Ulasso

Thank you to everyone that was involved with putting the awards on. It was a very special experience.

OOC: I REALLY like @Jack Kessler's revamp of his PNPC Cabrillo's character, and even more so the dynamic between Cabrillo's jaded self and this fresh new Ensign. IC: ((Main Engineering, Deck 11, USS 'Oumuamua)) Nijal watched the program run through the diagnostics and Cabrillo expected that the diagnostic wouldn't do much other than acquaint them with the core and its structures and systems but that was the starting point for this new engineer. Every starship had it’s own sounds, quirks and variations that were unique to that ships. The ‘Oumuamua was no different and getting to know the quirks of this warp core was the first thing Cabrillo and Nijal needed to learn. Nijal: Did you serve in engineering on your other ships? Cabrillo: ::turning back to the console:: My first assignment was to engineering but I ended up spending the majority of my time stuck in either a shuttle bay or a cargo bay. Nijal: I'm guessing that wasn't by choice? Cabrillo: I got off on the wrong foot with my department head and is was cargo duty for a long time after that. ::beat:: My second ship I was transferred to the Tactical team since they were shorthanded. The Chief Engineer didn’t even care to give me the time of day. Now I am cross trained in both departments. Nijal: Nice! I imagine that's a good double specialty, too. You can handle any ops department on the ship really. Cabrillo turned his body to fully face Nijal. He did not want to give her the wrong impression, although he really didn’t care for the senior officer core anymore, he didn’t feel he should burst her bubble. Starfleet would probably do that on their own. Cabrillo: Nijal ::beat:: I am not your typical Starfleet officer. The past five years I have seen things that have affected my career and outlook on Starfleet. I’m not going to paint this all-perfect picture that Starfleet does during recruitment or even in the academy. ::beat:: you need to be you, follow your path and no one else’s. Look to everyone for guidance but only take the best and use it to make yourself what you want to be. Nijal: Oh. I-- I see. Cabrillo realized he had said too much. His bitter outlook on Starfleet should not forced on this young Ensign. He started to regret what he said and was about to try and retract his statement but Nijal’s next comment caught him by surprise. Nijal: We're still going to be friends, though. A slight smile crept up on her lips and Cabrillo just starred back for a moment. Had he given her the impression that he did not want to be friends? That was not what he had meant to convey at all. He was certainly open to a friendship but really had only meant to convey that Starfleet is not this perfect utopian picture that recruitment paints, like all entities it has it’s dark secrets that no one wants to admit too. Again Nijal spoke up and snapped Cabrillo out of his worried thought process. Nijal: If you don't mind -- if I can ask -- do you think Starfleet still has something for you? If he were to be honest, he did not know. Starfleet and the powers to be had hit him hard with the one thing that he never saw coming, no loyalty to those who serve. Or at least that is how he felt after being thrown to the wolves for an action he was ‘Ordered’ to do. In all reality, he felt like he had nowhere else to go, there was nothing for him at home except scrutiny and Starfleet had left him to the lower decks for his actions. He did not know what Starfleet held for him but with nowhere else to go he figured he could still see different places as they traveled the galaxy. Cabrillo: Me? I know I still have a lot to learn and I am sure Mr. Corelli can teach us both quite a bit. ::beat:: So what do you want out of Starfleet, Ensign Zimedia Nijal? Nijal: Hm. That's a pretty big question. It was a big question, one that every new Ensign is asked by a senior officer at one point when they come aboard. Cabrillo was not a senior officer but he knew she would get asked the question and so why not be the first to ask and make her think about it? The next time she would be asked, he knew she would have a better prepared thought. Nijal: I want to be a chief of engineering, eventually, and then a captain, very eventually. But I want to achieve those things for me, to prove that I can, and for my people, to prove that a Cardassian can. You know, like Commander Nog for the Ferengi, or the late Ambassador Spock for the Vulcans. Cabrillo: A noble sentiment and a great path to put yourself on. Nijal: I know, it's a big dream. Cabrillo: No. Not a dream Zi, a destination. One you will achieve if you put your mind to it. She responded, however, with a radiant smile. Nijal: I'm going to try my best. (beat, and then the computer burbled) Like successfully completing this diagnostic for my first task as a starship officer. It