Alora DeVeau

((OOC: Remember Barlowe? If not, here you go: https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-ops/c/71AO6MJkT-4/m/guejBiH3BAAJ Big thank you to Solaris McLaren for being willing to write Barlowe! )) ((Almost forgotten detainment cells, Miranda VII)) It was dangerous, and if she were to ask Alasafor, he would likely call her endeavour unnecessarily risky. But even if the opportunity had been there, Nestira wouldn’t have asked him - as a matter of fact, she had kept her decision hidden once she had made it, and she was fully aware that she would have to deal with the consequences herself. But how could she not investigate? The Rodulan had learned that Terra Prime had been able to catch someone they believed to be Starfleet. That not only made them a colleague, but likely an integral part of the network that relayed the gathered intel on Terra Prime to Starbase 118. If this network was compromised, Nestira would have to know. There was no use in providing reports that never made it to their destination, and it would explain why Taybrim hadn’t taken action when an escalation of the situation was so… imminent. As she approached the cell, Nestira wondered why no guards stood ready. Not even the door was locked. Quietly, she stepped into the small room… Pain. That was the word that currently described Richard Barlowe's world. Mostly in his head, but the rest of his body wasn't without it either. He wasn't sure where it had all gone wrong. After he had met with their undercover, he himself had gone ahead to Miranda VII to set up a system for getting their reports back to 118, and it had worked for a bit, but on his way to retrieve a report, Terra Prime had descended upon him and whisked him off to a dank cell in some undisclosed part of the station. It was there that the longest couple of weeks of his life had begun. Of course he told them nothing, which had resulted in beatings, and eventually some more serious mutilations. Even though his head was bandaged and he couldn't see through them he was short at least one eye, and possibly both of them. That in addition to the bruised ribs and what he was sure was a broken arm. However just because he couldn't see, that didnt mean he couldn't hear. So when the door to his cell opened his head turned to face it. Someone had come to see him. Barlowe: Come back for some more have you? I've already told you I don't know anything. Before Nestira responded, she allowed herself a moment to look at what was left of the man in front of her. To briefly and rationally assess the injuries he had sustained. To make a first decision on what the best course of action was. Aristren: So you have said. That voice. He recognized it, and he knew it shouldn't have been anywhere near him. Barlowe: Oh someone else come to try and get information that doesn't exist? oO What are you doing here? Oo It took her a moment to connect the voice to a face and to a name - Richard Barlowe, one of the two Intel officers who had recruited her for this mission. Or rather, the man who had been sent to communicate orders that had come from someone else, perhaps the recently returned McLaren. Nestira hadn’t known that he was her contact while on Miranda VII - she had been kept in the dark as much as possible for the protection of the established network, but evidently it hadn’t served Barlowe well. Aristren: This is… going to be unpleasant. Which carried a double meaning. Alasafor was Rodulan, and communication between both of them was easy. It wasn’t without strain, but that slight exhaustion was nothing compared to what it was like to connect to someone who was entirely human and entirely non-telepathic. Over the decades she had, perhaps, learned to make her intrusions less painful, but she lacked the older Rodulan’s experience and skill to make it truly painless. Barlowe groaned as he shifted, cradling his arm tenderly. Barlowe: Or maybe you've just come to laugh, is that it? oO You shouldn't be here... Oo Aristren: I heard that they had caught a Starfleet Officer. I was interested to see if they were right. ~ I apologise for the discomfort. It has been a taxing set of weeks. ~ She approached, maintaining watch of her surroundings. It wouldn’t serve either of them for her to get caught because she was careless. Barlowe: Do I look like a Starfleet Officer? oO Probably not more taxing than mine… Oo Aristren: You do not look like a Starfleet spy to me. ::she paused, allowing his mind to switch between spoken and telepathic communication, then voiced the concern that had brought her here. ~ Since when are you here? ~ Had any of the information she had provided made it to Starbase 118? Was Taybrim informed of the impending execution of the plan that would cost the lives of thousands? Barlowe: That's what I've been telling them… oO I arrived shortly before you did. Oo Aristren: And you maintain that you do not know anything? ::pause:: ~ What information have you disclosed? I will not judge, but I need to know. ~ Barlowe: Nothing. oO You think I would look like this if I had disclosed anything? Oo She shook her head slowly, approaching further. Eventually she knelt down next to him. Proximity would make things easier. Hopefully. Barlowe shifted slightly again. The discomfort he was experiencing because of Nestira’s telepathy was nothing to what he had already been through, but that didn't make it less uncomfortable. Barlowe: This is what Terra Prime does to those they suspect. oO Your reports haven't been getting out to 118 for a while now. Oo Aristren: ~ I have feared this. ~ As they should. ::pause:: As we should. If you are truly with us, you would want the same treatment for those who would harm us. Barlowe: I don't know what I did to deserve this. oO I don't know who set up this operation… but it's been wrong since the beginning. Oo It was a thought that had crossed Nestira’s mind before. She had already switched to Counselling when she was assigned to Miranda VII, and even while being part of Intel she had never been sent into an undercover operation. Because she wasn’t a good choice for it. While a Bajoran with some cosmetic adjustments could easily pass as a Human, the Rodulan brain structure was distinctly different. A scan with a somewhat up-to-date medical tricorder would easily unmask her. Aristren: Neither do I. ~ What do we do? How do we solve this? ~ He fell silent, the telepathy taxing him more. Barlowe: oO Keep gathering information. Find a way to get it out if you can… but be careful who you trust. Stay low and you might survive… even if I don’t. Oo She gave a slow nod, and for a moment, she too fell silent. Aristren: ~ How much longer can you hold on? ~ Nestira did not know how to get Barlowe out of this cell, let alone the medical care he needed. And if Taybrim wasn’t informed of what was happening here, rescue could come in minutes, hours, days, weeks or months. Or not at all. He grimaced, slumping against the wall of the cell. Barlowe: oO Not much longer. Not long enough to wait for rescue… Oo She offered a sad smile, understanding what he meant. Aristren: ~ I understand. But death is final. Your story ends, and all that potential you have is lost. There will never again be someone that is you. You are not replaceable. But you have a right to… dignity. ~ Going out on his own terms, as much as it was possible. To regain some control. To not leave this realm scared, alone and in pain. But she did not want to make this decision for him. Richard turned his head to face her. He couldn't look at her, and yet he was looking right at her. Barlowe: oO I want this to end… I’m tired. Oo It was a request as much as it was a statement. Aristren: ~ I can help. ~ Barlowe: oO Then please… do so. Oo Nestira nodded, reaching for the hypospray Katalina had given her. It was an old model, reused beyond recommendation, and definitely not Starfleet issue. It lacked the safeties that were the norm by now. The medication was released into the air with a hiss, and opening the applicator filled it with air instead. Aristren: I have to inject this. Don’t worry, it … won’t hurt much. Barlowe inclined his head, and his hand reached for Nestira. They barely knew each other, but in their final moment, no one wanted to be alone. She sat down next to him, offering the physical contact that would give him comfort. Aristren: ::whispering:: Safe travels, Richard. She placed the hypospray against his neck, injecting the stream of air into the carotid artery. A few moments later, what was left of Richard Barlowe was an empty husk. TBC... Lt. J.G. Nestira Aristren Intelligence Officer Starbase 118 Ops J239809TA4 and Richard Barlowe Simmed by Lt. Commander Solaris McLaren Mission Specialist (Intel) Starbase 118 Ops C239210SM0

Loved this comparison!

That's his call sign.

Since we're doing a mission set in the 2260s, I would have been disappointed if someone at some point hadn't done something with this line. 😄

Krystal has her pegged at at least 100.

Really? Well now, I'm going to have to use this.

Welcome! Glad to have you with us!

That's all. No big deal.

