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  1. (( Apollo Camp, Medical tent, Planet Eridea )) :: Standing next to Sundassa she looked down on her friend. Something did not make sense to her. She felt a little strange, so light and as if something was missing, but she could not say what. Sun was hovering over a patient, running scans with her tricorder as the communicator beeped. :: Jaxx: =/\= Jaxx to Commander Faranster. =/\= Faranster: =/\= Glad to hear your voice, it got quiet here. Jalana's out... =/\= Laxyn: WHAT?? .oO What is she talking about? Oo. I am right here? Will we need to make an eye exam?? :: But the lilac haired woman did not react to anything she said, actually her talking had been mingled with the voice of the Captain who had kept talking as if he had not heard her objections. What was going on here? :: Faranster: =/\= Hurry back. :: She paused, and added, :: and please be safe. =/\= Jaxx: =/\= Always. Jaxx out. =/\= Laxyn: What do you mean that I'm out? Sun! :: She tried to reach out and touch the shoulder of her friend but that hand went right through her. With wide green eyes she stared at her own hand and tried again but the result stayed the same. .oO That is impossible! Oo. :: Faranster: You hear that Jalana? They have it... Laxyn: .oO She talks with me! Oo. Yes! Yes I hear it... :: But there was no reaction to that either. As she stepped closer to Sun, she suddenly got up and swooshed right through Jalana's body. .oO What the...??!Oo. Gasping the Trill petted over her chest and arms where Sun had gone right through her when she saw it. Her own face, her own body, lying down on the bed on the floor. Her stomach sank and she suddenly felt very sick. :: Laxyn: ::Whispering:: No... No that can't be. Faranster: I'll go help them, Jalana, I'll be right back, don't get worst... Laxyn: By my spots... I don't think it can get much worse. :: It was a rather strange sensation seeing herself lying there without moving. A bit afraid of seeing the result she moved her gaze from the face down to the blanket covered chest. .oO Please.. please breath Oo. The chest moved, slightly, first she thought that it was an illusion caused by the blanket, but it happened again. A sigh of relief left her mouth, she felt like crying for the comforting discovery that she was not dead. :: Laxyn: At least not yet... ::She quickly shook her head:: No, don't even think that. Sun will manage! :: With that she turned, not able to look at her body any longer and walked out of the tent to follow Sun. She wanted to see what happened outside. She saw the new guy van der Weghe, she had helped in the mines and there was Frost and Williams. Triston joined them to help and she hated that she could not do anything but watch. Neither Williams nor Frost looked fresh as the morning anymore. :: Laxyn: Don't tell me they got poisoned too... :: She sighed, aware that nobody would hear her.:: :: Not able to do anything she followed back to the tent, watch Sun work, that she was supposed to do. But right now she was thankful that someone else could help with their medical knowledge. She would have hated to wake up and hear that someone died because she had gotten herself poisoned. When the mayor's monitor began to beep Jalana jumped right to her to help but fell through everything and found herself outside of the tent on the other side of the wall behind the major, with her bumm in the grass.:: Laxyn: Curses! This is annoying! :: Pulling herself back up she sighed. She was usually a pretty positive person but this wasn't really what she needed right now. She poked her head through the tent wall and watched that Sun used a neural paralyser on the mayor. .oO Good that I packed for the most cases I could come up with Oo. She hoped that Sun's plan worked to keep the mayor on delay with that tactic, that way the poison would not spread through her as fast which should keep her alive longer. :: :: Since she could not do anything inside or anywhere for that matter she walked around for a while, nervous about the passing time, but confident that Sun would do everything she could to help everyone. She did not know how much time passed but at some point she saw Andrus heading up in the direction of the camp. He was Betazoid? Maybe he could hear or at least feel her? She had no idea but had to try so she hurried in his direction.:: Laxyn: Andrus... Andrus can you hear me? :: He simply walked on, not paying her any mind. Sighing she followed. .oO What is this even? If I am not a ghost, why in all spots name am I even here like this? Oo. In no time they were up at the tent back with Sundassa and she slipped through the wall into the tent watching them both from the inside. They talked about the Antidote that he brought, thankfully. Of course in that vast pile of equipment she had packed they had everything the needed to replicate the antidote, they just needed to make sure that there would not be any re-infection with it. And of course Jaxx wanted her to get back to work once she was on her feet again. :: Laxyn: So much for getting some rest before going back to work. :: She smirked and shook her head. After this, rest was the last thing she wanted. Her gaze wandered down to her body and she really did not like that view. With a sigh she dropped down on the bed, or rather on the ground beneath, the bed half stuck through her ethereal body as she waited to be able to return into her own body. .oO Of course, what else would happen when I try to sit on the bed. That certainly won't be a new trend. Oo. ----- LtCmdr Jalana Laxyn Chief Medical Officer / Second Officer USS Apollo Image Team Facilitator
  2. ((San Francisco, 239005.21)) ::The bar hadn't changed in six years...and neither had the woman sitting by herself, nursing what he knew would be a Calaman sherry.:: oO Velana. My Velana. Oo ::It might have been the four non-synthetic whiskies running through Cade's system, but suddenly it didn't feel as if all that time had passed. If he squinted his eyes just a little bit, he could almost convince himself that it was May of 2384 instead, and he was there to meet his girlfriend for a much-needed, post-finals drink.:: Cade: ::to the bartender:: Another whiskey. ::He paused.:: And a Calaman sherry. ::A minute later, with a drink in each hand, Cade released a long breath and started across the crowded floor.:: oO Fortune favors the brave. Just like Father always says. Oo ::But his drunken bravado almost gave out when Velana spotted him. Her ice blue eyes grew wide for a fraction of a second before narrowing considerably. Not the greatest welcome, yet Cade kept going.:: Cade: Hey, Vee. ::He held out the sherry.:: You look ready for a second round. ::He hadn't meant it to mean anything more than another round of drinks, but even to his own ears, the words came out with a bit of a leer, as if he was suggesting something far more intimate. So, it wasn't really a surprise when she rose to her feet.:: Cade: I'm sorry. Vee, I swear...please don't go. ::He set the drinks down and regretted it immediately, as he suddenly had no idea what to do with his hands.:: I just...I just wanted to talk to you. Velana: Why? ::She folded her arms over her chest.:: I've been under the impression for the last six years that everything that needs to be said between us has already been said. Cade: You're wrong. ::He swore softly.:: No, that's not what I meant. I mean, yeah, I don't agree, but you have every right to think that...you know...considering what happened... ::He plunged his fingers into his hair.:: This is not how I wanted this to go. Velana: Let me guess. You imagined that you coming over here with a Calaman sherry and a grin would immediately make me forget everything that you... ::When she suddenly stopped, Cade frowned. It might have been years, but he recognized when Velana was on the verge of losing control of her emotions.:: Cade: Vee? Are you all right? ::Her laugh was bitter.:: Velana: Only you, Cade, could have the audacity to stand there and honestly ask me that question. ::She glanced away for a long minute, and when she looked back, there were tears in her eyes.:: My mother is ill. ::He'd only met T'Lan once, during a painfully awkward dinner that Velana had arranged after weeks of pressure on his part, but he'd come away with the impression of a formidable Vulcan mother whose entire world revolved around her only living child. As for Velana, T'Lan was the only family member she had left, save for the sister-in-law she hadn't seen in years. No wonder she was on the verge of a breakdown.:: ::Human apologies would have been meaningless words to Velana. So, he pushed aside that instinct, a trick he'd learned during their time together.:: Cade: Will she recover? Velana: Her doctors aren't certain. I've looked over her tests myself and I want to say that she will, but... ::When she shook her head, her hair swung around her shoulders. Cade swallowed heavily. Did those dark locks still feel like silk?:: Cade: I think she will. Velana: ::with a sharp laugh:: Oh, you do? Cade: I do. Velana: And where did you get your medical degree? ::He took a step towards her, then another when she didn't move back. Up close, he could smell honeysuckle and orange blossoms. Even just a whiff of her scent was enough to bring him back to a time and place when he would have been able to take her in his arms and kiss her tears away.:: Cade: Just a feeling, Vee. ::Lost in the scent, lost in her eyes, he reached out and pulled her to his chest.:: Everything will be fine. ::Maybe she was lost in the past, too, because she didn't try to get away. He would have been no match for her if she had, so he was grateful when she relaxed against him.:: Velana: ::voice muffled against his collar:: I don't know why I came here. ::Her hair did still feel like silk he discovered as he stroked it softly. Why did she have to feel so good? Why did she have to fit so perfectly there in his arms?:: ::How had he convinced himself six years earlier that he didn't need this, didn't need her in his life?:: ::Everything had gone wrong since he'd left Velana in that hotel room after he'd said everything possible to break her heart. But now it was starting to seem like the pieces could be picked up and put back into place.:: Cade: Me neither. Just felt like I should. ::He lifted his shoulders.:: Fate? Velana: I don't believe in fate. Cade: ::smiling:: Right. Luck, then? ::She said nothing.:: Vee... Velana: ::cutting him off:: I haven't forgiven you. Cade: Didn't expect you had. Velana: But I also don't think about you all the time. ::She drew back to look up at him.:: I moved on. Understand? ::He nodded even as he tried to stamp down a wave of jealousy. It wasn't as if he had been celibate for six years. And Alaxa had already told him this several years earlier. That didn't mean it didn't sting, but the blow wasn't debilitating.:: Cade: I think about you all the time, Vee. ::She studied him for a second, the way only she could. Velana had always been able to see through his bravado and ego and lies...except for the one time he hadn't wanted her to: that last night after graduation.:: Velana: Why? Cade: Because. ::He wanted to tell her everything. How he had never stopped loving her, but he'd given in to family pressures and expectations and prejudices. No. Too much time had passed. Or not enough time. Regardless, he just couldn't do it.:: ::So, he kissed her.:: ::If he'd woken up the next morning with any scratches or bruises or bite marks, he might have thought she'd gone into pon farr, but he woke with a smile on his face. Turning over, he reached for Velana...only to find a cold pillow. The tangled sheets were the only proof that she had been there at all.:: Lt. Cade Whitman Ops USS Vigilant Simmed by LtCmdr Velana CMO: USS Vigilant
  3. ((Temporary Quarters, DS-285)) ::His possessions had been beamed over to the temporary quarters that Captain Samuelson had assigned to him, and for the first time in a long time, the Ba'ku was alone.:: ::And it was killing him.:: ::All of the items remained packed, with the Captain knowing that he was headed for another starship soon. There was no point, and the quarters served as little more than a storage space and a bed for the night. All packed, except for one thing: His prized guitar. An ancient acoustic guitar made of the Bhavir wood with a mahogany neck that he had had specially shipped from Earth to Ba'ku when contact had been made with the Federation. The strings were hand-made by one of the best metalsmiths on Ba'ku, and the deep, resonant tone spoke of the loving craftsmanship and care Tyr had applied when he assembled it. It now sat on his knee, his experienced and talented hands gripping the neck and ready to pluck the strings. It was here, alone, with his music, that the Ba'ku sought solace. Shelter from the storm of Sanuye's rage, of Tye's fierce loyalty to his brother, and from the stinging loss of both of his sons. He could blame it on the mission, true, and the chaos that followed, but in truth, it was his fault. He could no longer blame anyone else, and he didn't try.:: ::He struck a G chord, allowing the sound to resonate out of the opening in the guitar and dance across the room, resounding off the walls with a surprisingly good resonance. He searched his mind, through the catalog of songs he'd learned and memorized, for the right one. For the one that matched the mood and the message, and, after several more strums in the key of G, he found it. Taking a deep breath (and, although he would never admit it, wiping away a stray tear), the Ba'ku tapped record on the PADD. When they were infants (which, truly, was not that long ago), music had always been the way to get them to sleep, or stop crying. He hoped that that still held true, and that they would listen, preferably together, to the message from a father trying desperately to maintain a connection with his sons. He strummed the guitar once more, then looked into the PADD and spoke.:: WALTAS: Tye. Sanuye. I know that things have been strained between us, and that I am responsible. I should have been there for you, and I have no excuse. I could blame my duty, my ship or the mission, but I won't do that. I failed in my ultimate duty-the one I have to both of you. I hope that you can forgive me some day, and that we can, at the very least, maintain contact. Wherever you go, I will be with you, and it's my hope that you live full and rich lives. ::Pausing:: I'm leaving on another mission tomorrow, and it's one I may not come back from. I just wanted.. ::His voice broke and he paused, collecting his emotions:: I just wanted to leave you with this..if it's all you'll take from me, it's enough. ::He struck the guitar and slid slowly into the rhythm of the song, his fingers moving across the frets and pressing the strings down to produce the chords. Soon his voice filled the room.:: OOC: http:\\youtu.be\zXwr0JGUCFI ::With the finished notes resonating through his quarters, he ended the transmission and his finger hovered over the send button. After a moments' hesitation, he tapped the PADD, sending a father's hope to two boys who may never listen to it.:: =========================== Captain Tyr Waltas Commanding Officer USS Discovery
  4. Polling closes at 11:59pm Eastern on Sunday, December 1st. This is a run-off poll, where our general membership will choose from the top sims of Rounds 19-24 to find the best sim that will proceed to the final round of the contest. Please read the sims below, which were chosen by a panel of judges (one from each ship) to find the best sims from each round of Set 4: Tal Tel-ar & PNPC Sherana, "I will remember you"Saveron, "The Quick And The Dead"Cade Whitman (PNPC), "Don't Mess with Texas"Rogg, "Finis"Sorel, "Addiction"Tracey Townson, "For The Love Of A Child"If any crew is found "stuffing the ballot" – having everyone on the crew vote for the same sim to ensure it proceeds to the final round – that crew will be eliminated from the contest for the remainder of the year. Good luck to the nominees!
  5. ((Sickbay - Deep Space 6)) ::Eliaan Deron could hear the commotion from half way down the hall but even then, he was still surprised when he entered the main sickbay and saw several members of his staff standing around with equipment littering the floor. As he approached his aide Suvan, a tricorder flew out of a storage cupboard and landed at his feet.:: Deron: What is going on in here? ::The Vulcan gave the closest approximation of a sigh that Eliaan had ever seen from him.:: Suvan: Doctor, we're having some technical trouble with the EMH... Deron: What sort of trouble? ::More equipment was thrown from the cupboard onto the floor and the holodoctor was muttering away to himself in the cupboard.:: Suvan: His holomatrix appears to have been damaged with the recent computer system breaches. I have reported the malfunction to engineering and they have informed me that several systems were cross-linked to circumnavigate security lock outs. Evidently, the EMH program has been linked to the main hologrid... ::The EMH leapt out of the cupboard and stared at them wide-eyed. In his career, Eliaan had seen several different EMH models. The Powers That Be seemed to be fine with the hologram looking completely different each time and while they were all technically the same program, they all had slightly different personalities. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with the needless technical regeneration that Starfleet seemed obsessed with. Despite his familiarity with the other Doctors, the EMH currently looked nothing like the previous versions.:: ::In fact, he looked a little like Lt Commander Breeman, who Eliaan had served with on SB118!:: ::The EMH held a tricorder against his face and was talking into it as if it were a communication device.:: Doctor: Please nature the medical of your problem state! ::The Betazoid raised an eyebrow. It was clear that more than his physical appearance had been altered by the cross-link.:: Doctor: Good cupboard that... bigger on inside than it looks from out here Deron: Can we deactivate him? Suvan: No. His deactivation protocols appear to have been damaged ::Eliaan shook his head and sighed. Why did nothing run smoothly around here?:: Deron: Typical. ::turning to the EMH:: Hello, I am Doctor Deron. Do you know where you are? Doctor: Of course I do, I travel through all time and space! ::If, as seemed likely, holoprograms from the network were bleeding into his matrix then he wasn't technically wrong. Maybe he wasn't even the EMH any more but rather a character from the holodeck. If so, there was a good possibility that their EMH was gone and might not be retrievable and that was bad news for the station. The last time it had been offline it had taken ages to bring it back.:: Deron: Do you know who you are? Doctor: You can call me Doctor Deron: Doctor who? ::The hologram looked confused by the question.:: Doctor: Just The Doctor Deron: I see... ::Before he could say anything else, the Doctor flickered a little.:: Doctor: Oh... what was that? Deron: Your matrix is unstable. Try and hold tight until someone can come and fix it. ::The Doctor seemed to think about that for a moment before he dropped the tricorder onto the deck and leapt back into the cupboard. More chaos ensued as it sorted through the equipment, which meant throwing most of it onto the deck. When it burst back out of the cupboard, it did so with a shout.:: Doctor: AH - HA! ::Eliaan held the bridge of his nose. He was supposed to be off-duty, why did he think he could pop in and pick up some messages without being pulled into some kind of nonsense.:: Deron: Okay, everyone out. Suvan can you wait here with him a second? Suvan: Yes, Doctor. ::The other members of staff filed out of the room and the doors closed behind them. Eliaan issued orders for them to use the other rooms of sickbay and to leave this one empty for now. He then contacted the engineering teams, busy as they were fixing the other damaged systems, this crazed hologram could destroy sickbay. He was assured that they would get to sickbay as soon as they could and with that he re-entered the room. Suvan stood completely still as the EMH leapt around and shouted nonsense.:: Deron: Why is he waving that dermal regenerator around? Suvan: ::deadpan:: I have no idea but he claims it is sonic Deron: A sonic regenerator? He looks insane. Suvan: Indeed. ::At that moment, the Doctor stopped leaping around as he flickered again. He looked up at them both and looked scared at what was happening to him. It dropped the dermal regenerator onto the deck. The next moment, there was a flash of light and the hologram yelled as his matrix whirled and jolted. Even knowing that this was a technical problem, Eliaan was stricken by how it looked and sounded and the worry of what was coming next.:: Deron: By the four deities... ::As quickly as the light and the shouting had started it stopped and to everyone's surprise, the EMH looked completely different.:: Suvan: Fascinating! ::As it began to look at itself on a reflective computer console while tugging on the new hair and making faces at itself, Eliaan realised he had experienced enough insanity for one day.:: Deron: Look, Suvan, the engineering team said it would be here presently. Can you handle things here until they arrive? ::The Vulcan looked crestfallen but nodded.:: Suvan: Of course, Doctor Deron: Great, thanks! ::He headed quickly out of sickbay as the EMH leapt up onto a biobed.:: Doctor: GERONIMO!! ::The doors closed behind him and Eliaan was glad of the silence. He would make it up to Suvan later, somehow, but for now he was just glad to be out of there and back in calm, non-wacky universe of the Federation.:: END Lieutenant Eliaan DeronActing CMODeep Space 6 Simmed by Lt Cmdr Zehn
  6. ((First Officers Office)) ::Eerie buzzed the office and walked into the first officer’s office. He had completed his written narrative of the events that transpired on the bridge and was quite interested in hearing what the Commander had to say. Eerie had always wanted to see what he could do in command of a starship. He walked in and stood at attention, as usual, in front of the Commander..:: Eerie: Lt. Commander Eerie reporting as ordered, sir. ::In his usual formal tone.:: :: Eerie had done a lot of thinking about his actions on the bridge. For the most part he was pleased with his actions. There was always things that he could be improved upon and he noted them in his report. He wanted to do his very best, and was looking forward to any feedback the Commander had to offer. He was happy that the bridge crew had done so well considering that they didn’t normally work together and several of the officers had limited experience on duty posts. The boarding by the Zalkonians had been unfortunate, but he was under orders to get crew members over to the station. He had debated the risks and been surprised by the Zalkonians, dropping their shields with a fully active starbase phaser bank firing at them.:: ::Greir had been reading the mission reports from his department heads. Since stepping up to First Officer he hadn’t had a chance to touch base with everyone to talk about their performance and career aspirations. When his door chimed he figured his first appointment had arrived and upon opening the door Eerie had walked in and reported just as formally as expected. :: Reinard: ::Smiling:: Good day Commander, come on in. ::Greir would normally offer a seat to whoever he was seeing but he knew that the Brikar preferred to stand. He preferred to sit but was considering standing because having the tall Brikar towering over him didn’t make him feel as comfortable as he could be if they were more on each other’s level. :: Eerie: Yes, Sir. ::Eerie noticed that Grier was smiling and took that as a possible good sign.:: Reinard: I’ve read your mission report, it was very detailed and I appreciate that as it couldn’t give us a better record of events. Eerie: Honestly, Sir, I find writing reports somewhat boring but I wanted to document the actions during the event very well. A lot transpired and it was important to get it correct. I was proud of the actions of the crew and hope that is reflected. ::Greir had few questions about the report because it had been put together so well. He had a strong opinion on how he felt Eerie had acted as a commanding officer but first wanted to get a more in-depth and personal insight into how Eerie himself felt things had gone. :: Reinard: I don’t think there’s many people who enjoy writing the reports but they’re important and I do believe you got your viewpoint over well. I believe this was your first time commanding a starship in combat? ::Greir knew that Eerie was quite used to ship combat, but following orders and giving recommendations about how to deal with these kinds of threats was different to being the one who had the final say. It was much harder when the responsibility for the whole ship and crew’s well being fell on your own shoulders. :: Eerie: Yes Sir, It was quite an experience. Something that a simulation will never completely train oneself for. ::Eerie remembered each agonising decision, and he thought he had made the right ones. There was a few he would have changed, but for the most part he was pleased with his decisions. There was always something to learn from each situation as he tried to dissect the actions of that day.:: Reinard: I understand how you feel completely. What was the hardest things for you? Eerie: Probably my greatest weakness, managing people. Making sure that the right people were in the right positions. It was a makeshift bridge crew, I didn’t want to change personnel during the middle of a combat situation. I figured it was best to keep everyone at their posts. ::Eerie had pondered the question about the crew assignments, and while he still debated the decisions he couldn’t come up with better assignments.:: Reinard: Managing people is one of my strengths so let me give you a couple of tips that i’ve always found helpful. Putting people in the right place involves knowing what skills you need for any given situation. Taking the situation you just reported on as an example - you know you need tactical officers on the bridge offering firing solutions and managing the shields, a pilot flying evasive maneuvers, security guarding key locations like engineering and sickbay, and so on. That’s people management on it’s most basic level. If you know the individual better then you can take their strengths and weaknesses into account to truly make sure you have the right people in the right places. I would say to you that if part way through combat someone becomes available that’s better at a job than the person in that place then get them where they need to be. If you have someone manning a station with only a little bit of experience and then your 15 year veteran and department chief becomes available then get them to support that officer. ::Eerie nodded. He agreed with his comments, it was important to have the most experienced personnel in the key areas during a combat situation. The biggest problem and concern Eerie had was the interpersonal relationships he had with the rest of the crew. While it was very important for the crew to follow the orders of someone in charge, it was also important to have a relationship with that person. It was something that was still lacking.:: Eerie: Agreed Commander. Completely. I just feel that I still need to have a better relationship with the crew. I recognize that weakness is something that I need to work on improving but I hope my actions were acceptable. I would like any feedback you would have to improve on that as well. ::It had been an issue that Eerie had struggled with during his entire time off of the Brikar homeworld. :: ::Greir was quite a social, friendly person who managed to easily relate to other people. However there were plenty of people ranked Captain and higher who preferred and thought it more appropriate to maintain something of a distance with crew. Some of them thought that the idea of making friends with the crew could make command decisions more difficult at times for both parties. So although Greir was in the camp of having good relationships with his crew he also recognised two important things. He knew it was not the only approach to command and it certainly wasn’t required, which was just as well because Eerie’s personality wasn’t suited to it and to force himself into a particular mould could make him seem less genuine - that would hurt the thing that he thought really did matter. :: Reinard: I understand what you’re saying about having better relationships with the crew. However it can be really hard, especially on a station or large ship to get to know everyone. What I think matters the most is having respect. If you make good judgements for your crew, speak to them with respect and