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Everything posted by Saveron

  1. No one wants to see those skinny Vulcan ribs Rue.
  2. That's awesome! I had a good giggle over my morning cup of tea. All machines need a 'just do it' button. Ji-hu, Saveron did consult Georgio, but whilst his suggestion held a significant aesthetic appeal, the Vulcan didn't feel that it met the requirements for 'full formal':
  3. (( Quarters T’Reshik )) :: Ever since Siance had found out who T’Reshik’s parent was, she had fought with herself to come to a conclusion for the question if she should tell her or not. Taurek hadn’t been any help, like at all, leaving it all in her hands. Who did he think she was? She was only a Cadet, at the beginning of her studies and he pushed that decision right into her lap, glued it to her pants so it couldn’t get away and told it to stay there. The young Trill had been so out of it, that she completely forgot her own plans for the time being, and instead had paced a hole into her carpet, to the dismay of her roommate, who had really liked that carpet. :: :: But after a lot of soul searching, especially in her own past, in which she had not ever met her father who left after knocking up her mom, she would have wanted to know and so decided to tell T’Reshik. The next day she spent with trying to plan in her head what she wanted to say and how and if she even wanted to say anything, or just give the Vulcan woman the information. And now still battling over that, she had found her way to T’Reshik’s quarters, thanks to the computer telling her that she was here at the moment. :: :: For at least five minutes she paced back and forth, trying to summon the courage to hit that buzzer, as if she herself was the long lost mother. Eventually she had to press it, because Vulcans were contact telepaths as much as she knew and so she wouldn’t know that someone waited out here to be let in. How nice would that be, though? In a moment of either madness or bravery -they were so close together it was scary- Siance finally pressed the buzzer and cursed at herself in her head the second she realized what she had done. :: :: There was a pause, then T’Reshik appeared at the door, wearing a simple robe, and looking mildly unimpressed, as usual.:: T’Reshik: Yes? Thyar: Uh… hi. I hope I’m not disturbing. T’Reshik: You are, but that is irrelevant. Why are you here? Thyar: ::Holding the PADD in her hands she slightly shuffled her feet.:: I got the information you requested. :: The Vulcan paused. Awkwardness wasn't usually a part of T’Reshik’s emotional vocabulary, for various reasons, but her eyes might have reflected it for a moment then. She took a breath.:: T’Reshik: Then I owe you an apology. I only requested that information in order to make you leave the room. As you might understand, I was… making irrational decisions at the time. ::She looked at the PADD. The truth was that Siance had caught her in the middle of a detailed search through the ship’s personnel files to finish the job that Choi had started, and part of her really wanted to hear what the Trill cadet had to say. But there was a difference, a huge difference, between wanting to find answers, and letting other people know that. She had no doubt that Siance would report straight back to her department after this. That meant either Taurek, who hadn't yet been eliminated (although she deemed him an unlikely candidate, for various reasons) or Saveron, who would inevitably try to get involved with helping her accept the truth of her origins, or whatever pseudo-scientific psychological crap counsellors were into these days. No… that was not a favourable outcome.:: T’Reshik: So… I am not interested. You can leave now. ::The Trill stared at the Vulcan and felt that fiery ball in her stomach. She had what? Siance couldn’t believe it and struggled to find words for a moment. Still standing in the hallway, she tried to calm herself by taking a deep breath, but feared she would fail tremendously.:: Thyar: May I come in? ::pressing through her teeth:: T’Reshik: Why? Thyar: ::It took another moment to not just blurt out what was going on in her mind and instead replied with a strained voice:: Because it would be beneficial to both of us if I don’t lose it in the hallway where everyone can listen to what I have to say and to whom. :: T’Reshik began to suspect that Siance might be a little angry. She decided to try and mitigate the situation. :: T’Reshik: Very well. :: She backed up in the chair, allowing Siance to enter. In stark contrast to Choi’s room, T’Reshik’s was clear and orderly and almost entirely devoid of personality. Only the subtle adaptations for accessibility and the active console in the corner even suggested the presence of a regular inhabitant.:: :: The young Trill stepped inside and waited for the door to close. She had inherited one thing that surely didn’t come from her mother’s side. When she was angry, her voice got quiet and calm. She surely could blow up into people’s faces, but when she got quiet, it was really bad. And right now, her voice did not fit her words. :: Thyar: Listen, I don’t know what you think gives you the right to waste my time with a fool’s errand, but where I come from we tell people to leave if we want them to leave. I don’t care if you really wanted to know who your parents are, but I got the information, so I will give you the bloody information. :: Well all but the last part, that sounded a bit more aggravated.:: ::T’Reshik held her gaze.:: T’Reshik: I was suffering from a severe neurochemical imbalance at the time. Do not expect that I was thinking clearly. Nevertheless, it is not my intention to waste your time further. ::She held out her hand.:: :: Siance looked down on the hand and kept holding the PADD, not ready yet to give it up. :: Thyar: Does that mean you apologize? T’Reshik: If it is that important to you, then yes, I apologise. Thyar: Good. ::She smiled. That was more like it. Though she was surprised, not having expected that T’Reshik would really apologize about anything. She handed over the PADD to the Vulcan.:: T’Reshik: I will read it if and when I have the inclination. Thyar: Okay. ::She hesitated.:: I’ll leave you be then. T’Reshik: Good. ::Pause:: Thank you. :: The young Trill turned to head out but then didn’t step forward. She nibbled her bottom lip before turning around once more.:: Thyar: Would you mind a question, Ensign? ::T’Reshik hesitated.:: T’Reshik: It depends on what the question is. Thyar: Well, I know that Vulcans do the whole Arie'mnu thing with your emotions but, how do you deal with not knowing who are parents are? T’Reshik: I am not certain I understand the question. Besides, I know who my parents are; they are the people who adopted me. It just so happens that I have an extra set. :: The Trill sighed and without asking sat down on the seat and rubbed the ridge of her nose. This was difficult for her and she tried to find words that conveyed what she meant.:: Thyar: Like, do you wonder why they left or gave you up? Why they never tried to contact you? If you weren’t good enough for them? ::T’Reshik scrutinized Thyar for a moment before answering.:: T’Reshik: I do not need to “wonder”. Logical deduction suggests only a limited set of possibilities. :: She didn't look down at the PADD - instead, she lay it aside, face down. She decided not to mention the anonymous message for now. :: T’Reshik: Are you inquiring out of personal interest, or is this an attempt to initiate a counselling session? Thyar: To be honest, it is not about you really. .oO Surprise duh Oo. My father left before I was even born and these are basically the questions I keep asking me ever since I heard it for the first time. :: T’Reshik considered this. She wondered briefly why Siance was sharing this information with her. Perhaps she was having difficulty with her own situation and wished to consult a more organized mind.:: T’Reshik: Did your mother never tell you? Thyar: She told me that he left and after a long time gave me his name. ::She hesitated, should she tell more? She knew where he was after all. But that wasn’t even part of the question right now. So why bother her with that. :: I just never got a chance to ask him all that or even meet him. T’Reshik: Interesting. When faced with a situation such as yours, my immediate response would be to gain control of my emotional reactions before proceeding to find out as much as possible. :: She paused, looking over at the PADD, still facedown. :: T’Reshik: That having been said, your biological origins are only relevant to a certain extent. Your father might have contributed genetic material, but, assuming you had a conventional upbringing, it was your mother who assumed the burden of caregiving; whose choices and behaviour shaped your identity. :: The Trill thought about that. It wasn’t wrong that it was relevant for medical history, but Siance also believed that some interests, or passions would pass on to the children even if they never met and she wondered which parts of her were ‘just like dad’. Her mom had done all she could and made so many sacrifices, but there was always that one part… :: Thyar: Maybe. It still feels like I am missing a part of me. T’Reshik: If your father left of his own accord… has it occurred to you that he might not be worth knowing? :: That was the problem. She had always thought that her father would be this handsome, friendly, kind, successful guy. Her mother had spoken of him in such a good way, other than him leaving before she was born, that she had made up that image in her mind. Combined with the hope