Kalianna Nicholotti

Yes...another one from our wordmaster @Yalu

((Somewhere)) MacKenna: You're going to be okay. Shayne grimaced in appreciation and camaraderie, and totally did not scream the things he wanted to. oO Leave me be! Five years you’ve known me, but you don’t know when to just let me be! Oo It was all he could do to keep up the facade, the facade that he felt the same way as her in that moment. It was a rare thing that they diverged, but when it occurred, the world was more challenging. There was just such a divergence now, and he worked so damn hard to keep that fact from his fiance, because it would do her no good to worry, and it gave him something to think about besides the eyes of the young Maquis he’d just incinerated. He seemed to pass the smell check, though he knew that with each passing moment, the difficulty in keeping up the appearance would grow, and the opportunity for a slip up would fail. They couldn’t afford such distractions- well, maybe Ash could, but she’d always been a creature drawn to shadows. If there was one thing he’d learned it was that shadows were patient. And though the captain had killed on rare occasion previously, it was without any doubt in his mind that he realized this particular shadow would loom for a very long time. The breeze felt good on his face, and he took a position behind Ash, her lithe form tackling the terrain with grace that he could never emulate. He did his best though, trudging forward with a swiftness that might not be expected of a man of his considerable size. His lungs burned, his legs shrieked, his mouth contorted into a shape of madness, but he didn’t slow down, not until Ash turned back to face him. Under the stars, there was no question that she’d see the tear, but perhaps she’d attribute it to their combined exertions. MacKenna: How are you holding up? Shayne: Never better. His voice was hoarse. Damn her and her care. Damn her and her compassion. Her needs were valid, of course, but sometimes it was difficult to convey that, in times like this, what she offered was the last thing he could stand, let alone want. Connection, empathy, warmth, grace, hope- -a blast of ozone shearing through the dusty air and cleaving a man from his home, and his family, and his endeavors, without even a body to bury- She wasn’t buying his equilibrium, but perhaps she was swayed on the “dealing with it” part. MacKenna: I get it. Her touch was beautiful, and gentle, and all the things he’d come to know, and in the moment, it took every ounce of strength to not throw it off. It wasn’t her hand. It was a mocking corpse’s pale white limb, caressing him from the grave- Shayne: Ah! He jolted away, and then covered his unusual movement with a rub of his elbow, feigning an aggravation of a wound he’d sustained in the tunnel system. MacKenna: Well, can you see that? He focused toward her gaze, her gesture narrowing down the options. Sure enough, a light burned bright, well into the distance. Normally he’d see that as salvation, good news. And it was. For their survival, for their plans, for their families. Suddenly the prospect of escape had lost its luster slightly. Shayne: And what shall we do when we get there? MacKenna: If we can find a console or something, we can rig it to send a distress signal. Shayne was already speaking as she finished her sentence. Shayne: Let’s go. They ran, Shayne clumsily tripping over his own feet and underbrush. He didn’t stop, not even when he fell on his face. By the time his chin scratched the craggy ground he was scrabbling for traction, ignoring the small line of red that now descended towards his neck. If he were a thinking man in that moment, he’d say that he was running from the truth- then again, he was leaving that fact in the dust behind him. The light turned into a small structure, and then a small complex, no larger than a moderate house. Shayne pulled out the weapon he’d shoved into his uniform, training ingrained in him taking over even for the desire to do no harm. He kept the pistol in low ready, stepping slowly and carefully and quietly- A figure loomed. Shayne brought the weapon to bear instantly, and fired, and… and… No. He hadn’t pulled the trigger. No matter what thought he put into it, his finger simply… wouldn’t obey. The figure wavered and undulated like it was in a state of flow, and then… The spotlight that spun atop the main structure spun their way, revealing a young tree waving in the desert wind. Shayne sighed and tried not to let the fact that he’d almost lost a shooting war to a plant get under his skin. Shayne: Cover me. MacKenna: Response A panel in the wall called to his attention, and he accessed it with some well placed concussive maintenance. The complex featured a relay system of incomparable simplicity and age; a few specifically timed interruptions in the active feed modulator were all that was necessary to convey a series of numerals that any Starfleet ship in range would recognize as a distress signal. He closed the panel, and slid his back down the wall, unable to catch his breath properly, but refusing to pant like an animal. Shayne: Now we wait. That prospect was more terrifying than any battle he’d taken part in. MacKenna: Response Tag/TBC… Captain Randal Shayne Commanding Officer USS Arrow NCC 69829 G239202RS0

(Genkos & Kalianna’s Quarters, USS Excalibur-A)) Genkos frowned; there was something off about his uniform - it was hanging a little looser than it normally did. He pulled at the top, trying to get it go taut - had he lost weight? There wasn’t that much of him to begin with, so to have lost enough weight to be noticeable was a little bit a cause for concern. He leaned into the mirror and pulled at his face - his cheekbones normally stood out a little bit stark, but they almost made his face look like a modernist painting. He shook his shaggy head, before attempting to run a comb through the knotty mess atop of his head, swearing a little as it caught on several knots and attempted to pull them, follicle and all, out of his scalp. He placed the comb down with a sigh and pushed his hair back with a hand where it sort of stayed, although the grey forelock flopped forward. Adea: Gods damn it. Then the console in his room rang. He frowned - he wasn’t expecting a call. Stepping out of the bathroom, he limped over to the desk. It was probably for Kalianna, he could forward it to her Ready Room. He sat down and turned the screen towards him. Blink. No. Blink. Blink. Adea: … Dad? Sure enough, on the screen there was the logo of the Betazoid penal colony that Tilull was currently imprisoned at. He pressed his palm into his forehead as he considered what to do - let it ring, or answer it. It was possible that it was actually the Warden was calling him; that she wanted to update him on his father’s rehabilitation. Maybe that was it… No… That would be too much to ask. Genkos pressed the key to answer the call, and settled back in his chair. The logo disappeared and was replaced by the image of his father. He looked older than Genkos remembered, and instead of the usual brightly coloured clothing that he wore (a trait Genkos had inherited), he was dressed in what looked like a drab, beige jumpsuit. T.Sim: Genkos? The warmth with which his father uttered his name took Genkos back - it had been remarkably easy to demonise the man when he didn’t have to see him. The images and footage he’d seen on newscasts had been worlds apart from the father that he knew - the petaQ that had murdered his first wife and crippled Genkos’ mind was the one he’d seen on his consoles in the past. The one he saw now was the father that had taught Genkos to swim, the one who had taken him camping every year in the woods, the one in whose veterinary surgery Genkos had spent most of his childhood. Swallowing that wave of emotion, his esophageal prominence bobbed, before he parted his lips to speak. Adea: Tillul. Tillul looked stung - but what else could he expect? T.Sim: Am I no longer your father? Genkos crossed his arms and forced himself to push out the feeling that longed to embrace the man on the other side of the galaxy. Adea: You stopped being my father the day you pushed Fumiko down those stairs. I just didn’t realise it yet. T.Sim: You weren’t even born then, Genkos. Adea: No, but the man I consider to be my father died that day. Tillul looked grave for a moment and then, when Genkos assumed he would scold him, nodded instead. T.Sim: The man I thought I was died that day too. Genkos scoffed. Adea: So did a woman you professed to love, and your child. What do you want, ::and then, dripping with contempt:: Dad? T.Sim: I… I wanted to apologise. Adea: Mum said you apologised to her over a year ago. Why wait that long to apologise to me, eh? Run out of subspace time? Genkos could feel his rage building, his fury at the betrayal that this man had wrought. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but Toto looked up - clearly the anger the doctor was feeling was not contained to his own mind. The dangers of being a telepath. T.Sim: I know. But I didn’t have the words for what I wanted to say to you. I didn’t have the courage. I didn’t have the will. Genkos raised an eyebrow. Adea: But now you do? T.Sim: No, I don’t think I do. But my rehabilitation officer said that to progress, we had to speak. Adea: Oh, so you’re doing it because you have to. Bye, Tillul. Genkos reached over to end the call, but a frantic waving from his dad stayed his hand. T.Sim: I am sorry Genkos. I am sorry that I killed Fumiko, I am sorry I killed our child, I am sorry I invaded your mind and took away your powers. But most of all, I am sorry that by doing all of that, I destroyed your image of me. The loss of your love is the worst pain imaginable. I have spent every day since it all came out wishing that I could have one more moment in the woods with you, just sitting around a fire and sharing medical stories. Adea: That’s gone, Tillul. That’s never coming back. Your apology might make you feel better, but it doesn’t undo any of the things you did. Fumiko doesn’t miraculously come back to life, my sibling isn’t here, my telepathy doesn’t magically reappear and undo all that bullying, all that humiliation that I went through. Being a full blooded Betazoid with empathic powers was seen as a disability on Betazed; or at least it had been when he was a child. And he had suffered for it. Oh, how he had suffered. Children were cruel. Children who could beam their words into your mind, knowing you couldn’t block them, crueller. Adea: In fact, the fact that you sat there and cradled me, comforted me for my lack of telepathy knowing that it was your fault, that you could take away all that pain with a moment’s work, that’s unbearable. You were never the man I thought you were. That man never existed. That man I loved. The man I see right here? I don’t know who you are, but I know for a fact that I want nothing to do with you. T.Sim: Genkos - Adea: I hate you. And he ended the call before the hot stream of tears started to flood from his eyes… Tags/TBC ----------------------- Commander Genkos Adea MD Second Officer & Chief Medical Officer USS Excalibur-A G239502GS0

