Star Trek RPG - Mission #7: "The War-Brotherhood of Irkhuit"

[choie]

It is always an adjustment to find oneself in an unfamiliar location surrounded mostly by strangers. Though Kylah is a little disconcerted, a pleasant breeze brushes past her, and in addition to delivering the sweet smell of grass, it lifts her curls and flutters her gown's airy fabric against her legs. The effect is immediate and delightful--she feels refreshed, as if just risen from a bath.

Her quick, light step would have revealed her happiness to see Velir even if she were not beaming. "How pretty this place is," she says when close enough to greet him. "You always manage to find the best spots on shore leave. If there is a pub nearby with huge hamburgers, this time I will be ready... if somewhat overdressed," she adds with an apologetic glance down. On Elas, her outfit would be unremarkable, and Kylah is not self-conscious in it. The large instrument case she is still carrying, on the other hand, does stand out. It must seem an odd accessory to the formal gown.

Reaching him, she nods pleasantly toward the others close by, near enough to Velir to have been in conversation. She looks with friendly curiosity at the blue... people? Beings? And nods at the Starfleet officer, who seems as curious about the unknown beings as she is, and--to her eye--just as friendly. To Velir, she murmurs sotto voce, "You have been here only a short time--have you already discovered new life forms?"

[Rangin]

Rangin smiles at the sight of Kylah who is looking sunny and cheerful, the smile as bright and beautiful as the scenery he is looking at. He kicks himself and she reminds him how pretty she can be. He is standing a little further apart from the rest of the group and moves slightly to join her to the spot she beams down to.

“Hello Kylah, it’s great you could come down, I was hoping the view would be to your liking,” then he drops his voice to the same quiet tone that Kylah is using. “It was all quiet until 30 minutes ago, then the new life forms discovered me this time round. Planet called Dardari that I’ve never heard of before and I now have an itch to scratch in finding out more about it.”

He nods across at the lone human in the group, “the last of the trio is Ensign Mäkeläinen, recently posted to the Yorktown as well,”

He turns back to Kylah, once again captivated by the smile she wears all too seldomly, “Shall we wander?”

[Ajay]

Nia's question throws Ajay. “Me? T’Var? We’re exclusively single at the moment. It didn’t work out. We tried for a while, but it didn’t click. I didn’t get her and she didn’t get me. I’ve no regrets on trying, it was fun for a while, but..yeah I thought that one might be serious as well. Turns out, it’s another in a long line of not this time.”

Ajay frowns and then looks across trying to catch the meaning behind the question. “You know I didn’t even think about that, but if it had worked out she’d outlive me by several decades. Maybe we were doing each other a favour after all. Hey, wait a minute, are you using my lack of love life to change the topic?”

Ajay walks across to where she is standing up and wraps his arms around her. “C’mon, you’re not used up, or old, or anything other than the stunning lady I know and respect.” He squeezes her tightly and affectionately before loosening off, “besides the depth of love for someone is how much you miss them when they are gone, no matter how short a period of time it is that you have known them.” He lets go and steps back slightly,

“Damn it you’ve got me oilo…eulo…spouting fancy words at you. Ah who cares, you’re a damn fine woman, no ifs, no buts. Actually, a lot of butt and in great shape too.” Ajay can’t resist pointing out one of Nia’s salient features wondering if the levity might help to cheer her slightly.

“Definitely. Not. Old.” he states while pointing at her. “You’ve still got a few good years ahead of you, and I’ll be cheering you along all the way.”

[SidonianGal]

Nia listens, on edge but gradually growing calmer as Ajay continues to be, well, Ajay. The longer he talks, the more her lips curl in a smile, although one that flickers on and off. He's distracting her, but her heart still hurts.

When he’s done, she shakes her head and steps up to him until she’s only inches away. Her eyes search his for any signs that this is a mistake. After a moment’s judgment she drapes her arms around his neck.

“That’s not why I asked about you and T’Var,” she murmurs.

"Oohhh." Ajay utters when the light finally dawns on what Nia is really looking for. "You know, you only had to ask," before diving in.

With their kiss Nia closes her eyes and sighs, full of need and familiarity and relief and desire. Heartache, too. That’s not going away; it’s there, just as Booker is still there.

But for now, in the circle of her best friend’s arms, Nia at last finds the comfort she’s been seeking.



Nia by me, Ajay by Ajay.

[Elendil's Heir]

The aliens look with interest at Kylah. One says, "Another Human, also from the Yorktown? But not dressed as the others, no no no."

[choie]

Kylah just has time to nod at Velir's suggestion before she hears the Dardarien commenting on her arrival. She walks closer, and sets down her case to have her hands free--this way she can put her palms together, shake their hands, or whatever 'greeting' gesture they might wish to share (if any).

"Good afternoon, it is an honor to meet you. I am indeed a member of the Yorktown crew, although I am not in uniform due to attending a special event on our ship. My name is Ensign Kylah, from the planet Elas. May I ask your names? --That is, if you use any? Not every culture does."

She includes the young officer with her smile. "Ens. Mäkeläinen. I would welcome you aboard, but... of course we are not on board." Her shoulders lift with a tiny self-deprecating shrug, and after a glance at Velir, who of course matches the newcomer's science blue, she turns back. "I am a communications officer. May I ask, what is your department?"

[stolz]

Bizhi watches the lieutenant fiddle with his communicator. Should he take him up on his offer and look him up later, on board? He is the first Yorktown crewmember he has run into, just before commencing a long and---he hopes---fruitful mission. It could be yegelek.

The woman in the evening gown turns out to be another officer from the Yorktown. He knew he was not the only one to think twice about automatically wearing a Starfleet uniform everywhere! Unfortunately, propriety precludes commenting about it to his new alien friends, at least not yet. Never got these fellows' names, Bizhi realizes. He lets the aliens introduce themselves.

He smiles affably at Kylah and shakes her hand. "Pleased to meet you. Call me Bizhi. I'm the new Assistant Medical Officer, though I don't have to report for duty until tomorrow morning. I've just been transferred. In fact, you two are the first crew members from the ship I've met." It drives home that he will have to make new friends, absorb the scuttlebutt, get used to life aboard the Yorktown and his superiors' quirks, make a good first impression. He should remember to call his sister, too.

[choie]

Another new medical officer! Kylah shakes her head ruefully. "I hope you will pardon me if I say I hope I do not require your therapeutic skills very soon. I have had far too many visits to Sickbay since I arrived." She almost mentions Velir as well, since he too has had health problems and injuries. This, however, is not hers to reveal.

"My familiarity with the medical staff means I can assure you that your colleagues are all extremely talented and very friendly." Mostly true, at any rate. Ensign Mäkeläinen--Bizhi--seems far more personable than Dr. Bennett--not that his would be a high standard to meet.

