A Wulfe In Sheep's Clothing

Posted on Thu Aug 10th, 2023 @ 1:23pm by Darius Wulfe

Mission: Character Development
Location: Kavis Sector
Timeline: During Trial (Backpost)
Tags: Golden PADD Submission 2023
2577 words - 5.2 OF Standard Post Measure

Dark eyes skimmed the Federation news reports as they crawled across the screen. The best way to keep track of Starfleet’s movements was through various channels, even if many of the reports were routine updates on the business conducted in sector 001. Currently occupying the PADD’s display was breaking news from Earth, some formerly decorated Captain facing charges for murdering a glorified seat warmer. Good, one less Federation dictator to tell others how to conduct their business, and soon to be two when this Captain is found guilty.

Darius Wulfe took a slow sip of his tea as he continued to read the report, the short strands of his day-old stubble gently protesting the cup’s presence. When was the last time he had even been to Earth? It was certainly not recent; it was still too risky for him to conduct business in that area, despite his efforts to remain under the radar. His cup lowered slightly when one of the reports mentioned that members of the crew would be testifying, piquing his interest. On a whim, he decided to request the crew manifest of the ship known as Athena, mostly out of boredom but also to see who now held the reins. If it wasn't one political sycophant, it was another. These requests often took a few minutes, since his connection to various channels rotated frequencies to avoid detection, but eventually the list appeared on his screen. Leaning back, Darius began to take another sip as he skimmed the names, but paused when he got to a name he happened to recognize.

Zade.

When he first came across that name four years ago, Darius harbored doubts. Even if she had survived the homicide thirteen years ago, he assumed she would become a nobody in society. But this was the second time he had seen the name in a Starfleet ship manifest, and the odds of it being a coincidence were slim. “Intriguing…” he mused aloud.

“What’s intriguing, Mr. Wulfe?” a voice asked. A Trill with chin-length, curly hair approached the table Darius was occupying. In her hands was her own cup of tea, something floral compared to the rugged woodsy scent coming from his cup. It was late morning, and she had finished her morning tasks before deciding to get breakfast, which was when she spotted her boss. Stopping at the table, she gestured towards the empty chair across from him.

Glancing up from the PADD, Darius gave a nod toward the chair, discreetly shutting off the device so she couldn’t see its contents. It was an agreement they had established early on--that he would only share with her what he deemed necessary. He had insisted that certain matters were for his eyes only, but he didn't tell her that he wanted to avoid the risk of her seeing something she wasn’t supposed to. Like the manifest he was perusing. “Recent news. Some enforcer of bureaucratic dictatorship was killed, and they caught the culprit. Looks like another Starfleet Captain will be taken out of the game.” While he didn’t show it, he was initially spooked by the Trill's presence after reading the manifest. Every once in a while, he forgot how similar the two siblings looked, even though he hadn’t seen the other one in thirteen years. What did her sister look like now?

The Trill occupied the seat upon confirmation. “Good. Makes our work easier,” she replied simply, gently blowing air across the top of her cup to cool the liquid inside. Darius always preferred the spots by the window, and she took a moment to glance out at the passing stars. Their small ship may be an amalgamation of different components, but it fulfilled its purpose well. It took them where they needed to go and protected them from danger.

“Speaking of work,” Darius added, his focus on her. “We got a request for some data acquisition.” In many cases, ‘data acquisition’ meant visiting a planet's colony, or occasionally boarding starbases or ships, to steal data from their computers. It was risky work, but that’s why they installed the cloak a couple years ago. “I’ll have details once the customer is satisfied with the price.”

A brief nod was the Trill’s response. This was often the way things went: he informed her that they would have a job, details would be shared once an agreement was reached, then they would go complete the task and get paid. She wasn’t too fond of ‘data acquisition’ jobs, but they did pay well, so she did her best to tolerate them. Finally turning her attention back to Darius, the Trill gave him a smile. “In other news, I finally chose a name.”

The man across from her arched his brows with interest. “Oh?”

