The Temptation of Trina

The Players: Trina, Sarna, Delphine, Siika

Marshal's Office -- Tier City: Valentine's World

The Marshal's office in Tier is located not terribly far from the commercial district, but far from being a centerpiece of the area. It is tucked among a few warehouses that are used for market storage and is rather non-descript, the only way to really identify it as any sort of official building is by asking the locals. The thick durasteel doors separate the interior and exterior, within which can be found what one might expect on a Rim planet. A pair of cells with appropriate restraints and security fields, a desk that is linked to a console for accessing news and report filing and a rather comfortable chair that looks like it may have seen better days. The ceilings are low due to a reinforcement layer found there and the walls are thick to the exterior turning the area into a pseudo bunker. A security door leads further into the offices, into an area that serves as the living space for the Marshal.

In the living area, a simple layout exists with three rooms none of which are large. The first leads into a living area where a sofa and chair exist for comfort sitting along with a vid screen. Cooking apparatus and storage is located in the corner. The next room is the sleeping area where a rather large bed and dressers that need straightening exist and the third serving as the personal area.

Obvious exits:

ut leads to Ward Bazaar -- Tier City: Valentine's World.

In spite of her words to Siika about the unimportance of The Envoy, Trina could not shake the curiosity. She knew he was a Nahrahm. She knew she probably saw him on that fateful day... night?... on Orum's Bastion. But what would it be to look in his eyes? To see the man that was ultimately responsible for her getting shot?

What would The Regency think of getting more intel on this figure serving The Dissidents?

Putting on her best, I'm-Supposed-To-Be-Here face, Trina enters the Marshal's office. Recon didn't require stealth in this phase. Recon meant finding the cameras. The loose spots in the security. The open ports that could be exploited, so that personal information on the natives of Valentine's World might be extracted by someone with Trina's particular set of skills. In this case, Recon also meant looking for ways of establishing plausible deniability if things should take a nasty turn down the road.

"All in a day's work," Trina whispered.

It's midday and a quiet has settled over the office where the three ladies have taken up temporary residence. After the danger and excitement of the mission, Sarna is glad to be back safe in Tier City. She'd tended to the sleeping Lady Aurelia, still recovering from Force shock in her bunk, but was reassured the young woman would be all right in time.

At the moment she's sitting at the desk with her bare feet crossed on top of it, hunched down in the chair with one of Lincoln's hats covering her face as she rocks slowly back and forth, dozing off.

When the door opens suddenly, she peeks from underneath the brim, then blinks in surprise. "Trina!" she calls out with a slow smile. "What a surprise to see you here."

There are several cells in the Marshal's station, one of which has been adopted by Delphine Aurelia, Acolyte of the Enclave. She slumbers there now in the midday warmth. Her fair features are serene, cheeks healthy and pink, dark lashes resting upon them. Someone has combed out the golden length of her hair that had become disheveled when the //Vindicator// had been vented briefly. Her white cloak is hung on the open cell door, fluttering in the breeze from the open door with sounds of the ongoing festival drifting in and lightly invading Delphine's dreams.

As for Siika, she's not her usual self to be sure. There is glitter on her face, golden sparkles strewn about in an haphazard manner. She's stripped her clothes down to reveal a dark toned skinsuit that covers her entire body up to the neck, and her metal exoskeleton is fully revealed in a manner that mirrors and frames her bones, giving her mobility. She's snoozing in a haphazard manner upon one of the couches, and her breath reeks of booze. Someone, it seems, doesn't have the best of coping mechanisms.

At the sound of Sarna's voice, Trina drops her facade. She stops just inside the office, her eyes widening.

"Oh!" Trina says. "You're... I thought this was the Marshal's office?"

Chewing her lower lip, Trina turns around and looks back at the door she'd entered, then around the rest of the room at the trappings of local law enforcement. She casts a glance into the cells and does a double-take when she sees Delphine Aurelia slumbering inside. What in the stars had Delphine done to get herself in such trouble?

Finally her gaze finds Siika on the couch. It's then the scent of alcohol registers, and a mixture of emotions war over control of Trina's features. Concern wins out over anxiety, though the battle was far from single-sided. She steps over and kneels next to the couch, her hand moving towards and then away from Siika, uncertain as to whether or not to disturb her friend.