🤪

(( HMS Excalibur, Caribbean Sea, Earth – Unknown time )) The feeling of being transported yet again across space and time was, unfortunately, becoming old-hat to Kirky. Even so, this time it felt different. Physically different. Kirky lacked the vocabulary to describe the feeling, but it was akin to being rescued in an emergency beam-out and re-materializing on the transporter pad in a different position. On Honorious, Kirky had been standing by the helm, gesturing as he pleaded his case to his crewmates about the lack of causality. Here–wherever here was–Kirky was standing, but found it difficult to move. His arms were restrained fast against his sides and his ankles were lashed together by some kind of clangy metal. Whatever he was standing on was moving underfoot, almost undulating up and down in a slow, rhythmic fashion. He felt a salty breeze against his face, but only part of it. His vision was obscured by a cloth blindfold, and another cloth was tied fast over his mouth. He slid his bare foot across the surface upon which he stood and picked up a splinter in his big toe. As he struggled against his restraints, the pieces all assembled to form a picture. A bummer of a picture. Bean: oO Dude, I’m walking a plank. Oo Although he could neither see nor speak, Kirky could hear everything happening around him. There was all kinds of hustle and bustle and the intermittent cannon fire, the noise of which made Kirky’s ears sting each time. Gott: Is this an ocean?! Where are the walls! What's that noise!? My ears hurt so much I can barely hear a thing! Gnaxac: OWWWWWW! K. Morgan: Where are we? A. Morgan: Isn't this that place that you humans call hell? Kirky wasn’t sure from which part of the boat his plank extended, but it was apparently not a very well traversed part. Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. Gott: What?! You'll have to speak up, I said my ears hurt! Gnaxac: MAKE IT S-S-STOP NOW PLEASE! K. Morgan: Does anyone know where we are? Thornton: Judging from our uniforms, I’d say this is an old Earth sailing vessel about five or six hundred years ago, give or take a few decades. Kirky was grateful for the context clues, although he wished that someone would come over and rescue him. The plank on which he stood wobbled with every wave, and keeping his balance was a challenge. He took a deep breath, focused on his core, and lamented that he went out for lacrosse instead of rhythmic gymnastics as a youth. A. Morgan: That tracks. What do we do about it? Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. K. Morgan: I’m from Earth, but I don’t know anything about this time period other than it’s… early. Kirky was unprepared for another volley of cannon fire. He instinctively flinched, which upset his careful balancing act. The splinter in his toe was really starting to hurt. Thornton: CEASE FIRE! ::she waved her hands above her head!:: CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE! Thankfully, whoever the crew of this ship were decided to listen to Commander Thornton. After everything quieted down, all he could hear were the sounds of waves breaking against their boat and the flapping of sails as they caught the wind. Thornton: I don’t think we’re supposed to be pirates, if that helps. ::she shrugged.:: These uniforms seem to be military. But that’s about as far as I know. A. Morgan: Playing pirates might have been more fun. ::Frowning.:: Alright. Let's see what we can do and find out about this latest plot twist. Kirky disagreed emphatically with Commander Morgan’s statement about fun and pirates. If a navy ship was forcing him to walk the plank, what would have a bunch of outlaws done? Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. Gott / Gnaxac: response K. Morgan: Great… I don’t suppose we can just call up CloQ and beg for mercy, can we?! A. Morgan: Actually... CloQ. CloQ. The jerkface Q that put everyone through all that Klingon stuff last year had struck again. There was nothing any of them could do. Encounters with Qs lasted as long as the Qs wanted them to last. Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. Gott / Gnaxac: response Barrelman: Vessels ahoy! Kirky knew what that meant. More boats. More chance of someone spotting him. More chance of someone helping him back down off the plank before he tumbled over into the water. Thornton: Looks like we might have a friendly face or two joining us. A. Morgan: I'm not sure I believe it. Commander MacKenzie? Niac? Talos? K. Morgan: ::with a slight smirk:: Now we’re getting somewhere… Kirky hoped he could get somewhere, too. Somewhere else. A spray of ocean hit him in the face, moistening the cloths covering his eyes and mouth. He started moving his facial muscles to nudge the damp fabrics out of position. Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. Gott / Gnaxac / K. Morgan: Response. Thornton: Do you think this is intentional? Do you think that CloQ means for us to encounter them here? A. Morgan: Oh, I'm certain it's intentional. From what I understand, those creatures, beings, whatever, love to play games with humanity. K. Morgan: Intentional or unintentional, I’m glad to see some members of the senior staff. Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. Gott / Gnaxac: response (( Several Minutes Later )) Kirky dangled patiently off the poop as the crew of the sailing ship Excalibur hauled aboard some of the starship Excalibur’s missing officers. When they’d all been brought on deck and checked out from their own ordeal, Kirky–well, Kirky just stood there. Thornton: It’s good to see you. ::she said, full of gratitude.:: Does anyone know what is going on here? MacKenzie: It’s CloQ. Instead of killing us all at the same time over and over, his new trick seems to be making us relive… less than stellar moments in history. Kirky nodded enthusiastically as he chomped on the corner of his blindfold, which he’d just succeeded in dislodging from around his right ear. Less than stellar sounded about right. Dakora / Niac: response K. Morgan: Glad to know we’re not the only ones out here, at least. Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. Gott / Gnaxac: response Thornton: We’ve been, uh, falling through time. So far we’ve been to the Romulan Supernova, almost swallowed by a Doomsday Machine and faced Cardassians in battle… and now here. Kirky lost the last half of what Thornton was saying because he was momentarily disturbed by a seagull who mistook his face for a snack. Without the use of his arms to shoo the bird away, he suffered the double indignity of being pecked and nipped at by a beak, only for the gull to change its mind and fly off. Bean: oO Dude, lame. Oo MacKenzie: It sounds like we’ve been going through our own versions of hell, then. How did this all start? Dakora / Niac: Response. A. Morgan: I saw the Q take the Captain and Commander Adea. We've been working on finding answers ever since. K. Morgan: Across several hundred years, it would seem. Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. The seagull returned, perhaps intrigued by Kirky’s muffled vocalizations. He sputtered and shook his head to startle the bird into retreating, but the bird declined, choosing instead to perch atop Kirky’s head. Seagull: Squawk. Bean: oO Don’t rub it in, bro. Oo Gott / Gnaxac: response Thornton: One thing we did find is that the entire area appears to be saturated in chroniton particles. I’d also wager so are we. That might be what is facilitating our movements across time. MacKenzie: If that’s the case, that leads me to believe that CloQ can’t keep it together, thereby causing our respective scenarios to merge. Kirky hoped that whatever was troubling CloQ would get worse, and pronto. Hopefully whatever construct they were in would collapse altogether before the seagull completely nested in his perfect hair. He winced as he felt its beak peck at his scalp and nip at his scalp, presumably looking for a home. Bean: oO Gullermo, dude, be cool. Oo Dakora / Niac: Response. A. Morgan: How do we go somewhere else? Preferably somewhere with a computer. Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. Gott / Gnaxac: response MacKenzie: And impulse engines… (beat) I hypothesize that the increased chroniton particles has something to do with our realities merging. How can we exploit that to our advantage? The seagull flew away and Kirky breathed a sigh of relief, only to feel its flappity webbed feet splat down on his head once again a moment later. The movements half-hurt, half-tickled, and Kirky realized that Gullermo was weaving a twig into his hair. Dakora / Niac / Gott / Gnaxac / A. Morgan: response MacKenzie: But how do we do that with the resources currently at our disposal? Dakora / Niac / Gott / Gnaxac / A. Morgan: response Bean: ::chews gag:: Mmmmph. MacKenzie: CLOQ! ENOUGH! SHOW YOURSELF RIGHT NOW! Tag / TBC PNPC Ensign Kirkington Algernon-Greene “Kirky” Bean Shuttlecraft Pilot and Relief Helm Officer USS Excalibur NCC-41903-A D238804DS0