With a smile, the woman responded with a nod of confidence. “I want to be called Nirell Korid.” Satisfied with how it sounded as it danced off her lips, the Trill sat back in her chair and watched him with anticipation. “It came to me last night, and it just feels right.”

Nodding slowly, Darius brushed his hand through his tousled, hazel-brown hair, chasing down an itch. “Nirell Korid…” he repeated thoughtfully. The woman before him had a difficult life, living in the shadow of someone else’s legacy. Her anticipation of his reply took the form of slight fidgeting with the cup in her hands as she watched him mull it over. It reminded him that, as the ship's captain, she sought his approval for everything, even small things like this. “It suits you. I will make sure the roster is updated.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wulfe,” Nirell beamed, taking a sip of her tea. She savored the flavor for a moment, then stared at the cup in her hands as she remembered the reason for changing her name. “I’m tired of being reminded that I’m related to her, even if she isn't around anymore,” she added bitterly.

Darius turned his attention to the passing stars. He debated if he should tell Nirell that her sister was actually alive and that she wasn't free of her influence just yet. If Nirell knew, there was a great chance that she would find out the truth about what actually happened to their parents. He spent years convincing Nirell that her sister was to blame for their deaths, and her sister’s mere existence could unravel that thoroughly developed story in an instant. It was a risk he couldn't take. If he pretended to not know that her sister was alive, then it wouldn't hurt him if Nirell ever found out for herself. "It's not fair what she did to you. It's understandable that you still resent her. Your new name grants you a fresh start."

Nirell narrowed her eyes at the cup, as if silently blaming it for her problems. “I know it does… but it still hurts.” A week from tomorrow would be her 21st birthday, as well as the thirteenth anniversary of her parent's deaths, and… it was bittersweet. Thirteen years ago, she walked into the living room to see her parents bleeding out on the floor, and Darius was trying to calm her down when her sister showed up. Initially, she was equally shocked, then her expression changed into anger, a raw emotion that seemed like it had been simmering for a while. She didn't know who her sister was angry at, but Darius had explained that it was because Nirell had caught her sister in the act and was still breathing. If Nirell was still alive, it meant she could rat out her sister, and that would certainly not be allowed. Darius had saved her that day, chasing her traitorous sister out of the family house and eventually killing her out of revenge. She remembered when he returned, his warm embrace slowly eroding the numbing cage that kept her kneeling next to the two lifeless bodies staining the carpet.

The Trill glanced up at Darius again, watching his dark eyes skip as they tracked the passing stars. Thanks to him, she was alive. He fled with her, stating that it wasn’t safe in the house anymore, and once they made it to the ship he had transported her father aboard to rescue the Kal symbiont. To save Kal meant saving her father as well, in a sense. Nirell’s expression softened as she observed the man who became her father figure. He cared for her, provided support and nurturing, and while he insisted that she never had to repay him, Nirell felt obligated to show her appreciation. So she became a part of his crew and supported his business.

Sensing the weight of her gaze, Darius turned his head to see Nirell staring at him, lost in thought. He knew her birthday was near, and she usually turned bitter around this time of the year. “Your birthday is soon. I’ll make sure we have a proper celebration this year,” he assured.

After the words left his mouth, an idea suddenly came to mind, and for a moment, Darius silently entertained it. Surely, it would provide some closure to Nirell if he could find her sister, yet the risk lingered that Nirell would find out that he had known of her sister's existence and neglected to tell her. There was one major problem with the idea: Starfleet took the abduction of their loyalists seriously, and there would be no doubt that their little ship would be forced into hiding. Additionally, it was a waste of resources to go out of their way just to find the sister… unless he could find someone interested in such valuable cargo. Information was often rewarded with a price high enough to make a Ferengi blush. Perhaps he could find someone willing to provide generous compensation for delivery of a Starfleet conformist, even if the deliverable wouldn’t be in mint condition once Nirell had her way. That someone would also have to be willing to take on the hardship of fleeing the Feds, and many of his business partners preferred to steer clear of anything involving Starfleet. It was certainly an idea that required more consideration than what could be provided over breakfast.