"What-" Trina starts, then straightens, backing away from Siika. She lowers her voice and directs it at Sarna. "What the hell happened? Are you the sheriff now?"

The young girl at the desk stands up, removing the hat and giving it an amused look. "No, no, we're just staying here for now. The marshal's on patrol. Do you need to file a report?" Sarna chuckles and gestures toward the cell where Delphine is sleeping as peacefully as a golden-haired angel. "The bunk in there is as good as any, right? And she needed some sleep. Don't worry, we didn't lock her in." Her laughter fades as Trina moves over to examine Siika, and she shuffles her bare feet nervously on the floor. "We had a bit of an adventure," she admits in a softer voice.

Something nibbles at the edge of Delphine's consciousness. Images from Orum's Bastion, the casino, and fleeing with the Envoy's droid and the injured Trina to Siika's ship. And something - a sense of urgency and a feeling of duty to return to the waking world. She stirs and rolls to one side, making a soft groaning sound. Her eyes slowly open but she just lays there. For now her head hurts too much and there's a spinning sensation in her brain.

From Siika, there comes a slight grumble. A metal-laced hand rises to rub at her face, before collapsing into her lap, still lost in drunken stupor.

When Sarna says the word "angel," Trina turns and looks at Siika again. Delphine may wear white, but the only one in the room with an actual halo is the cybered woman laying on the couch, covered in glitter.

Sidling around the desk, looking towards Delphine's cell, Trina addresses Sarna. "What sort of adventure? I heard there was a commotion just outside, but I didn't catch the details. Was that it?"

As Trina speaks, she leans against the desk, one hand behind her back. She fixes Sarna with her mismatched eyes while the hand behind her back opens, then opens again, invisible lines of data reaching out to access the computer's data port. Maybe her friends would be okay with her trying to steal data. Maybe they wouldn't. Either way, Trina would give them the gift of plausible deniability if she could.

At this point, Sarna hesitates, remembering some of the details shared with her previously, and she glances between Trina and the exit, frowning. "Yeah," she says slowly. "I had a bounty hunter after me, and they helped me shake him. That's all." She clears her throat and sits back down in the chair, leaning back and folding her arms behind her head as if she owns the place. "So why do you need to see the Marshal?"

Before Trina can have a chance to answer, she senses the stirring of Delphine in the cell nearby as the Acolyte's mind awakens, and sees her rolling over on the bunk. "It looks like Lady Aurelia might be waking up," she notes quietly.

Slowly Delphine sits up. The bunk is not as comfortable as the Acolyte would prefer but it was a port in a storm these days. Her hands clasp her forehead and she puts her elbows on her knees. "I should -not- do that again..." she mumbles. Channeling and connecting with such a dark Entity has taken a toll on the Enclave representative's both physically and psychically. Eventually she moves to stand, grasping the strut holding the bunk to the wall to pull herself to her feet. Her feet shuffle as she moves through the cell door. To no one in particular she says, "I hope there's caf..."

The mere mention of caf causes Siika to stir. Her body curls in on itself, gloved finger grasping stockinged toes, and her body makes a growing sound. "Caf," she murmurs quietly. "Stim stick. Pocket." Still, with eyes closed, she begins fumbling for her shirt, which lay nearby and holds some of those stim-sticks she's come to rely on. "Booze was a mistake," she groans. "Can't .... handle it..."

The computer resists Trina's attempts to convince it that Trina belonged in the data. Some security systems were more rigorous than others, but law enforcement usually employed better encryption, even on quaint places like Valentine's World. Trina remains leaning on the desk, trying to keep her expression neutral while part of mind worked at the code, another part of her trying to remain aware of her friends.

Her friends. Siika's request for the stim stick pulls at Trina. She could go over and help, but that would mean abandoning the hack before it really began. Would Trina find another opportunity like this to seek The Envoy? Trina glances towards Delphine, stirring in her cell. Given what Delphine and Siika must know about her, would they give Trina another chance?

And yet...

Trina closes her hand and turns to step back to Siika's side. She leans down, fishes for the stim stick in Siika's shirt, and places it in Siika's groping hand.

"Here."

