t'Suil's Ramblings

Posted on Mon May 18th, 2020 @ 9:11am by Captain Enalia Telvan & Emergency Medical Hologram (Adam Power) Mk X & Commander Rita Paris & erei'Riov (Commander) Arrenhe t'Suil
Edited on on Tue May 19th, 2020 @ 12:38pm

Mission: Return to the Core
Location: Brig Medical Wing
Timeline: 2397

Glancing down at her PaDD once more, the spotted captain furrowed her brow worriedly. "SubCommander Arrenhe t'Suil. Formerly of the Romulan Navy and Tal'Shiar. If you don't mind, we'd like to ask you some questions about your former Captain."

The EMH, Doc Power interjected softly. "I've healed her body as best I could for now, Captain, but her mind is far from recovered. I must ask you to be gentle, if possible."

With a nod, Enalia tucked the PaDD away and rested her hands on her hips. "Then I'll use Federation questioning methods. I'll simply ask."

Sitting in the mid-sized, white-walled chamber in the Brig of the U.S.S. Hera, t'Suil had slightly more room than not, as this was the medical wing. Outfitted in a basic Starfleet one piece, light blue outfit, she just sat, quietly.

Her shoulder-length, black hair seemed a bit more gray than not for a Romulan in her mid-40's, and she still had a bandage across her face where her left eye used to be. The Hera's holographic healer had done his job well, and if t'Suil could still feel the lingering pain of the frostbite or oxygen deprivation from when her escape pod's life support had begun to fail, it wasn't visible. Instead, she simply looked at the wall opposite her with her remaining eye, a blank expression on her face.

Looking at the wall. Looking beyond the wall. Looking at something Enalia couldn't yet know. But she said nothing.

"Since all we know about you and Captain Dalia Rendal is from Intel reports and Commander Dox's debriefings, we would appreciate your cooperation in these matters," Enalia prodded, hoping for a response.

And a response she got, though only in the slightest sense. At the utterance of the word 'Dox', t'Suil's hands twitched ever so slightly. It was virtually invisible, but as obvious as a red alert klaxon to the keen eyes of the Pirate Captain. And it was a reaction that was reinforced as the medical readout of the sensors that were trained on the Romulan captive noted the slightest of spikes in her otherwise minimal, Vulcanoid blood pressure.

But still, t'Suil said nothing.

And Enalia pressed. "Honestly, we can't even be sure if you're Rendal's lapdog or not. Sure the DNA testing says you are, but unless we bring Mnhei'sahe Dox in here to look at you..."

"Loyal..." t'Suil muttered, a hoarse whisper, barely audible. "I am loyal. I will not betray my mistress. She will never match my loyalty." As she muttered, she leaned slightly over, putting her arms around her knees and rocking in place. 

Enalia grinned slightly as she leaned in closer. "Good. Then we need you to confirm who you're loyal to. Is it Dalia Rendal? Is it the Romulan Senate? Someone else?"

"I am no blood traitor! I serve the Imperium. I serve the imperium!" t'Suil cried, shaking her head as she spoke, her voice now a cracked but week shout of protest. Then, she shrunk back down and began muttering again. "I am a loyal Romulan. She is a blood traitor."

"NO!" t'Suil shouted, jerking around on the padded platform she sat on, as if reacting to a voice nobody else heard, her eyes fixed on empty space next to where Enalia was standing. "I betrayed nothing! I will never betray my mistress! You will never earn that uniform!"

"Who? Who won't earn what uniform?" The Trill captain wasn't sure if she was getting somewhere or if the woman before her had gone completely insane while she was in that escape pod. She was going to do her best to find out though.

"I am her Apprentice, NOT you!" t'Suil said to the space next to Enalia. "I am loyal to my mistress. I never betrayed her. I would never betray her! You are nothing!"

Then, the ranting Romulan shot up from her seat and came so close to the forcefield she was kept behind that her loose hair caused the energy to ripple slightly. But this time, she wasn't talking to open space and was, instead, talking directly to Enalia. "You trust her, but you don't know. No one escapes. No one escapes my Mistress. Not for long. Her grip is long. Almost as long as his."

