Michael's gaze lingered as the familiar gold flurried away from her sight to an immediate surrounding is distaste. The air was hot and pungent with the stench of sewage and rot that hung around; Klingon scents though lessened the distaste as well as the lingering smells of other blood. One had a coppery tang in the air, much stronger than the Klingon and it had a…unique smell to it that lingered in its undertones. It didn't tickle her senses in a good manner either.
She knew Orion's were well known for producing Pheromones, especially the females to deceit almost all other male species for their gain, except Vulcans. Though a glance to Paul showed he was far from impressed with the smell as she was. She had to hope that vampires were immune to those effects.
Georgiou tittered, pulling a face of disgust before she wiped it away though her eyes had once again darkened but not fully black. "Let's go." She didn't wait, starting at an immediate fast pace down the alley. Paul grabbed the bag they had of a few prototypes weapons; their cover. Tyler struggled to keep up.
Michael kept in pace with Georgiou though she could see the attention that was given to them immediately from those who they passed; their pallor and red eyes would show them easily. It felt clear that vampire's news reached down here too.
Georgiou slowed a fraction as they got to the outpost centre; busier section and the stalls. Though Michael found her senses lit with commotion; the sounds of voices, steps and thudding heart beats were the most predominant ones to her ears, then the sound of metal coins, hissings of steam, music… thudding grunting sounds of people copulating down 20 meters down in a bar tent where there were lot of people gathered.
The smells were almost just as blended now, bloods and food balanced each other out though she could smell the Orion blood were coppery in hint, but the female scents were much more potent. Klingon scents too though there were a few other species in the mix, Trill, a couple of inebriated human scents that was tainted with other wrong substances, and even a few Vulcans.
Lights, pots of fire, black marker of weapon stalls, food, trinkets, stolen goods of many different cultures, even a side selection of drugs in many different forms; gas, liquids, dust or solid mass; all contained to be sold. There was a tent in the centre and the sounds of music and thuds left little to the imagination. She could assume the slave trade was still about but she heard nothing of that particular trade in this particular outpost.
Michael glanced back to Georgiou, watching her run her own assessments before she stepped forwards, taking the lead though the attention soon came to a single Orion woman, cladded up in leather and dark long hair, a weapons dealer that pulled out her gun.
"Keep walking, Federation, no—" The woman didn't have time to finish before Georgiou moved, darting ahead and suddenly grabbed the woman by the throat, pulling the woman's taller height down towards her.
There was an immediate instinct to stop her but Michael realised that the woman was still alive; Georgiou was in control. Philippa's lips were drawn back, her eyes black and her fangs were bared inches from the woman's face, her hand wrapped tightly around her neck and very prominently tight as the Orion struggled for breath, both hands clawing into her stone flesh, the gun laying at their feet. Though it was easy to see the woman's demeanour shift; her eyes wide, her mouth agape and fear tainted through her blood.
Tyler twitched with unease; but Michael ignored his look though held a hand out; signalling it was okay. Paul placed the bag down and folded his arms though he still didn't look as pleased.
"Threaten me again, I'll make sure you feel every ounce of your blood leave your body." The hiss was quiet though it didn't need to be loud in the woman's position. Georgiou let go, allowing the Orion to fall back, gasping heavily; her heart thumping wildly in her chest but she seemed to force herself up again, back straight. Satisfied, Georgiou nodded the bag. "We're here to trade, let's not turn it into a massacre."
The Orion looked over, passing over their faces; lingering for a moment on Tyler before they dropped to the bag. Tyler bent down, opening up the bag and pulled out two weapons.
"Nausicaan disrupter pistols. Latest design. Paralithum cell bean with pulse firing mode. Pollyalloy cases, making it all but invisible to security screeners." Tyler explained, passing it over as he spoke.
With the focus on the trade than impending doom, the Orion grasped the weapons, testing its weight in her hand, it's flexibility in her hand, testing the settings.
"Two thousand Darseks." Georgiou announced.
The Orion eyed her before her eyes flickered back to the bag. "What else you got?"
