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Kali Nicholotti

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  1. Also in September, congrats to Aine Sherlock for her promotion to full Lieutenant and Yogan Yalu for his promotion to Lieutenant Commander!
  2. OOC – This is a flashback from Ar’Gorvalei’s Academy days. Just wanted to share. IC - ((Earth, San Francisco, The Fab Floor, 3 years previously )) Natalie Tomassen, her brown ponytail swaying behind her, led her fellow second-year cadets down the nightclub’s winding staircase. Tomassen: I learned about this place from some upperclassmen. It’s sort of a hidden gem. Her roommate Mysa zh’Drinnel, a tall, lithe Andorian woman with cobalt blue skin and her white hair in many tiny braids, navigated her way down the staircase holding a glass of blue Andorian Ale she’d picked up at the bar. Zh’Drinnel: A ‘gem’? Right… Behind the two women, Ar’Gorvalei and Gabriel “Bing” Reyes, Natalie’s boyfriend, followed. The downstairs room of the bar was lit by colored strobe lights. Tables, couches and pillows were scattered about the room. Patrons, mostly human, and mostly Starfleet cadets, clustered in small groups around the room. Reyes: The real gem is over there. ::Points with his drink at a large, squat, rectangular machine with a glass front and several buttons:: That, my friends, is an authentic, Seeburg Model ESE 100 Jukebox, circa Earth Year 1970. Tomassen: Authentic? ::Snorts :: If it were really authentic, it would be in a museum. Reyes: No, really, it is. I talked to the owner. They’ve had to replicate replacement parts over the years, but the replicated parts have all been true to the original. Tomassen: Now there’s a philosophical question. :: Takes a sip of her beer and looks at Ar’Gorvalei:: How many parts do you have to replace before something is no longer the original? You replace one worn part here, one worn part there; after a century or two just about every part has been replaced, one at a time. Is it still the original, or a replication? Ar’Gorvalei met Natalie’s eyes. The two were both specializing in medicine at the Academy, and had connected over their shared studies in xenobiology. Ar’Gorvalei: Humans and Efrosians – and Andorians too, I imagine… ::Glances at zh’Drinnel:: … constantly grow new cells as old cells die off. Skin cells, hair cells, everything but neurons, die off and are replaced. Yet are we not our ‘original’ selves? Would you argue that you are a replica of Natalie because you are not composed of the ‘original’ Natalie cells you were born with? Tomassen: ::Raises her drink and smiles at Ar’Gorvalei:: Touche. Mysa peered into the jukebox’s glass front. Zh’Drinnel: That’s all well and good, but what does this thing actually do? Assuming it does anything. Bing leaned on the left side of the jukebox. Reyes: Oh, well, that’s the real beauty. You see, it plays … Tomassen: Let’s just show them. Natalie walked up to the machine and took a small, round disk out of a cup attached to the wall next to the machine. She slipped the disk into a hole in the side of the machine. She looked inside it, and pressed a letter and number combination on the buttons on the machine’s front. Tomassen: ::Snickering:: You’ll like this one. Mysa jumped back as the sound of an electric piano echoed from the box, followed by the strumming of an electric guitar and a man’s voice: . “Seventy-three men sailed up From the San Francisco Bay Rolled off of their ship, and here's what they had to say "We're callin' everyone to ride along to another shore We can laugh our lives away and be free once more" Ar’Gorvalei: :: Is this a library? Reyes: No, no. It just plays music, classical music. ::Shakes head and smiles.:: Ar’Gorvalei: Are these not the songs of your people? Meanwhile, Natalie began dancing with Mysa and pumping her fist in the air to the beat of the song’s chorus as she sang along: “Ride, captain ride upon your mystery ship Be amazed at the friends you have here on your trip Ride captain ride upon your mystery ship On your way to a world that others might have missed…” Ar’Gorvalei: ::Looking confused:: Is this an account of early space exploration? Jonathan Archer’s voyages? Or later? Tomassen: Naw, this was written 200 years before Archer, more or less. Ar’Gorvalei: Prophesy, then? Reyes: More likely drugs. I heard they were doing a lot of LDS around that time. ::Looks at the jukebox again:: I’d love to take this baby apart. Tomassen: Don’t you dare. We’d get banned. Reyes: I’d put it back together again. Tomassen: The old thing’s probably held together with baling wire and duct tape. You pick the next song. Reyes: ::Flipping through the song selections:: Ah-ha! Keeping to the theme of nautical nonsense. Natalie dragged Bing away from the jukebox and onto the dance floor, as a strangely accented song about a “yellow submarine” began playing. Mysa raised an eyebrow at Ar’Gorvalei. He smiled, took her hands, and joined her on the dance floor. (( Present – USS Arrow, Deck 2, Officer’s Mess )) Ar’Gorvalei looked at the holopic he held in his hands, taken at the Academy, of himself, Mysa, Natalie and Bing, arms around each other, the latter two half drunk. He pushed the button to turn it off and slipped it inside his pocket, and gazed off into space. They had been good friends, for a time. Then Bing had slept with the wrong person, Natalie slept with Ar’Gorvalei in retaliation, and Mysa became furious at both of them. Ar’Gorvalei was left stunned at how quickly his closest friendships had imploded. oO It seemed like such a small thing to throw away friendships over. I will never understand humans. Or Andorians. Oo Ar’Gorvalei shook