Alieth

A pun in a medical appointment for poor eyesight? RUDE 😂

I have always loved each and every award ceremony I have read, because they are a love poem to the crew to all the good things that have happened, and it allows you to be very emotional and uplifting. I also think they are one of the MOST DIFFICULT scenes to write, because there is so much text that it is difficult to handle often, and keeping a pleasant pace, not forgetting ANY DETAIL of what the crew has done, spending time to recall a bit of each and every one of the crew members and, at the same time, giving a glimpse into the mind of the character from whose perspective it is written is a real CHALLENGE. However, here @Quinn Reynolds and @Jo Marshall do it EXCELLENTLY and not only that, but with some of the most beautiful and evocative descriptions I've read in a while. A sample of their greatness as writers, as gorkon staff, and as people as a whole. Wonderful work, my congratulations to Em & Em and, by extension, to all the crew of the Gorkon! Part I Part II

welcome to the fleet

I love when there is a bit of worldbuilding around alien spacies we barely have two hints about. Couple it with some insight of a character a mystery unfolding and i'm here eager for more. Good job @Bryce Tagren-Quinn ((Personal Quarters, USS Gorkon)) Getting lingering to do’s checked off the list was a great feeling. The long-awaited counseling session with Doctor Randall via secure subspace transmission went without a hitch. They talked about his transition to the Gorkon and how he felt about future sessions with the counseling team on the ship. While Bryce had shared his reservations, Randall had indicated what he felt was normal; which, of course, they both knew. Before he could dwell on the conversation even further, another one blinked for his attention as he sat at the edge of his bed. Glancing at the PADD, he pressed the key to accept in the incoming call and quickly adjusted his hair, knowing the woman on the other end would pick up on infinitesimal details. A few seconds elapsed before she appeared on the screen; her eyes, an unnatural vibrant green, and her hair a fiery shade of red. Her skin was pale and smooth. Long earrings dangled from her dainty ears; a bold, banded agate necklace hung in a 20 inch drop. Her clothes, airy and almost robe-like, made of silk and chiffon, floral and loud. He put on his best smile; not too forced, though, or else she would ask probing questions right out of the gate. She was an eccentric woman, a deeply insightful one. It was almost… scary. Lelian: Bry, you are looking well. His grandmother, a full-blooded El-Aurian and survivor of the SS Lakul. She was likely over 500 years old but didn’t look a day over… 25? She was a mystery to him, even if they have had some interactions over the years. It was… just still mind-boggling to him sometimes. Tagren-Quinn: Thanks, so are you. How have you been? And they chatted about little things, nothing in particular. He figured she was just checking in on him but he also knew that Lelian wasn’t one to call without purpose. Maybe she genuinely wanted to see how… Lelian: You have another El-Aurian on the ship, don’t you? Bryce blinked, confusion etched across his features. Tagren-Quinn: Um, what… why would you ask… Lelian: Oh, nevermind. It’s my mistake. But tell me… have you found your place to exist? Her intense, penetrating gaze locked onto his eyes as she said it, and Bryce could have sworn—his abdominal muscles clenched violently, and he had to turn his head and blink back tears as stomach acid reached up his esophagus and burned into his throat. He coughed into a balled up hand. Tagren-Quinn: Ex-excuse me? Blinking rapidly at the screen, he saw her eyebrow arch. Lelian: On the Gorkon, I mean. Have you settled in? Tagren-Quinn: Yes… Lelian: So, you’ve found your place to exist? And again, it happened but this time Bryce was able to reach for his wastebasket. It took him a moment to compose himself, wiping the back of his hand along his lips before his gaze reached Lelian’s on the monitor once again. That look. She had the smuggest look on his face. Like she knew a secret. Like she was on the cusp on some grand discovery. What the hell did… Lelian: I knew it. Tagren-Quinn: What… what are you talking about? Lelian: Af-Kelt1. Tagren-Quinn: Half Celt? What… what does that mean? All she did was smile and shake her head. Lelian: We’ll talk again soon, vea-nevra2. And that was that. The communication ended abruptly. The doctor just sat there, blinking and staring at his floor, processing the exchange in total, utter confusion. He dumped the contents of his wastebasket into the recycler before setting his PADD on the nightstand, brushing his teeth, and moving into the living space where Ensign Martin Watson was. Tagren-Quinn: Hey Martin, how was your day? Bryce strolled over to the replicator but made sure to offer a small smile, even if his mind was preoccupied. Watson: Response Tagren-Quinn: Sickbay was busy but… you know, a day in the life. Just had a few calls I wrapped up on. He threw a thumb over his shoulder. Hence the sequestering in his bedroom. Watson: Response Tagren-Quinn: Crackers, saltine. Ginger tea, hot, lightly sweetened. The order was placed in the replicator and, in a matter of seconds, the items appeared before him. He took a nibble on a cracker and sipped on the tea, planting himself at the table in the process. Tagren-Quinn: How… how have you been settling in? This time, with the cracker and tea easing his raging stomach, Bryce’s smile was a bit more clear though the fact, the irony that he had been asked the same question by his grandmother was not lost on him. Watson: Response OOC: 1af-kelt →a form of time sickness unique to El-Aurians, often because of a time disturbance or an echo of their own future. 2vea-nevra → unknown; believed to be a term of endearment, perhaps between a grandparent and grandchild. -- Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn, M.D. Medical Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) T238909AT0