Michael felt a tap to her arm, Paul nodded his head away. Eying both Georgiou and Tyler, she nodded, flicking off until they reached a little quieter area. Michael glanced to Stamets.
"I hate being drags into things like this." He muttered, shaking his head. "First my transformation, then Star base one, now this?"
"Tilly was an alternative suggestion but I shot that idea down." Michal replied softly, "Orions and Klingons would know better to take on three vampires, but I didn't want to risk Tilly should…something happen." Though she knew Tyler was at just as much risk; he had an emergency beam out option on him for a reason. He was willing to take those risks.
Paul hummed softly, "It makes me uneasy."
"Hm, hopefully this is the last thing we have to do like this."
Michael spared a glance around, though she felt his lingering red stare but she didn't press him for it. It would be odd, certainly to leave Discovery; leave him. Since his transformation, she hadn't realised the…separation would make her somewhat anxious.
He had been part of her Clan. Someone she had turned—created into a vampire; someone who learned from her. While there was certainly no parental bond, she knew a familiar-bond had. Little more than a friends but not like a sibling. Michael could understand that this was the clan bond they had. She hadn't had a clan member with a bond that wasn't on Discovery. A new experience, she supposed, leaving Paul. She never formed that bond with Cornwell, despite their shared genetic link from her venom; different circumstances separated them.
Even if she did help Georgiou; it would seem the woman would disappear at the available opportunity. She'd be at the facility alone and without her clan. The idea… it unsettled her… but she'd have to make do. She had no other options.
"Are you alright?" Stamets's voice had changed, replaced from his usual tone to…something that expressed clear concern… more empathy than she had come to expect from him.
"I'll be fine." Michael forced a smile they both knew was false. "It'll be weird. Once the war is over."
His head cocked to the side. "How so?"
"When I was turned…." Michael started, hesitating for a moment "When I was turned I was in prison. In war. My…entire vampiric life had been war…and death... and bodies. Now, the war will end. I don't know what I'll do without it…"
"You could stay on Discovery."
Michael scoffed, shaking her head. "You've already overheard my reasoning with Tilly, Lieutenant."
"Doesn't mean its final, Burnham."
Michael opened her mouth but stopped short as she heard the other's approach. Georgiou looked exceptionally pleased with herself; carrying a collection of Darsek coins in her hand.
"By now, I assume word's on its way so we'll need to get busy in searching for that shrine." She started. Philippa held out a few of the coins to them though her eyes were drawn to the tent in the centre; displaying seductively dancing Orions "Split up, look around, buy information if you have to."
"Where are you starting?" Michael questioned; sensing there was more to Georgiou's plan that didn't necessarily match theirs.
Georgiou's lips quivered up to a smirk. "The Orions aren't going to be giving up information so easily. I have my ways that won't include murder or torture."
Michael's eyes narrowed though she could see the implication the Terran was setting up. "You two, go." She didn't need to request again before Stamets and Tyler went, leaving her alone.
Georgiou's expression didn't change and still heavily amused. "What? A vampire can't have a sex life without their…sire's permission."
"It's not about permission. You are only a few days old into this life." Michael hissed, "You have no idea how fragile a flesh body really is, especially between your legs." She couldn't forget how easily Captain Conner's ribs had given under her hands over that push. What Georgiou wanted to so was more intentional in force…. "You'd kill them!"
Georgiou scoffed, shaking her head. "Don't underestimate me, Burnham."
"It's not about underestimation of your self-control, Philippa. Vampire sex is rough and it will end up in injury of the inferior body."
"All sex does. But either way, I want to have some fun before I'm stuck with you and we need information. I will do it my way and you do yours." Georgiou didn't wait before she strolled off, adjusting her leather as she went with a very fierce sense of dignity and annoyance.
Michael growled in annoyance.
It didn't take long to track down Tyler or Stamets. Stamets stayed settled in the centre, overseeing the bomb in the case though everyone around him kept away; standing to overhear though she could see Tyler was busy, playing a Klingon gambling game though she stayed away, mostly from the laughter the Klingons had; amused—if she had to guess it was about Tyler— but her presence would also be unwelcome to the mood.