his head. Bing had dropped out of the Academy; Ar’Gorvalei never heard all of the details, but there was some sort of scandal connected to his departure. Mysa was recently posted to a ship serving on the other side of the Alpha Quadrant. They still kept in touch, although they were no longer as close as they once were. As for Natalie… Ar’Gorvalei walked up to the jukebox in the officer’s mess. It was a different model, but the principles were the same. He scanned through the tabs listing the available songs. oO Yes, they have it. Oo His fingers hovered over the buttons, just lightly touching them. Then he pulled his fingers back, as if the keys burned him. oO No, not yet. It’s too soon. Oo Still, the words echoed in his head, and Ar’Gorvalei smiled. “Ride, captain ride upon your mystery ship Be amazed at the friends you have here on your trip Ride captain ride upon your mystery ship On your way to a world that others might have missed…” END Ensign Ar'Gorvalei Medical Officer U.S.S. Arrow A239809A11
  3. Only if they promise not to call my boat a 'bathtub toy' ever again. ::Grumbles.::
  4. And now, for an entirely different kind of Sandwich... (( Hamsan & Sirin’s Quarters, Deck 4, USS Resolution )) Dwich hated the chair he was sitting in. It was awkward and made him feel like he was leaning halfway back to the floor, with nowhere to put his legs or rest his arms. After Dr. Genkos Adea’s experimental treatment failed to produce any results, he had taken some additional scans and sent Dwich home. Home. These quarters, which he’d never seen before today, were his. And Meidra’s. He felt like an interloper, having been given access to a stranger’s residence. The idea that he’d be sent back to the quarters he shared with a woman he’d never met before today struck him as a tad inappropriate, for both of them. He wondered whether the familiar setting was by design, to shock his system with the comforts of home and “fix” him. He didn’t like it. Everyone he had encountered on this ship so far made it seem like it was just a failure of memory, an amnesia from which he would one day awaken. That wasn’t it. He wasn’t the person they were looking for. He wasn’t their Hamsan Dwich. But, he did have their Hamsan Dwich’s DNA and voiceprint, which gave him access to the library computer and allowed him to read up on himself. It was fascinating reading, and after scanning his biography in detail, Dwich was able to pinpoint the exact moment when they went from being the same person, to diverging. In the summer of 2388, Dwich was just 19 years old, spending his fifth summer in a row living and working with the ranjens at Kaiett Monastery. At the end of his stay, he was told that his pagh was meant to walk this path, and he was welcomed into the brotherhood of the faithful. He had remained on the property ever since, a decade of study and meditation and prayer, of devoting his life to the service of the Prophets. The other Dwich had not been so lucky. Evidently, even though they were the same person, the other Dwich’s pagh was not meant for a life of religious contemplation, and he was sent away from the Monastery, never to return. After a period of drifting, working various odd jobs in tourist traps all across the Quadrant, he had somehow ended up on Earth’s moon, working at a hospital before beginning a career in Starfleet. After arriving on Resolution, he met Meidra Sirin and the two began a relationship. They dated, they fell in love, they moved in together. She even broke his arm once. Dwich was processing all of this when the doors opened and Meidra entered their shared living space. He had helped many people deal with their grief, and he could tell that Meidra was still in the “not handling it well” phase. She put on a smile and greeted him, her pleasant tone of voice an ill-fitting mask. Sirin: How are you feeling? Hamsan: As well as can be expected. ::beat:: I know this must be difficult for you. Dr. Adea sent me here, but I can easily go somewhere else if–– Sirin: No, these are still your quarters unless you intend to see Lieutenant Yalu to be reassigned. There is another bedroom on the other side of our bathroom. I can move into that one and you’ll have your privacy. Dwich resisted the urge to shake his head. These are still your quarters. Everyone was still expecting him to awaken from this ordeal, as if it were a dream. It was more like a nightmare. Dwich had spent his entire adult life studying the words of the Prophets, but there was nothing he could think of that would soothe the pain she was feeling. The silence needed to be filled with something, and Dwich could only form an apology. Hamsan: Meidra, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t know you. And I’m sorry that Dwich, your Dwich, isn’t here. Dwich’s apology was sincere, but it also served a secondary, more calculated purpose: he felt a responsibility to himself not to be bound by the expectation to be everyone else’s Hamsan Dwich. Yes, they had been the same person up to a point, but after a decade of diverging paths and paghs, they were completely different individuals. Even if he tried, every day for the rest of his life, he could never be Meidra’s Hamsan Dwich. Sirin: I’ll be around if you would like to talk, but forgive me. I need to meditate before this headache makes me ill. Meidra moved quickly away, saying nothing more, and Dwich knelt on the floor to pray for guidance as the soft sounds of a stranger crying in the next room carried over the stale, recycled air. End scene for Hamsan PNPC Vedek Hamsan Dwich Vedek, Kaiett Monastery Dakhur Province, Bajor simmed by Lieutenant Yogan Yalu Helm Officer USS Resolution NCC-78145
