Alcyone Brennan
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Posts posted by Alcyone Brennan
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This definitely was fun to write, even if I felt really really sorry for Liz. Looking forward to the mission, it’ll be awesome!!
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I adore how @EgilRenot is investing time and creative energy into his PNPC Doctor Zumagi (who, by the way, is one of my favourite characters on Ops) and how the character is dealing with the aftermath of the last mission. Well done Egil! I am looking forward to reading more!
Quote((Ivin and Nivox's Quarters - Starbase 118))
Ivin knew well enough the struggles of being a trauma surgeon. Hebhas had patients die on him too many times too counter. He's operated under fire and in horrible scenarios. He's seen so much gore and blood, it doesn't phase him anymore.
The Bajoran man has seen truly gruesome mining accidents where there was very little remains left. He's seen people have completed severed parts of their body. He's seen complete hysteria and panic. He's seen people utterly calm, accepting their fate as they bleed out under the surgeon's hands. He's seen children and the elderly, youth and adults all alike. He's had to tend to his own wounds before helping the others. The dull ache of where a mining gun chassis impaled his legs during an earth tremor in an Occupation mine reminded him of that incident.
Red iron scented blood was all too familiar to him. He knew its consistency, its smell and even how it tasted. He was unfamiliar with the green copper blood. He was now, however. He never wished to be so intimately familiar with the inside workings of a Romulan ever again. Not because he disliked Romulans, no. Ivin held nearly all species as equals; they were all his patients.
His revolt was based on the shredding of the Praetor's flesh and organs by the shrapnel. The grey toned organs were scattered with the gleaming shards like some kind of sick, twisted glitter thrown in there by a murder happy child.
Ivin found himself outside his quarters he shared with his husband. He was so lost in his mind he couldn't even recall getting here. He rested his hand on the door before unlocking it and stepping inside. He was greeted by the smells of hasperat and droli biscuits. Two of his favourite Bajoran foods that Ivin would normally drool over.
The door shut silently behind him. His knees buckled and his back pressed against the door as he slid down onto the floor. He could still smell the damn copper.
The explosion of the grenade and the screams of the injured and dying rang endlessly through his head. He saw nothing but the assassin's bloodthirsty and rage twisted face leering as he came at them with the intent to kill. He could still smell seared flesh and that damn copper blood.
Ivin pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, scrunching his eyes shut tightly. He clenched his jaw, his entire body shook and trembled as he fought back an unbridled wave of emotions, fueled by trauma and exhaustion. He saw green behind his closed eyes.
Ivin met out a choked sounding sob, raspy and broken. He doesn't recall the last time he broke down like this. It had been many years.
Once the tears started, the doctor couldn't stop them. He utterly lost control, hysterically sobbing into his hands as he was sitting on the floor.
This got Nivox's attention. The older Cardassian came out of the kitchen area, seeing his husband on the floor. He hurried over and knelt down in front of him, resting a hand on the back of his head, the other arm slid around his back as he pulled his husband into his arms. He said nothing, just holding Ivin as the Bajoran clutched onto him and sobbed into his chest.
Eventually, Ivin ran out of energy and momentum to cry, calming down to quiet sniffles, still latched onto his husband. Nivox leaned back to look at Ivin's face, his expression full of love and care. He lifted a hand to brush away Ivin's tears.
Drasa: I've set out fresh clothes for you. Go and shower and we will sit and eat.
He knew better than to ask him about the surgery at this moment. He knew Ivin needed some time and normalcy before he would talk.
Ivin closed his eyes momentarily, accepting the tender and loving touch. A small ghost of a smile graced his face, tilting his head to give Nivox a tender kiss.
Zumagi: Thank you my love, exactly what I need right now.
Ivin got up to his feet, albeit a bit shakily. He helped Nivox up to his feet as well before giving him another kiss.
Zumagi: I will be back in a bit
Drasa: Of course, my love.
Nivox smiled as he accepted and returned both kisses. He stood where he was watching Ivin's shaky steps towards the bathroom. His smile dropped and faded into an expression of worry as soon as he heard the door close.
He took a shaky breath himself, heading back to the kitchen area to finish making the hasperat. The peaceful life they had once on Bajor and Deep Space 9 was no more. He worried Starfleet would be the death of them both. He wouldn't have it any other way though; they were accepted and felt at home here. He spoke softly to himself.
Drasa: What did we get ourselves into, my dearest one?
