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Thread: Star Trek RPG - Mission #4: "Codex Aelyrr"

  1. #2401
    Member Elendil's Heir's avatar
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    Rangin sees that he is not specifically assigned to return to the Brold prototype in the cargo bay for his next watch, but knows he can go with Roble's approval whenever.

    Thalen replies to Kylah, "Yes, of course. Mr. Soerjosoemarno can cover for you there."

    The Indonesian man, overhearing, says, "Certainly, sir. Not a problem."

    Mahmoud says, "Well, we definitely don't want to give you any incentive to do this again, Book."

    Bennett laughs but then turns serious. "How do you feel? Are you in any pain?"

  2. #2402
    Administrator choie's avatar
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    With a quick murmured "thank you" to both Thalen and Soerjosoemarno, Kylah moves slowly from the Communications Center to the nearest turbolift. She feels a bit better as soon as she is alone, which troubles her but she cannot analyze what the problem is, and so she ignores it.

    Instead she pulls her communicator out. I will not be able to go to Engineering today, she thinks in irritation, remembering her desire to get her old device repaired. She starts to tap in a message but, once she arrives on her deck, the vertiginous feeling returns, and she finds that her fingers are flubbing every other word.

    The pressure on her inner ears, as if ascending on a very fast turbolift, is quite uncomfortable. Though she shakes her head and slaps at her ears, neither have any effect--if anything, the head movement makes things worse.

    At last she reaches her quarters and heads directly to her bed. Sitting down, she gives up on the attempt to send a text-based message and just sends a direct voice recording to Graham's account. "Mr. Graham," she says as steadily as possible. "I am very sorry but I might not be able to visit after all. I need to take a nap, and I might be coming down with some sort of... virus, or infection, I do not know. Whatever it is I should not be near you while you are recovering. I will do my best to come tomorrow. I hope you are doing well. Goodnight."

    She ends the call and then hesitates. Did she just say "goodnight"? Her tongue must have slipped. Closing her eyes, she makes her second cancellation. Again she contacts Velir's voicemail account directly, knowing he is on watch.

    "Kylah, this is Vel--I mean--this is Kylah. I have left my watch early, because I need to sleep. I am feeling very strange. I think I still need sleep. Did I say that already?" Kylah wipes her face with a hand and sinks down on the bed, cradling the communicator to her. She is finding it hard to concentrate. "I do not know if I will be able to have dinner with you. I doubt I can." Her words are slow in coming, and her voice is so husky it would not be audible to anyone standing six feet away. "I...am very...sorry. Please forgive..."

    With a heavy sigh, she falls asleep.

  3. #2403
    Ape must not kill ape! general_urko's avatar
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    Graham waves a hand. "Ah, I'll be fine...I mean, I don't think I'm hopping up out of bed to challenge Collins here to a game of basketball anytime soon, but I'll be OK..." He pauses a moment. "No need to worry about me, I've had worse."

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    "I don't know about you two" Collins looks at Bennett and Mahmoud, "But I want to hear how this happened, from Booker's p.o.v." She looks back to Graham.

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    Graham shrugs slightly. "Ah, why don't you come along when the mission team does its debriefing...I can't imagine anyone would mind."

    He frowns slightly. "I hate to be a party pooper, but I might need to go down for the count here...I'm feeling more tired than I should be."

    "Guess I need some extra beauty sleep." He reflexively glances toward Bennett as he says this, and immediately hopes nobody noticed. Except that Collins seems to have eyes like a hawk for that sort of thing...

    But the fact remains he is tired. And would welcome sleep...except... He glances toward the flower. Nia's probably in charge of dealing with Klingons, still...She did visit, but I'd rather have been...or be...awake to see her...

    Nonetheless unless she bursts through the door within the next few minutes, he's unsure he'll make it...

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    "Okay, then" Collins says as she leaves. "You just get back on your feet is all. Lieutenant." she nods to Bennett, then "Ensign." she nods to Mahmoud, and heads to the gym for a run around the track.

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    At the end of the shift, Rangin thinks over what he is going to be doing for the rest of the day. He had picked up the earlier message from Kylah and had been quite happy to let it go, but something is still bothering him... the extra thirty seconds or so of breathing. It appears that Kylah had drifted off into sleep while still trying to talk to him.

    He thinks about going for a swim, something to keep him ticking over in the afternoon and then catch up on any scientific matters in the Science Labs for a little while before relaxing before perhaps getting back to work on the prototype.

    But it still nags at him about how Kylah is doing, still not good after the last few days. It's just his curiousity he tells himself, not just how he feels for her, although he does worry as any crew member should for another. Then again, if it was a case of looking in on Graham or Kylah, it's a no-brainer as to who was more important to him.

    He heads across to Kylah's quarters and presses the comm button, wondering if she will still want to see him. He shudders as he remembers the last time he was stood here and how badly that night went. He puts it to one side and calls again waiting to come in.

    ++++

    A hail. Another hail. Kylah groans and lifts an impossibly heavy arm over her eyes. No, no, she has not slept in such a long time...

    The hail occurs again and she cannot ignore it. A vague memory of not being able to walk earlier this morning prevents her from getting up, not wanting to make a fool of herself again. She drags her arm away and uses it to prop herself dizzily up. At least this time I am dressed.

    "Come in?" she says, but the words are mostly air. She tries again, and this time changes the request. Perhaps it is someone she can brush off. "Who is it?"

    ++++

    "Hello Kylah, It's Velir, mind if I come in. I just came to check on how you were doing." He tries to keep his voice neutral, hoping she will let him in.

    There's a pause, after which he's grateful to hear a muffled voice commanding the door to open.

    Stepping through, he can immediately see her, still looking tired and wan, but propped up in her bed, and looking tiredly across at him. He takes a few paces and stands to one side, not wanting to sit on the bed and giving her room, a little wary of what might happen again.

    "Hi, I just came round to see how you were, I was a little worried when I got several seconds of you sleeping." Rangin pulls out the communicator and plays the message back. "Don't worry about it, I won't stay too long, just wanted to check you're okay."

    +++++

    Kylah has tried to untangle her messy hair and look alert while Velir entered, and now she watches--or rather, listens--as he plays a message she does not remember leaving.

    She is almost too tired to be embarrassed. It does not even sound like her. She sounds... drunk. "I'm am sorry to have worried you. I just... I just seem to feel so... tired. Not just that, but distant. As if I am separated by a wall from the rest of the ship. Even with you right here."

    It takes her a few seconds to realize how much it means to have him care enough to check on her. But things are still awkward and she does not want to get too personal. Instead she looks to the side and notices that her communicator is on the pillow beside her.

    "They gave me this," she says, fumbling with the device--her fingers are numb again. "But I still want to find out what could have happened to the original. I have never had a communicator just die like that. Have you?"

    +++++

    Rangin feels relieved as Kylah answers his unsaid questions over how she is feeling. He nods in response at her comments about the communicator.

    "No, I don't know what else might have caused it, but I'd be surprised if Engineering didn't have a better idea after some investigation. Anyway, I'll let you get back to sleep. Hopefully, you will feel better tomorrow."

