Torvi Ylvor - All The Pieces (P1 & P2)

[Robin Hopper]

In the wake of Frontier Day, we are all exploring how our characters were affected by this momentous and devastating event. This has led, already, to myriad interesting stories and approaches to describing the impacts of F-Day -- one that caught me particularly by surprise was that of @Torvi Ylvor, who explored not only how the events have shaken their PC, Torvi, but also a PNPC from her past and the unique way in which 'her presence' tied into his experience of F-Day...

Part 1: https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-amity/c/0LcfrdZShEY/m/GWkrMi-wAwAJ

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((Frontier Day plus 3, Jupiter Station))

Torvi walked through the corridor, somewhat unsure of where she needed to be, checking section numbers and signage, she was getting closer to her destination. The station was considerably different to Amity's design, more akin to a starship rather than a large luxurious base such as Amity. The winding corridors and lack of windows didn't help her disorientation. The station was being used as personnel overflow from vessels and facilities that had been extensively damaged during the Frontier day crisis. Short term accommodation for those who had been displaced, and there were still issues, bunks and limited space was already obvious as there was a considerable amount of personnel wandering the corridors. Torvi didn't mind the amount of people, she didn't exactly want to be alone at the moment. 

She continued on, entering a section labeled rather amateurishly as 'Marine Country' where things got substantially stiller. The doors opened to a larger cargo bay, with cargo boxes lined up into makeshift walls and rooms throughout the bay. She looked for any sign of a familiar face, one in particular, asking a nearby Corporal for his whereabouts. The Corporal paused, looked like he was chewing rocks, then gestured his head in a small nod toward the back of the bay. The Corporal walked off quickly as if the cargo bay doors were about to open and he needed to get out of there. 

Torvi looked back at the man as he walked away, confused. Judging by his body language it wasn't good. She walked over to the area as directed, and knocked on one of the cargo boxes near the entry to the temporary room. A small piece of cloth was hung on a pipe across the threshold. No answer was given, but Torvi could see someone through the small gap in the cloth. She stepped through, pulling the cloth out of the way. There were four bunks, sets of two across from each other, and the figure sat on the bottom bunk of one, the shadow from the bunk making it even darker, mostly covering the man's face. 

It was darker in this room than the rest of them, others had lights on, screens, but mostly everything was off here, and she could only make out simple details, at least until her eyes adjusted. She recognised the build of the man, as 1st Lieutenant Dalton Wakefield, her long-distance oO boyfriend? Oo she struggled with the title, they hadn't really been in contact since she moved to Amity outpost. She absolutely felt guilt on that one, as she had only just sprung the transfer on him as she was packing her things on the Gorkon. 

What Torvi could see didn't make her feel settled, she could see his eyes were open, catching a little of the available light, but they weren't really focused on anything, more like a 1000 light years away. Stubble was visible on his face, about 3 days worth by her guess, mainly as she knew him to be someone who always shaved. 

Ylvor: Dalton?

The man took in a deep breath through his nose as if woken from a sleep, then looked groggily up at the interloper into his room. Locking eyes with Torvi's his eyes went wide, his mouth opened. His right hand went for his thigh, a muscle memory to obtain his sidearm, only there wasn't one there. Torvi's brow furrowed at this reaction, confused and concerned. 

Wakefield: You're one of them aren't you!? 

He said with such malice in his voice. Torvi was taken aback, her own anger and guilt about the changelings bubbling to the surface. 

Ylvor: I'm not, you can scan me if you need to. 

Her voice tried to stay calm, regardless of the mix of emotions she felt. He let out a disgusted huff. 

Ylvor: Dalton, what's going on? 

Wakefield: I already told the investigators and my CO everything, go find the report. 

She moved closer to him, but seeing him flinch, she stopped. 

Ylvor: Talk to me? 

Wakefield: You killed them.. 

Ylvor: Wha.. I

She was at a loss for words, she grabbed a small stool that was nearby and took a seat, facing Dalton. She felt a pit in her stomach form as she was entirely confused. 

Ylvor: Killed who? 

The thought of her not remembering taking life when she was assimilated was almost too much to bear, she wiped away a tear and steeled herself for an answer. 

Wakefield: My team, the crew. 

Ylvor: Dalton, you aren't making sense. 

She saw there was a hypospray with what looked like a sedative loaded in. She looked back to Dalton, who was getting visibly angry. 

Wakefield: You came aboard the Albion at Cestus III, we went to my quarters and you took me out. I woke up and the ship was almost destroyed. 