-END-
PO1 Ivin Zumagi
Trauma Surgeon
StarBase 118 Ops
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Loved it!!
my one piece of criticism is that it ended too soon - sounds like you’re having an cool mission going on!
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Thank you! Special thanks to @Talos Dakora who helped me write the explosive more... explosive! You're... wait for it... the bomb.
I'll see myself out.-
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As someone who draws stickfigures and does mockups she then gives to people with actual talent to turn into something awesome, I love this! It's a cool little piece of art, but if I am totally honest, what sold it was your explanation. The topic of rebuilding is something that has always fascinated me, and maybe that's why I love the post-war Cardassia stuff so much. I like that you put this into the context of a colony we do not get a follow up on, and I agree - I like to think that they rebuild their homes and lived happily ever after (or until the next disaster. This is Star Trek, after all).
Thanks for sharing! ❤️ -
I have not yet had the pleasure of writing with @Anthony Meeks yet, but I wanted to highlight this scene in particular. AIne's frustration is something I honestly expected her to keep her mouth shut about (and gulp down with a bottle of whiskey), and it was a surprise to see her actually articulate it. At the same time, it says a lot about Green that he looks out for her. He's a bro, and I love that!
Quote((C.O.’s Office, Starbase 118))
When he arrived on the station, Lt. Commander DeVeau had offered him actual quarters but he hadn’t had time to consider them. Well, after the last couple of days were over, and he finally had a moment to stop, he took her up on her offer. It had been about 34 hours since he last slept, so he grabbed a quick shower to wash off the dust and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
When he woke, he stirred briefly in the new bed and it took him a moment to orient himself to where he was. This wasn’t unusual considering the nomadic life he had led in the Corps. It always took a second or two. Shaking the cobwebs off, he sat up and swung his feet over the side, feeling the low carpet under his bare feet. He made little fists with his toes, gripping the low shag between them. He asked for the computer to turn on the lights.
The replicator was across the room and he called for it to make a hot cup of black coffee. It was only a few strides to get there, and in those simple movements, Isaac was awake and starting to feel refreshed. He drew the mug from the orifice in the wall and turned, taking a breathy pull from the top of the steaming cup. On the table, a flashing light caught his eye. His PADD had a pending message from the Commanding Officer of the station, requesting his and Lt. Sherlock’s presence in the C.O.’s office in just a little over an hour.
Isaac dressed in the Marine utility uniform and set out. He would be early, but that was always preferred over late… or even on time. The Marine decks were several hundred decks below the command level towers, and where Commodore Taybrim’s office was, and based upon Isaac’s experience getting around on the station, it could take a minute to get there, and it did.
He had only arrived in the lobby a few minutes before the scheduled meeting time. He found a chair in the lobby and was about to sit down when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned to see Lt. Sherlock crossing the small area. She crossed the room like she knew what she was doing, a woman on a mission, and gave Isaac a quick nod as she approached and passed him. He fell in behind her and she entered the Commodore’s office without pomp or circumstance. He had to admit to himself, he was impressed by the young Security Chief.
The office was large, but what Isaac expected for the Commanding Officer of a large station such as SB118. He expected to have the C.O. at a desk, but was caught a little off guard when he encountered the man standing to greet them. The setting was far less formal than he thought it would be. Isaac stood at attention as the commodore greeted them.
Taybrim: Lieutenant Sherlock, thank you for attending.
He tipped his head to Aine in pleasant greeting, and Aine returned the nod, smiling as best she could.
Sherlock: Welcome back, Commodore.
Taybrim: And Lieutenant Green, I’m sorry that this is our first meeting and I wasn’t able to welcome you on board before this all transpired. But I am glad that you were with us.
Green: Baptism by fire, Sir. It’s good to finally meet you, Sir.
Sal gestured to the seats across from him and the coffee on the table. Aine wasn't much of a coffee person, but right now, the hot bitterness sounded comforting and she poured herself a mug before taking a seat.
Taybrim: I want to start by saying thank you for coming and commending you and your fellow teammates on taking swift and decisive action.
Sherlock: Lieutenant Green here did commendably. As did my new Ensigns in Security.Green: Thank you, Sir. The crew on this station was absolutely incredible, Sir. ::Turning to Sherlock:: Your Security teams were top notch, Lieutenant. That’s testimony to your leadership.
Isaac had gained a lot of respect for Aine and her leadership style. She led from the front, rushing into the fray alongside the newest ensign, prepared to do whatever she needed to do to get the job done. There weren’t many who worked that way. She could have just as easily ran her part of the operation from the I.C.
