Star Trek RPG - Mission #6: "Marala"

[Rangin]

Rangin realises why there is now a discrepancy and there is little he can do about it. Cheverez insisting on a larger than necessary amount of life support for any non-adult is probably the reason why. Even though on average, they would be half, maybe two-thirds at a push. It also means that Mr Dosmukhambetov was not using the environmental data he included in his data set but the values ordered by Cmdr Cheverez.

And with that, although the principle is there, they will not save as many as they could. Life Support will be redlined they entire way back to back up the viewpoint, Rangin expects nothing less, but at least they can save a few more.

"Thank you, Sir, I will let you know if there is any change to the data if I get a chance to access it."

Rangin nods to him and walks out of the door to the turbolift, not wanting to wait for the call to the Captain to be made.

He waits lost in his thought and torn between having saved some people and not saving enough. As the doors open he steps in unthinkingly and comes face-to-face with Kylah.

He is unsure what to say to her, but he nods to her although she is looking as weary as he is by the situation. So he moves to one side and reaches up to hold the handle.

"Umm, Shuttle Bay." he says forcing his voice to remain calm and wondering if he should look at her or try to stare fixedly ahead before he can feel his will buckling and he turns to her.

"How are you holding up?"

[Elendil's Heir]

Ferguson texts back, Wow. Just how dumb are you, Princess? "Ready in five minutes" means ready in five minutes.

Marala's eyes widen. "You mean... trade clothes? Here? That could really get you in trouble, couldn't it? Helping me, I don't know, uh... impersonate a Starfleet officer?"

The turbolift hums along, bearing Rangin and Kylah towards the Shuttlebay.

Dr. Bennett tersely acknowledges Graham's summons. He does not exactly seem overjoyed at the prospect.

[general_urko]

Graham looks for a private room and (assuming he finds one) uses his communicator to hail Marala's callcode.

[SidonianGal]

Nia smiles crookedly at Marala. "Your instincts are good and commendable. But honestly, what with defying orders, illicitly harboring refugees, ignoring protocol... we're in court-martial territory as it is."

She gives a one-shouldered shrug. "What's the Earth saying? 'Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.' I just thought it might be easier to keep you from attracting attention. No one would blink at some stranger with a uniform, especially amid all this chaos. But if you feel uncomfortable, you can just..."

Something tickles the back of her mind. She's had some good tickles and she usually gives in, but the idea flitted so rapidly and vaguely that when she tries to catch hold of it, much less examine it, it's vanished.

"Um... sorry, lost the plot for a second... so, if you feel strongly against swapping clothes, you can certainly stay as you are, just sitting here praying and if someone asks, tell them you're helping coordinate the logistics as a sort of ambassador for the Novy Rostovians, or colonists... not sure what you call yourselves. That excuse has the benefit of actually being true, right? I always say, truth is pretty good as a last resort." Nia's smile is now distracted, because she's trying to figure out exactly what 'tickled' her.

[Elendil's Heir]

Graham finds an empty but cramped LS maintenance compartment and is able to call Marala in privacy.

Marala says to Onn, "Yes, I guess that's a fair point. All right, thank you, yes, I'll swap clothes with you." She looks around the Chapel. "Should we just... change here?" You both hear a beeping, and she pulls out a small, silvery civilian communicator from one of her coverall pockets. "Hello?... Oh, hello, Booker!"

[general_urko]

"Marala…"

Getting her name out takes an effort. Then collision of worlds--Nia helping Marala--and the prospect that Marala and/or her son might die, with the price of their survival more-or-less permanent separation from everyone aforementioned, as well as his daughter, while he serves out his time for gross disobedience incarcerated is a lot to work through.

"I--you may have heard. I am taking a shuttle to the colony. I'd like to--h, see Nikolai. At Landing Pad 3. If he can grab a communicator, I'll pass long my info so he can contact me if he runs into trouble. That's Landing Pad 3, OK?"

[choie]

The turbolift door opens--on Deck 7, where Kylah's quarters are, as if other forces have united to help her for once. She could flee to her cabin now! Except…

Velir is in her way. He enters and and takes hold of the turbolift control, and gives their destination. Kylah watches the door shut. She almost groans at the lost opportunity.

Again she stares down at her communicator. Answer me, please answer me, please let there be time… After a few seconds she recognizes that Velir has spoken.

What did he say? Kylah blinks up at him, notices his inquiring look. She takes a guess and mutters perfunctorily, “Yes, I am going to the shuttlebay.” Belatedly a realization follows. “You are headed down to the planet too?”

* * *

Rangin is in one way surprised by Kylah's response, looking so out of it that it is not surprising she did not answer the question he asked, but instead is latching on to the order to the turbolift as is perhaps they were both functioning automatically.

Then again, the fact she is also going to the shuttle bay as well is just as intriguing. Just what is Mr Graham playing at that it would require both of them to be there and supposedly heading for the planet.

"Are you part of the group Mr Graham has requested?" Rangin decides to open with a simple question, perhaps she knows more than he certainly does.

* * *

“Yes,” Kylah says distractedly. “I have no idea why--” Her communicator vibrates in her palm, and she jerks with a gasp. Forgetting where she is, or who she is with, Kylah flips open the device to find Lt. Ferguson's message.

An insult. Ready in five minutes. But that still tells her nothing… Her throat makes a frustrated little sound, and she gazes at the door, trying to remember the process Lt. Ferguson described.

“When the time comes, I'm going to report a pattern-integration anomaly with the transporter and say that I'm taking it offline for a diagnostic for a few minutes. … Then I'll clear the transporter room, if there's anyone else there, and beam the two directly into your quarters, and you can take it from there. I'll do what I need to keep anyone on the Bridge or in Engineering from seeing what I've done."

