Alora DeVeau

Congrats and welcome! Glad to have y'all!

((Kapitol City, Sannin VII)) There was a distinctly relaxed feel in Kapitol City once the news of the destruction of Terra Prime reached the city’s wary ears. Almost celebratory – almost. But Sannin VII was a bit too jaded to celebrate the defeat of another petty tyrant at the hands of Starfleet. At least openly. That wasn’t to say that mugs were not lifted to Terra Prime’s demise and the opening back up of the tradeways. That was good news for everyone on the planet and it was worth a drink at least. Nacien Rixx, too, was pleased. The drama of the Trinity Sector had played out, with a few highlights along the way. Not in the least was the crossed paths with the time travelers, which was perhaps the catalyst for many things. The brush with the chaotic tachyon energy opened his mind for a moment to the vast realm of possibilities. Futures that could be, would be and would never be. It made him think about the future once again, instead of wallowing in the ennui of a too-long life lived in exile from his people. A life that started to see the people around him like ants in a farm that he could shape and mold for his entertainment. Which was lonely. He had long since disassociated from any meaningful relationships and taken the backseat role of a puppet master. Never really backing one side or the other, merely moving pieces to see how things played out. Sure, with each move someone was hurt. That was the way of things. When something gained, something else lost. But with a future one started to think of personal paths. And a personal path required some sort of connection to others beyond the role of the chess master. It was a terrifying thought. To become connected to someone or something again. But, as in all the things he did – it was go big or go home. And on StarBase 118, he connected, briefly, to the minds of thousands of people. A distraction. A momentary hold. And then he released them and there was chaos. And he rode the wave. It was the most invigorating thing he could remember doing in the past fifty years. All those minds. All those fragile little possibilities and fears and delusions of grandeur. He had expected them to be dull and laughable, and yet they were so full of fire and brightness. And for the first time he realized that these tiny little transient things were not a tiny low pinprick of light that quietly burns out of sight and mind, but instead tiny little transient bonfires, each flaring with hopes and dreams before getting snuffed out by the march of time. It was mere coincidence that me met another exile of his own species soon afterwards. But it reinforced the decision to consider if he had a path for the future, and if so what that path was. And now he craved that presence. He wasn’t ready for a connection yet. But he enjoyed the presence of someone else like him. And so he had left a suggestion, buried in their conversations to come back. He hoped she had unraveled it consciously or unconsciously. And then there she was. He could sense her as she landed and drifted his way towards her. Rixx: ~Well, as the small folks say, fancy meeting you here.~ There was a quick of humor to the thoughts. Familiar thoughts and a familiar presence, even though his appearance had changed from a rugged, muscular human freighter pilot into something that felt more natural for him. A slender man with dark hair, clean shaven, unassuming. Rixx: I wonder, did you come here for a meeting? That sounded like a typical greeting on Sannin VII. Aristren: I will leave that open for your interpretation. Interpretations were vast and varied. There was a heaviness to her thoughts. Clearly what happened on Miranda VII was dangerous. Nacien Rixx had, for a long time, not given much thought to danger. Because he hadn’t given any thought to the future. He had an exceedingly long life, doomed to spend it all cut off from his homeworld and everything he desired. So each new day was just another mark in the endless slog of time. But now that he was starting to think about the future, the concept of danger became more tangible. Rixx: That is always a dangerous prospect. Never let someone else define your actions for you. His dark eyes twinkled a little. Aristren: Perhaps these are my investigative skills. Perhaps it is fate. I am certain it is not the former, so it must be the latter. Fate. A concept Rixx had put very little stock into in the last few hundred years. He believed that his own hand could control worlds – and if applied right it could. But that was a rather selfish point of view that did not take in any sort of wider scope. There were always things that happened outside of one’s machinations or control. Rixx: Perhaps it is a bit of both. Aristren: ? He looked around the busy square – he was sure she could sense the relaxation of the general population. The almost but not quite celebratory nature of the day, the genial feelings resting under the placid pink sky. Rixx: It is hot, you look parched. Perhaps you will join me for a beverage? Or perhaps to go somewhere quieter. With fewer eyes. Aristren: ? Rixx: I do know a place. He started through the crowds, past the embassy district and into the commercial center that was adjacent to the embassies. It was filled with nice, quiet establishments that catered to diplomats and business people. Places where private conversations were the norm. Arsitren: ? Rixx: One of the perks of an independent trade town is that everyone wants to do business in a quiet secluded place. And the businesses want to cater to that, because latinum makes the world turn. Aristren: ? He gestured to a side street and filled in the details telepathically. There was a place that catered to sweets and teas, a place that catered to fine cocktails, a place that catered to bracing breakfast beverages and savory cakes, and a place that was eclectic and just catered to people who wanted an interesting place to be left alone. All of them had private conversation spaces. Rixx: Take your pick. Aristren: ? ~*~ tags/tbc ~*~ pNPC Nacien Alasafor Rixx Rodulan Puppeteer Unaligned

From the narration of Trovek Arys: Because nothing says romance like murder.

