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

  1. #2501
    Administrator choie's avatar
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    A surge of adrenaline floods Kylah at the realization that their group is to play next. Surreptitiously she slips the program from her lap to the gap between her chair and the one to her left, then wipes her moist hands on her skirt.

    The thought strikes her that with her zither, there would be no need to do this. Moisture is--was--an integral part of how one played the instrument.

    Pushing the thought aside, she glances at Brooks and Anand to see whether they are aware of the order, then looks forward to hear the chorus. Almost all music carries emotional weight, all the more under these circumstances, although yet again her lack of empathic abilities flatten the experience for her.

    She has always enjoyed music multidimensionally, from listening to the notes, to watching the performers, to experiencing whatever feelings are evoked by the composition, and finally--what is missing now--to sensing the swell of emotions of those both on stage and in the audience.

    Still. She is grateful to avoid the sorrow that others must be feeling now. Her own pensive grief for a lost colleague is enough. Kylah cannot help remember those horrible moments in the shuttle, when both she and Velir were aghast at Dr. T'Var's passivity. Perhaps nothing could have saved Fujishiro, but a small part of Kylah will always resent the possibility that that some, any effort, might have slowed the disease's progression. Perhaps if Waite had stayed on board, his knowledge of the experiment could have helped.

    It is all too late now. No doubt T'Var has her regrets... hidden though they might be behind that Vulcan logic.

    She lets the music waft over her and closes her eyes. Her brother, as with all those chosen as Dohlman, is the unofficial representative of the Creator on Elas. Once Tellun was selected to succeed Elaan, thereby making Uncle Aldaan Tel's Regent, Kylah knew certainly that the Creator must be false. Or evil.

    So she does not pray to him. Instead she once again goes through the piece she, Brooks and Anand are about to play, her fingers not visibly moving this time, but the tiny, imperceptible pulse of her commands still rehearse her part on her knees.

    Only when the chorus is finished does she open her eyes, take a deep breath, and prepare to reach for the lute once the trio is introduced.
    Last edited by choie; 27 Mar 2016 at 02:21 AM.

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    Collins sits quietly, still grasping Cooper's hand. She is moved by the service so far, but feels no compelling reason to stand and speak. She cannot add anything to what has already been said, and doesn't want to appear as though she needs the attention. She is content to sit and commiserate internally.

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    Vargas nods to Kylah and the other two musicians.

    Collins sees in the program that, after the trio plays, two other crewmates will offer reminiscences of Fujishiro, and then anyone else may.

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    Kylah takes the lute and, with her new partners, heads up to the platform. Once the chairs and stands are set up, she places the sheet music on her stand, the paper trembling slightly in her hands. When she finally looks at the assembled crew, she cannot help scanning the crowd, though all the faces seem a blur, which is normal for her during a concert.

    Then, like a magnet, one deformed, unnaturally massive face draws her gaze. Her heart leaps in shock and she inhales sharply at the sight.

    A few seconds later, she realizes: of course, it must be Velir. She has never seen his traditional, ceremonial mask before. Embarrassed for having been taken aback by someone else's culture, she drags her attention back to the music. Kylah then eyes Brooks and Anand, the three bound in their mutual silence, focus and wish to share the solemn beauty of the piece.

    Kylah takes a deep breath, gives four almost invisible nods to set the tempo, and begins the plucked beginning of .
    Last edited by choie; 28 Mar 2016 at 12:26 AM.

  5. #2505
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    The music flows smoothly and melodically from the trio. Near the end of the piece, however, Kylah is astonished to see Ferguson and Zweller sitting next to each other. Ferguson is looking directly at her; Zweller's eyes are closed. Ferguson leans over to the other man and whispers something to him; he smiles slightly but his eyes remain shut.

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    Kylah is playing well, as are the others, and she is proud now that they are nearly at the end of the piece. For some reason, during a pause in her part, her gaze shifts to the audience. This time it is not Velir's mask that brings her up short. It is one young man whose eyes are closed. Even more jarring is that she recognizes him as someone who should not be on the Yorktown--nowhere near here.