    He hesitates slightly and then dives in to ask, "Would you be okay for breakfast?"

    +++

    "Yes!" Kylah almost blurts the word, unintentionally sounding as if she's grabbing at any contact with him. And so I am, she thinks drowsily. "I... cannot be this bad off for another day. I do not know what is wrong."

    The longer she looks at him, the more he seems like a stranger. Normally she can sense something from him, even when she has not dared try to breach is privacy. But everyone radiates some emotion. Velir, suddenly, does not. Just like her colleague earlier, in fact.

    The thought is unnerving. She thought the colleague was a Vulcan, but Velir most certainly is not. [I]Although he was able to block Palver's intrusion. Maybe he has changed...

    Perhaps I am just too tired. Any muscle will stop working if it is tired enough.

    "Yes," she repeats in a more controlled manner. "I will meet you for breakfast, or lunch, or... whatever is best for you. I shall get sleep and then we can talk."

    ++++

    Rangin smiles in relief, "Okay, perhaps I'll see you then. But only if you feel alright." He relaxes, feels the slight tension that might still be in the air slowly fade as he heads for the door.

    "And Kylah, I forgot to say, thanks. Thanks for all you did with the Aelyrr, you were invaluable. Sleep well."

    Rangin heads through the door before he becomes any more tongue-tied and decides that talking to Roble to find out what the elderly Science Officer thought about that stint.


    Rangin by CIAS, Kylah by choie
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

  8. #2408
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    Nia stands in front of the Klingon captain's cell. "Drop the field, Mr. Kawecki," she says, her head snapping to address her colleague in as dismissive a manner as possible. Her hands are once more on hips, her long legs in a relatively wide stance. She returns her focus to the prisoner in the cell, examining him with haughty interest. "St. Croix. Address the Captain as one should a man of his rank, in his own language to do him honor."

    Kawecki does as Onn asks, but keeps a close eye on the prisoner. St. Croix speaks briefly and the Klingon officer, just as big and imposing as Onn remembers, says in passable Federation Standard, "What do you want?"

    Nia takes a step closer, keeping her challenging gaze directly on the captain. "I wanted a good look at the opponent we defeated. I hardly had a chance to size you up properly on the Naradraen--you were too busy running from me like a scared rodent." Despite her insulting words, her voice is soft. "I'd like to know what you want, Captain.

    "You know what we're interested in: the names and locations of those who hired you. But you've given nothing worthwhile to our First Officer. We might be able to return you to your people if you cooperate. But if you continue being obstinate, there's no fate for you but prison--or execution. Is it really your preference to be caged or put down like a dog?"

    She drops her hands from her hips and walks slowly toward the Klingon. "Maybe it's your pride that prevented you from talking to a human like Vargas. Do you despise the Federation too much to help?" Her voice lowers. "Well. As you can plainly see, I am not human. My planet is not likely to join the Federation any time soon. Talk to me, then. Who hired you?"

    He looks at her and laughs humorlessly. "A Sidonian, aren't you? A haughty woman from a dying race. I have never bedded a Sidonian, I think. It might be interesting."

    Nia smiles. "You would remember if you had, Captain. I haven't tried a Klingon, myself. I suspect I'll get more opportunities to rectify that situation than you will. Especially if you continue as you are." She looks him up and down. "Too bad. However, as for dying, I'd be more concerned about your own future. I come from a planet that makes Gre'thor seem like a paradise--but I was smart enough to get out. You're being foolish enough to seek those gates. That is where you'll end up once those Aelyrr are through with you, isn't it? Sto-vo-kor's for the honored dead. A captain who murders his crew may be expedient but not honorable."

    Brushing her hair from her shoulders, Nia laughs. "But the irony is that you murdered the wrong colleagues. Your surviving crew are betraying your schemes as fast as I mention the word 'deal.' Thanks to them, I know you were hired by someone in the Bavell faction, both in the past and for this particular assignment. They haven't yet given up any names, but I think they will, soon." She remembers Rangin's suggestion and raises an eyebrow, her gaze challenging the Klingon again. "You're a mercenary, Captain Khroth. Everything has its price. What do you want in exchange for your secrets?"

    "Haughty, yes, even somewhat fetching in a reptilian sort of way," he says, "but a poor bluffer. Nevertheless, you amuse me... a little. Ask me five questions, and I will answer them yes or no. Then leave. I ask nothing of you."

    "You're in no position to order me anywhere, Captain. I'll go when I like. If I like." Nia leans in and looks at him intently. "You're not using the brains a mercenary should possess. Why do you think they asked me to question you? A lieutenant and a pilot, when days with the ship's first officer and chief of security elicited nothing?" Her words drop to a murmur. "They know I'm not from the Federation. I wear this uniform but I don't do things the Federation way. You could benefit from that."

    Nia pulls back and shrugs, hands back on her hips, and returns her voice to a normal volume. "As far as bluffing... Do you think I picked the name Bavell from thin air? I know you worked with them for at least a year, I know you were planning on destroying the Naradraen when through, and more, besides. You overestimate your crew's loyalty... and underestimate their interest in reptiles."

    She smiles pleasantly. "Now. I'll ask your five questions. Let's see if you have enough intelligence to answer. And you had best be aware that I know the answers to some of them, myself--I'm just confirming to see how honest a Klingon criminal can be.

    "One. How did you learn of the plan to remove the Codex using replicas?

    "Two. There were other ships plundered of their relics and destroyed. Did you attack all of them yourselves, or do you have partners who handled some--and if so, who and where are they?

    "Three. Who in the Bavell faction hired you? I want names."

    "Four. You were heading back to Aelyrr. Where were you going to meet?"

    Nia's eyes narrow slightly. "And five. Are you truly a band of mercenaries, split off from the Empire for some unknown reason--and if so, why? Or are you actually part of an effort to destabilize planets near your territory in order to conquer them?"

    The captain smiles. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes."

    After a moment of silent contemplation, Nia shakes her head while returning his smile. "It's a shame. If you'd been more helpful, you could've been saying those words to me in an entirely different context. But instead... well, so be it. You really prefer torture and death, then? There's at least one Aelyrr who will gladly watch the blood pour from your skin, one strip at a time, as claws rake down your back. Not an easy death.

    "But I won't mourn. You've been much duller than your cohorts. Who, by the way, will be receiving much kinder treatment, thanks to their cooperation--and the fact that they have all agreed you are the prime guilty party. They expressed ignorance on many subjects, although each of them provided something of use. But to a man, they've named you as the one with all the information, all the strategy, all the contacts with the Bavell."

    She backs up and lifts a hand, a resigned gesture. "So they'll get a few years in a Federation prison, likely as cushy as any Klingon pleasure establishment, after which they'll return to freedom. While you'll die an ignominious death after being treated like a scratching post." Her gaze roams his face with a hint of regret. "Too bad. You amuse me, too... almost. Let me know if you decide to act as if you have a brain in that thick skull of yours. But you'd better decide fast--our new friends on the Naradraen want you in custody."

