Star Trek RPG - Mission #6: "Marala"

[choie]

Encouraged, Kylah quickly confirms to Lt. Onn that her superior officer believes her strategy is feasible. Then she works harder to establish a comm link with the probe, which will enable Sasok and Tsu to send commands to the probe. Little use in moving forward with the sensor transformation plan if the probe cannot be returned to its original course.

She is very aware of the passing time and increasing pressure. The crew is waiting on her, and the longer she takes, the more annoyed Lt. Onn and the others will be. Her teeth clamp on her lower lip as she attempts to connect with the probe.

[SidonianGal]

Nia folds her arms across her chest and, after watching the Elasian ensign for a pointless moment, she turns back to Antonov.

"Any luck in searching for a ship that might be near enough over the next few months to corral this rogue probe? Just on the off-chance we can't take control of 42 ourselves," she adds smoothly, much as Booker did earlier.

She happens to be positioned pretty close to Booker right now. It's difficult not to meet his gaze, and his physical presence is almost tangible. She can't understand what happened to make him flee this morning.

Surely he feels what she does... right? Nia's always done her best to avoid overestimating a man's attraction to her--it's a waste of time and energy. But attraction isn't everything, she admits. Could be all sorts of reasons, emotional or intellectual, that Booker might've changed his mind and taken sex off the menu, so to speak.

Ugh. Stop focusing on this. Life goes on. Her lips tighten into a meaningless smile as she waits for Antonov's response.

[Elendil's Heir]

Antonov stands and holds his hands behind his back. "There are no other Starfleet vessels scheduled to pass by here at any time, ma'am. We could suggest a mission assignment to Starfleet Command, if necessary. Other civilian ships come out here from time to time, but only somewhat rarely. The monthly commercial ore-carrier run is the only regularly-scheduled shipping of any kind out to Novy Rostov."

After another few minutes, Kylah is able, with difficulty, to piggyback a signal onto the probe's scanning beam and link up with its onboard computer. Sasok, with her help, is able to gain remote access to its command functions.

[general_urko]

Graham surveys the scene. He looks with appreciation of her confidence, and them...can't help but notice her arms folded across a chest he's seen bare and beautiful, and then...

For a moment, he arms holding herself seem neither confident nor sexy along, but also expressing some vulnerability...

It's tough to be in the big chair, you idiot. For anyone.

Graham takes a side-step closer to Nia. Mostly unconsciously, he spreads his legs just slightly apart in parade rest, lets his shoulders fall and his chest expand. Autonomic responses kick in: this is the stance you take as senior Security officer on the bridge. Not arrorgance, but a promise: Captain, we will carry out the mission. If we fail, we'll be dead. But we knew that was the deal when we signed up. So we're all in.

"My money's on Mr. Kylah and the team, ma'am," Graham says glancing first at Nia and hoping to catch her eye. "I believe they'll get it done," he adds quietly.

He resists -- with difficulty -- the urge to reach out to take her hand....

"I'M GOING FAST!"

Lizzy's at the wheel of the antique Boston Whaler belonging to Jane's parents, all elbow angles and gap-toothed smile of a young girl.

Jane smiles but nearly loses her footing, and Graham instinctively reachers out to steady her: easily able to bear her whole weight with one arm, but failing that, committed to diving below her and breaking her fall.

"Remember about steering into the waves, Lizzy," Graham says, smiling at his wife as their daughter turns with a nod and a look of grim determination.

"I KNOW DAD," she calls over her shoulder.

She's so smart, like her mother, Graham, thinks...

And Jane smiles, Jane....Jane...disintegrates into memory...

Nia...

He thinks her name, but remains silent.

[anthonydlangford]

Top secret facility? Redacted or removed notes? Those terms made Nathaniel nervous and uneasy. There is many things he hated about Starfleet, and it's penchant for keeping secrets is one of them. Nathaniel's own experience is that those secrets were in concept intended to help people, but somehow managed to to hurt them. In fact, he is pretty certain that secrets Starfleet is keeping had affected his own life. And his desire to uncover secrets being kept from him is why he was on this damn ship to begin with. Now he is wondering if there were details of this virus that were being kept hidden -- and why they were being kept that way.