She changes the subject, her interest piqued. "Am I right in detecting a slight Martian accent? Your voice puts me in mind of my Symmetric Cryptography instructor at the Academy, who was from one of the colonies there." After a hesitation she adds quickly, "Please forgive the personal question... Language and diction are two of my specialties..." Kylah sends an apologetic glance to both Bizhi and Velir, although even as she does, she wonders why she thinks Velir will take offense.

[stolz]

"Places like this," he indicates the idyllic view, "it's easy to push all that away into a corner of your psyche." He pauses for a second. For better or for worse. "I saw plenty of action serving on the Eriksson. It's probably bad luck to talk about such things, but, yeah, if you or any of your friends end up on my table, you're in good hands. I'll patch you right up, better than new. Better not to think about that, though."

Kylah's mention of Mars pulls Bizhi into sharp focus. A proud Martian, he has little patience with people who assume he is from Earth, or with clueless or racist people prattling about Mars, even if they think they mean well. He looks Kylah over again. From Elas---came right out and introduced herself that way. He has never been there, but is familiar with the name from various Federation bulletins, including a so-called "scientific" one that described the inhabitants as vicious and arrogant savages, plus a little extra special dose of sexism concerning the women. Switch around a few features and it could have been similar bullshit about Mars, if they thought they could get away with it, or the Klingons.

So they have that much in common. And he approves of her choice not to bother with a regulation uniform. She was right about his accent, too.

"Born and raised," he replies to her question. "I never even got off-planet until I was a teenager." He adds, "The frontier, out here, is more like home than many of the so-called core worlds."

[Elendil's Heir]

One mottled blue alien says, "I am Grathon Vebel, at your service." The other says, "And I am Grathon Ropto, likewise at your service." They both make a sidewise-nod gesture.

In the Arboretum, Graham has lost track of how many people have come up to wish him and his new bride well. The reception line has finally come to an end, but the party is still going full-blast. After Mahmoud hushes the crowd, he and the maid of honor offer heartfelt toasts. Graham and Marala then cut a piece of Russian wedding cake and share a few bites, to the applause and cheers of all, before Marala kisses him and whispers, "Probably time we were on our way, my love, unless you'd like to stay a bit longer. Jeremy has agreed to keep an eye on Nikolai tonight."

[general_urko]

"My love."

So...unforced. Natural. Factual.

Marala was always like that.

So Graham knows he can believe it. And hope that he doesn't let her down.

And all things aside, she was my first love...and everything about her is...'more her' than when we were kids.

"Good man, Jeremy," Graham replies quietly. He smiles slightly and gives Marala's hand a squeeze. "I owe him a nice bottle of scotch, maybe."

"I'm ready to go when you are, Marala," he concludes.

[choie]

The doctor's words are wise, although he seems to have a philosophy surprisingly near superstition. There is a religious sect on Elas that focuses strongly on healing--her parents took her to some services as a little girl in hopes of 'curing' her, but it did little since the so-called healers could not even identify Kylah's specific problem. Which showed just how worthless their alleged spiritual insight actually was. Aside from them, however, she is used to medical professionals being all too blunt and forthright.

But she can tell Bizhi means to reassure her, and she appreciates the effort. She cannot keep from murmuring, "I understand, sir; many people feel that it is bad luck to consider unpleasant possibilities. But... in my experience, bad things happen whether one talks about them or not."

Reflecting on darker times is not her intention on such a day. She shakes off the thoughts and concentrates on his response about his homeworld and--though she has made no attempt to--senses that he is a hair defensive on the subject. She can hardly blame him.

"I agree, it is sometimes a relief to be farther away from the more 'familiar' worlds whose residents populate most of Starfleet. Elas has not yet joined the Federation, and Coridan--" Kylah nods toward Velir, assuming that he has shared his background-- "is relatively new. I have certainly experienced some insularity on the part of some from the better-established member planets. It is hard to understand why a planet so very near to Earth is misunderstood the way Mars is. Which is why it is important to have as many representatives from varied backgrounds as possible. That is Starfleet's guiding principle, after all. Meeting new civilizations and friends."

She turns to the Dardarien. "...Such as yourselves. Although the Universal Translator has done such a very good job with your language thus far, so your people must be better known here than my own poor knowledge reflects. I am sorry to admit how ignorant I am about your world and culture, forgive me. May I ask if 'Grathon' is a form of address, or a shared family name?"

[Elendil's Heir]

The two aliens look at each other for a moment, then back to Kylah. One says, "It is a shared family name, of sorts, but it is... more complicated than that. 'Family' has many meanings, even in Federation Standard, I believe?"

Bizhi's communicator beeps. He sees he has a text marked URGENT: Dr. Mäkeläinen, please report to First Officer Vargas aboard the Yorktown immediately. GARCIA, Lt. JG Ernesto, Communications Officer.

[Rangin]

Rangin hangs back slightly, amused by who the situation is turning out. While he doesn’t mind talking to people, and the more scientific, the better, Kylah is quite happily showing why she can be such a good communications officer, perhaps without even realising that she is doing it.

He has to admit that he did miss that Bizhi came from Mars, but then most humans sound alike to him, in the same way as most humans could not pick up the dialects between the different regions on Coridan.

And some people wondered why they kept Kylah around, despite everything that happened. Well, this is why. She is damn good at her job, whether they know it or not.

Keeping back, Rangin lets the conversation continue as it will, happy to keep observing.

[Elendil's Heir]

Marala takes Graham's hand and says, "It's expected that the bride and groom not stay too long at their own party. Let's say our goodbyes and be on our way."

They do and, before too long, find themselves standing in the corridor outside Marala's quarters. She looks at him expectantly, a wry smile playing around her lips.

[stolz]

He quickly glances at his communicator. "I just received new orders," Bizhi announces matter-of-factly. "I am afraid they need me on the Yorktown immediately." He looks at each of the other two officers for any reaction to this development.

That takes care of plans for this evening. He was considering reporting early anyway to have time to get his bearings, but now he rapidly goes through the possibilities in his mind as to what could be so urgent. A medical emergency? As part of the job, he always has to be prepared for such possibilities. But who on the ship thought to call him specifically, before he had ever set foot on board, instead of whoever is currently on duty, or a more senior physician? He will find out soon enough; right now, he has to keep his mind on point, and the gears have already shifted.

"It was a pleasure meeting all of you," he says to the group, "I have a feeling the conversation was just getting started."

