driftfleet | Why'd You Kill the Merchant?!

Fenris kept the man to the wall, anger and hate simmered in his eyes, had Kirk not reasoned with him, the man would be dead on the ground by now. He'd be moving onto the next one.

"You're wasting your time," he growled out, fingers tightening. "Besides, how can we be sure he'll tell the truth anyway?"

The man yelped at the tightening fingers, at the sharp metal tips of Fenris' gauntlets catching and digging into skin.

"I'll tell you! Okay, okay, I'll show you what I got. But it's not here. So jut call 'im off and I'll get it for you."

"You seriously think I'm new at this," Kirk clucked his tongue at the man, shaking his head. He stepped away from him, giving Fenris a better line of sight so to speak.

"You will get it for us, but we will be following you. When I am convinced the information you have given us is valid, you will then give us the information on your competitors - as much as you have. If at any time I feel you are being dishonest, well..."

He looked meaningfully at Fenris and back at the man. Up to you, sir.

"I suggest, to make this as painless as possible, you are both quick and accurate."

"Okay! Right! Whatever you want, I swear!"

Fenris kept the man there for a moment, eyes narrowed, lyrium pulsing. He would have liked nothing more than to tear his heart out that second. Rip the life right out of him, make it so he could never rip someone else's life out of them ever again. He wouldn't get any joy out of the killing. Slavers were just vermin that need to be exterminated. It was as simple as that.

Not many people could sway Fenris from a decision, once he made one. He was horrifically bull-headed, even more so around the subject of slavery. Had Kirk been anyone else, he would have ignored him. Put down his words as idle, weak nothings. An idea that would fold in on itself the second they tried to put it into action.

For a second. Just a second. He almost did it. There was a flash of something awful in his eyes- before it faded as suddenly as it had arrived. He opened his hand, dropping the man heavily to the ground. The man scrambled up, fear and confusion in his face as Fenris finally spoke again.

"Do not make me regret this choice."

That could have been aimed at the slaver, or Kirk. Possibly both of them.

His stomach churned, twisted with cold knives, at that look. It was a side of Fenris he had never seen and never wanted to see again. It was the look of men he had put down, stopped from committing horrible, terribly sins - or at least stopped from committing more. It was a look he remembered seeing in Krall's eyes, the look that had finally convinced him that Krall was far to gone to truly save.

It vanished and the tension in his shoulders relaxed some. No, Fenris wasn't like Krall or the others. He moved to walk slightly in front of him after the slaver, motioning for the man to get up.

"Be quick," he told the man. "And one more thing - you'll provide a map of this way station. See, that's not to much now is it?"

Fenris let Kirk step at the front. A shaky exhale left his chest. He'd come close. Perhaps too close. He still wanted to kill the man. But Kirk spoke the truth. He also realised that letting go of that control...it might be it for him. Or at least his relationship with a man he greatly respected.

The man nodded, his eyes full of fear, glancing quickly over at Fenris, before scuttling forward. He made sure to keep Kirk and himself between the elf as he headed off into another secluded part of the waystation.

Kirk didn't carry on much conversation as they walked. He tried to affect the air of a man who had come to buy, followed by a body guard of some sort. It seemed to work, or else people simply didn't care to delve to deeply into each other's business. Either way it worked for them.

Kirk kept himself mostly between the man and Fenris when they reached the room, but stood just enough to let Fenris act as a looming threat (not one he intended to use, but the man didn't need to know that). Quietly he waited, reviewing data as it was handed to him. He had no real way to ascertain if it was accurate, but it was something.

"Thank you for your cooperation," he smiled at the man, then abruptly reached out and pinched at the juncture of neck and shoulder. The man dropped like a stone and Kirk put his datapad away, turning back to Fenris.

"All right, the map says the central com links aren't that far."

Fenris watched the man drop to the ground with some element of surprise. That was...unexpected. He frowned down at the prone figure for a moment, before turning his attention back to Kirk. Right. The matter at hand.

He knew it wouldn't really solve anything, but he equally knew that it would do more than knocking off the bastards one at a time. It was worth a try.

"Good. We had best move before they get wind of it and run."

Kirk is full of them, Fenris. And times like these he's glad that he had Spock teach him that particular move. He'd had to coerce it out of him, but it all worked out for the best, no?

He nodded and followed. "We'll get out as much information as we can. But I'll need you on the door while I do it. If anyone comes - knock them out, do not kill them, understand?" he ordered as he hurried down the hall, striding confidently as if he belonged there.

Fenris' fists clenched again, and any ease that had come into his features quickly vanished. He took a deep, cleansing breath, but it did nothing.

"I did not kill the man out of respect for you. And because your idea made sense," he did his best to keep his tone quiet, level. "But do not order me to do anything. I will do a lot of things for you, Kirk, but that is something I cannot and will not tolerate. Not ever again. Not from anyone."

Kirk paused, turning to look at Fenris. A part of him understood. A former slave wouldn't be partial to orders, would they? He hadn't been ordering him with the sense he was his object, that he would have to obey. It was a reaction from being the captain, being the leader, and expecting to be obeyed because the other trusted him, not because he had to do anything.

