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Thread: Star Trek RPG - Mission #6: "Marala"

  1. #551
    Oliphaunt SidonianGal's avatar
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    "All righty then," Nia says, pleased, returning to her seated position while this time maintaining a straight but loose posture. "Let's get moving."

    Her left hand reaches for the next deuterium chiller vane--she's long since removed the gloves, deciding that she prefers the flexibility and efficiency of her own protective scales--and starts the cleaning process.

    As she heads for the virtual finish line, Nia finds herself cheerily humming an old childhood song, something her mother sang during her nightly dry bath. The lyrics are lost to memory, but the melody brings back the feel of her Ma's fingers as she scrubbed sand and oil into young Nia's skin.

    The cleansing sand could scour and hurt, at times, but Ma was so deft and gentle that none of her daughter's delicate scales were ever harmed, not an inch of skin torn.

    Nia shakes her head in wonder at the luxurious life she's leading now. Sidonians would never think of using a liquid for anything other than drinking or crops. And here she is, using a cleaning solution to clean some relatively minor tech parts.

    "Hope you appreciate this," she murmurs, jokingly addressing the vane and its companions nearby. "You guys don't know how good you have it."
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 16 Feb 2018 at 12:21 AM.

  2. #552
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    The vanes do not reply, of course, but her work continues to go well. Soon she is done.

  3. #553
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    “Allright,” Nathaniel feels he’s been patient enough with this woman. “You’ve seen him, you’ve talked to him. I need to check on him and get him ready for the next phase of his treatment. It’s time for you to leave.”

  4. #554
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    Kylah knows that Velir is in a peaceful state of mind, and it helps calm her--at first. But she does not want him to feel so restful that he will not wish to leave. Hiding within one's own mind can be dangerously deceptive.

    Then he asks her name. She is taken aback for a moment. Clearly he cannot identify her by sense alone. Which means, she realizes, his empathic ability is dim, at most. Kylah is uncertain precisely how Velir's odd mental abilities are manifesting, but at least this narrows things down.

    He can communicate, at least slightly. He sees her, and seems to understand that she is trying to contact him as well. I am Kylah, she thinks, squeezing his fingers. Kylah. Your friend. And I--

    Dr. Bennett's voice interrupts her, and she shakes her head. She does not want to leave, not now. It also seems that he did not pay attention to her announcement about Velir having spoken. Or maybe he thought she was merely ranting, and thus beneath his notice.

    As reluctant as she is to part from Velir, Kylah knows she is risking the doctor's wrath. He seems the type to call Security if she lags behind. Or he might even lift her bodily out himself.

    "Yes, sir," she says distractedly, while still clinging to Velir's hand for as long as possible. I must go. I am sorry--sorry for everything. Please come back. We need you here. I need you, Velir.

    With all her will, Kylah releases Velir's hand, ending with another gentle squeeze, before backing away. Her body temperature seems to plummet and a chill runs through her. She hugs her shuddering frame and almost collides with Dr. Bennett, behind her. "Forgive me, doctor," she murmurs, shrinking away from him. "Thank you for letting me stay as long as you did. I did not mean to inconvenience you."

  5. #555
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    Nia puts all the supplies back where they belong, then gives a final pleased survey of the freshly cleaned chiller vanes. Stretching one last time, she heads to the turbolift back down to Main Engineering.

    She looks for Dahlquist, wearing a smile like a recently fed lioness. If he's there, she'll breezily inform him that the job's done--and well under his estimated six- to seven-hour timeframe.

  6. #556
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    Ens. Kylah leaves Sickbay, to the ill-disguised relief of Dr. Bennett. He soon hears back from Dr. Antoinette Shane of Holloway Memorial Hospital, who arranges to have a secure traveling container of radiolytic isotope beamed up to the Yorktown. Within the hour it has been brought to Sickbay for Rangin's eventual radiation treatments.

    Dahlquist is surprised but pleased by Onn's report. He says, "Many thanks, Lieutenant! Good work. If sitting up there on the Bridge ever loses its thrill for you, you'll always be welcomed down here."

    Onn and Graham have their long-delayed reunion.



    A few hours later, Lt. Guillaume Vaudreuil is on the Yorktown's Bridge when Capt. Singh steps out of the turbolift. "Captain on the Bridge," he says, rising from the big chair.

    "Thank you, Mr. Vaudreuil," she says, smiling warmly. "Anything to report?"

    "Yes, ma'am. All crew present and accounted for. All scheduled passengers, cargo and supplies loaded. All systems nominal; the ship is ready for deep space. We have departure clearance from Beta Antares IV Traffic Control."

    "Very well. I relieve you, sir."

    "I stand relieved, ma'am."

    Singh takes the big chair and leans back. "Mr. Bennett, set course for Novy Rostov."

    The young British navigator has naturally anticipated the order. "Course plotted and laid in, Captain."

    "Time to destination at warp factor six?"

    She double-checks. "Six days, nine hours, ma'am."

    "Very well. Take us out of orbit, if you please. Ahead, warp six."

    "Warp six, aye," says Onn, at the Helm. The thrum of the great engines grows in volume and power as the Yorktown pulls away from the planet.

    Bennett has plotted a scenic route out of the star system, and Vaudreuil lingers on the Bridge for a few minutes, watching the outer gas giants and lifeless, rocky worlds grow large and then swiftly drop behind on the main viewscreen before the starship plunges into the great dark void beyond. With the Captain's permission, he leaves the Bridge, deciding as the turbolift descends to invite an old friend for dinner.
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 23 Feb 2018 at 02:16 PM.

