Star Trek: Starbase 777 - outpost-perimeter

Behind the trees, a grid could be seen - and by that grid, people were walking by it's perimeter, uniforms dark, weapons out. It wasn't hard to guess who they were.

4

As they approached, Emni's hold on Kiadras' arms tightened - a reassuring squeeze, and part of an act. As if feeling it in the air, the other Caernu members also perked up, shoulders squared and faces serious, following their leader's example with practiced ease.

Green eyes slid over the Trill’s shoulder to Emni, giving the slightest of nods before she rapidly changed her expression to something much more serious and very pissed.

Vovvi kept her head down. Luckily, she didn't have to change much— entering Tal Shiar territory was already making hair prickle up on the back of her neck, her eyes darting back and forth, identifying as many people as she possibly could. How many, where are the exits, where are the cameras— questions that don't need to be answered by the ever-vigilant Narrator, just ones running rampant through her mind.

As they got closer, the guards turned their heads towards them - and slowed down their gait...

Kya quietly walked with the rest of the group single file, being near the front. She walked silently, recalling stories she had heard from Bajoran survivors of work camps, adding the fear and sadness of their stories into her own performance, head down, eyes racing in fear. She was a scared civilian, nothing more.

Dezyim had fallen behind Allan, wanting to stay close to someone he knew. He allowed himself to fiddle with his hands, look around apprehensively. He was usually so self contained that it made him look nothing like a future officer. If anything, he looked more like a scared teenager.

3

Tavek raised his head only once. He only needed that long for his eyes to flick back and forth at a superhuman rate, taking in as much as he could see of the compound and people. Then, he quickly looked away again, like he was a terrified civilian who wasn’t even brave enough to look at the Tal Shiar. He quickened his breathing- sure, it took a bit more battery, but it made him sound more panicked and afraid.

Raatar stayed toward the middle of the group once again. He wanted to make sure that he would be equidistant to anyone that may need help. He lowered his head and slowly chuckled as he ground his teeth together. Today is a good day to die. He balled his fists as he just kept them by his sides. He wanted to make sure he looked as uncomfortable and disgruntled as possible.

He was in front of Allan, trying to work out how tense he should look. His usual reaction was to try to remain calm, which he'd often succeed at, but would it be detrimental to look TOO calm? He could feel a tension from the others that was already selling it, though; no need to over-act. He let a little anxiety bleed through, which was visually just looking around with a few nervous ear-twitches when he heard any sudden sound.

Similarly to others here, he also didn't have to pretend too much - given this was Tal Shiar, he was understandably already uncomfortable. A little mix of scared, and a feigned look of annoyance, because, well. He'd be pretty annoyed if he got arrested by the Tal Shiar, probably? Still, he kept his head down as they walked, paying a little too much attention to the rhythm of steps around him.

As if sensing the anxiety, the resistance member guiding Dezyim gave the cadet a slow, gentle pat on his back.

3

Stitches brought up the back of the line, their expression stony-faced as ever. Sometimes, it almost worried them; how well they fell into line, following the militaristic rhythm of a death march armed with a disruptor, the spitting image of .. well. It was their job to blend in, wasn't it. Almost there. Almost there. Don't stumble now.

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"Identify yourself," one of the guards demanded, now taking steps closer to the group. Upon noticing Emni's uniform, she nodded: "Commander."

"Luvais t'Nima," she replied, expression cold, angling her chin up. "My patrol has found these people loitering around, heading for the grid. We intend to interrogate them, and find out their intentions."

"Oh, tourists?" came a snide remark from the second guard, coming up behind the first one. They glanced at the "tourists", gaze unimpressed, with a crooked sort of smile. "This ain't Risa, lovelies."

Kiadras grimaced, and held back the urge to spit in the guard’s face. He just curled his upper lip in their direction and muttered a, “Clearly,” under his breath.

"Either a bunch of fools, or something malicious," the first guard sighed, walking by the line, looking at each and every face. "Sure a colorful crowd, though. Wouldn't be surprised if they were sent by the colony. Those fucks are getting way too curious of us."

Good. Good job. Vovvi had full faith in Kiadras, she knew he could do this. It was very hard not to shiver when the guard walked by, though..