Something about Trina's distracted attention pricks at Sarna's suspicion, but the groan coming from Delphine followed by Siika's desperate plea for caf and stim-sticks draws her own gaze away, and as Trina goes to check on the regretful Siika, the girl moves to a corner table where the pot of caf sits hot and waiting. Sarna pours out two big mugs, handing one off to Trina to give to her friend, and padding across the floor to Delphine's cell. "I know you must have a nasty headache," she says as she gently cups Delphine's hands around the mug and then rests a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Here. Don't move too fast."

The blonde woman continues shuffling towards where Lincoln has set up his refreshments station but is thankfully intercepted by Sarna. Then out of the corner of her eye she catches a glimpse of Trina by the comms. "Oh!" she says in a soft exclaim so as to not disturb her own head. "Trina! I...I was dreaming about you. Weird..." she says, then takes the offered mug and stares down into it. After a moment and a log sip of car, she gives drunken Siika the once over with her seaglass gaze, then Delphine asks Sarna, "How long was I out?"

Gloved fingers curl around the offered stim-stick, with metal exoskeletal bones bending to take it in hand. Siika's eyes pry open to the smallest measure, and she draws enough strength to snap her fingers, lighting the stim-stick in a spark of black and glittery purple sparks.

The item is drawn toward black painted lips, and with a slow drag, Siika sucks upon the life giving stimulant that very well may cut through the haze with which her otherwise crippled body poorly handles alcohol.

A fresh jolt of energy courses through her body, and she bends herself slightly upright in the couch, though still curled up in a pitiful state, exposed as she is. The young woman has a slender, nearly emaciated frame, something oft hidden by her clothing but now revealed by her virtual nakedness. Eyes pry open, and she peers out beneath her drunken gaze, lagged by how the alcohol has wracked her diseased body.

"T... Trina?" she asks, and tenderly sucks on the stim-stick again. "Dank ferrik, I hope I didn't make out with Genevieve.... //everyone// makes out with her...."

In the back of Trina's mind, a small voice berates Trina for being soft. Weak. The mission should have come first. She should have stolen the data and left these people to recover on their own. What was she thinking? Who did she think she was?

Trina draws in a deep breath, silencing the inner monologue at the same time she inhales the scent of the offered cup of caf. An oft bitter drink, it was amazing how just the smell alone was sometimes enough to sweeten her attitude. With Siika sitting more upright, Trina holds the cup out for the cybered girl to take when she's ready.

Trina turns and addresses Delphine. "Dreaming about me? I hope it wasn't too embarrassing." Trina smiles at her own little joke before turning back to Sarna. "Who put a bounty on you? How... uh... how much are you worth?" She winks.

Sarna glances up at the ceiling as she calculates. "Well, almost twenty-four hours, including the ride home," she replies to Delphine. "How's your head? When you're feeling better I'd love to..." She pauses, glancing over her shoulder at the others, and goes on in a much quieter voice, "I'd love to talk to you about what happened. What you saw." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, conveying some of her concern about Trina along the quiet link the two have learned to share.

At Trina's question, Sarna turns and gives a genuine laugh. "Well, he isn't after me to collect a bounty. Just doesn't like my face, I guess." She contorts her expression playfully, then guides Delphine toward one of the empty couches. "I think you should sit. Who's hungry? I can go see what Kira left to eat around here."

Delphine accepts Sarna's ministrations. When the teen lowers her voice she gives a soft smiles and nods as much as her spinning brain will let her. "Of course..." She confirms the future conversation mentally as well. She grins a bit as poor Siika tries to work out her hangover. "Looks like I missed a party, too." Then she looks at Trina and recalls her words when she was out of it with pain after being shot in that spacer's cantina. A look of concern for the mech fighter crosses her face while she lets Sarna guide her to the couch. "Mmmm...yeah, I am starving come to think of it," Delphine smiles wanly. "If you find anything, all praise to Kira!" She looks over to Trina and adds. "She's Lincoln's mom. And yeah...it turns out the hunter would rather hunt us than any actual bounties."

Rubbing her face again, Siika catches sight of glitter upon her gloved hand. A groan escapes her chest, and she flops back into her couch, defeated. "I //did// make out with her." The cup of caf is forgotten, and a half smoked stim stick ends up perched haphazardly upon an outstretched knee as the young woman once again drifts into a drunken stupor. "I'll... never live it.... down...."

zzzzzzzzzz

When the cybered girl falls back onto the couch, a few sparkles of glitter take flight, wafting through the gentle circulation in the direction of Trina. Careful of the hot cup of caf still in her hand, Trina backs away quickly, trying to avoid the inevitably permanent craft supply. Chrome was one thing. Glitter was another.

