Posted by Civilian Jezem (Upstanding Citizen) in Commercial District - Criminals and the City (Tag Shivan)

Posted by Lieutenant Tandra Mika (Counselor) in Commercial District - Criminals and the City (Tag Shivan)

Posted by Civilian Jezem (Upstanding Citizen) in Commercial District - Criminals and the City (Tag Shivan)
Posted by… suppressed (22) by the Post Ghost! 👻
<snip>

Jezem blinked. The autoshuttle landed with a barely felt thud and then a hiss as the side doors opened. “Stay with me, Shivan.” Jezem went into motion. The journey from the autoshuttle to the house passed in a blur. Somehow he got Shivan onto the expansive dinning table, the next moment he pulled the first aid kit from a kitchen cabinet. At some point he called Argam through the house comms. If asked Jezem couldn’t tell you exactly what he said as he took out a suturing needle and stitches and began to sew the deep wound closed.

Jezem

Shivan groaned weakly when the shuttle landed. There were several loud groans as Jezem pulled him out of the shuttle and dragged him inside and onto their table. He wasn’t even sure where he was anymore. Wasn’t sure he cared. He wasn’t fully conscious. There was searing pain as Jezem started sewing the wound closed, so intense he groaned and screamed weakly again, trying to worm away from Jezem’s hands without being fully aware what he was doing. His breathing was still bad. Rapid and labored and if he breathed too deeply he seemed to be in more pain.

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Jezem cursed Shivan one hundred ways. A thousand years of misfortune served the sorry excuse of a pirate for letting himself get into this kind of mess to begin with. And for making Jezem risk his life in return. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught the shine of the Three Sisters shrine in the main living area. Knowing they where close by and watching over him gave him the strength and the focus to stay on task. In short order he closed the main wound and tied off before moving to the smaller wounds. The medical kit had a blood stimulant hypo and he injected that close to Shivan’s heart per the instructions inside the kit.

Then. Nothing. He had done all that he could. Jezem grabbed all the towels from the kitchen he could fit into his arms and got to mopping up as much blood as he could. Soiled towels were thrown to the floor to be trashed later. He felt Shivan’s pulse at the neck. Still going. Jezem started counting the andorian’s breaths again until the doorbell rang. “The doctor’s here. You’re going to live you sorry, gods-cursed son of a dog. You owe me double-no triple after this.”

The pulse was weak and rapid but at least it was there at all. His breaths were still shallow and rapid. He barely responded to Jezem’s touch or comment outside a soft groan.

Jezem fetched the doctor. He watched from the entryway as the human rushed to the patient’s side and worked. Nidosou, morn not. Hihnaas, curse the soul of that klingon so that she may never no peace in death.

Jezem

The doctor found him to be very anemic and in shock. The blood stimulant hypo was helping correct that but the andorian was still in trouble. He had a concussion found by the scans of the doctor’s hand held medical scanner and the knife had punctured his lung. There was blood in the space in his chest where there shouldn’t be, compressing his lung. His heart rate was rapid, his breathing shallow and labored still. His blood pressure was low, from the shock, but slowly climbing thanks to the stimulant hypo.

~ Thyy Th’arialat

The doctor spoke without looking up from his work, “Get over here because I’m going to need your help.” Though this patient should be taken to a hospital, in situations like this he could demand greater hush money. Jezem did as ordered, and stood by Shivan’s side as the doctor sanitized Shivan’s chest. With smooth, practiced motions the doctor made an incision in the chest to insert a tube and a machine fitted at the incision site to ensure the blood and air will drain.

Jezem became his impromptu nurse and when not cleaning blood from Shivan’s chest, was given the task of injecting various hypos on request. The doctor only spoke when instructing Jezem and worked efficiently.

Jezem

Shivan was fully out by then. His breathing eased as the tube allowed his chest to drain. Slowly his vitals began to normalize. When he was finished, the doctor declared his work done and advised Shivan needed rest and his sutures needed to be kept clean. Watch for signs of infection, if he got worse take him to the hospital or he’d die, and if he did too much and ripped his stitches they needed to be redone.