  5. I was going here, but you beat me to it. Once again, very nicely done!
  6. ((Central Park, Deep Space 3)) Most people met in the many visitor destinations available in the area. Most people chose to share their time over meals, or partaking in some activity of mutual amusement. Most people found enjoyment among the throngs of other people, each seeking something that brought them that moment of excitement, joy, or connection with others. Ash MacKenna was not most people. In the dimly lit space under one of the largest trees in the living park, the red-head’s emerald eyes sparkled as they reflected the light of an artificial moon. Recorded sounds of a stream and what nighttime creatures might have existed on some faraway world allowed each visitor of the area a kind of privacy that didn’t exist elsewhere, especially since there were few who came there, especially at night. Her breath was steady, slow, and almost held in anticipation. It had been far too long since she had felt his touch and looked into his eyes without a screen or hologram between them. Her heart danced as she watched the path. Finally...the silhouette that appeared coming towards her held the same stature, had the same walk...Ash could only contain her excitement long enough for him to step out from the first bunch of trees into the moonlight before she took off running and launched herself into his arms. -- He had no right to be so slow. He wanted this, desperately. He’d pushed the Arrow’s engines harder than was wise by any means to get here quickly, no doubt causing some consternation belowdecks. He’d waited impatiently for permission to dock, and before he’d even settled on rest and reorganization protocols with the dockmaster, he’d come here, racing through the mostly-empty habitat sectors and main thoroughfares, until the soft, wafting, incongruous scents and sounds of an open-air park ensnared him, and beckoned him forward with babbling brooks and the excitement of possibility… She was there, waiting for him. He didn’t see her, but they didn’t require that. They just… knew. He did, at least. The scene was too perfect to be without her, and yet, the closer he got amidst the bushes and winding paths, the farther his mind wandered. He wanted to be closer to her than was possible, as if they could leave their forms behind and just float within and around one another. But the problem was… he still wasn’t sure what his self was. The incident with the Gentii was not the most difficult mission Shayne had ever undergone, nor the most taxing, but it might well have been the most consequential. He was no stranger to the disquieting sensation of not belonging, but there was no doubt in his mind that there was a violation here that not even R’Ariel’s gracious counseling had been able to cure. He felt… invaded, and the memories that weren’t his, mingled grotesquely with the ones that were, left him a stranger in his own meatsuit, and a scoundrel in his own soul. So it was with a wave of emotion he could never quite quantify that he saw the red and gleaming hair of his beloved, sitting under a large, placid tree, in almost the exact way he’d been dreaming of since their departure. And when she ran to him, it took no strength to hold her, no resolve to lift her, so great was his delight. Their foreheads gently touched, and Shayne breathed in like his soul was being refilled with every inhale. And then, delicately, he placed his lips on hers. In that instant, his failures and problems just… didn’t count for anything. Not while he held her. Those arms...there was warmth there that she hadn't really felt for far too long. There was strength that had built a protective wall around her, in which nothing could touch her. As she breathed in, she took in everything she missed while they had been apart; the way his hair fell just so, the warm feel of his body so close against her, and even his scent, which highetened every one of her past desires to be where he was. But when he kissed her, that was the moment when she lost any sense of anything around them. It all faded into the background almost as if it never existed anyways. It was a vessel she drank from hungrily, daring time to move forward and take the moment away from her like it did everything else. The fire that was inside burned hot, its flames fanned by the fact that they had been apart for so long. There was only so much a screen could offer. But like all things, the moments moved and time marched on, leaving her breathless, his arms around her and hers around him, their bodies as close as the laws of physics would allow, and her eyes firmly locked on his. MacKenna: I’ve missed you. Shayne reached down, and with the most delicate motions has calloused hands could provide, entwined his fingers in hers. He felt her pulse, strong and vital, and he slowly brought her palm to his chest, resting it there and clasping it protectively. Shayne: You were never gone. But there was only so much he could keep within. And that's when she saw the shadow behind his eyes. It was clear he was just as happy to be there, in that moment with her, but there was something else, something deeper and yet unshared. For a moment she watched, waited, and downright refused to lose any moment with him, and yet, the shadow scared her, a strange feeling knotting up in the pit of her stomach. She held on, perhaps a bit tighter, before she asked. MacKenna: Are you okay? How foolish he’d been to think he could keep it under wraps. How proud. But while his control was lacking, and his partner’s perception was effective, he could make the here and now matter. If it weren’t for restraint, he would have held her tighter, manifesting the solidity without that he demanded of himself within. But he was in control of himself here, because MacKenna was here. Ash was here. His strength was here. Shayne: I will be okay. It was a promise, a statement, a goal, a truth- whatever it had to be to not take away from their togetherness. No amount of Gentii interference or mind entanglement or bureaucracy or paperwork or space or cruel wisps of fate and whim would keep him from her, within this moment. Tomorrow, they could die. Therefore tonight, they would live. He didn’t have to force the smile