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PNPC Lt. Trovek Arys - The Moment We Became Strangers

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I have been, and always will be, a Lurys fan.

Dammit @Nestira Aristren  again you wrote a very powerful and relatable sim that really shook me.



((Private Room, Main Medical Facility, Starbase 118))

Lukin had made the effort to visit Arys in her room in sickbay, but their reunion was filled with a mix of joy and unspoken tension. While Arys cherished his presence, she couldn't shake the knowledge that there were unresolved issues lingering between them. And now he wanted her to come home, but she knew that she needed more time.

Wyn, understanding and supportive as always, had agreed to let her stay with him for a few days following the surgery. It wasn't just for medical reasons, although those were important considering the complexity of the procedure. Arys also needed a break from the overwhelming emotions that came with her current family situation. She struggled with her role as mother, and she struggled even more with sharing Lukin with Geleth.
She had done so for a while, but for the longest time Arys had regarded it as an amusing quirk of her personality. After all, who could blame her for wanting to be the sole object of Lukin's affection? But then she had realized that she was jealous of a child who had lost mother and father, and suddenly it wasn't funny any more. Who in their right mind denied a child the loving supportive presence they clung to?

But Arys was't in her right mind. The presence of the alternate version of herself in the room, a fascinating hallucination in and of itself, served as a constant reminder the impending medical procedure. She tried to explain, but the words failed her, leaving her frustrated and unable to fully articulate her feelings.

Trovek: I would have needed you. Lukin, my brother died, only a few months ago. Tito confessed that he killed him and... and that was a big deal for me. And you weren't there because you were out with Geleth. ::she bit her lip, raising a hand to keep him from talking:: I love her, but I am insanely jealous. And right now, I can't guarantee I won't make her feel that, so I can't come home. 

Zorkal: You can’t?  Or you won’t? 

Trovek: I ... I am just... overwhelmed and...

Her voice trembled as she tried to expressed her fears and insecurities, hoping for a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Her grip tightened around his hand, seeking reassurance, only to find it unresponsive, lifeless, devoid of the warmth and connection she so desperately needed. But with every passing word, their emotional distance seemed to widen, until finally, Lukin withdrew his hand, severing the physical connection between them.

Zorkal: It seems you’ve made your decision. 

Trovek: No... Lukin, I-... please don't force me to make a decision, not now...

Not now, when the shadows in the corner of the room still put her on edge, and loud noise and sudden movements triggered flashbacks of the attack. Not now, when she knew Foster was locked in the practise lab to go through the procedure another hundred times before he would operate on Arys. Not now, when she was utterly terrified and couldn't trust her eyes and ears, let alone her thoughts and emotions.

Zorkal: I can not force you to do anything, Arys.  You know that better than anyone.  You made your decisions.  Not me.  I paved the way to make it easier for you, but you were the one who stepped through the door.  My only expectation was for you to decide what you wanted to do.  Whether it was to go through or simply close it, I would have supported you either way.  It is not and was not my responsibility.  I did not force you into anything.  You *did* make the choice.  From what I see, you feel like you made the wrong choice and are trying to put the blame on me.  Well my dear, for once, I am not the one to blame here.  And since you are running away when things get difficult, I see no reason to remain myself.  I wish you a full and quick recovery. 

As Lukin turned away, the other version of herself screamed desperately, pleading for Arys to stop him from walking away. The internal chaos grew louder, the cacophony of conflicting voices warring within her mind, tearing at her sanity.

But Arys remained immobilized, her lips sealed, her voice trapped within her.

It wasn't until the door swung shut that Arys finally regained the ability to speak, even if it was nothing more than a whisper.

Trovek: I'm scared.

But it was too late. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as the realization of what had happened, how utterly wrong this had gone, settled upon her chest like a crushing weight. The world seemed to crumble around her, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her chest, as if trying to prevent herself from falling apart.

End Scene

PNPC Lt. Trovek Arys
Chief Medical Officer
Starbase 118 Ops

“Paths are made by walking”
-- Franz Kafka


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