A Cardassian's Future

Posted on Wed Nov 25th, 2015 @ 6:59pm by Lieutenant Bajun Julisa

Mission: Further Challenges
Location: Bajor 2360

Bajor 2360, Daltek, Darhe’el’s Quarters *

The shower, with Darhe’el watching with avid interest, had been humiliating; Darhe’el made a bad situation worse when he’d joined her, clearly intent on consummating their tryst before dinner, right there in the shower. Fortunately, with a few tricks she’d learned from Niro, Julisa had convinced the Cardassian to take the matter into his own hands. Doing so had left him drained and, after wrapping himself in a light robe, he’d taken a brief nap.

Which would have - should have - given Julisa a moment to get away, but he’d used handcuffs to secure her by a wrist to the bedpost. She had had no choice but to stay beside him and wait till he was awake again. She hadn’t sat idly, of course, but his uniform was across the room, and it seemed that he kept nothing sharp or pointy within arms’ reach of the bed. Out of options for the moment, she’d sat and thought of Solis.

A light snore came from Darhe’el, followed by another so deep it startled him awake. He looked around, then sat up and rubbed his eyes. It was then he remembered Julisa and a slow smile spread over his face. “Short naps are great,” he commented. “Really get the energy flowing again. By the way, neat little trick there in the shower, though I’m sure it was better for me than you.” He slipped off the bed and dropped his robe to the floor. He stood utterly bare and she could see the beginnings of a gut settling around his middle.

She played her part, “I just wanted to watch you. I suppose you watch often enough. Surely being watched is a different feeling?” She just barely held in her gag reflex.

“Oh very much so. You’ve got spunk. I like that.” He grinned at her just as the chime at his front door rang. The smile turned to a scowl. “Apparently my staff has an overwhelming desire to lose their hearts tonight.” He scooped up the robe, slipped it on and tied it. “I’ll be right back.” He hurried out as the door chimed again.

Julisa pulled at the steel manacle holding her to the bedpost. “Come on, Prophets! Where’s my help?” Surely, by now, by her reckoning, Darwin would have done his best to rescue her, so where was he? How much longer would she need to stall? Voices in the other room rose and she wondered if Darhe’el was going to bring whomever it was into the bedroom. She gathered a sheet around her and recalled Darhe’el telling her that Darwin had been shot and left for dead. Would there be a rescue?

“You detected what??” His voice rose as he asked the question, easily reaching Julisa. “How is that possible??” The reply was too low to be heard and now Darhe’el’s words were all Cardassian.

Julisa knew that Darhe’el likely believed she didn’t know Cardassian. Despite the longevity of the Occupation and because the Bajoran children weren’t formally educated, many Bajorans didn’t know the language of their oppressors. Julisa, however, did. Her mother had made sure she studied it. Now, she listened in on the conversation and wondered about the weapon being tested. She gasped as she heard the unknown speaker say that they’d detected a ship coming through a rift caused by the weapon. Darhe’el continued yelling for another few minutes, ordering the other Cardassian to see to it that the weapon was tested again and stating that failure would be met with someone’s head on a pike.

There were no more objections and Darhe’el ordered the soldier to track down that ship. Moments later, the door closed and he returned to the bedroom. Noting the sheet he smiled, but it was a chilly one now.

“Suddenly modest?”

“I was concerned your guest might intrude further on your hospitality,” Julisa said. “That sounded like trouble. Are the rebels uprising?” She wished that were the case; she wished she could have faith that the Prophets would bring Darwin, or someone like him, here.

“My guests know that setting foot in my bedroom is certain death.” Darhe’el looked her up and down and now his smile faded. “No, the spineless rebels are off hiding among the hills...or something.” He waved that aside as of no consequence. “My men did, however, bring me some interesting news. Some of our weapons testing had an unusual side effect and opened a rift. They detected a ship coming through. I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that?” He knew very well she was from a strange ship since they’d been caught coming out of it by a team looking for rebels. Perhaps this explained a few things.

