new handler will debrief you shortly," Rakal ordered, and the subject saluted her then left to obey. She would need to assign a new handler, but the subject appeared ready to be deployed.


Alone in her quarters, the confused and shattered thing that had been created as a composite of two very different young women wept silently for Subcommander Tarsis, lest anyone hear her. He had been kind to her and treated her well, and in the seven years since she had become a pawn of the Tal Shiar, he had been her only friend.

And she had killed him before she had even realized just what her body was doing.

She had obeyed the order of her creator, which was ingrained in her too strongly to resist... but it had damaged her considerably in the process, and the constructed psyche that the psychological programmers had so meticulously built began breaking down, a little at first, and it would cascade more and more over time. And thus her loyalty to the Romulan Star Empire became lesser... and when faced with causing harm to those whom she cared about in the future it would fail catastrophically.

It would be years yet before this flaw would come to light... but when faced with the choice to pilot the USS Bonne Chance home to Romulus as a prize capture, the damage inadvertently done by General Rakal that day would manifest itself in an unwillingness to sacrifice one Siivas McKenzie, MD... another who had been kind to her and treated her well. In acting to save her life, he had in turn saved his own as well, and so many more. For the change that had begun with Subcommander Tarsis would echo through the years until she met the Deltan doctor, who would help alter the course of her life radically through gentle compassion.

In her sleep she wept softly, hugging the pillow which she clung to every night like a life preserver in a stormy sea of nightmare tides as she remembered her past in dreams. The memories were far too buried in the present for her conscious mind to be aware of them, but her subconscious mind was always struggling, trying to reconcile her existence and keep her intact to face the world.

It was another lesson learned which had shaped who she would someday be, 'neath the raptor's wing.

 

RSS Feed