Posted by Fleet Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in Meet Da Mu - When the past doesn’t match the present or the future

Posted by Fleet Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in Meet Da Mu - When the past doesn’t match the present or the future

Posted by Fleet Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in Meet Da Mu - When the past doesn’t match the present or the future
Della cracked her neck trying to relieve the tension in it. The entire crew was at odds with everyone. Half the crew wanted to string up the aliens for what they had done. The other half of the crew were taking a more habilitative approach suggesting those in command strive to find the common ground with the people in the brig based on the ideals of Starfleet. Della was somewhere in the middle. She believed everyone had the chance for rehabilitation yet to her knowledge only she had had direct access to one of them. Showing her credentials at the door, the guards let her pass into the now-familiar body of the brig.

Looking to the left, the room still had the smattering of officers on duty plus the large Orion security chief at the desk. Moving up to the men, Della looked at all of them. “I am not suggesting anything but please do not lose your temper or provoke the prisoner until I am gone. Usually, individuals in these situations love to talk and gloat but Rogan quickly grew tired of this. I am not sure if this person will react the same way but we need to find out information. ” Della did not want the men to feel like they were being lectured. The issue was everyone was tense right now, security most of all. These men and woman were the first to be praised and the first to take the blame when things went sideways. Della knew Mardusk was allowing her down here as a curtsey not because he liked control but because he was worried about putting any of the crew in harm’s way. She respected the chief for all he did to keep them all safe.

Moving to the front of Da Mu’s cells she made a swirling motion with her finger as she sat down. “Open it up,” she said getting comfortable in her chair.

As the lights came on, the individual in the cell was not lounging about like Rogan. Instead, Della and the security officers in the room were greeted by Da Mu staring back, both hands resting on the forcefield as if he had been waiting for them. His lips were moving in a rhythmic motion mouthing the same thing over and over as he locked eyes with Della.

It was slightly unsettling seeing his reaction but Della did her best to look undisturbed. “Activate the comm channel,” she said.

“Where is the girl,” came over the comm system. The voice had a well-practiced urgency to it. If one had not known this was the man that had injured the captain, one could mistake the tone for actual concern. He didn’t really care where Jessa was as long as she wasn’t in the cell next to him which he already knew. If she had been there, Jessa would have let them know like before. Glancing to the right and the left, all Da Mu saw was a series of dark cages probably holding Zala Tsu and Rogan. Since they could not be seen, this meeting must be just for him.

“Hello my name is Della Mah,” she began in a calm and gentle tone.

“I don’t give a triffing trife who you are. Where is she,” he growled with some spittle spraying out and splattering on the forcefield. “Where,” he balled up his fist bashing it on the field.

“Della Marx,” she continued as if Da Mu had not interrupted her. “I am here to discuss with you the events that happened upon your arrival and try to answer any questions you may have,”

Again Da Mu interrupted her but this time with far more emotion. “Great you can start with where is Jessa?” There was simmering anger in his tone, a barely controlled rage but at least he had stopped the outward aggression against the forcefield. These people were soft. If he was on the other side of the invisible wall instead of the child, things would have been different. He would have cut through them like a knife through butter, retrieved the prism, and be returning home by now. Their softness however was problematic. Jessa did not yet have the will and drive to implement the goals and aspirations of the Order. Maybe a demonstration would nudge her in the right direction. Da Mu’s eyes drifted to everyone in the room. An Honor Sacrifice would help. He would round up every person in this room and find all their friends. With any luck, the ship would house these people’s families too. Honor Sacrifices were always more memorable when children and lovers were involved. People always fell into line the second you began slaughtering those one held most dear. If they were spared, the image of the others dying horrifically tended to prevent any further acts of aggression. Da Mu could feel himself aching for the need to hear these people beg and wipe the smug expressions off their faces.

Della ignored his request but continued on with her questions. “We want to help you but you need to help us. I might be able to arrange for you to see her if you cooperate.” She knew promising something she could not deliver was a reflag in therapy however, it was unlikely she would ever see this man or his friends in the future.

Reaching out his hand, Da Mu closed it around her throat watching Della’s eyes bulge and lips begin to turn blue. He savored the scratches on his hands as her fingernails dug into his flesh trying to release his grip so that she could breathe. Da Mu took a deep breath relishing the shake in his arm as he tightened his grip and choked the life out of her. Looking into her eyes, Da Mu watched the light disappear.

Unfortunately, this daydream would have to remain in his mind…for now. “Then cooperate I shall. What do you need to know Ms. Marx or it is Mrs.?”