She pulled at the metal cuff again, clanging it against the bedpost. “Actually, I don’t. I was on that ship, but I haven’t any idea about a rift or coming through anything.”

“So you want me to believe that you have no idea how your ship arrived here on Bajor?” He moved on into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? Give me your name.”

“Undo this cuff first,” she said, “And allow me to dress, then we’ll talk like civilized people.”

His gaze swept over her once more, sorry to see her covered, but he could be reasonable, at least in his own opinion. He rose and went to the closet. Reaching in, he pulled out a silk robe and tossed it to her.

“Give me your name, then we’ll talk about the cuff.”

She pulled the robe onto one arm then pulled it around to cover her nakedness as best as she could. What name could she give him? Her real name would make her, the child her, a target once Darwin, Six and she went back through the rift. This man still had three years of power left; the Occupation still had another nine. “I told you I’m a Starfleet Officer. Li Hawke,” she gave the name without thinking and only after realized that she’d given it because she’d just seen Lucius Hawke. She hoped that her use of Li’s name didn’t skew the future in any way. “Hawke adopted me when I was orphaned.” She jiggled the cuff again and held out her wrist to him.

“Oh very well.” Darhe’el unlocked the cuff, but kept it in his hand. “You sit right there and do not move unless I tell you to,” he ordered. He pulled a chair out from his desk and sat facing her but out of arm’s reach. “Alright. Li Hawke. Where are you from? And when?”

“When?” She frowned. “Why do you think I’m from a when? That rift could be from a different universe. Either way, I told you the truth: I know nothing about the rift or coming through one. I was on that ship as the prisoner of a pirate. He had stunned me and my two companions and we were out whenever the ship landed here.”

“I see. What do you intend to do here? You realize the likelihood of your friend living are remote.” Darhe’el leaned back in his chair as he watched her.

Standing, she walked around the bed to the side farthest from him. “Darwin. His name is Darwin. I intend to do nothing here, Darhe’el. Including you.”

He shrugged slightly and laughed. “That remains to be seen. I might have something better I can get from you. Tell me, Miss Hawke. What year is it where you are from?”

Closing her eyes briefly, she considered how to answer that. “2388. Twenty-eight years into a future. Perhaps yours, perhaps someone else’s.”

“I see. That explains your unusual uniform and how someone like you is an officer instead of being someone’s mattress here. Were you alive now, here, I suspect you’d rarely see the light of day. What happens here? The occupation? Apparently we were not successful in wiping out all the Bajoran vermin.”

She clenched her teeth, surprised by the anger that welled up. “I already told you when you’re going to die, Darhe’el,” Julisa taunted him.

”Yeah, yeah...I know...three years. That’s not a big concern.” That was a lie of course but he didn’t want her to know how deeply it did concern him. “What about this planet? And what of the Federation? They’ve kept their dainty little hands off so far but I am suspicious. Are they going to step in?”

“I can’t tell you that,” she replied. “I can tell you that Bajorans go on living long after you’re dead and buried. You and yours - there’s nothing left of you in the future. You’re a sad footnote in history texts.” A lie, but he’d gotten her riled up and she was going to inflict some mental anguish on him even if it killed her.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t believe that and --” A pounding on his door came, along with shouting. “You’ll also excuse me while I go kill someone.” He rose and hurried out to the door. This time, they were not allowed in. The voice, however, was loud and spoke in rapid, guttural Cardassian. What he said got a growl and cursing from Darhe’el.

This Cardassian dialect was one Julisa didn't know well and had a hard time catching because the speaker was so excited. The words she did catch, though, made her chuckle. They were talking about Niro's ship and strange growths on it; she recalled Six injecting nanites into the ship's systems - obviously they were doing their job and making the ship better. She frowned as the voice rose and described how the ship had defended itself, killing one of their officers. What effect would that have on Darhe'el's mood?

There were times that modern construction seriously pissed off Darhe’el. It was impossibly to let off steam with a good door slam when every damn door in Gallitep slid closed on its own. Instead, he kicked it good and hard and stomped back into his bedroom.