that came forth from his ruddy features. Shayne: Besides, I’ve seen your missions- if anyone’s got reason to worry, it’s me. It was his way of staying connected, staying alive with Ash in the moment, while covering the fact that her profession, indicated by a black collar and a penchant for glistening mystery in her verdant eyes, scared the hell out of him. He had phasers and sensors and a ship that purred beneath him. Where MacKenna’s missions took her, not even those simple pleasures could be depended on. Shayne: Are you okay? He wanted to dance with her, and hold her, and feel her beside him, and look at the stars with her, and talk about the latest events of the galaxy, and just… give all he had to her. But before any of that, he had to be there for her, in whatever form that entailed. He appraised her affectionately, wiping away all other concerns and presenting unto her a temporarily blank slate upon which she might place any cares or fears or injuries. If she were to turn to sand, he would catch her, and cradle her into cohesion once more. Ash knew what he referred to, what he was reaching for. Being a Captain in Starfleet awarded him unique access to some things, but she was all but certain that it was the redactions in the reports, and the things left out that had him worried. Being that the universe had deemed to bring them back together while she was on one such covert mission, he had good reason to be. There was safety in numbers, and within ships. In her profession, there were rarely ships, and almost never numbers except those against you. But now, unlike she thought then, she had something worth fighting for. And fight she would to return to this very place. To his arms. To home. MacKenna: I will be. A soft, but well knowing smile washed across her face in the moonlight. Fear was a powerful motivator, but love was perhaps stronger. It was a light that shone brighter than any star in the galaxy, capable of lending the strength to move mountains - or fight insurmountable odds just to get home. The adoration shone in her eyes as she gripped his hand around hers just a bit tighter as if to mean that she wasn't letting go. MacKenna: We will be. Whatever demons he fought he would not fight alone. Though she often second guessed herself and found herself shying away from so much for fear of failure, and for fear of letting those around her down, she knew that together they could handle anything. He was the perfect fit, the missing piece to the puzzle that made up Ash MacKenna. And while duty dictated that they could not be physically together as often as she would have liked, distance, nor any of the hellbound chaos that the universe put in her way would keep her from him. Shayne: Then I will not be afraid. The words danced in the air between them just as the first tiny drops of artificial rain fell from above. A method of ensuring a most natural experience while keeping the flora healthy and alive, the station's rain was nothing short of magical. Bits of moonlight became obscured by artificial clouds as the mist turned into defined droplets that hit them without discrimination from the surrounding scene. Like the confession, or the declaration, had been waited on by the universe with baited breath, the first droplets of rain fell upon them. He almost burst out into explosive laughter at the simple, gorgeous absurdity of it, but perfection was rare, and the family lineage of Shayne knew well the ease with which something could be scared away. Ash laughed, uninhibited by the typical plaguing thoughts that muddled up her mind, taking both of his hands and pulling him around in a circle. Like the waves of some far off ocean, the water poured down on them, and with its passing, washed away all of the sins of time gone by. For the first time in a long time she felt lighter than air, as if dancing with him in the rain took her above the clouds and among the stars themselves. Pulling herself back into him she stopped for a moment. It felt like everything around them stopped for that moment as she leaned her head against the side of his and whispered in his ear. MacKenna: I love you Randal Shayne. And then she leaned back just enough to look him in the eye, with two pools of emerald green. Held within was a kind of depth and fire that accentuated the words in a way that no other words or actions could. Shayne: I love you Ash MacKenna. He knew he didn’t have to say it- and that was the beauty of what they had, the sheer, ridiculous, improbable joy of their connection. They didn’t have to talk to speak. Nevertheless, confirming it, stating it, carving it into the runes of reality was just one more way to ensure that what they had, here and now, was forever solid, forever theirs. Shayne: Come with me. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, his ease and trust letting his mind again run rampant in a way he almost never permitted. But the sheer panic that arrived an instant later passed just as quickly as he realized that he wasn’t just asking- he was praying. He didn’t want to let her go, in any way. Intertwining her fingers in his with both hands she looked up at him through the rain-soaked tendrils of flame-red hair that fell around her face. The rain brought a chill, but the heat shared between them was more than enough to keep it away. MacKenna: Okay. The explicit trust conveyed could not have been more firmly stated. She’d follow him to the edge of the universe, and through any of the hells that may or may not exist out there. With him beside her, she had no fear of the future, or anything it might hold. Shayne was a private man. Reserved, steady. Occasionally hot-headed but exceptionally good at hiding his true intentions and feelings when necessary. So it was both an indication of his trust in MacKenna, and his absurd shock, that he stuttered repeatedly. There was no sign of amusement in her eyes, no indication that she was kidding. Shayne: Wh- EH? You… mean that? Don’t joke about this, Ash. Please don’t. He hadn’t allowed himself to even hope that his desperate plea would be answered- if he started, only to lose that hope he never had… Ash searched his eyes and offered a look of honest resolve reflected in her own. Starfleet had a way of