make sure your department heads are reporting and dealing with problems then you’ll get that respect. ::Eerie knew that he was correct, he had felt that he had the respect of the crew, but he needed to do more. It was something that he would continue to strive achieve, he would make a point to at least know everyone by name at least, and made a issue to engage in conversation on a more regular basis. He also knew that most people liked informal conversations as well. Another area to work on as well.:: Eerie: Yes, Grier. ::He dropped trying to slightly less of a formal tone. He had known Greir the longest other than deBarres and Gwinnett, who had transferred over with him from the Avandar. Eerie had watched the counselor be promoted to first officer and then the rank of Commander.:: Eerie: I know that I need to do better, in that regard. Reinard: Perhaps i’m not making myself clear. I think it’s really great that you want to get to know the crew a bit more. I’m saying that you shouldn’t worry too much because from the point of view of a command officer the thing you need most is respect. I believe you have that. The crew do respect you and it’s because you know your job inside and out and even if you’re stiff you treat them with respect, finally - you make the right calls. Eerie: Thank you. I tried my best, I know there is room for improvement. Always. I hope my actions during the actions met with your approval, I value your input. ::Lowering his tone a bit. :: ::Greir noticed that Eerie had mentioned his actions a few times now and seemed to be seeking approval. He was certainly on his way to delivering his verdict but he wasn’t quite done with the things he intended to talk about first. :: Reinard: Talking about your actions, what do you think went particularly well? Eerie: I was most pleased with the crew, they handled some responsibilities that they were not used to particularly well. There is of course room for improvement. I would like to see more cross training. Something I have thought about. ::Eerie kept talking about there being room for improvement so perhaps he wasn’t as confident about his actions as it first seemed. He also wasn’t quite answering the questions as he asked them or quite picking up on the points he was making. He wondered if he was not communicating as clearly as usual or if he needed to adjust his approach to get more solid answers. :: Reinard: I’m glad that you’re pleased with the crews actions. They followed their orders to the letter. I’m interested to know who you would recommend for cross training and why but for now I want to talk about your actions. What actions or commands did you make that you thought worked particularly well for the situation? Eerie: I knew that we could not stand and fight with the cruisers. The tactics while dangerous, I thought gave us the best chance for survival and to give the station time and us to get the drive operational. Frankly, I like stand up fights but I had to adapt as well. ::The hit and run tactics were something that he was not particularly used to, in fact, his upbring was totally against it, but he had to think what was best for the Vigilant and the crew.:: ::Greir had read about the tactics involved and wasn’t sure he would have chosen that particular course of action. That being said he knew that Eerie knew his stuff when it came to tactical matter considerably better than he did. The Brikar had taken a calculated risk and in this case it had paid off. :: Reinard: Right and it was great to see you weighing up the enemy’s capabilities and making a decision about what the Vigilant could do. The tactics were certainly dangerous and required particular skill from the bridge crew. One of my concerns with that was the proximity to the station. Fortunately the bridge crew did manage to handle the challenge and it worked out just fine. Let’s hope we never have to try it again. Eerie: Agreed. I wouldn’t of tried it with an green ensign on the helm, or me for that matter. Lieutenant Falcon and the shooting of Captain Pavlova, was a major asset. But I hope we don’t have to try that again. Reinard: Right. Is there anything that you feel didn’t go as well as you’d hoped that you’d do differently next time and if so what would you change? Eerie: It goes totally against my nature, but perhaps one more communication try with the cruisers. I don’t know if it would of made any difference. Perhaps it might of given us more time. I don’t know. ::Eerie had been thinking about it for a while, and perhaps another try might of been worth it. He never received any communication from the Zalkonians, it might of been better not to put the ship as such a risk.:: ::Greir could understand why Eerie might think that and part of the problem was how little they actually knew about the Zalkonians. His own gut had told him that they would be non-responsive. As the premier expert on Zalkonians he felt he was getting a feel for why this might be but he was still learning about them much the same as everyone else. :: Reinard: You’ll remember as well that the station were making communications attempts. They did not respond to any of our hails either. It’s quite easy to wonder if ‘one more’ would have helped and there’s always ‘one more’ but you have to draw the line somewhere. This is where understanding the species, their motivations and personalities can help. Of course the problem here is that no one in the Federation has much dealings with them. They are a very insular, xenophobic people but that in itself is telling. They probably feel we are too far beneath them to communicate with. They have no interest in getting along with or negotiating with us. You’ll remember when we encountered them at that station some time ago they communicated to us - but it was on their terms? Eerie: Yes, I remember. Command is very consuming, particularly in a combat situation, so many actions to be concerned with and about. I think a dedicated person to do comm traffic would of helped. Something I need to do a better job with hopefully next time. Each was important, but need to do better at it. Reinard: I’m glad that you learned a lot from it and importantly, I feel you made some responsible choices and got the ship and its crew through. Well done. Is command something you aspire to in the longer term? ::Eerie was relieved. It meant a lot to him to get the nod of approval and the feedback on his concerns.:: Eerie: Someday. I don’t think I am ready yet, still have things to learn, and one always needs to be learning. Something I always try to remember. ::Eerie knew that he was still not ready for any permanent command of a vessel, as much as it was one of his clear defined goals in his career.:: Eerie: oOSomeday, not today or this year. Someday.Oo Reinard: Then I have two pieces of advice for you. You’re already managing a department so you’re in a leadership role, you train your people and you make decisions and recommendations. Command is about doing all of those things but instead of just focussing on one department as aspect of managing a ship you’ve got the bigger picture to take care of. It’s going to be beneficial that you make yourself more aware of other departments work, concerns and how they fit into the bigger picture. The other thing is experience. We could arrange it such that you’ll have more opportunity to take control on the bridge. Maybe work a few gamma shifts and take the bridge when all the other senior officers are sleeping. It’d also give you a chance to interact more with some of the crew you don’t get to see as often. You’ll still have us there obviously in the event that anything pops up but it’s a step in the right direction. ::Eerie had always wanted to take the duty on the bridge for a shift, and while gamma shift was usually pretty quiet, he was privately thrilled at the opportunity. It would give him the opportunity to do and learn more.:: Eerie: Thank you sir. I would consider it an honor. I’m sure that it will be a good experience. ::Eerie voice didn’t change but his eyes got a lot wider.:: Reinard: Is there anything else you wanted to discuss regarding the last mission or anything else before we move on to discuss the rest of the security and tactical department? Eerie: No, It is good to see that you have gotten your hearing back.::Eerie had heard that a procedure had been successfully do to give almost complete hearing back to Reinard.:: ::With matters of the mission report for tactical and security sorted out and discussed as well as Eerie’s command aspirations it was time to move on to the next piece of official business needing their attention. :: Reinard: I had given up hope of it to be honest but thank you. I couldn’t be happier. It certainly gives you a deeper appreciation of things. Now, why not talk me through any disciplinary or performance problems you’ve come up against – or equally if someone is performing especially well. ::Eerie thought for a moment, and figured that is was a good time to broach the topic.:: Eerie: I would like to see some cross training on some of the officers. I knew that they did their best but emergencies never lend themselves to having the best personnel at some duty posts. On the plus side, I was impressed with Lt. Falcon. Her skills were impressive and did quite well. Reinard: Cross-training can be good but it’s not necessary for everyone to be cross trained. It’s better to have a tactical officer at the tactical station rather than someone who only works at it occasionally. Lt Falcon undoubtedly did well but I was asking about the officers in the tactical and security department. ::Eerie nodded his agreement.:: Eerie: Recruit Borr did well in engineering, and from the reports I have seen that Rascon did well on the station. I have checked with other reports from other personnel and they with that assessment. So I would recommend both of them. Reinard: Rascon did do very well. He has a very direct, no nonsense approach and he’s good at getting things done. He handled himself very well and i’ve been considering whether or not to recommend him for promotion. I’m also glad to hear that recruit Borr is doing well. ::Greir had to admit that he had been very impressed with Rscon and there was no doubt that he had done well and proven himself to be a real asset but had he done enough to earn a promotion to Lieutenant. He had been recently promoted to Lt JG and Greir didn’t believe in rushing people through the ranks. They needed time to gain experience as there was a lot more to being an officer than having a lot of text book knowledge. It was a hard call and one he was still debating. :: Eerie: What do you think about a promotion to full Lieutenant? His work habits and performance warrant it. He is handling the responsibilities of a Lieutenant and the reports make him a good candidate. . ::Eerie remembered his rise to Lieutenant, and decided that he could handle the responsibility. Also some officers grew well into higher rank, and his personality certainly didn’t lack for boldness.:: Reinard: He certainly does stand out from among other similar candidates but I wonder if perhaps he needs a bit more experience. I’ll give it some more thought and consider taking it to the captain for consideration. ::Eerie nodded. He always believed that officers needed strong positive feedback. He also liked to give recommendations for promotion. Giving credit for where credit was due.:: Eerie: Thanks. I don’t know if it will come a surprise to Rascon, he is certainly not very reserved.::Eerie said it extremely straight, wondering if Reinard would make any connection to the very reserved Eerie.:: Reinard: Well we’ll see, it’s not set in stone yet. The Captain may decide he needs more time to develop some of his weaker areas first. However, I think that about concludes things for this, unless there’s anything else? Eerie: No, I think that is about it. I was gratified to see that the slipstream drive worked properly. It presents a great number of possibilities. ::Eerie had already been working on the tactical possibilities and problems that the new drive proposed. However, its benefits certainly outweighed the negatives.:: ::Greir leaned back in his chair thinking about the possibilities. They could now reach places they’d never dreamt possible before.:: Reinard: If you could go anywhere with it, where would you go? ::Eerie paused for a moment, he really had never actually thought about it.:: Eerie: I don’t know. I have heard the badlands near the Cardassian border are spectacular, if not for being a a navigation nightmare. ::Greir knew people often said that about the sandbar around Duronis II as well. He wasn’t a pilot but he could field his way around it. The only unknown was whether he could get a ship or a pilot to follow what he needed to happen. :: Reinard: I’m sure it’s a piece of cake but it begs the question of what’s so spectacular? Eerie: The firestorms, at least that is one place to go and see. Of course a trip home would be nice. I would also like to show Lt. Calderan, my homeworld. Any place you would like to go? ::Eerie really couldn’t think of any other place. He had not been back home in almost 7 years since his acceptance into the academy. There were a few places he would like to avoid if at all possible. Eden for one, but he was pretty sure that Star Fleet had quarantined the entire region.:: Reinard: I’d like to visit the Betazoid home planet. I’d also like to find the largest area of unexplored space on the edge of the Federation and just head off to see what’s out there. I guess part of our role includes exploring the unknown, so i’m really lucky. ::The Brikar pondered that for a moment. He had always enjoyed first contact missions, but was usually content to go wherever the ship was going. Perhaps the Brikar weren’t the most adventurous of races. Perhaps that is why they had infrequently ventured past their own region of the Alpha quadrant.. Eerie: With the new drive it does offer a lot of opportunities. Reinard: ::Nodding in agreement:: It sure does. Shore leave offers a lot of opportunities too. I’m planning on doing a bit of training and upskilling between trying to relax. What about you? ::Eerie wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. He wasn’t even sure that if Greir knew about his relationship with Nia.::. Eerie: l have some work to do. Each one of our missions seems to produce more reports and new projects. I will be going over new procedures with the tactical staff about situations with the new drive system. ::He paused but added.::Spending some time with Nia, I mean, Lt. Calderan. :: Eerie had gone from formal mood, and slipped out of it for a instant when talking about Nia. He recovered quickly.:: Reinard: That’s great. It’s good to see you expanding your circle of friendships. Eerie: Yes we share a lot of interests together.::Eerie hesitated for a moment, but decided to broach the topic.:: I was thinking about seeing if it would be alright for her to move in formally in my quarters. I haven’t found anything in the regs about it. Are you aware of any restrictions? ::Eerie was trying to broach a personal concern, in a formal statement, he really didn’t know how to pose to question.:: ::Greir didn’t realise how close the two had become until he said that and as someone who was pursuing a serious relationship on the crew he could understand Eerie’s concerns. He was delighted for the both of them and hoped that it would work out well. Hopefully his own experience would help Eerie.:: Reinard: Yeah you wouldn’t find anything about it in the regs as relationships between crewmembers isn’t generally encouraged. Some captains take quite a firm stance on it too and i’ve known people to end up in a situation where they’ve had to choose between their career and their relationship. Fortunately Captain Herrera has a much more relaxed view on this. Eerie: Nia knows that my career is first, and she agrees that her career is first and foremost. But we do enjoy each others company, and we don’t get to see a lot of each other between our different shifts. ::Eerie was happy to hear that the Captain was relaxed on this topic, however, he would never go against the Captain on this topic or any topic for that matter. Eerie enjoyed following regulations and the traditions set by the fleet.:: Reinard: There isn’t going to be a problem with Calderan moving into your quarters if you’re both sure that’s what you want. Lt Chen has recently moved in with me. We’ve notified Ops that his room is now vacant and available for assignment should we receive any new crew. ::Eerie didn’t show any surprise, he was actually happy for Greir, he knew that Lt. Chen was a good officer. He wished only the best for both of them.:: Eerie::Nodding::Very good, I hope you will both be happy. Reinard: The thing to remember is that it might be easier moving in together than moving out. If things don’t work out and you want to reverse your decision there’s a chance there won’t be any free quarters any more. Ships don’t tend to fly around with an abundance of unused space so you have to be sure. How long have you been seeing each other? Eerie: Understood. Actually I think it will be good for me. It will get me out of the cabin a bit more socially. It is something we both really want, and we have been seeing each other for about 5 months now. But I want to make sure that the Major is fine with it. Professionally of course. ::Eerie wanted to make sure that there wasn’t any problems for Scania. Being a Marine officer had different responsibilities that being a line officer in the fleet.:: Reinard: If it makes you feel better then by all means talk to him about it. Is there anything else I can help you with today Commander? Eerie: No. that seems to be everything on for me, Commander. ::Eerie was very pleased the conversation. He would be working some shifts, and he how had formal approval for Nia to move in, making sure that he talked with the Major.:: Reinard: In that case I’ll let you carry on about your day. Goodbye for now Eerie. Eerie: Thank you Greir, It has been nice. ::Eerie stiffened a bit. He couldn’t do something formal, when leaving a superior officer. He bowed slightly.:: ::Greir nodded smartly to Eerie and let him get back to it. There were various other things he had planned for today and he was in the mood to crack on and make a big dent in the to-do list.:: A JP by: Cmdr Reinard First Officer USS Vigilant NCC - 75515 and Lt. Cmdr. Eerie Chief Tactical/Security officer USS Vigilant NCC - 75515
  7. ((Vulcan, 239007.03)) ::Perhaps, being a doctor, she was simply more in tune with her body than the average being, but Velana knew she was pregnant before she even performed the necessary diganostic tests. When the results came back and the truth lay before her, the reality wasn't so much of a shock.:: ::The consequences of her actions were now growing inside her. It was time to face a very different future.:: ::Her sister-in-law stood in the doorway of the guest room which Velana had been occupying since her arrival on the planet. It hadn't been in her plan to confide in T'Sar about the possibility of the pregnancy, but there were only so many times one could lose their balance or nearly lose their breakfast before suspicions became logical. When T'Sar had confronted her, Velana had been unable to lie.:: ::Many years earlier, on the day Velana had given T'Sar the news that she was expecting her own child, their entire world had exploded. Although she doubted Vulcan itself was going to perish in the next few minutes, Velana still felt jumpy and unsettled as T'Sar stared at her, waiting to hear the results.:: Velana: Positive. ::She paused.:: I'm pregnant. ::There were a lot of questions T'Sar could have asked right then, but she lowered her chin in silent acknowledgment. Velana looked down at her flat belly, only looking up in time to catch T'Sar looking as well.:: Velana: You can ask. It's all right. T'Sar: ::after a moment:: You seem surprised by this, and yet...not. As if it is something you wanted and did not want at the same time. I am puzzled. Velana: ::whispering:: So am I. ::She drew in a breath and released it.:: Before I learned that Mother was ill, before I left my last ship, I was...involved with a man. Intimately involved. ::She hesitated.:: I loved him. I wanted to believe he loved me, too. T'Sar: He was not a Vulcan. Velana: No. ::Again, she hesitated.:: I started...reconditioning my body to be more...receptive to his DNA. Gene therapy. ::She looked into her sister-in-law's eyes.:: I wanted him to know that there was at least the possibility that we could have a family together. T'Sar: Then surely he will be pleased to hear that it worked. ::A shadow crossed Velana's face, followed by a wave of shame. Dropping her head, she looked down at her hands.:: Velana: When news of Mother's illness reached my ship, I just left. Isaac didn't follow. ::She lifted her shoulder.:: I gave him no reason to, I suppose. T'Sar: Perhaps this news will help you reconcile with him. Velana: It might have. ::Her cheeks burned.:: If the child was his. ::Unable to look at her sister's face, Velana rushed on.:: It happened on Earth. While Mother was in the hospital, I needed to get away. I went to a bar that I frequented when I was at the Academy. ::She stared at the floor without really seeing it.:: I never imagined he would be there. T'Sar: Who? ::A moment passed.:: Velana. Who? Velana: ::blinking:: I hadn't seen him in six years. But it was like...no time had passed at all. I wasn't even really surprised when I saw him across the room because... ::She smiled sadly.:: It was Cade. It was always Cade. T'Sar: Cade is not Vulcan? ::Under different circumstances, T'Sar's hope that Velana might have found a nice Vulcan male to have nice Vulcan children with might have annoyed Velana, or at the very least amused her.:: Velana: No. Cade is Human. ::She touched her belly.:: My baby is half-Human. ::Finally, she dared to look at T'Sar.:: The gene therapy worked. Only by the time it did, I wasn't with the right man. ::Velana closed her eyes, remembering that night in San Francisco. The way their eyes had met across the crowded bar, the way he'd remembered exactly what she liked to drink, the way his hand had covered hers so entirely...and the way it had felt to kiss him, to touch him, to be with him again.:: Velana: Or maybe...I was. Lt. Commander Velana Chief Medical Officer USS Vigilant
  8. ((Counselors office)) ::Gwinnett had an appointment with the new counselor. She was hoping that she might ‘bluff’ her way out of this after a few sessions. The run in with the Zalkonians had put on hold then her meetings with the Captain. She wasn’t particularly thrilled that she had been scheduled with a new meeting with another counselor or any counselor. She buzzed the office and entered. She was dressed in her normal fatigue uniform and boots. She had left her equipment in the marine lockers.:: Gwinnett:Sergeant Brooks Gwinnett, reporting as ordered, Ensign.::Standing at a sheepish attention, as this was the ‘last’ place she wanted to be. She had seen the inside of the brig from time to time, but that was usually after one of her all night benders, and that would've been better...:: ::Jansen had stood as the door chimed and couldn't possibly understand why so many people stood at attention around him in this office. He was a counselor for Pete's sake...:: Orrey: At ease. Please take your pick of seating. ::He had shifted the room slightly to provide more options with a large section of one corner covered by comfortable pillows, a pair of chairs sitting beside a table elsewhere in the room and a large comfortable couch in another spot.:: ::She put her arms behind her, and then walked over to one of the chairs and sat down. She then put her hands in her lap. She had been flying the straight and narrow of late, and she was itching to let her hair down, but she knew that every move she was making would be under close scrutiny.:: ::Jansen moved to the seating she chose and settled in some.:: Gwinnett: I hope we aren’t going to look at any ink blots.::With a trace of sarcasm.:: Orrey: ::snapping his fingers he shakes his head with a quiet smile:: No not since you ruined the surprise. ::Gwinnett groaned. First she had to look at those pictures of Andorians and now she was going to look at ink stains.:: Gwinnett: If we must, but if anything is evil looking, I might stab at it.::Half seriously.:: Orrey: I'm Jansen Orrey by the way. ::he extended his hand slightly.:: and what brings you here? ::Gwinnett took his hand and gave it a firm handshake. She had learned the custom from earthers, and it seemed like an okay greeting. Someone once had told her it was to show that you didn’t have a weapon in one’s hand. But she had heard a lot of strange things.:: Gwinnett: I am told that I have a problem with Andorians, which I have never liked. Frankly you could ship the lot of them out, and yes I know what I did wrong. And I am sorry for that.::Her tone had changed to a bit more serious, that last part of the statement seems almost like an afterthought.:: :: Jansen immediately thought of his dinner the previous night of Andorian red bat and nodded slightly as he recalled his recent stint of time on the Andorian home world trying to fix his own problems.:: Orrey: Why is it that you've never liked Andorians? Gwinnett: Something about the way they look, it gives me the shivers.::Trying to mentally blot the image out her mind. She had tried and for the most part blocked the real reason, but she also suspected it went back to her time as young girl and crazy which had captured her, but she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. She had never knew what had happened in the cave after she blacked out mentally and physically. Anyways, she was embarrassed by the incident, and always avoided her younger years as any topic of discussion.:: Orrey: Interesting. ::Jansen settled for a brief moment considering the next way to proceed.:: Orrey: And Just Andorians do it? Gwinnett: Just andorians? Of course crazies, but they are mutants, you only find them on the homeworld, Byzatium. Nasty place. Frakin... Omunics.. creating those nasty mutations. ::Her voice dripping with disgust.:: Orrey: Okay why is that? Gwinnett: I don’t know. ::Uncaring, like she was some counselor looking into her own soul.:: ::Jansen nods some an idle thought of what they were really doing to the marines around here crossing his mind.:: Orrey: I'd like to help you with this. But part of it is you wanting to get better you know. Gwinnett: Alright. her is the very short version. Life on Byzatium is hard, that is why the smart ones leave. Do you think I should of stayed?::Defensively:: Orrey: No I'm not saying that. But if you can become more comfortable with Andorians it will open up worlds of new things for you. Gwinnett: I guess. ::She could never see herself working with one, except under the most extreme circumstances. She would have to control herself to dispatch with one of the those hideous antenne.:: Orrey: Well what happens if you are forced to work with one? Gwinnett: I guess under duress.::Turning away and not wanting think about it.:: Orrey: Or if you are advanced in your career and put in charge of them. ::She laughed. She had never been put in charge of anything, and she would be frankly worried if she would be placed in charge of Andorians.:: Gwinnett: You gotta be kiddin, I am lucky that I have sergeant's stripes. Me in charge of a detachment? That is a laugh. ::She paused for a moment.:: Look, I will be amazed if I make to fifty, which is old age for a any dorfman. We live life to the fullest each day, as most of us don’t expect to see the next. ::Jansen shifted slightly he had easily found the nerve he was looking for. Now what if we poke it slightly.:: Orrey: So you would find yourself adversed to working with Chen? ::Gwinnett wasn’t sure of the newbie counselor had heard, that she didn’t like Andorians.:: Gwinnett: He wouldn’t be my first choice, Probably the last choice, even missy deBarres would be better. She does have any rotating appendages out of her head, last I checked. ::Gwinnett was now firing from the hip, and really didn’t care. But she had just given away a clue, even if she didn’t know it.:: Orrey: Tell me more about life on your home world. Gwinnett: The less say about it the better. Father was a doctor. Killed. Never remembered my mother. My brother is still a para regular in a milita. Stupid. I expect him to be dead one of these days. I was lucky, I wised up, and got frakin out of the pile. ::Jansen was purposefully skewing his questions to multiple fronts in hopes of finding another opening in further beyond the shield that all the marines seem to have up.:: Orrey: Interesting. oO rotating appendages huh? Oo So how do you feel about Vulcans? Gwinnett: What about them? Other than that cool logic, and