welcome to the fleet!

thank you so much for all the time and effort put in this! It's a blast every year thank for you! (even if @Genkos Adeawas so mad that we were in the verge of cut them in the middle of the full thing )

Congratulations!

The MAYHEM @Tahna Meru 😂 ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Gorkon)) Gorkon bingo. What a concept. Get into a little trouble, have a little fun...try not to get demoted. They approached the doors, and Meru looked at her friend. For purposes of this assignment, using tricorders to keep tabs on nearby crew almost felt like cheating, so they’d been left behind. “Standard sensor checks,” that was their excuse if they got caught. The women shared a nod, and opened the doors—with the ship in dock, the bridge was blessedly empty, but they knew it might not stay that way for long. There was always some security officer around keeping tabs, and a whole shift ready to take over the bridge at a moment's notice. But for now, for at least a few minutes, they had the bridge all to themselves. It was almost too easy, and that made Meru nervous, but she didn't let it show, instead projecting an air of supreme confidence. Tahna: Step one clear. Time to bring in the operative. Ena stood at attention, in the typical Bajoran military fashion, and making Meru giggle with her salute. Ico: Aye aye, sir! They’d enlisted the help of a massive dog bone to convince CC to wait in a Jefferies tube that led to the bridge. Now, they just had to get the uniform on, sit her in the Captain's chair, and take a picture. Simple. Tahna: To the tube! Ena squealed, and the girls moved to the Jefferies tube outlet. Meru opened the tube's hatch on the bridge, calling into it in a sing-songy voice. Tahna: Cheeeeesecaaaaake! Ico: Come here, puppy! Come here CC! Watanabe: Borrobork! Cheesecake’s bark echoed through the tube, but there was no sign of movement. Just the squeak of a giant dog bone rubbing against tooth and metal as an equally giant dog broke it into pieces. The Bajorans shared a glance. Ico: I think she doesn't want to leave the tube Tahna: Why? I thought she would just come when called. It’s occurring to me that I don’t really understand how dogs work. Ico: I don't know, maybe the bone we have replicated is just too good? Maybe we should go in and look for her. Another shared glance, and Meru began shaking her head, knowing what Ena was thinking before she even said it. Too much mischief had been accomplished together to not understand what that look meant. Ico: I think I'm too tall to fit there.... hummm why don't you go inside? You can grab the bone or the CC collar, and I'll pull your feet from here to get you both out. Tahna: You are barely taller than me. ::She held up her two fingers, barely separated, to illustrate the difference.:: A smidge! Ico: Well, do you have a better plan? Tahna: Replicate another bone? But why would CC want this bone when she already had one in the tube? Meru frowned at the dark green carpet, sighed, and looked back to the tiny Jefferies tube. Tahna: Alright. Fine. But you better not drop me this time, or I’ll see your rotation in security is doubled! Could she do that? She had no idea, actually, and there was a good chance they’d both be doing unpleasant jobs for the next month if they didn’t hurry up and were caught. Detail cleaning test tubes with a sonic toothbrush, scrubbing the transporter pads…who knew what the appropriate punishment was for sitting a dog in the Captain’s chair. Though there weren’t any strict rules against it as far as she knew (because hadn't needed to be), just…it wasn’t exactly professional or appropriate. Ico: Response Meru crawled into the tube head-first, not having to go very far before she ran into the big dog and her dog breath and dog slobber and…dogs were best experienced in less cramped quarters, she decided. Room with more air to breathe and disperse the dog odors. Tahna: Hi, CC. Come on, now. Watanabe: Response She grabbed the dog’s bone in one hand, her collar in