Della Marx

She was a bit surprised at the sudden cooperation of the man in the cell yet all indications pointed to this man being the leader or in charge. He was the one that initiated the attack and he appeared to be the oldest of the group. While this was just an assumption on Della’s part that age indicated seniority, there was little to go on right now about their hierarchical structure. Hopefully, there would be more information after Jessa’s next consult with Commander Rinker; however, since that was occurring the same time she was interviewing this man, any knowledge gained would have to used later. “It would be most helpful if I could have a name or preference on how to address you?” Della settled back in her seat with the comfort of knowing this interview would probably follow the same parameters as the one with the individual designated as Rogan. There would be initial hostility which would flow into actual discourse, ending with the man open for another session.

“You may address me as Elder Da Mu Unka San Zomeil,” he replied. The name was longer than Jessa referred to him as but melodic and easy to pronounce rolling off one’s tongue like a song. The addition of the title and quite possibly several surnames indicated this individual was trying to stress his power, importance, or influence by sharing his designation. Without some basis on his culture and the hierarchical structure of the Galactic Union, the importance of this was lost on Della.

“So Elder Zomeil why did you come to the ship? You said it was to deliver a package that would hold great promise for your Galactic Union and the Federation?” Della relaxed back in the chair preparing for circular responses to simple questions.

“You are to address me as Elder only. Zomeil is only for those within my inner circle and you clearly are not that,” he snapped bearing all the weight of his anger behind his gaze. This was his intent always. To bait this simpering woman into a hole and let fear creep into soul as he reprimanded her and placed her off balance. To show her what she should be referring to him as. It would be a brief lesson though. When he finally was released from his cage, he would force her to achieve this haughty, disrespectful tone as he slowly strip every bit of flesh off her body. The woman would beg and plead for a quick death but many would pay for the events of the past few days. She would only be the first.

Della felt like a thousand knives pricked her body not hard enough to kill but enough to draw blood as Da Mu’s gaze fixated on her eyes. She felt almost paralyzed and unable to break what seemed like a trance he was holding over her. It did give the opportunity to stare into his eyes. Unfortunately, the black orbs peering back held nothing but evil and malice behind them. An uncontrollable shiver ran down her spine as the feeling of imaginary pain dissipated only to be replaced with the feeling of death, despair, and hopelessness. The chill of death covered her like a shroud until it vanished.

Della cleared her throat and tried to appear calm and unphased however what had occurred did not feel natural. “Understood. Elder,” she said in a firm tone. Whatever happened seemed to have ended and Della felt far more in control of her emotional state. If Della had more experience under her belt, like Cara or Heathcliff, she would not have led her patient so easily to a response. This was why Primrose had picked her. Her lack of experience would allow her to be the perfect scapegoat if needed. If she was not able to produce the needed results, Primrose would call her incompetent and order someone else in her place. If she caused an situation with the man behind the invisible shield, Primrose would blame her for any fallout that happened.

“Good you may continue,” Da Mu waved a hand as if giving her permission. The sound of his title and the small amount of control he seemed to have over the woman filled a craving he had not received in weeks since leaving his home galaxy and embarking on the trip.

Adjusting in her seat, Marx continued with her questions. “When you arrived you requested to speak to Captain Bordeaux. She allowed you to come on board which prompted you to attack her? Did you not know Ian Bordeaux was her husband and just a senior officer on the ship when you arrived?”

“No,” he replied simply not caring how the new piece of information played over his visage. It was clear that he had not known this until Della shared it with him. Inside Da Mu seethed wondering if this was a political play by the Rectoress. She seemed so confident in the validity of her claims as if the Divine themselves had shared the knowledge she imparted and yet it was flawed and wrong. Da Mu knew enough, being an Elder, the image of the Rectoress as all powerful and all knowing, was only for the masses. He did not see her as the physical representation of the Divine as the simpering citizens yet with his life on the line, he had expected correct and vital tactical information for the mission to be successful. “When we contacted your Federation,” he spat the word like it was filth in his mouth, “they assured us they would produce Captain Ian Bordeaux. They also warned us to be of the treachery and treason in your folds. They warned us not to trust anyone that did not present themselves as such which is why we defended ourselves. You ask why we attacked first,” Da Mu leaned in so close to the field his breath momentarily fogged up the space between them until the shield adjusted and clear the mist, “because your government told us to.”

Elder Da Mu Unka San Zomeil

His answer caused confusion to spread across her face with wrinkles creasing her brow causing her eyes to squint slightly. These people were not to be trusted yet if what he said was true, it would explain many things such as their immediate violent reaction to the introduction of Kelly. Calling him a liar was not going to win trust. Accepting his claim did not make sense. Finding out if his claim was valid was the most important thing right now. “Who in our government said that,” she posed the question as delicately as she could.

“Ian Bordeaux,” the man said with a smile that chilled Della to the core.

