[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

On 5/27/2022 at 11:51 PM, Lt Aine Olive Sherlock said:

Rude! Going to have to have words with someone! 😉

[Cmdr. Karrod Niac - Cuisine Astra]

By now we all know how talented @Karrod Niac, but I couldn't let this one go unnoticed. 

 

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((Holodeck 2, Deck 6, USS Excalibur))

The key to good cooking, as Rostil had spent an inordinate amount of time trying to explain to Karrod, was preparation.  Everything, and the long dead master chef really did mean everything, had to be just right before you could even consider applying heat to pan.  So he had started in the one place aboard he could completely control every variable of the environment right down to Rostil's shockingly precise expectations.  The holodeck.  

Karrod had spent days working on the matrix he was now standing in the middle of, carefully recreating and tuning aspects of it until the recreation was aesthetically and functionally indistinguishable from the original establishment.  Working from Rostil's memory Karrod had dutifully rebuilt every detail of the master chef's original kitchen, right down to the slightly uneven tile below the prep counter that Rostil dubiously claimed helped with drainage.  Karrod had tried arguing the point originally but in this endeavor he'd been indulgent to Rostil's obsessive perfectionism for several reasons.  One, Karrod felt he owed Niac's memories of the man a small token of appreciation.  Even though he had groused endlessly about the state of the food and available seasonings on Demes II he'd managed to keep their food palatable and satiating for weeks, something Karrod knew he wouldn't have been able to accomplish on his own.  Two, Karrod had appreciated the distraction of an elaborate project after a difficult and stressful mission.  The damage that Starfleet had done to that planet and its culture was immeasurable but the more immediate and troubling thing for Karrod was the fate of Tina Kuppasoop.  Her mental collapse hadn't been his fault but he was none the less haunted by the fact she was another officer he had failed to save.  The third reason he'd been so indulgent to Rostil had nothing at all to do with the Chef and was, in point of fact, almost selfish by comparison.  

Karrod really wanted to impress Addison MacKenzie.

He'd found the woman beguiling almost from the moment he'd met her but since seeing the Commander in action on Demes II Karrod had to admit to becoming smitten in a way he hadn't in years.  She was beautiful and terrifying in equal measures, which was intoxicating enough by itself, but there was something more to the woman that Karrod caught glimpses of.  A depth to her, below the facade of sharp wit and cocksure professionalism, that spoke of long years spent in service to Starfleet.  Years that had left indelible marks on the woman which were well hidden.  Karrod had considered looking up their XO's service record for insights but felt it was somehow...impolite.  If they were going to share anything, they'd need to do so openly.  Otherwise there was no point to it at all.  Karrod realized he felt a longing for that kind of connection that he hadn't allowed himself to feel since he'd been a much younger man.  He hoped this experience wouldn't be quite as disastrous as that had been.  

Turning his attention back to the present, Karrod looked within and found that Rostil was at long last satisfied with the work they'd done.  The kitchen, it seemed, was ready.   Walking around the serving counter and out onto the main floor of the replicated bistro, Karrod confirmed that each bit of detail was just as it should be.  The view out the front window was as it had been decades earlier, looking out upon the watercourses of the Old City in Leran Manev, the Trill capital.  The canals had once served an important purpose as trade and travel arteries but in the present they were little more than well tended decorative features.  The later day light was shimmering on the clear water and small selfpiloting pleasure craft lazed their way to destinations unknown.  

The interior of the restaurant was smaller than it had been in reality, one small concession he'd gotten out of Rostil, as Karrod did not imagine they'd be serving twelve tables plus several under the exterior awning all at once.  The dining room was now a bit more private, with one table situated in the center of the room and accented by soft recessed lighting in the ceiling.  The motif was a bit rustic, with tables that had originally been hewn by Trill craftsmen from native hardwoods.  The chairs were comfortable, with tall backs and soft pads to encourage slow dining and ample conversation.  Karrod had begrudgingly admitted the effect was wonderfully soothing.  Somewhere deep within, Rostil beamed with pride.  

And now the real work began.  Karrod returned to the kitchen and donned an apron before he began laying out the freshly procured ingredients he'd had to beg, borrow and transport in from DS224 at prices that were somewhat eye watering, but Rostil assured him that these expenses would pay dividends in the meal itself and Karrod was increasingly inclined to believe it.  The pans, pots and cook surfaces may have all been synthetic but they were designed to mimic their real life counterparts so Karrod hoped, and had assured Rostil repeatedly, that the results of the meal would be unaffected.  With hands that seemed to know the work from memory, Karrod retrieved a chefs knife and began slicing vegetables, placing them into meticulously arranged piles nearby as he worked from item to item along the prep table.  Several heating units were already at temperature and prepared to simmer, broil and sear the various components just as soon as he got them ready.  

The menu would be simple according to Rostil but to Karrod, who had spent most of his life eating out of a replicator or as the customer of a restaurant, seemed daunting.  Over thirty different seasonings, nearly sixty separate ingredients and a strange cross-section of culinary techniques from across the Alpha Quadrant would be employed over the next several hours.  Karrod let Niac take the proverbial conn and found a deep sense of peace as he worked from item to item, chopping and slicing with the precision of a surgeon.  As the kitchen filled with a delicious bouquet of aromas, Karrod's confidence in the endeavor grew.  Rostil was in his element and enjoying himself in a way he hadn't in decades.  All too soon the meal was nearing completion and Karrod decided to extend his invitation. Tapping the commbadge he'd affixed to the apron with a flour covered hand he spoke to the air.  

Niac:  =/\= Niac to MacKenzie.  I hope you're hungry, Commander.  Holodeck 2 in twenty minutes or I'm starting without you. =/\=

MacKenzie:  =/\= Response =/\=

Karrod smiled to himself as he stirred the large simmering pot and gently drizzled a small handful of fragrant herbs into the mix.  This was going to be fun.  

((A Short Time Later))

The holodeck doors parted and Karrod held his breath, suddenly worried he'd overdone it and the woman would turn around on the spot.  When she didn't, Karrod called out from the kitchen.  

Niac:  Welcome to Bistro Manev, Commander.  If you can find your own way to the table I'll be out with starters in just a minute.  

MacKenzie: Response

Niac: I appreciate the gesture.  There's glasses and a cork in the sideboard behind you.  

MacKenzie: Response

Karrod plated their appetizers and stepped out of the kitchen with two large plates.  He delicately placed them in the center of the table before fetching some smaller sideplates for each of them.  

Niac: Like I said, I hope you're hungry.  Even then...we might be here for a while.  I let Rostil indulge himself and I think he decided to make enough food to serve half the ship.  
MacKenzie: Response

Tags/TBC

===============================
Commander Karrod Niac
Chief of Operations
USS Excalibur - NCC-41903-A
Commodore Kali Nicholotti, Commanding
V239509GT0

 

[Lt. JG Trovek & Amb. Zorkal - Two Plus One Is Three]

By now all of you know I am a Lurys fan. I am however putting forward this, for very personal reasons.

The topic touches my heart deeply and it was beautifully written by @Arys and @Alora DeVeau. Thank you both for this.

I joined all the four parts so it is a long read, but certainly worth it.

 

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((Children’s Home - Cardassian Prime))

The situation at the orphanage was just as bad the second time as it had been the first.  The building was just as cold and foreboding, the woman just as callous and uncaring, the child just as confused and fearful.  For the moment, nothing could be done about the first two, though Lukin would certainly start making calls and looking toward a better future in that regard, but the last was easily fixed.  After speaking to Ferri, the woman had come through.  In truth, Lukin knew she was the reason they hadn’t been able to take Geleth the first time, and he was glad to know that his reassurances were acceptable - he wouldn’t have liked to take extra measures to secure custody of the child.

So there they were again, the chilly, pale walled halls looming before them, stale, as uncaring as the woman who had led them through the facility.  And it truly was a facility. There was nothing there that indicated it was a place for children save for the occupants themselves, their thin bodies scurrying around from place to place under the stern eye and sharp tongue of their guardians.  There were no attempts to provide simple effects of comfort.  They were fed, clothed and had a bed.  That was all that was needed, was it not?

No.  Lukin knew that.  Children without parents had been considered a burden, a status that even from a young age bothered Lukin.  After the war, it was obvious they were the hope of Cardassia’s future.  Now?  While their people still reeled in the aftermath of a war that had ended decades before, they seemed to have forgotten that - or at least thought that the bare minimum was all that was required.  But to flourish, to do well, to be productive members of a society went beyond existing - it required children who thrived.  Nothing thrived in that place.
But one child would.  Lukin would make sure of it.  And he would use every ounce of influence he had to try and enact changes.  Changes that would start with her. 

She was taken then, her meagre belongings in a single bag, Lukin afforded the woman one last glare before he took the tiny hand in his own, the other in one of Arys’, and the three of them walked out of that building together.  Free. Lukin didn’t even look back at the veritable prison that squatted on the horizon, perhaps sullen that it had lost one of its prisoners.  

But he and Arys had gained something.  So had Geleth.  The plan was not to return immediately to the house.  No, there was too much to do before that.  Several shops in Coranum that day were surprised by the motley trio that entered through their doors.  The first was the toy store, a place of delight for one as small as Geleth.  Filled with colour and characters that made Lukin and Arys cringe, but they nonetheless endured it for her sake.  

The clothes shoppe wasn’t much more interesting to Lukin - and the only reason he held his attention at all was that he wanted to make sure the child had proper clothing. Arys however revealed another side to her and purchased a dress or two for herself, as well as clothing for Geleth. Rather than the sacks that hung off her thin, frail frame, she was put into dresses, tunics, and other outfits that were tailored to fit well - and with measurements in hand, they could replicate anything further that they needed.  