    She turns and walks from the cell. "Tell the good captain farewell, St. Croix," she says dismissively.

    St. Croix complies, and Kawecki turns the forcefield barrier back on. Onn hears the Klingon captain's mocking laughter ringing down the corridor as she leaves.

    Ignoring the prisoner's attempt at bravado, Nia turns to St. Croix. "Well, I think you and Kawecki can handle the rest, or if you prefer, wait until Cmdr. Vargas returns. Your facility with the language may yet come in handy. As for me... yeah, it wasn't my destiny to get anything useful from this. I'm not even sure why the Captain wanted me to come, but... an order's an order, and I liked the challenge, so I gave it my best shot." Nia shrugs good-naturedly and grins at St. Croix. "Thanks for helping with the role-play, though."

    With a final nod to both security officers, she heads to the turbolift while typing out a message.
    CAPTAIN SINGH, COMMANDER VARGAS: I have just finished with the interviews of two Klingons, to little joy. I'll write up a report on what I was able to glean from this, and send it to you both. Captain, if you still wish my opinion on how to deal with these prisoners...

    I couldn't get much out of Captain Khroth due to his belief that I was bluffing about the punishment that might lie ahead. I think we need to show him that to the contrary, we are as serious as a disruptor blast. My recommendation: send him to the
    Naradraen to enjoy the hospitality of the Aelyrr... at least for the duration of our journey.

    He has shown himself to be a coward. I suspect once in their hands, he'll realize it is better to speak to us than risk a fate with our new furry friends. -- LT. NIA ONN
    Nia sends the message off and takes hold of the turbolift handle. "Deck seven," she says clearly, her mind already forgetting the useless interviews and thinking of one man in sickbay. She hopes, she hopes, she'll be able to see Booker at last.


    Nia by me (except when she's called 'Onn'), everyone else by EH.
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 13 Mar 2016 at 01:33 AM.

  9. #2409
    Member Elendil's Heir's avatar
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    St. Croix nods. "Certainly, ma'am. It was actually kind of fun. I think I'll stay here for now."

    Onn soon has two texts.

    The first: Acknowledged, and thank you for your efforts. Starfleet Command is considering the question of custody and leaning towards keeping our guests with us for the time being, at least. SINGH.

    Glad you tried, the First Officer also replies. Worth the effort, and much obliged. I appreciate the update. VARGAS.

    After talking for awhile, Graham's guests see that he is exhausted and take their leave just before the duty nurse arrives to shoo them out.

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    After her workout, Collins decides a light bite for dinner and an early night, perhaps some reading, is in order for a change. She stops at the Mess for a turkey sandwich and some iced tea to go, then as an afterthought, a couple of brownies to share with Kylah if interested, then heads to her quarters.

  11. #2411
    Ape must not kill ape! general_urko's avatar
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    An increasingly groggy Graham hopes his guests weren't offended--of course they'd probably be offended if I nodded off while they were talking to me, too...

    He reaches for the terminal to type out a message.

    Nia,

    I


    "might be asleep when you get this" was what he was going to type, but he dozes off still sitting up in his bed.

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    Nia arrives out of the turbolift and walks quickly into Sickbay. After asking to see Booker and being told he's asleep, her heart sinks. Damn. I didn't even get to visit him. What'll he think? She looks over in the direction of his room and tightens her jaw. Probably that I ineptly got him blasted and then didn't even have the guts to show up.

    She asks to be allowed to peek in, promising she won't bother him, and finally slips into his recovery room.

    At least Booker's color looks a little better, at least from what Nia can tell in the room's dimmed lights. She walks in silence to stand by the bed and gaze at him. He sleeps on, half-sitting propped up by pillows behind him.

    "Oh, Book," she whispers, reaching out and gently stroking his hair without touching his face so she doesn't disturb him. Her pent-up frustration from the unproductive interviews hits her harder. She wouldn't feel as bad about not visiting him if she'd gotten something, anything, out of the Klingons that was helpful.

    Damn it. She doesn't usually wallow in self-recriminations. If she beats herself up over every failure, she'd never have the guts to take as many risks as she does--or get as many successes. You'll never win if you're afraid of losing; that's what her parents taught her.

    But like it or not, there are things she's afraid of losing. And looking at Booker's worn, weary face, she knows he's one of them.

    Biting her lip, she leans over and, in an almost maternal gesture, pulls the thin blanket up so it covers him better. That's when notices the terminal that's been pushed aside, probably by one of the nurses, but its display still reveals what he was working on before he fell asleep.

    When she sees he was writing to her, a pang of mixed emotions tugs at her insides. Was he wondering where I was? Of course, he must have been. Even if she were only his mission leader, it's her duty to visit; she should've been here, taking responsibility for one of her team's injuries suffered under her command. And as... well, whatever she is, to him, personally... it's even more important for her to be by his side.

    After a deep sigh, Nia bends over and gently presses her lips against his temple. "Get well," she whispers into his warm skin. "I miss you, Book." Then she kisses him--she's careful not to wake him, but she has to kiss him.

    Worried she's about to be kicked out by one of the Sickbay watchdogs, she pulls back, memorizes Booker's face in repose, and slips out as quietly as she came. Her throat and lungs ache, and this time she knows it's not because of her respiratory issues. Nia doesn't cry much--physically, Sidonians don't produce tears as readily as many other races, water being too precious to expend, and emotionally, Nia's just not the weepy type. But she has to blink to see through a glaze of tears nonetheless.

    Annoyed with herself, she heads back to the Bridge to finish out her watch and report on the interrogations.
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 13 Mar 2016 at 02:48 PM.

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    The day draws to a close and night passes as the Yorktown and Naradraen continue onwards. You all sleep, some better than others.

    In everyone's comm account the next morning is this notice:

    I regret to inform you that Lt. JG Fujishiro Tomoe Iota, Assistant Science Officer and Physics Officer, passed on at 0320 hours this morning. She died in the line of duty from the lingering effects of injuries sustained during the Sakathian mission; the best efforts of Dr. Villa and the Medical staff were unavailing. Lt. JG Fujishiro's family will be informed of her passing but, given our current distance from Earth, the news will not reach them for approximately two weeks. Consistent with the provisions of her Final Wishes file, a funeral service will be held at 1600 hours today in the Ship's Auditorium. All off-duty personnel are welcome. Personal friends are asked to contact Communications Lt. Thalen or Science Lt. JG Geoffrey Park immediately if they wish to play a role in the service.

    May our friend and shipmate rest in peace, and may we all be inspired anew by her faithful service to Starfleet and to the people of the Federation.

    SINGH, S.P., USS
    Yorktown, commanding.
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 13 Mar 2016 at 11:02 PM.

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    Collins sits on the side of her bad as she reads the message. She feels a couple of tears on her cheeks and wipes them away as she goes to shower and get ready for the day.

    When she comes out of the bathroom she walks to Kylah's bunk and jostles it gently. "The head's all yours, Kylah. Wakey wakey." She then dresses and pulls her hair back into her trademark ponytail. On her way out, she says over her shoulder, "Catch you later."