that he had a really good explanation it was a recipe to be disappointed, but Siance didn’t see that. :: Thyar: ::She blinked and stared at the Vulcan for a moment, before she found her voice again.:: Of course not. He is my father after all. ::T’Reshik tilted her head.:: T’Reshik: Interesting. Vulcans rarely rely on such arbitrary considerations. Thyar: ::She nodded with a hint of a smile on her defeatedly frowning lips.:: Guess that I’m not a Vulcan then. T’Reshik: That much is apparent. Still, perhaps it might save you some… emotional distress if you were to follow our example. ::She glanced at the PADD again, face down and blank.:: Thyar: ::leaning forward she looked curiously at T’Reshik.:: IF you have the inclination to read the information, will you confront your biological parents? T’Reshik: That depends. Thyar: On what? T'Reshik: I have been operating on the assumption that they both have valid reasons for their lack of presence in my life. Should your information suggest otherwise, I will of course seek clarification. ::And it was interesting, too, what Thyar was saying and what she was omitting. She could conclude, for example, that at least one of them was still alive (and therefore the message was likely to be genuine), if the Cadet was suggesting confrontation as a possibility. Assuming she’d actually read the information herself.:: Thyar: That makes sense, I guess. Though I think that something that they might see as valid could be not seen as such by you. People think differently. T’Reshik: Interesting. Tell me, Cadet. If the truth of your lineage was likely to be unpleasant, even distressing… would you want to know? :: That was an interesting question. Siance was not sure what to think of it or what would could to be unpleasant. Like, if her mother hated the man? Or if they had split up in a bad way? Maybe she just didn’t have enough experience to know what the Vulcan could mean with that. :: Thyar: I guess so. I mean the how it happened or how it ended, does not change that he’s my father or in your case are your parents. T’Reshik: Only if you consider his contribution significant to begin with. :: Siance nodded slightly and let go of a long heavy breath before pushing herself from the seat back to her feet. :: Thyar: Well, if I can do anything else for you or if you want to talk just let me know. I’ll leave you to … whatever you were doing. :: T’Reshik didn't think that was likely, but she stopped short at saying so.: T’Reshik: Thank you, Cadet. Thyar: ::On her way to the door:: And thanks for listening, Ma’am. T’Reshik: That- :: She was about to say something along the lines of that not being necessary, as listening took little to no effort, but wondered if Siance might take that the wrong way. The Cadet had just divulged some personal information of her own, which might have held a significant emotional cost for her, and T’Reshik was never sure where the lines were between friendliness and professionalism when it came to this kind of situation. She erred on the side of caution.:: T’Reshik: You are welcome. Thyar: ::She offered a warm smile to the other woman.:: Have a nice day. :: With that she walked through the opening doors and made herself back to her shared quarters, her shift was over now and she needed time to think. She was so close, and still hadn’t found the courage to visit him. She needed to put a plan together to get finally on with this. :: :: T’Reshik, meanwhile, stared at the doors for a moment or two more before turning back to the PADD. She ran through the situation in her mind, laying out what she already knew.:: :: At least one (and probably both) of her primary caregivers was not her biological parent.:: :: One of her biological parents had recently been in touch with her, using an account that had been accessed from aboard this very ship.:: :: Her parents had kept the truth from her deliberately. :: :: Whatever was in that PADD was highly likely to be the truth. :: :: And yet she made no move to pick it up. She hadn't even wanted Siance to give it to her. Or had she? Perhaps some subconscious part of her had truly feared the possibility of dying without knowing her genetic origins, back there in that isolation room. Well, whatever part that had been, it was obviously a sucker for punishment. Whatever was on that PADD, T’Reshik strongly suspected it wouldn't be easy reading.:: :: It shouldn't even matter. Why did Siance want so badly to know who her father was? He hadn't known her, hadn't cared for her or brought her up, just as T’Reshik’s genetic parents had likely been nothing more than two strangers who happened to find themselves with a child that, in all likelihood, neither of them had wanted.:: ::Abruptly, she grabbed the PADD without looking at it, and dropped it in a desk drawer, which she then slid shut.:: :: Maybe she’d open it again one day. But first she had to convince herself that whatever Siance had written on there, it wasn't who she was. :: A JP by Ensign T'Reshik Science USS Constitution D239311T10 And Cadet 2nd grade Siance Thyar Counseling Trainee simmed by Captain Jalana Rajel Commanding Officer USS Constitution B Image Team Facilitator A238906JL0
  4. Pics or it didn't happen T'Reshik. I love that Jalana's dress shows off her spots.
  5. What's your character wearing to the Awards ceremony? Although he considers the clothing excessively stylised, Saveron is wearing a suit on advice from others.
  6. Not sure if I should grab the holorecorder or the brain-bleach.
  7. (OOC Content warning for allusion to distressing topics) (( USS Avalgariad, 2362 )) :: He kept count in his head of how long it had been since T'Reshik was born. It was entirely irrational, but he could not help thinking of his life as something that had been severed into two halves, 'before' and 'after'. And when the pon farr hit, it was almost eleven years to the day. :: :: He had known it might be difficult. Trauma often resurfaced at times of emotional upheaval, and this was the most emotional he'd been since he was a child. Still. Academic knowledge was one thing; experience was another entirely. He had woken up in a cold sweat in his cabin and gone straight to his console before he could think, marking the transmission as urgent. The call had been answered almost straight away:: Varek: Taurek. Are you well? (( Da-leb, Vulcan, 2350)) :: It was his father, too, who had answered that call twelve years ago, from a civilian comm station on the outskirts of Da-leb city. Taurek had been missing for almost twelve hours. Again, there had been no anger in his father's expression, only the hint of concern. :: Taurek: I am uninjured. Varek: We have been attempting to locate you. :: Pause :: Shivok is dead. He stopped his own heart. We... are told he had sustained defensive injuries. :: The knowledge hit him like a punch to the stomach, and moisture stung at his eyes. Suddenly it was difficult, far too difficult, to speak without his voice shaking. :: Taurek: I am so sorry- Varek: Nobody holds you to blame, my son. Your mother is attempting to locate you now. Can you meet her at the western temple? Do we need to arrange transport for you? :: Shivok had once told him that many Vulcan scholars did not conceive of love as an emotion in its own right. Infatuation, yes, desire, yes, but the state of experiencing a close attachment to another living being was not, in itself, something that required suppression. The drive to protect one's offspring was considered biological and, usually, immutable; it was only logical to protect those with whose lives were closely intertwined with your own.:: :: This interpretation was why the English "I love you" became "I cherish thee" in Vulcan, with all its nuances and omissions. To love as the emotional races did was to add a passive component to the experience, where love could be felt without being enacted, and any outward action was driven primarily by one's inner feelings.:: :: For their people, however, love was a state of being that existed in its expression, like a language with no written form. Or so it was claimed. Before it became too painful to think of those early lessons with his tutor, Taurek had occasionally entertained the idea that the "love is an action" explanation was nothing more than an excuse. :: :: Now, barely able to hold himself together as his father spoke to him from the tiny viewscreen, he suddenly recalled the day he had returned from the local clinic at the age of thirteen, after a difficult conversation in which he had not been able to divine his parents' reactions from their stony and impassive faces.:: ::Pausing at the doors to their home, he realised that an amendment had been made to the small panel which traditionally held the names of the inhabitants, a leftover from the old customs of their clan. Where once had read "T'Rel", in his own uncertain hand, was now replaced by "Taurek" in his mother's.:: (( USS Avalgariad, 2362 )) :: His father must have been asleep, he realized. In Eastern Da-leb time, it was somewhere in the interim between midnight and dawn. And yet here he was, as if nothing was strange about receiving a call from his son in the middle of the night. :: Taurek: My Time is at hand. Varek: ::pause:: Understood. Have you made arrangements? Do you need us there? Taurek: I have. And I do not. I simply... wished for contact. I apologise for the illogic of my decision. Varek: It is normal for your logic to fail you at this time. We are here if you need us, Taurek. :: And he began, finally, to understand why. :: PNPC Ensign Taurek Counselor simmed by Ensign T'Reshik Science USS Constitution D239311T10