It was only after that they headed back to the house, far more welcoming than that metallic monstrosity they had left behind.  Once inside, the scents of savoury dishes greeted them, though Madra called it would be a few more minutes left.  That allowed them a little time to get settled, and Lukin led the way to a bedroom.  

It was not decorated, not yet, but even so, the warmer tones of the walls indicated this was a residence, not solitary confinement.  Lukin motioned toward the entirety of said room, then turned to the child. 

Zorkal: While we are on Cardassia, this is your room.

Geleth still clutched her pillow, and had barely let go of it through the duration of their trip. She had watched Lukin carefully, though it seemed she gained trust a lot easier than she did to Arys, who she still eyed with a mixture of suspicion and wonder. The girl looked around the room, hugged her newly gotten toys to herself, but didn't let go of his hand. 

Trovek: I will help with dinner. 

She smiled, which caused the girl to hide behind Lukin, which in turn caused her to sigh and turn around, leaving towards the kitchen. She didn’t blame the girl at all, but for the first time in her life she desperately wished to be Cardassian.  Lukin watched her go, eyeridges coming together in a frown, but he elected not to push it.  Turning back to the child, he motioned  again to the room. 

Zorkal: Why don’t we put your things away?

Geleth nodded carefully, though not at all convinced by that suggestion. She had been very shy when they had picked out clothes and toys for her, but had insisted on carrying as many of them herself as she could fit between her small arms - perhaps she was worried someone would take them away again. 

She still clung tightly to him, and Lukin elected not to disengage, but drew her over to a set of drawers.  Tapping lightly upon the front, it slid open at the barest touch.  

Zorkal: Let’s start with your clothes.  

Reluctantly, the girl parted with a few of her things, placing them neatly into the bottom shelf. But there was something else on her mind, something she seemed more comfortable asking now that Arys had left. 

Geleth: Why does the woman look different?

Zorkal: The woman?

Lukin’s left eye ridge arched just so at the description. 

Zorkal: You mean Arys? That is because she is different.

Geleth: A different kind of Cardassian? 

Lukin chuckled at that, then coughed as if to hide his amusement.  

Zorkal: Some might say yes.

There were a couple of reasons for that.  First was her attitude.  In many ways, Arys *acted* like a Cardassian, to the point that sometimes Lukin forgot that she wasn’t - only to be reminded when she actually did display the rather non Cardassian aspects of herself.  He didn’t mind those.  They were part of who they were, but it had gotten him into trouble on occasion.

Then there was the fact that she was half Bajoran, and the controversy that surrounded the idea of a common ancestry.  Many of his kind *hated* the idea.  Many others wanted to embrace it.  Lukin could see the evidence, but there was still doubt despite it.  Regardless, it was moot when it came to their relationship. 

Geleth: She is scary. 

Zorkal: Ah.  Yes, I can see that.  She can be a little scary.  

Lukin shifted and got down upon one knee so that he was closer to her level rather than towering above her.  His grey eyes met her warmer ones and he offered a smile.  Much like what he gave to Arys, this one did not sting with sarcasm, nor was it tight with cynicism.  In it was a warmth that, thus far, very few people received - and now she was one of them. 

Zorkal: But while she can seem scary, she is a very wonderful person.  I hope you will take the opportunity to get to know her better.  She cares about you very much.

The little girl looked at Lukin, her face scrunched up in thought. She was trying so very hard to wrap her head around what was happening, and to seem brave when she, in truth, didn't feel brave at all. Eventually she nodded carefully.

Geleth: She has the wrinklies. 

Zorkal: The…wrinklies?

Geleth pointed at the ridges on her nose, which she and Arys indeed had in common. 

Geleth: Am I the same kind of Cardassian she is? 

Geleth’s parents had raised her knowing that she was different from the other children, but that being different wasn’t a bad thing. They had told her she simply was a different *kind* of Cardassian, and Geleth had understood that. And now she was, perhaps, a little worried that her Cardassian ridges would fall off. She didn’t like that idea.

Lukin didn’t know that, but once she indicated the very Bajoran feature, he understood what she meant.  Wrinklies.  Cute.

Zorkal: You both share a similar ancestry on one side, but she has a different ancestry on the other.  She is part human. 

Not that he held that against her.

Geleth: Is she your wife? 

So many questions. She was a curious little thing, like most Cardassian children were. Under the old government those character traits were being discouraged, but nowadays it was something parents took pride in. And Lukin?  He’d been similar, too curious for his own good, and there had certainly been attempts to work it out of him.  They had all failed, and perhaps it was because of that trait, and others, that the old government didn’t particularly care for that had helped him survive everything.  

The last question made him smirk.  It was a fair question, easily answered, and he could understand why she asked it.

Zorkal:  No, she is not. Come now, let’s put the rest of your things away.  We can put your toys on top of the dresser for now.

Geleth nodded and helped, but never quite let go of either Lukin or her pillow. He was nice to her and not very scary, and more than anything, she desired to feel protected right now. 
 

((Lukin’s home, Cardassia Prime))

Eventually they made their way to the dining area, where Arys was waiting for them. The food served were the kind of things children liked, with an emphasis on sweet meals rather than elaborate ones. 

Geleth veeeeery shyly greeted Arys while Lukin led her to the table, and then climbed up on the chair next to him while Arys took a seat on the opposite side. 

Perhaps she was hurt by the girls behaviour, perhaps even offended, but none of it showed on her features. She controlled her expression carefully as she served dinner, and no one would have known that she had been, for the lack of better words, freaking out just a few minutes prior. 

But she did notice the way Geleth looked at all the food in front of her, and couldn’t help but wonder what the past months had been like. She hadn’t been starved, surely, but Arys doubted that the meals had been prepared with the same love and care as the ones presented here.

Geleth waited patiently for her plate to be filled, but once she noticed Lukin pick up his utensils and indicated that it was okay to eat, she seemed to try to consume as much food as possible in as little time as possible. 

Arys glanced at her, slightly worried, then then at Lukin. He should say something. He was the Cardassian. Lukin caught her look, but his focus was on the child, his frown deep upon his jowls.  Setting down his fork, he reached over and gently placed a single finger upon her wrist.  

Zorkal: Geleth.  

Geleth looked up at him, unsure what she had done wrong, but quickly gathering that she *had* done something wrong. 

Zorkal: There is no need to rush.  It will not be taken away.  You may have as much as you like. 

He retrieved his hand and let it rest beside his plate.  He had seen grown Cardassians eat that way, but only when their hunger reached desperation.  Starvation could drive them to simply consume rather than enjoy.  Yet, Geleth was not starving - and there was no indication she had been denied food - but he wondered if they had been forced to keep to a strict time schedule.  

Geleth: ::quietly:: I’m sorry. 

She lowered her gaze and dropped her utensils, tears welling up in her eyes, but it was unclear if that was because of what Lukin had said, the withdrawal of his hand, or simply a combination of everything that had occurred today. She had been so brave all this time, but now, all she wanted to do was hide somewhere. 

Trovek: Sweetling, Lukin is just worried about your tummy. He is not angry at you.

Arys tried. She really did, and Geleth seemed to notice - or perhaps she was just glad that no one was upset at her. She wiped her tears on the pillow she had sat in her lap, and nodded. 

Trovek: [Standard, to Lukin] I think you should take her hand again. You make her feel safe. 

Lukin hadn’t expected her to cry and when met with the tears was uncertain what to do.  Arys’ comment in Standard called his attention to her.  

Zorkal: [Standard, to Lukin] I find that rather hard to believe. 

She was a tiny thing, and he towered above her.  He was a Dominion War veteran, a Cardassian born under the old government, lived through the destruction of half of his people, and was striving to help his people continue to move toward a more positive future, with more amenable relations between Cardassians and other species.  He dealt with those who were hostile even decades after the end of their alliance with the Dominion.  He was not the sort of person that he would think made others feel safe.

Trovek:  [Standard] Well she seems to have taken a liking to you. 

Zorkal: Hm. 

Obviously the child knew nothing but Cardassian.  She was young, had only lived on the planet, why should he expect her to be exposed to anything else?  

Geleth: ::quietly:: Why do you have a secret language?

His attention returned to the child at his side.  She was still meek, cowed under the admonishment from him, even though he had not been harsh.  

Zorkal: It is not a secret language, but sometimes it is easier for us to converse in it.  You shall learn it in time.

Arys found that it very much was a secret language. She spoke Cardassian fluently, by now, but had chosen standard for the very reason that Geleth could not understand it. But she wouldn’t tell that to her.

Trovek: You will. 

He stretched out his hand again, but that time, he placed a gentle finger beneath her chin so she would look up at him.

Zorkal: You have no need to be sorry.  You have done nothing wrong.  I want you to simply know that you can take the time for pleasure in your food, because it will be given and you will not be taken away until you are satisfied. 

Geleth: ::nodding carefully: Okay…

Arys exhaled and set down her utensils, the dinner untouched. This was a *lot* more difficult than other people made it seem, and she wasn’t sure how to make things better. And if she *could* make them better. She still felt so terribly guilty for what had happened to the girl’s family. 

Trovek: I think it is best if I start catching up on… things. ::she sighed:: Maybe you can read her a story when you bring her to bed? 

Zorkal: A story?

Lukin might start getting a crick in his neck with the back and forth between the two he was doing.  He couldn’t hide the shocked expression from the woman, though thankfully the child was too engrossed with her food to notice it.

Trovek: [Standard] She’s scared of me. She likes you. It’s just a story, I am sure you can manage. 

Once more, he switched to Standard, wishing for the comfort of his own language, but acknowledging that, perhaps, it was best for the current situation.

Zorkal:  [Standard] I can.  That does not mean I should.  

Perhaps she was being a little harsh. Perhaps she was just stressed, and tired. Perhaps she needed to speak to someone about things. Arys vanished out of the dining room and into the sleeping room she occupied, part of her, for a split second, wondering if she was now permitted to join Lukin in *his* room that night… and then decided that she had other problems. 

