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[ROUND 4] PNPC T'tala - Inexplicable happenings, dreams and memori

Alleran Tan

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Hey all, I am nominating this sim on behalf of Ensign Adan since he has trouble with the forums. Because of the YouTube embedded plugin and to fix tags, I have done some very minor cosmetic editing to the sim. The original is here: http://games.groups.yahoo.com/group/sb118-victory/message/13999

To set the scene, Senator Kaitek (a Romulan senator, the last surviving member of the council) has just been rescued from Decas IV. He is in sickbay- MacKenna and T'tala are sent to escort him to the Briefing Room.


(( OOC: "Inexplicable happenings, dreams and memories both strange and terrible... half remembered, translucent like the morning fog and evaporating just as easily." ))

(( OOC: Music for this sim: ))

(( The Dreamscape, unknown location ))

:: Have you ever had a dream so real, you didn't know if you were asleep or awake? ::

:: A dark, spacious room. Unlit. Thick carpet. A couch in the corner of her vision. Some kind of apartment? The lights of the city out the windows were unfamiliar to her. ::

:: T'tala yanked the long, wickedly serrated weapon out of the lifeless vulcanoid body below her. A river of olive green blood poured from the wound but she payed it no heed. The Vulcan woman, wearing unfamiliar clothes, wiped the blood off with a cloth she had handy. The cloth did its duty then was tucked into her hipsack. She tapped a wrist-mounted communicator. ::

T'tala: Is é an tasc a dhéanamh. Sprioc amháin tar éis seoladh agus an fhianaise a bhaint astu. Orduithe?

:: In her dreams, she didn't have a universal translator. The words sounded vaguely Vulcan but it was not a dialect she was familiar with. The Dream-T'tala did not sense anything wrong with her speech; it was like she had spoken the language all her life. ::

Strange voice: Fái an ardán láithreach. A luaithe is a athdháileadh ar-fuireachas chun treoracha a thuilleadh. Fada beo ar an Impireacht.

:: T'tala tapped her communicator twice, heading for the door. She casually tucked the blade into a sheath in the small of her back, flicking one of the flowing garments of her dress over it to conceal it. She went to the lobby, flashing a flirtatious wink to the Romulan attendant who she'd convinced to grant her access to her "lover". The young man- little more than a gullible boy, really- flushed a light green. T'tala forced a girlish giggle then stepped outside. ::

:: Making her way out into the pouring rain, T'tala ducked into one of the many small streets and disappeared. ::

:: So vivid and so real, as though she were there. She could hear the roar of the pouring rain, feel the cold drops as they ran down her skin, smell the moisture in the air... ::

(( T'tala's Quarters, USS Victory ))

:: But like all dreams, this too shall fade. T'tala of Vulcan awoke, still in her uniform, her hands grasping her pillow. The same dream... twice in a row, now, right on the coattails of the one about Pitik. What did it all mean? ::

:: What did any of this mean? ::

:: Her combadge chirped. ::

Sutel: =/\= Doctor Sutel to Petty Officer Third Class T'tala. =/\=

:: T'tala forced her mind out of the groggy, post-dream state. It was a moment before she could answer. ::

T'tala: =/\= Go ahead, doctor...? =/\=

Sutel: =/\= The Senator is on-board. You are required to assist Senator Kaitek from sickbay to the Captain's Ready Room, and entertain him until Captain Jaxx is free to see him. Meet Commander MacKenna outside sickbay at your earliest opportunity. =/\=

T'tala: =/\= Yes, sir. T'tala out. =/\=

:: T'tala threw herself out of bed, something she found remarkably difficult. Her pregancy was coming along- moving around was difficult. She dressed herself as fast as possible; fortunately, her maternity issue uniform was easy to pull on over the top of a set of loose fitting pants. This, she presumed, was by design. ::

:: Hurrying as fast she could, T'tala left her quarters and headed for a turbolift. ::

(( Deck 5, USS Victory ))

:: T'tala ambled at her best speed towards sickbay. MacKenna would meet her there, of course, but she wanted to be fast. ::

:: Fortunately, the Vulcan woman arrived just as the Commander did. She did her best to present a straight back and a firm posture, despite being five months pregnant. ::

T'tala: Commander. Apologies for being late. Shall we collect the Senator, ma'am? Please, do not set a slower pace on my account- if the Senator is impatient, I will simply catch up.

