Alora DeVeau

Attending her first awards banquet after the birth of her daughter in an elaborate, floor-length gown by renowned Betazed designer, Delara Vonn, this ethereal, floral motif was inspired by Alora's love for African Violets.

I really enjoyed the interaction between these two characters. IC: (( Skunkworks, Administrative Area, Denali Station)) It didn't fit. oO Fracking, k'ossting, .... Oo In front of her was the Norton's carburetor, in about 15 pieces. She had asked Crastrid's staff to send her what amounted to a genuine rebuild kit, rare, hard to find, and as it turns out, incomplete. Some of the synthetic parts hard deteriorated over time and the computer was balking at replicating new ones. Oddas: ::muttering, sofly:: Build the most sophisticated Starship in the Fleet, ::this 400-year-old thing eludes you::. She tossed the wrench - which she had to specially replicate - to the side, letting it clatter loudly to the ground. There was another Starfleeter doing some work who looked up, but was polite enough to ignore her and go back to his work. Aria stood, stretching and popping her back. Stelek: Did the machine do something wrong? Oddas: Other than existing? Stelek: ::dryly:: Other than existing. Aria glared at the Vulcan, who had the audacity to stand and look back impassively. Oddas: Having fun? Stelek: I assure you that is not the case. ::beat:: What is the real problem? Oddas: Maybe I've decided I just don't like this thing anymore. She gestured toward the motorcycle and instantly regretted it - it had been Irina's, and one of the things her family had insisted Aria keep after she passed. Aria leaned on the table and thanked the Prophet's Stelek's logic wouldn't force her to come and hug her. Oddas: I didn't mean it. ::beat:: I snapped at an Ensign, the Counselor. Stelek: Did they deserve it? She turned and leaned her back against the table, focusing on the other woman instead of the machine. Oddas: Could they? If they did, I doubt they should have gotten it from me. Aria thought she saw Stelek tilt her head slightly, the Vulcan shrug. Stelek: It's been my experience that the higher up the correction comes from, the less likely it is to need to be repeated. The Commodore let out a deep sigh and then a low growl. Oddas: This is why I hate the social aspects of my job. Stelek: You hide it remarkably well. Stelek raised an eyebrow and looked around the room; Aria smirked at the obvious sarcasm. After a moment, she realized there were footsteps approaching. Any: Response TAG, TBC ((OOC: Anyone who wants to join in, please feel free. )) Commodore Oddas Aria Commanding Officer Denali Station E239305OA0

Welcome! We're glad to have you with us!

