Mutual Disruption
Posted on Sat Jan 4th, 2025 @ 3:38am by Captain Mrazak & Commander Sayuri Onaga & Lieutenant Commander BaoJun Qiao & Ensign Rozreell Purr & Ferrofax & Lieutenant Commander Leonora Wolf MD & Staff Warrant Officer Conchobar Breathnacht & Lieutenant Commander T'Bela
Edited on on Sat Jan 4th, 2025 @ 3:39am
2,606 words; about a 13 minute read
Mission:
S1E6: Where Skies End
Location: Fiddler's Green
Timeline: MD 8
Disciple Aeval led them to a repurposed docking bay that had been transformed into an eerie shrine to the Mutual’s ideals. The walls were lined with Borg alcoves that glowed faintly, their shapes a chilling reminder of the Borg Collective. Dozens of commutualists moved in practiced harmony, their mechanical movements interspersed with unsettlingly organic gestures. A small crowd of curious onlookers—spacers, scavengers, and merchants—milled about, drawn by the promise of spectacle or novelty.
At the heart of the enclave, a platform stood elevated, lit by soft, ambient lighting. A figure emerged onto it with a commanding presence.
"That is the Elder of our cluster," Aeval whispered in hushed reverence, "known as Song of Justice. He became a commutualist soon after the Wolf-359 incident."
Unlike Aeval, whose serene demeanor could be mistaken for fragility, Song of Justice exuded charisma and strength. His voice carried through the space, a rich baritone that resonated with conviction.
"Plentiful bounty through sacrifice!" Song declared, his augmented eyes scanning the gathered crowd with an intensity that felt like it pierced to the soul. "Wealth through poverty! Pleasure through abstinence! What many fear to be lost through assimilation is recompensed in the very foundation of the Mutual as we form a new togetherness, a greater whole. These gifts are not forced upon anyone but freely accepted as they are freely given, for our bond is one of trust, not conquest. It is not we who add you to our own but rather you who add all of us to the wholeness that is you!"
While the homily from Elder Song of Justice held the attention of the onlookers, Mrazak took the opportunity to issue quiet orders. "Discreetly spread out and keep your eyes open for Sayuri," he said through clenched teeth. "If there’s a muse, there’s a host. I want that host. Purr, T’Bela, keep Aeval busy. Everyone else, stay sharp."
“That sounds… invasive,” Roz said to Aeval and Song of Justice with a quirk of her brow. “I mean, I’m one to talk. I have the memories of seven generations kicking around in my head but we’re at least singular in our existence. What if you find it too…I dunno… crowded?”
Song of Justice turned his piercing gaze toward Rozreell, the augmented glow of his eyes giving his expression an almost transcendent warmth. His mechanical hand rested lightly on the edge of the dais as though grounding himself in the moment. He did not respond with haste but instead let the weight of Roz's words settle into the space between them, a pause that felt more contemplative than confrontational.
"Crowded?" Song repeated, his voice a resonant hum that seemed to echo both within the room and within the hearts of his listeners. "Ah, yes. To the uninitiated, the prospect of sharing oneself—one’s very essence—with others might seem overwhelming. A sacrifice of individuality. An abdication of the self."
He stepped down from the dais, moving closer to Roz as if to ensure she could hear every nuance of his words. The light from his implants cast faint geometric patterns on the ground as he moved.
"But consider this," he continued, his tone gentle, almost coaxing. "Does the ocean bemoan its countless drops? Does the forest despair over its multitude of trees? Each is vast and intricate, composed of infinite parts, yet none is diminished by their wholeness. If anything, they are made greater by the symphony of their elements. Is that not also true of your symbiont, Mistress Trill? Seven lifetimes, each distinct, yet together forming a single tapestry far richer and more more profound than any could be alone."
Song’s synthetic hand opened, palm upward, as though offering an invisible gift. "We who walk the path of the Mutual do not lose ourselves, but rather we find ourselves reflected in others. The fear of 'crowding' is an illusion, a shadow cast by the ego clinging to the myth of separateness. When we release that fear, we discover that true individuality arises not in isolation but in connection. Only together can we transcend the limitations of the solitary self."
Disciple Aeval marveled at the Elder with a look of almost almost dissociative reverence on her face.
With a faint, almost wistful smile, Song of Justice looked back at Roz, his head tilting slightly as if he had known her for lifetimes. “Does that ease your concerns, O daughter of many lives?”