Klingons would not talk to a vampire in a friendly manner…. Tyler would have to be good.
It did cross her mind to go back to Paul but…she didn't Instead, Michael stalked away from the centre and wandered.
Michael ended up passing through other sectors of the outpost though her interest was caught in a tattoo Parlour.
Inside, could smell a Klingon, two Orions and a Trill, though curiosity got the better of her. Keeping to a human pace, she strolled in, keeping her face angled away before she turned her focus to the drawings that littered the side. Tattoos weren't of Klingon Culture but… Michael found herself little drawn in to the patterns; clear Klingon detailing; it showed not only in their ship designs but also their drawings; cultural transference within a blending. Klingon art, Orion's hand in where it ended up.
Unusual… but she supposed in an outpost, cultures blended; The Klingons probably profited off this outpost to not be concerned over it.
Her fingers brushed over the surface; following the sudden ink trails that flowed out from the centre design; completing the image of a beetle with intricate wings. Her lips pulled up into a smile. A small thing but… she knew each culture had its depth. She didn't like Klingons but that feeling didn't erase the fact that there was clearly more to life on Quo'noS than she had thought or wanted to think; all she had seen were their battle ships and honour. Not their ordinary lives.
Her fingers brushed over a second, watching as the design shrunk down into another insect.
Michael's head turned, but another scent caught her attention. Drifting in from the window exposed to the outward side; it was sweet yet floral, hints of copper laced within it that lingered with blood but… the edge of the scent was familiar. One that made her feel queasy; if it was possible. Her fangs tingled though she could smell it was distant…. Enough to stay away from the outpost and shrouding it with its presence. It ticked at her instincts.
"Michael?"
Michael's focus returned, blinking to see Ash in front of her, his face crinkled into a look of concern.
"There's another vampire." She stated bluntly, "Not a federation one."
Ash's face cocked to the side but he suddenly understood her distraction on the matter. "I thought all the vampires were in the federation."
"Only the ones made from federation members… we don't know how many were on earth to start with." One that she knew personally. Even if it had been a year…
Ash's brown eyes took in her expression. "I take it I can't stop you from investigating?"
It made her huff out softly. "Keep searching for that shrine. I'll keep track of the time and where I go. Stamets can help than play guard-dog over the bomb."
If Ash had his objections and she was sure he did, he didn't voice it. The idea of another vampire that didn't come from Starfleet was a worry; she had the right to seek this out as a responsible Vampire, but they didn't know it was personal.
"Be safe."
"I will. Stay alive." Michael patted his arm, slipping him the rest of the coins she didn't need before she flickered away, following her nose; trying to pick up the scent in the air….
Michael traced it out of the outpost and down into a sub section of cave openings; ornamentally carved with clear signs it was used recently. The scent got stronger and more potent though she could hear the clear sounds of grunting echoing up off the walls… the stench of sex ever present; vampire and a Orion. In the throes of passion, Michael could understand that the vampire hadn't heard her; too occupied.
So she tread carefully.
The sounds were easy to identify echoes; and openings, the breeze blew towards her, rendering her cent down-wind— an advantage. A staircase showed the way down deeper so she took it, listening out for any sighs of being heard. The passage carried on until it spit down into two cases then opened up to a wide birth. Inside, Michael realised quickly that it had opened up into a sort of shrine.
It was dark with rough stone walls though there was ornamental support beams that stretched all around from the top to the floor on both sides. Small lights glowed as well as larva stone that glowed red. In the centre of this chamber was an ornamental well; heat emanating from it that lit the sense of a near larva flow.
But her focus was to the vampire. Looking at her, at least the back of her, it stirred back the memoires she had wanted to forget. The same strawberry bone shade of her hair, instead of long had been cropped short into a pixy cut, exposing the back of the creamy, pale flesh of her neck and shoulders. Mostly dressed, the vampire's dark leather pants hung around one of her legs than off completely, allowing the vampire to ride the Orion; pinning the weaker body down under her. Dark green splodges exposed bruised and cuts but the Orion male didn't seem to notice.