"Of course I would rather treat a problem before it happens." Nathaniel answers. "Unfortunately medicine usually doesn't work that way like with the accident that brought you here. But if there is a way to prevent any other incidents, of course I'd like to find them. I really don't like my patients dying. Doesn't look good on the resume, you know? I'm curious about this facility you spoke of. What can you tell me about it?"

[SidonianGal]

Bad news about the lack of back-up rescues for the probe, but Nia just bobs her head in appreciation for Antonov's efforts. Still, she's disappointed. Great. That leaves Kylah and her so-called 'unorthodox' plan.

About to address the communications officer, she senses--and then notices--Booker changing his stance, making it more formal. Wider. Somehow his frame, which is pretty sturdy already, seems to have grown broader in the process.

He mentions both Kylah and the team, but what's most immediately evident is that--either unconsciously or intentionally--Booker has created a physical barrier between her and Kylah. Like he's the girl's own private security detail. And like I'm some danger to the kid.

For an instant Nia's eyebrows lower, not quite scowling, but pretty damn close. Then she forces a chuckle. "Your confidence is noted, Lieutenant," she says lightly. "And I'm sure Ensign Kylah both appreciates and deserves it." Stepping around the man-mountain (at least, muscle-wise--Booker's barely taller than Nia is), she focuses on the Elasian. "Nice work on getting the link up. While Tsu works on rerouting the nav system, you do... whatever it is you need to. Carefully."

Nia turns again and accidentally-on-purpose lets her body, more specifically her chest, brush up against Booker's well-muscled arm. Her gaze flicks upwards slightly to meet his. Just what the fuck is going on with you and her? she wants to demand. And more important, why isn't something going on with us?

But she doesn't pause mid-step, letting the brief physical connection seem incidental, and returns to her chair. Truth is, Sasok and Antonov--and obviously Booker--may have all the confidence in the world for this untried flake of a girl; someone who, only a few short months ago, was a mere cadet. But Nia wants confirmation from Thalen himself. And maybe not even just him. Trouble is, as professional as the Andorian is, he's too easy-going. Great at his job and a sweetheart of a guy, but maybe that's just his problem.

She flips open her communicator and taps out a fast message to both Lt. Thalen and Cmdr. Roble. First she lays out the basic issue to fill Roble in, adds a very brief sketch of what Kylah seems to be planning, and then gets to the meat of her question.

Mr. Thalen, please share the details of Ens. Kylah's strategy with Cmdr. Roble. I ask you both: while this is no doubt an imaginative idea on her part, on a project this ambitious, are you certain this particular officer wouldn't be better suited to some supervision by--or at least partnership with--a senior Comm. Officer? If so, I'd like to request one.

Nia sends the message off. She feels a little traitorous, especially with Kylah only a couple of meters away and her knight in red-suited armor even closer by. But screw it. This is Nia's Bridge, at least for now, and she's not playing around with the mini-mission at hand by letting some angst-ridden amateur mess up some expensive and valuable scientific equipment.

"Give me status reports at each stage, people. I mean Tsu, Sasok and Kylah. I'd like to hear how you're progressing, assuming you do."

[general_urko]

Graham feels Nia's body brush against him, and shifts his gaze to meet hers, a slight smile starting to crease his lips at her response to his support, and...

She seems...mad...?

Not sure what to make of that he clears his throat and, after she moves away, returns to his station.

[choie]

Kylah comes as close as she ever does to grinning--which for her means a non-bashful smile--when she manages to forge a link between the Yorktown and the probe. Lt. Graham's support bolsters her as well. A good start to her work.

Lt. Onn's words are much less fulsome, but at least she no longer sounds so impatient. Kylah cannot see her very well, and the BCDO is too near Lt. Graham for Kylah to pick out her emotions as before. In fact, the older woman is... well, unusually close to Lt. Graham. Kylah's head tilts in puzzlement before she shrugs and hurriedly returns to the task at hand.

Now that she has unfettered access to the probe's comm system--Thank you, Mr. Sasok--she examines her monitor's display of the official Surveyor-type probe schematics to make sure she can indeed identify the various components.

Before she can address the possibility of recalibrating some of the sensors' subroutines, Kylah needs to identify the precise problem with the communications system. She hopes to confirm Lt. Antonov's initial diagnosis: something external, but not the subspace antenna itself. If the antenna is damaged after all, the plan will have been foiled before she has even begun.

Kylah starts by remotely accessing the probe's comm panel, attempting to send a basic signal via the subspace relay emitter. While doing so, she runs a simultaneous diagnostic to measure the output and see where along the line the signal dies.