((Jerrado Bistro, Deep Space 14)) Aine hadn't had a chance to get away from the ship since they'd arrived at New Bajor. There were new responsibilities and new officers. When Mel asked her what she wanted him to make for dinner she requested a night out, dealers choice...she was tired of making choices. He had selected a restaurant on Deep Space 14 that he'd heard some rumblings about. Supposedly a Terran/Bajoran fusion mix. Something familiar but just a bit different. As they scanned the menu together, Mel could tell that Aine was feeling stressed about something. And that she probably didn't want to talk about it. But he also knew that she needed to. She'd always been a little more on the reserved side, and that was rarely healthy. After placing their order they sat quietly. The dimly lit room was punctuated at the table by the small holo projector that displayed the menus but was now emitting a soft amber glow. Martinson: You want to talk about it? Martinson/Sherlock: No He grinned after he mockingly answered at the same moment she did. She returned the grin adding in a shake of her head at his ridiculousness. Sherlock: We're working through this personnel issue. And it's become a disaster. Martinson: How so? Conflict of interest? Sherlock: You could say that. There's some ::beat:: personal issues possibly. Martinson: As the Vulcans would say ::beat:: intriguing. Aine silently laughed for a second. She remembered a couple Vulcan friends she'd had and how they would say exactly that. Everything to them was either "fascinating" or "intriguing." It was as if Vulcans and Terrans had only just met after all this time. Sherlock: Michele voiced her disapproval. And I mean really voiced it. Martinson: And where do you sit? Sherlock: Her concerns are valid. The way Aine had said it, very officially, Mel could tell there was a "but" coming. Sherlock: But, I feel the way she went about it was wrong. Martinson: Emotions can be telling, in more ways than one. Sherlock: Right, exactly. On one hand, I feel she's letting her emotions guide her. On the other, she could be having those emotions because she's right. Aine sat back and crossed her arms while Mel gave her a second to reflect on what she was thinking. Sherlock: I just ::long pause:: never thought she'd act like that. Martinson: Why? You've acted out before. Sherlock: When!? Martinson: Deep Space Two-Two-Four. He raised his eyebrows at her. Sherlock: You deserved that. Martinson: I'm not saying I didn't. I'm just saying, that sometimes, emotions prevail. She knew he was right on that account. She sighed heavily as she went over the events of the day in her head. There was more she wanted to tell him about it, but couldn't. One thing she began to consider was changes in herself. And she worried that maybe she was losing that flexibility of the rules she coveted. In the past she was never afraid to question policies and procedures, even directly to HQ. And now, she was worried about how another officer acted as if she were nitpicking the policies. Sherlock: Do you think there's ever times when we need to question the rules? Of Starfleet, of the Federation? Martinson: Yes. She stared him in the eyes from across the table. Her face blank, but her eyes asking for more. Martinson: I think it's the job of the Admiralty to keep everyone on their toes with the rules. But I think it's the job of those out in the fleet to question them. I think that's built into the very core of what we do. If you had a hard and fast rule for all situations, you wouldn't be able to do anything out here. The very nature of what we do, what Starfleet does, is based on improvisation and flexibility. As if he could read her mind, he said the word. But it didn't give her an answer to the current situation. The server appeared with their meals and Aine sat up and the conversation paused. When the server left she leaned forward onto the table. Sherlock: So, what do you think should happen? Martinson: I think you should eat your bat...bird...things...and curry. You guys will figure it out. She picked up a piece of bat bird meat with her fingers and slowly but angrily took a bite as she eyed Mel. Like everything else, she was left with more questions than answers. End LCDR Aine Sherlock Chief of Security U.S.S. Octavia E. Butler R239712AS0

Oh you sweet, young, naive thing you. Just wait, it's early yet.

Congratulations! Well deserved, and excellent job all around!

