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Jalana

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Posts posted by Jalana

  1. (( Resplendent Ascendance ))

    When he materialized in the transporter room of the Dryarian vessel, he was met by the humanoid with larger eyes, violet hued skin and for the lack of a better word, a sleek appearance. Nugra had recognized him immediately as a Dryarian male though it had been too long for him to recognize the rank on the sleeves of his tunic.

    Tinik: Ambassador Nugra.

    Nugra: It's Senior Commander. I no longer hold an Ambassador position with the Federation.

    Tinik: I see. Senior Commander. Who do you represent now?

    Nugra: The Gorn Confederation, my people. I am not a citizen of the Federation. I'm here as an exchange capacity.

    Tinik: ::nods:: The Arda awaits you. I am ship master Tinik. I shall lead you to her.

    Through the gentle sloping corridors and soft floors, what the Dryarians lacked in ships and size, they made up with quality. If someone thought a Federation vessel was high standard living had never been on a Dryarian vessel. The Gorn was finally led to a room which the door swished open with a puff of air. Stepping in, he glanced around the oval room with a bay window facing out into space. Gauzy curtains were pulled back and the trickle of a water fountain could be heard somewhere in the room.

    Turning from her marble like table, the young woman broke into a soft smile and stood, the folds of her robes falling and straightening as she glided over to him.

    Iria: Thank you for coming so quickly.  I was not sure after our quick meeting if you'd be able to come. I apologize for turning down the quarters offered aboard ship but my security is very loath of letting me out of their site when we have no formal standing with the Federation.

    Nugra: Quite alright Arda Iristi.

    Iria reached down and took his clawed hand in her two and smiled gently at him.

    Iria: ::softly:: You can call me Iria.

    Emotion clawed at Nugra's throat. The years they had been separated showed him how much of a monster he had been to her. Turning his war orphan at the Battle of the Singularity in to a weapon of war.

    (( FLASHBACK - 2384 - Peska Alora ))
    OOC: Original Fic I wrote in 2014

    The giggles and laughter woke Nugra up from his idle nightmare and he quickly located Iria. She was running around with a couple village children wielding sticks. He relaxed and watched them play happily. The taking of the Dragon’s Claw had been hell, the teams had been originally pinned down, but it only succeeded because of the young girl running about and playing. Iria had developed a method of hamstringing attacking Gorn troops by racing and bobbing around them while strike at their heels with her knives. She had gotten to good. The sound of her laughter as she cut them made him shiver. Though she was seventeen in age, her mental age was much younger. All she had known was war and blood.

    oO What have I done? Oo

    Coming back had put in to light how much of a monster he had become. How could he have done so much to such an innocent girl whose world was caught in the crossfire? Iria had become an excellent killing machine. A little murderess that delighted in destroying the enemy.

    The doors of the monastery creaked open and immediately the kids took off running. Iria instead turned, brandishing her stick ready for a fight.

    Nugra: ::softly:: Iria, come.

    Immediately, the girl was by his side ready to strike. Four women wearing elaborate dresses of scarlet with violet trimming, their faces were obscured from the veils across their faces. They approached with a graceful, but a walk full of purpose. The exquisite decoration spoke of their years of tradition and dedication to their creed. The people of Peska Alora were used to them, but to strangers unfamiliar with the outer rim of the galaxy, they would have found them strange and obsolete.

    Iria: Father. They are trained. How do we proceed?

    Nugra: We don’t. Stand down, daughter.

    His words caught her by surprise and she broke her gaze to look at him for some sign of his meaning. She obeyed though without hesitation.

    Nun: The celestial mother sends you her greetings, Nugra son of Moong.

    Nugra bowed his head to the leader and placed his left hand on his heart.

    Nugra: and I accept them with open heart, sister.

    The Gorn could not see the expression from under her veil, but even if he could see her face, their thoughts and decisions were enigmatic.

    Nun: The celestial mother has reviewed your request and has accepted. She has also accepted your offer in trade. We shall take her now.

