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Toryn Raga

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About Toryn Raga

  • Rank
    Admiral Blabbermouth
  • Birthday 09/10/1980

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    USS Atlantis
  • Current Post
    Acting Marine CO

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    Orlando, Florida
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    Male
  • Interests
    Sci-fi/Fantasy genre; LOTR; Game of Thrones; Star Trek (obviously ;) ); Star Wars; Blade Runner; Firefly; Battlestar Galacticas; Babylon 5; The Wheel of Time; Metal; Rock; Classical; Pop; Mountains and Cold climates; Hiking; Camping; Movies; Board Games; I'm an avid D&D player and Dungeon Master and the list goes on and on and on.

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  1. Toryn Raga

    PNPC Mullan-Abha - An Ode

    ((Transporter Room 4 - USS Constitution)) ::If one wandered into the rarely-used Transporter Room 4 during the Beta shift, they would spy a lean, lanky and tall Grazerite behind the control console. Day in and day out, he stood there, sometimes running minor diagnostics, sometimes rearranging the layout of the LCARS panels, but mostly he ruminated. And the odd time, one would see him at his journal.:: ::An archaic keepsake, that journal. Hide-bound, tied with silk ties, it was emblazoned in gold leaf on its cover in florid Grazerite cursive - "THE STYLISTIC WRITINGS OF THE ESTEEMED MULLAN-ABHA". See, for when Mullan-Abha wasn't running minor diagnostics or rearranging the layout of the LCARS panels, which honestly didn't take hardly any time at all, then there was nothing else to do. It wasn't like he had responsibility for the prestigious Transporter Room 1 or anything, or even Transporter Room 2, which though not as prestigious, still had its charms.:: ::Mullan-Abha didn't mind, though. Blessed with the calm demeanor and easy temperament of his ancestors, he was content just knowing that he could be depended on if Transporter Room 1 failed. And Transporter Room 2. And Transporter Room 3. All at the same time. It was important work, being quaternary in line as a backup. His parents were proud.:: ::Long story short, Mullan-Abha had a lot of free time on his hands. And he fancied himself a bit of a pithy and sharp-witted writer. Just because he was a docile sort didn't mean his wit wasn't as sharp as a razor - after hours of contemplation, of course. So, when the minor diagnostics had been run, and the LCARS panels had been rearranged, and there was little chance of unexpected transporter users (which, let's be honest, was par for the course in Transporter Room 4), Mullan-Abha would crack out his journal, take out his archaic inked stylus from it's worn groove at the spine of the book, and write a pithy short story or poem. Today, he was hard at work at his latest masterpiece.:: ==== T'WAS THE WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS - CONSTITUTION EDITION Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the ship Every creature was stirring, because of a blip An Away mission had been planned out with care But before too long the Away teams weren't there The shuttles were jostled but landed in place Despite a rough landing all had gone apace With dust in the air and a cave very near The teams had gone forth without nary a fear When up on the bridge there arose such a clatter The crew were all gone! No-one knew by what manner The sensors were blinded, the probe was no aid Those left behind felt clueless and dismayed An odd old transmission was all that was heard Static and shadows and all else perturbed When what to the crew's efforts finally appear? Exotic machinery spanning the years Temporal displacement was its main aim Sent to the past, this tech must be to blame More rapid than transporters, shuttles, subspace The teams had been whisked to a new time and place! Now Rajel! now, Lystra! now, Yito and Atan! Gone, Mason! Gone, Saveron! And gone Sh'Thelzan! To the past they have gone! To the far land of Earth! The cause is quite dire, please suspend your mirth! The bridge crew did scramble and fight with the scans The static too random, it messed with their plans Commander Blair sat in the big chair ill-eased Too stoic to show just how much it displeased And then, just like magic, they heard very faint Away team transmissions, an image did paint Of their crew safe and