looks like -- everything's good. Cabrillo: ::looking at the console readout:: Looks like we are out of a job today, everything’s in the Green. Nijal: Exactly what I was thinking, so Lieutenant Corelli will be happy. Cabrillo: ::smiling:: He will be pleased. She turned to him once more, with a second and final serious look on her face. Cabrillo was not sure why the serious look and braced for a more serious question. One that was not coming. Nijal: I'm glad we met, Cabrillo. This is going to be a beautiful friendship, just you wait. Cabrillo: ::smiling gently:: I have offered this to no one else on the ship, as this is privileged only to those rare few I call a friend. ::beat:: and yes I would be honored to consider you a friend. Going forward, please feel free to address me as TK. Cabrillo paused at what he had just said. He could count on one hand the number of people he had allowed to call him by his first name. This Cardassian had done, in less than an hour, what most people around him could not after months or even years of knowing him. This was unsettling to him, an individual who did not like to let others into his life, not after getting thrown out the airlock by Starfleet. Nijal: Response Cabrillo: ::meeting her eyes gaze back:: Let’s see what we can do to get you that Chief Engineer job and then we’ll focus on your next big plans. ::beat, smiling:: Consider me along for the ride and your right hand if needed. Together we will rule ::throwing his arms up in the air:: the galaxy. ::laughing at the gesture and the thought:: Nijal: Response Cabrillo: I say lets go get a drink and then see where this ship and your future take us. Cabrillo did not know what to think of Commander Rouiancet’s setup with this new Ensign but whatever the Commander was thinking had certainly changed Cabrillo’s day. For the better or worse he did not know but he felt some sense of responsibility for Nijal and if she wanted to be a Chief Engineer or even a Captain then maybe he could help. He didn’t know what to expect other than to back her ambition and give this Cardassian the support she needed. He and Starfleet already didn’t see eye to eye so if he needed to go head to head or toe to toe with someone to help her get where she wanted, then all the more fun for him. Nijal: Response Cabrillo smiled and nodded gently, motioning to the main entrance to Engineering the two headed out of the department an up towards 7-Forward. The day had been an interesting one thus far and Cabrillo realized that at the moment he simply felt relaxed. For the first time in a very long time, he was not despised at the world. Time to see what comes next he thought to himself as they exited Engineering. [[END of SCENE CABRILLO]] Ensign TK Cabrillo Engineer USS Oumuamua T239901JK1

Starting to worry that Lt. Sasha Johnson is secretly an Okaean Sea Witch.

OOC: Enjoying watching this trip between Katsim and Greaves unfold. This sim has some wonderful descriptive writing by @Alora DeVeau. IC: ((Wonderland Trail, 3300 feet - > Reflection Lakes, 4850 feet, Mount Rainier, Earth)) The tides had turned. During their visit to Bajor, Peri had invited Wes on a trip to her home, or what had once been her home during the last year and a half of her life before she entered the Academy. It was there significant changes had been wrought, but also where significant memories had been formed. Ayna had been a part of them, but she was gone. What would she have thought of the man who had come into her best friend’s life, who somehow put up with the quiet contemplation of the reserved Science Officer? Peri knew Ayna would have immediately liked him and just as quickly induct him into her inner cluster were only the very few were allowed entry. Peri was there. Her family. Peri had been family. But sisters of the heart were torn apart when life shifted and veered in much different direction. The Prophets had taken her home, and Peri was left without her closest friend. But while the Prophets dictate the course of time and watched over the lives of their children, they were not cruel. Perhaps there had been something to learn, a path travelled, knowing that Ayna was not required for her to succeed. Many blessings had bee bestowed upon her in the aftermath of the accident, not the least of which were other friends who had been set into her life, the most significant among them a human marine. Intelligent, capable, and funny, Peri had found herself seeking his company more and more with the passing days - and had even showed her a place that, while not sacred in the context of her devotion to her gods, was one she had only shared with a single other person before, until she had taken Wes there and brought her into a place she had always considered a sanctuary. And now Wes had returned the favour, sharing the delight of his youth and the draw of Earth’s natural beauty, he had whisked her away to a land