A couple times...

((USS Arrow - Deck 1; Ready Room)) Ayemet walked across the Bridge to the port compartment and to the doors to the Captain’s Ready Room, a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. Since when did walking towards a door become such a drama? She shook her head ruefully. The truth was she knew why she was there. Her outburst in the Conference had not gone unnoticed. It would have been difficult for it not to be. She had seen the looks shot at her from Commanders Rodan, Serinus, and Collins. She felt the emotions that ranged from surprise consternation, and from fear to anger. Indeed it was one of the reasons that Commander Rodan had ordered her to Sickbay; to ensure that she was able to be part of an away team, and to be able to contribute any skills she brought to it. It wasn't just that though. It was also to determine whether her empathic abilities were of aunty danger to herself or the crew. (( FLASHBACK - Jalanda City, Bajor several years ago)) Sunshine poured through the open window that looked out across Jalanda City bathing the sleeping figure in a golden hue. The young girl murmured groggily, awoken by the warmth that now enveloped her. She stretched lazily, opening her dark brown eyes and brushing away a shock of blonde hair from them. Outside the City was slowly coming to life as merchants set up their stalls and the streets began till with people eager to buy the freshest fruit and vegetables as they made their own way to work. Ayemet had always been slightly puzzled by this. When food could be so easily replicated, and virtually anyone could beam anywhere, it seemed slightly archaic that people would buy food or walk to work. Whenever she had voiced such puzzlement her Mother and Father had always corrected her, insisting that replicated food could never been as good as something freshly picked from a tree, or dug up from the soil, and that simply because someone could do something it didn’t necessarily mean that they should, whilst her Brother would merely roll his eyes, as if it was a question that wasn't even worthy of being asked. Pulling on her simple tunic and pants, and her climbing boots she ran downstairs. Today was going to be a good day. Today she was going to take her Father to meet Nisha at the crystal lakes and they were going to set up camp there. She happily sang and she jumped the last two steps and rushed into the kitchen. Ayemet: Morning everyone!! What's for breakfast? I'm starving! However rather than the usual laughter from her Father, and the gentle chiding from her Mother she was met with silence. Her Mother sat at the large kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of her.. Ayemet stopped and thinking that it was some kind of prank, that her Father was hidden and would leap out on his unsuspecting Daughter she asked again. Jacin :singing the question: I said what's for breakfast!? Her Mother looked up, as if woken from a slumber. There was no smile, no laughter, no soft chiding. Jacin Catyr: Can you make something for yourself this morning Ayemet? :rising from her chair: I’ve got to get to the store. We have a new shipment of stem bolts coming in. Ayemet: Errr okay but where’s Dad? Her Mother moved towards the door that would lead her to the streets, and from there the store. Jacin Catyr: He’s gone. Ayemet: But he’s taking me to meet Nisha. When’s he coming back? Jacin Catyr : snapping at her Daughter: He’s not coming back Ayemet! I’ll need you in the store this afternoon. Make sure you're there. And with that she walked out the door as if it were any other day leaving a confused and upset daughter standing alone in the kitchen. ((END FLASHBACK)) Ayemet stood at the door and pressed the chime, squaring her shoulders and preparing for the worst. The chime to the Ready Room door broke him from his contemplation. He realised, rather foolishly, that he’d been staring at the computer terminal on the deck for longer than he could remember. It had been nearly nine months since he’d sat in the chair opposite him, with Shayne sat in his usual spot, and swivelled that same computer terminal to him. The questioning, but darkly mirthful eyes which had exposed his ‘deception’. That he’d requested a demotion when he joined the Arrow, to prove his scientific prowess. That’s when Shayne had approached him about becoming XO. He chuckled to himself about it even now. Maz had laughed, rather raucously, assuming it was a joke for the new officer. But Shayne was determined, as only Shayne is. Rodan: Come. The doors swooshed open and Jacin entered. Maz sat up in his chair and offered a comforting smile. Ayemet stood to attention, her hands clasped behind her back. Kindness, or understanding, of any kind, wasn't what she had been expecting. She felt his sincerity in the comforting smile he offered her, but it was tempered by determination. She understood. He had a job to do. Whatever else had happened she would make it as easy as she could for him, already forming the resignation in her thoughts. His mind now turned to this side of command. Being Joined had changed his life in more ways than one. It made him confuse birthdays with previous Hosts, and give him memories that were - and by the same token - were not his. He remembered that evening on The Midnight Planet. Well, he assumed it was evening, since the small planet was constantly bathed in darkness, and Maz took it for evening as he huddled, terribly wounded, by the rock next to the fire Alvarez had started. The conversation seemed to haunt him now. ((FLASHBACK - The Midnight Planet; Crashed Pod Site)) The darkness engulfed every inch of the small planet. The night that seemed to last forever. Only the flickering phaser-fire and the strange pulsating glow of the bioluminescence of the surrounding jungle shone any light against the two officers laying against the rocks, trying to keep warm. Trying to stay alive. Rodan: Starfleet isn’t The Borg, Maria. Sure, the Red Collar changes you. Much like Joining changes you, but it’s those little pieces of “self” that only individuals have which can make it succeed. Sure, I could have flatly refused to take the responsibility of First Officer. I still can. I can request a transfer or reassignment at any time. Maria found herself almost surprised by what she was revealing about herself. So much so, she kept right on going, finding she was able to articulate something to herself for the first time. Alvarez: It’s more than that. No offense, but I’m not sure I’ve ever met a command officer I actually liked. Too interested in rank and position, telling people what to do. I don’t want to become that! Maz raised an amused eyebrow and chuckled, even though the act of laughing hurt his lungs and made his sides ache. Rodan: Is that how you see me? A rank climber? I’ll have you know, I requested a demotion when I was posted to the Arrow. The truth is… I was already a full Lieutenant and Chief Science Officer of the Dickens. I wanted to see if my Joining had influenced that unjustly, or whether I did have the knack for it. Shayne saw right through it and reinstated me to my true rank, then promoted me to be First Officer. I didn’t ask for it. But the choice was mine when I accepted. The same with you. Maria was genuinely surprised. His attitude to rank sounded more like hers than not. Maybe she’d been even more wrong about Maz than she’d realized. If so, she rather appreciated being wrong about him. Alvarez: I didn’t know that. Rodan: Just because you’ve temporarily assumed command in my impairment doesn’t mean you’re going to be shackled to command forever. You stepped up. Where would we be without you? I’d probably be dead. Chloe too, probably. Alvarez: :: She chuckled. :: Hey, the night is young... Rodan: And speaking as a temporarily relieved command officer. Did you see Ar’Gorvalei with his shirt off? He grinned and eased himself back against the rock he was leaning on. The pain was flaring again, but he was determined to keep their spirits light. Alvarez: Are you kidding? I can’t stop seeing him. Maria joined Maz in laughter. He seemed continuously full of ever better surprises. She never imagined she’d be checking out men together with a ship’s first officer. Rodan: I think I should make a trip to one of these Efrosian monasteries. Those guys know how to keep themselves in good shape. Alvarez: Sign me up! :: She shot a devious grin. :: On second thought, maybe don’t. Knowing my luck, they have a vow of celibacy and I’d wind up creating another… diplomatic incident. Maz grinned and glanced towards Maria. She giggled at his expression. Rodan: See, Shayne would have shot me a disapproving look, or comment for that. But technically I’m off duty, and I’m not a machine. Good humour. That’s the secret to command. Alvarez: :: Grinning. :: So I still get to be cool? Rodan: Coolness does not diminish with responsibility. In fact, it amplifies. So yes… you still get to be “cool”. ((END FLASHBACK)) Could he still be the “cool” First Officer now that the crew had been flung so far from Starfleet? The Captain was gone. MacKenna was gone. Everyone he looked up to for guidance. He was on his own now, with a crew of nearly eighty people all looking to him now. For guidance. For answers. For help. Ayemet was one of those officers now. It was a grave feeling, and he wondered if he could do his best for her. The El-Aurian stepped towards the desk and he indicated for her to take a seat. Rodan: Thank you for coming. Jacin : cautiously almost as a question: Thank you?..Sir. She sat down in the chair facing the Commander, her hands folded nervously in her lap. She would miss the ship, her friends, but she also knew that she had struggled with whatever her empathic abilities were, and even more so since the ship had ended up near Odyssey Staton. Rodan: You’ve come a long way since coming aboard. I’ve watched you develop and grow from a shy Academy mouse to a fine science officer. ::He paused.:: Never in five lifetimes would I have thought you’d interrupt a staff meeting with an outburst like that. There it was. It still hurt to hear those words, but in some ways there was a sort of freedom to it. The plaster had been ripped off the wound. There was no going back now. She didn't have a Klingon Bird of Prey and a sun to slingshot around. Jacin ::Speaking carefully:: I apologise SIr. It was not aimed at anyone. I just... Lieutenant Commander R’Ariel has cleared me for duty. Rodan: Whether you’ve been medically cleared for the station or not, something is wrong. ::He paused, leaning forward to meet her gaze. His words were soft.:: Talk to me. TBC Lt.Commander Maz Rodan First Officer USS Arrow, NCC 69829 C237708DW0 & Lieutenant JG Jacin Ayemet Science Officer USS Arrow, NCC 69829 A239810JA2