He was just going for a day hike and is not carrying much of consequence, though he does have essential medical supplies like a first-aid kit with basic hypos and smart dressings. He has a tweaked tricorder he has been using to scan interesting-looking plants and a PADD with his notes and personal and professional logs. Between his cyberarm and other tools he could perform emergency surgery on someone in the field, if he had to (Kylah was right about always having to consider unpleasant possibilities, though he knows from working with traumatized patients that that can be a delicate balance, and, deep down in his own soul, he fears there are things and experiences out there of which no sane being may conceive. His reaction is to push himself harder to try and prepare. What alternative is there?) He will have his personal belongings sent up later.

Bizhi flips open his communicator. "Yorktown, this is Ensign Mäkeläinen, the new Assistant Medical Officer. I have orders to come on board. Requesting permission to beam up." He transmits the appropriate orders and coordinates.

[choie]

At the Dardarien's remark about family, Kylah has to nod. "My apologies, you are right, I was inexact. 'Family' has many different meanings both in language and culture. My closest family member has no less strong a bond just because he shares no biological link to me. I do not know anyone who does share such a link, nor would I consider them family even if I--"

She breaks off with a flush, realizing she is getting far too personal, and smiles to cede the point. "I am grateful to have had the chance to meet you both. May our people have the opportunity to learn more about one another someday."

To Bizhi, who has been abruptly called to the ship, Kylah looks concerned. "I do hope this is not a medical emergency. Whenever you wish, I would be happy to help show you around. Or to share a meal, or... well, whatever you like. Although I am sure your fellow medical officers will be hospitable. For now, we--that is, Velir--Ensign--I mean, Lieutenant Rangin and I--" She darts a quick flustered glance toward the man in question before returning to Bizhi. "We will be staying down here for a little while longer."

The afternoon's shadows have lengthened and without her noticing, the sky seems to have turned to a duskier shade. Kylah bids the aliens a farewell, and a more temporary goodbye to her new colleague. She will wait until Bizhi either leaves to a new beam-up spot, or is transported to the ship from here.

As soon as it is no longer inappropriate, she turns her full face to Velir with an open delight she would not show to anyone else. It is fortunate that she is busy holding on to the instrument case, because the desire to reach out, to take his hand, is almost overwhelming.

"I am sorry to have been so chatty. It is just... the day has been so full. In a good way. The best way." Kylah tilts her head and searches his gaze. "It seems a very long time since we have just... talked. I feel very lucky to have the chance again."

She smiles ruefully and gestures toward the path. "Now I will be silent, I promise. Tell me how your day has been..."

[general_urko]

"Ah--I guess should carry you over the threshold, if we want to hold to tradition," Graham offers his new bride.

[Elendil's Heir]

Bizhi hears directly from Transporter Room 1. "Acknowledged, Dr. Mäkeläinen. Please stand by for beamup."

"Thank you, miss," one of the aliens says to Kylah. "It is time we made our way farther along the trail. Best wishes to you all in all your future treks among the stars." They move away.

Marala says, her smile broadening, "Please do, my dear Boojee." She places her arms around his neck.

[Rangin]

Rangin smailes at the infectious nature of Kylah’s delight, happy to see her looking better then she has done for a long while. He can forgive the near slip over his new rank, after all, he still feels like an Ensign some days despite the new braid. He waits for the others to wander away a little further before responding to Kylah’s question.

“I’ve had a really quiet, peaceful, day even with everything going on aboard the Yorktown. I took the opportunity to avoid all the occasion and instead come and find some beautiful scenery to gaze over. I seem to be doubly blessed at this moment.”

“That’s all there really is too it, however I am glad you did decide to come down, though I wasn’t sure if you would be staying at the reception. You’re still holding onto the instrument, so I do hope your part went well.?”

[general_urko]

Graham can't help but smile in return. "Of course," he says quietly. He accepts her grasp his neck, stoops, and lifts her.

He's sure she's weighs at least a little more than when they were teenagers, unsurprisingly. But he's..10, 100, infinitely? stronger than he was then.

That's something at least.

I can 'sweep her off her feet.'

[choie]

Kylah is just now realizing that Velir has paid her a compliment by noting the additional beauty he is enjoying. The words are deftly subtle, not objectifying the way so many men comment on her appearance. Still her face blooms with heat, and she looks down at the case in her grasp. She has not heard his praise in a very long time. Even when they were close, he was not inclined to remark on such things. It means much more to her now.

"Thank you," she whispers, then continues as if her skin were not tingling with pleasure. "I--the song went well, I think. It was not much noticed, to be honest, as it came after the kiss, and that was all people focused on. As it should be." Kylah looks up at Velir and has a flash of a fantasy, what it would be like to kiss him in public, at such an occasion. Or in private, with no music or applause but the chorus in her heart...

"But Mrs. Gromov--Graham--seemed to recognize it," she blurts, shifting her gaze quickly to the path. "That is all Mr. Graham wanted. It was so good to see him that happy. After all the trauma we have all been through."

She does not want to remember the awfulness of the past week, but if nothing else there is one thing she must address. The case feels heavy and she sets it down, rubbing her hands together and falling still. "Velir... I know this may open up a subject that is unpleasant, but... with all the double watches I have been on, and the extra work you have been doing...

"I have not had a chance to adequately express just how much--how very much I owe you." Kylah's voice softens, although there is no one nearby aside from tiny animals just barely visible among the grass and trees. "Without your help I could not have saved my--my uncle's friend. It went against your principles, and--and you may not believe it, but it went against mine, it did, but I truly felt I had no choice."

She bites her lips and after a moment's regret quickly shakes her head. "No, my feelings were unimportant. It was your principles that mattered, and which makes your kindness even more extraordinary. And I just want to thank you. I fulfilled my duty and saved the lives I needed to, and you have no idea what it meant, that you... that you let me. I am so sorry for putting you in that position, and yet am so grateful..."

Staring up at him, she swallows, words seeming too insignificant to share her feelings. Kylah sways a little nearer, as if gravity itself has altered and now centers on Velir Rangin. Before she can second-guess the instinct, she takes a micro-step forward and gives him the slightest, swiftest kiss on his cheek, lips doing little more than brushing his skin, before she ducks her head down to stare at the case in front of her. "Thank you for being my truest friend."

[stolz]

Mäkeläinen is standing by for beam-up, of course.

If there was time before transport to utter a brief yet sincere valediction to the aliens and to his fellow crewmates, take it as read that he did so.

[choie]

Kylah did indeed hear Bizhi's goodbye and let's say she returned it. - choie

[Rangin]

Beside Kylah, Rangin can feel the brush of her lips on his cheek and the electric buzz of pleasure that starts in his head and races down his spine. The smile quivers on his lips at the sudden tingle of excitement that rushes through him.