the other, and waved the wet, slobbery, gross bone just out of Cheesecake’s reach. Yeah, dogs were definitely better experienced out of the Jefferies tubes in the open. Tahna: Okay, pull me up! And please don’t drop me, she silently added, as she felt the hands gripping her ankles. Ico: Response When they emerged into the twilight of the early morning bridge, Meru dropped the slobbery bone on the carpet, wiped her hand on her pants, and rolled over onto her back. She took several deep, blissfully dog-breath free breaths, eyes closed, before sitting up and looking at her friend. Her friend, who looked so smug to have not been the one dropped down the tube in pursuit of the hound. Tahna: Get that uniform on her and get her in the chair, quick! Ico/Watanabe: Response ((OOC: Leaving room for you to expand here as you wish, since I jumped a bit to catch up to the Addison sim.)) After begging, bribing, and wrestling the massive dog into the uniform (and using up more of their precious time), Captain Cheesecake Watanabe was born. Meru helped situate the dog in the chair (glad to have thought to bring a lint roller to clean up the mess afterward). She looked at Ena and giggled. Tahna: Captain Watanabe on the bridge! Ico/Watanabe: Response They had almost gotten away with it. Almost got in and out without being spotted, almost checked off a square on Gorkon bingo without facing any repercussions, almost broken FedNet and Baj-gram in one fell swoop. If it weren’t for a single meddling crewman (who, to be fair, wasn’t meddling so much as doing his job, but nonetheless…). Addison: Whuh… ::He had to work to get the words past his dry tongue:: What are you doing?! His PADD clattered to the floor, his mouth hanging open like he was trying to catch liccie bugs. Meru stared at the PADD, trying to buy time to think of an appropriate excuse. “Sensor checks” was their plan if they were caught without the dog, but with the dog… She frowned. The PADD was set up in word processor mode—he was writing something, and not a report. Ico: Response Addison: But… You’re not supposed to b...be here. And that… dog really isn’t supposed to be here! Tahna: Cheesecake Watanabe is a member of the counseling staff, she’s not just any dog. Ico: Response He finally noticed his PADD, forgotten on the floor, and retrieved it, seeming embarrassed. Good. That writing was their bargaining chip. Addison: What are you doing anyway? Right, time for the excuse. He may or may not be interested in Gorkon bingo, but he surely would have some sympathy for creative expression, given his apparent writing on duty. Meru cleared her throat and stood at attention, locking eyes with the helmsman. She let confidence drip from her voice, confidence she didn’t feel but had gotten quite adept at faking. Tahna: Cheesecake Watanabe is a member of the Gorkon’s counseling staff, and belongs to Lieutenant Alieth, Chief Science Officer. We were making a birthday card for Alieth, to show our appreciation to her as our department chief. Birthday card for Alieth? Maybe she should have spent a little longer coming up with an excuse. Though Alieth seemed to have a mischievous streak herself, so maybe this was exactly the sort of birthday card she’d appreciate. That was happening soon, wasn’t it? Ico/Addison/Watanabe: Response Tahna: We were already planning to clean up after ourselves, you don’t need to worry about any of that. It’ll be like we were never here. And, if you need someone to provide feedback on your…story…I like to read. She raised an eyebrow, offered a hint of a smile. The last sentence toed the line between a friendly offer and a threat, though she definitely meant it to be more friendly; neither of them were operating exactly within their specified job parameters tonight, it seemed. Ico/Addison/Watanabe: Response -- Lieutenant (j.g.) Tahna Meru Science Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) G239801TM4

Congratulations!

Ah boy super well deserved! Nice work you guys, you made an incredible round this year!