    Collins walks slowly to the Mess, hoping to see Cooper there, because she feels the need for a hug. She only worked with Fujishiro twice, but they came aboard the Yorktown at the same time, so she feels a sense of kinship with the woman. It's part of life out here, and it's not like I haven't lost colleagues before, but this feels more personal. She sighs and enters the Mess, and scans the crowd for her paramour.

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    Kylah wakes up, feeling better but still with a somewhat muddled head. She looks around for Collins but the quarters seem empty. There's a dim recollection of someone jostling her bed a bit; maybe that was Collins? The older woman seems to have left quickly.

    She is surprised, at first, to find herself still in uniform. Apparently donning appropriate sleepwear is getting to be a problem for her.

    Checking her messages, Kylah reads the news about Fujishiro. She bows her head in regret. The science officer is Kylah's first colleague to die in the line of duty. It is hard to forget the visions of Fujishiro's injury, the black stains on her uniform, and the weakening of her body as she fell into unconsciousness. And now, knowing she never woke up... How horrible. Kylah shudders at the thought.

    This explains why Lt. Collins left early. It must be especially painful for her, to lose someone injured under her command. Does Lt. Onn feel the same way about Mr. Graham?

    Reminding herself of Mr. Graham's injury is what forces her out of bed. She must visit Mr. Graham as soon as possible. If necessary, she can skip breakfast if she is scheduled for a morning watch. With a frown she realizes she does not remember what her assignment is today. Before heading to the shower, she checks her terminal for any directions.

    While moving to the shower, she notices her limbs are rubbery again, but thankfully nothing at all like yesterday. Kylah suspects she might need to go to Sickbay at some point, and not just to visit Mr. Graham. Maybe she pinched a nerve somehow. It would not surprise her, having been in bed such a long time. Going to sleep early yesterday probably made things worse again, if she is lying on the problem spot...

    Going to sleep early... but I was awoken too. She suddenly remembers Velir. He came by yesterday--or did I dream that? Now it comes back to her: they were to have breakfast together. Oh! I cannot cancel on him again. I shall just have to leave earlier than usual. Kylah knows she had better not mention why she needs to cut things short; Velir will not be pleased by her wanting to visit Mr. Graham. Just as she surely will not tell Mr. Graham that she just had breakfast with Velir.

    Men are maddening, she decides while drying her hair. I will tell Velir I am going to Engineering, as I wanted to yesterday. And I should do so for real, too. Soon she is dressed in a fresh uniform, her hair pulled back with a comb--her fingers are still clumsier than usual and cannot seem to operate a barrette--and, grabbing her new and old communicators, she is out the door, heading to the Mess.
    Last edited by choie; 14 Mar 2016 at 02:44 PM.

  16. #2416
    Ape must not kill ape! general_urko's avatar
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    Graham's running...or at least he's trying to, but he's not making headway. The ground seems to slip out from beneath him--it's sand, hot, slippery desert sand. And now...his legs are melting, starting from the feet up. Now he's running on legs that end at the ankle. Now stubs that stop at the knee....

    And she's pulling away, receding into the distance...

    JaneLizzyKylahCeciliaNia

    Who is it? He can't tell, but does it matter? He can't reach her anyway as hand over hand he drags his useless torso along the sand...


    "Uh..."

    Graham awakes with a start and finds himself in Sickbay. Fuck, for what it's worth my legs haven't melted off, that's something...

    Still groggy and sore, he checks his messages. Bummer about this Fujishiro...and...geez, Kylah can't seem to catch a break....


    He sighs and lies back on the bed. No real point to getting a jump on lying around like an invalid all day, he thinks. He harbors some hope that--however much it might hurt--Villa will give him the go-ahead on rehab.

  17. #2417
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    Finished with her early-morning martial arts lesson, Nia sips some water while moving to the mirrored wall, where her gym bag is. She flips a towel over her gleaming shoulders and sweeps up her communicator to read her messages.

    The news about the young officer's death, though she wasn't someone Nia knew very well, sends Nia into an atypically haphazard, hurried attempt to get herself to Sickbay. The need to see Booker is overwhelming. He could so easily have gone the way Fujishiro did. That he's alive and well is a miracle--and Nia is desperate not to delay proof of this blessing any longer.

    She'll change to her uniform later, and brings it along with her. Right now she's stay in the slightly damp, curve-enhancing outfit of a clingy, low-cut black top and the bottom half of a loose-fitting black yoga outfit. Her hair is messy, half-in and half-out of her ponytail, the rest curling loose around her face. She even forgets to drop the towel back into the laundry slot, wearing it like a half-cape while she stalks out of the gym to the turbolift.

    Finally she's back on Deck 7 and in Sickbay. The attendants are probably sick of seeing her, but Nia doesn't care. She wordlessly tilts her head toward Booker's room and, when no one says no (although they don't say 'yes' either), she slinks quietly inside.

    And he's up. His eyes are open, the first time she's able to meet his gaze in--what is it, two days? Three days? Nia's lost count. Seeing him, a rush of adrenaline and a highly rare flood of anxiety flow through her, keeping her frozen by the entrance. Finally she drops her gym bag and moves to the bed.

    "Hey," she says, still tentative. She curls her fingers around the bed rail. "You're up at last. I kept trying to see you after my watch, but you slept the whole night through. You must be..." The banality of her words frustrates her, and Nia starts over. "Oh, Book, I'm sorry." Her murmur radiates concern and guilt. "This shouldn't have happened. I've been so... " She shakes her head and swallows. Her own feelings aren't important now. "How're you feeling?"

    Her instinct is to wrap her fingers around his wrist, clutching it for dear life. Instead she just lowers her hand, palm outward. He should decide whether he wants her touch.
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 14 Mar 2016 at 05:48 PM.

  18. #2418
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    Graham's momnetarily surprised to see Nia--he's not sure why, he knew she left the flower and he certainly expected her to return--but there's an awkward moment when she pauses at the door and he sits there frozen as well.

    But she breaks the spell by approaching the bed, sounding and looking, he thinks, really worried...

    "Hey, hey to you, too," he replies, smiling and taking her hand in his. "It's OK, that Klingon just slagged part of my leg, he didn't give me cooties."

    He leans forward and lifts their conjoined hands so he can give the back of hers a kiss.

    "Ah, hell, you know, I'm mostly embarrassed." He shakes his head. "Mahmoud stopped by and I think was still too worried about whether I'd be OK to start in on jokes about getting old and slow, but I'll bet he's been working on new material..."

    He gives her hand a squeeze. "Or eyesight going bad...I had my damned shot, should've taken the bastard down." His smile fades and he exhales, as he notices her outfit.

    On the one hand, it's nice...really nice...

    On the other, it hammers home to him that he still has no idea when he'll be up and around. He clears his throat. "I guess I won't be able to join you in the gym again for awhile, though." He shrugs. "Unless--you ever hear of three-legged races on Sidonia? I guess we could spin up some kind of league..."