Her eyes open again--she did not realize she closed them in the first place. Lt. Ferguson’s description was clear. Very little time will be available to her. And she cannot let him make the transport without her being in her quarters, without making sure they will be hidden. She must be there to greet Mrs. Soeryadjaya and her associate.

Impulsively Kylah grabs hold of the turbolift’s controller. “Belay previous request,” she snaps out. “Deck seven!”

* * *

"What the...?" Rangin exclaims at Kylah's sudden action, "what are you doing? We are meant to be going to the shuttle bay."

Unsure of what exactly she is playing at, he stands in the doorway which should block her from leaving should the doors open. He would prefer to stop the turbolift altogether, but she is clamped on to it for dear life.

"Kylah, I think you need to explain what is going on. What was that message?" he asks urgently.




Kylah = me, Rangin = Rangin.

[Elendil's Heir]

Marala says urgently, "I understand. I'll get in touch with him, and with Jeremy, the man you met, who's keeping an eye on him for me. Thank you, Boojee."

[SidonianGal]

Nia, her hands on the nearly invisible closure to her uniform, listens to the one-sided conversation, which doesn't tell her much except... a nickname? Boojee? She almost smiles, the flash of an instant where she plans to tease him about it. Except if Marala dies. There will be nothing humorous in this.

Sensing Marala's about to close the connection , Nia holds out a warning hand. "Just a sec'--I'm having second thoughts about the uniform swap. You might be more noticeable if anyone asks you questions or gives you an order, dressed as an officer, versus how you are now. Tell Booker, see what he thinks."

She waits, holding her breath. Truth is, she knows her survival instincts are strong, and she's fairly good with inventing off-the-cuff schemes and pranks. But Booker Graham strategizes. It's his job, his life.

Whatever he decides, Nia will follow through with his order.

[Elendil's Heir]

Marala nods and passes Onn's question on to Graham.

[general_urko]

"Jesus..."

Graham can't help the word slipping out at the question.

"That's...brilliant on the one hand. Damned smart." He shakes his head to clear it. "But...whatever happens I'd like to keep Marala squeaky clean. The...victim...of my...my inability to let her go, to the extent that I forced her compliance with my scheme as the price to help her son."

[choie]

From the intensity of Velir’s gaze, Kylah knows he will not be content with “Nothing is wrong.” Instead, she looks warily over his shoulder, avoiding his eyes. “I cannot tell you. It is--important. Private, but important. I just have to get to my quarters and--and I will be delayed for ten minutes. If Lt. Graham needs me, he must wait. Or choose someone else. I cannot be of any more use to him than I am for this--this other task.” Her fingers are clammy as she squeezes the turbolift handle with one trembling hand and clenches the communicator with the other. “Now please step aside so I may leave.”

* * *

Rangin can't believe what he is hearing and the words come unbidden and choke in his throat.

"Kylah, you're talking about directly disobeying an order!" he half exclaims still not quite sure himself what is going on. "Who sent that message to you and what are you doing? You can't just vanish to your quarters for ten minutes, there is absolutely no time for that."

He sees her shudder, then lift her eyes. They are opaque. He has never noticed just how entirely black and fathomless her gaze is.

“You do not understand.” she says steadily. “I am obeying an order. Something only I can fulfill. Lt. Graham does not need me. I have to go. I have no choice.”

Exasperation sets in with her behaviour as Rangin tries to figure out anything and draws nothing but blanks. But there is one other thing she had lied about recently and he wonders if this is all connected in some bizarre, twisted way.

"Kylah, is this something that's going on between Lt Ferguson and you?"

* * *

Velir’s question is a gut punch, and Kylah presses her hands against her abdomen as if protecting it from another assault. He is correct in every sense of the question. “Do not ask me that,” she whispers--not in anger, but a plea. “I cannot answer--not now. People are depending on me.”

The turbolift stops and opens. Velir does not move aside. If anything, his immobile body seems more of an obstacle than ever. She tries to squeeze past without touching him. “Please, I must go! Lives are at stake,” she insists, more and more desperate. “My future is at stake! I will be ruined regardless, but at least this way I will fulfill some sort of purpose!”

Kylah stops, mere centimeters from Velir. Her own word resonates strongly. Ruined. It is the truth: she faces ruin wherever she turns. If she succeeds, Lt. Ferguson will demand her compliance with his sickening request; if she succeeds and is caught, she will be thrown out of Starfleet and forced to return to her uncle; and if she fails, her uncle will likely recall her himself. Either way, Aldaan will do with her whatever he wishes.

* * *

Rangin demands, "Whose lives are a stake, what future are you talking about?" From Kylah's demeanour something has obviously hit a nerve. He notices she is not denying that Lt. Ferguson has something to do with it.

“After, Velir,” she exhales. “I will explain after all this is through. It will not matter then.” Even looking up at him seems like it costs her an effort. “Please, if I swear to tell you, will you let me leave?”

[Elendil's Heir]

Graham's communicator beeps and sees a new text appear: They're waiting for you in the Shuttlebay, Mr. Graham. Proceed on the double. VARGAS.

The other members of the landing party receive similar prompts from Thalen, by order of the First Officer.

[general_urko]

Graham sighs and double times it toward the Shuttlebay.

[Elendil's Heir]

Graham arrives in the Shuttlebay to see the shuttlecraft Kaku in the middle of the deck and facing aft towards the bay's massive clamshell doors. Dr. Nathaniel Bennett and Engineering Ens. Akinola Serowe are already aboard. Security Ens. Josiah F. Russell is outside, standing by the shuttle's hatch and talking to Lt. Hans Meyer, the shuttle maintenance crew chief, a middle-aged Austrian man.