  7. #557
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    Nathaniel wonders what will happen next, now that this ship is back on course and continuing it’s misslon. His mission, for the moment, is to begin Rangin’s radiation treatments now that he has the proper equipment and there is no one here to bother him. He sets the machines in motion, hoping this would lead to a quick recovery for his patient. There is other things he’d like to be able to focus on.

  8. #558
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    Dr. Bennett is able to find a small, unused compartment not far from Sickbay for the radiolytic isotope to kept safely. Rangin responds well to his first treatment but remains unconscious for now, as the doctor expected.

  9. #559
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    Graham takes a seat at the edge of Nia's bed, realizing as he takes the weight off his legs how shockingy tired he is...he takes a deep breath and puts justfying his promotion to ACOS out of his mind.

    I've been promoted to less than what I was demoted from and nonetheless I've been wound up like a green cadet all day...

    "Ah--how was the...I mean--well, I don't really know what the heck you were doing in Engineering, but how'd it go, Nia?" he asks, smiling slightly.

  10. #560
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    Kylah remains in Sickbay, shaken by the impact of having connected with another person in such a rare, intimate way. Her prohibition against revealing her abilities--and thus telling Dr. Bennett what happened--might as well be a chain binding her from movement.

    She sits for a while before she realizes there is someone whom she can tell, and who will likely be more interested in what she experienced than that arrogant human was.

    If Dr. T'Var is visible in Sickbay, Kylah will go directly to her and ask to speak privately. Otherwise, she will use her communicator to hail the doctor and ask the same question.

  11. #561
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    Nia, having cleaned up from her assignment before Booker arrived, is now clad in a red satin bathrobe. Though the calf-length robe reveals a lot her of bare legs when she moves, it's less revealing than her earlier outfit--as almost anything else would be, aside from mere air.

    As she finishes moisturizing her hands and arms with a jasmine-scented balm, she chuckles at Booker's question.

    "How did it go? Well... y'know deuterium chiller vanes? Sorta... fan blades near the warp nacelles?" Her head tilts apologetically in case she's explaining something Booker already knows. "I just scrubbed five dozen of 'em. It was as fun as it sounds."

    She perches on the bed beside him, one satin-covered thigh pressing against his. "Actually, weirdly enough, I did enjoy it. I like working with my hands. Strange, though... I felt like Dahlquist was treating me like a junior officer who needed punishment."

    A rueful laugh escapes her. "Reminded me of my second year at the Academy, when an instructor ordered me to disassemble and reassemble the same damn shuttlecraft test engine twenty times in a row... merely because she caught me welding a fellow cadet to the hull. One harmless little prank!"

    Bending to grab the handle of the gift bag down by her night table, she suddenly aims a wide-eyed gaze back up at Booker. "Uh oh, perhaps I've revealed too much to such a lawful authority. You're not gonna think badly of me for my less-than-spotless record, are you, Lieutenant-Assistant-Chief-of-Security Graham? What sort of power will you wield--benevolent or terrifying?"
    Last edited by choie; 23 Feb 2018 at 03:52 AM. Reason: tech correction.

  12. #562
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    Dr. T'Var isn't in Kylah's sightline, but the nurse pages her for Kylah, and she comes out to talk. You sit down in a quiet corner of Sickbay and she asks, "What can I do for you, Mr. Kylah?"

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    "Nothing for me, exactly," Kylah says, her eyes shifting from T'Var to the rest of Sickbay before settling again on the doctor. "I just thought it important... I could not tell Dr. Bennett, but you..."

    She swallows and lowers her voice. "Velir spoke to me. Telepathically. I was touching him, holding his hand, so I do not know if the communication requires touching as yours does, but it did seem to make our connection stronger. I could see him, sitting on a hill, looking back at me." Kylah remembers his presence. The utter lack of anger, reproach, disappointment, wariness... all the things that usually have darkened Velir's gaze when he looks at her.

    She huddles closer to the doctor. "When it first happened--when he responded to my thoughts and asked a question of his own--I mistakenly thought he had spoken aloud. I even told Dr. Bennett, but he... he did not seem to notice that I spoke, much less Velir. Then I realized it had been a mental communication. I had reached out to him, expecting nothing, but he took my hand. He answered.

    "The whole thing caught me by surprise. I have never had a chance to speak with him about the mental tests you performed on him, so perhaps this is not news to you. For me, it was..."

    The memory of establishing that connection with another, of their very thoughts synchronizing... Kylah shakes her head at language's failure to adequately express such a joining. But if anyone knows the enormity of it all, a Vulcan like T'Var will.

    "Did he speak to you, today--in this manner? If you already know this, I do not want to presume. But if not, I might be able to help. I can tell you what he said to me, and more--what he was feeling. Because that is what worries me."
    Last edited by choie; 23 Feb 2018 at 04:46 PM.

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    The Vulcan healer raises an eyebrow. "Fascinating. No, I have had no telepathic contact with Mr. Rangin on the few occasions I have touched him, including since his most recent admission to Sickbay. I will take a closer look at the brain scan data. Did he seem entirely lucid? Was he aware of his current situation?"

  15. #565
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    Graham chuckles, while keeping what he suspects is an obviously appreciative eye on Nia.

    "Well, knowing your, uh, potentially criminal propensities...I think it's my duty to keep you under very close surveillance." He shrugs slightly. "In case you need to be taken into custody...maybe even...restrained."