    He trails off, his eyes dropping down toward his legs. Then he perks back up and looks intently at Nia. "Are you doing OK? That mission was a tough assignment."

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    Nia can't describe how she feels once their fingers connect--his doing--and then he makes the moment even more intimate with a kiss. Her muscles were already warm and loose from the exercise, but somehow they're warmer still, and almost liquid. The underlying tension that's gripped her since the mission has finally melted.

    She shakes her head slightly when he blames himself. Bending down to lean on the railing, her chest resting on her arm so that they're roughly eye level, Nia tightens her fingers. "It was tough," she murmurs, examining his face, all the tiny scars, the bristles of salt-and-pepper hair on his cheeks and chin, and especially those lovely eyes. "But it was made worse by the bad decisions on my part.

    "It wasn't your fault you got wounded, Book. I misjudged the countdown. I should've let those gas canisters work longer. To this day I still don't know if they ever deployed correctly--none of the Klingons reacted to anything except our phasers. But that doesn't matter, I still should've given us fifteen seconds before beaming in. If I had, you wouldn't've..." Nia glances at his leg and lowers her voice even further. "You wouldn't be here."

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    Cooper is nowhere to be seen in the Mess, which is crowded. Collins can hear snatches of talk from various tables, most of it about Fujishiro - reflecting regret, surprise and curiosity.

    Kylah arrives there a few minutes after Collins.

    It is 0832 hours.

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    "Nia..." Graham's voice is huskier than he expected, as he reaches over with his free hand to touch her cheek. "Or maybe an extra fifteen seconds would have given the Klingons time enough to re-deploy into better tactical positions and waste us all on beam-in."

    He clears his throat, but keeps his hand pressed against her cheek while he stares into her eyes. "Nia, yeah, you have to care about what happened--if you don't, sure, you're a sociopath, believe me there are a few of them in command positions, goo many...but you can't second guess...especially..."

    Better it's me than you or anybody else, is what comes to mind, but he's pretty sure that's not a good thing to say at the moment.

    "What I mean is, at least as far as I'm concerned I was--am--more than ready, willing and able to fight back against an order or a plan I think is bad. You're pretty badass, Nia, but believe me, if I wasn't onboard with it, you would have heard about it..."

    He removes his hand from her cheek, and rubs his chin and clears his throat. "Look...let's, ah, look on the bright side. Since you came in, looking, ah... pretty 'bad ass' and, ah, pretty good in some other ways as well...I can attest that while my leg may need some rehab, uh, other parts remain fully functional...Fully."

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    Until the moment she walked through the door to the Mess, Kylah was certain there was no one there. When she arrives and sees the multitude of crewmates before her, she stares in incomprehension. She has prepared herself for the usual barrage of emotional radiation, so to speak, but now there is nothing to protect against. This could be half the Yorktown crew, talking and eating and milling about near the replicators, but to Kylah they seem like holographic projections. They are hollow.

    She tries to pick someone close, anyone, and without even a hesitation forces her focus into one unknown red-shirted officer's mind, his heart. Nothing. Only her own heartbeat thrumming in her ears, nearly drowning out the discussions going on around her. Another crewmate, this time someone in science blue.

    Nothing.

    For the past day--ever since she overslept--there were moments where she found herself surprised by someone's presence, whereas normally she is almost always aware of living beings in the vicinity. She might not be trying to sense them, they might not be feeling anything particularly strongly. But something of their mood, their thoughts, emanates to her nonetheless. That has disappeared. She is not used to facing such blank canvases. She knew her senses were dulled; she'd told herself it was just exhaustion. But this goes far beyond that. A whole crowd of people, and she cannot sense a single one?

    Almost hyperventilating, Kylah backs up against the wall and stands near the exit, afraid to move further in. What is wrong with me? I must get to Sickbay, I must-- But what can she say? Unless Dr. T'Var is on duty, Kylah cannot explain her problem. And T'Var might very well be busy dealing with Lt. Fujishiro.

    She searches the Mess, her gaze wildly scanning the crowd to find Velir. She needs to touch him, to see if he is solid. If he is real.

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    Collins orders yogurt and granola for breakfast, and of course coffee. Yeah, coffee. That'll bring the spark back this morning. She turns, with tray in hand, about to pick a place to sit, when she notices Kylah using the wall for support. She approaches her roommate slowly.
    "Are you alright? Do you need a chair?" Collins is genuinely worried about the girl. Oversleeping yesterday and looking like this this morning? "Would you like me to take you to Sickbay?"

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    Kylah looks with Collins in anxious examination. I should be able to feel you. Your energy. Your confidence, even when it is false. But they are gone, you are not there. She shakes her head, having the strangest feeling that she is conversing with mere air. "No. No, thank you, Lieutenant. I was supposed to have breakfast with Velir and I must not cancel again." She swallows. "I mean... I was just looking for somewhere to sit. May I join you?"

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    "Sure!" Collins looks around and sees a table with two empty seats a few feet away. "Come on." She allows Kylah to move to the table first, then places her tray on the table and sits. As she takes her first sip of coffee of the day she watches the girl for any signs she may be worse off than she lets on.

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    Nia leans into Booker's hand, closing her eyes for a few seconds to savor the feeling. She knows he's right about some things, wrong about others--she's learned a harsh lesson from that failed countdown, one she mustn't forget and can't forgive--but everything he says is appreciated. Not just because he's letting her off the hook, but because he's sincere. At least, he sounds it, and Nia's not sure Booker Graham would be able to sell insincerity.

    When he says that he'd've fought her on the order, Nia inhales, ready to contradict him: there wasn't time, she didn't give him enough time. The frightening thing about command is that people trust you. Or they do, if you're competent, and whatever Nia thinks about that one decision, she knows she's a competent leader. The more you're trusted, the longer the delay between a controversial order and the response to it. Like a stubbed toe, she thinks grimly, except with potentially fatal results.

    That's the whole point of command. It's why it's so vital to be right, not just certain.

    Her cheek is cool without his hand warming it. But his words make her smile, and she bends in closer. "It's lucky the phaser wasn't aimed a few inches away, then. Anything functioning correctly will be rewarded, I promise." She glances toward the door and back to Booker. "I've played rehab nurse to one or two patients in Sickbay before, when the staff were otherwise occupied. At least in that area, my timing is impeccable." Closing in, it's her turn to caress his face--and she follows it with a long, tender--but not in any way tentative--kiss.

    She separates only slightly to kiss his cheek, then his temple. Reluctantly she pulls back further, still staring into his eyes from inches away and smiling. But slowly the smile fades. The thought that this strong, passionate man could have so easily ended up like young Fujishiro makes her jaw tighten.

    "If I could do yesterday over, I'd make damn sure I slugged that Klingon bastard who did this to you. I don't know what I was thinking, a missed opportunity like that. I only hope you'll be up and around soon enough to question him yourself."

