Location: club Bliss
After a couple of weeks patrolling and looking out for Klingon interests in Wild Space, Surla had ordered the Bloodwing to 249. As always they played the game for approach, obeying all the damn rules Starfleet put on traffic--not that there was a lot of it currently. She ahd observed through various means that the merchants were returning now that her House was settled and in the throes of building for the future. As yet, they had not received any more information regarding Gorgon. He was still on the loose, still evading her inquiries as to his location. As a Klingon her patience was wearing thin and it often showed with how she would bark at her subordinates, moreso than usual.
After docking was complete Surla led an entourage of Klingons to Bliss, finding the doors closed and locked for maintenance and cleaning in the early afternoon. Opening the plate cover Surla input her private code for access, the doors opening with her walking in, being trailed by her group.
Trinity, having copied all station news to actual paper, sat reading the newspaper at her table in the private niche. Sipping her gourmet Earth coffee, looking up when the doors opened, Trinity set her cup down and stood.
Surla, making her way over, almost began the motions for meeting and hugging, until Trinity opened her mouth.
"Damn it, Surla!" says Trinity, looking her friend up and down, at all the baubles she now wore from enemies slain. "What were you thinking?" Trin was glad for the private area around her niche, no internal sensors or listening devices. "You have disrupted the entire region's space traffic!"
Her anger rising, and not able to hold it back after these long weeks of battle, Surla put her right hand on Trinity's throat, gripping.
Trinity, having never been the object of Surla's ire, felt shock overcome her. She made to call for backup. "Ha...!"
Before she could call for her photonic abomination, Surla's grip tightened enough to cut off the call for help. Hooking her left hand under Trin's right armpit and lifting the El-Aurian in the air by arm and neck, Surla finished by slamming Trinity onto her back on a tabletop. "How soon you forget who I am!"
Trinity, her back now aching from the impact, coughed and sputtered as some of the air had been forced from her lungs, her friend leaning over her and still squeezing. Giving an effort to release the offending hand she clawed at Surla's gauntlet to no avail.
"I am Klingon!" Surla raising her voice so that no misunderstanding would occur. "This is WHO I AM! That will always come first, petaQ! I honor all alliances, spill blood for my people, conquer and kill for the good of the Empire!" Stepping back as she released her grip, Surla kept glaring as Trinity was recovering.
Coughing heavily once the hand had been removed, Trinity rolled sideways off the table, landing on hands and knees on the floor as she was using a chair to maintain that much. After several large breaths to satisfy her burning lungs, and getting to her feet unsteadily, Trinity turned around, facing Surla. "I..have never forgotten..who you are." Now, her own anger arisen, Trinity was ready to face off with her sister by another mother.
Surla, taking a step closer and grabbing Trinity by the front of her outfit, brought in a fist quick as could be and blasted her old friend in the face with three blows, causing Trinity to stand groggily as blood poured from her nose and split lip. Releasing the El-Aurian and seeing her flop down into the chair she had just used to support herself. "Were you anyone else you would be dead! Do not presume to tell me my business...sister." Surla, bending at the waist and placing hands on knees, looking into Trin's eyes. "Here the lesson ends." Standing up straight, looking down at Trinity. "I came for a friendly visit, not an argument."
"Get out," says Trinity, standing up steadily, her anger over-riding her rattled brain. "I offer an apology for how I started this conversation. You are right..I was in the wrong. However, it does not take away from the fact you assaulted me in my own domain, and for that, we are done. You will get no more support from The Cabal."
Surla, hearing the finality in those words, spun on her heel and made her way out of the club. Once out on the promenade and glancing around it began to dawn on her that this entire level had the markings of Trinity. Every business. For those not in the know it was extremely subtle, nothing really to see. But, for those who had worked in and among The Cabal, it was obvious with the signs and symbols denoted by furniture arrangement, small stickers here and there, holo-signs--you name it. In the underworld and black market these small signs gave others information as to who was in charge, and that getting permission for illicit activities would be a wise choice. What had she just done?
Trinity, watching her one-time sister leave, made her way behind the bar and took down a medkit. Opening it and bringing out the dermal regenerator she got the settings right and then began to heal her face in a mirror. Never again, she thought to herself, will I let this happen. Surla was not an enemy, but the friendship had been damaged simply by the needs of their cultures. Maybe, just maybe, putting on a uniform again was what Trinity needed to do. She could still operate beneath the scenes, aid those who would do her, and Starfleet, favors through their actions. A give and take. Her friend Quark had had to do that with Captain Sisko. Certain activities of his were overlooked if he aided the DS9 personnel from time to time, and so on.