Alora DeVeau

Joke about Teller all you want, he really is an excellent XO. This conversation really resonated with me. ((XO's office, Deck 1, USS Thor)) Teller: And how do you see that sequence of events playing out if you get stabbed to death in a bar fight? Alieth: Inherently, you cannot be stabbed to death in a fistfight. Geoff's eyes narrowed slightly and his tone cooled a fraction. Teller: Hypothetically, Lieutenant. Say one of your playmates brought a knife along. Or both. You know how Klingons like their sharp objects. Geoff watched closely as she mulled it over, the small noises in the room amplified by the tension in the air. Alieth: In that case... poorly. For an instant, Teller heard the faintly musical laughter of his former CO. Geoff was entirely certain that Captain Rahman would've deeply enjoyed being a fly on the wall for this conversation. Teller: Lieutenant...the uniform that you're wearing...that we're all wearing. It means more than just a job or a career. It's a symbol, with a pedigree that goes back centuries, and it stands for values like compassion and tolerance. It stands for patience, and for empathy. In all four quadrants of this galaxy, these colors are synonymous with peaceful collaboration. And that's the uniform you were wearing while brawling in public. ::Geoff shook his head:: Is that how you want to demonstrate your respect for the uniform? Geoff leveled his gaze, from which Alieth quickly looked away. He took no pleasure in raking her over the coals, but this was an important part of his duties as sure as anything he'd done since coming aboard. Alieth shifted uncomfortably before replying. Alieth: I am uncertain about that, sir. Geoff scowled deeply. Teller: Well you had better get certain, Lieutenant, and soon, or you'll find your career options in Starfleet exceptionally limited. Alieth: It is not the first time that I have not lived up to expectations, neither in my time in Starfleet nor... outside it. Although I strive to overcome this circumstance, I may simply not be able to achieve the perfection that has been expected of me. What is, is. And maybe my ambition has blinded me from this very fact. :: She paused briefly:: As my mother often insists, I am inherently inadequate. Geoff blinked, caught flat by the unexpected insight into Alieth's mind. Even Sern, who had agreed to stay out of the matter, registered a deep shock at Alieth's words. Teller's posture finally relaxed and he slumped back in his chair as his anger mostly evaporated. Teller: Alieth...You couldn't be more wrong. This isn't about expectations, and it most certainly isn't about perfection. Long time ago, a very smart woman told me we all make mistakes. The trick was to learn from them. She felt I was someone who could. ::Geoff's attention had wandered as he reminisced but his eyes turned back towards Alieth, stern but sympathetic.:: And I feel the same way about you. Alieth: Response Teller: Now, your mistake wasn't getting into a drunken fistfight. That was A mistake, certainly, but it wasn't The Mistake. Any theories on what your mistake actually was? Geoff let the question hang in the air, allowing time for Alieth to ruminate. Alieth: Response Teller: Your mistake was listening to your mother and not to yourself. Geoff gave that a moment to settle before going on. Teller: Not a single being aboard this ship is perfect, Alieth, and I may as well be the President of that club. That doesn't make any of them inadequate any more than it makes you inadequate. Alieth: Response Teller: There's a saying some of our Marine colleagues like, and I'll admit it caught my ear - I think you could learn something from it. 'Perfect is the enemy of good.' It's a way of saying that chasing perfection can blind you to other options, other ways of succeeding. I think you're trapped in that thinking right now, Lieutenant...maybe you have been for a long time. That to be worthwhile at all, you have to be perfect. That's your mistake, Alieth. Alieth: Response Tags/TBC =============================== Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0

What??? It's true, right? He said so himself! 😄

@Wes Greaves ALMOST makes me want to become a marine. Almost. 😉 I love seeing the slice of marine life in Starfleet! ((Marine Quarterdeck, Deck 9, USS Thor)) A smile crept across Wes’s face as he surveyed the abnormally cramped quarterdeck. From the doorway of his office, he had a perfect vantage point of the detachment assembling into the room. Every single Marine had been given their assignments, and non-commissioned officers barked commands while their staff non-commissioned officers watched in satisfaction. Even the pilots and mechanics were present. Looking to his left, the detachment’s Sergeant Major gave Wes a nod, which he returned. The action triggered more shouts and the nearly 80 assembled Marines began to disperse into the halls to make their way toward the turbolifts. All of the turbolifts. ((Main Corridor, Deck 3, USS Thor)) Simultaneously, every lift on the deck opened and unleashed a torrent of Marines in matching dark green running gear. With a smooth and practiced choreography 80 men and woman of various races sprinted into three columns, nearly 30 ranks long, at the aft end of the deck. At their head stood their detachment commander. Greaves: DETACHMENT, DOUBLE TIME. 80+ Voices: MARINE CORPS! At the same instant, 80 feet slammed into the deck as the Marines began to jog together. Science officers were forced to leap and dive out of the way in some cases as the train ran past. The sound of feet hitting the deck made for a rhythmic beat and after a few moments of running, a deep voice began calling cadence. Greaves: Loooooooooow, riiiiight, laaaayoooooo. 80+ Voices: Loooooooooow, riiiiight, laaaayoooooo In unison, the detachment sang out a parroted reply. Their voices shook the doors along the corridor. Many offices and work stations opened with a hiss, heads popping out of doors to see what was going on. Greaves: Mama told Johnny not to go downtown! After each sing-song cadence call, the detachment would return the same reply in their chorus of voices, punctuated by the beat of falling footfalls. Greaves: Marine Corps recruiter was hangin’ around! Greaves: Johnny went downtown anyway! Greaves: To see what the recruiter had to say! Greaves: Recruiter asked Johnny what he wanted to be! Greaves: Johnny said I really wanna be a Marine! Greaves: Johnny caught a trip to Duronis 2! Greaves: There he fought some people called the Romulans! Greaves: Killed a hundred men with his phaser and blade! Greaves: God only knows how many lives he saved! Greavess: Looooooooooo right laaaayyyyyoooooooooo! Greaves: Johnny was bold, and he was brave! Greaves: Johnny jumped on a photon grenade! Greaves: Saved the lives of the men he led! Greaves: But poor old johnny, he was dead! Greaves: Loooooooooow, riiiiight, laaaayoooooo. The snaking mass of bodies had run the entire length of the deck and halfway back down by the end of the cadence, and with a smile Wes let out a new command. Greaves: DETACHMENT, FALL OUT! 80+ Voices: OOOORAH! 80 men and women broke off in various directions, sprinting toward the turbolifts again, Wes in hot pursuit with smile still plastered on his face. ((Main Corridor, Deck 4, USS Thor)) With an impressive choreography the Marines stormed the next deck and reformed into the running formation. Their sing-song voices again resounding through the halls to the beat of their running footfalls. Greaves: Sec’rity, Sec’rity, I'm in doubt! Greaves: Why your belly’s sticking out! Greaves: Is it beer or is it wine! Greaves: Or is it the lack of PT time! Greaves: Singing lo right lay-o! Greaves: Lefty right lay-o! Greaves: Lo right lay-o! Greaves: Left in double time! Greaves: DETACHMENT, FALL OUT! 80+ Voices: OOOORAH! Once again, the mass of bodies broke off in every direction, some Marines now opening laughing as they ran to move on to the next deck. ((Marine Quarterdeck, Deck 9, USS Thor)) Two hours and 26 kilometers later, the Marine detachment completed their run, having shouted down every major corridor in the ship, and heckled every department aboard. Back at the quarterdeck, the Marines laughed, joked, and were otherwise in high spirits, despite the demanding workout. They had made a friendly jab toward the other departments, and it had brought the detachment closer together themselves. They were finally beginning to come out of the funk of the last several months and come together as a team. Wes smiled to himself once again before disappearing into his office. ========================= First Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================

Do NOT mess with Alieth! She's no joke! LOL!

I have the strangest temptation to have someone in Sickbay start whistling Dixie.

Correct me if need be, but I think something's wrong...

Just a little.

Uh huh. Suuuuure.

I find this quote both funny and sad. Love Maxwell! ❤️

🤣

Oh poop.

I want to see this happen! We must make this happen!

But you didn't say it out LOUD!

You didn't say please!

I just adore Wyn's little snippy internal dialogue. You're a real Andorian to me! ❤️