((Forward Torpedo Magazine, Deck 12, USS Juneau)) oO In a crisis situation, it’s best not to second-guess every decision, Lieutenant. Remember? Oo But Drex had a working mind that could not be turned off just because it was a crisis situation, and especially since it was a crisis situation. He had learned, very long ago, to analyze everything from as many different perspectives as possible. He was used to taking a decision, possibly the right one, after gathering information. But they had no information this time. All he knew was that a worm was inside him and Alix took him off injecting him with some stimulant. The worm had taken over his ability to distinguish reality and imagination. It had created such a real nightmare that he could still smell the acrid blood permeating the floor and feel the monster's fangs penetrate the flesh of his wrist. It was something Drex was not willing to try again, but it was not only that. The worm that was in his body, had rushed for the glowing crate, but here there was no crate. Where would it go? Into Kendrick? He was their team leader. He was not the Captain or the XO, but he was the closest thing to them and Drex still remembered Commander Adea’s warning oO if I get killed, it’s very unlikely you’ll pass the test. Oo This was not a test, of course, so it was even more important to keep the Commander alive. Into Kingsley? It seemed the marine was quite confident to be able to take care of the creature. Drex did not know Gwen at all, so he could not judge her, but what he knew was that she was working on a very critical task and any distraction could be fatal for all of them. Into Kingsley’s emergency power generator? It could blow up the entire ship since it was connected to a nuclear torpedo at the moment. So, Drex was the only expendable victim, but you could bet the entire cargo of a Ferengi smuggling ship that he wouldn't crawl into the frying pan of his own will as long as he could avoid it. Luckily, Commander Kendrick was convinced of the validity of Drex's doubts. Kendrick: ::nodding:: Agreed. ::at Kingsley:: How far are we on that EMP pulse, Kingsley? Kingsley: Another minute, Sir. Kendrick: Great job. Kendrick: Ready to activate the EMP? Kingsley: Aye, Sir. Kendrick: ::turning to Drex:: Keep a close eye out on our friend over there, Lieutenant. We don’t know how he’ll respond to the EMP. Drex: Aye sir. oO Let’s hope he keeps sleeping until we meet with Alix. Oo Drex kept himself near the floating unconscious Andorian. His breathing was really shallow. Kingsley: 3 ... 2 ... 1 .... Mark. There was a light from the torpedo as it charged, a whine as it built up a charge, then blew in a loud crack. The air shimmered a bright blue as the electrical charge emanated from the center of the torpedo. Drex felt the electromagnetic charge released by Kingsley's magic pass through his body and raise the hairs on the back of his neck. An unpleasant sensation along the muscles of the arms and chest down to the legs and feet. He saw the Andorian's antennae stiffen on the back of his neck and a trickle of blood trickle from his nose. As the unpleasant sensation faded, the cabin plunged back into darkness again. Kingsley: Everyone ok? Drex: I’m fine and our friend is still barely alive. In the darkness Drex could not see, so he placed a hand on the Andorian’s arm in order not to lose him. He stood ready to inject the compound, waiting for Kendrick’s order to wake him up. Kendrick: Response Suddenly he felt a very faint tremor from the body next to him. The wrist started to glow blueish and a pale wormlike creature slipped out of the skin. It was not rushing anywhere. It looked stunned or sick. Without thinking twice Drex pressed the hypospray onto the worm's body and released the stimulant. The worm began to writhe, producing a low scraping noise that was soon followed by a higher volume scraping noise coming from behind the bulkheads, almost certainly from a service pipe. oO Very smart of you… Oo Drex: I… I don’t know why I’ve done it :: He murmured fearfully :: Kingsley / Kendrick : Response With still twisted movements, the worm headed towards one of the hatches trying to insinuate itself between the wall and the hatch. Drex’eyes followed its movements at first. He ignored whatever it was saying to him and after a few moments followed the glowing creature. Drex: He wants to go home. Drex was sure of that, although he could not tell why his guts was telling him so. Kingsley / Kendrick : Response Despite the cold, which had become even more biting in the last few minutes, making the air unpleasant to breathe, small drops of sweat began to form on his forehead. Drex: No! We need to open the hatch, we need to let him go. They’re scared. Just let me open the hatch! There was fear in his voice, but also a certain aggressiveness. Drex was sure he was right, but he didn't have the means or time to explain the situation logically. Maybe it was the spicy fragrance which hovered more and more insistently in the ship or it was an unwanted memory left inside him by his worm, he was jeopardizing his life on a logicless instinct that told him they had to go back to the crate now. Kingsley / Kendrick : Response TAG, TBC ((OOC: I wrote as if the scraping noise heard by Kingsley were the worms rushing from all places towards the crate, as Falt and Sanchez 's sims pointed out. I hope I have understand correctly)) ============ Lieutenant JG Drex Science Officer Denali Station D240011D14

@Genkos Adea left a strong impression.

I didn't think she was THAT bad.

Congratulations y'all! We're glad to have you!

I don't think they got it, @Avander Promontory

I literally laughed out loud when I read it!

Just a particularly funny ending, imo!

I enjoyed this back and forth between Stendhal and Promontory!

