USS BRITANNIC
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Preservation

Posted on Wed Sep 16th, 2020 @ 8:43pm by Zirvell Khen

Mission: Mission 1: Good Things Come To Those Who Wait
Location: Lamenda Colony
Timeline: a little before britannic arrival

Fully intent on reporting his delivery to Zaggor, Zirvell all but beelined for the 'command tent' as soon as it got in his line of sight. He was aware of the stragglers around him, the noise of things being overthrown as people searched for anything edible or usable.

He frowned to himself as he kept his eyes in front of him, trying to draw as little attention as possible. It wouldn't be the first time someone had taken an interest in him for whatever obscurity the person had been thinking of at the time.

A scream caught his attention as he drew closer to the tent and his head snapped up to look around. Certainly, people screamed often and this was no novelty but it was the kind of scream that drew his attention. He tilted his head as his eyes scanned for the source of the scream, which was shortly followed by an infant's wail and some unintelligeable shouting.

The teenager quickened his step though remained a little cautious. As he rounded the corner he spotted an older male, though not much older than he, yank an infant from a woman's arms. Instantly, he recognized the young woman as the one he'd shared his meal with only hours before.

"Hey!" he shouted as he approached, now breaking into half a run. "Leave them alone! Leave the baby alone!"

Startled, the older male looked up though a snarl ripped across his face. "Butt out kid, don't get into this. It's my business." He firmly shoved the woman aside, keeping her away from the baby. "You have no idea what you're dealing with here."

Zirvell glanced sideways at the woman, who lay sprawled, weeping for her child to be given back to her. "Give it back to her," he demanded, approaching even though he was probably no match for the older male. Especially, since he wasn't armed. He saw a glint of metal, and felt the searing pain as the blade slashed across his chest well before he realized the other had attacked him.

The younger man grimaced, though there was a determination set in his eyes. He ducked under a second swing, grabbed the wailing baby from his arms and carefully tossed it to the woman, bidding her to run, and hide. He was no fighter even though he was capable of defending himself if he needed to. Silently, he thanked his father for the few self defense lessons he had reluctantly attended at his father's insistence.

His distraction nearly cost him his life as the man swiped at him again, drawing blood across his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, Zirvell tackled him and tried to wrestle the blade away from him. "Who are you to attack a harmless female," he snapped defiantly, while trying hard not to hurt the man. He aimed to toss the blade away once he wrested it away, rolling aside as soon as he succeeded.

There was no answer beyond an angry snarl, and Zirvell thought that he was dealing with a savage rather than a civilized Cardassian. Defensively, he raised the blade before him as the other sprang at him and both went down with the momentum. Boy against man, the boy had the odds against him from the start as he lacked the physical strength and training the man had. Yet, as they rolled, the man suddenly lay still on top of the boy, his body limp and heavy.

Zirvell gasped for breath, blackness dancing at the edge of his vision as he scrambled from underneath the body and rolled it over. He gasped as the blade protruded from the man's chest, scrambling away from him in horror. "No... no no no..." What now? What was he supposed to do now? He looked around, trying to find witnesses, trying to find anyone who could say that he'd been the one who had been attacked. But there was no-one. The woman had ran with her child, and now the teenager was left alone with the man he had just, apparently, killed.

"No this didn't happen," the teenager breathed, "I didn't mean for this to happen!" He scrambled, not knowing what else to do. He ran, back to the tent, back to continue his original errand, hoping to pretend nothing had happened along the way. Out of breath from his ordeal, the boy scrambled back inside, reporting on a job accomplished as if nothing else had happened. Yet, there was something about the way he carried himself, that betrayed his lie.

 

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