The Last Temptation of Mnhei'sahe Dox

Posted on Tue Oct 8th, 2019 @ 8:52am by Riov (Captain) Dalia Rendal & Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & erei'Riov (Commander) Arrenhe t'Suil
Edited on on Mon Oct 28th, 2019 @ 9:55am

Mission: Family Detention
Location: Romulan Warbird, 'The People's Will'.
Timeline: 2396

"She is to receive proper medical care and treated with the respect due my apprentice."

"Apprentice."

The words of Riov Dalia Rendal echoed in Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox’s head over and over, all night long in the quarters of the Warbird that was her prison for what had been a month now. The day before, Rendal had Dox brought to the Warbird’s gym to engage in a sword-fighting ‘lesson’ that the young Rihannsu Starfleet officer had done her best to fail at miserably. And fail she did, just not as she had intended, as Rendal successfully pushed her notorious temper to get out. And in doing so, Mnhei’sahe revealed that she did, in fact, know how to swordfight. And she revealed more than that. She revealed her anger, her training and her willingness to abandon the principles of Starfleet if pushed far enough. It was a devastating loss on many levels.

Since Mnhei’sahe had successfully kept Rendal from re-writing her loyalties artificially in the Neural Extraction Converter, the regal Rihannsu Commander had shifted tactics to a twisted version of what her grandmother had attempted and was now trying to shift Dox’s loyalties to the Rihannsu Star Empire the old fashioned way. And Dox was letting her try. It was the only way that she could think of that would keep Rendal from further torturing her grandmother and it was the only way to play out the clock and wait to be rescued. But Dox knew that time was almost spent.

Pacing angrily in the so-called VIP quarters she had been locked in again, she glanced out of the small window into space as the stars outside streaked by, slower now. The Warbird called the IRW People’s Will had slowed to what Dox assumed was approximately warp 2. The life long pilot knew that meant they were likely nearing the edge of the Eisn system and their final destination, ch’Rihan. She would be lucky if they were any more than a day away now and that day would be her last chance to keep herself alive.

Flumping onto the small couch attached to the wall that had been her bed, Dox let out a sigh. Once they reached ch’Rihan, she knew she would be lost. There would be almost no way for Captain Telvan to mount a rescue once she was on the planet, in the Tal’Shiar’s tender mercies. And once there, they would have infinite time to break her to their will. She might have beaten the Neural Extraction Converter once here on the ship, but she had no illusions that she could do so indefinitely.

As she sat there pondering, the door chime chirped. The chime was a new luxury that Rendal had implemented: pretending to give Mnhei’sahe some illusion of control over her situation. They were pretending to ask to come into the room she was still locked in.

“Come.” Mnhei’sahe said flatly as she stood back up and straightened the black undershirt of the partial Rihannsu uniform she was given to wear (another not too subtle bit of indoctrination) and pretended to be respectful as the door opened and Rendal’s second in command, Erei’Riov Arrenhe t'Suil stepped in, arms folded behind her back.

The SubCommander had been noticeably upset when Rendal had called Mnhei’sahe an ‘apprentice’. Clearly, a title t’Suil herself felt was her own and Mnhei’sahe, in her anger, stoked that fire a little bit. But t’Suil has restored her military composure and stepped to the side of the open door. There was a single Centurion standing outside with his weapon holstered who was standing to the side as t’Suil gestured to the opening of the chamber. “If you would, the Riov would like to speak with you in her Command Suite.”

It wasn’t a choice, but the SubCommander was making every effort to make it appear as such and Mnhei’sahe decided to not press the point or antagonize the woman further with snide comebacks, for which she had plenty in her mind at the moment. Instead, the Starfleet pilot simply nodded and stepped into the corridor with her arms folded behind her back.

Once in the corridors, she was being escorted through the heavily guarded Warbird more like a guest than a prisoner now, and the distinction made the hair on the back of Mnhei’sahe’s neck stand on end. Rendal was attempting to groom her, obviously. Make her cage feel welcome and inviting. And in her desire to stretch the clock out, Dox was letting her try, which she knew was a very dangerous gamble. After all, it was a very short distance between pretending to be compliant and simply being compliant. She knew this all too well from her time at the academy but had run out of other options. And after a few minutes of awkward silence, Dox arrived on the Warbird’s command deck and the commander’s office located to the side of what Dox realized was the ship's bridge on the other side of the bulkhead.