Lt. Onn, Ens. Rangin and Ens. Kylah have apparently still not arrived. Ens. Russell comes to attention as Graham approaches, but Lt. Meyer frowns and says in German-accented Standard, "Mr. Graham, welcome. I was told you would be launching immediately, but your landing party is as yet incomplete, no...?"

https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki...F_shuttlecraft
https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki...rgo_facilities

[general_urko]

Graham takes a deep breath. "Trouble times, Lt. Meyer, troubled times...a lot on people's plates."

"Excuse me," he adds.

Graham turns aside, flips out his communicator, and one-way transmits, each in turn, to Ens. Rangin, Ens, Kylah, and Lt. Onn (in that order). "Lt. Graham. Report to the Shuttlebay for landing party duty on the double."

[Rangin]

If possible may we please pretend the following has been going on during all of the above but before Graham's message?


"Kylah, what have you gotten yourself into?" Rangin waves a hand as if to brush away her arguments like flies buzzing around his head. "No, I can't promise anything. Just whose and what orders are you following?"

Kylah stares at him, her emotions on a knife’s edge. “I would tell you if I could. But not now. You are wasting time that neither of us has. Let me out!” With this last barked command, she digs an elbow into his side to shove him away from her while she tries again to propel herself out of the lift.

Rangin is too slow and too surprised to avoid the elbow and it crunches into his side with more force than he would expect. By reflex he reaches out and grasps at her hand as she tries to barge her way past managing to get a hold as he reaches round her wrist.

It's not the shock of her elbow that leaves him gasping for breath and shaking. An unholy fear and self-loathing that sweeps over him, but with an imperative drive that something must be accomplished.

There is a flash in his head of the sneering Lt. Ferguson, but he can almost feel another, more important, nameless presences around him, and he tries to turn round to see if anyone is there while trying to hold on to Kylah at the same time.

* * *

The instant Velir’s fingers clutch Kylah’s wrist, a jolt of psychic energy slams into her like a phaser blast. Except it is not a single shot. She staggers back, or tries to--they may be relatively close in height, but she is no match for his strength--and cannot free herself.

So the intrusive link remains, surges from his skin through her arm and finally invades her mind. Confusion, anger, worry, terror… At first, Kylah cannot distinguish her emotions from Velir’s. Worse, she senses that he is sensing hers, too. Just like the other day at the gym, his mind has forced itself into hers.

“What are you doing? Stop, stop!” she nearly shrieks. “You--you have no right to control me!”

No matter how hard she yanks or pulls, they remain locked together. And the colors of their joined emotions merge into a murky gray. Horror… sorrow… regret… so much lost life, so much waste, and nothing can be done about it. The data is there, this unfair lottery could easily cajole more lives into the results: they could make things right. But the rules and their superior officers all conspire to keep them helpless. Not helpless, Kylah thinks fiercely, unconsciously shaking her head. Not all helpless. Rules do not matter. Obligation matters. If he fulfills his promise.

The thought of Lt. Ferguson--and then Mrs. Soeryadjaya down on the planet waiting for her now, with time running out--floods Kylah with adrenaline. And though the communicator on her hip buzzes, it might as well be on Elas: A primal rage overtakes all else. Like a trapped animal, Kylah instinctively turns the fingers of her free hand into claws and slashes them into Velir’s wrist.

“You want to save lives?” The words are almost snarled while her nails rake a sharp path into his skin. “That is what I am trying to do, so let me do it! Let me go!”

* * *

Rangin can feel Kylah's nails scraping down his arm and it snaps him back to the here and now and away from the thoughts that were rushing through his head only seconds ago. But still some things stay with him, even as he blinks to clear his head.

He snaps his eyes back to Kylah, still holding her wrist despite her struggles. "No, no you are not saving anyone, you may even be condemning us all."

He puts a hand against the wall to balance, feeling for the surface to give him some stability, while taking a deep breath as he tries to make sense of what he is thinking and what brought him to say that.

"Okay, it's obvious you are trying to circumvent what is happening, though I have no reason why. Although if it is enough to seek out Lt. Ferguson's help it must be serious indeed. Stop, just stop for one moment and let me think."

He lets go of her hand, but remains in the doorway. "Regardless, if you go back to your quarters now, at this moment in time, I will be informing Lt. Graham in approximately one minute about your disobeying orders. Just answer me one thing: you need to save someone from the planet, don't you?"



Kylah by choie, Rangin by me

[SidonianGal]

Nia's communicator lets out a beep and she takes a swift look--a reminder that they need to get moving. She doesn't have time to say anything further to Booker before he cuts the conversation short.

"Well, a mixed message," she says to Marala. "Swapping outfits would've been a good idea, but Book's right to make sure your hands are as clean as possible. That means no risking an impersonation charge." Even as she speaks she's subconsciously adjusting her mental state from scheming rule breaker to shuttle pilot.

She reaches out to rest a calming hand on the other woman's wrist. "Stay here and sit unobtrusively. And don't--" Nia cuts herself off. "No, I can't tell you not to worry, but... try to breathe and trust in us. We'll do all we can to keep you and your boy safe."

About to leave, she pauses and gives Marala a small smile. "You already know Booker Graham will not let you down."

[choie]

Kylah cradles her aching wrist against her chest. She stares at Velir, disoriented and eyes blurry with unshed tears. He has guessed her mission. Almost paralyzed, she gives a tiny, almost undetectable nod.

“Yes,” she whispers, overwhelmed by all she...they...just experienced. Despite her shallow breaths, she manages to continue. “Please, Velir… please do not tell. I must do this. You do not know...”

* * *

"Don't," Rangin says, low and grim. "Don't do it, we are over the capacity for Life Support as it is. You bring any more on board, hidden away, and it will be a slow death for all of us."