~ Thyr Th’arialat

“I’ll tie him down to the bed if needed,” Jezem said, “Argam will take care of your reimbursment for you work.” The doctor nodded and without another word left the home and the andorian knocked out cold on the table. Speaking of, how was Jezem going to get him off the table without disturbing his wounds? After several minutes of intensive thought, and one gloriously terrible attempt that shall never be spoke off again. . . He gave up and left Shivan to lie there until he came too.

So, Jezem rolled up his metaphorical sleeves and got to work. Disposing of soiled towels, disinfecting everything the blood touched, disposing of his clothes and thoroughly washing himself under the hottest of water and the strongest of soap. A call to Argam and Hank to ensure that the klingon’s death will never be traced to him. Hank, it turned out, had already dealt with most of the problems there. Jezem completed all his chores and (after checking on Shivan) still had time to start dinner.

Shivan would come too to the smell of heavily spiced orion food and fresh herbed bread. Not much longer until Argam comes home. Jezem couldn’t wait. He’s had a very tiring day.

Jezem

Shivan wasn’t fully awake when he came to. The smell of spiced Orion food brought him back to Pavlajia days and for a moment, that’s where he thought he was. Then he realized he was on a table in a house. A very nice house. Groggily attempting to move proved disastrous and he grunted in pain and decided the middle of the table was a good spot for him.

Then the stabbing came back to him. In parts, anyway. Had Jezem… protected him? Saved him? That would be new. Groggily and as if a bit dazed he looked around the room.

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Jezem looked over his shoulder. Before him several pots and pans were sizzling or simmering with dinner each smelled fragrant. He caught Shivan’s gaze and shouted, “Don’t you even think of attempting to get up unless you can stay standing up. If you open your wounds you’ll die because I will not rush you, you gods-cursed man, to the hospital.” Dinner will have to be in the courtyard on the east side of the house. “Am I understood?”

Jezem

Shivan let his head gently smack the table as he set it down, immediately wincing and regretting the action. His response took a moment, and then, “Understood, Cap.” He lay there quietly for a minute, still out of it, and then, “Your table isn’t very comfortable.”

~ Thyr Th’arialat

“Shut up and deal with it,” Jezem ordered in a tone Shivan hadn’t heard in years. In the kitchen Jezem carefully plated the food and set a cover over top. Silverware and napkins were set next to each plate on a silver carrying tray. Just in time for Argam to tentatively walk through the door. The ferengi didn’t know what to expect after his beloved asked him to both send a doctor to the house and to cover up a murder. Seeing a live andorian on the table was actually a relief. He didn’t know if he had the strength of mind to deal with two dead bodies in one day.

“Beloved, I am home,” The andorian wasn’t tied down and Jezem wasn’t watching the man like a hawk with a dagger in hand. Must be a friend then. The smell of his love’s cooking thankfully overpowered the smell of blood. Never a nice smell, that.

Like a sailor called by a siren’s voice, Jezem felt compelled to rush to the side of his beloved, “Dearest, we shall be taking dinner in the courtyard. I have prepared one of your favorties. Vegetables stewed in heavy sauce and fried meats. Go freshen up and meet us out there,” He ran his hands over the rim of his husband’s ears. Both a reassurance that all is well and as a sign of his affection. Argam, gods bless him, did not ask too many questions and did as he was told. The expression upon his face as he watched his husband go was disgustingly enamoured.

“Alright, you freeloader. It’s dinner time.” Jezem grabbed a hypo left by the doctor and slammed it against Shivan’s neck to ensure the injection caused pain.

Jezem

Shivan watched, head turned, the scene in front of him. It was disgustingly… romantic. Shivan made a disgusted face and intentionally looked away.

“Ouch!” Shivan complained when Jezem rammed a hypo into his neck. “I’m not hungry anyway.” Jezem knew he liked Orion food, he wasn’t being picky. He just didn’t want to move. “If you want me up, I think I’m gonna need help.”

~ Thyr Th’arialat

“I don’t recall you being this needy and pathetic aboard the Pavlajia,” Jezem sneered, but still leaned over to help Shivan sit up, “Sooner or later you were going to need to get up and now it’s time. You will come eat dinner so you’ll have the strength to make it to a bedroom. After that you can wallow in your pain and misery out of my sight.” The orion braced himself for Shivan’s weight and helped steady the man as he stood.