  8. I have been greatly enjoying Doctor Foster's antics and dry wit, but that was gold.
  9. ((Deck 2 - USS Constitution)) ::As the evening wore down and everyone started making their way out of the holodeck, Maxwell was happy and content. Honored to be the Constitution's new executive officer, he was equally pleased that he had started that tenure by supping and socializing with his peers. Tired and excited for the days to come, he bid adieu to the last remaining stragglers, setting his program to close and archive once the last visitor left, and made for his quarters for a night of good sleep.:: ::There were few people around the ship at this time of the evening, even though it wasn't terribly late. With the most extreme of protesters detained on Starbase 104, it was once again safe to travel and visit South End Station for visiting ship crews, and that probably explained some of the reduced foot traffic throughout the corridors. The very few he did pass, Maxwell went out of his way to greet them. As contented as he was, it seemed the least he could do to pass on a bit of good cheer to those he met.:: ::Coming up to his quarters, it still felt strange to be all the way up on Deck 2. His stuff had been moved to the executive officer's quarters just that afternoon, and he had only really had time to ensure that Barque was settled before he left for the party. He could almost spit on Jalana's door from here, and it felt like a long time since he had such prestigious digs.:: ::The door opened to darkness, and the unfamiliarity of the quarters left him disoriented for a moment. Were it the daytime, Barque would be waiting at the door for him, but at night the lazy mutt couldn't be bothered to rouse himself off the couch to greet him. Some guard dog. So it wasn't any surprise to Maxwell when the beagle wasn't at the door, considering the late hour. However, the plaintive, almost inaudible whine from the couch was definitely strange.:: Traenor: Barque? Are you okay, boy? ::His eyes were just starting to acclimate to the gloom, and he finally noticed a strange shadow over where the couch was, right where Barque's whine had come from.:: Traenor: Computer, lights. ::The lights did not come on as expected.:: Traenor: ::concerned:: Is anyone there? Noros: Hello, beautiful. ::Maxwell nearly jumped out of his skin in shock. Having come into the quarters proper and allowing the door to close, the cut-off of light from the corridor helped his eyes adjust to the darkness that much quicker and the shadowy blob from the other side of the room resolved into the features of another person sitting on the couch. Hearing that voice, he knew exactly who it was.:: Traenor: Noros Tanna. Lieutenant, what are you doing here? Did you override the lights? ::Barque whined again, a tentative yet urgent sound. The beagle had always been well attuned to the emotional state of his humans, and could likely feel the waves of confusion and exasperation coming off of Traenor. But it couldn't just be that, thought Maxwell, since Barque had whined even before he had known something was amiss.:: Noros: I came to apologize for the other day. I shouldn't have slapped you, Max. Do you apologize for making me angry enough to hit you? Traenor: ::sputtering:: Me, apologize? For what?! You broke into my quarters, an altogether way too common occurrence, and accosted me! ::Barque whined again, accentuating the heightened tension in Noros's raised voice.:: Noros: Come now, Max! You keep leading me on, then pull away when I kiss you? I've heard of playing hard to get, but this is ridiculous! ::Eyes fully accustomed to the dark, Maxwell could now clearly see Tanna sitting on the couch with Barque half on her lap. With one hand gently petting his head, the other had a vise grip on the scruff of his neck. He was being held there against his will, and that likely explained his discomfiture.:: Traenor: ::hissing through gritted teeth:: First, let go of my dog. Second, I have never led you on. I have never professed any attraction towards you in any way, shape, or form. In fact, quite the opposite. I have told you numerous times that I do not appreciate your forward, intrusive personality. Noros: ::laughing, but a hollow, shill sound:: Oh, Max, you're always trying to act so gruff. You should know by now that you don't have to try and impress me. I like you just the way you are, silliness and all. ::She had still not let go of Barque, so Maxwell stormed into the room and grabbed Tanna's offending arm roughly by the wrist. She let go of Barque then, which allowed the beagle to scamper off the couch and towards the bedroom, but she planted her other hand on Maxwell's wrist in return. Her grip was painfully strong, and she only broke it when he released his grip first.:: Noros: ::standing, facing off toe to toe with Traenor:: Don't touch me like that, Max. Why do you always have to make me so angry? Traenor: ::seething:: Oh, you don't know angry, Lieutenant. You'd best leave now before you regret it. ::Tanna's face was screwed up in a nasty scowl, which made her look ghoulish in the pale gleam off the starbase in the windows.:: Noros: Regret it? Why, you going to use your newfound powers to make me pay? Letting your new role as First Officer get to your head? Yeah, I heard about that, even though you 'conveniently' forgot to invite me to your party. Don't power-trip on me, Max. Traenor: Look, Noros, I've taken it easy on you over the years. I've never once raised an official complaint against your infractions against the rules and my personal privacy. I've given you the benefit of the doubt, time and time again, from one ship to another. ::momentarily distracted:: How do you even end up on every ship I serve, anyways? ::back on topic:: But this has to stop. Now, and for good. If that means I have to act within my jurisdiction as executive officer to levy official punishments against you, then I will. Please don't make it come to that, Lieutenant. ::Maxwell earnestly meant that plea. Disciplining officers was never a task to be taken lightly, and he would only do so as a last resort. Besides, he didn't want to air his dirty laundry for his superiors to see, either. Filing reports for Jalana and Starfleet Command to peruse was the last thing that he wanted to happen to this unique and uncomfortable situation that he had allowed to fester for far too long.:: Noros: Oh, yes, First Officer Max. You'd just love that, wouldn't you? Write me up! ::manic, ugly expression on her face:: Tell me this, Max... Did you seduce *this* Captain in order to become first officer, like you did last time? ::It was the lowest of blows, and Maxwell visibly reeled as if she had reached out and punched him in the gut. Maxwell Traenor had loved Renos, the commanding officer of the Darwin, very much; still did, though he tried to deny that to himself. The two of them had tried very hard to keep their doomed relationship private and inconsequential to the operation of the starship. It was Maxwell's eventual inability to do just that, by nearly sacrificing the Darwin and its crew in a suicidal attempt to rescue Renos against all logic and protocol, which had removed him from his first stint as an executive officer. Not only that, but Maxwell had risen to his status through hard work and perseverance, not nepotism. He never would have accepted the role back then if it had, and he and Renos had discussed that extensively. To rend through that raw wound was beyond the pale, and Tanna had to have known that. That she would still choose to sully herself in the muck of his doomed personal life was more than he could bear.:: Traenor: ::face a steeled mask:: Lieutenant Junior Grade Noros Tanna, you are hereby relieved of duty effective immediately. Pending confirmation of said penalty by Captain Jalana Rajel, you will remain relieved of duty until you pass a psychiatric evaluation to prove that you are indeed fit for duty. If you are caught further abusing your security code privileges to violate the privacy of any other individual's private domains, you will be confined to quarters. Do you understand? Noros: ::shock, dismay:: But, Max- Traenor: DO YOU UNDERSTAND? Noros: Yes. ::The edges of Maxwell's vision were graying from stress-induced elevated heart rate and a massive dump of adrenaline in his bloodstream. He was literally seconds away from hyperventilating. It was taking every last iota of his willpower not to fly into a blinding rage.:: Traenor: Leave, now. Before I call Security to escort you out. ::Like a chastised, petulant child, the statuesque Bajoran turned to leave, but paused in the open doorway. She never turned back, but waited, as if anticipating one last parting shot before she completely departed. She was right on the money with that prescient feeling.:: Traenor: And don't you ever invoke Renos's name again, else you'll see just how far I'm willing to abuse my powers. ::The door closed, darkness complete and whole again. The room was silent, but Maxwell wouldn't know for the torrent of blood rushing through his veins that created a cacophony and tempest in his ears that matched his mood. He felt he could weep, but was afraid to let emotion rule unless he lost all control over it.:: Traenor: oO Congratulations, Maxwell. Perfect way to end your first day as first officer. Oo LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor Executive Officer, USS Constitution =/\= Top Sims Contest Facilitator =/\= A239111MT0
  10. ((ACMO’s Office, Sickbay, USS Constitution)) ::It was one of those eternal laws that Sickbay was busy. On a ship the size of the Galaxy-class, there was always someone in need of a doctor’s attention, even if only for a checkup. It wasn’t only in times of crisis that people got sick or injured.:: ::Patience was a virtue in such places, and having been on the other side of the bench, Saveron was content to wait until he could have a private word with T’Reshik’s treating physician.:: Saveron: Doctor Milsap. I am appreciative of your time. :: Jerry stood to welcome the counsellor. :: Milsap: No problem, Commander. Have a seat. ::He waited until Saveron was settled in and sat back down himself.:: Saveron: I wished to speak with you about Ensign T’Reshik; I understand that you are her treating physician. Milsap: If you can call it that. ::There was a hint of regret in his tone.:: From what I’ve been able to find out about...her condition, there ain’t much I can do in the way of treatment. ::That earned him a faint, curious [...] of the head from the Counsellor.:: Saveron: At times it would appear that little has changed since the twenty-third century. ::He considered the situation carefully.:: What does Starfleet Medical know about the condition? ::He knew what Vulcan cultures knew of it of course, so he’d never bothered to look up what Starfleet’s Medical databases had to say about it. Now he was on the outside, looking in, and had no desire to offend the hard-working man sitting across from him.:: Milsap: I admit, I never encountered a Vulcan in pon farr before, so I don’t have any real experience. And all the cases I’ve researched, they didn’t often turn out so well. Saveron: I have noted that has generally been the case. ::He acknowledged.:: I anticipate