I love @Bryce Tagren-Quinn 's descriptive capacity and how she unravels parts of her character's character in each sentence. Not to deny that the interaction between these two is always a joy. Great job! ((Outside the office of Lieutenant Fortune, Deck 7, USS Gorkon)) There were some awkward pleasantries, some gruff and puff and, surprisingly, an apology – all in that exact order that fine, tiresome morning in the counselor’s waiting room. Bryce was taken aback for a moment by the Tellarite’s openness but didn’t want to make a big deal over it. He was just doing his job. The fact that he cared deeply about the outcomes of all of his patients wouldn’t flow to the surface like high viscosity lava. With this particular patient (fellow crew member – not just patient), though, it was just best to let things fly and remain steadfast in approach. He’d give the details about the upcoming visit to the lovely little surgical suite right in between the eyes. Tagren-Quinn: The surgery this morning will be quick. I was able to look through your scans last night and the debridement should only take less than twenty minutes. In fact, you will likely feel some immense relief right after. We’ll use some of the tools to promote healing to the area, so you shouldn’t have any breakthrough bleeding. And, it was true. Getting a fresh look at the scans did reveal an alternate method that would shave time in the operating room, and a usage of a variety of instruments would yield optimal results. It was always, always a good idea to reexamine things before diving in and consulting other physicians before proceeding. That’s why doctors weren’t replaced 100% by fancy equipment and technology. Sometimes looking beyond the scans and standard recommendations was necessary. It was a little more involved than just that. Tzim-Shah: That doesn't sound half bad, actually. Tagren-Quinn: I’m not going to lie, recovery will take a few days but we’ll be able to get you in a compression garment and start some desensitization probably in about a week. Before you know it, you won’t have to see my baby face anymore. No more sickbay. That’ll be your motivation, Ensign. He grinned over at the other man, tusks and beard prominent, and was surprised by the laugh that genuinely came from him. They both looked like hell, if he was being honest, but they truly had an excuse. Might as well embrace things as they were. A stretch of silence reemerged though and Bry watched as the Tellarite’s eyes shifted towards the counselor’s closed door before fidgeting some more. Tzim-Shah: So, Doc... The crazy engineer... is she joining in? They would get to that question eventually. Bry opened his mouth to answer but settled with a head shake. He watched the variety of emotions transform Shah’s face. Tagren-Quinn: I believe that it would have been an endeavor she was ready for but she, unfortunately, got called away to other matters. Tzim-Shah: I guess that makes sense. And if she has left the Gorkon with the repairs half done, she really must have had a good reason. We'll find out sometime why she took her away from here... I suppose. A simple nod was the only response given, but Bry could tell that the other man was fighting with some nerves. Tzim-Shah: How about dragging Commander Reynolds into this? Commander Reynolds? That didn’t compute, but he was still getting acquainted with everyone on the ship. Was this person related to the Admiral? Or... The doctor felt his face twist a bit, and the Tellarite picked up on it and offered an explanation. Tzim-Shah: I mean Erin Reynolds, not Quinn Reynolds. The one of the plants, not the skipper. After all, she's an engineer too... like the Admiral, but we don't bother the Admiral with little things, do we? Ahhh. The comment made Bryce smirk. Tagren-Quinn: No, but… He sat on that information for a moment, processing it, shifting on one foot and then the other while his vision wandered to the floor. He wondered but figured he’ll find out more later. A beat passed before he glanced back up to Shah, his blue eyes looking at him expectantly under bushy brows. Can’t keep a Tellarite waiting or else… Tagren-Quinn: …I’ve not met the Commander yet but it’s definitely worth exploring, asking. There was an added piece of as long as he was comfortable but it was Shah’s suggestion after all. He wouldn’t have brought it up if he hadn’t been. Tzim-Shah: Response Tagren-Quinn: Yes, let’s plan on it. We’ll get the surgery checked off the list first and I’ll then see if I can track down Commander Reynolds. No need to rush into it, but they would need to take preliminary steps, make contact, and then think about the groundwork. One step at a time. Tzim-Shah: Response A device on Bry’s wrist dinged and he raised his arm to check it. Tagren-Quinn: Ah, yes. Right, so I should get on to Sickbay and get things prepped. Tzim-Shah: Response -- Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn, M.D. Medical Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) T238909AT0

I KNEW you'll catch that's the mood i aiming for, you're a STAR!