In spite her best efforts, some of the dark liquid spills over the cup and runs down her hand. A spike of fear shoots through Trina, a ghost reaction from her former life. Silly Cyborg. Did you think the hot drink was going to burn your _skin_?

Shaking her head, Trina takes an uncautious drink from the cup, then hisses. Whatever else has changed, she can still burn the roof of her mouth.

"I don't see anything wrong with your face," Trina says, keeping her tone flat and her face straight. "I'm sure it's very pretty, where you're from."

"Yeah, as soon as we got back, Siika was out the door. I guess Genevieve gave her a call?" Sarna might be joking, or she might not be. She purses her lips as she looks at Siika's made-over, glittery face, sympathy in her gaze as her friend slips back into slumber. She's reminded of Siika and Delphine's concern for Trina's injuries, and as Sarna makes her way to the cupboards, she's about to inquire into Trina's current state of recovery. But instead the cybernetically enhanced older woman's comment makes the young girl wrinkle her nose in mock offense. "I wouldn't know. I've never even been where I come from," Sarna sighs woefully. She produces a fresh loaf of bread and a thick wedge of cheese from the cooling unit, and begins slicing up and arranging pieces on a tray that she places on a small table before Delphine. "Here, snack on this for now. I'll see if there's something more substantial I can whip up. I know you must be as sick of nerf kebabs as I am."

"No, this is fine, Sarna, thank you...and yeah, I'm definitely over the kebabs!" The time had probably arrived for them to find another food vendor, for variety's sake. Delphine reaches for the tray and takes a bite from a chuck of bread, then nibbles on some cheese as she looks over to Trina. "Well...you seem back to yourself. Last time I saw you...oof! You were in bad shape. Luckily we got you out of that dive and onto Siika's ship where she patched you up..." She nearly blurts out what she's dying to know, but holds back from asking her directly about Kalden. Instead she manages to tact her way into asking, "So...you got yourself healed up the rest of the way, huh?"

_Back to her old self._ Trina looks over her shoulder at the slumbering Siika as she thinks about the abandoned data port on the Marshal's desk. Her old self would have had different priorities. Wouldn't she?

Trina turns back to Delphine and rolls her left shoulder. She raises her left hand and wiggles her fingers. "Siika did a great job. Almost as good as new."

Turning back to Sarna, Trina sighs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... you're very pretty, and we're lucky to have you. Wherever you're from, it's their loss that you're here and not there."

To show the seriousness of her words, Trina steps further away from the desk and the still tempting data port and reaches to take one of the smaller slices of bread and stuffs it in her mouth.

As Sarna goes back to see what else she can produce from the cupboards, she glances over her shoulder, curious about whatever is Delphine is too excited to come out and say to Trina. But then Trina is apologizing to her, much to Sarna's surprise, and she shrugs her slight shoulders. "Oh, don't worry about it. I've got far more important things to worry about than whether people think I'm pretty or not." Still, she is a teenager, and she has to force her mind to veer off that awkward train of thought... and she finds herself remembering Siika's lament about Trina's debt and attachment to the Regency, instead.

Wisely, the young girl keeps her mouth shut on that subject. She goes to work heating up a pot of stew from leftovers found in the cooler, stirring occasionally as she listens to their conversation. "Something hot will be good," she says more to herself than anyone else, fretting quietly and wondering how it is she's the one in the healthiest state of mind and body right now.

"Oh so you didn't need more treatment. So...does that mean you've been on Valentine's World this whole time?" she says, figuring it had been at least a week since the last report from Siika back when Trina was recovering on her Siika's ship the //Servant Mercy//. She takes another hunk of bread and hollers back, her mouth still full from a bite she takes saying, "Don't worry if you can't find anything. We can go to the cantina maybe." The cantina in this quarter of Tier City was one of the nicest that Delphine had ever seen and maybe she could glean more info, without using her powers, from the cyborg mech fighter. She grins up at Trina reassuringly. "I'm feeling better every minute."