For a moment, she thought about if she could get that disruptor out of the Centurion’s holster and rush the bridge long enough to send a message to the Hera. But the ridiculous thought passed as she took in a breath and reminded herself that her best option was to try and outlast her captors. Use the discipline she had been taught as a Starfleet Officer to maintain her composure and her training from Sonak to maintain her own mind. Then, the door in front of her wooshed open, and there at the desk in front of her, stood Riov Dalia Rendal. The Tal’Shiar Commander that stole command of this ship from her grandmother, Senator Verelan t’Rul. The woman who ran her sword through Mnhei’sahe’s father’s heart right in front of her. The woman who had the audacity to call Mnhei’sahe her ‘apprentice’.

"So good of you to be punctual in your arrival. That is truly an admirable trait to have. May I offer you some refreshments?" The Royal Riov motioned towards a small serving tray with a few unmarked bottles of various blue and green liquids in them and a pair of tumblers.

Glancing at the tray, Dox was sorely tempted. On top of the impossible tension of her situation, the young Starfleet Lieutenant had also spent the last few months dealing with her drinking problems and this was the last place she needed to slip. Stepping into the room, t’Suil and the centurion stayed outside as the door slid shut leaving only Dox and the Riov in the space.

“No thank you, I’m fine.” Dox replied, maintaining her facade of respectfulness that she had become extremely good at keeping up after her weeks here had forced her to refine that skill.

Rendal just shrugged and poured herself a glass of one of the bottles, downing it quickly, the alcohol fumes visible as she did so. "Ah yes... There's nothing like a properly handcrafted one-hundred-year-old kali-fal. It truly puts any of the mass-produced knave to shame. Including Praetor's Reserve. They say that after the first eighty years, it loses that blue tint and turns green and that's when you know it is truly a vintage worthy of being called the finest in the Imperium."

"Anyway, I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here today." Rendal poured another shot of the same bottle into the same glass and offered it to Dox. "The Starship Persephone has contacted the Senate, claimed that you're one of theirs, and demanded your immediate release."

Pursing her lips slightly, Dox nodded away the offered glass and replied again, working to keep any hint of warble out of her voice, “No, thank you.” The best Kali’Fal she had even had as ‘Praetor’s Reserve’, a gift from Enalia Telvan back before she had stopped drinking and could smell it in Rendal’s outstretched hand. Instead, she pushed the thought out of her mind and focused instead on Rendal’s other statement. Both women knew Dox’s assignment was to the Hera, not the Persephone. It was approximately nine months ago that Dox and Rendal first encountered each other on Starbase 336 when the Hera had taken the base from her, though the two had never interacted. “And what is the Senate’s position?” She replied simply.

Rendal downed the glass before any further flavor evaporated, the overall level already having dropped at least a millimeter during the interaction. "Their official stance is one of plausible deniability. They know nothing of your grandmother's kidnapping of you so they've promised platitudes of 'looking into it' for now in the interests of staving off the potential for war."

"They also mentioned your mother, but it was made clear that if she was indeed captured by the Tal'Shiar, it would have been to make her pay for her crimes as a traitor to the people of ch'Rihan and she would not be returned." The jade faced woman returned the glass to the small tray and placed her hands on her hips, not entirely unlike a certain Trill captain. "So congratulations. You being here is a potential war crime. If you'd care to review the Senate's conversations with the captain of the Persephone, feel free to do so."

“Looking into it?” Dox replied flatly. “So, I am to be lost in the system for now, I take it? Pending whatever official story will eventually come out, depending on my actual fate. I would have to assume when my Grandmother’s goal was my integration into Rihannsu society, that some story was in the works to justify all this. Was I to eventually be declared a willing defector?”

Then, the young pilot shrugged slightly. “And yes, I would like to review the conversation whenever possible. Thank you.” She had to admit, at least to herself, more than a little curiosity with the specifics of the tactics that Starfleet was employing in this situation. She understood that since the Hera didn’t officially exist, that they couldn’t claim her directly, but was curious as to who exactly was speaking for her on a ship she knew nothing about.

Rather than replying directly, the Royal Riov stepped over to the desk and pulled up the recording and began playback. One of the senators came onto one half of the holographic riser screen while a stony-faced Cervan woman in a red Starfleet uniform came up on the other half. "The discussion is rather long. I recommend having a seat." Rendal did so herself, adjusting the sword at her waist as she sat on the couch on the other side of the office.

The royal Riov had ignored Dox’s more relevant question regarding her fate, of course, and Dox logged that in her mind as she sat on the seat in front of the desk to watch the screen where the initial negotiations regarding that fate were to be discussed.

