Star Trek RPG - Mission #3: "Some Other Side of Paradise"

Collins heads to the Gym to warm up before her "meeting" with Ens. Graham. Boxing? No. Fencing? Maybe. Basketball! Yeah! she decides while changing in the locker room. Out on the floor, she stretches a bit then goes over to the ball rack to choose her 'weapon'.

Graham emerges from the men's locker room and sees Collins is already in the Gym--but he breathes a sign of relief that, unlike last time, she does not appear to have been waiting long. He trots over to her: "So L-T, what'll it be: fists, weapons, pillowfight? Your call!" He claps his hands together once, shakes his shoulders lose, and flexes his knees a bit.

Still facing the rack, Collins smiles, grabs a basketball, turns and fires it at Graham. "How about a little one-on-one? If you think you can take me!" She sprints over to the court and takes up a defensive position in front of the basket.

Graham makes a note of how quickly she covers the distance, follows her at a trot and returns the smile. He turns the ball over in his hands contemplatively. He gives the ball a couple bounces. "I was expecting more hitting, less bouncing..." he feints to her right to gauge her reaction (at about 85% of effort, so as not to give his full range of movement and speed away). "But then again, I haven't seen you play before." He feints right again (this time at 80% of effort, to encourage her to believe the first move was all-out). "But are we just playing for pride here, L-T? Truth be told, I don't have much left, really. Might not be fully motivated to teach you everything you need to know about this game if that's all that's on the table."

Graham hopes his age and best Academy instructor manner gives his bluff some credibility: he's played basketball, but he's by no means an expert, and he assumes Collins has picked it because it's a favorite sport of hers.

Collins is aware Graham is testing the waters with his opening moves. But she's never fallen prey to head games. "Don't hold back, Ensign [this she says with playful emphasis]. My great grandfather played for the Boston Celtics. It's in my blood."

Graham's a bit taken aback. "Boston, eh?" He smiles authentically. "You might not be so bad after all...for an officer." With that he lowers his right shoulder but drives left, hoping to angle around her close enough but create enough space to put a left-handed layup in the net.

Collins starts to move left but springs to the right, not in time to prevent his shot, but enough to throw off his aim so that he misses. She recovers the ball and takes it to the top of the key.

Crap, Graham thinks, if she has a good outside shot I'm screwed. "Where've you been assigned, before this?" Graham asks, throwing a few jabs toward the ball while he talks.

She starts to drive towards the basket sideways, with her back towards Graham. "I was on Starbase 11 for two years, then a year on the Enterprise before being assigned here." About two yards from the basket she starts to go right but as the ball comes back up to her hand, in one swift move, she grabs it, jumps up and spins to face the basket and shoots - and it's good. She smiles proudly. "I lost some friends while on the Enterprise." She states plainly, remembering how many Security personnel did not return from missions.

Graham collects the ball and takes it back outside, dribbling methodically. He nods. "I know what it is to lose friends." And more than friends, he thinks, before putting that out of his mind. "When I was grounded...I mean, ah...privileged to be teaching at the Academy...every fresh-faced kid wanted to serve on the Enterprise. Far be it from the likes of me to criticize--Kirk got the job done--but some of us old-school Security instructors used to call him James T. 'K-I-A.'"

He starts to back up against Collins, pushing her back--not enough to be called a foul, but exerting some pressure, to see how she'll react. Push back? Yield? Fist in the kidneys? All interesting responses, albeit some more painful than others...

Collins matches Graham move for move, again making it difficult for him to shoot. "I never went on any missions while I was aboard the Enterprise," Collins says, only slightly out of breath. "I spent most of my tour on patrol duty." With her lower peripheral vision, she watches Graham's feet trying to gauge when he was ready to take aim - her intent to jump when he does and block the shot.

Graham makes the shot, tying the score. The game goes on for another twenty minutes with the lead going back and forth, but finally in Collins' favor. After she makes the last basket, she turns to see Graham bent forward, his hands on his knees, panting, but happy. He straightens up, double-times it over to the towel bin near the entrance to the locker rooms, and grabs two. He meets Collins as she walks in that direction, and hands one to her before wiping his own forehead. "Congrats, L-T. I'd say next time would go down differently, but I think the fact is you're pretty damn good at basketball."