Jezem

“You said you’d let me die if I burst my stitches yet you jeer me when I admit I need help. Pick a side.” Shivan jived back. He put a hand to his injured side and grunted as he sat up with Jezem’s help. “Wallow? I’ll be fine.” There was the Shivan he’d remember from Pavlajia, down to the stubborn look on his face. He had to put most his weight on Jezem as he stood, pressing his hand gently to his injury. Immediately the room began to spin and he felt nauseous. He gripped Jezem trying to stay standing.

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Jezem grunted, knees nearly buckling under Shivan’s weight. Either the andorian gained weight or he seemed lighter in the alley because of adrenaline and panic. Without either Jezem struggled to keep them both upright. “I always insult you,” Jezem snapped. He shifted Shivan slightly to give him more leverage and that did the trick, “You pull a stupid stunt or get yourself into trouble and I mock you for your poor choices.” Okay. They’ll get there one step at a time. Slow and steady.

Jezem

Shivan didn’t feel ready ready for this. His face was pinched with pain, his hand clamped over his injury. He still found it in himself to chuckle at Jezem struggling to hold him up. “I’ve lost weight, you know. How were you ever in charge of a ship if you’re this weak?” Probably not his best idea to mock the guy helping him, but as Jezem said, Shivan wasn’t exactly the prime example of good choice making. His voice was strained with pain. He grunted as Jezem shifted him. “My ‘stupid stunts’ saved the Pavlajia more than once.” He defended himself. Each step was slow and agonizing for him. He was trying to take some of the weight off Jezem, but he was unable. “Exactly… How big is your house?”

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Sisters grant me patience. “I’m a lot stronger than I used to be,” Jezem let them pause so Shivan could rest against a wall and recoup a little of his strength. “You need more than muscles and firepower to run a ship. Else you would have been in charge and immediately gotten us killed.” Not without first wasting all their money on weapons and guns. Or gotten them on the bad side of the Syndicate by neglecting their dues because of said waste of money.

Shivan would’ve shrugged if he weren’t focusing on staying upright and not accidentally taking them both to the floor. The short break was much appreciated. “I was more than happy to not be the one in charge. I’m nobody’s leader.” There was the little issue of what side of the Syndicate Shivan was currently on. If jobs hadn’t been so slow lately… But that didn’t matter. If they found him now he’d be completely defenseless and he was unable to work.

“Bigger than anything you’ll ever live in.” Jezem grunted as their journey continued. Thankfully for the both of them the courtyard wasn’t far. It was the divide between the west and east sides of the house. Constructed in the orion style with towering pillars erected in and around the space in a hexagonal pattern and topped by golden planters. Terracotta walls inlaid with vibrant glass mossaics depicting fertile land and warm sunlight. There were low-lounges and a shallow wading pool more for keeping one cool than actual swimming.

At the table Argam stood up and rushed over, “Ah! Do you require assistance?” Jezem waved his husband off and let out a sigh of relief when Shivan was finally, finally settled into a chair. “Wait. . . you look familiar,” Argam studied Shivan’s face for a moment, then came recognition, “Mr. Shivan? Is that you? You’ve lost weight.”

Jezem

“I’m fine, but thank you.” Shivan looked down at Argam and instantly recognized the Ferengi. He scoffed. “You married the fence? Ha!” Then he looked at Argam, “Uh, no offense.” Getting Shivan settled in a chair was a task and a painful one. Once he was settled he leaned back and let out a sigh of relief. He had no idea how Jezem expected him to make it anywhere else.

When Argam figured out who he was and said his name, Shivan banged his hands on the table and looked around like someone might overhear. “Thyr now. Unless you’d like to get me killed. Thyr Th’arialat. Memorize it before someone hears you.” To Argam’s other comment he shrugged, “Jobs have been slow.” That wasn’t the only reason, but he wasn’t sure how welcome he’d be if they knew exactly how on the run he was.

~ Thyr Th’arialat

“None taken,” Argam said and went to distribute the food between them but was shoo’ed away by Jezem. He did respectfully incline his head to Shivan, “My apologies. Thyr it is good to see you- er, meet you?” Argam looked to Jezem for guidance but the orion simply shrugged and passed around bowels of food and plates of fragrant bread. Shivan was given a drink that smelled like death. He would recall it was an orion health drink with the texture of loose mud and the taste of every herbal plant mashed together. The look Jezem sent him after setting it down said ‘drink it or I’ll make you’.