@Ashley Yael is on a roll tonight. ((Denobula - The City of Loxt on the Uvax Continent - 22 years ago)) Ashley watched with huge amethyst eyes as his mother threw the few things they needed into the pack in a fervent rush. She made sure to pack her identification, all the vital information she would need… or for Ashley… her computer, credentials. He clutched his favorite toy, the interactive talking lemur he carried around everywhere he went… Feazel the Lemur. He’d been a huge hit with the children for years, ever since the children's holo-series had been released. Ashley: Mommy, where are we going? Doctor Yael: Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re not going far. Ashley: Are you mad at daddy? She grimaced, and didn’t know how much to tell him. He was only seven and some months… would he be able to understand? Doctor: Yael: Yes, mommy’s mad at daddy. Ashley: Is it my fault? She set her blue eyes on her son, noting his wide-eyed, alarmed gaze. Swinging the pack over her shoulder, she made her way over to him and leaned down to lift him up into her arms, hugging him tight. Doctor Yael: No. No, *none* of this is your fault. It’s *my* fault, sweetie. She never should have stayed so long. It would have never gone this far if she had just left when she first thought she should. She carried her son out the door and made her way to the nearest public transporter. Doctor Yael: Hold on to Feazel, okay? Don’t let him go. Ashley wrapped the lemur in his arm tightly against his mothers neck, rustling her long blond waves. He didn’t understand what was happening, but even still, he could sense his mothers agitation… so naturally, he was afraid. Once the transporter had carried them close to where they needed to go, Doctor Lina Yael carried her son and the pack toward her destination. He was still small for his age, but she struggled under his weight as she rushed down the street. It was no run, but the walk was fast… if she didn’t cross the doorstep in time she might not be able to stop it happening. She arrived at the gate and stepped up to the processing window at the security shack, where a Human male sat at the computer, and looked up at her arrival. She offered him her identification without hesitation. Above their heads on the stone wall was a plaque. “Earth Embassy.” It was a branch offshoot, not the full embassy, but legally speaking it was Earth soil… which meant she would have the full protection and defense of Earth law. Security: Ma’am. What can I do for you. Doctor Yael: My name is Lina Yael, I’m a dual Denobulan-Earth citizen. I need legal assistance and safe lodging for myself and my son. The man began to process her request, checking her identification. The embassy was technically sovereign soil, as per their relationship and agreement with Denobula via their treaties. The information went through quickly and he was opening the gates when a private transport slid haphazardly into a parking space, the door popping open quickly. From the transport rose Deneve Phax, his eyebrow ridges furrowed in frustration. Doctor Deneve: LINA! What are you doing?! Doctor Yael: You’re NOT cutting into my son's brain. She pushed past the gate as soon as it was wide enough for her and Ashley to slip through, shoving the pack on her back awkwardly. When she crossed the threshold a wave of relief swept through her. Ashley nearly lost his hold on Feazel as it roughly brushed against the metal gate, but he held onto him with a tiny death grip born of fear, even as the mechanical speaker was activated by the pressure. Feazel: ::with pre-recorded cheer:: “Don’t eat my kidneys! I need those!” Doctor Deneve: It’s *just* a simple surgery! It could give him *years* free of the symptoms! Doctor Yael: A bilateral brain resection is *not* simple. That procedure has a 70% failure rate and causes just as many problems as it solves, Phax. You *knew” I wouldn’t consent to it, but you scheduled it anyway. WHY? Doctor Deneve: It’s what’s best for him. Doctor Yael: You wouldn’t know what was best for your son if it smacked you upside your bloated ego. You’re only thinking about *yourself.* You’re EMBARRASSED by him. Do you think your other wives don’t tell me what you say?! The Denobulan man angrily stepped up to the open gate only to have the Human guard step in front of him before he could pass it. Still, Lina took a defensive step back, her hold on her son tightening. She heard her son whimper near her ear, so she tried to ease her grip. Security: Sorry, sir. ::holding a hand up to stop him going further:: I can’t allow you to enter Earth Embassy grounds without the proper processing or legal representation. Deneve glared at the man, but stepped back, not wanting to cause an inter-species scene. But he still addressed his wife. Doctor Deneve: You’re being irrational. I have the right to handle basic medical care for my own son, Lina. Doctor Yael: You *don’t* have the right to *butcher* him. ::she glowered at him, the love she once felt for him clearly poisoned beyond repair:: I won’t let you do it. Doctor Deneve: This is *absurd.* ::trying to calm his tone and sound reasonable:: Just… come home. We’ll make dinner. We can *talk* about this. Doctor Yael: So you can badger me until I do what you want? Or pull him out of school and do it behind my back? NO, Phax. You’re not getting your way this time. Doctor Deneve: ::his patience disappearing:: It’s the right choice, damn it! He can be more *normal*, Lina. He can be symptom free for a decade longer! More normal. The blue eyed gaze she leveled on her husband was steely and ice cold. She turned on her heels as the security guard closed the gate, locking the Denobulan man outside and leaving him to watch his wife make fast feet toward the main facility. His son's amethyst eyes, filled with tears and wide with fright, set on him from across his mothers shoulder. He was silent in confused terror by his parents yelling, Feazel the Lemur still clutched tightly in his small hand. ************************ Doctor Deneve Phax Neurosurgeon & Father & Doctor Lina Yael General Surgeon & Mother & Ashley Deneve Yael Adorable Munchkin C238211TZ0

This hit home. ((Denobula - The City of Loxt on the Uvax Continent - 22 years ago)) The hospital thrived with activity, doctors and nurses abounding, students tagging along with their mentors like so many Denobulan turtle-ducks. The teaching hospital was the largest and one of the most esteemed in the Southern Continent, and was thus never “slow.” Patients from across the quadrant came to this hospital not just for the quality of treatment they would receive, but to be a part of the constant array of clinical trials and new drug testing that occurred year round. On the 56th level of the hospital was the neurology clinic. The two large bay doors opened into the ward directly from the four crystal clear elevators, each in a clear tube with a spectacular view of the tropical environment preserved despite there being a bustling city. The greenery and nature was a Denobulan necessity… nature provided the foundation for most of their scientific advancements, and thus they respected it… lived with it, rather than cementing the lot of it. Instead, they built *upwards.* One could be pestered by the famous Denobulan lemur in the arrival lot, or even on the roof of the extremely tall building, as the exterior was also prime climbing, with effort taken by the architects to include natures needs in the designs. Patients inside the building could witness an array of small warm-blooded animals climbing past the windows or launching off the bird sills from inside their rooms. Meanwhile, all the creature comforts you could want were included inside. Denobula was so tropical, in fact, that for the very longest time there was no concept of frozen water in their scientific records. It didn’t exist naturally on Denobula, and the discovery of it only happened after refrigeration technology was created. Nestled between three lovely stars in the system, the night on Denobula lasted a scant 3 hours… save for a single day per year where the stars eclipsed and total darkness fell for the full period of a single rotation. The short night cycle might explain why Denobulans needed little more than 4 hours sleep per rotation, and supplemented it with a hibernation cycle. But on that 56th level of the tapered skyscraper, the interior was clean and white, the smell of sterilizing cleanser the only remarkable scent. Neurology patients were ushered to their appointments as they arrived by those four large elevators, into the private offices. One of those offices belonged to Doctor Deneve Phax, lead neurological specialist for the ward and a renowned surgeon who was sought out for the most complicated of cases. He was in the middle of a massive clinical trial and the next several weeks would be filled with data searching patient reactions, as well as monitoring progress of the double-blind groups… the active agent, the placebo, and the control group. The clear elevator to the far left opened and a small purple haired Denobulan-Human hybrid burst into the room and past the reception desk. Ashley: ::waving:: Hi Miss Mat’ea! Nurse Mat’ea: ::smiling at the familiar child:: Hello, Ashley. Did you get taller again? Ashley: I’m two whole centimeters taller since last time! Nurse Mat’ea: Are you sure it isn’t three? The small child pushed at the large door into the workplace, barely able to move it by himself. In reality he was small for his age, but the nurse would never say so out loud. She used one hand high above his head to help him open the door, while letting Ashley think he’d done it himself. Lagging behind the energetic seven year old was a blond Human woman, his mother. A surgeon and general practitioner in her own right, they were on the search for her husband. Nurse Mat’ea: ::smiling and nodding respectfully:: Doctor Yael. Good to see you. Lina smiled at the woman as she followed through the doorway into the workplace, following her son. He knew the way to the office space, so there was little reason to slow him down. She could hear his voice from the hallway before she arrived in the right office. Ashley: Dad! Guess how many lemurs I saw today! Doctor Deneve: I imagine it’s a lot to justify this much *noise*. The bland response didn’t diminish the child's excitement. Ashley: Seventeen lemurs! A single eyebrow rose, the harsh tone lightening up ever so slightly. Doctor Deneve: That *is* a lot of lemur. Doctor Yael: ::stepping inside the office:: Hello sweetie. Deneve nodded to his wife, having expected her to not be far behind their son. Doctor Yael: We’ve hardly seen you this week. Ashley missed you. Ashley: Daddy can I cut out a brain pleeeeeeaase? His father snorted with a well contained edge of humor, while his mother laughed lightly. Doctor Yael: He wants to be *just* like you, you know. Ashley: I’ve studied *lots!* I know what a thasalmus is now. Doctor Deneve: ::with a hint of a smile, then dryly:: Alas, none of my patients need their *thalamus* removed today. Ashley busied himself looking through the texts on a nearby shelf, but only the ones on the shelf he could reach of course. Doctor Deneve: Don’t make a mess. Lina frowned at her husband. She knew he wouldn’t be happy to be interrupted, but in truth it had been two weeks since the man had spent a spare moment at home. Denobulans were notoriously patient when it came to this sort of thing, this was true. But *she* was Human and her son half so, and they *missed* him. Deneve knew this full well, but it no longer seemed to register as something that was important… even though it had used to. In fact, she was starting to question the whole marriage. She was still trying to make it work for the sake of her son… the son the Denobulan man seemed less than interested in. She’d never imagined he would be such a *gruff* father, or so absent. Denobulans were so family oriented, after all. She’d heard the gossip in the rest of the family. Deneve’s second wife had had a frank conversation with Lina about the things he would tell her… the Denobulan woman was concerned, so shared out of that concern. She’d told Lina that he was increasingly annoyed at his Human wife’s lack of interest in having more children yet. But it was how he treated his *existing* son that stopped her doing so… she also knew what he’d said about Ashley. That their son was a genetic dead end. And she was having trouble reconciling her feelings for the man, more so every day... and if she were to have more children, there was a statistically relevant risk they would also have Theoron's Disorder. Could she have more children knowing the man wouldn't bond with them if they weren't perfect? She could feel the hypospray in her pocket. The one filled with the daily required medication her son had to take. It was handy to keep on person, in case of a worsening day or an accident that caused a surge in symptoms, but thankfully he was mostly symptom free… he’d been medicated since he was diagnosed in utero. The hypo-spray was a cruel but realistic representation of her sons limitations in life, but he was still too young to understand what it really meant… so she carried the weight for him, wanting him to have as much of an innocent childhood as she could supply for him. She never failed to smile at how many lemurs he counted through the windows. At how excited he was about *everything* he saw. At how proud he was when he learned what a “thasalmus” was. And it pained her every time he cried because he missed his father. Or told her he wanted to be just like daddy and help people's brains get better. Still, she tried to facilitate the strong familial connection, and pushed for them to spend time together. If Deneve could just take a moment and *see* his son, imagine for just a moment who he could grow to be, maybe it could still work... Because she could see the unfortunate failures where her innocent son could only see love and joy. And she was starting to wonder what Ashley would think of the frozen mountains of her home back on Earth, the glaciers and wildlife of Alaska. It was a place you either loved or hated… and it was a vast departure from the tropics of Denobula. Ashley pulled a large text off the shelf, having some trouble with the weight of the tomb before plopping down onto the floor and rifling through the book for interesting pictures. Doctor Yael: I know how *busy* you are, dear. But I hoped you could spare time for lunch with your son. Doctor Deneve: I can’t. Large amethyst eyes looked up from a book illustration of the Denobulan spinal cord. Ashley: Mommy, I’m really hungry. Doctor Yael: I know, sweetie. We’re getting lunch soon. ::pausing:: Please, Phax? The sauted lemur kidney at the cafe on the corner is to die for, and I know you haven’t had a non-replicated meal in weeks. The same lemurs climbing the walls of the hospital also happened to be a delicacy. Another reason to bolster a healthy population, as Denobulans were largely carnivorous in nature. Doctor Deneve: Hmm… ::he paused, finally tempted:: Fine. But just a quick lunch. The family stepped out of the office area and toward the crystal clear lift doors. The small purple tinted boy lifted a hand to take the hem of his fathers coat, his other hand clasped in his mothers fingers. He was ecstatic his father was coming. Ashley: Can I have lemur kidneys too? Doctor Yael: Oh? How many lemur kidneys do you think you can eat? Ashley: I can eat *five!* Doctor Yael: ::feigning shock:: Five?! That’s almost three whole lemurs worth of kidneys! Doctor Deneve: ::glancing down:: Isn’t that a rather *adult* meal for him? Doctor Yael: It’s a special treat. He’s been looking forward to seeing you. The small Denobulan-Human hybrid tugged on his fathers coat, huge amethyst eyes gazing up at the much taller Denobulan. Ashley: Daddy? How many lemur kidneys can *you* eat? Inwardly, Lina hoped Phax knew not to say any more than five, since her son would try and force them down until he matched any number his father said. Doctor Deneve: I think I might top out at four myself. Small favors, Ashley’s mother sighed in relief, smiling as they walked out into the heat. Nobody wanted a food-sickened seven year old barfing up hot lemur kidneys everywhere. ************************ Doctor Deneve Phax Neurosurgeon & Father & Doctor Lina Yael General Surgeon & Mother & Ashley Deneve Yael Adorable Munchkin C238211TZ0