acting superior to everyone. I don’t have a problem with them. ::Shugging her shoulders.:: Orrey: I thought you might have a more favorable opinion of them considering the former hostilities between Vulcans and Andorians. Gwinnett: Not really, just don’t like Andorians. Orrey: Do you like mountain climbing? ::Brooks thought it an odd question, but it was easy and run of the mill type.:: Gwinnett: Never tried it for recreation. Not that I haven’t scaled some hills, not a good combat environment particularly if you are going up. Anyways, I tend to find ‘liquid refreshment’ for my recreation. Among other things. Orrey: Ever done combat training in the snow? Or desert? Gwinnett: The corp does almost every type of environment. Of course, being a medic I usually have one of the heavier packs.::Showing just a bit of pride.:: Orrey: What about Zero G? Gwinnett: Yea, I always get nausea. At least I don’t barf in the helmet. Orrey: ::with a small chuckle given:: Always a plus in one of those suits...::Jansen snapped the focus back to her problem.::...so what is it about the Andorians antennae that bother you? ::Gwinnett wasn't paying much attention and before she could clam up it came out.:: Gwinnett: Darn antenna. Would be so bad if they were stationary.::There was resentment in her voice, but also a bit of nervousness.:: :: Gwinnett decided that she wasn’t going to go there, into that deepest of corner of her mind. It was just too painful. She fidgeted a bit in her chair. Then settling back in the seat..:: Gwinnett: Well, I just don’t like Andorians. We just need to figure out how I can work with them, right? :: Trying to move the goal to something that she might be able be more palpable.:: Orrey: Absolutely. That is our primary goal. My over arching goal would be to make it where you can judge them as individuals rather than on a racial level. Gwinnett: Good. ::Still a bit off of her game plan. She decided that this counselor wasn’t as green as he looked.:: Orrey: If you'd like I have a thought we could try on one of the holodecks on station. It would give us more time and an easier way to unwind after words without time restrictions like we have here on ship Gwinnett: Alright. What do you have in mind? ::Hoping it wasn’t life sized ink blots.:: Orrey: ::Jansen templed his fingers in front of his face for a moment. After a second he nodded sitting up.:: I have a few thoughts, can you meet me on station tomorrow afternoon and we can go from there? Gwinnett: I guess. ::Gwinnett knew that powers that be, would be keeping an eye on her compliance with counseling, and during shore leave she didn’t have any excuses. :: Orrey: Alright thank you. ::Jansen did have some wonderful ideas, but he had to speak to someone else first....:: ((Outside Holodeck 9 - Deep Space Six)) ::Jansen stood outside of Holodeck number 9 and waited patiently the day before brought about many meetings and changes. The most pressing on his mind was the one he was continuing right now. He had spent quite a bit of time researching and preparing the program he was about to run and hopefully gain a bit more ground with Brooks. Her problems were deep and home related but he chose to start with something distinctly human. A new day and a new approach as they say.:: ::Gwinnett was surprised that the counselor wanted to meet off the ship that she didn’t mind too much. She really didn’t want to be seen with him anyways and this was going to work out. It was just probably giant ink spots that she had to tell him about, so she really didn’t care. She arrived on time to make sure she got out of their on time. She saw the counselor. :: Gwinnett: Morning Sir. Orrey: Good Morning, Sergeant. Gwinnett: Are we ready to get this get over with? ::Looking at the door, and then back at the counselor.:: ::Jansen nodded some and opened the door and they stepped into a jungle scene.:: Orrey: Earth has a very diverse history did you know that? Gwinnett:: I read that somewhere. Glad they got their act together.::Looking around at the wild environment. Orrey: Oh yes. A long history with much to offer the concentrated learner. My mother was from earth before she became a teacher on Starbases. Gwinnett: Interesting.:oOI guess.Oo ::Jansen led them to a small campsite with some logs around a fire as well as a few knives and things scattered around what would be on any planet a hunting camp.:: Orrey: I learned many things from her. ::Brooks decided that the counselor was trying to make a point. Gwinnett decided that she would find out where he was leading them to if anywhere. Gwinnett:: Never knew my mother. My father said she left about the age of 2. He never wanted to talk about her, but family relations on the homeworld were usually those you had around you. Transient in a lot of cases, you never got too close to people.::Which was true for the most part. She had been lucky to know her father and brother for a good part of her life. She had stuck around for a few years after the death of her father, but finally decided to leave, and never look back.:: Orrey: ::Jansen nodded as the rolling mass of a large anaconda slide down the tree behind the marine and started for her. The test was getting interesting.the snake wasn't going to hurt her just pass by at a few feet.:: I understand that about your home now yes. Gwinnett: If this is a combat test, I don’t have a problem with that.:: Watching the snake slitter by her.::Gwinnett could conjure up any number of things as she watched the snake. Not liking them much.:: Orrey: ::He shook his head.:: Combat isn't going to help you learn how to suppress violence is it? ::Gwinnett had grown up in a violence society, if one called what her upbring a society. Shielded from it for the first few years of her life, she became almost numb to the constant death and violence, that surrounded her.:: Gwinnett: It is what I learned from an early age. I was lucky in a lot of respects, I got out of there. Best thing I have or will have ever done.::Watching the snake retreat.:: :: Jansen counted off tempo in his head. He had the program planned to a beat all his own.:: oO One two three....one two three. Oo ::The snake stopped and began to focus more on the local area flicking it's tongue before changing direction and crawling toward the councilors log first, crawling across his feet before looping around the fire and starting for the marine.:: Gwinnett: Nasty things.:: She moved slightly, then realized that it was only a holograhic image.:: Orrey: From what I've learned lately you were very lucky yes. ::Jansen watched her mind reassertion itself. It was only a hologram, but he wondered how long that would hold out against his programming. He had a line to approach and push, he had to be extremely careful not to go over it.:: ::Gwinnett watched as the snake started back at her and she moved her leg back, wondering if this was a test. Either way she didn’t like it as the snake appeared that it wanted to climb up her leg.:: ::The snake writhed and slithered to Gwinnett and regarded her leg for a moment before starting an attempt to slither across her feet as well, doubling back again before starting up her leg, or attempting to, as if she were a tree. ::A flash of panic spread on her face, and then she grabbed it just below the head and pulled it off and tossed the snake away. Her breathing had increased and a she could feel a cold sweat on the back of her neck.:: Gwinnett:: Don’t you bother little girls.::She had forgotten completely about counselor, and then she realized he was standing there.:: Orrey:: ::Jansen for his part did nothing but observed. After she tossed the snake he nodded slightly and, with his internal count clicking away the scene changed to a verdant green plain with them standing at the mouth of a cave.:: This time you may want to arm yourself. Ancient Greece was a dangerous place, especially with the safeties off. ::Truthfully the safeties were still intact but this would make part two interesting given what she had just revealed.:: Gwinnett:Computer, Give me Klingon Bat’leth, make it 5 percent smaller than standard size.::Gwinnett had handled them from time to time, and while she could handle the standard size, she preferred one just a bit smaller.::The computer instantly made one as it materiziled on the ground. She picked it up.:: ::Jansen lifted a spear from its place beside the cave and handed it to her as he himself took up a short sword. When she chose a more modern weapon he shrugged softly and laid the spear back in place.:: Orrey: After you.. ::Gwinnett didn’t like caves, the reminded her way too much of the experience on the homeworld with the crazy. She was starting to think that the counselor had done his homework. In fact, he had done it way too well. She steeled herself, she wasn’t going to have some freakin counselor get the best of her.::oO&^% counselor. Probably a tribble in there.Oo::She snorted.::oOThe great tribble hunt!Oo Gwinnett: Alright. Anything you can dish out. I can handle.::Trying to be boastful.:: ::She started in the cave, there wasn’t a lot of room, so she had to duck a bit. There seemed to be some light up ahead as the exterior lighting faded quickly. She was now moving slowly trying to feel around. The cave started to angle down a bit, and the ambient temperature seemed to cool a few degrees. She started to use the edge of the weapon to find the top of the ceiling, hoping there wasn’t anything to hit her in the top of the head. The light was growing stronger as the seemed to come into a large part of the cave. There was a torch burning, but it wasn’t regular. Some breeze in the cave forced the lighting brighten than dim, only to grow strong one again.:: ::Jansen nose twitched his own medical condition flaring as his muscles tensed and his own mind fogged for a moment before he could clear it.:: Gwinnett: How far do you want me to go, I am guessing there is a reason for all stuff? ::She was trying to be strong, but internally she was a bit nervous.:: Orrey: oO Easy Jansen. Deal here. Stay now. Oo There is a reason for everything, yes. is? ::She stopped in the center of the large room not too far from the torch that was sticking in the wall.::the large chamber they entered was covered in statuary. All manner of being Human, Vulcan, Andorian, even Tellerites and Klingons were frozen in positions of fear, faces twisted in a rictus of terror and silent screams. In some places there were shattered stones and bone piles. The far end of the room had an opening smaller then the one they came out of.:: ::Gwinnett turned around to see the frightful statues of various humanoids. Cold sweat started to pour down her back as she saw the Andorian as the light flickered almost giving it a real life quality to it. The she saw something start to move in a darker shadow that was moving directly towards her. She raised her weapon in the ready position. She had a death grip on the weapon.:: ::The first thing she saw was some tentacles that appeared out of the darkness. Or at least that is what she saw. Her mental state had be shifted back to her as a preteen. She attempted one wild swing, but the grip on her weapon failed as she was transformed into that scared child. The bat’leth fell to the floor clanging on the stone.:: ::She turned to run, but except for the darkness she was totally disoriented.:: Gwinnett: Father. ::It was plea.:: ::Jansen dropped his sword and wrapped Gwinnett in a light but protective hug standing silently and holding her safely against the darkness waiting to see if she had completely slipped or if she would say more.:: Gwinnett::Make it stop!, keep those things away from me.::She could feel the appendages started to probe her body, a least mentally.:: Orrey:::Jansen nodded some and kept her close.:: Computer end program. ::Jansen kept his arms around her and held on a moment more.:: Its alright. They’re gone. ::Gwinnett hovered for a moment, she had shut her eyes, it took her a moment to realize that warm arms were holding her and she looked up to see the counselor. She looked around to see the normal pattern of the holodeck. She now tried to shake off his embrace. Recovering quickly :: ::Jansen let go of her simply prepared for her defense.:: Gwinnett: I’m fine...frakin crazies.::Breaking free and backing away from the counselor.:: She paused for a moment , looking away. Then she turned back around to see him. Gwinnett: So you know my dirty little secret. ::Shamefully and with a bit of spite.:: Orrey: It is a secret that is safe with me. I’d still like the chance to help you with it. ::Jansen smiled lightly as he continued.:: We all have secrets. Not everyone has free and willing help to deal with them so they aren’t secrets anymore. Gwinnett: I guess you want to know the rest of it. :;Her tone was cold, but in a low tone of voice.:: Orrey: If you want to talk about it right now. Then yes. If you would rather come back to talk to me another time. I’ll gladly wait until you are ready. ::Jansen matched her coldness with his own warmth and understanding.:: Gwinnett::Computer, beach scene, some ocean ...rolling waves. ::The holodeck was transformed into a beach with a gentle rolling waves coming up from the surf. She moved out to the edge, watching the waves.:: Gwinnett: I was about 12 years old, I was mad at my father so I ran away, into no mans land. I must of tripped on something and passed out. Next thing I know it was dark and I was in a porrly lit cave. There was this thing....::Shuttering a bit.:: A crazy with this wild tentacles out of its head, reaching for me. I must of passed out. I remember something going over my body. ::She turned towards him.::That is all I remember. I must of passed out or blacked out, or I don’t know.::She let the sounds of the waves wash over her.:: ::Jansen nodded some as he listened. He could only imagine from his talk with the Major about life for the young on the homeworld he and Brooks shared. He moved up beside her and spoke softly enough that the waves nearly drowned him out.:: Orrey: As a Marine I assume you’ve been called a lot of things, yes? Gwinnett::Laughing dryly at herself. Gwinnett had been called every name in the book. Some of them justified, other not so much.::Yep. Some of them true. I am not a very nice person sometimes. I have been known to take and use. But I am a good soldier and a better medic. Who was it in earth history? Some dude, named Patton. Break glass only in time of war. Orrey: ::Jansen smiled some.:: Im going to call you something then and even if I’m not wearing this collar its true. ::He turned to face her.:: A friend. I’ll help you with this as much as you want. ::Even if she had not been turned inside out, she was still shocked. Gwinnett had lot of buddies in the marines, but she didn’t have any real friends among the fleeters.:: Gwinnett: Ensign, I understand the gesture, but I have a tendency using people, sometimes I make a horrible friend. Just get some drinks in me, you probably will not like what you see. ::Gwinnett had a basic rule for her life, train hard, and party harder. It barely kept her in the uniform.:: Orrey:: ::With a Shrug he turned away from the water.:: I’ve said it and I’ll keep to it. It’s up to you. Gwinnett.: You better.::She paused for a moment and then turned to Orrey.::You know I really don’t personally dislike Lieutenant Chen. ::Starting to realize for a instant that it was her upbring and her torturer that was causing some of these feelings.:: Orrey: I told you. We will work through it together and fix the feelings and problems you have so things will improve. It won’t be easy and it won’t be short but it will happen. Gwinnett: I will try. Can’t promise anything. ::Getting some of her bravado back.::What should be the first thing? An apology? ::Shugging her shoulders just a bit.:: Orrey: ::With a short nod.:: It would be the best place to start. JP Ensign Jansen Orrey Counselor USS Vigilant & (PNPC) Sgt. Brooks Gwinnett Combat Medic Marine USS Vigilant simmed by Eerie
  9. ((DS 285)) ::In her white dress uniform and the hover-stroller in tow, Tracey exited the airlock and found herself on the station with her adoptive child. With the station bustling with activity, Tracey stopped for a moment to get her bearings, for she had never been to this station in all her career. It was at that moment she overheard a couple of people talking about the upcoming memorial. Tracey made her way towards them and politely interrupted their conversation.:: TOWNSON: Pardon me, but would you happen to know where the "atrium" is? ::As one of the two pointed out the directions for Tracey the other looked into the stroller.:: PERSON 2: Oh my, what a lovely...::noticing the child was Romulan:: child. ::looking up at Tracey:: Is it...yours? TOWNSON: ::without breaking the stare:: Yes he is. ::to the one who gave her directions:: Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me. ::And with that, Tracey quickly spun on her heels and vacated the area and left the two to gossip about something else entirely other than what they were gossiping about earlier.:: ::Once Tracey found the room she was to enter, she almost stopped at the doorway as old habits came flooding back into her psyche. To her, standard procedure was to have blood tests before entering any room with high ranking officers of the fleet to be certain one was not a changeling. But in this universe, the war was long over and so, coming back to reality, she just paused and then continued on into the room.:: ::Once inside, she couldn't help but notice the amount of people from all different backgrounds. As she made her way through the crowd, a woman and a man approached in hooded Vulcan robes and as the woman slowly lowered her hood, Tracey stopped dead in her tracks and her heart started beating in her chest frantically..:: CYNTHIA TOWNSON: ::almost a whisper:: Tracey. ::Tracey looked at the woman now standing in front of her, then up to Sorel, then back to her mother.:: TOWNSON: Mother. ::hoping the woman would not protest the use of the word:: My apologies. CYNTHIA TOWNSON: No apology necessary. It has been a long time. TOWNSON: ::looking towards the hover stroller then back to her mother:: I am happy to be out of the hospital on Earth. ::It was Sorel who spoke next as he too lowered his hood and revealed his Vulcan heritage in full.:: SOREL: We have been following your career from afar. TOWNSON: ::once again looking up to Sorel then back down to her mother:: I see. Then what brings you so close? CYNTHIA TOWNSON: We were led to believe the Discovery was lost. ::gesturing to the room a a whole:: Part of this was designed as a memorial service to those who were lost. TOWNSON: ::looking past her mother momentarily:: And your husband? CYNTHIA TOWNSON: Too ill to travel. It is the reason I came with Sorel. ::looking towards the stroller and changing the subject.:: You have a child. TOWNSON: ::following the older woman's gaze then looked back towards her.:: In a way. He is not mine by blood. He was discovered abandoned on Bilire IV. He is Romulan of origin. I felt obliged to take him into my care. CYNTHIA TOWNSON: ::leaning over the stroller to take a closer look and smiling slightly:: My...he is...what is his name? TOWNSON: Hvaid...named after an old...colleague. ((Time-Warp - City of Solius - Romulus - Otherverse - Years Ago)) TAL'AURA: Beautiful evening, isn't it? ::Tracey had just finished work at the office and she was sitting at an outdoor terrasse at a Romulan version of a cafe. All day, Tracey had seen the sunlight beat in through her office window, and she knew that after her day of work, she wanted to relax. The Romulan Cafe was just on the ground level of the offices she worked at. Tracey was sitting, enjoying the setting sun of this alien planet as the Romulan soldiers patrolled the streets. This was a bustling, military city, where 90 percent of the soldiers were Romulan. The other 10 percent was made up of a mix of different alien species, with her being one of them. Humans who were assigned to Romulus were dispersed all over the planet. Since her arrival, Tracey only counted a handful of humans assigned to the city of Solius. And only about three times that amount who were members of starfleet.:: ::Looking up from her PADD, Tracey squinted through the setting sun over the man's back. Placing her hand over her brow to protect her eyes, Tracey looked up and smiled.:: TOWNSON: Why yes it is. ::gesturing towards a seat opposite from her:: Would you care to join me, Commander? TAL'AURA: Why thank you Cadet. ::pulling out the chair and sitting down:: ::Tal'Aura ordered a drink and when it arrived, he took a sip.:: TAL'AURA: Still working I see. ::gesturing towards Tracey's PADD:: TOWNSON: Just studying, Commander. ::Tracey watched as the well-built Romulan sitting across from her took another sip. Tracey found him to be quite handsome, and if her situation would have been different, if Tracey was not with Jaxx, Tracey would have probably tried her luck. But She also knew it was completely inappropriate to think the way she did. But her loneliness of being away from her Betazoid boyfriend for so long, and the lack of any relationships in her environment, Tracey found herself to be flirting with her superior officer. To Tracey, it was as if there was an internal battle between her brain and her body. And up until today, her brain had won out. But all that was about to change.:: TAL'AURA: Very good, Cadet. I am very proud of your progress thus far. TOWNSON: Thank you, Commander. TAL'AURA: Please, Cadet. In there, ::referring to the office building they both worked in:: my name is Commander Tal'Aura. Out here, my name is Hvaid. ::smiling:: TOWNSON: ::placing her PADD on the table in front of her and looking at the Romulan with a mischievous smile:: Thats very unprofessional of you, Commander. TAL'AURA: ::feigning a broken heart by holding his hands to his chest:: My, my. Are you going to report me, Cadet? TOWNSON: ::smiling:: Only to say that you are one of the best teachers I've ever had. And only if you stop calling me Cadet. TAL'AURA: ::taking one last sip then putting his empty glass on the small round table.:: Then we have an agreement. We call each other by our first names. ::Tal'Aura looked around the landscape of the city before returning his gaze on Tracey.:: TAL'AURA: Have you had the chance to tour this city, yet, Tracey? TOWNSON: ::nodding:: I took the primary tour upon arrival and I have walked around the center core near my place. Why do you ask? TAL'AURA: Well I know this city very well. My grandmother used to live here. I used to visit quite often as a child. I know places here the tour guides would never show you. TOWNSON: Is that so, Hvaid. TAL'AURA: Would you like me to show you? TOWNSON: ::smiling:: Yes. Since I've come to Romulus I find it all to be quite enchanting. I would very much like to see the rest of the city. ::And with that, the two stood up and left the little table at the cafe and walked. The two walked for hours throughout the evening, as soldiers wound past them at every turn. They went into various shops and tried different local treats. Tracey practiced her Romulan with each shop they'd enter and look around in. The two laughed and spoke the whole evening through, despite the ever present backdrop of the familiar war-zone they both lived in. Several hours later, the two found themselves on top of a mountain on the edge of the city, looking down at the city lights, while sitting on a bench.:: TOWNSON: Thats it! ::pointing to building in the distance:: TAL'AURA: No, no! Thats it! ::pointing to another building close to the one Tracey was pointing to:: I'll bet you dinner thats it. TOWNSON: No...Look at the markings on the roof. Thats our office building. TAL'AURA: Oh...yeah. I guess you are right. ::smiling and looking at Tracey.:: It looks like I owe you dinner. TOWNSON: ::looking up at Tal'Aura and smiling:: You sly individual. Yes you do. ::On the bench next to theirs, a young Romulan couple were embrasing one another.:: TAL'AURA: Young love. TOWNSON: ::looking towards the shadowed couple then back to the city lights:: Yes. TAL'AURA: How is Jaxx? TOWNSON: ::without averting her eyes from the lights below:: Far away. TAL'AURA: You miss him. ::Tracey just nodded.:: TOWNSON: I hate this war. TAL'AURA: Don't we all. It makes us all very lonely, and who knows what tomorrow brings. TOWNSON: ::turning to look at Tal'Aura:: Is there someone special in your life, Hvaid? TAL'AURA: ::shaking his head and looking down to the ground:: I have placed all my efforts into the military. I had no time for much else. I had to work hard to earn the rank of Commander at such a young age. Plus with the war...::trailing off:: TOWNSON: I know. ::The couple at the opposite bench stood up and walked away hand in hand as Tracey and Tal'Aura watched them leave. Tal'Aura turned to look at Tracey and their eyes locked for a minute. Tal'Aura gently took Tracey's hands in hers and Tracey didn't pull back. She knew what would happen next, and for the first time in years, Tracey allowed her body to overrun what was going on in her head. Tracey took a deep breath, and the two embraced.:: ((Later)) ::A light misty rain was coming down over the city of Solius, as Tracey an Tal'Aura were walking down a laneway, hand in hand, leading to Tracey's temporary home. When they arrived, the two stopped.:: TOWNSON: Thank you...for a wonderful evening Hvaid. TAL'AURA: And thank you too, Tracey. ::pause:: Back to work tomorrow. Townson: Yes. Back to work tomorrow. ::The two kissed one last time, and then Tal'Aura started walking away. Tracey watched as the man became a shadow under the lights and then a message came through her PADD that drew her attention. Tracey quickly scanned the message which said she was being recalled from Romulus in the morning. Tracey looked up at the retreating Tal'Aura in the distance and opened her mouth to shout something. But before she did, she closed it and watched the man disappear into the night of this alien city. Tracey never saw Commander Tal'Aura again.:: ((Present - Atrium - DS 285)) SOREL: ::looking over at the two women near the stroller:: There is an odd serenity emanating from the child. TOWNSON: ::looking up at the Vulcan:: Your empathic skills are still sharp, Mr. Sorel. The child's emotional centers are not connected to his brain. SOREL: Fascinating. Have you considered getting assistance from anyone? TOWNSON: ::nodding:: Both the Romulan and Vulcan hierarchy want nothing to do with the child. I fear I am on my own. CYNTHIA TOWNSON: ::standing back straight up and looking at Tracey:: Should you need any...help... TOWNSON: Thank you. ::after a moment of awkward silence:: Keep the faith that one day she will return to you. SOREL: Faith? TOWNSON: ::turning to Sorel:: Something unheard of in your philosophy, but something real to us humans. ::to her mother:: I came to terms with the death of you and father years ago when I buried the two of you on the plains of Ishmatel on Orelian II, in a universe that now only exists here. ::pointing to her head:: It is as if you are a ghost to me. I couldn't bear dealing with that pain and sorrow again, for once is more than enough. CYNTHIA TOWNSON: Of that I am well aware of child, but...my husband...your father would like to see you one last time. ::Tracey looked down in thought then over to the stroller before returning her yellow eyed gaze back towards the one who resembled her mother.:: TOWNSON: As duty calls, my ability to get to Earth is limited. But I promise, when I am there next, you can count on my visit.... In the meantime...there is something I wish to give to you. Something to keep the memory of your daughter alive. ::tapping her com-badge:: =/\= Townson to Discovery. lock onto the contents of the closet in my quarters and transport to my location, except for the black dress, shoes and any uniform. =/\= ::In seconds, the shimmering of the transporter left a bag with contents next to the trio. A pair of downhill skis and poles were visible protruding out of the bag.:: TOWNSON: ::gesturing towards the bag:: These were hers. I think...I think she'd want you to have them. And if it makes you feel any better, I never opened that bag. ::As tears started to flow in the older woman's eyes, she went over to the bag. Looked at the skis then dropped to her knees and held the bag in her arms. She then turned to Tracey.:: CYNTHIA TOWNSON: Thank you. I...I thought there was nothing left. I now know how you feel Tracey. Today taught me that losing someone once is hard. Losing them twice is gut-wrenching. ::standing back up and moving towards Tracey, she held out her arms and Tracey fell into them and the older woman whispered:: You too will always be my daughter and I am proud. ::The two just remained in each others arms, and with fellow StarFleet officers all around her, she held back her tears as she was so well trained to do from her universe of origin, but she swallowed hard and whispered back in her mother's ear.:: TOWNSON: I love you, and tell father the same. CYNTHIA TOWNSON: I will. ::The two let go of each other and Tracey stepped back.:: CYNTHIA TOWNSON: Safe travels, Tracey. TOWNSON: You too, mother. ::Tracey then turned towards the Vulcan and looked up and gave the man the Vulcan "V" greeting using her right prosthetic hand.:: TOWNSON: Peace and long life. ::Sorel did the same.:: SOREL: Live long and prosper, Commander. ::And with that, the Vulcan picked up the bag and Tracey watched as the two departed as she held tightly onto the stroller in front of her.:: -Fin- Lt. Commander Tracey Townson Chief of Operations USS Discovery-C