    Darren Zweller? But--how--

    The shock stiffens her fingers for a few seconds and for the first time she not only misses her cue, but entirely loses her place in the music. Music that she has nearly memorized. But for what feels like hours she stares from Zweller--sitting next to Lt. Ferguson, of all people--down to her sheet music, trying desperately to catch up with what she missed.

    Perspiration forms on her forehead and somehow she gets back on track. Then something else flashes in her mind. Zweller's presence, his scent, his words...

    "This won't hurt."

    Her heart is racing, and she blinks away the sweat that stings her eyes. She has no idea what she has just thought, heard, seen in her mind. It is not a memory from the Academy. In her mental vision she sees Zweller in his current uniform, not as a cadet; and in her quarters, here, not in her dorm. Was it a dream? It feels real but...

    The looks she is getting from Brooks and Anand force her back to the concert. Kylah intended to do honor to Fujishiro, that is why she is here. She must concentrate.

    But her playing is now robotic. It is pure muscle memory guiding her. And a nameless fear thrums through her as the piece concludes. With every note, the questions continue.

    Why is Darren Zweller here? And... why is he with Ferguson?

  7. #2507
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    Graham finds the music a lot more interesting than the religious mumbo-jumbo, and he's glad to see Ens. Kylah at ease and enjoying herself for a change.

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    Collins appreciates the beauty of the music, even though it's not her preferred listening choice. But she notices Kylah's momentary falter and tries to follow Kylah's unexpectedly drawn focus to the audience member that pulled it. She sees Ferguson sitting with one of the scientists that came aboard recently. Are we still on that mission? Didn't we finish it already? Collins' focus is now on the original current mission and thinks about how sidetracked things got over the last few days. Anubis. The Aelyrr. What exactly were we supposed to be doing, anyway?

  9. #2509
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    Nia finds herself nodding off a bit during the latest piece; she supposes she still hasn't quite caught up on her sleep since the shuttle mission. It's not a reflection of the trio's music choice, which is affecting and reminds Nia of the harmonies one finds in Sidonian music. Maybe that's why it's comforting enough to relax her to such a degree. Still, she doesn't want to be rude, and she fights her instincts to close her eyes.

    For about thirty seconds she fails in that particular mission, until a sudden jarring moment rouses her again. She blinks and immediately notices the cause: Ensign Kylah seems to have lost her place, causing some dissonances that don't fit with the music style. The girl is clearly shaken for a few moments before apparently returning to the score. And even then she has a haunted expression.

    Nia scowls in sympathy. "Ouch," she murmurs under her breath, and glances at Booker to see if he's concerned. The expression on his face is... Good grief, he seems besotted. Not romantically, but like a proud parent. Is he so enamored of this fragile royal butterfly that he didn't even notice her flub? Nia is amused; Booker comes across like a world-weary cynic, but with these young women like Collins and Kylah, he loses his hard shell completely.

    "Weird," she murmurs, barely audible enough for him to hear. "The kid seems too talented to screw up like that."
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 29 Mar 2016 at 05:15 PM.

  10. #2510
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    Kylah's fellow musicians glance at her with concern but keep playing, and soon, fortunately, the piece draws to its close - perfect but for her brief lapse. They remove their instruments and music stands, and return to their seats.

    Science Officer Roble somberly walks up to the podium and says, "I knew that Lt. JG Fujishiro was, from the moment she first set foot aboard this ship, a young woman of great promise and remarkable ability. Assigned to the Yorktown on very short notice, she at once proved herself capable of handling any challenge. She soon became one of my most reliable and trusted officers, and was named Assistant Science Officer sooner than most officers at that point in their careers. She was unfailingly helpful and friendly, keenly insightful, a skilled and capable scientist. In fact, she was a natural. She was wise beyond her years, and always a pleasure to be around." He takes a deep breath. "One of my deepest regrets is that she had perhaps too great a respect for our difference in rank, and that, before her fateful Sakathian mission, I never really had the chance to get to know her especially well on a personal level. I would like to think that we were friends - but I will always wish we had become even closer as friends, and not just as colleagues. This ship, this crew, is diminished by her absence. In losing her we have lost someone who might have risen to the very pinnacle of the Fleet, and we have lost someone who made each of our lives just a little better. I miss her already, and I mourn her, as I know I always will - as I know we all will."