((USS ‘Oumuamua - deck 8 - cargo bay 2)) Rows of round containers stacked upon one another. Several one meter flat boxes piled at least 4 meters high. The young lady, ivory skin a pleasant contrast with black hair piled into a loose bun was clad in the gold of her position. She pulled her tunic down over her rounded hips and grimaced. Losing weight was high on her to-do list but that hadn’t worked out well. She really liked those banana splits the mess hall made for her… every day. Low to no calorie, but she still kept the weight on. Jean stood in the doorway keeping the opening from closing. She silently and slowly slid her phaser from its holster. A simple glance down to check the setting was all she needed. Set at stun, she keyed the control to heavy stun. One never knew what would pop out from between those containers. Her only clue as to why she was here was the vague order to “search number 2, apprehend whoever was there and transport them (or it) to the brig”. According to the tricorder, what she was looking for was four containers away. Slipping along the orderly rows of essential goods, the ensign watched the little red blip. It wasn’t moving. Was that a good thing? Hearing the sliding doors moving when they shouldn’t be, Ensign Bratton’s hearing perked up. She spun around, phaser at the ready. Doors closed, no one visible. A whisper of cloth against cloth was her only warning. A hand came down on her wrist; the phaser clanked against the floor and skittered across the grey decking. Jean’s knee came up quickly, slamming into her opponent’s thigh. Not where she was hoping, but that was where she landed. It was enough to cause the intruder to grunt and lean to the left. The edge of Jean’s hand came up swift and hard against the exposed neck. Her opponent collapsed. Not bothering to ask questions - that would happen once they were in the brig and had more time. Ensign Bratton slapped her comm badge. Bratton: =/\= Two to beam directly to the brig =/\= Brig Officer: =/\= Energising. =/\= ((Deck 7 - Brig)) Jean stared at her adversary. Human, dishwater blond, and cute in a pixie way. Obviously a woman, she wasn’t wearing a uniform but that could be because she was off-duty. Or she shouldn’t be on the ‘Oumuamua in the first place. Bratton: Who are you? The brig attendant had beamed her into the cell behind the force field that would hold her until Jean’s superior arrived. The intruder stood still with no expression. To Bratton’s inexperienced eyes, it looked like she was waiting. She didn’t seem alarmed at her predicament. Nor did she appear nervous. And just as Jean was going to ask another question (that probably would never be answered anyway) the woman was gone. No shimmering beam, no warning. Placing a finger to her lips, the ensign wondered if she should contact the chief - Kessler? Or maybe the XO. This would be his purview. While pondering, the brig officer was making his own report. Brig officer Alton: ::to jean as his fingers sailed over his console:: She stole an engineering toolbox. ::pause:: That could explain why we’re missing one. Jean relaxed, leaning against the brig controls. Shore leave was almost over and they'd be starting a new mission. That was when she could return to her normal activities: relaxing. —————————— Ensign Jean Bratton Security officer Lt. (jg) Toz Medical Officer USS ‘Oumuamua T239811T14