“More curiosity than concern, I think I’ll stick to my single streaming consciousness. But noted that my own many lifetimes may seem unnatural to some.” Roz said with a smile as she listened to the cultist and watched the hold he had on the people in his thrall. She had to admit that the more he spoke the more fascinated she was by how he held the room’s attention, a skill like that had potential.
Leah in her current disguise stepped over to Con, "so, if she's watching us. She'll want to know why we're here and looking for her. How do we get her to come to us?" She said quietly, "I'll pay extra to hear this Federation Borg maker conspiracy too."
"The secret origins of the Borg are but one mystery that joining the Mutual will reveal," offered an assimilated child who may have been a day past puberty but she was not two. "I can give you a hint," she added with an eerie giggle, "it was not in the Federation."
Con resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I have no idea how many of them believe it, but there is an entire little section of their network devoted to 'exposing' the Federation's project for researching some topic about Borg and turning people into drones. I kind of checked out after the first couple of paragraphs. Conspiracy theories are not my thing, but I suppose I can get you a data dump of it if you want it and your pet copperhead hasn't already made one."
"Yes please." Leah nodded and placed the latinum in Con's hand. "Thanks."
As Song of Justice spoke, a sudden clatter interrupted his serene homily. The docking bay doors slid open with a grating screech, and in marched four hulking figures clad in mismatched armor. Their pallid skin and sunken eyes were unmistakable: Remans.
Their leader strutted at the head of the squad, a sneer etched across his scarred face. His voice was harsh and gravelly, and though his words were broadcast through the Universal Translators, the most colorful bits of his vocabulary came through in raw Rihannsu. "Kheh’sa irhhai!" he barked at the assembly, his tone one of disgust. "Look at this gathering of soulless automata and kllhenn-naik lapdogs. I can smell your weakness from across the station!"
"We welcome you to the Light of the Mutual, Turkuz, as always." Song of Justice smiled as if they had not just been insulted.
The leader called Turkuz stomped toward the center of the bay, shoving aside a low-ranking Disciple who had dared to step into his path. The smaller figure crumpled to the ground without so much as a protest. "Max Dedeker sends his regards," Turkuz sneered, "and his Talons to collect what's owed. Tribute. Make with it. Now. Before I start decorating this hole with bits of your precious Light.”
"Your shiny bits," he rasped. "Hand them over, or we start breaking things... and people."
Aeval, standing close to Mrazak, lowered her voice to a near-whisper. "These are the Talons, hired muscle for Shamus O'Tool who is himself Max Dedeker’s cruelest enforcer. If they’re here, they’re making a show of force on his behalf."
"We have nothing to give you," Song of Justice replied, his voice becoming more emploring, "for all that we have is shared. But you may join us in the Light—"
"Ch'iehh!" Turkuz spat the profanity with such venom that the Universal Translator didn’t even try. "Keep your Vulcan talk for someone who gives a vriha's ass. We’re not here for your Light or your Logic. We’re here for Max’s cut, and if you don’t pay, we’ll take it out of your cybernetic asses."
Turkuz didn’t wait for an answer to his own demands. He gestured to his comrades, who spread out across the docking bay, their boots clanging on the metal floor. Each of them began ransacking whatever they could lay their clawed hands on—rifling through alcoves, toppling small stacks of gear, and pulling frightened Disciples away from their sanctuaries.
One of the other Talons, a shorter yet no less intimidating Reman with a jagged scar running across his chin, leaned against a wall and gave a guttural laugh. His sunken eyes darted around, locking onto a group of Disciples cowering by a set of alcoves. "What about you, eh?" he growled. "Got something shiny to hand over? No? Then maybe the blinky light where your eye used to be."
"Well, this certainly complicates things..." Mrazak groused.
“We could simply stun them,” suggested T’Bela quietly. “Vulcan neck pinches, you know.”
“I think you’d be more effective with a flash bang than a neck pinch.” Rozreell murmured as she took a few slow and careful steps back towards her fellow Starfleet officers as tensions started to rise in the room. “Remans are rather photosensitive… and sometimes telepathic.”
Leah came back to the group too, as casually as she could. "Purr is right. But we should avoid combat if we can, sir." Wolf whispered, "I suggest we bribe our way out of this one."
"Great idea," Mrazak said sarcastically. "But with what? I don't think Federation credits go far around here."
One of the Talons approached. "You!" The Reman bared his bat-like fangs and pointed at Disciple Aeval. "Make with the shiny! All of you!"
Leah pulled out the small pouch of latinum she had with her, and reached out grabbed Mrazak's hand and planted the pouch in it. "That's all I've got with me. Any other bribery will have to be favors."