  16. #566
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    Dr. T'Var's questions make Kylah pause. She has kept her mental and empathic impressions secret for so long that speaking about them--even when she wants to--is difficult.

    "He seemed lucid enough," she begins slowly, "though we had little chance to say much. Dr. Bennett ordered me to leave almost immediately. But I believe Velir saw me... that is, at least, he recognized my presence. But not me. He asked my name, and did not seem to hear my words."

    The thought saddens her. Perhaps even his unconsciousness wishes to block her from existence. The difference is that in this... this dream-state... he was willing to listen. If awake, she does not think he would have been that open.

    But this is no time to wallow; she must share anything that might be helpful to T'Var. "What surprised me is that I believe he had a very faint understanding of my feelings. He seemed to know I was in some distress. So there might be some empathic ability, I am not sure. My feelings were very... strong."

    Her cheeks tingle with warmth and she looks down at her knees. "As for whether he knows of his condition--I do not think so. What I saw, what he was projecting, was utterly unlike the ship. No sign of pain or sense of urgency. Quite the opposite. As I said, it was outdoors, a hillside. Bucolic. Peaceful. And Velir was so calm, so content..."

    The unease she felt before at this vista grows stronger. "That is what worries me." She again stares across at Dr. T'Var. "That something in him has created a place of refuge, somewhere calmer, better than anything real life has to offer. If I were where he was, the pull to remain would be very, very strong. It was like..."

    A memory makes her stomach churn, and she must swallow before she can continue. "It was like the effects of the spores, from OC3. That false paradise..." Kylah's words trail away, and she must distance herself from this line of thought. "As--as some described it, in the reports from the Enterprise crew's temporary defection. They left there only by force."

    She gathers her emotions. "I fear Velir might actually be resisting returning to consciousness. Do you think that is possible, Doctor?"
    Last edited by choie; 25 Feb 2018 at 03:22 AM.

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    Nia's eyes shine at Booker, and she gives him a speculative once-over. "You seem strong enough to pin me down all by yourself, Mr. Graham. No props or extra equipment needed."

    By the time she straightens, she has plucked the smaller of the two gift-wrapped books from the bag; now she holds it in her open palms, presenting the package to him. "But before we get into all that, here's a little something I picked up, dirtside. For you."

    'For you'? Who else would he think it was for? Stop acting like a nervous kid! She purses her lips, a little embarrassed. "So, um, here. Take."

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    Now that he has given Rangin his first radiation treatment, Nathaniel realizes he can finally take a break. He hadn’t eaten since this morning is starving. He leaves Sickbay and heads for the Mess Hall. On the way he notices several different attractive men, some human, some alien, as he makes his way through the ship. Another hunger rumbles though him as he realizes he hadn’t been sated in other ways as well in some time. Even though he’d been traveling to some very remote areas over the past couple of years after leaving his post on Earth, he’d somehow managed to get laid often though. And now suddenly he is reminded of how long it had been. Too long. Okay, for some people it hadn’t been a long time, but for him it had been. As he arrives at the Mess Hall and the doors slide open, he hopes it wouldn’t be much longer. Actually, he knows it won’t be long once he set his sights on someone. Being a skilled doctor with a variety of surgical expertises, isn’t the only thing Nathaniel was proficient at.

  19. #569
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    Graham stares for a moment at the item in Nia's outstretched hands. Maybe a moment too long...

    Still having trouble with why someone like her is wasting her time with someone like me, Booker? Never mind going out of her way to get me a gift...

    He shakes his head clear and turns his attention back to Nia's face. "That's..." he shakes his head. "You certainly don't need to give me anything other than the time of day, Nia, and I'll feel damn lucky." He smiles broadly. "But OK, I'll take it...gimme gimme."

    His hand brushes hers as he takes it, gently...then he carefully opens the wrapping.

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    "It is possible," says Dr. T'Var thoughtfully, "but I do not know. His mental processes since the Sakathian mission continue to puzzle me. If he is able to resist a stimulant which would otherwise eventually bring him back to full consciousness, it is possible that a mindmeld or some other psi-related procedure may be necessary. I will discuss it with Dr. Bennett, as Mr. Rangin remains his patient."

    The Mess Hall is about half-full. Nathaniel sees several handsome human men, including two who are each sitting alone at separate tables. One in Command yellow is reading from a data tablet as he eats, while the other, in Engineering red, has a cup of coffee in his right hand and just seems to be relaxing.

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    With an apologetic nod, Kylah watches T'Var. "I would have spoken to Dr. Bennett, but... I could not think of a way to do so. I do not trust him as I do you. Although..." She frowns, turning inward. "I would have thought he might intuit that something was going on with Velir. He must have noted his psi capabilities in his chart. But with respect to your colleague... He did not seem interested in learning all he could about his patient."

    Kylah smiles wanly. "It is fortunate he was equally as uninterested in learning about me. I did a poor job of hiding what I was going through. And I should have told him, I know, it relates to Velir's case, but... but you know I cannot do so. It is bad enough that I betrayed myself in communicating with you.

    "But I had to trust you. I still do. So I... I know--I hope--you will not tell Dr. Bennett about me, unless it is necessary." Kylah bites her lip in thought. "If there is any reason to do so, in order to help Velir... Of course, you have stronger mental skills than I do. I would only be of use if emotions were involved."

