"The Siren's Call"

[Guest Sar'vek t'Jhiin]

Sar'vek was coming to a very great realization as they plodded along towards the Bajorans' wormhole. She was becoming very, very tired of Klinghanns'su. She was becoming very, very, very tired of being fired upon, and she was becoming even more tired of being blamed for attacking the pathetic little ships that had been attacking them. As if the Empire would attack such insignificant little targets. Na na. That was something the Klinghanns'su dogs would do, na the Chosen.

 

She let out a sigh, sitting back at her console and looking out towards the void. She knew that she had to have a little faith that they would make it home without incident, but faith wasn't exactly the easiest thing for her. Not after the last few, hellish months they'd spent in this elements-forsaken quadrant. Sar'vek knew they wouldn't be stuck here for much longer, io way or another, but it was still just... difficult... to accept that maybe, this time, they were actually going home. And if the temporally-confused wormhole aliens tried to stop them, she could always just pull out an ie'yakk and shoot the veruuls for thinking they had the rights to control a warbird of the Galae.

 

With their "eventual" return to ch'Rihan becoming less and less potential and more and more likely, Sar'vek was starting to plan for what would be the inevitable results of their homecoming. For io thing, there would likely be inquiry after inquiry. t'Jhiin wasn't especially concerned, given her clear lack of involvement in the mutiny, but with t'Rexan's recent animosity towards her, she feared what the woman might say out of spite.

 

Which left her a few different options. On io hand, she could always take the offensive, and bring accusations against the clone -- strike at her weak points before t'Rexan could take aim at her. On the other hand, something about that seemed veruulish to the scientist. Even if she knew that the creature occupying the command chair was a poor replica of the original, bitter old crone, having her "alive" had its benefits. The inquisitions were far less likely to focus on the fact and circumstances surrounding her original "y'ya" when they had her, well, na longer y'ya, spewing venom and her characteristic hatred before them all.

 

And yet something about the idea of just letting the matter pass gave Sar'vek pause. Something was percolating just at the edge of her mind, and she couldn't quite place what it was. It was the sort of half-formed, embryonic little thought that was probably best left ignored, yet for some reason, it just wouldn't go away. It was a thought that said that Sar'vek could exploit this... disaster... to her own, nearly-boundless ends. It was a thought that said that she could profit greatly from this, that she would gain power beyond even her twisted little dreams, if only she would seize this opportunity.

 

A part of her knew it was true. This entire mess was so convoluted that it would be easy to bend the truth to her own uses, and she knew that it wouldn't even take much "bending" at that. The truth was sordid enough that it needed little embellishment, just some polishing to ensure that Sar'vek would come out in the best light possible. And then...only the Elements knew what could come out of it. Power, certainly -- for her. If she played the cards correctly and cast suspicion in just the right places, the ship could be rid of the clone-thrai, its spoiled executive officer, the self-serving maenak, and the traitorous whore of a chief engineer, in one fell swoop. And with those four out of the picture... Elements.

 

It was a deeply seductive thought. A terrifying thought. Sar'vek recognized what sort of a thing it was; after all, such thoughts had come to her once before, with equally monumental results -- for her, at least -- as the outcome that she h'nah dreamed of for Talon. For herself.

 

But was she bold enough to seize upon the opportunity, if that was indeed what it was, and na the treacherous call of power, a siren's call to the unwary? Such dreams of intrigue had destroyed the greatest of women, women far better than she. Yet the allure was nearly irresistible; the rewards seemed boundless.

 

Her gaze lifted back up from her console, seeing the Oira -- and its commanders -- once more. Once they were past the infernal wormhole, she would give greater consideration to the devices taking form in her brain. And then, she would decide whether to heed the call of her ambition.