Welcome to the chaos, my darling! 😘

((‘The Junction’, deck 223, Deep Space 224. The Borderlands)) The petite Vulcan doctor breathed lightly on the surface of her drink before she took a tentative sip. The thick, hot drink burst into a sugary explosion in her mouth, and then descended down her throat, warming her up like the sun of her home planet. Of course, the drink was not only comforting, but had the quality of altering the Vulcan biochemistry, which suited her after the LONG road she had needed to travel to reach the Borderlands’... border. Arguably, in the canteens at the top decks, primarily staffed by Starfleet personnel and Federation civilians, her drinking choices would have raised a few eyebrows. But down there, in a secluded corner of the lower decks, the Klingon waiter attending to the tables didn't bat an eyelid. And much less the patrons, an amalgam of unruly civilians who were largely minding their own business. Or they just slept it off in a corner, too plastered to care about anything. Alieth tucked into the dark hood that obscured her features and settled down for a second shot when a whistle distracted her. The smudged and rusty pub door swung open, and revealed an old familiar face that she had not seen for a long time. Alieth: Meimei! Sirin: Alieth ::smirking slightly:: I see you have found yet another unique place for us to meet. Alieth: I know you are fond of interesting places, therefore I have just provided you the most fascinating place that I have found. The statement was delivered in a flat, pragmatic tone, still there was a mischievous gleam in the young Vulcan's eyes and the tiniest sketch of a smile danced for an instant on her lips. Meidra nodded to the waiter, muttering her drink order in Klingon. If he was surprised, he said nothing, only growling in response before going to get her beverage. She sat across the table from her cousin, and gave the usual Vulcan greeting, and received the usual response. Sirin: It has been too long, krei. Tell me, how is life on the Thor? Are you keeping everyone logical? Alieth: Indeed just too long. And about the Thor’s crew... ::Shaking her hand gently:: It is an unachievable endeavour, most of them are just a hopeless case. Amusement flared in the counselor’s eyes as she well understood her cousin’s wry humor. She took a long drink from her flask, pondering if she could convince the waiter to refill it for her before she and her favorite krei went exploring. She put in back into a pocket and patiently waited for her actual drink to arrive. Meanwhile, the doctor took a brief sip of her drink before she answered, her eyebrows knitted over her eyes. Alieth: Otherwise things on the Thor have been reasonably calm. We took part in a coup d'état, prevented an ecological disaster and only the Captain was about to lose his life because of a hitman. Compared with our previous missions, the ship has no extra holes and, aside from Fleet Captain Kells, most of the crew is in good condition. A truly uneventful mission for Starfleet. A few months ago her answer would have been vastly different, as a connoisseur of quiet and routine as she was. Nevertheless, routine seemed to have taken on unexpected forms since she had graduated from the Academy. And she had embraced it. It was a disturbing realization. Alieth: So how was everything at the Resolution? We spoke briefly at your previous shoreleave, yet I have heard hardly anything from you since then. Meidra: This shore leave has been different from the last. I did go to a holodeck, but this time it was not to fight my grandfather’s image. I was invited to participate in a ::searching for right words:: a mystery solving game. It was entertaining. She told her cousin how Ensign Yalu had created a dead body for her amusement, and the two shared a grin. The waiter flung down her drink with an appropriate insult which Meidra matched as she slammed her fist on the table. After a moment, both she and the waiter laughed, and he gave Meidra a swift salute before leaving to serve other patrons. Alieth: That is a novelty, were you able to perform an autopsy on the victim's body? ::Alieth became silent for a short while before she answered herself. :: You know, just do not tell me and send me the program, I am sure Mister Greaves will appreciate it too. Alieth: What about your last mission? According to what I heard you were in a diplomatically delicate situation. Sirin: We were asked to intervene between a peace loving society and the Klingons. Thankfully, no blood was spilled. To be honest, I do not believe the Klingons assigned to the mission truly wanted to be there. It was most confusing in a way. ::smiles:: although our First Officer certainly put them in their place. The tiny Vulcan took another quick sip of her cocoa and leaned forward, resting elbows on her knees. The short motion prompted a maverick lock of hair slipped out of her tight ponytail, which Alieth wasted no time placing it back behind one of her pointy ears. Sirin: I have a slight appreciation for Klingons after seeing them again on our latest mission. They have a fascinating way of twisting logic to serve their agenda. ::Looks around:: I had thought you would have brought your ….what are you calling him again? Your BFF? The one trapped in a human male? The Vulcan woman almost choked on her drink as a green shade rose to her cheeks and dyed the tips of her ears. Alieth: As much as I would have appreciated the chance to introduce you to my closest friend Sern, making so bringing here that troublemaker human in whom he currently resides would have been a highly... improper situation to say the least. :: An image of her ginger superior officer flashed into her mind and Alieth hastened to take another swig to hide the expressions that crept up her face. Alieth: No, that would be actually a TERRIBLE idea. What about you? Last time we talked I thought you said you were interested in establishing a close relationship with someone, a human male? How they call it… ‘Dating him’ The small counselor rolled her eyes. Dating, for lack of a better word, was not something Meidra did. She’d had a few intense encounters before joining StarFleet, but they weren’t the type of men (or women) she’d bring to a family dinner. Aeson was a distraction from admitting that she felt something for another officer. She would never admit who it was, maybe not even to herself. She would admit to a certain loneliness at times. But she didn’t need to say it out loud. Alieth’s expression told her that much. Sirin: I’m not sure what I have to offer anyone. Hey, ni’hin person, um...jabwl’, waiter person. Another bloodwine. Then a Vulcan brandy chaser. Alieth: Another cocoa for me, black, without sugar, 50ºC. Once the burly Klingon had taken their orders (mumbling something about Vulcans who thought they knew his job better than he did), Alieth looked back to her relative's eyes. Her hieratic expression had somehow softened and her eyes gazed warmly at Meidra. Alieth: You know you have a lot to share with a bondmate Meidra, even if you try hard to hide it. You carry the best traits of our family after all. Alieth's gaze glistened with mischief a split second before she added. Alieth: This is quite an achievement for an overly emotional hybrid like yourself, if you ask me. Sirin: Yes, you make it sound logical. ::sighing:: I have not eaten since morning meal. Chasing ghosts works up an appetite. Even if they are holograms. ::looks at Alieth:: after dinner we should walk around a bit and see what this station has to offer. It’s rare to see you, we should strive to create pleasant memories. Meidra knew her tolerance for alcohol was far more than most of the clientele here. But she was a bit hungry. The Klingon waiter came back to get their food order, and place their next round of drinks on the table. Alieth: ::With a slightly tipsy voice:: All right, let's toast and have an end meal later and let find what this station has to offer us. Sirin: An appropriate plan of action, krei The minute Vulcan raised her mug, such that a few drops of thick, black liquid fell on the table. She remained in that position for a moment, while her brain struggled to find something appropriate to say Alieth: For the old friendships and those that we are building, for those we met and those we will eventually meet. And that wherever our paths take us, we will always find refuge from the sandstorms in each other. [[TBC]] OOC: krei → (vulcan) female relative descended from siblings of parents or earlier line of descent ni’hin → (Vulcan) bar, pub jabwl’ →(Vulcan) waiter ================================= Lt. JG Alieth Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: E239702A10 Image Collective Co-Facilitator Trainee ================================= & Ensign Meidra Sirin Counseling Officer USS Resolution R239707MS0