:: With a nod, she stepped into the sickbay. ::

(( FLASHBACK: Fifty two years ago, Vulcan-registered freighter Jek'telen, Breen space ))

:: Eight year old T'tala placed the final sphere into place. It was a toy- a Vulcan children's toy- where the goal was to arrange hundreds of tiny spheres into their associated groupings. Some were warm, some cold, some larger or smaller than usual and each a slightly different colour. Some emitted noise, others shook slightly, while the rest were inert. The test was not in the physical task, but in the logical groupings of the spheres. ::

Nikkaran: Well done.

:: The older Vulcan male placed his hand on T'tala's head, rubbing her hair. She smiled up at her father. ::

T'tala: I ordered the blocks by size, then colours according to their spectrum on the light scale- much as a rainbow appears in the sky after rainfall- then by motion and then noise.

Nikkaran: And what of their temperature?

T'tala: I disregarded temperature. I did not consider it important compared to the size, or the-

:: There was a violent roar- Nikkaran and T'tala were both thrown off their feet. The freighter shook as though in a frenzy, decompression alarms screaming in their ears. The thick, male voice of the ship's computer droned over the alarms. ::

Computer: Warning. Decompression on deck six. Warning. Intruder alert. Warning. Decompression on...

:: Nikkaran's eyes widened in shock. ::

Nikkaran: Intruders...?

:: T'tala looked frightened, her lip bloodied and green from her fall. ::

T'tala: Father...?

:: Nikkaran scooped up the young girl in his arms, jogging. ::

Nikkaran: The Breen. It must be. T'tala, touch my combadge.

:: She did as she was told, despite her fear. The comchannel crackled to life. ::

Nikkaran: =V= It's them, isn't it? =V=

:: The voice of her mother, frenzied with panic, greeted her father. ::

Salara: =V= It's the Breen! They're cutting through the hull on deck six! We've sent out a distress call. Sa'dal, Sulaco and Vakkara are fetching the phasers. Take T'tala and secure her on Deck Two, I will meet you there! =V=

Nikkaran: =V= Affirmative, Nikkaran out! =V=

:: They had barricaded themselves inside an unused storage room on Deck Two, but it was no use. The Breen swept through the ship, methodical, endless in their search. Salara was shot first- Nikkaran second. With his dying motion the man had pinched T'tala's neck, hiding her limp form under his bloodied chest, spiriting her away from the Breen with his body. ::

:: Hours later T'tala awoke, drenched in green blood and surrounded by the cold, dead bodies of her parents. The crew of the ship, as close to her as family, were long departed to the afterlife. ::

:: Frightened almost out of her wits, T'tala ordered the ship's autopilot to take them back to Federation space. The ship's cargo had not been touched, the vessel aside from the Breen's entrance was intact, and the crew were slaughtered- not even the other children were spared. ::

:: It was senseless. So senseless... pitiful, that none had survived. Why had they done this? Why had the Breen attacked them, slaughtering them without mercy... for nothing? ::

(( Flashback ends ))

:: The doors to sickbay opened. T'tala nearly fell over in shock, her Vulcan eyes wide with disbelief. She could not believe what she was seeing- the sight before her was impossible. Not impossible in the figurative sense of the word- that was something merely improbable- no. This was impossible. She had... she had seen him die. Nikkaran's body was cold. It had begun to rot. The Federation rescuers who found her had buried the body in space. He was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.::

:: Yet here he stood. Older, yes... but ever so much the man of her memories. T'tala's voice was a hoarse croak. ::

T'tala: Father...?


PNPC T'tala

Captain Jaxx's Personal Assistant

USS Victory

As simmed by,

CPO Radi Rais

Chief of Operations

USS Victory

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