Something comes unbidden to mind, a hillside, a flash of lightning, a feeling of electricity from just a small peck on the cheek. A few things click in his mind and the smile becomes even broader.

“If you don’t mind, would you like me to carry your case for you?” he politely asks Kylah, all the while slipping one hand into hers.

* * *

Startled by Velir’s handclasp, Kylah braces herself for the uncontrolled emotional onslaught that has passed between them whenever their hands have touched--ever since his orbital skydiving accident not long ago that triggered the dormant Sakathian virus symptoms.

But she feels nothing like the terror and violent memories she experienced before. His hand is warm, just like the calm emotions radiating steadily toward her. They are a reflection of her own, in fact.

Of course--that is the difference. Both times they shared this empathic bond, it was during her extreme panic, the dread of imminent danger. Her own emotions had been magnified and mirrored back to her, along with his reaction. A feedback loop that only worsened every second they were in contact.

A flicker of disappointment nags at her. Is this just her delight that she senses? Not his, after all?

“Carry my case,” she repeats, a little dazed. “Oh. Yes, yes please.” As he bends to pick the lute case with his other hand--not letting go of her, though it would be natural to do so--Kylah continues to watch him. He has not accepted her apology--not with words--but he must have forgiven her, he would not seem this gentle or fond otherwise. He has not objected to the kiss, either. Indeed, his smile is wider.

Her doubt fades and her own rare smile--not so rare, today--returns. The pleasure is not just hers, not a mere reflection. It is mutual, passing from him to her as well. They share this happiness, this peace, together. His strength emboldening hers, her affection matched by his.

Unlike every time they have so much as brushed against one another in the recent past, Kylah does not recoil from his grasp. Instead, her fingers return his affectionate squeeze, and another ripple of contentment flows through them like warm honey.

“Velir,” she says--shy but daring to ask anyway. “Do you… do you feel that too?”

* * *

Thoughts of discoveries and being able to help fade as Kylah’s question registers. He is not sure if he heard it or felt it, but this overwhelming sense of peace, of happiness, feels both familiar and yet more powerful, more emotional than he knows or has perhaps not felt for so long.

Standing in glorious sunshine, overlooking a beautiful scene and holding onto Kylah’s hand as if some parts of the past had never happened.

"I... I feel…" and his voice trails off, not having the words to describe it.

He looks across at her and squeezes her hand again, not wanting to say anything further that might spoil this moment before leading her onwards towards the sunset.




Rangin by me, Kylah by choie.

[Elendil's Heir]

Marala is perhaps a bit heavier than Graham remembers, but he carries her with ease across the threshold and into her quarters. "Mission accomplished," she laughs as the doors whoosh shut behind them. Still in his arms, she takes his head in her hands and kisses him - a long, slow passionate kiss. "Thank you, Boojee."

Dr. Mäkeläinen says his farewells and disappears into the transporter beam, soon rematerializing in Transporter Room 1. A small, older Asian man in red Engineering coveralls is behind the console, and a slim, very attractive young Anglo woman in a Command yellow dress stands beside him. "Welcome aboard the Yorktown, Doctor," she says. She has a beautiful smile, he can't help but notice. "I'm Lt. Cecilia Bennett, the New Crew Liaison Officer."

Rangin and Kylah enjoy their time together on the planet's surface before, as the star-filled night comes on, returning to the ship.

[general_urko]

She's happy. Honest to fucking god happy.

Graham accepts Marala's kiss fully--how could he not, she's the first woman he ever loved, as attractive as ever, and she's now his wife.

But a lot flashes once it ends. Jane shouldn't have died. At least not without me. Nia...Nia deserved...I don't know. A lot better. Love, yes...not the way things happened.

But right here, right now, I've made Marala happy.

"You never need to thank me for ever being the man you deserve in spades," Graham replies, giving her a squeeze. "But I hope I can give you a hundred reasons to think about doing so every day."

[stolz]

“Ma'am,” Bizhi acknowledges, “Chief.”

The lieutenant, Bennett, has beautiful eyes. She is— smiling? Not a horrible emergency, then? “It's an honour to be here. I've been looking forward to working with all of you. But,” he prods, “could you tell me what's going on? I was expecting to meet you tonight, or at least in the morning, to be sure. But the First Officer wants to see me stat?”

[Elendil's Heir]

Marala kisses him again, more lightly, and smiles. "Then I'd say you're already off to a great start, my love."

Bennett says, "This is Chief Nguyen, one of our best transporter chiefs. Thanks for your help, Chief." He nods. "This way, please, Doctor." She strides out, saying as she goes, "Yes, Cmdr. Vargas thought it best to have you come aboard right away. I'll let him explain why." She accompanies Bizhi down the corridor to the nearest turbolift, telling him more about the USS Yorktown and her crew, and the shipboard wedding which just concluded.

[stolz]

Bizhi is able to unwind infinitesimally, enough to start taking in the reality of being aboard a new ship: bulkheads and corridors, crewmembers going about their business. All routine, but this particular instance of it new to him. Ideally, not for long.

He appreciates Bennett's infodump. She really has liaising honed to a fine art, and makes him feel welcome. It also goes toward reinforcing his impression of what appears to be a crack crew. Especially appreciated regarding the transporter chief; not that Bizhi is apprehensive about beaming up, exactly, but the theory and every known experiment shows the process to be almost suspiciously reliable.

A big shipboard wedding, that sounds like an notable event. That accounts for Kylah's gown and instrument case. A big turnout is not surprising; people want to believe in love, hang on to such emotions, all the more so when they spend their time on isolated, dangerous missions. There are no Starfleet regulations against romance, is what they say. Bizhi himself is no monk, but as a surgeon on board a starship such things are already more complicated. Who knows who might end up being one of his patients? Then it is a matter of ethics. Nor would he want to visualize their injured or lifeless body lying in front of him. Many of the young, single doctors dealt with the stress by hooking up with each other, or at least with someone on the medical staff. A natural consequence of propinquity.

He will have to check in with the Captain, then the senior medical officer. But he cannot begin to plan such details before finding out what Cmdr. Vargas wants.

[Elendil's Heir]

As planetary night falls, Rangin and Kylah eventually return to the ship.

Bennett leads Bizhi to the spartan office of Cmdr. Pablo Vargas, who somewhat offhandedly welcomes him aboard the ship, adding, "I heard you'd already arrived in-system and thought you'd want to get an early start, especially since we don't know for sure yet when we're breaking orbit. Report to the Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Villa, after you leave here."