After a moment's pause he adds, "Do you know Ens. Kylah well?"

Collins looks at him quizzically. "A little young for you, no?" She smiles and winks. "She's my roommate, but I can't say I know her that well. She's a competent junior officer, but she doesn't seem to trust anyone very much. Except maybe Dr. T'Var. You'd get more from the good doctor than from me." She starts towards the locker room, then turns. "Why?"

"Ah, yeah, she's about my daughter's age..." Graham says, then chides himself: Collins probably doesn't care. And even if you were asking about that, there's no Federation law against chasing younger women...focus, Booker. "Things got a little weird between her and some lieutenant named Ferguson while I was on patrol. Nothing big enough to file a report about, but when weird things happen on my beat, I like to figure out what's going on. She clearly didn't want to talk about it...but the doc seems solid; that's a good lead."

"Just put it your daily log. Never hurts to have a record of it, just in case." Collins throws the used towel in the hamper. "I'll see you in the morning. Thanks for the game." She decides to shower back in her quarters and goes into the locker room to grab her things.

Graham wanders over to a heavy bag and throws a few punches, lightly at first, then with more conviction. The game was a good workout--but didn't provide quite the same outlet as hitting something. Or having a drink, he thinks, a little ruefully. He's not sure why he mentioned his daughter to Collins, but having thought of her his mood has darkened. He's self-aware enough to know why: part of him wants to call her, part of him feels he has no right to intrude on her life. Missions usually created permission in his mind: after all, I'm sure she hates me, but I think she'd still want to know if I was going on a mission from which I might not come back. But what would I say about this one? "Lizzy, I'm going on a mission, and I might get...massaged."

He throws a volley of all-out punches targeted at where the half-dozen most damaging points on an Orion's anatomy would be if the bag were a greenie, and then stops, breathing heavily. Maybe T'Var does have some of that brandy, he wonders. And I've got to go get my shot anyway...and ask about Kylah if I have the opportunity. He heads to his quarters to shower quickly and change into off-duty clothes.

Rangin can guess at what he has to done to make her feel insecure, with the flush and crossing of arms just making him inwardly kick himself all the more. He is just about to tell Kylah that he hopes it wasn't serious and to get well soon, when she blurts out about the presentation and then hurries off to see Dr T'Var.

Obviously something medical is wrong with her, little else makes sense, but hopefully she will be fine by the morning and anything longer-term under control.

He wanders back to his quarters and picks up Kylah's message. He drops one back about finally picking up her message, don't worry about it, we can do poker lessons later, hopes she gets better and hopefully see her in the morning.

He changes into something more relaxing and heads to sickbay for the shot. Once he has done that he will be off to one of the rec rooms to see if anyone wants a game of chess or two. He hasn't played for a while and is feeling rusty, and he could do with the mental stimulation.

After her shower, Collins dresses and heads to Sick Bay for her shot. As she walks, she battles with her inner self. What the hell was that this afternoon? What? I just wanted some. No! There's a mission! Never right before a mission! Well, maybe right after. I could ask for a couple of days off? No! This is why I was only ever on patrol last posting! Collins shakes her head and picks up her pace.

Kylah asks T'Var if they might meet after the anti-radiation shots are given out. Once they've arranged for her to visit T'Var's quarters, Kylah leaves and suddenly realizes how hungry she is. With no time for breakfast and no appetite for lunch, Kylah hasn't eaten a thing today.

She hesitates before deciding to go to the mess hall. Well, there's no choice, is there? She knows she can't starve herself just because she's paranoid about one small incident from this morning having made the gossip mill rounds of the ship. Admittedly the greater fear is of seeing Mark Ferguson's smug face again.