If she is lucky and the antenna is indeed intact--in other words, the signal dies before it even reaches the antenna--she will identify the problem area and work around it. Her basic questions will be:

1. Which is the most powerful working sensor? The Yorktown, of course, has a duotronic subspace sensor array, a tower of several massive sensors--but 42, as Lt. Onn calls it, is a tiny probe, not a Constitution-class ship. Kylah is searching for the most powerful, longest-range sensor that is still working. If none of the sensors are powerful enough by themselves, she will have to slave them together to form a jerry-rigged sensor array.

2. Can she add a new subroutine that takes the signal from this powerful sensor--the sensor beam--and send it through the comm panel's subprocessor ?

3. Finally, and most tricky of all: can she manage to reprogram the sensor beam from a single, steady input to a dual-phase, pulsing transponder: one that alternates between receiving signals and transmitting them?

Taking a moment to straighten her posture, making sure all her muscles are stretched, Kylah settles back for the challenge.

[Elendil's Heir]

Lt. Cmdr. Abdi Roble, the Yorktown's Science Officer, soon responds to Onn in a text: It's a damn clever proposal and worth a try, I think, Lieutenant. I have no opinion as to whether another Communications officer might be better suited to carrying it out. I will say, as a rule, that I'm inclined to give junior officers the chance to learn on the job and improve their skills, especially when they've come up with a good idea. ROBLE.

A few seconds later Thalen texts: I concur, but will come to the Bridge at once if you wish, Mr. Onn. THALEN.

Tsu reports, "Steady as she goes at Warp 5. Maintaining course and speed, ma'am. No change in either by the probe."

Sasok, standing at Kylah's shoulder, says to her, "I suggest we use the dorsal sensor array at this distance, at one-twentieth power to start, at least, with a resonance setting of 411.23 fps and a subspace tuning of," he checks a datapad, "0.34442 millicochranes."

Kylah is soon able to create and add a new subroutine to carry the signal through the subprocessor. Reprogramming the sensor beam will be trickier but she thinks she's up to it. Sasok seems friendly and helpful, for a Vulcan, and is clearly willing to help, too.

[SidonianGal]

Reading the responses from Roble and Thalen, Nia leans back in her chair. A minuscule amount of pressure from her right leg swivels her just enough to see a cloud of dark curly hair, which aside from a hint of her red uniform is all she can view of Kylah, and Mr. Sasok's larger figure standing by her.

She eyes her communicator again. Crap. Roble's advice is solid, of course. Under most circumstances Nia wouldn't be second-guessing her crew-mates like this. Honestly if the crew-mate in question were anyone but the biggest frickin' trouble-magnet and emotional shuttle-wreck Nia's ever served with, she doubts she'd have ever sent those messages.

But this is the Yorktown's resident trouble-magnet and emotional shuttle-wreck. Like it or not.

Nia tries to catch a glimpse of Sasok's face. Okay, good... he seems untroubled, at least that's something. Then she mentally rolls her eyes. Brilliant call, genius, what the hell else would a Vulcan look like? He'd seem untroubled if the probe was gonna explode.

Pulling her lips inward so they're practically a straight line, Nia shifts forward and stares at the starfield ahead of her. This girl's about ten years younger than Nia; probably twenty years younger, if you measure by life and work experience. And yet...

For a long time, Nia's father refused to let her go solo in their airship. You're only fourteen, you're not near ready, he'd said to her. And to her mother: She's ovulating and due for another implantation. I'm not willing to risk a steep fine if she can't make good on the contract, and that's assuming she somehow manages not to kill herself!

But her mother backed Nia, in that steady, gentle but firm way of hers. Even though as a man her father had the right to deny Nia just about anything, he finally, reluctantly, let her take Cloudbreaker 3 for its trial launch. Both Nia and the ship succeeded. And she's never, ever forgotten that triumph, or stopped blessing her parents for trusting her.

She sighs. Fuck it. It's just a probe. Not even ours. And it's broken either way--she can't make it worse.

Hopefully.

Nia cradles the communicator and types again. She quickly thanks Lt. Cmdr. Roble for his guidance, and asks his permission to pass along his compliment to Kylah. To Thalen, she writes separately:

THALEN, LT - Things going smoothly so far. Wouldn't object to a casual visit if whatever she's doing is worth a look. Otherwise... maybe just stand ready in case things go pear-shaped?