pulling families apart and scattering love across the galaxy in its own spectacular way. Their history together was a testament to this fact, but one that she was wholly ready to depart from. As she caught herself lost in the desperation of his gaze, she knew she had to fight to walk the path with him now. She never let her eyes drift, holding him in a solidly locked gaze. MacKenna: I mean what I say. I want to be where you are, with every ounce of my soul. He had to believe her, he was her sun, moon, and all of the stars in her galaxy. She was done saying goodbye. Ash was one of very, very few people able to burrow past the thick armor of his uniform, and touch the heart. He was used to people trusting in him- because they had to, because they were trained to, because there really wasn’t any other way to work. But this… was trust on a level so utterly vast and different that it could only be a foundation for something beautiful. He let it settle around him, and when the final adjustments were in place, made metaphorically over a period of several seconds, a wide grin spread on his face like a teenager. Shayne: But… your career, your missions- it’s not fair of me to ask you to leave that. It was in that moment that everything this might take started to poke at the edges of her consciousness, but for the first time in a very long time - perhaps ever - Ash did not feel overwhelmed. They would face complications. He was a Starfleet Captain, and she an Intelligence operative, but they had some very powerful forces on their side. After all, he was a Starfleet Captain, and she happened to know a few. MacKenna: It won't be easy, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes. Complications muddied the path now, but she kept her emerald eyes locked on his, waiting for him to acknowledge her words; waiting to jump in with him. He knew it. Knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she was completely serious, and completely willing to leap forward with him. He itched to join her in the long fall towards possibility. Shayne: I… don’t think I could be much happier than right now. He giggled slightly, the mirth overwhelming his defenses. An amused grin washed over her, a sparkle dancing in her eyes. He’d not shied from those complications, nor whatever trials this might bring. The fight would be theirs to face together, and they would do so in solidarity. A kind of glee found its way through the hard shell of a mask that comprised the man before her, exposing what lay beneath; the intrinsic being both whom she needed, and who needed her. MacKenna: What? Shayne: Nothing, it’s just… I guess the crew’s going to have to get used to me smiling a little more often. And he would be- if this was real, and not a dream, or an illusion, or a memory that wasn’t actually his, he couldn’t imagine feeling any better. Finally, they'd be together. Properly, this time. The way they should have been for years. Around them, the rain slowed, leaving them soaked. Large drops fell from the tips of her now-auburn hair and ran down her pale skin. The moon reappeared in all its glory, casting upon them an almost holy light, as if the universe had sanctioned this moment for no one other than the two of them. The scent of dirt, just after a rain, rose to meet them as the last of the clouds drifted off and the sounds of the night returned. But if anything beyond him existed, Ash did not notice. Taking her hands still intertwined in his, she pulled his arms around her until she was secure in his hold, with her body pressed against his, and slowly loosed her fingers from between his. With eyes lost so completely in those that gazed back at her, and with such adoration, Ash faded into a near trance, her fingertips slowly tracing up his arms to his neck and resting there. Absentmindedly wandering, one hand ran down along his jawline, ending with a single, delicate finger on his lips. She finally blinked, as if coming out of a deep thought, and smiled slightly, but very, very seriously as she moved her hand to meet her other behind his neck. And then Ash MacKenna spoke words with a kind of tenacity that was unknown to her, except for when it came to him. MacKenna: Marry me. To anyone who might have been watching, the scene might have played out like a movie. The look in his eyes was answer enough to the audience, clearly reflective of the love he had for the woman he held protectively in his arms. To the same, the kiss that followed was enough to make even the most stout romantics look away and blush, and if fireworks could go off in the midst of the monsoons, the moment would have made it happen. As for Ash, she was having trouble controlling the flood of emotions in that moment, which was perhaps where the question - no, the statement - had come from. But maybe that was alright. Maybe here, in these arms, especially in this moment, that didn't matter. Maybe it wouldn't matter ever again. Maybe, just maybe, the universe was finally going to be as it should be. There was a sensation Shayne didn’t understand, didn’t recognize at first. The warmth of her presence, the glow of her affection, the trust in her eyes… it was all so familiar, and it was all he could do not to melt. But there was another… something there. Something that waited patiently for him beyond the gates. Something that waited its turn for him to let it in. Alone, he could never accept it, never stand his ground against it, never expose himself to it. But here, held… swaddled in the unconditional light of MacKenna, he could. And when he opened the gate, he found… what he’d been missing. The uncertainty and the doubt and the self-confusion… it all disappeared. It might return, and inwardly he knew that. He was ready for it. But he also knew that the person before him was his completeness, and when she spoke those two most beautiful words he’d ever heard in his life, he could only smile, lip quivering. With a deft hand, he touched his combadge. Shayne: =/\= Two to beam to Captain’s Quarters, USS Arrow. =/\= In the last moment before the beams whisked them away, Shayne held MacKenna’s hand in his. ((Deck 2, Captain’s Quarters, USS Arrow)) The red glow from installed lights mixed with the golden hugh of lamps about the room, and