He tries to think over the implications if what she is trying to do, but it keeps being swept away of how urgent it is that he must, no she must do it.

He reaches down from the wall and absentmindedly rubs his wrist where Kylah scratched him a few moments ago and his sleeve has since fallen back down. It feels tender and sticky and as he pulls his hand away, he can see a few telltale signs that she broke the skin from the flash of red on his palm.

* * *

Blood. Her nails drew blood. Fury drains from Kylah as she cringes in shame and fear of herself, something wild that she did not know she was capable of.

“Oh no! I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. It was…I felt so much anger. Not just mine. Yours. You were there, in my mind.” Her head shakes in disbelief. “You invaded my mind. Why--how did you do that?”

* * *

“I...” Rangin stops as Kylah’s names what happened, something he hadn’t though fully through but the only explanation that seems to make sense over what happened, “...I don’t know.”

He would love to find out, take the time to explore it further, see where it could lead, but time is of the essence, “The only thing I do know, is that we only have a few hours to rescue as many people as we can from the colony before it is destroyed.

“Please wait for the lottery before doing anything so foolish. If the person you are trying to save is mysteriously missing, it is going to raise all sorts of problems. Besides going down to the planet gives me a chance to confirm the data is correct and make any last minute alterations to ensure a fair lottery. We have run it thousands of times, chances are your person will be in one of them. All we have to do is choose the right one. Do you understand?”

* * *

Velir's calculations whirl around in Kylah’s uncomprehending, panicked mind. “No, no, I cannot wait. The--the method by which they are to be brought on board needs to be done before, it will be a test, before more activity. Surely two more people will not harm...” Kylah’s words trail off. stops. She has no expertise in the life support systems and is a poor judge of what they can handle. “As for waiting for their chances… I may not know as much about mathematics and science as you, but I know the odds are vastly against them.”

She thinks again of his idea. “Besides, surely the scrutiny will be far greater once the lottery has been run and people know who lives or dies. Those who lose will be even more desperate.”

He does not seem convinced. Kylah knows she must reveal more. She has no choice. Swallowing, she takes a tiny step toward him. “Velir, this is the friend of my family I mentioned--and her companion. What I said earlier was not a lie. Our resources… I will not eat, I will use an oxygen mask, I will do anything, everything to save them. You have no idea--”

No. No, she cannot tell Velir about her bargain with Lt. Ferguson. Her gaze drops from Velir’s face to the floor. She must remain in better command of her senses. Velir’s mental powers are obviously greater than she realized.

“You do not know the consequences if I fail. They will die, and my life will be out of my hands. At least if I succeed and they survive, even if I am caught, I will have a marginally better prospect once I return home. If I cannot save them, my future will be forfeit.”

She shakes her head and begins sidling past Velir, backing away from him very slowly. “Please,” she whispers. “There is no more time, I must go. You should tell Lt. Graham, if that is your duty. You owe me nothing, I know that. But if you have any remaining compassion…if not for me, than these two…?”

Waiting only a heartbeat, Kylah turns and heads toward her cabin.

* * *

This time Rangin is caught unawares as Kylah slips by him to flee down the corridor. He halfheartedly attempts to stop her, but she is just out of reach and besides, short of restraining her he can't prevent her from carrying out what she thinks she must. Despairing about the time she is wasting, valuable minutes he could use to check the population and make sure the lottery runs well, he just shakes his head and lets the dice roll what they will.

"I know you feel you have no choice, but do what you feel you must, even though it could well kill everyone on the ship. And you haven't told me who they are!"

She is too far to hear. Rangin reaches for the turbolift control, knowing he must be on his way.

[Elendil's Heir]

Marala returns Onn's smile, although suddenly she seems near tears. She says quietly, "Of course. And Lieutenant... thank you."

Kylah makes her way through the crowded corridor, as Engineering personnel set up temporary bunks and set out bedding and other supplies, and reaches her own quarters.

The turbolift soon brings Rangin to the Shuttlebay, where he sees Graham and two redshirts talking outside the shuttlecraft Kaku.

[SidonianGal]

Nia gives what she hopes is a reassuring nod to Marala, and reluctantly leaves the chapel. She's not keen on leaving this non-Starfleet woman all alone, possibly to face a redshirt who thinks she's a threat of some kind. With no choice, however, all Nia can do is hope for some good luck.

Once she's in the corridor, the communicator in her hand chimes. When she flips it open she hears Booker's voice. "On my way, Lt. Graham," she replies, now at the Turbolift and adding a quick "Deck 19" request before continuing with Book. "I appreciate the praise for the uniform idea, but I'm afraid you're gonna think I've lost my damn fool mind when you hear my suggestion for our guests."

[choie]

Kylah does not look at any of the other officers, too distracted by her fear of failure, her residual violated feeling at having her brain probed without warning, and dread of what Lt. Graham will do when she does not arrive.

...Or, more to the point, what Velir will tell him. She prays Velir will develop more sympathy for her plight, possibly buying her more time. But that prayer seems unlikely to be answered.

What is more likely, Kylah realizes just before her door whooshes open, is that her temporarily assigned cabinmate will be here already. Which would ruin everything, unless Kylah can think of a way to get the other woman to leave.

After entering, she says a wary "Hello?" and darts her gaze toward every visible corner of her quarters.

[Elendil's Heir]

Onn arrives in the Shuttlebay just as Rangin is approaching Graham, Meyer and another redshirt standing outside the shuttlecraft.

A young, pretty Asian woman in Engineering red with lieutenant (junior grade) golden braid on her uniform dress's cuffs comes out of the bathroom, wiping her hand on a towel. "Hi!" she says brightly. "I'm Demei Xiang. I guess we're going to be roommates, at least for a few days. You must be Kylah? Sorry I had to move in while you weren't here. Pretty rude, I know, and I apologize, but I only had a little time to do it before I have to get back down to the workshops and help make more bunks."