((Counseling Suite, Deck 3 -- U.S.S Arrow)) It was that time once more. But this time, it was a time R’Ariel and Chloe had agreed upon. Chloe could’ve asked R’Ariel to meet her in her quarters, or in R’Ariel’s, for that matter. But the counseling suite was a nice, soothing yet neutral location, Chloe thought. So, she offered to meet R’Ariel there. This was it. Chloe, nervous yet determined, pressed the chime to R’Ariel’s suite, and waited… oO Must be Chloe, Remember R’Ariel, no touching. Oo The little counselor chuckled in amusement at her own mental notes. Of course it was Chloe. She looked for something to hold in her hands, to remove the temptation to touch. She hopped down from her desk to open the door. The light fabric of her little green dress danced accordingly, a padd of medical reports clutched mindfully in both hands. R’Ariel: Please come in. A smile on the hybrid’s lips, a padd in her hands, and a strong determination to unselfishly get to what it was that Chloe needed to discuss with her. All these painful revelations, discoveries, and such would have to wait. The only exception, being she would probably have to tell Chloe at some time about the amplification issue, but that could wait. The doors hissed open not a moment later. Chloe paused, looked into the room. She felt herself tense for a moment, but seeing R’Ariel almost immediately relaxed her. Wordlessly, she stepped into the suite, waiting for the doors to close behind her. Waters: Thank you. R’Ariel: How are you? ::a smile on her lips:: You know Counselors aren’t supposed to play favorites, but… She teased truthfully,and led the way. Taking her traditional perch up on the desk, and gesturing for Chloe to take the usual seat. Chloe kept her eyes on R’Ariel for a moment. She seemed to be rather occupied. Had she interrupted something? She took up the indicated seat, responding to R’Ariel as she moved. Waters: I am fine, thank you. I hope the same is true of yourself. A pause. She was ready to tell R’Ariel what she wanted, but she still didn’t have the slightest idea how. Her confidence dwindled, replaced by quiet uncertainty. She didn’t feel hesitant, simply… confused. How was one supposed to approach something like this? R’Ariel: Recovering like the rest of the crew from that ordeal. She gestured to the padd she had laid on the desk next to her. It was an honest response, and a determined one to keep Chloe’s purpose at the front-center. She didn’t have to be touching Chloe’s hand to sense she had great purpose in this visit. R’Ariel: More than anything, at this moment, I am here to lend any assistance I can. She directed to her the fullest empathic attention. R’Ariel’s response gave Chloe the time she needed to tentatively settle on an approach. Waters: I need some… help. I… find myself in something of an uncertain situation. I must tell someone something… but I do not know how to begin. I have never dealt with anything like this before. Once again, the empathic counselor found herself swimming in some pretty intense feelings and emotions, which she chose to be mindful, that Chloe’s crown was an amplifier, so that meant that she had to be careful not to jump to conclusions about what those feelings meant. Whatever they felt like they were, she had to assume, the real emotions and feelings were something much less. R’Ariel: oO If I were to take these feelings at full value, I’d say… no, ugly R’Ariel, that’s silly. Just let her talk. Help her express the words she needs to find. Oo The little counselor, leaned forward from her desk perch, the tip of her tail casually flipping from left to right, beating a simple tattoo on the desk. R’Ariel: I am honored that you have chosen to tell me. I hope that I can help. ::She bit her lip thoughtfully, gently:: Sometimes, we just need to clear the space in our mind, and say it out loud. Then once our ears hear it, another part of our brain can help us see it more clearly. She bit her lip again, gently. If she took the feelings she felt in Chloe and boiled them down to something less amplified, then perhaps it was time to affirm their friendship. She spoke again, adding something straight from the heart. R’Ariel: You know, you can tell me anything, you are my dear friend, and I promise that nothing you tell me will ever change that. It’s one of the most important things I have in this life. Friend? The word stuck out to Chloe immediately. Her mind was already racing before R’Ariel spoke. It couldn’t possibly get any faster. R’Ariel didn’t know the feelings were for her… did she? Could she? Was this all about to be for nothing? Chloe took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, eyes drifting down to her lap for a moment, then back to the woman who had inspired so much change in her. Waters: There is someone I feel close to. Someone who inspired me. Helped me. To change… and grow. Pushed me to become more in ways I don’t think they know. R’Ariel focused carefully on each spoken word, she had to. The emotions and feelings in the room were so intense, they were exciting, and yet a little disorientating, much like staring at the sun. Waters: They are a very dear friend. And yet… R’Ariel: Yes? You need to express those feelings, those intense feelings. The counselor was on the edge of her seat, or rather the desk. The energies in the room were building, and she was getting excited to be let in on these special developments. She felt very included, and excited for Chloe, and still again, very very included. Waters: I feel… that there is something more. I want. I… hope. But… I do not know how to tell them. What should I do? This was it… Chloe mentally stole herself for whatever would come next. Was she doing the right thing? R’Ariel: oO Not my greatest area of expertise, but still exciting. Like what Captain Shayne and Commander Ash MacKenna have, mysterious and beautiful in its special way. Proof that head knowledge and heart knowledge are not the same thing. Oo She leaned back on her hands, and chose her words carefully. She did not need to dredge up her own past experiences and scars on the issue. She was determined to be there for Chloe, and not make any of this about herself, after all she was the Counselor, removing your own feelings from the situation, and putting others in the light was what Counselors did, friends too. R’Ariel: I would think that whoever this person is, would have to know already, at least to some degree, how you feel. In which case, it is usually a good idea to just tell them. She pondered her words for a moment, trying very hard not to read too much into the feelings in the room, and perhaps even trigger another empathic episode. She noted once again, it took a lot more concentration to think clearly. R’Ariel: The only time that it is usually advisable not to share is when that person has already made their unavailability known, for whatever reason, such as already being with someone else or some other reason. Then the best expression of those special feelings are to show them the courtesy of respect for their taken position. The little counselor nodded to herself, inside her own head, as she played with the hem of her little green dress. R’Ariel: oO That’s what the professor always said, he is very smart. Oo Chloe nodded slowly. Now, she sat in silence. She was energized, her mind was whirling. She needed a moment. Deep breath. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. It was much harder than it should have been for Chloe to clear her head, to distance herself from her surface thoughts. So many what if’s ran around in her head. But after a little while longer, she eventually managed to calm her thoughts. Slowly, she rose from the couch. Moving towards R’Ariel, she stopped a few feet from her. Close, but not so far as to be threatening or as invading R’Ariel’s comfort zone, wherever that might be. A small pause. Chloe tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking on R’Ariel’s face. Then… Waters: It’s… you, R’Ariel… Chloe’s crown, which adjusted is volume based on environmental factors and the strength of Chloe’s thought, barely whispered her words. She held her breath, and waited. R’Ariel: oO Idiot professor, what does he know on the romance subject, he’s a Vulcan. Oo The half Caitian-Deltan blinked. Her tail stopped its gentle sway, along with the rest of her body- all muscles frozen in place. It seems all her energies went into trying to process the myriad of thoughts and feelings that flooded her mind and body. Some thoughts and emotions were hers, others were Chloe’s. The distinction was complicated. R’Ariel: oO Shame on you, R’Ariel that’s very speciest of you to look down on Vulcans on this subject! oO She blinked again, seemingly that was the only physical muscle set that worked at the moment, an involuntary one at that. It was amazing how quickly thoughts could rumble about in the mere passing of long long micro-seconds. R’Ariel: oO Shut up R’Ariel, this is not the time to argue about that! Say something, and not about Vulcans or professors-speak. Speak from the heart.Oo She felt her chest tighten. R’Ariel: oO Ouch, my heart. Oo The speechless Counselor found her smile-muscles and returned an affectionate smile, full of tender caring feelings, while her eyes betrayed her surprise. R’Ariel: What a beautiful surprise. You know I don’t get surprised often. How ever did you manage to keep it a secret this long? I am so honored. Chloe watched R’Ariel come to grips with what she had said, seeming to accept it. But so far, she hadn’t seen much in the way of reciprocation. But she hadn’t been rejected… yet. A good sign? She let out her held breath, and all she wanted to do was collect R’Ariel in her arms. Squeeze her, and never let go. But would R’Ariel want the same thing? Waters: I did not know how to show you… to tell you, how I felt. I did not know how to process it for the longest time. While I was opening up socially, I was still closed in other ways. You… the feelings I had for you. They helped me open up to other things. Chloe gestured down at the dress she was wearing. Similar to R’Ariel’s, though this one was a bright red shade. R’Ariel: Beautiful… . You are beautiful. Chloe couldn’t contain her desires anymore. She had processed, she had waited, she had grown, she had prepared for months. Now it was all out in the open. For the first time in her life, she made a split second, impulsive decision. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around R’Ariel and held her tightly. This single act brought her closer to anyone than she had ever felt before, and for a time the entire world seemed to dissolve around her. There was only the feeling of another person in her arms, the sound of her heart pounding in her chest, of R’Ariel breathing. R’Ariel’s unique scent. These things occupied Chloe’s senses, and it took Chloe every ounce of strength she had to keep her firewall up. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t aware of her waking thoughts. They didn’t matter. Nothing did except this moment. As for R’Ariel, lost in a very new moment, she forgot the physical limitations she had been placing between them, and welcomed the embrace. The feelings were powerful, beautiful, breathtaking while heart stopping too. R’Ariel: oO Wow. Oo The hybrid pulled back and teetered on her feet, quickly finding the desk for support on her feet. She tried to pull off a casual, if frazzled chuckle. R’Ariel: Anyone ever tell you that, your touch is a bit magical! Waters: No. Has anyone told you that yours is? R’Ariel: oO Never. Oo It was a genuine question. Whether it was Chloe simply slipping an arm around R’Ariel, resting a hand on her, or now embracing her as she had done, she always felt as if she were submerging herself in warm, gently lapping waters. R’Ariel: Actually, I’m having a hard time processing strong empathic or telepathic signals, especially through physical contact. Chloe’s expression turned concerned. Was she overwhelming R’Ariel with her contact? Was this a general thing she experienced? Waters: Is there anything I can do to help? She shook her head, and stole a ragged breath. R’Ariel: Maybe give me a moment’s reprieve from this wonderful moment? The little hybrid gratefully took the offered physical space between them. There were so many things to feel. So many things to say. Yet, trying to find the words was proving nearly impossible. She wasn’t like most people, a hybrid of potent yet still emerging empathic and telepathic talents. Chloe wasn’t like most people either. She was a vibrant person, who had overcome many limitations, to develop an amazing kind of telepathy herself, very gifted in her own right, in many many ways. It wasn’t any wonder that there would be a drawing of the two of them together. All these thoughts swam around in her head, mixing with Chloe’s, in a special kind of union, a special kind of relationship that could never be found anywhere else, again. Waters: Take all the time you need, R’Ariel. I’m not going anywhere. True to her word, Chloe stood exactly where she was. She watched R’Ariel, smiling warmly, filled with a contentment she had never known before. She did it. Finally, R’Ariel knew what Chloe had wanted her to know for so long. She hoped R’Ariel felt the same… but if she didn’t? That was okay, she thought. A long moment passed while R’Ariel caught her breath and regained some more of her physical senses. R’Ariel: I am so glad you told me. ::she scratched her left ear with an intensity that left it sore:: . I suppose I never thought anyone could ever have such feelings for me. ::she swallowed hard at a lump in her throat that remained:: I’m neither attractive as a Caitian, nor attractive as a Deltan. I carry a great deal of love in my heart, and it is undeniable that I care for you, deeply. Waters: I am not attracted to you as a Caitian, or a Deltan. I am attracted to you, R’Ariel, the warm, wonderful person you have repeatedly shown yourself to be. Anything else is irrelevant to me. I accept you as you are. It is not the body which defines the person, no matter their appearance. It is not their race. It is their mind. Yours is a delight. R’Ariel: oO My mind is a trip right now. Oo She returned to scratch her left ear, abandoning it mid-itch as the soreness forbid she touch it further. R’Ariel: You overwhelm me Chloe. She allowed a heart-warmed smile to play with her features. R’Ariel: Only, I can’t tell you exactly how I feel, as our connection, I feel what you feel, literally, your actual feelings. You will need to give me some time, I'm afraid, to sort out what feelings actually belong to me. She struggled desperately to find the words to explain herself. R’Ariel: Being an empath is great for helping others, but does very little for knowing yourself. Whatever they feel, you feel. It’s quite a bumpy ride. The stronger the connection you feel with someone, the more this identity issue gets confused. One thing for sure, Chloe, what we have is special, it would have to be, as you are special. Waters: You can take all the time you need, I understand. I wish to explore this with you. But only when, or if, you may wish to. I came here to do one thing. I’ve done what I came here to do. R’Ariel: Takes a lot of courage, and I am proud of you. I wish I could say the same for myself, I just can’t seem to feel my brain. She tried her hand at a playful laugh. Waters: Not yet. But I’ll- Something suddenly occurred to Chloe. She reached up to her head and removed her crown, placing it on R’Ariel’s desk. Now, R’Ariel could clearly see her flame red hair in its natural form, as it flowed freely down her back. She smiled softly at R’Ariel. Waters: oO Is this better? Oo The hybrid blinked, as a sudden numbness began to ease, a kind of pressure lifted to some degree. R’Ariel: Yes, it is actually. She smiled, able to collect some more of her own thoughts. R’Ariel: You have been refreshingly and beautifully honest with me, and I am very touched. You have held a special place in my heart for some time now, I’ve known that. I meant what I said about our friendship being very precious to me. I just need some time to seek this out, to be honest and fair to you. I need to find my own feelings, and I have certain Starfleet guidelines that must be consulted. Being Deltan and all, just for starters. Waters: oO You can take all the time you need. I will be easy to find when you are ready. Oo R’Ariel: Response Waters: oO Until then. I will simply say… whatever happens. You mean much to me. Oo With that, Chloe picked up her crown and held it in her hand. Not putting it on just yet she reached out, resting her hand on R’Ariel’s for the briefest of moments. With that touch still lingering, she slowly turned, walking out of R’Ariel’s office feeling much lighter than she had when she entered. She did it. (FADE TO BLACK) ************************************************************************************* Lieutenant Commander Chloe Waters Helmswoman USS Arrow, NCC-69829 ****************************** Podcast team member ****************************** Writer ID: E239601CW0 ************************************************************************************* & Lieutenant Commander R'Ariel Chief Medical Officer Counselor Doctor of Psychology USS Arrow J239706R1