  10. ((Senior Officer's Quarters, USS Columbia)) ::After spending a few hours with her nephew, Hsina took a quick trip over to the USS Columbia. There were a few workers from the star base on board, but for the most part it was just a minimal security contingent keeping the public off while the powers that be decided what to do with the relic. Hsina had not yet visited the ancient ship since the initial away mission prior to her trip to Kjenta II, and as an archaeologist and historian she simply couldn¹t resist taking another look around. Her first stop were the senior officers¹ quarters. Dr. Treng¹s quarters had already been scoured before the descent to Kjenta II when Hsina was looking for clues regarding the mysterious antenna, but Hsina had not taken the time to try and figure out who exactly Lan-Ngoc Treng was as a person. The more Hsina looked, the more she admired the person who became the madwoman on Kjenta II. That Treng was a brilliant scientist was without question, but Hsina found in her diaries and logs that she also had a passion for helping the poor, which was still a problem on mid 22nd century earth. While the transporter was Treng¹s most famous invention, the one the scientist was personally the most proud of was a compact, low cost water purification system that used sunlight common aluminum as a catalyst and could purify over one thousand gallons per gram of aluminum, with no toxic waste. It was a simple and elegant system that Hsina found out was still in use throughout the federation today. Treng wasn¹t the only overachiever on Columbia¹s crew. Commodore Moretti, in addition to being a famous explorer and career officer, was also a fairly famous painter in his day. A simple check of his published paintings revealed that one of his works remained on display in the entrance to Starfleet Academy, a painting of the signing of the Federation charter, which Moretti was a personal witness to. The list went on and on. Every room she visited, Hsina got a sense of the people who had once lived, served, and in most cases died here. Lieutenant Klein¹s room filled with pictures of her daughter, Ensign Marquez¹ room filled with beer-making equipment, and Commander Lennon¹s room with a collection of medieval manuscripts that would make a small museum proud. Each one a story. Hsina¹s entire life had been spent uncovering the stories of people long dead, but somehow this was different. Except for Moretti she hadn¹t met any of the dead, but she had met some of their shipmates and had conflicted feelings about them and their plight. The marine, Pavlova, was someone that Hsina could actually relate to. Tough and pragmatic, Hsina admired the way the marine handled herself on Kjenta II after being betrayed by her shipmates. Again it made Hsina think back to her first mission on Discovery when she had moved against Captain Waltas to try and prevent him from firing on a Romulan colony. It was amazing how far she had come in such a short time, to the point where she would fight and if necessary die to protect that same Captain and his crew today. In the marine¹s room Hsina found a small mahogany box, and inside the box an ancient firearm in well-maintained condition, along iwht a faded black-and-white photograph of a World War Two Russian officer shaking hands with a Nazi Officer as the latter handed the former the same box. An ancestor¹s spoil of war, and one that Hsina would make sure was returned to the marine before she left DS 285. Her exploration complete, for now, Hsina returned to the large hall for the ceremony that was due to start about 30 minutes later. She would give the marine her momento, and then link back up with her shipmates. Shipmates? When had she started to think of those people with such closeness? By all of the standards that she had lived by, many of them were people she simply should not care about, and yet somehow, she did. They were caring, emotional and sensitive, all qualities that Hsina had long despised, thought of as weak and feeble. Yet somehow, she had come to care for each of them. She thought of Commodore Moretti and his painting, then of her sister Samira, how had killed herself after their mother¹s death. Samira had also been a painter, but by the time Samira died at age 19 Hsina, then 13, was already hardened and cold. Hsina hadn¹t cried since she was six-years-old, so when a tear slid down her cheek as she walked out of the marine¹s room, for a moment she didn¹t even know what it was. It was followed by another, and another, causing Hsina to stop, turn around and go back into the room she had just left. She just stood there for a few minutes until the water stopped flowing, wiped her face dry and then took a look into the mirror.:: AMMAN: And who will cry for you, when the time comes? ::She just stood there for a while and looked at her reflection. Without another thought she then suddenly turned away, put her demons back in their closet and walked out of the room.:: Lieutenant Hsina Amman Chief of Security, USS Discovery-C
  11. ((Backsim)) ((USS Discovery-C, Security Office)) ::The young security officer sat in front of the console. With a soft movement of her hand, she banned a rebellious curl of her obsidian-coloured hair behind her left ear. Now that the Discovery was about to dock, she had managed to set up a plan to ensure security. Even in the case of shoreleave, a minimum contingent of security officers was required to remain on duty, while most of the crew could enjoy the pleasures of some time off duty. Now as the temporary executive of the new Chief of Security, she had thought she would organize that in advance – probably one of the last acts as her exec, as the return to the Starbase not meant repairs for the ship, but also replacement of the crew and there would almost certainly be a more experienced security officer who would take over that position. After all, she was still fresh out of the Academy and had just finished her first mission as an Ensign. A last glance over the duty schedule and then she sent the plan to Lieutenant Amman.:: ::Vanessa leaned back and nodded contentedly. There was a bit of time left, before the ship would actually be docked and the crew could head on over to the Starbase, so she checked the latest news that had come in. The conversation with Saxena, her Trill roommate had stirred up a sad and unsettling thought that the Discovery and all her crew must have been declared missing. And that would mean that all the families had most likely been informed , which was almost the same as declaring them dead.:: ::Since then, pictures of the scene ran constantly through her mind – her mum, dad and her brother back on the colony world Toral IV receiving the information. Not knowing that she was actually alive and well, the idea of them mourning for her was almost unbearable. Especially the thought of her beloved brother almost broke her heart.:: DRISCOLL: ::whispering to herself:: So it’s true… they planned a memorial service. ::She quickly skimmed the short report from the Starbase about the service in commemoration of the Discovery. As she read that not only Starfleet personnel, but also many relatives of the allegedly dead crew had arrived at the station, her heart started racing.:: DRISCOLL: oO My family… what if they are here on the Starbase! Oo ::She was absolutely sure that her mum and dad and especially her brother would have travelled to the Starbase for that, if they had been informed about it. Toral IV was not too far away and with a shuttle they could have arrived here within a short period of time.:: ::Excited about the prospect of seeing her brother again, she checked the lists of all the persons who had arrived at the Starbase as well as the lists of people who were already staying on the Starbase for some time. She double and triple checked the lists, but none showed the name of her family or at least one family member. It took a while, but when she was absolutely sure that she hadn’t just skipped the name, she fell back into the chair and stared at the ceiling.:: DRISCOLL: oO What if they didn’t get the information about the memorial. Oo ::So she checked again whether the families had been informed and found a little report that the families had been informed. There would have been enough time for her family to come to the memorial.:: ::Her head braced on her hand, she starred at the console. Vanessa couldn’t understand it. What could be the reason for her family not being here on the station. The young woman couldn’t just think of any reason why they couldn’t have come, unless they had been forgotten to be informed by some sort of mistake.:: ::As she tried to make up an explanation in her mind, she suddenly noticed a little blinking number at the padd, showing her that she had received an unread message. Knitting her brow she opened the message and stared at the sender with wide eyes. The message was from her brother. As soon as the Discovery had established contact with the station, the messages which had been sent to them at the time when their comm was down, were delivered. Checking on the date she saw that it had been sent only a few hours ago – at a time, when nobody here had known that the Discovery-C was on its way back and the crew was alive.:: ::With a shaking hand she opened the message and read a message her brother had sent to his sister, believing that she was lost somewhere out the in the black vastness of space.:: MICHEAL DRISCOLL (message): :: As she opened the message, she realized that it was an audio recording and heard her brother’s voice:: Hello my dear Vany! I’d never thought that I would have to send a message like that. A message that I send out, not knowing where you are, what happened and whether you are… you will ever be able to read it. Some weeks ago, we received the message – and I could not believe it. I was out helping Dad on the fields when Mum came out to the farmyard. She was just standing there, her whole body shaking… and I knew. I instantly knew… It sounds sort of strange, but when I saw her standing there, the tears rolling down her cheeks, I knew that you … ::pause:: I ran back to the house to our mum and she just locked her arms around me, whispering in my ear that you were dead. Dad also came back to the farmyard, he only remained standing a few metres away. It is really hard to bring back the images of that day. It is hard for me to think back to that moment and still be strong enough to write those lines … to you. Dad just thinks that this is nonsense. Sometimes I really would like to… ::pausing, Michael took a deep breath:: but this is not about my anger today. This is… my way of saying farewell to you. It sounds strange, but do you remember us sitting out there just outside the farm on clear summer nights when we were younger? We were both looking up at the sky with its endless number of sparkling stars. You sometimes said that you would like to travel to one of the stars pointing your fingers at one of those many sparkling dots. I always loved those nights, when you told me your stories of what you would be finding there…. After the message arrived, I went out and looked at the stars and I somehow knew, that even if you… even if you are no longer there as the person I knew, you are still up there… somewhere. And I decided to send you this message. Today we received the information that Starfleet plans a memorial service at the Starbase, but… Dad wouldn’t agree to go there. It would just be a journey of a couple of hours… ::a deep sigh interrupting the audio transmission:: Over the last years, he turned into a cold-hearted, emotionless man – even more after you had left us to go back to earth. ::Her brother’s voice sounding both hard and sad at the same time:: Mother and I tried to convince him first, I shouted at him and told him, he could go to hell and I would go on my own, but he just wouldn’t change his mind. :: A loud bang could be heard as if something hard hit the table:: I really didn’t know what to do. Of course, I could just have travelled there on my own, but… Mum got desperate, but he wouldn’t let her go and I just couldn’t leave her alone at home with him in her condition. So…. This is my way to say farewell to you, my little Vany! And it’s even harder than I could ever have imagined. I will always keep you in my heart. I love you … wherever you may be now. And whenever I look at our sky at night, I… ::his voice getting thinner and breathy:: I will think of you. ::As Vanessa heard her brother’s voice, her tears started to flow. She was just sitting in the chair of the security office, not being able to say or do anything, but a soft and husky:: DRISCOLL: I love you, too. ::She logged out of the console. Without looking left nor right, she ran out of the office. She was happy that most of the crew were already preparing to leave the ship, so she didn’t really meet many crewmembers on her way back to her room.:: ========= Ensign Vanessa Driscoll Security Officer USS Discovery-C
  12. (( Courtroom, Deep Space 10 )) ::And here it came. Harry looked across at Telaan, mentally bracing himself. For all Damos had known he didn't want to be here and didn't want to cooperate with her prosecution, she had still provided him with a few sage words of wisdom. ::"Keep your answers short. Don't elaborate. Don't lose your temper," she had said. Advice to live by, perhaps.:: ::Gaareth took a deep, relaxing breath before standing. He needed to keep his temper under control. He needed to fight this fight like a Vulcan, not a Tellarite. His friend's career depended on it. Starfleet regulations supported Kells completely in this matter, but Damos had turned it into a witch hunt. She was considering Commander Ross an expert witness and, as such, attempting to use his opinion to destroy Aron's career. Well, two could play that game. Sparing one quick glance toward Aron, he turned his attention to Commander Ross as he approached the witness stand.:: TELAAN: Would you state your name and rank again for the record, please? ::Harry gave the lawyer an odd look, but complied readily.:: ROSS: Commander Harrison Ross. TELAAN: Commander, would you consider yourself a career officer? ROSS: Yes. TELAAN: ::looking down at the PADD in his hands:: Looking at your file, I see a list of commendations as long as my arm for courage above and beyond the call of duty. Citations of your cool head under pressure, and a near flawless understanding of Starfleet regulations. It's quite impressive. ::raising his eyes to Ross again:: You hope to have a ship of your own some day? ROSS: I do. TELAAN: Is it true, Commander, that one of the primary functions of a ship's Executive Officer is the preparation and issue of duty rosters? ROSS: It is. TELAAN: Could you explain to me, then, how it's possible that you might have been completely unaware of Dr. Saveron's disposition toward his required duties during the mission to 83 Leonis-II? Did you not read his file along with the rest of the crew upon your assignment to the Mercury? Starfleet personnel files do still include personality profiles, do they not? ROSS: I was aware of his disposition, he was quite vocal in the briefing. But he also accompanied me on an away team, and though he didn't like it, he did appear to accept the decision not to interfere. TELAAN: I see. Were you aware of Saveron's clearance levels aboard the Mercury? ROSS: I was aware of his major security clearances. But there are more than five hundred people on the Mercury, Starfleet and civilian; I don't remember the replicator privileges for them all. ::He almost said, "that's for Operations to manage", but he had no intention of throwing someone else under a bus. Truth be told, he'd simply assumed that Saveron would only have basic replicator rights, rather that his Starfleet privileges carrying over to his civilian posting.:: TELAAN: Interesting. ::glancing back down to the PADD:: You have been married twice, is that correct, Sir? And divorced as many times? DAMOS: Objection! Relevance? ::Damos was on her feet, fingertips resting lightly on the desk. She was quite placid, despite the force in her voice, there was something in her eyes that Harry didn't care for. ::Smug. She looked smug.:: TELAAN: Your Honour .. if I may be allowed to continue, I am merely attempting to ascertain the Commander's moral fortitude and credibility; something I believe to be quite relevant if he is being asked to condemn the actions of another officer in regards to the moral implications of the Prime Directive. SHYN: Objection overruled. You may continue, counsellor. ::Damos left it at that and sat back down, still occasionally taking notes on her PADD.:: TELAAN: So Commander… married and divorced twice. Is that correct? ::Harry flicked a look at Kells, taking a breath and struggling to keep his face neutral. He'd expected a few things, but not that he would be dragged over the coals regarding his personal life. He wondered if Kells' lawyer had gone so far as to contact Sveta and Mary about the divorces — as far as he knew, the official paperwork simply cited 'irreconcilable differences'. ::He hoped not. Mary had never quite forgiven him. He'd never quite forgiven himself, either.:: ROSS: Yes. TELAAN: How did your first marriage end, Commander? ::Damos was staring at him, and he could hear her voice in his head: "Don't elaborate. Don't lose your temper." He released a slow breath, and answered the question.:: ROSS: I issued divorce proceedings. TELAAN: And the second? ROSS: She issued divorce proceedings. TELAAN: Can you elaborate on the reasons for the court, Sir? ROSS: We had irreconcilable differences. TELAAN: Commander, you have been subpoenaed and ordered to cooperate with these proceedings. If you will not answer, I'm afraid that I will have to insist that your ex-wives be subpoenaed as well. ::A look of disgust crossed Harry's face as he looked at the lawyer. Telaan and Damos were every bit as bad as each other.:: ROSS: ::Flatly,:: I had an affair. TELAAN: ::raising his brows and nodding in clear disapproval:: I see. What is your current role aboard the USS Mercury, Commander? ROSS: Acting Captain. TELAAN: It's funny how things work out like that isn't it? So let me see if I've got this straight. You expect this court to believe that even though you knew what Doctor Saveron might think about letting the population of 83 Leonis-II perish, and you knew that he very likely had high level clearances aboard the Mercury, you failed to provide any oversight to the team that he had been assigned to on this mission. Such a lapse in judgement would be very uncharacteristic of an officer with your service record, would it not? ::Harry had to unclench his jaw to answer, else he would have spoken through gritted teeth.:: ROSS: When you put it like that, yes. TELAAN: ::shaking his head as he turned to Shyn:: Your Honor, I move that the entire testimony of Commander Harrison Ross be stricken from record and not given any further consideration during these proceedings. SHYN: On what grounds, counsellor? TELAAN: The Commander may have served with distinction in Starfleet to this point, but he has also shown questionable moral fortitude in his own personal history. He has admitted his desire to advance through the ranks, and with Captain Kells removed from command he has received an instant promotion. His records show an impressive history of following regulations and besting his peers at every turn, yet somehow he managed to turn a blind eye in regards to a prominent figure among the Mercury's crew. Commander Ross is either incompetent or corrupt, and I'm not sure which one would be worse. In my opinion, the Commander should be removed from duty until a formal investigation can be launched into his own actions at 83 Leonis-II. He had both motive and opportunity, Your Honor. All I'm asking today, however, is that his opinions not be taken into account, and this case be settled based solely on facts and regulations. ::As Damos rose to her chair to answer, Harry stared at the back of the courtroom, unable to trust himself to look at either Telaan or Kells. He was being portrayed as a man delighted to testify against his captain, desperate for a chance to sell him down the river and take his command. It was a trade, a barter — his career to save Kells'.:: DAMOS: Your honour. There was nothing in that testimony that warrants it being struck from the record. As my colleague so kindly pointed out — repeatedly — the Commander is a Starfleet officer of particular merit, honour and distinction, as well as being present during the events in question, easily fulfilling the requirements of relevance and reliability. His appearance as a witness in these proceedings is entirely appropriate. ::She paused, apparently considering something more, then left it at that. Shyn dipped her head in thought for a few moments, before nodding.:: SHYN: The motion is denied. ::Harry grimaced. He had thought, for a moment, he had been presented with a get out of jail free card; had his testimony been dismissed, his entire appearance would have never had happened. No insinuations about his conduct in his married life, no tearing down his decisions and performance on the Leonis mission. Free to go with a clean slate. ::No such luck.:: SHYN: ::She gestured toward Telaan.:: Do you have anything further? ::Gaareth tugged on his uniform as he turned to Commander Ross with a look of grim determination on his face. He had tried to get Ross's entire testimony dismissed. Doing so would have saved Aron's career, while also sparing Ross's. Unfortunately, it seemed that Damos was out for blood and Shyn could hold a grudge. Now he was going to have to do this the hard way.:: TELAAN: .oO Sorry, Commander. Oo. I do, Your Honour. ::Harry grimaced, bracing himself. His bad day was about to get much, much worse.:: --A Joint Post by Captain Quinn Reynolds (as Kora Damos)Lieutenant Commander Isaac Bale (as Gaareth Telaan)
  13. Lt. Cmdr Saveron & Lt. JG Alora DeVeau: Universal Language ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ((Ensign DeVeau's Quarters, USS Mercury)) ::Dressed in his Vulcan robes and carrying a very fat Vulcan harp case on a strap over one shoulder, Saveron stopped outside the door that the computer identified as Ensign DeVeau's quarters and signaled the door chime.:: ::She couldn't be heard from outside the room, but when Alora heard the chime, she immediately ordered that the visitor be allowed to enter. ::As the doors slid open Saveron stepped in, moving with an easy grace, and stopped in the entryway.:: Saveron: Sochya, Ensign DeVeau. ::He made the ta'al and spoke in Modern Golic Vulcan.:: I trust that the timing is still convenient? DeVeau: Sochya, dif-tor heh smusma. (Peace, live long and prosper) ::Alora offered a smile even if the Vulcan did not and then motioned for him to step further into the small quarters. They had met again the day prior to discuss the DNA, but no conclusions had been made – except when, exactly, they would meet the following afternoon. Alora turned back to her inner sanctum and plopped down on a couch. The room was comfortable. Soft yet warm light made it easy to see. There were a few holo-pictures that depicted various peoples, most of whom were obviously related to the resident. A quilt of various shades of blue was folded neatly over the back of the couch. A closer inspection revealed work not done by any sort of mass manufacturing. Decoration of most sorts was sparse save for the variety of plants that filled the room Most were set upon a decorative shelf, a light above each to help regulate temperature as well as how much light the plants received. There were quite a few species from various planets though all of them required similar conditions to thrive. Quite a few plants were scattered about the room and not placed upon the shelves. These were small things in coloured pots that had fuzzy leaves. The flowers were velvet in appearance and bloomed in an array of colours from yellow, to purple, to mixed. The most prominent colour was purple with a few sporting a combination of purple and another hue. All but one was in bloom, and the one that remained completely green sported what looked to be a hundred buds that would surely open soon.:: DeVeau: Cop a squat. ::Alora motioned to a seat beside her. A low slung table would sat diligently before her, a place to rest the harp when not in use. Like Saveron, she had an instrument held within its case, that of a guitar which waited by the corner of the couch.:: ::The gesture in the direction of the nearby seat was a vital clue as even with the Universal Translator there were certain types of slang that gave the Vulcan a lot of difficulty. He nodded in acknowledgement and settled easily onto the couch, placing his instrument case onto the table.:: DeVeau: Thanks for doing this. Saveron: You are welcome. ::He replied gravely, a response learned from other species.:: ::His attention was however momentarily on the room itself. The soft lighting made it far easier for him to see, the higher light levels of Federation Standard could be glaring, and as he adjusted his third, transparent eyelid slid back across each eye.:: ::The plants caught his attention, specimens from many worlds and ecosystems, he judged, for he recognised some of them. Not the small plant with the delicate flowers that occupied so many of the surfaces in the room.:: Saveron: If I may ask, what is that plant? ::He enquired, curious, gesturing with a long-fingered hand.:: DeVeau: Hm? ::Alora actually rose as Saveron sat down. A question had been imminent, but the Vulcan's own came first. She followed the pale gaze of the man to the plants in question.:: DeVeau: Oh those are African Violets. They're native to Terra and hardy little things, though they don't look it. My family has kept them for generations, actually. Some of these are descendents of plants from my great, great, great, great grandmother. ::She reached out to caress the velvet leaf of one plant, less fancy than the others with its darker green foliage and deep violet, single starred flowers.:: Saveron: Fascinating ::He subjected the nearest plant to a close visual examination.:: Clearly you have an appreciation for fauna. DeVeau: Well, botany is one area I focused on. Do you like plants? Saveron: My own people are agrarian. DeVeau: Well, yes, but that doesn't mean you like plants. ::Saveron inclined his head in acknowledgement of her point.:: Saveron: I also have an appreciation of botany and keep fauna from several Vulcan regions in my quarters. ::He would not, of course, say that he liked plants, for that would be admitting to a non-logical emotional response.:: ::Alora gave a small grin, then motioned to the replicator that was nestled within one of her walls. :: DeVeau: Do you want something to drink? Or shall we just get started. Saveron: A cup of theris-masu would be agreeable. ::Alora made quick use of the replicator, then returned to her seat. She placed the drinks on a smaller table to the side that held one of her plants. There was no way she wanted to risk an accident that might harm the beautiful Vulcan instrument.:: ::Saveron meanwhile opened the catches on one side of the case. The reason for the case's size was apparent in the two sets of clasps and hinges; it was designed to hold not one of these instruments, but two. This one was in a traditional Han-Shir style and, unusually, made of a silvery wood, inlaid with a darker, golden wood in interwoven patterns. Lifting the instrument from it's case Saveron settled it on his lap with the ease of long familiarity and began to tune the strings.:: DeVeau: I've heard these played and they're so beautiful. I was always too busy to try and learn at the time though. I guess I'll have a little more free time now. Saveron: You lacked free time at the Academy? ::He inquired evenly.:: DeVeau: Oh I kept really busy at the academy. I managed a couple of extra curricular activities, but that was it and I tried to actually incorporate what I was studying into those - like using music with the languages. ::The Vulcan nodded gently.:: Saveron: Then one trusts that having fewer demands on your