Lukin’s frown turned even more severe as she just left. He couldn’t fathom what the problem was.  Why was she being so petulant?  Glancing back at the child, his expression softened once more before she could see the hardness that had been there previously.  He didn’t interrupt her, but let her eat, only speaking to encourage her and quietly pass along some advice on manners.

Madra had made a veritable feast complete with dessert.  Lukin watched the enthusiasm with which she indulged in the sweet and elected not to mention the speed with which she consumed it. Once was enough for now, and they would have more time to teach her later.  

He did as Arys suggested and selected a story from his child that he had particularly enjoyed about a wild hound and his adventures in the mountains of Cardassia.  He read only one, but promised to read another the next night.  After making sure she had her pillow and her softest plushie, he patted her hand and exited.  

The evening drew on, and eventually Geleth had been tucked into bed. The door to Arys’ room remained open, and the light in the hallway remained on, making sure that she wasn’t scared, and that they would know if she got out of bed in the middle of the night. Once Arys was sure that the girl was asleep, she crossed the hallway and quietly knocked on Lukin’s door.
 

He had returned to his bedroom after finishing with Geleth, leaving Arys to…well, whatever she was doing.  He figured she would emerge when he was ready, and when he heard the knock, he called for her to enter. He was already changed, dressed in comfortable sleeping clothes, ready for a night’s rest, and yet he elected to remain awake longer.  He was reading, but the book was something for himself rather than a child’s story.  Setting his tablet aside, he turned his full focus to her.  

Trovek: Can I come in or are we doing the whole separated bedroom thing again? I just need to know. 

It still made no sense.  But she was a woman, and women in general just didn’t make sense.  

Zorkal: That is entirely up to you.

Arys didn’t answer but entered, closed the door behind her, and faceplanted on the bed next to him. That wasn’t exactly what Lukin had expected, but rather than speak, he simply sat in his chair and watched her. She remained like this until she ran out of air, then looked at him. 

Trovek: How did the story go? 

Zorkal: It was fine.  I read her a story about Chrika the Hound.  It is a character featured in a series of stories often told to Cardassian children.  

Trovek: I am sure she loved it. 

Did she?  Geleth seemed to enjoy it.  Did it sooth her?  She went to bed without argument.  She was a child.  She was a child not used to such kindness.  Did it help her at all?  He hoped so.  Only time would tell.  

Zorkal: Perhaps. 

She sighed and turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. She was…. done. For today, anyway. 

Trovek: I love seeing you with her. It’s appealing. And she seems to like you. Trust you more easily.

Zorkal: It might be simply because I baar more of the markings of her parents than you.

Arys was half Bajoran, just as her brother had been, but unlike him she was not Cardassian.  Their ridges were far more prominent, and the child had also been a resident of Cardassian.  Lukin looked more like the people she was used to.  

Trovek: I know. It’s why I left. She needs time, and I understand that. I want to… ::she sighed:: hug her and love her and tell her everything will be fine. But right now that’s not possible yet. She trusts you. She does not trust me. She deserves to feel safe.

Zorkal: She does.

He agreed readily, still watching the woman upon his bed.  Finally, he rose, then eased himself onto it beside her, back resting against the wall.  

Zorkal: But how will she come to learn to love and trust you if you flee whenever it gets difficult?

Trovek: I doubt she needs me, Lukin. She got you.

Zorkal: She needs stability.  Her parents have already left.  Yes, it was because of their death, it was unwanted.  They didn’t want to leave her.  But they have.  She both understands it and doesn’t understand it.  But right now, what she's seeing is two strangers who have come and brought her into a better place - but one of them keeps leaving.

Trovek: What can I possibly offer her? I don’t even know if I will be able to adopt her, and if I do, it’s only because of you. And then? It’s my fault her mother and father are not with her any more. 

Lukin grit his teeth.  She had mentioned that. She had also said she didn’t feel guilty over it either.  He had known then she was lying, and now it crept out.  

Zorkal: It is not your fault.

Trovek: I am not stupid. The timeline fits. I don’t believe in accidents, not if they are so conveniently timed. 

Oh yes, he had certain things he wanted to do to certain people.  At that very moment, he could have left Cardassian, found the party responsible, and squeezed every ounce of life out of them.  Yes, it was too convenient.  He understood that.  Unfortunately, so did she.  

Zorkal: You know that’s not true.

Trovek: No. The truth is that I came to Earth despite my father not wanting me there, took my grandfather out if the stasis-unit and killed him, took the documents despite my father asking to see them first… and then threatened my mother to disclose Taril’s existence to her sect. Tell me again how this isn’t my fault. 

He wanted to throttle her too, not to injure her, but to shake those thoughts and feelings out of ehr head, to make her realise that she was not the one who had done the wrong thing.

Zorkal: You were the one who took the suffering of a respected elder away, claimed documents that had been left to you, not your father, and called your mother out on her hypocrisy.  

And then there was the other half of him that wanted to do the opposite.  The one that wanted to draw her into his embrace, to hold her and tell her everything would be all right. To convince her that he was correct, that she was guiltless, and reassure her that he would make the truly guilty pay. It was the latter desire that was the strongest, and the one that won.  His arms encircled around her so he could pull her close to him. 

For a moment she froze, perhaps not having expected the sudden display of affection that was still so new to their relationship. If there was initial apprehension, it didn’t last long - only moments later she relaxed into his embrace. 

Trovek: That doesn’t change anything. I still… well. 

Zorkal: It is not you who is in the wrong.  It is them.  And at some point, something will be done about it.  That does not change the fact that you are Arys.  That you have the capacity to care for and love that child - and that is what she needs.

He sighed, fingers running through the rivulets of hair that cascaded down her back.  

Zorkal: And know this - you are not alone in it.

She knew that. She hadn’t expected that he would leave her alone with a half Cardassian child, but she did know what issues it could cause. And those worried her. 

Trovek: You already have enemies. They might think she’s ours, and even if not, they might very well disagree with whatever arrangement we find.

Zorkal: This is true.

Every Cardassian had enemies - and if they said they didn’t, they were lying.  He was simply more visible than many because of his current political status.  Even if he retired, there would likely still be those out there who wished to ill him.  Then there were those who might have certain memories of the Dominion war…

Trovek: Or perhaps it is another reason to try and poison you. ::she paused, then admitted:: Ferri told me. 

Lukin chose to ignore that comment. He had suspected that Ferri had told Arys, and he was not quite sure yet how to feel about the fact that his aide was more loyal to her than him. 

Zorkal: But not you?

Trovek: I don’t think those people like you enough to poison *me* instead. And it would be a waste of effort. I for one would take out the illness, not the symptom. 

She managed a smile, knowing full well that the statement bordered between dark humor and cynicism. Lukin snorted. 

Zorkal: We can’t know for certain.  It is possible.  But it is also possible that she would spend the rest of her childhood in that place.  Neither of us wish for that to happen.  This is not going to be easy, Arys, and I think you knew that when you made that internal decision to adopt her.

A decision he had known would happen, and that was why he had tried to make sure every contingency was covered.  Ferri had been a wall, but he’d managed to break it down.  Now they just needed to get past the government authority that oversaw the adoption of Cardassia’s children.  Theirs was a unique case, but he hoped they would see reason.

Trovek: I would never *not* want to take her. Especially not after seeing the orphanage. ::she shook her head and withdrew from his embrace, only to pull him down onto the pillows with her:: It’s odd that there is still such an… oversight. And I want her to like me. 

They landed in an odd position and Lukin shifted so that one arm furled beneath her and then both drew her closer to him.  

Zorkal: How can she come to like you if you keep running away?

Trovek: I am still working on that. And I know its not ideal. 

Oh, she knew. It was why she was doing her best not to freak out, and if she did, not let Geleth see that she was. She desperately wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t Lukin, but who was there? Dal had enough on his plate, Alora did not have children, she was still upset with Ferri, Aine was with her, and she was *Yael’s* assigned friend, not the other way around. 

Trovek: And I will try my best. ::she paused, looked at Lukin, and added with a somewhat gamely smirk:: And if we can manage her, we can manage all the others too. 

Hat caught him off guard.  Those Cardassian ridges arched upward stiffly in surprise. 

Zorkal: All the others?

Trovek: The other children we’ll adopt, of course. 

Zorkal: Ah.  Of course. 

She cuddled up to him, and once the Ambassador himself had been turned into the comfiest of Cardassian pillows, she closed her eyes to drift off to sleep. 

 

((Time skip, a few hours later))

Arys was dreaming, but as it was so often commonplace for dreams, she couldn’t identify it as such. Instead, she found herself standing in a blindingly bright room with white walls, and a single bed in front of her. A bed? No, not quite. It was one of the conversion containers in which they had laid her grandfather to rest, in which his body would be broken down until there was no person left, but only organic matter. She found herself staring at the body, only to realize that he was, in fact, alive and breathing. 

Not breathing. Wheezing. And coughing. 

Arys felt panic rising as she tried to find medication, tried to find anything to ease his pain, to help… 

Back in Lukin’s bed, she woke with a start, sitting up to take a few deep breaths. What an odd nightmare to have… and yet, despite being awake, the wheezing didn’t stop, but it didn’t come from her grandfather. 

It came from Geleth’s room. 

He must have heard it too, the croupy sound that was indicative of laboured breathing, of something that had settled into the lungs and clung voraciously, without thought to the misery it brought.  Without a word to the woman, Lukin rose from the bed, then made his way out of the room to cross to the one that the child occupied.  

Arys followed, still trying to calm down from the dream, and from the reality she was now faced with. They entered, and though the coughing had subsided, it only lasted a moment.  Upon their entry, it returned, and the sound rattled within the child’s chest.  Lukin allowed Arys to take up position on one side of the bed while he crossed around to the other. Geleth’s hand seemed to find his and he took it.