[Rangin]

Rangin arrives in the Shuttlebay feeling worried and despairing over Kylah's actions. Something is driving her to act so rashly but he does not know what it is, only that she could cost herself and the ship more than she knows.

But while he is slightly late, he is not the last and walks across to Lt Graham, unable to stop rubbing at the sleeve where he was scratched earlier before dropping his arms to the side and acknowledges the senior officer.

"Ens Rangin reporting in Sir." as he waits at attention to see what it is that Lt Graham wants and whether he will have the opportunity to mention about Kylah. The thought that he is likely to just be dismissed, with the opportunity somehow lost would not surprise him, but all he can do is see what happens next.

[SidonianGal]

Striding over to the shuttle, Nia notices the others on the periphery--counting her, that's six, which might reflect the need for a smaller party--but mostly her immediate attention focuses on Booker. How's he holding up under pressure from so many different sources?

Duty demands her to report in, then to get the status of the Kaku. Abruptly the realization strikes her: this marks the first mission she'll be under Book's command. It'd be fun if the stakes weren't so crazy high... especially for him, more than anyone else on this ship.

Aside from Marala.

Nia stops about a meter away from him. "Present, sir."

[choie]

Kylah's heart sinks, and for far too many seconds her thoughts freeze along with her muscles. She just stares at the other woman, afraid and disappointed and irrationally angry.

Finally she regains the ability to speak. "No--no, it is--of course you were not rude. Moving in," she adds, stumbling over her words. "I must still organize more of my things. We--I believe it is likely we will share with refugees."

Kylah forces herself from the doorway, although she takes only a few steps, enough to let the door close. "But you are...you said you must leave?" With a backwards glance, she gestures weakly towards the door and moves farther away. Hopefully a clear pathway will push Lt. Xiang^* out of the cabin more quickly.


* Not sure, given Chinese name traditions, if this is her first or last name?

[Elendil's Heir]

"Yes, I'll get out of your hair soon, I promise," the engineer says, smiling. She returns the towel to the bathroom. "Just getting squared away here." She opens a large Starfleet-issue travel case on the spare bunk and begins unpacking.

Xiang would be her last name.

[choie]

Every nerve-ending in Kylah's body is raw, coursing with electricity. Given her frustration, it is fortunate she has no weapon; she might be tempted to fling a knife in Lt. Xiang's general direction.

Instead she walks to the bed. "Let me unpack for you," she blurts. "Please, Lieutenant. You have more important tasks to do, but I... I have been allowed a brief time off-duty to... get ready..." The improvised lie almost makes her wince. Still, she must commit to it.

Her communicator buzzes again, one short pulse alerting her that she has an unread message. Biting her lip, she itches to grab at it, but this current situation overrides everything.

[general_urko]

Graham spares a glance toward Nia as she arrives and announces herself, giving her a slight, grateful nod--before turning his attention back to Rangin, who's behaving strangely, even for him.

"Thank you, Rangin." Dropping his rank is half un-intentional, half-intentional.

And all impatience.

"So where the hell is Ens. Kylah?" Graham ask sharply, looking around, expressing his annoyance to everyone at once, but returning to raise an eyebrow at Rangin, just on principle.

[Elendil's Heir]

Xiang frowns. "No, thanks. It's my stuff, and I'd rather stow it myself."

Russell and Meyer nod politely in welcome to Rangin and Onn. Russell replies to Graham, "I don't know, sir. Would you like me to have her paged?"

Dr. Bennett sticks his head out the shuttle's door; he looks annoyed. "Are we going, or what?"

[Rangin]

Although slightly non-plussed by Graham's informality and trying not to let it show on his face, Rangin is less surprised by Lt Graham's request to know where Kylah is.

"I'm sorry sir, but Ens. Kylah said she was following someone else's orders and is returning to her quarters. She knows she is supposed to report here, but insisted that she is not required. Apparently it will take her approximately ten minutes to complete what she needs to do."

Before Lt Graham can explode in anger as he is likely to do, "and in response to your next question Sir: I do not know what she is doing, she would not say."

Rangin wishes he could take a step back, either to avoid an agitated looking Lt Graham and then realises he is still between the Security Officer and the direct path to the Turbolift. A step to the side might be more judicious.

And yet having opened his mouth, he still wonders if he did the right thing or if he should have said nothing. But of Kylah is in trouble, this might be the most expeditious way to solve her problems. Or maybe just make them worse.

[SidonianGal]

Nia's eyebrows arch as she hears the exchange between the two men. Of course, of course it's about Kylah. Isn't it always?

And now the girl has secret orders? Why does this sound like utter crap?

Nia keeps her stare fixed on the shuttle. She doesn't know whose bullshit this is, Kylah's or Rangin's, but regardless she makes sure not to show her disbelief.

"For what it's worth," she says in a low murmur, "Her watch was on the Bridge, last I knew."

[choie]

A flush burns Kylah’s face. “Oh--of course, Lt. Xiang, I did not--I am sorry.” The apology is automatic, not sincere. She wants to scream, to fling that suitcase to the floor.

All she can do is walk to her bed. Too agitated to sit down, she halts and, turning her back on the other woman, pulls out her communicator as her mind rages, grappling for any alternative to her original plans. Most important, she must get in touch with Lt. Ferguson.