    Kylah stands, about to leave, but she pauses. "About Velr's psi abilities," she murmurs, staring down into Dr. T'Var's dark, hypnotic gaze. "You did not see him in our encounter with Mr. Palver. His will was formidable. Strong--powerful enough to resist an extraordinary amount of force from Palver. If he does not wish to leave, he will not give up easily."

  22. #572
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    As she watches Booker unwrap and reveal the old copy of The Maltese Falcon, a light, giddy feeling skitters in Nia's chest. Nerves? Seriously? What the hell is wrong with me?

    "I know I didn't have to," she says with an attempt to regain her usual calm demeanor. "Neither did you, but even with this, you're still beating me in the gift arena. That water lily and the snow globe. And now the lemonade too."

    Nia looks down at the book in his hands while tucking a stray curl of hair behind her ear. "It's... I hope you don't mind that it's old. It was the only copy, and the store owner recommended it... Maybe it's silly to get you a crime book. Cliched, I mean. You're more than Lt. JG Graham, Security Officer." Her gaze rises to search his face. "I very much want to learn more about Booker. The man."

    After a hesitation, she shrugs her shoulders in an effort to avoid seeming too intense. "Well? Did I do good or bad?"

  23. #573
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    Dr. T'Var nods. "I will keep your name out of it, as I have observed that you and Dr. Bennett already do not seem," she coughs slightly, "shall we say, to have taken to each other."

  24. #574
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    Graham turns the book over in his hands, then fans the pages, glancing at the old fashioned typeset style of the book...

    "Well,"--he clears his throat, "I might be better at doing the job than being the man," he says quietly.

    Then he raises his eyes to meet Nia's. Holding the book one hand, he reaches for hers with the other. "But," he says, more firmly, "...you did good...great, Nia." He smiles slightly. "There's an old phrase--'hard boiled detective,' I think, might have gotten it's start with this book for all I know. The Grahams--well, the male Grahams, anyway -they were cops or detectives all the way back to when this was written."

    He pauses and chuckles. "I think they might have aspired to be like the main guy in this book--jealous of the private detectives. 'Private eyes,' the saying goes, back in the day...they got the fame and glamour...and the girls."

    He give sher hand a squeeze. "Would they ever have imagined a brilliant, beautiful, woman--and, uh, alien--giving their nth great grandson a copy of a book one of them might have had on his nightstand?"

    "

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    Kylah feels some comfort from Dr. T'Var's reassurance, and she hugs herself for a few seconds, gathering strength before at last standing up.

    "Thank you, doctor," she says, more of an exhale than voiced words. Before she leaves, she looks toward Velir's room. Her eyes close and she sends a last, warm wish of concern outward, on the infinitesimal chance he can sense her.

    But something has changed. Kylah scowls, then her eyes blink in alarm as she turns back to T'Var. "Doctor... I have been focusing so much on you... I do not sense another person in there with Velir. Dr. Bennett has left him alone. Is that... should he do that?"

    She hugs herself again. "I am sorry. I know it is wrong to question an expert, and I know you will make sure he is taken care of as well as possible." With a deep breath, Kylah forces herself to look at the floor. "I do not belong here. I should go to my quarters, I am so tired. But if there is anything I can do--I know it is unlikely, but if there is--please let me know?"

    Somehow she drags herself toward the Sickbay door.
    Last edited by choie; 01 Mar 2018 at 12:19 AM.

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    For just a moment Rangin can feel her, understand her, know her as his hand passes through hers and he tumbles down the hill, head over heel, towards the path at the bottom and the flow of the people. As he comes to his senses and as he looks back, he sees the now immaterial figure slowly fade away into the sunlight at the top of the hill...

    ...before he has a chance to respond.

    It was so peaceful on the hill looking down, but as he looks up he can see darkness behind. No, not darkness; absence, nothing. No sun, no stars, just inky, cold blackness.

    From the mass of the people behind him, he can hear whispers; calling him, entreating him to join them, to travel far away to leave this place for somewhere better, somewhere he belongs.

    But, though their voices carry weight and understanding and he yearns to go free, something keeps him here, between the darkness and one final journey.

    A longing, a plea, a need for something of him even if Velir is not sure what is, but something seems unfinished, unfulfilled, as if there is another task to complete, something of importance.

    Leaving the everflowing stream of people behind him, he slowly begins to make his way back up the hillside, to where he was sat some time ago.

    To wait.

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    Nia sighs, half in pleasure for Booker's gratitude and praise, and half in tender frustration at his inability to accept himself as 'worthy' of her.

    And a third half, if possible, in puzzlement at some of the phrases he's using. Not for the first time, Nia suspects the Universal Translator has fumbled in its attempt to provide a Sidonian equivalent to some Federation Standard idiom. What the heck could 'hard-boiled' mean in this context?

    Fortunately, some things are almost impossible to miscommunicate. Leaning toward him, Nia takes his face in both hands and, with an intense, longing stare, captures his gaze.

    "You're doing a wonderful job at being a man, Book," she says softly. "A man I admire. A man I care about." Nia is now close enough to kiss him, and she does, with lips feather-light against his own. "A man I want. Very, very much."
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 28 Feb 2018 at 11:50 PM.

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    "Not bad," Nathaniel thinks. "Not bad at all."

    So far, this ship seems to have more than a few good looking human men. Not that Nathaniel limits himself to humans. If he finds them attractive and their - ahem - physiologies were compatible, he is known for some inter-species minging. You had to be careful about alien men sometimes, Nathaniel reminds himself. Some of them had the natural ability to bear and give birth to children. And babies, no matter the species, is something Nathaniel has no interest in.