Trovek: I have a med-kit in my room, could you get it for me? And a glass of warm water. 

Lukin nodded and released the child, though he did offer a gentle pat before he stepped away to retrieve the requested kit.  

Arys sat down by the side of Geleth’s bed, and even though the child was reluctant to even look at her, she managed to help her sit up, rubbing the girl's back. She looked at Lukin as he returned, and reached out for the medical kit which he promptly gave to her.  That secured, he circled back around to sit on the other side once more, adults flanking the child.

Zorkal: Sitting up will help.

The child seemed to breathe more easily now, but, after a quick scan, Arys still decided on a medication that would help clear the lungs. For a Cardassian her temperature would have been high, for a Bajoran it would have been a little elevated - and for a hybrid like her, it was probably somewhere in the middle. 

Geleth: ::sniff:: I… I am sorry… 

Trovek: There is nothing to feel sorry about, Sweetling. ::she stroked over the girl’s hair, helping her hold the glass of water steady:: 

Lukin might have assisted in that as well, but rather he simply remained a presence. Arys was the doctor, but it also allowed her a chance to show Geleth that the woman could be trusted.  Still, it had hit her so suddenly.  The only time he’d had that sort of experience was when he’d been struck with that strange disease back on Deep Space 10 several years prior.  

Zorkal: Is this something you’ve experienced before?  

Geleth: S-.. sometimes.. 

Sometimes. So the girl had experienced this before, and yet, no one had told them. No one had treated her either, as far as Arys could tell. Respiratory diseases were common, and mostly an easy fix, or at the very least medicated. 

Lukin nodded.  If she’d had it before, then it was likely a recurring infection, or perhaps she was simply prone to such infections and not a pathogen that had been somehow given to her.  

Trovek: Since when do you have the cough, hm? 

Geleth: Since… since the house went foggy.

Zorkal: Foggy?

Lukin glanced over at Arys, then back to Geleth. 

Zorkal: Can you tell me more?

Geleth quickly shook her head, a clear indication that she did *not* want to talk about, and whatworried her more, right now, was any kind of punishment for the cough. Or perhaps they would send her back, now that they knew she was sick? 

He smiled, once again something far more gentle than he would normally give and he patted her hand again.

Zorkal: It’s all right Geleth.  Don’t worry about it now.  Arys is a doctor and she will help you.

And he had all the confidence in that woman.  Trusted her.  Actually trusted her.  Perhaps one day he might even tell her that.  His eyes shifted back to the doctor in question. 

Zorkal: She cares about you and wants you to be healthy and happy.

Arys nodded, taking the glass to set in down on the nightstand once Geleth wasn’t coughing any more. Geleth eyed Arys cautiously, wrestling with herself as to whether to trust the woman or not. Eventually, the child gave a careful nod. 

Trovek: Lukin is right. ::she paused, considering her next words carefully:: Can you t-… ::she stopped, then decided to try something else:: I have a Nazgûl pet, do you want to see him?

Geleth peered at her, not quite sure what a Nazgûll was. While the species was common on and native to Cardassia Prime, Geleth hadn’t grown up here. But she did know what pets were, and the question seemed to distract her enough from being scared. 

Geleth: Yes please. 

Arys nodded and got up, leaving the room, only to return a little later with the terrarium she had purchased for the small creature, waking it up in the process. 

Trovek: This is Gul Naz.

Geleth pressed her hand against the glass, then looked at Arys. 

Geleth: He can’t be a Gul. Guls are different. 

Lukin peered into the terrarium.  It was small, but temporary.  If Arys insisted on keeping it, then they would get something larger once back on Ops, though he would certainly recommend returning the creature back to where it came from.  After a moment, he leaned back and nodded. 

Zorkal: Very different.  That, my dear, is a nazgûl, a common lizard here on Cardassia.  She has managed to twist the name.  

Geleth: ::giggle:: She is odd. 

Lukin snorted in amusement.  Arys huffed, though in truth she didn’t mind. “Odd” was a good step up from “Scary”, and she’d take it any day. 

Trovek: People keep saying that. 

Zorkal: I wonder why.

He cast a sidelong glance, a flicker of a smile teasing over his lips for the briefest of moments. Geleth continued observing the lizard, and then, to the surprise of both Arys and Lukin, she proclaimed:

Geleth: We also have a pet. His name is Oksa. 

A pet.  So there was a child *and* an animal.  Frowning, Lukin inquired further. 

Zorkal: What kind of pet?

Geleth: He is a hound but… ::she lowered her hand and looked down at them:: he got sleepy. Everyone got sleepy. 

Sleepy.  He didn’t have to ask for clarification, he knew what it truly meant, even if the child herself didn’t.  She would have to learn soon enough.  But not right then.  Right then, they needed to get her better and deal with the government.  Large, hard to take lessons like that could wait for another day.  

Zorkal: I’m sorry Geleth.  It happens sometimes.  

Too many had gone to sleep and would never awaken again.  And there she was, left behind while the others had gone on before.  Sighing, Lukin turned and pulled the covers up further. 

Zorkal: Are you feeling better now?

Geleth nodded. She did - breathing came more easily, and now that she knew Lukin wasn’t mad at her, she was less scared. 

Zorkal: Arys has a way of doing that.

He began to tuck the covers around her and motioned for her to lie back.  

Zorkal: Rest will do wonders as well.  It is past your bedtime.  We’ll have breakfast in the morning and then decide what we shall do for the rest of the day.

Geleth: Can Naz stay in my room? Or does he sleep where Arys sleeps?

Arys gave a somewhat amused smile and placed the terrarium on the nightstand. 

Trovek: He can stay here tonight. I have another lizard. 

Lukin snorted, but offered no commentary on what lizard that was.  Geleth, of course, did not understand what that meant, and probably assumed there was another terrarium with a tiny creature in it. She lay down, eyes heavy, and reached for her pillow to hug it. Arys really needed to find a way to convince her to let her clean it. 

Trovek: Goodnight Sweetling. And if anything happens, we will be right here to help. 

Reaching out, Lukin placed a gentle hand atop her head.  Her hair was soft, her body warm, though not overly so now that she had been administered medication.  How different it was for her, taken from the people who had birthed her and cared for her, only to be thrust into a cage only to be passed back to another set of hands.  Hopefully they could provide her with some stability.  They had only one last hurdle.

Zorkal: Rest well, child.

He released her, then rose and made his way to the door so she could sleep.

[End Scene]

*****************

Lt. JG Trovek Arys

Medical Officer

Starbase 118 Ops

J239809TA4

And 

Dalin Lukin Zorkal 

Cardassian Ambassador 

Starbase 118 Ops 

M239008AD0

 

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

By now you all know I am a Lurys fanboy (if you have any other suggestion for their name @Arys and @Alora DeVeau write it down and I won't read them) so here's a double dose of them:

 

Quote

Zorkal: There’s a child.

 

Now, there was a *lot* that Arys had expected him to say, but this wasn’t one of those things. And because she hadn’t thought of a strategy as to how to deal with news such as that, she decided on sarcasm. 

 

Trovek: You’re pregnant? 

 

Lukin peered at her, taken aback by the question. 

 

Zorkal: No.

 

Trovek: …. I-... ::she paused:: … so that is why Ferri kept asking for my opinion about children? So you are saying you got *her* pregnant?

 

Arys liked Ferri, and did spend quite some time with her whenever their schedules allowed it, but she had noticed that the younger woman had brought up the topic of children more than once. 

 

Had it been anyone other than Arys, Lukin would have had far more control over his features.  He scoffed.  

 

Zorkal: I did no such thing. 

 

Trovek: ::smirk::Hey, it’s the logical conclusion. Not like you are known for your amazing impulse control with your oaths and all.

 

Quote

Trovek: Lukin, start answering questions with actual information instead of dodging them!

And that was the moment Arys decided to throw the book at him. 

Perhaps it was because he hadn’t thought she would really throw something at him.  Perhaps it was because he had placed a certain level of trust in this particular woman.  Perhaps it was because he was sitting on the couch rather than standing at attention.   Whatever the reason, Lukin did not escape unscathed, and though he attempted to avoid the object, the book clipped his ear.  Growling he straightened. 

Zorkal: Woman!

Trovek: ::mirroring his tone:: Lukin! 

Zorkal: You’ve just assaulted an ambassador.  Do you realise what the consequences are?

Trovek: …. He deserved it. 

She rolled her eyes at him and sighed, then approached and picked up the book. She was still angry. Her hands were shaking, but throwing the book at him had definitely helped. She placed the book on the table before sitting down next to Lukin and glanced at his ear. 

Trovek: It didn’ fall off. You’ll survive. 

 

[Quotes: Excalibur-Eyyyyyyyy]

Rolling high on perception Doc

 

Quote

Adea: Sorry, did you just ask Addison on a date?

 

Niac: Response

 

Adea: “Know a thing or two about chemistry” - come on, that’s a line. How long did it take you to think up?

 

Niac: Response

 

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

Quote

There was something about the young Cardassian. Maybe it was that little spark of rebellion when she pet the fish in the pond outside the Embassy on 118. Or her slightly broken way of speaking Federation Standard. Whatever it was, it made Aine agree to come to Cardassia...and even wear the dark green and blue dress that Ferri had recommended to her. And Aine never wore dresses.

Well that isn't exactly true, but it seams to be worth the effort

[Lt. JG Trovek & Amb. Zorkal - "Lies And Deception!" (Part II)]

I think it's the first time any scene based on a Portuguese place is written by someone else other than me.

Thank you so much both of you. 💚 🤗

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

Yes I am catching up with Ops sims.

Couldn't let this gem out

 

Quote

Trovek: On Cardassia, everyone has a place. Me, coming home from work. You, in the kitchen.