Taybrim: I understand it was not ideal by any stretch of the imagination. But I also recognize that you and your teams prepared for what we could rationally expect. I think elements of this incident went far beyond expectation.
Green: I would agree, Sir.Aine took a gentle sip of the hot coffee. There was a slight sting on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't care.
Taybrim: Can you tell me what you both felt was the biggest concern or challenge you faced in this incident?Green: The sheer size of the area of operation, Sir. The event spanned multiple areas, creating incidents within incidents, and when communications went down, it was difficult to maintain interoperability and a unified command.
Isaac was reporting as he saw it, knowing the only way to improve for the next event was to learn from the last one. He had learned long ago, what happens in an event was training for the next one.
Sherlock: Secrets, Sir.
Aine’s answer wasn’t what Isaac expected to hear. He couldn’t help but look over at the Security Chief, wondering what she meant.
Taybrim: ?
Sherlock: I feel so many missions in my past, and with this one, there are people who compartmentalize information. And if you objectively look back on what happened, each time, everything could have been stopped had someone just said something.
What she was saying wasn’t incorrect, but in the world of government there is always compartmentalization of information, disseminated to those who need to know when they need to know. Who decides who needs to know is often a mystery to those who don’t need to know. Isaac knew this from experience, but he also understood Aine’s frustration, so he sat quietly while she aired her concerns.
Taybrim: ?
Sherlock: We didn't even need to know everything. We've all seen enough weird ::beat:: stuff...out here. If he'd even said there was a suspected time traveller trying to mess with the timeline, we could have had so much more to go on.
Again, Isaac sat quietly and listened to what Aine had to say. It would have been nice to know exactly what they were dealing with, but in his experience that was never the case, and likely would never be the case in the future. That was the nature of the universe they lived in.
Taybrim: ?
Aine was becoming frustrated, she bit her lip again.
Sherlock: Yes, there are things that are classified beyond certain people's clearances, but not every bit of information is classified or violates Starfleet regulations if it is shared. And frankly, Sir, I've lost twenty crewmates in my time in Starfleet, twenty-one if I count myself being clinically dead on Rin...::she paused knowing she wasn't allowed to speak that name::...I'm tired of people not doing the right thing and others paying for it.
He had listened intently to what Aine was saying, and even agreeing a with her on some level, but he was starting to get concerned for her. He leaned in toward her and whispered to her.
Green: ::In a whisper:: Throttle down, Lieutenant. You’re getting dangerously close to the line.
He could understand where she was coming from. It wasn’t ever easy to be kept in the dark, and when there are casualties that in hindsight could have been prevented if information had flowed down to the boots on the ground, frustration and blame are often the result. Somewhere, somebody could have done something to save lives, but instead hid behind the wall of “it’s classified”. He had seen it before, and would definitely see it again.
Taybrim/Sherlock: ?
Hoping he hadn’t crossed the line, he continued. He had seen many of his compatriots, and friends, over the years ruin their careers by not staying in their lane, and he was worried Aine was about to do that now. He had stood on the same battlefield with her, and he was not about to watch her stomp on her career without saying something about it.
Green: I’m sorry, Sir, but if I may have a moment with Lieutenant Sherlock?
Taybrim/Sherlock: ?
Green: Lieutenant, may I speak to you outside for a moment?
Taybrim/Sherlock: ?
It was awkward as hell, considering he was new to the crew, and the look Aine gave him was cold enough to make him wish he had brought a jacket. Regardless, he couldn’t let her shoot herself in the foot. Standing, he motioned toward the door and followed her out. As soon as the door closed, he spoke.
Green: What the hell are you doing?
Sherlock: ?
Green: To be frank, you were out of line in there. I couldn’t let you shoot your career in the ass.
Sherlock: ?
Tag/TBC
1Lt. Isaac Green
Marine Officer 292 SFMC
Starbase 118 Ops
R238801IG0
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I very much enjoyed reading the ending to our current mission as written by @Alora DeVeau
It's a bittersweet ending to an important part of the character's backstory, and what I like in particular is how well narrated Alora's emotional response is. It really emphasises the gravity of what happened, and makes it all the more admirable that Alora puts her feelings aside and focusses on role responsibilities as acting CO.