that the problem is two-fold; a cultural reticence on the subject, and a lack of personal planning, particularly amongst young Vulcans. ::Neither of which was easy to overcome.:: Milsap: ::nodding:: It does seem to be a touchy subject, which I can understand. Lots of young people from all species find it awkward to discuss sexuality with adults. Learning about pon farr is kinda like the Vulcan version of what humans call “the talk”. Except in this case, if you don’t have it, you might die. ::That was truer than Saveron would have liked.:: Saveron: I believe that Terran culture speaks of a tall bird that puts it’s head in the sand to disagreeable situations? ::His tone was dry.:: What do you know about the underlying biology of the situation? Milsap: ::He sat back in his chair.:: Well, it’s a neurochemical imbalance that, if left untreated can cause death within eight days. It can be alleviated with a telepathic mating bond, but that could also bring on the plak tow. Then the patient runs a high fever and becomes irrational and violent, sometimes even unable to speak. And that can be deadly too. ::pause:: It’s pretty nasty, honestly. Saveron: Only if improperly managed. ::He revealed.:: Which is generally the only situation that Starfleet has cause to observe. ::But Jerry was obviously up on what happened in those situations.:: From that basis one would assume that you can deduce what the natural resolution would be. ::If he was serving as a Medical Officer then Saveron would simply have delivered a short lecture on the subject to fill Jerry in. But he wasn’t, he was the Counsellor and his job was to lead people to their own conclusions, especially when he suspected that the knowledge was there, but the cultural inhibitions were preventing the connection. And as a Vulcan he knew all about cultural inhibitions.:: Milsap: The natural resolution, so far as I can tell, is to either mate or fight someone, and T’Reshik don’t seem too keen on either of those. Saveron: That is correct, whilst the latter does not always resolve the situation. ::After you fought someone, you claimed their mate, after all. It was only if you lost the fight that you lost the biological imperative. The patient’s recalcitrance didn’t help the situation.:: Milsap: She’s done a lot of research on the condition, as I’m sure you know, and she thinks she can control the situation with isolation and meditation, and so long as she’s not in immediate danger I was willing to let her try it. If nothing else, just not giving her an argument over it might help calm her down. Cadet Thyar was willing to work with her too. Saveron: Indeed, she has an interesting background with regards to certain areas of Vulcan biology. ::’Interesting’ was one way of putting it.:: However resolution through meditation is generally only available to those who had achieved the kohlinahr. She is aware of this. Having spoken with her, it is apparent that her condition is progressing. ::More’s the pity. He would wish her every success in that endeavour, but he knew that such was extremely difficult; Saveron held no illusions regarding his own ability to achieve such.:: Milsap: Another option is medication, keep her sedated and hope she sleeps right through the whole thing. And if her condition worsens I plan to do just that. I’m fine with letting T’Reshik try to fix things her way, but not if I think it’ll wind up killing her. Saveron: It will kill her regardless. The physiological stress, if allowed to continue, is generally terminal. Is it unlikely that it will spontaneously resolve, despite your excellent care. ::He replied gravely. It the reason that such situations could be so dire.:: There are cultural mechanisms on Vulcan to manage such situations, but not here. :: Jerry appreciated Saveron’s compliment, he just wished he believed he’d really earned it. Ever since he’d graduated medical school it was very rare he’d find a condition he didn’t know how to treat. Part of the reason he’d joined Starfleet was to expand his knowledge to encompass treatment of other races and learn how to handle conditions he’d never be exposed to on Earth. Sometimes dealing with alien sickness was different from curing human maladies, but with a little research he was able to learn what he needed to do. This pon farr situation was the first time he’d encountered an affliction with no real medical resolution, and he felt at a loss. He’d had to rely on the expertise of others and, while that may have been the best course of action for his patient, it gave him an unaccustomed and unwelcome feeling of powerlessness. :: Milsap: I get the impression that T’Reshik is resolved to ride this thing out her own way, even if it does kill her. ::Saveron had received the same impression from T’Reshik herself.:: Saveron: Having spoken with her at Counsellor Taurek’s request, I believe that I have persuaded her to review her objections in light of a ‘live to fight another day’ perspective. ::He said at length.:: Her researches, if successful, would be revolutionary. But she must survive to continue them. :: That news lit a spark of hope behind Jerry’s eyes. :: Milsap: Well, that’s a start. What can we do to help her now? Saveron: She has made a request that she be transferred by direct transport to her quarters. I would consider this reasonable, on the provision that Security sweep her quarters for weapons and medication, and lock her replicator and console down to civilian functions only. ::That way the damage that she could cause would be minimalised.:: She has agreed to these conditions, but you are the treating physician, and the decision lies with you. :: As he listened, Jerry nodded thoughtfully. :: Milsap: Sure, I’d go along with that. Sometimes just a change of scenery can do a patient good. Saveron: I anticipate a relatively rapid resolution, once she has the privacy and comfort of her own quarters. ::His tone was dry.:: Milsap: But even in that circumstance, won’t we have the same problem? She’ll still be suffering the same symptoms. ::Unfortunately Doctor Milsap didn’t get the subtle hint. Even Saveron held a certain reticence on the subject, although years amongst aliens had cured him of some of it.:: Saveron: You are correct, and she will continue to suffer them until her condition is resolved. ::At least now it seemed that T’Reshik would entertain the idea of that resolution.:: Milsap: You mentioned Vulcan has ways to deal with this kinda thing. Is it possible we could reproduce them here? Saveron: Indeed, entirely possible. ::He agreed.:: Given the evolutionary purpose of the drive, the resolution is straightforward and effective. :: Jerry felt like he was missing something. He still wasn’t sure what the alternate treatment was. Unless, of course, Saveron wasn’t talking about an alternative. Jerry’s brow creased. :: Milsap: Are we still talkin’ about mating? Saveron: Affirmative. Whilst I am aware of T’Reshik’s previous recalcitrance, I would ask, has curative therapy been offered? ::His tone was one of polite enquiry, as though they were talking about a vial of analgesic.:: :: Curative therapy? He couldn’t be asking what Jerry thought he was asking, could he? Maybe to a Vulcan for which pon farr was a fact of life that kind of thing could be viewed clinically, but to a human from a tiny town in Louisiana the idea was a little more unusual. :: Milsap: You mean did anyone offer to *mate* with her? Not as far as I know…. ::The Vulcan raised a hand in a ‘wait’ gesture.:: Saveron: In fact I have done so. ::He said bluntly.:: However, it ill behooves a doctor to withhold lifesaving therapy. What I am interested to know is, had I not offered, would you? :: Jerry opened his mouth to respond, then closed it and looked down in thought. It never occurred to Jerry to offer to mate with T’Reshik, for several reasons. Still, Saveron raised an interesting point. From a certain standpoint, it could definitely be viewed as a lifesaving procedure. But was a doctor really obliged to save a patient’s life at any cost? If not, where was it acceptable to draw the line? This conversation was raising some uncomfortable trains of thought in Jerry’s mind. :: Milsap: That’s a hard question, Counsellor. Saveron: I believe that it is the Counsellor’s prerogative to ask hard questions. ::He pointed out, a certain light in those grey eyes.:: It is important that we are all aware of our respective cultural inhibitions, and I trust you appreciate that I know that of which I speak. ::As he spoke his tone became dryer. After all, it was Vulcan cultural inhibitions that had landed T’Reshik in her current situation, and Saveron was hardly blind to the problem. First, solve thyself.:: Milsap: ::nodding:: I’m sure. As for your question,I think the short answer is no, I wouldn’t have offered. Saveron: I would be as to your reasons. Milsap: Chalk it up to those cultural inhibitions. Now I’m not saying I would have just let her die, of course. If mating turned out to be the only thing that would save her, and she was willing, we’d find her a suitable and willing partner somehow. But I wouldn’t ask anyone to go against their own beliefs to do it if they didn’t want to. ::The Vulcan considered Jerry’s words. They were perhaps indicative of the reason that such situations caused such difficulties, but cultural conditioning was something they all had, with it’s associated inhibitions.:: Saveron: It’s a complex question; what is the value of a life? ::He posed rhetorically.:: Is it to be placed above one’s inhibitions? One’s comfort? One’s culture? And what are the duties of a medical officer? Can one withhold lifesaving treatment on a cultural basis? ::After a moment he made a placating gesture.:: The subject interests me because this situation continues to present a problem within Starfleet. There is only one reliable treatment, but it’s application appears to be fraught with difficulties, including lack of awareness despite all professional good intentions. ::Jerry hadn’t even been certain of it.:: You will, I trust, tolerate my endeavours to remedy that. Milsap: ::smiling:: Besides, the Academy never taught us about sex as medicine. If they had, I suspect we might have a few more doctors in Starfleet. ::He chuckled:: Heck, it might have even made my brother get into medicine! ::That earned Jerry a quirked brow accompanied by an amused light in the Vulcan’s eyes.:: Saveron: Perhaps we should suggest an addition to the curriculum? :: Jerry threw his head back and laughed, even though he was pretty sure Saveron hadn’t meant the comment as a joke. Pretty sure.:: Milsap: Good luck with that. Saveron: I have nothing further at this junction. If you will permit T’Reshik’s transfer then I will arrange the rest. Assuming that she agrees to treatment. ::He decided not to mention the euthanasia option at this point.:: Milsap: ::nodding:: It makes sense to me, and as you have a lot more experience in the matter I think you’ll agree it’s logical to follow your recommendation. As soon as I get back to the office I’ll take care of the formalities. A JP by Lieutenant JG Jerome Milsap Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B C239208JM01 And Commander Saveron Counsellor and Diplomatic Officer USS Constitution-B R238802S10
