[[BACKPOST]]: Vokau

Posted on 13 Nov 2012 @ 6:51am by
Edited on 09 Jan 2013 @ 5:03pm

1,994 words; about a 10 minute read

Mature themes within, MOUSE OVER Vulcan for translations!

ON:

[[2374: P'JEM, ERIDANI SECTOR]]

A slight whine permeated the atmosphere, something whizzing past, the high end of a pin dropping, before the ground shook with impact. The sounds of stone cracking and wood splintering intermixed with shouted orders, the sky filled with smoke.

Down below the ground, a few of the V'Shar forces were gathered, attempting to strategize.

"Tra'ish-veh, gla-tor du?" a tall Vulcan said. Inside their compound, they had spread over a map on the small table where he was now pointing.

Liyar stepped forward and shook his head. "pu'Fen-tor ish-fna-krus Jem'Hadar. Hal-tor la', etek." He pointed to another section of the map, leading into the Sanctuary interior. "Zaprah ra kup etek. Katau ha-kel fal-tor-plak."

The commander leveled a stony glare at Liyar. "Teretau-sfek tix'oi etek. Nekwitau sa-au. Fam'etek nen."

"Wafu-au fa-wak, du?" Liyar continued, undeterred.

"Dungi fam'fa-wak au, kuv pakik P'Jem."

Another loud explosion rocked the underground complex and the commander snatched the map, pointing at his troops in succession "Hal-tor svi'udish. Meskarau ish. Tor kup du, Liyar." he said, almost resigned. No Vulcan could truly outright prevent their brethren from returning to the Hall. "Dif du, dular, Liyar. Nem-tor tenah dif-tor, nash-veh fam du Nirak-tor."

They made their way forward and outward.

Liyar immediately separated from the group, and headed down a small hill, the sounds of battle in the distance. He narrowly avoided a phaser shot and he ran, felling the lone guard with a twisted grimace. The Jem'Hadar dropped to the ground heavily, head lolling slightly at the tal-shaya zehl.

(Briefly, he remembers for a split second his childhood home, as a boy, T'Maile telling him reproachfully as he comes home from his lessons, gloating a victory over some schoolyard peer. Everyone has a mother, Liyar. Reprimanding him on humility and chastising cruelty. The abruptness and severity of that lesson sank it in deeper.

Everyone has a connection. A story, a family. Their life is more than an abstract. More than a name, more than a face. Every life has value. Every life means something to the lives around it, and that is how the universe works. It is part of the fabric of their world. It is the reason Liyar keeps moving toward Sanctuary, keeps hoping, in some way, that he can bring some part of these people back with him.

He has never killed, before. Never like this. But as he looks down at the Jem'Hadar soldier, he realizes, almost mutely, that this thing really doesn't have a mother. It doesn't have connections. It doesn't have a life. Its sole purpose is to fight and conquer and destroy. Liyar feels, irrationally, comforted by that fact. As if he has not just snuffed out the life of another sentient being.

He will worry about that later.)

Liyar knelt down and retrieved a PADD from the man's side, but he couldn't understand the extensive orders. He only needed the pass key. He would figure it out later. He stuffed it into his coat and ran once more.

The crumbling walls of the Sanctuary interior building greeted Liyar as they came into view. He wasn't sure what he would find inside. The civilians at P'Jem had fled to the inner areas, the catacombs. In this day in age, there would be people of all ages likely crowded into the small building. He could not understand why the Dominion was doing this, why they had chosen P'Jem as their territory of assault. Even if it was weak, it held little strategic value.

Liyar heard several voices shouting through the walls and he pushed open the door, making his way inside. There, at least a dozen civilians were surrounded by Jem'Hadar soldiers, and one Vorta.

"Halt!" the Vorta said in Standard, holding up a hand.

Liyar stopped as the Jem'Hadar rose their weapons toward the small gathering.

"Get him over there. Now."

A Jem'Hadar soldier moved toward him, and Liyar immediately dropped into a fighting stance. "Leave," he commanded resolutely.

The Vorta grabbed one of the civilians and pressed a phaser to their neck. "I said, halt." Another soldier fired a phaser at the wall, where several plaques and documents were stored.

"Tor du kup, traveksu. C'thia. Katau ha-kel fal-tor-plak." The woman spoke calmly, raising her head defiantly against the phaser.

Several bodies lie behind her, dead or very nearly dying.

"What, do you want?" Liyar asked, staring at them. "Why, are you here? P'Jem," he gestured, "This, is not useful."

"Tactical advantage? Perhaps not. They say you are emotionless, but you are just like the rest of this quadrant." The Vorta rose a weapon of some kind, and leveled it at Liyar. "You have something to lose, here. Give us the orbital commands, Sergeant."

