Evening The Score

Posted on Mon Nov 26th, 2012 @ 12:39pm by Eldren Tohr

Mission: Sections of the Delta Quadrant
Location: SB900 - Traders' Quarters

**** SB900 Traders’ quarters ****

“I’m very glad you’ve chosen again my humble shop.” Ivam said accompanying the last customer to the exit.

“And I’ll come here again on my next trip Ivam.” The dralian nodded in satisfaction . “I’m never disappointed by the goods I buy from you and I always spread word to my friends to come visit your shop if they can.”

“You’re too kind Rowr. If all customers were like you I would be retired with great riches now.”

Both laughed to Ivam’s joke and with a last salute the dralian vanished into the crowd that always characterized the promenade of the Traders’ Quarter on SB900.

The dralian had proven himself a real business this time, Ivam thought. Buying a great deal of the trader’s merchandise and especially the lot of Tulaberry wine he had kept in stock for a while now. A full and hard day had brought great satisfaction.

Grunting Ivam massaged his back to soothe the sudden fit of pain. “You’re not young anymore ol’friend.” He mumbled to himself limping to the counter to activate the command for the closure of the shop “Time to get home for some deserved rest”.


**** twenty minutes later ****

=^= Deck two hundred two =^= The computer voice advised as the turbolift doors opened. Grunting again Ivam Qarth stepped forward a limping slightly in his slow gait.

“It’s better get to medical one of these days or I’ll be forced to get a stick to walk…” he mumbled to himself. “This time is worse in the past, perhaps a bit of analgesic is in order.”

Breathing deeply with the effort Ivam finally arrived to his lodging, the doors swooshing open to let him enter. The room was bathed in darkness, and Ivam’s shadow projected itself on the space defined by the light coming from the corridor.

“Computer lighting to eighty-five percent.” The trader stated gruffily entering the room.

The doors swooshed close plunging the room into total darkness again. The only faint light available was coming from the portal, thank to the hundreds stars shining there and a quarter of the planet Archadia visible below.

“Computer.” Ivam said, louder this time disappointment clear in his tone “I said lighting to eighty-five percent. Are you going to comply or should I forward an official request to the admiral of this starbase??” with a few steps he came close enough to lean on his desk, on the other hand he knew perfectly his qaurters even in the absence of light.

More instants passed in total silence.

“So what!? Computer? Is there a malfunction??” Ivam snorted rolling eyes to the roof but no reassuring chirp or responsse from the computer were to be heard.

It was then that he noticed a faint glitter in the darkness: on the other side of the room at about six foot height, close where he knew the bathroom door stood even if he was, at the moment, unable to see it.

“Who’s there?” Ivam inquired. The disappointment completely vanished from his voice, quickly substituted by worry. A queer sensation took over him. Maybe his eyes were playing him a weird trick?

Much to his dismay his fears were confirmed in the moment a figure stepped forward almost coalescing from darkness stopping close to the portal so that a shady outline was visible to him.

“It’s me.” Tohr said leveling the disruptor at chest height. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“W-who are you?? What are you doing in my home?” The trader stuttered backing away from the now visible bajoran.

“I’m the solution to your guilt come from afar.” The bajoran grinned, the scar on his face in the dim light making his look hideous.

“I-I have no money here. But I can give you other things of value… I have jewels in my shop.” Ivam tried, lips suddenly dry.

“I’m not here for money.” Tohr stated advancing one more step towards the trader “I’m here to even the score.”

“I don’t know what do you want…” Ivam said almost giving in to desperation. Turning he sprang for the doors totally oblivious of the pain in the leg he felt until moments before.

The green beam of the disruptor lighted the room appearing between the weapon and the doors, cruelly skewering Ivam’s left thigh in between.
With a scream borne of terrible pain the trader fell face forward to the floor as the room filled with the smell of burnt flesh.

Slowly Tohr came closer to the moaning bundle on the floor, kneeling at his side. “It is time to exact due justice.” He whispered to Ivam’s ear.

“I’ve never seen you! I’ve never had any business with bajorans in my life…” Ivam said, voice broken by pain as Tohr watched his pathetic try to crawl towards the doors.

“Oh, really you never had.” Tohr replied derisively, planting a knee on the trader’s back and shifting his weight to keep him still while with the left hand reached for an object into his belt pouch.

“Indeed I think you had business with us, Ivam Qarth, and in the worst of ways. Or should I address you more precisely as Gul Markat?”