Well done! ❤️
Quote((Commercial Center – StarBase 118))
He stood there before them, a manifestation of hatred, face twisted in
unfettered malice. The man was there to kill, to destroy everyone and
everything because all that he loved himself was gone, taken away, and
in its place it had left a rotting corpse of a soul. He was walking
dead, for there was nothing and no one worthwhile to him any longer. It
was the sort of hatred born of excruciating sorrow.
No one mattered. Not her. Not Kalin. Not even himself. All that he
could see was that all around him were gone. He didn’t care if he
destroyed them, the starbase, or, truthfully, all of the galaxy. It was
frightening. And yet, Alora knew he wouldn’t win. He *couldn’t* win.
DeVeau: Time is not on your side!
Nniol: Time is on no one’s side. Death is on my side.
It was true. Time was on no one’s side. It carried on, heedless of
those who were forced to ride in its waves. In times of plenty, in
times of want, in times of joy and in times of sorrow. It was
indifferent to all. And yet time could be twisted, its robes knotted,
and that was exactly what had happened to Kalin - and what Nniol
wanted. And while time watched, dragged on by whatever mechanism the
man had managed to construct to manipulate it, one hand dragged the tip
of the knife across Kalin’s arm.
DeVeau: No!
Alora managed to shove Kalin out of harm's way, avoiding the death
blow. It only angered the assassin more, and he gathered himself
together, ready for another strike. The sound of thunder roared, but it
felt so far away, as if they were under water, the sound muffled and
blurry.
Nniol: This ends now.
Teser: ~ Alora. ~
She heard his voice, the sweet, deep tone of it filled her mind, but it
did not bring solace. Within she could hear an eerie calmness. Somehow,
in the midst of everything, all the world came to a standstill.
Teser: ~ Give me your hand. ~
Her gaze lifted to meet his, emerald and ebony, locked together. His
fingers grazed hers, their hands collapsed, and their thoughts melted
together. Past and present locked in an embrace as the two remained in
the midst of the frozen moment of time.
Their minds touched, danced, merged, two people almost as one. Memories
filled them both, and it didn’t matter the origin. It was them.
Theirs. Their story. Their lives from the minute they had intersected.
He flooded her with his own, she with hers, a river that flowed back and
forth between. Those moments were gone, swept away in the stream of
minutes, hours, days, and years that had passed them by. Those precious
moments, every minute together savoured in that exchange. She
remembered. Every instance. Every breath. Every single second with
him, the belligerence, the sarcasm, the resignation…the eventual shift
that had turned into tenderness. Into love.
But they were in the past, moments that had come and gone, left behind
for they could not linger in the sweetness of the now, for time waited
for no one and trudged onward. Time…twisted and diverged, but even if
they were to go back, it would set course once again and those moments
would slip through like sand through the fingers.
No. She didn’t want to believe that. They were supposed to be together,
to go together, not to relive what had already happened, but to move
forward toward a future with each other, whether it was in the past or
in a time to come. It didn’t matter *when* as long as it was with
*him*. She knew what he was saying, though he did not say it. He
didn’t need to.
She didn’t want him to.
No. She couldn’t let him go. And yet even as they held on to one
another she realised they had to let go. She had to. Again. Forever.
There was no return from this. Not this time. Her chest heaved, a
single sob escaped, and yet she could say nothing. Agonising sorrow
billowed deep within, and yet at the same time an anguished resignation
to the inevitable.
Teser: Come, then.
Their hands parted. Distance separated them. And as the assassin
charged at them, Kalin grabbed the other man’s arm, and then…
Alora turned, her face fallen into stunned impassivity. All around her,
those who existed did so in a state of such sluggishness their movements
could hardly be seen. She turned, the air warbling, warping,
translucent ripples flowing up and down over everyone and everything.
Aine. Willow. She could see them, her own form distorted, jagged and
broken as if the artist of a drawing ran an erase across and smeared the
lines. She turned again, that time back to Kalin, and though she wanted
to run to him, to grab his hand, pull him out and back to her, to keep
him with her, she knew what that would do, and who would also come with
him. That living hatred strained toward her, teeth gritted as he
struggled to break free of Kalin’s grip. A dim light began to grow,
brighter and brighter, almost blinding and forced Alora to take a step
back, one arm thrown up to shield her eyes.
Sherlock: Go for DeVeau!
Willow: ?
She heard the sound of voices, of the women who had come to their aid,
rippled and warbling in the wake of the rift that surrounded her.
Sherlock: Get the Commander to cover!
Willow: ?