"No. You will kill." Liyar looked at the group, making some kind of internal deduction. He eyed the weapon pointed at him and watched almost from another perspective as a streak of light shot from it and surrounded him. He didn't crumple, or die, or even feel pain.

Until he realized his shields were completely gone. The telepathic presence he had learned to control for most of his life had no bars to hold it. Liyar's eyes widened and his breath came uneven as he fought to reign it in. He could feel and hear everything, nothing was organized, nothing made sense. All his memories and thoughts began flying past him completely uncontained.

"We will spare them, for the commands. If you do not give them to us, we will kill them all and take this planet anyway." He pressed the button on the phaser, and the woman slumped over. Liyar moved forward, but he was stopped by a pair of hands at his arms. "The commands, Sergeant." He rose the phaser again at one of the children. "Now."

Liyar inhaled, looking around as if to find some way out of the situation. He could feel them. Everywhere. The Vorta tightened his finger on the phaser and Liyar shook his head. "You ensure I take them home." He pointed at the bodies. "Ensure it!" he growled out, the capacity for emotional control shredded as easily as a tissue. That Vorta had done something to him. But he couldn't worry about it now. He struggled to maintain some kind of implacability.

"You will. The commands, Sergeant."

"506-77-34-Tri'ahsem-63-99-2. Do no more."

The Vorta smiled, and pressed the trigger. The body fell forward, pale with lifelessness.

The other soldiers began firing simultaneously in the small quarters, and the building shook as its foundations began to crumble, taking with it several ancient artifacts and historical documents. Another man dropped as a large stone impacted his skull.

"Kroykah! I gave the codes!" Liyar threw the Jem'Hadar off of him and stepped forward once more.

"We said you could take them home, Sergeant. We did not say you could take them home alive. You will contact your Command. Tell them: P'Jem has fallen. Your world may be able to defend itself, but we will have what we came for."

Liyar ran forward as he was released, dropping down to several bodies that were inches from death. It didn't matter about his shields. He pressed his hand to their psi-points, struggling to shut out the sounds of death around him. The Jem'Hadar and Dominion forces began moving out of the small room, leaving Liyar amidst the falling rubble. He knelt down next to as many as he dared, repeating the process of melding as he could. He suppressed a grunt of pain against the onslaught on his consciousness, and stared forward at the only unsealed exit.

"Kesau-tor, Liyar! Ni'rch tra', tevan-tor svi'udish. Svi du?"

The voice came from his communicator, but Liyar was too preoccupied to answer. He grabbed the only body he had discerned could be saved and hoisted it over his shoulder, running for the exit and stumbling with the effort it took to remain upright while a cacophony of thoughts swirled through his mind, not of his own. Grief and terror and fear, certainty of death, his own and yet not. He managed to get through the exit, the harsh rays of Eridani's sun greeting him as he found his way outside. The building behind him methodically began falling, disappearing into the ground as it was swallowed.

Liyar dropped the man on his shoulder to the ground and pressed the button on his communicator. "Tevan-tor pla'dor! Poprah Dominion pa-yut kiht. Tevan-tor svi'udish. Ya'akash mamut hasuk."

He looked up, watching as several ships lifted off into the sky, bombarding the orbital station above with purple directed energy beams. In the distance, he could hear more shouting, and unnatural screams. Liyar pinpointed Vulcan in the distance in the sky. He had to get back. All that they were, their living essence. He had to get them home.

He knelt down next to the man who stirred a bit, raising his hand. "I will not make it. Tell them ..."

He pressed his hand to Liyar's face.

[[2374: VULCAN ORBITAL COMMAND, ERIDANI SYSTEM]]

The thick ceremonial robes T'Ven wore swished by as she walked, hands in front of her, a contrast to the one she stood before who was haggard and dirty, the diplomatic uniform he wore torn and smeared with green. She approached the team, who were all in various states of disarray. "The Dominion have transmitted their messages. We have one rotation."

"It must not be gone unanswered," Liyar said vehemently, and in any other circumstance he might have been chided on his lack of control, but carrying several essences within him seemed to afford him some leniency. "We must regroup. The V'Shar --"

"They will do what is necessary. Now, we must do what is necessary. Step forward, Son of Severen." Her tone brokered no room for argument, and Liyar did as requested, but staggered and seemed to fall.

"I cannot sustain ..." He blinked, staring at the ground, willing his mind to return to order, but it was powerless against the raging crowd in his head.

T'Ven was undisturbed. She brought out what appeared to be a vase, with an intricate design on it. Her touch against his mind was methodical, ordered, precise. "Do not try to. They are home, now. Peace, Liyar."

He closed his eyes. In the distance, he thought he could hear someone say, "Get him to the Healer. Now. Put him with the others."

OFF:

T'Ven
Liyar

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