From the narration of Ishreth Dal: Which one is worse?

This gave me a chuckle.

Welcome! Glad to have you!

Sometimes it's not just the content, but the titles. I just really like this title and find it conjures a clear image in only two words.

Alora attends the awards in a soft grey dress with off the shoulder sleeves and an asymmetrical neckline of gathered tulle. A satiny underskirt is overlaid with an embroidered leaf motif in subtle, shimmering silver, designed by up and coming Betazoid designer, Nichal Meyrit

Very appropriate considering he's a Brikarian!

((Starboard Nacelle control, USS Oumuamua)) Once more V’Len turned to look at the PADD lying quietly on the control console. He thought once more about picking it up, throwing it into the engine nacelle and heading back down to sickbay. He took another drink instead. He had opened the bottle of Saurian Brandy that his friend Ulasso had given him as a parting gift. He took another drink and then another and lay back on the floor of the room. It was quite apart from the gentle “thrumping” of the engines. They gave an occasional hiss and V’Len had turned to look at the door each time the sound came. He expected to see Millie standing there, ready to work on the nacelle. She never was. Since the crew had returned from 2265 V’Len had been having the same trouble everywhere on the Oumuamua. When the doors to sickbay opened he expected to see Millie. When awoke, his heart sank when he found she was not lying next to him. He’d never met the woman, but somehow her memory was not going away on its own. Worse, he had started to see Millie around the ship. Usually just ahead of him and out of reach. Sometimes there was no one there at all. Other times it was simply another member of the crew. So he’d devised a plan that he hoped would help. As he sat up he felt his head swimming. He took several more drinks and regarded the bottle. It was about a quarter empty. He slapped his chest several times before finally finding his com badge Kel: =/\= V’Len to Jack =/\= The torpedo launchers on deck 17 were only accessible by ladder from deck 16 and during maintenance this room was one of the quietest Jack had found. He lay on his back underneath the port launcher. The main control housing open, exposing a myriad of isolinear chips that provide the control interface matrix to the launchers. Jack was deep in thought when his Trilldorian friend's voice broke the silence in the room. Jack nearly jumped off the floor slamming his head into the torpedo launcher. Either Jack hit his head harder than he thought or V’Len sounded funny. Kessler: =/\= V’Len, are you ok? =/\= Kel: ::slurring his words:: =/\= Jack? Hey, will you come to starboard nacelle control? I need your assistance with a (beat) thing. =/\= He closed the channel and took another drink. By the time Jack arrived the bottle was now half empty and V’Len’s face alternated between smiles and frowns in a way that must have been quite eerie to his friend. Entering the room Jack half expected to find V’Len trapped or pinned to the wall based on his request. Instead the doctor sat, or rather lay on the floor next to a console with a bottle of what Jack assumed was actual liqueur in his hands. Kessler: ::kneeling down beside V’Len:: Hey buddy, you ok? Kel: Oh no man I’m great. ::holding up the bottle:: Want some? It’s from Ulasso’s region. ::looking around:: I forgot glasses, but trust me the alcohol level in this is so high there are no germs alive. ::laughing:: Jack took the bottle and sniffed it. A smile curled Jack’s lips. oO Saurian brandy. Girls have to be involved. Oo Kessler: ::sitting the bottle aside:: Dipping into Ulasso’s private stock again? ::beat:: You were here to work right, not just drown your memories away. V’Len stuck his finger up in the air as Jack reminded him that they were not just there to drink. He slowly tried to make his way to his feet only to flop back down to the ground. He pointed to the PADD wiggling his finger up and down. Kel: That PADD has the Starfleet file on my wife. I need to know what happened to her. Jack followed the invisible path V’Len’s finger made as it pointed up to the console and to the PADD that apparently had the information V’Len did not want to face. Jack reached up slowly and took the PADD from the console and pulled it down to him and pursued the first few lines of information. Jack’s thumb depressed the screen off function and he lowered the PADD and looked back to V’Len. The Trilldorian was in no condition to deal with this information and Jack honestly was not sure he wanted to read it. V’Len was a close friend and Jack would honestly do anything for him but this mentally deeper than anything he thought V’Len had faced and the recent trip to the past had dug up some very powerful emotions. Kessler: I don’t know buddy. ::looking around the room:: Not sure this room or your condition are the best to crack this egg open in. Kel: ::waving his finger in front of him:: Nope. Nope this is the right place. Millie could never get the starboard nacelle on the Exeter to work the way she wanted it to. We spent more time in that nacelle control room than we did in our quarters. ::taking another drink:: This is where her ghost is. He placed the bottle intentionally next to him. And lay back on the deck. Kessler: ::pushing the bottle a little further out of his reach:: Now, Doc you know the ghosts you seek are not in the bottom of that. ::beat:: What do you say we head back to your quarters and we can talk there? It was a good idea, maybe he would sleep this off and Jack could reason with him when he woke up. Or then again, this guy was very stubborn. Kel: No! ::slowly getting up to a sitting position and motioning Jack closer, whispering:: The worm is asleep now. It doesn’t want to know what happened to Millie, but I do. V’Len began to chuckle. He didn’t know what was funny, but it could also have been that he was starting to cry and it just sounded like a chuckle. It was hard to say for sure. Kessler: ::putting on e hand of V’Len’s shoulder to steady him:: Which part of the symbiont doesn’t want to know. Kel: See Xam Kel doesn’t want to know the answer and no other Kel host has ever tried to look her up. I had to get tipsy just to get up here with the PADD and not throw it down the nacelle. Kessler: I really don’t think this is the best idea considering your state of mind. V’Len looked up at Jack, his brow furrowed and his eyes glazed over. Kel: I need to know what happened to her, Jack. I need closure. Good or bad. I need to know. Kessler: ::looking at the PADD and feeling a sense of loss of his own:: I understand the need for closure. I really do. Jack slid to a seated position next to V’Len, his thoughts turning to his parents. Alive or dead no one could answer. The attack on the Caboto had left so many questions and Jack had no closure when it came to his parents so he felt for his friend and knew what he himself would do to get that closure for himself. V’Len lay back down on the floor. He could feel his antenna twitching and the room around him seemed to list and spin oddly. Kel: I see her everywhere. When a door opens I see her walking into the room out of the corner of my eye. Walking down the hall I see her just ahead and I turn a corner and she’s gone. When I wake up in the morning I expect to see her there. I’m haunted, Jack. I’m a haunted house. ::snickers:: Jack patted V’Len on the chest and smiled a small sympathetic smile. He then grabbed the bottle of Saurian Brandy and took a drink. Then he lifted the PADD and keyed it on. Thumbing through the data Jack got to the incident at hand. He read the report and then re-read it again. The report was short and although an investigation was launched the data that was collected seemed miniscule to what he would have hoped to find from what he read. Kessler: ::sitting forward a little:: Are you absolutely sure you want to know? V’Len stared up at the ceiling. There were really two main outcomes that he had thought of. V’Len’s preferred outcome was that Millie met someone and found love again. Xam’s preferred outcome was that Millie locked herself away in a Vulcan monastery never to set eyes on another man again. Xam was very full of himself. Either way, V’Len felt sure that knowing what happened might help the symbiote move past their latest experience. Kel: Yeah. Yeah I wanna know. Go for it. Kessler: ::nodding slightly:: Well, you were right about where she would be. V’Len, Millie died while on duty and at her post. It appears the Exeter encountered some sort of temporal anomaly and while attempting to rectify the effects of the anomaly the ship suffered a systems malfunction. One that caused a feedback and explosion in parts of Engineering and in the nacelle control room. Millie and two other engineers died instantly. Jack looked over to V’Len who laid on the floor. Death was hard to deal with anyway you looked at it. Knowing she died doing something she loved, did that bring any closure to V’Len? Would it have brought comfort to him if he knew his parents died doing what they loved? Jack honestly could not answer that question. V’Len stomach began to churn. Millie had died? That was not an outcome he had even thought of. On the one hand it very much should have, but somehow it was unthinkable. It was like every pain receptor in his body had fired simultaneously. Kel: Dead? ::sitting up and looking at Jack through glazed eyes:: What kind of temporal anomaly? How did the explosion take place? Kessler: ::looking back at the PADD and let out a low sigh:: The investigation was closed. The cause of the explosion was deemed to have been a result of the temporal anomaly. That’s all that is here buddy. Kel: ::agitated:: Thank doesn’t make any sense she was on starbase 12 when we were in 2265. What year did the explosion take place? Kessler: ::looking at the PADD:: 2267, two years after we were there. Jack looked over at V’Len and the Trilldorian was getting worked up at the news. Obviously the alcohol was not helping the situation inside that complex skull of his. V’Len struggled to get to his feet, but failed and flopped down on the floor. Kessler: ::placing a hand on V’Lens shoulder:: Easy buddy, don’t get agitated. Of course as soon as the words came out of his mouth Jack knew that was the wrong thing to say and immediately regretted it. Kel: ::overly agitated:: Well hell yes I’m agitated. There’s no analysis of what happened,no root cause investigation? Did they find a body? For V’Len the last question would have been standard, but the thought of Millie's dead body turned his stomach again. He turned away from Jack and covered his mouth trying to keep himself from vomiting. Kessler: ::popping up onto one knee:: Hey, easy buddy. ::beat:: take a deep breath, nice and slow. The feeling of nausea had passed an V’Len began to slowly pull himself to his feet. He did not make it far before he slumped back down next to Jack. He looked over at his friend. Kel: ::sadly:: I mean I knew she’d be dead it’s been 150 years. I just didn’t think she would have been killed with no explanation. Was she actually in the Starboard nacelle when the explosion occurred? Kessler: ::leaning back against the bulkhead and in a softer voice:: Yeah ::beat:: yeah she was in the nacelle. V’Len crawled over to the bulkhead and leaned against it. Kel: ::chuckling:: Maybe you were right. Maybe this was a bad idea. Kessler: ::sitting the PADD face down on the floor:: Doesn’t matter now if it was or wasn’t. You’ve let the genie out of the bottle. ::beat:: Does it help at all? Kel: Maybe it helps to know. It’s not the good news that I wanted, but it is closure in a way. And I suppose there’s a certain symmetry to it. They both died working to carry out Starfleet’s mission, that’s something. Kessler: ::looking over to V’Len:: That’s got to be worth something. Kel: ::laughing:: You want to know another funny secret? V’Len was not sure why he could not control his laughter. He also wondered why he was bringing this up. Telling