Glad to have you! ❤️

*eyes the Commodore*

Ross' player shared this beautiful SIM with me and I just couldn't not put this in appreciations. IC: ((Boston, MA, Earth)) The city had changed its colours. Even though Evan hadn't been there to witness it, he knew from experience. Boston common, a park much older than he dared to think about, had exchanged its enchanting autumn dress of grays and browns for fresh, enlightening green. The rain got less harrowing around this time of the year. When he stepped outside the transporter, the air greeted him with a rich, aromatic wetness, typical after a short shower, but the clouds had already disappeared and made way for spring sunshine, causing every piece of metal within the city to shimmer and shine. The streets were busy as always. He still recognized them, those street corners, the bigger lanes setting off towards the mystic river, small shops and businesses settled deeply into the rows of houses and skyscrapers. It was a city which had preserved its walkability even with the turbolifts popping up - and despite the fact that they would have brought him to his destination much faster, Ross opted for the long walk through the bustling city center that would eventually lead him into the more quiet streets, the suburban life he missed so much and despised at the same time. It felt nice to breathe some fresh air, to feel the sunlight on his skin - and there was something reassuring about walking the old streets, stopping at the same old corner shop where he had spent hours as a braggy and noisy teenager. The shopkeeper was gone, surely retired by now, but Ross immediately recognised his son, who had been in the same year as him during in middle school. There was something haunting about seeing those features again that had been so much more youthful the last time they had seen each other - like a call from the past, a punch in the guts from his own mirror. Ross grabbed a can of soda and went to the counter. Toby: How are you, Sir. That's 2.50. Ross: Hi. Thanks - ::he paid with change, just for nostalgic reasons:: Nice weather today. Toby: Yeah. Didn't stop raining for days now, you're very lucky. Are you on holiday? First time in the city? He hesitated. Evan's faint smile did not vanish as he tilted his head slightly - oO We used to write notes to the same girl during lessons, don't you remember? Oo Ross: It's been a while. Toby: Oh, then you should totally check out the Athenæum. They restored its front, and there's a really nice fair going on today. Lots of people in the city. Ross: ::nodding:: Yeah, I might. Thanks, pal. He knew he wouldn't. His destination was at the other side of town, in an uncanny house at the end of a quiet street. He wasn't sure yet if its door would open for him. Toby: Sorry - do we know each other by any chance? His smile grew a little more distanced. There it was, the prospect of a reunion - the dreading questions. Where have you been, how are you doing? Starfleet? Are you kidding? For the first time in his life, he would be able to tell something he could be proud of - and maybe for that exact same reason he didn't want to. Ross: No, I don't think so. Enjoy your day, man. He raised his hand and left Toby behind, the soft ring of the bells above the door feeding softly into his lie. The pensive gaze followed him a good few steps down the street, and he kept it close, like a second skin protecting him from curious questions and misplaced nostalgia. ((Short Timeskip)) ((Christina Stirling's House, Suburban Boston, MA, Earth)) Evan didn't remember for how long he had stood on the opposite side of the street, eyeing the small house in front of him, before he finally moved and crossed the street. She lived only two blocks from the house they had both grown up in - and yet, the neighborhood seemed much more quiet, much more established than the memory of his childhood which always seemed to take place in the city center, where things were so much rougher and rainy. The doorbell rang softly and sent shivers down his spine. Stirling, it said in plain letters - Christina had kept the family name he had never truly grown accustomed to. It's your choice, his mother had said, If you want to stay with 'Ross' that's fine with us. He couldn't really explain what it was about that name that he so desperately clung onto for all those years now - just another stamp of not truly belonging that he had forced onto himself for no real reason. His hair darker, his build more lean in younger years, a born runner - and younger, always so much younger than her. Christina had been 16 when her parents had opted for adoption. When Evan remembered his sister, he remembered the version from his childhood - and to his own shock it was a copy of that woman in her late 20s who now opened the door. Robyn didn't look exactly like her mother, but she carried her features - fierce eyes, broad shoulders and a few freckles spreading delicately over her nose. A toddler was sitting on her arm, cooing happily as their eyes met. Ross opened his mouth only to close it again. There she was, his niece, with a child he didn't know, and her confused expression said more than a thousand words. Whatever they had shared, ten years ago, it was gone - because he hadn't been there. Robyn: Oh... - Are you the guy for the roof? He couldn't bring himself to answer, and so he just nodded thoughtlessly - his heartbeat was rushing. Robyn: Sorry, I thought you were coming tomorrow! ::turning around, calling into the flat:: Mo-om! The guy's here, for the gutters! Ross subconsciously held his breath as he heard steps approaching. And then there she was. Christina, with her bright eyes and the blonde hair he had always envied, making her so much more akin to their parents - their eyes met, and she gaped at him in shock. Christina: ...Evan? He could only give a small, embarrassed nod. And then she was all over the place, approached him with fast steps, pulling him into a hug he had dreaded and missed, exactly like this little life in Boston. The same tears were verging their eyes as she detached from him, ruffling his hair in disbelief - Christina: I almost didn't recognize you... look at you, your hair... All gray. All grown up. She didn't say it out loud, but as they both smiled at each other, she knew she didn't have to. Robyn: Wait, did you say Evan? As in... uncle Evan? His voice was sounding incredibly raspy when he finally answered. Ross: Hi there... thought it was time. End of Scene (for now ) -- *** Lieutenant JG Evan Ross Intelligence Officer StarBase 118 Ops O240009ER2

I suspect the Captain. XD

That is a very good question.

Just...this whole thing.

From @Kettick's narration: This made me laugh.

