Whale

(( Captain's Ready Room, USS Victory )) :: The morning crisis managed for the most part, T'tala found a seat, breathing out a long sigh. Did Captain Riley live a life like this? She had a personal assistant, too, a Gideon like the Chief of Science... they were rare, from what T'tala understood- uncommon on Starfleet vessels. Perhaps that assistant felt as tired as T'tala did these days... :: :: With a few moments to think, she let her mind return to Pitik. His behaviour was out of character for him... yes, he was frightened, yes, it was something new... and while she had suspected he would leave, she never really thought he would. Or was that just being revisionist? To be honest, she wasn't sure anymore. :: :: She thought back to her conversation with Breeman... and her departure from the USS Independence. :: (( FLASHBACK: Starbase 118, two months ago )) :: They were in a coffee place, discussing their old wounds. Wounds that existed in the mind, rather than in the flesh... and how difficult they were to treat. :: Breeman: I was... held at knife point. It wasn't really an injury. It took a bit to get over though. :: T'tala's response was quite strong. She leaned forward, her dark eyes glinting in the light of the station. :: T'tala: If it took a while to get over, as you say, then it was an injury. Do not be dismissive of the harm it would have done to you. :: Her voice softened. :: T'tala: The mind is just like any other organ... it can be damaged, malfunction and- it can be treated. I do not see how some people can pin medals on the chest of physically wounded individuals... (( FLASHBACK within FLASHBACK: Sickbay, USS Independence-A, two months further ago )) ::Sidney patted the woman's shoulder, reached over to the surgical tray and grabbed a clean cloth. Taking it she wiped the woman's forehead gently.:: Riley: You rest, T'tala. You did all you can, now it is your turn to heal. I am proud to have you on my ship Crewman. I couldn't ask for a better crewman. ::She set a strong, comforting hand on the Vulcan's shoulder. Leaning down she whispered in the woman's ear so the others wouldn't hear.:: Don't worry, you'll see Danilo again. ::She squeezed T'tala's shoulder before she stood up, her voice now back to it's normal tone.:: You are both in capable hands Petty Officer, Third Class T'tala. (( Flashback within Flashback Ends )) :: She had been promoted from Crewman First Class to Petty Officer Third Class... yet had contributed absolutely nothing to the battle aside from being shot. She had not even fired once- Marari had cut her down like a stalk of wheat in a field, mowing through the Starfleet defenders, unflinchingly reaping a bloody harvest... :: :: T'tala had done nothing to earn the promotion, she felt. She had engaged in a sexual relationship with her direct superior, she had done nothing but nearly die... she hadn't even fired a single shot of her rifle. How was this praiseworthy? :: (( FLASHBACK within FLASHBACK: Shuttle Bay, USS Independence-A )) :: T'tala strode into the shuttle bay, surprised to see someone was already there. :: :: Lieutenant Alleran Tan stood, alone, a simple rucksack over his shoulder. The shuttle which would take them away was nearly here- obviously the Trill man was coming with T'tala, where-ever she was going. :: T'tala: Excuse me? :: Tan turned to her, seeming to smile widely- in relief?- before his face fell again. :: Tan: Oh. Hey.. Crewman T'tala, right? :: T'tala indicated her collar. :: T'tala: Petty Officer now, sir. You are Tan, yes? I saw you in the medical bay when Captain Riley was injured... :: Tan seemed to wince at the memory. :: Tan: Yes, that's me. I ... :: The Trill was misty-eyed. To T'tala, crying in public was terribly shameful, but Tan didn't appear to have such reservations. He let his tears show. :: Tan: I... I was surprised nobody came to see me off. Not one. I saw off Commander Reed, I saw off Commander Thelev, I saw off Commander Whale... I always made a point of saying goodbye to those who leave- but nobody came and saw me. Nobody. :: T'tala was very surprised. :: T'tala: I am... sorry. I heard you were involved with the Captain. Does this- :: Tan seemed angered. He shook his head, firmly. :: Tan: This has nothing to do with Sidney. T'tala: I apologize. :: Tan nodded, relaxing. :: Tan: It... is because I... I killed a man. :: T'tala inclined her head. :: T'tala: I see. Have you notified security, or did you want me to do that for you? :: Tan stared. :: Tan: No, I- during the Vaadwaur invasion of Deep Space 17. Six of them, actually, but only one up close. :: The Trill drew his arms around himself, seeking comfort from the action. :: Tan: I... I haven't coped well with the deed. I've been possessive, angry, snappish- I've been rude to my friends and careless with hearts more fragile than mine. T'tala: You are mentally wounded, then. :: The Trill considered this a moment. :: Tan: I never thought of it like that, but I suppose I am. The mind, I believe, is just like any other organ- it can be damaged... malfunction. It can be harmed. Yet it can also be treated too... :: T'tala liked that line. She would use it someday. :: T'tala: Why do you not seek treatment then? :: It was a simple question but one the Trill obviously had trouble answering. :: Tan: Because... because there is shame in it. :: T'tala didn't agree and it showed on her face. :: Tan: There is a... stigma that the mind is something that can be pushed and pushed, that any limits- any limits- are imposed only by the weakness of the soul... :: Warm tears ran down the Trill's face. T'tala remained shocked at how open he was about his feelings- for a Vulcan to do this, it would be... unthinkable. :: Tan: I suppose that's why none of the crew have come to see me off. Because... because- because I am mentally wounded... not physically wounded... :: There was a silence. :: Tan: N-nobody has come... (( Flashback within Flashback ends )) :: In T'tala's mind, Tan had performed admirably during Operation Bright Star. During the Second Battle of Eratis. He had endured a nine month deployment without a single word of complaint- he had been quartered in a shuttle due to overcrowding, he had been shot down and captured, tortured by the Vaadwaur... :: :: The Trill was a gentle soul- a person who hated death and killing- yet he had killed on command, as he was ordered. He had lead the air group against the Vaadwaur, a battle he personally did not want to fight. He had done everything requested of him. He had never disobeyed an order. Had formed close ties to the crew. Was a commonly spoken name on the ship. :: :: Yet because his wounds appeared in his mind instead of on his flesh, the crew had- apparently- treated him like a leper. :: T'tala: ... while dismissing those with mental wounds as "cowards". :: Her features hardened. :: T'tala: There is no shame in experiencing fear and distress when presented with ones own mortality... do not feel as though you need to hide your scars from me or anyone else. :: It was a bold statement, but the subject stirred T'tala to passion. :: :: She would now cry in public... if the situation warranted it. :: (( Flashback ends )) :: Sitting alone in the quiet ready room, T'tala opened her eyes. What was she going to do about Pitik...? :: :: The PADD beeped. Another message. T'tala spent several minutes dealing with a petty squabble between two of the enlisted crew (her responses basically amounting to 'Deal With It'), then returned to her personal thoughts. :: :: Pitik... :: :: She touched her combadge. :: T'tala: =/\= Petty Officer T'tala to Petty Officer Pitik. =/\= :: A long pause. Evidently Pitik was either having second thoughts or, for some reason, did not want to answer his combadge. :: Pitik: =/\= Pitik here. =/\= T'tala: =/\= The officers will be at the party tonight. I am free if you wished to discuss our situation for some time. =/\= :: Another long pause. :: Pitik: =/\= Sounds good. How about your quarters? 1900 hours? =/\= T'tala: =/\= As you wish. T'tala out. =/\= :: She had kept her tone frosty the whole time. Pitik's actions had harmed her... they had wounded her mind. She would not be so quick to let him back into her life, and if she did, it would be in a very different manner to the way she did before. :: :: Some things could be forgiven, moved past, ignored... some scars didn't fade. :: ----- PO T'tala Commander Jaxx's Assistant USS Victory. As simmed by, CPO Radi Rais Chief of Operations USS Victory

Thank you Mister Tan Though you shouldn't lie to people -- I do write the occassional "fecal" sim.