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    Rangin sits on his bed and reads the note over and over. He knew the day was coming, that one day Fujishiro would succumb to the effects of Sakathian virus. A virus he had survived. But still, he feels the regret that he survived where she didn't. Logically he knew why obviously, different races with differing immune systems. But still after what had happened to the Sakathians, he is still unsure even now as to why he still survived, Dr Villa had never made it clear what the differences were. In some ways, he had already said his goodbyes to Fujishiro, the story he had read over the last week or so. But still he had hoped the team might have found something. But he knew after OCIII that if the spores there would have no effect, then it was only a matter of time...

    ...and there had never been anything he could have done about it, for Rangin that is the most galling thing.

    He drops a request to both Lt. Cmdr Roble and Lt. JG Park requesting the chance to be at the service. While doign so, he reaches into the closet and pulls out the case with his nhorel, wondering if it would be acceptable to wear it on this occassion. He stops and thinks about it before putting it away, he will decide later.

    Anyway, he still needs to get on with the rest of the day and heads for the Mess Hall to get started. Once he gets there and fills a tray up with something little more than toast and coffee, his appetite strangely absent, he looks round and notices Collins and Kylah sat together. He remembers talking to Kylah and suggesting they meet for breakfast, and besides the pair of them had been on the mission to Sakath along with Fujishiro. Perhaps they wouldn't mind if he joined them. Walking across he asks politely, "Mind if I join you?"
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

  28. #2428
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    For a moment, Graham and Nia are speaking, touching, interacting so intimately and naturally that he....

    Forgets. Forgets this doesn't make any sense, she ought to come to her senses sometime soon. Forgets he hasn't been really close to anyone since...Jane. Forgets... Aw fuck, forget it, Booker...are you going to overthink it or just appreciate the moment, come what may?


    Graham scowls. "Klingons aren't worth it, if you ask me. A lost cause...take 'em down, put 'em down if you have to, but..." He shrugs. "They're too screwed up to ever give any satisfaction. One who sells out their warrior code is too pathetic. One who welcomes a 'hero's death' is too much of an idiot."

    He pauses a moment. "Did you know the KIA?" He immediately regrets what he said, even though it flowed instinctively. "I mean--Fujishiro, the woman who just died? Sorry, it's...just fell into old habits from harsher times."

  29. #2429
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    The Science Officer replies to Rangin, Yes, of course. I will be there myself. ROBLE.

    He also receives this text: Thank you for your note. Did you know her well? Would you like to participate in the service - read or sing something, offer a tribute, etc.? PARK.

  30. #2430
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    In the act of seating herself, Kylah keeps her gaze moving, trying to find someone who seems alive to her. But she doesn't look behind, toward the entrance, and that is why Velir's voice startles her.

    She swivels in the chair to stare up at him, hoping somehow he will be different. But he is not. He might as well be wearing his Coridian mask for all she can sense from him. The hope flickers and extinguishes from her eyes, a reaction she hides by looking quickly toward the table as if trying to see if there is another chair for him.

    "Of course," she says, jerking her hand to gesture to the empty seat. "Please sit, if it is all right with Lt. Collins. I know you and I were meant to have breakfast together, but I got here early."

    She bites her lip, lonely despite the company. Searching for something to say, she blurts: "I was very sorry to learn about Lt. Fujishiro," aiming it to both of her colleagues. The rushed words make her wince. Calm down, she begs herself. "I... I did not know her well. I wish I had. She was very brave during the Sakathian mission. Of course, Lt. Collins, you must be feeling this deeply, as her commander. But I hope you do not feel resp--"

    Kylah stops. It would be completely understandable for Collins to feel responsible, but Kylah has no idea if she does or not. She never realized how much she relies on the nearly imperceptible emotions that she picks up from others. Not wanting to worsen anything Collins is going through, she tries again.

    "That is... we all know the risks. Since arriving on the Yorktown, I have seen that every mission has resulted in some terrible consequence, some of which we could never have expected. But knowing that does not make Lt. Fujishiro's loss any less painful," Kylah finishes quietly. She shifts to Velir. "You must be sorrowful as well?" She peers into his eyes, trying to recognize something beyond the warmth she usually finds there. It is ridiculous. Even non-empathic humans can often judge others' emotions from physical cues; it is absurd that she should feel so handicapped.

  31. #2431
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    Collins nods and "presents" the empty chair to Rangin. As he settles himself, she answers Kylah's question. "Yeah," Collins says sadly, "They train us to be prepared for it, but it's never easy. I've already had my meltdown, though, and I've accepted it. I don't think I'm going to say anything at the service though. I'm really terrible at speeches." She smiles wanly, and continues eating her breakfast, while keeping an eye on Kylah, who still seems a bit out of it.

    "Y'know," Collins says to Kylah between bites, "You really ought to see Doctor Villa about your exhaustion. Maybe you picked up a virus on Anubis."

  32. #2432
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    Nia doesn't blink at Booker's military word choice. She just exhales and shakes her head. "I knew of her. I may have seen her during Bridge watch. As far as I know, she only joined the Yorktown a couple of months ago--maybe two or three? Too short a time to get to know someone you don't serve with directly..."

    She sighs again. "And it's way too damn short a time to get killed. I don't know her record, where else she served, anything. Suppose I'll find out, if I go to the service today. Although I'd rather be with you, or take watch duty so others can attend. I'm not big on formal goodbyes. It's better here than back on Sidonia, but still, not my choice."

    Her thoughts have rambled and she slowly traces some pattern on the back of Booker's hand while she looks at him. "What about you? Did you know her? Seems to me she's been in a coma since you got on board, but maybe I've got my dates crossed."

  33. #2433
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    Kylah looks away from Velir and down at the table for a moment. Could this just be a virus of some kind? Is that why her body and mind have failed her so often over the past few days? "Perhaps. I was planning to go up to Sickbay anyway, to see--" The words Mr. Graham die before they are spoken. She cannot possibly reveal this in front of Velir. "To--to see how Dr. T'Var is doing," she improvises. Actually, even as she says it, she realizes that she should see how the doctor is managing. "It must be extremely hard to lose a patient, especially one with whom you worked."

    She returns to Collins. "I think you could give a good speech. Your voice is strong and you speak with confidence. And you are striking in appearance. Not that you should do so if you are uncomfortable... Saying goodbye to people is difficult enough. Doing so in public is painful, with all those eyes staring at you. But sometimes it is our duty, whether we want to or not. I remember..."

    Again she lets her words fade away. She does not wish to talk about herself, not when Collins and Velir are both mourning a colleague. Instead she looks apologetically back at Velir. "I am sorry, I asked but did not wait for your answer. How are you, Velir?"

  34. #2434
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    Graham shakes his head. "No, I didn't know her." He pauses briefly. "And--I'm glad for your company. And the flower," he adds with a little head gesture. "But don't screw up the whole rest of your normal life just to sit here with me, OK?" He tires to sound confident, but doesn't entirely out it off. "I'm sure I'll be up and around in no time."