First she is forced to attend to the messages waiting for her. Cmdr. Vargas’s words and Lt. Graham’s voice shame her. It is not just about not doing her duty as an officer; she has barely been of much use anyway, and the pressure from her Uncle has long superseded her oath to Starfleet. But she hates letting these men down. Lt. Graham in particular--he has done so much for her…

Pained, Kylah taps out a hurried message. She has no idea what Velir might have said, if anything, so she can only invent a shabby lie.

GRAHAM, LT.JG - Forgive me, sir. I had a migraine and needed to rest and take a shower. I will be ready in ten minutes. Time is of the essence and you probably cannot wait. I understand you will have to report my dereliction of duty. Please know I am very sorry. -- KYLAH, ENS.

Kylah shakes her head at the weak excuse. Nevertheless, she sends it, left with no other choice. Then she stares down at the tiny screen, desperate to find another location for the beam-in.

FERGUSON, LT.JG - My quarters are no longer available. Are yours? If not perhaps the Arboretum? I will go anywhere you suggest. -- KYLAH, ENS.

Her plea sent, Kylah excuses herself as she passes Lt. Xiang to the bathroom, where she splashes water on her face. A look in the mirror causes her even more embarrassment. Her uniform is ill-fitting, her wrist is already developing a bruise--whether from Lt. Ferguson or Velir, she does not know--and her stockings reveal a run on her left leg, stemming from the struggle with Ferguson.

I am no Starfleet officer, she thinks, her chin trembling. She runs her damp hands through her hair, pushing it away from her face and tying it into an improvised knot. I never was and never will be.

Hurrying past the other woman, Kylah leaves her quarters and stands awkwardly in the corridor, waiting for whichever unpleasant reply she gets first.

[Elendil's Heir]

Ferguson does not respond to Kylah.

In the Shuttlebay, Russell clears his throat and looks like he'd rather be somewhere else.

[choie]

As minutes pass, the weight of dread builds in Kylah's chest until breathing becomes labored, her tight throat creating a soft moan with every inhale and exhale.

Where is he? Why is he doing this?

Not ten minutes ago, Lt. Ferguson contacted her and told her he was ready to commence his part of their bargain. Is he unable to take the time to respond? That seems as likely as the worse possibility: that he has preyed on her desperation and never intended to follow through.

Regardless, Kylah must reach him.

She forces her protesting, tense muscles into breaking away from the spot where she has planted herself and heads to the transporter rooms on this deck. He could well be up on Deck 21, but she has no time to go to both. The risk of being seen conspiring with him is worth taking. There is no alternative.

While she runs down the winding corridors as fast as she can--given her increasing hyperventilation--she jettisons her caution and flips open her communicator for a direct voice contact. "Kylah to Ferguson," she begs in between gasps. "Please answer me!"

[Elendil's Heir]

Kylah's call does not go through, but a quiet beep tells her it has gone to his voicemail.

[SidonianGal]

Nia decides the standoff and waiting game are not her business, so she might as well get to her business.

Tilting her head toward the Kaku, she heads in that direction. "Just gonna warm her up," she murmurs to Booker while she passes by to join Lt. Meyer. First she lifts a steadying hand to the irascible Dr. Bennett. "Ease up, Doctor. We'll be off any minute now. Just a personnel issue. Not everyone's as punctual as you," she adds with a grin.

"Hey chief," she says to Meyer's very familiar face. "Bit of a holdup over there--" She quickly glances towards Booker and Rangin. "--But fortunately it doesn't involve me. Let's get going on the pre-flight."

[choie]

Kylah's groan is now due to frustration as well as her hyperventilating. She presses a hand to her side, where a stitch is now bothering her, and continues to lope toward the set of transporter rooms, where she hopes to find Lt. Ferguson.

She convinces herself that he will be on this deck, mainly because she little confidence that she has the energy to reach the other transporters up on Deck 21.

[Elendil's Heir]

Meyer nods and says, "Of course, ma'am," and gestures for her to board the shuttle ahead of him. Dr. Bennett, looking disgusted, goes back inside.

Kylah finds Ferguson in Transporter Room 6, along with Lt. Vielar, the Yorktown's Assistant Chief Engineer. The tall, yellow-feathered Skorr female is delicately working within an open ODN conduit panel just beyond the transporter control console, where Ferguson stands, his arms crossed. His expression when he sees Kylah reveals first surprise, and then quickly-masked anger. "Ens. Kylah," he says with what is close to a neutral tone of voice, "I didn't expect to see you here."

[choie]

Although she has seen Lt. Vielar two or three times, Kylah is already so rattled that the sight of a large bird-like being hunkering behind equipment is--to say the least--disconcerting. She recovers and keeps her hand on her side, wanting very much to bend over and catch her breath.

"I--I know, I am sorry to bother you, but I need... I need your advice," Kylah begins. As she struggles to breathe, she grasps for something, anything that she can say to Lt. Ferguson that will both explain their predicament and be innocuous enough to fly over the Skorr's head. Then it hits her.

"My temporary roommate has moved in--into my quarters--and things are very crowded." She looks warily down at Lt. Vielar, then quickly back up to Lt. Ferguson with an intent gaze. "So I need another place, a safe place, to house my... my Vulcan Lyre. It is large but fragile and must not be disturbed. As we had discussed the problem earlier I thought perhaps you could... recommend somewhere? Are your own quarters available?"

Kylah stops, relieved for coming up with this ruse. Then a jolt of fear interrupts everything, and she stares back down at the console with growing alarm. "Is there something wrong with the transporter?"

[Elendil's Heir]

Vielar turns and says, in her odd, piping voice, "Ah, Ens. Kylah, hello. Good to see you again. No, it's not the transporter itself, but an ODN conduit, G45003, that passes through here. There've been some odd fluctuations in the system and I'm trying to track it down. Shouldn't be long." She turns back to her work.