"His? Who is he? Is your mistress working for him now? What does he want?" Enalia stared deep into t'Suil's good eye, wondering just how far off the deep end she'd gone and if she was going to get anything useful out of her.

Shutting her eye, t'Suil winced and covered her ears as she stepped away for a moment, muttering seemingly to herself, "I will say what needs be said, usurper. Be silent.".

A moment later, she sat back down, seemingly calmly. Then, she looked back up at Enalia, shooting the slightest of glances to that same empty space before speaking again. "My mistress thinks she is in control, but I fear she is the one being controlled. She wishes to save the Star Empire, but I fear she may unknowingly become the instrument of our doom."

"Then tell me what I need to know to prevent that," Enalia replied with a brief glance to where t'Suil kept looking. "And know that no one could ever replace you. No one."

Entering the brig, Commander Paris was clad in her traditional anachronistic uniform minidress of a dozen decades ago, and moved at the martial pace that was yet another unique trademark of the distinctive and unique first officer of the USS Hera. As she spoke, she did not look up from the PaDD, or even acknowledge t'Suil's presence- quite deliberately. "Captain, I have some readings from the Doctor. According to this, she may very well be a quick clone, crafted and programmed to throw us off the trail. He believes it may be possible that Rendal literally cloned her, brain-fried her via Jurot device, and dumped her in an escape pod for us to find. I mean, it is awfully coincidental that she'd disappear without a trace, but leave behind her sniveling toady. Looks likely that this is just a red herring and you're wasting your time here, Captain."

"You're suggesting she cloned her SubCommander and dumped a mad copy just so we could find it to throw us off the trail? That sounds far too elaborate and convoluted even for her. Unless this is either a former clone or a failed clone and she's just running through clones of t'Suil and throwing them away when they're no longer any good." Enalia paced across the room, thinking over the possibility. "The Dominion does that with Vorta, after all. The Tal'Shiar might be secretly doing that with people like her."

Rushing back up to the force field, almost slamming against it, the ragged and damaged woman screamed at Enaila and Rita, and as she did it was uncertain if she even believed her own words. "REAL!!! REAL!!! I AM REAL!!! I am not a clone! I have stood by my mistresses for years! I have supported her unwaveringly for... I cannot be a... no!!!"

Then she turned to the empty space to the side of Enalia and scowled. "SHUT UP!! I AM real! I AM loyal!!! And I will prove it be doing what you will not!!!"

"I will save my mistress from herself!" t'Suil said, stepping back and staring at her captors with disgust. "Even if I must betray myself."

"Mmmm, good drama. I believe this is the part of the plan where she 'levels with us' to give us the invitation programmed into her, to lead us into the trap her creator has constructed, Captain. Let's see how THIS plays out, shall we?" Paris openly scoffed at the madwoman, without a hint of compassion or care for her as an individual. Instead, Paris was already treating her as less than a sentient being, speaking of her instead of to her, not making eye contact and dismissing her status as a person.

"I'd like to hear what she has to say at least. After all, why waste the resources on a clone just on the hope that we would find it? We almost didn't before the escape pod was dissolved." Enalia turned back to t'Suil thoughtfully. So what say you? How can you prove you're real?"

Stepping back from the field, t'Suil scoffed as her eyes darted around her cell. Then, she looked at Rita calmly, once more. "You, she will see dead on her blade for what you have cost her already, HEVAM.

The word was a Romulan slur for 'human' that t'Suil hissed out before turning back to Enalia. "I give you nothing. I will prove nothing for you. For there is nothing you could do to stop my Mistress. She will rain fire, and blood, and death upon you and your federation!"

Shuddering in place, she shot a glare towards the empty air next to Enalia and simmered for a moment. Then, in a quiet whisper t'Suil spoke again, not to Enalia or Rita, but to the vision only she could see. "No, you won't. You won't. You will never be her apprentice. You will never stand by her si... no. Stop it. You're not REAL!"