that, while very different from where she had taken him, was as almost as pronounced in its loveliness as Bajor. The snow capped peak stood in a silent backdrop to the green carpet strung with rainbow lace. But that was only the beginning of what was in store. Leading her onward, through the wildflowers to where the trees stretched upward and encased them in their domain, they were still not done, for like she had on Bajor, there was a destination, a ‘prize’ at the end of their trek, though he did not challenge her to a race in order to reach it. Perhaps in some ways he was kinder than she. The slower pace afforded conversations, and the subject of concern and uncertainty was the placement of Peri in the world of Starfleet. Wes knew here he was going, his position already secured by the departure and subsequent recommendation of the former First Officer of the Oumuamua. But of her own fate, but the Prophets and Commodore V’Airu had been strangely silent. As always, Wes did not allow Peri to wallow in those doubts and brought with him his usual strength and encouragement that she had so come to appreciate. She eased away from one unknown to another, shifting from what might be to the what might have been. Katsim: What would you have done had you not joined Starfleet? Together they took to the trail once more, Echo, after landing upon Wes’ pack, scrambled back to her former perch atop Wes’ head now that he had elected to move on rather than remain in one place. She chirped, perhaps to echo the question, or maybe simply out of sheer joy that she got the best seat of all. Greaves: That, I have no idea. Starfleet was always in the cards for me. Ever since I was a kid. I just wanted to help protect people. If Starfleet hadn’t been an option… I don’t know where I would have gone… This is my calling. She understood that. Peri had never given quite so much thought to her life beyond Starfleet. She’d been born into it, lived it, and now pursued it as a further course for her life. How she would have elected to enter into the service had changed, but she had never doubted that she would remain with Starfleet. Katsim: We have that in common. The Prophets had led her there, to the Thor, to mingle in the lives of those who served upon her. Some things had changed, some had remained consistent, and whatever they decided, wherever they moved her next, she had to trust in them, though she prayed for their guidance and asked for their favour in answering the desires of her heart. But for the moment, she remained in uncertainty, but she couldn’t let it cloud her time. Already she had spent too much on it, and realised that she focused on the wrong thing. So she shifted course and centred on the moment, particularly on him. Their conversation drifted from one thing to another as they traversed along the trail, which angled upwards, increasing in difficulty until words spoken died upon their lives to make way for the panting breath that came as a result of the exertion, but even more so, for the contemplative ponderings that the scenery spurred on both their parts. And as they moved forward physically, something seemed to happen spiritual. Wes’ steps seemed lighter, perhaps Peri’s too less heavy and weary. The briskness of the air and the beauty around them easily buoyed their spirits, but perhaps there was more to it than merely that. Hours trickled by, and the trail continued to wind through the kingdom of trees, thin, bristled giants, their pointed capts spearheading into the sky, the deep fragrance of pine musk filling their lungs.As they move forward something shifted, and that scent was accompanied by something else. It spurred the little dragon to pop up her head and even Peri had a sense of something coming, something wonderful. Wes’ exuberance, though silent was still palpable, and that alone spurred her feet onward with a sense of haste. The trial curved, but he came to a halt turn his wide smile toward Peri, a smile that had become so familiar and comforting in the almost two years she had known him. That expression alighted on his face, drawing away the years and replacing it with a youthfulness borne of delight and remembrance. Greaves: Okay, we’re almost here. Your surprise awaits around the corner. Katsim: What is it? And just as she had done to him, Wes refused to give an inkling as to what he wished to show her. Nodding, she glanced around her, knowing that he was sharing something of himself just as she had with him, a piece of his past, and as he took joy in it, so she took joy in his. Greaves: It’s one of my favorite places on Earth. You’ll see. Katsim: All right. Then let’s go. His grin did not falter as he reached out to take her hand with an eagerness that belied his age, and she in turn responded with the same enthusiasm, her pace matching his own as he drew her along. Hand in hand, they took the bend, her fingers curled and tightening as