sound, if a little bit lost They had to retrieve them, no matter the cost! So what would they do, could they beam them away? The distortions meant that this wasn't the way A feverish effort to hash out a plan Taxed the brain of every woman and man They had to resort to another shuttle But how to avoid a similar muddle? Metaphasics and displacement shield Untested theories with hope of a yield So now with another Away team at risk Activities aboard the ship are quite brisk Except for a locale where all is a bore Here I am stuck in Transporter Room Four I'll watch from afar and hope for the best The action will go to the best and the rest I'll quietly exclaim as they fly out of sight "Good luck to you all, and have a safe flight!" ==== ::Mullan-Abha lowed quietly in humor as he put away his stylus and closed and tied up his journal, slightly embarrassed to be making light of the current situation... but one could never deny their afflatus, no matter how inappropriate. Yes, a pithy writer he was indeed, though he would never dare show his work to others. His journal was for his eyes only, and he would continue to document the lives of the crew around him, so long as he didn't have a minor diagnostic to run or an LCARS panel to rearrange, of course.:: CPO Mullan-Abha Transporter Chief ~as simmed by~ Commander Tanin Kelbi Operations, USS Constitution A239111MT0
  2. ((Poseidon's Lounge, Deck 2, USS Atlantis)) ((OOC: Day 1 of leave evening hours.)) Raga: Careful, Valin. That's the spiciest dish my people make. Unless you want your own exhaust manifold cleaned for the rest of eternity, you might want to avoid it. ::The Al-leyan grabbed a plate for himself and joined Dermont at the buffet. The engineer gave a big grin at his best friend on board the Atlantis and ladled even more into the bowl. There was no doubt Raga was right, but there was just something about being told he shouldn't that just made his want it all the more.:: Dermont: Bah, Toryn. Have faith in yer good buddy... Raga: Oh I do. I have faith that that will send you to sickbay. ::He chuckled:: ::Dermont's plate was now stacked high and he thermos was tucked under one arm. He carefully balanced his food and with one free hand pointed a finger at the other man.:: Dermont: Don't ya think I've fergotten yer little mutiny either, lad. Raga: Mutiny? What in the winds are you talking about, Valin? Dermont: You in cahoots with sickbay gettin' me in fer mah physical. I know ya were in on it. Just been thinkin' on an appropriate response. Can't let ya go unscathed now can I? ::Watching the Al-Leyan go stone-faced on him was all the admission of guilt Dermont needed. He glanced at the owl-bird-thing perched on his friend's shoulder. Even her expression seemed suddenly stiff. It was like the two of them practiced in the mirror together. Dermont slowly guided the conversation towards an empty table.:: Raga: I have no idea what you're talking about. I would never need to use such underhanded tactics to get the Chief Engineer to report for his physical knowing he a responsible, Starfleet officer who would never shirk his mandated duties by creating problems with the ship he feels compelled to fix on his own when he has an entire department of engineers to delegate the work to. Because he trusts them to know how to fix their own ship to his highest of standards. ::Dermont narrowed his eyebrows and gave the Security Chief a hard stare. The man wasn't giving anything away, but the engineer would swear the other was attempting to be funny. The terran leaned in closer, seeing if Toryn's mask would slip. Without taking his eyes off of him, Dermont began to stuff his face with a biscuit, smacking loudly. Nope, nothing. Spitting crumbs in the security officer's direction, Dermont relented a bit.:: Dermont: Well, o'course not. Yer Mister Shinin' Example. That'd be a terrible thang ta do ta yer good friend Dermont. Causin' him ta need all sortsa nonsensical tests and pokes and prods. Ye'd never do anything ta bring 'bout such hazards to poor lil ole me. Bah...what was I thinkin'? Yer too good a soul fer such antics! Knight, maybe...never Mr. Raga.... ::The other man just took another sip of his damn tea and said nothing. He wondered how long they'd play this game, but before they could find out a voice cut through the air. It was a beautiful voice that brought a sad smile to this face. He couldn't help but stop his eating and