In an instant, it all changed. A deep boom resounded and a rolling tide
knocked her to the ground; a clap of thunder echoed, then faded. And as
it all wound down, Alora pushed herself up and whirled around only to
find the place where Kalin had been a moment before empty.
He was gone.
Sherlock/Willow: ?
Alora didn’t respond, their voices off in the distance as her mind tried
to slow down and catch up. Her eyes sought him out, the tall, dark
figure of the man she loved . But he was nowhere. Not there. Not then.
Sherlock/Willow: ?
She finally moved, finally turned her head and let her gaze focus on the
women talking to her. Slowly, almost painfully, she pushed herself to
her feet. Once more, she turned back to that spot, but it was still
empty, they were still gone. He was still gone. And he would never return.
Her stomach heaved, her chest tightened, the knife plunging and
twisting. For a moment, she bent over, hands against her knees as she
took in great gasping breaths, the world spinning around her. Her eyes
closed tightly, cutting it off and she focused on her breathing, one
breath at a time. A little. Then a little more. Finally going all the
way, then letting it all out at once. Her fingers dug into her flesh,
the ache of her grip cut into her consciousness, and the voices of those
with her linked her to the present reality.
It was not a reality she wanted. But it was her reality. And it was a
reality that she could not ignore or escape. She had been there once
before. She was there again. Only this time, it truly was forever.
One. Two. Three. In. In. In.
All out.
Slowly, Alora opened her eyes. Slowly, she lifted her head. Slowly, she
straightened.
DeVeau: I’m all right.
The words were whispered, her voice trying to find its anchor, but still
feeling adrift. The space was still empty. He was still gone.
DeVeau: I’m all right.
Even if she wasn’t, she would have to be.
Sherlock/Willow: ?
Licking her lips, Alora finally dragged her eyes away and settled them
upon the two who were still there. Those who remained behind. Just as
she remained behind.
DeVeau: Secure the area. I…I need to get back to the Embassy.
Without another word, Alora turned and hurried off toward the collapsed
building. She had to move. She had to do something. There was much to
do, and her loss would have to wait. People were hurt, and they needed
help - and she needed to do something. Her stomach roiled, her heart
seared, but she pushed it all aside. There would be a chance to deal
with that later, to contemplate for a second time what had been taken.
For now, she had to face the reality of the here and now, and of the
devastation that had come upon others. Her own sorrow would have to
wait. Time was on no one’s side - especially not hers.
[End scene for Alora]
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This is very neat ❤️
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Thank you! This was a highly interesting character to play and while I am a little sad it's over, I'm happy with how this ending played out.
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I absolutely love this! ❤️ Something I personally adore is seeing more background to Sal, and Jamie is really making the most of the current downtime she has with the character. The parallels between Taron and Taybrim are really well done, and I really enjoy how it ties in with 'global' events and personal history. Unfortunately that means I will keep pestering her for more Sal-Solo-Sims
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Thank you! I very much adore playing Nestira and I think @Solaris was brilliant as Barlowe ❤️
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I like how Arys doesn't even have to be a witch when R'Val is around
@Serala completes me
QuoteDeVeau: He’s in sickbay…but I can’t get through.
Trovek: I understand that not reaching someone can be stressful
R’Val: Just as not being able to reach those trapped under this rubble?
It was a cheap shot, but R’Val’s only concern at the moment was rescuing as many of her people as she could. Commander DeVeau could concern herself with this Kalin if she wished. R’Val had different priorities.
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This was a lovely read ❤️
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loved this bit of reflection from R'Val @Serala
QuoteR’Val: Most definitely. Something like this is not going to be easily overlooked, and my people are hot-tempered. Vengeance is going to be called for, and if I am to be honest, I want it myself. That pig-headed Praetor and his blasé attitude toward the Tal Shiar. That’s what allowed this to happen. And the problem is, too many of us remember when the Tal Shiar was more in the open than they are now. They are not going to be eager to cross the assassin, but blood is going to be expected and called for. Likely on both sides.
She paused, realizing that her own line of thinking was going to be counterproductive in deescalating tensions. She wasn’t sure she wanted to reduce the tensions, but she did owe it to Starfleet to help get things under control. They had agreed to host the talks, so it would be ungracious to allow a full war to break out on their station.
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Quote
J'Lynn: Look at me, Havran. What do you see?
He was a young and passionate woman. One who believed what she said. One who, no matter the future of their separate worlds, was sure to lead hers to a future they sought.s’Rehu: I don't know you. Tell me what I see.