time will permit you to persue other interests. ::Satisfied with the tuning Saveron plucked several clear notes from the strings.:: DeVeau: I hope so. ::Alora watched the last bit of tuning with interest. She wanted to reach out to caress the material and feel the strings. Did it feel anything like the strings on her guitar?:: DeVeau: Are these usually made of wood? Saveron: They are made of many different materials. The desert tribes use bone, the western peoples laminated hide. The Nel-Gathic peoples are the traditional care-takers of the Tr'alorian Preserve, and are permitted to harvest a sustainable amount of wood from it. ::Of course one could replicate an instrument in whatever material one found preferable, but there was a value in instruments made using the traditional methods.:: DeVeau: I imagine the material used would affect the way the instrument sounds. Like violins and guitars. Types of wood can sometimes make the sound warmer or like it has more depth. The type of metal used to make a trumpet can do that too. Saveron: So I understand. This particular instrument belonged to my maternal grandfather. DeVeau: What about the strings? What are they made from? And from what I have heard, the Vulcan music scale is different from what one might be used to from my planet, though it seems to share some commonalities with certain other countries on Earth. Saveron: That is correct. The Vulcan music system bears a close resemblance to the Terran twelve-tone chromatic scale system which I understand is used in traditional Chinese music, as well as some music from your Indian sub-continent. The strings may be gut or woven hair or in this case fibres from an Aka'sis vine. ::He plucked several strings to demonstrate the series of tones.:: Saveron: The harp can also be tuned to a diatonic scale for playing most western Terran music. DeVeau: Would you be willing to play a little for me before we go over the mechanics? Saveron: As you wish. Each culture has it's own musical tradition, and post-Surak our musical systems were revised and unified, and the music differs again. ::He plucked a few more notes then tweaked the tuning of one string slightly.:: Saveron: This is a recent Golic composition. ::Plucking the strings rapidly he set up a flowing series of chords, major and minor harmonics with a complex melody line that required both speed and precision. Long, deft fingers flew over the strings in what was a technically demanding piece and pleasant to listen to, though it did not capture the imagination.:: ::It wasn't like the composition she had heard so many years prior, but it was pretty enough. Alora eased back to enjoy the music none-the-less. When it came to a close, Alora clapped.:: DeVeau: You said it's changed? Do you know any pre-Surak music? Saveron: Affirmative. I have made a point of learning ancient compositions from my own Nel-Gathic culture. DeVeau: Would...you be willing to play something for me from that era? Saveron: I have no objection. ::He replied evenly.:: ::Working by ear alone, Saveron adjusted the tuning of the instrument to the ancient system appropriate for the piece, playing a series of chords to test the tuning then pausing, apparently satisfied.:: ::The music this time was initially far simpler, beginning with a single pure note that rang out through the air before picking out a flowing melody that wound through a minor key, rising and falling with interleved harmonics that seemed to speak alternately of glowing hope and deep melancholy, the two threads of the music intertwined inseperably to produce a whole that spoke of the bittersweetness of life in all its complexity.:: ::The deceptively simple tones seemed almost to wind about one's spirit, lifting it and lowering it with the music, such that one experienced the same joy and sadness as the composer, thousands of years ago. It closed at last on a series of gentle chords that spoke of new beginnings, yet left a sensation that though complete something was missing from the music, as it sometimes was in life, a yearning for something beyond one's reach.:: DeVeau: Oh! That's more in line with one of the first pieces I've ever heard. Saveron: It is understood to be a celebration of new beginnings, tempered with the loss of old. Valeohrohen Naykh Hawehl-khur composed it in the weeks following his people's victory in the Battle of Five Springs. He lost his father in that battle, but his people endured. oOMy people. Oo You heard me speaking of him to Saavok. ::Valoren Silver Eyes was also a fairly famous figure in ancient Vulcan culture, for any who cared to study it.:: DeVeau: I've read a little about him, but it was a long time ago. ::Alora had other studies she had to focus on during Academy. History had been encorporated a little in her Vulcan classes, but not to the degree where she could be considered particularly knowledgeable. Still, the figure was familiar to her to some degree at least which kept her from being entirely ignorant.:: DeVeau: You talk about him a lot. As if you were related. Saveron: He is a direct male-line ancestor. He was a musician, a composer and a poet, a son, father and husband, and a skilled leader of the Ayein peoples. Much of his work is still extant. DeVeau: Sounds like a well rounded person. Saveron: He was also a murderer, a rapist, a warmonger and a genocide. ::He added in an odd tone.:: DeVeau: I suppose that's...sort of well rounded. ::Not in a good way.:: Kind of the anti-thesis of the picture painted if you simply look at his positive accomplishments. ::That wasn't that unusual, actually. Even humans were often like that.:: DeVeau: There was a king on Earth back during the 1500s in our timeline. His name was Henry the VIII. The guy was...well, to be honest, I wouldn't call him sane. He went through six wives, two of which he had killed for stupid reasons. He threw temper tantrums like an undisciplined child and was quite the tyrant. Yet, he was also a patron of the arts and even wrote some music himself. So I guess we know what that says about a person. Saveron: Only that no person is ever simple. Nor any situation. ::It was an important thing to remember.:: With the coming of Surak we rejected our violent past. And all that went with it. ::There was that odd tone of voice again, and the Vulcan plucked again the single note that had led his ancestor's composition; over four thousand years old.:: DeVeau: Yeah. You're right. ::Alora couldn't help but catch the change in tone. She tilted her head to regard the Vulcan and allow an acute study of his features. What was it in his voice? She couldn't put a name to it, nor did the stoic nature of his face change. He was unreadable, visually. But aurally? Something was in there, an emotion of some sort, despite his attempts to mask it. She refused to say anything, however. Vulcans did their best to suppress their emotions - but it would be a far cry to say they didn't have them.:: DeVeau: Perhaps an added benefit to these lessons will be that I get to learn more about your people's history. ::That smile that was so often present upon her features lit up again. Even if he did not care to express his emotions or let them wash over his face, she was not bound by such strict cultural standards.:: Saveron: If you are interested I would be honoured to convey my people's history, but I will not bore you with the details if you are not. ::He was aware that not every species appreciated data-dumping the way Vulcans could and did.:: I would be interested to learn more of Earth's history. ::The close comparison with this Henry, a leader of Alora's people, had caught his interest. It was fascinating to compare and contrast different species.:: DeVeau: Oh I love history, even history of other cultures. So...how do I begin with this lovely instrument? ::The Vulcan re-tuned the harp to the modern system then offered the instrument over, the wood warm from being held.:: Saveron: The lower curve fits over your thigh, the back held close to your body. Your right hand curves around the body and your left reaches across it. DeVeau: Okay...so...wait...like this? ::Alora gingerly held the instrument and placed the curve on her thigh. She drew the instrument closer to her body and then curled her arm around to reach the strings. Even though she got the basic hold correct, there was an awkward air to it. She looked to Sav and allowed him to make the adjustments needed so that she held it properly.:: ::Careful to touch her by her fabric-covered arm rather than her bare hand, Saveron adjusted Alora's hold on the instrument slightly. It was perhaps somewhat too large for her, but it would suffice for initial lessons.:: ::Satisfied that Alora held the harp correctly, Saveron undid the snaps on the other side of the case and lifted out the second instrument.:: ::This harp had only the most basic concept in common with the first. Where the harp Alora held was hundreds of years old, hand-made from rare woods, the one that now rested in Saveron's hands was clearly machine-made, formed of gleaming steel and transparent aluminium. The body reflected the low lighting and when he flicked a couple of switches on its side it became lit with an inner glow.:: Computer: Electronic pickup acquired. ::When Saveron plucked the steel strings to tune it the sound emanated not from the instrument itself but from the room's sound system, aimed to amplify in the general region of the electric harp. The sound was clear and pure but hard and metallic, unlike the soft tones of the wooden instrument with its countless organic subtleties.:: DeVeau: Wow, that's quite a difference. Saveron: As different as an electric guitar from an accoustic one. ::He was familiar with that Terran instrument, although he'd never played one.:: DeVeau: Are you sure I shouldn't use the one that isn't really old and precious? Saveron: Affirmative. This ::he indicated the electric harp in his lap:: is a useful compromise, but it lacks the subtlety of the original. I would not teach a student on an inferior instrument. DeVeau: If you're sure...Okay, I'll stop interrupting now. Please, continue. ::Adjusting the settings of the electric harp so that it mimicked the sound of the acoustic as much as possible, Saveron led Alora through basic Vulcan music theory, offering comparisons to Terran 'western' music theory and taught her some basic musical exercises that promoted strength in the fingers and deftness of movement. The lesson finished with a very simple piece of music, the two playing it through together after several repetitions.:: Saveron: Your talent for music is apparent, you learn rapidly. ::He observed as they finished up.:: ::Given that she was facing a whole new music system as well as a new instrument, she learned very fast indeed. It would be preferable if Saavok showed the same level of interest and aptitude.:: DeVeau: Thank you. ::It was indeed a compliment, even if there was no obvious emotion behind the words.:: DeVeau: Music has always come easily to me. If only it were that way for everything. ::Alas, life was just not always easy.:: Saveron: If you would not object, I will arrange for the replication of an instrument that will be better suited to you ergonomically. DeVeau: Oh, that would be great. I'm sure I could obtain a non replicated one eventually. The sound on yours just just too delicious that I doubt it could compare to one that wasn't crafted by hand. Saveron: The craftsman's skill brings out the individual characteristics of each instrument, something a replicator cannot. ::He agreed.:: You will however find it easier to learn with an instrument of appropriate size. ::Not that he would object to her playing his, if she found that preferable. But for practice she would need her own.:: DeVeau: Do you want to try some guitar before you go? ::Alora honestly enjoyed the company so if she could extend the time, all the best. However, she also knew they had taken longer than they hand originally scheduled out and she didn't want to keep him from important things.:: Saveron: If it would not impinge overly on your time. ::He did not wish to overstay his welcome, but both the company and the opportunity to learn were agreeable, and he had no other pressing calls on his time.:: DeVeau: Of course not. I have no other plans. ::Carefully putting both harps back into their case, Saveron gave Alora his full attention. He was familiar with western Terran music theory from his study of the piano, but had never attempted to play any Terran stringed instrument, and they came in a wide array of styles.:: ::Alora reached over to grab the case and pulled it up. She paused and then twisted her head to frown at the Vulcan. :: DeVeau: You know, I forgot to ask if you are left handed or right. Saveron: I favour my left hand. DeVeau: Oh good. Cause I'm right handed, but for some reason playing the guitar always felt better playing left-handed so I learned it that way. Don't ask me why, my body's just weird. ::Saveron would not have used that particular adjective.:: ::Alora withdrew the instrument from its case. It wasn't anything particularly fancy. Like the harp, it was made of wood rather than plastic or metal. It was a dark, cherry hue that was kept well polished. Alora drew it to her body as if it were a lover returning home and almost sighed. Her hands found their place and she began to tune the instrument, head [...]ed as she listened to the tones. Once finished, she turned to allow the Vulcan to examine how she held it.:: DeVeau: This is how you want to hold your hands. Think you can match it? Saveron: I will endeavour to do so. ::He replied, noting the positioning of the instrument with reference to Alora's petite frame.:: ::Of course he could. She didn't really doubt. Alora released her instrument and passed it along. She watched as he took it up and nodded as he immediately settled his body in the proper position - technically anyway.:: DeVeau: Relax. Relax. Don't worry about being so tight and stiff. You'll do better if you let the tension out. ::Saveron had endeavoured initially to copy her posture exactly, which was somewhat impractical given their different builds. Sitting back slightly he pulled the guitar in close and laid his long fingers on the strings.:: Saveron: Is this more appropriate? ::He asked.:: DeVeau: A little better. Saveron: I understand that it is a most versatile instrument. ::He was sufficiently familiar with Terran popular culture.:: How would you recommend I begin? ::He glanced across at her, grey eyes meeting green, awaiting her input since the tables were turned and she was now the teacher.:: DeVeau: Well, there are two schools of thought. ::Alora let her fingers glide over the strings in one fell swoop which allowed a chord to ring out.:: DeVeau: Some think learning chordal structure first is best. ::Her fingers moved over the strings again, but that time she picked out several notes to create a broken chord.:: DeVeau: The classical style of learning, however, teaches things a little differently. Personally, I'd learn classical style first because it's easy to cross over into more modern music and will help you further down the road. Some people like to start in a less traditional manner, though so really it's up to you. Saveron: I would concur with your assessment. ::He replied evenly. The classical style was more agreeable to his sensitive ears.:: DeVeau: All righty, let's get started. First, we'll identify the strings and move on from there. ::The lesson progressed as Alora laid out the fundamental workings of the instrument and how it was applied to Terran musical theory. That he already had a grounding in the latter was beneficial, and Saveron was an interested and attentive student. As the lesson drew to a close Alora had him picking out a simple tune of the guitar with passable competence.:: Saveron: Intriguing. The ‘guitar’s’ potential is clear. ::As he had said before, it seemed versatile.:: I am appreciative of your time and instruction. DeVeau: It's not a problem at all. ::Alora enjoyed teaching - sometimes, she learned things better when she taught - or maybe teaching gave her motivation to learn better.:: DeVeau: Are you interested in learning more? Saveron: I would find the prospect of future lessons agreeable. ::He allowed, carefully passing the instrument back to it’s owner.:: ::Alora carefully replaced the instrument in its home and secured the locks. :: DeVeau: Well that was fun. I shouldn't keep you. Thanks for teaching - and letting me teach! ::Inclining his head politely, the lanky Vulcan gathered up his harp case and rose gracefully to his feet.:: Saveron: It was agreeable. Until our next lesson. Dif-tor heh smusma. ::He offered her the ta’al.:: DeVeau: Dif-tor heh smusma. ::Alora mimicked the Vulcan's farewell and the salute. Unlike the Vulcan, however, she added her own signature in the form of her ever-ready smile.:: ***** Lieutenant Commander SaveronChief Medical Officer & Lieutenant JG Alora DeVeau Science Officer USS Mercury
  14. (( Sickbay - USS Excalibur-A )) Romjin: Alrighty guys and gal...I will just take this and see what I can get off it. I will send you what I find. ::Sal watched Shedet’s smile, thinking the weak imitation of the usually friendly gesture exactly mirrored his own feelings towards the intelligence officer at the moment. He looked towards Romjin as well, offered a wan smile, his dark eyes clouded.:: oOYou’ll send us what you find. Right. And when you do we’ll go sunbathing on Andor.oO ::He stayed silent and turned back to his work, waiting until Romjin had left before he got lost in his own thoughts.:: ::Sal admitted, he had a bias against intelligence officers. It hadn’t started that way, but so far every single intelligence officer he had met fit the mold of an arrogant, self-absorbed [...]. Romjin seemed no different. Waltz in, ask a bunch of questions, take someone’s else's hard earned work, waltz out. Or limp out in this case. It didn’t matter. Intelligence officers as a whole seemed to treat others as commodities to be used rather than people. It rubbed his own people-centered counselor personality exactly the wrong way.:: ::It didn’t help that he had yet to meet one that broke the mold.:: ((Flashback, Beta Antares research center, seven years ago)) ::She waltzed in as if she owned the place. Black hair worn loosely down her back, flaunting regulation style. She carried her chin up and her head high, as if to say her grey uniform meant she didn’t have to listen to the rules. She was outside the rules.:: ::The entire research department hated her.:: ::Lisa Ann Chapelle was her name, and if you called her Lisa she would burn you with a cold stare and inform you that should you do it again she could make your family disappear. And then laugh. As if it was a joke.:: ::Sal loved joked. He hated Lisa Ann Chapelle.:: ::To this end the researchers of artificial intelligence on Beta Antares called her ‘the Grey Witch.’ They didn’t quite know why she was around so often. What sort of devil’s deal had the research facility made with Starfleet? Probably something to do with funding. Researching artificial intelligence was many things; cheap was not one of them. It always felt like they had sold a little bit of their soul to the devil every time the Grey Witch appeared. An ever-present reminder that scientific curiosity and pure devotion to ideals meant little when your outcome could be bought, sold and traded to the highest bidder in an arms race.:: The Grey Witch: Why hello, boys. What do you have for me today? ::The voice was so sweet, lilting. Almost seductive. Not that anyone in their right mind would touch the Grey Witch. If she didn’t know some bizarre form of ‘I make your life miserable’ martial art, she could certainly make your life miserable in a variety of other ways. Or at least she insinuated it. Maybe it wasn’t true. Of the twenty seven researchers in the artificial intelligence lab, Sal was the only Betazoid and only he had a hint at the greater truth. He believed that somewhere under her veneer she was a struggling young woman, terrified of her superiors. Not that anyone else in the lab would agree.:: Senior Researcher Kensington: ::The tall dark skinned doctor smoothed his grey hair:: There have been no new breakthroughs in the cyborganic relays. It is still operating at a highly efficient level but we have not been able to teach it any sentient decision making. The Grey Witch: That’s not what I heard, Mr. Kensington. ::She smile like a shark circling prey:: ::Sal hunched over his console, he didn’t want to catch her gaze. Not just because he didn’t like her or her attention, but because today she was radiating desperation. She needed to find something here, her digging had focus.:: Senior Researcher Kensington: ::He coughed a bit and shook his head:: I don’t know what you mean, Miss Chapelle. The Grey Witch: Oh, I think you do, doctor. I noticed you made a report to Director J’nel indicating cyborganic relays could process data and make decisions while implementing orders. Senior Researcher Kensington: I sent that message to J’nel in confidence. That research is not ready for testing, it isn’t a suitable response for an artificial intelligence platform yet. ::His brows drew together in protest, as he took a step sideways to stand in between her and his own desk:: ::Sal felt the desperation recede somewhat, and he flickered his gaze upwards, watching as the Grey witch drew herself up to her full height, suffused with arrogance:: The Grey Witch: Anything I think is pertinent information to my mission, doctor, is privy to me. You will give me the new cyborganic research materials. Senior Researcher Kensington: It’s not ready yet. I will file a full report when it is completed. ::Kensington’s voice was soft, but firm.:: The Grey Witch: I don’t care. Move aside, or I’ll have you moved aside. ::She smirked as Kensington moved over fractionally.:: Senior Researcher Kensington: I would like to see the validation for you to take our research before we have released it. The Grey Witch: I don’t need to validate anything to you. ::She pushed past him, digging her shoulder into the man’s chest and neatly grabbing every PADD and data device on the desk top:: Thank you. ::She smiled broadly.:: I will, of course, be accessing your computer banks shortly, you may experience some lock outs. Everything will be up and running again my this afternoon. ::And just like that she waltzed out.:: ::Kensington swore under his breath, waiting until she was out of the room to slam his hand on the desk:: Senior Researcher Kensington: Of course, she had to come before we could process the data. Taybrim: ::He looked up, edging over to his manager:: She must have been monitoring everything we did. Senior Researcher Kensington: I’m sure she did. And now she’s got what she wanted all along. ::Sal frowned. The reason they hadn’t published their findings already was because the research hadn’t been useful for their own purposes. But they also figured out all too quickly the research had other – less savory – uses. The cyborganic circuitry was extremely compact and capable of processing a large amount of data, to the point where it could make basic decisions centered around a command. While it wasn’t promising for the creation of true sentient artificial intelligence, it would be devastatingly effective for things like weapons arrays that were capable of following targets or drones that could evade capture long enough to break enemy lines. The researchers considered the implications highly dangerous and wanted to test everything out thoroughly before making the proper reports to the Federation Science Council.:: ::Obviously Starfleet Intel had other plans:: Taybrim: I think she was on some sort of ultimatum to get results. Senior Researcher Kensington: I don’t care what she was on. She stole our research and you know full well it’s going to end up in a military application. Someday someone – maybe many someones are going to die, because a few idealistic scientists were trying to create a better AI and accidentally came up with a fantastic weapons guidance system. ::Sal winced. Kensignton had a point. For all his sympathy towards Chapelle, she didn’t seem to care one whit about what such things were used for, as long as she kept her superiors off her back. And it didn’t matter at all what the researchers said, they didn’t have any rank to pull over her and therefore they were second class citizens in her eyes. His throat felt dry as he leaned back in his chair, wondering what would become of this…:: ((End flashback)) ::It was Shedet’s voice that snapped him out of his reverie.: Shedet: Wanna cross-check for that planet? As I said earlier, I have access to the planetary database. They may not have the location of the planet, but there might be enough puzzle pieces for us to make an educated guess. Taybrim: ::He shook his head a little, to clear the memory from his mind. He didn’t even want to dwell on it:: Yes, I have the maps downloaded. Let’s see what we can find. TBC Ensign Sal Taybrim Counselor USS Excalibur-A