    Out of the corner of his eyes, Nugra watched Iria’s expression and to her credit, she understood what they meant. Her curiosity changed to hatred and she dashed forward with a battle shriek. From under her tunic, she drew a Gorn Slish'Kot and it flashed out towards the throat of the lead sister in a blur of silver. It was met by a small, decorative blade and easily deflected. Two of the other sisters stepped forward and intercepted Iria’s erratic and ferocious blade. Together they cornered her, batted her weapon from her hand and subdued her. Iria found herself caught in an interlocking hold that pinned her arms behind her back and placed pressure on her spin.

    Iria: ::Shrieking:: Father! Help me!

    A darkness descended on Nugra’s heart as he did something he knew would damned him for the rest of his life. He turned and began to walk away.

    Nugra: Father? FATHER!

    The Gorn heard the agonizes screams of his daughter as the Sisters of Conscience and Fidelity began to drag her to the monastery doors.

    Iria: ::sobbing:: DADDY! Daddy! Please save me!

    Tears welled up in Nugra’s eyes as his continued to walk down the path away from the estate. The doors thundered shut and silence descended on his walk. He had just betrayed the one he loved to those who could help her become a proper member of society. His love for her had burned any chance of being loved back ever again. The betrayal was complete. He had become a monster.

    (( END FLASHBACK ))

    Here Iria stood though. A grown woman, much more mature than she had been when he last saw her. When Nugra stepped down from command of the USS Victory years ago, he had lost track of her. He heard rumors she was on Starbase 118 and then vanished. He found her in the Gamma Quadrant with the Dryary.

    Iria: Will you be okay?

    Nugra: There is...a lot of emotion right now that I'm trying to process.

    Iria: That is okay. There is a lot.

    Nugra: Why are you here, Iria? You said you were going to stay with the Dryary.

    Iria: There are some things I need to do and tell you before that.

    There was a hint of sadness in her voice that he was not quite sure what it was. He tilted his head in a way she was familiar with and the smile came back.

    Iria: But not now. Will you provide me a tour of the Starbase and your new posting?

    Nugra: ::smiling:: Sure. Come with me.

    ~*~
    PNPC Senior Commander Nugra
    Intelligence Officer
    USS Constitution-B

  2. (( nature preserve program, Holodeck 4 ))

     
    What was always most shocking to Lazarus was how quiet it could be. Every movement, every step, every brush of fabric-on-fabric was audible.
     
    CRUNCH
    The sound of his foot landing on a dry leaf was almost deafening in the moment. Somewhere nearby and overhead, a bird called. And a reply cascaded through the trees. Calling and receiving. Communication.
     
    Behind him, he heard the sound of the hologram dissipating, followed by the industrial noise of the holodeck door opening and closing. Someone must have come in.
     
    That was fine. He wanted to be alone, but he also didn't want to exclude anyone. He didn't realistically need the whole holodeck to himself, so he set it to a public session.
     
    He absent-mindedly hummed a line of a song to himself, just a fragment that bubbled up suddenly to the surface of his mind. "I lost my memory today, the day my ship set sail" would have been the lyrics. He kept moving on his hike.
     
    He had moved past feeling pain about destroying the Theseus. It was regrettable, but the Theseus and Elder created the scenario, not him. He, like anyone else on the Conny, had to deal with the situation they were thrust into. The repercussions of Jalana's rescue mission were clearly profound, but not going was the correct choice. 
     
    When they left, he was still angry at Elder, the Theseus, and himself; all of it. No one benefits from someone so distracted on such a delicate mission. Had he gone, it could have gone much, much worse. And Heeka ended up going in his place, more or less. He heard the stories of her and T'Aven in the mines. She was a better choice.
     
    //
     
    Imas stepped through the threshold and into the projection of the nature preserve. The door closed behind her, and its hydraulics exhaled in sync with her own exhale. As the hologram obscured the door, she felt her shoulder tension lessen. She became aware of the posture of her spine.
     
    The last mission was an unmitigated success. Or so she had thought until right about the emergency beam out. The state of Jalana, Lystra, Spears, Flores, everyone. Something happened to Saveron and T'Aven, too. 
     