In her own quarters she splashes some water on her face, girds herself, and once she's waited long enough she heads to the mess for dinner. She just wishes she weren't entering--and dining--alone. Kylah hastens to take her meal tray to an empty table and does her best to focus all attention on the food. Her best, however, is not good enough, and her gaze shifts surreptitiously in desperate hopes of not seeing Ferguson anywhere in the vicinity. The ship is huge, the likelihood is small. But the mere possibility is enough to make her uneasy.

Graham sees Mahmoud in their quarters. The Libyan man is reading something on the Library Computer terminal's screen.

Rangin gets his shot from Dr. Villa. He finds no takers in the rec room for a chess game, unfortunately.

Collins comes in for her shot, which Dr. Villa also administers, a few minutes after Rangin has left.

Kylah sees no sign of Lt. JG Ferguson. There are about two dozen other people in the Mess Hall, none of whom she knows well.

Collins reflexively rubs her arm, even though the hypospray didn't hurt. She's just always done that since her first needle shot as a child. She thanks the doctor and heads to the Mess for some dinner.

"Still into the teen romance novels, Faisal?" Graham jokes, seeing his roommate reading.

Relieved, Kylah quickly finishes what she can bear of the meal and leaves the Mess in a hurry.

She goes straight to Dr. Villa to get her anti-rad shot. Once that's done with, she will wait until the appointed time* to visit Dr. T'Var.

* whenever that is

Collins sees Cmdr. Vargas having dinner alone in the Mess Hall to which she goes. He has a data tablet in hand, and nods to her. There are perhaps three dozen other people in the room, a few of whom she knows.

"Funny guy," Mahmoud says to Graham, who can see the front page of The Solar Post on the screen. Mahmoud is apparently catching up on the news from Earth.

Kylah's shot is administered by Dr. Bucci, as Dr. Villa is attending to another patient at the time.

Earth, Graham thinks. Elizabeth's on Earth.

It's a long way away, he thinks, then: better that way, it's a place where her father's mistakes won't get her... He shakes his head. What the hell's wrong with you Booker? You're on mission tomorrow.

A plan crystallizes. It's a stupid plan, he thinks. But better than nothing. He grabs something from his cabin and puts it in a shoulder bag, then head to Sickbay to get his shot.

As Kylah waits for her shot to be administered, she looks at Dr. Bucci, with whom she's had little contact with whom she's boarded the ship. To make conversation, she says, "May I ask, Dr. Bucci: how is Lt. Fujishiro doing?"

Collins acknowledges Vargas' greeting, then chooses an empty table so she can eat in peace.

The plump Italian doctor frowns and says, "We're really not supposed to discuss other patients' medical conditions, but... no change, I'm afraid." He picks up a hypospray, fits it with a vial of medicine and then stops. "Dr. Villa told me you'd expressed some concern about the ARB shots in the mission briefing. Do you have any other questions, Ensign? Informed consent is key."

Kylah sees Graham enter Sickbay and pause in the doorway.

Collins eats her dinner alone. A loud, boisterous group of Science techs leaves the Mess Hall as she is finishing.

Collins busses her tray and leaves the Mess. She decides to check out the rec room just to see who's there.

Rangin isn't too fussed by the lack of takers for chess, so he starts playing against the computer on an easier level than usual to practice against. He will probably have some food later.

Distracted for a moment with thoughts of Fujishiro, Kylah is a bit taken aback by Bucci's question about the ARB. She wonders how he learned about her alleged reservations about the shots, then realizes it was likely through Villa.

Now a movement in the doorway catches her attention and there's Ens. Graham. A sense of claustrophobia begins to set in. Is my entire day to be haunted by him?

Her focus returns to Bucci. "My concerns were answered by Dr. Villa, thank you," she says tightly. "As you say, being informed is important. I do wish we knew in advance how those exposed to the spores are currently being decontaminated. It seems worrisome to bring a Starfleet admiral to have this treatment while we know so little about it."

Graham holds up abruptly after almost barging in on Ens. Kylah and one of the medical staff. He can't hear what they are saying, but the doc--he's not sure of his name--is frowning, and Kylah doesn't look too happy.

