Resssk

[Chirakis 1]

Resssk

 

That Agency operatives engage exclusively in covert operations, cloak-and-dagger secrecy, stealth in the bowels of the galaxy with danger on every front is true to some extent. To the extent that popular holo-vids might lead you to believe is not true. It’s worse, and definitely less glorious, seldom turning out the way it was initially planned.

 

Such was the case with Chirakis Kirel, agency operative for Starfleet Intelligence Section 5. Her encounter with the second in command to one Ragor Tal, dubbed The Dark Lord by the media and Sataniel by his adversaries, had not turned out as initially planned, but the end result was somewhat acceptable. As Chirakis put it, “I survived. He did not,” and the encounter left her with significant physical damage, inflicted by his Katana in a last desperate blow down the length of her spine, mere seconds before her strategic pivot sent him over the precipice minus his head.

 

But the result was somewhat acceptable because Kirel’s target was Ragor Tal, himself, and she had been intercepted by his second. That Kirel was responsible for the subordinate’s death had, of course, angered the Dark Lord. That he died so unceremoniously, his body and the information he held lost forever, enraged Tal beyond his ability to contain it. His vows against her, her non-existent family, all her acquaintances, and all she represented had reached beyond Tal’s satellite groups to every criminal element in the sector. Of course there was a price on her head, and a sizable one, but it was one of many, and contrary to the other bounties, she had to be taken alive - for obvious reasons.

 

It’s always nice for an operative to know exactly what she’s dealing with.

 

The second, often preferred use of operatives is for non-covert activities. Working in the open may act as a deterrent, always better than the alternative. In this case, the presence of a known operative as commanding officer of a strategic station on the edge of nowhere waves a flag at organized crime, one that says, “I am here. You are there. Sit. Stay.” Add to that the prevailing notion in some circles that the Bajoran who belonged to House of Ghorr and had survived an encounter with Tal’s second-in-command was protected by a supernatural force that rendered her invincible, and you have the makings of an excellent presence on the edge of known space.

 

Until she is incapacitated in sick bay - which tends to negate the notion of invincibility.

 

Another presence was needed on the station, one just as formidable and just as obvious, and it came in the form of the Gorn operative, Resssk.

 

It’s difficult enough to ignore a Gorn, but more so if said Gorn is the only one on the station and one of the few of his species to sport the Gorn equivalent of an SI-5 uniform - minus the parts that made movement impossible, of course. As SubCommander tr’Jeth Dabi escorted the Staff Sergeant through the Midway, heads turned, discussions paused mid-sentence, patrons gawked, and children ran for cover.

 

His stature well over two meters, Resssk’s head greatly resembled prehistoric earth’s Tyrannosaurus Rex. His massive mandibles clacked often when he spoke, drawing attention to the jaws that could crush and devour anything it pleased with one neat chomp. Muscular arms ended in retractable razor-sharp claws, sturdy legs moved with agility, and his tail that served more as a weapon than for balance swished gently to and fro as he strode next to the SubCommander, occasionally thudding on the deck plates to punctuate a word or sentence. Add to that the inability of the universal translator to filter the elongated hiss that replaced the /s/ in Federation Standard, and he was easily the most terrifying sight on the station despite his calm, even nature.

 

A signal from Kirel’s subdermal coded transmitter had brought Resssk to Aegis. It was not altogether unexpected, but its sudden onset, with little warning, came as a tad more than disconcerting. A check with SI-5 Director Torak verified Kirel’s distress, and SSgt Resssk had altered his fighter’s course with best speed to Aegis.

 

Decades ago, the use of subdermal coded transmitters had met with considerable opposition from certain quarters who valued individual rights at any cost. Consequently, operatives were given the opportunity to decline the implant, a personal decision that cost countless lives, especially of newer, less experienced personnel.

 

Director Torak, a more discriminating section chief, had chosen wisely. Operatives under his purview were selected not only for experience and expertise, but for the presence of that microscopic chip that would alert him and members of a team when one was in distress or... but that is classified. In this case, the presence of Kirel in sickbay along with her unconscious state and significant other body system signals had triggered the distress call. That, and her command of a strategic station in a politically unpredictable area of space, was indeed cause for alarm.

 

Resssk’s overt presence on Aegis, whether he directly participated in its operation or not, was a direct warning to any adversary that might decide to either infiltrate the station or exact retribution for any offence the station commander might have committed.

 

Resssk paused at the door to the VIP ICU, unprepared for the sight of Kirel, face down and barely conscious post-surgery. He had already checked the area thoroughly, and was encouraged that his sweep had not gone unnoticed by SubCommander tr’Jeth Dabi. As he stepped to her side, the SubCommander graciously stepped back, but stayed close enough to intervene if needed. Again, an encouraging sign.

 

The Gorn began a guttural thrum, quiet and soothing. Kirel stirred, almost in reaction to it. His claws retracted, one hand turned her left arm gently toward his left. A momentary press of his against hers, and he returned her forearm to its resting place.

 

“Resssk,” she said, barely above a whisper.

 

“Yesss.”

 

Kirel gave a gentle snort, as much as she could muster in her present condition. “We must fix that universal translator.”

 

“Then how would you know it wasss I?”

 

“The stench.”

 

A low chortle echoed in the room. Kirel laughed, instantly regretting it. Several minutes of silence followed, accentuated by the beeping of various monitors and the soft pad of medical personnel moving just beyond the door.

 

“How long...” she began, taking a slow breath before finishing, “...have I...?”

 

“I have not ssspoken to the doctorsss. I will when we finish here.”

 

“And you? How... long?”

 

“Until I am no longer needed asss a presssenssse. Your SssubCommander takesss good care. I follow hisss lead asss to my dutiesss, but will be clossse until there is no more sssign of danger.”

 

“Danger?”

 

“Not your consssern. I am here.”

 

Resssk turned to Dabi, who waited patiently just outside the door. As soon as Kirel showed signs of sleep, he left to brief the SubCommander on the situation.

 

<<TBC in sim.>>