    Ens. Rachel Anna Hayes, the Xenosociology Officer and Fujishiro's cabinmate, speaks next. Tears are in her eyes, and she is clearly struggling to maintain her composure. "I came aboard the Yorktown on the very same day, on the very same shuttle, as Iota did. She was everything Mr. Roble said she was, and more. She was a wonderful person, a great scientist, a valued crewmate. And she was...." She begins to sob, and rests her hand on the torpedo casing. "And... she was... the best friend... anyone could ever hope to have. She was... she was just...." Hayes breaks down, sobbing. She cannot go on, and is helped back to her seat by Roble.

    Vargas stands. "If anyone else would like to share any memories of the departed, now is your opportunity."

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    As Kylah walks back to her chair, eyes aimed directly at the floor, her face feels as if it is radiating heat. Not just from embarrassment at her failure, but from the cause of it.

    She sits down. It takes every ounce of will she possesses not to turn around, to make sure there is no mistake and that the person who threw her off is truly the man she knew--and despised--at the Academy. After all, any number of men look like him. Reddish-brown hair, handsome, tall, very strong--

    Her wrist is locked in his grasp and she cannot pull herself free, so she reaches for her communicator but there is no time because he has pulled her close to wrap his arm around her waist and suddenly there is a flash of pain like a lightening strike, he lied, he lied to her, it hurts

    She almost moans in fright at this vision and bites her lip, hard, to control herself. Where is this coming from? Why is she seeing such things? None of this happened, it is not real!

    Kylah stares ahead at Roble, forcibly trying to pay attention to his heartfelt words. This service is not about her. She already spoiled her own contribution to honor Lt. Fujishiro, she will not disgrace herself further by showing such disrespect to a fallen officer, not to mention Roble.

    Through the fog of her distraction she hears just how highly Roble esteemed Fujishiro. It is an astonishing tribute from a superior officer. How long was Fujishiro in service? By now, Kylah must have matched her length of time--active time--on the Yorktown. She has not distinguished herself nearly as admirably as Fujishiro did. The science officer's death is a true loss to the ship, to Starfleet as a whole if Roble's assessment is accurate. Then poor Ensign Hayes begins, and it is clear that Fujishiro was as good a friend as she was an officer.

    Kylah's eyes fill with tears along with Hayes. Crying is understandable, and many around her are doing so. She joins in silently, because she is sad, lonely, ashamed, confused, and very frightened at what is happening to her mind.

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    Collins looks at Cooper and silently admits she needs to say something. She squeezes his hand and rises and approaches the queue at the podium. Solemnly, she waits her turn.

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    Cooper nods at Collins and squeezes back before she rises. Several other crewmembers offer their memories of Fujishiro - some funny, some moving, all heartfelt - and then it is Collins's turn.

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    Collins looks down at the podium, takes a breath and looks up. "There is little I can say about Lieutenant Junior Grade Fujishiro Tomoe Iota that hasn't already been said. I, too, came aboard on the same shuttle. I worked two missions with her. She was dedicated and brave. Very brave. She was an asset to her department and to this crew as a whole. And she will be missed." Collins looks at the coffin, then up to the ceiling. "Godspeed, Lieutenant." She crosses herself, clasps her hands and looks down. She takes a deep breath, then walks back to her seat.

  15. #2515
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    Ajay walks up past the crowd towards the front, a few pieces running through his head, little reminders of the times he knew Iota. But then he knew most people on board, and though she hadn't been on board for long, she had touched a few people's lives.

    Standing tidily at the podium , he looks out across the crowd assembled and smiles.

    “Mr Johnson, you may now smile. You have achieved what you set out to do.” he begins. “These are the words that I will remember Lt. Fujishiro for.”

    He raises a hand and coughs to clear his throat before continuing, “I count myself priviliged enough to have known her for the short time she was a fellow crewmember. Behind the shy exterior was a mind brimming with intelligence and humour and a person not afraid to try new challenges."