The Trill traced the first guard’s walk, looking over her shoulder just the slightest to make sure they didn’t do anything to the rest of the team. The last thing they needed was someone getting pulled out of the line and being made an example of…

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Well at least they did not have to pretend to be nervous. In this case they didn't even have to stop their hands from shaking, after all they were meant to be scared. They were looking at the floor, because they desperately did not want to be seen as defiant in any way and would also prefer it if these people saw as little of them as possible.

Sheesh. He knew this wouldn't be friendly company, but these guys really were more annoying than he somehow expected. His eyes rolled on instinct, but hopefully that wouldn't be noticeable to anyone. After all, he hadn't even noticed it himself. Just happened.

Mudd stood there looking emotionless next to Dakom who he had placed himself by seeing as it was the only person he really knew in this team. Mudd felt empty inside as he stood there watching everything unfold was he supposed to have a particular emotion in this? Fear? He oddly didn't feel anything. Meanwhile the voices of his previous hosts were all chit-chatting about something he couldn't make out since they were chatting all at once so it sounded more like a buzzing of a bunch of bees then people talking.

He followed the guard with his eyes. It took all of his nerve to not turn his head towards the guard as they passed. Not being able to keep his eyes on the enemy made him almost too uncomfortable to bear. He squeezed one hand in the other, and tried to focus on what they were saying.

Her leisurely gait came to a halt by Mudd's side. (edited)

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Dakom could feel the unease building, the anxiety seeping through his blood like a poison. He felt trapped with the same feelings echoing off of every mind around him — save for the Tal Shiar, of course. When the guard stopped beside Mudd, however, the way they spiked was entirely his own. He hated this. He hated this feeling. Dakom wanted to reach out, reassure him, but the only thing he could broadcast now was panic, so he didn't. His voice was no comfort among the others in his head.

It took a moment for Mudd to realise that someone had just came to a halt and was now maybe targeting him. Now he was starting to feel something, anxiety started to creep up on him but that did not show thanks to.. his VISOR! So for now he stood as still as a mountain neither reacting or speaking half out of fear what they'd do.

She held her weapon in one arm, while extending the other one towards Mudd... only to flick his visor with her fingers. Ouch. "That's a Federation trinket, no?" she mused, nose crinkling. "Perhaps even Starfleet...' (edited)

2

"What an astute observation, Lieutenant," Emni's voice rang out - cold and distant, yet laced with sarcasm. "Truly. Next thing you'll say is that this is a Trill. I am so glad you learned your different alien species 101 so well. But you seem to be forgetting the rules, though? Hands. Off. The prisoners."

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"I meant-- ugh, nevermind," the Romulan women backed off, admonished. The snicker that ran amongst the "agents", didn't help. "I apologize, Commander t'Nima."

Zhi'rev had been silent the whole time, mostly just watching and keeping his head down. That was what he had been told to do, and that was what was best for the mission at hand.

He barely felt the flick but he did hear the little clink, he sighed inwardly in some relief which echoed through his mind as well as the previous hosts voices, he thought he had been a goner for sure but that might not have been the case just yet. Though he dared not to speak a word in case of saying the wrong thing, after all he didn't want to be the one blowing their cover.

"This one doesn't look Fed," the second chimed in, studying the young Cadet with the same almost lazy demeanor. "Long way from home, aren't you?" they jeered, prodding the poor kid in the side with the business end of their disruptor.

Almost immediately, out of sight from the agents in front of them, the back of Stitches' disruptor dug slightly against Allan's back; the signal being clear. Don't. Move.

Kiadras tensed up as the guard started to bother the cadet, eyes flicking to Emni for a moment before returning to the guard. He’s not gonna do anything stupid, he’s not, but the urge is there.

"Junior Grade, back off...." she warned, calmly. Decepticely calmly.

"Ha... yeah..." He laughed nervously. Don't say anything, don't say anything... "They let us take vacations now, the Dominion. Lucky me, picking somewhere I'd be captured." He tried to smile, but it came off as more of a wince.

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Tavek was stiff too, fighting to keep his breathing at that scared-but-not-hyperventilating level. It was hard to act alive, but he had to. Most of his mind at the moment was focused on that, eyes occasionally flitting around to check the situation. That poor Cadet.. he reminded Tavek of the civilians he had seen the Tal Shiar terrorize during his resistance days, or the teens who joined the Resistance and had so much energy and life in them. The teens that often died as teens. It was hard not to react to it all.