I think Cory's enjoyment of this sim as well as its writer Mike's percolates through the text and is a joy to read, good job @Cory Stoyer ! ((Outskirts of Yarista, Palanon)) Cory quickly got the handle of the quick little speedster. The terrain zoomed by in a blur. Cory’s grin was getting broader as they flew together. But Cory had one thing that needed to change. Stoyer: =/\= I do have one request. Call me Cory. We are friends, Alieth. =/\= There was a delay in her answer. It was possibly due to the terran racing back. Alieth: =/\= That is important to me. Thank you mister... :: She stopped mid-sentence, force of habit causing the wrong name to roll off her lips before she could catch herself up:: Thanks, Cory.=/\= Cory smiled inside his helmet. Stoyer: =/\= You are welcome, Alieth. =/\= Cory was thoroughly enjoying this. The pastures were a green blur, birds flapped away, probably squawking madly. Cory couldn’t hear them. The pair came upon a herd of… Cory thought for a moment, to remember. Pronghorn impalas, that was their name. Alieth and him herded the group in front of them for a while, then they were surrounded by the herd. Even over the noise of the engine, Cory heard the thundering of their hooves. Alieth: =/\= I do not have an abundance of friends in Starfleet, as it is not easy for me to get along properly with non-Vulcans, and my acquaintances and friends on the Gorkon are... even fewer. So I really treasure to count you among them.=/\= Cory listened to Alieth as the herd left them finally and the pair sped up. Alieth: =/\= It is all the more important after... everything that happened. Not just because of what I did to you. ::She lifted a hand off the handlebars to placate any protest he might make.:: But because it was a difficult mission, and she tried her best to do it. I would not have wanted any other officer by my side.=/\= Alieth: =/\= Well, maybe just Jo, and mostly because she would bring coffee...and she would have put her brother in line.=/\= Cory barked a laugh into his helmet. As much as he loved Jo, he didn’t think even she could keep Commander Marshall in check. Stoyer: =/\= Well, I don't know if anyone can keep Commander Marshall in check. Yes, Alieth it was a very difficult mission. The visions, having Petra there and everything. =/\= Alieth: =/\= Well, I will take your word for it, as you know the crew far more than I do. How long, by the way =/\= Cory smiled again, he realized what Alieth was trying to do. Having seen her bowling and trying to win, Cory wasn’t falling for it. He kept an eye on her and the terrain. Stoyer: =/\= I’ve been on the Gorkon since she was commissioned. Over 6 years now. =/\= Alieth: =/\= I see, I guess that time of service will have prepared you for the... unforeseen events. =/\= Cory watched as Alieth did something and then bounced into the air as the hill they were on gave way to a ravine. Cory hit the brakes and skidded to a stop. He stopped at the edge of the ravine. He saw Alieth land on the other side. Cory headed back a ways and turned around. Gunning the engine he flew toward the edge and repeating the same thing Aleith did, Cory bounced into the air and easily cleared the ravine. Stoyer: =/\= Nice job, Aleith. =/\= Alieth: =/\= Response. =/\= Cory opened the throttle wide open in an effort to catch her. She had a good bit of a head start. Grinning like a kid with a new toy, he blasted after her. Stoyer: =/\= Alieth, just so you know, I would follow you on another away mission anytime. =/\= Alieth: =/\= Response =/\= Lieutenant Cory Stoyer Helm/Comms/Ops Officer USS Gorkon C239111CS0

This vulcan is actually impresed by her logic display @Ayiana Sevo, send M'Rish to Sciences depts as trainee!