    "Whether it was her determination and drive in trying to find out the wonders of the universe with her colleagues or showing patience in trying to teach several people the not-so-simple art of how to make a proper cup of tea, she managed to add a little something to our lives. And once you got to know her, you realised there was more to her than just the Science Officer. She was someone who was going to make a difference and it is our loss that she will never be able to fulfil the potential she had to offer to all. I, for one, will miss talking to her over a variety of topics, as she knew a little bit of everything. And of those things she didn't, she knew by the next time."

    "I am here to mourn the passing of Iota, friend and colleague, I will honour the patience she showed me and remember the smile, as I finally achieved the goal she set me. No, I will not forget the lessons she taught me, to learn, to strive, to achieve and, above all, how to make a proper cup of tea."

    Ajay turns to the last resting place of Lt Fujishiro, "Goodbye Iota, and thank you." Stepping down from the podium, he places one hand on the tube and nods in silent thought, as a stream of images run through his mind as he tries to somehow remember it all before it is lost in time, before turning and making his way back down the hall to his seat.

  16. #2516
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    "Uh..." Booker grunts softly at Nia's comment. "I, ah, guess she did alright," he whispers back--without conviction.

    Probably beat herself up about it, too...

    That particular phrase coming to mind makes him scowl for a moment.

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    The tributes blend together around Kylah, who has almost stopped listening while trapped in her own bubble of dread. But two familiar voices stand out.

    Lt. Collins's words are prototypically brief and stoic, but Kylah can tell--purely by observation, no special insight--that her regret and grief are genuine. Expressing her feelings is very clearly not Collins's forte. That she made an effort impresses Kylah, and despite her own distraction and wish to disappear, she weakly nods to her roommate in encouragement.

    She retreats again into her thoughts when another speaker catches her attention. Mr. Johnson's easy-to-distinguish accent makes her refocus on the proceedings. She has never seen him this somber, not for such a length of time. Once again, Kylah is struck that someone who was on the ship so briefly could make such an impact on her crewmates.
    Last edited by choie; 30 Mar 2016 at 08:43 PM.

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    Several other people offer brief reminiscences of their fallen shipmate, and then there is a pause.

    Vargas comes back to the podium and says, "As requested by Lt. JG Fujishiro, I offer a reading from Psalm 107: 'O that humanity would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to all people! Let them make the sacrifices of thanksgiving, and declare His works with rejoicing. They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; these see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep. For He commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and He bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so He bringeth them unto their desired haven.' Hearken to these words, and may they fill your hearts. Amen."

    "Amen," repeat many in the crowd.

    The First Officer says, "That concludes the principal portion of the funeral. Thank you for attending. In accordance with her wishes, Lt. JG Fujishiro's remains will soon be committed to the fires of a star. I have the honor of informing you that the Captain has selected a nearby, previously-unnamed star, and she has, with the approval of the Federation Stellar Cartography Commission, named it after our late shipmate. We are now approaching that star. Those wishing to attend a brief final ceremony for the committal should follow the honor guard, in orderly fashion, to the Forward Torpedo Bay. Otherwise, you are welcome to attend a reception in Rec Room 1, or consider yourselves dismissed. Ship's company... atten-shun!"

    Everyone stands at attention. The Science Department pallbearers return, line up on either side of the torpedo casing and lift it as one. They silently, reverently, carry it out of the room, with the Captain, First Officer and Science Officer close behind. A recording of somber organ music begins playing as the crowd starts to break up.

    "Did you want to go along, Jer?" Cooper murmurs.

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    Collins nods. She again takes Cooper's hand and waits to fall in line behind the honor guard. It then occurs to her that Cooper may not want to go. She looks at him. "But you don't have to," she tells him. "I can catch up with you later if you'd rather not go."

  20. #2520
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    Ajay waits until it is opportune and then slips out and makes his way quickly to Rec Room 1 to make sure that the reception goes smoothly and check where he is needed to help serve.

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    Rangin silently moves behind the cortege as it moves out of the room. He hasn't said a word through the gathering and has no plans to do so until afterwards. He wonders for a brief moment what his shipmates are thinking, but then he will probably find out at the reception. No doubt tobe asked about his nhorel.