OOC: I really relished the opportunity to see more of Prudence Blackwell - and of course, Ashley. ((Starbase 118 Ops - Habitat Ring)) Ashley was making his way to the Consumer Sector for some socializing in his off time. He’d changed out of his uniform and into something sporty. Black leggings, trainers with a white slash on the sides, and a stylishly washed out gunmetal grey v-neck t-shirt with three-quarter sleeves. One didn’t need to dress to the hilt to visit Verriars Bar, after all, and it was getting somewhat late. He expected the Tongo Wheel would be spinning loud by now. Stepping onto the turbolift, he turned to face the doorway as it closed and clasped his hands behind him, as he was prone to do. Yael: Consumer District. Verriars. The electro-stabilizing gloves he wore were no longer hidden… he would normally wear full sleeves, self-consciously, but he was getting better about not worrying about it as he got used to wearing them. The turbolift stopped not far along to allow another rider on, and he momentarily set his amethyst eyes on the person who entered the lift. Rue was dressed for relaxation, frivolity, and entirely unprofessionally - but at the same point, she was still modest. She wore a long skirt made of a soft fabric, with pockets - a utility that Rue refused to go without, soft flat shoes and a long sleeved shirt. Blackwell::Rue had done some shopping herself. She didn’t attempt to accumulate material goods as a habit - but she did like meaningful things. Trinkets. And she liked to see what the different districts would bring as potential momentos from different cultures. Treasures and the like. She had found a few items - a new shawl for wearing when she was off duty, and a necklace, that she carried in a bag. She stepped into the lift and gave a genial grin:: Hello, there. Thanks for holding the lift” Yael: Good evening, Lieutenant. No problem. The Denobulan hybrid nodded politely and smiled that oh-so-cheerfull Denobulan smile at the Human who stepped onto the turbolift, and stepped slightly aside for her to board comfortably. He didn’t recognize her, but had the passing thought that the cropped haircut she sported was very flattering… and she was *shorter* than him! Almost nobody was, so he definitely noticed when they were. Blackwell: ::She smiled to the Denoulan with a bright smile herself. Rue ws intensely used to being shorter than just about everyone, and so she didn’t note the surprise he had. She did offer a warm hand to him:: I’m Prudence Blackwell, and you are? He didn’t reach out his hand, avoiding the contact, though his smile remained. He was about to politely explain he doesn't shake hands, give her his name, when the lift started to move again to take them each to their destination in the closest order, and there was a moment of quiet among the occupants as they waited. But it was only a moment… the lights flickered. Ashley glanced upward instinctively to look at the lights, but there was a sudden jerk. He was thrown to his left… or rather, the lift jerked to the right… throwing him right into the Human next to him, and into the wall. As they chatted, Rue was quietly aware of an nearly indistinct shift in the lift. She was sensitive to the rhythms and the workings of both space station and the ship. However, she had nary a chance to comment on something being strange when the lights blinked, and then all was a heave to the right, the left, and then she was on the floor of the lift with a Denublian in her lap. She gasped a bit, eyes wide as she looked to Ashley, her brow furrowed in stew of confusion, worry, concern, and some embarrassment, sprinkled with relief that she was able to break his fall. And then she heard a creak. And her mouth opened. Then the lift plummeted. It fell just long enough to put them into the air and allow them to free-fall before the safeties slammed into gear, stopping the lift from falling any further, at which point they unceremoniously crashed onto the floor. The Denobulan cursed beneath his breath as he caught his breath and found himself sprawled on the floor, rather ungracefully and atop the Lieutenant. His midsection draped across hers, his arm draped across her arm... and he jerked away as quickly as he realized they were in direct contact, but the anxiety that the lift wasn’t stable took precedence. He pushed up onto his palms and his amethyst eyes shot to the Human in the lift, hoping she wasn’t injured. He thought he was alright, but that had been quite the sudden ride. As Inertia floated them above the floor, Rue had the brief thought that it was not the drop that was frightening - it was that sudden stop at the end. And in this case, as physics combined in a hilarious fashion to bring the floor to them rather than they go to the floor. And there was a thud. Oh. Rue had promised herself no injuries on this shore leave, and it seemed that was a promise she was going to break - but at least it was not her ribs, which were instead, from what she could tell, bruised. She barely noticed Yael moving quickly away to avoid the awkwardness of draping himself over her, sitting up and rubbing her ribs. Yael: Are you okay? Blackwell: I am, are you? That’s not a normal function of the lift, I assure you of that. ::She frowned and stood up, wishing she had her PADD with her. Instead, she would have to make due with a bit of wits and intuition. She stood up, offering her hand to help him up as well, and looked towards the panel.::: Yael: Perhaps… we should notify someone. Blackwell::She rubbed her side and grinned:: Likely, but in the mean time let me see if I can figure out what is happening. Do you want to comm someone while I look? ::she moved over to the panel, taking her hands off her side::: Of course, the computer would already be alerting the proper persons of the malfunction. These things did happen on such a large station. It was as Rue touched the panel that she was suddenly aware her hands were shaking. She wasn’t normally so...easy to startle, but the adrenaline was up. Her body was simply responding to that. She shook her head, took a breath, and opened the panel. And then... The lights suddenly flicked off, and they were plunged now into the darkness. Thankfully an emergency light blinked to life a few moments after… but not before Ashley cringed, having expected another drop to happen. Blackwell:::Her heart was pounding in her cheat, a hard beat that was in her ears. She took a deep breath, pressing her hand on the wall of the lift and closing her eyes, her back towards Yael:: Seems like...we are okay. Yael: Thankfully… it seems to be holding steady, for the moment. Though he had a firm grip on the wall just in case… not that it would guarantee their safety, but he felt more stable as his eyes adjusted quickly to the low light. Blackwell: Yeah ::She exhaled and turned, looking to Ashley and gave a half grin:: What is your name? I’m afraid I didn’t catch it in the plummeting. Yael: Ensign Counselor Yael. ::pausing:: Ashley. Blackwell: It is nice to meet you, Ashley ::She offered a hand to shake. It was there she noticed the gloves, and momentarily hoped that she had not walked right into a gaffe:: Yael: It’s okay… ::he tried to smile through the nerves::... I don’t shake hands. Nothing personal, I promise. Blackwell:: I think I managed to bruise a rib or two..nothing worrisome. ::She then took a moment to consider the lift:: But this should not have happened, and we should have had a contact by now. Yael: Are you an engineer? ::noticing now her attention to the panel:: Perhaps we could notify them directly. Blackwell:::She considered for a moment. Turbolifts worked through the power of alternating electrical currents that allowed the lift itself to ascend and descend. It could break if power was out, if there was a breech in the lines, faults in the channels carrying the currents - there were numerous possibilities. And what was frustrating was that likely the fault was - external- rather than internal to the lift:: Which meant barring her doing something reckless, they were for the moment, stuck. Blackwell::She hit her comm badge and frowned for a moment as the chirp did not seem to connect. Another clue, and another frustration. Something was jamming the signal. It could very well be the disruption in the current. She exhaled and looked to Yael:: We may be here for a while… Yael: ::trying his comm badge, which chirped strangely:: I certainly hope this isn’t a *systemic* problem. We could be in here for a while if it’s not just the lift. Can you... try anything from the panel? Blackwell: Well - ::She turned and looked back to the panel for a moment. She did not have her PADD, but she did have her tricorder - she rarely left without that. She pulled it out of the pocket of her skirt and scanned the controls, just to see if there was any disruption with the lift itself. She swallowed as her suspicions were confirmed:: I think I know what is happening. Yael: And that is? ::curiously, framed by the red emergency light:: Blackwell: The lift seems fine - I think the problem is with the shaft itself. The question is - how extensive is the problem ::she gave a faint grimace:: The Denobulan gave her a concerned smile now, noting her less than enthusiastic expression and tone. Yael: … I’m afraid I’m less than technically apt… what do you mean? Blackwell: Meaning - we know that above us was a rather rough go….below could be as bad if the disruption is widespread. Yael: So… we stay put then. They’ll notice the malfunction soon enough. He was trying to console them both with the knowledge they couldn’t be lost or stuck somewhere for *too* long without it being noticed. Then he tried not to laugh, though he did chuckle lightly. Yael: I… don’t suppose you were in a *hurry* to get anywhere? Blackwell:::She rubbed her ribs for a moment and exhaled:: Weeellllll... Yael: Because if you were, *those* plans are canceled. A small joke in the face of their unexpected incarceration in the dead lift. Blackwell: Yeah….::She shook her head and put her hands up:: I guess for now...we get comfortable. ::She smiled, and leaned against the wall of the turbo lift::: Yael: Your ribs are okay? I kind of… well, *landed* on you. Quite rude of me. Blackwell: I wasn’t aware you could control inertia with propriety ::She softly chuckled:: But no, I’m all right. Just a bit banged up. Yael: I recently broke a couple ribs, it’s not something I wish on anyone. Blackwell:::she rubbed her hands together and nodded quietly:: I have had that too, and not eager to repeat it. But I am all right. What about you? ::She smiled back:: Where were you going before this...happened? Yael: I was heading to Verriar’s. The tongo wheel was calling to me. ::pausing:: It will still be there when we’re freed. There was that Denobulan patience at work. He leaned back against the wall now, less gripping it and more relaxing against it, confidence growing they wouldn’t fall again now that the safeties had caught them. Blackwell: That is true. I suppose if nothing else, we can call this an unplanned meet and greet. Yael: ::smiling:: If you wanted my attention, I offer walk-in hours. Blackwell::She chuckled and moved to sit down across from him, knees bent. She stretched out her arms and rested her elbows on her knees:: So - we haven’t met before, are you a new arrival? Yael: I’ve been here a couple weeks now. I was stationed here years ago though, so it already feels familiar to me. ::pausing:: And yourself? Ashley took to mimicking her posture, sliding his back down the wall and crossing his legs beneath him to sit, though he kept his back against the wall when he did. Blackwell: Been here for a bit but still..::She moved her head back and forth a bit:: Adjusting. I came here after a bit of a personal life change and so...been shifting gears from that. ::She grinned a bit:: So tell me what made you join StarFleet, Counselor. Yael: Oh, the same old story. Kid looks up at the stars and asks, “what’s out there?” I love being out here in deep space. ::pausing:: I like being one of the first to see what’s newly discovered. Blackwell:::She smiled softly to that, linking her fingers together:: I can’t say I felt any different. For me there was a family element..more or less to get out, adventure, experience things that you just can’t planetside. Yael: It also conveniently puts a few billion AU between me and my father. That one was more a joke, mostly, despite being true. But who couldn’t relate to having a somewhat oppressive parent one wanted to escape from? Blackwell:::She raised a brow to that and chuckled:: That’s also a common story. And while I get along with