Kind of off topic, but my brain read this as "Vanilla Origin Story". XD

((Soldotna, 21st Floor, Mac's Quarters)) Mac sat in one of the few chairs his living room currently held. He had been alternating an ice pack on and off his left forearm for the last thirty minutes. He'd stopped by the Clinic before heading back to his room, and one of the nurses had verified Mac's assumption that he'd overdone it in his workout, but they treated his arm and assured him he should be fine in a day or two. McGillian: Computer, begin personal log. Personal Log, Daniel McGillian Jr, Stardate 240104.16, I'm not sure where to start really. I thought I had started out on the right foot here, but clearly some old habits die hard. Mac was referring to his habit of trying to handle stressful situations on his own, and his lifelong struggle with connecting to people. McGillian: Instead of just easing into my new position, I managed to make myself look like a fool in front of the Commodore. ::sigh:: Atleast Falt thought I showed initiative. Mac did some of the deep breathing and grounding techniques that Tristana Yodel, the Counselor aboard the Alamo had taught him during their many sessions throughout his teenage rage years as he had come to call them. McGillian: If im being honest with myself here, I'm disappointed at being grounded instead of on a starship out exploring, and it kind of puts me on edge. Counselor Yodel would say ::imitates Yodel:: Daniel, you are allowing your fears of the unfamiliar to limit your ability to connect with your surroundings and your peers. ::sighs:: Pretty sure she'd be right too. I practically ran out of the awards at the first opportunity. Mac's thoughts swam. He'd been so focused on safety he'd fallen short on a key factor of security, your crew mates. He'd always wondered if it was his experiences or his Rodulan heritage that seemed to make it harder for him to connect with people. Maybe it was both. McGillian: Not everything has been bad, I had a good talk with Alex, Commander DeVeau was nice. ::wide eyed:: I should have seen if she needed anything after the awards. I never answered Lt. Xiron's question either. Mac stood up and started pacing. He felt bad for rushing out at the end of the awards ceremony, and although the Commander was certainly a capable woman, Mac just wanted to help. He had read about her loss when going through reverification paperwork, and postponed Deveau's until after the child birth. No one needed security clearance stress when dealing with everything she had going on. McGillian: I will check in with the Commander soon, I wouldn't want to disturb her now. ::loudly sighing:: I suppose I should probably make an appointment with the station's Counselor, maybe. I should check in with the new Chief of Security, Lt. Cmdr. Kendrick, first thing tomorrow. Computer, end log. Mac stretched his arm and stopped pacing at the front door. He turned to face his living room, and brought his hand to his chin while his brow furrowed. McGillian: Definitely need more furniture. NT/END _________________ Ensign Daniel McGillian Jr. Security Officer Denali Station D240104DM2