    He notes the two good-looking guys, one from Engineering and other in Command yellow who sat alone. Either of them would do, especially for a quick, emotion-free hour or two of sheet sweating sex in one's quarters. Hell, he'd have them both if they were into it. His gaydar is pretty acute, but he is unable to tell much so far. He walks across the Mess Hall obtensively to get himself something to eat, but his focus is on the two men and trying to make eye contact.

    Let the games begin.

  29. #579
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    Graham feels himself respond: tension falls from his shoulders, his hands reach for Nia's hips, and...other things.

    "'Fraternizing with known criminals' could get me in trouble, but maybe let's keep your checkered past and this moment to ourselves, hm?" he says quietly after her kiss.

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    Before Kylah leaves, Dr. T'Var says, "The duty nurse remotely monitors all patients, and also looks in on them periodically. The worst is now behind Mr. Rangin, I believe, and I assure you that he will receive the best care we can provide."

    The man in Command yellow keeps reading intently and does not look up. He has a lieutenant's stripes on his sleeves. The man in Engineering red is apparently an ensign or holds some lower rank, as there is no braid on his sleeves. He seems to notice Dr. Bennett as he walks by, glances at him, then smiles and looks away. Bennett cannot quite read his expression.

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    "I... I hope you are right," Kylah murmurs with a last glance backward. Privately, she also hopes T'Var is speaking from an informed position: as far as Kylah can tell, the unpleasant new human doctor seems to have left Sickbay without speaking to his colleague or giving her any update on Velir's condition.

    Perhaps he sent her a message. Surely Dr. T'Var will keep up-to-date. She has treated Velir and served with him on our missions. She must care for his welfare.

    Again she thanks T'Var. The Sickbay doors whoosh open and then close behind her as she leaves.

    Her stomach growls rather audibly. Self-conscious, Kylah places a hand over her empty belly, shaking her head. She will not risk going to the Mess Hall again. She doubts she will find the food any more edible than before--and worse, if Mr. Ferguson was correct about gossip flying around due to her behavior around Velir, she prefers to avoid any large crowds.

    Instead she heads directly to her quarters, planning to make do with some water from her sink. This will mean another day of near starvation, but there is something rather satisfying about the sacrifice, the denial. It is cleansing and pure; a sense of control.

    Walking down the corridor, she pulls at the material of her uniform, which once stretched tightly across generous curves, but now drapes as listlessly as she feels. Shrugging, Kylah makes a mental note to request new regular uniforms in a smaller size--not to mention a dress uniform. Which reminds her of the unanswered invitation to the Captain's dinner.

    Once in her quarters, she will take care of both the wardrobe request to the Quartermaster and the RSVP to dinner.
    Last edited by choie; 03 Mar 2018 at 04:00 PM. Reason: mad with power. Also, plurals require different verbs, duh.

  32. #582
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    Booker tastes so delicious, Nia moans in slight disappointment when his mouth moves away long enough to speak. She contents herself by nuzzling against the warm, beating pulse at the edge of his collar.

    "Fraternizing sounds perfect," she whispers in between kisses and teasing nibbles. "But one of us is overdressed for it. And I'm pretty sure it's not me."

    Her hand slips underneath his red top to lightly brush her nails across his abdomen. Then she pats him--enjoying the muscles that his years haven't erased--and backs away, breathing heavily. "And me, I need to hop into the head for a sec. I wasn't expecting you quite so soon, and I need to, um, get ready.

    "So," she says as she reluctantly slides from the bed. "Why don't you put the book away somewhere safe, get comfortable and less... uniformy... and then we'll see what happens."

    Moving to the bathroom door, she starts to cross the threshold but first targets Booker with a laser-like stare. "No pressure or anything."

    But before she lets the door close behind her, her wide smile unambiguously demands everything wicked, wild, passionate and playful Booker can give her--and promises the same for him.

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    Kylah is able to get a new red uniform without any difficulty, and it does seem to fit better, she thinks. The Captain's Yeoman promptly acknowledges her RSVP in a polite text.

    The Yorktown continues to sail through deep space towards the distant colony of Novy Rostov.

  34. #584
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    Graham watches the door shut behind Nia, and then promptly begins removing his uniform...with the sudden movement reminding him how tired he is.

    Jeez, my arms feel like lead...long day... He shakes his head, finding a chair over which to drape his clothes.

    He lies back down on the bed, still turning the book over in his hands. It's been a relatively long time since they've been, uh--dating, during which they haven't ever quite...finalized...their intimate relationship. He looks at the old paperback's cover...

    The past. Somehow always seems better. Somehow I'm still there... He frowns: I want to be here for Nia, when we, you know...

    He sets the book aside and lies down, closing his eyes for a moment. It's just that I haven't actually really--never mind loved, been in a situation where me and whoever cared about anything more than physical since...Jane.

    He takes a deep breath. Yeah well, that's the past, he reminds himself.

    This is the present. Nia is the present. Nia is...

    His third deep breath takes him into sleep.

  35. #585
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    Nia drops her robe and looks in the mirror. Her face is flushed. Actually, all her skin is flushed. And her scales are almost invisible, having retreated inward as if melted away by every touch of Booker's fingers.

    Her body is ready for him. It trusts him. Her defenses are, quite literally, down.