“It’s good to see you too,” Shivan replied, attempting politeness. “Thank you for allowing this dolt,” he jerked a thumb at Jezem, “to host me.” Shivan had to hold his nose and turn away as soon as the drink was set in front of him. He started a staring contest with Jezem, daring him. ‘Make me, then.’

“Argam is no longer a humble fence for the Syndicate,” Jezem bragged, “He is now the primary exporter of luxury goods and products from nearby planets in the sector. And he is planning to expand by investing into key areas of colony growth. The wealth he’s made far exceeds anything you could ever dream of making.” And Jezem got to do nothing at all. Free to pursue interests and hobbies and get the medical care that his old lifestyle denied him.

Jezem

“Weeeeelllll, good for you!” Shivan commented, a tad sarcastically. It was a drastic change from Shivan’s own life. Poor, on the run, no honest job prospects, no place to live. Lacking regular meals, as his current physique proved. No medical care either. No one in his line of work lived long. It was a matter of time before something or someone picked him off. Maybe that was how it was meant to be, and in the meantime he was merely putting off the inevitable.

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Jezem debated grabbing Shivan by the throat and forcing the drink into his mouth. Not like Shivan could put up any kind of a fight in his state. Perhaps the Jezem of the past would have done that, especially since he had gone out of his way to make it. The drink may taste like rotten remains but worked. Instead he huffed and did something Shivan had never seen Jezem do before. He let it go.

Shivan half expected Jezem to walk over there and shove it down his throat. When he didn’t, Shivan did something surprising as well: A moment or two after Jezem seemed to have let it go, Shivan held his nose and drank the nasty, stinky drink. Then he gagged. That awful taste stuck to the mouth for hours.

“Eat up,” Jezem began to eat. Cooked red, green and yellow vegetables were smothered by a creamy orange sauce topped with roasted nuts and fresh herbs. Laid on top to the right of the bowl were slices of seasoned meat that were fried in oil. The bread, warm and baked with herbs on top was perfect for scooping and dipping.

Jezem

Shivan took some food for himself, a little of everything, and ate what he could. It wasn’t as much as he wanted. He wasn’t sure when he’d have another big, free meal like this again but at the moment he just couldn’t make himself eat that much of it. He nodded to Jezem, “Good as always.”

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Though shocked that Shivan willing drank the cup placed before him, he preened under the praise. In the past his cooking was passable, but he had no passion for the skill. It wasn’t until he began to cook for Argam thathe found the desire to make better and better food. Argam made many appreciative noises as he consumed his food with perhaps a bit too much fervor when there were guests but Jezem let it slide.

It wasn’t until most of Argam’s bowl was empty that he spoke again, “Will you be staying with us, Mr. Thyr? We do have many empty rooms, do we not, love?” Argam looked to Jezem who nodded.

“He’ll be staying with us. It’ll be easier to keep an eye on him that way,” Jezem’s sharp gaze found Shivan from across the table, “Just how many people are out to get you?” Debtors were simple enough to handle. If need be Jezem could delay them with payments. Everything else. . . he’ll just have to plan accordingly for. So long as Shivan stayed within the good graces of the Syndicate then all else could be handled.

Jezem

Shivan nodded to Jezem as a ‘thanks’ and then to Argam, “At least until I’m a little more healed… Or until Jezem gets sick of me and throws me out. Whichever comes first.” He met Jezem’s gaze sheepishly, and then dropped his focus and refused meet Jezem’s gaze again. He listed off a few debtors they both knew, then the name of someone known to be the boss of a dangerous group of thugs, then another name, the Federation of course, for various crimes, and then he trailed off, deciding whether to tell the truth or not.

Debtors. Simple. Dangerous group of thugs? Manageable. The Federation was only a problem if they ever unstuck their fingers from their noses long enough to actually get a sniff of what’s stewing beneath their feet. Though a bad situation over all it was nothing the two of them couldn’t work through. Oed V was hardly a bed of serious criminal activity so as long as Shivan kept his head down then they had time.

