Toryn Raga

Just have to say, I think I speak for all of us Atlanteans when I say he's never been more deserving of a punch in the face. Or being beamed into space. Great job as always @Kiliak Jo ((ooc: I offered to write for the incomparable Mr. Perkins some months ago, so I figure I'm up. Uh, obviously I love you all, but I'm writing as Mr. Perkins below, so... rest assured it's all in good fun... I recommend you go easy on the tags ahead though, I'm not trying to upstage your mission with 'local knowledge' if you get my drift)) ((Guest Quarters, USS Atlantis)) Out the window of his cramped, temporary quarters, Lt. Commander Perkins stared at the broken shape of the place he called home and watched the flurry of frantic traffic buzzing away from it. He sipped his water, then shook his head and rubbed at his shoulder, rotating the cuff -- at times it still ached from the heroic shot he had suffered in the line of duty on that fateful day months ago. That nurse they employed on board, the insufferably bubbly Avy or whatever, kept saying she could find nothing wrong with it now, but what did that prove besides a distinct inability to do her job? Serala: =/\= Serala to Lieutenant Commander Perkins. Report to Main Shuttlebay on the double. And bring standard equipment for an away mission, including a Type II Phaser. We launch in 30 minutes. =/\= Perkins: =/\= I am at your service and so pleased to be invited. And I'm even to be allowed a phaser. Capital. =/\= It only further proved his case of how fundamentally lazy, how abundantly incompetent the Atlantis crew was that they could be expected to layabout for half an hour before embarking on such a crucial mission as saving his home station. He endeavored therefore to arrive in half the allotted time just to make a point, and of course, he succeeded. Perkins: First assigned to live under Romulan space and now here I am serving under a Romulan. Never thought I'd see the day, but life is full of surprises, isn't it? Serala: Let me be perfectly clear. I don’t like you and I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you - and trust me I would like to find out how far that is - but you did serve on this station and so your knowledge of it is going to be important to me. You’re coming with us, but I will be keeping a very close eye on you. Be careful, Commander. I am just looking for a reason to throw you in the brig. I still think you have been involved with almost everything that has happened to us since even before the bot attack. Perkins maintained the inscrutable yet undeniably attractive expression he preferred to wear. He had already been confined to quarters twice since arriving aboard, once on some trumped-up charges from a jealous officer and later due to the impossibly-thin skin of an Atlantis crewmember after all he had tried to do was offer some helpful and constructive criticism. Such frequent and flagrant displays of Atlantean stupidity reminded him of a conversation he had once shared with a colleague, that perhaps incompetence was the most perfect cover-up for acts against the Federation. Perkins: My oh my. Serious charges. I'm sure that such a professional and... charming Starfleet officer such as yourself would not offer these creative conspiracy theories without a substantial body of -::ahem:: proof? Serala: No, I can’t prove anything. And that is why you are still walking free and wearing that uniform. And as long as you are, you will conduct yourself in a manner appropriate to a Starfleet officer. And for now, that means helping us on this mission. Perkins: Despite your personal attacks, I will of course be the better man and offer you my full and invaluable support, ::he counted her pips:: ...Lieutenant Commander? oO Really? Starfleet isn't the organization it used to be. Oo Serala: Very good. How many times had he and his team helpfully gone the extra light-year to patch up this sorry excuse of a ship after the merry band aboard saw fit to go gallivanting off into another speck of trouble? This was his thanks. He rubbed the nose of his bridge to stave off another of the headaches he'd been suffering since unceremoniously being forced aboard. He couldn't decide whether the problem here was either a shallow-minded ingratitude or an utter lack of discipline, probably both. Honestly, he wouldn't be all too surprised if these "rescue operations" ended with his station being blown to smithereens. More space trash to float about the Expanse. At that moment, the rest of the assault team entered the bay and he could hear the heavy thumping footprints of some neanderthal stomping over from the shuttle area. Logan: What is he doing here ? Perkins turned and looked over the somewhat-smaller-than-expected marine-clad buffoon, scanning him up and down as he puffed out his chest like a gorilla and pointed. He couldn't recall if they had ever met before. He also couldn't particularly care. Perkins: A little thing called "my duty." Perhaps you've heard of the concept, Mr...? Logan: QUIET! You lost the right to speak a long time ago ! oO And you seem to have