((Flashback, Frontier Day minus 1 - Cargo Bay 3 - USS Albion (Curry Class) in orbit of Cestus III))

1st Lieutenant Dalton Wakefield gave a final nod to the Marines he had finished conversing with and proceeded on with his rounds. PADD in hand he checked off a few more items of the manifest, and checked the next section of his itinerary. He was pleased to be heading back to Earth, and even more excited to have his team perform the demonstration they had been planning and rehearsing for 3 months. His platoon had practiced the mock seizing of a ship's bridge, auxiliary control and engineering in a multitude of ways on the holodeck. They were ready, and having accepted a promotion to 1st Lieutenant, he was exceptionally pleased to confirm his CO's trust in him. Things were going well. 

Heading to the armory next, he headed down the aged corridors of the well worn ship. The Albion had been a troop transport during the Dominion Wars, and was still kicking around seeing limited use by the Marine Corps for a few different purposes. With the demobilisation after the war, many ships were decommissioned, leaving limited resources for Marine use. Especially now given the Fleet Formation Mode rollout to all compatible ships was occurring, they would potentially find that even the Albion would be up for the decommission yard. The Curry class ship was so far out of compatibility it was a running joke amongst those on board as to when it was being installed. 

Invested in his PADD, someone was closing up behind him at a bit of a pace. 

Ylvor: Heya Dalton. 

Wakefield furrowed his brow in recognition, and his eyebrows went sky high when he realised. 

Wakefield: Spots!

He turned around and saw Torvi standing there, her hands behind her back, swaying from left to right, a massive grin across her face. Pulling her in for a hug he was entirely too excited to see her. 

Wakefield: What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were on Amity?

Ylvor: A few of us were chosen to come back for Frontier Day, I had some time to kill so I thought I'd come find you.. ::she paused, a wicked grin on her face:: and perform an inspection on your quarters... 

She moved in closer and went in for a kiss, Dalton kissed her back. Hearing someone clear their throat from a little further down the corridor, he pulled away. 

Wakefield: Well yes of course Lieutenant, ::He gestured to adjoining corridor:: right this way please. 

A few moments later they entered his quarters and Torvi locked the door behind her. Seeming in a playful, mock bashful mood, it was clear what she had in mind. He moved over to his bed and turned around toward Torvi. She made a turn around gesture as she went for the clasp on her uniform. He obliged, begrudgingly. 

An intense pain shot through his shoulder like he was stabbed with a spear, before he felt himself being lifted roughly from the ground and thrown into the bulkhead wall. His world went black. 

 

Part 2: https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-amity/c/_p8qKBIFqwk/m/zzfST4pKBAAJ

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((Frontier Day plus 3, Jupiter Station))

Torvi had come to see Dalton, finding him in one of the cargo bays on Jupiter station, being used as overflow accommodation for the personnel who had been displaced by the Frontier day chaos. There really wasn't an abundance of places to store people comfortably, Mars' surface was still recovering, Sol station was in ruins, and the fleet itself was in such disrepair. Earth itself had its own problems, its hospitals and medical facilities having been overwhelmed with casualties. But there really was no better place to be when it came to medical care. Plus any place on earth you could think to visit was a short site to site transport away. 

Dalton's eyes seemed angry, but also hurt, and now he had come out from the shadows, he had bags under his eyes. Seemingly waiting for a response from Torvi. 

Torvi took a deep breath, seeking to understand. 

Ylvor: Tell me what I did. 

Wakefield: The Albion was crippled, my Marines engaged the ships personnel, apparently under my orders... I woke up to red alert lights.

((Flashback, Frontier Day minus 1 - Cargo Bay 3 - USS Albion (Curry Class) in orbit of Cestus III))

Dalton awoke in darkness, the only light was the slow strobing of the red alert lighting. He'd landed on his back, and was laying in his own blood. His adrenaline spiked and he moved to react to the attack, only much too late. Fresh pain seared through his body. Grabbing some bedding he put a corner between his boots and tore off a long strip with his good arm. Stuffing parts of it into the large wound on the back of his shoulder, his vision flashed white. He wrapped the rest around with tremendous pressure, under and around his shoulder. Then tying it off as best he could to stop the bleeding. With another strip, he made a sling. 

Looking around there was no sign of Torvi, or what had stabbed him. oO She wouldn't have left me would she? Oo. 

Stumbling into the corridor, the lighting not much better. He could see shapes.. bodies down the curving corridor. 

oO What the hell has happened here? Oo 

He slumped up against a wall panel that still had power, and keyed the comm with his authorisation code. 