J’Lynn: I am the daughter of a politician. A good man. Under the Empire, our family was unremarkable. We were lucky enough to not be impoverished, but we were kept in our place.
s’Rehu: And now?
J’Lynn: If things had remained the way they were, you and I would likely never have met. I certainly would not have dared speak to you the way I have today.That much was true. No one outside his caste had ever dared even show that much force of character lest they face punishment. But her...she was not afraid, that much he saw on his own.s’Rehu: And what does the Free State not offer you that the Republic does that allows you to do just that?
J’Lynn: In the Republic, I have a chance. A chance to grow, to make a difference. To speak without fear of reprisals against me or my family. Not just me, we all do. That is what we truly want and we want all of you to have it too. To share it with us. A better, happier future, where fear really is just a ghost story. All of the Rihannsu. United. Together.
Havran sat, seemingly emotionless. But inside, something about what J'Lynn had said moved him. It wasn't just the words she spoke, but how she spoke them. With honesty and candor. Coming from a world where no one said what they meant, this interaction was near foreign but believable.-
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I loooooove Sill-con. He's legit the most reasonable of all of us
QuoteSill-con: we mustn't let our assigned duties be lost in the complexity of the situation…
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Arys just glares at people spitefully and hopes they fall own the stairs. Zumagi knocks them out and THROWS them down the stairs. Thank you for defending my sickbay @EgilRenot ❤️
QuoteNniol: Get off me!
Zumagi: Make me.
So he made him.
Nniol used the handle of the knife, driving it hard into Ivin’s solar plexus. Ivin let out a grunt of pain, but didn’t buckle or falter. He didn’t let it affect him at all. He moved quickly, figuring a stab would be coming shortly after. Ivin was surprisingly fast for such a large man, thanks to a small handful of boxing championship titles.
Nniol: damn you…
Ivin bore down heavily on Nniol, swinging punches and aiming kicks at him. He was hell unleashed, like a berserker from ancient human tales. The assassin spun away and tried to shoot at Ivin once again but Ivin blocked his arm with his own, snarling his next wounds.
Zumagi: Get out of my sight, kasvak.
Ivin wound back and aimed a sharp and harsh kick towards Nniol’s chest, sending the other reeling backwards and away from himself. Ivin lifted his phaser and pointed it right at Nniol’s head with an almost deranged and feral look in his eyes.
The assassin was nearly as deranged if not even more so. He lifted his knife and licked the blood off the blade. Ivin was not intimidated or daunted. Hell, Ivin has the exact same thing far in his past.
Tachyons surged around them.
For a moment the fight replayed as time folded in on itself. It was déjà vu, except it really did replay. The moves were slightly different as the two opponents now could predict the moves of the other, having seen them before. Ivin saw all these moves before and reacted with the same ferocity as he was before. He had no idea what was happening, but protecting Foster and the Praetor were his priority.
More shots were fired.
Someone screamed.
And finally, time righted itself as Nniol licked the blade once again.
There was an unpleasantly disorienting static POP and the assassin was sucked back into the same strange time anomaly that deposited him into Trauma Bay 8.
The silence and the confusion was disturbed by Ivin roaring out loudly.
Zumagi: I’m not done with you, bastard! Get back here!
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Why is this so relatable
Quote((Ugly little dive bar – The Dungeon))
This place was ugly.
It was messy, noisy and bleak. It stunk like bottom shelf alcohol and depression. And with the sudden burst of chaos and pain from above, it was also unusually busy for a late afternoon on a random day.
Because was there ever really a better – or worse – time to wallow in the horrible futility of life and drink yourself to oblivion?
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I really enjoy how @Sal Taybrim's writer allows us a peek into Sal's family dynamics, and it was great to see Commodore Taybrim in the role of a younger sibling. Those little things are what makes the character so alive and I can't wait to read more.
Because there is more...
right?
Quote((VIP quarters – USS Della Nova))
(Time index: several days ago, one day before the peace talks were officially moved)Kirin Taybrim was trying very hard to look imperious.
He was also trying very hard not to laugh.
He wasn’t quite sure how the goddesses had blessed his baby brother with the ability to look imperious, and him the eldest of the brothers with merely the ability to look like a lovable teddy bear; but that look wasn’t serving the Chief Medical Officer of the USS Della Nova very well.
So lovable teddy bear it was.