((Kessler’s Quarters - Deck 4 - USS ‘Oumuamua)) The day seemed to pass by very quickly for Jack and he was looking forward to seeing Krystal and Lilou. The trip from the bridge to his quarters had been un-interrupted but when he arrived at their quarters he discovered both Krystal and Lilou were not there. Glancing around the living area Jack spied a white card folded in half and standing on it’s two ends on the dining table. He stepped over and retrieved the card from the table and opened it. “Taking Lilou to the arboretum to play - Krystal” Jack smiled. He was happy that Krystal and Lilou were getting along so well and that they were actually here for each other. Jack turned and walked over to his favorite chair and unzipping his tunic he slid down into the chair and picked up a PADD out of habit looking for a message from his parents. He paused and almost tossed the PADD across the room for the thought but stopped and leaned forward. He did have a message, but not from his parents. He tapped on the letter and it opened to the screen. He took in a long deep breath and then let it out slowly as he sat back and read the letter. USS Io - Stardate 240001.30 “Hello Jack. I know you are hurting and the lack of response tells me it is worse than you are letting on. Since you have decided to avoid this conversation I am forcing your hand. By the time you get this message I will be arriving on the ‘Oumuamua. See you in a bit. Love Michele” Jack sat up and tapped the message closed. Kessler: Computer (beat) Are there any personnel scheduled to arrive aboard the ‘Oumuamua today? Computer: Affirmative. Kessler: Who is the individual arriving? Computer: 1st Lieutenant Michele Winters Jack’s eyelids slowly closed and he tapped his combadge. Kessler: =/\= Kessler to sickbay. We have a medical officer coming aboard. Can someone meet me in the shuttle bay to welcome the shuttle? =/\= Hunched over his desk reviewing several articles from the starfleet medical database V’Len looked up when his combadge chirped. Kel: =/\= Kel here. I can head down now =/\= Rox: =/\= Is that Jack? Don’t go anywhere off the ship with him. He’s bad luck. I almost turned into a wrinkly space wizard. =/\= Kel: =/\= Thank you Nurse, I think I can handle it. Kel and Rox out. =/\= Kessler: =/\= Thank you. I am headed there now. =/\= Jack stood from his chair and headed out of his quarters rezipping up his tunic. It wasn’t that he was not happy to hear from or even to see Michele. The issue Jack was having was that he had created somewhat of a situation by not responding to any of her communications since his parents ship had been lost. Michele was not one to take no for an answer and she was not one to be ignored. V’Len toyed with the idea of taking Rox with him so she could learn how to properly greet a new member of the crew. Ensign Tyber had not only been tricked into doing Rox’s work, but had also taken an unplanned sim in the Cetacean ops pool. However, V’Len had barely seen Jack during shore leave. Typically, they would have been on the holodeck solving a mystery, but with the attempted murder of Jack, V’Len Nesre and Wes by the EMH and the loss of Jack’s parents, it seemed like the holodeck was off the table this time around. V’Len told Rox to watch the sickbay and then told Toz to watch Rox. ((Main Shuttlebay - Deck 10 - USS ‘Oumuamua)) Jack arrived just outside the main shuttlebay as did his counterpart from sickbay. Smiling he tilted his head towards the main doors and chuckled. Kessler: You’re in for a treat. Kel: Am I? ::looking around in mock nervousness:: Do I need a helmet? Jack smiled and almost laughed. He was not sure how Michele was going to come off that shuttle. If she was concerned he hoped for a warm welcome and things would go smoothly. If she was mad, he might need a security team to help out. Kessler: Let’s just say (beat) I know a little about this officer. Kel: Another relative? ::chuckling, then serious:: Are you and Krystal doing ok? You know if you need anything at all, you can always call on me. The two stepped in and up to the forward safety area. The bay doors were already open, and the vacuum of space kept out by the forcefield that would allow the shuttle to enter and land while the two waited. The shuttle was visible from outside as it approached and Jack’s anticipation grew. He felt his heart rate quicked, fear or nerves, he was not sure but the sensation of excitement also back filled the feelings he was having. V’Len waited and glanced over at Jack. He seemed somehow apprehensive and V’Len wondered who really was in that shuttle. Perhaps it was another of Jack’s relations after all. The type-14 shuttle entered the bay and slowly came down to the deck with a light thud. The boarding ramp lowered at the rear and Jack led the way towards the rear of the shuttle with V’Len in tow. Jack halted his approach as Michele exited the shuttle and stepped around to face Jack and his companion. His eyes locked with hers and for a moment so many questions seemed to bounce back and forth between them silently. V’Len glanced between the pair. He was clearly missing some context, but it was clear that this woman was more than just an acquaintance or someone Jack had met at the academy. Kessler: (slightly smiling) This is an ambush. The five foot, four inch tall human female smiled a deviant smile and lowered her gear to the deck and then stepped up to Jack, brushing her dirty blond hair back past her ears she placed both hands on Jack's head. One on either side of his temples and stood to her toes, pulling his face closer to hers until their lips almost met, then pausing with a tease she lowered herself back down to her heels. There was nothing more in her heart than love for this man but he had been avoiding her since his parents disappearance. He needed rescuing and this was why she was here. Jack’s heart leapt to his throat as she grabbed his head and pulled him down towards her as she stood on her toes to meet him. Her slim frame had remained the same in the year plus since they had last seen each other and his gaze fell into her green eyes. She knew how to completely take him off his feet in one movement and yet she paused just as their lips were about to touch, held for a breathless second and then slowly leaned back and away. Jack did not know what to feel at this exact moment but he knew that he wanted to kiss her and then throw her back on the shuttle before things became more complicated. V’Len raised his eyebrows. He was glad he had left Rox behind. Whatever was going on between Jack and this new officer V’Len was apparently being given a front row seat. Winters: It’s good to see you too Jack. (turning to the other officer standing beside Jack and holding out a hand to shake) Michele Winters. Kel: Ah yes (shaking the woman’s hand) Lt. V’Len Kel, I’m the Oumuamua’s chief medical officer. Winters: (smiling gracefully at Kel) Yes you are. Andorian and Trill. An extremely rare combination, of course if I read your bio correctly (beat) yours was via a transporter accident. An amazing story, I do hope we can talk about it sometime? (beat) From a medical standpoint of course. On the one hand it would save V’Len a lot of time explaining what happened, on the other hand it meant he needed to find something else to talk to the new lieutenant about. He suspected she was not going to be entranced by fungus quite the way Salo always seemed to be. Kessler: (looking between the two and finally resting back on Michele’s eyes) We need to talk about this visit. V’Len struggled to think of something to ask besides the obvious “how exactly do you and Jack know each other”? Were they a couple, engaged, married? V’Len had never heard Jack talk about a wife, not that Kel made a habit of talking about his personal life. He looked back at Michelle Winters. She wore a green shouldered uniform, so she was a marine of some sort apparently. Kel: So Lieutenant Winters, you’re a new addition to our marine contingent then? Kessler: (to V’Len) No, she’s just visiting for a little while. V’Len was surprised to see Jack scramble to collect Winters’ gear as they began to cross the shuttlebay. Winters: (brow furrowed) Not visiting Jack. (to V’Len) I have officially transferred to the ‘Oumuamua. I am a Combat Medic. Graduated Starfleet Academy with Jack and am a fully trained nurse as well as a trained Marine. (glancing back to Jack and smiling) We will remember that won’t we? V’Len was always glad for more help in the sickbay. Jack on the other hand seemed somehow less enthused. Michele walked past Jack who had as he always done grabbed her bag for her. His father had trained him well and Michele admired that in him even if he was not happy to see her. Of course this was his doing but she knew how much he internalized things and getting him to talk was something she had experience with. Kel: Well, all I can say is thank goodness. I often end up following Colonel Greaves into risky situations. He’ll have someone more qualified to assist him than a bumbling doctor who likes to study fungus. ::Chuckling:: Winters: Let’s not go racing into danger here doctor. I would prefer to get settled into Sickbay before having to patch anyone up in the field. Jack felt speechless and for the moment V’Len was taking the heat off of him. That at least gave him a moment to collect his thoughts and then pursue the two as they departed the shuttle bay. Kessler: Ok, so you are here for more than a visit. We still need to talk about this Michele. They exited into the corridor and the door to the shuttlebay hissed shut behind them. Jack smiled to himself as Michele continued walking alongside V’Len. She was totally ignoring him now. He wanted to laugh, he had just missed a kiss and had been demoted to bag boy all in less than five minutes. Kel: Well welcome, officially to the Oumuamau. I’m not sure where you’re heading off to, but I’d be happy to show you our sickbay. I’ve worked to make it an excellent facility. My colleague Dr. Toz is an amazing physician and our nursing staff (pause) well they’re mostly sane. Winters:(with a smile and a tilt of the head) Why thank you Doctor. I’m glad someone is happy I am here. Kessler: I never said I wasn't happy to see you. Jack might as well have been talking to the bulkhead. She had totally turned on the cold shoulder routine and now he was going to have to work to get her to respond. Oh he hated it when she did this, not because she knew she could torture him but because she was so good at it. Michele heard Jack but did not glance back or respond. He had avoided her and made her change duty posts just to get to talk to him. She knew what they had agreed to and why he wanted to talk about this transfer but she wasn’t going to change her mind. Not now, not after everything that had happened to him. Kel: At the risk of sounding indelicate, how exactly are Mr. Kessler and yourself acquainted? ::gesturing toward Jack:: Michele looked up at the Trilldorian and smiled and then allowed a disappointed look to cross her face. Had Jack really not mentioned her to anyone or maybe the Doctor just wasn’t close to Jack. Well, this was time for a change and Jack needed to come out of his shell. Winters: (smiling) Well, I can see that nearly three years of dating didn’t earn a mention to your crewmates Jack? And here I thought I was the one to melt your heart (grasping her chest with both hands in a dramatic tone) Well, maybe there’s another girl out here who has your attention? Michele smiled devilishly and looked over to the Doctor. V’Len for his part was beginning to