if to hold on not only to him, but to that moment in time where they were linked in jubilant harmony. Feeding off the emotional waves cast between them, the dragon took advantage of that link, darting off of Wes and over to Peri’s shoulder, her chirps and clicks a singsong cadence to their steps, only to turn around and dance over the bridge formed between the two and repeat the harmonic phrase. Back and forth until finally she came to rest upon the weaving of their hands, it was at that moment that the trail widened and the treeps parted ways to reveal a large clearing around which the sentinels of the pines stood, an army that brushed against the heel of the mountain. The grey and white, cold and stark against the darker tones of emerald and hunter green contrast sharply, yet to have one without the other would have been blasphemy. Blue spread its warmer haze over the crest of the mountain, then stretched wide from edge to edge to edge to edge, an infinite coverlet over it all. At the foot of the trees, the foundation of the little world to which Wes had brought her, a lake shimmered, so crystalline and clear that it was more a mirror than pool, reflecting all the beauty around and captured in its surface. Greaves: (Quietly) Surprise. Katsim: Oh! Peri breathed, the only verbal response she could offer. Different from Bajor, yet undeniably just as beautiful, she stared at the scene, unwilling, perhaps even unable to do anything for a moment when presented with a piece of heaven an splendor. Her hand gripped Wes’ a little more tightly, her dark eyes slowly slipped across the scene as if she were afraid she might miss something of the display and lose the chance to take it in. Greaves: Response Katsim: It’s…it’s *lovely*. The water, abundant and pure, rippled lightly as a breeze took to the wing and dipped its fingers over the surface, turning the reflection to a misty blurr, as if a magical mist had come over it. Echo glided off of her pedestal and dropped to the edge, dipping her head into it for a long, cold drink. Katsim: And…I have to admit to a wrong. Greaves: Response Her eyes shifted again, that time, away from what was presented and to the presenter, her lips curling up into a broad smile of her own. Katsim: I thought no place could be as beautiful as Bajor, but you have proven otherwise. Greaves: Response -- Lt. Katsim Peri Chief Science Officer USS 'Oumuamua M239008AD0

Fresh from solving mysteries set on ancient Earth on the Holodeck, Ulasso liked his 1900s Earth fashion from the holo program a little too much. He decided to have a similar ensemble made for the Awards ceremony.

Congratulations @Corliss! Your story was amazing!

I had a note to put this one to appreciations as well, but you beat me to it. I loved reading this. I thought it gave great insight into how the character was dealing with supposed failure during our last mission.

This is @Alora DeVeau's sim for Katsim Peri. I was new to the Thor and only served for one mission, so I enjoy reading how others who were on the ship longer are processing leaving the ship behind for the time being. I especially enjoyed this one. ((USS Thor - Katsim’s Quarters)) She was just a ship. A machine. A vessel constructed to be used for the advantage of those who guided her through the paths among the stars. A slab of metal that had been melted and fashioned, hammered and cut with all the modern tools that Starfleet had to offer, sleek lines and powerful drives that propelled her forward and speeds thought impossible only a few hundred years prior. And she had woven her way through the Galaxy, protecting the precious cargo within. And it was there that she became more than a machine. Though she did not breathe, she uttered a constant, steady hum to lull that soothed her passengers. Though she had no heart, her core beat with a firm, constant beat. Though she had no bones, she creaked and groaned at times in protest. In many ways, she was very much alive, a part of the crew, the life and breadth that brought them all together, the spindle that wove the thread of commonality into a strength of familiarity. She had carried them, guarded them, and fought for them. And now? Now those polished hulls and smooth arcs had been torn asunder. The deep ebony of her form had been struck and the lights that glittered all about her, like strings of glistening jewels, had been dimmed. The wings that had once borne them through the heavens had been clipped. Now she was a shadow of her former glory, forced to endure the humiliation of the necessity of being dragged behind another of her kin. Her bowels were no less chaotic, the evidence of her torture manifest everywhere one looked. Nothing was untouched, and the wounds of battle visible no matter where one looked. Peri had requested that she be transported over, the need to see what remained far too great, mainly of her own belongings. There was not