“You’re a madman. I don’t know this name nor the person that owns it. What are you doing? Ow!!...” Ivam grunted when the needle pierced his skin.

“I’m about to find out.” Tohr whispered pressing the syringe on his shoulder. “A small sample of your blood will be enough, and this little technoligical miracle will do the rest.”

With the last words Tohr stuck the needle into a small instrument as big as his palm provided with a luminescent display. The device whirred and flashed for a few instants returning a complete mapping of cellular structure of the subject.

Tohr furrowed his brow as pictures with faces scrolled quickly on the display to the side of the cellular map. Suddenly one of the faces flashed twice and enlarged to fill up the small screen. The picture of a grinning cardassian was clearly visible now.

“This isn’t your lucky day Gul Markat. Surgery may have done a great job on you but your genetic heritage cannot be changed. The efforts of Kon-Mah operatives to get it have not been in vain after all”

Markat’s eyes widened as he realized the full meaning of the bajoran’s words: “I surrender. I want to be brought to the commander of SB900. The occupation of Bajor has long since ended you have no rights---*”

Markat’s rambling ended abruptly when his face slammed on the floor.

“You’ve already been sentenced to death a long time ago.” Tohr bellowed “No one can help you now just as no one could help the bajorans fallen into your hands! In the labor camp you commanded… Where you sent countless people to their death by starving, wanton abuse and summary execution.”

“Go on then you bastard. Your people are weak and had what they deserved… Enslaved to be led by their betters and treated like the trash you are…” the garbled words spat through blood and broken teeth in a last outburst of cardassian pride.

Eldren Tohr smiled with Markat’s heartfelt statement “That is what I wanted to hear. This weakling is going to put an end to your predicament.” The bajoran replied yanking Markat’s head back and slinging the garotte around his neck with a swift move. A gurgle escaped Markat’s mouth as the hold on his throat tightened.

“Rest assured that I’ll find out all of your other comrades hiding away in their muddy holes like you. Should it take the rest of my life.” Tohr’s last words pronounced not without effort as, despite any pride, each living being refuses to die quietly, forcing the bajoran into a struggle to keep control of the cardassian desperate attempt to free himself.

“They’re crying your name can’t you hear?” Tohr mocked him “Can you hear them as I can in my every sleepless night??”

Advanced age, lack of physical conditioning and especially the overbearing hate of your opponent, aren’t going to give you many chances. So it was that Ivam Qarth the trader, formerly Gul Markat killer of thousands, groped desperately to the wire strangling him to no avail.

His attempts becoming weaker and weaker as the seconds passed and stars, not the ones from the portal, began to fill his eyes announcing the blackness that was soon to come.

Twenty-five seconds… Maybe thirty before Markat stopped struggling, finally prey to unconsciousness. Through clenched teeth Tohr tightened his hold even more two minutes, three… Four.

Letting go of the garotte Tohr stood then, drying his sweated forehead with the back of the hand his breath quickened by the effort. Watching the body at his feet his mind coursed back to times past to places and faces of people that were no more. Faces that kept haunting his sleep without pause.

“I hope you’re at rest now.” He told gravely looking out of the portal.

Taking out a padd from the belt pouch he quickly scrolled down a list of names until Gul Markat flashed under his finger, a grin lined his lips.

< DELETE >

The padd found its way back into the pouch. Quietly Tohr stepped over the body and picked up the disruptor. The wire he left half-knotted around the corpse’s neck. Moving closer to Markat’s desk he sat on the chair and activated the terminal, it was not long before the swollen greenish face appeared on the screen.

“I have fixed that business of my own. I’m ready now to take fully care of our deal.”

“It was about time” the green faced foreigner responded. “I’m eager to have my piece. Once it is delivered you’ll have your reward. All of it.”

Tohr nodded in acknowledgement “The piece will be delivered as per schedule, no worries about it. I have to cut the transmission now, before someone here get suspicious.”

The image on the screen blinked before fading to black.

Tohr stood from the desk and walked to the doors who swooshed open. He cast a last glance to the room then exited to the corridor checking his weapon. Before the doors could hiss close again he threw the disruptor inside.

With a quick stride he reached the nearest turbolift: “Deck 532” He stated upon entering. The gentle hum of the moving turbolift filled his ears and he imagined in his mind the high-pitched sound of the overloaded disruptor and the powerful blast that would have destroyed the room of Gul Markat along with his corpse and any evidence in the ex-trader’s room.



***************
Eldren Tohr
Closing suspense accounts