The Starfleet officer that introduced herself as Dox’s superior officer called herself Captain Naraan Seria. Dox had never seen the woman before in her life, and the realization sank in that she was about to watch to people lying to each other quite officially. A cheep game of poker played with her life and future. And that was exactly what began to unfold. Captain Naraan read off the list of accusations dryly as if reading a script designed to be as indirect as possible, and the Rihannsu Imperial representative on the other side of the screen, an older slightly pudgy woman with graying temples and the typical, half-lidded expression of contempt common among her people who identified herself as Deihu Teria t’Nargia, gave back the canned answers just as Rendal had summarized.

Mind-numbing recitation of treaty details and specifications, read as if reading baking instructions for a cake, came from the Starfleet Captain who did her level best to sound like someone who actually cared about Dox’s fate, all the while, feeling faker than the Romulan Senator. Retorts and denials from the Imperium were the standard and predictable responses.

Then came the mention of her Mother. Captain Naraan had politely requested Jaeih Dox’s return as well and the cold-faced Deihu flatly refused. She didn’t directly admit that her mother had been taken but stated uncategorically that if she was in Tal'Shiar custody, that she would not be returned as she was considered a fugitive of the Imperium and was to be punished accordingly.

Then, a knot tightened in her stomach as Captain Naraan… conceded the point. In the interest of 'avoiding the potential of increased hostility between the Federation and the Imperium.' The facade of impassioned observation Dox had been maintaining dropped ever so slightly as her eyes went slightly wide. Starfleet’s official position in these negotiations was that Jaeih Dox… her mother and an Intelligence Operative for the Hera... was expendable.

It was hard for Riov Dalia Rendal to disguise the hint of a grin that threatened to grace her features, but she endeavored to do so nonetheless as the recording ended. "It seems that the Cervan woman... Captain Naraan, was it? Is an intel officer first and a diplomat last. Her orders are indeed clear and like all Cervan, she seems to stick to them well. Of course, our spy aboard her ship informed us that she would be easy in such negotiations in her profile assessment."

"As for your future..." Rendal paused a moment, letting things sink in a bit more. "It seems you'll be spending quite a bit more time as my apprentice. How you spend that time is completely up to you. So... will it be spent at least pretending to be a loyal and honorable daughter of ch'Rihan? Or will it be... Difficult?"

On that first day, her grandmother had said it quite clearly: ” realize that this was all planned rather precisely, and that nothing was left to chance.”

So, of course, they had an operative even on a ship that Dox had never heard of that they somehow had predicted the involvement of. And now the embattled Lieutenant had to wonder if there was one or more on the Hera? She had no idea and that idea began to take root in her mind. As she thought, working to slide that mask back in place, she felt a light sweat break out and her hands felt clammy. She rubbed them on her knees and took a breath, looking long now at the tray of drinks still off to the side on the table, biting her bottom lip slightly.

The federation was playing politics with her life. But that wasn’t Enalia. That wasn’t the Hera. She had to keep her faith that Enalia and Rita wouldn’t let her down. She had to keep reminding herself that they would be coming for her, come hell or high water. And she had to stop thinking about those bottles on the end of the table.

“You said I would be allowed to send a message… curated, of course… to my wife. Would I be correct in assuming that this message would also state that I am not here by force and that no treaties have been violated? That I am here... willingly?” Dox said, trying to keep staring forward, her eyes fixed on the now blank space where the screen had been. Fixed on anything but Rendal or the bottles.

"That would certainly make things easier," Rendal confirmed, not moving from her location on the couch, her royal accent stretching out her words just a bit further than normal. "In fact, I have confirmation from our spy that the Persephone is on the edge of the neutral zone awaiting further contact from the Senate and that the Hera is there as well... using that wondrous stealth plating. If you'd like, you may record a message now and after it's cleared by my crew... I will transmit it personally to your captain and wife."

Listening, Dox wanted to say ‘I’ll tell them myself when they rescue me!’ but the words stuck in her throat. The Hera was still on the Federation side of the Neutral Zone. She was the ships Chief Flight Control officer. She knew exactly how fast her ship was. And as she did the math in her head, she realized that if the Hera were to launch at ch’Rihan at maximum warp at that very instant, they would be at least two days too late. And that was if they miraculously encountered no resistance from the Rihannsu military along the way.

She couldn't believe it. She WOULDN'T believe it. That the Hera was waiting. That Enalia and Rita were waiting. Waiting for diplomacy. That wasn't them. It couldn't be.

It can’t be true… It can’t be. They have to be coming… planning something. This is… it’s impossible. Dox’s mind began to swirl. Doubt creeping in for the first time in weeks that she would be saved. Instead, she looked again at those bottles and let out a long breath. She would have to save herself, somehow. Get back to Mona, somehow. Even if the Hera was willing to let her go, she wasn’t willing to let Mona go. She would figure out some way to get home… even if that meant she had no home to escape to.