Congratulations and welcome to the fleet!

Man, this is going to be a tough choice. Especially considering I nominated both of them!

Congratulations and welcome to the fleet! Or welcome back, as the case may be

Heheh. Mister Tan, you are awesome.

Congratulations, Ensign - welcome to the fleet.

I expect not all of them were real Sometimes, if there aren't enough applicants to fill a class, existing members will step in to write a fake cadet, so the actual cadets have more people to sim with.

(( Flashback: Five Years Ago, Shuttle 3134 crash site )) :: Alleran Mapak didn't know what to do. The woman was dying. Her arm was severed, laying in a pool of blood. Her skin was a ghostly white. The medics worked on her, frantically, until finally the CMO gave up. :: CMO: That's it, she's too far gone. We're pulling the symbiont. :: The woman's head flopped weakly. She was still alive! :: Mapak: W-Wait- that woman's not d-dead yet! :: The CMO rolled his eyes. :: CMO: Doesn't matter, kid. She'll die from these wound- we can't get her to a medical facility in time. A pre-mortum extraction greatly decreases stress on the symbiont. That's what counts. :: He called over one of the three rescue party members, a human woman with dark black skin. :: CMO: Okay, I'm going to need twelve CC's of tetraphoramine- we'll trigger a chemical rejection and extract. Prep the status chamber. :: Alleran could barely watch- he'd only had a few words with this "Marlee" character, but already he liked her. She was kind and wise beyond even her considerable years. :: Nurse: Done. Okay, I'm going to extract it... careful, careful- give me a hand here. :: The two reached into the dying woman's pouch, extracting a short, stubby worm with a bleeding gash down its flank. :: CMO: [...]- there's a tear along the epidermis. It'll get infected... we can't move it like this. :: The Trill medical officer looked frustrated. :: CMO: How long until a transplant crew and new host can make it here? We need to transplant within four hours or the infection will be too severe. Nurse: At this distance... a couple of days, maybe more, assuming they left immediately. :: The Trill CMO growled angrily. He knew it wouldn't survive that long. He, himself, was joined- the one nurse was a human, the other had a medical condition which prevented joining. They'd discussed it at length several months previous. That only left... :: CMO: Hey, kid. You wanna live forever? :: Mapak's eyes went wide. They were offering him the symbiont? He glanced between the beautiful, slimy worm and its previous owner, who seemed to grow weaker and weaker. She held a look of... curiousity, as though trying to judge him. :: Mapak: I- I can't. Why don't y-you take it? CMO: I'm joined already, you idiot. And... yes, you can. You can. It's that or the symbiont dies. :: Mapak felt his panic well up in him. Take on the role of a host?! That wasn't possible! He was just a normal person- an everyday shuttle pilot, one of thousands all over this whole system. He wasn't any good academically, he wasn't smart or brave or wise or any of those things. Mapak: I'm not g-good enough- I'm not even a-an initiate! I can't! :: The CMO stepped up to him, thrusting the wounded symbiont at him once more. :: CMO: We can seal the wound, but it has to be implanted or neutral degradation will begin. If you REALLY can't stomach the idea, we'll look at a rapid extraction when we return. You'll probably survive. But you need to do this. :: The lives of the symbionts were paramount. Mapak knew that... everyone knew that. With a groan, he nodded his head. :: Mapak: O-Oh gods... :: He lay on his back, on the debris. The medical team went to work- the human nurse cut away his shirt while the Trill CMO worked some device over the symbiont. The bleeding stopped, thick scar tissue developing on the injury. He felt the humans hands- unnaturally warm, to the cool-handed Trill- lift the flap of skin over his pouch. He blushed furiously. A girl was touching him- a real girl! He couldn't believe it. :: :: The symbiont squirmed in the CMO's hands, apparently disliking the cool air. He placed it into the pouch, letting it squirm inside. For a moment, nothing happened. That was it? Mapak felt completely normal. He frowned. Huh? :: (( FLASH )) :: It was spring. The light blue leaves fell about the ground like snow- she was swinging on a swing set, wearing a tiny frilly dress. :: Marlee: Higher, higher! Zee: Okay, okay! :: Higher and higher she went. Then, something went wrong- she was falling through the air, screaming. THUD! Pain! Her arm- she looked at it. It was bent the wrong way at the elbow, bone poking through the skin. :: :: Zee shrieked. :: Zee: MUUUUM! MUUUUUUUM! MARLEE HURT HERSE- (( FLASH )) :: Marlee replicated an egg and placed it in her pocket. She replicated another one and placed it in her pocket as well. By the time she had half a dozen eggs, her mother caught her. :: Likanna: Marlee? What are you doing? :: Marlee looked proud. :: Marlee: I'm replicating eggs. I want to raise kiki chicks! :: Her mother shook her head. :: Likanna: Marlee, it doesn't work that- (( FLASH )) :: A school. A playground. Dozens of children pointed and laughed. :: Children: Marlee has mud fleas, Marlee has mud fleas! :: She screamed angrily. :: Marlee: I don't have mudfleas! :: Unable to face them, she ran from the playground, crying- :: (( FLASH )) :: The school again. Marlee was colouring something- a bright pink sun shining down on the blue soil. On the horizon, she drew the dark purple of the ocean. :: Teacher: ... curious, and quite gifted. I was thinking of adding her to the Trill host candidates shortlist... (( FLASH )) :: A different school. New and unfamiliar. Marlee shouldered her backpack, looking around. Where was she supposed to go? :: Student: Hey, freshman! Catch! :: A girl threw a thick cloth ball at her. She tried to catch it- but as she touched it, it burst and covered her in sticky sap. The older children ran away, leaving her covered in the messy juice. Her first day was ruined! :: (( FLASH )) :: She was laying on a bed in some teenager's room, looking up at a boy above her. He was cute. He knew he was cute, and it was his birthday... she could feel she was half dressed. She'd never done anything like this before with boys- she was frightened. :: Marlee: No, no... Jian: Come on baby... I love you. We'll be together forever. :: Marlee felt her heart melt. :: Marlee: Are you sure? I- I love you too, Jian-e... :: They kissed, her dress falling- :: (( FLASH )) :: Jian kissed the female freshman with the long dark hair behind the school's auxiliary block. Marlee came around the corner, right as he was grabbing her, kissing her- her face flushed with outrage, embarrassment. :: Marlee: What's going ON!? :: Jian looked to her, giving a cold laugh. :: Jian: Hey baby, sorry- forgot to tell you. Found someone better. ::He gave a little wiggle of his fingers- the other girl smirked nastily.:: ... you're dumped. :: She had given herself to him- and he'd just tossed her away like trash. Weeping, she stumbled back, then turned to run- :: (( FLASH )) :: Marlee flicked the pages on the book. She'd show that so-and-so... she'd be joined. She threw herself into her studies, ignoring everyone around her. :: Marlee: Waveform... for every Z over X, dx-dy over COS... (( FLASH )) :: She watched everyone else dance. A banner