Survivor Mode

Posted on 20 Aug 2023 @ 7:20am by Lieutenant Aria Rice & Commander Scarlet Blake

1,692 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 18 - Cold Station 31
Location: IKS Praxis - Aria Rice's Quarters
Timeline: MD 14, 1830hrs

[ON]

For a moment, she just watched her face in the mirror. The scars, still raw a red, but flesh knitted together, the scab of the cut on her chin. Her eyes, blue, staring at herself. She swallowed, her hands shaking for a moment, feeling slick with blood. She washed them, scrubbing hard, despite knowing the blood had been cleaned off ages ago. Days ago? She could still feel the Klingon's blood on them, soaking into her.

Her breath shook for a moment before she closed her eyes. She had never thought herself as a survivor. She had always seen herself one stupid comment away from demotion or death, depending on the situation. Yet here she was and here she had been, surviving. Taking a life, her first life, to save her own. The universe would still have been there without Aria Rice, yet she had put her life ahead of someone else's, and ended them. What consequences would it be from the House of the dead Klingon? An eye for an eye.

What consequences would it have for her soul?

She opened her eyes and took a steadying breath, watching herself. She had removed the colours in her hair, which was hanging straight now…like heavy curtains framing her face. She felt different in this moment, a coldness that gripped her bones. She had to survive. It was temporary, but she had to survive.

If only long enough to face Tarin and punch her in her face for sending her here, away from her ship. A double edged sword, because Aria had been glad to leave the Acting Captain behind. But from one disaster to another, she had walked.

She watched her Klingon uniform for a moment, replicated and adapted to suit her frame. Not the same as the others in that sense, and now there were spots that were getting worn and dirty, scarred by that one fight. That one battle. She grimaced and pushed back, moving to search from her things.

In ancient Earth customs, for many different cultures, warriors put on makeup before battle. Either to scare their enemies, or to provide spiritual protection. She got the black, moving to the mirror before putting some on her fingers and rubbing them over her closed eyes. Another layer of armour, of protection. She stopped before it was too much, before it became a mockery of herself. But enough to make her feel she was somewhat protected. She cleaned her hands again and packed her things away, taking a moment to think.

Survivor's move. Alright. But she needed information, and she wasn't entirely convinced her Klingon Captain would give that to her.

She didn't hesitate but tilted her head back to ease the stiffness of her neck as she accessed the communication. "Etisa, report to my room," she said before cutting the link. She needed information to survive and Etisa had seemed partial to her. She had also offered good advice in their conversation. Truth was, Aria needed to know how to win those Klingons who had sided with Brin't'a, who had left in disgust when Aria had won.

It only took a few minutes for Etisa to arrive, letting herself in without warning. She was taller than Aria, significantly so, and there was strength in her arms and frame. Her long, dark hair held the classic wave in it, and although there were a few narrow braids that kept the front strands out of her face, the rest was allowed to remain loose. She wore an informal dark red robe rather than her armour, suggesting she had been practicing Mok'bara.

Aria looked at her, straightening slightly where she stood. When the door closed behind Etisa, Aria got straight to the point. "I want to survive here," she said, bluntly. "But I think I need some advice on something. Brin't'a's people, how do I get them over to my side?" In other circumstances, Aria would at least have asked how the other woman was...and yet she knew that wasted sentiments weren't exactly something Klingons seemed to approve of. Even so, it was difficult for her not to ask, to query, about her wellbeing.

"You don't," Etisa waved a hand as she invited herself to take a seat. "You do not need to win over worms like them. Keep them in the cold, and they will either fall or crawl to you."

Aria met her eyes, holding them before she took a seat as well. It went against what training she had been given in Starfleet, where you would at least start a dialogue. She nodded, watching Etisa. "Be firm, ignore them unless I give them orders or they make themselves known?"

Etisa gave a nod so firm, that it made her hair quiver. She leant forward to Aria, a hand planted on her own knee as she watched her with steel blue eyes. "They showed themselves to be beneath you. They are nothing. They should win *you* over..." she leant back in her seat as she gave a hefty shrug of her shoulders. "But watch your back. And your food and drink. Cowards will be cowards."