just listen. He had no clue what she was saying, but somehow the words cut straight to his soul. He just sat there when it was over as all around him applause broke out. Toryn's elbow brought him back to the here and now.:: Raga: That was beautiful. Dermont: Aye it was. ::He banged his thermos on the table as way of adding to the applause.:: ::A clanging of a utensil on glass cut through the clapping, and the first officer addressed the crowd.:: Williams: ::Raising his voice slightly:: My dear shipmates. I am pleased to see you all here. As you can see and hear we have a ship of many talented people. Although we only know each other for a year, and some only for a few days, we still have much to explore. This quadrant has its mysteries but so do the wonderful people we work with. The singing skills of Ensign Maeli here are but an example. I hope we can do this more often. A talent show like the old days on Earth might be a bit overkill but if you want to interest your fellow crewmates into a hobby we could have a monthly entertainment evening or something. Right captain? Brell: ::Responding loud enough for the room to hear.:: Agreed! We must remember to pursue our off duty passions, and share them with fellow shipmates. Williams: That settles it then. I want you all to enjoy your evening tonight. Relax, feast and enjoy! That’s an order! Brell: Just don’t go anywhere, In about an hour I have a few surprises to share. ::As if in challenge, another song picked up and carried over the party. He instantly recognized the tune as a Klingon one. In face, he himself had sung it on more than one occasion on board the Endurance. His Klingon crewman had taught all of them many a song while drinking their evenings away on whatever local pub their freighter parked in orbit over. Dermont had to grin as he listened to the Klingons and their Worene companion carry on with what must have been a slightly intoxicated enthusiasm.:: ::A glance over at his friend revealed that Klingon drinking songs did not elicit the same warm memories. He knew that Toryn had a troubled past with the Klingons, and did not hold the feelings against him. They had cost his brother his life, much as the Romulans had taken Dermont's old crew from him. However, his was the superior officer of one of the two officers and outranked both of them. If Dermont could hold it in and not shoot Danara or Serala on sight, Toryn could reign it in. Of course, he had noticed the Al-leyan's temper had become much shorter as of late. But that was a whole other mess...:: oO Which is perhaps a good reason ta shoot Serala...heritage aside... Oo Dermont: Perhaps ye'd best leave the scowlin' of junior officers ta me, eh? Raga: Huh? Bad enough having one of them on board. Now there's two. ::He said with far more spite in his tone than he would have expected to hear.:: Dermont: Rein it in....Lieutenant. One of those lads calls you a superior officer.... ::Another song from the Rodulan and their first officer. Despite himself, Dermont found himself enjoying the evening. Of course everything hurt and he was so tired he couldn't help but stifle another yawn...but still. Enjoyable. His eyes couldn't help was wander on the group and he spied Serala enjoying the singing as well. Which made it his turn to scowl. He still wasn't convinced that she wasn't under some sort of mind compulsion. The scans he had covertly taken of her and her husband had revealed a large presence of mental stimulation, as well as increased levels of dopamine during said stimulation. Perhaps she was being brainwashed...:: oO She had better hope she is...fer her sake... Oo ::Dermont couldn't help but look over at Toryn. The poor lad had been finally struggling past his own brainwashing due to his bloody heritage to try and tell Serala how he felt and then she went an got married! Without warning. It had crushed his soul. And while Dermont had just overcome to own prejudices to start calling Serala a friend, he couldn't see past such as transgression against Toryn. There was just no way the damn woman didn't know how Raga had felt. Their junior officers had known it, everybody had known it. The watched the bird peck at Toryn.:: Dermont: Is yer bird thinkin' what I'm thinkin'? Now yer hidin' from her? From her?! She should be on bended knee tryin' ta make amends! ::Dermont had been in a biobed at the end of the mission, on a Romulan Warbird. Then he had been stuck