(( Dakora Family Home, Medara, Betazed – 2374 )) By the temporal machinations of what was apparently a member of the Q Continuum, Talos had come to find himself sitting in the basement of his family home with two of his Excal crewmates and his mother. Somewhere between their slog through the fouled drainage pipes and arriving at Leera Dakora's door, they'd managed to hit a tourist-focused souvenir shop. This was why he'd come to find himself in cargo shorts and a Hawaiian print shirt, instead of the 2370's era Starfleet uniform that would've drawn unwanted attention. T.Dakora: ::Swallowing.:: Holy strokes these are good. Thank you. The beachwear only added to the oddity of the situation when his mother had brought them a tray of shrimp-like oscoid and crab cakes. If it wasn't for the whole stuck-in-the-wrong-time-in-the-middle-of-a-warzone thing, the experience might've been a bit more pleasant. Niac: Thank you, ma'am. It's delicious. Have you heard any news in the last few hours? Seen anyone else on the streets? The last stand of the BSDF and the volunteers would be ending soon, if it hadn't already and the Dominion forces would start to pour into the city proper in the coming hours. He knew, because he remembered it. A few meters above them, the 8 year old version of him was peeking out the second story window waiting to see what happened. MacKenzie: I can’t imagine the resistance is fairing particularly well… Talos winced a little, risking a glance towards his mother. It was easy to be blasé about it from a historical context, but Leera's entire world was turning upside down. War had come to her doorstep and tomorrow wasn't guaranteed. Leera's expression hardened, almost imperceptibly, but Talos could feel the tangle of emotions within her. L.Dakora: We don't have a standing army. ::Her words grew an edge.:: We depend on Starfleet to protect us, which in hindsight, may have been a mistake. ::She sighed.:: But you're correct, the public nets were reporting Dominion Forces breaking through the defensive lines just before they went down. In Talos' memories, she had always seemed so formidable, always with a plan; the warm unrelenting shelter from all that raged against them in the outside world. Here and now, he wondered how the petite woman who had never, to his knowledge, raised her fist in anger had gone on to play a significant role in the coming insurgency. She seemed to become aware that he was studying her and he quickly tried to shift the attention away from it. T. Dakora: We appreciate your hospitality. ::He bowed his head a little.:: We were just discussing our next move. We don't want our presence to put you or your family at risk. It was an oddly self-serving statement, but he meant it. Niac: Thank you, ma'am. Is there any chance you have access to a watercraft? Yacht? Hydroplane? Hell, I'd take a canoe and a bent oar at this point. They didn't. Not that Talos knew, but he turned to his mother for a response anyway. L.Dakora: I'm afraid I don't, bu- ::She paused, seemingly remembering something.:: Actually, I have something that may help... Niac: We hate to impose on you further but there's a small chance some of our friends are...on the other side of the bay. If we can get to them we might be able to figure out a way...back to our ship. Hopefully. She crossed the room to a box of miscellaneous items that he was pretty sure was the last of his father's possessions that he'd yet to retrieve following their separation. She pulled out a small access chit on a lanyard and handed it to Talos. L.Dakora: My ex-husband used to pay for a membership to the yacht club for the "diplomatic connections". He never had a boat, but perhaps it will grant you access? Talos placed the lanyard around his neck, examining the the chit bearing the names "Vostro Dakora" and "Medara Yacht Club" emblazoned on it. T.Dakora Thank you. ::He smiled warmly.:: I'm sure this will help. MacKenzie: ::bowing slightly:: We are in your debt. Let’s go. As MacKenzie and Niac made their way up the stairs, Talos held back for just a moment. T.Dakora: Give me a sec, I'll be right behind you. There was every chance that he'd never see his mother again and even if she only knew him as a random Starfleet Officer, he wanted to say some kind of goodbye. Niac and MacKenzie made there way up the stairs and he turned to face Leera Dakora one last time. T.Dakora: Again, Thank you for opening your home to us. We truly had nowhere else to go. Her smile returned, the slightest hint of sadness tinting it, just a little. L.Dakora: It was the right thing to do. ::She stood a little straighter.:: Clearly the universe needs people who are willing to do the right thing, even if it's hard. Talos felt warmth spreading around his eyes as he struggled to maintain his composure while simultaneously doing what he could to mask his emotions. He caught the hint of motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to see himself, but smaller peeking down the stairs at him. T.Dakora(33yo): Holy Strokes! You got the drop on me, little man. The younger version of himself scrunched up his face in confusion and slowly stepped out from around the corner. T.Dakora(8yo): Holy... Strokes? What does that mean? He glanced at his mother, then to the curious kid before him. T.Dakora(33yo): Oh, I don't know, It's just something I heard from some soldier when I was... ::Beat.:: A kid... He tried not to think about the implications of that particular revelation, lest he cause his brain to unravel in some kind of hitherto unknown recursive predestination paradox. Talos glanced at Leera apologetically, wanting very much to embrace her one last time, but not seeing any avenue that wouldn't make things very weird. T.Dakora(8yo): Cool. I can't wait to tell Hanny! He then dashed back up the stairs, presumably to do just that. Not wanting to keep his crewmates waiting any longer, he faced his mother one final time. He was unsure what to say, he didn't have time to explain the situation and even if he did, the ramifications of doing so were unknown. Talos let his eyes linger on her face one last time, trying to store it in some part of his memory that would never fade, trying to keep a snapshot of the way her mind felt to stow away in his heart. There just wasn't time. When he spoke, the sadness found it's way into his voice, whether he wanted it to or not. T.Dakora(33yo): Take care, Leera. Her eyes found his and for the briefest of moments, he thought he saw a spark of recognition. L.Dakora: You take care as well, Yogan. One foot in front of the other, he forced himself to turn and make his way up the stairs, his vision blurring on the edges as the tears came. L.Dakora: ~Or may I still call you Little Bear?~ He nearly jumped as her words played across his mind and he spun to face her just as a white flash enveloped his field of view completely. TBC ((OOC: I'll be answering my open tags in another sim to follow shortly. 😁)) ======//////======> LtJG Talos Dakora Acting Chief Intelligence Officer USS Excalibur-A O238811CD0