Ferguson says carefully, darting with his eyes to indicate that Kylah should leave right away, "No, I have someone moving in with me, too. Pretty crowded already - no room at the inn, you know how it goes. Sorry. I'm sure you can find some other place for your, uh, lyre. And soon."

[choie]

Kylah takes a step back. She can feel Lt. Ferguson's hostility and nervous tension from here, and her own despair weighs heavily on her. Her "oh" is barely a whisper.

She has no idea what an inn has to do with anything. And somehow Lt. Ferguson's emphasis on lyre sounded as if he was calling her a liar. Which, of course, she is.

"I see. That is... I do not know where else..." Swallowing, she shakes her head, at a loss. How can she possibly hide two people?

But Lt Ferguson wants her out of here, and preventing him from turning her against her is paramount. "I--I thank you anyway, sir."

Kylah makes sure Lt. Vielar is not looking when she lifts her communicator and nods at it pointedly. Read your messages! she thinks, as if he could read her mind as clearly as Velir had.

Perish the thought. Velir has some level of understanding about privacy. This man--in her mind? The very idea is both terrifying and repugnant.

She stammers a goodbye to Lt. Vielar and manages not to trip on her way out.

But she falls against the wall, shutting her eyes. The stress is overwhelming and the whole corridor seems to be crushing in on her, cutting off her air. She risks losing consciousness if she does not steady herself. As her childhood nurse warned her during one of her panic attacks: Hyperventilation causes a loss of CO₂, and she must do what she can to breath in whatever she exhales.

No paper bag is near, so Kylah cups her hands over her nose and mouth.

What is left for her? She cannot ask Velir for help. She has no other friends on this ship--at least, none whom she can ask for such a favor. Dr. T'Var. Lt. Graham. Mr. Johnson...

She opens her eyes, calculations racing. No. She doubts she can ask Mr. Johnson for such a huge favor; besides, he is too busy and she would have to explain too much. But thinking of him leads her to someone else.

She has no roommate. She will be away.

Kylah's heart drums against her rib cage. It is a tremendous risk, but so is everything else Uncle Aldaan has demanded of her.

She can think of no other option. And so she opens her communicator.

JOHNSON, ANDREW -- I am sorry to bother you, Mr. Johnson, but could you tell me the correct cabin number for Lt. Onn? -- KYLAH, ENS.

[Elendil's Heir]

Ferguson grimaces and nods before she leaves.

[SidonianGal]

Climbing up and into the shuttle, Nia has conflicting senses of anxiety and anticipation. This is where she belongs; it's what she knows best. But she's also well aware of the seriousness of what lies ahead.

She looks over and nods at Dr. Bennett and the others, then settles herself into the pilot seat. Meyer takes the copilot seat beside her, at starboard. Nia's gaze takes in the display panels and status lights in front of her, while she also pays attention to Meyer.

Habit kicks in: without even looking, she automatically taps the Systems Status button: Green, as expected.

"All right," she says crisply. "Commencing preflight systems check."

"Ready, ma'am," says Meyer, bringing up a parallel system display.

She starts, as always, with the Helm, then Navigation. Both are nominal. Shields, Warp Drive, Impulse Drive, Communications, Computer, Life Support and Engineering Subsystems follow in quick succession, with green lights for each.

Within minutes she's able to say with satisfaction, "Preflight systems check complete. The Kaku's ready to roll."

"I concur, ma'am," says Meyer with a smile.

"Thanks as always, chief." She holds out a hand just as Meyer passes his datapad to her--like a perfectly choreographed ballroom dance--and she uses her thumbprint to co-sign the status check.

Nia thanks Meyer again before watching him leave the shuttle. Then she swivels a few degrees to look at the present crew.

"We'll be off any moment," she says, with a pleasant smile for them all--including Bennett, not that it's likely to lift his mood. Nothing's likely to get this hardass to settle in, but the guy must have something civilized about him. What a shame that with looks like his, he's so sour and brittle.

Maybe when you're that handsome you don't bother learning how to be affable or good-natured? With a shrug so small it might as well be internal, she checks the rear-facing camera. Nope, still an incomplete complement.

She sighs. Is there a reason we need a communications ex-- Nia purses her lips mid-thought. She's not exactly convinced Kylah counts as an 'expert.' Okay, a communications officer? And even if we do, maybe we could pick one who doesn't end up kidnapped or injured on every mission? Even on shore leave?

That last thought is unfair, but... well, facts are facts.



Nia by me, Meyer and most of the tech stuff by EH.

[Elendil's Heir]

Dr. Bennett sighs heavily and looks hard at the chronometer on the forward display panel.

[Rangin]

"Look chief, we've done as much as we can, but we could really do with the mining rations from the planet, if they have them. You know, the single meal packs with the heating element. Would help keep feeding a bunch of people faster than we could...."

Andy Johnson leans on the wall next to the Comm unit, sweaty and tired from the hard shift is putting in and chatting to the head chef giving him the latest update on getting as much food prepped for the people now, to allow for more energy to be diverted to Life Support.

The beep from his communicator comes through and Ajay looks at the message. He blinks a couple of times at the inanity of the question before thumbing back a quick response.

KYLAH, ENS. -- Hi, you want her cabin number? Seriously, at a time like this? Just what are you planning? Also, next time try dropping her a text or check the Ship's computer. Either way, answer is #4A14. -- JOHNSON, ANDREW

Andy Johnson by Ajay, Room info by EH

[choie]

As relieved and gratified as Kylah is to receive a reply, Mr. Johnson's response flings ice water into her face. She has angered him, and made him suspicious, and turned him against her.

Inevitable, she knows--it is what she does best, disappoint and repel others--but for some reason this brief message, rebuke in every word, stings. Mr. Johnson is an open-minded, cheerful and friendly young man. She has never seen him angry, not at her. Even when they first met, and she had been so humorless and haughty, he teased her rather than responded in kind. Of course she has managed to ruin that.