in Jefferies' Tubs since he had gotten back...he had not yet heard any gossip about the two of them.:: Raga: Valin, please it's fine. I need to stay away from her for a while. The cloud messed us both up and she's dealing with what happened. Besides. ::He turned to face the grizzled engineer:: I think things between Lael and I are going well. So, I have someone to focus on as well. oO Happened? Somethin' happened... Oo ::But the mention of Lael brought an even deeper scowl to the engineer's face. Lieutenant Commander Lael Rosek, Chief Engineer of the USS Veritas. Half Al-Leyan, and a pain in Dermont's [...] by proxy. She was a woman in a relationship...who had spun into Raga's life and turned it upside down. He had taken great pains to know as much about this woman as he could. And he didn't like her not one bit.:: Dermont: Bah, damn pain in mah [...]... Raga: Why do you not like Lael so much? oO Fair question... Oo Dermont: Hmmm...ya know, it was originally because I was rootin' on ya endin' up with someone from the home team. ::He put up a hand before the emotions rolled out of Toryn.:: I had me heart set on you and that damn Romulan. As far as I'm concerned, that's still the safe bet, despite current events. And this damn Lael just swoops in and put yer heart all a'tangled. And unless yer plannin' on playin' third wheel, doesn't she have a man already? ::The engineer knew that many cultures didn't not practice monogamy, and Al-Leyans sometimes needed to have intercourse with literally the first Al-Leyan of the opposite sex they could find. So perhaps that wasn't as important to them. But dammit, Dermont was a human and Lael was half-human and he doubted his current partner wasn't going to be keen on Toryn climbing under the sheets.:: Raga: response Dermont: Yer so wrapped up in all of this...can ye just take a step back...from all of it. Just fer a bit. Ye've got so much drama fer a man without any ex-wives... Raga: response ::Dermont was a very overprotective friend. He knew he had his nose firmly where it didn't belong, but he had no plans on removing it any time soon. The more angry or embarrassed or depressed Raga become the more the old Terran was going to latch on. He'd drag the damn Al-Leyan boy to the other side of this mess one way or the other.:: ================= Lieutenant Valin Dermont Chief Engineer USS Atlantis A239410VD0
  3. ((OOC: This is set on day six of shore leave.)) ((South Beach, Neva Island, Aheitga Archipelago, Lydor IX )) ::Brell had again seen that the islands would be open to the crew for some enjoyment during their time here in orbit of Lydor IX. The last few days he had been to several meetings with the Freeworld’s investigators to give his testimony and answer follow up questions they had. He very much needed some respite after dealing with legal matters. So when the topic of his previous trip to the beach came up during his weekly meeting with his chief engineer a plan was quickly set into motion. The one thing he had not done last time he brought the family to the islands was beachfront barbecuing. Something Dermont was keen to join in on.:: ::Once again Brell beamed down most everything they could need. Picnic tables, stasis coolers for drinks and the replicated food they would be cooking, along with anything else they could think of. The grill they were to use had to be replicated in parts and assembled on the surface by the current, and former engineers.:: ::Dermont’s frustrations and lack of direction the last couple of weeks had been weighing rather heavily on him. Raga’s deep issues and the Consortium still at large was something that older engineer was taking personally, despite rational thought to the contrary. So when the captain had suggested a day at the beach with an actual real grill they would cook food on, he jumped at the chance. It was work and it was food. Two things he loved.:: Dermont: oO Those durned pieces were heavier than anticipated… Oo ::Finally assembly of the grill was done and he took a chance to step back next to Brell and just appreciate the work they had accomplished. A two level grill with four separate side burners for pots and the like. A small section for broiling and one side would even be set to be used as a smoker. Counter tops had been set up at ninety degree angles to the massive grill, so the two chefs would be boxed in on three sides. They had almost created a kitchen in the sand. A