If Jezem knew Shivan was wanted by the Syndicate, there was a good chance he’d boot him out right here and now and he’d be fair, heck even right, to do so. And if Jezem did, Shivan would probably die sooner rather than later, either through infection of his wounds or somebody unsavory finding him when he was in no condition for a fight. But Jezem had once been his captain, and he’d already done a lot to help Shivan out. Hiding this from him was insanely dangerous for both of them. “The Syndicate as well. If they find me, they’ll want to have some very painful words with me.”

~ Thyr Th’arialat

His spoon dropped out of his hand and splattered into the bowl. Jezem stared blankly at Shivan, as though the other man had grown a second head. He suddenly stood, sending his chair clattering backwards. Ice filled his veins. Jezem began to pace beside the table. Anything Shivan could do or have done could be handled. Money passed to the right hands. The right words in the ears of the right people. There was almost no challenge that could not be solved. Except the Syndicate.

Jezem ran his hands down his face, then back through his loose hair. You do not cross the Syndicate. Jezem was no longer an active member of the Syndicate, he left in good standing with permission. A dear price paid by Argam. The correct thing to do was to hand Shivan over wrapped in a pretty bow. If he didn’t he’d risk retribution not only for himself but Argam as well. “Gods, Shivan.” Jezem groaned, every word punched out of him, “You know how the Syndicate operates. You know the loyalty they expect of their own.” The price of betraying that loyalty was far too steep.

Jezem

Shivan looked appropriately guilty and stressed. “I know, I know!” Everyone who helped him was potentially at risk. And if they found him… He’d almost rather the painful death than what they’d do if they didn’t kill him. And the death would be painful and not short. “It’s why I can’t get any jobs. But I didn’t have a choice. If I hadn’t done what I did, I’d have been dead six months ago.” He’d missed dues near the end too. Normally he was careful about that, and he knew that would surprise Jezem. But with how things had been going for him… He hadn’t been able to pay. Then that other thing had happened, and well… The Syndicate wasn’t big on second chances.

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Beautiful, magnanimous Aragm, raised his voice to be heard over their panic, “Now, now let’s think about this with clear heads. The Syndicate are brutal and powerful but they can be swayed-”

“Paying them off will not be enough!” Jezem snapped, “Rules were broken, their trust was betrayed and there must be punishment. The question is how do we satisfy their desire for justice enough that Shivan will live?” And that question. . . Was not an impossible one. Jezem turned away from the others to stare into the calm waters of the wading pool. Shivan can’t hide from the organization forever. The direct path will fail. . . They need a plan. Some how they must skirt under the justice of the Syndicate and pay what is due so that the Syndicate will spare him. It will not be without sacrifice.

Anger merged with acceptance. Jezem no was no longer active in the Syndicate or a captain but Shivan was his responsibility. His crews problems were his problems. Jezem left the pool and righted his chair. “Argam is right. The Syndicate can be swayed. It won’t be easy, it’s beyond difficult, but not impossible.”

Jezem

Shivan was silent while they talked about his fate. If they chose to hand him over, he wouldn’t blame them. A target on his back from the Syndicate was like being a walking target for a loose aiming cannon. Jezem was right, a payoff wouldn’t free Shivan, nor would Shivan ever have enough money for a payoff. “I was going to just stay here for a while, then get off this rock and find somewhere else to go, but…” He gestured to the bandaged injuries. He was still shirtless. “I’m not even sure how I’m going to walk to a bedroom.”

When Jezem seemed to cool off and suggested the Syndicate could be swayed, Shivan looked up at him like his personal saviour. “My price is likely more than even Argam can pay. And my crime will not be forgotten. What can be done?”

~ Thyr Th’arialat

“I’d kill you before I allow Argam to pay your debt,” Jezem said, voice as cold as stone. Argam bought him out of the Syndicate. Valued him as equal to his father’s incredible fortune. He would kill anyone who dared to take away from his worth. And Argam, Sisters bless him, gently patted Jezem’s hand.

Shivan shrugged, “You’d make it quicker than they will.”

“Never, beloved. The thought has not crossed my mind.” Argam’s assurances calmed Jezem. The rage that could and has boiled over into incredible violence was soothed.