rather lost the ability. Oo Serala: As you were, Captain Logan! He’s coming with us. Logan: I'd trust a first year cadet more than him any day. Perkins: That's little cause to behave like one. Logan: I SAID QUIET !!! Serala: ENARRAIN LOGAN, FAEHOR IUT’FEHILL TEMOHRIE AIHR’RRHAAREVHA!! (CAPTAIN ...STAND DOWN AND THAT IS AN ORDER!!) The grumpy Romulan and the Marine with the loose screw stared each other down for a moment. Perkins checked the time. Was this how the new Captain Torham intended to run a ship? Brell was not ideal, but this... Perkins could not understand why Starfleet Command had not elected to select his own commission from the pool of applicants to serve as the new Atlantis Captain and whip these fools into shape at last. But looking around, he considered now whether he had been in fact blessed by being passed over. oO Honestly, they can hardly board a shuttle without a fight breaking out. Oo Serala: He is coming with us, Captain and that is final. I trust this will not be a problem for you? Logan:: Turning his gaze back to the Engineer:: No Ma'am. I won’t let the cause of our problem prevent me from helping to fix it. Kiax: Apologies for my tardiness. I had to show our new crewmate here the way to the shuttlebay… ::She said, jokingly.:: Whatever he did or did not do isn’t our problem right now. Let’s just get underway and sort the blame later. We’ve got a planet to save… The Marine Captain pushed his way through the pair of hot tempers and turned on the unhinged soldier, who didn't seem inclined to back down. McKnight: Captain Logan, stand down. You're speaking to a superior officer. Perkins: And so at last, welcome Miss Kix. Do you have no need to voice a problem against my presence here as well? ::Perkins remembered Shadydust from her role cross-examining him as Killiak's Advocate, and he had read in the crew sheets about the transfer of the Kix symbiont into this young, supposedly "brilliant" Trill. But if Durrmont was any indication, "brilliant" had an entirely different meaning aboard this ship.:: Kiax: No Sir, I’m just eager to get underway. The longer we spend arguing about what got us here, the less time we have to get myself, and SOUL here, to the station’s computer core and figure out a way to get it back to where it belongs. Logan: Response Captain McKnight turned back to Serala. McKnight: Commander, we have a mission to get started on. Best not to keep my men antsy Serala: You’re correct, Captain. I just needed to make sure everyone here understands were all on the same team. If anyone...anyone! … feels that they can’t work within those guidelines they should leave now. Anyone? No? Good. The two Marines had a little talk, probably about what exactly the process of a court martial would look like after assaulting a superior. The paranoid Romulan gave them a few minutes to finish, then decided they had waited long enough. Serala: ALRIGHT! LOAD UP! DEPARTURE IN TWO MINUTES. YHFEV! (MOVE IT!) Perkins: Finally. After you, gentlemen. Chop chop. Hero-work to do. ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Perkins Engineer at Large Deep Space 26 A239509KJ0 ---------------------------------------------- courtesy of ---------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Kiliak Jo Asst. Chief Engineer USS Atlantis A239509KJ0 -----------------------------------------------

((Absolutely great glimpse back into s small portion of the history of our fleet. Great job @Jalana)) (( Dream - Flashback, Trill Private Service, TSS Farel, 2230 )) There he was, all calm and quiet, as if he had all the time in the world instead of being executed in less than a day. She had not seen a single motion from him ever since he had been brought into the cell and sat down on the thin pallet that was his bed. A statue. That kind of statue that had killed millions of people in a purge only he and his followers believed in. Her ocean blue eyes remained on the unmoving body. She had come here to see the man who had killed so many. His last stop had been a colony Orgilum IV. Several ships had responded immediately to the distress calls and after he was found to be responsible, Apria had been the one to be put in charge, to make sure he'd arrive in the Klingon Empire for his sentence. She knew that they were helping the Federation with that, which she did not like at all, but this man needed to be punished. It was hard to not take that task upon herself, but she had orders. Apria stood just as still, arms crossed in front of her, as if the first to move would lose. The knee long black uniform jacket closed up after covering her throat, so neither the security officer at the door, nor the man inside the cell would see her throat tremble in the immense effort not to scream in fury. She couldn't understand how he could be so calm after ending so many lives. Finally she couldn't stand the quiet any more. Apria Rajel: Why? He slowly turned his head and looked at her with his dead dull eyes, pretending that he had not seen her standing there in the dimmed light of the brig's control room. Silence, but even without