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    Frowning, Nia searches Booker's face. "I can't tell," she says slowly. "Are you trying to tell me to scram in a really polite way, or do you seriously think being with you for a half-hour is screwing up my life? Because if it's the former, I understand you're probably tired and want some alone-time. But if it's the latter..."

    She squeezes his hand and strokes it tenderly with her thumb. "I've literally never screwed up my life over a man. Believe me, given my history, that means I've had hundreds of opportunities. So I certainly can't imagine starting now, with a guy who's shown me compassion, honesty, strength, bravery, a sense of humor... and some of the hottest everything-but-sex I've ever had." She lifts his hand, kissing it and eyeing him wickedly while she does. "And we're talking out of hundreds, buddy, so that's no small compliment."

  36. #2436
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    Kylah's communicator shakes slightly. She sees she has a text: Would you like to perform a song during Lt. JG Fujishiro's funeral service? I've heard you're a talented musician, and it would be a nice gesture in honor of our late shipmate. THALEN.

    Dr. T'Var enters Graham's room and greets her patient and Onn. She scans Graham's leg and looks at, touches and handles the wound site. He feels a slight tingling, almost a twinge, but no real pain. She says, "You're healing well, Mr. Graham, and you're free to go now, if you wish. Just don't push yourself too hard. I've spoken to Mr. Vargas. You're on desk duty for the next two days - no running, and stay off your feet as much as possible. I've sent an exercise and physical therapy schedule to your comm account for after that. All right? Any questions?"

  37. #2437
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    Rangin is slowly eating breakfast and listening to the murmuring hubbub around, still trying to process the news from the morning and how the people around are reacting. He looks up at Kylah, when she asks her question and slowly puts the cutlery down on the plate.

    "I'm...I'm not sure how I feel. Sad, really. She is...was a crewmember I had a healthy respect for even though I only knew her for a short space of time. I still feel wrong for managing to survive the virus, when she didn't, even though hand on heart I know there is nothing I could do about it."

    He looks across the table at Collins, "I think you should say something as well, ma'am, you knew her for longer than I did. I'll hopefully be attending the service, but I said my goodbyes a little while ago." Rangin sighs and can feel himself droop slightly. "Actually Kylah, if you are heading to Sickbay to see Dr T'Var, would you mind some company?" Rangin lets out a short, sharp breath, "I need to see Mr Graham briefly."
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

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    Collins raises one eyebrow at her breakfast companions. "I didn't know her any better than either of you. We joined the Yorktown at the same time, and went on two missions together, but we never talked." She finishes her coffee and stands to bus her tray. "But I'll try to think of something to say. I'll see you later on."

    Collins properly disposes of her tray, and leaves the Mess. She knows she has a little time before her watch starts, so she walks over to one of the hallway comm panels, and presses the round white TALK button. She says, "Collins to Ben Cooper."
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 17 Mar 2016 at 11:12 PM. Reason: Computers in the ST:TOS era can't locate people like that.

  39. #2439
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    All her life Kylah has wanted peace from the barrage of emotions forced on her by whatever deformity exists in her brain. Now she has her wish, and it is terrifyingly lonely. She stares at Velir, paying close attention to every word, every emotion he describes. She should be able to know he is ambivalent, even without infringing on his privacy. But she does not, and when he mentions that he feels guilty for surviving, she gives a little inward gasp of dismay and without thinking lifts her hand, intending to rest it on his wrist.

    Usually skin-on-skin enhances, amplifies, and clarifies emotions. All it would do now is... connect. Which would be wonderful in itself, for her, but perhaps not for Velir. Things are so tentative between them.

    She slides her hand back down on her lap, just in time for her to react in shock to Velir's revelation of his intent to see Mr. Graham.

    His phrasing leaves things open for interpretation. Why 'see Mr. Graham briefly' instead of just visiting? She licks her lips and says, cautiously, "Yes, I would be glad of company. I might... stop in to see Mr. Graham myself." Fortunately, she feels a buzz at her hip. "Oh--my communicator. Excuse me..."

    Lifting the device, she reads Thalen's message. It is flattering indeed, but it seems presumptuous of her to get up in front of the crew, some who knew Fujishiro far better than she, and play a solo piece--especially on a foreign instrument. The loss of her zither hits home again, an ache in her stomach at its demise. While she can play other stringed instruments, she does not feel nearly as confident in her skills. Besides, she does not want to be the focus of attention, nor to look as if she seeks it.

    Kylah thinks for a moment, not wanting to let Thalen down either. She types back:
    Thank you, sir. I would not feel comfortable performing alone, not with a new instrument. If there are other crew members who might join me, I would do my best. At the Academy I learned a few pieces, mostly old Earth composers, and performed with a string quintet. Do you think something like that would be appropriate?
    Sending the message, she looks back up to find Collins saying a quick goodbye and leaving. Surprised, Kylah turns to Velir, her face so warm it must be beet red. She murmurs the explanation, "It is nothing. Lt. Thalen asked if I would play something for the service. Velir... I was not certain you would feel comfortable with me addressing this in front of Lt. Collins, but... please do not be guilty for having survived. As you said, Lt. Fujishiro was from a different planet, with different vulnerabilities and immunities. And your injuries were different too. It is terrible that she met this fate, along with so many others on board that station. I am just grateful those wounds did not take you, too."
    Last edited by choie; 17 Mar 2016 at 05:23 PM.

  40. #2440
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    "Questions?" Graham asks. "Well, maybe 'is this a cruel joke?'" Graham says in reply to T'Var. "Because this is even better news that I expected, and I've noticed you have more of a sense of humor than most Vulcans I've known, Doc."

    He smiles and shakes his head. "But I don't think I have any serious questions...just thanks to you and whoever else may have worked on me. I really can't stand being laid up, and it makes me..." He gives Nia's hand a squeeze and glances at her apologetically. "Perhaps, ah, unreasonably...or just stupidly worried that I'm inconveniencing others."

    He realizes he didn't let go of Nia's hand when T'Var entered. Now that he's thinking about in retrospect, he wonders if he should have or she was expecting him to.

    But don't be an idiot, Booker--if it didn't even occur to you to let go of her hand then, which it didn't, don't second-guess it now. Especially given what she just said to you 30 seconds ago.

    "Assuming I have time to hobble off to get something to eat before whatever exciting desk job I've drawn, would you like to come along?" he asks Nia.

  41. #2441
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    Cooper replies, "Good morning, Jeri! Had breakfast yet?"

    Kylah soon has a response: Hmm. Let me think about that. We could maybe arrange a duet. THALEN.

    Dr. T'Var smiles. "All right, then, Mr. Graham. You should be discharged shortly. Take care, and remember my advice, please." She leaves. A few minutes later, an orderly brings Graham a new uniform, underclothes, socks and boots.
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 17 Mar 2016 at 11:14 PM.

  42. #2442
    Oliphaunt SidonianGal's avatar
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    While T'Var is gone, Nia grins at Booker and congratulates him. "You must have superior genes to recover so quickly from a disruptor blast. And I'd love to come with you, as I believe you well know." She's not sure if he'll follow the double entendre-- probably lucky she didn't pun on T'Var's cautioning him against pushing himself hard.