Dr. Miriam Villa, a small, energetic, middle-aged woman with spiky hair, rolls her eyes a bit when Bizhi visits Sickbay and tells her what the First Officer said. "He's more impatient than I am," she confides. "It's good to have you aboard, but there was no particular reason for you to cut short your shore leave, really. Sorry about that." She shows him around Sickbay, introduces him to the other Medical staff and describes a current study she's undertaken on Rigellian lung disorders. Bennett then shows him to his quarters, which he will be sharing with Dr. Nathaniel Bennett ("A cousin of mine," the navigator tells him, "and a Sickbay colleague of yours"), who's not there at the moment. She also gives Bizhi a data pad with lots of information for new crewmembers, and encourages him with a friendly smile to call if he has any questions, before leaving.

Graham and Marala enjoy a very happy wedding night together.

The next morning, the Yorktown's daily announcements on each of your comm accounts include the news that a preliminary hearing will be held in Conference Room 1 at 1100 hours as to the case of Federation v. Paul Hutchinson AKA Annette White. None of you are on duty at that time, if you wish to attend. Graham and Onn, in fact, are ordered to attend, pursuant to a separate notice from the Starfleet Judge Advocate General's Office, "... and be prepared to give testimony as to the surrender and apprehension of defendant, a fugitive at the time, to personnel of USS Yorktown at the Novy Rostov colony."



For more: https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki...vocate_General

[SidonianGal]

The snap of Nia’s hair clip signifies the last step of her preparation, and she backs up a little from the mirror. The image staring back at her seems no different from any other day, or night for that matter: Mass of springy, tightly coiled russet-colored hair tamed into a low ponytail. Gold uniform with its thick gold Lieutenant’s braid and standard figure-conforming shape that displays her strong form softened by curves. Black tights and boots showing off long legs.

And, for the first time since fleeing Novy Rostov, eyes that don’t seem like a haunted wraith who’s lost her puppy.

The sliding door behind her whooshes open, sending steam from the shower to fog up the mirror. Rolling her eyes, she wipes the condensation away with her sleeve. “You’re ruining my contemplation of this dazzling vision before me. Shut the door!”

[Ajay]

Ajay is busy toweling himself off when he is sure he can hear Nia saying something. He sticks his head around into the main cabin and sees her standing tall, the very image of a prim and proper officer of Starfleet, only this time with a happier look on her face.

“Sorry, was that you wanting to see a glorious vision in front of you? Well I’m right here.” He’s looking for those tell-tale creases round her eyes and perhaps an annoyed, but amused, flicker of eyes in his general direction. He wanders a little closer, well aware that all he has to defend his modesty is one small towel, not that it ever came between them.

“Thanks for last night, that was different. You look a little more relaxed as well, not to mention, damn fine in that uniform.” While teasing her playfully is something that comes naturally, he still wants to make sure she's beginning to get over Graham. “Joking aside, how are you doing?” he asks in a more unusually serious tone.

[choie]

Kylah sighs in rapture, eyes closed to savor the moment. The morsel she is chewing so delightedly is not quite Bellaque, but of course, it could not be: that Elasian pastry cannot possibly be replicated, by machine or non-Elasian hand--though Chef Johnson once made an excellent attempt that was delicious in its own way.

Still, while the taste of the syrup-drenched waffle in front of her might not measure up to a Terran's standard of its freshly made counterpart... it is certainly satisfying her sweet tooth.

The Mess does not seem as crowded as usual, she observes while finishing her meal. Perhaps many have eaten earlier. Or have gone down to the planet. Kylah mentally shrugs and sets the fork down. She takes a discreet lick of her thumb, sticky with syrup.

A good night's sleep, this delicious breakfast, nothing on her agenda today except perhaps attending the unusual hearing later, if she decides to go... Kylah could not feel better. Her happiness is not even dependent on any of that. Resuming her friendship with Velir Rangin... Friendship? Maybe more, maybe someday soon, if they continue to talk and rebuild the trust that once existed between them.

Their long stroll together had been sweet, full of light-hearted conversation and warm, content silences. And once the sky turned into an indigo blanket sprinkled with stars, they readied themselves to beam up to the ship and Velir had lifted his communicator to call Chief Nguyen. But his eyes caught Kylah's and he did not speak. She had stared up at him. The breeze whispered between them, seemed to beckon them closer. And...

Kylah flushes and takes her napkin to blot her mouth. If she is to attend a hearing about a man who slaughtered his family--allegedly--she does not want to associate any of it with what happened, or what could have happened, last night.

She wonders if Velir will be attending the hearing. Or any of her more friendly colleagues. Lt. Thalen, she suspects he would wish to attend. Lt. Zheng, the temporary roommate she has not seen since they arrived at Beta Antares. Or Dr. T'Var, Frederick Mayhew, Carlos Alvarez,,, or the new arrival, Dr. Mäkeläinen, for that matter. What a horrid incident with which to begin his career on the Yorktown. At least it cannot compare to the awfulness of the Novy Rostov tragedy, which was Dr. Bennett's introduction.

Grasping her tray before standing up, she twists around in her seat to see if any of them are nearby.

[Elendil's Heir]

As it happens, Dr. T'Var is just coming through the Mess door. She sees Kylah, nods and comes over. "Good morning, Kylah," she says, in as friendly a way as a Vulcan is probably capable of. "How are you today?"

[SidonianGal]

Nia catches the reflection of Ajay’s concerned gaze behind her. “You had to ruin the moment with sincerity.” She returns to her own face in the glass, measures herself up, then turns around. “Honestly? I feel… okay. Settled.”

She moves to him and lifts a hand, thumb gently brushing a hint of shaving foam from his cheek. “I’m the one who’s grateful. I could’ve hooked up with almost anyone yesterday, but I didn’t want sex. Not just sex.” Her quick, quirky smile melts into affection. “I needed to feel cared for. Cared about. For the first time in what feels like forever--even though it’s only been a week, an endless, shitty week.”

Nia’s fingers move from brushing away the soap to combing through Ajay’s damp mop of black curls. Then she turns from tender to playful, scruffing his hair. “I know I’m risking feeding your already outsized ego, but Aje, I don’t think a single soul on this ship could’ve given me what I wanted the way you did. Other than…”

...Other than the man who made her feel like worthless cargo dumped out into space. Her throat tightens, but she quickly catches herself and smiles again. “Sorry. It’s gonna take a little while. Maybe a long one.” Nia exhales, looks up and down at Ajay's nearly naked form, and raises an appreciative eyebrow. “Speaking of length…You look pretty damn fine in your 'uniform' yourself. I've got this hearing to deal with, but you’re still on shore leave. Maybe you can go down to the planet and make use of it?”

[Ajay]

“Well, you’ll be glad to know that I do care about you. Although I don’t think you’d care for a wet handprint on your backside before you leave the cabin. People would talk.” Ajay raises one slightly damp hand and waves it at Nia.