my mother and most of my family, it is nice to have some distance ::She smiled to that, if a bit vague, and picked at thread on her skirt::: Yael: You mentioned a personal life change? That it was giving you trouble? Blackwell:::There was a glance from her skirt and to his face, and back again, and chuckled faintly:: Ah, Counselor - eager to listen? Yael: Hey, it’s what counselors do. We listen. *If* you’d like to talk. Perhaps I could help you adjust. Blackwell: It’s not really that interesting… :her shoulders rose and then fell slowly:: Yael: Is there something holding you back? Something you miss where you came from? Blackwell: My father died ::She finally said succinctly::: Yael: Oh… ::pausing:: I’m sorry. Blackwell: No, it’s alright ::She smiled and exhaled slowly:: It has been a while since he died and while I miss him...it hurts differently now. Yael: What do you mean? Blackwell: I suppose it’s more …:she rubbed her hands together, and quietly popped the knuckles of her right hand:: It’s less of a sharp pang and more of a dull ache that comes and goes. I can forget about it during work, or when I’m busy. ::and a sort of wane smile:: And comes back when I start thinking about calling my family. Yael: ::his smile was softer:: I see. You sound like you were close to your father. Blackwell: We were very close. My father was in many ways my rock...not a hero persay...but he just always had an affable way of convincing me...that as strange as the universe is, it all fits together. Yael: It does seem to have a strange way of working itself out, doesn’t it? ::nodding:: She pushed her hair from her face and looked down for a moment. Her father had seen the universe as a discordant but glorious symphony - countless instruments and voices all adding into a sublime arrangement that resonated through every single person and being. Even though he never left planet side, and was largely taken with his near obsessive study of strange antiquities, there were also moments that he would widen his gaze to reflect on the fact that beyond the world, there were other worlds and lives happening. He found it endlessly fascinating to look at older works, prior to when First Contact occurred, and to wonder how humans kept their hopes alive even when they thought they were alone. And to him, the answer was simple - they knew instinctively they were not, and it was just a matter of the first meeting happening. He was strange like that. Strange and wonderful. And Rue missed that. Blackwell: He just tended to think that..no matter how complex the picture, how complex the work, even if it was madness or chaotic, there was always some unifying thread….so to speak. ::Then she laughed:: Then again, he also did think that ketchup could go on just about everything. Yael: ::laughing lightly:: Clearly a mad-man. ::pausing:: Ketchup is the *red* sauce, correct? Blackwell: Terran Condiment - comprised of tomatoes, salt, vinegar, a few other things - and not normally what one would suggest for deserts. ::she grimaced and laughed:: So ….how about you? Why a starbase? Yael: It’s the most intriguing collection of types of people. Which makes my job as a psychologist that much more interesting. It’s a whole different kind of world, far from home. She knew why she had chosen a starbase - her urge to be in strange unfamiliar places on a constant basis had waned after her father’s death. She felt herself strangely needing an anchor point for her life. The starbase for now, was that. Blackwell: Well, it - is- different. Certainly you're far from home, but you are also at the same point, we have sort of a static arrangement. Literally, we are a home base. Yael: For so many different sorts. ::he nodded in agreement:: The lights flickered slightly, but the lift held steady. It was as if the lift was reminding them of their precarious position. Ashley tapped his comm badge once more but got the same delayed chirp, a failure to connect. Incredibly odd to say the least. Rue exhaled in an empathetic sense of frustration. What - was- taking the engineers of the station so long to look into what was happening, and more importantly solve it. Yael was very pleasant to talk with, but somehow spending the rest of their careers in the turbo lift not what she had in mind. Yael: Though I imagine you wish you were elsewhere… I’m glad I’m not in here alone He was realizing how close that had been near to happening. It wasn’t as if being alone for a few minutes would kill him, but he was already feeling properly trapped in the small space. She turned to him and smiled gently, but her brow started to furrow in concern. Blackwell: Why is that? Yael: Denobulans don’t do very well in isolation. I suppose the station is great for those purposes as well, there’s never a lack of people to meet, things to do, events to attend. I never feel lonely here. Blackwell: Well, that’s true - I mean we are always surrounded by people unless we are in your quarters ::She considered that quietly, though privately considered that at times one could feel lonely even surrounded, but she turned her thoughts to the Denobian, listening as he spoke:: Yael: When I first arrived they tried to assign me to these sprawling quarters. Two extra rooms, separate kitchen. Far too much space for just a place to sleep. I talked them down to a studio economy suite with a view of one of the docking pylons. They can give the larger space to a family that needs it. Blackwell:::She chuckled:: Practical, but also sweet and thoughtful. ::a quick grin to that:: . My own quarters are ...comfortable. Living area is practical, but in my bedroom, I hung tapestries and lights to try and create...I guess a sense of privacy and safety. ::She smiled a bit to that:: Yael: ::as if asking for more, but smiling at the thought:: Tapestries? Blackwell: I like to feel a bit like I’m…::She shrugged a little bit for a moment and looked sheepish:: Like a kid’s fort I suppose ::She wasn’t sure if he would know the reference. Did Denobian’s make pillow forts?::: Yael: ::now he chuckled at the vision building in his mind:: A kid’s fort? Inside your bedroom? Weren’t kids forts made of wood and put up into trees? Perhaps he was thinking of the wrong Human custom. Blackwell: Oh well, Blankets and such over chairs, just a place to hide. Just a place to escape my parents or my brother as a kid ::She laughed:: I suppose it’s a bit silly. But Harmless. Yael: Ahhh, I see. ::he chuckled lightly now that he was getting the idea:: I suppose I could compare my bed. A ridiculous number of pillows and blankets… Denobulans can tend to *nest in*. It’s good to indulge in a little frivolous comfort, I think. Blackwell:: I think we always need time for a bit of frivolity and just being silly. It is what keeps us sane. ::She grinned:: I’ve even known a vulcan prone to a bit of frivolity. He would read salacious novels with me. Yael: A Vulcan reading salacious novels? Now *that* I’d pay latinum to see. Blackwell: There can be a lot to learn from pursuits that have quote un quote no purpose ::She grinned:: and even better, you learn it without realizing it and without feeling like it’s work. That was the truth. She could reflect on a few points where she had taken time out just to relax, just to do something that was utterly ridiculous, and ended up gaining something she hadn’t expected from the experience. Memories or a knowledge that just could not be planned for. Ashley was finding he quite enjoyed Lieutenant Blackwell’s company. In fact she seemed to be a bit of fresh air… stuck in the turbolift, they needed all the fresh air they could get. Yael: All we need is a campfire and some snacks. No weather, so we don’t need a tent. Blackwell: That would get their attention ::she exhaled:: the campfire at least ...when the sensors went off ::she chuckled and looked to Yael:: I do like camping though. I don’t get to go often. Yael: Perhaps you could join me sometime? At Verriars, if you’re into the bar scene or tongo, or on the holodeck? I have a feeling we’d have enormous fun. Blackwell: Why not ::a warm smile on her lips and she looked up:: Though for that to happen...we are going to need to get out of here. ::And then she stopped, as she heard a thump on the top of the lift:: ….Let’s hope that is good news? The Denobulan hybrid glanced up toward the roof at the sound, and a bit of relief ran through him. Yael: Sounds like there’s someone above us. Blackwell: They have specialized devices to come out on the lifts and do routine repairs ::she considered and exhaled, wishing there was a way to see on the top:: Yael: How do we know it’s a crew? ::he glanced at her with a grin:: Maybe it’s a turbolift monster. A “gremlin on the wing,” isn’t it? Blackwell: Well...If we listen closely ::She pressed her ear against the wall and closed her eyes, focusing, and then smiled:: ...Sounds like something is working. We - may- be in luck. Which is good because I was about to take matters into my own hands…::she grinned wide:: Yael: How so? I would think the most we could do from in here is *yell* very loudly into the nether. Blackwell: Climb to the top of the lift and see if I could get a repair done on my own ::she winked:: But you won’t have to see me do derring do just right now. Yael: You’d climb on top of a broken lift, from inside it? ::he chuckled lightly:: That’s a pretty bold thing to do. Blackwell: Oh I can be pretty...bold when I put my mind to it ::She laughed softly and shrugged:: I - try- to keep it limited to when it’s absolutely necessary but only when I’m at risk or there is no other option….hence why I’ve been really patient. Yael: Starfleet does attract bold personalities. And that would be better than being in here alone. Blackwell::She gave a mischievous smirk to that:: If It was just me in here, I would have likely climbed to the top of this thing to see what I could fix on my own. ...So in a way, good thing you were here too as you kept me out of trouble. Yael: ::with a bit of humor:: I do apologize for making you hold back. Your way sounds like a *lot* more fun. There was a sudden shift to the weight of the lift, and his hands shot out to brace against the wall and floor… but it didn’t drop or move violently. More, it was shifted, then began to move ever so slowly. She laughed to that and then binked as the lift began to move again, and she braced herself against the wall...and then as it moved, looked to Yael. Yael: I think we’ve been hoisted. Blackwell: I think so….about time. There was another sudden shift in the position of the lift as it slowly moved. Then a mechanical sound began to whine. There was a chirp… their comm badges both activated, and a voice soon came across the line. Engineer: =/\= Who have we got in there? =/\= Yael: ::responding with relief:: =/\= Lieutenant Blackwell and Ensign Yael. =/\= Engineer: =/\= Anyone need a doctor? =/\= Blackwell: =/\= No, thankfully not. =/\= Engineer: ::clearly glad there were no injuries, then, with humor:: =/\= When I said I wanted to go fishing this week, this *isn’t* what I planned. We’ll have you out in a few… bringing you down to the next level nice and easy. Stand clear of the door. =/\= Blackwell:::She looked to Yael and smirked:: Well glad they are getting to have a laugh.:::and then to the comm:: =/\= something go on with communications? We couldn’t reach anyone =/\= Ashley was already sitting near one of the sides, across from the Lieutenant, so he tucked his legs in a little closer, keeping amethyst eyes on the door as the mechanical sound intensified. Engineer: =/\= Yeah, comms went down for a few minutes. Computer malfunction during a routine system refurbishment. Bad timing with the lift. Sorry ‘bout that. =/\= Blackwell: =/\= Well, I’m just glad we are getting it resolved...though I hope you can find point of error to avoid this in the future =/\= She sounded cheerful though Yael could see her quietly working through what she might write on a report. Yael: =/\= How far did we drop? =/\= Engineer: =/\= About seventeen decks, before the safeties kicked in. Bet it was a fun ride. =/\= Yael: ::to Blackwell:: Something like that. Blackwell:::she smirked:: Oh absolutely. And after time, there was finally a nice hum where the lift moved to the appropriate floor, and both Ensign and Lieutenant were free of their temporary confinement, on to go about their ways:: Yael: ::as they parted:: It was nice plummeting to my doom with you. Blackwell: Let’s do it again sometime! ::and she waved cheerfully and was on her way:: ************************ Lt. Prudence Blackwell Comm/Ops Starbase 118 OPS G239308PB & Ensign Ashley Yael Counselor Starbase 118 Ops C238211TZ0