  11. I couldn't keep a straight face even whilst we were writing that JP.
  12. I'm sure we all have days where we'd like to shake someone and scream in their face. Now there's a mental image.
  13. (( Constitution Upper Decks )) ::Ji-hu was keeping an eye on his partitioned terminal while coordinating a repair team who were fixing a security office near Promenade-07. Apparently a small mob of Hinji were roaming the level, indiscriminately vandalizing any Starfleet property. Starbase security was in pursuit, but security and engineering were stretched thin, so when the area was clear he sent in a small team of Constitution engineers with a couple of security officers. The ensign had just pushed through requested schematics for a heavy duty door repair when there was a ping from Sindri’s coordinates.::::He rushed over to the terminal and noticed that a section of Nightshade’s habitat lighting had been turned off, he smiled, but then noticed something else. A small energy fluctuation from the same location. A notification that hadn’t gone to Starfleet, but to someone else.::Choi: ::muttering:: What the…::His communicator trilled and his hand reached up automatically while his eyes stayed on the readout.::Wynter: =/\= Wynter to Ensign Choi. =/\=Choi: =/\= Choi here, do you n-n-need something Lieutenant? =/\=Wynter: =/\= Yes, we found a piece of hardware that might have been used in the Nightshade sabotage. We need it analyzed. =/\=Choi: =/\= Understood, Lieutenant Wynter. I can p-pick it up at the transporter on Deck 2 and take it to M-Main Engineering for analysis. =/\=::Ji-hu waved over an on-duty ensign, who approached to take over his operations.::Wynter: =/\= Good, I'll mark it for transport with my tricorder. Energize when you are ready. =/\=Choi: =/\= Aye aye, Lieutenant. I’ll let you know if I find anything. Choi out. =/\=::Ji-hu advised the ensign to put in the call to the transporter on Deck 2, and to not under any circumstances touch his partitioned console. He nodded at Lieutenant McLaren as he made his way to the turbolift.::::The Bolian crewman had just finished transporting the device when Ji-hu arrived, and the young ensign walked over and picked it up. His hands were a little sweaty… nerves… and the device slipped out of his palm and landed with a thud on the deck floor. The Bolian gave him a dubious glance, but he shrugged, retrieving it, before heading back to the turbolift, mortified.::Choi: Main Engineering.::He studied the device as the lift hummed to life, shooting through the Constitution’s decks. It was an electronics modification component with a small interface and a button, a small cylinder that fit comfortably in Ji-hu’s hand. The cylinder was standard when engineers had to add electronic systems without pulling something completely apart, although this one showed some singeing from shoddy application. Amateurs. Ji-hu couldn’t bring himself to believe this had anything to do with sabotage. If anything it was probably a stopgap modification to regulate power fluctuations in the grid.::(( Constitution Main Engineering ))::Main Engineering was staffed by a skeleton crew, given the mass exodus to aid efforts on the Starbase. Ji-hu flipped the device in the air nonchalantly as he walked over to an analysis station just off the main chamber—dropping it once more. He whistled to himself as he placed the component into the analysis port, which slid a protective field into place as he walked over to the information output console.::Choi: Computer, run a full analysis on the component.::He listened as the computer began to run through a series of rapid systems, analyzing the component… but something was wrong, there was a high-pitched whining and then a small “thrum.” Then, suddenly, the analysis port was on fire.::::Ji-hu’s jaw dropped just before the fire suppression system kicked in.::::Moments later, the dripping wet ensign was in Main Engineering as two other officers charged into the lab to salvage what was left of the waterlogged port.::Choi: C-c-c-computer… analysis…Computer: Inconclusive. Before a full analysis could be completed the device discharged a high yield EM pulse when a remote current was established as part of the analysis protocol, which created a voltage surge due to magnetic induction.::Ji-hu’s face paled.::Choi: So why didn’t the device go off before Wynter found it?Computer: Unknown. The circuit may have been left intentionally disconnected.Choi: … so when power was disconnected from habitat lighting the new circuit would go live, electrocuting the engineer and blowing the system! WYNTER AND SINDRI!::Ji-hu began to smash his communicator and desperately call for the two officers, but there was no response.::Computer: Please be advised: There are currently reports of random communicator disruption from the Starbase.oO Am I too late then?! Has Sindri already set off a EM pulse at another sabotaged panel?! Oo::Without thinking, Ji-hu found himself pounding towards the Main Engineering transporters. A bored looking crewman, a young human woman, went wide eyed as the soaked ensign crashed into the transporter chamber.::Choi: GET ME AS CLOSE AS YOU CAN TO LIEUTENANT SINDRI’S LAST KNOWN LOCATION MAYBE NEAR A POWER PANEL IN THE MAINTENANCE TUNNEL ENERGIZE NOW!::He stood gasping for air as she punched in a few coordinates. She apologized, there seemed to be some sort of disruption that was scrambling her signal, but if she could focus the transporter's parameters…::(( Starbase 104 - Nightshade Service Tunnel ))::He felt the creeping tingling as the world went to a blinding darkness, and then he could feel the cool air of a tunnel, and see a distant light as someone was moving through it.::Choi: ::gasping for breath:: SINDRI DON’T TOUCH THE PANEL EM PULSE SABOTAGE STOP!*****Ensign Choi Ji-huEngineering OfficerUSS Constitution-BC239402CJ0
  14. Because the answer's never right in front of you... XD
  15. I like to take a well known species and work from the canon stuff into the maybes and what-ifs. I also enjoy exploring the different angles only hinted at in the series. Saveron's behaviour is modelled largely on Spock and Tuvok, but his thinking and philosophies reflect my own theories on what drove Valeris.