“For the love of…” Roz muttered as she unzipped the coveralls she had stolen to expose the camisole she wore underneath. She stuck her hand into her top as she fished for something. “Don’t look at my spots.” The Trill grumbled before switching sides then pulling out several gold pressed latinum strips. Rozreell added the warm latinum to Mrazak’s palm. “There. Don’t say that I’m not a team player.”
The Reman's sunken eyes gleamed greedily as Mrazak extended the handful of latinum strips toward him. His leader, Turkuz, came around and snatched the swag bag with a sharp motion. "Huh," he said with a sneer, holding up the glinting pieces to inspect them under the harsh lights. "Not much, but it’ll do... for now."
His comrades let out guttural laughs, a sound that grated on the nerves like rusty metal on glass. The Talons slowed their ransacking, their interest momentarily drawn by their trinkets.
"Now then—" Turkuz began, but his words cut off as his gaze shifted to Bao. His pale brow furrowed, his thin lips twitching in confusion. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, scanning the other end of the docking bay with an unsettling intensity.
"Wait a zekhun second," Turkuz growled. His Rihannsu profanity scraped through the translators as a jarring, guttural noise. "Wasn't he—" He jabbed a clawed finger toward Bao, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Weren't you just over there, hanging out on the other side of that shrine thingy?"
Aeval, who had been standing slightly behind Mrazak, stepped forward, her augmented gaze locking onto Turkuz. "All who walk the Light of the Mutual are as one," she said serenely. "You may have glimpsed another reflection of our unity. It is a truth the unenlightened often find confusing."
Turkuz gave Bao another long, calculating look before shaking his head and sneering. "Whatever you say, shiny-head. Just keep your tricks to yourself."
"Unity my ass," one of the other Talons barked, leaning against a nearby alcove. "These people gives me the creeps."
Turkuz sneered, but his hand tightened around the latinum. "We’ll be back. Next time, I expect more than a handful of zekhun scraps." He gestured for his Talons to follow him. "Come on. Let’s get out of this ch'ienchok junkyard before I lose my appetite."
Leah watched between the Talons and the surrounding crowd, looking for anything, anyone who seemed out of place, skittish, looking to get out in a hurry. In particular a certain female Lagashi someone. Wolf doubted that their target wouldn't have the heard about the entirely unsubtle commotion they have caused. What a black ops team...so professional.
One of the Disciples at the other end flipped up a hood. The obscuring of the face was punctuated by a flash of violet where the eyes should be. Another Disciple walked in front of them and by the time they'd passed, the hooded figure was gone.
"Huzza?" Leah blinked, wondering if her eyes deceived her. "Boss, possible eyes on mark. Other side where the group of Disciples, there were five, one removed the hood, could swear I saw a flash of purple. Blinked and they were gone. Four Disciples left. Permission to pursue?"
"Yes!" Mrazak hissed. "Follow and maintain a visual. The rest of us will fan out and cover exits. Do not let her escape!"
Leah nodded, "Copy. In pursuit." She tapped a small communicator in her ear, "be advised mark may have changed disguise, keep sharp. Wolf out." The blonde in disguise slipped into the crowd, following a Lagashi in disguise, hopefully.
Bao had been mostly silent through the exchange, continuing to sort through the network and piece together what Onaga had been up to. It had taken awhile to put together between the acts of the Lagashi muse, Koi, as he had been able to piece together and, eventually correlate them with a "Disciple Anata" which amused him more than it probably should have. With the necessary information in hand, however, he spoke into the comm. "Wolf, take the next right and circle. I think I have a sufficient lever to force her to speak with you and even if not that will put you in a good spot should we have to get messier." He paused a moment and had Sunny establish a flash message to Koi, sure that Onaga would get it. 翁長小百合, cease running. We are here about Mazikeen. Do not bother lying. You can either speak to Commander Wolf, who will succeed in tracking you down one way or another, or I can happily tell our mutual Reman acquaintances they actually saw two Lagashi, and let them know all about Disciple Anata and her activities.
"Copy, moving." Came from Leah as she slid past people to follow Bao's instruction. It was a hard surveillance. Lack of familiarity with the territory, only one source of aerial surveillance, Bao, shaky support team. That and the target was already in disguise and could easily change it and slip away further, so the Norwegian kept her eyes peeled.
After a moment, a message pinged back to Sunny, the onboard muse within Bao's cybernetic systems. そのプロジェクト名を公開ネットワークで言及するな、この馬鹿！ ("Do not mention that project name on an open network, you idiot!")
Along with the chastising came a location marker that identified a meeting point. It appeared Sayuri was willing to talk at a time and place of her choosing.
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