((Lora’s home - Kalus - Denobula)) ((OOC: this sim takes place almost at the end of shore leave. I haven't put any tag but if someone wants to meet Drex's family, please feel free to jump in!)) If Drex had made his calculations right, the house would have been empty. His mother Lora had a lecture at the Science Academy and his half siblings had moved from the house years ago. He was the last one to abandon the nest, but since he was not married he did not really leave it after all. He placed his right palm on the security panel near the main door. With a soft hiss the door unlocked itself. A sweet scent of flowers escaped from the inside, traveled through his nose and broke out into a nostalgic smile and a childhood memory of him and Ayra playing hide and seek with their mother. If he had made his calculations right, he had the time to refresh himself and eat something before anyone would find out he had returned. But "if" was wrong. As the door opened he realized his calculations were based on totally false axioms. Not only was his mother at home, he could hear her contagious laugh from the main living room on the right, but he could recognize at least six of the other members of his large family. Tara with her son Adrax and her daughters Alina and Riel, Tes and…wait! Was it Jorx the one who almost choked himself laughing? He surely was. Why were they all at home at that hour of the day? Instinctively Drex turned and raised his gaze to the sky towards the sun: it was definitely late in the morning. As he watched the sun moving motionless in the sky he toyed with the idea of closing the door again, nullifying all his good intentions, inventing an emergency to return to the ring and blaming anyone of his superior officers for his absence. oO They’ll never find out Oo Surely they would not. oO Oh… Yes. She will and… she will too. She knows you better than anyone else, you can’t lie to her. You did and she made you regret it.Oo Drex: Ayra :: He murmured with a deep breath :: oO And she, she will ask you about the ceremony. You can lie, she doesn't know how it really works, but are you ready for the consequences if she'll find out? You won’t lie to your section head officer. Oo Drex: Oh... just shut up. :: He commented bothered :: Ral: Always talking to your imaginary friend? The deep voice of his half brother caught him completely off guard. Drex lowered his gaze from the sky to the taller Denobulan. He forced a smile, trying to hide his disappointment of being mocked once again. Drex: Ain’t a friend. He's more of an annoying brother. The other man had kept walking and was now face to face with the science officer. Ral was half a head taller than Drex, but of the same build. Since they both inherited their mother's coloring and curly hair, they could easily be mistaken for twins. And the few years difference had not yet left any wrinkles on Ral's face. Ral: You miss me so much I’m one of your hallucinations now? :: He chuckled :: Drex: Hallucination? :: He shook his head :: Not at all. My hallucinations are all beautiful and kind and gentle and useful. But… I can classify you as a nightmare if you really insist. :: The mouth curved into a wide, sincere smile. :: I’m glad to see you, Ral. Ral returned the smile. Ral: I’m glad you made it. Ayra was driving me crazy, she even insisted that I come to pick you up at whatever place you could be. Ral reached out with his right hand for Drex’s bag as he rested his left hand on his shoulder. Ral: Let’s get inside before you decide to run and hide on a Starfleet ship once again. Drex: I did not hide. Why’s everyone here? You assured me they all had to work today. Ral: Yeah, I did :: He nodded and gently pushed his brother inside :: Drex took three steps backwards and with the forth he witnessed the door becoming the block of his only escape route. Drex: So, what happened? :: He insisted :: Ral: Mom is pregnant. She was keeping it a secret, until the marriage, but :: He shrugged :: she felt sick this morning while she was with Tara and you know how she is… Drex: Tara loose tongue. :: He sighed :: The older Denobulan nodded. Ral: You bet she is :: he laughed :: You’re better turned, our mother made some changes to the house and you risk tripping over something if you don't watch where you're going. Drex was forced to leave his bag to his brother while turning to face the following two steps that would have placed him right in the center of the doorway of the living room. An uncomfortable silence felt in the room. It lasted hours, or so it seemed to Drex. But he blinked his eyes only twice, before a voice he knew well and had missed too much shouted his name with joy. Lora: Drex! You made it! The woman rushed to her son and gave him a big hug resting her head on his chest for a moment. Drex inhaled the smell of her curly brown hair and his heart smiled. Drex: Hi mom… Ral told me the news, congratulations :: He embrace her for no more than five seconds before they pull apart :: Lora: Oh… He was supposed to be a secret. :: She slapped the air in false frustration with her left hand :: Come. Come and sit. You must tell us all your adventures before your sister sniffs you out and takes you away for preparation. Half shuffling and half walking, Drex reached the center of the room, where he was surrounded by the others. Despite having tried in various ways, he had never managed in all those years to make them understand how much he really hated that type of situation. On the other hand, how could a Denobulan be born and raised in an overpopulated city and in a family structure which, if one also included uncles and cousins, could count a few hundred members? For a few seconds the voices overlapped, but then one silenced the others. Jorx: Let him breathe :: He entered the room from the kitchen :: I’m curious to hear about his fabulous Starfleet. Drex clenched his jaw, even ceasing the forced smile he put on for being the center of attention. When his mother stepped aside, allowing him to see past her, he stared hard into his father's smoky