  16. ((Transient Quarters, Starbase 104)) Bakewell: So, how’d it go? ::Professor Ramsey Bakewell, pre-eminent Federation Xenosociologist asked as he stuck his feet into a pair of old carpet slippers and lowered himself into the old leather chair with it’s prolapsed stuffing.:: Saveron: They were… unexpectedly disinterested. ::The simple console in the Starfleet transient quarters did at least have a direct link to the station’s subspace hub; the signal quality was excellent even this far out.:: Bakewell: It’s the other side of the Empire for them; the Klingons on that border are probably more concerned about the Tholians than the Romulans. ::The salty-haired academic opined as he swivelling his chair around, his face lit by the screen in front of him, in the otherwise dim and cosy study. Two items were laid on the green leather of the desk; a steaming mug presumably full of coffee, and a tribble.:: Saveron: The cultural comparison suggests distinct commonalities and certain lines of approach, but the issue of Klingon aggression towards what remains of the Romulan Star Empire appears to have no simple solution. ::Long fingers curled around the Vulcan’s cup of theris-masu.:: Bakewell: Someone would have solved it already if it did. ::He observed, taking a swig of his coffee and absent-mindedly putting it down on to of a PADD.:: How’s Desideratum? ::The Vulcan quirked one upswung brow before reaching under the desk and producing a small carry cage. From inside it he took his own tribble; this one had long, white hair that trailed behind it as it ambulated gently across the desk.:: Saveron: As you may observe, Fluffy is in adequate health. ::He replied, as though the shift from interstellar politics to tribbles was nothing unusual.:: ::In the case of his erstwhile PhD supervisor, it wasn’t. Bakewell gave him a flat look.:: Bakewell: If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times. FCXR Moonbeam Desideratum is a highly hybridised show tribble with a distinguished pedigree; you can’t call it ‘Fluffy’. ::He pointed at Saveron via the screen with a pair of fine tweezers and a scowl.:: Saveron: One would suggest that the truth of the matter is that one has already done so. ::He observed dryly.:: I recall that it has a disqualification registered. Bakewell: It would be a champion if it didn’t. Has it still got the spot? ::Saveron obligingly picked up the White Angora tribble and turned it over, displaying the small black patch of fur which was the source of it’s show disqualification whilst Ramsey studied it critically, before putting it down again.:: Bakewell: More’s the pity. ::He muttered.:: I’ve never bred another Angora White that close. Nor has anyone else. Take this now. ::He gestured to the ball of fluff in front of him.:: Lucky if it’s got two thirds the length on Desideratum, I had it shipped in from another hybridiser and it’s a good job I practice strict quarantine on imports; it’s got the Antaran Mange. ::He grumbled, picking at the tribble’s fur with the tweezers. It was coming out in clumps.:: Saveron: One believes that is a notifiable disease. ::The Vulcan observed.:: Bakewell: You bet it is, and I’m hoping to cure it before it has to be destroyed. Tahla would have a fit, but Iklis is going to lose his stock over this. ::He rattled off first names, assuming Saveron was up on the great hybridisers of show tribbles because that was what was important in life. Shrin’Tahla zh’Aim was an Andorian news reporter known for her scathing sports coverage; Antaravan Iklis a Bajoran archaeologist who specialised in relics associated with Pah Wraith cults. And Ramsey Bakewell advised Federation diplomats.:: Saveron: One would suggest that prevention of an epidemic is of greater importance than preservation of the line. Bakewell: That’s because you’re a doctor. ::He replied, not looking up from the sick tribble.:: You have to care about that sort of stuff, it’s in the rules somewhere. Now me, I’m a sociologist, so I understand the importance of the tribble. ::A small tube of cream appeared, and Bakewell began applying the contents to the tribble’s bare patches wiht a cotton bud.:: Saveron: Such may not be obvious to everyone. ::He suggested blandly.:: Bakewell: Of course not. I wouldn’t have a job if it was. ::His rather sad-looking tribble started to coo under his gentle ministrations.:: But the tribble really is the perfect, simple model of all living things. It breathes, it eats, it poops, and it replicates. That’s what life comes down to. Resources in, waste and more life out. All the drives boil down to that. Saveron: No mention of sentience, culture, complex behaviour? Bakewell: Froth on the coffee. ::He waved a hand dismissively.:: Take your Klingons. They’re getting some resource from preying on the Romulans - probably space and easy access to already mined metals. If you want them to stop, they need some reason not to, either another source or some strong discouragement. Or they could be removing a perceived danger; Romulans have never liked Klingons. Neither do tribbles. Saveron: They did evolve in Klingon space. Bakewell: Right, so natural anti-predator response. And they have one complex behaviour that no one really understands. ::Right on cue Fluffy, Saveron’s tribble, started to sing.:: Saveron: Indeed. ::He replied dryly.:: So you would suggest that if one would understand more complex life forms, one might first study tribbles. Bakewell: Exactly. You can learn a lot from tribbles. And if you feel you understand them, try cats. Because no one understands cats. END Commander Saveron Diplomatic Officer USS Constitution-B R238802S10 Posted 27 March 2017
  17. Saveron keeps a white, fluffy Tribble that his PhD supervisor gave him. The idea of a Vulcan with such an impractical pet amuses me. Apropos of nothing, you can make great pictures of tribbles by photoshopping two guinea-pig butts together.
  18. ((Black Hole Bar, night of the ceremony)) ::After finishing the holo novel from captain Blackbeard Alex headed over to the bar. Zogi was still busy preparing the place. A few voodoo masks were attached to his beer tap while his Dabo girl was changing the light settings over and over. In one of the corners a new Ferengi waiter that Alex hadn’t seen before was installing what appeared to be a smoke machine shaped like a huge orange pumpkin. :: oO Seems he is putting a lot of effort into this Halloween thing Oo ::Alex never cared much for Halloween. This parents told him a few tales when he was young but it wasn’t big event in the Black Forrest where he originally came from. The Hawaiians did celebrate the feast of horror but when Alex and his parents moved in there he was no longer a kid so he didn’t go house to house gathering as much candy as he could:: Zogi: You are a bit early Alex, the feast won’t start for another hour… Williams: I know… but I thought I be a little early. Play a little trick on my shipmates. ::Alex looked around, looking for the perfect place to hide himself:: Williams: You wouldn’t happen to have a huge bottle of rum would you. Just the bottle… Zogi: Rum? Sure I have rum, but it would be waste to throw the stuff out. ::Alex grimed:: Williams: Get me a two glasses of white rum, fill them only half and replicate me a bottle if you can. ::Zogi gave the man a puzzled look but did what was asked, Alex was a good costumer and as long as he paid for it he didn’t really care what would happen next. He filled two small glasses with the rum and set it in front of Alex. Then he headed over to one of the replicators and made a copy of the bottle. As he turned back to Alex he saw him moving to the edge of the bar and drink one of the glasses. Then he put his finger in the other glass and started to drip the rum over his face and costume. The last bit was saved and as Zogi turned the bottle over to Alex the commander lied his head on the bar and closed his eyes:: Williams: Now… do me a favor and put one of the plants in front of me. Make sure people can see me, but not too much and then once people arrive just ignore me. Zogi: Right… ::Zogi grabbed one of the large plants near one of the tables and put it in front of Alex and now he was getting the point. Alex looked like he was part of the Halloween décor:: Zogi: BROK! Get that smoke machine over here… make sure the commander is covered in a nice mist when the people come in. Brok: Sure thing boss! ((Timeskip)) ::People moved in one by one, Alex kept his right eye shut but with the special eye patch on his left eye he could see exactly what was going on. He noted a large devil, a huge fish, and an oddly moving Baxter that had grown a few extra legs overnight. Most of the seniors where close enough for Alex to eavesdrop and all he had to do was find the perfect moment to reveal himself:: Traenor: I must say, you both have inventive and charming costumes. I'm looking forward to the evening, and the chance to see everyone's creativity. Vondaryan: I don't wear costumes as a matter of habit, so it is interesting to see what everyone chose. Though I must say, I hope we don't have another first contact encounter while we are here. Falcon: First guess; confused. VERY confused. Solzano/Svalasdottir/Any: ? Petras: Sirs… Mr. Traenor. It is agreeable to see you again. An interesting choice. From your homeworld? Traenor/Solzano/Svalasdottir/Any: ? oO Showtime! Oo ::Alex slowly moved his hand to his left shoulder and activated the blue bird. It took the holo-emitter a second to active which gave Alex enough time to keep his fake sleeping position:: Ara: My captain needs a drink AAAAHH, My captain needs a drink! AAAHH :: Alex tried not to laugh when he saw that some people were shocked by the screaming parrot:: Pandorn: Well, wonder how you'd be fried...::opens his hand to show the holo-flame. Now the 'mannequin' burst forward, guns drawn and pointed at him.:: oO Hehe, good... keep focusing on the bird! Oo ::The moment to reveal himself was there. Alex quickly rose up, grabbed two pistols from his belt and pointed them at the first man who dared to speak up:: Williams: You dare to insult a my bird, yarrrrrr, Pandorn: Terrific. Another pirate soul. As if we don't have enough of them. Williams: We’ll hoist ye over the yardarm ye mermaid marrying rascal! Pandorn: I'm not the marrying kind. But I do have a few succubi consorts down in the netherworld. Perhaps you'd like to meet a few of them when your soul accompanies me. ::evil chuckle:: TBC =========================== With great pleasure written as: Lt. Cmdr. Alexander Williams Chief Tactical/Security Officer USS Za News Team member Writer ID:A239006AW0