much, but what she did have was significant. She materialized not in her room itself, but in the hallway just outside, debris scattered about, wires exposed, some frayed, and she could smell the last remnants of energy upon the air. Remaining clear of the components showing she turned to the door. It had been damaged, one panel somehow half crumpled, but the other seemed as if it had been spared anything at all save for a small mark in its finish. Between the two, there was just enough space for her to insert herself and get stuck. Echo, a constant companion, chirped encouragement, and Peri heaved and pushed. Bracing her feet, she groaned with effort and a moment later, the panel groaned with her, then gave in and slid open. Inside was no better than out, the damage great in its extent. The beds that had lined the walls, one to the right, the other to the left, were nothing more than twisted bits of metal, several of their beams snapped in two, and the jagged edges jutted upward in stark reminder of their brokenness. For a moment, Peri merely stood there, barely past the threshold, surveying what had once been her quarters. Carefully picking her way forward, she paused only a couple of feet inside, then bent down to pick up what had once been a frame, but now was merely a remnant shard. Sighing softly, she tossed it aside, then continued forward, then suddenly stopped again and let out a soft cry. She could see her things, tossed about. Fabric was torn asunder as the trunk in which they had resided had given way to the thrashing it had received. The silk, both metres and threads, had been tossed and throttled, and remnants were scattered everywhere, their fraying ends speaking to their ruin. Reaching down, she found a larger piece in particular from a half finished hanging that she had been making for the upcoming wedding between Elizabeth Snow and her intended, Lephi. It was now ruined, and no amount of craftsmanship could mend it. Shoulders slumped and her hand released what she had worked so hard on, and it fell limp back onto a small pile of debris. And then she saw it, a corner, the darkened edge peeking out from the contorted forms of metal and she pressed forward, pushing things aside, clamoring over others until he could reach the spot where it lay. Pulling a large, bent beam from one of the beds, Peri moved it just enough to reveal what it attempted to hide. Quickly, she tugged and pulled and finally wrestled the box from the confines of the wreckage, and immediately turned it over in her hands. Beaten. Outside, it had taken just as much as everything else. Scratches and dents marred the formally smooth, dark grey, and a slash on one great edge had been cut deeply. Fingers fumbled with the latches, bent and bowed, yet somehow they had clung together. A few moments later, she was able to pry it open, and upon seeing the contents, another cry was released - but that one was of relief, for there within, nestled in the protective cushioning lay the candelabra that had allowed her to count and focus her prayers. Lifting it, she turned it over and over, studying every inch, then breathed a prayer of thanks. It was a small thing, perhaps insignificant to many, and technically replaceable - but Peri had spoken a thousand prayers upon it, had uttered words of her faith, called out for aid in her doubts, and had breathed the depths of her sorrows with it as a guide and focus when communing with the prophets. Of all that she owned, it was her most precious possession. Despite the damage to the case, it was still the best way to protect the item, so Peri returned it to the nest, and closed it as best she could. Rising, she took another look around her, at what was left of her room. No, not her room. She could no longer call it that. That was gone, and she had been given a new one, one that remained intact and unbroken, devoid of the chaos and devastation that surrounded her. She had what she came for, yet she couldn’t help but hesitate and linger, though after a few moments, the dragonet upon her shoulder chirped again, as if to remind her that this had to be left behind. That they had to return. Biting her lower lip, Peri still hesitated, and she gazed about her, as if trying to put everything back where it once was, where it had been before. But it was impossible. No imaginings could refashion all that had been wrecked, and nothing she could do could turn back time to set all as it was. Finally, slender fingers lightly tapped her badge and the connection was made. Her soft voice requested transport for a return. And as she heard the hollow sound and the light filled her vision, she watched it all fade away into brilliant blue, everything overcome with that luminous hue, drowned into oblivion and replaced with the new, the hale, and whole. Stepping down, she cast a small smile toward the transporter chief, but could not help but let her