Call medical! We need a new round after the Taniwha

I was catching up reading some sims today and looking for a reference in an "old" sim i've found again this piece of gold. Thanks @Jo Marshallfor let me feel the existential dread of being inside Peek's bain. His fears are now my own. ((Main Engineering, USS Gorkon)) Standing beneath the warming blue glow of the warp drive, Robert Peek looked up into the swirling mass of twisting and mixing fluids within the intermix chamber. His hand stilled their work on the console, his mind moving from thoughts of breakfast croissants consumed in a hurry that very morning, to the existential questions plaguing his life at every given moment. How was he? How was he really? Memories of dead friends haunted his waking hours, those he had seen on Deck 8 and hoping Chris nor Vorin were one of the many or the quantity of the deceased they had evacuated from the ship during the time spent Over There. How could he describe the very fabric of his being? He was Robert Peek. Engineering Yeoman. Crewman. Surviving a daily struggle to maintain order in chaos. The anguish and the turmoil, the passion and the failure. Feeling at once so profoundly connected to all the hearts and minds on board the ship, in the galaxy, in the universe, and so painfully, artfully alone. Did free will exist, or was every action predetermined? His essence, rendered inert, in the tomb of his own mind. Chaos-driven quantum energy processes comprised consciousness. The fundamental meaning of potentiality, and of themselves, was insight. Walking the narrative was being one with it. He was at a fork on the path between coherence and suffering. Humans had interacted with the cosmos through electromagnetic forces throughout history. Humanity had nothing to fear. But was humanity on the cusp of fulfilment within the fragile consciousness of an everlasting universe, or were they perpetually doomed to repeat the same mistakes on a constant, centrifugal cavalcade of destruction? Could people really change, or was everyone doomed to stay the same? Did those who loved him really love him, or did they simply love who they thought he was? The question simple and yet so vastly complicated. Eons from then, those messengers would believe like never before as they are aligned by the infinite. A celestial symphony of subatomic light meridians to sow the seeds of cooperation rather than slavery. His existence essentially an evolving reinvention of pranic nature. He was primordial. This life was nothing short of an invocation evolution of advanced energy. They healed, they lived, and they were reborn as stardust in the ever-changing galactic dance. How should he navigate this angelic solar system? Electrical impulses from the cosmos summoned him. Could he hear them? A soft beep elicited from the console beneath his fingertips and Peek looked down to the alert delivered through the computer system. Peek: Right, ::he smiled, signing out,:: time for lunch. -- Crewman Third Class Robert Peek Engineering Yeoman simmed by Commander Jo Marshall First Officer USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 G239304JM0

Welcome to the fleet @Philomena O. ! And congrats

Welcome to the fleet! Hope you have a blast here

Awesome work @Corliss! Well deserved. Also, well done everyone! Such amazing stories this year!

Following her tradition for the third year in a row, Alieth attended the ceremony in a Vulcan-designed dress. This year, however, in contrast to the traditional Chi-ree models she usually preferred, she has opted for a dress created by Kawarda of T'Paal, a revolutionary couturier from the shores of the Voroth Sea. Following T'Paal's traditions, this is a long dress set with hundreds of semi-precious stones, black and gold, in a technique known as og-tanaf, a complex style of embroidery with string laced with sehlat vibrissae. And yet, it features a dramatic bare-shoulder neckline, a common design on the temperate Voroth coast, but absolutely inadvisable in the continental areas, one that would elicit more than a few raised eyebrows in the traditional desert cities, and which has earned Kawarda the nickname of a disturber of peace and convention. Last but not least, she complements the dress with an IDIC of vintage design, possibly a family heirloom.

I was rereading this sim and this has made me laugh another time, surely deserves a spot here @Vylaa !

Welcome to the fleet

Pretty sure SHOULD be a rule about it @Samira Neathler, it will save us all of a lot os trouble 😂