Trina rolls her shoulder one more time, a wince spoiling the gesture. "Siika was able to put me back together. I spent some time working on it myself, but I've been having to do with non-standard parts, which I can only get at-" Trina catches herself and transitions, not as smoothly as she hopes, "-some place that specializes in this sort of thing."

This was hopeless. Trina shakes her head. "I should probably just go and let you all recover fully. I'm glad the bounty hunter didn't get you, Sarna. Thank you for the caf and the snack."

Trina takes a step back and places her still mostly full cup on the desk. Her hand once again comes enticingly close to the dataport, but she let it go. The timing was off. Perhaps if Delphine and Sarna did go to the Cantina, another opportunity would present itself. Perhaps.

Blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes with a puff of breath, Sarna fills a bowl for herself and looks around at the others. "If you want to go to the cantina, go ahead. I'm gonna stay and rest some more," she says. "Are you sure you don't want some of this? I think it might be homemade." She blows on a spoonful and takes a cautious bite, and her brows knit together as Trina seems to be trying to make her escape. "Thanks, me too. Considering he'd rather see me dead than... well, turned in for... whatever,," she says with a smirk. "I'm glad you're doing better, too. Come and see us again before you head offworld?" Sarna looks at Delphine quizzically, then dips her spoon back into the stew for another bite.

Delphine reaches out to Sarna. //She's hiding something. And her agenda isn't just visiting us.// "Yeah...that Malideus..." she begins, keeping her seaglass gaze on Trina. "He's a zealot to put it simply. He endangers anyone like us - including other Enclave members..." she says. "And he was working with someone, when he came back for Sarna. His name was...Kelvin? Keldin? No, Kalden! That's it. Kalden." She takes a beat, the professional interrogator training her perception on Trina. "That guy was on Orum when we were, too..."

Kalden. By the stars, Delphine knew the scout's name and was asking about him. Trina is halfway to the door when Delphine's questions stops her in her track, and her mind begins to race finding a way to navigate this maze without breaking anyone's trust.

Trina raises her right hand and places it over the repaired patch on her left arm. "Orum. I've been trying not to think about what happened that night. I'm sure you understand."

Trina takes a moment to look around the room, first at the slumbering Siika, then back to Delphine. Sarna is spared the glance. "That does remind me, though. What happened with that droid that shot me? I wouldn't mind too much if you sold it to be melted down for scrap."

The message that drifts into her mind from the Acolyte makes Sarna flick her gaze between Delphine and Trina. She sets the bowl down and goes to lean one hip on the desk as she folds her arms across her chest. "Right, I remember him. He was there on the beach the first time, too! The first time Malideus tried to... confront me." Able to sense Delphine's confidence and experience in this realm, she is alert to whatever she can glean from the somewhat older woman.

Still, Trina's reminder of what she'd been through brings the girl's empathy to the forefront, and her gaze softens. "Can't say I blame you for not wanting to think about it," she murmurs. "Do you know him, though?" Her brows arch and she asks the question with no qualms.

Delphine might have asked the question herself, having heard Trina babble the name in her pain and drug enduced stupor. She certainly wasn't going to give away information about that droid now that Trina was acting sketchy. But she didn't want Trina to just turn around and run. Instead, she opts for an offer of kindness. "Listen, Trina...um..." Delphine steeples her fingers together in front of her. "We know you know this Kalden fellow. And that the Regency fixed you up and you feel you owe them. So if you know him...you know why he was at the cantina on the Bastion, don't you? We'd appreciate anything you can tell us. I, at least, am still trying to suss out what happened there...and why. Please. We can protect you."

"You want to know who Kalden is." Trina's voice quavers as she looks between Sarna and Delphine. "You want to know what he was doing in that dirty tavern on Orum's Bastion. And you say you can protect me. But what if you're wrong?"

Trina takes a few steps back towards Sarna and Delphine, far enough to reach the cup she'd left on the desk. She raises it to her lips and gulps down the caf, still uncomfortably warm but not scalding. A surge of energy rushes through her, psychosomatic to be sure, but it's enough to push Trina forward in this confrontation. "You look at me and you might think you know what I've lost, what I've gone through, but you don't. Maybe I know something about Kalden. Or maybe what I know is what he _wants_ me to know. Another test. Another set of questions to test my loyalty."