words he made her feel uneasy, like she'd be next on his list. He could be considered handsome, if not for these eyes staring at her like the grim reaper on a field trip. Mida Shayzier: Why what, Kezra? His voice, so soft and melodious sent shivers down Apria's spine. There was no surprise that he was able to interpret the 5 bands on her shoulder and fit them to the correct rank. She had taken Command just a few months ago so she was not a full Tezra yet. She pressed her lips onto each other. A. Rajel: You know what, Shayzier. Why? M. Shayzier: It had to be done. She stepped forward, closer to the force field that would hold her back from doing the Klingons' job right here and now. A. Rajel: You just HAD to kill millions of people? He raised from the pallet and stepped forward looking down right into her eyes. Apria forced herself to not step back again, no matter how much her inner alarm screamed to get away from him. M. Shayzier: ::whispering:: They were weak, Kezra. Her ocean blue eyes squinted, as her fingernails dug into the fabric of her uniform covering her elbow. It would be so easy, just lowering the field and he would be hers to sent into the fiery pit. It took her everything to remain calm to the outside. A. Rajel: In less than a day you will join them. We will see who'll be weak then. Chills ran down her spine as he smiled, as if she had said the most beautiful compliment in the galaxy. M. Shayzier: You can't stop it. It will come and the weak will cease. A. Rajel: It? M. Shayzier: ::He smiled a little more:: You will see. Everyone will see. Apria wondered what he was talking about. Was he threatening them? Did he have something planned that would fall over the galaxy? Who would help him? With his death Sicarius would be done. Did he know about something that nobody else had heard about? Or did he have delusions and there was nothing but the voice in his head to kill? Security Officer: Kezra Rajel, Bridge reports that we are passing the border. As Shayzier pulled up the corner of his mouth she knew that it didn't mean anything good. Did he plan to kill the Klingons as well? Were they followed? She had to get back to the bridge right away. A. Rajel: Thank you. ::She spoke without taking her eyes off the walking-almost-dead in front of her, as if he could possibly reach through the energy field.:: No matter what you have planned you can forget about it, Shayzier. I will hand you to the Klingons and will make sure personally that you can't do any more harm. Enjoy your trip. It's the last you'll have. :: He still smiled as she turned without another word. M. Shayzier: It won't be over. It will continue. You'll be next.. Jalana. (( /Flashback Dream )) With a loud gasp the Trill woke and jumped into a sitting position. The darkness engulfing her disoriented her for a moment, only her panting breath filled the air. Her eyes flickered around, spotting the Starfleet badge on the nightstand next to her. Starfleet. Yes... Jalana.. .She was Jalana not Apria. She was on the Conny. Not on the Farel. This dream... what had that been about? She remembered everything like she had seen it, it was a memory rather than a dream. But that last bit was different. Apria in reality had left the brig to head to the bridge. Only a few hours later she had delivered Mida to the Klingons. The Klingon Officials had allowed her to be present and she hadn't looked away once when Mida Shayzier had been executed, she still could feel that gaze on her as if he had wanted to make sure that she saw it. She hadn't batted an eye, no matter how cruel it was and when they had been done and his body lifeless, she had approached to feel for a pulse and make sure that he really was dead, just then she had beamed back to the Farel and headed back towards Trill. But how did the Mida in this dream know the name of her future host? What did it mean that she'd be next? A cold shiver ran down her spine. Rajel: Computer, lights. The darkness was vanquished, but the odd feeling wasn't. With Shayzier's death Sicarius had been uprooted and destroyed. She had read about underground groups coming up more and more often, claiming to act in his name. Sicarius was back, but they wouldn't come here, right? They didn't know her, right? Nugra... he had mentioned them during the party. That must be it. Just a dream called by her subconscious mixing in some fear of retribution of a dead man. That must be it. Yes. It still made her feel uneasy, feeling that tingling in her back as if someone was watching. Rajel: Computer, how many people are in my quarters? Computer: Only Captain Jalana Rajel is in these quarters. Jalana took a deep breath. Of course. It was nothing. Just a dream. ----- Fleet Captain Jalana Rajel Commanding Officer USS Constitution B Image Team Co-Facilitator A238906JL0 GTalk: JessWerner79@gmail.com, Yahoo: Lawinia_A@yahoo.de , Skype: chandni_khondji, Discord: Jessi#6085 Email: werner-jessica@gmx.de -- *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "Maybe it was a gas leak in the shed." Her parents' mumbling voices went past Alana, it was all too much for her. Never had she seen a fire like that, and the pile of ashes in the garden showed how lucky they were that nobody had been inside when it went off. But something felt wrong with what her brother said. Not the words themselves in the first moment, but seeing their gazes, the looks her parents shot over to her every now and then. They were full of shock and something else that the little ten year old girl had never seen before. Fear. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Ashwood Falls - Sra'kalor *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