She sends the note and sets the device on her chair arm. "Very good, Mr. Tsu," she says lightly, "Maintain everything as it stands now, unless--until Ensign Kylah repairs the probe's transmitter. At that point, now that you're in, I suppose you won't have any trouble correcting 42's trajectory to its original course?"

[choie]

Kylah lifts her face up to smile gratefully at Mr. Sasok. His very nature relaxes her--she has always felt most comfortable around Vulcans--but his assistance and encouragement are particularly appreciated.

"One of my biggest concerns," she says quietly, "is overworking the emitter. The process of switching from an active long-range scan to a passive--which it will need in order to locate the nearest Starfleet subspace relay beacon--requires a great deal of energy. We will need to significantly boost its output during the transmission phase."

She returns to focus on the specs on her secondary monitor. "I believe we will gain some power if we disengage the sensor masking circuit. That could be... potentially harmful. But the risk might be worth it. Perhaps this is a Security question..."

Twisting in her chair, Kylah seeks out Lt. Graham again. "Excuse me, sir?" She hurriedly explains the need for more power, and the idea of eliminating the currently functioning sensor mask. After a slight hesitation during which she wonders if adding too much more explanation will seem condescending, she continues carefully:

"Of course, my worry is that without a mask, the probe's scans will be more visible to anyone looking out for such intrusions. This might seem like a hostile act. The probe could be destroyed, or worse, incite a more aggressive response. And yet we must have the extra power to transmit. Do you believe this is an acceptable risk, sir?"

[general_urko]

Kylah's explanation is mostly a lot of technobabble to Graham but the main point that a boosted signal might trigger threat sensors makes sense.

He glances at Kawecki to acknowledge that he knows another Security officer is duty on the bridge, then back to Kylah. "Since we're pretty clear the probe's been damaged, not nefariously modified, any risk is squarely on the probe. We can take it out if it displays threatening behavior. And since we may need to destroy or disable it if we can't correct its course anyway..." He pauses. "From a Security standpoint, the balance of risk isn't an obstacle. But of course this is the command officer's decision," he says, looking deliberately at Nia.

(And, for some hoping with an undercurrent of anxiousness she's not angry at him for some reason...)

[Rangin]

Rangin looks up at the Doctor with a certain amount of surprise mixed in with a feeling of healthy scepticism. "Okay," Rangin's response is slightly drawn out, "so sometimes prevention is better than a cure. Good to hear."

He's not certain as to whether he is being humoured or if he is being spoken to honestly and in his current state he probably couldn't tell either way. He's not even sure if he should be telling the doctor given everything that happened, but it may be another way to help determine what is going on.

He sits back against the pillows, takes a deep breath and starts to recall what happened.

"We carried out a mission not that long ago to assist the Sakathian's with some medical supplies and expertise. We were shipping some creatures to them for some testing, ethically before you say anything, at least that was what I remember. In reality, it looks like they were testing a new form of virus, if not a certain amount of biological warfare."

Rangin keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the Doctor waiting to see what his reaction is, but continues to speak, trying to get the words out before his memories of the place become too horrific and start to give him waking nightmares. He can already feel a chill down his spine and his legs begin to fidget on the sheets as they instinctively move to try and get away.

"Something went wrong, the experiments got loose and the place went into shutdown. We were lucky enough to escape with our lives, although the Sakathians made sure that we didn't take anything linked to it away. I was infected with the virus along with a colleague, Fujishiro. She died, I didn't."

Rangin feels himself grinding his teeth, trying to force the words out as he remembers back to the cramped shuttle and arguing with T'Var about trying to save her life.

"Since then, it appears to have had some other side effects, but I wouldn't even begin to guess at what they were and I've never had a doctor give me a truly honest answer about it, at least not that I am aware of."

Rangin leans back in the bed tired form the effort of trying to remember what happened and the emotional drain of remembering Fujishiro. "If you are looking for something further, check the ship's logs, maybe talk to T'Var, that will get you started."

[SidonianGal]

After the exchange between Kylah and Booker, Nia holds a finger up at Tsu, temporarily forestalling the navigator's answer to Nia's earlier question. Then she turns to face the others.