  15. ((USS Discovery-C - Quarters - Once All Settled on the Bridge)) ::Tracey sat in her dimly lit quarters gently rocking the Romulan infant child in her arms as the stars streaked by outside her window. Tracey looked down at the child and he up at her with his dark eyes which was in sharp contrast to her own. When thier eyes met, Tracey smiled and pulled the child a little closer to her chest. The child did not push away, but neither did smile, but continued to stare almost in curiosity at the new expression on Tracey's face. He then gently reached up and lightly touched Tracey's lips with his hand.:: TOWNSON: ::whispering:: Its a smile, Hvaid. I...I wish you could... ::Tracey's smile disappeared at the last of her trailing off spoken thoughts but the child's tiny hand still rested on her lips and their eyes remained locked for a moment longer before the child's head turned to look back out the window at the streaking stars. And as Tracey looked at the top of her sleepy infant's head, and the tiny hand slowly slid down from Tracey's lips until it fell limp next to the child and onto his adoptive mother's lap, Tracey's feelings of concern were welling up inside of her. ::It was not just the concern that one day, perhaps, this child whom Tracey had grown strangely attached to, would one day encounter his true parents and be taken away from her. But also the fact that she had grown attached to this very unique Romulan child whose emotional centers of his brain were disconnected, and therefore showed no emotion whatsoever. Without the assistance of the Vulcans nor the Romulans Tracey wondered if she was up for such a challenge of raising this child.:: ((Three years ago - Starfleet Medical - Psychiatric Division - Office of Doctor Samuel Huff)) ::Time and time again, Tracey's fate was almost sealed by the Dominion forces in which she fought against everyday. Either through physical or psychological confrontation of learning of another friend, colleague or family member killed by the hands either directly or indirectly, by the enemy. Death was a fact of life for her through her adult life and now was no different. With her eyes still closed and her head leaning back, Tracey, through a new round of tears, knew she would eventually learn her fate. If that was the case, it would be better to get it done now rather than later.:: TOWNSON: How did I do? HUFF: You passed. ::A frown formed on Tracey's face as she brought her head forward.:: TOWNSON: I don't understand...how? HUFF: ::smiling slightly:: The test is designed to see how one copes in a no win situation. You appear to have performed adequately. Congratulations. TOWNSON: ::turning her head slightly to look out the window towards the San Francisco, early morning, sunshine filled skyline, before turning back to face her Doctor.:: A no win scenario? ::The Doctor nodded.:: TOWNSON: ::shaking her head:: That's not a no win scenario, Doctor. I could have turned my ship around and left those on the Kobyashi Maru to die. To me that was more of a setup. A no win scenario is one where you have no choice. Where death is imminent no matter what decision you make. HUFF: I see. And if I would have told you you didn't pass. Would you have considered that a no win scenario? ::Tracey stared at her Doctor for a long time before she reached for her long, black hair and began twirling it in her fingers.:: TOWNSON: What do you mean, Doctor? HUFF: It is no secret your desire to reenter Starfleet. Have you considered any alternative? TOWNSON: No! HUFF: Why not? You are aware there are no guarantees. TOWNSON: It is who I am. It is what I was trained for all my life. I am not capable of living any other lifestyle. HUFF: But you are vibrant, young, bright and a quick learner. If you cannot get back to your universe of origin, I am certain you would easily find yourself, in time, able to adjust, settle down, and perhaps even start a family. Have you ever concidered children? ::Tracey shook her head. She then stood in her medical gown and slippers and walked towards the window.:: TOWNSON: I'd like to change the subject, Doctor. ((Present - USS Discovery-C - Quarters)) ::Even in her universe of origin, children were not on Tracey's radar. To bear a child while the galaxy was at war was not a prospect she wished for any potential offspring to have to deal with. Therefore she made certain that pregnancy would be an option she would never have to deal with. Since coming to this universe, these thoughts remained the same but for a very different reason. By laying down too many roots in this universe, it would be that much more difficult for her to return to her own should the opportunity arise. This was the reason she stayed at arms length from her comrades, trying not to develop deep rooted relationships at any level. And save for two occasions when she knew she would never see them again, refrained from any type of intimate relationships. But besides Jack, the medical student bartender at the Twilight's Edge on DS 17 and Doctor Charles Sampi, Tracey would push those away who would come too close.:: ((One Year Ago - Outside Tracey Townson's quarters, the night before Dr. Charles Sampi's departure from the USS Tiger-A)) ::Charlie took a breath and rang the door chime. After what seemed like the longest pause, he heard an answer.:: TOWNSON: Come. SAMPI: Hello, commander, it's Char... Dr. Sampi. I just wanted to see you for a moment if that's all right? ::Tracey turned her head towards the shadowy figure standing in the doorway and smiled as she leaned back in her chair and looked up towards the ceiling.:: TOWNSON: Making a housecall Doctor? SAMPI: Not exactly. I just wanted to see you before I left. TOWNSON: ::turning slowly and looking back towards the door.:: Of course, Doctor. Please, come in. Sit down. ::gesturing towards her bed directly across from the chair Tracey was in:: SAMPI: oO The bed... huh... Oo ::One of the first things Charlie learned in medical school was never to sit on a patient's bed. But then, this really wasn't a biobed, and besides, Tracey wasn't lying on it. For now, at least.:: ::Charlie cautiously sat down.:: SAMPI: Are you feeling better? TOWNSON: ::looking for a moment at her shaky left hand before returning her smile towards the Doctor.:: A little. I'm a big girl, Charles. I'll heal. But thats not what you came here for. ::It was a statement. Not a question.:: SAMPI: ::chuckles:: I must be so transparent... you're right. I guess I needed to see you because of what happened... in the corridor after the ceremony... TOWNSON: ::looking away before returning her gaze on the Doctor.:: You saved my life, Doctor. I wanted...I wanted to give something back in return. SAMPI: oO Something, eh? Oo Well, I... ::Charlie let out another small laugh and looked down.:: SAMPI: This is so silly, but now that I'm going, I guess it doesn't matter anymore... ::He looked up.:: I like you Tracey. Or rather, I've had a bit of a crush on you... TOWNSON: ::smiling:: I see. SAMPI: I regret not being courageous enough to get to know you better... I told myself since you were part of the crew, and I was the chief medical officer, then technically you would always be my patient in some way, so it would be inappropriate... but I think that was more an excuse I could tell myself. ::Charlie looked down again, in shame.:: SAMPI: To not worry about getting hurt possibly if you didn't feel the same way. TOWNSON: ::looking towards the window before returning her gaze towards the former Chief Medical Officer.:: Sometimes life gets so hectic that we sometimes miss those signals that are right in front of our noses. SAMPI: ::looking up suddenly:: Do you? TOWNSON: Do I what, Charles? SAMPI: Feel the same way, that is? I know you didn't really get a chance to know me more either... TOWNSON: ::smiling slightly:: I trust you Doctor, and with that trust I feel comfort around you. How far that would go is anyone's guess. ::She looked down for a moment:: TOWNSON: I am a soldier, Charles, and you are a healer. We are exact opposites from one another. But you have shown a true interest and care for my well-being that has gone unnoticed. But that has changed. When I learned of your departure, a part of me wanted to jump up and say "no!". It was at that moment when I realized that my feelings for you were perhaps more than just Doctor, patient variety. I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable in the corridor after the conference. ::looking down.:: Hearing what you have just told me now brings a bittersweet feeling to me. I wish we had more time. But at the same time, I don't want to hold you back. ::Charlie just sat for a moment, taking in everything the woman had just told him.:: SAMPI: I... I don't know what to say... ::He then smiled.:: SAMPI: Well, actually, I do know one thing. You don't have to apologize about what happened in the corridor. It was a very pleasant surprise. ::Tracey stood up as she pushed on her cane with all her strength. She stood in front of Doctor Sampi and spoke in almost a whisper.:: TOWNSON: Catch me. ::Charlie gave a puzzled glance before she let her cane drop to the floor and fell into the Doctor's arms.:: SAMPI: ::looking down at her:: Tracey! TOWNSON: ::looking up into the eyes of the Doctor and smiling:: Before your departure, I have one last request of you, Doctor. ::As Charlie looked down at her, he knew she could ask him for anything at that moment--a case of 2309 bloodwine, the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, anything--and he'd strive to get it for her.:: SAMPI: Yes? TOWNSON: Stay with me until I fall asleep. ::She listened to his heartbeat through his chest. He gave a soft chuckle and leaned back against the headboard of the bed as Tracey continued to rest against him.:: SAMPI: Of course. ::Tracey smiled as she rested her head on the man's chest. She could smell his skin and could feel his chest slowly rising and falling. Tracey felt a comfort in the man's arms she had not felt for years. But she knew it would be short lived. The Doctor would be gone by the morning, she knew. And she wanted so much to ask him to stay, but she was a child of StarFleet, and she knew the sacrifices that had to be made. She only hoped that the Doctor did as well, as she looked up into his eyes and smiled.:: TOWNSON: I... I hope none of this changes your plans, Doctor. SAMPI: ::sighs:: Well, Captain Riley just signed the final transfer request... TOWNSON: ::smiling and sighing:: Good, otherwise I would have ordered you to go. SAMPI: ::laughs:: I believe I have the same number of pips as you, *commander*... ::He looked down and grinned broadly.:: TOWNSON: ::still smiling:: I know...::as she pressed her left finger against each one of the Doctor's three pips before moving it to his cheek.:: But a girl can always try. ::Her head then slowly lowered back onto the Doctor's chest. Charlie took the blanket from the bed and placed it over her gently. He kept his arm wrapped around her as she closed her eyes.:: SAMPI: You know, there is a scheduled leave after the first six months of the fellowship program. Perhaps the Tiger won't be so far away then... ::The doctor looked down to see though that Tracey had fallen asleep. He smiled. Was this really happening? What were his plans now? How could it ever work? Did it even matter?:: ::He kept a watchful eye on her, but it wasn't long before he too closed his eyes.:: ::As the Tiger continued on its journey, one in which Charlie would not be able to follow, the two drifted off into a place where they could remain together, if only for a moment.:: ((Present - USS Discovery-C - Quarters )) ::Tracey never saw the Doctor again past that memorable evening, as he had slipped out and left the Tiger before she awoke. Once again, Tracey felt unhindered should she find a way to return to her universe of origin. But now she had a child. One that was almost inexplicably dropped in her lap when she found the infant in an abandoned cave on Bilire IV. A child she became almost instantly attached to the moment she picked him up in her arms, to the point where she dove a batleth into the forehead of a Klingon to protect the child from harm. ((Six Months Ago - Hill Tops - Bilire IV)) ::Tracey held the child in her arms as tightly as she could without smothering him, as she ran with the others. Keeping up was not easy, but she fought the pains that were beginning to develop as well as old injuries whose pains of some were reemerging.:: ZERXES: We can approach from a hilltop and provide cover; give them an escape route. RILEY: Which hill? ::Everything was moving very quickly....:: TOWNSON: ::lifting her head from her footfalls and scanning the area visually.:: 11 o'clock, Captain! ::shouting through the pounding raindrops.:: RILEY: How much farther? TOWNSON: We should be getting closer! RILEY: Townson, are you doing okay? TOWNSON: I'm fine, Captain. ::she put on a false smile, but she was struggling. She was too proud and in essence, stubborn to ask for help. Besides, she knew she'd be hard pressed to leave the child out of her care.:: ::The team stopped and Tracey looked up and at the scene in front of her. She then looked at the Captain as she too appeared to try to figure the next best course of action. Suddenly the new security officer spoke up, and Tracey's attention was drawn to him.:: ZERXES: Two providing cover fire, two going down there to cut a path. ::Sidney's eyes widened at the fact the Ensign was now giving her orders to provide him with cover fire. It shocked her so much, there was a second before she spoke.:: RILEY: Ensign, you don't want to give your position away.... TOWNSON: Wait! I've gotta.. ::But the man had already rolled onto his back and pulled his rifle into position. Sidney shook her head, if she yelled at the eager man she'd give away both her and Townson's location. She sighed and pulled out her phaser setting it to the highest stun setting.:: RILEY: Keep the child safe. TOWNSON: Yes Captain. ::Tracey moved back and rested the child onto the ground in an area she assumed would be able to shelter the child from errant fire and potential debris. She then crouched down and pulled out her phaser and pointed in the general direction of where Zerxes went running from her naturally carved out trench area.:: RILEY: I'm going after hot shot so he doesn't get himself or us killed. TOWNSON: I'll cover you, Captain. ::Tracey then watched as the Captain headed away as she trained her phaser on nothing, but should something attack the Captain, Tracey would have a good shot at it from her location. With her senses at their peak, Tracey picked up a minor unnatural sound from to her left rear of her head, close to where the infant was. For a fraction of a second, she thought it was the infant himself who moved or made a noise, but turning her head slightly, the unnatural shadow of a large individual could be seen. Her eyes darted up just in time to see the Bat'leth blade come slicing down towards the two of them.:: ::In a heartbeat, Tracey threw up her right hand and the Bat'leth made contact with it accompanied by the telltale screeching sound of steel meeting steel as the weapon slashed through the false flesh of her prosthetic hand. The power of the impact shook the phaser from Tracey's left hand and the weapon rolled down the hill. Tracey gripped the blade and looked at her enemy in the eyes as she squeezed the edge of the blade and would not let go. I minor tug of war ensued and once Tracey felt the weapon was useless in her grip, she let it go. The Klingon slipped back momentarily and Tracey took the opportunity to stand and with lightning speed, reached for the Klingon's neck with her right hand, as the loose false flesh dangled from it in the wind.:: ::The Klingon tried in vain to pry open Tracey's grip, to no avail as Tracey looked up and an evil smile spread across her face. He then tried to push her arm away with his as the Klingon's ability to breathe was becoming more and more labored.:: TOWNSON: Don't even try, Klingon. You'll rip your own esophagus out. ::With the clouds moving at the pace of the ever increasing wind gusts, and the large raindrops pouring down over her face and matted hair, Tracey's grip remained secure on the Klingon's air pipe, just under his chin, as she pointed towards the child lying inches away, still covered in a StarFleet tunic. Both of the Klingon's hands were gripping Tracey's right wrist as he fought for each breath he took.:: TOWNSON: On your knees, Klingon. ::pointing towards the Romulan infant.:: Pray to the child, and I may let you die an honorable death. ::The Klingon shook his head weakly and tried in vain to spit at the recognizable Romulan child whose pointed ears were clearly in view. Not liking the response from the Klingon in her grips, Tracey increased the pressure just a little more. as she watched the color begin to drain from the face of the Klingon. Moments later, the Klingon dropped down to his knees as his oxygen levels began to deplete.:: TOWNSON: Good, Klingon. ::One of the hands of the Klingon went limp, and reached for a dagger from within his torso, and with one last ditch effort, slashed up at Tracey's right arm, cutting across her right forearm.:: TOWNSON: NO!!! ::With her left hand she gripped her right forearm as the red liquid seeped through her fingers, but she didn't let go of the Klingon's neck. As the Klingon tried one last slash Tracey caught the weakened Klingon's arm, wielding the dagger and drove it into the Klingon's torso.:: ::Suddenly the Romulan infant let out a wail. A shriek, and Tracey turned. With her focus on the child, the Klingon withdrew his dagger from his own torso as a look of intense pain developed on his face, and once cleared, with Tracey's attention drawn to the child, slashed at Tracey's torso, and created a deep gash in her belly. Tracey turned back to the Klingon, now keeling over in intense pain and once again, increased her pressure as she swore in Romulan.:: ::This time Tracey grabbed the hand of the Klingon holding bloddy dagger and brought it up and drove it into his forehead. With blood covering both of her arms and torso, and bent over in pain as she tried to stop the bleeding at her belly with her left arm. She watched as the Klingons eyes rolled back into its head, and when she could no longer feel a pulse around her grip of the Klingons neck, she let go, and the Klingon collapsed backwards with his hand still in the dagger as if he had driven it there himself.:: ::Tracey looked at the dead Klingon for a moment before gathering up the child and heading down the hill to join the others as the storm didn't let up.:: ::Tracey was in no condition for another fight, but from what she noticed, things appeared to be calm for the most part.:: TOWNSON: Captain. ((Present - USS Discovery-C - Quarters )) ::Tracey looked down at the now sleeping infant and gathered him up in her arms, stood up, closed her eyes and held him close as to protect him. She then headed to the infant's crib and gently tucked him in. Tracey stood and watched the child sleep for awhile, before crouching down close to the infant Romulan. She then gently brushed his cheek with her real left hand and whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek.:: TOWNSON: I love you, Hvaid. And I will make certain that no harm shall ever come to you. And should a portal open back to my home, I...I just don't know anymore what I would do. ::And with that, Tracey sat cross-legged at the side of the crib and cried for those she had lost in a universe that now only existed in her memories.:: -TBC- Lt. Commander Tracey Townson Chief of Operations USS Discovery-C
  16. ((Isolation Unit – Sickbay)) ::Folds left Skyfire with the new data from Cuthbert's biobed and went to the nearest open workstation. As rapidly as he could, he called up the computer's database of toxins. Then he narrowed it by those known for use in murders or assassinations. Then -- in the midst of narrowing for known or suspected use by Romulan or associated agents, he remembered that it would be far faster to simply allow the computer to sort by similarity to the toxin he had just discovered in Cuthbert's bloodstream. He was far, far too tired. And now, with Cuthbert deteriorating nearby, was the worst possible moment for his weariness to begin showing symptoms.:: FOLDS: There we go! ::The computer beeped at the end of its search. Folds scanned the data, disappointed. No match. Only ... this toxin, unrelated but similar. It would have to be good enough to help, perhaps even guide, their search. At least its origins were, in these circumstances, heartening: the Federation didn't know of it from a direct Romulan connection, but it was suspected. It would have to be enough.:: ::Folds returned to Skyfire's workstation, where the blonde medic was, as always, so hard at work on the task at hand that he hardly seemed to notice the other officer's approach.:: FOLDS: ::handing him a PADD:: Not a match, but something similar. No early signs of cold or shivers reported, but similar circulatory symptoms and difficulty in blood clotting and wound healing. But ... if it *is* this similar, time is of the essence. From this point -- ::he lowered his voice; not that Cuthbert could have heard him from across the room in his state:: -- from this point, we'd typically have less than an hour. SKYFIRE: Less than an hour? How long have you and Alden been back from the surface? FOLDS: ::squeezing his eyes shut and reopening them:: I don’t remember. Who knows how long we’ve really got; we just need to be ready. SKYFIRE: That doesn't bode well. I have a theory about how this poison works, due to its similar composition. There are some wintergreen teabags in my kit. Open them up, add water, and rub it over the wound site, as it'll stop the bleeding. It will buy him a few minutes, at most. FOLDS: ::momentarily confused, but then forcing himself to focus:: Wintergreen tea? Sure. On it. :: Chythar shook his head, still disbelieving in himself that he'd made a mistake. This wasn't the time for mistakes. He had to do something. And do it fast. He got up from his console and took out an old-school 20th century adrenal, somehow guessing he'd have to mix in some wintergreen with the adrenaline. OO Wintergreen isn't my first option, but it will stop the poison for at least a few minutes. That will be all I need. Oo he thought to himself as he opened up the adrenal and began his chemistry experiment. He didn't have time for a full-blown solution, just enough time to make something and pray it worked. He didn't want to lose a crewmate if he could help it. This would not happen. Not on his watch. :: ::As Skyfire set to work trying to synthesize -- jerry-rig, might have been more like it -- an antidote to the toxin now coursing through Cuthbert's body, slowly creeping toward his heart, Folds set about gathering the tea from Skyfire’s medkit. Who knew keeping tea in a medkit could be so useful. Tea, water, scalpel—he was working quickly and couldn’t help but wish his left hand, into which he was throwing each item he plucked off the shelf, were ten times larger, so he could balance everything easily while running back to the workstation.:: SKYFIRE: I'm nearly there. ::The time passed too quickly as Folds, now empty-handed--sat adjacent to Skyfire and followed his instructions. Folds had mixed the contents of the teabags with a bit of water before peeling off the bandages and began to rub the paste over the wound site. The blood clotted, and the antidote began to work its magic. Not fast enough, however.:: :: Within moments, the alarms began to blare from Cuthbert's biobed. Gesturing for Skyfire to stay where he was and keep working, Folds jumped up and began doing everything he could to keep his friend alive.. :: FOLDS: [...], [...], [...] -- not now, not yet! ::The alarms were roaring their death howl because everything was off the charts -- but not, as expected, because they were crashing. Alden, realizing that he wasn’t cured as he thought, was lying back down, trying desperately to control his breathing, though his body and lungs seemed to refuse to obey him. He felt his heart rate increase, pumping the over watery blood throughout his body at such a pace that new blood seemed to barely be reaching his heart in time to be pumped away.:: ::He felt light-headed from lack of blood flow to his brain, and the high heart rate, as if from some form of Olympic race that refused to ever end, continued to climb, marked by the blips that were now blurring together on the monitor. Sweat began to roll off him in buckets, beginning to soak through the bandages at the wound site as effectively as the blood was staining them.:: ::Alden tried to breathe deeply and calmly, but his heart rate demanded more and more oxygen to match the rapid pace of the blood that sprinted through his system, forcing him to speed up, until he was nearly hyperventilating in order to compensate. It was clear to the two doctors—or any observer, really—that this terrible loop would soon beat Alden’s body apart, regardless of if it ever slowed down. No body could handle the beating Alden’s was currently taking.:: FOLDS: ::shouting to Skyfire across the room:: What do you have? :: Skyfire held up the jury-rigged adrenaline syringe in his hand, jumping up from the console and over to where Cuthbert was clinging to dear life and Folds was trying to do everything he could to stop it. :: SKYFIRE: Just finished it! FOLDS: It'll have to be good enough! I don't think Cuthbert can wait much longer. SKYFIRE: I agree. :: and with that, he raised his hand high before plunging the chemical compound into Alden's heart just before the line went completely flat on the heart monitor. :: You can do it, buddy. Just keep breathing. :: He wasn't sure why, but he began to feel some sort of connection forming between him and the man whose life he may've saved. He was definitely scatterbrained; the answer to the Romulan connundrum was sitting on his console, the antidote to the poison was a guess that was based on theory and should theoretically work. He didn't know what he had to do as he waited for the monitors to normalize. It took several minutes for them to do so. Chythar was holding his breath, muscles tensed. He didn't move until he saw the monitors stablize, at which point he finally released the breath he'd been holding for the past several minutes. His body didn't relax at all, sweat coating his own forehead from nervousness and pressure. :: ::Alden’s body continued to heave in an attempt to get oxygen to the heart. But the warning blips on the heart rate monitor had begun to slow down to a more reasonable pace, and slowly, slowly, Alden opened his eyes. He was tired. Very, very tired. But not the same weak, sick tired that had induced his short rest before. This was a purified, “I-almost-just-died,” strength-recovering sort of tired.:: CUTHBERT: ::drowsily:: Thanks. :: At this point, Chythar began to relax just a little before smiling at both Folds and their patient. With that, he looked up at Folds :: SKYFIRE: I need to get back to work on the Romulan thing. Will you keep an eye on him and redress that wound? FOLDS: Sure thing. ::his heart still pounding and eyes still nervously wide:: Good work. ::The doctors’ words registered in Alden’s mind, but a response refused to form. And before the doctors had finished absorbing all that had happened, Alden was asleep again.:: ::Time had seemed to stop for Folds in that instant between Skyfire injecting the adrenal compound into Cuthbert’s heart and when the solution took effect. The room had seemed to freeze and—forever, it felt—nothing happened. His own mind was still returning, slowly, to normal. His weariness, combined now with his own adrenaline rush, was making him slightly woozy now that the crisis seemed averted.:: :: As Anscom replied, Chythar realized he just made another friend or two. He needed the friends. He needed to go drinking with them once this was all over. He needed to take a break. But there was no time for that. Alden was safe, so he didn't need to hasten his efforts and he could take just a few moments to breathe. Only a few. Once calm, he once more set about his task of picking up the Romulan's antiserum and continued fabricating his answer. :: ------------------------------- TAG/TBC Joint Post by: Ensign Alden Cuthbert Security Officer USS Excalibur-A Ensign Anscom Folds Medical Officer USS Excalibur-A Ensign Chythar Skyfire Medical Officer USS Excalibur-A
  17. (( Parkers’ Quarters, Marine Barracks )) :: After the night of dealing with Doctor Adan, they were fortunate to get back just before the twin suns rose that morning. It was too early to go to bed..they still had some work to do, and their quarters was the best place to do it at the moment. Others were enjoying their shore leave, but they were knee deep in finding out more about this secret organization the doomed doctor referred to. After a leisurely breakfast, which did more to make them both feel more tired, they decided to call it a day...or was it night...and get a little sleep...they had had precious little of it since the bluegill invasion and Tallis Rhuls’ funeral, and sleep quickly came to them...:: (( Later that afternoon, Marine CO’s office )) :: Now refreshed from their nap, Hannibal and Kamela went down to the Marine CO’s office to try to find a little more information. Once he opened the door to his office, Kamela was the first to comment on what was missing...:: Allison: Ty....where is your furniture? :: Which was a good question. The last time he was in his office, it was fully furnished, with a new desk and chairs...now...they were all missing...:: Parker: They were here when I left...I wonder what the hell happened to them? Allison: Was anybody supposed to be in here? Parker: No... : This was truly a predicament he was not expecting, and a mystery he would soon see the bottom of. Tapping his commbadge, he contacted the Quartermaster...:: Parker: =/\= Major Parker to Quartermaster.=/\= Franks: =/\= Lieutenant Franks here, Major. What can I do for you?=/\= Parker: =/\= My new chairs and desk are missing..=/\= Franks:=/\= Let me check on that Major...=/\= :: Over the open line, Hannibal could hear the Quartermaster entering a query on the computer, and he quickly came back with an answer...:: Franks:=/\= Major...did you finish filling out the requisition form for your furniture? =/\= :: Hannibal had to think for a minute...Starfleet was like any military, in that the paperwork had to be in proper form and submitted, something Hannibal had been a little bit busy to keep up with it all, and the departed Lt. Martinez may have overlooked it. Such things were usually not a problem, but now, it seemed to be a huge one...:: Parker: =/\= Lieutenant...my desk and chairs are missing from my office..and I’m sure the proper trail can be dealt with...but right now...I’M STANDING IN MY OFFICE WITH NO FURNITURE!!!!!=/\= Franks: =/\= Major, without the proper paperwork, the desk and chairs were appropriated by someone who had filled out the proper forms....=/\= :: Hannibal had had enough of this...:: Parker: =/\= Where is my furniture?=/\= Franks: =/\= Major...=/\= Parker: =/\= WHERE?????!!!!!!=/\= :: Even with Kamela trying in vain to calm him down Hannibal was not happy...and the Quartermaster was getting an earful...:: Franks: =/\= Your furniture was appropriated by.....Commander Nugra..=/\= :: Hannibal was on the verge of going to the Quartermasters’ office and tearing him to shreds, but it was that walking briefcase he was really mad at...but the hapless Lieutenant was currently in his sights...:: Parker:=/\= Lieutenant...you have exactly TEN minutes to get me a new desk and chairs, the same ones which were here. If they are not here by then, your life will become...very uncomfortable. NOW MOVE!!!!=/\= Franks: =/\= Aye, Sir, we’ll get it right over. Don’t worry about the paperwork. Franks out.=/\= :: After the channel closed, Hannibal began to curse in Klingon, but before he got really inventive, Kamela tried to calm his nerves....:: Allison: It’s just a minor issue, Ty... Parker: Oh no it’s not. Godzilla is testing me.... Allison: God...you mean Commander Nugra? Parker: Oh yes...that dishonorable, cold blooded... Allison: Allright Hannibal...let’s just go back to our quarters and wait...we are on shore leave, you know..and it will give you a chance to calm down... :: Hannibal followed Kamela back out, where they walked to their quarters. Upon entering, he sat at the terminal, having already though about the revenge he would extract on the Gorn. Accessing the life support controls, he ordered the temperature in Nugras’ quarters lowered to 10 degrees Celsius, then encrypted a code which could not be altered in any way, and erased it the computer. For the next week at the Embassy, the Gorn was going to be quite sluggish in the morning.Kamela saw what he was doing, but she didn’t stop him...what was going on between Hannibal and the Gorn was personal, and she knew it was going to get worse...: Allison: Are you sure you want to do this? Parker:: with a wicked smile:: Revenge is a dish served cold...and his quarters will be very, very cold.... Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker2nd Officer/Marine Commander/Chief Of Strategic OperationsUSS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy
  18. ((Sickbay)) ::So this Red-Collar with four pips came tumbling out of the Isolation Unit, looking like he was ready to be free of that hazard garb when he noticed the short blond feller and they took to gabbing.:: ::Now, Nady Briskow never minded much people gabbing in his Sickbay; you never knew what you’d overhear, what kinda tips you’d get just by payin’ attention to what others would blab in earshot of just about anyone. But today was another thing altogether. Closing off more and more of Sickbay as more and more beamed up from the surface; first the new doc and his muscle, who’d stumbled into more trouble than they should have; and then the Rommies decided to go to the mattresses against a squad of docs, fer cryin’ aloud!:: ::Setting aside what Nurse Briskow would like to do to the green-bloods—back on Iotia, back in Oxmyx Chicago, where Nady had grown up prowling the streets of the Near North Side, they’d teach ‘em to mess with Doc MacLaren right quick. Teach ‘em why you don’t mix business and personal.:: ::But the Feds didn’t like that—and, truth be told, Briskow had been a failure as a small-time mobster. He poked his nose in where it didn’t belong far too often. Got too curious for his own good. What his Pa’d told him when he went off to nursing school, then announced he was joining Starfleet. “Joinin’ up wit’ dem Feds? Whattaya think ya’are, where ya think ya come from? McCoyville over dere?” Nady never told his father the name of the Doc he’d been working under. It’d sound too—what’d the Book call it again?—too Scottish for him.:: ::And he liked to help people. Sometimes you had to pull the admission outta him like a rusty nail, but he did. Deep down inside there somewhere. Or else he wouldn’t be here, right?:: ::But this gabbing, the Red Collar and the Mysterious Blond Stranger, this was just too far: ‘Cause soon enough it wasn’t just some chit-chat but something more serious. Briskow was just standing there, minding his own business in the doorway from one of the labs into Main Sickbay, listening in on one of the strangest conversations he’d heard in while—both of the men looked real enough to him, after all; why’d they keep doubting it?—when the Red Collar shoved the Mysterious Blond Stranger against a biobed, erected a containment field and called for security.:: ::And then, with the place looking a mess—he up and leaves! Just like that! Not another thought about it. Just like an officer. Especially a Red Collar. Come in, say nuttin much of interest, start a fight, and leave the nurses—leave good ol’ Nady Briskow—to clean up after them.:: ::He stepped back into Main Sickbay. Might as well make sure it looked presentable when the muscle arrived to show this traitor to the Rommies (he glared over at the Mysterious Blond Stranger behind the containment field) the what’s what. ::Can’t let anyone think we’re falling down on the job here in Sickbay, just because all hell’s breaking loose everywhere the officers go. Nope. No sirreee...:: TBC PNPC Crewman Nady Briskow Nurse USS Excalibur-A
  19. ((Luxury Suite, Menthar Anchorage)) ::Sorel watched as B’horn and MacNickols pulled the minibar replicator in the rear of the apartment apart. The main one in the lounge might have been easier, but the last thing she wanted was Tol walking in and finding Anil hooked up to the thing’s computer system.:: ::She’d managed to keep him out of the Ferengi’s sight so far, and wanted it to stay that way. The nanotech implants in Anil Tain’s brain were illegal in multiple jurisdictions, and thus exceptionally rare anywhere near space controlled by most of the major powers. She didn’t like to think what sort of opportunities Tol might see in him.:: ::Devan MacNickols wasn’t the engineer that Tala had been, but he could hack a computer. That summed him up really, a jack of all trades and master of none, he was useful in all kinds of situations. He was an adrenaline junkie with a mediocre criminal history that kept him out of Federation space, an adventure seeker only looking for his next hit. He would live fast and die young, and in the meantime she gave him the opportunity to do the dangerous work and used his skills in return. So far it kept him coming back.:: ::Quite what his relationship with Tala had been she’d never delved too deeply into. Like most of them the Andorian zhen had rejected her own culture as not satisfying her needs. Refusing to be a brood mare and carry infant after infant for designated mates she didn’t care for, she’d sought out a life of her own and brought her engineering talents to Sorel’s crew. And now she was dead. Story of existence really. She’d be missed, but there wasn’t a [...] thing that Sorel could do about it.:: ::Whilst their Romulan leader supervised, B’horn worked with the kind of indefatigable persistence that one could only find in someone with Klingon endurance. He’d been with her since her days in the Romulan Empire, owed her his honour and his life. Beyond that he wasn’t certain why he stayed with her; most Klingons would have sought for some way to discharge that debt. He seemed content to ride out whatever journey she chose, acting as her security. He’d been her companion for the longest time, and apart from his unwavering loyalty she understood him the least.:: ::Well, almost unwavering; there had been that one incident. B’horn had never understood her tolerance of Anil Tain, let alone her attraction to him. The Klingon had only seen the Trill’s physical weakness, considered him a burden on the crew. She’d challenged him over it before he could do something to rid them of that perceived burden, and the fight had been very messy. Romulan strength against Klingon endurance; bruises, broken bones and green and purple blood all over the place. Eventually B’horn had backed down, but it had been a close thing. Sorel doubted she could ever beat him in a straight fight, but then she wasn’t inclined towards straight fights. She used every weapon in her arsenal.:: ::And lover or not, Anil Tain was one of them. Right now his ability to get inside a computer system might well be their only chance at freedom.:: ::Behind her firm facade she was acutely aware that they were only in this situation because she had brought them there. Mack had demanded to know what the frell was in the Corridor that made it worth coming all this way when they'd first set out. She had promised them riches in unplundered crash sites and alien artifacts, scavenging the best pickings of this no man’s land. And that had been one reason. But it hadn’t been the only one.:: ::Anil had told her that back on Trill, when his disease had first become apparent, that he’d had genetic testing done, the full extent of his mutation mapped and sequenced, but that nothing could be done. That had seemed ridiculous to her in this modern age, but he’d tried to explain that the extent of the damage was more than the usual inheritable mutation; something called a ‘frameshift mutation’. She hadn’t understood it, but apparently the affected segment of DNA was huge, resulting in multiple aberrant proteins that slowly built up in his body, crippling him. Only the blood/brain barrier preserved his mind. Doctors on his home world, and in the Federation at large, had told him that the damage was too extensive, their couldn’t repair it That had been the end of many of his dreams. He was dropped from the Symbiosis selection process, and where before he’d been driven and a high intellectual achiever, life suddenly lost all lustre for him. They’d told him he’d be lucky to live another five years, but so far he’d proven them wrong. He was stubborn like that, and surprisingly determined behind his quiet demeanor.:: ::Disgusted with what he perceived as his society’s having failed him, Anil Liorn had left to seek his own answers, and his own way of living with himself. There were those beyond Federation jurisdiction who conducted unsanctioned genetic engineering. But the ones he’d found couldn’t help him. He’d found others who could in different ways, and learned to trade his failing body for one of circuits and sensors, at least temporarily. Technology that not all could accomodate he had adapted to like he'd been born to it.:: ::That was Anil of course; then there was Tain. That symbiont’s previous host had been exiled for the crime of reassociation, refusing to leave behind a past romance. She’d been on some planet seeking ways to prolong her life when Anil had come seeking a cure. Neither had found what they sought but they had reached an agreement. The Symbiosis Council would no doubt he horrified, but clearly neither Anil nor Tain cared one whit.:: ::She did however; and that was her folly. She had told no one, but that was the reason she had brought them out here. Risked their lives, lost their ship, gotten her crew captured and all for her own private foolishness. And there was no guarantee that she was right, or even if she was that she would ever find whom she sought, or if she did that he would even help her.:: ::Regardless she had to try. The Federation was too law bound to help Anil, others too lacking in technology or charging the impossible. But she knew of a man who surely could. If he could engineer whole species as weapons he surely could re-engineer a few kilobases of faulty DNA. He might not choose to of course, he might not even remember her, incidental offspring of a causal liason. But none of that mattered. Rumour had it that The Infernal, that most infamous name amongst her own people, was out here somewhere.:: ::Sorel had come to find her father.:: MacNickols: I think that’s it. God knows if it’s going to be any use to metal-head, or whether he’s going to have access to anything other than the [...]tail catalogue, but we're in. Sorel: Good work. I’ll wake him. Tain: No need. ::Like a wraith he appeared in the doorway before making his way over on his crutches. He was wearing his circlet again, having taken it off earlier as though it’s lack of signal offended him. She offered him her arm and helped lower him into the chair they’d pushed up against the wall.:: Tain: Plug me in. ::Tala’s jury-rigged system was invaluable, and Mack made the connection. For a moment Tain squeezed her hand weakly and smiled blindly in Sorel’s direction, and then his eyes drifted closed. The smile stayed on his lips as he got his fix. She supposed that everyone was addicted to something.:: ::For Anil it was that computer connection; for Mack it was adrenalin. For B’horn she was never really certain, although violence seemed to do it. For Tala it had been the chance to tinker with different technology.:: :: And for herself? It had been freedom. The endless possibilities that a ship represented. Yet that was all lost, and as she watched Anil seem to sleep, mind at work in the Anchorage’s computers, it occurred to her that you could have more than one addiction.:: END Sorel Romulan Captain Previously of Fortune’s Daughter (Simmed by Dr. Saveron, USS Mercury)
  20. (( Marine CO’s Office, Duronis Embassy )) :: Hannah was nervous. After leaving the Somers sisters on board the Thunder, she wondered exactly how she was going to tell Hannibal she had been recruited by Lt. Commander Nugra to join his new strike team. It was a wonderful opportunity, but it was fraught with problems. Hannibal had been nothing but good to her since she joined him, saving her career. Would he view this as betrayal after all he did for her? Was she being used as a pawn by the Gorn commander to needle Hannibal in their simmering feud? The Gorn, after all, had been trying to nail Hannibal for some misdeed or another, and now...well, she just didn’t know. The Gorn could force her hand one way or another, but the final decision was hers. Once she left for the Academy, she would have time to sort it out. Hannibal even made sure she would follow the Marine accelerated program at Twenty Nine Palms. Nervously, she knocked on his door..:: :: Hannibal had not spent much time in his planetside office, so it still smelled mostly new, and the big chair squeaked a little. The walls were still mostly bare, as decorating them had not been a priority..but he would change that soon. Firing up his LCARS terminal, he began to wade through the tons of messages, requisitions, and Fleet information...until...he saw it. A transfer request, generated by no other than Lt. Commander Nugra....the anger began to boil against the hated Gorn...it wasn’t difficult. Accusing Hannibal of a crime when no crime existed, then sending a Security detail to HIS Marine deck not only was against protocol, but also dishonorable. Putting four of his then minions in Sick Bay was quite enjoyable. He and the Gorn had been too busy fighting bluegill to worry about fighting each other, but that day was coming when he was going to tame Godzilla and educate him on the finer points of Starfleet decorum. His thoughts of deconstructing a Gorn were broken by a knock on the door...::: Parker: COME! :: Hannah walked into the office to see the massive Marine sitting behind his deck. He was not smiling, which either meant that something had really [...]ed him off, or the paperwork was frustrating him. Either way, she learned the best way to deal with Hannibal was straight on. He ushered her in with a sweep of his arm, and motioned for her to have a seat..:: Martinez: Oo Oh God, please let me the first to tell him...Oo :: Having just saw what he did, Hannibal was not happy, and he was hoping that Hannah was here to tell him about the pending transfer...he would speak to the Gorn about it later in rather forceful tones..:: Parker: You all ready to leave the nest for awhile? Martinez: I am..I’ll get a chance to go to Arizona and see my brothers again, if they are in the system...but that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.... :: Leaning back in his chair, Hannibal waited for her to start...:: Parker: Go ahead...you know you can speak your mind with me... ::Hannah gulped hard..and for a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would be like to “christen” the Majors’ desk..the thought made her inwardly smile, but those days were over...and the blond [...] most likely would before too long anyway....:: Martinez: Hannibal....before the invasion, Commander Nugra came to me..and wants me to be part of a rapid reaction force made up of Marines and Security personnel, similar to your classified unit, except we would be perform assignments such as rescues, interdictions, and the like. We don’t have one, and it would be a real asset to the Thunder and the Embassy to have that capability. :: Hannah did have a point. Hannibals’ unit was more of a clandestine outfit, operating in the shadows and usually under “plausible deniability”, which meant if they were caught, they were on their own. A unit such as the one the Gorn was putting together could absolutely be useful on sanctioned operations. Looking in Hannahs’ eyes, he knew she was struggling with telling him about this, and his anger towards the Gorn was still present, but he was determined not to let it show..:: Parker: It would be a good tool to have in the toolbox for those occasions where we might have a touchy situation out here... Martinez: I know, Hannibal...but...I haven’t accepted the job..... Parker: Why not? Martinez: Because....I didn’t want to hurt you. This extra duty would be great for my career, but I didn’t want to do anything behind your back. I can still serve as your First Officer, as this would not be a full-time thing.::smiling: You can’t get rid of me that easily, Sir... :: Hannibal was happy to hear that. Loyalty was something that Hannibal valued, and even though the transfer request was on his screen, he knew the extra training would be helpful to him as well..:: Parker: Hannah....you are my First Officer as long as you want to be, but I want you to understand that you will have to make the final decision. You are a capable officer, and even though I cannot stand that cold blooded, sharp toothed, grating voiced walking suitcase, his idea has merit.... :: Hannah was relieved, and she blew out a sign of relief. Once again, Hannibal surprised her, but this time, nothing was blown up or disemboweled...yet......:: Martinez: Hannibal...I don’t know what to say... Parker: Say nothing until you are ready. You are going to be one hell of an officer, Hannah.... Martinez: It’s all because you believed in me.... :: Standing up behind the desk, Hannibal walked around it to face a now- standing Hannah. He embraced her, the hug conveying what the two of them could not say. Hannah felt protected, armored...and it was all she could do to keep from crying as he released her. Holding her out at arms’ length, Hannibal smiled..the first time he had smiled all day..:: Parker: When you get to Twenty Nine Palms, watch out for Major Charlie Houston..she runs the escape and evasion class there. She is sneaky, but good... Martinez: I will, Sir. Parker: If you have any problems there or at the Academy, let me know. Martinez: I’ll be fine, Sir. Just tell Hella I want my flight lessons when I get back. Parker: Done. :: Hannah took a step back, looking at the Major, thinking again about the desk, then looking back at him..:: Martinez: Permission to leave the Embassy to make my transport? Parker:: nodding and shaking her hand:: Permission granted...and good luck. I’ll see you back here soon..Semper Fi, Lieutenant.. Martinez: Hoorah, Major.... :: Smartly, Hannah turned on her heel and left Hannibals’ office. She didn’t dare look back, and she knew she was opening a new chapter in her life, and the one man who could have destroyed it all gave her more than what she had ever wanted...hope...and a chance. She would not fail him at the Academy, nor with the Marines, and she would be the best she could possibly be, even better than she ever thought possible, and she had Hannibal to thank for it..:: :: Hannibal watched her go, and she knew this was a big step for her. She would come back to him a better officer, a better warrior...a razor with an even finer edge. He sat back down at his desk, and although knowing he could not prevent Hannah from joining Nugras’ team, he decided to write the lizard a little note... LCARS INTERNAL MESSAGING TO: LTCMDER NUGRA FROM: MAJ HT PARKER RE: MARTINEZ EXTRA DUTY RESPONSE TEAM I CANNOT FLAG SUCH A REQUEST, BUT STARFLEET REGULATIONS ALLOW ME TO RESPOND TO SUCH A REQUEST FROM THE ORIGINATING OFFICER. MY RESPONSE....:: :: Hannibal wrote the rest of it in Klingon, questioning the Gorns’ parentage and lizardhood and wondered why he didn’t have the balls...or was it eggs...to tell him about it face to face and that such deceitfullnes was worthy of a Romulan. Smiling again, he hit send. He would love to see the Gorns’ face when he read the message...:: TBC Lt. j.g Hannah MartinezWeapons Specialist/Marine First OfficerUSS Thunder-A/Duronis II Embassy and Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker2nd Officer/Marine Commander/Chief Of Strategic OperationsUSS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy
  21. ((USS Tiger-A, Deck 2, Jorey Personal Quarters)) ::Asher sat down in his favourite chair. It was a rich, warm mahogany wing chair upholstered in a soft patchwork of velvet in blues and greens. The chair was set beside a small viewport. He liked to look out into the vastness of space as he sipped his sweet uttaberry tea. It made him feel insignificant. It was a humbling experience and Asher believed it was important for Betazoids to nurture their humility. Betazoids are not known for humility.:: Alena: ~Enjoy your tea, Bryant.~ She said draping a beautifully crafted sheer scarf over her shoulders. ~I'll be back in an hour or so.~ ::Asher offered a warm parting smile before turning back to the viewport and his warm aromatic tea.:: oO That'd odd. Oo ::The stars seemed to be moving faster and in an erratic pattern. Asher stood up and stepped closer the viewport to get a better view. He could see a large planet. It looked like a giant drop of water. It was beautiful. As the ship got closer, Asher could see more detail in the water. Complex patterns in a pallet of blues. The movement of the ship was blurring the colours like the impassioned bush strokes of painter caught up in his work.:: ::It reminded him of a painting of the Opal sea Jorey had once painted for him as a gift when he was younger. It was one of his favourite possessions. Jorey was a rough and aggressive child and had little interest in the arts. However, Asher was able to teach him the joys of expression and the importance of clarity and eloquence and on very rare occasions Jorey would become overwhelmed by inspiration and take to a brush. It gave Asher a great sense of pride that he was able to have a hand in making a brutish boy into a well-rounded young man.:: oO How big is this planet? Oo ::Asher was no longer able to see the black of space. The viewport was now completely filled by the deep blue ocean of the unknown planet. The floor seemed to give way underneath his feet and he fell clumsily into his favourite chair splattering the remains of his tea against the wall behind.:: oO What a mess! Oo ::The ship shook violently. Asher clung to the chair even as it tipped over and started to slide forward toward the far wall. Asher could sense terror, panic, and confusion from all over the ship. He was not confused. He had felt this once before when he was with Jorey and his parents aboard the USS Helios. The ship was going to crash.:: oO By the Gods! Oo ::The ship's momentum stopped suddenly slamming the chair backward sending Asher head first into the uttaberry stained wall. For the moment the ship was still. Asher stood up slowly and looked out the viewport. The hot deep red light from a nearby sun was almost blinding. It took a few moments for Asher to realize that he was looking at the planet's sky underneath shallow waters. He could feel his body getting weaker as he watched the sun's light slowly fade to black as the ship sunk further into the seemingly endless ocean depths.:: oO Such divine and inspiring darkness. Oo ::Asher tried to look out the viewport for as long as he could before succumbing to his injuries and losing consciousness. The midnight waters were made more haunting by the deep groans of the Tiger's hull under the intense pressure of the vast waters. The experience seemed to transcend reality and Asher felt the loving hands of Karawatti upon his shoulders, the spirit of Betazed herself was reaching out across space and time to assure him that he would see her again. He struggled to stay on his feet and failed. He collapsed over the headrest of the wingchair, his back arched awkwardly, and he continued to bleed out from the cut on his forehead.:: Mr. Bryant Asher Civillian as simmed by Lt. JG Brayden Jorey USS Tiger-A Chief Helm Officer & CAG
  22. ((Sickbay, USS Discovery-C)) ::He spotted the flustered Raskorian instantly upon entering the infirmary and dashed directly towards the plumed physician, battling nausea and a pounding head along the way. He stopped abruptly. A wall of glass stood in his way, between himself and the doctor, whom he saw buzzing about the surgical suite like a hummingbird on speed. As he pressed himself against the thick glass panel, he caught glimpses of the patient in between flitting silhouettes of dancing medics and pirouetting automated scanners. Blood. Everywhere. The prophecy was coming true. Each of us will meet our pre-destined ultimate fate, a fate Future Emerson had been forced to witness and subsequently chronicled and passed down to him to bear, like a body-devouring hereditary disease. There was no escaping it. And this was the day. This was the day Raj Blueheart would die. Driven by heart and adrenaline, when opportunity struck in the form of a medic entering the sealed and sterile suite, he burst through the entrance and into the white room. Ignoring the astonished shouts and gasps, he dragged his feet across the floor, in a trance as if, his eyes and mind only focused on the body being operated on the table in the center of the room. Was someone calling out to him? The bloodied body of the man lay draped on the steel table. Remarkably, he had a sort of whimsical smile upon his sallow face. Gloved hands and hydraulic appendages dug into cut flesh and sinews. The rusty scent of coagulated blood hung heavily in the air, pungent, almost cleansing in a way, like bleach is cleansing. Yet, through the heavy, smothering odor, he could still smell him. His scent lingered, weak but viable, within the cloud of repugnant molecules of morphine, antiseptic, blood and death. The distinct scent that reminded him of home. A haven. A sanctuary. That secret garden that held his own heart, displayed proudly upon a marble pedestal. A steady beeping echoed through the room. Was that Raj’s heart? Multiple strong pairs of hands and arms tore into his clothes and gripped his limbs like vicious claws. He was being hauled away by an angry mob of surgeons and nurses. Dragged away from the secret garden. The scent waning, the rhythm of the beating heart fading, visions blanching. Tears screamed and hollered on behalf of his choking throat. The same psychotic thought pulsed and pounded within his head like a jackhammer. The prophecy was coming true. There was no escaping it. And this was the day. This was the day Raj Blueheart would die. TBC ======================================= Ensign Emerson Ravenscroft Xenolinguist USS DISCOVERY-C as simmed by Commander Raj Blueheart First Officer USS DISCOVERY-C
  23. (( Command Center: Kjenta II )) ESKYYS: You want to do this? :: Reaching up to his collar he removed the pips and held them in his hand for a moment. Looking at Tyr he dropped them to the floor. :: You do it without me. I quit. ::Tyr looked down where the pips had fallen, mixing in with the gore and blood from the battle. Esk quietly stared at the top of his head and said nothing more. He returned his eyes, dull and unsympathetic, to the Hallian.:: WALTAS::Flatly:: Fine. Then get out of the way. You’re relieved of duty. ESKYYS: oO Again Oo :: Esk walked away quietly as Tyr ordered the transports to begin. He could not stay and watch what may happen. He fallowed the passage Amman had taken. When he found the open door he smiled grimly as he walked outside. After a few minutes he found the Cook laying on the ground like a broken toy. It looked a lot like Esk felt, cracked and buckled along the whole length of its body. Sitting at a 20 degree tilt to port, it took a few minutes to release the hatch and pull himself up into the cabin and found a seat. He sat quietly as he wondered how long it would take before somebody noticed he had not beamed up. Not that he cared at the moment, once Discovery got back in contact with Starfleet Jen would come for him. He closed his eyes and thought back over the last seven year. Seven year, had it really been that long since he had first met Tyr, not even a Captain then. Esk had spent a lot of time proving he was a good officer for Discovery, even if Tyr could never understand that all Esk wanted was to be the Chief Engineer. He had no desire to ever captain his own ship. He liked being an engineer as much as Rode loved to fly. It was just part of who he was. But now, his heart was hurting. It was not so much Tyr had accepted his quitting, but what really hurt, he had ignored Esk warning. After all those years working with him, his concern was not just ignored, it was thrown back in his face. He knew everyone was ready to leave this place, but to do so depending on unknown tech was just insane. He would have only needed an hour to go over the equipment, possibly less, with the antenna Discovery probably have pulled them out without even using the equipment. He could have verified than in minutes, but Tyr had not even given him a few minutes to check even that idea out. Still his only thought was to pray that the transporter had pulled everyone out without further loss of life. His friend did not need anymore death on his hands. With a smile that was almost more grimace than smile he realized he would still remember Tyr as a friend, even if they never saw each other again. After all they where who they where regardless of what happened. TBC Lt Cmdr Eskyys CEO(?) USS Discovery-C(?)