above her table read "GRAD CLASS OF 2260 - SEE U AT THE REUNION IN 2270!" A smaller one below that read: "GRATS 2 JIAN, ZEE AND MARLEE - GUD LUK AT HOST ACADEMY!". She didn't feel like joining in. Jian danced with some blonde bimbo who giggled as he kissed her. She'd never really gotten over him... :: (( FLASH )) :: The hovercar went sideways, rolling into a ditch. Marlee shrieked as the car turned over and over and over- finally coming to a stop. Trembling, she kicked open the door, climbing out into the fresh night air. The vehicle was a mess. She grabbed her hair. :: Marlee: My parents are going to KILL me... (( FLASH )) Jian: Baby, you know you want me again. :: He made another clumsy grope for her, splashing Trill honeymeed down her chest. They were at a party to celebrate the first year of the Trill joining academy classes. Jian was there, of course. His academic performance was nothing special, but with his father's position... :: Marlee: I said NO! :: She pushed him away again. :: :: Jian grabbed her wrist, yanking her towards him. His breath reeked of stale alcohol. :: Jian: NOBODY says no to ME! :: Marlee drew back and smashed her fist into his face, cracking his nose. With a spray of blood the young man collapsed, howling in pain. :: Marlee: Then it pleases me to be the first! You EVER touch me again, you slimeball, I'll make sure you- (( FLASH )) Defense council: As you can clearly see by the security holorecordings, the plaintiff clearly grabbed my client first. Jian: That's a lie! She came onto me, that whore- now she's trying to blackmail me! Marlee: That's not true at- (( FLASH )) Judge: Not guilty, by means of self defense. :: Marlee felt vindicated, but it was a hallow victory. Jian would never be a Trill host now after what happened- not even his father could prop him up anymore. But her own academic career had suffered to take time out for all this... she'd have a LOT of ground to make up. :: (( FLASH )) :: She tapped her PADD, reading from the huge textbook. :: Marlee: Warlord Naita was the first of the clan leaders to come to the table to sue for peace. Naita... Naita. :: She scribbled the name into a margin. :: Marlee: ... back in 1623, southern continent. She lead the strongest armies, and- (( FLASH )) :: Marlee kissed him, pushing him against the wall- he was blonde, slightly older than, very pretty and he seemed into her. The two fell onto her bed, quickly undressing. She grabbed him, holding him close, pushing him onto his back... :: (( FLASH )) :: The doctor laid down the PADD, smiling widely. :: Doctor: Yep, you're pregnant. About two and a half months along! Congratulations! :: Marlee was horrified. Her career was over- she'd never be a Trill host now, she couldn't possibly dedicate the amount of time needed to raising a small kid and maintaining the impossibly high standards of the joining committee. She didn't even have the guy's number anymore, and- :: (( FLASH )) :: She held her stomach, crying in pain. She had an exam in fourty minutes, but she'd come down with severe stomach pains. Her back hurt, her sides hurt- everything hurt. Doubled over in agony, fellow students rushed to her. :: Marlee: My exam! I need to go- nnnng! Student: You need a doctor, you're bleeding! (( FLASH )) Doctor: I'm sorry. It's just one of those things that happens... it wasn't your fault. Even with modern medicine, sometimes a fetus just can't be saved... :: She held her head in her hands. It wasn't the loss of the potential kid that wounded her- it was the fact she felt... :: ... she felt glad. That was the worst feeling of them all. That the death of her unborn child was a GOOD- :: (( FLASH )) :: Her mind was a blank. She couldn't even begin to know the answer. :: Computer: Multiple choice. USS Constitution, NCC-1604, completed its second refit on what stardate? A: 226509.11 B: 226509.12 C: 226509.13 D: 226509.14 E: 226509.15 F: 226509.16 G: 226509.17 H: 226509.18 :: She knew it was before the 16th, since that's when Captain Michael Fraser officially took command. She knew that the Constitution had issues with its warp drive that meant it was only completed a day- or was it two days?- before the Captain arrived. She had two choices. 13th... or the 14th. She knew that her entire host prospects depended on this question. If she got it wrong, she wouldn't score 100%... and why take anyone less than 100% when there were so many other candidates with 100%? Trembling, she completely guessed and circled the 14th... :: (( FLASH )) :: Marlee looked at the scoreboards for the year. The joining academy usually weeded out anyone who didn't score perfectly- every year there were more successful, "perfect" applicants than there were symbionts ready for transplant... so anything at all could disqualify you. :: XAI, MARLEE - 100% :: She pumped her fist into the air. YES! She'd done it! She was a successful applicant! Now all she had to do was get through the Trill Initiate program, and- :: (( FLASH )) Mentor: I'm failing you. :: Marlee gasped. It wasn't possible! She'd done everything right. She'd been always on time, always answering everything right... if her mentor failed her, that was it. Nobody, ever, had successfully reapplied to the joining commission after being rejected. :: Marlee: Why- WHY!? I've been the PERFECT student! I've- please! Mentor: I'm sorry. :: The older woman clasped her hands. :: Mentor: You have a lot to learn about being a Trill host. You're too passive. You have to assert yourself, or the host will overwhelm you. Marlee: No- give me another chance, I'll be assertive- I promise! Mentor: No. Marlee: YES! :: She had such passion and conviction. Jian wouldn't get the best of her- not after she'd come so far... done so much, thrown her whole life into this program... :: Mentor: ... very well. I'll reconsider. For the moment, however, coffee. Black. :: She practically sprinted away to fetch-:: (( FLASH )) :: It was a new host. Marlee's shoulders fell. No- she wanted an old host! An experienced host- the Mar symbiont, maybe, or the Dax- but not an unknown! Not this "Tan", a host with no lives yet! It wouldn't be the same. It was... subpar and she knew it. :: Council: So you see, you have a choice. You can take this new host, now, or you can wait until another appears. I warn you... you should consider taking this offer. A new host is a way for you to make your mark on the host- your thoughts and memories will live on for well after a thousand years. You'll be giving something fascinating to all the women and men who will subsequently bear the name "Tan". :: She desperately wanted to be joined. Anything would do at this point. :: Marlee: I accept. I'm ready when you are. (( FLASH )) :: Marlee Tan felt empowered. Nothing like this had ever felt this good- not even punching Jian in the face. She went out and bought herself a new dress- time to get rid of that ratty old wardrobe. She was a JOINED Trill now, she should dress appropriately! :: :: On her way home, she thought about what she would do. Her actions over the next few years would shape the very core of the Tan symbiont- it was a fresh slate. Something new. Something different. She wouldn't have to worry about a Zhian'tara or anything silly like that- the world was her oyster... :: (( FLASH )) :: Marlee tapped her console. :: Tan: I found them. Bearing... 