grin came upon Dermont’s face.:: Dermont: Well, Captain...I guess it’s time fer the real fun part! Brell: Indeed, I have not had a proper cookout in a very long time. ::The human heaved a large cooler upon one counter and began uploading a few items. They were unsure of who was going to be attending this particular beach-side even, so more was better. Two giant racks of pork ribs were unloaded onto a chopping block, along with four huge blocks of ground hamburger meat. It had taken him some tweaking of the replicator to get it to product a color and fat consistency to his like, but when it did, he made sure he had lots of it.:: ::Next were blocks of bleu and cheddar cheeses, along with an assortment of veggies. Then came spices and a bag of apples. He was feeling good. He hadn’t cooked fresh since he had lived on Bolarus IX and today had kept him so busy he hadn’t had time to dwell on much of anything. He needed to get the apples on and the meats marinating and then he’d have his first real bit of free time today.:: Dermont: oO Of course...today is the day Brie is due ta arrive… Oo ::Brell too had brought a large stasis cooler filled with meat. Some he had let age for days since replicating to prepare for this event. He had a dozen ground Flk’ji patties, a dozen Nal’xi drumsticks, around forty shimmershells he planned on using a special family recipe for, and those well aged Relik steaks also numbered at a dozen. To add a vegetarian choice he had wrapped up seatubers in foil, along with some Xaize he would grilling in their husks, and had made a fresh kelp salad that would be set out when things were done. As Bolarus was poor in spices he had much fewer to add as put his various items on the grill as his human friend did. He often wondered if other planets would have used aging meat to add flavor like his people did if their worlds had less spices. Some worlds seemed packed with things to enhance flavor growing all about. :: Brell: oO If only a couple crew members show up we will have leftovers for the next week. Oo ::Grinning at his own thought.:: Oh well. Oo Dermont: I feel we’ve...ehh...been rather ambitious in our goals ‘ere... Brell: ::Standing back to take it all in.:: It is indeed quite a spread we have put on here. Dermont: Yessir. I certainly hope there’s a bit o’ assistance eatin’ all o’ this. ::Brell got to work once more, setting each cook zone to the precise heat they needed to be at for each of the items he was cooking, and ignited his side. Utilizing the flat top grill area for the shimmershells he began to add the spiced carro root glaze to each of the still glowing shelled mussels making sure he was getting enough on every last one.:: Brell: Now this is relaxing. Is grilling something you did often when living on a planet? ::That question brought back pleasant memories on Bolarus IX of his family and Mazius’ cooking along a beach a lot like this one. Of course those memories were immediately followed by far sadder ones. His smile turned sad for a moment, but he surprised himself. Normally following that thought train would lead him dark a darker and more volatile path. But now, while those memories were sad, it didn’t take away from the good times as much as it used to.:: Dermont: oO I’m sure the doc would say I’m learnin’ ta process my grief constructively...bugger ‘im...Oo Dermont: Aye, sir. We didn’t spend a lot o’ time on the ground, as those runs out ta the far colonies past DS6 ran long...but those couple o’ weeks between hauls, aye. Mazius’ father used ta make me cook terran hamburgers. O’ course, he made me age it a bit first... Brell: I grew up in an undersea farmstead, so we only ever did this kind of cooking when we went to one of the mainland beaches for an outing. Dermont: We ‘ad an apartment a few kilometers outside o’ the main metro area o’ Bolsetu. Just a skip down from the waterfront. Ya know, they’d been passin’ legislation ta keep several beaches there free from the development, so we ‘ad sand and sun right outside. Brell: If the water was a bit more teal, and the plants around us a bit more colorful this could be mistaken for one of those Bolarus beaches. Don’t you think? ::With an ale in hand, Dermont leaned against a counter for a moment and just stared out at the water. He could imagine Brie barely up to his knee splashing along the shore and Kurdan seeing how far he could swim out with Maz’s youngest cousins. For even a