((Best dates always end up in jail, right? :P)) ((Hinji Sector - Starbase 104)) Yito: You hear that? Spears: Yeah. Some kind of a disturbance back in the main area. ::They weren’t the only ones to notice. The people around them started to shift uneasily. Some moved toward the source of the shouting, the majority tried to move closer to the walls and into the studio.:: :: Seja listened quietly, hoping to pick something up a stray comment, so kind of clue but everyone was just speculating like them. :: Spears: I mean, I feel like we should go check it out… Yito: We are not on duty. Spears: Well no, we’re not but… This is a pretty remote part of the station. I doubt anyone else will be around to investigate. Yito: Ok. :: Sighing :: I guess someone could be in trouble. Spears: ::Grinning:: Lead on, oh chief of security. :: Seja lead the way back through the crowds of people following the shortest route to the loudest of the noise. :: ::The shouting from the main area wasn’t just a mild disagreement; it was a full-blown protest. Hinji, Linarans, and even a Ferengi were shouting, flashing holographic protest banners, and generally making a mess of the place. All seemed to be showing their general disdain for the Federation.:: Spears: Well these folks seem pleasant. Yito: Very pleasant. I think we need to call for back-up, there are rules against these kinds of protests. :: A voice spoke up over the speakers. :: Speakers: This is a peaceful art exhibition and we welcome all people from all worlds as a neutral group. Please leave this area. :: There was an angry uproar from the crowd. Seja pointed to the Hinji women on the mic. :: ::Ed looked to where Seja was pointing, seeing the Hinji woman.:: Yito: If I can see her so can they. Speakers: We will call security if you don’t.... :: The power was cut off to the mic. :: Spears: Oh that’s not good. This isn’t going anywhere good… ::Ed started to move in the direction of the artist-with-a-mic out of instinct more than anything else.:: Yito: You know we aren’t meant to get involved. :: Seja knew it was the right thing to do to help this person get out of here. She could be in danger, Seja didn’t know whether or not the protest would turn violent. :: Spears: ::Shrugging helplessly:: I don’t like where this is going. I know anti-federation sentiment flares up here from time to time but... Yito: Fine I’ll be right behind you. Yito: =/\= Security emergency, security needed in Hinji section :: She wish she knew exactly where they were. :: ar... =/\= :: Her commbadge was thrown out of her hand. :: Linaran: Starfleet… all alone now. :: Seja stood ready to defend herself but he didn’t attack, he just walked away. She moved over to Ed. :: Yito: We need to get out of here now. Spears: OK, yeah… That’s not good. ::Ed looked around for Seja’s comm badge, but it had been lost under trampling feet. Ed reached his hand into his pocket and squeezed his own comm badge, activating its silent distress signal. Was that a bit of overkill given no one had technically done anything violent (yet)? Maybe…:: Linaran: Hey! Someone just sent a signal from somewhere in here! ::Ed cringed as one of the magnificent metal sculptures was pulled down in front of the main access hatch, completely blocking them all inside.:: Linaran: There’s more Starfleet here! Find them! We’ll make an example of them… Spears: We need to find another way out… :: Seja looked around trying to access where the greatest danger would come from. :: Yito: The front entrance is blocked. Spears: Maybe through the back. Let’s try it. ::Ed ducked through the people as they started to panic. The protest group was small but seemed to have a plan. The crowd was large and running on instinct. The two groups were about to boil over into a crisis and Ed didn’t want to be caught in the middle.:: Yito: There has to be another way out. Where the artists come in and out? Spears: I’m thinking, I’m thinking. ::It all seemed to be one huge dead end. No matter which little alcove they went into it was just another place to store tools or materials instead of a convenient door or access point. Suddenly Ed heard a familiar whine of transporter beams in the space.:: Security Team Lead: Starfleet security! Everyone stand down! Linaran: Down with the Federation! ::There was a crash of shattering glass and a whoosh that Ed felt as much as heard. A pyre of flame leapt up high enough from the main room that they could see it over the partitions. Screams erupted from the main area.:: Spears: What did they do!? Security Team Lead: Medical! We need medical down here! ::Ed started to push his way toward the commotion. Someone clearly needed help! He elbowed his way past a security officer and several grappling people. Whether they were trying to get away from the flames or at the security officer, Ed never found out. Something heavy hit him in the side of the head and he crashed to the deck only to be trampled by several terrified people. Ed’s vision swam out of focus and sound faded away until his consciousness left him.:: :: Seja rushed after him, not certain this was a good idea but not willing to leave him alone. Seja was soon separated from Ed by the terrified crowd running the other way. She pushed her way through the crowd and finally found him a couple of minutes later lying unconscious on the floor his head bleeding. He didn’t see what had happened but he didn’t seem safe there as a fight brewed around him between security and some of the angry locals. :: ((Brig, Starbase 104 - an hour later)) ::Ed woke up feeling like he’d been his by a shuttlecraft. His eyes squinted at the harsh light coming down at him from above and he felt that he was lying down on something less comfortable than a standard biobed. Ed tried to sit up but groaned instead. Funny how he wanted his body to do one thing but it did another…:: Yito: Hi :: Looking down at Ed, glad to see him awake. :: Spears: Hey… You OK? Yito: Me, I’m fine, a few bruises and a broken nose, oh and we happen to be in the brig. Spears: Huh… Really? The brig? Never been in one of those before… ::He finally took in his surroundings. Yup. Brig.:: TBC JP by Lieutenant Yito Seja Chief of Security USS Constitution-B ID number: E239306LB0 & Lt Edward Spears, MD Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B C239502ES0

((Absolutely entertaining sim. Totally adorable couple.)) ((Promenade - Starbase 104)) ::The party was over, the last patients had been transferred to the station, Cadet Malyz had volunteered to oversee the resupply of sickbay after all the materials they had used during the mission. That meant Ed was blissfully free to do the one thing he’d been looking forward to since the mission ended; finally getting some free time with Seja. Ed was sure they both knew what they were getting themselves into. Both were department heads. Both put their roles on the ship before any personal considerations. Ed knew Seja would throw herself in front of a discharging phaser to save any member of the crew, just as Ed would throw himself headlong into the middle of any danger in order to help patch someone up. And despite the adrenaline that accompanied both of their positions, they’d been taking the relationship slowly. Ed was a little worried that things might have ramped up quickly, fuelled by that adrenaline, but ultimately being something fleeting. That had never been Ed’s style, though things don’t always go according to plan. But here he was, dressed up in his chinos and a button-down shirt, ready to meet the woman he had found himself irresistibly drawn to. And she never kept him waiting. Ed smiled as he watched her walk around the corner.:: :: Seja had again struggled to find the perfect outfit and was beaten by Ed to her vandaveer point. She didn’t want to wear the same outfit she wore last time and realised her civilian wardrobe was lacking in suitable date wear mostly filled with sports gear and casual cargo trousers and tops. But she wanted to make an impression on Ed and would need to go shopping if this continued. She wore matching dark brown trousers and top with a dark red leather style jacket and she wore the same necklace as previously. It was of viking design and had been given to her paternal grandmother had given her. :: Spears: Hey Seja. :: Seja smiled he looked handsome in his civilian wear. She had been looking forward to seeing him again ever since their first date on the shuttle but the conference and then work had got in the way. But with all the scientists of the ship having been assigned quarters on temporary station or tickets on transports and all the reports written. She now had the free time. :: Yito: Hey Ed. I see you beat me here again. :: Faking frustrated tone. :: Spears: ::Grinning:: Well we can keep trying to one-up each other about who arrives first, but then we might just end up everywhere together all the time. Yito: Next time. :: A determination in her voice. :: Spears: I can be competitive, you know. ::Ed thought about the buggy training. Yeah. Everyone had seen his competitive side there.:: Yito: As can I. :: Remembering the buggy race and advising the young ensign to cause a sandslide onto the Ed’s fallen buggy. She wondered if Ed had known she was the first to fire. :: ::As he recalled, Seja had been pretty driven to win as well.:: Spears: Oh I’ve seen it. ::Chuckling:: Yito: So, what is the plan? Spears: Well, I was thinking about this cool jazz place. But then I heard about an art exhibit. It’s a pop-up art show by some locals to the sector, and will only be here a week before they tear it all down. :: At