This piques his interest given the day's events, but if there's a reason she needs medical attention the last thing he wants to do is interfere with that.

"Ah, hi, Ensign. Kylah. Ensign Kylah. Sorry to barge in. I can come back later if you're discussing something serious." He shakes his head and raises a hand. "Not that it has to be serious for me to leave you two some privacy." He looks at the doctor. "Actually, if you could point me to--is Dr. T'Var in?"

Collins arrives at Rec Room 3 and see several people there, including Rangin, who is playing chess against the computer.

"Maybe the admiral knows more than we do," Dr. Bucci tells Kylah unconcernedly. He gives her the shot, then turns to Graham. "No apology necessary - we're done. Dr. T'Var is off-duty, I'm afraid. What can I do for you?"

Having the shot administered doesn't even register with Kylah--she's too shocked that Graham is now seemingly even anticipating her movements: seeking out T'Var as if he knows she had plans with the doctor herself! Perhaps he overheard her asking T'Var for an appointment tonight. It's utterly irrational but this day has been one of wildly swinging emotions and Kylah is far too exhausted and on edge to let reason rule her behavior.

She doesn't even thank Bucci for the ARB, but instead walks up to meet Graham in the doorframe, ignoring the vast difference in their heights and staring up at him with eyes glaring with accusation. "I am disappointed, Mr. Graham," she mutters icily. "I thought you were doing me a kindness by accompanying me to the Turbolift this morning. Now I begin to think otherwise. Are you following me? Dogging my every step? I have an appointment with Dr. T'Var, as I suspect you know, and you are certainly right that my health is none of your business. I suppose you believe what--what was said earlier about me? That I am some sort of menace who must be tracked?" Kylah lowers her voice further. " I very much resent it. I do not wish to be treated like a prime suspect or an unruly child."

Dr. Bucci puts down the hypospray with a frown. He was not close enough to hear what Kylah said, but noticed how she strode up to Graham, and her less-than-friendly expression. "Is there a problem?" he asks.

Collins walks over to Rangin. "How about a human opponent?" She asks before she sits down.

Rangin looks up from his winning position against the computer. "You know, I don't believe I have had the pleasure of playing you before."

He quickly sets up the board and offers Collins the choice of colour.

As she makes her choice, Rangin enquires politely, "Looking forward to the mission tomorrow?"

Collins chooses black. As they set up the board, she answers "Yes and no. It seems like an easy gig, but that's when things go wrong like crazy."

T'Var spends her off duty time deep in meditation. She allows her mind to wander from thought to thought....

The doctor is concerned about Kylah's emotional state and how best to help her before this new mission begins. T'Var is also curious about Graham. He is unique -- as most humans are. T'Var looks forward to learning more about him. And what of Collins? Will she rise to the occasion as mission leader or falter?

T'Var clears her mind of these thoughts and returns her focus to the small lit candle in front of her. She follows the movement of the flame. She breathes deeply in and out. She finds her center....

Graham's first instinct is to try and deflect her accusation with humor: I was just looking for a drinking buddy, he thinks. But that wouldn't be accurate, he concedes: in fact, I was looking for an excuse to drink.

He's seen a stare like that before, looking up at him: more than ten years ago, a precocious twelve-year old telling him he was all wrong, he didn't know anything, and he was a tyrant and an ogre to boot. And then later, more quietly but just as insistently, his wife explaining that young girl was right, and that he would have to relent and allow their daughter to go on her first date. "The only thing Lizzy has wrong," Jane had said in her most professorial tone, "Is that you're not at like an ogre. Much more like a troll: less a club-wielding marauder, more a sinewy loner who likes to lurk under bridges gnawing old bones."

He can't remember his daughter smiling wider before or since than when he marched--grimly--back downstairs--but then told her he'd changed his mind. The hug lasted only a second before she ran off to tell her best friend and call some boy, but it is an ineffable, unparalleled memory of happiness, tinged only a little but with the loss he felt at that moment of a childhood that had so quickly passed.

The same words come to mind now as then: "No," Graham says softly and a little distantly. "Not a child. Not anymore."