Yesterday was that day. You know, the last day I ever saw him. Touched him. Breathed in his scent and felt his warmth mingle with mine. It was said that everyone has a last time with the people they cared for, and that we never knew when that time would be. I guess I just never expected it to be now. The night had come and passed in much the way it always had. Nightmares clipped at the edge of my consciousness, and I was ever so thankful not to remember them. As my eyes fluttered open, I felt suddenly lost. The bulkhead was different. The windows were different, as were the way the stars sat beyond them. The bed was different. The room itself was different. And as I rolled over to make sure he was there, to feel him and confirm with that touch against that old ugly nightshirt, or the hair on his arm that he was really truly there, I realized my situation. The bed was empty, and all I found with my wanting fingers was the sheet, cold and barren as a full on Andorian winter. Whoever said that emotional pain was somehow less than physical pain must never have experienced the waves that hit next. The loss and sudden flood of the prior night’s memories opened a pit beneath me and my chest started aching. It was as if someone was stabbing me, or that my heart had simply stopped. I gasped for air between the sobs and buried my face in my already damp pillow, made so by the tears that had led me to an exhausted sleep. More memories flooded back, more tears flooded my already tired eyes, and my body shook with the pain that radiated from my mind in the shadow of the event. One phrase kept thrusting its way into the front of my mind. ‘I’m alone…’ And the sobs renewed with more fervor than before. Time faded. What was time anyways? It was the endless march of potential that was rarely realized. It was the kinetics of mental anguish as it worked itself out and made its attempts to get into your mind. It was the path that led to death, eventually, but for some, it might have led to life as well. For me? Time was but the enemy now. It could end. I did not need it anymore. But then a message popped up. Good morning, best friend. Exhausted, teary eyes blinked, and the draw was instant. After all, where did the broken hearted go? Back to their best friend. Always back to their best friend. I scrambled to answer, but I was weak. The message sent back was short. Pointed. And more than anything, understood. It hurts. Pain of this depth was not new, unfortunately, but it also led to dangerous depths. Darkness threatened to overtake me, and had it not been for a well timed ‘good morning’, it very well may have. For a moment, the tears slowed. Just hold on. The chill of the room, the silence that proved the lacking, and the stillness of the very air around me all served as reminders. He was gone. And now I had to remain. Hold on? How? To what? More importantly, why? Without a thought as to how, I was up and moving. Time and space in separation could not stop me. I was desperate. I had already lost it all, so what more was there to lose? There were plenty of things to be said for the physical proximity of those you loved, and with my heart aching as it was, I knew that was what I needed. Shoes were haphazardly thrown on, and a uniform was tossed together. Rankless, without having brushed my hair I was out the door. And in a matter of hours, I was rewarded with all that I could ask for in that moment. Here, then, was a reason to hold on. Touch spoke volumes in places where other senses were dulled. Thus, it was the feel of my best friend there, real and present, that anchored me in a way I could not explain. Around us, the tall towers of the station rose, and people came and went, but patience and strength held me as I wanted to crumble. I worked to commit to memory the feel of everything, from the feel of his skin, to the fabric of his shirt, because even now I realized that there would come a last day with him as well. My heart ached perhaps worse then…but I did what I could to remember that today was all that we had. And today was going to be good.