Jack about this was probably not a good idea, but V’Len was too drunk to stop. Perhaps it was the guilt he felt for breaking the rules. Kessler: ::smiling at V’Len’s uncontrolled laughter:: I love a good secret. Kel: ::laughter slowing to a giggle:: I violated the Temporal Prime directive. ::chortling:: Kessler: ::chuckling along with V’Len:: You know V’Len, that does not surprise me in the least. ::beat:: hand me that bottle. As V’Len passed Jack the Saurian Brandy, Jack thought about the past and how hard it would be not to try and manipulate it to save a loved one. He would not have blamed V’Len for trying as he was sure he probably would have to save his parents. It would have been wrong and against protocols and directives but how could you not try. The will power involved in that instance is huge and Jack did not think he could have stopped from doing the samething his friend most likely did. Jack took a drink of the brandy and handed the bottle over to V’Len who certainly didn’t need it but now was the time to drown out the nerves of pain. Kessler: What did you do? Call her? Kel: ::looking off dreamily:: Wouldn't that have been great? Something inside Kel was elated with the idea of hearing MIllie say just one word. Kel: Sadly no. Something much more…cringy. I found a guitar and recorded her a song. A song we danced to on our wedding day. Then I sent it off. Kessler: Well, that I would probably have done too. Since you did not actually talk to her ::smirking at the thought:: I’d say you bent the Temporal directive. ::beat:: to be honest, based on what you have told me. I would have done the same thing. Kel: Let’s hope TI doesn't come to ask about it . ::snickering:: Kessler: ::taking the bottle back and taking another drink:: Love will make you do all kinds of things. Good or bad. Jack thought about Michele and his parents. He would certainly do anything to protect them but he had other people on his mind too. One in particular that he was not going to name in front of V’Len. That had already proven a complicated situation for them both. V’Len sat for a moment. He took the bottle from between him and Jack, took a drink and then replaced it between the pair. Kel: Hey Jack. Since I’m drunk and everything? What is the story with you and Michelle? Kessler: There’s no story. Kel: Oh come on. I’m so lit I won’t remember tomorrow. I told you about my ex. Kessler: We dated at the academy. Upon graduation we went our separate ways. Kel: Well she seems very into you. You must have history if not current events. Come on unburden yourself. They did have history. Actually more of a complicated history and one that Jack had not talked to anyone really about. V’Len was his closest friend on the ship and Jack trusted him not to say anything even if he was able to remember it in the morning. Maybe this was a good time to face up to his internal struggles with this situation. At least the Saurian brandy made it easier to face. Kessler: ::leaning back against the wall:: We do have a history. I asked her to marry me during our final year at the academy. I was head of heels for her but she had the more sensible head on her shoulders. She knew that would affect both of our plans. I wanted to command a ship and she wanted to go into medicine. Marriage would have seriously complicated things for us both right out of the academy. Wow that was history. V’Len picked up the bottle and handed it to Jack. It was challenging to think what to say. In some ways it struck him much like the story of Captain Riker and Troi. They had separated to pursue careers only to find themselves back together on the Enterprise D. Jack paused and accepted the bottle from V’Len and took a drink of it. Kel: So you chose not to go through with it. You might have been posted to the same vessel. Kessler: We knew that on the same posting we would not be able to focus on our careers. I loved her and she loves me but we agreed to achieve our goals first and then see where things took us. We made a promise not to get posted to the same assignment so that we would not interfere with each other's goals. V’Len let the idea sink in. It was an interesting arrangement, and it made a certain degree of sense. For his part V’Len only had the experience of his past hosts when it came to marriage. Xam and Millie had a bond that would not be put aside for anything, including time it seemed. Yllom Kel was different. She was a painter and she and her poet husband spent years apart promoting their own work. Her’s was an almost Denobulan style relationship. Eventually they had settled down together and had a small family, but their passions always came first. Artists. Kel: So what does it mean that she’s back? V’Len took another drink and again replaced the bottle. Kessler: Let’s just say her being here complicates things a bit for me. Jack’s mind darted to Nesre and his growing feelings for her but he also knew V’Len had feelings for the councilor and did not want to cause anything that would get between his friendship with V’Len. Things felt too complicated already with Michele being aboard and Jack really did not know what to do with it all. Complicated. That was certainly one word to describe Lt. Winters. She was an excellent medic and had been instrumental in helping him keep up in sickbay. She and Rox seemed equally mischievous. He hoped they never had a drink together. Kel: So what do you think? Could you see yourself spending your life with her? Jack looked over at V’Len. The soberness of the question made Jack think the Trilldorian was not as drunk as he thought but then one good look at the doctor said otherwise. It was a great question and a year and a half earlier Jack would have had a resounding ‘yes’ to that question without hesitation. He still had feelings for her but so many things had happened in the past year and a half that had changed Jack. If he were to be honest with himself then the answer was yes but he was developing feelings for Nesre as well. He shook his head slightly trying