“As for planetside, already been there. Restock of the supplies needed fetching.” Ajay catches himself before he mentions the wedding reception needing several of those. “But, it’s got some pretty bits to it, so I’m sure I can find some tropical taverna to drink the night away. I’ll recce ‘em and let you know. You’ll need a drink after the hearing, I know I always do.” He looks her squarely in the eye with an evil grin , “Don’t ask!”

He looks at how prepared she is for the day compared to his current state of dress or lack of it. “Look, if you wanna head off, get some grub beforehand, and then sort out the trial thingy, I’ll tidy up here, don’t you worry about it. Go, be an officer and an upstanding one at that for the day, then relax this evening. I can invite a few others if you want to make a party of it. After all, friends are for when life gets shit and you need a pick-me-up.

Having fully dried off, Ajay dangles the towel from one hand before nonchalantly flipping it over one shoulder. “Of course, if I’m going to do anything, I’d better get dressed as well.”

[choie]

Kylah's eyes brighten. She has a special affection for the doctor, even though they have not spent much time together recently. Sliding her chair over to make space, she nods to the one beside her. "Please, sit down, unless you are already engaged with other company elsewhere."

Regardless of whether T'Var accepts the offer, Kylah folds her hands together on her lap and leans forward, like a schoolgirl anxious to impress a tutor with how much she knows. "I am doing well, thank you. Very well indeed." How often has she been able to say that to anyone--while actually meaning it?

"The wedding yesterday was so beautiful, and spending time on the planet... do you know, I cannot remember the last time I was actually outdoors in the fresh air? I suppose it was on Sigma Iota. But while that was outdoors, the air was certainly not fresh."

She almost laughs at imagining Dr. T'var, Velir and Lt. Graham in those bizarre mobster outfits from ancient Earth, transported from the dingy urban streets to the pastoral paths of Beta Antares. Of course her own 1920s-era dress would look no less silly. "The important thing is that I went down and back without sustaining an injury. That is a first."

Kylah shrugs and puts a hand on her chest. "My apologies, Doctor. I rarely have such pleasantries to impart. But enough of me. I saw you at the wedding, I believe. Did you enjoy it? How did it compare to ones back home?"

[SidonianGal]

Grinning at Ajay's shamelessness--one of the many things she loves about him--Nia lifts a palm as if to ward him off. "Depending on what you want to do, the towel might've been more than enough. But sure, stay, make yourself pretty for the locals dirtside. You know where everything is." Her lip curls in amusement. "As you reminded me last night."

She turns to leave, sweeping a datapad up from her sloppy desk. But when she reaches the door and it whooshes open, she lifts her face toward her dearest friend.

"No joking, Aje. Thank you for... for everything. You’ve given me myself back. After this past week, especially after yesterday... not even Booker could do that.”

Parting from him with a warm smile, Nia strides out to the corridor to find some coffee.

[stolz]

Bizhi is too new to know exactly how he should take it, but is more bemused than upset that Vargas seemingly did not leave him to his own judgment on how to spend his own shore leave. After all, barring exigent circumstances, if he wanted to report on board later in the evening or even in the morning it would be his business, although it is always a good idea to report the day before and have a little more time to get settled and oriented.

He really enjoys meeting Dr. Villa and the other staff. Meeting the team also marks his true arrival as part of the crew. He hopes he soon gets a chance to prove himself by asking for and taking on some responsibility. He is anxious about making a good impression, or at least something is causing some muscular tension; he is well versed in the physical and mental symptoms. Fortunately, he knows from experience that work is the best cure for his particular brand of nervous energy, certainly better in all respects than pyrrolydinic stimulants or subspace-induced synaptic polarization.

Left to his own devices, Bizhi first gets his hands on some coffee. Back in his quarters, he reviews his assigned watches, stations, and appointments, and takes the time to study Bennett's data packet in detail. He makes the necessary arrangements to have the rest of his personal belongings sent up; he does not have that much baggage, certainly nothing that takes up limited space or that [the other] Bennett would mind, but there are his extra clothes, a few hanging plants, sample jars, compact high-tech tools, even a couple of real, paper books. Also, various odd alien artefacts he has picked up here and there on his travels.

He has not forgotten his resolution to contact his sister, Ishi, but is not quite sure what to say to her. She would be happy simply to hear from him, even something bland. Too easy to lose touch, and Martians are not the sentimental sort. Finally, he ends up recording a video message that will be relayed to Mars across the subspace network: Issa, sorry it's been so long. It's too easy to lose track of time. You would love Antares; you might think no place lives up to its holos, but in this case you would be wrong. There is life everywhere, and you should see it for yourself! I'm squared away on my new ship now, and we'll be breaking orbit soon. From what I was able to see, everything is done here on a very high level. It's a busy place, stuff is constantly happening, and I'm sure in a matter of weeks I'll already have a lifetime's worth of crazy stories, but don't worry. Take care of yourself.

The morning announcement of a judicial hearing seems notable. For one thing, it is highly unusual that such a hearing would take place aboard a Starfleet vessel or otherwise even involve the Fleet, but the word is that some of the Yorktown's officers were involved. Something about a fugitive killer. Purely judicial matters are not something Bizhi would normally pay any attention to, but, on the other hand, there promises to be some interesting forensic pathology; apparently the guy got a top-shelf identity swap with all the trimmings at some Orion clinic, and learning the details of who, when, where, and what was done would be well worth it. The real full monty is definitely beyond the skills of the average patcher. Bizhi thinks maybe he can see how it could be pulled off, at least assuming access to bleeding-edge Orion or Rigelian equipment, or some of the stuff the Romulans are rumoured to have, or equivalent-level tech, at a minimum. Mere cosmetic changes are much more accessible, but would not fool a deep medical scan.

[Elendil's Heir]

With a word of apology, Dr. T'Var gets a plate of chopped fruit and a mug of steaming hot lisin tea before sitting down with Kylah. She then says, with a small Vulcan smile, "I'm glad your visit to the planet went well, and did not require me to then see you in Sickbay in my professional capacity." As to weddings, she says, "Vulcan weddings tend to be quieter and more formal affairs than this one, as well as considerably less... demonstrative, as I am sure it will not surprise you to learn. But I enjoyed seeing Mr. Graham 'get hitched,' as the saying goes, and hope that he and his wife will be very happy together."

Dr. Mäkeläinen's personal effects are beamed up from the surface and delivered to his new quarters without difficulty; his subspace message to his sister Ishi is also sent through.

That morning, Graham and Onn are separately and briefly interviewed by Lt. Cmdr. Emmett Baird of the Starfleet JAG Corps and his co-counsel, Lt. Sarah Foley, who have reviewed your reports about what happened on Novy Rostov and just have a few questions of their own.



