Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2014 9:49:52 GMT -8
One moment Sig was there, the next moment, he was gone. Actually, that wasn't totally true. Sig was probably still in the Brig, putting away the dermal regenerator he had used on the Cardassian. It was Dakbar who was gone, whisked away by a transporter beam directly to wherever this place was.
He looked around at the room. It looked nothing like anything on the Talon, and it was cold. Dakbar tugged on the sleeves of his orange shirt, pulling them back down over his wrists that no longer showed any sign of his previous struggles against restraints. For a moment, absolute terror overcame him at the thought that he was back with his own people, under their scrutiny. Breathing heavily, he willed himself to relax. The lines of the room were wrong, the scent was different. Wherever he was, it was not on Cardassia or any sort of Cardassian ship.
Finally able to think somewhat clearly, he further examined his surroundings. There was a thin, red line at the threshold of the alcove in which he stood and he found himself reluctant to cross it. Instead, he observed from a distance. Wherever he was, it was well-funded. High-tech, top of the line consoles lined the wall to the left, and a workbench full of gear stretched along the wall to the right. There were items everywhere that he could use as a weapon, but he continued to remain in place, that thin, red line mocking him, taunting him with its threat.
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He looked around at the room. It looked nothing like anything on the Talon, and it was cold. Dakbar tugged on the sleeves of his orange shirt, pulling them back down over his wrists that no longer showed any sign of his previous struggles against restraints. For a moment, absolute terror overcame him at the thought that he was back with his own people, under their scrutiny. Breathing heavily, he willed himself to relax. The lines of the room were wrong, the scent was different. Wherever he was, it was not on Cardassia or any sort of Cardassian ship.
Finally able to think somewhat clearly, he further examined his surroundings. There was a thin, red line at the threshold of the alcove in which he stood and he found himself reluctant to cross it. Instead, he observed from a distance. Wherever he was, it was well-funded. High-tech, top of the line consoles lined the wall to the left, and a workbench full of gear stretched along the wall to the right. There were items everywhere that he could use as a weapon, but he continued to remain in place, that thin, red line mocking him, taunting him with its threat.
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