eyes shift to the transporter pad. It stood there, waiting for those who would utilise it, others who had come to do the same as she had done, to go back, to seek, hopefully to find. But what would they find? If they were fortunate, remnants of their belongings, something to hold onto, to return with. But ultimately, they could not return to what once was. All they could do was gather the remains of the shattered. All they could do was move forward. All they could do was let go. Taking a deep breath, Peri clutched the rescued case to her chest and hurried away. Yet, some things couldn’t be let go. Some things could not be so easily forgotten. Some things would remain a constant, and in that she had hope and faith, in that she had trust. Making her way through the hall and to a lift, she gave a command, that for the deck where she was temporarily housed. The computer complied, the hum began, though it was of a different pitch and temperament than what she had grown accustomed to. It carried her off, then stepped and let her out at the desired level, and but a moment later, Peri was in her quarters. Once inside, Echo launched from her shoulder and settled upon the back of the couch where took up a perch and placed the case upon the small table in front of it. Opening it, she examined once more the gentle curves of the candelabra, and gingerly fingered the column. In all the change, in all the tumult, there was so much uncertainty, so much disorder, but there was one thing she knew, one thing that was constant. Whatever happened, whatever was thrown into her path, Peri would always be able to look to the Prophets, for they would always care for her own. They would always care for her. And they would never let go.

Thank you! I had a lot of fun writing this character. Looking forward to simming for some other NPC type characters in the future.

Ulasso sat on his bed in his quarters for the first time in over a week. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. The last mission had taken them to hell and back again, and now that he wasn't running on pure adrenaline, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He felt like he should still be on the bridge, that the danger wasn't over and he would be needed any second. He had been ordered to get some rest, and boy was he tired, however he found his mind wandering. He reached under his bed and pulled out a small wooden box. Ulasso ran his hand over the smooth, sanded wood of the cover. It was Rowan wood, a pale yellow brown, with spots of deeper brown from where the heartwood had been used in the crafting of the box. He had been given the box upon his graduation from Starfleet Academy by his only friend there, V'Len Kel. V'Len had been assigned to the U.S.S Thor and had given Ulasso the box as a parting gift. Kel had wanted him to try and obtain a posting on the Thor as well. He had informed Ulasso that the box was made of Rowan wood, and that in ancient Human Greek mythology, it was a Rowan tree that had saved the life of the god, Thor. Thor had grabbed ahold of a Rowan tree while being swept away in a river to the Underworld. V'Len had told him he thought it would bring him luck if we were to join the Thor. The box only contained a few items. He reached past a photo of himself and V'Len at graduation and a pressed Fire Flower from his home world, Lyaksti'kton, recognized as Alpha Sauria IV by the Federation. His hand grasped the next item, a small pint of Saurian Brandy. He took the bottle out and held it in his hands for a couple minutes, rolling it back and forth, fighting an internal battle within his mind. He finally took the lid off and took a swig. He felt the liquid run down his throat, and he felt warmth within his chest that seemed to blossom out like a flower of fire. It relaxed him slightly, and gave him the courage to reach for the last item in the Rowan box. Ulasso's hand moved cautiously towards the small piece of torn yellow cloth, as if the item might become sentient, grow teeth, and take a bite out of his finger. Honestly, he would welcome that physical pain over the mental anguish that came with this particular article of clothing. "The pain never goes away, you just learn to live with it," V'Len had told him once when they were deep in their cups. The cloth was faded yellow, with a floral design of the Fire Flowers from his own planet. He raised it to his nostrils and took in the smell that still lingered there, that seemed to hang onto the clothing no matter how much time had passed. The scent flooded his six nasal cavities. The olfactory signals activated his limbic system and he was taken to a moment from his past. A moment that was captured in his mind like a holodeck simulation, and he remembered almost every detail, all anchored by this piece of cloth. "The texture of their shirt...I'll never forget the way if felt in my hand that day." He thought to