At the appointed hour, the hearing convenes. The room is not overcrowded; most of the Yorktown's crew apparently prefer to enjoy shore leave than to attend such functions.

Everyone stands as Capt. Sundri Parvinder Singh of the Yorktown enters with two other officers and takes the center chair along the long edge of the Theban marble table; as the senior officer present, she is also presiding officer of the hearing. Capt. Enoch Potter of the USS Viraat, the Yorktown's sister ship, takes the seat to her right; to Singh's left sits Cmdr. Kiichi Norita, commanding officer of the scoutship USS Rodgers. Both ships had responded to the crisis on Novy Rostov and returned to Beta Antares IV with their fair share of the evacuees. All three officers are in Starfleet dress uniform and have datapads close at hand. "Please be seated," Singh says.

Facing the hearing panel from behind another, smaller table are the defendant, looking much as she did on Novy Rostov but now in a featureless dark coverall, with two redshirts seated behind her. A civilian lawyer from Beta Antares IV, Emily Martin, sits beside her, her hands folded and a stack of datapads before her. At another, identical table to their right, the two JAG officers sit calmly.

Singh picks up a small wooden mallet and gently raps the ship's bell on the table two times, then twice again, then twice more, in the time-honored custom of Starfleet jurisprudence. "This hearing will come to order," she says.

[SidonianGal]

Nia stands and sits as required, her hands surreptitiously tucked underneath her thighs to warm them up. Nervousness has sapped the blood away from them, while wary alertness draws out her protective scales.

She's not exactly sure what she's anxious about, other than being in the presence of a murderer. It's not the first time, and probably won't be the last. But this sorta thing doesn't exactly get to be a habit. At least not in her job. Security officers, on the other hand...

Her eyes shift to Booker for a millisecond before returning to gaze at Paul Hutchinson. Nia would've preferred to leave him behind. Now look at the time and effort being expended on the guy. But no, we had to waste space on this fucker. Meanwhile we got in trouble for saving a nine-year-old!

She presses her lips together into a thin, tilting smile. Correction: she's the one who got into trouble. Booker got a wedding celebration.

Wryly amused at the inequity, Nia can only give a nearly silent chuckle and shake her head. The bitterness is dull now--not gone, but not sharp. Six hours of fucking'll do that, she thinks, and risks laughter again before sobering appropriately.

Hands warm again, they need something to do, so she pulls them up and takes the datapad beside her, holding on to it with a much tighter grip than necessary.

[general_urko]

Especially after his stint doing planet-side law enforcement, this kind of proceeding is second nature to Graham.

He's only thrown off by not knowing how to interact with Nia. If at all.

He takes a deep breath and holds back a sigh. Well I guess if she ever wants the time of day from me, she'll let me know.

[stolz]

Dr. Mäkeläinen has plenty to do and plenty to get acquainted with, but he has not been on board long enough to pick up any extra extra work. He decides that the potential scientific parts of the testimony make the unusual, sombre hearing worth attending. He is not directly involved in any way, but something about the affair gives him the creeps. He does not go out of his way to collect scuttlebutt about it.

In the morning, before the hearing, he is out of the mess and in Sickbay before 0800. He makes sure to touch base with everyone and get familiar with all of the stations and with where everything is, and to understand everyone's duties.

[Elendil's Heir]

Dr. Mäkeläinen learns even more about Sickbay, its layout, operations and staff today, and is welcomed by virtually everyone he meets. The sole exception is his cabinmate, Dr. Nathaniel Bennett, to whom he's introduced in the Medical lab. The young physician shakes his hand with no great enthusiasm and says, almost bored, "At last, the man who's robbing me of my privacy has arrived. Hello, Doctor."

At the hearing, Onn and Graham remain seated, not far and yet a world away from each other, ready for their turns to testify, if needed.

As the tone of the bell fades away, Capt. Singh says, "By order of Rear Adm. George Barnstable, Judge Advocate General, the Starfleet convening authority, and pursuant to Starfleet regulations as to felony courts-martial, I hereby call this hearing to order." For the record, she introduces herself, the other members of the court-martial panel and counsel for both the prosecution and the defense. "Defense counsel has advised the court that, defendant having undergone an identity swap including a sex change, she now considers herself female and asks that she be referred to accordingly. The court and all parties will comply with this request. This is a preliminary hearing to advise the defendant of the charges against her, to answer any questions she might have, and to enter her plea on the record. I now turn to the Judge Advocate, Lt. Cmdr. Baird."

The lead prosecution counsel, a lanky, balding black man in his thirties, rises. "Thank you, Madame President. The defendant, Paul Hutchinson AKA Annette White, is charged by the United Federation of Planets with two counts of homicide in the first degree, alleging that she murdered her wife, Patricia Hutchinson, and her son, Kevin Hutchinson, age 7, both by poisoning. This occurred approximately two years ago, on or about Stardate 3142.7. Defendant was a lieutenant of Starfleet Engineering at the time, subject to Starfleet discipline, and the two victims were both poisoned and within four days died at Starbase 9, a Starfleet facility then and now under Federation jurisdiction. While an investigation was still underway, defendant fled Starbase 9, contrary to the direct order of a superior officer, and disappeared, giving rise to the single count of obstruction of justice also brought against him, er, her."

He looks at his datapad, then continues, "A warrant for defendant's arrest was subsequently issued by the Federation District Court on Pelham III. Her whereabouts were unknown until just a few days ago. At that time, still a fugitive from justice and having undergone an identity swap to further obstruct the due course of justice and avoid apprehension, she revealed herself on Novy Rostov to personnel of the USS Yorktown, the ship on which this honorable court is now in session. Had she not then been facing imminent death along with many of the Novy Rostov colonists under circumstances unfortunately all too well-known to those now present, the Federation has no reason to believe that she would otherwise have stepped forward. She was taken into lawful custody pursuant to the warrant, advised of her rights, assigned counsel and brought without delay to Beta Antares IV, the world which this ship now orbits."

[choie]

Having slipped into the large room with just moments to spare, Kylah is now settled on one of the chairs in back. She is curious about the legal process; the closest she has come to such an affair was her interview with the investigators of the attack on Anubis. And once the kidnappers had been caught, there was no trial--at least, none that required her participation.

She frowns slightly. It has not been that long. Is it possible the matter is still being adjudicated? Will she be required to make a statement of some sort? She files this question away, preferring to keep that incident a memory for now.