🤣

This is exactly what Alora says too!

For me, it's just Shran, no contest. I felt like the character really grew through the series and gained depth as it went along.

((Deck 5, Hammer’s Bowling Alley, USS Thor - 0426, The night before the promotion)) Neither Wil, or his Captain, had achieved their primary objective yet. He held the bowling ball in front of his mouth, thinking about his technique. He thought about which of the guiding triangles he should aim for, as he sang quietly along with the audio that was filling the bowling alley. Ukinix/Audio: The man in-me will-do… near-ly a-ny task… With the grace of an uncoordinated horse, Wil took a few steps towards the white line. As he approached, he swung the bowling ball back behind him, before flinging it forward and releasing it from his fingers. After the sound of a large “thud” of the ball hitting the polished wooden floor, the ground rumbled as the ball travelled along towards the head pin. Wil made a fist in anticipated victory, before the pins crashed together, knocking almost all of them over - except for the furthermost outside two pins on the very back row. Computer: You have bowled a 7-10 split. Your score is 8 points. Ukinix: ::Single clap of hands:: Dammit! So close. Rahman: Tsk, tsk… forget the bridge simulator, you need to spend more time at the lanes. Wil looked up at Teller, who was suspended from the ceiling of the bowling alley by a bungee cord that was attached to a device with slowly flashing red lights. The device was wirelessly hooked into the bowling alley’s scoring system. Below the dangling suspended Teller was a large tub of a cream and gelatine mixture. And his dress uniform lay crumpled up in a pile next to the tub. Wil looked up at the newly minted Commander, and gave him a wink. Ukinix: Don’t worry, mate. ::Gesturing to Roshanara:: One of us will get that strike, we’ll get you down. Teller: ¡ʇuɐǝɯ noʎ ʇɥƃnoɥʇ I ʇɐɥʍ ┴ON sᴉ sᴉɥʇ uʍop ǝpᴉsdn unɟ ǝɯos ǝʌɐɥ oʇ ʇuɐʍ noʎ op pᴉɐs noʎ ǝɹǝɥʍ ɹɐǝʍs I lᴉM Roshanara looked up at the suspended and newly-minted Commander. Rahman: Do you mind? I’m trying to bowl here… Teller: ¡uᴉɐɹq ʎɯ oʇ ƃuᴉɥsnɹ poolq ǝɥʇ llɐ ɥʇᴉʍ ʇɐɥʍ noʎ ʇɔɐɹʇsᴉp oʇ uɐǝɯ ʇ,upᴉp 'ɹǝddᴉʞS ʎɹɹos ɯ,I ɥO His first CO gave him an approving smile before she took a few steps and launched the ball towards the pins. With a satisfying crunch, she managed to hit seven of them. Not enough to dunk him completely, but enough to trigger the device to give him a little shake as it dipped him closer to the tub. The line shuddered, dropping him a few CM’s closer to the frothy tub. He didn’t know how they’d convinced Darren Hammer, owner & operator of the lanes, to setup what looked like a large kiddie pool full of jello & shaving cream, but Geoff suspected bribery. He also suspected that somewhere, Taz Shandres was filming this, ready to make another viral hit on Fednet. Teller: ¿uoᴉʇᴉpɐɹʇ ʇǝǝlɟɹɐʇS ɐ sᴉɥʇ sᴉ ʎlʇɔɐxǝ ʍoH Wil furrowed his brow momentarily. For a split second, he could have sworn that with his friend suspended like that, it sounded like he had Wil’s accent. He shrugged his shoulders and shook it off as an odd, stray thought. Ukinix: Mate, stop whinging. All the greatest officers have been through the same thing. They did it to Spock when he became an ambassador. ::Under his breath:: Probably. ::To Roshanara:: Your bowl, Captain. The Kriosian nodded and held the ball up to her chin as she studied the lane like a starship tactician. The pins waited at the end as if they were a line of Tholian webspinners. Rahman: This one’s from Rosie. Teller: ˙˙˙˙ʇsnɾ plnoɔ ǝʍ ʞoo˥ The ball struck home with thunderous force and the line went slack. Geoff had a strange moment of weightlessness during which he considered many of the choices he’d made to lead him to this point in his life. His self-reflection was interrupted by his rapid descent and nearly explosive entry into the pool, which flung foam and jello like a geyser in every direction. Geoff struggled through the bizarre, coconut smelling soup, trying to pull himself through it. All he could hear was the splorp of jello moving and peels of laughter. When he finally was able to take his feet, Geoff had less than a second to realize both the Skipper and Wil were pointing strange sparklie tubes at him. With a loud pop, both spat an enormity of brightly colored confetti at him. He was now shirtless, pantless, and effectively glazed and decorated. Teller: I’m a damn cup-cake. Teller: oO They’re going to pay for this. Somehow. They’re going to pay. Oo Wil couldn’t stop laughing. He crouched down, before laying on the ground, on his side, holding his stomach. There was a mischievous snicker that he couldn’t stop. He looked back at glittery, gloopy Teller, and laughed even harder as he rolled onto his back. Rahman: Quit horsing around and get over here. Eventually, Wil got to his feet as his laughter subsided. On the nearby table were three essential items - a towel, a bathrobe, and a glass of White Russian. He picked them up, and handed the towel and glass to Commander Teller. Ukinix: There y’are, Geoffrey. Geoff took both items with deep suspicion, but with few other options he tried to clean himself up while taking a tentative sniff of the drink. Teller: The hell is this? Smells like a milkshake! Wil picked up his own half finished White Russian, and raised his glass in Teller’s direction. Ukinix: ::Holding up glass:: To Commander Teller. Geoff grinned and nodded his head solemnly before throwing the newly soaked towel back at Wil, catching him full in the face with a wet twok. Teller: Cheers, mate! Roshanara held onto the oversized beige bathrobe with both hands held out, taking care not to look too far down while she protected Teller’s modesty in front of any Prophets watching from the nearby Celestial Temple. Rahman: All right, let’s make sure you don’t catch a cold. Geoff glugged down the desert like drink, but caught the lingering bite of a sweet liquor. He suspected he’d be upside down again, without being tied to the ceiling, quite soon. The bathrobe was enormous and nearly went down to the floor, flapping past his wrists and into his tumbler. Somehow, a floppy belt really tied the whole ensemble together. Teller: Is this some kind of religious ceremony I’ve never heard of? Oooh, I know, can I be one of those Romulan lady sword monks?! The drink was already kicking in. Wil took a quick sip of his drink while eying Geoffrey in his ensemble. Ukinix: You look like a pimp. The captain went over to grab her own mug of coffee. It was rather early in the morning after all. She took a seat on one of the comfortable couches. Rahman: So… Mr. Teller. I suppose this marks a new chapter. You’re certainly no longer a young, wide-eyed ensign. Geoff smiled and accepted the compliment as graciously as he could manage while tripping over the edge of an oversized bathrobe. Teller: ::Geoff smiled sheepishly:: Thanks Skipper, that was...almost kind of you to say. Rahman: You’re fortunate you’re so irritatingly ingratiating. It’s the only factor I’ve identified that’s kept you from getting shot at more often. Geoff smirked and bowed with an elaborate flourish. Teller: All part of the service, Skipper. Ukinix: Captain, just give the man a hug, he deserves it. Roshanara looked back at a beaming Teller for a moment and then shook her head. Rahman: “Nah, I’m good.” Wil smirked and blinked a little at his Captain’s impersonation of him, before he turned to his friend. Ukinix: ::To Teller:: I’ll head to the bar and get us another round. He turned and made his way over to the long, luxurious wooden bar that was positioned away from the bowling lanes. Geoff nodded in thanks and produced the empty tumbler from under a frayed sleeve. Why the bathrobe already looked ratty and worn was beyond Teller, but it was surprisingly comfortable. Teller: It’s this brand of supportive abuse that got me where I am today - so in a way, Skipper, all of ::Geoff gestured to his fairly ridiculous self:: this...is on you. After her chief engineer went off to raid the alley’s stores of alcohol, Roshanara looked over at Teller sitting in the much-too-large armchair across from her. Rahman: You look adorable. Like that first time you sat in my command chair. Geoff’s eyebrows went up - it was a moment he remembered well. Teller: I was terrified, you know? Figured the seat was booby trapped or something. ::Geoff found his smile coming more naturally.:: I’m still not 100% sure it isn’t. She just smiled back coyly before she got up and took a seat next to him in the other chair, pulling her feet up and folding her legs under her as she sat. Rahman: So… how are you? Geoff mimmed strumming a guitar. Teller: Well, like you said Skipper - it’s been a long road. ::Geoff smirked:: But it’s been worth it. Rahman: Yes, yes… but I’m not speaking as a Starfleet captain to a commander in terms of the job you’ve done. I mean how are *you* doing? Geoff leaned back, considering the scope of the unexpectedly personal question. He noticed his dressed uniform, crumpled on the floor nearby, and the pips near the collar. Each represented missions, and people, and time spent or adventures had. He’d met friends, formed bonds, and grown as a person with each little bronze circle pinned to that jacket. Their significance had never seemed greater to him. Teller: Honestly...I guess I don’t think about it much - but I’m good. Really. The last year hasn’t been easy, but watching