Her mind ran with possibilities of how this could or could not be true. Ian was absent from the initial meeting and no one could get in contact with him due to a classified and closed-door meeting. It was also undeniable that Ian was panicked hearing his wife had been injured. Nothing about Kelly and Ian’s relationship suggested anything but the two were in love. What this man was suggesting however implied Ian was complicit in the attack. “Ian told you he was the captain and to attack anyone that was not him. For what purpose? Why didn’t he just meet you? He is the head of the diplomatic division. His wife is the Captain of the ship? You would not be the first time we hosted a diplomatic function on the ship. Why would he send his wife in his place if his orders were to attack anyone that was not him?”

The smile faltered slightly hearing the identity of the woman that was hurt. It was their mission objective’s wife? Da Mu seethed inside mentally making a list of all those that would die for withholding information from him. The Rectoress was so sure that this Ian would be Captain and that he would be unmarried. It was the reason Zala Tsu was with them. The woman could turn any man given enough time. That had been the plan. To bed the man and have him hand over the keys to the kingdom yet the plan had been forcibly changed. They would make adjustments. They always did for the success of any mission only these adjustments would be slick with blood and reek of death.

Taking a moment, Da Mu thought about all the questions the woman asked as his gaze settled back on her. Slowly he curled a finger and leaned his forehead to the glass motioning for Della to come to him. The movement was slow, controlled, and deliberate. His lips moved slowly imparting a message that could not be heard but clearly was being expressed. Da Mu waited for the woman in the chair to capitulate to his demands. He felt his heart race and a rush of endorphins flood his body as the woman introduced as Della Marx looked back to the security officers in the room asking about the communication line. He felt a throbbing in his neck as his heart rushed blood faster and faster throughout his body. Stand up. Come to me. I may be behind this invisible wall but I can work you like a puppet. Pull your strings. Make you do things…for me…to yourself…to others, he silently monologues in his mind as his lips kept repeating the same rhythm producing the same series of low whispered words. By the time he was done with Della Marx, if she survived his attentions, she would find a way to end her misery herself.

Never removing his gaze off her eyes, Da Mu ran his fingertips of the hand pressed against the forcefield in a clawing-like motion as his other hand continued to beckon her with a single finger. Not having any playthings stifled his anger for this woman to be told several times to come to him. He would replay the nervous way she stood up and anxiously approached the forcefield. It was like food for his soul seeing the fear and trepidation on the woman’s face knowing she should be safe yet doubting the walls of his prison could actually hold him.

“Closer,” he raised his voice just enough to see the woman jerk back suddenly hearing the word he chose for her to hear.

Della cleared her throat and leaned into the field. Later, it would be pointed out that Della could not hear anything through the forcefield and this was just a ploy to control her. At the moment, however, Della could not seem to need she felt to obey the man calling her. Leaning into the field she brought her face inches from the field before Da Mu open palm slapped the energy field. The sound of his skin against it reverberated producing the sound of a sopping wet towel impacting a tiled floor. It caused Della to move backward. It caused Da Mu to feel an almost orgasmic rush as he imagined his hand not striking the forcefield but her face. In his mind, the pretty young woman’s face was covered in blood as he hit her hand enough to break her nose and split her lip.

“Back up,” the security officer barked in a sharp tone to the counselor.

Della nodded gasping to catch her breath as she slowly moved back staring at Da Mu like an animal being backed into a corner by a predator. Her legs struck the chair and Della slowly lowered herself into it never taking her eyes off her patient.

Da Mu placed both of his palms in the field and leaned in assuming a position as if he were doing a standing push-up with his forehead resting on the field. He had her right where he wanted her, needed her to be. “Enough of your questions. Time for mine. Tell me is Jessa well or has she sustained any injuries?” Goosebumps rippled across his body waiting to hear the gory recounting. He had given Jessa an order. Hearing his young charge completed it, meant Jessa was still thiers. A sick surge of pride welled up in his chest waiting for the answer he didn’t need. Jessa was a product of the Temple. He had no doubt she performed the Ritual. He just wanted to know the details of how it was performed.

“Past the jugular wound and her broken arm yesterday she is fine,” Della reported as if Da Mu was her superior. It might have violated numerous privacy codes but maybe it would get him talking. The report from the security chief was that Jessa had suddenly freaked out and participated in self-injurious behavior. Della knew the girl was on the edge of a nervous breakdown in her opinion based on the notes from the doctor in sick bay. It made sense Jessa would resort to hurting herself to cope with the stress. What did seem off was the timing. “She broke her arm after meeting with you? Can you give me any insight on why she might do that?”