    She laughs softly. I'll have to tell him why they're gone. This man deserves to know just how rare this is.

    With a wave of her hand, she opens the bathroom door behind her, so she can talk while she prepares herself. She's not shy, and it's not as if she's doing anything embarrassing. Nia hums as she reaches inside her medicine cabinet for the hypospray on the bottom shelf.

    From outside she hears the rustle of sheets and decidedly masculine breathing. Little delicious tingles suffuse her body at the mental image of Booker lying in wait for her.

    "Won't be long," she says playfully, lifting the hypospray. "Sorry, I need to take care of the birth control issue. One shot per month might work for the rest of the gals, but I'm kind of a special case. As I hope you've noticed," she adds with a wry glance in the mirror at the darkened room outside.

    Nia aims the device at the usual spot, this time on her right shoulder; she alternates every two weeks, although the hypospray doesn't exactly hurt. "It's no big deal," she continues breezily. "I just need a booster dose. Two per month, as opposed to one."

    She omits that part of the reason is because she's super-fertile--her prolific nature being the chief reason she was such a valued resource back home. Instead she just closes her eyes and pushes the button, feeling the weird, ice-cold pressure pass through her skin into her veins. And she keeps her voice light.

    "It's funny, actually. Way back at the Academy, when I was being poked and prodded and examined and studied like a brand new xenobiological prize, the docs realized that not only was I, uh, compatible with most other humanoid males, reproductively speaking. But also, the usual birth control methods weren't packing the same punch. Or, like, any punch at all. So they had to get creative."

    Nia replaces the hypospray in her cabinet and absently rubs the affected spot on her shoulder. "Since the usual monthly injection was useless, they doubled the dosage. And that... well, it was successful, I guess, because it sure as hell prevented ovulation.

    "...Trouble was, my immune system treated the concoction like it was being invaded by Klingons in full battle gear. The allergy had some side effects that were, shall we say, exceedingly unpleasant."

    These particular specifics she definitely won't be sharing with Booker. She still winces when she recalls the swelling blisters, the itching, burning appearance of scales in absolutely the worst places anyone would want to be swollen, blistery, itchy, burning or scaly.

    Nia rinses and dries her hands as she finishes her story. "In the end, what did the trick was simply going to two monthly injections at only a slightly higher dosage. Hallelujah! At last I had the freedom to, y'know, enjoy myself. Recreationally. A lot.

    "That's not allowed back home, like I've told you. Procreative mating only. Anything else is betraying a Sidonian's most sacred duty. Which means for a dozen years I've been a traitor, many, many times over."

    Nia turns and moves into the doorway, her long, curvy figure silhouetted by the light behind her--but only until she exits and moves toward the bed. "Since you were open-minded about the prank thing," she murmurs, a sideways smile forming as she reaches for the cover and slips beside the warm, powerful man lying beneath. "...I trust committing a little treason isn't a turn-off?"
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 04 Mar 2018 at 05:21 AM.

  36. #586
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    Kylah sits back in her chair, looking away from her terminal after having RSVPed her reluctant 'yes' to the Captain's dinner.

    I should contact Aldaan. The unpleasant knowledge tugs at her insides, much like the sudden change of gravity did during the orbital skydiving atmosphere re-entry this morning.

    Her uncle really has been ominously silent since her last apologetic message. She thought so earlier, and now that another day has gone by without word, the absence of a response feels even more egregious. More purposeful.

    He knows how torn she is in her feelings toward him. She resents and fears his power over her as her Guardian and the leader of the Regency Council--the man whose orders she must obey.

    And yet... she has not lost the love she bears for him, as her uncle. As the only Elasian who knows almost all her secrets, the only family member who protected her, who treasured and valued her.

    She wrenches herself back to face the terminal. This will be her third attempt at communication. Perhaps a visual message will soothe his anger?

    With a few taps on her keypad, Kylah sets up the recording. She does not think to check her appearance, other than to push her curly hair off her shoulders so it falls down her back. Uncle Aldaan has praised her hair before, but always teased her for using it like a curtain behind which she hid her over-expressive gaze. "Let the world see your beautiful eyes, dear little one," he would chuckle. "Learn to control your emotions from within."

    Such control is not natural for Elasian women, but--as she has been told over and over--she is not wholly Elasian. If the stain of her human blood has any value besides enabling her to enter Starfleet, it is that it has dampened the fire of her Elasian heritage.

    Kylah takes a deep preparatory breath and taps the command to record.

  37. #587
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    Nia frowns when Booker doesn't respond immediately.

    She rests an elbow on the pillow and caresses his face. "Have I left you speechless?" she jokes. "That's flattering--or maybe gentlemanly--but I wouldn't mind at least a raised eyebrow, a whistle or even a thumbs-up."

    Her keen night vision has already adjusted to the dimness. That's when she notices his closed eyes. And his breathing--slow, even and deep.

    "Hey." Nia's hand brushes his jawline, lifting his face even as her own spirits sink, just slightly. "Booker?"

    She peers at him. Holy crap, he is most definitely asleep.

    He has looked tired and drawn since arriving in her quarters. Now that he's in slumber, he still looks drained, but seems years younger.

    Damn it. I should've realized... She shakes her head, annoyed at herself. She knows his day began way the hell up in a space station, continued with a freak emergency where he had to save the life of a guy he despises, got worse thanks to yet another chapter in the saga of Princess Kylah's nonstop angst, and capped off by an unexpected promotion that piled on a fuckton of extra responsibilities.