What? Okay, logically, he knew Stitches was behind him. He knew that from earlier. Right, and he also knew that Dezyim was behind him. And he also knew that he was hearing another agent now behind them somewhere, seemingly addressing Dezyim as a disrupter was pushed against his own back. It was a clear message, though, not to move, though he did try to look as far back in his peripheral as he could. Subconsciously, he was biting his own lip so hard it started bleeding a little when he heard the cadet speak.

Raatar just tried to stay silent as best as he could. Seeing the others being picked on and not being able to do anything about it tore at him. Their honor should not be impinged by these people. However, he knew acting out would only bring further harm. His finger nails began to dig into his palm. Focus on the pain. Focus on the plan.

"They talk!" the guard reported brightly, earning another round of jeers as they leaned in. Their toothy grin widened. "And have a case of the giggles. We can cure that for you, can't we? Maybe take this one's tongue once they've sung for you, eh, Commander?" they mused, poking playfully at the cadet's cheek.

6

“Never played with a Vorta? We’re not very fun to torture, I must say. We have a habit of… dropping dead.” He made eye contact with the guard. His tone was almost playful, but his expression had turned cold and calm.

6

Ev'kor sucked in an audible breath as Dezyim played with fucking fire in front of him, sending his nerves singing. But not like a fun song, like a sudden crescendo when you awaken a boss fight.

First, there was a snarl. Then, a shadow. And then there was his hand - latching itself around the agent's jaw and neck like a predator's maw, the leather of his glove creaking with tension as he squeezed the face in his grasp, bringing the unfortunate soul closer to himself until Temar loomed over them. "Someone needs a disciplinary rerun?" he uttered, voice muffled and raspy and wrong, his breathing wheezy. "Your Commander gave you an order and you ignore it? Careful with that tongue yourself, s'Khev, before it's served to you during supper... now apologize, and back off."

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Didn't Vorta diplomats have the ability to essentially kill themselves built into their biology, or was that misinformation he read somewhere? He wasn't sure if that applied to Dezyim either way, but even if it wasn't true, maybe it being a widespread enough belief for him to know it would make what Dezyim said convincing. He said nothing, not wanting to say anything unnecessary.

The agent was about to remark in turn when they were promptly dragged easily as a ragdoll, a hand tight around their jaw. They fumbled over themself for a moment, mismatched brown and black eyes wide with the fear of death itself, before finally managing to find their voice; small, meek compared to how confidently they'd taunted Dezyim, "Sorry. I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again," whatever it took to get those giant hands off of them, holy Elements—

"Better," he unclenched his hand, side-eyeing the heckler. "Now can we pass by or not? Waste of our time..."

"Of course. Of course, sir," they staggered back to the first guard's side, parting the way for the team.

She murmured something to them, while pressing something on her PADD. And... voila! Part of the grid was now disabled.

"Thank you," Emni looked back at the row, counting heads. "Let's go."

"Oh, be quiet—" the other officer hissed in turn, their head down, posture perfectly straight, and disruptor held properly.

3

The Trill moved forward at Emni’s comment, taking in a breath and letting it out. Alright…alright, here we go.

"Everything okay?" she asked Kiadras quietly, as soon as they were out of the guards earshots. Which was quite a bit, considering their hearing. "I'm sorry that you had to see us act this way. This is... the norm here."

Vovvi fought the urge to sigh in relief once everything was over. They made it through the first checkpoint. Now for the hard part...

“Yeah, I mean- At least I’m alright,” Kiadras whispered back, looking out of the corner of her eye at Emni as they continued to march down the hallway. The bright, somewhat cocky attitude Kiadras had on display in the camp was long, long gone, “Cadet’s alright?”

Left, right, left, right, left...Sideon's focus was just on his steps. Head down and quiet, that was the plan right? It was working at least. He allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief as they got out of earshot, shaky as it was from his attempt to stifle it.

