#32 The Final Destination Pt. 2

Posted on Mon Jan 9th, 2023 @ 8:53pm by Taavis {SF Capt. Ret.} {UFP Intel Agent} & Commander Kehlani

Mission: AMONG US 8
Location: planet Sh'Tal
Timeline: current

ON:

With Kehlani out doing her own thing to see about finding the torpedoes, Taavis had separated from the Klingon so she could mingle with some of her own contacts. People who did not like to be seen too much by those they did not know. In order to keep them veiled Taavis had suggested that Kehlani check out the slave pens while she saw to the warehouse district. Having bought several items from local vendors Taavis redressed. Over the top of her black, flat leatheris catsuit she now wore padded work clothes for miners, being bulky enough to hide her gender adequately, with the hooded black cloak she had purchased completing the ruse. Over her face she wore a rebreather mask with built in goggles that adhered to her face and hid her features, making her look like just another being who needed special equipment to breathe in certain atmospheres. With hood up and over her head her ears were hidden from view, as was her flesh, her hands covered in black, flat leatheris gloves. With her disguise complete Taavis began to head further into the city.

After being here five days both she and Kehlani had found a trail of bread crumbs that may, or may not, lead to the torpedoes. They had been out of contact with each other over the past 24 hours, and that gave Taavis time to meet up with a few contacts in a lone warehouse set away from the others, the windows blackened and motion sensors set up in every duct and vent leading into and out of the building. Approaching the ramshackle looking personnel door, a ruse to cover the fact that the duranium door was new and solid, she moved a piece of alloy sheeting aside and touched the wall beneath it with her open palm, gloveless left hand, another hidden electronic device for entry to those with the right clearance. Namely, their DNA. Once she heard the door give a clanking noise as the locks released Taavis put her glove back on and entered the building, the door on a slide for either powered opening or manual, and nary a sound came from it other than a swish sound as it slid along its track. Stepping inside, Taavis made sure to close it behind her and lock it.

Ascending the steps to the office area upstairs in a corner of the warehouse, Taavis could hear someone breathing heavily, with moans and whimpers of pain coming forth occasionally. Getting to the doorway into the main office/admin area, with nothing in it but a bar, some chairs scattered about with one having a bloody and bruised occupant, and a dozen beings of various species standing around with glasses in their hands and wearing civilian attire suited for rough and tumble action. All of them wore some kind of weaponry, and all of them had a particle weapon on their hip.

"Ahhh, there 'they' are." Said an Andorian female, one of those not strapped to the chair. "I suggest you talk now, idiot. You are about to face the faceless!" She gave an evil chuckle.

They were all here, the Inner Circle. Twelve beings who ran everything behind the scenes for the Cabal. Ran everything for Juntao so 'they' could remain anonymous and continue to move freely about the galaxy. When one did not know the gender or species of an organization's leader it was hard to pin anything on them, and even harder to figure out who they were in order to bring them down. The Cabal Inner Circle had sworn a blood oath to never reveal who Juntao was, ever. Each of them had their own means of suicide to prevent being tortured and questioned should they ever get apprehended. The last Circle member to have been caught had to be killed in prison by inmates loyal to the Cabal, since they had said they would talk to get free. No such talk ever happened. Tarsi, the Andorian woman, was that weaklings successor and she had proven herself loyal time and again.

Having entered and making her way around the room to stand behind the makeshift wetbar, Taavis began to remove all the extra clothing and gear. When she finally got it all off she blew a lock of hair out of an eye and breathed out. "It was hot in there. That mask was squeezing my brain." Her loyal Inner Circle all gave chuckles while the Andorian male strapped to the chair looked on, pretty much directly ahead of Taavis from her vantage point, with three meters between them. "Is he necessary?"

Mahrz, the only Klingon member of the Inner Circle, looked over at Taavis. "He was, Juntao. But, he is beginning to outlive his usefulness."

The Andorian's eyes went wide when the Klingon said Juntao. "No way. You can't be. Juntao is...well, Juntao is not...this can't be...it can't. Juntao is..." He kept repeating himself now that his addled brain was finally catching up with where he was and who he was actually facing.

Taavis took up a bottle of Aldeberan whiskey, popping the cork and tossing it on the bar as she made her way around the bar to stand before the Andorian prisoner, taking a few gulps of the alcohol on her way. "Hey, you said that three times now," Taavis chastised the man, leaning back with her lumbar region against the edge of the bar and crossing her legs at the ankles casually. The cynicism and sarcasm were not lost in her tone. If there was one thing Taavis despised most in the underworld it was ignorance and stupidity. Crime should be used for noble causes, not to steal from people who barely had anything to begin with. She took another swig from her bottle with her left hand, her right hand with the thumb hooked into her belt near to the butt of her own phase pistol. She stood up straight and began to walk toward, and around the blue man. "What is it you know about Starfleet weapons here on Sh'Tal (and, why T & K had called it 'shithole')."

"I don't know anything, I swear. Please, Mistress Juntao..."

Taavis backhanded him hard, with enough force to knock some teeth out and tear a gash in his cheek. "You do not have permission to use my name! Mistress, or Madame, will do fine." She then reached out and grabbed a fistful of his hair to angle his face upwards, her own inches away from his. "Do you hear me?!"

"Yes, yes, I hear you. Apologies, Madame. I have done nothing to you or against you. Please, I have a family." It was hard for him to speak with missing teeth and the blood in his mouth. He made sure not to spatter her with it while he spoke. He was only partially successful.