briefest moment he could even remember how it felt to have Kyleanna’s arms wrapped around him, trying to distract him and then sneak past him to steal a bit of food from the plate next to the grill. He blinked back moisture as he cleared his throat.:: Dermont: Indeed, sir. I was thinkin’ the same thing. ::A sigh.:: Those days on Bolarus were good times...the best o’ times. Brell: I do miss it, no world has quite matched the coastal beauty. Dermont: Exactly. Even Risa’ beaches, engineered though they be, cannae compare ta the shores of yer home, sir. oO Our home. Oo ::Leaving earth before he turned twenty, he had either called the deck of a freighter or the shores of Bolarus IX home. He had always felt more at home around the hardworking Bolians than he did around most humans. Granted, they tended to have a slightly more positive outlook than Dermont did, but that development was really more recent than he made it seem.:: ::Brell had left home for starfleet at nineteen and then returned after his first tour of duty. In those years he appreciated his homeworld in ways he never did in his youth. After living on, and visiting many other planets the uniqueness of his Bolarus were all the more apparent and something to be cherished. It was why he went so far to have things from home with him now.:: Brell: I try to keep as many reminders of it as I can around, plants in my quarters, the seaweed tanks, the little luminescent fish in them and such. ::Dermont turned back to finish up with the seasoning of his ribs so he could wrap them and put them on to slow cook. He checked his sliced apples mixed but the butter and sugar in the pot...nice. He turned to Brell as he wiped his hands on a towel:: Dermont: Captain, didn’t you say yer relatives run that lil’ place on DS6? Brell: Yes! The Blue sea Bolian Deli. My uncle Garll operated it for a long time, and now his son is keeping it going. ::Dermont gave a grin as more memories flooded him.:: Dermont: When Brie was a small, small thing, we’d stop there fer a bite. She’d have trouble with the replicated mess on the ship, but a fresh kelp salad would put her mood right, ever’ time. Brell: I have a large bowl of the fresh kind in the other stasis cooler to serve with everything. Dermont: Brie would love some. I’ll have ta make sure she knows. Brell: So, if you went to Garll’s that means you have heard stories you didn’t know were about me. ::Laughing.:: Dermont: ::A sly grin appeared through his beard.:: Well, now that ya mention it...there was an odd tale er two of a certain nephew twas smarter in the mouth than he was in the head. But that doesn’t sound like mah Captain at all... ::The husky Bolian looked over to the human though he was in the middle turning over everything he was cooking in a precise order. He gave him a look that was a coy attempt to look offended. It was only :: Brell: I will confirm or deny nothing! oO Though that most certainly was me. Oo Dermont: Bah, yeah...Bolian families are big. Probably plenty o’ nephews. ::He just trailed off with the grin fading as he took a swig of ale and looked away. Those tales spun darker sometimes...with that same nephew getting into trouble he almost couldn’t dig himself out of. Garll tales would start off comical, but one who was looking could always see the smile turn sad towards the end.:: Dermont: oO That boy couldn’t have been Brell. He’s literally the finest example of Starfleet that I’ve ever met… Oo ::Dermont filled the moments of silence by taking bigger swings and stirring his apples.:: Brell: Speaking of your daughter, isn’t she due here today. ::Happy for new conversation, he nodded and his expression became nervous.:: Dermont: Yessir...I haven’t seen ‘er in person since b’fore I graduated. So ‘ere’s ta positive thoughts and not makin’ a royal mess o’ things! ::He took another swig of ale.:: But anyways, sar, I know we love ta eat, but surely we can’t eat it all. Brell: With the amount of food here we might want to send up a message to Atlantis for anyone to join in if they wish. Dermont: Agreed. =/\= Dermont ta Atlantis =/\= Atlantis Ops: =/\= Atlantis here, sir. =/\= Dermont: =/\= The Captain and I seem ta ‘ave made too much food. How about spreadin’ the word any hungry folks should meet us down ‘ere. And we’ll save a bit fer yerself, too. =/\= Atlantis Ops: ::there could hear the smile in the man’s voice.:: =/\= I think that can be arranged, sir. And thank