Save Me: Part 2

Posted on Tue 18th Nov, 2025 @ 9:34am by Commander Heriah Rex & Commander Anslo Tol & Lieutenant Damion Ildaran

2,304 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: From The Ashes
Location: Rex Office
Timeline: Current

=^="Rex to LT Ildaran"=^= came the Commander's voice, =^="Report to my office, please."=^=

Damion blinked as the sound of the Trill XO's voice came through his combadge, jarring his attention away from the report he was writing. "Ildaran here," he replied. "On my way."

She must have figured out he'd infiltrated Ops, Damion thought, as he had no idea why the XO of the starbase would want to see him in her office. Well, if there was music to face, he'd just have to face it.

He saved the report, sent a quick note to Cmdr. Severide to inform her where he'd be, and then took the lift up to Ops. He gave the large room a quick glance. All seemed quiet and orderly. As Damion neared the XO's office, he saw security guards posted to either side of the door, which slid open to admit him. That was odd. He and the guards sized each other up for a moment before he gave them a brief nod and walked past them. "Yes, Commander?" Damion inquired as he entered. The doors hissed closed behind him.

A thin, unhealthy-looking Trill stood in the office with Commander Rex. Interesting. Was Security guarding Rex, the Trill, or both? Damion kept his gaze forward at Rex, but he had been trained to assess people quickly. Were those scars on him? The scars he could see were fresh, Damion noted and stifled a shudder. Something bad had happened to the guy.

Strong, a fighter. Not as frail as I thought, but exhausted, Damion thought. Been to the outer tunnels and back.

"Lieutenant, thank you for coming on such short notice. I have an assignment that requires immediate execution." Heriah looked between the two men. "This is Anslo Tol, Joined Trill and also a Lieutenant in Starfleet. He's been AWOL for quite the many years now and has been on the run. His presence here is purely out of lucky happenstance. He was the ward of two captors currently residing, temporarily, down in the Garden Sector. Their ship is being worked on." Heriah had been pacing slightly as she gave that short brief. "Tell me, have you been keeping up with your infiltration skills? When was the last time you put them to use?"

Damion blinked. "About one month ago, Ma'am, as a test for myself. I also do practice missions in a holosuite quarterly when I'm not in the field."

"And how do you feel about striking a superior officer," she asked. And before he could provide answer, "if striking said officer is part of the mission, especially if it means to maintain your cover?"

"If I'm undercover, my job is to maintain my cover until the mission is completed," Damion said. "If I have to strike a superior officer to maintain my cover, I will do so."

"Then you should find this mission no trouble at all. Anslo Tol here," she said as she turned to Anslo and stepped toward him some, "has asked for asylum and to be free of his captors. You see, this may very well be more than an illegal hunt as it could also be diplomatic. And we want to avoid diplomatic red tape."

Anslo made a small nod of acknowledgement towards Damion but said nothing, still trying to assess what was going on.

She turned back to Damion and stepped upon him. "I am going to deny Anslo's request for asylum and order him to be returned to his captors…”

Anslo then went wide eyed as Heriah continued…

“…While their ship is being worked on, Anslo will, of course, have to be held in the brig. I have decided he will be held in the civilian brig area down in the Garden Sector...to keep him close to his captors. This means having to parade him by the civilian docking area. There is a refugee ship departing in 3 hours. They do not have a roster and they do not care who is on board. This is where you come in, Lieutenant. I need you to take the place of Anslo Tol…”

Anslo recoiled. “NO!” he screamed internally. Those two fanatics would kill anyone who stopped them from their mission. He was listening in escalating disbelief at the plan and wondering if there was any hope at all.

“…I need you to look like him, talk like him, fight like him...I need everyone to think that I am parading him down to the Garden Sector brig. Two Security personnel will be joining us and they will not be told of our plan. As we pass by the docking area, I need you to break free, take out the Security personnel and myself. A broken arm or leg is fine. A concussion is also recommended. I need it to be believable. So, I will not go easy on you. You need to overpower us, neutralize us, and then get aboard that departing refugee transport. Maintain your cover. On the next stop, dump your disguise and make your way back here. Leave a cold trail for anyone following Anslo. I will make sure comms in the docking area are undergoing maintenance so that you can accomplish this and the ship can jump to warp before it can be ordered to halt. Questions?"

You don't ask for much, do you? Damion thought. He considered the plan, ticking off issues in his head. "This will require some discussion, Ma'am, and three hours is cutting it very fine." He turned to Anslo. "Mr. Tol, what fighting techniques do you typically use? While fighting, how do you protect your symbiont?"

Anslo stood in shame, his Starfleet oath broken but these brethren stood by his side to help him. He felt like the shackles of his time running had been clamped on his wrists already. He told Damion, “This is beyond dangerous for you. These men will stop at nothing, or will kill you if they discover this ruse."

"That is why I chose him," Heriah interjected and motioned toward Damion. "He has the skills to fool anyone. Maybe not a scan, but that is why he will escape and have a day's head start. By the time he leaves a cold trail, they can cross paths and your captors will be none the wiser."

"I have protected myself," Anslo continued, "and Tol through aggressive means of offense and tactical prowess, Mok’bara, K’taan, Krav Pankration, anything Starfleet thought would help kill Jem’Hadar. But these men don’t know me, just of me, and just of Tol. Why would you place yourself into danger for me?”