As things resolved with Dezyim and he felt the disruptor come off his back, he let out the breath he hadn't been quite aware he was holding. It came out in a bit of a cough, and he was a little bit too polite to not cough into his elbow. While that happened, it was a good opportunity to wipe off the little of the blood too, at least, before his arm went right back down to his side. Back to the walk.

"Should be, one of ours will check in with him. That damn prick..." she sighed, her gaze focused forward. "...we sometimes get them into our cell, you know. We protect our kin in any way we can, and that includes deprogramming. And... teaching a person that this ideology is wrong can already be hard sometimes. But this distrust, corruption, and abuse that runs rampant through their ranks and hierarchy... getting them out of that mindset is somehow much harder. Like trying to get a trashing animal out of a beartrap." Emni winced, then, crinkling her nose a bit: "Ugh, sorry. It's just... something I think about often when I have to infiltrate. And when I work with young people like that."

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Almost like clockwork, Stitches slotted into place at Dezyim's side, keeping their eyes forward and "Don't turn your head. Keep moving," directing him to do the same. ".. Almost got yourself killed. Are you alright?"

6

“Hey, you’re all good,” Kiadras offered a reassuring smile to the Romulan over his shoulder, “I..may not have a lot of experience with the Tal Shiar, or…any, for that matter, but I get it. I mean- My previous host took me under his wing, helped get me to be a lot less angrier and self-hating than I was when I was a teen. It’s…hard work, helping someone out who doesn’t want it,” He let out a soft huff, “But it’s good work.”

Dezyim was practically burning a hole in the back of Allan’s jacket with how hard he was staring at it. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.” His voice was soft, almost far away. He ran a hand over his neck absentmindedly. “…I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

3

"You handled it as best you can. Catch your breath. There's more work to be done." Shit at comfort, aren't you Stitches. Even so, they fell back in line, going silent once more.

2

"You're alright, cadet," Ev'kor murmured from the very back. "Just, try not to do that again, please, you might give me a heart attack." Seriously, Starfleet needed to train their cadets on how to respond to high-stakes situations without resorting to threatening suicide. What the hell was that.

4

1

Havra kept her head bowed as they continued on. She could act and she wished this was that, but the dread that made her breath come in irregularly intervals and almost caused her to trip over her own feet was not a mask but rather the absence of one. It made her feel exposed like a piece of meat laid out on a rock for a bird to swoop down from the sky to pick up and tear apart. She tried to tell herself that it was good, that it made all of this look believable, no one would ever know for certain whether this was real and yet some part of her desperately wished she could stand up straight, raise her head and feel just a little more in control.

4

"Thank you," she nodded, then carefully pulled Kiadras closer to herself as they took a slight left turn. In front of them, an old, large building... "It's hard, but it's necessary. Someone has to get them out, and then guide them trough the ruins - because the peak of those realizations is usually very... cathartic. Yeah... okay, enough chit-chat for now - proceed to look miserable again, scientist. We've got work to do. And, if a Junior Grade suddenly approaches us... don't worry about it."

2

“Hard but necessary…you’re doing good work, Commander,” A little smirk from the Trill before she nodded, “Look miserable, got it,” She responded, quickly flattening her expression and slouching her shoulders.

Ato was a doctor, not an actor. However, he did his best to imagine what it would be like to have been captured by fascists and treated, well, badly, and was now being whisked away for...worse things. It actually made him quite angry to think about all the people the Tal Shiar had harmed over the years... Which did good for making his face look unhappy. His little blue antennae slumped, twitching irritatedly.

The closer they got to the outpost, the more they became surrounded by agents. Most didn't give them so much as a passing glance - Emni's (fake) rank seemed to be enough. But... how would they get their prisoners into the warehouse with precious cargo?..

Cargo shuttles. One, two, three, four... there. The one with yellow markings, currently on repair. Temar hummed, prompting a glance from another "agent" in front of him - who quickly nodded and smiled, as if giving Boar permission. Said permission was for the detonator in his pocket. As soon as he pressed it, a minute or two after their group passed the shuttle, it's exposed engines came to life with a hiss and a crackle, belching out cloud after cloud of smoke, covering the perimeter in stench and fog, hiding the away team and the resistance cell... (edited)

"Fucking-- damnit! Again??" came some poor engineer's exasperated shout, as the group quickly squeezed itself into the #outpost-storeroom.

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