Zorkal: You over my knee.  

Trovek: ::smirking:: Shhh. Don’t ruin it.

 

[Lt. JG Trovek & Amb. Zorkal - "Lies And Deception!" (Part II)]

OK this is completely self indulging.

Thank you @Arys for choosing such a romantic and familiar place.

Perfect the way it was described.

And @Alora DeVeau. I love Lukin as well.

 

Now I only have a question, is it Lukrys or Arin?

 

Quote

((Lukin’s Quarters, Starbase 118))

And yet, the dinner eventually came to an end.  Even the cake, though quite sweet, was also very good and given due consideration like everything else, even if it wasn’t Cardassian in origin. And yes, he even endured the singing, though her voice was pleasant.  Afterwards, the holodeck awaited them.  Together, they two made their way out and he allowed her to lead him until they came to the place in question.

The program Arys had chosen was a simple one if complexity meant a certain amount of holograms and excitement. Instead, they crossed the hallways of a magnificent Terran country house with white wooden arches supporting the ceiling. They continued their way to a central fountain, from which two beautifully tiled hallways led in either direction through marble pillars until eventually, they found themselves in a circular room with floor-to-ceiling windows. There was not much here, other than a sofa and chairs, refreshments and wine on the table by the seating, and a white grand piano. It even seemed the temperature had been adjusted to his liking.

Trovek: This is a replica of Monserrate Palace on Earth. it is quite famous. 

Zorkal: It’s very opulent.

Indeed, he could already tell by the ornate stonework and bright colours that decorated the outside.  But inside?  Everywhere he went shone with gold.  Reds were prominently displayed as well as white, and all the walls, latticework, and ceilings boasted intricate, swirling patterns.  The cold stone of the floor echoed only lightly with the clatter of their boots.  Compared to some palaces, this was modest and petite, but for Lukin, it was a sign of extreme wealth and prosperity.

They passed through one place, the scrollwork as common as the previous room, and from there they entered a circular room, upon which a decorated floor cooled their vision with splashes of blue, and from there into another which was all white and gold with hints of a lighter blue in between the scrolling that lined the bottom edge of the ceiling.  High, rounded windows were capped with wood, like the other windows they had passed, the intricate, twisting vine-like shapes upon their brows.  In between each window was a wall panel in the same shape, and inset with a railing painted white with golden rings of setting a less intricate scrolled wooden cap.  There, flanking one of those panels, was a piano, a baby grand, shiny black.  Around the room were tables all set for a meal with crystal goblins and clear plates that had a single, thin circle of gold inset in the middle.  Cloths of spring green-carpeted the dishes, and simple wood chairs were quite the contrast to the complexity around them.  

Arys nodded, gently taking his hand as she led him to the seating area. She enjoyed that he played along, even if she was sure that he didn’t care much for her affection and cooking and the need to sing happy birthday.

Once he had taken a seat she moved over to the piano, opened it, and placed her fingers on the keys. Saying that it had been a while since she last played was a lie - she had practised like she had practised everything else. And so, she just began playing.

There was a time she could have become a musician. She had spent hours learning the piano after her accident, when moving had been first impossible, and then just difficult. Her father had helped her to sit onto the bench in front of the piano, but she didn’t want to think about that now. The memory of the accident was a painful one, the memory of her father even more so. 

Lukin didn’t speak, didn’t interrupt her performance, but sat there, his eyes unmoving as they reset upon her.  Though in general, Cardassian society had an appreciation for artistic endeavours, the previous government had been so stringent in its control, that only specific pieces would be allowed for the public.  Lukin enjoyed the arts greatly, though he himself was not an artist and would never claim to be such. But she, she was.  Her fingers stroke the keys with practised eased and he knew she had lied, but it didn’t matter.  He simply sat, enjoying the view of her immersed in the world of notes and letting them wash over her. Only when she finished did he finally speak.

Zorkal: What was the name of that piece?

Trovek: It is called ‘The Heart Asks Pleasure first’. I almost expected you’d know it.

Zorkal: I’m not familiar with much Terran music, though I’ve heard of a few things here and there.  

Trovek: Weeeeeell…. ::she smirked, turning to him, before striking a single key, then another one:: You might be vaguely familiar with this one.

A third note, then a fourth one. And then Lukin recognised what she was playing. Though the instrument was foreign, the melody was well known to him.  It was known to all Cardassians, whether they wished to be or not. During the time of the original government, it was played every day early in the morning and late at night as well as after all official broadcasts from the government.  Back then, it was almost dismissed by some, so familiar, so often played that it was more background noise than a song that anyone really thought deeply about - at least, for the most part.

But after the war, that changed.  After the war, the words took on new vibrancy, new life.  For those who strove to rebuild Cardassia from the ashes, those words held a much deeper meaning.  For Lukin, they always had been significant, but even he couldn’t deny they had even more so after the end of the conflict.  He sat there, eyes closed and listened to every note, every harmonic, the simple straight forward tune underscoring each syllable.  She ended the piece, and turned to him once more, getting up, and joined him where he sat.  Lukin opened his eyes and gave her another smile, the kind he reserved just for her.  

Zorkal: Thank you.

She inclined her head, and for a moment she said nothing. It had been an odd endeavour - or so Ferri had pointed out - for someone with Bajoran roots to learn Cardassian cuisine and music. But she had wanted to do something special for him. 

Of course, the topic of Cardassian society, politics and literature had always interested Arys, though people who knew her also were aware that she despised cooking, and that she hadn’t played the piano for years. 

Perhaps she was changing too much. Perhaps she was no longer true to herself, but the wish to remain who she was, paled in comparison to her desire to make Lukin happy. He worked so much, worked towards the betterment of Cardassia, and if she could make his time away from work a little more enjoyable, she would do so. 

Trovek: I… ::pause:: am glad you liked it. It’s an unusual birthday present, I know. 

Zorkal: Unusual, but appreciated.  

She extended her hand towards his face, her fingertip caressing his cheek for only a moment before she withdrew again. After he had told her about Teje, she had decided to not push him towards something he had not yet wanted. 

For a moment, Lukin sat there in silence, watched her, stared, studying every feature upon her face.  Then, his own hand reached out to take hers so he could pull her closer, his arms wrapped around to envelop her in his warmth.

Zorkal: Thank you.

She cuddled up to him willingly, her chin resting on his shoulder. Despite not being an overly physical person, Arys enjoyed those moments together. They weren’t frequent, but that made them all the more treasured. 

Trovek: ::quietly:: You are making me feel all warm and fuzzy and happy. It’s awful, I hate it. 

Though her tone clearly showed that she wasn’t being serious, and the fact that she didn’t seem at all intent on escaping his embrace, confirmed it. On the contrary, she tilted her head, and for a quick, absent-minded moment, placed a kiss on his cheek.

She was tempting him.  Tempted him every day, simply by being close.  And now?  Lukin wondered why he bothered to even try.  So he stopped trying and turned his head to press his lips against hers.  

Arys blinked at him in surprise, staring into his eyes for a moment, but then her gaze softened. She felt deeply for him, and as long as they were in private, she did not hesitate to show how affectionate she could be. Once more her fingertips caressed the side of his cheek as she kissed him, and despite having been the one to cook, learn, and prepare the evening, she couldn’t help but think how lucky she was to have him.

*****************

Lt. JG Trovek Arys

Medical Officer

Starbase 118 Ops

J239809TA4

And 

Dalin Lukin Zorkal 

Cardassian Ambassador 

Starbase 118 Ops 

M239008AD0

 

[Lt. JG Trovek & Amb. Zorkal - "Lies And Deception!" (Part II)]

It's no secret I have been a fan of these two characters from the start.

I love this scene, thank you @Arys and @Alora DeVeau

 

Quote

((Lukin’s Quarters, Starbase 118))

Lukin was intrigued.  Something was up, though he couldn’t fathom what. Well, that wasn’t exactly true.  He was not without imagination and could conjure up some possibilities, but none of them seemed likely.  So, he simply resigned himself to waiting until he could speak to the person in question about the matter. 

Lukin’s quarters were not a part of the Coranum district.  There were two reasons for that.  First, paranoia.  While the newer Cardassian government was kinder than the old, it was not above certain actions that were echoes of the original.  Or perhaps he’d simply had too much experience and knew too many people in that government to be that trusting.  Taking quarters within the base’s habitat sector offered a bit more…privacy.  

The second reason had more to do with his mindset.  While he certainly could have the pick of anywhere in the Cardassian district, the idea that he was accepting of placement within what was considered Federation territory, so to speak, was a small, very subtle indication of his desire and willingness to cooperate with the conglomerate.  Even the small things mattered.  He knew that more than anyone. The downside was that it took longer for him to reach his home.  Fortunately, he was also a fairly patient man.  Most of the time.

Eventually, he came to the proper deck and, without hurrying, made his way toward his abode.  The doors parted as he approached and Lukin stepped inside. Initially, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Arys’ boots were sitting neatly at their usual spot, indicating that she had chosen the evening to visit, as she did on most evenings. And yet, something was different. 

His nose picked up the scent of roasted meats and spices, and as he stepped into the living- and dining area, he noticed the table set for the two of them, candles waiting to be lit, and plates awaiting food to be served.  

Arys in the meanwhile didn’t hear him enter. She had spent the past days - if not weeks - preparing. It had started several months ago when she had begun to learn cooking. Basic Terran cuisine at first, and then easy Cardassian recipes. And then, during one of Arys’ and Ferri’s meetings for a cup of Gelat, they had spoken about birthdays, and Ferri had told her that Lukin would be celebrating his in a few weeks’ time. While the younger woman had made sure to find out the exact date, Arys had begun planning the evening. 