the mention of Jazz Seja felt excited she loved music. Her heart dropped a little when he suggested something else but she kept a straight face not wanting to disappoint. :: Yito: Tear it all down? :: Seja was confused, she assumed he meant move it somewhere else. :: Spears: All in the name of art I suppose. And yeah, when they say tear it all down that includes the art. I heard the last show they ran ended up with them all in the brig for arson. They um, accidentally burned down the whole studio. :: It seem a little extreme to her. :: Yito: How they manage that? Spears: Well there are a couple of Hinji sculptors who like to make metal sculptures with plasma torches. I guess they got carried away. Yito: Sounds dangerous. :: This art exhibition was starting to sound more interesting than originally thought. :: Spears: Art, Seja! Probably best to just go with the flow. I also hear they work on the exhibit while people walk through so we’ll see some of the creative processes. And maybe some of those plasma torch sculptures! Yito: Ok, it sounds fun. So where this is Art Exhibition? Spears: Oh it’s in some underused engineering space in the Hinji Bazaar. It will probably take a little searching but I’m told it should be easy enough to find if we follow the signs. Yito: Lead the way ((Hinji Sector - Starbase 104)) :: They took the lift down the Hinji Bazaar. As they walked out Seja could feel the buzz. The shouting of sellers and smells of foreign food cooking. It had been a while since she’d travelled through the Hinji bazaar and she wished she had taken the chance to return sooner. She followed Ed as he led the way weaving their way through crowds and stall. A couple of Hinji pushed wears in front of her colourful pieces of cloth and beads. :: Yito: Thank you. Another time. :: Seja responded back to sellers. :: :: Seja grabbed hold of Ed,s hand so she won’t lose him and pulled him closer so she could talk to him within the crowds. :: ::Ed blushed slightly as he felt Seja’s hand find his. He settled into an easy walking pace. They pasused occasionally as a group of children would run by, or a vendor pushing a cart would roll by. Soon they were at the periphery of the bazaar and the crowds had thinned.:: Yito: How much further? Spears: Not far. Should be just through an access point over there and then down to the sub-deck. :: They moved out of the crowds and around the back where the metal walls were revealed. Several storage locker with door like those to the cargo and goods that had expanded out piled up next to them. There was also a carpeted corridor leading back to the Starbase that she assumed contained quarters. They were at the bridge between the two worlds. :: Yito: How did you hear about this exhibition? Spears: From a patient, actually. I guess he keeps up with the counterculture in the region and this was on his radar. He promised it would be worth checking out. Yito: Interesting, being a doctor you must meet people from all different walks of life. But I never saw you as into counterculture? Spears: Well I do have some credentials in anthropology. And I’ve always had a soft spot for the people who challenge the status quo. Yito: I’ll bear that mind. :: When Seja had first meet Ed she’d seen him as green and straight laced but now she was starting to see more and more of a rebellious side with the buggies and now this art exhibition. She found it interesting, fun, sexy. :: Yito: I’m looking forward to seeing what is there. I’ve never been to counterculture art project as you put it. :: Relk had been to art collections but mostly comic and streampunk. Seja had nosed at a few of the brochures but had never been along. :: Spears: Well, I have no idea what we’re going to find down here either. Yito: So a surprise for both of us :: A wide smile. :: ::They walked through another access hatch and found themselves in a brightly lit space filled with people of every description from across the sector. All of them were speaking in hushed tones as they moved around the improvised studio space and watched the artists at work. Everything was on display from sculpture to graffiti, to dance, to body art. It was a stunning amalgamation of individual expression.:: Spears: Wow. I never thought the exhibit would include someone getting tattooed in front of an audience. ::He stared at a muscular man wearing nothing but a pair of trousers, but without more than the occasional bit of skin showing. His body was a canvas of intricate designs and a similarly tattooed woman was working on filling in some of his remaining spaces.:: Yito: It sure is different. :: Seja still wasn’t certain of what to make of the space. She looked at a large piece of graffiti in a language she didn’t recognize. It was set in space with alien planets and ships around the text, it was stunningly done. :: Spears: This is incredible. Yito: They are talented. Spears: I used to think I know what that meant. But there are so many people out there who all find such unique methods of expression. I can’t help but feel awestruck by it all. :: Seja could see