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Lieutenant JG Tali Namura - Mind the Anxious Curator, They're Not a Feature

Doz Finch

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I really enjoyed how @Jo Marshall sets the scene here in Yarista City, on Palanon, in the aftermath of the Rogue Planet. The style of the writing, and the acknowledgements of the other characters and their personalities from Namura's point of view.



((Enilus Historical Museum, Field Hospital, Yarista City, Palanon))


Metropolitan giants towered around them; titans of white and silver in the vista of lush green grass and blue skies. Regardless of the natural—or rather, unnatural, as the case may be—disasters that had befallen the beautiful city of Yarista, still it had endured. Shining like a beacon of hope on the darkest night the moon had seen in recent history. 


All throughout Palanon, disaster had wreaked havoc as a rogue planet appearing in their system was wont to do. Earthquakes had ripped through the earth, smashing rock against rock, grinding tectonic plate against tectonic plate, without mercy nor care for anyone who could be caught in the rift. Torrential waves crashed against the shorelines of the cities and villages, tsunamis had escalated from the middle of the oceans, threatening to tear down everything in their wake. Volcanos erupted, sinkholes formed, animals panicked, and the people had swarmed crisis centres, completely unprepared for such a travesty to occur. 


Tali sipped at her tea as she looked out of the window of the museum-turned-critical response centre, at the sheer destruction of the city beyond. Wrapping around the city, the main transport line had ceased in place, unable to progress on the usual circular route, unable to divert around the cracks in the plating or the complete shift in the network. Chunks of it had been carved out and lay broken in pieces, shattered to be repaired. She hoped the erection of emergency transporter networks was underway. 


Once again, she found herself at the epicentre of a tragedy, portable replicators on hand; Starfleet, bold and shining, bright and booted, ready to save the day once more. 


Returning her head to her work, she shook herself out of it and pursed her dark lips as she strode through the large display rooms, filled to the brim with people seeking medical attention, and anxious curators trying to move precious relics out of the way lest the siltstone sarcophagus lid of an ancient tomb become a mortuary slab. She was sure she'd almost seen one of the poor Tyrellian archaeologists nearly have a conniption over someone sitting on a replica turn-of-the-century Tyrellian royal family chaise lounge.


Back straight and shoulders back, she moved through the lines of patients with the PADD in her hand into the rear of the mythological mural room-turned-medical headquarters.


Her green eyes pinpointed those she wanted; Corliss, Loxley, and Taeval, all lending their experience and expertise in the throes of emergency. Tired and sore already, it would be a long night. For once, Tali cautioned a small smile as she approached and set her kanar-shaped travel mug—Brew Continuum, get it while it's hot—down on the table. 


Corliss, their quick-witted Counsellor; excellent to have on your side in a crisis, unchallenged in her abilities to soothe the aching minds and souls of those put under such immense pressure. Her partner, Loxley, the Vulcan/Human hybrid with the bad blood; one of the best doctors she'd ever worked alongside, though if she ever told him that she'd stick him with a scalpel. That left Taeval; one whose worth she hadn't quite measured yet, but he was skilled, his hands were good, and he listened. What a glorious trait she wished more people had.


Namura: It might look bleak right now, but I believe we're pushing through the glut of it. All the special exhibition rooms have been taken over by the intensive care cases; it's significantly more environmentally controlled for optimum settings. Plus, it's right next to the archive room in case the worst should happen. 


Fortune/Loxley/Taeval: Response


Namura: The good news is we're about an eighth of the way through the triaged patients we had when we arrived. The bad news is we're about an eighth of the way through the triaged patients we had when we arrived. 


Fortune/Loxley/Taeval: Response


Namura: Never let it be said I said the good news for last. ::She grumbled as she slid a manicured-if-short fingernail down the PADD screen, a thought radiating in sharp cheekbones.:: We've set the high-dependency patients up in the early historical statues wing while early-modern is now serving as paediatrics. How has the day worn on for you?


Fortune/Loxley/Taeval: Response




Lieutenant JG Tali Namura

Acting Chief Medical Officer

USS Gorkon



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