168 mark 001. It could be Romulans. Captain: Romulans? Nobody's seen them before... see if we can make contact. :: Marlee worked the science console, trying to boost the sensor gain. The sensor target wobbled, then vanished. :: Tan: No, nope... I lost them. Sorry ma'am. Captain: Okay. Helm, come about- (( FLASH )) :: The search and rescue mission dragged on and on, but to Marlee the cause seemed hopeless. :: Tan: Fifteenth sensor sweep completed, Captain. Once again... no sign of the USS Ackerman. If they're out here, ma'am, they're not showing up on any of our sensors. This was the last sector... :: The Captain nodded. :: Captain: We're staying on until we're told to leave. We're not leaving the crew of the Ackerman behind. We'll find them, don't you worry- (( FLASH )) :: Marlee's jaw dropped. :: Tan: You're... you're breaking up with me? :: The dark haired man nodded. :: Likaran: I'm sorry, Marlee. Long distance isn't working out... Tan: You said you'd try! You said you'd make the effort! I can't leave the ship- we're explorers, in the real, genuine sense- we've made first contact with two whole alien species while we're out here, and we haven't even gotten half way through our-... :: Marlee's voice trailed off. The man on the other end of the signal sighed, shaking his head. :: Likaran: Sorry... it's not going to work- (( FLASH )) Zee: Happy birthday! :: Marlee smiled, blowing out the candles. :: Zee: So, the big Four-Oh. How're you handling it, Marlee? :: She gave a playful smile. :: Tan: I'm doing just fine. I love being single, it's the life! Zee: Yeah, well, that [...] of a husband left me last year. :: Marlee was aghast. :: Tan: What-?! He did what?! No way! :: Zee smiled and rolled her eyes. :: Zee: Men, huh? Tan: Yeah- men... sheesh. (( FLASH )) :: Tan and Zee walked through the garden, holding hands. The two had spent a lot of time together recently. A bit TOO much. :: Tan: So, hey. Zee: Hey. Tan: This is... fun. Zee: Fun. :: The two Trill women kissed again. Blue leaves fell all around them. It was autumn... a perfect moment. Marlee reached into her pocket, pulling out a small Trill-oak box. She held it out to the woman. :: Tan: Will you marry me? Zee: Oh, silly girl, I thought you'd never ask. (( FLASH )) Zee: You're leaving again? :: Marlee sighed, rolling her eyes. :: Marlee: It's where the job takes me, Zee. :: The other Trill woman stood, throwing her hands in the air. Zee: Where the job takes you?! What about US. What about the FUTURE! Did you look into the donor information? :: They'd discussed starting a family. It would require a donor- neither of them had any male friends close enough to do the job and they were both in their mid fourties now... medical intervention would be preferable to doing things "the old fashioned way" with a stranger. Marlee, however, was reluctant. :: Marlee: I didn't get around to it. Zee: Oh, gee, what a SHOCK- (( FLASH )) :: Dear Marlee, :: :: I loved you, but you never had time for me. :: Your work always took you so far away and I :: couldn't obviously give you what you wanted. :: :: I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I know :: that you always preferred to deal with your :: problems up front, but... I just had to tell you. :: Your ship wouldn't be back on Trill for almost :: a month, so accordingly... I filed for divorce :: last month. I found someone new... :: :: This might be difficult for you to hear, but I'm :: pregnant. I was going to name her after your- (( FLASH )) :: Marlee pointed to the drone laying on the ground. It seems the neural poison was working- this time. She knew from experience that they would quickly adapt... it wouldn't work a second time. :: Tan: We're going to need to move fast if we want to extract its neural processor. We need to find out what this drone's been up to. :: Her team crowded around the stunned drone. :: Tan: Doctor, begin the incisions. Move from the middle of the solar plexus downwards, about seven centimeters. We want a nice clean opening to get the datafeed interface through. Come on, move like you've got a purpose people! (( FLASH )) Tan: Picard's been assimilated? :: Marlee sat down. She couldn't stand very much these days- she was getting old, her body starting to feel the effects of her age. :: :: The man on the other end of the uplink nodded. :: Matthew: Just yesterday. They snatched him right off the bridge of his ship. :: Marlee shook her head. :: Tan: That's not possible. The Enterprise-D is state of the art, there's just no way- (( FLASH )) :: Tan sighed, rolling her eyes. She was tired... travelling by shuttlecraft wasn't her preferred method of getting around, but sometimes you just did what you had to do. :: Mapak: We'll b-be departing in approximately f-five minutes. Please ens-sure you are f-familiar with a-all the emergency e-exits on this shuttlecraft, w-which of which may be b-behind you... :: She muttered in annoyance. That pilot's stammer was annoying. Why didn't he just get it fixed? Stammering was a simple neurological condition, it was relatively easy to treat in adults... :: :: She pulled out her PADD. At least she could get some work done... :: (( FLASH )) :: The pilot looked absolutely terrified. :: Mapak: We're going down! T-the ionic storm j-just didn't appear on sensors! :: Marlee held on to the side of her seat. The shuttle shook and rocked, shedding debris as it plummeted through the atmosphere. With a horrific crash it smashed into the tree-covered ground of the moon, rolling over and over and over as it broke into tiny pieces. Marlee felt a stinging pain in her arm, then- :: (( FLASH )) Mapak: Oh gods, o-oh gods, oh gods... :: She opened her eyes, groaning loudly. There was sunlight streaming in through the holes in the hull. She felt dizzy and cold... her arm stung. Glancing over, she could see it had been torn off. :: Tan: ... [...]. :: The pilot was standing over her, apparently busily freaking out. :: Mapak: You're bleeding- your-your arm! Your arm! Hang on, I'll grab s-something to try a-and staunch t-the... (( FLASH )) CMO: Okay, I'm going to need twelve CC's of tetraphoramine- we'll trigger a chemical rejection and extract. Prep the status chamber. :: She was dying. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be- it was painful, sure, but she was in shock. It didn't feel so bad... she had no regrets. She felt the drug coursing through her body- she felt her symbiont wiggle inside her pouch. :: Nurse: Done. Okay, I'm going to extract it... careful, careful- give me a hand here. :: She laid her head back, feeling the human's warm hands slide into her pouch. The chemical began to do its work, slowly letting the symbiont detach itself. Then, when the moment came, it was-:: (( Flood of memories ends )) :: Tan gasped, holding his belly. The symbiont's memories flooded into him all at once, expanding his mind. He was suddenly a hundred and a bit years older... with all the memories, feelings and emotions that conveyed. He'd been married. He'd been in love. He'd been married, then divorced. He'd been a young girl and an old woman... he'd been a scientist, a mathematician, a programmer, a researcher, a wife, a field xenobiologist... and now he was a pilot. He lay there for a long time, getting used to the sensation. It was... amazing. :: Tan: Wow... just, wow. This is... this is something else. :: His new life began from this moment. :: End Lt (jg) Alleran Tan Helm/CAG USS Independence-A