to figure his own mental state out. Kessler: ::letting out a soft sigh:: I could, I just have stumbled into something different here on the ‘Oumuamua that I was not expecting. For his part V’Len could think of only a few people he would consider spending the rest of his entire life with. The first to come to mind was Nesre. She was always pleasant to be around whether eating, talking or walking. Heck even when she was stopping him from taking over a starship she was a delight. Rox came to mind too. Outside of work they didn’t do a lot together, but they had a great working relationship and she was always pleasant to be around despite her antics. Kel: Based on my previous host’s experience, marriage is great. For my part I think I’d risk it. Kessler: My parents have a great relationship and marriage for them has been a strong bond. It’s a tough commitment and I don’t want to hurt her or anyone else. Kel: I mean there’s always some risk of getting hurt, but my Trill and Andorian parents were all very committed to each other. Stuff came up and they worked it out. Kessler: I just don’t know what to do at this point. Michele is a perfect match for me in many ways and my mother loves her but in the time I have been here I have feelings growing for another and that complicates things. V’Len picked up the bottle. The volume remaining was low so he tried not to take too much. He had had plenty. He passed the bottle over to Jack. Taking the bottle, Jack raised it to his lips but stopped. Staring at the bulkhead opposite where they sat, Jack lowered the bottle to the deck and sat it down. Kel: We’re both thinking about Nesre right now aren’t we? Jack did not look over to V’Len. Instead he just kept a blank stare at the far wall thinking about all the pieces of this puzzle and how they all affected his mindset and his reality. Kessler: Yep ::the word escaped his mouth softly:: Kel: Valentines day was a bit of a debacle. Sorry, not sorry. Jack looked over to the man and started to chuckle. Kessler: A debacle? ::laughing:: You took off running down the corridor to beat me to her quarters. ::still chuckling:: I could barely keep up cause I was laughing so hard. Thinking back on it, the entire scene as it played out had to have been pretty funny from the point of view of a bystander. V’Len let out a hearty laugh. Kessler: ::leaning his head back on the bulkhead:: Buddy, I would not have had it anyother way. She’s incredible and I am happy you think so as well. Jack looked over at his friend and thought about what the Trilldorian had lost, found and lost again. The emotional strain and rollercoaster that he was going through had to be more than Jack could ever understand. Kel: ::chuckling:: We’re awful chummy for two guys competing for the same girl. Kessler: Look, you are the closest person to a best friend I have and I would do anything for you. ::beat, taking a long slow breath:: You need someone in your life that can give you more than a memory can. V’Len knew he was right. He glanced around the room again. It was much cleaner and more modern than the Intrepid's counterpart. He needed to stop coming here. He’d already been several times since their return to 2400 and it had to stop. Jack eyed his friend and then looked blankly back to the bulkhead. Kessler: I have things to work out with Michele and I do not want anything, especially Nesre to come between you and I. Kel: Not giving are you? Frankly Jack, I can’t imagine Nesre with a nicer fellow. ::shaking his head:: Gosh that’s weird to say. Jack smiled but shook his head from side to side. Kessler: No. I am going to back off. You go after her. Enjoy life again my friend. ::beat, thinking deeply:: I need to stay focused on my true goal and right now I am getting sidetracked. There was a rub. V’Len cared for Nesre very much and the fact was he enjoyed being her friend. What would happen if he messed up the friendship in some ham fisted attempt at romance. Could they be friends if a romance didn’t last? Worse too was the way he was concerned Nesre might see him. As a project, as a broken thing needing fixed. His transporter accident, his cardiac inducer and now his past lives. Nesre always seemed so well put together. How could he be more than a burden? Kel: ::hesitantly:: If you say so. Jack knew half of this conversation would be lost to the drunken state of his friend and come morning much of the brotherly sentiment he felt for V’Len would not translate over but it was the right thing to do. Both for V’Len and Nesre. Jack had gotten sidetracked from his mindset to become a Captain and that was not a life that was shared with family very easily. Yes, his father was a starship Captain and his mother went everywhere his posting took them and although they made it work and seemingly easily, Jack knew it was a tougher life on both. It had been the reason Jack and Michele had made the promises to each other that they had. Only now with his parents missing in action Michele had taken a new course of action to be at his side. One that Jack had found fault with but now maybe he needed to embrace the decision she had made. Kessler: ::handing the bottle to V’Len:: I mean it plus I have seen the way she looks at you. You two would be great together. Just treat her right. Kel: You have my word of course. Jack started to stand and felt the weight of the Saurian brandy hit him. oO Oh boy this is going to be fun. Oo He thought as the room started to spin. Looking down at V’Len he knew getting this guy back to his quarters was going to be a bit more work. Kessler: ::picking V’Len up to his feet:: Come buddy, to your feet and then to your quarters. You need to sleep this stuff off. V’Len stood shakily and leaned against Jack. The pair wobbled out of the control room, leaving only the silence, a PADD and an empty bottle of Saurian brandy. Lieutenant Jack Kessler Chief Tactical Officer USS Oumuamua T239901JK1 & Lieutenant V’Len Kel Chief Medical Officer USS Oumuamua NCC-81226 T239811VK2 He/Him (character and player)