gray eyes. Half of Drex’s family was home that morning. That was unexpected, especially since his half brother Ral had guaranteed him the house would have been empty. Instead, due to his mother's unexpected pregnancy, Drex found himself facing not only his mother, but also his father, among some of his own siblings and nephews and nieces. He has been away from home for more than a year now. The last time he visited his family, things did not go as smoothly as they should have, and an innocent remark caused a major row between Drex and his father, Jorx. Drex left Denobula the following hour and had not spoken to his father since, but now his twin sister was getting married and made him promise to help, so he found himself, for better or worse, facing his old man. Jorx: Nice to have you finally home, son. I hope you put some salt in that head of yours. Drex was tempted to walk away, but with the corner of his eye noticed Ral blocking the way. The doubt that he had lied to him and the meeting was prepared crossed his mind. Drex: Guess ain’t something you should care about. :: He spitted out :: But since you asked, I’m fine, thank you. And satisfied. He unzipped his jacket and got a small box from the inner pocket. Drex: Got something for you. He approached the older Denobulan and handed him over the box. Drex: I got promoted a few days ago. :: He ignored the small chat and congratulations the news produced on the others presents :: And Commodore Oddas gave me this for saving lives during the last mission. As you can see, I’m not wasting my time. I’m making a difference. Jorx took the box and looked at the ribbon inside. Jorx: Saving lifes? :: He snapped the lid shut :: You’re an architect, you save lives designing safe buildings! You… Drex: I’m not gonna waste my license arguing with you. I already proved my point. You are scared, I understand that, but you cannot control my life! Jorx shook his head with a snort of disbelief. Jorx: I never wanted to control your life, but you are letting others do it. You gave up your freedom for what? This? :: He raised the box a little :: Great deal :: A grimace marred his face. :: Lora: Leave him alone, Jorx, or leave this house now. His mother’s interference stopped Drex as he was ready to reply. His fist twitched against his side and he managed to bite his tongue before saying anything else. Drex: I’m the one leaving, mom, as you said a few minutes ago… I need to see Ayra. Ral: I come with you. Drex: No… I know the way. Drex was upset. Not only with his father, but with Ral and the others as well. They had planned to trap him, until his mother realized there was no way the two of them could come to an agreement that way. Without too much grace, he pushed his brother aside, making room for himself to reach the corridor and from there the exit. When he reached the outside, Drex walked without stopping down the avenue. His gaze to the pavement, he did not pay attention to the blue spots created by the blossoming Denobulan almond trees that lined the street. It had once been his favorite sight. He had hundreds of paintings in his laboratory, each a different attempt to photograph the magnificence of nature with the brush. He never got even close to perfection, but he never desisted, till today. Absorbed in his thoughts, mostly focused on complaints towards his father, he reached the building where Ayra lived. He and Ral had designed this building. A 23 floors tower, with balconies bursting with trees and shrubs. It was the first job Dorji had given him as chief architect. As he reached the entrance, he stopped and looked at the result of his first work. He felt proud of his achievement and the clouds that darkened his heart cleared. He entered the doorway and then the lift. His sister lived on the last floor. The rapid ascent lasted only a few tenths of a second, but it gave him time to put what had just happened in the back of his mind. As he knocked on the door, he realized how much he had missed Ayra and how much he wanted to hug her again. He felt stupid for not coming back sooner. He laid his hand on the sensor. The door opened and Ayra appeared. Her black hair was dyed mid-length a bright purple. The surprise on her face was sincere and a wide smile lit up her face. Ayra: Drex! She threw herself around his neck, hugging him. Drex: Easy! Easy! :: He laughed, hugging her back :: You’re gonna choke me. He moved forward, carrying her inside the apartment. Ayra: I missed you so much. Drex: Let go :: He chuckled :: Yet he was still holding her. His heart and his brain were in conflict with each other. She was his friend, his confidante and the model for all his lovers. She was, in fact, the reason why he never got married. Drex: I need to take a shower… :: He breathed in the scent of her hair one last time. Then he let go. :: Alone. :: He added in a whisper :: His sister took a step back with a smile, setting him free. Ayra: When did you become so shy? :: She mocked him :: Drex: We’re not kids anymore, Ayra. :: With a slight note of regret :: And you… :: He pointed at her :: you’re the one getting married tomorrow for the second time. Ayra: Oh… I see… now it’s my fault, isn’t it? :: She walked away pretending to be annoyed :: Make yourself at home then. Drex: Thank you. He took his jacket and shoes off, placing them in order in the cabinet near the door. Drex: Do you still have some of my old clothes? I left my things at mum’s… Ayra: Were you there before coming here? Why didn’t you take a shower there? Drex: Dad was there… long story… Ayra raised an eyebrow. Ayra: Long story? Your shuttle landed less than two hours ago. Get in the shower. I’ll get the clothes and you’re going to tell me what he said this time. She approached again, giving orders, but he saw the concern in her gaze. Drex: I don’t want to talk about that now, really… I… Unexpectedly, Ayra hugged him again. Ayra: You’re doing great, Drex. :: She whispered :: Don’t listen to him. I’m proud of you. NT / END ============ Ensign Drex Science Officer Denali Station D240011D14