A smile curled on Da Mu’s face. He did not hide it. It had been three days since he felt the fear and saw the look of helplessness in someone else’s eyes. The knowledge Jessa had performed the Ritual of Cleansing at his suggestion coursed through his body like the hot rush of a lover’s embrace. If soothed his need for dominance and urge to control those around him. “I wasn’t there. Tell me more perhaps and I might be able to extrapolate on Guardian Novar’s intent behind such an action.”

“Our security chief was giving her a tour of the ship. She became agitated and struck her arm on a railing. The medical teams were called and I can assure you she was given immediate care,” Della both answered his question and tried to provide assurances as to Jessa’s well-being and present mental state. “She wasn’t hurt for long. Doctor Evrilla treated her and took her back to sickbay where she,”

“So she is not alone?” Da Mu’s ecstasy seemed to fade with the knowledge Jessa was not suffering. The narrowing of his gaze and pursing of his lips indicated he was no longer pleased.

“No. As I said she is safe and being cared for under the Lt. Commander Ian Bordeaux and Commander Rinker. She is a minor and needs,”

“Two diplomats?” Da Mu cut her off again. Any elation he had felt earlier was evaporating from his soul like a pot of boiling water. Jessa was Divine. She knew her place and her role but she was still young and impressionable. She had not come to accept the harsh lessons that sometimes had to be dealt to the populace. Having her among people other than the Elders and the Order was dangerous. It was why anyone, not an Elder was sequestered in the Temple, cut off from the realities of the Galactic Union until they were properly conditioned.

“Well her father is a diplomat but the other is the chief psychiatrist of the ship. A psychiatrist is a specialized doctor that helps treat individuals with mental illness or mental trauma. With the situation being what it is the crew was worried she might be confused or upset by events that have recently transpired,” Della replied. The concern with the girl by these visitors seemed to go past Jessa being one of them. It bordered on an obsession with Rogan highly focused on exactly what she was doing instead of Jessa’s well-being. Da Mu seemed to share this obsession also. It was unsettling how they never once asked about what was happening to them yet were hyperfocused on any information about the girl.

Da Mu visibly changed hearing the last piece of information imparted from Della Marx. Confusion spread across her face as if he was sucker punched and reeling from the blow. Several long seconds passed as the Da Mu processed what he had learned. Della Marx’s melodic and slightly higher-pitched female tone, became white noise as implication after implication began to pile up in his mind like an avalanche hanging precariously on the tip of a mountain peak. He silently cursed the Rectoress and began to punch the wall of the cell over and over until a thin smear of blood from his damaged knuckles left a thin pink streak.

Della watched wide-eyed ready to signal a medical team. As her hand moved to the comm badge fastened to her chest, Da Mu spoke in a dark, rumbling growl. “As a sovereign individual of the Galactic Union, I request all contact with Commander Rinker cease and desist from this moment forward with Jessa Novar. She is my legal charge and by the rights and laws of the Galactic Union she is mine.” Da Mu’s eyes had a predatory glare which he let drift to everyone he could see. No one in the room was exempt.

Della frowned and shifted in her seat. Custody in situations like this became tricky. In the Federation, there were laws protecting adoptive parents. It would be ludicrous to think this Galactic Union did not also have some sort of similar laws. “So you are now claiming you are her adoptive father,” Della posed the question mainly for the record.

“No. She is a Guardian. I am an Elder. That means she belongs to me. She belongs with her own kind. I forbid any contact with anyone that would twist her mind and warp her. Mind seers are forbidden in the Galactic Union. One does not need someone to coddle those that are weak-willed or offer false guidance. The path and the Order are the only help one needs when they are lost. She does not need to be fed lies or deceit. You will only confuse her and damn her eternal soul. Return her to the cell she was in previously. She will suffer the same fate as those of her kind so bring me the girl. You have no idea who she is or what she is capable of. Bring her to me. Bring her to me,” he thundered pounding on the shield wall with his fists over and over.

“Close it up Sir,” the security officer asked the senior officer in charge of the room.

“Damn straight close it up,” he replied cutting the lights and the sound to the room. “I am done with this arsehole and his rhetoric and games. Ensign Marx you are finished here. Lt. Brags please escort her out of the Brig.”

“But I am not done with him yet,” Marx snapped back. Her only response for the security officer was a nod and the feeling of a hand on her bicep escorting her out.

Da Mu stopped as soon as all contact with the outside was severed. It did not however calm him. Pacing the room like a caged animal, Da Mu’s thoughts raced and anger washed over him. Mind seers were forbidden in the Galactic Union and had been for hundreds of years. Their profession was one of the first outlawed due to the way they inspired rebellion and insurrection among the populace. If Jessa was interacting with one, who knows what damage it could cause to the mission. Ideas that were not state-sponsored were dangerous almost as dangerous as an Elder who was blessed with the Divine and not working for the Order.

Da Mu