    And then his thoughts turn once again to Fujishiro as he makes his way onwards.
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

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    Cooper squeezes Collins's hand again and says quietly, "If you're going, I'm going." They join the procession of about thirty people behind the senior officers and honor guard. The corridor has been cleared for the occasion.

    Ajay sees that things are almost ready for the crowd in Rec Room 1, but his help is definitely appreciated. Mourners are soon streaming in for food, drink and the further sharing of memories.

    Rangin sees Cooper and Collins holding hands and walking a dozen meters or so ahead. He finds himself next to Lt. Vivien Devereaux, the planetologist, in the procession. "Is that you, Mr. Rangin?" the Frenchwoman asks. "That's a remarkable mask."

  23. #2523
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    "Ah, did you have plans...or want to go to this reception thing?" Graham asks Nia, his mood slightly darkened by the prospect that somehow, in some way, something else might be going wrong for Ens. Kylah. At least Collins seemed OK, he thinks.

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    Nia is still mulling over A.J.'s moving words, not having realized he knew Fujishiro that well, when there's yet another prayer and Vargas's astonishing announcement that Starfleet's naming a whole freaking star after the young woman. Was she related to someone high up? First Roble's certain, after knowing her--what, three or four weeks at most? One mission completed?--that she's an Admiral-to-be. Now she'll be honored with a star. Cripes, if I kick, they'll probably dump me into space and move on with their lives. As it should be.

    Booker's comments interrupt her cynical thoughts. "Um... I guess I should make an appearance. Couple of my friends were up there speaking about her, and I'd like to see how they're doing." She lowers her voice and adds dryly, "Besides, I don't want to miss the twenty-one phaser cannon salute that's gotta be coming up."

    Tilting her head, she focuses more closely on Booker. "Are you all right? If you don't want to go, that's understandable. If you'd prefer to be alone for now, or have something else to do, we can meet up later... if you want."

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    Before Anand and Brooks leave, Kylah murmurs an embarrassed apology for her gaffe, and compliments them on their playing. She does not get up with the rest, but picks up the lute and waits a few moments, hoping the room will be almost empty by the time she rises to leave. Or perhaps Velir will have stayed behind. He could not have missed her mistakes.

    Finally she takes a deep breath and stands, holding the instrument carefully along with the sheet music. She does not wish to go to the reception but feels compelled to. It would be cowardly to let her shame over her terrible playing, or the confusion over Zweller's appearance, prevent her from showing respect to the colleagues who are mourning a friend.

    While walking up the aisle, Kylah's eyes shift to pick out the spot where Velir was seated, but he is not there. In fact, when she looks at the line of people moving toward the exit, Velir is not among them. He has already left. She feels let down, although most likely he is the one who is disappointed in her.

    She lags on the way toward the door, hiding behind some other crew members, and hopes she will not see either Ferguson or Zweller. And maybe I was wrong, maybe I just... imagined him. Her mind is certainly playing tricks on her; seeing Zweller might have been a hallucination, a phantom dredged up by her malfunctioning brain.

    I must go to Sickbay, she thinks, staring at the floor ahead of her.

  26. #2526
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    Graham glances around, looking for Kylah, then turns his attention back to Nia. "I'm, ah...fine. Nothing like a funeral to put you in a good mood, right?" He clears his throat. "That is nice of you...to go see how folks are doing." He shrugs. "I'll keep you company...as long as you don't walk too fast," he adds, smiling slightly.

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    Kylah's fellow musicians say nice things about the performance but she can't tell if they're being sincere.

    The procession nears the Forward Torpedo Bay.

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    Slightly disturbed from his thoughts, Rangin glances sideways to Lt. Devereaux before nodding to answer the question.

    He isn't expecting to speak, but does so anyway. "Yes, ma'am, it is remarkable and thank you. It's ceremonial, the day should be about the person we remember, not the people attending."