Nirell gave him a smile at his words. He was always so generous, thinking of her. She watched him follow a train of thought, evident by his eyes slightly unfocusing as a hand gently fiddled with the stubble on his chin. “Mr. Wulfe…” she gently began, watching his eyes focus back onto her. There was never a need to hide her emotions from him, so her expression conveyed her earnest desire to help him. More often than not, when Darius followed a train of thought, it meant he had a potential business proposition. “Let me help you, please. I’m not that little kid anymore, I can plan, I can help you get new contacts.”

Darius considered her words for a few seconds. Perhaps she could be of use while he worked out the details. It was imperative, however, that she didn’t find out the whole story. “Perhaps I’ll take you up on that. I know of some information that would be quite valuable, but acquiring it comes with substantial risk. I need to scope out buyers who are willing to take on that risk, otherwise this information will not be worth pursuing.”

“O-of course,” Nirell stammered, surprised that he took her up on her offer. Usually, he would tell her not to worry about it, that he would handle the details. She trusted his judgement, and at the same time, the Trill felt a sense of caution. Why the change of heart? “How much detail about the job will the buyers get?”

“Enough to be satisfied,” came the curt response. She was getting nosey, and Darius needed to maintain their dynamic. He controlled the information for his ship.

Hesitation hit Nirell hard, and she regretted asking. Her back pressed into the back of the chair as she slightly recoiled from the response. She trusted Darius and respected him, but the lack of information often felt like he was keeping her at arm’s length. She wanted to be involved and help him run his business. Perhaps he had been doing it alone for so long that he wasn’t yet comfortable sharing the work. “Yes, Mr. Wulfe,” she quietly said, her hesitation evident in her tone.

The slight flinch from Nirell confirmed Darius’ concern that he may have been harsh in his reply. As much as he tried to treat her well, it was necessary to establish certain boundaries. “What I meant,” he began, softening his voice, “... is that I still need to work out the details. You will get what you need to convince potential buyers that this is a worthwhile investment.” To assert his care, he leaned forward and placed a hand gently on hers, giving her an assuring smile. “I want your involvement, Nirell. This idea simply needs thorough consideration to be successful.”

Despite the gentle pressure on her hand, Nirell still had some hesitation… or was it concern? "I understand, Mr. Wulfe," she replied hesitantly. He was a stubborn man, so she was still trying to understand why he even considered her offer to help. Did she finally prove that she was worthy of helping him? Did his view of her change? "I want to help however I can. I want you to know that you can trust me."

"You will have a chance to help," Darius assured, giving her hand a gentle pat. With his other hand, he finished the last of his tea and set the cup back on the table between them. "Expect information and a list of people to contact by the end of the day."

As Darius finished his tea, Nirell realized that he didn't respond to her desire to be trusted, and her expression fell slightly. She spared a fleeting glance at the PADD that he had turned off when she arrived, seemingly symbolic proof of that lack of trust. He would tell her what she needed to know, but the way he had calmly but quickly turned off the device gave her the nagging feeling that he was hiding something. She knew better than to ask, however. Turning her attention back to him, she finally responded with, "yes, Mr. Wulfe."

Removing his hand, Darius picked up the PADD to check the time, making sure she couldn't see the contents as it reappeared on the screen. "I should start planning. The opportunities may change." With that, he stood and collected his things. He was about to leave when he saw her disappointed expression. A benefit to establishing that she could trust him was that she didn’t hide her emotions, so it was easy to understand what she was feeling. Shifting his things to one arm, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Nirell, I do trust you," he said, a half-truth. "I'm used to doing things a certain way, and it's difficult for me to accept change. Please, forgive my resistance."

Nirell looked up at him, seeing sincerity in his eyes. Her disappointment would linger for a while, but at least he was making the effort to change. She gave him a small smile and a nod. "Of course, Mr. Wulfe. I understand."