He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “So, tell me, how is it that your ship can strike down a warrior simply because he touched it?” He leaned far too much into Julisa’s personal space and roared at her. “Explain yourself!”

Leaning back as much as she could without yielding a step to him, Julisa shook her head. "Special Bajoran tech," she lied.

He took her face in his hand, pinching in her cheeks as his fingers dug in. “Your ship just killed one of my best men! How about I take your Resistance friend in repayment?”

"Maybe your man should have left other people's things alone!", she sassed him, earning her a hard backhanded hit against her cheek. She fell backward onto the bed, holding her cheek. "You promised that if I cooperated, the Bajoran would be fine. You said nothing about the ship cooperating!"

Darhe’el was breathing rapidly as he tried to regain his self-control. “I promised he would stay alive,” he reminded her. “It occurs to me that I can have my cake and eat it too. He will live but if there’s any other little secrets or booby traps you feel I should know about, now is the time to tell me if you want him to be able to walk at all if he gets out of here.”

The attorney side of Julisa's brain parsed that ultimatum out. "You're assuming that I know about any secrets or traps. The owner of that ship is still out there in the forest. He could have set up hundreds of traps." She started to scoot away to the other side of the bed; Darhe'el caught her by an ankle.

“You’re not going anywhere! Except maybe to a cell." He whipped the cuff and chain from the end of the bed and clamped it around her ankle. Then he turned without a word and marched into the bathroom and closed the door.

"Augh!" She sat up and desperately tried to loosen the cuff; Darhe'el had closed it tightly around her ankle - so much so that the metal dug into her Achilles' tendon. "You bastard!", she complained at the closed door. Abandoning her attempt to undo the cuff, she stretched and pulled at the short chain and was barely able to put her fingertips on the chair he'd been sitting in. Stretching more, she eased it closer, tiny bit by tiny bit. Moments later, she had hold of it and was ready to brandish it as a weapon.

Inside the bathroom, Darhe’el splashed his face with cold water in an attempt to cool his temper. He had to settle down, he knew, or he’d kill her. Not that it mattered - she was just a Bajoran and there were plenty more where she came from and who knew their place. He gripped the edge of the counter and took several deep breaths. Better. Finally, he dried his face and pressed the panel to open the door.

“Alright, Bajoran. I’m coming out and let’s try this again, shall we?” He stepped through the door into the bedroom.

She appreciated the warning even though it gave her another second to reconsider what she was about to do. If she missed, or her swing wasn’t hard enough or she was still cuffed to the bed when he recovered, then she was likely going to die in an unpleasant way. She hesitated a moment longer than she intended then swung the chair leg as hard as she could.

And missed. Almost. Her blow cracked the chair leg against Darhe’el’s shoulder before the end of the makeshift club smacked him in the head. She’d given him half-a-second to react and it was going to cost her. Her blow angered him more than it injured him. She did, however, hang onto the club and, though he tried to turn and snatch it from her, she got in another blow, one that bloodied his cheek and nose. Both of them were yelling as they tangled and Julisa shove the chair leg into his belly.

He bellowed aloud and grabbed her wrist in a vise grip. He bent it unmercifully, but her knee to his groin took his strength away in an instant. All he could do was wheeze as tears flowed down his cheeks. “You’ll...pay…..” he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I’m sure I will,” she said and brought the chair leg down one more time. She didn’t miss this time and he slumped to the floor. Pausing a moment, Julisa winced as her wrist and ankle complained about the abuse from Darhe’el; the cuff around her ankle had bitten into her skin and she was bleeding. Cursing the filthy Cardassian, she checked his pulse then checked his pockets. He had a pulse; the key to the cuffs wasn’t in his pockets. She tried to recall where he’d put them after he’d opened the cuff earlier and let her wrist loose. She would have sworn he’d dropped them in his pocket.

“Shit...,” she muttered, coming up empty. She checked the floor, but didn’t find them, and knew from her earlier search that there was nothing close by that she could use to pick the lock. Briefly, Julisa debated changing history by beating the man to death with the chair leg.

***************
Lt. Bajun Julisa

Gul Darhe’el