((USS Constitution-B - T'Lea's Quarters)) :: Pink. The color was everywhere.:: :: Wrong quarters? Maybe. Did she care? Nope.:: :: Disgusting pink glared so brightly in T'Lea's face that she literally had to cover her eyes, and in doing so she almost missed the fact that Sylak, a full-blooded Vulcan male was standing in the room waiting patiently for her.:: :: Her first response to him should have been, "what the frak are you doing here?" followed by a swift boot out of the front door, but T'Lea could hardly form a thought let alone a polite sentence:: Sylak: T'Lea. I am here to answer your call. ::[...]ing a Vulcan brow at her demeanor:: Blood fever runs high in you. Why have you not yet taken a bond-mate? T'Lea: Frakking Trill, THAT'S WHY! :: Using the wall to guide her into her bedroom, she could hardly stomach all the pink in her quarters. Had Sylak done this to woo her? Pink, carpet. Pink drapes. Pink paint on the walls. Pink sofa. Pink shelves. Pink miniature tea set to replace her dinner table. Pink pumpkin carriage/bed-thingy in her bedroom. It was a big massive pink nightmare!!:: Sylak: Hmm. perhaps I may be of assistance. I have a proposal to make. :: One hand clinging to the door way in her bedroom, T'Lea's head hung low as if giving up the fight for the bond-mate she desired. As Sylak spoke calmly and logically she listened with what was left of her Vulcan mind, and then accepted his offer.:: ((Not much later)) :: Emerging from the nauseatingly pink bedroom, Sylak was fully clothed and pulling around his outer Vulcan robe when the front door opened to emit a rather shocked looking Trill woman. Nodding her way, Sylak tied the robe off.:: Sylak: Greetings. I have finished. You may enter. Vetri: What the... She's finally flipped, hasn't she? Sylak: ::furrowing his Vulcan brow at the woman:: Flipped? No, there was no flipping involved. I was very careful with her. I am a professional, after all. :: Dragging her eyes off of the drastically changed decor, Della finally noticed the fact that the Vulcan was calmly rearranging his clothing. Combined with the words that had just come out of his mouth, this did not go down well. Without thinking at all, she snapped out with a foot, scoring a distressingly well-aimed kick that only missed castration by a milimeter.:: :: Grabbing a handful of Sylak's hair as he went down, she dragged his head up to look at her as her voice slipped into a thoroughly unfriendly hiss.:: Vetri: Careful with *what*? :: Caught completely by surprise with Della's response, Sylak's pain sensors nearly went atomic the instant he was struck. The uncomfortable pulling of his hair and his arched neck paled in comparison to what was happening elsewhere. Still, as a pureblooded Vulcan it didn't take long to purge the horrible aggression he had been dealt.:: Sylak: ::looking up at the woman:: Neuropressure. Intended to subdue. The symptoms. Of. Plak tow. :: By the sound of his chopped speech perhaps the pain wasn't completely purged.:: :: For a long, dangerous moment, there was no reaction at all, then every shred of hostility in Della's attitude simply vanished without warning.:: Vetri: Really? That was probably a good idea. ::releasing his hair and letting him slump to the deck:: You might want to go get that seen to. :: Humming cheerfully to herself, she ambled over to the bedroom door, pausing to look over her shoulder at him.:: Vetri: Go on, shoo. :: The only reason he was still hanging around was because he couldn't quite move yet, and Sylak was going to warn the woman that the neuropressure didn't work. She would find that out soon enough, he thought stumbling toward the exit.:: :: Confident that he'd taken the hint, Della slipped through the door, coming to a sharp halt when the scene revealed hit her.:: :: A fairytale princess bedroom awaited, complete with matching castle-shaped dresser, nightstand and frilly lamp with dangling tassels. T'Lea's bed had been replaced with a big round pumpkin-shaped bed that doubled as a royal carriage. The walls were adorned with unicorn and rainbow wallpaper. A magic mirror was set to one side. And last but not least the entire floor was covered in a hideous furry pink carpet.:: :: Amidst all the atrocities of pink, T'Lea paced the fuzzy floor in her bare feet, tightly wrapped in - you guessed it - a pink fluffy robe, mumbling incoherent thoughts and death threats to nobody in particular. Crossing to the window she balled a fist and pounded violently on the glass several times trying to break it, trying to escape the insanity threatening her mind. The sedative was subsiding and her strength was returning enough to cause her hand discomfort as she repeatedly hit the thick window. The only reason she stopped pummeling the glass was because she happened to see the reflection that her fist was slamming into.:: :: Opening her hand she put her palm against the faint image in the glass, and leaned her forehead into it. Crazily enough she may have been trying to meld with the reflection. And crazily enough it was kind of beautiful, set against the backdrop of the planet they were orbiting.:: T'Lea: ::softly:: Della. k'hat'n'dlawa. :: Accepting the ghostly image in the window as another stage of blood fever, T'Lea squeaked her sweaty little hand off the glass and turned, planting her back against the window just as Della spoke.:: Vetri: I thought you were staying with Ben'thal? :: Anger. Joy? Possibly a strange mix of the two coursed through T'Lea's veins. Plastering her body against the window, fingers digging into the glass, big fuzzy pink robe contrasting against the heat burning in her eyes, T'Lea held herself still with whatever will-power she had left.:: :: One word was all she could manage to answer with.:: T'Lea: ::gruff:: No. Vetri: Good. I've *finally* had a chance to think, and now I've got something to say - and you're frakking well going to listen without whining. T'Lea: ::grinding her teeth:: You shouldn't be here. ::backing harder into the glass as Della approached:: Don't- :: The little piece of T'Lea that wanted to protect the Trill from *herself* was overruled, and the rest of her sentence, "don't come any closer", died in her throat.:: :: Crossing the fairly short distance that separated them, Della took hold of T'Lea's hand, lifting it to place a kiss softly on her palm before resting it against her cheek.:: Vetri: Yes. :: The gesture, small and sweet, everything T'Lea wasn't right now, shocked the hybrid's system into a near mental meltdown when Della's lips touched her hand. And if that wasn't enough of a mind-blowing cataclysm, the placement of T'Lea's hand dangerously close to melding position on Della's face had the hybrid's brain defaulting back to scared-stupid.:: :: With her hand lightly pressed against Della's cheek, and a few puzzled blinks later, one word tumbled out of T'Lea's mouth in a stupor of dumbness.:: T'Lea: Huh? Vetri: ::exasperated:: Oh, for... Hello! What have you been bugging me about all day!?! :: A more aware and more serious look set in T'Lea's eyes, and she snapped up the woman's face in both hands bringing her to within an inch of passion, or death.:: T'Lea: You accept? :: With a crooked smile, Della rolled her eyes at the intensity in the other woman's voice.:: Vetri: Duh... T'Lea: ::unbelieving:: Do not frak with me Trill. Vetri: Wasn't plannin' on it. :: Holding back a tidal wave of emotion, T'Lea roughly lifted Della's hand to her face and hurried to place it in the proper melding position as she did the same. Frantically rampaging through old memories the hybrid dug deep in the recesses of her cluttered mind to come up with the correct words for the bonding and marriage ritual. Even though she was still suffering a torrential downpour of emotion, getting this right and proper was more important than anything right now, even her own health. And that only verified again that she was too messed up to realize how poorly thought out that thought really was. Still, this bonding wasn't about adolescent curiosity, or an accidentally forged union. This was pon farr. Her first. She had reached the age of maturity. And this was about fulfilling something much deeper than she could have ever imagined.:: T'Lea: ::wringing out the words:: T'Lea, daughter of Keros and Raivus, I am prepared for bonding. ::groaning at the rising flame inside, a flame as unforgiving as the Vulcan lava pits:: Della Vetri, daughter of. :: Her mind completely drew a big honkin' blank, which showed so clearly on her face that Della was almost tempted to smile.:: Vetri: Lyssa and Roget. T'Lea: Are you prepared for bonding? :: And that was the question, wasn't it? If she'd ever really considered pairing up with someone for keeps again, this sure wasn't how she would have imagined it. Thing was... now the moment was upon her, Della couldn't really imagine being anywhere else. Carefully taking a breath, and trying real hard to keep her voice calm and level, she managed a coherent answer.:: Vetri: I am. :: Ignoring the abnormally fast beating heart in her chest and build-up of anticipation, the hybrid's hand gently shook against Della's face. Now was the burden of T'Lea's own body and mind reaching a climax of being at odds with each other. Suddenly it felt like the entire weight of the planet Vulcan threatened to crush her if she didn't quench the fire.:: T'Lea: ::racing through the words quickly and out of breath:: Repeat after me. Kashkau -- wuhkuh eh teretuhr -- Estuhn wi ri estuhn -- k'wuhli wi ri k'wuhli. :: With an odd sense of calm that was totally at odds with what she could feel radiating off of T'lea like a furnace, Della did as she was told. The words felt strange as she said them, Vulcan not sitting especially easily on her tongue, but she managed to get through it all without mangling it *too* badly.:: T'Lea: ::slower but just as urgent:: Our minds, one and together. Touching, yet not touching; apart, yet never apart. :: Again, Della repeated the words, feeling them settle upon her, seeming to settle *into* her. A silent, still, breathless moment passed. T'Lea's body swayed a little before a shift in physical vibrations had both women stepping forward to close the gap between them. Another warm span of quiet passed and all the galaxies seemed to stop and simply fade away. Nothing except the two of them existed, and even that was about to change.:: :: As T'Lea's mind began to swim up for air, her thoughts untangled and soon half of the hybrid's burden had been lifted and laid on Della.:: T'Lea: <<We are one.