"I don't think Ensign Kylah's worried about danger to the Yorktown from the probe," she says with a questioning glance at the young woman. "It's a matter of revealing Federation activity to people who might not know about us."

Nia's not sure how familiar security officers are with the ins and outs of sensor mechanics--something she understands plenty from her engineering background. "Sensor masks are added to hide scanning activity from whoever it's targeting. Since the probe's in uncharted territory, that might include civilizations or vessels that we haven't had First Contact with.

"If they find out they're being spied on, they might respond defensively. Destroying the probe is the least worry. The bigger danger is that this'll trigger a paranoid, xenophobic reaction. They'll look on any approaching vessel as hostile. Or worse, start a proactive hunt to keep their borders safe."

Her own words strike her, and Nia can't help her tone from including a hint of tartness as she watches Booker. "So Ensign Kylah's offering you a choice, Lieutenant. And you too, Lt. Kawecki," she adds without breaking her gaze from Booker's.

"Do we keep the mask in place, hindering our efforts to get to know others but staying safe and secure? Or do we drop it and accept the risk of getting hurt in favor of a much more powerful, rewarding experience?"

Nia's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes as she turns to Kylah. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Ensign, but that's it in a nutshell, right?"

[choie]

Kylah's mouth parts, but she says nothing at first. She does not entirely understand the emotions she is picking up from both Lt. Graham and Lt. Onn. She is also surprised that a Helm Officer would be conversant in sensor mask technology in the first place.

At least she stammers out: "Y-yes, ma'am. That is what I meant. Disengaging the mask is usually only done when we intend to announce our presence. The rationale for doing so can be a strategic choice to look aggressive--or an attempt to reassure the subjects that we approach them with open arms. No hidden agenda."

The BCDO lifts an eyebrow and returns to focus with strange intensity at Lt. Graham. Kylah falls silent, unable to advocate for one choice or the other. Although she would prefer to finish this unusual project, this particular decision is not hers to make.

[general_urko]

Graham's intrigued by the explanation but second by second becomes more tense, winding up standing stock still at what seems like Nia's ...disappointment in me? Anger at me?

I can't imagine she'd be pissed I'm not an expert on sensor mechanics...

He runs over last night and this morning: I mean, I fell asleep on our, uh, a date night, and I rushed out in the A-M, but I left that note...but... Did I ruin things between us?

Part of him doesn't feel like that would be fair on Nia's part - but it hurts nonetheless.

Graham finds his throat dry. Holding Nia's eyes, he replies slowly. "If there's a Starfleet protocol on deactivating sensor masks or not, it's beyond my pay grade to override that." He pauses. "Ma'am."

His jaw clenches and releases. "But as a purely tactical analysis, any civilization with a level of technology that can be fooled by our masks is also likely to be vulnerable to our weapons. So I'd call it an acceptable risk."

He doesn't move at all. "Lt. Kawecki, your assessment?"

[Elendil's Heir]

Kawecki thinks for a moment and says, "All things considered, I think we should we proceed, sir."

The Yorktown's Science Officer texts back to Onn, By all means, please verbally pass along my compliment to Mr. Kylah. Thank you. ROBLE.

The Communications Officer replies, I will simply remain on call, then. Better to give Kylah a little elbow room, I believe. THALEN.

Antonov says, "Federation records reveal no nearby alien presence or known settlement at all, let alone one which we might expect to act in a hostile fashion if we attempt to take control of and repair the probe." He shrugs. "I suggest, though, that we inform the Federation Interstellar Exploratory Institute of our intentions. It's a civilian Federation probe and the FIEI ought to know what we're doing."

[SidonianGal]

Nia is struck by how earnest Booker's gaze is. If he's hiding a desire to cut and run from her, he's one of the best dissemblers she's ever seen. Note to self: don't play poker with him.

She nods slowly in appreciation of his advice--and to let him know that she's done with the personal crap on the Bridge, because she knows damn well she's being embarrassingly unprofessional.

With an exhale, she smiles more genuinely before turning to Antonov. "Very good points, Lieutenant. I'll compose a note to the FIEI." Although they're gonna have to suck it up whether they like it or not, given that this job'll be done and dusted long before they get the message.

"FYI," she adds, because damn it, these people aren't getting her message either, "I'm really not worried about the information you're currently finding in the Federation's records. I promise I haven't forgotten your earlier report.