understand the terms “third wheel” and “stepped in it”. Jack had never mentioned Michelle to him though V’Len regarded him as a close friend. The two options before him were that Jack did not regard him as closely or that things between Michelle and Jack were complicated. Given all the evidence V’Len tended to believe the latter rather than the former. Winters: So does he have a girlfriend aboard I should be jealous over? (smirking and almost laughing) They continued their journey through the Oumuamua. Entering the turbolift V’Len headed for deck 7 almost without thinking. Perhaps he subconsciously wanted to get back to the safety of his sickbay. In any event Michele’s question was not one V’Len wanted to answer. He was reluctant to bring up Jack’s relationship with Nesre. Firstly because he was not sure how Michele would react. Secondly because, after their dinner on Seytoxal, V’Len could not seem to get Nesre out of his mind. It had been difficult before, it was near impossible now. He decided to punt. Kel: Jack and the ladies. It's a legend that tells itself. Just ask the Delaney sisters. Jack threw a look at his friend. What was he saying? Not the best of ideas V’Len buddy. Kel: ::seeing Jack’s look, raising hands:: Kidding, of course. (beat) When I first met Jack I thought he was part of some celibate religious order. Kessler: Ok, ok. Enough is enough. (beat) V’Len, we were very serious towards one another but we both had career goals and knew post graduation that those career goals and a relationship was not going to work as we might like. Jack paused and turned to face both of them. Kessler: I think maybe she should report to Greaves and let him know she is aboard. It was more of a question to change the direction of the conversation away from the two of them. Although it seemed V’Len was enjoying himself in this conversation a little more than Jack would like. Winters: Nonsense Jack. I don't have to check in with the Colonel until 2100 hours. He’s in a meeting and I certainly do not want to interrupt that. The doors of the turbolift opened. Kel: I seem to have brought us to deck 7. This is where you’ll find sickbay. Gator deck, where our marines reside, is on Deck 4. There are no actual gators of course. ::nervous chuckle:: Michele shot the Trilldorian a smile at the joke and winked as she then looked back to Jack who stood quietly, reserving his comments. Winters: Oh there are plenty of Gators on that deck Doctor. Isn’t that right Jack? Jack found himself holding back. He did not want to get into a discussion here, in front of V’Len. Although his friend would probably find it humorous as Jack never found himself on the winning end of a conversation with Michele when she put her feet down. She came from a family of very strong willed individuals and having met her brother and sister knew why she did not back down and why she was who she was. In many ways Michele was the first person that he could say he truly loved but at the same time they had an agreement about their relationship and their careers. She had clearly violated that agreement and this needed to be dealt with but again Jack did not see the need to have it discussed in front of V’Len. Kessler: ::smiling at V’Len:: And they all have teeth buddy. ::looking back to Michele:: and claws. Michele grinned knowing Jack was prodding but she too had taught him this game and was ready to play. V’Len spoke next and made a suggestion but it did not play into her next move with Jack. Kel: I mean the sickbay is just around the corner if you’re interested. Winters: ::looking back to V’Len:: I am sure I will be spending more than enough time there. How about somewhere a little more fun? Kessler: ::looking to V’Len:: Don’t look at me buddy. I’m just the bag boy today. There was really only one place V’Len could think of, but Jack seemed keen to extricate himself from the bags and Michele. V’Len decided not to allow this to happen, he wanted to see how this played out. Kel: We could grab a drink in 7-Forward. (beat) You two could get a drink in 7-Forward. oO Did he really suggest that? Oo Jack knew V’Len had to have been holding back a laugh by the look on his face as he reacted to the look coming from Jack. He should have known V’Len was going to try and enjoy as much of this as he could. Winters: Sounds perfect ::looking at Jack and then back to V’Len:: and of course you should join us. I doubt he is going to talk much right now anyways. She shot Jack a grin that told him she was very much enjoying this little torture episode and she was not lettign him off the hook. All Jack wanted to do at that moment was simply lean in and kiss her, take her off her agenda and throw a monkey wrench into her little scheme but that would be giving in to her and right now he was not too happy with her. Kessler: 7-Forward is this way ::gesturing:: I could use a drink. Jack tossed her duffle up on his shoulder and walked past both V’Len and Michele leading the way to the forward lounge and letting them follow behind. They could enjoy their teasing at his expense together. He could wait out her game, he knew he had more patience than she did plus he knew exactly how to throw her off her game once they got to 7-Forward. They ordered refreshments and found a table along the wall. V’Len took a seat facing out into the room, while Jack and Michele sat at triangle points facing the wall. Kel: So, Lt. Winters, what’s your family like? You remind me a bit of my younger sister Rosro, so I’m guessing you’re not an only child. Rosro, V’Len’s younger sister, had always been tenacious. While she hadn’t quite settled on a course of study, Rosro was taking the Academy head on. She was strong willed and firm once she set her mind on a goal, much like Michele seemed to be. At this point Michele’s goal seemed to be Jack. Winters: Two other siblings, an older brother and a younger sister. ::beat:: You learn how to defend yourself when you are the middle child. The fact that Michelle was a middle child went a long way to explain many things that V’Len had observed about her. Kel: Indeed, and where did you say you grew up? Winters: I grew up in Austin, Texas on Earth but actually spent most of my time just outside Austin on my family's horse ranch. Kessler: ::looking from Michele to V’Len:: They own and run the largest equestrian ranch in North America. It’s actually very beautiful and they have some magnificent horses. V’Len paid no attention to the answer as he suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine. Across 7-Forward, Hurricane Rox coming toward them. In her hand she held her signature “blue squale” concoction. She was walking quickly toward them wearing a broad smile. V’Len tried not to change his facial expression and reveal how much danger he and Jack could potentially be in. By his reckoning Michele and Rox were fairly similar. If they got along Jack and V’len would be in deep trouble. If they did not get along…they could mutually annihilate each other, likely taking the ship with them. Rox: Eh,what’s up Doc? V’Len looked down and rubbed his forehead. They’d talked about this so many times. Jack had not noticed Rox’s approach but the look on V’Lens face was ever so priceless. Rox had that way with many people. You either loved her or she was all over your nerves. Jack found Rox a commercial relief and enjoyed her presence although there were times, such as now, that her presence might be a little more disruptive than fun. Rox: ::patting Jack on the head:: Hey Jackie! ::looking at Winters:; Hey new girl. I’m Rox, one of the nurses. ::glancing at Jack:: Don’t let this guy take you on any dates. Last time we went out he crashed us on an alien planet and I nearly got turned into a space frog. V’Len tried not to chuckle at Jack’s very flush face. It seemed that Rox had mischaracterized whatever had happened. Kessler: ::holding up a hand:: Wait, wait, that was not a date. Winters: ::eyeing Jack suspiciously:: Really? ::she drew the word out and in a questioning tone:: Rox: :: winking at Jack:: Sure keep telling yourself that. ::pulling up a stool to sit between Jack and Michele:: So what’s your story, new girl? New member of Greave’s angels? V’Len threw a panicked glance at Jack who seemed to be like him trapped. Jack merely smiled, a devilishly wicked smile back at V’Len and sat back. Titling up his drink he took a long draw of the Samarian Sunset. Kessler: Rox ::gesturing to Michele:: this is Michele Winters. ::beat:: Michele, this is Rox, one of the ship's nurses. Winters: ::extending a hand to Rox:: Happy to meet you. I am not sure I am an angel but I am a Combat Medic so I’ll be seeing you a lot in sickbay from the sounds of it. ::she threw a wicked fun grin to Rox and then one at Jack:: Rox: How fun we can be sisters in science! ::turning to V’Len:: You’re going to outnumbered sir. Jack did not know if she should be afraid for his friend or simply happy that he did not have to spend as much time in the same room as V’Len was going to have to deal with. Kel: I was already outnumbered. ::sigh:: Kessler: ::winking at V’Len:: You could just assign them to Charlie shift. Kel: ::quietly:: Tempting. Michele smiled, pressing her lips together and without moving her torso, reached her leg out under the table and kicked Jack in the shin. She must have nailed the perfect spot as he jerked back and almost poured his drink on himself. Winters: Guys vs girls? Really, Jackie? ::she used Rox’s pet name for Jack and then looked from Jack to V’Len to rox:: So Rox, tell me about this date? ::beat:: Does he take many girls off ship to strange new worlds? Rox: ::pouting and feigning hurt:: I thought…I thought I was the only one. Jack threw both hands up and looked between the two women. Kessler: It was not a date. There were others there too. ::beat:: Not a date. Winters: ::still smirking at his sudden defense:: What’s wrong Jack? She looks and sounds like your type. Now she was just baiting him and Jack threw a look to V’Len that might have very well yelled run. Michele and Rox were more likely to hit it off and be friends than mortal enemies which for Jack could have been useful. Rox for her part very much liked Michele. She stood up and waved wildly at Koryan to get his attention. She pointed at her half empty glass and then made a “V” with her fingers. Rox: You have to try one of these, they're my favorite. Kel: :: looking at Jack, concerned:: I think we have a problem. Kessler: ::looking at V'Len and shaking his head:: I think we’re both outnumbered. Winters: ::smiling and then drinking down the last swallow off her glass of Oberon:: Of course you are and the sooner you surrender, the easier your lives will be. ::leaning back in her chair and looking out the forward windows at the planet below:: Do they have horses down there? Kel: I’m not sure, I just went down to the mountains to practice a hobby of mine. Rox: What hobby? You don’t have any hobbies, unless you were collecting fungus. V’Len decided not to respond and was grateful when Jack spoke up. Kessler: After my last excursion ::beat:: I am not leaving the ship anytime soon. The last trip off the ship had seen Rox almost turned into a rainbow colored oompa loompa, accompanied by dart slinging primates and a temporal something or other that he still had not figured out was more than enough to keep him aboard the ship for a while. Michele on the other hand was still playing with Jack and now that Rox was here, the two of them seemed all too willing to tag team on both him and V’Len. Winters: ::to Rox while grinning at V’Len:: So does the Doctor here and