Looking over to Rendal on the couch, she kept her face as dispassionate as possible. But her skin was clammy and pale and her eyes wide and her hands were shaking ever so slightly. As she spoke, the pain in her voice was palpable and the words weak. “That would be… premature. Considering that the Senate has yet to respond.”

"Indeed. Plus, it would be best if you were better composed. You look like you've seen Al'Thindor himself." Rendal then stood and comported herself as she moved towards the door to the bridge. "Shall we reconvene to the bridge? We've been cleared for a time slot for ch'Rihan orbit in eighteen hours, but we are in visual range now, if you feel up to it."

The words sunk in slowly, at first. They were in final approach. Visual range of ch’Rihan. Romulus. The homeworld she had only ever seen from orbit. It was all too much as she slowly rose to her feet.

Taking a breath, she tugged on her black top instinctively, smoothing it out, and closed her eyes for an instant to try and calm herself down. Her mind was the only tool she had left. The only weapon she had to defend herself with and she needed to keep it on her shoulders. After a long moment, she felt her blood fill her face again though her stomach still felt as if there was a knot of razor wire twisting inside of it. Turning, Dox nodded slightly and stepped over to Rendal, who had shifted to a tone that almost seemed compassionate, if such a thing were possible.

Knowing it was a game… that she was being manipulated… Dox did the only thing she could think to do and played along. “Ie, Riov.”

The Royal Riov simply nodded and stepped out onto the bridge of the D'Deridex class warbird, the door opening out onto the starboard bow corner of the bridge so that all eyes were on them as they arrived.

"Riov on the bridge!" came the instantaneous call. Those not seated came to attention immediately and those seated kept their heads down, preoccupied with their duties.

"Stations," Rendal replied, sending them scurrying back to looking busy. She then walked over to the large central command char and instead of sitting in it, she stood next to it and placed one hand on the back of it.

On the viewscreen was the emerald jewel of ch'Rihan, gleaming brightly with the system's sun not far off. Around it were several dozen ships, ranging from the Imperium's oldest T'liss and T'varo classes all the way up to the newest experimental Haakona warbird that dwarfed even the venerable D'deridex that the Imperial Navy was known for. "It is the dream of every Rihannsu child to one day sit in one of these chairs. If you wish to, I grant you the honor of doing so."

With weak knees, Dox stepped forward towards the center of the bridge. When she was a little girl, her cousin Lhi had given her a gift. A model of a d’Deridex-class Warbird that the young Dox had spent days assembling. She had downloaded copies of the ship's schematics and floorplans and studied them. For a lifetime before choosing the path of Starfleet, this had been her dream.

On the screen, larger than life, was ch’Rihan. She drank in every detail. The lights of the cities in the shadows across its terminator. The turquoise seas beneath the swirling clouds. The fields of lavender and green. All the places she had longed to see and longed to stand that was now looming before her, no longer a promise, but a threat.

Eighteen hours was all that she had left. Eighteen hours and she would be moved there, likely never to leave. The thought filled her mind with an awkward mix of wonder and terror that made her almost want to throw up as she stepped towards the chair and reached slightly forward.

As her fingers touched the cold metal, it was like a shock of electricity went through her. She knew Rendal was watching her. She knew the crew of faces, somehow both strangers to her and yet her own people, were fixed on her actions. She knew the Centurions flanking the turbolift doors would act if she had tried to do anything except what Rendal had given her permission to do. But as she touched that chair, everything else had vanished for her in that moment. It was her and the chair. The command chair of a d’Deridex-class, Rihannsu Warbird. The ship she dreamed of, but not the chair. Slowly, her eyes turned up and past the command chair that Rendal had been offering as she glanced over to the helm.

Mnhei’sahe Dox was many things. She was a wife. A fighter. A friend. A Lieutenant. But one thing that she had been since she was no more than ten… was a pilot. A pilot that wanted back on her own ship, at the helm custom-designed by her bond-mate. The chair she had earned. Focusing on that made the resisting that temptation easier. Lifting her hand off the chair, she composed herself again, and looking back up at the screen, she replied with a bit more strength in her voice. “Dreams are earned, Riov. To sit here… though an honor… would be unearned.”

Inside, Rendal was quite pleased. While she had hoped that Dox would accept, the reply that she did give showed an intelligence and wisdom far greater than she had given the woman credit for. "Wisdom befitting both my apprentice and the heir of house Rul."