  19. :: Reni looked up from her PADD as the computer signaled a notification and right after gave voice to what it was :: Za Computer: =/\= Link with the USS Athena established. Link up with selected waystations enacted. Requested Intelligence encryption used, delay is 0,06 seconds. =/\= :: She sat up from her bed and quite eagerly made the short distance to the desk in her quarters and turning on the screen and accepting the transmission. There was a slight delay before Lan’s dark-haired and black eyes, betraying his betazoid ancestry appeared on the screen. The transmission was slightly less in visual quality than a regular subspace transmission within the alpha quadrant. :: :: Onboard the USS Athena, Lan’s late evening meditation was broken by the sound of his quarter’s console announcing an incoming call. Getting up, he walked briskly to the screen and made it come alive with a touch of his fingers. Subspace call from the Alpha Quadrant, Intel encryption. Given that they hadn’t established a comms relay in the Gamma Quadrant yet, that call had to have been bounced by several friendlies in order to reach them; the caller was either very lucky, or very high in the food chain. He quickly hit the ‘accept’ command, glad that he had kept his tank top on. :: Svalasdottir: Well what do you know? It worked. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get to you Commander. ::she smiled and pulled away a rogue blonde lock from her face. She realized it was the first real smile in quite a while:: Are you receiving me OK? You’re a little fuzzy over here. :: Reni Svalasdottir, of all people… Lan mirrored her smile. Incredibly lucky, then… or ‘Svala’ was making a very important business call. Last he saw her, the blonde Amazon had made a lighting-quick stay in his department before being reassigned to the USS Za as a diplomat... And she had given him his old title, which he didn’t feel like correcting right now. He would have opportunities to spoil the mood of this conversation later. :: Riel: Could be better, but good enough, Svala. And it’s just ‘Lan’ after hours, thank you. :: A small probe, in order to ascertain the purpose of the call. :: ::Reni smiled again:: Svalasdottir: Look, I know I am the one calling on you, but you have to tell me, how’s the Gamma Quadrant? :: Lan raised an amused eyebrow. Small talk, and she hadn’t taken his bait… That being said, while she couldn’t possibly be making an encrypted subspace call only for asking that, her curiosity seemed genuine. :: Riel: :: In a [...] blasé tone :: Well, I haven’t been dirtside so far, and a ship on red alert is still a ship on red alert, no matter which quadrant you’re in. I haven’t debriefed with the away team yet, but the locals look interesting. Svalasdottir: ::raising an eyebrow:: Red alert? What’s going on over there? :: Lan let out a chuckle, and tented his fingers in front of his face, a half-grin on his lips. :: Riel: Well, information on the Gamma Quadrant is a seller’s market, miss. How about you start by revealing me the real purpose of your call, before I consider telling you more? :: ::He had called her out. Well it wasn’t much more than fair, she had called him after all, why wouldn’t he wonder why?:: Svalasdottir: :: Adjusting herself in her seat:: Well, our first mission is over and… And I need someone to talk too. Look, before you say anything, I don’t know any of our counselor’s yet and I’m not comfortable talking about this with any of them…yet. Besides, I wanted to talk with someone with Intelligence clearance, experience and… and besides that I feel that I trust you. :: Lan’s smile softened, and he bowed slightly. :: Riel: Your trust honors and humbles me. I’ll be glad to help; I know all too well how it feels to have burdens you are not allowed to share with your counselor. oO Like the Hunger. Deities above, the Hunger. Oo ::Reni nodded at him with a tiny, wry smile at his bow and ceremonious words. She still didn’t know why she trusted him so much, it wasn’t like they had known each other well and long; sure they had served on two ships together, but Reni had been in and out of both very quickly. There was just something… something about him:: Svalasdottir: We had been asked for aid by a species that call themselves the Deep. Too make it short, they are plagued by a deadly illness and they asked both Starfleet and the Klingon Empire for aid. ::she shook her head and rolled her eyes:: Well, they got what they wanted; we both showed up on their doorstep and of course the Klingons started to throw their chest out. :: It was Lan’s turn to wince and shift uncomfortably on his chair. A non-aligned species, a deadly illness, politics and a warzone… After all this time, he still had flashbacks of his first mission, and its tragic ending. :: Riel: Let me guess: it ends with a fight. Svalasdottir: ::nodding in agreement:: Yes, to make it short; a fire fight broke out between the Klingons and the Deep, mainly because of a certain Deep commander who… I don’t know if she was just mad or really hated Klingons, but she started it all; and me, Captain Solzano and two other officers were aboard her ship when she fired on the Klingons. ::Reni paused and rubbed her left eye, when she continued her voice gave the impression that she was reliving the moments in her mind:: The Deep ship got damaged in a return volley from the Klingon disruptors, our engineer got badly wounded but the Deep commander, well she wouldn’t quit. I… I could see it in her eyes Commander… Lan, she was borderline. ::Reni paused again, she took a deep breath and then continued, clearly having gotten to the meat of the matter:: So, just before she was to fire their massive primary weapon at the Klingons… I stunned her. ::beat:: Shot her right then and there. ::There was a long period of silence. It wasn’t like she had told Lan that she had killed the commander, but he seemingly waited for her to continue:: :: Lan was listening intently, his eyes trained on Svalasdottir’s face. Her look was focused far away, but her distress was visible. He didn’t say a word, leaving her all the time she needed to let her feelings out. :: Svalasdottir: Lan, I don’t know how much you checked up on me after I left the Gemini, or before I joined the Athena. But I was on mission for SFI for two years. And… ::Reni broke off and stared at the face on her screen. A calm, serious face with those deep, dark eyes that seemed to stare into your psyche:: Svalasdottir: Lan. I managed to join the diplomatic corps -because- I wanted to distance myself from… from violence and shooting. ::beat:: I know I only stunned her, but still. It was almost the same feeling. :: Lan nodded gravely. :: Riel: Good. Svalasdottir: ::Reni blinked. Then she blinked again before she tried to respond to that unexpected rebute from Riel:: What!? :: Her surprise made him smile. :: Riel: I have checked up on you, as you say, from time to time. I don’t have the details, because I didn’t ask for it. If you want to tell me, I’ll listen, otherwise I won’t pry. But I believe I can easily guess what kind of job leaves classified sections in your record. :: All too easily, in fact. He had been through several situations involving very dirty Federation secrets, and all he had in his record was sections with a distinct lack of details. To warrant a full blank, the mission had to be rotten from the get-go. :: ::Reni couldn't help feel a tinge of flattery in her chest when Lan confirmed that he actually had checked up on her. She had never gotten the chance to cultivate real friendships. Never. When she was younger she had been studying all the time and that only got worse when she join the Acedemy, and right after that she had been whisked away. To hear that someone from her brief ‘visits’ on starships had actually wondered what happened to her meant a lot more than even she expected:: Svalasdottir: Lan, I… thank you. ::that was all she managed to convey tight now:: Riel: I won’t try to say anything to make you feel better about what you did. Because if you still feel bad when shooting at someone, be it at heavy stun, that’s good news. Cherish that feeling, Svala. It’s the sign you still have a soul. Svalasdottir: ::narrowing her eyes in mock scrutiny, hiding her true feelings expertly behind some humour:: Are you going to get all spiritual on me? :: Lan shook his head, smiling. The fact that he was the one to bring her that kind of comfort