Wakefield: =/\= Anvil actual to any Anvil callsign, sitrep? =u/\=

Nothing was heard for a moment, before the screen lit up with the face of one of his marines, Staff Sergeant Raekmun. Her eyes went wide and the colour drained from her face. Her face was dirty and she had a gash on her cheek. 

Raekmun: =/\= Uh.. Actual? Anvil Two here... =/\= 

Wakefield: =/\= Rake, Report.. =/\=

Raekmun: =/\= You're alive.. =/\= 

Dalton's brow furrowed. Raekmun turned the camera towards a body, sitting upright against the wall with its head back. Several phaser burns to it's torso. It was his turn to have his blood run from his face. 

It was clearly 1st Lieutenant Dalton Wakefield, now deceased. He felt dizzy, and stabilised himself against the wall. 

Raekmun: =/\= We had to put you down sir, you.. it.. whatever was trying to commandeer the ship, get us to reconfigure this ::shakes hand in vicinity of control room:: comm relay.. =/\=

Wakefield: =/\= I gave no such orders.. =/\= 

He felt sick.

Raekmun: =/\= It did.. we thought it was you. =/\= 

A tear streamed down Raekmun's cheek. 

Raekmun: =/\= It started out like a training sortie, but unannounced this time, the fleet crew were taken off guard, we secured them like you said. A Trill fleeter on the bridge got jumpy and shot Koriak, he went down, then we fired back stunning most of them. ::she wiped another tear:: Koriak was dead. We didn't find the Trill in the stunned. =/\=

oO a Trill, Torvi? Was she still on the ship? She wouldn't have fired at marines though Oo Dalton felt like throwing up, the pain in his shoulder coupled with this information. The smell of phaser fire was very much prevalent in the corridor he stood in. 

Raekmun: =/\= Things escalated, you, it, said that they had been compromised, and to take them down. Then you disappeared, right before the... ::A realisation hit Raekmun:: the power grid fluctuated. Ship went haywire, explosions in the deuterium tanks, ODNs overloading. =/\=

He was having trouble catching his breath. None of this made sense. 

Wakefield: =/\= And this comm relay? =/\= 

Raekmun: =/\= It mentioned that we needed to get comms out, made us beam over and start prepping it. Had some terrified communications officer try to do what you asked. When it asked us to kill him for not complying... =/\= 

He nodded, looking past the Staff Sergeant to the body, wearing his face. oO So that's what my death would look like Oo

Wakefield: =/\= How many dead? =/\= 

He braced himself for the answer. 

Raekmun: =/\= Marines, we lost 22, Starfleet had a light crew on board, they've lost 87. I.. this got out of hand so quickly. =/\=

Wakefield: =/\= Oh no.. =/\= 

He slid down the bulkhead slowly, grief crashing over him like a wave. Ringing in his ears had began earlier in the conversation, yet now became overwhelming and unbearable. 

((End Flashback))

Wakefield: ...The Albion did it's best to limp back to Earth, no warp, no comms. We had no idea what was happening in the Sol Sector, but we missed the assimilation signal. We got picked up by a Klingon Vorcha, who overtook us heading to Earth to investigate reports. 

He leant back in his bunk again, continuing to recount the story to Torvi, who seemed entirely mortified. 

Wakefield: 47 survivors out of 156 on the Albion altogether. The changeling.. or changelings, crippled the ship, played both groups expertly.

Ylvor: But why the comm relay? 

Wakefield: To further the signal for the Borg, or that's what we assumed. But they would have needed another ship to bridge the gap. Presumably from the fleet formation takeover they would have orchestrated it. 

Ylvor: By the symbiote ponds, it could have covered half the quadrant like that. 

Wakefield: It could have been drastically worse. 

He looked at Torvi again. 

Wakefield: We never did find any sign of you, it. Showing your file picture around though, it was using your likeness to start the chaos. It killed Koriak. ::He took a moment:: And indirectly most of my platoon.

He swallowed hard, finding it rough to keep talking. Torvi moved onto the bunk and sat next to him, putting her arms around him. He squeezed one of her arms. 

Torvi knew others had gone through hell too, but she hadn't imagined that someone would use her face to manipulate someone she loved. Hence the look of fear and anger she saw in him when she walked in. 

This day of days would most certainly leave its ugly scars across everyone, in some way or another.

She stayed with him until they both fell asleep on the single bunk.