    He pauses for a moment and then asks quietly, "Did you know Lt. Fujishiro well?"
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

  29. #2529
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    Nia lets her eyes shine at Booker. "I don't mind walking slower. I also won't mind if you have to, y'know, lurch over and grab me. Accidentally. Anywhere you want to." Her amusement fades the longer she looks at him. "That could've been you," she murmurs, reaching to touch his elbow under the guise of helping him. "If that Klingon had shot higher, it could've so easily been you. Except there wouldn't have been enough to put in one of those makeshift coffins."

    She squeezes him, gently, and runs a hand along his arm. "I wish I believed in something enough to thank them for..." The words trail off and Nia just shakes her head, looking away into the crowd.

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    "Yes, you're right," says Devereaux apologetically. "I'd just never seen one of those masks in person before. Sorry. I knew Iota a little bit; we worked together on a project for Mr. Roble once. I liked her very much."

    http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Coridan
    Another cool sf mask, from NBC's 1980 The Martian Chronicles miniseries: http://41.media.tumblr.com/d746681f4...tcdbo1_500.jpg

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    Kylah trudges forward, clutching the lute to her like a shield. For once she is glad of being short--it is easier to remain inconspicuous, although obviously the medium-sized instrument does not help.

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    Collins smiles at Cooper and squeezes his hand. As they walk, she thinks about the risks of space exploration, and of the inevitable battles with hostile peoples. If I were to die in the line of duty, I think I'd rather go from phaser or disruptor fire than from some unknown infection. And I want to go down fighting, not ambushed. Her mind wanders to all the colleagues she lost while serving on the Enterprise.

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    "I'm not much for 'higher powers,' myself, Nia," Graham says softly. "We can just do the best we can and keep our fingers crossed, I guess..."

    He chuckles slightly, then reaches across with his opposite hand and gives Nia's a little squeeze.

    "But if you believe in fate, if I was fated to go in the line of duty,then really-- any number of previous close calls ought to have finished me." He clears his throat. "I'd be happy to show all the scars in a, ah, more private place if you like..."

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    Nia clasps Booker's hand more tightly, then relaxes. "Yes. I like very much." She moves them forward closer to the door and the reception beyond.

    "Let's get through this, first--if you're sure you're up for it. As much as I'm looking forward to that tour of past battles, T'Var warned you to take it easy. And while I hate to have doctors order me around--and I suspect you're the same way--I think she's right."

    She hesitates and leans over, her words almost a purr in his ear. "At least now it's not just my physical condition that's stopping us. Honestly, if you wanted to put me off, you could've found a better way than flinging yourself haphazardly in the path of a disruptor beam."

    With a crooked smile, Nia moves further into the crowd, turning so her back is to him but gazing over her shoulder. "I mean... am I that hard to say 'no' to?"
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 03 Apr 2016 at 01:10 AM.

  35. #2535
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    The procession reached the Forward Torpedo Bay. Through the crowd and his mask, Rangin could just see what was going on.

    Vargas took up a position beside the photon torpedo launch tube hatch and, reading from notes, said, “For as much as it hath pleased Almighty God to take unto Himself the soul of our dear sister here departed, we therefore commit her body to the deeps of space and the fiery glory of a star in the vast firmament of Heaven, in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life, through the grace of the Lord.”

    Roble, leading the honor guard, said, “Company, atten-shun." The honor guard lifted the Federation flag from the torpedo casing, which then passed through the hatch and into the launch tube. The hatch swung shut with a dull thud. They crisply folded the flag and presented it to Capt. Singh, who bowed slightly before passing it on to Roble. The flag would be sent to Fujishiro's family back on Earth.

    Vargas went on, “In ancient times was heard a voice from Heaven saying: henceforth, blessed are those who die in the Lord, for they may rest from their labors. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we now commit our friend and shipmate’s body to space. May the Lord bless and keep her, and make His holy countenance to shine upon her, and grant her peace. Into Thy hands, O Lord and Creator of the Universe, we commend Thy servant Iota. Receive her into the arms of Thy mercy, and into the glorious company of Thy saints, in celestial light eternal.”