this crew come together has been..enriching. It was something I didn’t expect...and I didn’t expect to like it. I feel...older, somehow. And not just because my shoulder makes that crunching noise. She nodded as she cradled her coffee mug. Rahman: You’re someone others look up to now. Someone who models the kind of officer they hope to be. And someday, you’ll be someone else’s “Skipper.” Geoff tried to imagine that. Not the brash fantasies of the Academy, but a real time where a Captains chair was his and his alone. It seemed...more plausible now, a natural extension of the work he’d done. It wasn’t about personal glory, it was an awesome responsibility. It wasn’t about self-aggrandizement, but about leading others and letting their potential flourish. It was so much bigger than he’d ever imagined as an Ensign. Teller: I got lucky - I learned from the best, and ::Geoff nodded towards the bar:: I worked with the best. Shoulders of Giants. That should be the title of my autobiography. So much better than my other idea. Geoff got the least bit embarrassed. Teller: “Telling the Teller Tales By Teller.” Yeah, I know, it’s bad. She gestured to Wil in the distance as they both watched him rummage through the bar, still on the hunt for the evening’s next libation. Rahman: Still. It can be a lonely place at the top. And the friendships you made before you got there… are worth more than their volume in latinum. Roshanara herself had noted the change in her relationship to her shipmates when she’d moved up from chief engineer to XO. Being in a position of authority had required maintaining a certain distance, but that distance was created on both ends, from her and her colleagues--the latter’s effort being unexpectedly difficult to adjust to at times. Rahman: Have you gotten close to any of your new crew outside of a professional context? ::She grinned as she teased him slightly.:: Maybe someone special even? Geoff squinted and for a brief moment, heard his mother's laughter. Teller: What can I say - never found the time? Never found the right one? ::Geoff briefly reminisced about what had, and could have, been.:: Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment? The question was as much to himself as to his friend. It was true he’d kept to himself since leaving the Veritas, letting his responsibilities and his position isolate him. It had become almost habitual, and it allowed him to narrow his focus. Perhaps that was something else he had to...reexamine. Rahman: All right, then what about just friends? Teller: Friends - yes. Colleagues I respect and admire, absolutely. But there’s nobody else I trust like I trust you, or Wil, or Addison. Veritas feels like the home I grew up in - the people there took me in when I needed them, and let me become part of their lives. It was...something I didn’t know I needed. They’ll always be family to me. Roshanara nodded and then glanced down a little at his left arm, the stylized tattoo version of herself hidden underneath. What was once a drunken souvenir had become a badge of pride, representing Teller’s admiration for his first ship and captain. Rahman: I know I once told you that no matter where you go, Veritas will always be with you. Teller: Yep. I keep her right over here ::Geoff thumbed towards his heart:: next to the Thor. Rahman: But I think you should know it only gets harder to form those bonds from here on up… She struggled with the exact words she was looking for as he looked back at her. Rahman: The command decisions you’re making these days... affecting not just a team or a department but the entire crew... Geoff nodded gravely. He’d felt that distance forming more than once and had fought to dispel it. He leaned forward, his drink forgotten for a moment, his attention focused. Teller: It keeps me up some nights. I’ll take any advice you’ve got to offer. She nodded sympathetically. Rahman: One strategy is to keep your distance. It can make those decisions clearer for you about what needs to be done for the mission. But it can also leave you feeling hollow. She paused before she let out a sigh. Rahman: I’ve asked a lot of you over this past year. And you’ve done it. For Duronis II, Starfleet, and the Federation. But promise me one thing? Teller: I’ve never lied to you - not going to start now. You’ve got my word. Rahman: Don’t let this job consume you. A life in Starfleet isn’t just about getting the mission done. You need that social support, even more so as you move up the ranks. Make your time in the service about the *people* instead of the missions. The friendships you’ll leave with will make far greater company than the service ribbons. Geoff felt the wisdom in the advice deeply. His hardest days in Starfleet had been those when he was most alone, and the new bonds he’d forged in the last year had as much to do with his success as any that came before. Teller: Honestly, the Veritas is the family I was born into. The Thor is the family I got to build. I’m proud of both, and I know these people have my back as much as I have theirs. You taught me how to make a ship a home, Skipper. Promise me you won’t forget it. She nodded and raised her mug, tapping his glass. Both rang, and their shared their drink in brief companionable silence. ((“Quark’s Bar”, Deep Space Nine - three hours later)) Wil leaned over to the Ferengi that was behind the bar - although from his point of view, after the large quantity of drinks that he and Geoffrey had consumed, it looked like there were two of them. Ukinix: ::Raising empty glass:: Mate. It’s a bit of a dry argument here. ::Burp:: How about another drink? The Ferengi behind the bar gave the Human a fake cordial smile. To’n: You’re lucky it’s happy hour or you’ll be paying off your bar tab as a dabo girl. Geoff wobbled a bit, the conversation only half heard over the din in the bar and the din in his head. Teller: I did it Wil, I got that big new job….DABO! With a smirk, Wil thought of something that he knew would further infuriate the Ferengi. Ukinix: ::Smirking:: You’d be a *fetching* dabo girl, Commander! To’n: ::Under his breath:: Sure. If I wanted to lose all of my business. Ukinix: What? To’n: ::Fake smile:: Nothing. What will be your next drink, gentlemen? Wil lifted his finger, and unable to keep it still pointed to some of the bottles behind the bar. Ukinix: Two more big glasses of the green ones. And another two shots of the pink one. Teller: And whatever that talkative guy at the end of the bar is having. ::Geoff gestured towards the ancient Lurian with the hollow leg at the end of the bar:: And one for each of his brothers and sisters! Ukinix: Why not! ::Slapping Geoffrey on the back, then turning to T’on:: *Four* more of the pink ones, thanks! The bartender tried to keep the smile off his face. Their elderly patron had seventeen brothers and sisters. The drinks were added to the tab, as requested, as he fetched the rest for the well toasted officers. To’n: That’s a deal. When the Ferengi returned with their drinks, Wil grabbed one of the shot glasses, and handed it to Teller. He then grabbed one of his own. Ukinix: Congratulations, Commander. I’m proud of you. Geoff may have been exhausted, sore, and inebriated - but at that moment he was mostly relaxed. For however brief a time it would last, all was right in his world and he had the rare opportunity to celebrate with a dear friend. Teller: Thanks knackers! ::Geoff finished his drink and procured one of the replacements:: And I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Ukinix: What should we drink to? Geoff considered and had a brief, lucid flash of a children's story he’d heard long ago, about a pirate who learned too late that friendship was the real treasure. Geoff smiled at his brother by bond and raised a glass. Teller: To the real treasure, my friend. Ukinix: To treasure! They clinked their glasses together, before downing the pink liquid. Wil flinched, and his whole body shook as the strong alcoholic beverage went down. Teller: Ugh, that’ll burn a hole right through ya…::Geoff leaned against the bar heavily, lazily wandering through his memory of recent missions::..I ever tell you I met a dragon? Dragons..s. ::Geoff found the word oddly challenging:: They were nice! Ukinix: I think…::raising finger::... that I may be really drunk. We should call it a night. Or a morning. What time is it? Geoff glanced at a wall chrono that was all but hidden behind a giant hoload for something called ‘Papa Zek’s Oomax Guide’ and sprang unsteadily to his feet. Teller: Ungh...I’m supposed to be back on duty in an hour. I’ll have to find the infirmary and get something to clear my head out...or I might be the first person to get promoted and court martialed on the same day. Wil smashed his hand to his chest, to press his combadge - but missed, without him realising. Ukinix: Ukinix to Transporter Room… uh… any transporter room. Two to beam up Geoff squinted, pretty sure Wil and the Captain had arrived by shuttle. Teller: Who are you even trying... Ukinix: Why aren’t they answering? Geoff hoped the infirmary had room for two. Teller: Come on, Vice Admiral Winning Pants. Adventure is this way. Unsteadily, the two staggered towards the infirmary and all that lay beyond. END ==== Captain Roshanara Rahman CO, USS Veritas I238705TZ0 & Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0 & Lieutenant Commander Wil Ukinix Chief Engineer and Second Officer USS Veritas V239511WU0