Jack have their own boys club? Seems like they are better friends than they are letting onto. The waiter arrived with two tall glasses of blue liquid, each with a small shot glass of brown liquid floating on the surface. The waiter gracefully slid the try onto the table, looked to each patron, and beat a hasty retreat. Rox: They spend a lot of time in the holodeck together. Not sure what’s going on there. Kel: ::exasperated:: We’re solving mysteries. I told you that. Winters: ::smiling and throwing looks between V’Len and Jack:: A boys holodeck mystery club, interesting. ::she drew that last word out implying suspicion:: Jack grinned at Michele and Rox. They were having fun and as much as Jack hated the idea of Michele being assigned to the ‘Oumuamua he enjoyed seeing her and seeing her happy. Kessler: ::grinning and shaking his head:: We solve mysteries, ::beat:: it’s not a mystery club. Rox: What you guys do in your freetime is none of my business. ::gesturing at the drinks:: Try this new girl. It’s my own invention, Romulan Ale, Andorian Ale and syrup of squill. The shot is Saurian brandy. I call it a blue squale with a rowboat. Winters: ::reaching for the glass:: That sounds like a fun drink. Kessler: ::looking to V’Len and simply shaking his head and smiling:: V’Len watched in fascination as both women took long drinks and then sat the glasses down on the table with a snap. Rox: Good right? You should try one V’Len. Winters: ::setting the glass down and looking at Rox, making an O expression with her lips:: That is devine. A wonderful balance too. ::looking to Jack:: Have you tried this? Kessler: No ::holding up his dram:: I like this. Michele eyed Jack and narrowed her eyebrows at him. He was someone who didn’t always like trying new things but she had broken that shell once and would break it again. Before she could start in on Jack though V’Len spoke up. Kel: I don’t drink Saurnian Brandy. Rox: That’s right, ::smiling at Michele:; There was an incident at the academy. Something with noodles right? Kel: ::moodily:: There was NO incident and we’re changing the subject. ::Turning to Jack:: That guy you brought back from your date with Rox is recovering nicely. Winters: ::smiling at Rox:: Noodles? Oh, I have to hear about this. Kessler: ::looking away from the girls:: Any new information on what happened? A mischievous smile began to fill Rox’s face. V’Len was immediately concerned. Jack noticed the look on V’Len’s face just as Rox’s voice rose up in excitement. Rox: Come with me, new girl. Jack grab her things. Rox rose and began to head out of seven forward. V’Len, feeling a bit sorry for Jack, picked up a few of Michele’s items. They were heavier than V’Len would have expected. Perhaps Michele had a brick collection she’d brought along. They made their way down the corridor and back into the turbolift, taking it down to deck 9j and cargo bay area. The group soon found themselves in a quiet area of the deck near cargo bay 3. ((Outside Cargo Bay 3, Deck 9, USS Oumuamua)) Kel: Why are we here? Rox: To make sure people remember us. Winters: This sounds fun. Michele shot a look over to Rox and then to Jack who looked a bit confused as to why they had come down to the cargo bay. Michele had no clue herself but this Rox seemed to enjoy having fun and even poking jabs at Jack and he didn’t bite back. Jack must consider her a friend since he played along with her suggestions. He had always been a good sport but some people did get on his nerves and Michele knew a couple back at the academy that had done so. Rox opened the small utility closet near the airlock and handed out the EVA suits. She began putting one on. Winters: Are we going on a walkabout? ::Michele said in her best Australian accent:: Kessler: ::smirking:: Knowing Rox, this is a costume party. Rox: ::teasingly:: Yeah, Jack, we’re getting ready for a costume party. Yes, we’re going outside. Put your suit on. Jack threw a look over to V’Len and then to Rox. It made sense now, and he allowed a smile to crease his lips. Jack had not partaken in this ritual as of yet and had actually dismissed it as something he felt he needed to do. On the other hand this would be fun but Rox was forgetting something very important. V’Len for his part was unsure what to do, but obediently followed the others. He’d not spent a lot of time in EVA situations, but he’d had the training and was confident he would not embarrass himself too badly. Kessler: ::stepping into his suite:: So Rox, how are you bypassing the security lock outs on the airlock? ::beat:: You know that the bridge will be alerted the minute you try to open those doors? Winters: ::looking at the others:: don’t look at me. I am so new here I am sure I am not even in the computer yet with access codes to open that door. Rox smacked her head in mock concern. The last time she had been here Basilla had been with her and had simply overridden the airlock controls. Michele finished securing her EVA suit and waited to secure her helmet in place as the others finished suiting up. Kel: Jack may have a point. I don't think there’s a medical override for the airlock. At least no one that doesn’t let the system know exactly who opened the door. Rox: Oh come on Jack, don’t be silly. The last time I was here Basillia used her security access to override the controls and anonymously opened the airlock. ::gesturing at the door:: Show us your stuff. Jack looked at Rox and shook his head in a manner indicating she would get them busted for sure. He then looked at V’Len and shook his head again in a manner indicating that too was not going to work. Kessler: There are newer protocols in place in the internal sensors that those ideas would trigger. You might be able to get away with them a few months ago but the Colonel had these new protocols instated that prevent those bypasses. ::stepping over to the control interface and pulling the panel open, he removed two isolinear chips and rearranged them:: Now we just need to tell the bridge that this airlock is running a diagnostic mode and sensors are offline. Rox: Show off. Michele watched Jack from behind and listened to his voice. She had missed the sound of his voice more that she had realized and it was refreshing and intoxicating to hear it now, even if they were doing something against the rules. V’Len was impressed at Jack’s quick thinking. He suspected they would need to do a lot of hacking, but instead this seemed like something anyone could do. Winters: How are you going to do that without tipping your hand to the bridge crew? Jack glanced back to Michele and then to the others and smiled. Rox: Who cares as long as he gets it open. Kel: What are we doing once we’re outside again? Kessler: ::tapping a few sequences into the interface:: Like this. Jack tapped the last sequence in and the lights in the room turned red and the “Secured” message that appeared on the control interface disappeared. Smiling and knowing he was not going to give up his secret he lifted his helmet and slid it on over his head and locked it in place. As the others did the same he opened the weapons locker and retrieved and phaser and handed it to Rox. Kessler: I’m assuming you’ll need this to accomplish this next task? ::winking at Rox:: Winters: ::securing her helmet:: Are we going to shoot something? Rox snatched the phaser out of Jack’s hand and brought the visor of her helmet down with a snap. She marched into the airlock and looked back to see that the other followed. Rox: Let’s go people. Michelle, you’re going to love this. The airlock cycle was not slow, but it still took a bit and V’Len found his mind wandering. When Rox mentioned Michele’s name it triggered something inside his mind. Kel: ::singing:: Michelle, ma belle, Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble, Très bien ensemble. Winter: ::smiling at V’Len and then looking to Jack:: You never sang to me. I think I like this guy. Kessler: Then consider yourself fortunate. Jack was not a person who could carry a tune to save his life and he would not subjugate anyone to that level of torture unless absolutely necessary or insanely intoxicated, which had only happened once. Rox: ::stomping a foot:: V’Len cut that out! V’Len stopped singing immediately. He’d not even noticed that he started, but it was a habit that particularly annoyed Rox. Rox: ::Looking at Michele:: He does that all the time in Sickbay. He thinks he was a musician in a past life. Kel: I WAS a musician in a past life. Remember, ::pointing to his head:: symbiote. Winters: ::looking to V’Len:: That has to be amazing ::Beat:: I mean being able to experience all of those life times. The memories must be incredible. Kessler: ::chuckling:: Were you a detective in one of those past lives? Maybe from Toronto? The airlock cycle could not conclude fast enough and when it finally did Rox hurried out onto the underside of the saucer. Above them, or maybe below, the planet of Sexyatol glowed as the sunset fell on the area below them. Toward the northern part of the hemisphere it appeared that a storm was imminent. Arching lighting could be seen flashing between black clouds. Kel: ::looking up at the sunset and the storm:: That’s something we don’t see everyday. Jack looked away from V’Len and lost his train of thought as he looked at the wondrous sight before them. Kessler: Sure isn’t. ::beat:: It’s mesmerizing isn’t it? Winters: ::turning to Rox:: This was worth the trip out here for sure. This is so beautiful. The others looked up in awe but Rox headed straight for the nearby panel where she and Basillia had come previously. It appeared no one else had visited to add their name. She handed the phaser to Michele and nodded to the panel. Michele looked down and away from the wondrous sight they were viewing which she now guessed was not the reason Rox had brought them outside of the ship. A panel on the ship, worn from time and encounters the ‘Oumuamua had experienced was laden with initials inscribed by others who had come before them. Michele smiled and looked back to Rox. Rox: Ladies first. Winters: ::taking the phaser and slowly engraving her initials:: This should be a tradition on every starfleet vessel. Kessler: ::taking the phaser next, he looked to Michele and smiled:: How do you know it is not? V’Len watched as Michelle and then Jack added their initials. V’Len wondered what to write. Rox had written RQX which was a neat trick to get her last name in there. Kel would be easy enough to write, but then it wasn’t the symbiote that was here, it was him, V’Len the doctor. Maybe he should just put Doctor. Kel: My turn eh? V’Len accepted the phaser from Jack and aimed it at the hull. The V seemed o.k, writing with a phaser was tougher than he expected. He used a dot for the apostrophe for fear it would look like an ‘S’. The rest went reasonably well. Kel: Well, Let’s hope the Zet don’t fire at this exact panel in the future. Winters: Maybe this panel should be preserved during our next resupply? Kessler: ::looking at the panel and then back at the storm and the sunset over the planet:: Take it all in guys. We won’t get to see this again for a long time. Rox: Welcome aboard Michele. You’ve got 2 down on your Oumuamau bingo card and you’ve only been here 2 hours. ****** Lieutenant V’Len Kel Chief Medical Officer USS Oumuamua NCC-81226 T239811VK2 He/Him (character and player) & Rox Nurse USS Oumuamua NCC-81226 T239811VK2 He/Him (player) She/Her (character) & Lt.jg Jack Kessler Asst. Chief Tactical Officer USS ‘Oumuamua T239901JK1 & 1st. Lt. Michele Winters Combat Medic USS 'Oumuamua T239901JK1