    Yeah.... no, Nia thinks with a sigh. This was never gonna happen tonight.

    Her smile turns tender but rueful as she gazes down at him. "Okay, mister," she murmurs, "we'll do this your way." Shifting her hip, she scootches down while ever-so-carefully slipping her arm underneath him, then cradles him so his cheek lies upon the pillow of her breast. The slight scratch of his stubble, the heated breaths against her delicate skin, fill her with contentment.

    It's not sex. It's not ecstasy. But it's lovely.

    Leaning back against the headboard, Nia lets her fingers rhythmically comb through his hair, and she kisses the crown of his head.

    "Sweet dreams, Book," she whispers.

  38. #588
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    There's gentle pressure different places.

    Head, cheek...soft, but solid like an anchor to a place of safety.

    Safe. Loved.

    At this moment you're not letting anyone down. Leaving anyone alone who shouldn't be.


    Graham's far from awake, but far from insensible as well. Some combination of mind and body meet in a place where knotted balls of release.

    His body melts into the bed and the warm presense nearby. His breath catches for a second, and then releases in a long shuddering sigh.

    A woman's scent, words...

    He falls...no, flows...into a dark welcoming wonderful long-lost place.

    "Sweet dreams, Jane," he whispers on the way.

  39. #589
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    Kylah starts her transmission with the usual niceties and appropriate greetings; after the rigid formalities are over, she softens into a more familiar tone.

    "...I am sorry to trouble you with yet another communication, Uncle, but I... I am worried that I have not heard back from my two previous messages."

    She hesitates, then leans forward slightly, searching her terminal as if she can see Aldaan himself somewhere within. "Are you truly so unable to forgive me? I know my mistakes have been plentiful. Yet I have apologized, over and over again. Do you doubt my remorse?"

    Her hands grip the edge of her desk. "That is why I am sending this to you, in this way--in a visual format. So you can see how sincere I am. You know I cannot dissemble from you. Millions of kilometers away, you see me. You always have."

    This is, itself, a lie, but the few secrets she has managed to hold close to her are vastly outweighed by all she has shared--all she has been forced to share--with her guardian.

    "I must beg you to ignore the vile rumors and gossip you heard of my alleged behavior on Omicron Ceti III. It is not true. None of it was true." Her voice turns hoarse with her emphatic denial--even though, to her shame, there was at least one truth among the lies. But she must deny it all.

    "And I know I cannot replace your mother's zither. I mourn that every day." She licks her lips, practicing her words carefully. This part of the message must be obfuscated, on the slim chance anyone overhears it.

    "...Still, hopefully it has pleased you that thanks to the borrowed Vulcan lute, I have kept up my music practice as you wished. Have--have my compositions met your approval? I did my best to impart as much meaning as I could in the melody, and the harmonies... I thought you would find them unusually moving."

    This has to be true. Her last coded message had contained information about the Aelyrr mission, and most importantly, the renegade Klingons who were now in Starfleet captivity. Anything involving the Klingons is of the supreme priority as far as her Guardian was concerned. Who knows what value the Klingons would place upon hearing the battle from Starfleet's perspective? And how highly they would esteem Aldaan for conveying it to them?

    She bites her lip hard enough that she suddenly worries about breaking through the skin. Should she mention tomorrow night? Her invitation to the dinner makes no sense to her, and she cannot fathom its purpose. Still, the information could be so intriguing that Aldaan's curiosity might get the better of his anger.

    "Unfortunately, as you heard, the Vulcan lute is a difficult instrument to master," she says slowly. "If I had more skill, I might be able to entertain the Captain and the other senior officers--for I have been invited to a prestigious dinner, Uncle. Tomorrow night, as I record this. Despite my low rank and--and the stumbles I have made in my duties on the ship--they continue to treat me quite generously.

    "I believe they do so out of respect to you, Uncle, and to Elas. I am humbled to have been included. And it would be the least I could do, to entertain them with Elasian artistry. Last time I recited a poem--Her Unheard Lament, my favorite of the Songs of Shareenah. It was very well received," she adds, unable to keep the wistfulness from her tone. Velir seemed to approve. He did not understand it, but he was kind enough... then.

    "...But while I am not proficient enough to play for the dinner," Kylah goes on, even more carefully, "Perhaps the event will inspire a song of its own. As you have taught me, Uncle, one never knows whence inspiration may spring. I promise to send you any compositions I might create. Your encouragement of my artistic endeavors makes me strive to improve."

    She goes on to send more personal messages to her family--to her brother Tellun first, of course, as befits his stature as Dohlman--and her sister, and the household servants. By the end, she once more asks... no, begs... Aldaan to forgive her, and to respond.

    "I miss you, Uncle," Kylah finishes, now revealing her genuine vulnerability. "I need a familiar voice, or even just your words on a screen. Whatever you can send. There are a thousand souls around me, but I am almost completely alone."

    Finally she ends the recording--and saves it, unsent. Weary and needy though she may be, Kylah is not foolhardy enough to transmit the message immediately. She will watch it again in the morning, just in case she inadvertently revealed damaging information--or left anything important out.

    Exhaustion overtaking her, she folds her arms on the desk before bowing her head to rest. One hand is placed on her communicator--if T'Var contacts her about Velir's condition, she wants to make sure she can respond as quickly as possible. Her eyes fall closed, and before long she has fallen into a deep but unsettling sleep.
    Last edited by choie; 07 Mar 2018 at 07:42 AM.