((Main Sickbay - Starbase 118)) Sheila had hardly left Yael’s side since he went to sleep; the rest would provide him with a great deal of healing. Yet for herself she couldn’t. As a doctor she could have called in relief, backup, however rest on her part wasn’t going to be possible so she stayed by the Ensign’s side the whole time. Once and only once did she leave back to her office in order to settle into her wheelchair. Now Sheila had been awake for hours, each passing by slowly, sifting through the raw uncomfortable pain. Like before a double mindedness was noticed. Half was a relief at Yael being on the mend. The other half stiff, a constant look over her shoulder, a shift of her eyes to the very corners in order to keep track of the shadows her mind externally had her preserving. Shadows of her past telling her to run back to what made her hurt. Frankly that’s why she stayed by Yael’s side. A positive affect in the middle of a mind numbing fork in the road. A detour not a set back. Bailey: Hey, morning. How you feeling? The Denobulan hybrid rubbed his face, moving somewhat gingerly, and yawned as we woke. He wondered how his sleep cycle was going to survive all these unscheduled twists. Yael: Good morning… is it morning? He’d slept all night. She’d not slept all night. Bailey: Morning yes. Yael: You look tired. Have you been here all night? He was still a bit foggy, but much more coherent than he’d been when he initially woke the night before. Maybe it was the fact that her neck still hurt or maybe the fact that she had not slept in the slightest as to why she was a tad irritated. Irritated at nothing in particular. Bailey: I haven’t slept so yes. How are you feeling? Currently she was trying with all her might to avoid her pain. Yes she would have to address the emotions with Yael. Yael was the only person as of now that she wanted to discuss it with. Maybe German too but he was off dealing with his own turmoil; it would be rude to contact him about something he knew little about. Yael: I feel… ::he stopped to consider the hurt fleshy bits::... alright. There’s no pain. Bailey: Mind if I? ::She waved around the medical tricorder she had previously had sitting in her lap:: Laying still, which wasn’t hard for him at the moment, he let her sweep the medical tricorder across him. Sheila unlocked the wheels on her chair so that she could roll up parallel to Yael’s bedside. Here she waved her tricorder over his body. What came up on the tricorder screen was to be expected. Yael was healing even if after his sleep his system was being slow to wake up. Bailey: All systems are healing nicely. Might take a couple more hours for everything to come up to speed but that’s to be expected after being under anesthesia. Yael: Thank you. Now that Yael was awake it should have been standard to leave him to rest. Sheila on the other hand even with how exhausted she felt couldn’t. Just couldn’t. She had left her sisters. German had left too. In the current moment abandoning folks was not a goal of her’s. She would likely end up crying if any of the other current crew members left the station. Panic likely to set in if they got injured without her being there to stitch them back up. Bailey: I’m sorry. Can I get you anything? Water, something to read? Eat? There was something egging at him, something he couldn’t put his finger on, but she was off her game somehow. Was it lack of sleep? Was he seeing things from being under anesthesia? Yael: Perhaps… some company? If you’re not busy? Sheila nodded. Again she wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe it was obvious too that she was in pain despite her attempts to make the twinges in her neck minimal. Maybe too the twitches were a sign of extreme anxiety, a step beyond her normal controlled head shakes. At the thought her head shook violently and only semi painlessly. What embarrassed her most was how obvious the movement was. Yael was bound to notice. Bailey: I’m sorry. Sorry, my neck is stiff. ::That was a lie which she hoped wasn’t obvious. But if it was noticed perhaps a positive topic would come out of it:: Yael: It seems to be more than physical fatigue. Bailey: I...ummm…::For the first time it seemed she was truly at a loss for words:: Yael: It’s not about my injury, is it? I think a little more sleep and I’ll be good. Bailey: Sleep always does the body good. And no it’s not your injury. I stand by the fact you're healing well; above and beyond. ::Sigh:: I’ve got a lot weighing on me. Yael: Well… you’ve got my undivided attention here for a while. ::it wasn’t as if he was going anywhere soon:: Why not tell me what’s bothering you? If the ache in her neck was anything to go by then Sheila did have something. The need, the willingness, to speak about it almost ate her up inside. Yet she easily could walk away, give in to that little voice of her uncle. Go crawling back to what hurt her. Or she could even change the subject. Bailey: You should rest. Yael: I know you’re not one to complain about the little things, so if something is eating at you, I imagine it’s important. Bailey: Can past trauma cause dissociation? Yael: Oh, yes. It definitely can. It seemed that now the floodgates were opening right on up and wide. Bailey: I don’t know if you’ve read my file yet. Yael: When I first came aboard, yes. Bailey: I well happen to know a bad man. He hurt me. I know who and what he’s done. But the disconnect. How do I….I feel so out of step. Ashley thought on it for a moment. If she was dwelling on a past injury caused by a person she trusted, she could be experiencing an assortment of issues. Some form of PTSD was possible, or Betrayal Trauma. Narcissistic Abuse was keen to leave a sharp mark on any of their victims. Yael: Have you ever been counseled for this before? Specifically? Bailey: I’ve only seen one counselor for it, months ago. Since then I’ve mostly talked to both Taybrim and Nijil. Yael: Have you ever been taught any grounding techniques? Bailey: Not that I recall. The last time Sheila had talked to, specifically a counselor, had been Malko back in January right after she first transferred to the Starbase. Since then she had only been “counseled” in nonofficial ways. She opened up to Nijil and then Taybrim. German likely counted too but that turned out to be a conversation between friends. Despite having told a few others she had never gone so far as to wonder what she could do beyond letting them know it had happened. Of course she dealt with getting a service dog but that only, as of now, hardly touched the surface of the problem. Yael: I think, with dissociation happening, the important first step would be to help you re-ground yourself in the moments where you feel lost. First, I want you to identify one thing you can taste. ::pausing:: It might seem silly, but humor me. It wasn’t so much as silly but uncomfortable. Gave her this weird, unknown feeling. Sheila had never before taken the plunge, dove into deep water, in order to tackle the emotions head on. Bailey: Metallic. My mouth tastes metallic. Yael: Now, the air in here. How does it taste? Or is it cold, warm, stuffy? Identify two things you can smell. Bailey: I can smell medicine. It’s sharp, very much like cleaning supplies. I can smell a hint of lavender too. Must be from my chai tea. Yael: What are three things you can hear, right now. Bailey: I can hear us talking, both our voices. The volume is not too loud. I can hear the sound of the main doors opening and closing. Yael: Now, four things you can touch, instantly. Bailey: I can touch my mother’s ring. ::As she said it she pulled out the chain from under her uniform. The chain had a small ring strung through it; the ring had a black stone. Sheila had almost forgotten she had had it on:: Can touch the wheels of my chair, my tricorder, the bedsheets. Yael: And finally, five things you can see around you. Bailey: ::She counted them off on her fingers as she spoke:: I can see you, the monitor, my equipment cart in the corner, and if I turn around I can see both the nurses stations and the main doors. Not to be rude but is this going somewhere? Yael: It’s a method shortly referred to as “Five.” It’s a method of reidentifying to yourself where you are, what’s happening around you, and helps you focus through the dissociation. One thing you can taste. Then Two you can smell. Three things you can hear. Four things you can touch. Then Five things you see. He lifted a finger for each explanation. Yael: It can take a little repetition to get it down. So several times a day I’d like you to run through it, practice it. When you’re feeling good. So hopefully when you feel *less* than good it comes a bit more naturally. Think you can do that? Bailey: Doing it now was uncomfortable. Yael: ::he smiled at her:: It’s rarely natural the first time. ::pausing:: Do you want to tell me about what happened? Or at least, how you feel? Bailey: I mean it’s all so new. I’ve only scratched the surface when talking about what happened. I have found a few tools on my own yet they can’t always allow me to sort through my actual thoughts. Yael: It sounds like you’re finding ways to adapt. ::but she could still use some help, it seemed.:: What else do you do that *does* help? Bailey: I’ve actually talked with Taybrim and recently got a dog. A service dog. I’d like to have that companion to nudge me when I start acting distressed. Yael: A working companion animal was an excellent idea. Despite her having new tool in her toolbelt, one that research showed worked well for others, it couldn’t be everything. It stirred up a whole ton of emotions that made her question what actually happened. Her uncle was abusive to her, the type likely not important. Sheila did not want to sit talking or thinking about the past events. Yet how did it affect her now? What new label could she give the experience? Bailey: It might take more digging but I...I think it might be helpful for me to put a label on it. I know he, my uncle I mean, abused me as a child. I can clearly say that. Could you assist me and in putting a new label on it? Yael: ::nodding:: I can help you put a name to it, if that will help you. Bailey: With my patients I work on giving them a clear diagnosis as it helps direct the most appropriate form of treatment. I might be trying to grasp onto what I know works. I am hoping something similar could be applied here? Yael: Your medical training has prepared you well for this, I think. Having something to call it… or a name, a label… can help you define its boundaries. It allows you to psychologically confine it, in a sense. Bailey: The more specific we label it the better it, again, can be treated. I guess too having that specific label will allow me to not only understand it better but accept it easier and recover. Yael: Why don’t we set up a few proper sessions together. I can try to help. In the meantime, try using the grounding technique if you start to feel displaced. Bailey: I’d like that, having sessions. ::sigh:: I’ll try my hardest at practicing the grounding technique. In the meantime what do you recommend? Sheila would have loved to have a long sit down conversation, sort it all out at once. Yet from her own medical experience that wasn’t how things worked. It took several appointments for a diagnosis or if it didn’t the issue took time to heal. It was that healing process that was never linear. And now she was noticing how non-linear her own healing had been. At 13 years old she noticed the problem, at 16-18 years she had left her home planet and it wasn’t until a year ago that she finally actively started the healing process. Yael: For now? I think you should get some sleep. *Are* you sleeping alright? Bailey: Sleep? I mean last night was the first time I truly couldn’t sleep. Yael: You normally sleep well then? Bailey: Normally, I get 8 or more hours of sleep. Might wake up with a slight headache but that goes away. Yael: That’s good to hear. Bailey: I appreciate it, all your hard work. Yael: ::he tried not to chuckle at that:: I haven’t done anything but lay here. Bailey: Anyway I think I’ve taken up enough of your time. We should both get some rest. Ashley nodded in agreement, but was glad they had the opportunity to talk. Even if it took a major surgery for it to happen. Sheila herself slowly went back to her office, emotions mixed yet feeling better than before. Now not only did she have one tool, her service dog, but more were to come. Just like any good doctor the more tools the better. Lieutenant Sheila Bailey Chief Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops M239512BG0 No woman should ever suffer at the hands of men - Sara Lance; Legends Of Tomorrow & Ensign Ashley Yael Counselor Starbase 118 Ops C238211TZ0