Hey, that's Alora's line!

Mostly.

Welcome to Starfleet!

If she's not, she's dumb. Fungus is cool!

Interesting juxtaposition of emotions there.

So she thinks.

I just loved this imagery!

Welcome to the madhouse! Glad to have you!

((Circular enclosed courtyard with benches and a small water fountain at the center – Shi’Kahr District)) Sera had found herself wandering after the New Year’s party on the SS Belladonna had wound to a close. She wasn’t quite certain how exactly she found this small courtyard in the Shi’Kahr district, which was quite a ways from her quarters. However, the feeling of it reminded her of home, and she took a seat at one of the benches spaced equidistantly apart surrounding the bubbling fountain in a perfect circle. She stared at nothing really, though her eyes were generally fixed on the flowing water. The chocolate had not been one of her more logical…or perhaps intelligent decisions, as the euphoric effects were wearing off and she was left with a sense of profound…emptiness. Sherlock had spent half the party explaining Terran traditions regarding this particular celebration, and Sera soaked it in – finding some of the customs most interesting, if inexplicable. However, part of learning was comparing past experiences or knowledge to find a meaningful way to categorize the new information, and pulling up knowledge of her life on Vulcan, in this current state…well it made her feel things. Isolation…loneliness…longing…grief. They were old friends, in a way, following her since leaving home and entering a new life as an academy cadet…and they were still here. Oh, she had become quite proficient at subsuming them, locking them away in a box that was conveniently shoved into a mental closet marked, “OFF LIMITS – DO NOT OPEN.” Nonetheless, here they were, in the forefront of her mind, filling her soul with something that caused discomfort behind her breastbone, a dull pain that made each breath a miserable chore. A rustling of clothing jolted her from her musings, and Sera reached up and wiped at her face, unsure of why it was wet. Nalaat: ::In a crisply accented Vulcan that spoke of growing up in Gol:: It is quite late to sit in such contemplation... Sera’s head whipped to the voice, and she caught herself with her hand on the bench seat as the motion held a little too much momentum. She looked up to see an adult Vulcan male, with slight salting of his hair around his brow line, wearing robes of an indeterminate color…it was quite late, wasn’t it? Sera: It…the courtyard is quite placid at this hour. Nalaat motioned with his hand, asking permission to sit, and Sera nodded once, giving assent, and he settled a respectful distance from her on the stone slab. Nalaat: I have never seen you here before, miss… Sera: ::sighing in a very un-Vulcan-like manner:: S’Ers-a Nalaat: Ah…S’Ers-a. Your accent, it is quite unique. I have never heard one like it. Sera looked down to her hands which were gripped tightly together in her lap. Her anxiety speaking with one of her own was visible in the whitening of her knuckles, and she forced them to relax. Sera: I was born in Jia'anKahr. She turned her gaze from her hands to the profile of the stranger sitting next to her and waited. Nalaat: That is far south. Very remote if I recall my geography correctly. Sera blew air out of her nose at his self-deprecating statement. Of course, he would recall it correctly – every Vulcan had been taught about the Lyr’Taya region…and what peoples hailed from it. Sera: A different world, one might say… ::wincing, knowing that the use of idioms would not serve her here:: The man tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating what she said. Or perhaps he was thinking of a scathing remark to be delivered in a quintessential Vulcan manner that would cut her deeply, but only if she admitted she had such feelings, which tonight at least, she didn’t have the control to deny herself that. Sera: For the sake of efficiency, I am m’Lyr’Zor. oO There. That should end whatever this is… Oo The man turned to look at her fully and raised a brow. Nalaat: Stating that your home is in Lyr’Taya all but guaranteed that. ::regarding her in a manner that indicated that he too was thinking of how to be efficient:: Do you believe I am…scandalized, knowing this? Sera gaped at him, and as her face felt utterly bizarre, perhaps she actually was physically expressing her incredulity. Sera: Every Vulcan I have ever told has never…not been. Nalaat nodded considering. Nalaat: As you are here, on a Federation installation, in a simulated Vulcan portico, very far from Jia'anKahr, I will postulate you have not chosen a profession that feeds into the rumors and innuendos regarding your clan’s unsavory dealings. Sera ducked her head in an attempt to hide the single laugh at his rather 'diplomatic' observation. Sera: That is quite astute of you...? She studied him, waiting for the inevitable rebuffment that she had experienced outside of her clan's landholdings. Nalaat: Very well, S’Ers-a M’Lyr’Zor. I am Nalaat M’Hgrtcha. Are you new to the district? Sera breathed out slowly, regaining some semblance of control before answering him. Sera: No. My quarters are…some distance from here. Nalaat: Starfleet then. It is hard to determine such things when one is not wearing their uniform. She ducked her head in response to his humor. He was not incorrect…it was hard to tell when one was wearing a netting dress that was decidedly un-Vulcan. Nalaat: And your mate? Is he here with you? Nalaat: And your mate? Is he here with you? Sera started at his question, her mind immediately going back to the memories of…him. It was suddenly as if she were drowning all over again. The discomfort within her chest exploded into burning pressure, and she felt as if she couldn't get air into her lungs. Her hands grasped the edge of the stone bench the edge of the rough stone bit into her palm, pulling her out of the panicked state she had started to fall into. Nalaat saw the change come over her and realized he had made a grievous error. This young woman appeared to be undone, her shoulders and arms trembling as her breath echoed in a harsh whisper. His initial response was to turn away, to allow her a moment to regain her composure in an obvious lapse of emotional control…but…from what she had just shared with him, he considered doing so would show an unforgiveable indifference to her suffering. Reaching out he placed his hands atop her trembling one and sent calmness through the link that opened between them. He was most careful to not take anything from her, and this was an easy thing given the years of training he had in the mind arts as a Priest of Amonak. He remained by her side, stoically composed as he waited patiently for the woman to regain herself. She felt the calmness being projected to her and she focused desperately on that, forcing her breaths to slow and the frantic thrumming of her heart to ease. She dropped her head and shut her eyes, ashamed of her actions before a stranger, and a Vulcan no less. Nalaat: There is no shame, S’Ers-a-kam. <<Kam denotes affection/caring>> My question was obviously indelicate. I ask your forgiveness. Sera sat, unmoving for a moment, but she was not ignoring Nalaat…she was simply trying to find the courage to face him. Sera: There is nothing to forgive, Nalaat. It is I who am… ::mouth moving but no further words coming out:: Nalaat: I grieve with thee. Sera body shuddered, as if shaking off a deep chill, and her composure had finally returned to its proper place. She delicately pulled her hand out from under his, and as soon as the movement was perceived Nalaat courteously withdrew. Sera: There is nothing to grieve. It was kal-if-fee. Nalaat reared back slightly, her statement so unexpected that he was unable to contain his surprise behind his neutral façade. oO So young! Oo Nalaat: ::switching to formal Vulcan:: Was the one thy were bonded to at Koon-ut-la such an ill-fitting mate for thee? Sera’s expression shifted to that of incredulity, but she did not turn to look at this stranger. It was a very personal question, and she should find this entire exchange unacceptable…but she had never told anyone…and no one had ever asked…and now here she sat on a stone bench, next to…::studying the sigils on his robes::…a Priest of Amonak? Sera: ::hesitant:: My clan…adheres to older ways. I informed of my family’s choice with only a short time to prepare. Nalaat could only shake his head in disbelief. His estimation of Sera increased greatly. Nalaat: And you managed to procure a champion for thee in such short time? Sera exhaled through her nose at his statement. A champion…if only. Sera: I was my own champion. I fought for my life and bought my freedom by his death. It was a pyrrhic victory. Nalaat: ::raising a brow:: In what way? Thy call it a pyrrhic victory – costly, yes, but did thee believe the loss incurred was not worth any gain? Sera finally risked looking at him and raised a brow weakly in question. Sera: ::softly:: I could not…go through with it, so he had to die?…and for what…to find myself here, having made irrational choices, intoxicated to the point of inability to control my emotions…telling a stranger my deepest shame…::shoulders slumping:: …T'nash-veh kashek nam-tor sa'awek - tra' nam-tor rim ik thresh ish-veh. Nalaat studied her defeated form – seeing her lapse in control as a physical symptom of psychological pain. Isolation was detrimental environment for a Vulcan. To be physically alone was one thing – but to be telepathically alone? Vulcans required bonds to maintain stability. Bonds with family, bonds with associates – or friends, bonds with mates…It was never spoken about because it simply…was. They were touch telepaths, yes…but close contact with other Vulcans formed subtle links – that were often strengthened through melds that occurred – when the situation appropriate. If she was here, unbonded – with no meaningful connections with anyone else…why, it was amazing she had maintained stability as long as she had. Nalaat: ::in a fatherly tone:: when have you last shared thoughts, S’Ers’a-kam? Sera: ::defensive:: I…melded with a half-human/half-orion woman the other day. What was this becoming…a confessional? Sera finally braved looking at his face, and his concern was expressed all over it. He was a Priest of Amonak after all…he was trained to listen and offer guidance. Normal Vulcans did this…they confided…gave trust…asked for and received assistance. It was an alien concept. Her family was calculating…cold. It was an unheard-of thing to confess such as she was to another. However, she was drunk and just couldn’t stop herself. Nalaat: For the purpose of closeness…of connection? Sera: ::gesturing with her head in a negative motion:: No. It was to educate, exchange information. Nalaat: And that inability to meld in a proper manner…? Sera:: It…pained me. Nalaat tilted his head to the side in compassion. Nalaat: S’Ers-a m’Lyr’Zor Tan-tor nash-veh nahp. <<give me your thoughts.>> ::raising his hand up and out to half the distance between them. Sera’s eyes widened and she sat up straight and then leaned her head back slightly to give him correct access to the side of her face. His warm fingertips touched her face, expertly sliding precisely over the cranial nerve pathways. Sera shivered all over uncontrollably once, and then became perfectly still. Nalaat: T’nash-veh kashek tor ish-veh kashek…T'nash-veh nahp tor nahp <<My mind to your mind…my thoughts to your thoughts>> She was always filled with astonishment to feel the breath of another’s lungs, to see herself through another’s eye, to sense that there was no beginning or no end…Sera reached back out to him, allowing him the same transcendent gift that full meld bestowed. Nalaat: …Etwel nahp nam-tor veh <<Our thoughts are one.>> Yes. This was what was missing in the meld with Shevon. Beatific. <<Small Time-skip>> Two shadowed figures remained silent and still on the stone bench for a long time. The simulated darkness began to wane, and a subtle red began to build in the ‘dark sky’ of the dome as the day cycle was initiating. Nalatt removed his hand from her face and opened his eyes. Sera, meanwhile, considered never opening her eyes as that would mean she would not have to look at the face of the one who now knew her better than anyone else she had ever known. She had never given into cowardice, and she was not about to now, so Sera opened her eyes. Nalaat: Was that acceptable, S’Ers-a-kam? Sera: ::Softly:: Yes. There was more to be said, but Sera was not ready yet. It felt as if a festering wound had been lanced open, and now the infection would have to drain out before it could be cleansed and sown shut. Nalaat nodded with a sage expression on his face. Nalaat: You may return any evening you are not on duty. I will be here. We may continue, if so desired. Sera looked about the flamelit courtyard and realized she was in a portico to the grand entrance of a temple. He was a priest of the temple…ah. Sera stood gracefully and looked down to the Priest of Amonak. She tilted her head to the side in a gesture of acknowledgement of what told her. Sera, however, did not agree to his offer. She didn’t want to promise anything – they were prisons. Nalaat saw her ‘answer’ and nodded once, standing as well. She would return when she was ready to. Nalaat: ::raising his hand in the ta’al:: Peace and long life, S’Ers-a m’Lyr’Zor. Sera: ::reciprocating in kind for the first time since leaving Vulcan to join the academy:: Live long and prosper, Nalaat M’Hgrtcha…and…I thank thee. Nalaat: Unnecessary. I come to serve. [End Scene] ***************** Lieutenant JG Sera Engineering Officer SB 118 Ops J239812S14