>> :: The fact that T'Lea's voice didn't bother with passing through her ears simply didn't register with Della - of far greater import right now was the fact that her whole body suddenly felt like it was on fire. She'd been taught to spot the signs, to know what she had to do to help someone in this state, but at this very moment she was busy trying to maintain some kind of control - and also being impressed that T'Lea had been able to function as well as she had.:: Vetri: ::whispering hoarsely:: T'Lea... I... I can't... T'Lea: Nam-tor u'khaf-spol Vuhlkansu - nam-tor u'katra Vuhlkansu - nam-tor u'sha'yut. ::whispering:: Kali-farr. :: Continuing the marriage ritual, she asked in a traditional manner if anyone challenged her, and then in a non-traditional manner she stopped the Trill from answering with a kiss that seemed to transcend the physical realm.:: T'Lea: << Pon farr.>> :: Somewhere along the line, Della's eyes had drifted closed, but now they flashed open again, locking onto those of the woman she'd just bonded with as her lips twisted into a predatory little grin.:: Vetri: Mine. ((Fast Forward)) :: A minute or so of consideration led Della to the conclusion that she could be pretty sure who was responsible for the redecoration of T'Lea's quarters, but there was no way she was going to admit it. Instead, she shifted her head slightly and sent a mock glare toward the woman laid beside her on the bed.:: Vetri: <<When you mess things up, you really go the whole hog, don't you?>> :: With a grunt of contentment, which was something she hadn't felt in two days, T'Lea snuggled into a gaudy gold, pink and purple pillow, happy to finally have her emotions back under control - sort of. Ready to drift back to sleep the lazy, exhausted hybrid ignored Della's voice in favor of *not talking*. Apparently Della didn't share the same sentiment .:: Vetri: <<I was perfectly happy to be single, with no intention of ever hooking up with anyone ever again. And then you come sauntering in...>> :: Flat on her stomach, head turned away from the Trill, eyes closed, T'Lea didn't move, and didn't plan on moving, *ever*, but she did mumbled a reply into the pillow, at least she *thought* she did.:: T'Lea: << Sauntering? ::half-laugh:: My posture does not allow me to saunter. *You* are the one that walks peculiar.>> :: With calm deliberation, Della pulled a pink frilly pillow from behind her head and brought it down sharply on top of T'Lea's, to which the Romu-vulc spun over and gave her very loud, "What the frell?" look, honestly not knowing what she said wrong - or did she. The mild grin perhaps revealed a little more than it should have. It was always fun to ruffle the Trill's feathers.:: Vetri: <<Don't think I'm going to let you get away with comments like that just because we're->> :: What? Bonded? That was pretty obvious from the trivial ease with which they were chatting without speaking, but just what did that actually *mean*?:: :: The way Della left her sentence hanging in the air prompted T'Lea to *really* consider what they'd just committed to each other. A lifetime together. Marriage. Bond-mates for life. Add to that the responsibility of a kid on and all the other uncertainties that suddenly decided to slap T'Lea in the face at *that* moment, and it almost had her running and screaming out of the room like her hair, or what Ben left of it was on fire.:: :: Carefully, deliberately she sat up on the edge of the pumpkin-shaped bed with her back to the Trill if only to hide the look of fear in her eyes.:: T'Lea: We are each other's k'hat'n'dlawa. <<half of each other's heart and soul>> That *is* what we wanted. :: She thought she did a good job of hiding the insecurity in her voice, but then again Della was getting very good at reading her like a book lately.:: Vetri: Just thinking that *after* jumping off a cliff is a little late to be learning to fly... :: Agreeing with a nod, the Romu-vulc got up without a word, tied herself in the ridiculous pink fuzzy robe and headed into the pink kitchen where she put the pink replicator to work. A few minutes later she returned to the bed with a large pink tray of assorted eats that had been dyed pink by the replicator program.:: T'Lea: I have similar concerns about our new situation, but I may have a plan to correct them. :: Using a fork to stuff her face with food, T'Lea talked between bites, but talked telepathically when chewing.:: T'Lea: If we are to <<learn to fly>> we first need a ship, correct? Hungry? :: Pon farr may have been quenched, but T'Lea's appetite wasn't, and neither were the spores. The pesky plant pollen was still highly active doing crazy things to her thinking. Mostly she felt a need to give her Trill anything she desired, and then a desire to give *herself* everything she deserved - no matter the cost.:: Vetri: I could go for food... <<What are you thinking?>> T'Lea: I'm considering <<subduing Sam and taking his little>> ship. We could go to Trill. Or Romulus. Your choice. ::chewing:: << Mmm. try the pink one.>> :: Every s[...] of food on the platter was pink, so Della picked up something more or less at random.:: Vetri: <<Someone really did a number on this place, didn't they?>> Sounds a reasonable enough idea, but what about the paperwork? Giving his whole ship away might make him look bad. <<Hmm, this is pretty good.>> T'Lea: <<Frak. Hadn't thought of that.>> ::she gave Della a thank you kiss:: Okay, possible solution, what if we <<take half the ship and leave the other half for Sam.>> It is capable of separation. The only question is, << which half do you want, saucer or stardrive section?>> :: Offering the Trill a nibble off her fork, T'Lea grinned, forgetting all the concerns and insecurities she was having mere moments before about the commitment they'd made.:: Vetri: <<Which would be easier to get?>> :: This really wasn't the kind of conversation she should be having, let alone be comfortable with. Whilst the mental jolt of the bonding had gotten her personality settled back to normal, her behavior was definitely still off-track.:: T'Lea: Valid point. <<What if we, no Ben, what if Big Ben created an emergency situation>> where <<we *had* to separate the ship.>> Sam would have no choice but to give the order. :: With a grin, Della swiped T'Lea's fork and stabbed another chunk of food off of the plate. Lifting it to her mouth, she chuckled, then pressed the fork-load gently to the hybrid's lips.:: Vetri: Think he'd go along with it? T'Lea: Ben would do anything if he thought it would win Soo's heart. He's a sap for spots, ::nuzzling her neck:: <<just like I am.>> :: Della felt a murmur of pleasure slip out at the touch, then grabbed a tight fistful of T'Lea's hair, which caught the Romu-vulc pleasantly by surprise.:: Vetri: You get sappy for any spots but mine, and I'll hurt you so much you'll think you were back with your mother. T'Lea: ::chuckling:: You always say the sweetest things. :: Relaxing her grip, Della stroked her lover's hair as she smiled softly.:: Vetri: This looks really good like this. I like it. :: After a moment to enjoying the feel of fingers running and scratching through her short layers of hair, the crazy Romie shoveled another morsel of food into her mouth. It felt like she hadn't eaten in weeks!:: T'Lea: << I wanted it long, like the good old days.>> This ::messing her hair:: I should shave his head for this. Vetri: I think it makes you look cute... <<But then you always look most beautiful to me when you're scaring the dren out of someone.>> This, though... ::trailing her fingers over T'Lea's new tattoo.:: Think I should get one done like that too? :: Dropping the fork with a clank against the metal platter, the Romie plucked Della's hand off her shoulder with a firm grip and shifted around so that she could see just how serious she was.:: T'Lea: No. Understand? <<No.>> :: Letting her go, T'Lea merrily began satisfying her empty stomach again with a hard stab at the plate.:: Vetri: Why not? Who apart from us knows what they mean? <<And it's not like Rynn would ever have gotten with advertising like that.>> T'Lea: ::sigh:: I was going to say you haven't earned it, but I suppose you have. ::beat:: Go on then. :: The decision was made, and T'Lea's reaction had made it. If she didn't think it was a good idea, that was good enough for the Trill. Brushing a quick kiss over her new bond-mate's brow, Della slipped out of the bed.:: Vetri: C'mon. Let's go talk to Ben about arranging an "emergency". T'Lea: :: hopping out of bed and taking the platter of food with her:: A change of clothing first. <<Replicate something that shows some spots.>> ::evil grin:: He may need a little convincing. TBC -------------------- Lt Cmdr Della Vetri Counselor & Second Officer USS Constitution-B & Lt. Commander T'Lea Historian & Archaeological Specialist USS Constitution-B