himself. He had grabbed at her shirt to try and stop her from going over the cliff's edge. The shirt was homemade, and the cloth was thin and soft. She had made it herself, and had been wearing it as a means of silent protest to the Warrior Caste she had been born into. The Warrior Caste demanded clothing that wasn't made for comfort, but rather durability, and yellow was not an approved color. He often wondered if she had been wearing her training uniform, maybe the cloth wouldn't have torn, and he could have saved her. They had been raised together in the Saurian warrior caste, and while Ulasso had taken to it with no problem, she had never seemed to believe in the extremely rigid doctrine that they were demanded to follow. She believed in free thinking, and that no one person or group's philosophy should ever be followed without question. The elders had tried over and over to put her in line, and Ulasso had pleaded with her repeatedly to stop, as he knew deviation from order resulted in swift, and sometimes brutal punishment. It was after the latest of these horrible punishments that Ulasso had found her standing on the edge of the cliff, with a sea of Fire Flowers behind her. The spot they used to come and play as children. He had been informed by their father that she was to be ostracized. Ulasso's four hearts had dropped at the news. Community was everything to a Saurian, and without it they were lost. The few Saurians he had heard of receive this punishment had chose death as preference to a life in solitude. He ran to her as fast as he could, the field of Fire Flowers giving the illusion of burning flames as their petals took in the full red light of the class M star the planet orbited and were illuminated. He ran across the sea of fire, towards he silhouetted form at the cliffs edge with her back to him, the red light of the star directly behind her. He screamed her name over and over, and she turned and gave him a look that broke his heart. He lunged to grab her as she stepped forward and caught the back of her shirt. Time seemed to stand still for a second, and then the shirt tore and she fell into the darkness. No Rowan tree saved her like it had Thor in the story V'Len had told him. It was because of her he had joined Starfleet. She may have passed away physically, however he could keep her alive by living her ideals and dream. His younger sister, Ulaini, his Fire Flower. He had nicknamed her that because she was small for a Saurian, more delicate that others due to some physical birth defects, but see had a passion for free-thinking that couldn't be extinguished, like an uncontrollable fire that had threatened to consume her. Ulasso had turned inward after the event, once loving community and gatherings, but the loss of his sister had turned him stoic, with a face like flint. Ulasso clutched the cloth to his face, laid down on his bed and looked out the stars. In the seemingly infinite cosmos, we wondered how many others had lost someone. How many others would die for a dream, or live to keep one alive. He got up and went into the lavatory. He looked at himself in the mirror, his yellow eyes staring back at him. Ulaini had always told him to be proud of his yellow eyes, and that she thought they were beautiful. It was a recessive gene, and seen as undesirable within his town. A town of warriors who thought yellow eyes looked weak compared to the imposing black eyes that they mostly had. He looked at himself and wondered who he would have been if she was still alive. Here he was, living for her dreams, but what were his own? Who was he without his pain and loss? He knew he was competitive, when Ulaini and himself would play games he would do everything possible to win. She always said he should relax more and just enjoy playing the game. She had always wanted to creatively bend the rules which would nearly drive Ulasso to insanity. He believed in rules and structure, and he liked to win. That was part of who he was at his core. Ulaini's beliefs were those that all opinions should be considered, that a strict religious doctrine left little room for growth. Star Fleet fit both of these philosophies. No matter who he may have been, this is who he was now, a Starfleet officer. "She would be proud of who you have become" Ulasso said the words to his reflection, left the lavatory and went to the Rowan box beside his bed. He placed the other items in the box, and this time placed the piece of cloth on top. As he slid the box back underneath his bed. He walked over to the statues of Mellitt and Antidis, the brother and sister founders of the Saurian race, and said a silent prayer. As he finished, his communicator badge chirped. =/\= Ensign Ulasso, report to the bridge. =/\= =/\= On my way, sir. =/\= It would seem rest still eluded Ulasso, but for now he may have finally found some peace. Ensign Ulasso, (HCO) Officer USS Thor T239902U11