the soft hues played nicely on the bulkheads and illuminated their space against the stars. It wasn’t quite as romantic as their former locale, but they could return shortly if they desired, and in any case, his quarters possessed something the arboretum could not. Without letting go of MacKenna’s hand, Shayne reached over toward the nearby cabinet, where a small box sat. Velvet and black, it seemed to sink into his hand until he opened it. The white cloth inside cushioned the pair of rings that sat beside one another- black as space with sprinklings of white, pin [...]ed stars upon them. softly. In his mind, his next words were confident, suave and romantic. In reality, his breathy voice betrayed his unparalleled delight, excitement, and joy. Shayne: I, ah… suppose I’m a little late on the draw here, but… With trembling fingers, he picked up one of the rings. Carefully, he brought it close to its compatriot, until both began to glow subtly, exuding a cautious but insistent warmth as a result of their proximity. The wonder could not have been hidden from her eyes if she tried, nor would she want it to be. This moment was more magical than she ever could have imagined, with what he had revealed to her being even more consequential than the mere fact that she had asked him in the first place. Their souls were in the same place, on the same plane, intertwined as one. And it was all such an amazingly beautiful thing to behold. Shayne: ...better late than never. He knew the answer. He knew she knew the answer. And yet, the question still lingered, thick in the air. Shayne could only smile with his whole heart as every part of him responded at once. Shayne: Of course. He leaned in, and placed the most gentle kiss on her lips. Nothing had ever felt more certain in his life, and that certainty had never given him such perfect delight. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was happy. And she knew now that she was finally home in the most fulfilling, most perfect, most complete sense that ever could be. TBC... Commander Ash MacKenna Chief Intelligence Officer USS Arrow R238605KN0 and Captain Randal Shayne Commanding Officer USS Arrow NCC 69829 G239202RS0
  7. ((Sickbay, Deck Two, USS Resolution)) Adea: You’ll have to use the holoemitters for our EMH, but they should work. Should being the operative word. He turned to T’Suran, and ran his hand through his matted hair. A finger caught on what was either a knot or a clot or something, and he pulled it free, shaking the hair that came with it off and onto the floor. Adea: In the meantime, we need to keep Nusin alive for as long as possible. T’Suran: Response With time running out – or perhaps not – to save Nurse Nusin, Dwich brought all of the ’bay’s holoemitters online to prepare for the surgery. Meidra approached his side and he gestured to the screen, which was presumably showing a diagram of how the procedure would work. Genkos grabbed an anabolic protoplaser, and began to try and hastily repair the damage to Nusin’s lungs, with T’Suran’s help. It was slow work, but it was keeping him alive. For now. Hamsan: I don’t need to lecture you on holography. ::grinning:: I know you’ve got some skills and talents in that regard. ::beat:: But the size, shape, and placement of the lungs have to be calibrated down to the micron. Getting the measurements right is our main concern. Sirin: How would you suggest we proceed? Hamsan: Try scanning the transporter logs. Hopefully Nusin has taken a trip through the transporter recently. Genkos’ hands were trembling as he kept replicating the pleura for Nusin’s eviscerated lungs; he was absolutely appalled by the damage. It was as if someone had transported a miniature kukek beast in there, let it rampage for sixty seconds and then beamed it straight out again. Sirin: It looks like he has. I’m not completely sure what our next steps are. You’ll have to walk me through the surgery. Hamsan: Absolutely. First thing we have to do is - There was a pause in Dwich’s speech, although Genkos didn’t look up from his work until the next time the poor Bajoran boy in Sickbay spoke. Hamsan: What is that? Adea: What is what? ::he looked up and saw the electrical surge travelling through Sickbay’s systems:: Oh... It continued moving across every electrical device, getting closer and closer to where they all were standing. Suddenly, it picked up speed, and crackled across the floor and up into the console on which Meidra’s hands were currently resting. Dwich quickly grabbed her hands and removed them from the transparent aluminum surface before she would be shocked. Hamsan: Meidra, get away from that. Genkos raised his own hands and his brain told his mouth to shout, but it was too late. Dwich was standing between Meidra and the sparking console when it exploded. All of his muscles involuntarily contracted, and he stood frozen in position, supported by the massive amount of electricity coursing through his body. A moment later, it dissipated, and Dwich collapsed to the deck. Genkos rushed to his side, the cane clattering to the ground, as Kali’s voice came through the speakers overhead. He barely registered her voice as he looked up to stare into Meidra’s eyes. Nicholotti: =/\= Bridge to Engineering. Prepare to eject the core at breach minus 30 seconds. =/\= Hamsan: ::weakly:: Meidra, Nusin needs you. He needs the lungs–– Dwich exhaled and died. Genkos slumped back, utterly defeated. He turned and looked up at T’Suran, who shook their head. It appeared too that Nusin had passed. Genkos struggled to his feet, his arm pushing down on a biobed, slipped and fell to the floor, totally beaten by the situation. His head fell and his chest rose and fell with harsh, wracking sobs, and he didn’t even notice when the warp core was ejected and then blew up. It would have been a bit of a relief. (( 5 minutes earlier )) Genkos reopened his eyes and saw he was back in his office again. He slammed down a fist on his desk and then shook it vigorously when that really hurt. He leapt to his feet, and rushed out of his office, his cane lying forgotten on the floor. He looked at Nusin and pointed to the nearest biobed. Adea: There, now. Nusin rolled his eyes, but lay down only a few seconds before whatever