Cooking was a lot like surgery - at least when it came to Cardassian cuisine - and Arys had practised this particular set of dishes several times by now, and fed them to Ferri. Ferri never complained, but this needed to be perfect. And those stupid slices of zabo-liver were just not browning the way they were supposed to.

The scene wasn’t necessarily out of place.  They often had dinner together, the table set, perhaps the candles absent, but always with an array of dishes arranged just so, and food that appealed not only to the taste, but to the senses of smell, sight, and, yes, even touch.  What *was* unusual was the person orchestrating it all. 

Lukin was a foodie, as some humans coined the term. He knew what he liked, though was not averse to trying new things.  He also had no qualms about sharing his opinions - and most Cardassians he knew were the same.  Occasionally, he made exceptions.  For instance, the first time he had ever gone to the Greasy Spoon, Lukin had almost left.  The arrangement and lack of colour made the food very unappealing.  However, as the establishment had been recommended he, in the interest of positive relations, endured. 

And he learned a lesson.

While the epitome of cuisine included a favourable appeal to all the senses, sometimes one or more could be lacking if the flavour was, at minimum, pleasant.  And, despite both the appearance and lack of nutritional value, the Greasy Spoon’s food did, at the very least, taste quite good.  

However, he still remained staunch in his belief that a truly *excellent* and the high-level course included all the aspects, not just some of them.  Thus far, what he saw was quite lovely.  She had a very balanced setting, and the candles added a different flair to the ambience.  

Zorkal: This is unexpected.

Arys turned around, not having noticed Lukin before. She wore one of the dresses she knew he liked on her, and an actual apron to protect said dress, and the way she smiled at him brought it all together. 

Trovek: I do hope so, it’s a surprise after all. And I am almost done too, so your timing is excellent.

He smiled.  Not the cynical or smirking expression that often graced his face when he was conversing with others, but a softer, gentler, more sincere hue that cast over his features.  It was a smile that was rarely given to others - but she was receiving it more and more often.

Zorkal: I see you’ve gone to a lot of effort.  Is there a purpose?

Did there have to be?  No, but Arys wasn’t known for cooking.  That was his thing for the most part.  But to have her do it?  Unexpected, and nice.

She tilted her head, wondering if he just wasn’t aware of the date, or if he wasn’t aware that *she* was. 

Trovek: It’s your birthday. 

It was.  Lukin knew that very well, but it hadn’t held a prominent place in his thoughts.  Birthdays were, usually, simply dates that marked when a person entered the world, ones to note for administrative purposes . Other than the thirtieth birthday, Cardassians didn’t do much.  Perhaps a small token, an acknowledgement, but they were not big deals beyond the ‘congratulations for surviving this long’ celebration that took place after reaching the third decade. 

Zorkal: I’m aware.  I did not realise that you knew of it.

She turned around, managing to flip the liver - she was roasting it with a few roots and fruits - just on time. It also bought her a few moments to consider her answer.

Trovek: It is part of your public record - but I will admit, a little lizard reminded me and kept your schedule clear for the evening.

Zorkal: Ah, I see.

And that explained why Ferri was so insistent on getting him out of his office.  

Zorkal: I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Trovek: Well, how about this - she also helped me to order the ingredients and tested the food when I was practising. If it’s not good, you can still be displeased at her. 

Zorkal: I can find many reasons to be displeased with her.

In truth, it was a joke.  Thus far, Lukin had few complaints about the woman, other than the fact that she was almost *too* complaint. That, he hoped, would change in time.  

Zorkal: And perhaps I should submit a consideration for a raise for her if she was at the mercy of being your test subject.

Trovek: Look at you earning yourself getting sent to bed without dinner. 

Shed smirked and elbowed him, gently of course, and then sent him back to the dining area.

He snorted, then moved over to take his seat.  Arys had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange everything, he would not interfere with her preparations.  In fact, he would simply enjoy them.

Zorkal: So I see zabo liver is on the menu for tonight.  Am I allowed to know what else is in store?

Arys joined him not much later, and began to serve the dishes she had prepared. There were five of them in total, which was similar to the extent Lukin cooked. Though the dishes were different - Arys had chosen meals for which the ingredients were difficult to find, especially outside of Cardassia. It was why Lukin hadn’t had the pleasure of enjoying them for a while. 

Trovek: We have the zabo liver with sliced, ha’ak shallots and Cardassian apples. Then we have pancakes filled with cream, Prucruk Mushroom and truffle. Theeeen ::she paused, trying to remember, and failing, the name of the dishes:: a stew with fruit-bat and ikri buns. I also made a salad and a pudding with candied Cardassian orchids. 

Zorkal: I'm impressed.

Which was the truth. Not only had she prepared some difficult dishes, but she’d also had to take no small amount of effort to procure the ingredients. In short, she had gone above and beyond.

Trovek: I might have broken several laws importing that Kanar you like, and I prepared iced Redleaf tea and Cardassian Sunset. ::pause:: And obviously there is a cake. 

Ah, kanar.  That was an indulgence that he only allowed himself every so often. Okay, maybe a little more often than that, and Verriar was always happy to oblige him in that manner. As for the laws that she broke, well he was sure she covered her tracks.

Zorkal: A cake?

Trovek: It’s a birthday. It needs a cake. 

Yes, he remembered seeing some birthdays over on deep space 10, and as far as he knew they often included cake. There had never been an explanation.

Zorkal: What is the significance of a cake on a birthday?

Trovek: Well it’s tradition on Earth, and has been for ages. 

Zorkal: And how did such a tradition come about?

Arys served the last of the food before removing her apron and taking a seat. She looked at the table filled with the different dishes she had cooked, and eventually, she lit the candles. Who would have thought she could be that kind of person, huh?

Trovek: I am actually not quite sure. I think it originated in ancient Greece - at least that is what I’ve heard. I just know that it’s tradition and… well, I thought perhaps I can share them with you. 

She offered a shrug, and began serving dinner, filling Lukin’s plate with a surprising eye for plate composition and awareness of complementing flavours. Oh yes, she had practised.

And Lukin noticed.  Noticed enough that he spent more time admiring it all than usual, appreciating the quality, but also the artistic value of everything she had accomplished.  Form, colour, placement, it was all part of the presentation, a work of art that would soon be devastated, but not without proper acknowledgement. 

Zorkal: A fine meal.  I don’t believe I could do better myself. 

Trovek: I also booked the holodeck, but if you’re tired and want to stay home, I understand. 

Home. That’s how she referred to Lukin’s quarters, while calling her own quarters ‘her place’. Still, she stayed here most of the time. It was somewhat surprising that they were managing not to intrude on each others space despite spending so much time together. 

Zorkal: A holodeck?  Even if I were tired, you’ve caught my curiosity.

Fatigue was a minor thing that would not intrude upon the enjoyment of the meal, or anything else, with Arys.  Finally finishing his survey, Lukin started with the zabo, placed it in his mouth, then sat there, slowly, carefully chewing and closing his eyes as he focused on the burst of flavour in his mouth. 

Trovek: Is it any good? 

Zorkal: It is excellent.

Even if it hadn’t been, Lukin would have lied.  Fortunately, that was unnecessary, as she had proved herself quite capable.  

Arys couldn’t quite hide a smile. It was more than the pleasant feeling of hard work paying off - just that she had trouble articulating why his praise made her happy.

Trovek: I’m glad. 

Zorkal: Back to the Holodeck.  What do you have planned?

Trovek: Oh - well this is optional, of course. I realized I never played for you, and I thought you might like it.

Ah yes, she was a musician.  Lukin was well aware of that, of how much she had studied it, but he had never had the pleasure of actually experiencing it.  Well now, that would change. 

Zorkal: What will you play?

Trovek: Terran piano.

Lukin chuckled.  Hew knew *what* she played, but he had meant something entirely different.  Ah, but let her keep her innocence, let her think that she had just told him something he didn’t know.

Zorkal: I’m honoured that I get a private audience.

Trovek: I suppose I was just looking at an excuse to spoil you.

She had already spoiled him, but Lukin wasn’t going to complain.  Oh no, he would accept it all in good humour.  It was nice.  He could get used to it. 

Zorkal: You are hereby given permission to spoil me all you wish.

But in truth, even if she didn’t, Lukin was quite fortunate to have her.  The slow dawning of his feelings for her had crept in, and more and more the true depth of them was also manifesting.  He gazed at her for a moment, then continued in his meal.  Slowly.  Carefully.  Thoughtfully.  Every bite was savoured, pondered, and appreciated.  Proper meals were not rushed, and this one certainly would not be.

*****************
Lt. JG Trovek Arys
Medical Officer
Starbase 118 Ops
J239809TA4

And 

Dalin Lukin Zorkal 
Cardassian Ambassador 
Starbase 118 Ops 
M239008AD0

 

[Ulst Rekaa - The Long Road Ahead]

This time you were the one beating me to it Doc.

I loved this final scene for Rekaa, great job @Karrod Niac

[NPC Mary Daniel — Making friends with Mary Daniel]

Wonderful work by @Yalu

A nice closure to a great character... Or Is it?

 

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(( OOC:  I have had so much fun writing the bizarre journey of Tina Kuppasoop/Mary Daniel.  What started as a throwaway one-liner in the Discord months ago turned into a surprisingly complex, interesting, and fun little multi-mission character arc.  Thanks to everyone who indulged all these weirdo twists and turns and played along. ))

(( Saints Emberly and Ashley Hospital for the Misguided and Gross, Shmuopolis ))

Mary was disappointed that no one seemed to express any sympathy when she trotted out the old pinching line.  Curious, as it always seemed to work so well back at home.  Since the only way out of Emberly and Ashley was through the front door or the trash chute, Mary presumed they’d be fighting their way to one destination or the other and was offended when each of them balked at her request for a phaser.

