gorkon Commander Jo Marshall - Friends and Vortexes

[Alieth]

These last few weeks have been a bit of a mess and I haven't been able to upload as many sims here as I wanted to, but this one was reserved to post here for a good reason. Firstly, it's @Jo Marshall 's delightful prose, as always, gorgeous, deep and beautiful. Secondly, the wonderful way in which the dialogue fits @Quinn Reynolds 's characters, seamlessly. Simming goals.

 

((Cyrithra Forest, Palanon))

Across the campsite from them, past the rows of delightful lantern-lit cabins already warm for the night ahead, Jo caught sight of Alieth and their newest transfers, Finch and T'Lar, chatting the evening away. That's what they'd always used those evenings for. Getting to know the crew, getting to know one another. Talk, drink, eat, and celebrate together in the eventuality that one day, one of them might not be there to see it. Ever aware, her blue eyes combed over the campsite.

Marshall: You'd think, doing what we do, he'd want to be a Marine Biologist on Deluvia IV, instead. At least the weather would be better for most of the year.

Reynolds: He did want to be a marine biologist, for a little while. After the Eagle crashed, he was fascinated with the oceans and sea life for a long while.

Brunsig: I remember the lectures. Trying to catch up on PADDwork and suddenly a hand-drawn picture of a Bolian sugarshark in front of your eyeballs. ::A hint, only a hint, of a smile creased the corners of his blue eyes as he looked toward Jo.:: Live in the equatorial seas of Bolarus, entirely vegetarian, and feed on sweetkelp—in case you were wondering.

Marshall: That's the life. ::Her smile twitched at the edges of her lips as she folded her arms, sealing in the warmth.:: I remember his sugarsharks. Still got one in the Operations office on the hall of doodle fame. Has it really been that long? He was knee-high to a grasshopper last week.

Coming on board the ship felt simultaneously like a glacial age and a week ago, when Dylan had run around the ship with the energetic exuberance of his young age, when the lithe Fleet Captain of the Gorkon had seen them all safely back home to their actual reality. He'd grown so quickly, and with such an old head on his shoulders, it felt like a Q had erased the years between. He could ride on his own now, she didn't need to show him as much anymore, and aside from small course corrections, he'd soon be speeding on his own bike.

Reynolds: I suppose I’d fret whatever he’s doing. ::She exhaled through a rueful sigh.:: In the end, it just comes down to what you’re worrying about, rather than whether you are.

Marshall: He's a smart kid. The only one I know that can run rings around you when it comes to dismantling a replicator at speed. ::She tongued her cheek as a small idea bloomed in blue.:: We should make that a challenge. Line you up in the Cargo Bay and time it.

A daft idea, presented for the amusement of her friend, whose worry lines would one day represent a relief map of Bajor riverbeds. Stretching her boots out in front of her, Jo crossed them over, feeling the thickness of the socks inside, the woolly scratch on her skin and the delight in just… being outside in the natural world again. Flanked by trees on all sides, breathing in their expelled oxygen, feeling the stress slip away from her brain stem. Retiring to a quiet colony seemed like a good idea. Somewhere they could go on hikes, cultivate a garden, read and relax and do not much else.

Reynolds: Anyway. Walter and I were talking; he thinks we should organise a reunion for everyone who was on the Gorkon during our time Over There.

Brunsig: Dominion War vets do it all the time. ::He sipped from his brandy flask, and held it out to Jo once more.:: Gives people permission to talk about what happened, pay their respects to the dead, reminisce about the non-soul-crushing moments, eat vast amounts of cake, gently weep in each other’s arms, yadda yadda.

Marshall: It's those yadda yadda moments that really give it the flavour.

Taking the proffered hipflask, Jo knocked back a swig from it with all the burning sensation to go with it. Strong wasn't the word; smooth was probably nearer, with a post-swallow sensation of liquid lava. Knowing better than to offer it in the semi-circle she would if Erin were with them, Jo passed the flask back to Walter and nodded, approvingly.

Marshall: I like the idea of it, though. ::Her mouth mulled around the thought.:: Tell me more.

And as the party continued, the celebrations winding into the evening, the three friends sat, drink, and talked about a future that seemed perpetually on the horizon, just waiting for them to explore it.

fin

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Commander Jo Marshall
Chief of Operations
USS Gorkon, NCC-82293
G239304JM0