a flickering light coming from the other room. The colours reminded her of one of the ship board emergency simulations they did at the academy. Seja moved herself close to Ed, so he could hear her clearly. :: Yito: I think the Hinji plasma sculptures are this way. :: Seja then moved away pulling him by his hand excitedly to the room with the flicking light. :: ::Ed allowed himself to be pulled into the next room, glad that Seja was enjoying herself as much as he was.:: Spears: Can’t wait to see what they’ve- ::He stopped himself short:: Wow. :: They entered into a crowded room and had to wait their turn to be pushed to the front. It was atmospheric as they waited, the different colours and speeds of flashing light like music and the hum of the touches. Seja anticipation grew and she wasn’t disappointed. There were 3 Hinji at the front working on different structures of animals, all at different stages and there were several finished animal sculptures around. As Seja had visited the Hinji homeworld when she first arrived on Conny, she knew the importance of the connection first hand. :: ::The work was unlike any form of sculpture Ed had seen before, and yet it was instantly familiar in a way as well. He figured that was the hallmark of truly incredible art in this modern era. Something both foreign and recognizable. And the method! The Hinji applied the plasma torches with such smooth, somehow melodic grace. Ed had no idea how melody could be translated into physical rather than auditory form and yet… The metal shimmered and glowed under the intense heat and he could watch it morph before his very eyes, but subtly.:: Yito: This is amazing Spears: I’ve never seen anything like it… :: Seja stood in awe for several minutes, just watching and taking all the intricacies of the structures. Seeing more and more of the tiny details the closer she looked. Her thoughts were interrupted by shouting back in the large main room. :: ::Ed had thought about injecting a joke; something to break them both out of the reverie that seemed to be attached to watching these master craftspeople at work. But to ruin the moment seemed like a terrible shame. Unfortunately, the shouts from the next room seemed to break the moment for them.:: Yito: You hear that? Spears: Yeah. Some kind of a disturbance back in the main area. TBC JP by Lieutenant Yito Seja Chief of Security USS Constitution-B ID number: E239306LB0 & Lt Edward Spears, MD Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B C239502ES0

You're only just now figuring this out?

Thanks! @Maddi Hyden I was quite emotional while writing this. I'm glad you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Though we all love our characters and don't want them to suffer, this is part of what helps them grow. Have to balance the good, with the bad.

Thanks! I had a lot of fun envisioning an MSPNPC that was different than the ones we've had before. Glad it was an enjoyable read.

oO ((Deck 13 - A Strange Experience)) When she could see again, the first thing she saw was herself. She was lying on the floor of Deflector Control, her eyes were shut. Raga was leaning over her, he was mouthing words but made no sound. She looked down at her hands, they were her hands, and she wasn't frightened but she couldn't help but wonder if she was alive or dead. A voice answered her. Prao: Still poking around in places you shouldn't be, eh Jojo? She spun around. Only one person called her that. It was unmistakably the voice of her deceased brother. Kiliak: Prao? How is this possible? He smiled, but then turned away. Kiliak chased after him, but he moved with an impossibly fast step. She couldn't catch up. He disappeared into the Turbolift, but when she entered it, the lift was empty. It came to life with a quake and took her up to the next floor. ((Deck 12 - The Kiliak Breakfast Table)) She stepped out of the lift and was engulfed in blackness. As she walked, buzzing lights began to pierce the black veil, vibrating in the black. She looked back for the lift, but it was gone. Her body drifted, helplessly, like seaweed swept up in an unknowable cosmic tide. Just beyond the edge of her sense's peripheries, she knew there were creatures of insatiable appetites lurking, stalking her. A red sun approached her, then with a thunderous crack, split open, pouring forth its golden honey into a cup of Deka tea, its steam rising, twisting, forming the golden blue hues of the Jenatris Cloud. Beside her mother's cup of Deka tea, the morning's Hasperat Stew cools on the breakfast table. A man has come to the door to whisper and to scare them. Jo sees herself slinking low beneath the table. Why is mother crying? But she knows why. Today is the day they learn the rest of the story, they learn what happened to Prao. But she just saw him! He's fine, he's okay! She wants to tell them all, but she cannot find her voice. It was all a lie, it never happened. The man lies, he says Prao was shot down, killed by Gul Multak, and she couldn't believe it then and she was right, she was right, she knew it all along. Then there is