    She was a bit shaken around. A few good bruises, scrapes, and cuts. Within an hour she was totally healed, showered, and in bed. Lystra lost a hand. That cannot be undone, even with a cloned replacement. Looks, feels, acts like the original hand... but it isn't. 
    She knew the term for it: survivor's guilt. This had a bit of a different flavor, though. not so much "why me?" as it was "why them?" This was a new feeling for Imas.
     
    The simple dirt path lay in front of her, uneven from all the roots crossing it, and flanked on both sides by trees. The canopy overhead was readily pierced by the mid-morning sun. In the distance, a bird call. It sounded like a robin.
     
    On Cardassia, when a comrade falls in battle, there is a sadness but there is also a sense of glory to it. A Cardassian would offer genuine sympathy to a friend in Lystra's situation, and help them adjust to the new reality. "Such a sad thing for this to happen to such a good person." But it would all have the flavor of acceptance, or even pride. There was no greater honor than to die in service of Cardassia. To be injured in service was something to be proud of.
     
    But right now, this hurts. When Imas caught a glimpse of Lystra when she stopped by sickbay, Imas imagined what she would feel if it were her. She explored it deeper, instead of intellectualizing it by saying "a military officer losing a limb is almost expected." 
     
    She felt fear, sadness, dread. She felt violated. And then began to observe the abyss of what she couldn't even fathom. What was this reaction? She'd seen worse even in basic training.
     
    Leaves crunched ahead. Whoever started the program wasn't terribly far away. Imas strode forward, realizing she wished to be near others right now, while feeling so vulnerable.
     
    //
     
    Whomever else joined was on the move. The sounds echoed around the trees, making it hard to tell what direction they were moving. No matter.

    If not going was the right choice, and he wasn't upset about the Theseus; what was it? His first command was a successful, albeit brief, mission. Things with Queen were feeling... less awkward.

    He still didn't really know a lot about her. He hadn't really asked a lot of deep questions, not sure of how she felt about it. Their differences in communication made reading emotions and body language challenging, but they were coming along. He wished he could just tell her how he felt, but he didn't want to scare her off or upset her.
     
    The footsteps approached, so he turned to see who it was. 
     
    //
     
    Lystra's hand. Spears. Jalana. T'Aven. Lystra's hand. The hand. So much pain. This is why you weren't supposed to fraternize in the military. These weren't fellow soldiers, these were comrades. Family, even. And she let her family get hurt, forever changed. No, she did her part--and so did the others. They were overwhelmed.
     
    As she approached, the person turned to face her. It was Davis--! Her sorrow and fear catalyzed into anger.
     
    Heeka: You..!
     
    He was clearly surprised by her reaction.
     
    Davis: Er, hello?
     
    Heeka: Where were you on that mission?
     
    To say she sounded interrogative would be an understatement.
     
    Davis: I was oversee--::he realized she wasn't asking where he was, but a reason for his absence:: I was a liability.
     
    Heeka: You know Spears barely made it? And Jalana? But you had *feelings*?
     
    Lazarus looked down and exhaled through his nose, then slowly inhaled before continuing. 
     
    Davis: ::quietly:: I'm well aware, yes. I asserted to Saveron that I was emotionally compromised, and he agreed. The list might have been longer had I gone, or the list of people that came back shorter. 
     
    She scoffed and turned away. A convenient argument. Had he been there, with his science expertise, it would have made a difference for the better.
     
    Heeka: If you saw--
     
    Davis: Imas, remember Marcinko? Security officer, in the mines.
     
    Heeka: ... yes?
     
    Not specifically, but she recalled he was a security officer lost on the mission.
     
    Davis: He was vaporized by a disruptor set on maximum. I gave the order that got him killed.
     
    Heeka: Are you saying I should pity you? That you are inept?

    Davis: The order I gave him was to defend our position so we could complete the mission.
     
    Heeka: What are you getting at?
     
    Davis: That sometimes even good decisions have negative consequences.
     
    Heeka: ::flabbergasted:: I know that! I--::calming down:: Your presence would change the odds. Shedet isn't even an off--
     
    Davis: I'm going to stop you right there, Lieutenant. I don't think you want to finish that. I'm Chief Science Officer because I fit the role, not because I'm the "best" scientist on the ship. Don't confuse rank with capability.
     