Brikar and light are two words that don't really go together... Seriously though, lovely insight into the character!

Nonono, don't *invite* chaos!

Fresh!

Oh sure, put the Rahuba right in the middle of the shockwave. 😄

This made me giggle.

Welcome and welcome back!

(( OOC - We’ve done our best to be mindful of our descriptions and keeping to the PG-13 guideline, but the scene is intrinsically violent. Please be good to yourself, and if this is troubling to you, simply skip Part One!)) ((ISS Koh'la'Shamuu)) Activating the laser scalpel held to her throat was all he had to do - and after witnessing what he had done to the Ensign who had tried to come to her aid, Arys didn’t doubt for one moment that Boucher would kill her. To say that she had a plan wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t entirely correct either. Part of her was still hoping for rescue, but knowing the situation she was in, another part of her had accepted that it would be unlikely. And that allowed a certain freedom. She was still terrified, but forced herself to concentrate on what she could do right now. And, for the moment, all she could do was to get LeVesque out of here and have him help Foster and Zumagi to evacuate. Perhaps she had wanted to give them enough time to do that as she gave the computer to seal the doors to the cockpit, locking herself and Boucher inside, and wedging away from him a split second before he activated the scalpel. Yavir glared at the woman. She had tipped from annoyingly necessary to a genuine obstacle. He no longer needed her, and now she had the gall to stand in his way. He cast about, looking for a weapon with more range than a laser scalpel. Finding nothing, he tightened his grip on the medical implement and waited to see what her next move would be. Boucher: ::flinging away the fistful of hair:: What do you think is going to happen here? Trovek: I don’t know. It was a sober and genuine response. She had managed to bring the slightest bit of distance between herself and Boucher, but with the doors sealed, there was no escape. Trovek: I know what will not happen. Boucher: Oh? Trovek: You will not be able to pilot the ship. You will not be able to escape. Boucher: Do you really think I’d have you bring me here if I was incapable of handling a ship? Federation arrogance that you know best. Trovek: LeVesque locked in a course and you have no way to change that. She was guessing. She hoped that she was guessing right. Boucher: No, I’ll bypass your little override, shut off life support to the rest of the ship, purging it of all the filth hiding in the corners, then I’ll continue on my way. YOU are the only obstacle - one I plan to eliminate. Now. He lunged at her, scalpel hand leading the charge like a desperate fencing thrust. If he could end this quickly, the damage she’d done to his timeline could still be mitigated. Arys raised her arms in front of her face and upper body in a defensive gesture, and the surgical device sliced through the flesh of her forearm, leaving no blood but a gaping cut. The muscle hadn’t been completely severed, but the scalpel had performed its task admirably. Yavir wanted to take advantage of the contact and her distraction while he was close-up. His free hand shot toward her throat, grasping and lifting her momentarily from the decking. He wasn’t strong enough to keep her suspended, but he could squeeze. He pressed the button on the scalpel again, but the tiny blue light failed to ignite. Boucher: Damn. He cast the now-useless device away, making a tight fist, and buried it in her midsection with a vitriol he’d never felt before. He struck out blindly, feeling his fists make contact. At one point, a jolt of pain went through his little finger at the same time he heard a crack. He wasn’t sure if the source had been his finger or a rib. With the oxygen in her lungs slowly running out, she clawed at the hand around her throat, and when she failed to free herself from his grasp, she raked her fingernails across his face. Yavir felt a warm trickle down the side of his face. He was pretty sure she hadn’t gotten his eye, but the blood was running into it, and he couldn’t see clearly as a result. Annoyed, he shoved her hard against a jutting work surface. As she fell to her knees, he wiped furiously at his face, clearing his vision. The momentary opportunity was all she needed though. He felt her entire weight launch into his stomach as she plowed into him. The air was knocked from his lungs in an unintelligible but somehow still profane outburst. He brought his fists down on her back, hammering her shoulder blades. Then the entire room flashed bright white, went black, and then blurred to normal in an instant as her knee connected with his groin. He lost control of his limbs, falling limply to the decking. He had to keep fighting, but his body wasn’t obeying him any more. It was terrifying how satisfying that was, and how okay Arys was with the sudden shift into survival mode rather than conduct befitting a Starfleet Officer and someone who had dedicated themselves to being a healer. Her whole body hurt, and for the lack of having any kind of plan, she kicked him in the face as he began speaking. Boucher: You – What epithet he’d intended, she didn’t give him a chance to make known. Yavir felt his nose break against the toe of her boot, ending the sentence with a crunching punctuation. Trovek: SHUT UP! She hissed, just about managing to not accentuate the command with another kick. His mind was a blur of pain. The lightning emanating from between his legs, the searing pain in his