Kirin: I never thought I would have to come down here and scold my baby brother about trying to access classified news feeds in his down time.
Lt Commander McLaren, Doctor Trovek and Doctor Nijil has all given Kirin explicit information that let them know his brother would absolutely put his nose into things while he was off duty for this procedure unless he was completely barred from doing so.
And since Kirin was a Chief Medical Officer recognized on a Starfleet vessel, he had authority to protect his brother from himself.
So he had barred several lines of communication and put it on a medical alert should Sal attempt.
Now to Sal’s credit he had been good for three and a half days. But as they neared Betazed Sal Taybrim had become restless. As if he had read something from Captain Ansa during their morning breakfast.
Terra Prime, making waves on the Romulan borders.
And suddenly his system of alarms flared. And Kirin went doubletime to tend to this personally.
Because his baby brother was a Commodore with clearances beyond what Kirin could dream of – and he had a background in high level computer programming and systems design. It was nearly impossible to keep information out of Sal’s hands if he was intent of getting it.
Sal: It’s really not classified for me…
Kirin lifted a finger and used his ‘Dad’ voice.
Kirin: Sal, you are not a Commodore for the next eighteen days. You are my patient and you are off duty.
Sal thrust his chin in the air with a hint of indignance. There was the baby brother Kirin knew. Stubborn to the end.
He was so much more like their mother than either of them ever wanted to admit.
Sal: And what if there’s a crisis out there?
He gestured towards the window where the stars were streaking by.
Kirin shook his head and sighed, slowly.
Kirin: Sal, there’s always some crisis out there. You’re a flag officer, you know that! That’s why there are hundreds of Starfleet vessels and installations. We eat crises for breakfast.
Sal: ::Impish, with a smirk.:: No you don’t. You like toffa cakes for breakfast.
Kirin shook a finger at him and shook his head.
Kirin: ~not falling for it.~ I do like toffa cakes.
He was chuckling inwardly. Sal, the hyperactive empath, had to know it.
There was the little brother he knew. Charming, humorous, manipulative. As a child he was skilled at using distraction to steer the conversation in a direction of his choosing – usually to get what he wanted.
Kirin was sure he had honed this skill to something mature and dangerous as an adult. Which probably served him well as a negotiator.
But it did not work against Kirin.
Sal: ~falling for what?~. ::oh he was the picture of innocence.:: We should eat some toffa cakes.
Kirin: ~not going to get distracted and leave you with computer access~ We’ll have Myrtos’ toffa cakes when you’re up and about. My treat. Deal?
What was it about the baby of the family that gave them the blessed grace to have the most innocent expressions?
Kirin still wasn’t buying it.
Sal: ~you think I would do that?~ ::a smile:: Sounds like a deal.
Kirin: ~I know you would.~
There was a momentary stare down and both brothers laughed. Kirin’s laugh was fond, empathetic. Sal’s laugh was warm and yet stressed.
And for a moment Kirin felt a wave of the concern, the anxiety, the monumental weight that a flag officer carried on their shoulders.
He sighed and crossed the room to sit down by Sal’s side, resting a hand on his shoulder.
Kirin: You know, if you go looking for bad news, you will find it. That’s how the galaxy works.
Sal leaned back and sighed, letting his shoulders slump.
Sal: Sometimes I feel like I live in a constant stream of bad news. I try to wade through it and pick up the pieces. Make as much good as I can from the bad.
Kirin: ::Gentle:: Maybe you have earned this little bit of time to turn that off.
Sal: ::He gave a dry chuckle:: That doesn’t make me stop worrying.
Kirin: I know. ::He smiled, opting to lean into that big lovable teddy bear aspect:: ~but for once – little brother – will you let me worry about you and let yourself relax?~
Sal tinged slightly pink for a moment and then leaned on the supportive shoulder.
Sal: ~Oh fine. I suppose you have earned it.~
Kirin: ::with humor:: ~You had to just go and get yourself promoted. Over and over again. It was bad enough when I was just a medical officer and you were just a counselor.~
Sal: ~I didn’t exactly intend on it. I just wanted to do right by each mission. And that meant stepping forward and getting stuff done.~
Kirin: ~Funny how that works.~
There was a soft, comfortable silence between the two. Kirin was glad that Sal had requested the Della Nova. He wanted to be here. And he was glad Sal wanted him here.
Kirin: But I am ensuring you don’t have computer access.
Sal: I can be good…
Oh there was that innocent expression again.