another person at the table. She shouldn't be here. The beautiful, dark-eyed alien sits at the breakfast table, her name is all X's and L's but Jo cannot remember her but is sure she knows her from somewhere. They make eye contact there and the woman's eyes widen with surprise, and then Kiliak is falling, falling upwards into the infinite blackness of those eyes. Kiliak screams. ((Deck 11 - In Line at Ashalla Spaceport)) Jo screamed and her vision was blurred with tears. She feebly kicked at her mother's shins with tiny feet, her mother muttered curses Jo had never heard before. The Bajorans around her each stare at the dirt, and everyone knows this feels wrong, other children are crying, other mothers are scolding. The ship is ugly, it looks like it will fall apart before it gets to orbit, it will be too hot inside, she hates it, she hates it, she wants to stay here on Bajor with her friends, with the woods behind her Uncle's house, with the Bickett that sometimes would come to her window for a surreptitious snack. Bajor is all she knows. Her mother places her on the ship's ladder. She doesn't cry anymore. She looks up, and dutifully climbs the rungs. ((Deck 10 - Bajoran freighter Tol'Riki)) Inside the ship it is another ship, one she recognizes, the freighter Tol'Riki, the first interstellar ship she came to truly know backwards and forwards, and there in the [...]pit, she sees herself, a grown woman now. She inhabits this other self, this mirror image, and she leans deeply over a man with a high-ridged nose in the pilot's seat. She places one hand on his chest. He smiles shyly, looking at something else. She looks down at herself, at her body filled with youth and vigor, the memory now like a haunted mirror, a sick wave of envy passing over her for powers now bygone like Moba rotting in the late autumn, here was a woman who was basked in irresistible light and didn't know, who only scratched the surface of learning that she could take whatever she wanted from men. Otti. She has him in this moment, in this simple smile, and she will have him for months, weeks, nights until one hour, an hour when after it passes, never again. Otti: What do you say? You take the copilot chair and see what it's like to drive from up here for once? Kiliak: Just like that, hm? Close the airlocks and make a break for Risa? Kiliak looked out the viewscreen. The station beside them blinked with lights, and traffic of small droids buzzing about. Then the black, pulsing with stars, calling. She looked back at Otti, and he opened his mouth to speak, but the voice wasn't his and the words were all wrong. Otti: Request emergency medical transport directly to sickbay. She has the foreign device in her hand. It didn't make any sense. She looked at her hand and saw she was holding a tacklebox. She looked ahead. There, through the viewscreen. Out there. She could swim to the surface of the River of Stars. She dived. ((Deck 9 - The Frontmost Edge of the USS Atlantis)) It was so ordinary to swim through space, she wondered why she never realized she could do it before. She spun round into a backstroke, looking back at the shore of the ship, her Atlantis, so large and beautiful, and there sitting on the frontmost edge was Captain Brell, wearing a floppy hat and bearing a long, stringed pole. Brell: Oh good, you have it! Just what I need! As Jo sat beside him, Brell selected a lure from the tacklebox and cast his rod into the Cloud. Kiliak: I'm really confused. Are you here? Am I dead? I can't believe what I am seeing. A comet streaks past them, the fiery cobalt light warming Kiliak's face, engulfing her in blue. Brell: The eyes tell capricious lies. Appearances are deceiving. Something is tugging on the line. He reels it in carefully, expertly, coaxing the strength of this unknown nebula swimmer to him with gentle, controlled turns on the reel. But all of a sudden, the line snaps with a flash of lightning. Kiliak looks back at Brell, but it will not be Brell she sees. Gul Multak: You will follow me now, Kiliak Jo. She will run. She will try for the shuttlebay doors. She will not make it there. Leather-faced guards will tackle her to the ground before she makes it to the courthouse door. ((Deck 8 - Cardassian Holding Cell)) These four walls. Tomorrow will be the Gratitude Festival. She will not eat. Gul Multak comes to her door. Gul Multak: Eat, child. You cannot truly expect your pathetic protest will come to anything. Nobody will notice your death. Eat. She will not touch the food. She will look up, through the small viewscreen. She will see herself, in another year, another night, another Gratitude Festival, with friends gathered all around. She will imagine she can fly there with a simple thought. Oo ------------------------------------ Ensign Kiliak Jo Engineering USS Atlantis A239509KJ0 ------------------------------------

((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

((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

((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

((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