you, sir. Atlantis out. =/\= Dermont: So sir, you at a stoppin’ point? These shorts are trunks and I’ve got towels...fancy a swim? ::The Bolian grinned, and sat down his spatula, beginning to un button the loose fitting beach shirt he was wearing.:: Brell: Things are at a point they could simmer awhile, and as I learned when I brought the family down a few days ago. The water here really is splendid. ::They closed the grill hoods, and headed to the enjoy the pristine waters. Probably making quite a sight to any of the permanent planet residents unused to seeing unfamiliar aliens.:: ((OOC: We got this one out a bit later in the shore leave than intended, however either of us would be happy to backsim with any that wants to join in. Or feel free to mention your character stopping by in your own leave wrap up simming.)) Captain Brell - Commanding Officer USS Atlantis NCC-74682 Academy Deputy Commandant E239109B10 & Lieutenant JG Valin Dermont Chief Engineering Officer USS Atlantis NCC-74682 A239410VD0
  4. ((Set on Day Two of Shore Leave)) ((USS Atlantis, Dermont's Personal Quarters - Deck 4)) ::Dermont trudged into his quarters and tossed a PADD and his thermos into a chair. He unzipped his uniform and took off the outer jacket, allowing it to share space in the chair. He sat on the edge of his ottoman and bent down, giving a groan of relief as his boots slipped off. As he leaned back, something across the room caught his eye. It was a slow blink on the his personal console. He frowned at it. Really he had almost forgotten about it. That light had been blinking since long before the repairs at DS26 and just yesterday he would have been content to let it blink for all eternity. but now...:: oO What's changed? Yer still the same ole pain in everyone's [...], yeah? Oo oO Didn't use ta be that way...some would've called me fun. Oo oO You mean yer wife, right? Isn't she yer ex-wife now? Oo oO Shaddup... Oo ::Sighing heavily to himself he strode over to the console and pulled out the small chair from under it. He took a seat and decided it was time to do something about that light. The greying engineer hovered his finger over the button for several seconds, letting out an audible growl at his own hesitation.:: Dermont: Damn you...me... ::He jammed his finger down much harder than he needed to. The console immediately sprung to life, displaying his list of awaiting messages. He swore a second time, this time under his breath and he gripped the edge of the console hard. What the hell?:: Dermont: Sixty-three....::It came out as little more than a whisper.:: ::Sixty-three messages. He had not checked his messages since graduating the academy. And any time someone had tried to make contact with him live, he always found an excuse that he was too busy. It was never really a lie. Dermont was always busy. He made sure of it.:: oO But sixty-three? I don't even know sixty-three people...and damn sure not sixty-three who liked me. And how long have I no checked a message? Eight months? Nine? Oo ::There was nothing to do now except listen to them. He took a deep breath and then another one. One the third he tapped the first message. So it began. An image of his mother appeared. Helen Dermont. The wonderfully kind Mama Dermont, halfway to eighty years now. She had a sad smile.:: Helen: Valin, I know you didn't wanna fuss, but I've gotta tell ya, I'm just so proud of you. Over forty or not, yer my boy and ye've made me so proud... ::He frown as he listened. Another growl escaped his lips as he went to the next message. Mama again.:: Helen: I know ya need yer space, son. But I love you... ::Next. Mama again. Next. His father. The of them looked very similar except Marcus Dermont's hair was cropped short and his beard was trimmed. There was a familiar scowl planted on his face.:: Marcus: Dammit, boy. You better call your mama. She so proud of you fer some damn reason and yer breakin' her heart ignorin' her. Ignorin' yer family... ::More messages congratulating him. His ex-wife sent a brief note saying well done, be mainly reminding him to send a message to their kids sometime. The time was daughter, Brienna, and he nearly cried. Thirteen years old and brilliant. She was a jewel of perfection with the exception of one thing: she still thought her father was someone special.:: oO Poor kid... Oo Brienna: Dad, I know you've not talked to Mama Dee or mother and I just wanting to say that it's