  24. ((The Eagle’s Roost, USS Discovery-C)) ::Fearing the worst for the away team, and specifically, the first officer, Emerson had sought the solace of spirits and a sympathetic (pointy) ear.:: CRUELLA: Your day will get worse. You have already guaranteed yourself that much. I think in a minute you may be glad to have avoided physical violence. RAVENSCROFT: Nah, ::waving his hand arrogantly:: I doubt it. I need the violence right about now. ::He stared longingly into the empty glass as if it were an eye of a lover.:: I need the distraction. ::Someone howled on the other side of the bar. Emerson looked up, and into the fathomless and timeless eyes of the Reman.:: CRUELLA: How are the Columbia survivors getting along? A few of them have been chatty about your assistance in bringing them to the present. RAVENSCROFT: Meh. It was nothing. Steve taught me well. ::His emerald green eyes moistened. He clenched his fist around the empty glass while simultaneously clenching his jaw till his masseters bulged hideously and screamed in searing pain. Furrows dug deeper between his eyebrows, bringing them closer together. Quinn. Now Raj, Steve. He was in Starfleet, he reminded himself, chided himself. A day like this would ultimately arrive, abruptly and rudely. Why wasn’t he prepared for it? How *could* he have prepared for it anyway? His commbadge chirped. He almost reached up and ripped it off his uniform realizing he was off duty at that moment when a familiar, spine-chilling voice, stopped his hand in mid-air and stopped his heart in mid-beat.:: ROGG: =/\= Ravenscroft, get to Sssickbay! Raj will want you. =/\= ::The commlink went dead. He looked up at Sister Cruella, eyes blazing with green fire, a cold sweat erupting on his brow. He stared at the emptied glass then back at the Sister. Surely this was a biochemical trick played on him by the purple prankster. Or a Reman hex. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the ancient woman clad in swathes of black fabric behind the counter, but a soft sigh emanating from her was all he needed to assure himself that this was no trick, this was no spell, this was no hallucinatory intoxication. This was Steve back on the Discovery! And.. this was Raj back too!! He jumped back and over the barstool, almost toppling it, and raced out of the Roost on heavy legs, with a spinning head and a queasy stomach. But also with a heart filled with hope and gladness bursting at the seams.:: ((Shortly thereafter)) ((Sickbay, USS Discovery-C)) ::All throughout his dash along corridors and in turbolifts, Steve’s words finally made an impact on his purpled brain. Sickbay. Sickbay, the Dachlyd had uttered. Now outside the doors of the infirmary, the queasiness in his stomach began to rise in the form of bile to the back of his throat. What horror awaited him on the other side of the door? Would the fates seal themselves with the death of Raj Blueheart, as his future self had tragically witnessed, in another time, in another universe? He hadn’t the patience or the courage to contemplate the unknown, no, not then and there, and as such, burst through the doors in a cloud of fearful anticipatory joy, into a brightly blinding and sterile world.:: TBC ====================================== Ensign Emerson Ravenscroft Xenolinguist/Transition Officer USS DISCOVERY-C as simmed by Commander Raj Blueheart First Officer USS DISCOVERY-C
  25. ((Captain’s Ready Room)) ::Gwinnett was dressed in her standard uniform, but she didn’t have any of her equipment, that she would normally have worn on duty. She wasn’t actually quite sure what one did wear for a counseling meeting with the Captain, who was now a Fleet Captain. She was sure that he had done his homework on her and, not to be completely in the dark, she had looked up as much as she rated on her clearances on his service record. She had learned that he had been a counselor at one time in his career, which didn’t lighten her mood.:: ::She buzzed the office and then entered. She walked in and come to attention directly in front of him.:: Gwinnett: Sergeant Gwinnett, as ordered, Sir. ::Standing rigidly at attention, looking slightly down as she was to be inspected.:: ::Diego was already on his second cup of raktajino; he had barely slept the night before thanks to burning the candle at both ends and as many sides as he could get a flame to in searching for a solution to Greir’s hearing problems. He’d seen on his schedule that Sergeant Gwinnett had been referred for counselling as well as the reasons why. He had been less than impressed but now was not the time for a reprimand. If she had a problem then they needed to work together to fix it.:: Herrera: Grab a seat, Sergeant. ::He gestured to the one on the other side of his desk.:: Gwinnett: Yes, Sir. ::Formally. ::She was taking pains to keep any sarcasm out of her response as she found the seat next to the desk and sat down, but didn’t relax. Brooks was now in high officers country and she was the focus of attention, something that she didn’t particularly like. She much preferred to stir the pot and then sit back and watch things explode. Now she was front and center of her own personal storm, of her own making.:: Herrera: So… interesting situation we find ourselves in, huh? Anything you want to say before we get started? ::He wasn’t prepared to tolerate discrimination on his ship but he understood that there was something bigger at play that needed looking at. He wondered if she might bring it up without prompting, or if she was going to be an elusive customer.:: Gwinnett:: My service record is pretty complete, Captain. I admit, it is a bit checkered. I do a good job on duty, I do tend to blow off a bit too much steam off duty. ::Thinking to herself, of some of the stuff she hadn’t gotten caught at. Now her troubles were coming back to haunt her.:: Herrera: Alright, but recently there was an incident that flagged up the fact that we needed to talk about something. Can you tell me more about it? ::Of course, he knew what had happened, but he wanted to set a precedent here. It was Gwinnett who needed to be talking, not him.:: ::Gwinnett squirmed just a little bit in the chair, trying to get a bit more at ease, which was elusive.:: Gwinnett: Sir. ::She knew that the question would come up, but it didn’t make it any easier.:: I .. I was wrong...I... ::Thinking of Chen, a cold shiver came over her.:: Gwinnett: … have always had this thing about Andorians.::She moved her eyes away from the Captain, trying to focus on something else, anything else in the room.:: ::She opened her mouth, but nothing came out and she closed it again.:: ::She’d taken the first step herself before hitting a wall, which was good. It looked like Gwinnett wasn’t going to deny the fact that she had a problem, so now it was a case of working with her to figure out how they were going to deal with it. Cliff notes had been provided for Diego and he had enough information to know that this wasn’t going to be easy.:: Herrera: Alright, thank you for bringing that up, because it would have been easier for you to let me say it. I think that’s probably the first of a few gut checks that we’ll be looking at, but we’re gonna work together and see if we can get past them all. Gwinnett:oO Great...I could use a stiff drink right now.Oo : I guess, Sir. ::It certainly didn’t feel good. She would've paid to be anywhere other than here:: ::Leaning back in his chair and assuming his ‘professional’ posture, otherwise known as feet up on the desk, Diego settled in. The batting was now officially open.:: Herrera: OK, so the next step is for us to talk about why you have an issue Andorians. What is it about them that you… don’t like? Or that you find unnerving? And how do you react when you see them? We can take this at your own speed. ::Gwinnett didn’t want to take this at any speed. She squirmed a bit.:: Gwinnett: Sir, I am a pretty straightforward soldier. I have been close to the front lines for most of my life. They just remind me of my homeworld. ::Her shoulders, jerked up slightly in revulsion.:: Some unnerving about them. ::Looking at the way Gwinnett was reacting to the question, Diego felt like he could read a little more into the word ‘unnerving’. There was something that was freaking her out about them. Fear was a powerful emotion and, while it was one that counsellors had long been trained to counteract or conquer, it was important to find the root of that fear first.:: Herrera: Alright, so I guess my next question has to be whether or not there were any Andorians on your homeworld? Gwinnett: No… but those… things. ::Her mind flashed back to the cave and the crazy. She fought the thought, and came back to present.::Her shoulder twitched again, as a cold sweat started to form on the back of her neck. She moved her hand under her hair to wipe it away, as to try to wipe the entire episode away. :: ::Diego had the answer he wanted. Objective one was going to be to try to divorce the Andorian species from whatever it was that Gwinnett was really afraid of.:: Herrera: Alright, so what you’re telling me is that there’s something about Andorians that reminds you of something else from your homeworld. Whatever it is that’s bothering you is actually not Andorian at all, right? ::Gwinnett disliked talking about her homeworld, she had finally gotten the strength to leave it forever. She never ever wanted to go back. Even to see her brother.:: Gwinnett: Yes. ::She answered defensively. She didn’t know what time this was to be over, but right about now and a direct march to the lounge would have been perfect .:: Herrera: OK, in that case, let’s try looking at this from a different angle. Can you tell me some things that Andorians don’t have in common with whatever it is that’s bugging you? ::She fought the memory of the tentacles, but like the memory they reached out to her and she started to visibly shake. She was transformed into the scared child that had been captured by the crazy waking up in the dimly lit cave, with the tentacles coming out of its head attempting to probe her. She wanted to flee, both from the cave and the office.:: Gwinnett: Keep them away from me...::Her voice became low and distant, like she was already defeated.:: ::Diego could see her starting to get caught up in her thoughts, which was hardly about to do either of them any good. He needed to bring her attention back to where it needed to be, so he called her name, raising his voice enough to give her a small shock.:: Herrera: Gwinnett! ::The voice was like to voice of the rescue party that found her hours later. She was found passed out in the cave alone. She awoke from her nightmare, to find herself in front of the Captain. It took her a few seconds for her mind to refocus on where and what she was doing.:: Gwinnett: Sir? ::Confused.:: Herrera: I want you to tell me some things about Andorians that don’t remind you of what you saw on your homeworld. ::His voice had returned to its usual volume and the statement was delivered calmly but insistently.:: ::Gwinnett tried to push those independently moving antenne out of her head. She tried to focus more on some of the more palpable features. There was the color of the Andorians. The crazy was more flesh color, than the blue skin.:: Gwinnett: Color...I think...::She was still trying to put the horrible tentacles that came out of its head out of her thoughts. It was difficult to think of the differences, as bringing up the image of the crazy had always been something she had avoided at any cost. She twitched a bit, and didn’t know what to do with her hands that were in her lap.:: Herrera: Alright, that’s a start. Can you think of anything else? ::Frankly Gwinnett wanted to end the session right now. Her world had been rocked, right back to her childhood, and that awful experience.:: Gwinnett: ::Bucking up.:: I don’t know fully what happened in that cave, and I would rather never know. ::Diego drew in a long breath and dragged his feet down off the table, leaning forward and steepling his hands. Maybe this was going to be more difficult than he thought.:: Herrera: I can understand that and if you don’t know what happened then I can’t tell you, so you’re in no danger of finding out. If it’s more that you don’t remember then you already know, and there’s a chance that, sooner or later, something will remind you. We’ll worry about that another time, but the first order of business is dealing with your issue with Andorians. If we can’t get past that then it’s gonna be tough for you to find somewhere to work with Starfleet because they’re one of our founding members. Herrera: If you can’t think of anything else other than the colour then we’ll just have to use that as best we can for the time being. If you do think of any other differences then you can try to use them as well. I’ll tell you what I mean in just a second… ::He picked up a PADD from his desk and set it to display a generic picture of an Andorian but didn’t turn it around just yet.:: ::Gwinnett had several mental images now rolling around in her mind and not of them were good. She just wanted to get out of there and she would've given up her stripes to do it.:: Gwinnett: Sir, I really don’t want to relive that experience in the cave again. It is something that I have tried to put behind me, I will apologize to both of them. I just… can’t face them again... ::Currently filling the role of a counsellor and not a torturer, Diego had no intention of forcing her to relive the trauma of her past without proper preparation. There were several treatment methods he could think of, including hypnotherapy, where he might be able to help her without forcing her to relive anything directly or through her own eyes. In the meantime, though, his job was to make sure she could function as part of the crew.:: Herrera: I’m not asking you to relive anything. We need to work together to make sure that you’re not going to be disturbed when you see Andorians any more. Can you work with me to do that? ::Gwinnett was skeptical, she wasn’t big into hand holding and psycho babble. But she did remember the last training with the Major and the problems she had were she actually retreated during a combat training. That had bothered her.:: ::Her face fell a bit. She had been trained to be a rough, tough and no holds barred soldier. To be in counseling was a disgrace. She weighed that against the last training mission, which bothered her also.:: Gwinnett: I don’t know… ::Which was the truth, a lot of the bravado had eked away from the usual bluster that was Brooks Gwinnett.:: ::Diego wasn’t expecting her to find this easy. Explaining what they were going to do in steps would hopefully give her something to latch on to, because she would be able to see which steps she would need to take and better understand what they involved.:: Herrera: OK, we’re going to start by consciously thinking about the difference you identified to give you something that can reassure you whenever you see an Andorian. That then gives you a safety mechanism, something for you to hold onto to show you that the people you’re looking at are nothing to do with your homeworld. Almost like a mental anchor, if you like. How does that sound for starters? ::Brooks was still skeptical, but she wasn’t a quitter. She would give it a try. At least for a little while. She mustered her bluster, trying to get her resources back in order.:: Gwinnett: Not quite sure what you are talking about, but I guess.::Trying to build back a bit of confidence.::Sir. Herrera: Good. ::The real question wasn’t what she found different between Andorians and the source of her fear, but what she found disturbing. Finding that out would come later.:: Herrera: I’ve got a picture of an Andorian zhen on this PADD. ::He held it up with its back pointing to Gwinnett.:: I’m gonna turn it around and I want you to take a look. There are a few things that I’m hoping you’ll be able to associate with a normal Federation citizen. If you feel yourself starting to worry, concentrate on the colour of her skin and the fact that this is just a picture. You ready? ::She nodded.:: ::He waited for her to acknowledge the question and then turned the PADD around to show a picture of a zhen in civilian clothing, holding a baby. The infant was wrapped up enough that you could only just see a flash of blue, but it was one of the most non-threatening pictures Diego had managed to locate in advance of the session.:: ::Gwinnett looked at the picture of the Andorian. It wasn’t too bad, she just didn’t like them. The worst feature was of course the antenna, but they weren’t moving and not towards here.:: Gwinnett: Yeah...I see it, just a picture. No problems. ::There wasn’t any emotion in her voice. She knew a picture couldn’t hurt her or the baby..:: Herrera: Right. It’s just a mother with her kid. How would you feel if there was a hologram of her? I mean, that picture can’t move and a hologram can, but… on the plus side, a hologram can’t hurt you. ::He slid forward a convex, disc shaped object that was designed to project a miniature hologram.:: Herrera: This one’s also only designed to project a hand-sized picture. Could you switch it on for me? ::Gwinnett took the disc and activated it. It projected a small 3-D image of the andorian. She studied if for a moment. An then placed in on the desk. It didn’t bother her anymore that the image of the Andorians:: Gwinnett: ::Shrugging her shoulders.:: No problems. ::She didn’t know where this was going. But she figured there was a point to it.:: ::Diego saw the nonchalant response and found it interesting. She didn’t seem to be at all bothered, which was good, although her somewhat indifferent response wasn’t quite what he had expected.:: Herrera: If you could tap the button again? There are a couple more holos stored in the projector, so let’s take a look at the next one. You’re doing well so far. ::The holoimage changed to a projection of an Andorian thaan in a yellow-collared Starfleet uniform, holding a phaser, ready to fire. This projection incorporated an element of threat, although the idea of seeing her colleagues holding phasers would not be new to Gwinnett. The size of the holo-projection had not changed. Diego looked at the marine medic for her reaction.:: ::To Gwinnett, she moved a bit unnerved by the Andorian, she moved her eyes away from it. She got an odd sensation from the holoimage. It wasn’t much but her movement was involuntary. She straightened up and regained her posture almost immediately.:: Gwinnett: Hmm… no problem. ::She only took a look back at the holoimage, then looked away.:: ::The sergeant might have claimed that there wasn’t a problem, but her body language was saying otherwise.:: Herrera: You seem bothered by that one. Is it because he’s a thaan rather than azhen, or is it because he’s holding a gun? Gwinnett: Just don’t like Andorians, and this one had a gun. ::Diego had given her an out, there. It was feasible that the fact he actually could represent a threat if he was actual size would be cause for concern. However, had he not mentioned the gun, it would have been interesting to see what she might have said. The only thing for it was to move on to the next image.:: Herrera: OK, if you could hit the button on the projector again? Gwinnett: Alright. ::Gwinnett could see that the holo projections were getting progressively more ominous. ::This time, the display changed to a hand-sized holoimage of Lieutenant Chen in his Starfleet uniform. However, rather than being stationary, this projection was animated. Every now and again, he would look from side to side, shuffle his feet, or his antennae would move slightly. It was also easy to see that he was breathing.:: ::Gwinnett could easily see that it was Chen, and that wasn’t any real cause for alarm. She didn’t like the twitching antenne, but it wasn’t too bad. She watched it for a few seconds and looked away. :: Gwinnett: Chen. ::Matter of factly. She knew that he would rear his head here at some point. This entire process was based about her attitude to the Andorian. She knew she had to get through this initial process somehow..:: ::Her comment was flat; Diego wasn’t expecting her to leap for joy at the sight of Chen, especially not being as he was involved in the circumstances that had led to her being in counselling in the first place. Even though it wasn’t Chen’s fault, it was possible that the negative emotions she associated with him had changed to resentment, and that she blamed him for being here. That remained to be seen, though.:: Herrera: You still seem pretty calm. That’s three different Andorians and one that you have a good chance of seeing from day to day. How do you think you’d react if the real Chen walked through the door right now? ::Brooks fought the urge to be flippant. A few quick barbs came to mind, but she paused to let them pass and then carefully weighed in.:: Gwinnett: I guess I would be alright. I have been in the past. I don’t like Andorians, but I don’t go mono cause either.:: ::Diego nodded, and terminated the projection on his desk. In some ways, Gwinnett had just had to face up to her Andorian issue and separate it from her trauma or phobia. That still needed to be tackled in future sessions, but for now, he was confident that they could start to wrap things up.:: Herrera: Alright, so one of the things that I’m hoping you’re beginning to realise is that your issue isn’t with Andorians. You just saw three images and projections and the only thing you admitted to finding threatening was the gun that one of them was holding. The only Andorian currently on the crew is Lieutenant Chen and there have never been any incident reports to indicate that he would try to hurt you. Do you think it’s fair to say that we’re in a position where there’s no need for any more antagonistic behaviour? Or anything that could lead to him, or any future Andorian officers who are assigned here, feeling like they have no option other than to transfer away? ::Gwinnett took a minute to decipher the statement. She wasn’t sure if she was threatened by the Andorian with the phaser, but it did give her the willies. In her heart of heart, she knew that Chen wasn’t going to threaten her, but there was something about him or more specifically about the species, she didn’t like and being asked two questions at the same time. She really felt like she was in the hot seat now, it had been a mentally exhausting session, her head was starting to pound, and hearing all those big words wasn’t helping.:: Gwinnett: There is no reason to fear Lieutenant Chen. ::That pretty much wrapped up his business as counsellor, but there was one important piece of business that he needed to tack on as captain.:: Herrera: I really hope so. I want to help you get over this… fully get over this, but you need to know that if anything like this happens again, it won’t be the Andorians that will be transferring, if you catch my drift. ::Gwinnett understood the last sentence loud and clear.:: Gwinnett:: Yes, Sir.:Her tone was firm and strong.::: oO Give Reinard and Chen, and trouble a wide berth.Oo ::Diego nodded from behind his desk, satisfied that they’d at least laid a couple of foundations for future sessions.:: Herrera: Alright. You also need to know that if you find yourself experiencing any anxiety or other symptoms related to this phobia, you can contact me any time and I’ll do what I can to help you. For now, though, I think that’s a wrap. Gwinnett: Yes, Captain. Herrera: Stay out of trouble Sergeant, I’ll catch up with you later. ::She rose to her feet, nodded to the Captain and tried not to walk too fast the the door. She needed a drink and fast. Then something better came to mind, a long run and then a few drinks that would affect her more.:: ::He waited until the door was closed before slumping back in his chair and rubbing one of his temples. He wasn’t entirely confident he was getting through to Gwinnett but he’d find a way. Somehow.:: TBC A JP by Fleet Captain Diego Herrera Commanding Officer USS Vigilant NCC-75515 Deputy Commandant: UFOP: SB118 Academy & Marine Sergeant Brooks Gwinnett Marine Medic USS Vigilant SIMmed by: Eerie
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