happened, happened. Genkos felt his previously clean arms become steeped in gore again, and he threw anabolic protoplasers to both Meidra and T’Suran. Adea: Pluera, now. Genkos pulled the biobed’s arm up and over the Bolian nurse as the doors to Sickbay, and he heard Dwich’s voice call out to them. Hamsan: ::to Meidra:: You were just about to say I look horrible. Relief flooded through him, but there was very little time to waste; they needed to stabilise Nusin, and fast. Adea: Grab a protoplaser, and get Nusin stabilised. I’m not losing them again. Sirin / T’Suran: response Genkos looked up briefly in between micro-operations and saw Dwich was still standing in the doorway, pointing at the console that had previously killed him. Adrenaline shot through his body, as well as a curious [...]tail of rage, frustration and despair. Hamsan: That console overloaded and electrocuted me. Adea: It did, but not this time. Sirin / T’Suran: response Hamsan: What is going on? Genkos looked down at his patient, and Nusin looked him in the eyes. A small smile crossed the Bolian’s face as they shook their head briefly. Genkos knew what they were saying, that it was hopeless, that the third time wasn’t the charm, and that they should stop. Genkos grit his teeth to stop the tears from overwhelming him, and in that moment his guard was let down. Emotions flooded him from all over the ship; pain, fear, desperation and confusion. There was something else, a strong feeling of curiosity, but it was all gone as quickly as it came, and Genkos rebuilt those walls that kept the outside feelings at bay. It was the last thing any of them needed. Adea: No, Nusin. We will keep fighting for your life. Every. Single. Time. Nusin tried to speak, but lost consciousness, and Genkos looked up at the three medical professionals still conscious. Adea: I have no idea what’s going on here, but I’m not giving up on Nusin. Not now, not ever. Protoplasers to the ready, they seem to stop them from dying in the short term. ::he looked over at Dwich:: Keep away from any consoles, I’m not losing anyone today. Hamsan / Sirin / T’Suran: response As they worked, Genkos felt that curiosity pique again at the back of his neck. It wasn’t his curiosity, that was for sure, it was something stronger, something more… primal. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he recognised the immense power of those thoughts. He was reminded of a happening on the Gorkon, when they had all been imprisoned in a science experiment that returned them to the alternate universe for the Skarbek. A science experiment that had been carried out by a… by a… Adea: Q. Hamsan / Sirin / T’Suran: response Genkos looked over at Meidra and raised an eyebrow. With her partly El-Aurian senses, there may be something she could sense better than he. After all, he remembered reading that the El-Aurians had a curious past with the Continuum. Adea: Can you sense anything, Meidra? Anything… powerful? Hamsan / Sirin / T’Suran: response Tags/TBC ----------------------- Lieutenant Commander Genkos Adea MD Second Officer & Chief Medical Officer USS Resolution G239502GS0
  8. The theme for the Resolution this year is: The Crew of the USS Resolution Takes a Page Out of History.
  9. ((SICKBAY - USS RESOLUTION)) For all of his tough talk on the bridge about not needing to go to sickbay just yet, Aeson had seemingly had a change of heart. As his adrenaline from the bridge "battle" wore off, it's pain dulling effects went with it. He'd found himself wincing with practically every minor change in expression and feeling like his whole face was throbbing like some kind of large, red, cartoon injury. Still, this was technically his first day and he had impressions to make. It wouldn't do for Aeson Del, hardened Security Officer and all-around tough guy to walk around whining about a booboo. With some effort, he forced a painful smile on his face, stepped through the door, and made a beeline to the Doctor. Del: Doctor Adea, I had a.. uh... minor kinetic incident on the bridge. ::He pointed unnecessarily to his bloodied and bruised face:: I just need something to dull all of this so I can get back to work, Sir. Adea: Response Aeson followed Adea's gaze and his smile became a lot less forced, if still quite painful. The strikingly pretty, red-haired Vulcan Ensign from the bridge seemed to be waiting for him by a bio-bed. She seemed amused by his smile, which he of course attributed to his own natural charm and certainly not to any kind of schadenfreude about the smile itself causing him pain. He hadn't been able to find a good excuse to make her acquaintance on the bridge, but hey, when life gave you a broken nose and a pretty doctor, you make lemonade... or something like that. He couldn't exactly recall how that Terran saying went. Aeson tried to crank his confidence up as high as it would go, which in his current state wasn't as high as he'd prefer, and made his way over to the ginger Doc. Del: Doctor Adea said you might be able to help with this? ::He again needlessly gestured to his blatantly obvious wounds and casually, like this kind of thing happened to him every day, continued:: It hurts a little, but I've had worse. This wasn't entirely or, actually even slightly true. Aeson was probably in the worst pain of his life. The Doctor maintained a sort of stern, clinically appropriate expression as she replied. Sirin: Ensign Meidra Sirin, ship’s counselor. I believe your nose is broken. It will have to be reset. Please sit down. Now armed with a name to go along with the quite agreeable face, Aeson tried to very smoothly mount the bio-bed, but something went wrong. Perhaps he was swooning over the good doctor... or possibly it was the acute head trauma he'd received, but his coordination seemed to be slightly out of spec. Whatever the case, he managed to miss the bed entirely, landing squarely on his rump. He felt his face redden slightly from embarrassment, but with all of the bruising and other fun colors he had going on, he figured no one would notice. Aeson felt sort of like the guy who slept in late the day they handed out brains as Meidra helped him back to his feet. A task, he noted with another minor hit to his ego, that was quite effortless for her due to