He gives Kylah a little smile and nods, sliding out of the doorway toward the doctor so he's not in the way if she wants to leave.

He hitches up his sleeve. "I hope not, doctor," he says in quiet voice. Then a little more quickly and firmly: "But I hope you can make this quick, I realize there's something important I need to do this evening."

"Make what quick?" the doctor asks. He looks from Graham to Kylah, then back again. "Ah! Are you here for an ARB shot, too?"

Kylah backs away, her anger skittering around her chest as if it's looking for something to grab onto. She doesn't understand what Graham meant--not a child, not anymore--but she certainly recognizes his attempt at pacifying her. It was almost paternal. Or what she remembers of a true father figure, anyway. She hasn't had much luck with those. They always wanted something she could not, or would not, provide.

Turning around without acknowledging Graham's comment, she hurries down the corridor. And soon finds herself in front of T'Var's door for their appointment.

Graham sees Kylah leaving out of the corner of his eye. "Right," he answers, "some might say being bombarded with radiation that kills all animal cells couldn't make me look any worse, doc, but I figure I won't take any chances."

Rangin starts with his usual pawn opening. "Who knows, but I'm looking forward to it. Congrats on getting to run the next one, though."

"Thanks." Collins looks up from the board after making her move. "What would you have done differently?"

"You must be Ens. Graham, then," Dr. Bucci says. "Welcome aboard. Here you go...." He checks the hypospray, administers the shot and then excuses himself to speak to an orderly.

Several more people enter Rec Room 3, including Pourtash. There are now about a dozen people there. Two Communications techs begin playing Go, and a group of Engineering crewmates set up an Altairian backgammon board.

Graham leaves Sickbay with a sense of purpose.He secures a datapad, and so as not to disturb Faisal (who he last saw in their room) decides to head to one of the ship's common areas. Given Kylah's earlier reaction to seeing him, he decides Rec Room 3 is a safe bet--he suspects it is unlikely he'll accidentally run into her there. As he enters he notices Lt. "Larry Bird" Collins and Science Guy playing a game together--he nods toward them before taking a seat in as quiet and isolated a spot he can find.

Although he can't quite bring himself to relate the story that came to mind earlier, he starts dictating a letter. "Hi, Lizzy. It's...me. A lot of the time I send you messages when I arrive somewhere that you're most likely to have heard about because of a crime or a battle. Not this time. You'll never guess what the planet we're beaming down to tomorrow is famous for..."

While he talks, he pulls up information about Omicron Ceti III and weaves particularly interesting bits into his letter.

"Not stood by the door", says Rangin with a grin as he ponders his next move, "perhaps held on to my dignity for a little longer while being treated as a Sakathian buffet."

He makes his move and continues speaking.

"Seriously, there probably wasn't much we could have done differently. Have someone on the shuttle, no transporter. Hunker down and wait it out, we'd never have made it. Could we have acted better given the circumstances, well, that call is above my rank, but probably yes."

Kylah presses the panel outside T'Var's door again, impatient to talk to the doctor before she must study for the mission. She knows T'Var can't solve her problems or teach her every control method the Vulcan knows, but having even some ability to calm herself and take command of her emotions--and block others' out--would be a tremendous relief.

She waits and wonders if T'Var might have been called elsewhere, even though that other doctor--Bucci, was that it?--said she was already off-duty.

Pourtash ambles over and greets Collins and Rangin. "Altairian backgammon was never really my thing. Mind if I watch?"

Lt. JG Cecilia Bennett enters Rec Room 3, a datapad in hand. She looks around, sees Graham and smiles.

Seeing Bennett enter and smile in his direction, Graham is pleasantly surprised: much moreso by the smile than by her simply happening by Rec Room 3. He pauses his dictation; seeing she has a datapad, he waves his own datapad at her and then gestures gamely toward an empty chair at his table.

"Feel Free", replies Rangin, "We've only just begun."

T'Var answers the door and gestures for Kylah to come inside.

