ops Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau - "Son...and Father"

[Sal Taybrim]

This has been a really engrossing ongoing scene between these two characters and a wonderful read!

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((Security Center, StarBase 118))

 

 

She had died.  Aine Sherlock had literally died.  Her heart had stopped, 

her body had ceased to function.  Somehow, the medical officers managed 

to restart it all and pull her back from the brink, but there were 

consequences to that.  While Aine stated she’d been in so much pain she 

could hardly handle it, Alora knew there was likely more than that.  

Being so close to death was no small matter, and the emotional impact 

was likely deeper and further reaching than initially seen.

 

 

What was it like?  Alora didn't know what to know.  In truth, she feared 

death.  She had no desire to meet it any time soon, though she had 

certainly faced it on more than one occasion.  Her fear was superseded 

by other, more urgent needs at the time.  But now she stood next to 

someone who had not only met it, but managed to overcome it, even if 

with the help of others.  Part of her wanted to ask more, to see if she 

could find out something concrete about the experience, and another part 

of her knew better than to ask. If Aine wanted to talk about it, best to 

let her do so at her own pace and give only as much information as she 

desired, which was what Alora did, and she had a feeling the security 

and tactical officer had revealed more to her than she might have 

originally intended.

 

 

DeVeau: It must have been very difficult.

 

 

That was the closest Alora would allow herself to ask for more depth in 

regards to that subject.  If Aine wanted to delve deeper, she’d let her.

 

 

Sherlock: It was ::long pause:: is.

 

 

There, Alora had her answer.  It was hard.  It still was hard.  It would 

likely always be hard.  A brief silence settled between them, but it 

didn’t take long for Alora to realise she would get no further 

information about *that*.  It was best to move on and hear more of the 

other.

 

 

DeVeau: And yet there’s still more to this story.

 

 

Somehow, that statement broke through the stiffness of the verbal 

transaction and a grin spread over Aine’s face, coupled with something 

of a laugh, there to Alora’s ears, it wasn’t quite full of humour.  

Perhaps it was more of…a recognition of an obvious statement.  There had 

to be more to that story, of course, and as Aine fixed her eyes upon 

Alora, she leaned her head back against the chair.

 

 

Sherlock: Are you kidding? We're still at the start.

 

 

DeVeau: Of course we are.

 

 

Because such a tale didn’t end that way, it began that way.  Alora 

should have known that.  Her eyes darted toward the chief, then back to 

the duo who faced the Suliban. Raban was toying them, playing a game.  

I’ll tell you something if you tell me something.  Alora didn’t 

interfere, but let it play out, even when he wanted to know who was 

watching.  Sill-con’s answer was perfect, and she listened as Aine 

continued her story.

 

 

Sherlock: That human terrorist I mentioned, the one that brought the 

device aboard the Resolution ::beat:: his real name was Liam Wyke. 

Lieutenant Commander Liam Wyke, son of Admiral Regillensis. Starfleet 

Intelligence.

 

 

Liam Wyke.  She felt like the name should be familiar, but somehow she 

couldn’t call a face or why it would be.  Perhaps she’d seen it fly by 

in the news?  No…maybe the reports?  Or perhaps it was a matter that she 

simply *wanted* it to be familiar because she wanted to find something 

she could connect to and about in regards to Aine’s story.  Ah, but 

Regillensis, that was a name she knew, at least peripherally.

 

 

DeVeau: Right.

 

 

Alora nodded, not wishing to interrupt, but she also wanted Aine to know 

she was listening, and doing so closely.

 

 

DeVeau: And what happened after that?

 

 

Sherlock: A ::long, long pause:: friend of mine killed him, trying to 

stop the ship from being destroyed. They found out as Wyke was dying, 

who he really was. I fought to get HQ to declassify it all because I'm 

worried Rinascita is now just another secret of the wrong person.

 

 

Alora’s gaze slid away from the two and fell upon Aine once again.  

Frowning, she then checked the computer to make sure it was recording 

the entire interaction with Raban, which it was, then leaned heavily 

back into her chair.

 

 

DeVeau: I think I can understand your concern.  But I’m sure your…battle 

didn’t win you any favours.

 

 

Aine nodded, obviously not pleased at the decision to keep it all 

classified.  Alora knew that she had another subject to look into, a 

task to help distract her from other things that tried to occupy her 

thoughts.  What would she find if she tried to look deeper?

 

 

Sherlock: Wait until you hear about his father.

 

 

The father.  The Admiral.  Alora didn’t respond right away. Unlike Wike, 

the name Regillensis *was* familiar.  But rather than interject any 

knowledge, Alora merely nodded.

 

DeVeau: The admiral.

 

 

Sherlock: ?

 

 

DeVeau: And his son embroiled in something like that.

 

 

It had to be difficult, to have the knowledge of who the son had been 

and who his father was.  This wasn't merely an officer's boy, this was 

the son of an admiral.  And of Starfleet Intelligence, no less.  How 

could the man *not* know?

 

 

Sherlock: ?

 

 

DeVeau: I’m willing to listen if you’re willing to tell.

 

 

Sherlock: ?

 

 

 

-- 

Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau

First Officer

Starbase 118 Ops

alora@blar.net

M239008AD0

 

 

[Nestira Aristren]

Well done @Lt Aine Olive Sherlock! You made me care about Rinascita more than I care to admit

#RememberRinascita