  40. #590
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    Nia's fingers freeze in their gentle motion of combing through Booker's hair. She holds her breath, wondering if she misheard his half-mumbled words.

    Jane?

    After a silent, motionless eon that probably just lasts a second or two, Nia returns to stroking his hair, although she's now more awake and distracted.

    All right, so he's thinking of his late wife. That's... it's not a tragedy. Right?

    She frowns in response to her own question. Of course she's right. The timing sucks, yeah. But it could've been a lot worse. If he hadn't fallen asleep and they'd been busy at what they should've been doing right now, Book uttering his wife's name would've been embarrassing as hell. For both of them.

    So... so he's relaxed. Feels comfortable. Wishes he was with the love of his life. Totally understandable. Almost flattering, I guess.

    A sudden thought briefly twists her lips into a sideways smile. Anyway. At least it wasn't 'Cecilia.'

    But the smile fades, and she rests her cheek against Booker's head, deep in thought. A stab of longing hits her, one she's rarely felt when it comes to anything other than the children torn from her arms.

    This unknown, long-dead woman represents something unique to Booker. Her name means comfort; contentment. Love.

    Nia wants someone to feel that way about her.

    After a long, searching stare into the ever-dark, star-heavy universe outside the ship, she closes her eyes and voicelessly mouths her name into the night. And wonders if she'll ever hear it murmured, in the same exquisitely blissful way, by Booker.
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 07 Mar 2018 at 02:20 AM.

  41. #591
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    Engineering it is, Nathaniel thinks with a smile. Suddenly he wasn’t all that hungry, more interested in building up an appitite right now. Instead he gets himself a cup of black coffee and takes a sip of the steaming dark brew as he boldly walks right up to the table where the young man in red sat.

    “Hello.” Nathaniel greets as he holds out his hand. “I’m Dr. Nathaniel Bennett. And you are?”

  42. #592
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    "Mark Ward," the young redshirt says, taking Bennett's hand and giving it a firm shake. "You're the new sawbones, right? Welcome aboard." He gestures. "Take a seat, if you like."

  43. #593
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    "Sawbones, eh?" Nathaniel takes the offered seat. "I can't remember the last time I heard anybody used that old Earth phrase."

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    Ward smiles. "It's having a bit of a resurgence, I guess, since Kirk called his CMO that. Maybe it's just a fad. How do you like the Yorktown so far?"

  45. #595
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    Ens. Ward and Dr. Bennett chat briefly before Ward, with a polite apology, has to go on duty. The doctor is left unsure of Ward's sexual orientation.

    The night passes and you wake up the next morning. All seems well aboard the Yorktown; you each have a watch to stand before the senior officers' dinner tonight.

  46. #596
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    Nathaniel is feeling a bit irritated this morning, but he knows it's because he hasn't scratched the itch that only another man could reach. Mark (was that his name?) rushed off before things got interesting. Nathaniel isn't sure why, even though the man provided an excuse, though he is sure it's not because the man didn't find him attractive. They all did. Then again, Nathaniel's well honed gaydar didn't ping when talking to Mark, so maybe he is barking up the wrong tree to begin with. Ah well.

    But today is another day, hopefully opportunity would come his way. Who knows what the dinner tonight could bring. They were usually boring as hell, but a pretty face and tight body could brighten things up. Nathaniel dresses and has a quick bite to eat in his quarters and then realizes he needs to get to sickbay to see how Rangin was doing. Duty calls.

  47. #597
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    Rangin's condition is slightly improved, although he remains unconscious. Bioscans show that the radiation treatment appears to be having the desired effect.

  48. #598
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    Despite a sore neck--from several hours sleeping first at her desk, then tossing and turning in her bed--Kylah rushes through her morning tasks before her watch. She has checked and sent her message to Uncle Aldaan; dashed through a shower and thrown on her new uniform; practically fled to a rec room replicator to gulp down some toast and a half-cup of hot chocolate; and, now, walks through the corridor toward Sickbay.

    She has no intention of entering without permission: Kylah will not risk angering that new doctor again. Besides, she needs to get to the Bridge for her watch. Instead, she parks herself a strategic few meters from the Sickbay entrance. Opening her communicator, she taps out a request of Dr. T'Var.

    Has there been any change in Mr. Rangin's status? And please, may I see him? Just for a moment?

    She bounces anxiously on her toes. If T'Var gives her the go-ahead, even for the briefest of visits, Kylah is more than ready to take advantage of whatever time with Velir she is allowed.
    Last edited by choie; 15 Mar 2018 at 10:59 PM.

  49. #599
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    T'Var texts, Mr. Rangin seems to be doing better, according to the night watch duty nurse's report. I have not seen him this morning myself yet. I have no objection to you seeing him, but am off-duty at the moment. T'VAR.

  50. #600
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    While she slowly closes her communicator, Kylah bites her lip in thought. She would really like to see Velir, but the thought of clashing with Dr. Bennett worries her.

    Perhaps one of the other doctors will be on duty? Dr. Bucci has been gracious toward her, and Dr. Villa, while intimidating in her status as CMO, has at least not been unfriendly.

    She lifts her head and puts away the device. If she is brave enough to reach out to Uncle Aldaan, surely she can risk the wrath of one dismissive doctor. I have the right to check in on a crewmate. Refusing to allow herself time to change her mind, Kylah walks through the Sickbay entrance and looks to see who is there.

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