okay. I know you just miss Uncle Maz. I just wanted to say I love you... ::He jumped away from the console and kicked the chair across the room. Dermont suddenly felt a pain in his chest and found it hard to catch his breath. He stumbled to the shower, peeling off his clothes as he went. He crawled into the stall and just lay there, trying to breath between tears. He didn't know if he was more angry than sad, but he didn't it wasn't anyone's fault but his own.:: oO Oh you wanted ta be alone, didn't ya! Well here ya go! You get to look at all the people ya pushed away! Get ta see how yer bein' an [...] makes them hurt just like ye'd been hurtin'! This is all yer fault, ya damn idiot... Oo ::He wasn't sure how long he laid there, but at some point he actually took a shower and got himself dressed. He gathered back up the chair and sat back at the console. He tried to control his breathing as he began again. The old engineer decided he was going to finished this list. He needed to. They had reached out to them and he owed it to every person on here to listen to what they had to say.:: Helen: Merry Christmas, Valin! It sure would be nice to hear... Brienna: Merry Christmas, daddy! We heard you were moved to the Atlantis! Mother got me... Kyleanna: How about you just try and act like a father for Christmas?! Your daughter hasn't heard from you in months... ::The messages went on and on. He heard from his uncle and his aunt. His brother and his younger sister. His mother kept up the called, sometimes breaking into tears. Maddius, his old boss and best friend's dad reached out, as did nine other members of that family. That almost made him smile. That Bolian family had adopted him over twenty years ago and were reminding him they were still there.:: oO Great, so ye've disappointed two families... Oo ::He frowned as a picture of Rhona Dermont appeared on his screen. Commander Rhona Dermont of Starfleet Security, currently stationed on Earth. Her hair was pulled up into a severe bun and looking as intimidating as ever at fifty-seven years old. She gave the screen a harsh glare.:: Commander Rhona: So Lieutenant Junior Grade, it appears you are causing me disruptions at my work. I do not enjoy mother showing up in my office asking me to drop what I am doing to hunt you down. Call her. Oh, and I would offer you congratulations on the quick promotion, but I've seen the manifest for the Atlantis. ::slight smile.:: It is pretty slim pickings... ::He scowled at the screen as her image disappeared. The two of them had never been very close. Her and their father both never saw much in the younger Valin Dermont. Too impulsive. Too emotional. He shook her words from his mind and kept going. A message from Rav'riunt the Nausicaan collector that made him scowl. Sent two weeks before the man tried to frame Serala for espionage and then attempted to kill Dermont's son. He deleted it. Next a message from a nameless Bolian. They said four simple words. "Talk to you soon.":: oO Oh, great...just great... Oo ::He got to the last message, not even bothering to hide his tears. There were people that loved him and had not stopped reaching out, trying to reconnect. And how had he repaid them? By ignoring them. He was sad, mad, and happy all at once. The final message was from his son Kurdan.:: Kurdan: Hey dad. Just wanted to say thanks to you and your friends again. Even if it was your fault I appreciated you know...you guys not letting me die. And I know life it hard for you. But hey it is hard on us all. I knew Uncle Maz since I was born, remember? Anyway, I am just saying I will try if you will try. Oh, and why didn't you tell me Brienna was heading to stay will you on the Atlantis for a while?! She'd here now and leaving on the next shuttle leaving DS26! So she will be to you...uhhh...soon, I guess. Anyway, talk to you later, Lieutenant. oO Um...what? Oo ::Brienna coming here? Since when? He had just listened to all the messages and while his daughter he spoke of it several times, Dermont had obviously made no such plans. He sighed for what felt like the thousandth time.:: Dermont: Well, Valin...it appears ye've got a few return calls ta make. ::He tapped a few keys, cleared his throat and looked at the console.:: Dermont: Hi, Mama. Well, a lot has happened... ================= Lieutenant JG Valin Dermont Engineering USS Atlantis A239410VD0
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