But he gave you what you wanted. That is all that matters, is it not?

Kylah turns, so certain the voice she just heard was outside her head. Instead, it is inside, and nearly a decade in the past.

"But why? Why would they kill him?" 14-year-old Kylah stares at her uncle, hugging herself to protect from the truth. "Because of... of what I said?"

Aldaan gently takes the video tablet from her hands and lays it on the nearby table, then draws her near. "Not exactly. It was his own weakness that you... inadvertently... revealed. Information that was useful to us. He gave us what we needed--that is what matters, in the end." He pauses, then adds soberly: "And they did not kill him. It was Hegh'bat. The only honorable ending for him--he believed."

She is even more horrified. "He--it was suicide?" Her wide-eyed gaze follows the movement of her tablet, still able to see the Imperial flag on the tiny screen until her uncle taps it to disappear. "Then it is my fault! I just meant to help. Dobann seemed so sad. You said I should be hostess for the meal, I thought it was my duty to make him feel better--"

"And it was, my dear. I blame myself. I didn't warn you about just how harshly their culture treats those who are weak--whom they believe to be weak, that is." Uncle Aldaan sighs and shakes his head, holding Kylah close. "T'uged Dobann destroyed a civilian ship, nearly five hundred aboard. It was in Klingon territory and he had orders to kill anyone who violated their boundaries. His action was perfectly legal, indeed required by their laws. But nevertheless... Not an easy decision to own. Once his superiors heard of his remorse... he was surrounded by dishonor. Dishonor for the deaths, dishonor for showing weakness."

Kylah's tear-filled eyes focus on the tablet. Dobann's face, scarred, rough and handsome, lingers in her mind though the screen is black. She always liked this soldier, both older and less brusque than most of the other dignitaries who graced their table.

"But Uncle, no one would have known he felt that way if were not for me," she whispers. "He hid it from them. But through the meal I almost ached because of what was gnawing at him. I could not take it, I had to try to help, to find out what was wrong." A sob escapes her. "I just kept pushing and pushing...then when he said he regretted it all--"

"Shhh, dear one. I understand, I do. You're nearly a woman. So much of you has matured..." He places a calming hand over her heart. "But your emotions have not. Not to the degree they must."

Sighing, he caresses her. "This wasn't your fault, make no mistake. Still, you are at risk. You know what I've told you. With your abilities, you're an open wound, susceptible to infection by others' raw, secret emotions. That makes you valuable, so valuable to your family. But it also means you are a danger. You must learn to guard yourself. Learn to understand what people feel, but not feel it yourself. Do you understand?"

She shakes her head, helpless. And uncomfortable. His large, gentle hand is warm on her chest, and while the stroking gesture is one he has performed since she was little, now that she is older... She cannot explain why it is different, why it bothers her.

When she does not answer, Aldaan takes her left hand and turns it over, palm up. "Do you remember when you started playing the zither? How you cried when you said the strings hurt?"

"They seemed so sharp back then."

"They were sharp. They still are. But your fingers have adjusted, haven't they? Just as I said they would? They learned how to protect themselves. You developed slight calluses and became less vulnerable. To look at them, your beautiful smooth skin, no one would know anything harmed you. That is how you must be, inside."

With a warm smile, he lifts her fingers higher. "How soft and lovely you are, even now. As a woman you will captivate others." He kisses her fingertips, raising goose bumps all along her arm. Then his eyes meet hers, a warning gleam in their dark silver. "But you must develop a shield of steel, dear Kylah. Over your heart. You will keep bleeding and bleeding if you do not. So raise that shield, my dear. With everyone but me. For you will need it."

The memory flashes and dies in a matter of seconds. Kylah inhales sharply and, for the first time in a long while, lets her guardian's advice take hold.

There is no time to linger in self-pity, or to mourn a friendship that never really existed. Ever since joining this ship, with nowhere to go that is truly private, Kylah has been battered by emotions not her own. Forgotten every internal defense she learned before joining Starfleet.

Aldaan was right: she is a raw wound, continually bleeding from every slight contact. This must stop. Her time with Starfleet is surely nearing an end; she must find the strength to last through whatever these last days require.

She clenches her jaw and sets off toward the turbolift that will take her to the A section of the deck, up three levels. As she does, she opens her communicator again and deletes Mr. Johnson's text. Then she sends a voicemail to Lt. Ferguson.

"Cabin 4A14," she whispers, nearing the turbolift. "On my way now. Please confirm with an aye or no, text if necessary, and I will make external contact."

[Elendil's Heir]

Ferguson promptly responds in a text: Let's do it. The yellow-feathered bitch finally left.

Graham's communicator beeps. Vargas's voice is a muted roar: "What the hell is going on, Mr. Graham? Why haven't you left yet?"

[choie]

Kylah exhales raggedly when she receives Lt. Ferguson's curt (albeit offensive) text. Having entered the turbolift, she snaps out a "Deck four" command and starts a new message. Reluctantly she must do so in text; she will have to bleach this as soon as she confirms receipt.

Ms. Soeryadjaya - Be ready within five minutes, standing beside your companion, Mr. Yarrow. You will be beamed into an officer's quarters. I will be outside and will request permission from you to enter, naming my House as mentioned earlier. ** Important: ** Please confirm ASAP when in room together. - KYLAH, H. of the S.W.T.

Message sent, Kylah knows she is now committed. Her forehead feels damp beneath her loose curls, and her stance is that of a racer awaiting the chance to spring forward.

[Elendil's Heir]

After a few moments Soeryadjaya texts back, Understood. We are ready now.