    Listening from the Bridge, Lt. Bennett heard her cue. She nodded and, at the Tactical post, Lt. JG Tadeusz Kawecki carefully worked the controls which secured the inner torpedo launch tube hatch, opened the outer hatch and launched the torpedo on a preset course which would carry it to the nearby star. In just a few minutes, it would be burned to its component atoms by the blue-white heat of the star which now bore their late shipmate's name.

    Vargas said, “Let us pray. Most merciful God, we beseech Thee of Thine infinite goodness to give us grace to live in Thy worship and love, and to die in Thy favor, that when Thy judgment shall come we may be found acceptable in Thy sight, through the love of Thy Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.”

    “Amen,” responded the crew, even the many who were not Christians.

    Lt. JG Park cleared his throat. “A reading from the Book of Revelation, Chapter 21. ‘I saw the holy city, a new Jerusalem, coming down out of Heaven. Then I heard a loud voice from the throne, saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is among all people, and He shall dwell among them, and they shall be His people. And He shall wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there shall no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; for these things shall have passed away forever.’” His voice shook slightly by the end.

    Vargas brought the service to a close. “The grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with us all, and with our friend Iota, forevermore. Amen.”

    “Amen,” they repeated.

    Security Crewman Alexandra Harper, a trumpeter with the Lyceum, had a tear in her eyes as she raised her horn to her lips. The silvery, melancholy notes of “Taps” drifted out over those assembled.

    When she finished the First Officer said, “Company, dismissed.”

    It was over.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9xNoEu3O8c

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    Collins allows the tears to cover her cheeks. She wants to curl up and sob, just to get it out of her system, but she steels herself. She looks at Cooper, and wonders how this has affected him. She's glad to have him to lean on, but has he ever lost someone before their time?
    "Let's join the others at the reception" she says to him quietly.

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    Listening to the words, Rangin is aware of the forms that his fellow Earthling would follow. But behind his mask, he doesn't remain silent, but the words are to invoke the Herald instead.

    As they are dismissed, he slips away quietly from the back, firstly to return his nhorel to his quarters and then to join the reception shortly afterwards. He will only be a minute or so behind, and it's likely that no-one will really notice his absence for the few moments he is gone.
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

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    Ajay makes his way around the room with a tray of drinks, making brief small talk with the various people there and making sure everything is in order.

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    Graham returns Nia's smile. Rather than lurch through the crowd after her, he gives her a little space. He keeps his eyes open for Collins, Kylah, and an opportunity to grab a beverage if any are being served.

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    Cooper and Collins join the reception, as do Graham and Onn. Everything is going well, and Ajay's help seems appreciated. The Captain and First Officer accept coffee from him with thanks. Rangin arrives just a little later. The room is crowded and Fujishiro is being warmly remembered, and sometimes even toasted; there are both smiles and tears to be seen.

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    When Kylah finally escapes the chapel, she heads straight to her quarters to drop off her music and the lute. She types a quick note to Lt. Thalen to thank him for the instrument and to let him know that she can drop it off to whoever lent it to her. Sighing, she concludes, I am afraid I let you down, sir. I am terribly sorry. I was distracted by

    She bites her lip and deletes the last four words, then starts the sentence again. I do not know what happened but it was unprofessional and I apologize to both you and the others whose performances were flawless. Thank you again. -- KYLAH

    At last she closes her communicator and heads reluctantly to the reception. She finds the crowd daunting--especially because they are such blanks to her, not a single discernible emotion. The multitude of guests are merely an unsettling, lifeless void.

    Doing her best to stay unnoticed as she skirts her way around the perimeter of the room, Kylah only pauses to pick up a little pastry concoction, which turns out to have juicy meat hidden within. It is quite good but she vows not to take another, not wanting to be greedy.

    While chewing the last morsel of the hors d'oeuvre, Kylah searches the room for Velir. Unsure whether he will be wearing his mask--which should make him easy to pick out--she slowly continues around the outskirts of the room, wishing she could see above the taller attendees... who are just as likely hiding Velir from her, too.

    And the whole time she steels herself against the possibility of seeing one particular man, who would be tall enough to be seen even in a crowd. Maybe it was not Zweller. Yes, it probably was not him, she thinks, more of a prayer than a certainty.
    Last edited by choie; 04 Apr 2016 at 05:42 AM.