Etan: We can’t give you a phaser on account of your, uh, condition. ::he whispered:: We still do not know the effects the phased energy discharge might have on your, uh, child. Besides, ::he tried to move on quickly.:: We don’t need to fight our way out of here. ::he looked round at Niac.:: The tags?

Daniel:  ::scoffs::  oO I’m pregnant, not dead. Oo

Niac took a quick glance out the door and into the hallway.  The nursing staff’s rounds at night were erratic, and no one ever knew when the hospital enforcers would next make an appearance.

Niac:  We're clear, but I don't know for how long.  This may be our only window.

Vitor took a step closer to Mary.

Silveira: You won’t be needing a phaser Mary.

MacKenzie: Let’s move. Now.

Mary had never been happier.  Not only was she the star of this glorious little drama, but she literally had everyone’s undivided attention!  Hooray!  She took a page out of the monologue she delivered on Gallows Hill back in 1692 in front of half the village, while the other half were trapped in a barn with a mean cow.

Daniel: Ladies and gentlemen, at a moment like this, I think it would be appropriate to pause and reflect––

Mary never did know how to hold a room.  Before she could get to the part about her carefree childhood, running carelessly with her friends through fields of wheat, everyone seemed to have moved on from her, and Iljor cut her off.

Etan: We need to get you to the Excalibur, Ti- sorry, Mary. Doctor Adea needs to examine your child for any signs of illness. ::beat:: I don’t know how much you know about the 24th century but humans cannot ordinarily procreate with other species without, uh,  medical intervention. The longer you go without the proper care the more danger your life is in- and your child as well.

Mary was conflicted.  Part of her–the part that had unexpectedly been given a real, flesh-and-blood existence–wanted to be rescued, to continue living her life, to discover what untapped potential she had.  The other part of her–the part that was a two-dimensional character in a second-rate work of holofiction–wanted only to prolong the drama for as long as possible.

Daniel:  I just–– ::beat, places the back of her hand on her forehead::  I just don’t know.

Niac:  Clock's ticking.  Mary, you're going to have to trust us.  Think about it this way...::Karrod gestured to the dingy cell around them::...you know what the alternative is.  

Mary heard the sound of the double doors in the outer corridor slamming open.  The enforcers were on their way.  Mary had so far avoided the dreaded brain dump, but the odds that she’d escape from Saints Emberly and Ashley with her clever mind intact were getting longer by the second.

Niac:  Vitor, get on this door with me, we're about to have some serious company.  

Silveira: Well Doctor, you should have talked nicely to the Nurse.

MacKenzie: The decision is yours, Mary.

If Mary had kept a diary she would have written in elegant cursive: “I’ve never felt more alive.”

Daniel: I choose–– ::beat::  I choose––  ::beat, wimpers::  Oh, decisions are hard!

Iljor held up a small piece of technology that Mary didn’t recognize.  All she knew was that it definitely was not a butter churn.

Etan: This will help us get out of here quicker. It’s not going to hurt you, I promise you that. ::beat:: Tina knew me and she would tell you that I’m not lying to you.

Back in Jupe, Mary had run Tina’s mind through a juice press, and since then hadn’t had access to her memories.  She had no way of confirming his assertion, but as the orderlies’ footsteps grew nearer and their shouting grew louder, Mary’s thoughts were on matters other than playing Friends of Soup.

Niac:  Time's up...it's either us or them, Mary!

Mary wasn’t prepared to let this end without a fight.

Daniel:  Give me another five minutes!  Maybe we could talk about it some more?

Silveira: No time for discussions we have to leave. ::He smashed the stretcher against the door as if in a tug of war game.:: Someone better explain to me how this discretion thing works.

MacKenzie: ::annoyed:: Rest assured this is not it, Lieutenant…

Mary raised an eyebrow.  She could probably teach a lecture in discretion.  After all, she lived inside the mind of Tina Cup of Soup for weeks and no one had a clue.  Were it not for a whirlwind romance and the opportunity to run away with Burnt Ohst, she might have maintained her cover indefinitely

Etan: I know you’re scared- I would be in your situation- but this is all for your benefit- and your child as well. Help us help you both.

The door began to splinter as the orderlies on the outside pounded it with their truncheons.  Mary watched as Karrod and Vitor held the gurney-cum-barricade in place with every ounce of strength they had.  God Almighty, this was exciting.

Niac:  Quick, look out that little hole in the wall and tell me if we're near the roof of this place....hurry!

Mary’s eyes followed Sil has he closed the distance to the hole in the wall in two paces.  An astonishing display of virility.

Silveira: There’s a roof right beneath us. ::He gave a thumbs up to Commander Niac, and then turned to Mary:: I don’t want to leave you behind Mary.

MacKenzie: ::to Silveira:: We’re not. Let’s go.

Tears welled up in Mary’s eyes.  They were going to all this trouble just for her?  Was this what true friendship was?  All her life, Mary had been mistaken.  She thought of friendship as the currency by which favors were done and repaid in kind.  “Do this for me or I’ll not be your friend anymore” was a common refrain in her early years.  But these people, so selfless and kind and willing to do unto others that which––

Niac:  Get down!

The next several seconds were a blur.  Vitor grabbed Mary’s head and pressed it into his chest, causing Mary to violently dry heave from a faceful of sewage-saturated shirt.  The telltale sound of phaser fire erupted somewhere behind her, followed immediately by the ruckus of stone and mortar clattering and tumbling.  Mary looked up and saw a two-meter wide hole in the side of the building.  Stunned out of her train of thought, she stared out into the ice-cold night of Shmuopolis as if staring into the gaping maw of her own future.

Shaking away the fog of shock, Mary was immediately perturbed at what had just happened.  She thought back to the underground caves outside Jupe and crossed her hands over her chest in annoyance.

Daniel:  Oh, I see.  So when he does it, it’s okay.

Niac:  Everybody out, now!  Runabout is on the way, eta two minutes.  Get to the roof and find whatever cover you can!

Mary felt someone take her hand and pull her toward the hole in the wall.

Silveira: COME ON, WE ARE LEAVING!

MacKenzie: ::over her shoulder:: I hope none of them are dead, Commander…

Etan:  response

Niac:  What?!  I didn't shoot any of them!  ::Karrod flinched as the door shattered and the angry mob of orderlies began piling into the destroyed treatment room.::  Go!  

Vitor looked at Mary, and tightened his grip on her hand, getting ready to jump.

Silevira: Trust me.

Daniel:  :shakes head::  Nay.  I won’t do it.  I shan’t!

MacKenzie: ::angrily, fed up with the nonsense:: Go, before I push you!

A rush of frosty air buffeted against Mary’s face.  It took her a full second to realize Vitor had yoinked her by the arm and forced her to jump.  Thankfully, her cat-like reflexes allowed her to position herself for the impact, and she tucked into a calisthenic roll just like when she and her friends would secretly play Catch-the-Cornucopia out in the churchyard after Sunday school.  She stood, relatively unharmed, unlike Karrod Niac, who seemed to have landed poorly.

Silveira: Frack. Go on, I will get him.

Mary was immediately irritated that she was no longer the center of attention and affected a limp in an attempt to win back the sympathy of the others.  For some unknown reason, they seemed not to be having it, so she trudged on ahead.  A short distance away, a small Federation craft appeared and hovered not-so-inconspicuously nearby.

Etan:  Response

Silveira: SOMEONE NEEDS TO START A DIET… Next time I am stunning everyone in our way in and out. Then you can throw me out of the airlock when we get back.

MacKenzie: ::muttering:: Not if I take you all out first.

Sil, now carrying Karrod over his shoulder, reached out and took Mary’s hand.  They were walking so close to each other that the rhythmic cadence of Sil’s steps caused the back of Karrod’s head to brush gently against Mary’s neck again and again.

Silveira: And I am not giving you a choice anymore, your coming home like it or not.

Daniel: ::coquettishly::  Ooh, a lady never tells!

Everyone quickened their pace and boarded the craft without much additional fanfare.  Once their shoes hit the ramp, Sil squeezed Mary’s hand and went on ahead to deposit Karrod on the floor of the cockpit.  Mary, intoxicated by comfort and warmth, slumped down into one of the seats and watched the rescue team take their positions for the return trip.

MacKenzie: After you, Lieutenant.

Etan: Response

Silveira: Let’s get back home.

The engines rumbled and the craft nosed upwards into the atmosphere.

Daniel:  So, what’s everyone doing later?

Anyone:  response (if desired)

[End scene for Mary Daniel]

NPC Mary Daniel
Reformed (or has she?) Murderess
Demes II
Justin D238804DS0

 

[Quotes: Excalibur-Eyyyyyyyy]

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K. Morgan: I don’t know, but I’m tired of being kept in the dark all the time. Assistant Chief Medical Officer ought to count for something, right? ::muttering:: Not on this ship, apparently.

Bean:  You’d think!  Even just an acknowledgement would be nice.  A little gesture to let us know they think of us as more than just their order takers and lackeys.  ::mockingly::  “Yes, Sir.  No, Sir.  Right away, Sir.”

ch’Thorlles: But do they think of us as more than lackeys?

Quote

Bean:  Anything like this happen on any of your former postings?  I used to work on Deep Space 224, and that place was massive, but I always still felt like part of the team.

ch’Thorlles: When I served on ::he swelled with pride for a moment:: the Sovereign-class Gorkon, I *always* felt appreciated. At least by the head of Ops - I don’t think I ever actually saw the Admiral of Vices or whatever, but the chain of command at least knew I existed.

K. Morgan: ::shrugging:: I’ve always been Commander MacKenzie’s right-hand man. Wherever she’s been posted, she’s always requested to take me with her. The Veritas, the Embassy on Duronis II, the Thor… They were all impressive. I’ve felt like I had a voice, but only through her. Now that she’s moved into command…

Quote

He sat back in his chair and finished off his beer.