"But this probe's going into uncharted territory. We don't know exactly what's out there." She can't help but give him a teasing grin. "I mean, that's kinda the reason FIEI sends these probes out in the first place, right?"

She turns to the crew at large. "Look, just to make sure everyone's on the same page: I'm confident that the Yorktown is in no danger if we repair the probe. No Romulans or Who-knows-what-ians are gonna attack us once we get that puppy back on line. We're gonna be okay.

"I am concerned with the bigger picture: the long-term impact of the changes Ensign Kylah's about to make to that sensor."

Nia gestures toward the large viewscreen, showing the probe relatively nearby. "That thing is, basically, a message in a bottle being sent to places we've never been. If, months or even years down the road, it comes across some civilization and scans it unmasked--and that civilization is just advanced enough to pay attention to the skies--that probe'll be the first contact the aliens have with the Federation.

"Every one of us has been drilled on the importance, the delicacy, involved in First Contact scenarios. They're unpredictable by their nature. So we have no idea how these hypothetical aliens will perceive that message. Or how they'll react. That's why we use sensor masks with probes in the first place."

She glances around to see if everyone finally sees her point. It's incomprehensible to her why most of these folks don't get it, while she and Kylah--frickin' Kylah of all people!--do.

Then it hits her. Oh yeah. I'm dealing with a half-dozen humans and a Vulcan who've been in the Federation as long as they've lived. They have no clue what it's like to be one of those aliens.

To them, the Federation is benign and safe, has the good of all races and peoples in mind. So how could anyone misunderstand its intentions?

But that's not how everyone views them--Nia's planet, for a start. Sidonia's impending death is the only reason her people had to cry out for help. Even then, most Sidonians distrust Starfleet and the Federation. They're at the mercy of Starfleet's goodwill, such as it is, and not surprisingly, Sidonians don't like asymmetrical relationships. In fact, they resent the hell out of that.

Nia may have nothing else in common with the little Elasian princess--aside from an apparent appreciation for Booker Graham--but at least both Nia and Kylah know what it's like to be alone among strangers. People whose agendas you might not fully understand. Or trust.

That's the whole reason Nia's spent thirteen years in an effective exile from Sidonia. Not just to learn from the Federation and trade her skills for their assistance. But to teach her people how to trust.

She maintains her grin--what else can she do but find their unintentional blindspots amusing?--and turns to Kylah. "Okay. All that said, and even knowing the unlikely but possible risk we're taking of some unpleasant first contact in the future, I agree with our Security team. Ensign Kylah, if you need the power, disengage the sensor mask." Try though she might, Nia can't help herself: she flashes a quick glance at Booker when she continues: "Showing all your cards isn't always a bad thing."

[Elendil's Heir]

"I take your point, ma'am," Antonov says, nodding. "Ideally, we'll be able to fully repair the probe and avoid any such negative outcome."

[choie]

The lengthy discussion flows around Kylah as she continues to work. She listens carefully, however, because the interplay intrigues her.

She is not used to someone in a leadership position entertaining this level of debate. Given the obvious (and admittedly curious) inability of the others to understand Lt. Onn's concerns, surely the woman would have had less trouble if she simply issued her command. After all, barring some catastrophic potential outcome, the crew would have been obliged to obey regardless.

Kylah is relieved when she hears the eventual order, and responds with a definitive "Aye aye, ma'am." She looks up at Mr. Sasok and adds more quietly, "Are my calculations correct, Mr. Sasok? Will disengaging the sensor mask provide us with the energy we need to handle the multiphasic switch from receiving to transmitting?" Gnawing at her lower lip, she eyes the controls again. "It will not hurt to try."

In preparation, she switches the view in her primary monitor so that it mirrors the probe's sensor system control panel. Her fingers hover over the buttons specifically for the dorsal sensor array.

If Mr. Sasok does not dissuade her, Kylah will disengage the sensor mask, then continue to work at turning what was once a single-direction data input receiver into a multidirectional transponder.

[SidonianGal]

Nia opens her mouth to correct Lt. Antonov, but then admits defeat. Mmm, lemme put it another way: discretion is the better part of valor. Her lips curl in a silent smile. Yep, that's certainly a more flattering way to describe it.

She does, however, make a mental note to ask Roble to consider giving some of his officers a refresher course in First Contact procedures.

Having heard the notification from her communicator during all this, Nia reaches over to pick up the device. Ah, speaking of Roble! The replies from her senior officer and Lt. Thalen please her, and she strolls up to Kylah and Sasok.