Aria kept herself from saying with the Klingon food and drink she most likely wouldn't be able to tell it was poisoned. She had a good constitution when it came to food from being from Luna, but even she struggled with the Klingon cuisine more than she liked to admit. In fact, she was reasonably sure the moment she was alone on Regula I she would eat her own bodyweight in fried foods to make up for it. Or possibly brownies. Or cupcakes. "Thank you for your advice," she said, meaning it. "Can I ask why did you not walk out?" she wanted to know why this woman hadn't done it.

"Why should I have?" Etisa asked, almost as if taken aback that she would even need to ask. "You were half her size with twice the prowess...you won against all odds. That makes you the mightiest warrior of them all. I have lost all respect for those who walked out in disgust...showing support for a weak coward...it makes them just the same."

Aria watched her before she gave a firm nod. "Your support honours me more than you think," she finally said, thoughtful. She was learning. It was all about strength, about firmness. About the things that she never saw in herself, not truly. It was about steel. Show no weakness, don't turn your back and always, always challenge, she reflected for a moment with a slight frown. "We are one crew, regardless of species. We are the crew of the Praxis."

Etisa laughed, a soft, low sound more from her throat as she shook her head slowly. She set a hand on her knee before leaning to her, holding her eyes. "Now say it like you mean it..."

Aria looked at her, a grin coming to her before she leant forward, hands on the table as she held her eyes. "We're one crew," she said, firmly. Believing it.

"There is the warrior that brought Brin't'a to her knees!" Etisa laughed, thumping her fist into her hand. "Your enemies will not underestimate you for long...if they do, they will pay for their blind stupidity."

Aria laughed and hit the table with her fist. "No one can stop us," she said, firmly, before she nodded. "I understand more than, Etisa." And she did. About what she needed to do. "I will need you while I am here. I need someone I trust."

"You have earned loyalty," Etisa agreed, nodding slowly as she watched her with sharp eyes. "And respect. Remember this...you are not the only new thing. Our Captain is new also."

Aria nodded, thinking about that. Yes, he was. "A lot of change for the crew," she said, giving a small nod of acknowledgement. "It's why I need you, to be my...second. If something happens to me, I know you'd uphold the agreement with the Galileo." Because she believed the Klingon woman had honour.

Etisa nodded without hesitation. It was simple to her. If an oath had been made, it was dishonourable to break it. No grey. No exceptions. No cheating. No interpretations. "All debts should and will be paid. On all sides. For all things."

"I agree," Aria said, with a firm nod. "I thank you, Etisa, for your help. I will have your back whenever you need it." A promise, in its own way.

Etisa laughed softly at that, the sound rolling in her throat as she pushed herself up to stand. "That you will, Aria Rice. Some time, some place, I will call for you and you will be there."

Aria held her eyes before she stood as well. She offered her hand over to her, giving a nod. "My word," she said, to make it official. A vow between them.

Etisa grabbed her forearm emphatically, taking the chance to feel the strength in it. "You train well. Make time for it here, do not let him dull your blade."

Aria gave a nod, her hand grabbing in return. "I will," she promised, because truthfully if she couldn't train she might actually lose what little of her mind she had left on the ship. "I have not let any man dull my blade before."

Etisa grinned at that, nodding with approval before taking her by both arms to pull closer, so much so she almost lifted the petite human from the ground. She turned her head to whisper to her ear...as close as Klingons got to whispering at least. "They make good targets for keeping them sharp," she chuckled before releasing her and turning to the door.

Aria watched her go, letting out a breath as she left. She felt better, more determined, for having Etisa to talk to. And get some advice from. "Okay," she breathed, to herself, the room dark and empty around her. "Survivor mode engaged..."

[OFF]

Lieutenant Aria Rice
First Officer
IKS Praxis

&

Etisa
IKS Praxis
[NPC Blake]

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