Looking more and more agitated, t'Suil began shaking as her voice raised. "You... you aren't... you're one of them, aren't you? Like him!?Like the one my mistress serves, unknowingly! You wear this face to make us betray our own! You'll not have her!!!"

And as she began to shout, this time the wounded Romulan woman ran face-first into the force field, which flared to life in a burst of shimmering blue and a crackle of power. And as she did, she was thrown back against the wall of her cell from the force of her impact redirected back upon her, where she flumped to the ground and curled into a ball. And from the ground, she began to mutter to her self in Romulan, "Kaol'nen... Ataen'dænn Kaol'nen."

And even before the universal translator compensated, both women knew the word. 'Kaol'nen'... the Romulan word for a Changeling. Meanwhile, on the floor, t'Suil began to cry as she continued to mutter to herself, in Romulan. "Make it stop. Make the nightmare stop. Please... please let me wake up."

The two flag officers exchanged expressions, and each knew what the other was thinking. Lowering the forcefield, Paris hunkered down on her haunches. While her skirt rode up indecently, she covered her modesty with the tablet in her hand. When she spoke, her voice was low and calm, and her eyes sought those of the wounded Romulan woman.

"t'Suil? I know you don't believe it, but we really are here to help." Seeing no response in the broken woman, the old-fashioned officer sighed, and shook her head. "If Captain Rendel really IS working for the changelings, then we've ALL got big problems. Particularly given the technology they're using, and what they're pursuing. t'Suil, please... share what you know with us, and help us try to save your mistress from something far worse."

Chuckling, Paris acknowledged the facts. "She might want to see me on the end of a blade, but I'd rather see her not destroyed by a Dominion plan. After all, we hevam are that way, aren't we?"

"She... she doesn't know." t'Suil whispered, still curled up on the deck as she tried to scooch away from Rita. "I... I have no proof. Just... a suspicion. She believes him to be of royal blood. Of one of the old houses, but it is a lie. I know it."

"With the Deleth Station, she will have the power to open singularities at will. She has your protomatter data. She has the data from your Blood Traitor's mind." t'Suil muttered, "What can you do to stop her? How... can you save her?"

"We can try, t'Suil. We might fail, but we will damn sure try." In those words might well have been the woman's life mission statement, given the existence Rita Paris had led thus far. Looking back to the Captain, Paris rose from the crouch she'd been in to stand next to the commanding officer, to present a unified front once more. "Where is she going now? What's the next step in her plan, do you know?"

"She's proven her superiority and gotten what she needs from us already... So if I had to guess, she's planning an attack on Asgard next." Compared to Arenara, Rendal's movements almost seemed suddenly simplistic at this point and Enalia had a hunch that Odin, who also had wronged the Royal Riov, would be her next target in some way. Then another thought struck her. "You were the tactical genius behind her plans, weren't you? She made the grand sweeping gestures and you made sure there was subtlety and guile. A perfect pairing, if there ever was one."

Slowly and hesitantly, t'Suil pulled herself up off the deck, clutching the edge of her cot, and eventually, she worked her way back to her feet. Leaning in the corner, she rubbed her face where she had slammed into the force field and flinched as she gently touched her bandaged eye. 

Pausing, she remembered purposefully aggravating her wound in the escape pod to keep the nightmares away. To keep her awake by focusing on that pain, and with that memory fresh in her mind, she clawed off the bandage. Her wound had been well healed by Doctor Power, but the freshly regrown tissue that had covered over where her eye used to be was still green and raw to the touch, but it was a pain that told her something. That this was real. That she was finally awake again.

"Captain Telvan, Commander Paris. You tell me something first... and I will answer your question." t'Suil muttered, still leaning against the bulkhead as her good eye focused on that still empty space next to Enalia, she realized that neither of the other two women had acknowledged anything that the third woman had said or done. "Where is she? Where is your little pet Romulan?"

Enalia's eyes narrowed at the insinuation that she'd keep anyone as a pet, but she answered anyway. "She's on another assignment far from here and won't be returning for some time."