"By the way, Ensign Kylah," Nia says, both for the girl's benefit and for the rest of the crew to hear. "Cmdr. Roble's been informed of your idea. He says, and this is a direct quote: 'It's a damn clever proposal.' He expressly wanted me to pass along his compliments."

Her hand lifts to gently pat Kylah's shoulder, a feather-light touch, before Nia adds: "And in case I haven't made it clear, I agree with him." She extends her smile of gratitude to Mr. Sasok as well. "You're both doing a solid job on what I know is a damn tricky operation. Thanks."

She moves away from the two of them and retakes her seat in the Captain's chair.

"All right, Mr. Tsu," she says brightly, her thumbs already working to type out a message to the FIEI on her communicator. "Now you can tell me how you're doing on getting 42 back on its intended course."

[general_urko]

Graham is relieved--happy--to see Nia's mood (apparently) change for the better. But "showing all your cards"--was that comment meant for him?

[Elendil's Heir]

Sasok says, "Yes, I think you have it."

Kylah proceeds, and is soon able to create a multidirectional transponder and then make firm contact with the probe.

Tsu says to Onn, "Standing by for a link from Misters Kylah and Sasok."

[SidonianGal]

Nia tilts her head in surprise at Tsu's response. "Oh, guess I misunderstood--I assumed when Mr. Sasok got access to the command functions, that was enough to give you an avenue to the nav panel.*"

When Kylah reports her success, Nia chuckles and gestures gracefully at the Communications officer with a sweep of her hand. "Well, ask and you shall receive, Mr. Tsu. You've certainly got the goods now. Go to it." Turning to Kylah and Sasok, she lets herself give the pair a smile of genuine appreciation. "That is some pretty sweet improvisation, you two. Once we're done with all this, I'd like you to write the procedures up in an instructive report. I haven't seen this particular tech wizardry done before, and I've seen a lot. Cmdr. Roble and Lt. Thalen will want to see how you made it happen."

Actually, Nia wouldn't be surprised if Singh expressed interest as well. But she doesn't want to make Kylah or Sasok feel self-conscious at such close scrutiny. Okay, Sasok would be literally cool with it... Kylah, though, is as always unpredictable. She's done well so far, Nia worries about ruining this little streak of success.

She swings her chair around, casting a pleased smile up at Booker while she circles to face the viewscreen. No sense in ignoring the fact that he likes the girl; he's allowed to be happy for her.




* See #753. Did I misunderstand?

[choie]

The effusive praise is unexpected, and while Kylah just nods silently, she cannot keep her eyes from revealing her pride. She glances up at Sasok and murmurs, "Thank you for getting access so quickly, and advising me on what to do."

She focuses on the probe visible on the screen. The sudden desire to contact Velir and tell him of this success nearly overwhelms her. Achievement is not nearly as pleasurable without sharing it with him. But while they seem to have declared a truce, Kylah is certain things are not yet at the point where she can contact Velir on such a casual basis. Perhaps someday, but not yet.

[anthonydlangford]

"It's a start." Nathaniel says, though he doesn't relish talking to T'Var. He's had his fill of the emotionless, but oddly arrogant Vulcan already. He'd rather scroll through volumes of computer logs than deal with her. "Do you remember the name of the facility that gathered all the information?"

[Elendil's Heir]

Tsu says, "OK, I think I have it now." She taps some more controls and grins. "Yes, I'm in. Full control now established over the probe."

"We should make repairs, should we not, ma'am, rather than simply redirecting it?" Antonov asks Onn.

Tsu, overhearing, says, "I could bring it out of warp, stop it, and order it to drop its deflector shields, if you wish, ma'am."

[general_urko]

Graham has a moment of...well, near panic when Nia swings around, but he's reassured to see her smile. He can't help but (after a brief moment of recognition) smile in return - albeit one which he tamps down for the sake of decorum.

And he's glad to see Kylah willing and able to focus on doing her job--successfully. Without needless...let's call it distractions. If Rangin could just remain on ice on Sickbay for another, oh, decade or so she might have a fine career...

He clears his throat. "Off the record, let me convey Security's appreciation. The paperwork on destroying one of our own craft would've been a nightmare if it came to that."