Out of context...

Hahahahahaha...

And then...

Favorite signature ever. For anyone who wasn't there, there will be questions...

(( [...]pit, USS Palisade )) Excalibur. Ambro dropped out of warp, keyed in a few commands on the engineering console, then activated the comm system and opened a channel. Regillensis: =/\= Palisade to Excalibur. Come no closer. My ship is now venting warp plasma both inside the cabin and out into space. If you open fire on me, you’ll set off an explosion that will destroy my ship. Ambro sneered as the image of Betazoid medical officer and illegitimate-son killer Genkos Adea appeared on the sideboard display. The man’s response was unexpectedly taciturn. Adea: =/\= Understood. =/\= Uncertain why Adea was so calm in the face of such news, Ambro raised the stakes. Regillensis: =/\= And I wouldn’t attempt using the transporter, either. The beam would also destabilize the plasma with a similar effect. =/\= Adea: =/\= Well then, we seem to be at an impasse Admiral. =/\= Did they know something he didn’t? Why weren’t they reacting more? Ambro’s fingers tapped at his console to key in a command sequence while his eyes remained trained on the screen. Regillensis: =/\= You and your Trill sidekick were amusing enough, Commander, but I’ve grown tired of dealing with you. Go collect your girlfriend and get on with your life. =/\= Adea: =/\= I’m afraid you’re not going to just walk away from this, Admiral. =/\= Before Ambro could cut the transmission himself, Adea did so, and the screen returned to a sensor analysis of whatever god-forsaken corner of the Borderlands they happened to be situated in. Ambro didn’t like how subdued Adea was; it made him feel uneasy. The warp plasma had saturated the air in the cabin and the surrounding space outside, turning his position into a volatile bomb just waiting for a lit fuse. He clamped down the vents and prepared to jump back to warp, but his ship refused to comply. Regillensis: Computer, why is the warp drive offline? Computer: Elevated antileptons in the vicinity are preventing the establishment of a stable warp field. Ambro wished he had a PADD handy so he could chuck it at the wall. Instead, he settled for a sharp contact between the heel of his hand and the edge of his control panel. The clock was ticking, and he was running out of options. A moment later, the ship shuddered as a tractor beam locked on. Regillensis: Quid nunc faciam? The warp core was useless to him as propulsion, but it might yet save him another way. His hands and his voice worked in tandem, the result of years of practice in the art of saying and doing two different things at once. Regillensis: Computer, if anyone attempts to beam me off of this ship, execute the following commands in sequential order. Computer: Acknowledged. As he got up from his seat, he briefly mused at the computer’s efficient and unquestioning compliance. This might have been the last time he gave an order that was actually followed. Assuming there wasn’t much time left to act, Ambro collected a handful of personal effects from one of the aft compartments. Then he made a mad dash for his private quarters to collect one last thing. (( Flashback – Presidio, San Francisco, Earth – 2376 )) Regillensis: Smile! B. Wyke: Oh, Ambro, why don’t you get in the picture with us this time? Ambro lowered the holo-imager’s viewfinder from eye level. She always asked, and he always evaded. Regillensis: You don’t want my face messing up an otherwise perfect portrait, now do you, Babs? B. Wyke: Ambrosius, please. We don’t have any pictures of the three of us. L. Wyke: Please, pater? Ambro’s 10-year-old son looked at him with hopeful eyes. Whenever he looked at his most special son, he felt as though he could see into a thousand potential futures, each one brighter than the last. Whatever Liam went on to become, Ambro knew he would be the best at it. His eyes drifted from his son back to Barbara. B. Wyke: Just this once? The combined persuasive force of Liam and his mother was too much for Ambro to resist, and he flagged down a passer-by to take a picture of their little unauthorized family unit. Before handing over the holo-imager to the volunteer, a cheerful Human female called Helga, Ambro engaged the encryption protocol. If an image of him with Barbara and Liam was going to exist, at least he could prevent the creation of additional copies without his access code. Helga: Say cheese! SNAP. (( End Flashback )) Twenty-two years later, there still existed only one image of Ambro and Liam together: the one of their perfect day together on the Presidio. Ambro opened the drawer of his bedside table and fished around inside to retrieve the data chip containing the holophoto, and his heart skipped a beat when his hand failed to grasp it. The space around him became illuminated in transporter-beam-blue, and he vanished, leaving the photo behind. Computer: Initiating program Regillensis-Alpha-One. Immediately, every console in the captain’s yacht crackled with the combined action of a computer core wipe and an EPS overload. Moving from aft to bow, the computer virus disabled every section of the ship in turn, save the warp core, which was itself ten seconds from a breach. (( Brig, Deck 3, USS Excalibur-A — moments later )) Materializing inside a holding cell, Ambro arrived a few moments before his things, which beamed into the controlled access area across the room and outside of his reach. oO Ambrosius, please. We don’t have any pictures of the three of us. Oo He sat down on the bench-by-day-bunk-by-night and let out an exhausted sigh. Surely someone, he presumed Adea and Yalu, would be along shortly to welcome him aboard. He wished he’d taken more pictures. Tag / TBC MSPNPC Rear Admiral Ambrosius Corvus Regillensis Starfleet Intelligence Czar Borderlands Sector Justin D238804DS0

((Lakonna City, Welne residence)) Sitting at his desk, in the library, Welne looked outside to the rain drops falling in the window. He usually didn’t have any trouble writing. He loved pouring his imagination into words on the white sheet of paper. Today he couldn't. He was fighting to put his notes into a proper text, every time he tried Welne ended up caught in thousands thoughts, all connected, all related. How much have things changed. How fast. Welne scrolled through his notes about the recent attack on the dressing factory. He always tried to convey the news evenly, honestly, without taking sides. This time he found it difficult. The shop was burned down. The owner was in tears as the building became a pile of black ash. Almost by divine intervention, and the hard work of the Constabulary and neighbours, the fire didn't spread. From what Welne found out the fire was started by one of the protesters. The other side of this malevolos event. The reason for that? Machinery. A machine the size of his dinner table. Actually several. Mister Faiate, the owner of the place, invested in the recently invented sewing machine. It still required eight to ten workers to operate each machine, but with the cheap work force that was sweeping Lakonna, he managed to replace most of his former workers, cut on wages, and increased his work rate. Now, in one week work, they could produce suits, pants, shirts, coats, that would take them months to finish. Until today. Former workers went to protest outside the factory, tempers ran high and when the Constabulary force tried to disperse them it only made things worse. There was no official report, but Welne knew at least seven protesters were killed. Seven lives were wasted, as was Mr. Faiate’s. Although he was the owner, one of the Privileged, he had invested everything there, and now he lost it all. And wasn’t it ironic, how when he fired most of his Labourers he had made them lose their substance. Another battle between classes. That was what was troubling him, how could he be impartial and just report this. His thoughts were pushed away from the knock on the door. Without asking permission Woira entered the library. Woira: Abuz it’s dinner time. Welne smiled at her, as she made her way to him. She was growing into a beautiful Demesian, looking like his late wife Moira. But her eyes were his, as was the sharp mind she had been blessed with. She stopped near him and looked at the empty page, resting a hand on his shoulder as she gave him a gentle squeeze. Woira: I remember you and Akrayzy calling me for dinner. Now is it the other way around? Welne smiled affectionately at her. The shortened names they all shared around the house made him forget the troubles outside. Yet it was also a reminder of how time was passing. Welne: How things change my oldest Bitty. Woira jumped on his desk, something she always loved to do when she was younger. But now they weren't at the same eye level, being almost as tall as him, Welne needed to lock up from his seat. Woira: Perhaps. If they didn’t I would still be small. You want to know what I think Abuz? Welne nodded, curious as to what she was about to say. Welne: Of course, I always encouraged all of you to speak freely. Tilting her head Woira held his hand, now almost the same size, although her’s was much prettier. And it didn’t have any calluses from writing. Woira: I think some things have to change, so they can grow. But although different, the important things remain the same. With a wide smile she pulled herself out of the desk with a jump. For a second, for Welne, she was not fifteen anymore, she was back being his seven year old Bitty. Straightening herself she raised her hand. Woira: Does it make sense? Welne nodded, took her hand and stood. Welne: Very much. I think I understand what you mean. Now let us have dinner. Maybe that was it. Still, caught in a family moment Welne tried to push aside the thought that clouded him. oO Change brings growth. But at what cost? Oo TBC MSNPC Welne Journalist Lakonna Gazette as simmed by Lt. J. G. Vitor S.Silveira Tactical Officer USS Excalibur-A, NCC-41903-A O238907VS0