Kirin: ::he chuckled:: You had better be. I’m writing up a report card for Doctor Trovek and Commander DeVeau so they can sass you if you’re not. ::his dark eyes sparkled.::
Sal: ::With melodramatic mock-hurt:: That’s blackmail!
Kirin: I love you -little brother- ::he chuckled.::
Sal shook his head and this time he gave a true laugh, one that released stress instead of carrying it.
Sal: I am glad you’re here, Kirin.
They were in agreement there.
Four hours left to Betazed.
Kirin would stay steady and hope for the best.
~*~
tbc…
~*~Commodore Sal Taybrim
Commanding Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
~and~
Lt. Commander Kirin Taybrim
Chief Medical OfficerUSS Della Nova-
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1 hour ago, Sal Taybrim said:
So what you're telling me is I should cancel my plans for making an angty teen movie... >.>
Spoke to the universe. Sal Taybrim against the universe is *exactly* what this is
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"As long as it doesn't explode" - RIGHT?!
Quote((Hard Vacuum - The Borderlands))////LOG START:::::////WARNING: FIRMWARE HAS BEEN MODIFIED. SYSTEM MAY BEHAVE UNPREDICTABLY***TRANSIT COMPLETE: LOITER MODE ENGAGED.******PAYLOAD ARMED: WAITING FOR TARGET ACQUISTION.******PAYLOAD BAY MASKING FIELD STATUS: NOMINAL***
:::::////WARNING: FIRMWARE HAS BEEN MODIFIED. SYSTEM MAY BEHAVE UNPREDICTABLY***DISTRESS BEACON:ACTIVE***---***STATUS: LOITER MODE ENGAGED.******PAYLOAD ARMED: WAITING FOR TARGET ACQUISTION.******PAYLOAD BAY MASKING FIELD STATUS: NOMINAL******DISTRESS BEACON:ACTIVE******PROXIMITY ALERT: VESSEL APPROACHING###VESSEL TRANSPONDER ID:FED/STRFLT: NCC-41903-A/EXCALIBUR***TARGET ACQUIRED: PHONE HOME PROTOCOL ENGAGED**((Cargo Bay 01 - Deck 15 - USS Excalibur-A))////LOG START:::::////WARNING: FIRMWARE HAS BEEN MODIFIED. SYSTEM MAY BEHAVE UNPREDICTABLY***STATUS: TRANSPORTER BEAM DETECTED.******TRANSPORTER FILTER CIRCUMVENTION: CONFIRMED*****DISTRESS BEACON:ACTIVE******PAYLOAD ARMED: TARGET ACQUIRED.******PAYLOAD BAY MASKING FIELD STATUS: NOMINAL******TARGETING SYS. STATUS: LOCATING NEAREST PLASMA CONDUIT###ACCESSING VESTA CLASS SCHEMATIC
:::::////WARNING: CONTAINMENT FIELD DOME DETECTED###DECK 15: HATCH 5: CRAWLSPACE 3[DISTANCE ~20m]***STATUS: DEPLOYING PLASMA PENETRATOR INTO DECKPLATE.******PENETRATION COMPLETE: DEPLOYING PRIMARY PAYLOAD******DEPLOYMENT COMPLETE: 2498 of 2500 SYSTEM DISRUPTOR NANOBOTS DEPLOYED SUCCESSFULLY.***INITIATE AUTO-DESTRUCT***:::::////WARNING: AUTO-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE ARMED
***STATUS: AUTO-DESTRUCT IN 3******STATUS: AUTO-DESTRUCT IN 2******STATUS: AUTO-DESTRUCT IN 1***////LOG END===============MAQUIS DISTRESS BEACONMODEL: DRT-5YMSERIAL: 05125928TJ9STATUS: DESTROYEDAs simmed by:======//////======>
Lt. Talos Dakora
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Excalibur-A
O238811CD0-
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Taybrim: If you want some advice, I was told this by a dear friend when I was a young officer.
He grinned, looking a bit impish. It seemed his advice would be half legitimate and half humorous.
Renot: ?
Taybrim: When you hit JG you need to clear up, look sharp. You’re up and coming. You want everyone to know you mean business. But when you hit Lt Commander start to let it go. By that time you’re a little jaded, a little haggard and you want everyone to know you’ve been around the block a few times.
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Not HOLLY O_O
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Just a perfectly normal shore leave....
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Doz "Gramma" Finch - The Olive Branch
in Appreciations
Posted
This is awesome! Well done!!