“What did I tell you about being dramatic? Your price will be your missed payments with interest added to your total payments into the Syndicate. Because you cannot pay they will kill you slowly and painfully then go after your family who will either be killed or enslaved. There are two things we must do. Secure your payment and make the Syndicate believe that you’ve suffered so greatly, sacrificed everything, your health your future, everything until your life is a living hell that it satisfies their justice.”

Jezem

“I have no family,” Shivan replied with a shrug. “I’d like to see the Syndicate try to go after a couple of years-dead corpses.” He gave Jezem a look, “And how exactly do we do that? There’s no way I can make enough money to pay what I owe. And how do I convince them I’ve sacrificed everything? Preferably without actually doing it?”

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Jezem considered all his available assets. He dabbled in stock trading when the dullness of colony-life weighed down upon him. Though that should be saved to keep the debtors off of Shivan. Then there was his slave trade investments. . . It couldn’t pay the entirety of Shivan’s debt but it was a starting point. At it’s worth it would give them a massive boost towards earning the full amount. “I need to think it over.” Jezem said, far too tired to think of proper plans or ideas. The thought of getting Shivan into one of the guest rooms nearly brought him to fainting.

Maybe he needs some of that health drink.

Jezem

Shivan nodded. He was not going to argue with the person trying to get him out of this mess alive. “What do you want me to do?” Despite Jezem’s words earlier he did not enjoy being a freeloader. Not wanting to make Jezem help him, he moved to stand, his hand pressed over his injury. He grunted and bit his tongue to keep from crying out, not even halfway to standing, and collapsed back into the chair, breathing hard with pained breaths. Maybe he could just sleep on the floor here.

~ Thyr Th’arialat

“You’ll need to think of something to earn money. Enough to keep people from outright killing you in the street. Next time someone comes for you and your ugly mug you’ll be able to delay them with a cash payment.” That should keep Shivan plenty busy once he’s healed enough. Busy enough to stay out of further trouble and keep his hands clean. Oh who was he kidding? Shivan loses all brain cells the moment he spies an interesting or shiny weapon. He’d try to pinch the knife off a klingon simply because it was there in front of him. Gods, what has he gotten himself into?

Jezem

Shivan frowned and nodded. “I haven’t made an honest dime in my life.” He sighed and shrugged, “I’ll ponder what I can do later. I want to sleep.” He glanced at Jezem and awkwardly said, “Uh, thanks… You know. For everything.”

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Gods, what is this warmth and. . .colorful emotion building inside him? This feeling of. . . contentment and. . .Gods is that. . . happiness? Jezem would puke but Shivan wouldn’t appreciate that. He did deserve it for putting this. . . emotion into him. Jezem couldn’t quite make eye contact when he spoke next, “Stop thanking me. There’s no need for that. Now get ready, I’m going to take you to your new room.” He lowered himself so Shivan could comfortably get an arm around his shoulders and be at the right height to leverage himself.

Shivan set an arm around his shoulders and put his weight on Jezem with a grunt. He breathed heavily, gripping Jezem. “Let’s go.”

“No complaining about the room. Argam wanted to decorate the guestrooms.” Compromise must be apart of any marriage. Argam got to decorate the guest rooms and Jezem got to design the courtyard. The guestrooms were not far, and one connected to the courtyard on the other side through a sliding door.

Jezem

“I don’t care if it looks like a barn if it’s safe and has a bed,” Shivan commented as they very slowly and painfully headed towards the guestroom that would be his.

~ Thyr Th’arialat

Eventually they reach their destination. Jezem grimaced at the decor which was in-your-face ferengi. Overly bold in clashing colors and everything looked heavy and stiff. Terrible. It made Argam happy. Jezem gently deposited Shivan onto the bed and pulled back the corner of the covers so he could wiggle under them without too much fuss. “There’s no house staff to clean up after you so don’t make a mess because I ain’t cleaning you up either.” A pause, “But I will be by to change your bandages. I don’t trust you enough to let you do that yourself.”

Jezem

Shivan chuckled. That particular concern wasn’t without precedent. “If you had to clean up after me, I think I’d die of embarrassment. I’m not a total slob.” Wincing and grunting, he worked under the covers and pulled them up. The room was ugly and overly Ferengi in design. Shivan could throw up looking at it. He kept his mouth shut, for once.

~ Thyr Th’arialat