face and head - they mingled with swirling emotions. He hated this half-breed woman. He hated Nyra. He loved Kat. He hated Naystrim and her sanctimonious vision. All these feelings mingled together, gnawing at him like a dog with a bone. At some point, these thoughts must have spilled from him audibly. Boucher: Nyra … Trovek: What? She didn’t know who he meant, but she knew for a fact that she wasn’t Nyra. Still, it snapped her out of her fight or flight response, and for a moment, she hesitated. Boucher: ::not hearing the question:: Nyra … Trovek: ::coldly:: No one of that name is here. His mental fog was beginning to lift. Yavir remained on the floor. It still hurt too much to move, but he was at least becoming more aware of his surroundings again. What did she say? What name? Vaguely, he heard himself say Nyra’s name. But that wasn’t her name. He’d been told her real name. His brain was still hazy, and he spoke: Boucher: Nestira Aristren. That was a whole different story. Arys knew Nestira, even if not well. She knew that the woman had been sent to Miranda VII on an undercover mission, and that she had returned only days before they had laid siege to Terra Prime. The question was… how did he know her name? Trovek: What about her? Boucher: She hurt my sister. I have to find her. Trovek: She isn’t here. And she wouldn’t hurt anyone. Because Nestira was very… gentle. Arys had a hard time imagining that she would hurt anyone - but then again, she hadn’t pictured herself hurting anyone either. Those kind of morals changed very quickly when your life was on the line. Boucher: Then you do know her. And I assure you - she did hurt my sister. Arys needed a plan. Now that her chances for survival had increased, she needed an actual plan. Some way to detain Boucher, or get Sherlock and additional security here… But he didn’t shut up and let her think, and Arys regretted instantly what she said next. Trovek: She was part of Terra Prime. She probably deserved it. It was as though the balance scales of pain had just had a black hole dropped onto one of the trays. The physical pain which held Yavir to the deck was outweighed by the resurgence and redoubling hatred toward this woman. Still, he knew he lacked the strength for another fight. A new plan began taking shape in his mind. He shifted slowly - non-threateningly - to a seated position, just a few inches closer to the shield and comms controls. Boucher: Don’t you dare talk about my sister. You know nothing of her. She didn’t deserve what Nyra- Nestira did to her. Trovek: ::hissing:: It’s always different when it's your own family, isn’t it? It didn’t matter to you when you murdered the hybrids of Utopia Colony. Have you ever seen your compound in action? Did you see what it did to the people there? She was thinking of Meryle Harris, who had watched her two hybrid children bleed out in front of her, unable to do anything about it. How ten thousand people - sisters, daughters, mothers - brothers, sons, fathers - had been killed in the most painful way imaginable. Boucher: Kat and I didn’t have anything to do with that. It was only true in the letter of the statements. He’d been a pilot, enabling those who did handle the “wet work” get to and from the targeted locations. He’d acted the pirate on several occasions, stealing supplies and ships for the cause, but he’d never killed anyone … until today. Kat had certainly never killed anyone. Her job was to save human lives, and she’d done it well. Trovek: Sure. He had to try … Boucher: I need to talk with Nestira. Can you make that happen? She had to remind herself that she was meant to de-escalate the situation. To avoid further violence and loss of life. Even when her internal voice (or external voice?) was screaming at her to bash his skull in while she still had the upper hand. But did she? Did she still have the upper hand? Something wasn’t right. Trovek: I.. can make that happen, yes. Yavir shifted his weight, inching closer to the controls panel. Speaking with Nestira would be a huge win, but he wasn’t willing to submit to capture for the sake of one conversation. He started pulling himself up, using the workstation as a ledge, and tapping a control to pull up the shield controls in the process. Still in a half crouch, he tried to look unthreatening. Boucher: I need to stand for this. Trovek: I-... That was when he leapt to his feet and once more tackled her. And Arys, caught entirely off-guard with this attack, had no means to defend herself. She was slammed against the wall and lost her footing, and she was sure that Boucher would kill her. Only that he didn’t. Yavir had hit with the outside of his shoulder, sending her careening away from the console behind her rather than tackling her into it. Boucher: You said you can get a message to Nestira? Trovek: Y-yes… Boucher/Moray: Tell her Yavir Moray is alive. Tell her I know what she did to Kat, and she will pay for it. That’s a promise. You deliver that message, and you’re worth leaving alive. He punched in a string of commands that opened up a secure communications link. Moray: =/\= Moray to the Dolorem =/\= Alvarez: =/\= Holy crap, you’re still alive!? =/\= Moray: =/\= I won’t be for much longer if you don’t get me out of here. =/\= Alvarez: =/\= One sec. ::beat:: yeah, I see you. =/\= Moray: ::to Trovek:: Deliver the message. And then he was nothing but shimmering light. Arys was alone. END(?) for Yavir Moray PNPC Lt. Trovek Arys Chief Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops J239809TA4 ~and~ MNPC Yavir Moray (aka Elias Boucher) Simmed by Hiro Jones E239510KD0