Instead she listens keenly to the prosecutor, embarrassed to have missed most of the captain's speech. Kylah is surprised to see the defendant/alleged killer, a woman rather than a man as Kylah had heard. Like most gossip, it has proven unreliable. She tries to get a good look at Annette White. Is she using any defense other than 'not guilty'? And if she is guilty, will it show?

Can I tell? Kylah's eyes open wide, alarmed by her own idea. Of course she could try to gauge the defendant's emotions and thoughts. It would be easy to do so. But it would be wrong, terribly wrong. And likely illegal, anyway. Else the prosecution would simply call in a Vulcan to perform a mind meld. Besides, what good would it do? Anything Kylah learned would have to remain a secret anyway. Until and unless Kylah's empathic abilities are revealed to everyone--which, she prays fervently, will never happen--whatever useful information Kylah might sense would have to remain just as hidden.

Still, the temptation is now uppermost in her mind and Kylah wishes very, very much that it had not occurred to her at all. She forces her gaze away from Annette White to focus on the prosecutor, or on Captain Singh, or basically anyone else in the makeshift courtroom other than the one person whose deeds and thoughts are the entire purpose of the hearing.

[SidonianGal]

Furrowing her brow, Nia crosses her arms across her chest and her right leg over her left. Shielding herself, in a way, from the ugly crime. Too, she's also not pleased by the captain's admonitions regarding how to refer to the killer. Oh yes, a woman. Now. How convenient to have figured out her true identity only after slaughtering her family and needing a full ID swap!

Bull. But a clever defense strategy, Nia grants. From what she's seen, Federation culture generally extends sympathy to women, more than men. Quite the opposite on Sidonia. If Paul-Annette Hutchison-White killed a still-fertile breeding asset and--worse--a child? Death would be swift.

She realizes she's exhaled huffily in contempt, and immediately dials back her emotions. Again she casts a side-eye toward Booker. No way he's any more thrilled by this than she is. But he's a pro. How many times has he had to testify in such cases? What will he be like, answering questions from defense and prosecution? She's curious. She'll be a lot weaker than he will, that's for sure. But probably most of the other non-Security people will be.

Speaking of other witnesses... Is Rangin here? Nia turns slightly to check the audience. He was the one who identified all the fugitive's surgeries and the Orion connection and so on, wasn't he? Or was that Bennett? Nia sits back, mentally shrugging. The events on that day are--not surprisingly--a blur. Facing the front, Nia concentrates on the speeches and wishes she still had the kind of relationship with Booker where they'd feel like... partners. Maybe never. Maybe tomorrow.

But one thing's for certain: not today.

[Rangin]

Rangin sits in the science lab at the screen in front of him as he scans through articles from his time in the field as a xenobiologist. It’s occupying his attention for more than the current hearing going on, but he is paying it half a mind to it, curious to see how it will go down.

Admittedly, he would have left them behind, they hadn’t been selected in the lottery and there would likely be a certain amount of catharsis for the relatives of the victims knowing he had met a very final end from an exploding star. Somehow, Rangin is finding it difficult to wrap his head around the waste of time and resources because as far as he is concerned justice is not being done.

He metaphorically kicks himself for thinking so hard on it, when he is looking up something far more important, if he is correct.

Where was it, where was it? Rangin stops on an article on tranquilising animals in the field, not just through pharmaceutical methods, but also by electrical, with enough of a jolt to stun the nervous system.

He drums his fingers on the desk wondering if this is part of the answer to the riddle Kylah set him a while ago with a burnt-out communicator. He will have to dig a little further to find out.

As he sits back, his thoughts drift back to Kylah and the walk in the gloaming they had last night. He cannot help but smile, the closeness they had together, the intertwined hands, the close embrace just before they beamed up. Rangin wonders if he is going too fast, too quick, but when it came to matters like this it always seemed to happen.

And yet, here he is, still smiling about it.

[Elendil's Heir]

The prosecutor speaks for a few more minutes about the case and then concludes, "Accordingly, Madame President, the Federation asks that this honorable court take the defendant's plea today and set a schedule for pretrials and discovery. This is a complex case, for the reasons I've explained, and I anticipate that a general court-martial trial might not begin for some months yet, most likely on Starbase 9." He sits.

"Thank you, Mr. Baird," Capt. Singh says.

The defendant leans towards her civilian lawyer and they converse - calmly at first, but then the defendant becomes more agitated. The lawyer seems to be trying to soothe her.

Capt. Singh asks mildly, "Is there a problem, counsel?"

Atty. Emily Martin, an older woman with sad eyes and broad shoulders, rises and says, "No, Madame President. My client had some things she wanted to tell me, and now she has. I thank opposing counsel for his summary of the case."

"Have you had enough time to discuss the case with your client up to today, Ms. Martin?"

"At this point in the proceedings, yes, ma'am, but of course we have a lot more to talk about. While the Yorktown was en route from Novy Rostov, I was able to talk with and see my client over a secure, confidential subspace channel, and I thank you, Madame President, for making that available to us."

"Certainly. I should note for the record, you're appearing today as civilian counsel, as permitted under Starfleet regulations, but you may also have a JAG Corps officer appointed to the defense team. This would be with the usual safeguards to ensure the compartmentalization of information and the ethical representation of Starfleet co-counsel, of course, as the prosecution team, obviously, is comprised of two other JAG officers. Ms. Hutchinson, do you wish to have the services of a JAG officer, as well?"

"No, Madame President," Hutchinson says, "but...."

Martin says, somewhat curtly, "Hold off on that other point for now, please, Ms. White. There's still time yet."

"But...."

Martin quickly says, "A moment, please, Madame President," sits down and leans close to her client, talking quietly but animatedly. Soon she rises again and says, "We're now ready to proceed, Madame President, and thank you." The defendant crosses her arms and leans back in her chair.

"Is that so, Ms. Hutchinson?" Singh asks.

The defendant doesn't look happy, but says, "Yes, Madame President."

[choie]

Literally on the edge of her seat, Kylah listens to all this with rapt attention. She tries to understand the proceedings, the legal terminology, the various officers who seem like dignitaries in their formal uniforms, but it all remains somewhat arcane to her.

The interaction between the defendant and her counsel, however, is much less obscure--at least, the general impression of what seems to be a significant disagreement between the two. Kylah shakes her head slightly every time Ms. Hutchinson tries to speak over her own attorney. Clearly the older woman knows the law and strategy better than her client. Why are they so at odds?

It is madness to side with a murderer--an alleged murderer. But with almost everyone in the room against the defendant, she cannot help sympathizing. And if she were in Ms. Hutchinson's position, she would wish to have a say in her own defense strategy. What could the disagreement be? Looking at the defendant's unhappy expression, Kylah grows more and more uncomfortable--and less and less confident that attending this hearing was a good idea.