Tilting her head, t'Suil again spoke with her eyes fixed on that blank space. "Just another nightmare, you are. A phantom that followed me back from that black realm. That's all you are, pretender."

Still clearly seeing a vision of some dark version of the Hera's Chief Flight Control Officer, t'Suil looked back to Enalia and continued. "Ie, I served my Mistress as her SubCommander for near two decades. My service was absolute. And yes, that involved enacting her idea and making them actionable tactics. Crew rotations, maintenance schedules, navigational management. Picking the locations where we TESTED that formula we ripped from your little pet's head. So, yes. I know where we have been and likely where she is going. I know the moons that no longer exist to prove our power. Pulled into that nothingness and devoured along with all upon them."

"As for your question, I cannot say where she plans to go next. She knows that I escaped, and thus any specifics I was a part of the planning of have been changed. All I know is that ALL that have defied my mistress and the truth of the Star Empire will fall victim to her wrath, including the so-called Gods that stripped her of the station." t'Suil said, her eye bouncing back and forth from Rita to Enalia. "And the two of you as well. But my mistress does not need me to enact her plans. She will have her revenge, and I will die for betraying her, as mnhei'sahe demands."

"Well, then unless there's anything else you'd like to tell us, I suppose we should leave you alone with Doc Power and your demons," the Trill woman replied, nodding with a stoic expression, looking around as if to locate said demon. "Where is it again? Over here somewhere?" As she asked, she waved her hands around where she guessed t'Suil had been looking, hoping she was going through the vision.

Stilling the mocking of the Captain, Paris stepped forward, her face a mask of concern and compassion. "Your loyalty to your commander is admirable. t'Suil. I know how that is, being the one what makes things work and making it all seem effortless. Pulling strings, cajoling, threatening... all so that their plans succeed, and they never know how close it all came to catastrophe."

"I don't know what came between you, and I won't ask. That's your story to tell, in your own time. But I want you to know... right here, right now, this version of you... I pity you. A faithful retainer abandoned and cast aside after years of loyal service. Your entire life's purpose swept away in the most unimaginably cruel rejection you could image, come to pass. You are wounded and desperate and hating us because that's what she thought is the only thing keeping you going. Under ordinary circumstances, I imagine you are a rather amazing woman, Ms. t'Suil. This version of you, though... this abandoned dog still whining at her master's door when she has moved on... I pity you, t'Suil."

As the rant began, Paris stepped back to the Captain and the two slowly walked away, leaving the madwoman to rant in their wake.

"WILL YOU PITY ME WHEN THE BOOT OF MY MISTRESS IS ON YOUR THROAT, YOU PATHETIC HEVAM!?! WILL YOU!?!" t'Suil screamed as she slammed back against the force field over and over again. Each time, it flared and shocked her back until, finally, she fell back against the deck with a hard thud and a trickle of green coming from her nose. "I... will pity you all when you are bloody ashes. All of you. All of us."

Leaning back against the bulkhead of her cell, she continued to rail to the empty room, "You will all fall! All die when my mistress comes for you! And she will KNOWWW!!! She will know of the nature of her enemies. She will study the files I studied. She will see what I saw and learn what I could not TELL her! She will destroy you ALL!!!"

Then she looked back on the other side of the force field, and saw what she had seen the whole time. The red-headed Romulan pilot of the Hera, Mnhei'sahe Dox, standing there in t'Suil's own Romulan SubCommander's uniform, smirking at her. "Oh, you have made your mistress proud this day, Arrenhe. Rambling like a psychopath. Telling her enemies your secrets. How far you have fallen."

"Quiet, traitor." t'Suil hissed at the phantom in her mind, though for anyone watching, she was simply sitting quietly, not saying a word. "I told them nothing that will save them. They... they will doom themselves trying. And when my mistress comes for me, I will give her what she want's more than anything else."

"I will give her you, oh noble blooded." The madwoman's eyes narrowed, looking at nothing. "And then I shall be her apprentice once more... when you are dead."