"I framed it that way because we don't have the time to argue about it, Fenris," he said calmly. "I explained before - the more people you kill here, the more chance of retaliation from these people against the rest of the Fleet. Further, an immediate response will be launched against dead bodies versus knocked out bodies. And likely the people knocked out won't be so eager to talk about what happened for the fear of losing face. I know I don't have authority over you, not really, and you don't have to do what I say. But you'll have to forgive me if, in high stress situations, I default to what I am - a captain, and one fighting for your cause."

He turned and kept on moving, rounding a corner and making for a door with a data pad beside it, but on inspection it wasn't locked. Security wasn't that big an issue, at least int his part of the station, it seemed. He keyed it open and went in, sitting down at the main console chair, cracked his knuckles, and began tapping away.

"This is going to ruin quite a few people's days, I'm sure."

"It takes but a moment to say please," Fenris replies, his tone still level. "You'll have to forgive me if I ignore you if you when you forget that."

He couldn't and wouldn't do it. Accept an order. Not even Hawke- any Hawke - could manage it. It would always put his back up, no matter who was giving it. It brushed far too close to Danarius for Fenris to be comfortable with it.

"My intention is to ruin their lives, not just their days."

"Trust me, you made that very clear," Kirk said, somewhere between chagrined and frustrated with the elf.

He could see his point of view, why the orders would be so unpleasant for him. But he didn't give them from the same relationship standpoint that Darius had, and in situations like this he didn't feel he had time to walk on egg shells around someone. Either get it done or go back to the ship. Outside of this instance, he had never ordered the other to do anything either.

Well, it could be worked out later. Right now was not the time to be arguing over what to say and how to say it.

"I'm broadcasting the information on all the main channels I can," he informed Fenris. "Drop off points, pick ups, any buyer info and bank info. No doubt some people in power have been ignoring this, but with an information dump of this caliber they won't be able to. Media outlets will eat it up. This will begin the cracking of the enterprise, and if not destroy it in this sector than certainly damage it significantly."

Fenris remained silent, stoic, his point made...for now. He listened to Kirk as he spoke, arms folded, eyes following anyone who dares to step too near to them as they walked past. When Kirk finished speaking, the elf finally turned his attention fully on the man, surprise crossing his features.

"That is...actually very good."

Surprise, he actually has good ideas. Some people didn't seem to believe that for whatever reason, which he found ridiculous considering he was, in fact, the captain of an actual spaceship.

"Strike at the head, not the tail. Or as close to it as you can get," he said, turning off his pad and sliding it into a pocket. "We'll keep the info, just in case, and let this do what it needs to do. In the meantime, let's make ourselves scarce, shall we?" He pushed up from the chair and made for the door.

Fenris didn't have faith in a lo of people, generally. But he did have it in Kirk. It was good to see it was not completely unfounded.

"Good," he still would have rather hunted down the slaver owners themselves, destroy them, wipe them from existence.... but you can't always have what you want. "Hm. Fight another day."

Not that he feared retribution- far from it, he welcomed it. Let them come. But Kirk would only stop him from killing the damn idiots who came for them. It would make things...complicated. So, for now, it was time to move. He stood in a fluid motion, following Kirk out.

He would stop him because it would ignite a cycle that would consume more than just Fenris and the slavers. Men like this weren't the kind to take out their anger on the party who had inflicted the damage. It would spread, and innocents within the Fleet would pay the price, likely in blood and other trauma. That Fenris did not see this was a disappointment to him, but that was a conversation for another day.

"So the saying goes," he agreed, stepping out and closing the door behind them. "I suggest staying low for awhile - maybe head out into the forests for a bit. I've been reading an odd signal from deeper in and was going to explore. You're welcome to come with me, Fenris."

Fenris was never good at seeing the bigger picture. It was a weakness of his.

"That...would likely be wise," his tone suggests he doesn't like it, but this is a dance he's done for years now. Strike and hide, strike and hide. "That...maybe be an interesting venture. There's something strange about that planet. It sets the lyrium off."

And anything that does that needs to be closely watched, in his opinion.

"Well, all the more reason for us to spend some time away from here then," Kirk nodded, strolling through the halls as if nothing was wrong, as if he had not just broadcasted a very large and damning amount of information across several frequencies into space that would no doubt reach governing bodies, news stations, and regular folk very soon.

"Let's head back to the ship and pick up some supplies," he suggested. "We can move out from there once we get a better heading on that signal. Sound good?" Not that he's waiting for an answer as he strides ahead, clearly happier with the idea of exploring than he was of attempting to moderate Fenris' murderous fits.

Fenris followed quietly, listening. He gave a nod of his head, that was a good plan. He wasn't overly thrilled on exploring the planet that made his markings ache and flare- but it was better than staying put, or staying on the Tourist and marking a target on his crewmates.

"That works for me, yes."

Why'd You Kill the Merchant?!

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