Then abruptly, the vampire climaxed, her body stiffening up a fraction before she plunged forwards, sinking her fangs directly into the Orion's throat; his own cry gurgling off— a low crunch echoed from his lower spine and pelvis before she draw back, satisfied both sexually and thirst, green blood dripping down.
The woman got off her broken play-thing, slipping her leg back into her pants and pulled it up. The sounds of the zip echoed though Michael felt a breeze rush passed her, filtering her scent into the shrine.
The vampire froze for a fractions of a second; the demeanour shifting and a low laugh echoed. "Come in. I hope you enjoyed the show." Even the way she spoke wanted to make her shiver. High pitched, methodical chime of it.
The female turned to the opening.
Michael stepped fully into its frame though she felt her fangs extend; hate, anger… fear… the emotions suddenly turmoil in her stomach that felt wrong to exist now. Her face, the vampire's face, hadn't changed. Her eyes were black, like before despite the feeding, her expression lifted though there was… an emotional disconnect to her eyes. Something about her was…different. Off even. Michael couldn't place it.
The vampire's head cocked to the side, black eyes flickering down, drinking in her new form slowly though with both a hint of curiosity, hint of sexual interest and aggression that grew on her lips; fangs extended, peeking out from under her lips but there was a steel edge of control all about her posture that felt…intimidating. Like she was an infant being scolded by a grandmother. Everything about her was wrong…
"Ah, my Childe," Her voice tinkered high in her hum, "you've blossomed."
Michael growled softly, stepping further in despite her better instincts; telling her to go; find her clan.
This seemed to amuse the woman. "I know you have questions. I know you're not alone. You made your own Childes. I've…kept tabs on you since the federation gain vampires into their ranks… I don't see them handling it well once this war is over."
Michael ignored the statement, stopping a few meters away; unwilling to allow herself further. "I don't even know who you are."
"Call me Ophelia Yetson," The vampire answered brightly though an edge of caution. "If you're here to kill me, you cannot."
"I'm up for a challenge. I don't have to kill you but you cannot have free rein here." Michael bit back, her hands clenching.
Ophelia laughed once. "You are a courageous one, aren't you?" The amusement lingered in her smile. "But you overestimate yourself… You are nothing but an infant to me. A childe lost..." She stepped forwards, her tongue washing over her lips, cleaning away the dregs of copper blood, "You're weak. As a human…even as a vampire you're frail." Her eyes turned, tinkling with a darker edge. "Now, tell me... what are your instincts telling you about me?"
A low growl resonated in her chest, Michael glared at her but she couldn't seem to make her body move…
"Rational mind trying convince your primal body, internal war… its familiar." Ophelia carried on, her voice light, stepping to walk now causally into a wide circle around her. Michael allowed her senses to go into overdrive; tracking each step; each breath and movement… but found herself allowing her to get a little bit more closer..
"I hate you."
"As I with you, but… that doesn't change anything, childe." Ophelia carried on, "hate is good. Passionate, even. Anger. Pain… it makes you a good killer." Her head turned, eyes like a hawk "You've killed, haven't you? Tell me, did you enjoy it?"
"No." Michael set her jaw at the question.
"Yes, you did. You enjoyed killing just as much as I do. Humans do not matter. None of them matter." Behind her, Michal felt her step closer; enough to know the vampire could reach out and touch her. "You mattered, for a while… It took so long to find you."
Her jaw clenched, her hands balling up; flashes of pain resonating through her mind; the feeling of her bones…breaking. The sickening snap… the bewildering pain that blinded her reality away before another pulled her back; back to the monster.
"I still broke you…." Ophelia's voice was soft… like a whisper. Her hand coming to her sides, as if she were a lover, pressing herself against her back as her hands slipped up… brushing over her breast, settling over the place where her heart had once beaten. "It's why you've submitted to me now."
Then Michael gasped softly as she felt the elder's teeth sink into her neck…