    "...But for propriety's sake I'd better step outside while you're dressing and washing or whatever you need to perform your ablutions." She notes T'Var's return and nods at the doctor, and then Booker, before slipping from the room.

    While leaning against a wall, she folds her arms over her chest and purses her lips in thought. Is he gonna say anything about what I said to him before, or is he one of those guys who can't stand compliments? Oh well, we'll be able to chat at breakfast. With a quick scowl, Nia belatedly checks her communicator to make sure she has time in her schedule.

  43. #2443
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    The communicator in Kylah's hand buzzes before Velir can respond, and she excuses herself again. A duet is not much better than a solo, but she does not want to push. It is surprising that there are not more musicians. Was there not a concert relatively recently? Perhaps there is simply no one else who was willing. That would explain why he asked me, she realizes, feeling foolish at not having realized she was likely a last-choice option.
    Thank you, sir. If you can find another string instrument--a harp, cello, guitar, for example--I can think of some simple but beautiful pieces. A trio would be even better. I learned a piece at the Academy that is adapted for a plucked instrument, cello and violin. Or two flutists would work as well. Their parts are melody and harmony, not anything too difficult to pick up.

    I will do my best to fulfill your request, sir, if you truly think this is something that does honor to Lt. Fujishiro and the people who cared about her.
    She looks up at Velir. "I am sorry that my messages have interrupted our conversation," she says quietly, although Velir himself has been more reticent than usual. Understandable considering his feelings about--no, what he says are his feelings about Fujishiro. Kylah realizes she cannot necessarily trust her instincts in gauging others' emotions. Oh, please let T'Var be on duty!

  44. #2444
    I'm the Cute one! =^.^= anyrose's avatar
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    "Where are you?" Collins asks Cooper without answering his question. "Where should I meet you? Did you see the message about Fujishiro?"

  45. #2445
    Member Elendil's Heir's avatar
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    The Sickbay orderly leaves. Onn is not expected on the Bridge for almost another hour.

    A few minutes later, Kylah reads, All right. Lt. JG John Brooks plays the flute, and Spec/3 Orapin Anand the khim, a kind of dulcimer. They're willing to play. Would that suit you? Please get together with them to rehearse, if so, and consider yourself off-duty at least until after the funeral. Many thanks. THALEN.

    Cooper says a little embarrassedly, "Sorry, I overslept. Just read about Fujishiro - what a damn shame. I only knew her a little. Um... did you eat yet? I haven't. If you have, how about some coffee?"

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khim

  46. #2446
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    "Don't worry about it, I'm probably not the greatest conversationalist at the moment. Thank you for your kind words, and yes I understand quite clearly that it's more a matter of biology than anything else that caused what happened. But still, we are all Federation officers and in some ways it just feels wrong that despite being the same in some ways, we are not in others." He looks up at her with a smile slowly making its way across his face. "And yes, I'm glad I survived as well, after all, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to get to know you further."

    He pushes the plate away from him, a portion of it still uneaten. "I don't think I will have much of an appetite today...for a variety of reasons." He stops and looks quickly up at Kylah, " err. you're not one of them. That came out wrong, sorry." He shakes his head wondering what else he is going to say or do wrong today, even though he really hasn't, but knowing where he is heading to next.

    "If you don't mind, would you mind if we headed off to Sickbay?" he asks politely.
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

  47. #2447
    Ape must not kill ape! general_urko's avatar
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    Graham gingerly stands and tests putting pressure on his leg. Then he carefully changes clothes.

    He chuckles when Nia's double entendre sinks in--then frowns for a moment when he thinks about the "superior genes" comment in light of the whole Sidonian breeding thing...

    Sort of weird thing to say...but don't overthink it, Booker. Heh-at least not on an empty stomach.

    He walks, also gingerly, to the door and approaches Nia.

    "Ready to, uh--go?" he asks. After a moment he clears his throat. "I haven't really shown you much strength, really," he says at a volume meant only for her to hear. "I mean, swimming is probably my least impressive workout. And I totally blew my chance to challenge that Klingon to settle things the old fashioned way." He briefly raises his hands in a boxing pose.

  48. #2448
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    Kylah agrees that they should head to Sickbay, touched by Velir's comment about meeting her and unable to think of an immediate reply. While they are in the turbolift, she quickly returns a message to Thalen thanking him and saying that it will be her pleasure to join the others. She adds, Can you please tell me where we should rehearse, and where I may find the instrument--I believe it was a Vulcan lute--that I may borrow?

    When she and Velir arrive on Deck 7, Kylah feels a little flicker of dread. How will Mr. Graham react if he sees them together? Probably not well, if the past couple of weeks is any indication. "I do not have much time, as Lt. Thalen wishes me to rehearse as soon as possible. May I see Mr. Graham first?"

    But they have already reached Sickbay, and her request is no longer an option--because the security officer is right here. Kylah is surprised to see Mr. Graham on his feet, in his uniform, looking rather well. And apparently using his fists to challenge Lt. Onn, though it must not be serious as the older woman does not seem to mind.

    She instinctively moves apart from Velir...and then regrets it. The gesture was meant to protect Velir from any of Mr. Graham's accusations, but Velir could easily be insulted by her avoiding him. Unsure what to do, she stands, frozen in place.

  49. #2449
    Oliphaunt SidonianGal's avatar
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    Nia can't suppress her pleasure at seeing Booker looking so well, and she beams a smile toward him while ignoring his mock menacing posture. She clucks her tongue and brushes his sleeves free of wrinkles, then adjusts his collar. Clearly he didn't look in a mirror while dressing.

    "There's all different kinds of strength," she says lightly, raising an eyebrow. "And you're more than welcome to hop down to the Brig and settle things with that so-called captain man-to-man. Or man-to-beast, as the case may be..."

    Her peripheral vision catches sight of new arrivals in the Sickbay, and she naturally turns toward them. When she recognizes the pair, her smile remains intact but her mood switches to wariness. Oh crap. Them, really? Unbelievable. Doesn't this girl have the sense she was presumably born with?

    She quickly murmurs under her breath, "Remember, Book, you just got discharged from this place. Don't go crazy and end up re-admitted for a spiked blood pressure. Or broken knuckles," she adds dryly with a glance at his fists.
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 18 Mar 2016 at 07:11 PM.

  50. #2450
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    Off to the one side, Rangin can almost feel Kylah start to peel off and stop as they see Graham and a slightly more than affectionate Lt. Onn in the front if Sickbay. With little time that he wants to actually spend here, he walks up to the pair and crosses his arms in front if him.

    "Ma'am." Rangin nods politely to Lt. Onn recognising her seniority before turning to look squarely at Graham. "Mr. Graham, it was suggested that as a friend of yours I should visit to see how you were doing." Rangin keeps his tone even, as he's not sure why he's here. "It's good to see you have recovered, hopefully with no lasting effects?"

    Waiting to see how Graham reacts, Rangin stays slightly out of the way just in case Graham decides to take a swing at him.
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

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