Congratulations, Ensigns!

Done

Creating thread for Mr. Gee's submission.

((Peripheral Counseling Centre 3-B, StarBase 118)) ::Fargit burst out of the turbolift running at full speed -- or, what counted as full speed for dyspeptic Tellarites. When he arrived in his office, he was already ten minutes late.:: ::A beautiful Bajoran woman sat quietly on the couch, a fine silver earring draped elegantly along one ear. She looked up at Fargit when he burst into the room, her eyes mildly curious in the way of habitually melancholy people. As if she hoped this intrusion would be the thing that turned her life around, but without the expectation that her hope would ever be fulfilled. She wore civilian garb of a totally ordinary sort. After inspecting Fargit for no more than a few seconds, the woman turned her head toward the only darkened corner of the room. Fargit let his eyes follow the Bajoran's gaze.:: ::Standing there, her back to the rest of the room, was the tallest woman Fargit had ever seen. She seemed to be making some pretense of perusing the titles on Fargit's bookshelf -- titles that had been placed there by StarBase Counseling, and which Fargit had never even tried to read -- and of ignoring the noise Fargit had made when he burst into the office, as well as the noise he was making now, breathing so hard that, with each inhalation, he snorted a little.:: Fargit: Well, let's get started then. ::The Bajoran woman nodded, turning from Fargit to the other woman, somewhat expectantly.:: ::The other woman turned toward the Tellarite counselor, slowly, as if she had all the time in the world. As if her fifty-minute hour wasn't already one-fifth expired.:: ::That's when Fargit remembered that this was a session for a married couple. That one of the spouses was a Bajoran. And that the other, her wife, was ... not a Bajoran.:: ::The Lieutenant's pips stood out against the gold, black, and gray of the standing woman's Starfleet uniform. The collar of the uniform did not close in the typical Starfleet fashion, but was cut wider to accommodate the Lieutenant's significant neck ridges. The ridges continued up her face to form a teardrop shape on her forehead -- a shape that, Fargit noticed, was emulated somewhat in the design of the Bajoran's earring.:: ::It would have been a beautiful gesture, even by Tellarite standards, if it hadn't been inspired by a Cardassian.:: K. Nul: Yes, let's. ::The Cardassian woman walked slowly to the couch and sat beside the Bajoran. She moved her hand in the Bajoran's direction, and the Bajoran pressed her palm gently against the Cardassian's. Both then turned in Fargit's direction -- the Cardassian having to turn her full upper body to meet the Tellarite's unbelieving eyes.:: K. Nul: I am Lieutenant Keratha Nul. ::She nodded sideways in the Bajoran's direction.:: This is Nul Serise, my wife. Nul S.: Hello. ::Fargit's mouth had been open long enough for a long spindle of drool to fall into his lap. Keratha smiled condescendingly; Serise, sympathetically. They were both thinking the same thing, however.:: oO Poor little fellow. Oo Fargit: Huh. ::There was something of a long silence.:: K. Nul: Perhaps you would like us to explain to you why we're here? ::Fargit nodded.:: Fargit: Yes. I mean, how do a Cardassian and a Bajoran get together? It's the strangest thing I've seen since -- ::Keratha smiled that inimitable Cardassian smile.:: K. Nul: I meant, perhaps you would like us to explain why we scheduled an appointment to see a Starfleet counselor. ::Fargit grunted.:: Fargit: Oh. Yes. Of course. K. Nul: We want to have children. ::Fargit's eyes grew wide.:: Fargit: You do? ::Serise nodded.:: Nul S.: Yes. Very much so. Fargit: Well ... it seems you were misinformed. I don't have any here. ::Keratha and Serise both chuckled quietly. Fargit, however, hadn't been joking.:: K. Nul: Of course not, Counselor ... Fargit: Fargit. Counselor Fargit. ::Keratha nodded.:: K. Nul: Yes. Counselor Fargit. We're not looking to take any of your children -- Nul S.: Prophets no! K. Nul: -- as adorable as they might be. ::The thought of young Tellarites disgusted Keratha almost as much as the fully grown Tellarite sitting there before them. But she didn't let her disgust show. There were plenty of disgusting Federation species with whom, as a Starfleet officer, she had found a way to deal. This Tellarite was no different.:: ::Her eyes then drifted to the slowly drying pool of saliva -- slightly brown -- on the Counselor's trouser leg.:: ::So. Perhaps this Tellarite was a little different. But nothing she couldn't handle.:: Nul S.: Yes, of course. ::Break.:: We've already arranged matters with StarBase 118 Medical. They're going to help us -- I think -- to have a child who is our very own. K. Nul: Genetically, that is. Fargit: That's ... lovely. Nul S.: Thank you for saying so. ::Keratha grimaced.:: K. Nul: Yes. You're too kind. Fargit: So, what do you need a Counselor for? ::Fargit thought he might be able to get out of this craziness rather easily. If they didn't have problems, they didn't need Fargit.:: Nul S.: We fought for months over who would carry the child. ::She smiled, sheepishly.:: I won. K. Nul: My Starfleet duties seemed not to be as well suited to pregnancy as Serise's responsibilities at -- what is it you're calling it now, my dear? Nul S.: The Little Shop of Sundaes. ::She turned toward Fargit.:: Catchy, don't you think? ::Fargit groaned.:: Fargit: Indeed. ::Break.:: So ... Nul S.: Now we're fighting again. Fargit: About who's to carry the child? K. Nul: No. About whether to engage in Cardassian or Bajoran birthing techniques. ::Serise corrected her wife.:: Nul S.: Rituals, Kera. They're rituals. "Techniques" makes it sound so ... sterile. K. Nul: Cardassian birthing techniques are sterile. They're supposed to be sterile. Babies need sterile. ::She turned to Fargit.:: Don't they, Counselor? ::Both Keratha and Serise looked to Fargit, waiting for his answer. Fargit didn't know what to do. He'd never been faced with such a choice before -- having to disagree with a Cardassian, or to disagree with a Cardassian's wife. Fargit loved disagreement -- he thrived on it, it was his culture and heritage -- but he had the distinct impression that Keratha Nul regarded him in the same way he had been regarding that spider earlier on the Promenade.:: Fargit: I -- ::There was a beep, coming from the direction of the Cardassian. Keratha lifted a padd and read through something very quickly.:: Nul S.: What is it? ::Keratha frowned. Fargit prepared to be eaten.:: K. Nul: Orders. ::She turned to Serise.:: I've got to go. Nul S.: No -- really? K. Nul: Yes, really. ::She pressed her palm to Serise's again, the Cardassian equivalent of a peck on the cheek, then stood and turned to Fargit.:: I apologize, Counselor. Perhaps some other time. Fargit: Yes -- yes, of course. ::He was still surprised he wasn't going to be eaten.:: K. Nul: Serise, darling, why don't you stay here and chat with Counselor Fargit. Give him a sense of our situation, so that we can make more progress next time. ::She paused.:: There will be a next time, won't there, Counselor? ::Fargit nodded more vigorously than was strictly necessary. He looked for a moment as if his head were going to fall right off -- a state of affairs Keratha wasn't entirely sure would disappoint her.:: Fargit: Mm-hmm. ::Keratha smiled.:: K. Nul: Excellent. Goodbye, Counselor. ::She turned to Serise.:: Take good care of my wife. ::Serise was still smiling, and Fargit still trying to formulate a response, when the door slid closed behind Keratha. Then there was another brief period of silence.:: Nul S.: So. Where should we get started? TBC ... Ensign Fargit Counselor StarBase 118 Ops & Lieutenant Keratha Nul Engineering Officer StarBase 118 Ops & Nul Serise Civilian StarBase 118 All simmed by Solok

Welcome to the fleet, gents. Best of luck with your new assignments.

All info can be found in this forum thread

Welcome to Starfleet! Try not to blow anything up. Yet.