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    Collins finally lets go of Cooper's hand, and after smiling warmly at him, moves around to room to talk to her colleagues. She listens to stories from people who knew Iota, and offers condolences. She also accepts condolences from those who offer them. As the hors d'oeuvres pass by, she takes something that looks like a fried dumpling, and something that looks vegetable heavy. She continues to mill about, then notices Kylah off to the side. She goes to her roommate, taking a coffee from the drink tray as she passes it.

    "How are you doing?" Collins asks Kylah. "You played lovely. What's the name of that piece?"

  43. #2543
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    Kylah is startled by Collins--something that would never have happened before. She looks with slight wariness at the officer; is she being sarcastic? "Thank you," she says with a tiny shake of her head. "It is from your planet, the Pavane by a French composer from the 19th century. But I did not play..." She pauses and does not continue at first, remembering that, as her tutors taught her, it is improper to disagree with someone offering a compliment.

    "I mean... I was very fortunate to have such accomplished musicians beside me. Their artistry is what made the performance." Glad to change the subject, she looks more openly at her roommate. "I thought you spoke very well indeed, Lieutenant. Your words came from your heart, and did honor to Lt. Fujishiro."

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    "Thanks" Collins replies. "but I hardly said anything. I never know what to say. I barely passed my debate class in high school." She takes the last bite of food in her hand and wipes the grease from her fingers on the napkin wrapped around her coffee cup. "I couldn't help but notice, though, that your nerves got the best of you at one point. You looked, for a moment, like you'd seen a ghost. Are you sure you're okay?"

  45. #2545
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    Graham finally spots Collins and Kylah, together, and hobbles over toward them with the best blend of dignity and speed he can manage on his bad leg,

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    On his way, a steward asks Graham, "May I get you something, sir?"

    Kylah sees Ferguson and Zweller from across the room. They are talking to two attractive younger women, one in Engineering red, and the other in Command yellow.

  47. #2547
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    Nia finds her friend among the crowd. Though he's working, she waits for a moment when he's walking with an empty tray, rather than serving, to approach him and gently touch his arm.

    "That was a memorable tribute, A.J.," she murmurs. "I didn't know you knew her that well." Her hand squeezes his bicep as she looks up at him with tender concern. "I'm very sorry, honey."

  48. #2548
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    Kylah inhales sharply and turns away, numb and expressionless. "I thought I saw someone," she says in response to Collins's question, her voice almost a mere breath of air. "Someone who should not be here. It was a mistake."

    Through some fog of fear she sees a room full of red-, blue- and gold-uniformed officers she does not recognize, all merging together into one amorphous sea of color. Then her gaze lands on Mr. Graham and somehow this reawakens her. She feels her cheeks burn as blood rushes to her face. Lt. Collins and Mr. Graham together will likely detect too much from her. She cannot lie to them both.

    "I beg your pardon, Lieutenant," she says, still in that emotionless near-whisper. "I have an errand I must attend to. Please excuse me."

    Hoping neither Ferguson nor Zweller saw her, Kylah immerses herself into the crowd, wanting to be hidden, anonymous. The room cannot possibly be as densely packed as it suddenly seems. With everyone surrounding her, she feels terribly small--much the same way she felt on a day long ago when, as a child, she was playing in a field of tall marsh weeds and realized she was lost. Then as now, she had to push and fight to find a path back to safety, to the open air where she could breathe.

    It was not a dream, she thinks while desperately trying to cut across the room to reach the exit. His presence means something. What? What?

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    "Okay" Collins says to Kylah's quickly disappearing form. She turns to Graham. "I'm numb. I think I spilled everything the other day when you let me vent. I'm sad, but I'll be okay." She gives him a quick gentle hug. "Thank you." She takes a step back to see all of Graham. "So, how are you?"

  50. #2550
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    Kylah is almost out of the room when Zweller appears out of the crowd to her right. "Why, Ens. Kylah! How nice to see you again," he says, sounding almost sincere. He grins. "And so much of you, too!"

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