    Heeka: I did not come here to be lectured.
     
    Davis: Funny, I could say the same thing.
     
    A squirrel and a woodpecker had a brief disagreement overhead. The chattering and flapping punctuated the pause in their conversation.
     
    Heeka: I... apologize. I just-- I've seen death before, and extreme injury. But it's never hit me like this. Is this what it always feels like to you?
     
    He looked at the woman, studying her face and contemplating.
     
    Davis: I don't know you well enough to answer that.
     
    Heeka: :: She frowned and looked away:: No, you don't.
     
    Davis: If you're asking if it ever gets easier seeing people you care about get hurt, then the answer is no.
     
    Heeka: How do you carry on, then?
     
    Davis: You get better at coping with it. More efficient. I had to learn how to construct productive narratives.
     
    Heeka: ... what?
     
    Davis: The story of the events, the interpretations of them and the perspectives taken on them. I can't change the events, but I can change all the other things.
     
    Heeka: I cannot envision an "interpretation" of this mission that makes it hurt less.
     
    Davis: You won't find one.
     
    Heeka: Then what is the point of this exercise?
     
    Davis: Look at my shoes. I accidentally stepped into a brook earlier. I'm covered in mud and my feet are wet. If I tell the story about my time here that focuses on muddy, wet feet; it might give someone the impression that I hated this hike.

    Heeka: Ah. "Because of a great love, one is courageous."
     
    Davis: I'm not sure I know that one.
     
    Heeka: Shame. It's from an Earth philosopher, Laozi. It means love and courage go together, like how a cup has an outside and an emptiness in the middle.
     
    That didn't make a whole lot of sense to Lazarus, but he was relieved that Imas was relieved. There was a silence between them for a moment. 
     
    Heeka: I am grateful you did not join us in the rescue operation.
     
    The words were genuine, not sarcastic.
     
    Davis: Thank you. I'm going to continue my hike, in my muddy shoes.
     
    They nodded to each other, not exactly smiling, but there was a warmth. Lazarus strode forward on the path he was on, and Imas took the fork in the path.
     

     

    ——
    Lieutenant Lazarus Davis
    Chief Science Officer

    &

    Lieutenant JG Imas Heeka
  3. I know I am late but we have a EHS (Emergency Hair Stylist) on the Constitution that runs around with a mobile emitter so he can leave the ship and all. I'm sure our Engineer (even though he was grandfathered in instead of working on it before) would love to exchange how it works :) Assistant Chief Jacob Horne

    • Like 2
  4. Quote

    Wow… he had a … really flat butt.  And long gangly legs.  And his hair didn’t lay flat in back at all.  Yikes.

    Then again his new body would have most of the same problems.  Or maybe Georgio had seen fit to give him a really nice butt only for vicarious enjoyment.  But he was pretty sure his hair would never lay flat in back.

     

    Priorities! No worries Georgio made sure he got a nice butt and no flat hair :D

    • Haha 3
  5. Quote

    Lissene (D'Sena): =/\= Anything we need to worry falling apart on our way?  =/\=

     

    O’Connor (Flores): oO If the forced quantum singularity falls apart there’s not much time for worrying, or much of anything else. Oo

    Good that they are not on the bridge, the Drive section is far enough for Akeelah to not catch that LOL

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  6. Quote

    D'Sena: Devon and Dauntin. Sounds like one of these Terran bands my roommate listened to. I hope you are better at your craft than they were with music. 

    Foster: Don’t you know it.  Expect our next single in 2399.

    Heeka raised an eyebrow. A single what, and should she prepare?

     

    New band up and coming! :D

    • Haha 3
  7. Quote

    As quickly as the panic swelled, it was slowly replaced by anger. How dare they! She'd only just arrived and they had the absolute nerve to kidnap her Commodore? A strong, exaggerated sense of loyalty swelled up for the Commodore who realistically, she had never met, but now, she would fight to her last to retrieve.

     

     

    Yeah! How dare!

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