her inherent Vulcan strength. He eased himself onto the bed carefully this time. Ever the optimist, Aeson tried to salvage what he could of the first impression. He'd used his charm to woo countless (Countless was a strong word. A couple would be closer to accurate.) attractive women, men, and humanoids in his Academy days. Surely, He could turn this one around. Del: It's very nice to meet you, Counselor. :: He straightened his posture slightly:: I'm Aeson Del with Starfleet Security. You know, I... His attempts to try and talk himself up were deftly thwarted as she cut in. Sirin: What? Oh - of course. You’re in security. Was there a reason you weren’t chosen for the away team? He made a sound, somewhere between a squeak and a groan, but decidedly un-masculine. It was impressive really, how she had fired a well-aimed shot to the center mass of his bravado. He was offended and infatuated in equal measure. If it was possible to blush further, he did. Del: Well.... ::He stammered.:: I was on AN away team. Not the main important one, but... well... there was a very suspicious console...and... The situation had deviated very far from how Aeson had imagined it. Not only had he wooed no one, but he was quite certain he had done the opposite. He may have invented the anti-woo, here, in this very sickbay. His sort of groggy mind was spinning out of control trying to find a way to come out of this exchange with a net-positive outcome, when Meidra hit him unexpectedly with a hypospray to the base of his neck. He jumped at the sudden cold sensation and somehow managed to fall backward and hit his head on something hard behind him. This set into motion a series of events that Aeson could only assume was some kind of cruel punishment meted out by the Four Deities for some past misdeed. Aeson rubbed at his tender head, letting a few expletives fly that would've disappointed his mother. He turned to survey the damage and, realizing he'd hit his head ON someone else's, without thinking, he reached out to apologize and managed to knock the hypospray out of her hands and sent it careening into the forehead of a nearby patient. Any reasonable person might've cut their losses and sat on their hands to prevent further misfortune, but not Aeson Del. Desperate to do something, anything that wasn't utterly embarrassing, he took a step towards the newly disturbed patient in yet another attempt to apologize and slipped on something squishy and unpleasant and very nearly crashed onto the bed of a wounded Klingon officer. At the last second, the strong hands of the Counselor caught him and guided him back to his bed before they had to dispatch an engineering team to clean up his damage. Adea: Response The words of admonishment from Doctor Adea barely registered to his mortally wounded pride. The momentarily disorienting effect of the hypo had worn off and he was left with only the "I-wish-I-was-dead" feelings of embarrassment rattling around in his mind. Aeson could not imagine how this could've gone any worse. Whatever dashing impression he'd hoped to make on the gorgeous auburn-haired counselor was a distant memory and the only real option he had now was to get out of here and transfer to another ship where no one had witnessed anything that had just happened. Hurting in several new places, Aeson put his hands on his lap and tried his best to just behave himself. Del: ::Staring straight forward, he affected a forced calm tone.:: I'm just going to sit here and let you fix me before I break the ship. Del: oO Then I'll go crawl in a hole. And die. Oo Sirin: You may be the first patient to leave Sickbay in worse condition than when they arrived. Now please hold still while I attend to your injuries. ::she consulted her PADD:: First step, clean the wound then - hmm shove cartilage back into place..:: she hid a grin as he paled, the blood on his face a vivid contrast to his skin.:: Oh wait, that is a historical text. It appears a few minutes with an anabolic protoplaser will repair the damage. ::She moved the device closer to his face:: His eyes had gone wide when she had initially described the procedure, but his forced neutral expression had gradually melted into an involuntary smirk as he'd realized she'd been messing with him. A Vulcan with a sense of humor was certainly a new thing for him. She ran her various medical gadgets about his face and gradually, some small components of his confidence began to rebuild themselves. So things hadn't gone as smooth as he'd hoped, maybe he'd made a bit of a fool of himself, but he hadn't become a Starfleet Officer to back down in the face of adversity. Self-imposed or otherwise. It took all he had, but Aeson took his shot. Del: Make sure you do a good job Doc. ::He managed to catch her gaze.:: I'd hate for you to have an ugly dinner date... She finished her work and took a step back seemingly dumbfounded and, Aeson hoped, at least a little charmed by his advances. She turned away momentarily as he surveyed her handiwork in the bedside mirror. There was still a bit of residual redness, but for the most part his mug seemed to be back to its original state. He thought he heard a reluctant sigh as she turned back towards him. Sirin: I suppose if we were both in the mess hall at the same time, I’d allow you to sit near me. It felt sort of like a bolt of lightning had shot down his spine. In a good way. Instantly a lopsided grin appeared on his face and he climbed off of the biobed. He suddenly felt great again, like he hadn't just been minutes away from shame-induced self-exile. Del: ::Still grinning:: It's a plan. As soon as this whole Unity thing is handled, Consider yourself ::He realized there was no real good way to finish his thought so he just went for it.:: ...uh... sat near. Sirin: Response? Still smiling as he left the sickbay, heading towards the cargo bay that held the console that had sent the disturbing message, Aeson paused just on the other side of the doors and, after checking to make sure no one was looking, made a silent fist-pump motion to himself before continuing on his way. Del: oO That went great! Oo ++++++/////++++++ Ensign Aeson Del Security Officer USS Resolution R239708AD0
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