Trina's hand tightens on the cup and the porcelain squeaks a moment before it cracks. Surprised, Trina looks at the broken cup before setting the pieces on the desk. When she speaks, her voice is low and quiet. "Kalden and I are not friends. He asks me questions to test my loyalty. Delphine, Sarna... I think you are my friends, but you're asking me another set of questions to test my loyalty. What do you think will happen to that if I try to give you the information you're asking for?"

Feeling out of her depth, Sarna listens nevertheless with rapt attention to both women. Certainly Delphine knows what she is doing, she tells herself as the blonde reaches out with kindness to Trina. She catches her lower lip between her teeth, but manages to smile before she speaks, cautious not to step off on the wrong foot. "We're not looking for your loyalty, Trina," she says softly. "We only want to help you. That's more important than any useful information you might have. Friendship does make all the difference in the galaxy." Her hands clasp in front of her and she turns her head toward Delphine. "You don't think the Enclave can protect you from him?"

Delphine blinks rapidly and puts her palm out toward Siika. "Wait...the Enclave is neutral. Me? Less so." She had taken Regency contracts in the past as often as any other kind. She didn't like it as she was called upon for petty disputes between spoiled nobles, interrogations of light-fingered servants, or to assure contracts were signed without deceit. Whatever she was called to do at Orum's Bastion, it was likely against the Regency if this Kalden fellow was involved. But Delphine did not speak for the Enclave politically. It was not her place. She looks back at Trina and places her hand over her heart. "The Enclave isn't involved past giving me a contact to meet there. And Sarna is correct. I hope that we are friends. And I'm not trying to test you. Just to help you. But...I understand how things go with those people," she says with just a hint of disgust in her voice. "You can find sanctuary here, maybe, if that would help you. But if you're afraid this man will punish you if you tell us anything..." The Acolyte lowers her hand and her gaze to her lap. "I understand. Just know, as your friend, I will help you if you ask me to."

With Delphine's words, something loosens inside Trina's chest. She wipes porcelain dust off her fingers, closes the distance between her and Sarna and Delphine, and reaches to take a hand from each. "Let's stay friends. I know what you're asking of me, but maybe I can give you something better: assurance. Running from The Regency and trying to hide is one option. Thank you both for suggesting it and meaning it. But to do that, I'd lose two things. Myself. And my ability to minimize the casualties. I'm not a Militant thug sent to burn down villages. I'm the shadow in the night that goes of the thugs, making sure the village is empty when they arrive. By saying that much, I've told you more about what I do than anyone outside of High Centre. I'm trusting you with this, because we're friends."

Sarna only listens this time, not wanting to disturb the subtle weaving of trust that seems to be forming between them -- and not yet ready to consider exactly what a neutral Enclave might entail. She certainly can't imagine the Jedi Order she's learned about being neutral.

Sarna squeezes the hand that takes hers and tries to convey her understanding in her gaze if not her words, even if she's not sure yet what to make of it all. She glances at Delphine expectantly, hoping for more words of wisdom.

With the offered hand, Delphine lets out a sad sigh of relief. "No one will know what you've told us. You're a good person, Trina...caught up in something you can't get out of without extreme sacrifices. Just please...know that you can always contact us here. Lincoln will know how to find us if we leave." Delphine sinks back into the couch, fatigue washing over her now that she had food in her belly and had brought things back to a circle of trust between the women. She looks to Sarna and says, "I think I need to rest some more. Maybe someday we can tell Trina all about it?" But for now, they couldn't share what they knew either. Fair is fair.

Trina offers Sarna and Delphine her best smile before releasing their hands and stepping back. This time when she moves to the door, she doesn't stop. She looks back once as she steps out, eyes fixing on the sleeping Siika.

Out on the street, with the Marshal's office behind her, Trina shakes her head. A good person? Every time Trina looked in the mirror, she didn't see a good person staring back at her. She saw someone that had been compromised, physically and spiritually. Regardless the kindness in Delphine's words, Trina knew that she was more machine than woman now, twisted up in something larger than all four women combined. Something that wanted to reach out and consume the whole of the galaxy. Whatever else Trina was doing, stealing information and saving lives, Trina knew she was a part of that power stretching to cover all... and she didn't want to stop it.