"Because you were finally captured," Heriah replied. "You are worn out, tired. You said so yourself. Besides..." she turned to Damion to allow him to provide further answer.

"It's my job to," Damion said. "Also, you are very, very afraid of those guys. I agree with Cmdr. Rex that they don't need to have custody of you." He let out a breath and went on. "So there isn't any specific move I need to remember to use, to protect a symbiont; sheer aggression in my attack has to accomplish it." He glanced back at Anslo and included Heriah in his glance. "Is there anyplace where a blow to the chest or abdomen would drop me, if I were a joined Trill? I'll want to deflect or avoid attacks like that from you or Security."

Anslo finally let his disbelief fall to the floor. These two were here to help him. Shame was a poison to any plans to escape this so he bottled it up for later, after the danger was done. He squared himself and took a full stance, the sickly visage fading, and his much truer to form rigid posture returned.

He replied to Damion, “You will want to avoid combat in general. Rautha is a specialist beyond my skill, I’d use tactics for him, conversely where Rizhkyn is Tactics, I’d use martial skills against him. Together they complement one another. I’ve successfully played limited games with them, feigning my injuries, biding time, lifting items for my use as I could. Those are the traits they know me by. They have not seen me in combat as I truly am. They will focus on limbs, to disable, and will go to every extreme to avoid injuring Tol. They have not seen me standing at full height and may not have a gauge of my true stature. before I was joined, I was… bigger, stronger… It took me time to realize all I ‘d lost with joining, but the time taught me to appreciate the gains as well. There would be mixed reports on my height and weight.”

Damion noted Anslo's altered posture. He didn't look so thin and frail, now. Odd. Most people relaxed when a threat was lifted; Anslo tightened up but looked less hunted. Damion wondered what that meant about the guy's past. Probably nothing good. He made note of it for his later impersonation.

"Do you anticipate Rautha and, uh, Rizhkyn will be present to see you being escorted to the brig? If so, what do they look like?" Damion asked.

"Trill," said Heriah, "and intimidating. Rautha has this soulless look about him as well as a desire to destroy anything in his way. Ryzhkyn is definitely trained and militaristic. Have a nice long look at my spots as well as those of Anslo. An un-Joined Trill will have less luster to his spots. Being in Sick Bay, their images are now scanned into 109's database. Have a look there. But I do not intend on having them present when we escort him...I mean...you to the brig. I have no plans on letting them know any of this until after the fact. Me denying his request for asylum, my willingness to release him back to them, sending him to the brig...none of that will be known to anyone until after you have neutralized me and the Security personnel and escaped."

"They sound like a charming pair," Damion said in a wry tone. "Thanks for the information. Even if they're not supposed to be present, I'll want to know what they look like," Damion looked back at Heriah. "Where do you want to make the switch, Ma'am? I'm guessing the two guards posted outside your office will be the ones accompanying me to the brig?"

"The switch should be here," Heriah said. "You leave when you are done here. You walked in. Might as well walk out. Report to your office to prepare, then site-to-site transport back here, to my office. Let me know when you intend to, and I will override security lockouts so your transport here will go unnoticed. Anslo will hide momentarily while we leave for the Garden Sector. As we pass by Civilian Docking, you take us down and escape aboard that refugee transport. No one is to know of our plan, not even the captain. Not until those Trill down below are long gone."

"I'll tell Cmdr. Severide I've been given a field assignment that will require me to be away from 109 for a few days," Damion said. "I already told her I was reporting to your office, so she knows I'm here. I have to tell her something."

'The Betazoid. Dirty telepath. Give her but a second and she will know it all, blow this whole plan open before it can get started.'

"Tell her to come speak to me," Heriah said then suddenly wished she hadn't. "And to speak to no one else. If Severide presses the issue, if you think she may be prying for answers, call forth the memory of a loved one, someone you may have lost, something strong. I've dealt with half-Betazoids before. That can block them from reading you. Until those two Trill down there are gone, I want everyone to think that I dropped the ball on this one."

She turned to Anslo. "What are your thoughts on this?"

He had no reply really, "I am in your hands. I will make sure this works in any way I can. If danger comes to the station I will make every effort to stop it or get it off board."

Damion thought of something. "Mr. Tol, before I leave, do you have allergies to anything? Any dietary restrictions?"

Anslo shook his head, “I’ve needed proper medical treatment for some time. Before joining I was much more present physically than this frailty you see. I am allergic to bug bites, not violently so but the welts grow large. I am sick to my stomach more often than not. The Second Sons are big on wound treatment, but not on medicine. My initial joining was ill suited; it took years for it to sort itself out, but we have achieved a balance. I maintain a very strict balanced diet, I eat nothing which isn’t nourishing, forgoing even alcohol or confections unless I am starving. Fortunately, none of this past my joining difficulties exists in medical records. You may feel free to improvise.”

"Make this happen, Lieutenant," Heriah said, "and I will personally make sure there is a Starfleet award waiting for you upon your return."

Ugh. How do I respond to that without it sounding cliche? Damion wondered. He waved off the comment. "Not necessary, Ma'am. Anyway--I'd better leave now. I know you said not to tell anyone, but I'll need help from someone in my department to apply Mr. Tol's spots and to affix an abdominal prosthetic for where the symbiont goes in. I'll send you a message for the beam-out once all that's done." He glanced at Anslo. "Good luck, Mr. Tol."

 

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