was so ironic he could have laughed until he cried. But he had the opportunity to do something that could be counted in his favor when the Judgement would come, and Deities knew he was begging for those these days. :: Riel: You had a chance to stop her, and you didn’t hesitate or let your feelings get in the way. You saved yourself, you saved her, you saved the ship and both crews. And yet you feel remorse about incapacitating her for her own good afterwards. In my book that makes you a good officer, and a damn good person. What is there to fix? :: Reni used both of her hands to catch her long, blonde hair and adjust it on her back. There was no need for it and she wasn’t really aware of that she was doing it :: :: The body language was not lost on the Betazoid, though. :: Svalasdottir: I guess… ::beat:: I guess I just feel that I should have come up with another solution? ::Before Reni’s eyes the scene played out again, and she could clearly see the look in the Deep commander's eyes. Would any words really have helped? Her vision returned to the present and she looked into Lan’s eyes instead and all that she could see was kindness:: Riel: :: With a skeptical frown :: You know what they say about hindsight, right? Listen, if you replay the scene in your head long enough that you find a better solution, go ahead and use it next time you need to make that kind of split-second decision. For the time being, a phaser shot is quick, clean, with little to no collateral damage and more or less fail-safe. Svalasdottir: Lan I… ::she paused but it didn’t get any better:: Thank you. ::she smiled at him, a genuine warm smile of appreciation and heartfelt gratitude. She didn’t think Lan would fully appreciate how much this meant to her, but perhaps some day, when they knew each other better she could tell him:: Riel: :: Waving a dismissive hand :: Don’t mention it. Pointing out the obvious is a hobby of mine. Svalasdottir: ::nodding slowly:: Oh and Lan. If you don’t get your rank back soon, be sure to tell the brass what I do to officers I don’t agree with. And I know just where to aim, they taught me that. ::she grinned a rather wolfish grin, giving her beautiful face a surprisingly haunting look:: Riel: oO Yup, definitely wetworks Oo Riel: :: With a contrite smile :: Heh, thanks but no thanks, violence against officers is kind of what got me here in the first place. Just keep shooting rogue alien captains and leave the rest to me. Svalasdottir: Will do. ::she took a few milliseconds to compose herself:: So, is that payment enough? What can you tell me about Gamma and the Athena? ::and she added with a marked emphasis that this budding friendship was a two way wormhole:: and how about You? :: Lan leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, and let out a sigh. It was a part of his job that he hated. :: Riel: About the Quadrant and the ongoing mission, not much, alas. Lots of classified activity going around. I won’t be able to give you specifics, but we have been infiltrated by terrorists who compromised our Intel and comm networks and caused severe structural damage to the ship. :: The bitterness in Lan’s tone was evident. His home had been attacked, his own department compromised, and he couldn’t help thinking that he could have done a better job preventing it. Svala’s face when he opened his eyes showed worry, but no judgement, and for that he was grateful. :: Svalasdottir: ::measuring her words:: That sounds… Actually that sounds pretty bad Lan. :.she had the feeling he could be blaming himself, she thought that she would, in his case. But she knew it would do him no good, most career officers always thought they could do better, do more especially in hindsight:: Riel: Pretty bad, yeah. The away team got battered. Last I heard, Bishop lost a foot. Svalasdottir: Lost a foot!? ::lowering her voice again:: Well, that’s easily enough replaced I suppose. :.suddenly that strain of gray, dry humour acted up again:: Hey, perhaps he should get one of those fancy canes, some think they add composure and dignity, you know? :: He couldn’t help but chuckle. :: Riel: Thanks for the wonderful image, Svala. A doctor Bishop even more sarcastic and showing less empathy than usual, limping through the corridors with a cane in hand… Deities, you could make a holoseries out of it. Svalasdottir: ::was the one chuckling this time:: Yeah, and doing what? Hunting down more and more weird diseases? Who’d watch that? ::she smirked at his handsome, bothered face and got back into a more supportive stride:: Hey look, there’s no use second guessing your protocols and internal security. Learn from this and move on. oO Jeez, it’s so easy to say, no wonder people keep telling me that. Oo Riel: :: He tried to retreat into humour and mock outrage :: Hey, *I* am the counselor, here! Svalasdottir: Yeah, well I grew up with TWO in my house. Besides, I’m only saying stuff I’m supposed to say. ::she leant back in the chair, a few seconds passed:: That’s not all the reasons right? You don’t strike me like a man that seconds guesses himself a lot, has this… something to do with your demotion? Riel: :: Defeated, he looked down, his shoulders slumped :: I… don’t know. Michael Tonston… showed me a great deal about myself and my abilities. :: He shuddered :: RaBeem. ::Reni didn’t say anything. She gave him a chance to talk, to talk about what he felt like he wanted and could.:: Riel: Part of it was on purpose. I goaded him. I wanted to give him a chance to attack, I set him up for a self-defense case in my favor. I didn’t intend to kill him, but… part of me didn’t say no. ::Lan couldn’t see Reni’s reaction as he was looking down as he talked, had he, his trained eyes would have seen it go ever so slightly paler and stiffen in the jaws. Her eyes went blank as she suddenly was hit by the intense memory a knife in her hand and the feeling of still warm blood running down her fingers. Before Lan could notice she had snapped back and using her training, abolished all signs of her own issues from her face. However, she could not really hide her sympathetic gaze, that she knew all too well what he was talking about:: Svalasdottir: Lan I... :: When he looked back at her, his black eyes expressed sadness, pleading… but also something more. :: Riel: A lot like you, Svala. I know what I can do, what I can *be*, and it scares me. And my greatest nightmare is that one day it wouldn’t scare me anymore. Svalasdottir: Good. You see a real smartass once told me something like: “if you still feel bad when shooting at someone, be it at heavy stun, that’s good news”. So I figure, as long as it’s your biggest nightmare, that’s a good thing? :: He let out a bitter, dry laugh. :: Riel: oO My “heavy stun” left a man braindead, but thanks for the sentiment. Oo We’re lucky to have each other, right? I don’t think it would be easy to find a support group where you could stand up and say, ‘Hi, my name is Lan Riel, and I’m a suspicious, cold-hearted, manipulative and potentially murderous [...]’. ::Reni nodded, leaning forward closer to the screen smiling:: Svalasdottir: Hey, how about that we become a really small support group? Just you and me. And until our next meeting, our assignment is to look to the future. OK? Our past is not much to be proud of, so maybe the best thing is to leave it back there? You’re a whole quadrant from it and I’m about to become five years ahead of it. Deal? :: Riel paused and raised an eyebrow. He was glad beyond words for the offer, but a single word had derailed his train of thoughts. :: Riel: Deal. But either you just meant ‘light years’, or Temporal Investigations would roast you alive for having said that.. Svaladottir: ::wincing in jest at the thought of such an investigation:: Sorry bad phrasing, I meant that the Za’s mission is supposed to last five years. :: Reni looked at her another part of her computer screen :: Svalasdottir: Look, I am bouncing this signal over relays whose owners would not take kindly to us talking about our sad lives all night long. ::she grinned and couldn’t help throwing in a small wink:: Lan, it’s been really good talking to you. Let’s not make it too long before we do it again alright? And if you just wanna sent me a letter, do it. :: A letter? Lan was familiar with the term, of course, but in context, it was either ironic, figurative or just plain weird. :: Riel: :: Grinning :: I’ll make sure I do the next time we happen upon a Dominion mailbox. Svalasdottir: ::grinning back:: Stay good Lan. ::Reni leant back in her chair as the screen went black. She closed her eyes and could see Lan’s dark ones in her mind:: :: The Betazoid officer shook his head as Svala killed the comm. He closed his eyes, counted slowly to ten, then pinched his arm. Nope, not dreaming. Between the very content of the call and Svala’s attitude towards him, he had been toying with the possibility. That had been… unexpected, to say the least. Still, it felt good. Better than that, even. Lan rose up from his seat as subroutines triggered by the Intel encryption protocol erased the communication logs, changed his mind, made an appointment with Jamison, and went back to his meditation. Only this time with an ear-to-ear smile on his face. :: === Lt. Junior Grade Reni Svalasdottir Chief Diplomatic Officer USS Za, NCC-65385 Writer ID: D239009RS0 and Lieutenant Junior Grade Lan Riel Intelligence Officer USS Athena G239107LR0
  20. I loved this turn of phrase, made me laugh.
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