Great entries so far -- keep `em coming

Thanks, had a great time writring it

The Gauntlet of Atlas The Federation Museum of Natural History had long since become the single largest structure on Mars, it’s sprawling grounds and towering structures dwarfing the surrounding business district of Tycho City. It was more through necessity than narcissism, of course – housing the histories of all Federation member worlds took up a great deal of space. At the centre of the building stood a garden with a café – small, circular marble tables with wrought iron chairs – where visitors could relax for a moment to catch their breath on what was sure to be an exceptionally long walk through this exceptionally large facility. Setting down a now-empty cup of tea onto the table at which she sat, a young brunette woman – possibly thirty years old – stood and smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt before picking up her [...]-leather briefcase. She wanted to get started before the museum opened its doors to the general public. The air outside was unseasonably hot, especially for an artificial environment like Tycho City. In an effort to closely replicate the seasons on Earth, the woman felt the technicians had gone a step too far. She could almost see the air, it felt so thick with humidity and she knew if she stayed out of doors much longer, she’d be sweating. Sweating was not one of her favourite things to do, especially when dressed for business. Walking quickly across the garden, she flashed her VIP security pass to the Starfleet security man standing at the entrance to the Earth Pavillion. “Ah. Good morning Doctor McKeever,” said Petty Officer Farina. “We’ve been expecting you.” Professor Agnes McKeever forced a smile as she passed through the door. “Morning,” she said quickly. It unsettled her that Starfleet security was guarding the new exhibit, but she supposed that’s what happened when a third of the collection was on loan from a retired Fleet Admiral. One of the old man’s requirements was that the museum’s usual security staff be augmented by Starfleet. More trustworthy, he said. Like civilians couldn’t be entirely trusted to do their jobs. Shaking her head, she quickly brushed aside the thoughts. There was certainly no love in her heart for Starfleet, given how they’d treated her father years ago, but she was at the museum to do a job. That job needed doing regardless of whether there was a military presence in the building. Having Starfleet on-site just made things a little more… awkward. She chuckled lightly to herself. Yes, awkward was a very good word. She wasn’t sure her father would use such a charitable term, but that was one of their differences in personality – she’d inherited her mother’s patience, thankfully. Despite its high-tech nature, the facility still had that musty museum smell, which McKeever supposed was largely due to the artefacts on display. Walking down the main display corridor of the Earth Pavillion, McKeever passed fossil displays of Australopithecus afarensis and other human ancestors before entering Display Chamber One. Display Chamber One was the centre of the museum’s new, temporary exhibit: “Myth and Legend on Ancient Earth.” Passing gilded statues of falcon-headed gods and carvings of terrible beasts, McKeever’s eyes came to rest on one piece in particular. It was set apart from the rest of the pieces on display, given a place of honour, encased in glass and with a ring of diffused lights illuminating it’s burnished surface from every angle. Her breath momentarily caught in her throat. “The Gauntlet of Atlas…,” she said quietly. The whole reason for her trip to Luna, for her visit to the museum. It was smaller than she had expected, but its beauty was undeniable. A silver base, etched with faint scenes depicting what McKeever assumed were the gods of Olympus, inlaid with intricate geometric patterns of gold. According to legend, the Gauntlet was a gift from the gods to Hippolyta, queen of the last tribe of Amazons. It was said that the Gauntlet would either imbue its wearer with the strength of ten men or multiply the wearer’s strength by ten – the legends were, as so many are, unclear. Apparently, the Gauntlet had been worn by a champion of the Amazons in a great battle to protect their people. Though the champion died in the conflict, she was successful in the defence of her people. “Noble,” she muttered. “But kind of stupid.” She opened her case and retrieved a small holocamera, snapping holographs from every angle of the artefact. Once combined in a projection device, the holographs would create a perfect likeness of the Gauntlet – a perfect teaching tool. Agnes McKeever had been invited by the Federation Museum of Natural History to perform a short series of lectures to go along with the myths and legends exhibit. Considered something of an expert on the subject, having published five books, two of which were currently being used in the curriculum at Starfleet Science, McKeever was to present three lectures, each focusing on a different aspect of the collection. Her first was to focus entirely on the Gauntlet of Atlas and the reality behind the myth. Replacing the holocamera, she took a small scanning device from the bag and, with a frown of concentration creasing her otherwise smooth brow, began taking readings from the Gauntlet and its display. “Everything going all right?” The sudden sound startled her, and she nearly dropped her scanner. She inwardly cursed herself for being so wrapped up in her work that she hadn’t heard the security guard approach. “Yes, yes. Just preparing reference material,” she said, smiling. “We’ll be using an interactive holographic display during the lecture and I want to make sure it’s accurate.” She could see Petty Officer Farina losing interest already, but forged ahead, pointing out specific markings and patterns on the object. He would have no idea if she were telling him the truth or not, she realised, so she threw in a couple of points that anyone with any archaeological knowledge would have found ludicrous. The security guard just kept smiling and nodding with the same blank stare. “That’s very interesting,” said Farina in a disinterested monotone. “I’d better get back to work.” With a bright smile, she agreed that she should finish up her information gathering as well, but that she appreciated his interest in the work. As he disappeared down the hallway, she shook her head. “Starfleet security…,” she said with a light chuckle. It was roughly thirty minutes later that McKeever exited the exhibit, her briefcase bulging with her hastily repacked holo gear. She smiled and nodded curtly to Farina as she passed him, heading off in the direction of the lecture halls. For his part, Farina tried to give the attractive woman his best winning smile, but the professor had moved to quickly to notice. He was fairly certain that if she had seen his smile, she would have fallen madly in love with him. Or at the very least want to sleep with him. Farina often thought this was true of women, but he was quite thoroughly wrong. Of course, sitting in a museum all day while most of his friends were off in space doing… spacey things gave him plenty of time to create an elaborate fantasy world, filled with women interested in him. In fact, there were these Andorian twins who often visited the museum who figured prominently in- “Hey Farina.” Farina stood up a little straighter as his boss, Chief Petty Officer Moesbey, strolled down the hallway. Moesbey was frowning and reading a padd. He had also missed a spot shaving this morning and Farina was having a hard time not staring at the stubbly patch on the chin of his boss. “Sir?” “Looks like the fantasy lectures are cancelled.” Fantasy was how Moesbey referred to the Myths & Legends exhibit. The man had no imagination and Farina figured that was why the man was drawing museum duty at age forty two. “What do you mean, sir? Didn’t Professor McKeever have time to get her reference material?” Moesbey looked up at his subordinate with a look that implied he thought Farina had been drinking. Or worse. “Reference material? The hell you talking about, kid? She ain’t comin’.” Almost dropping the padd Moesbey tossed him, Farnia quickly turned it right side up to read the report. PROMINENT ARCHAEOLOGIST FOUND DEAD. Farina read it again to be sure. Professor Agnes McKeever’s remains had been found on Alpha Centauri approximately one hour ago. Death had occurred between thirty-six and forty-eight hours ago and local authorities suspected foul play. “But… she was just… I just…” Dropping the padd, Farina ran, panic-stricken, into Display Chamber One. The woman’s case had been bulging with what he assumed was a poor repacking job, but… Skidding to a halt in front of the Gauntlet of Atlas, he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. The Gauntlet was still there. Whoever it was who had just been here – and it clearly hadn’t been Agnes McKeever – hadn’t done anything… Wait. “Oh no… Nononononono…” Using his security codes, Farina opened the display case. He reached out to touch the ancient and priceless artefact and felt the bile rising in his stomach. His hand had passed right through the Gauntlet of Atlas.

Thank you!

For some reason I still can't post new threads. Can someone please create a thread for my story "The Gauntlet of Atlas"? Much appreciated.

My entry has obviosuly been delayed. Still hoping to finish it in the next couple days, but had another project pop up... and since the other project pays, "The Gauntlet" gets shoved down the priority scale

Hoping to finish my entry tonight. So it may at least be a two-horse race