((Gator Deck - Deck 3 - USS ‘Oumuamua)) This past mission had affected Jack in ways he had not expected and he did not like it. The loss of the USS Caboto and his parents reported M.I.A. had stung him hard. He had let his emotions get the better of him on the bridge during the mission and as a result owed some apologies to Vomek and especially Promontory who he had snapped at during a more tense moment. Something a senior officer should never do to a junior officer and Jack deeply regretted that moment and lapse in his judgment. Jack needed to better himself, to strengthen his core mentally and to become better at handling crises on the bridge. He needed to expand his training and needed to become a better example and leader. So far, since he joined the USS Thor and now the ‘Oumuamua, the man that he needed to turn to for this help was the one man he knew had been through what Jack was going through and could lead him to being a successful officer. As such he was headed to Deck 3, the ‘Gator Deck’. This deck housed the ship's complement of Starfleet Marines and according to the ship's computer was where Lieutenant Colonel Greaves was currently at. The turbolift doors hissed open and Jack stepped out into the corridor. The last time he had been on this deck it had been bustling with activity but today the main corridor was nearly empty and Jack only saw one Marine walking his way. Kessler: Excuse me, can you point me to Colonel Greaves? Marine: (pointing down the corridor) He’s in the Armory. Kessler: (nodding) Thank you. He started down the hallway and came to the entrance to the Marine Armory. The doors hissed open and he stepped inside where there were a number of Marines along with Greaves apparently doing some type of weapons audit. The room was impressive and defensive weapons the Marines boasted were equally as impressive. Jack smiled at the thought of all these ‘cool toys’ and then realized that virtually all work in the room had come to a halt and all eyes were on him. That was just a little unnerving. Kessler: Colonel Greaves (trying to be more official) Do you have a moment sir? Wes had been holding a type III rifle upside down with his finger tracing out the serial number when the doors had opened to reveal Lieutenant JG Kessler. Of the two lance corporals with him, one held another rifle in a similar fashion while the other held a padd. It was their monthly serialized inventory, an especially important function for the armory to make sure none of their weapons had suddenly disappeared or were unexpectedly damaged. While in only required a Staff Sergeant or above to conduct the inventory, Wes liked to do it himself. It was one of the few links he still had to working shoulder to shoulder with some of the Marine Detachment. With the tactical officer standing unexpectedly in the doorway, the three Marines continued to watch the man, until he spoke. There was something in his voice, with a look on Jack’s face that said this was important. With a smooth motion Wes rotated the rifle back to it’s approriate angle and slid it back into the wall rack it came from. Greaves: Sure, (looking to the junior Marines) Go ahead and take a break. I’ll come grab you when we’re ready. The pair of junior enlisted both immediately nodded, the hint of a smirk on their faces. One which Wes chalked up to being thankful for getting out of work. With the two stepping out into the corridor Jack visibly waited until the doors to the armory whooshed closed and the two of them were alone with the weapons. Kessler: Colonel, I need your help. The Lieutenant Colonel raised an eyebrow, not sure how to take the statement, but sure that whatever Jack meant had more to do with something personal than anything in Tactical. He strode just past Jack and hit the door lock to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted. That done, he leaned against one of the closed wall racks and crossed his arms, studying the man’s face. Greaves: Of course. What can I do for you? Kessler: To be honest sir, I have a couple of requests. The first, is I would like to know if you would sponsor me to enter the Command Training Program? Jack knew Greaves had enough trust in him to make him his Acting Chief Tactical officer so hopefully the Colonel had seen or found value in Jack’s abilities. Greaves: Huh. Color me surprised. I figured it’d take you a while longer before you asked about that. Wes grinned now, though it didn’t seem like Jack was reciprocating the warm feeling. He was still deadly serious, and Wes’s grin slowly faded. His arms uncrossed and landed on his hips as his body pushed off from the wall locker so he was no longer leaning. Greaves: I think you’ve got the potential to be a solid command officer, but why so sudden… and serious? Kessler: The Caboto (beat), the UDP, the Gamma Quadrant. (double beat) I need to be more than I am. Wes thought it might be something like that, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to interpret it. Greaves: You know Jack, the CTP isn’t a joke. It’s damn hard work. Lot’s of studying and a lot of exams. Even the written ones are hard, and that’s the easiest part of the program. The practicals are even harder. When it comes to command there are no right answers. Only wrong ones. Poor marks go on your permanent record. Enough failures and you can eventually be barred from the program forever. Wes watched Jack’s face as he spoke, looking for any sign of reluctance or hesitation. Any break in his grim seriousness. Kessler: You, the Commodore, (beat) Starfleet are going to need strong command officers in this quadrant. I want to be one of those officers and I have no doubt I can do it. You won’t talk me out of it. Jack knew what the Colonel was saying was the truth. The CTP was not a joke or something to be taken lightly but the decision to join Starfleet and to get into the Academy and then graduate was equally challenging. The CTP was to Jack just the next step in the evolution of his career and this event with the UDP and the Zet had just set his mind to it all the more relentlessly. Greaves: I’m not trying to talk you out of it. I’m just making sure you know what you’re asking for. It’s not something to dive into rashly. It's not an emotional decision. Kessler: Isn’t the request to better yourself always emotional versus institutional? The Marine sighed heavily, his hands releasing from his hips. For a moment he didn’t acknowledge Jack’s comment and instead looked about the room for something. When his eyes finally fell on the padd the junior Marine had been holding, Wes moved past Jack and picked it up. The inventory was still displayed, well over 100 serial numbers in a long list with a few dozen highlighted already as accounted for. With a flick of his wrist Wes tossed the padd to Jack and didn’t wait to see if he caught it. Instead he took several steps back to the open wall locker and withdrew a phaser rifle. With another smooth motion he spun the weapon end over end until it was upside down where he could see the serial number. The PADD sailed at Jack and thankfully with as much luck in the catch, the PADD did not hit the floor. Jack spun the PADD until it was oriented so he could see what he was looking at but by the time the Colonel was rattling off a serial number. Greaves: Beta-Mike-Kilo-Three-Three-Eight-Niner-Four-Seven-Zero. There was a moment of silence and Wes’s eyes moved away from the serial number to see Jack’s reaction. Jack traced his finger down the inventory list trying to orient himself to the data layout and find the serial number. As he found it he read the number aloud back to the Colonel. Kessler: Beta-Mike-Kilo-Three-Three-Eight-Niner-Four-Seven-Zero, confirmed. Content, Wes spun the weapon back and slotted it into the wall locker, withdrawing the next one and repeating the movements. Jack tapped the confirmed button indicating the weapon had been visually accounted for and as he did Greaves rattled off another number. Greaves: Beta-Mike-Kilo-Three-Five-Eight-Six-One-Seven-Two. (Pause) What’s this really about Jack? Why do you want this so badly, and right now? Kessler: (locating the weapon on the data line) Beta-Mike-Kilo-Three-Five-Eight-Six-One-Seven-Two, confirmed. The two prong question was expected and Jack turned the PADD on it’s side and stepped closer to Greaves. Kessler: I’ve always known I would want to command (beat). I thought I had prepared myself to start that process but this last mission showed me how unprepared I am. Jack stepped around the room for a moment looking away from Greaves to the other weapons lockers and then turned back to the Colonel. Kessler: The loss of the Caboto and her crew affected me in a way that it affected how I reacted with two junior officers on the bridge. I snapped at Ensign Promontory, I almost snapped at V’Airu and I showed them that I was not in control. The Marine nodded, withdrawing another weapon after a moment of silence. Greaves: As for as screw ups go, that’s pretty minor. Kessler: I understand that but I was the second senior officer on the bridge and I failed to give the proper presentation for those junior officers. The CTP can give me that training to be the command influence that you and the Commodore need me to really be (beat) to be the officer I want to be. Jack paused and watched the Colonel. He hoped Greaves could understand where he was coming from and if he did not want to sponsor him, he at least hoped the Colonel would give him the guidance that he needed to better himself in front of the junior officers in a crisis moment. The older man sighed once again and slid the phaser rifle back into the rack, turning to face Jack once again. Greaves: I don’t know if you knew this or not, but I was enlisted before I became an officer, still a Marine though. Kessler: (shaking his head slightly) I was not aware of that. Greaves: My first real time leading folks during an actual mission was back then. I was younger than you are now, just a new Corporal. We were raiding a pirate hideout and I was a team leader. The details aren’t really important. What’s important was a decision I had to make. As a leader. As a Marine. Wes crossed his arms again and leaned against the wall locker door, studying Jack’s face. The memory of the raid wasn’t a pleasant one. Even a year or two ago he probably wouldn’t have been comfortable talking about it at all. Moving on from it was a part of his own command training, although not formally or even as he understood it at the time. Greaves: A couple of pirates surprised my team. Pinned us down and tossed a photon grenade into the middle of our group. We’ve all seen the holovids where the hero jumps on the grenade, right? That’s not just in the vids. Back at The Basic School, walls are lined with pictures of the heroes who did just that. Jack’s breathing unknowingly started to slow as he thought about the implications of giving your life to protect those of your teams. Kessler: (softly) You didn’t jump on it? Greaves: Nope. Arguably should have. I was in charge. They were my troops I was leading. I was responsible for their lives. It was the right thing to do… but I didn’t. I chose another option. I kicked the grenade down the hallway back at the bastards. Ok, split second decision. Jack could see the tactical advantage of sending the enemy's weapon hurtling back down the hallway at them. Kessler: So you used their weapon against them? Greaves: Tried to. Remember when I just said in command, there’s no right answers, just wrong ones? Kessler: (puzzled) That was a wrong decision? Jack didn’t understand how that played into the wrong decision category. Greaves had protected his men and used the enemy’s weapon against them. Shouldn’t that have been the right decision? Greaves: I’m still not sure if that was a wrong decision or not. See, this was an asteroid hideout we were on. On the surface. I could see the stars through the windows in the corridor. Turns out those windows don’t react too well to explosions. Especially from the inside. I kicked that grenade right next to the window. The visual of what that meant slammed into Jack’s head and resulting chaos that must have ensued after the explosion would have been bad, very bad. But the Colonel was here so somehow he managed to survive the ordeal. Jack paused and looked at Greaves trying to read the emotions carried in the Marine’s eyes. Kessler: You made it out but not all of your men did? Greaves: Pretty much. One of my Marines got sucked out during the decompression. Jack thought about the decision and the results. In his mind the decision was a two-edged sword. One way someone died instantly, the second option had a variable to it that was unseen. Did that make it a wrong decision? Jack personally did not think so but he could see how the families of the fallen might and thus the mental question Greaves carried about the choice he made. Kessler: You are here, you brought the rest of your men home and how many Marines have come home because you are here? Because you made a decision in a split second that would have resulted in death one way or another? I don’t see that as a wrong decision, just a bad kick. Jack smiled lightly trying to relieve the tension of the thought of death that hung in the room. Greaves: True, and I’ve come to terms with that. My point is it took me a long time to move past that decision. What I realized through that process is we do the best with what we have at the time. When a crisis confronts us, we react with who we are, not who we want to be. As long as we aren’t negligent or immoral, we learn from our wrong decisions and move on. Jack watched Greaves as he spoke. Although younger, Greaves spoke much like Jack’s father with regards to command, actions and consequences. There were subtle differences of course but the experience of time and command gave Greaves the same strong foundation that Jack saw his father stand on and give advice from. Kessler: Then I need to better who I am at handling my responses when someone touches a nerve. I need to better my understanding of how to handle those instances so I do not have that emotional mistake again. Greaves: You say that on this mission you made emotional mistakes. I say you reacted well in line with what I’d expect of someone with your grade and level of experience. Arguably better in fact given how personal the stakes were. Listening to Greaves Jack did not feel the Marine would say something like this just to help lift his spirits. Greaves struck Jack as a no hold back Marine who offered praise or compliment only when it was earned so having Greaves voice this made Jack feel better about his performance and a little less like he had made the wrong moves on the bridge. Kessler: Thank you Colonel. That means a great deal coming from you. Greaves: Take it from someone who spent too long focused on the past. If you’re looking to enter the CTP because you’re focused on past mistakes, you’re doing it for the wrong reasons. Command of his own ship had been a dream of Jack’s since he first sat foot on a Starship. He remembered the first ship his father was assigned to; well not the class of ship or what it looked like from the outside. From the inside it had a draw to it that for a kid was a magical feeling. The ship had a hum, a very soft hum in the walls. Windows as tall as young Jack was allowed his larger than life imagination to stare out into the universe where his own childhood missions were carried out. Jack was not focused on past mistakes as much as he was focused on not making the same ones again. He could better himself without the CTP but his road to the command chair had been laid out in front of him years before. Kessler: My father told me once he wanted me to be whatever I wanted to be. I told him that I wanted to command my own ship. (beat) I was little at the time and he smiled and said, well, you have a long time to make up your mind. (double beat) I’ve never wanted to be anything other than a starship Captain and now seeing what we face here in the Gamma Quadrant, I know this is the right choice. One day you and I, we won’t be defending Starfleet side-by-side on the same bridge. We will be standing on our own ship's bridge defending the Federation's ideals and policies. My decision just became more clear on this mission. Wes nodded along as Jack spoke. He could see the resolution in the man’s eyes. There was passion and history behind the story. Greaves: Okay, that’s a start then. Good. Kessler: So then let me prove my determination and drive to you. (beat) The ‘Oumuamua is currently without a Security Chief. Give me the Asst. Chief of Security role on top of my Asst. Chief of Tactical responsibilities. I will head up both departments until we get a Chief of Security. Until then, that will help me in leadership of multiple departments. The Marine broke into a wide grin at the audacious request. It was a bold move and he respected the play, in more ways than one. Still, that wasn’t his decision to make. It was the Commodore’s. Greaves: (Lightheartedly) Whoa, slow it down. I’ll bring it up to the commodore at the next personnel meeting, but it’s not something you need to prove. You're already leading Tactical. Let’s start with the first module of the CTP instead and we can touch base again after you complete that. Maybe you’ll decide it's still too early for you, or maybe you won’t. As long as you finish the module there’s no harm in it. Kessler: (Allowing a slight smile to crease his lips) Fair enough. I can do that. He nodded, the Marine’s voice growing more serious for a moment. Greaves: Expect me to be a tough tutor. Don’t gaff off your studies. You’ll need it. Jack allowed his slight smile to grow into a larger grin and nodded to the Colonel. Kessler: I wouldn’t have it any other way sir. Jack was still not happy with the way he had performed on the bridge in front of the junior officers but that was in the past and he was looking forward, looking to what he really wanted and what would benefit him the most. His goal was clearer now than it had been and with Greaves at the helm of his training he knew that he would succeed, there was no question in his mind. Kessler: On a personal note. I will be switching quarters to a set of family quarters on Deck 4 to help accommodate Krystal until my parents can be found. I do not see any reason to send her back to Earth where she has no family. I want you to be assured though that having her aboard will not interfere with my duties or training. Wes turned his back once again to the young officer and drew a rifle from the rack once again and resumed the inventory as he listened. As Jack’s comment turned toward reassurance rather than simply a statement, the Colonel looked over his shoulder with a slightly amused look. Greaves: We’ll see about that. I’m sure you’ll do your best though. How’re you handling the revelation? It’s not everyday you find out you have a teenage sibling. Jack took a slightly deeper breath than he had been. This entire ordeal had been so unexpected that he had not really given himself time to process all of it. He had immediately gone into being in ‘family mode’ and everything had been moving since then pretty fast. Kessler: It’s a little weird finding out your parents adopted a child without telling you, but at the same time; knowing what I do now. It does not surprise me. (beat) My mother loves big surprises. He nodded once again. Wes had dedicated his life to the Marine Corps. Sure there had been flings along the way, but he’d never even really considered settling down. Children had been the furthest thing from his mind. He didn’t know how he’d feel if suddenly he were faced with the prospects of taking care of a teenager. Phaser rifle still in hand Wes turned back to face Jack again. Greaves: I’d like to say I can imagine… but I don’t know if I can. Adjusting is probably tough for her too. Kessler: (smiling with a slight chuckle) You’ll have to meet her. She’s a bright kid. This time Wes openly chuckled at the comment. His mind went back to the station and the slave market that Krystal had been sprung from. Then he thought to the arboretum when he’d questioned the kids for more information on the station’s security in preparation for the raid. He was well aware of what Krystal was capable of. Greaves: She’s a tough kid too. Bright like you said, but resourceful and tough. I busted her out of that slave market… or rather it’d be more accurate to say I helped V’Len do it. Kessler: (grinning broadly) I’m sure he gave you a choice. Jack knew full well that if V’Len decided to do something his mind was set and there was probably very little the Colonel could have done to stop him. Wes motioned toward the rifles with his chin, the conversation now winding down to small talk. Greaves: You’re welcome to stay and help me finish the inventory, but I’d wager a bet you’ve got more interesting things to do on your shore leave. Let’s meet tomorrow morning at 0900 and I’ll get you set up with studies for the first block of the CTP. Kessler: (handing the PADD back to Greaves) I actually have a personal project in the mission pod I need to keep playing with. Thank you for your time and help Colonel. (beat, turning towards the door) I’ll send you Marines back in. Jack nodded to the Colonel and then exited the room. The doors hissing closed behind him. He paused and took a deep breath. The first step in his journey was made and now he needed to commit to the tasks at hand. ========================= Lieutenant Colonel Wes Greaves Executive Officer Marine Detachment Commander USS Oumuamua NCC-81226 E239702WG0 & Lieutenant jg Jack Kessler Asst. Chief Tactical Officer USS Oumuamua T239901JK1 =========================

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HAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh yeah, you keep telling yourself that. Oh, I have a bridge for sale...