 

K. Morgan: They suck.

 

Leaving the question here.

Do the Lower Decks Officers on the Excalibur require a suggestion box?

[Quotes: Excalibur-Eyyyyyyyy]

Another gem from @Addison MacKenzie

 

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Addison rolled her eyes again.

 

…any harder and they’d likely roll right out of her skull and onto the floor.

 

Someone better pick them up

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

Such a little gem from @Arys

One can almost miss it in her sim

 

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Quite good? QUITE GOOD? 

 oO Woman, I am excellent. Oo

And apparently prone to a slight bit of arrogance. 

 

[Quotes: Excalibur-Eyyyyyyyy]

Quote

The irascible woman actually smiled and wiggled her eyebrows.  Karrod felt a strange flush of heat on his cheeks as she vaulted into the vehicle without another word.  Niac eventually had to prod him into motion and he hauled himself into the codrivers seat at the front, bringing the vehicles internal navigational sensors online and verifying its remote link to the runabout.  He cast a sidelong glance at MacKenzie as she started up the vehicle and Karrod had to suppress an urge to stare just a little bit longer.  

Niac:  oO Keep your eyes on the sensors and off the XO, idiot. Even if she is intoxicating. Oo

 

Sil fully endorses Commander @Karrod Niac last line of thought. 

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

Double hit from @Arys

First from Neeya Velix :

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With a sudden leap, Geoff aimed straight for Ozai, then impacted his face.  Considering that he had that odd face mask *and* a helmet, Neeya found his reaction - him jerking back - a little over the top. Also, apparently he had sired the spider, so Neeya didn’t get what the drama was all about. But it sure was funny to look at. 

 

And this one from Healer Se'vayan:
 

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Then again, he wondered what Tito was. He wore black, not blue, and was evidently different from DeVeau. A… dark scientist? 

 

[Lt JG Trovek Arys - Attention to Detail Pt.3]

I am totally bias in my opinion over @Arys writing. I think she is one of the most talented writers in the fleet.

But I admit I was surprised how she turned a medical sim into a riot.  This is the third one in a series of sims that really turned the table.

 

Quote

((Sickbay, USS Rahuba))

 

Ku’kari, the injured Risu Arys was treating, was circling down the drain. They all knew it, but none of them actually said it. It wasn’t necessary. One alarm after the other began beeping, each of them indicating another medical emergency in the small, 3’5 foot body. 

 

Medication was given, resuscitation attempted, but to no avail. Arys stared at the hypospray in her hand. There were species who were less affected by certain medications. Usually it was their size, their bodyweight, muscle mass - but sometimes there were other factors.

 

Trovek: I’ll give fifteen ccs. 

 

Nurse: That’s-…

 

Trovek: A lot. I know. 

 

But it didn’t exactly have potential to make the situation worse. Dead was dead. 

Arys administered the medication, and stared at the monitor. Not at the patient, the monitor. And she prayed for the medication to start working - not that she was a particularly religious person, not that she truly believed that there was some entity that would bother to have any influence in the outcome of the situation, but it was worth a try. 

 

Three minutes down. She should call it. 

 

Trovek: Time of-… 

 

And just like that, the Risu’s heart began beating again as the medication finally showed effect. There was a collective exhale as the blood pressure stopped plummeting. Not by much, not enough to save her, but there was hope. 

 

Trovek: M-… ::she swallowed hard and did her best to maintain her composure:: Move her to the surgical suite. 

 

Arys watched Ku’kari stabilising further and being moved away, before for the second time of this mission, taking refuge on the floor of the empty CMO’s office to gather her thoughts.  She didn’t want anyone to die. Enough people had died during their last mission, her grandfather had died only weeks before, and she didn’t want to deal with more death. 

And so, whatever it took, her patients wouldn’t die. They would be happy little squirrel-people on their weird tree-ship. Not dead in the Rahuba’s morgue. 

 

Kasun: =/\= Kasun to Trovek.  =/\=

 

Arys froze. Kasun? Oh, Kasun! Arys took a deep breath and answered the comms. 

 

Kasun: =/\= Are you still in the temple area? We have word that there is a person there who is in serious need of medical help. =/\=

 

Trovek: =/\= I am not, I am back on the Rahuba. We beamed up everyone in need of medical assistance. ::she paused, trying to keep her heart from beating out of her chest::  Who is she? 

 

Kasun: =/\= She’s an elderly Risu by the name of He’liska. =/\= :: She glanced to Ki’yara to add more of a description. :: =/\= She’s their Messenger, their religious leader? =/\=

 

Arys got up and left the office, making her way through the crowd of waiting Risu and to one of the consoles where the medical staff had begun to identify the Risu who had come aboard. 

 

Trovek: =/\= Let me take a look. He’liseka, you said? Hm.. ::she checked the records, finding the name she was looking for:: She’s here and-… ::and she had been dead upon arrival:: … and … oO Ki’yara is with them… Oo … she’s not in pain. =/\= 

 

And probably hadn’t been for long. At least the injuries she had sustained sounded fatal enough for a quick death. 

 

Kasun: =/\= You found her! Oh good. =/\=

 

Trovek: =/\= Yeah… that said we can’t beam much more over, we’re pretty busy up here. I need to get back to my patients. =/\=

 

The call was ended and Arys tried to push aside any thoughts of sympathy she had towards the young Risu leader who would, sooner or later, have to be confronted with the news. She returned to the CMO’s office, this time to make a note about who He’liseka was and that the dead Risu was somewhat relevant, before returning to the Primary Care Unit that doubled as a waiting area. 

The Risu, scared and injured alike, wanted to stick together, and all of them needed to remain in the established quarantine area. She glanced at the list of current patients, eager to get to work once more, when she caught sight of several Risu whispering with each other. 

 

Trovek: What seems to be the problem? Is either of you injured? 

 

She tried to put on her friendly face, and her soft voice. No need to scare those who were already scared. 

 

Risu: You spoke of He’liseka. Where is she? 

 

Trovek: She’s… ::Arys sighed:: I am very sorry. 

 

The male frowned, looking at the others before he spoke up again. 

 

Risu: You told the brooch that she is not in pain. 

 

Trovek: I… wanted to.. -..

 

Risu: You lied!

 

The room fell silent - as silent as a sickbay could possibly get - as more and more Risu began to take notice of the situation. 

 

“She said He’liseka is dead!”

 

“She can’t be! I have seen her alive just moments ago.”

 

“Where is she?”

 

“Those aliens are keeping her prisoner.” 

 

“I saw that one trying to kill Ku’kari”

 

Arys could taste the tension in the air as she drew upon her counselling skills to try and calm the situation down. 

 

Trovek: We are here to help, I promise. I will confirm what happened to your-.. to He’liseka, but we are not keeping her prisoner. I understand how strange and upsetting this situation is.” 

 

Risu: They are allies of the aliens that attacked us! I saw one of them!

 

Saw one of them? Did they mean Dal? He couldn’t possibly have seen Dal, he was busy being buried underneath rubble. Or, judging from the fact that he was not injured, stuck behind it. 

 

Trovek: What do you mean? 

 

A female chimed in, claiming to have seen them too. She pointed towards one of the beds on the far side of the intensive care unit, where Lieutenant Sh'shyllerh, the Andorian Arys and Tito had rescued from Cargo Bay, was laying unconscious. 

 

Arys highly doubted that the Si’laan had been attacked by Andorians, but what she believed wasn’t important. *They* seemed to believe it. The other Risu began to rise up from their seated position, theories of their impending enslavement filled the air, until one of them growled that they wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

 

That was a little detail Arys hadn’t considered. Those people were scared, but right now the crew of the Rahuba seemed like the enemy. And right now there were more Risu here than Starfleet personnel. 

 

Could she call security? No, not without causing the situation to escalate. And so, she tried the next best thing.

 

Trovek: =/\= Trovek to Kasun.  =/\=

 

Kasun: =/\= response  =/\=

 

Trovek: =/\= I am in sickbay, and there are almost three dozen Risu here.  =/\=

 

Kasun: =/\= response  =/\=

 

Trovek: ::trying to word this as neutrally as possible:: =/\= The news we discussed previous have… caused some anxiety… amongst those three dozen Risu.  =/\=

 

Kasun: =/\= response  =/\=

 

The voices of the Risu rose once more as the other medical personnel tried to keep them calm.

 

Trovek: =/\= I need help.  =/\=

 

Kasun: =/\= response  =/\=

 

 

TAG/ TBC

*****************

Lt. J.G. Trovek Arys 

Medical Officer 

Starbase 118 Ops

J239809TA4

 

[Juneau's Rememberable quotes!!! IC]

I am glad Sil left something good behind, thank you. But truly only a good writer like yourself would made it play so well. 😉

[Quotes: Excalibur-Eyyyyyyyy]

Welne is ordering one, but with a different design.

[Juneau's Rememberable quotes!!! IC]

Where did Dekas learned that expression? 😄

[Graphics Winners Announcement]

Congratulations @Kivik and @Ikaia Wong. Awesome entries. 

 

And to all the other contestants as well, since every work was great.

[Aine Sherlock]

[Aine Sherlock]

5 minutes ago, Arys said:

Are you sure Aine shouldn't be dreaming of Sil?

The theme is home not love

[Quotes: Excalibur-Eyyyyyyyy]

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Boeschg:  I wish I hadn’t had that second cup of tea before we left.  I have to go.

She stifled a burst of laughter. Perhaps with her own lack of maturity shining through. Hallia stiffened her face,  feeling some brief respite of warmth.

Yellir:  I think next time we should make it a mandatory rule that we do our business right before a stealth mission like this. ::pausing, Hallia gasped in realisation:: 

oO Goodness, imagine the spies that have all been found out because they’ve needed to go. Really, they’d all be caught with their pants down in that situation. Oo

No comments because I am still laughing...