"I would like to know how you are feeling at the moment," she says. "Then, perhaps, I can assist you in the best possible way with the limited time we have."

Collins smiles at Pourtash as he sits down. "We were discussing the Sakathian mission," she says as she takes her turn, then looks at Rangin "The first thing I would have done differently is held on to my phaser. I'd still like to know what the Sakathians were trying to accomplish and why it went so wrong."

Bennett walks over to Graham and takes the proferred seat. "Hello, Ens... oh, may I just call you Booker? We're both off-duty; you're welcome to call me Cecilia, by the way."

Pourtash also sits. "The Sakathians wanted to change themselves," he says, scratching one ear. "To become more than - different from - what they are. They did it in a very dangerous way. We learned our lesson back in the Eugenics Wars; maybe they'll learn from this, too."

Kylah enters and thanks Dr. T'Var for seeing her. But she's taken aback by the sudden question; she wasn't expecting it.

"How am I feeling now," she says slowly. Her eyes scan the room as if trying to find the words to describe what's going on inside her. "Overwhelmed." The word is an exhale, and she rubs her cold hands together before crossing her arms over her chest. "Like a bottle of liquids that do not mix well together--and if jostled too much the container will explode. There is too much going on within me, today in particular, and I--I fear going on a mission in such a state. Especially with these particular crew members," Kylah adds bitterly.

“Of course ma’am—I mean, Cecilia,” Graham answers.

“So, ah,” he says, setting his pad down, leaning forward on one elbow and adopting his best sultry voice, “what brings a nice girl like you to a heavy cruiser like this?” He sits back and grins a little. “Actually,” he says, gesturing at her datapad and using his normal speaking voice, “Believe it or not—if you have some work to do I really can sit here quietly, sharing the table and not bothering you.”

Bennett smiles; Graham really does find her quite dazzling. "I don't have any work to do at the moment, but I do have some good news." She hands him her datapad, which is showing a message from Starfleet Personnel. The timecode indicates it arrived ten minutes ago:

PROMOTIONS APPROVED - USS YORKTOWN, NCC-1717:

BENNETT, Cecilia E., Navigator - promoted to Lieutenant
CHEVEREZ, Edgardo, Chief Engineer - promoted to Lieutenant Commander
GRAL, NFN, Botanist - promoted to Lieutenant
GUZMAN, Luisa, Relief Navigator - promoted to Lieutenant (Junior Grade)
RUSSELL, Josiah F., Security officer - promoted to Ensign

"It would have been nice if we knew that going in." Collins half mumbles as she studies the chess board

Graham nods slowly. “You know, there’s an old saying, ‘virtue is its own reward.’” He leans down and removes the item he took from his room earlier from the shoulder bag. “Of course, me, I think that’s total BS,” he adds.

He puts the bottle on the table. “But—less than an hour ago, I was looking for an excuse to open this—and drink too much of it. Then I got bawled out just for trying to do my job, and that snapped me out of it. And now…” He gives her datapad a little tap. “Here’s a perfect reason to share a toast. A reasonable, normal-sized toast. It’s from Springbank, single malt, West Coast of Scotland. Made by hand, no replicators or robotics or anything." He pauses for a second. "That is, if you want to, of course..Cecilia. Lieutenant Cecilia."

"I would be delighted," she says, chuckling. "Let me get a pair of glasses."

Graham is ready to pour when Bennett returns with glasses. He hesitates, bottle at a forty-five degree angle. "Hold on...what's the "e" for...as in Bennett, Cecilia,'E'?"

"They didn't want to be different," responds Rangin to Pourtash while waiting for the next move. "Those in power wanted control and found someone willing to try something unusual to give it to them. That's what it comes down to in the end, power. If they wanted to change for the better, they would not have been hiding it. I wonder what will happen to Dr Waite?"

"Oh, what fun would it be if I just told you?" Bennett asks, her eyes dancing. "You'll have to guess. Now pour, please."

Pourtash says, "That was part of it, sure, but I think it was mostly about changing themselves, transforming themselves, becoming a new culture. That's always risky."