Because that's what friends do.

Congrats! And welcome!

((Somewhere deep in Miranda VII)) Dara wasn’t part of the inner circle, but she orbited closely enough so that when vital data began its inevitable journey downhill that she was one of the first to get such information. Naystrim had left the station – moving on to the next evolution in the Terra Prime movement. That was fine by her…all her experimental weapons were here primed and ready to be deployed at the opportune time…and the rumors were that Starfleet was coming. Well, let them come…they would unknowingly be walking into quite a trap. She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. After years of hiding in plain sight, studying at the most prestigious Earth institutions—her particular focii being xenogenetics and bioengineering—Dara was finally ready to make her contribution to the cause. Her entire life had been preparation for this very moment in time. She was a Paxton…the latest of an unbroken line of believers…from the very beginning. A true disciple amongst the converts…it was in her very DNA. -- The civilian crowd was growing more agitated. Food stores were exhausted, and those in attendance were forgetting they belonged to the most noble of species. Such degradation…it disgusted her how quickly her brethren could forget their inherent nobility afforded them by their very blood. Dara’s mind—conditioned since she took her first toddling steps as child—immediately placed the blame on THEM. Non-Humans. The leaders of Terra Prime stopped at nothing to provide to their followers, but at every turn they had to fight to obtain the barest of necssities. And the aliens wondered why they despised them?! If Dara had her way, aliens would soon take their rightful place…beneath the boot of Terra Prime. Gritting her teeth, Dara shoved forward through the crowd, as an area in front of her lifted their voices up in a manner that denoted surprise or perhaps fear. Voices rose as questions were peppered ahead, and Dara’s pace increased—along with the force of her movements—shoving people to the ground to get to the source of escalating unrest. Slipping under the arm of a large man who raised his fist above his head and shouted a frantic inquiry—which she didn’t even bother to listen to—Dara found herself mere inches from a blue-skinned alien with wildly gesticulating antennae. Sh'shelor: We mean no harm, we simply wish to get you to safety. Dara’s eyes widened, but she kept the look of utter contempt off her face. Sherlock: Look! There is an imminent threat to the station. And we need to begin evacuations. Her attention homed in on a dark-haired female who appeared human…but one couldn’t ever really tell with these things. However, one thing was certain, with the delta their chests it was clear that Starfleet was here. These bastards just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could they?! At every turn Terra Prime was hunted by the rabid wolves of Starfleet. Dara gritted her teeth…she had to think fast. Sh’shelor: We have food, fresh water, and medicine! The stupid Blue Skin was going to start a riot…and Dara was at ground zero. She felt the heave of the crowd as pandemonium started to break out. The three Starfleeters looked amongst each other and spoke in tones that denoted unease. The crowd could very well do her dirty work for her! She pushed her way back into the crowd, grabbing at arms, making individuals LOOK at her as she made her way against the crush. Dara: They have guns! ::grabbing another person:: They’re going to kill us all! Person by person, if she could get them to lock eyes on her, a simple statement to incite fear and panic was uttered, and she could hear increasing yelling from those she had spoken her sweet nothings to as they disseminated what they had heard. Now past the throng, Dara took off running, her destination one of the satellite hubs which she had cloned internal sensor controls. Oh, it could only passively monitor, but that suited her needs. If Starfleet was here, no doubt there would be multiple incursion points…and the sensors would tell her where each and every one of the non-human ones were. A wicked smile broke out on her face. The anticipation of finally seeing the fruition of her life’s work come to pass was almost too much to bear! Miranda VII was loaded with booby traps – this, most probably even Starfleet knew – but now there was something else…something new. A potential weapon that had no taste or smell but one helluva punchline…and Dara couldn’t wait for the opportunity to set it loose. She stopped in front of the green-limed screen and brought up the internal sensors…small dots began showing up at various points in the station. Her face bathed in the green glow; a giddy chuckle erupted from Dara’s smiling lips. Dara: “Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly… Tag/TBC ************ MSNPC Dara Paxton Xenogeneticist/Bioengineer Miranda VII Station J239712S14

She's got him pegged.