Taavis released his hair and stepped back. Like any species Andorians were as diverse as anyone. Most were brave warriors who were not afraid of pain and death. But, like this one, there were always exceptions to the rule. With her fingers she swiped away the droplets of blue blood that had offended her skin. "Last chance. Where-are-the-torpedoes."

The man dropped his chin, shaking in fear. "I can't believe this is happening to me. They'll kill me and my family. I...I can't."

"Rekar!" Taavis said the name with force, turning her back on the man and stepping away a pace, looking to a more shadowed area of this empty office. From that dark place stepped forth another Romulan, who like Taavis, did not sport the head ridges. He was another from Family Tovan, and the half-brother of Taavis. "Make him talk!"

"As you wish." Rekar spoke smoothly, with no lilt to the voice, just a matter-of-fact tone. "This could get loud, and messy."

"Wait! I'll tell you! Just...just don't hurt my family!"

Taavis spun about and looked at the battered Andorian. It had felt good to be the Romulan she was, and not hiding behind her Vulcan half. The Tal Shiar had learned a vast lesson in what it meant to tussle with the Cabal and their leader Juntao, as the Cabal had been instrumental in aiding the fledgling Romulan Republic to split from the iron boot ways of the Star Empire. Section 31, too, had learned that lesson. The Cabal was in league with an organization calling itself INVICTUS, a black-on-black Intelligence agency opposed to Section 31 and their operating procedures. "You tell us what we want to know and I promise you, your family will not be harmed. They will be protected, as will you, for cooperation. But, should you ever, and I do mean ever, speak of me or who I am that will end. We will kill your family right in front of you before we kill you. Is-that-clear?"

"Crystal," answered the man. "I don't even know who you are, Ju...I mean, Madame."

"Did you really just banter semantics? You know damn well what I meant. You have five seconds and then the deal is off the table, and that man there," she chinned at Rekar. "Gets to do what he does best. Wring information from people."

Rekar, as Taavis had been talking, drew forth a rather lethal looking stiletto, which he pretended to pick his fingernails with while showing a bored expression.

The Andorian began to sing, his pigeon self spewing a vast amount of information both useful and useless to the Cabal, or even Taavis herself. But, the torpedoes were in this very district, kept in a warehouse a few blocks away. Taavis looked to her twelve, the Inner Circle, giving the nod they all knew so well once the man said that was it, all he knew.

"Recover those torpedoes, cleanse the building. If you lot heard information to aid in taking this Sh'Tal over, do it! I am behind on data to assist, having not been here." They all gave nods and acknowledgement to that. "This is now Cabal territory. Tribute or tribulation, I will accept nothing else form the others here."

Rekar had put his dagger away, looking at his sister. "They will pay or they will pay. We will not fail you, Juntao."

Keeping a fellow officer in mind, letting a piece of her Starfleet self interject in her character, Taavis gave another directive. "Henri, a clan leader for the Orion Syndicate, is a good business woman and would be an asset. Try and open a dialogue with her, reach an agreement. Tell her that Juntao says that a violent confrontation would be good for neither of us, and that Sh'Tal will be hers to run as the Syndicate, but a tribute must be paid quarterly and that the size of the tribute is open to negotiation. Do your best, Circle. I know her daughter, Billi."

They all said they would work diligently to bring about a peaceful resolution with Taavis telling them that if it came down to a war then they were to be wiped from Sh'Tal, to the last. No Syndicate would ever be allowed on planet should Henri choose to fight. Again, her people complied without argument. "Secure the torpedoes and bring them here. I want a squad of the Cabal's best guarding them. I shall return as Commander Taavis to reclaim them for Starfleet."

With her orders given, Taavis got dressed back up in her disguise and left the building, taking the most shadowed and dim accessway to leave the area.

***

Having gotten rid of her disguise once again, piling it up in a refuse unit down the block, Taavis entered the pub where she and Kehlani had agreed to meet. Upon entering the actual swinging, hinged door and closing it behind her Taavis walked into a Klingon singing fest. Kehlani was in the middle, back against the bar, a barrel of bloodwine open before her on the floor with five other Klingons standing around and dipping their goblets in as they all drank and sang. All of them were laughing and howling in between the words, and after each song finished. When the song did end they would all give Klingon belly laughs, drink down half their wine, then dip it in for more. If nothing else, Kehlani could find a party anywhere, or create her own.

Kehlani, upon seeing Taavis finally, slapped her fellow Klingons on the chests as she stepped away and went to the side with her partner. "You found something?"

"I did," she handed Kehlani her PADD, unlocked. "The torpedoes are there, those coordinates. I ran into some of my old Romulan Merchant Service compatriots and they are going to secure the building for us. It will be over in a matter of hours. So, in celebration, I will drink with you." She gave a grin.

Kehlani read the data and handed the device back. ~Will celebrate with a drink, eh?~ Thought Kehlani, able to smell liquor on the Vulcan's breath. It was slight, but it was there. No Klingon missed the odor of booze. "Qapla'." She said. "Come, we will fill our cups and sing these wretches under the table!" Said Kehlani, walking her partner back to the group and motioning towards them as she said wretches in fun. They all laughed.

Taavis was not a fan of bloodwine but, for the sake of the mission, she would quell her dislike and drink it anyway. Rekar knew to be the only one there when they signaled they were coming to recover Starfleet property, to fulfill the ruse and complete the story. Kehlani would not understand and may become aggressive if she knew the rest. No one on Mercury could ever know who she was behind her loyalty to Starfleet. It was a means to do things, and accomplish things, that the UFP and Starfleet could not. The honor of the Cabal must be upheld.

So, while she waited for the signal, Taavis drank with the Klingons.

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