I love sims with wordbuilding, with delicate and wonderful descriptions and smooth, seamless scene pacing and @Tahna Meru gives us a wonderful example here, polishing his prose and taking us into an alien world through her character's eyes without leaving out the ins and outs of what's going on in Meru's head while adding so much to keep the scene going in a wonderful example of collaborative writing. Great work Eris! ((Festival Grounds, Yarista, Palanon)) The two Bajoran women sat on the grass in the dark park, untouched by the lights of the city. It was like a bit of wilderness in the midst of the technologically advanced city. Every single pebble, every solitary blade of grass, was arranged in a perfect mimicry of the untouched natural environment—or maybe it wasn’t a mimicry at all, and this park had never been tamed by the Tyrellians. It was so serene, not even the tiny hunting griffins could disturb the peace as they chased down the violet fireflies. Meru laughed as she teased Ena about her crush, before leaning back on her elbows, her mind a quadrant away as she seriously pondered her friend's question. What promise would she make if she were Ena? What promise would Meru have made on her cadet cruise? Work hard, get a good Ensign placement, make friends? But those were all things Ena was proving successful at already. Tahna: I– ::She started to answer then stopped herself, a thoughtful frown settling on her face.:: I’m not sure, Ena. I feel like you’re lightyears ahead of where I was on my cadet cruise. I mean, you’re on a flagship, and that placement has very little to do with any recommendation I gave you. Ico: :Quick and :incoherently::Well, but you helped or I was lucky or... more just...unlucky with all the Darime thing, and Ryan spoke for me, too, and... well if I just... Tahna: I think if I were you, I would promise to be more sure of myself. Don’t second-guess your qualifications, your knowledge, your contributions. You deserve to be here just as much as anyone else. Ico: I don’t know if-… ::She paused and bit her lip. :: Nearby, a Tyrellian couple was also preparing for the festival. They spread a blanket out on the wild grass, marking out a place for themselves in the park as it began to get crowded. Bajorans and Tyrellians alike carried lanterns, some homemade, some bought from the vendors. They set up picnic blankets and folding chairs and laid back on the grass to watch the fireflies and griffins dance overhead, the light from the little insects painting the evening sky in pinks and purples. But Ena wasn’t looking at this marvelous scene so much as through it, her eyes a thousand suns away even as she watched the intricate predator-prey aerial dance of the native wildlife. Ico: I'll do it, I promise. Meru withdrew a calligraphy brush and a small pot of ink from her bag. She certainly wasn’t artistically talented, but she had a steady enough hand to draw a prayer sigil on her lantern. The question remained, what blessing would she ask for herself? It was strange to be in this position, no respected Bajoran elder to offer a blessing on her behalf, to guide her in what to say. She wasn’t entirely alone, though; she had a respected friend whose advice she could ask. Tahna: In Kashnar, usually the matriarchs inscribe blessings for their children. I’ve never had to come up with my own before. ::She turned to her friend, twirling the brush in her fingers.:: What blessing would you ask for me? Ico: What? Ru I-I am not a matriarch, how would I know what to write? Tahna: You’re a respected friend, your opinion is worth just as much as my mother’s right now. More, actually, considering just how tense Meru’s relationship with her mother had become. Ico: ::blushing once more:: Hush you! Meru smiled. Even with the sadness of remembering home, she was glad to be celebrating a Bajoran holiday on such a large scale again—actually, this celebration seemed much larger than the ones in her hometown. There’d been smaller celebrations at the Academy, of course, hosted by a local vedek, but he was from the forests of Hedrikspool, and his celebrations were entirely different, with candles in place of lanterns. Now, in her new home, it felt…right to make her own traditions again. Finally, Ena took Meru’s lantern. Ico: If I were a matriarch, which I'm not, and I had to give you a blessing.... Ena took a fine brush from her own set began carefully tracing the complex Bajoran glyphs on Meru’s lantern while the older girl watched. Ico:...If I should give you a blessing I would say may the land always make a path before your steps, may the wind always blow at your back, may the sun always shine warm on your face, and may the Light of the Prophets always shine on you, bringing the same warm light that you give to those around you. Ena dotted the final glyph and returned the lantern, the dark ink drying quickly in the gentle breeze. Meru admired the lantern, and smiled at her friend. Tahna: You’re too kind. Ico: Well, I think you deserve it, after all, you're great Meru! I wouldn't be here without you. Tahna: Hey, didn’t I just tell you to be more sure of yourself? Besides, there’s plenty I’m not great at. Ico: Tell me that at the end of the year, Lieutenant Tahna, when you'll be giving me orders like... Hey, look, it has begun! A gong sounded, drawing the crowd’s attention to a small group of vermilion-robed Vedeks. They processed from the near end of the park to an altar, carrying lanterns and candles, and the park fell into a reverent silence as they watched. Meru caught her friend’s eyes with a quick smile, before turning her attention back to the procession. When they reached the altar, the Vedeks circled it. Each stepped forward to light one of the candles on the altar. Then, as one, they began reciting a prayer in Bajoran, their voices echoing through the park. They spoke of the Occupation, of the loneliness of leaving one’s home, of the darkness individuals often battled; and then of the light of every individual’s pagh, the power of every individual being to make the world a little bit lighter. Ico: Response With one final blessing, the Vedeks dispersed throughout the crowd, lighting the lanterns of each onlooker they passed, though everyone was waiting to release their lanterns and prayers until the end. Meru turned to her friend with a small smile now as they waited in turn, the crowd now filling the silence with a hushed murmur. Tahna: May you bring light wherever you go, Ena. A traditional greeting for others during ital’mara¹ (back in Kashnar, at least). The expected response back home would be, “and may you find light wherever you roam,” but it was likely another example of how their traditions differed. The same festival could look so different on the other side of the continent (now, even on the other side of the cosmos), and that was part of its beauty. Ico: Response Tahna: What else did you write on your scroll? Unless it’s too personal. Ico: Response ¹ Bajoran: Festival of Lights