[SidonianGal]

Nia nearly pauses to fully enjoy Book's look of pleasure--but then remembers that a) now's not the time for a love-fest and b) she's supposed to be pissed at him. Ugh. Consistency sucks.

Instead she redirects her mental focus to her navigator and science officers, who could use a little of that concentration themselves. Her eyebrow raises in amusement--choosing that rather than annoyance at Antonov's flakiness. "I don't know, Lt. Antonov. Unless I've been in some kind of fugue state over the past ten minutes and hallucinated the cleverness just displayed over by the Comm panel," she begins with a nod toward Sasok and Kylah, "the probe's issues are fixed. The main problem 42 had was that it wasn't reporting its data back to the FIEI. Now, thanks to our brilliant pair of ensigns, it is. This new data-scanning-and-sending transponder is online and ready--that's what you two said, isn't it?"

Now turning to Tsu, Nia hides the impulse that almost (almost) makes her wish Cece Bennett were sitting in that chair. She can't help eyeing Pourtash, who's probably thinking the same thing, before whisking her gaze back to Tsu.

"The course correction's the only task left, far as I'm concerned," she starts judiciously, and then exercises her tact muscles to avoid insulting the younger woman. "I like your initiative. But the idea's problematic. If you drop 42 out of warp, we're gonna pass by it so fast we'll be in a new solar system by the time your fingers even finish entering the command." An exaggeration, of course, but Nia wants to keep things light.

"No, seriously... As you know, we'd have to slow down ourselves, and I don't think Singh wants that--I sure don't, and I bet Lt. Pourtash likes our current speed just fine." She grins at her fellow helmsman. No pilot likes slowing down. "Truth is, there's a limit to how much time we can spend on this misfit probe--we have our own mission. So, once you get 42 back on track for its original destination, and most importantly, doing what it's supposed to...however scandalously unorthodox its methods--" Nia switches to flash her grin at Kylah and Sasok--"I vote that we enjoy our success and move on."

Not that anyone else gets a vote. This ain't a democracy. But what the hell, it keeps things casual and lets the crew feel that she doesn't have... What does A.J. call it, again? Oh yeah: Captain Bligh syndrome.

She looks around, genuinely interested to see how the others are feeling. At least, what they appear to be feeling. Nia knows looks can be deceiving. That's fine. Sometimes just the gloss is good enough. The big chair has its privileges.

Her voice remains cheerful but reassuring. "Besides, as per Lt. Antonov's excellent suggestion, I've already notified FIEI of what we've done. If they're not satisfied," which would make 'em friggin' ingrates... "they can put in a request for more detailed servicing by some other ship. It's a civilian enterprise, we've already done our part." Nia lifts her hands, palm upwards in a sort of shrugging, there you have it gesture. "Anything else? Otherwise, Lt. Tsu, make the course correction according to their nav logs, and let's send our little wanderer back on its way."

[Elendil's Heir]

Antonov bows slightly. "Of course, Lieutenant. Just a thought."

Tsu makes the course correction, and Surveyor 42 resumes its long, lonely mission out among the stars. The Yorktown also turns back to its earlier course.

Capt. Singh returns to the Bridge about 20 minutes later. She commends Onn and everyone for handling the probe situation so well, and takes her seat again.

The rest of the watch passes without incident, and you go off duty. Soon it is time for the senior officers' dinner. You have time to change into full-dress uniform.

[general_urko]

Graham pauses and looks in the mirror as he gets dressed.

Grayer. More scars than the last-first-time you put on a Lt. JG dress uniform.

And back then you believed everything would just be great if you climbed the ladder, for you...and Lizzy, and Jane...


He shakes his head clear and finishes. Well that was wrong. Tonight just try not to fuck anything up in the next few hours, Booker.

[SidonianGal]

After as much swimming as she can cram in during the period after Bridge watch ended and a nebulous time Nia decides to call "the-latest-possible-moment-she-can-procrastinate-before-she-must-get-ready-and-still-look-halfway-decent-at-an-event-she-doesn't-want-to-attend," the tall Sidonian woman rushes through her skin care and makeup routine, bare-ass naked except for her scales at the periphery of her body parts.

Nia's not usually big on makeup, but tonight's different. Fancy dress (as far as Starfleet uniforms go, anyway) and the first time at an official event with Booker. She's annoyed with him but that doesn't mean she doesn't want him to like what he sees. Actually, it's even more important that he likes what he sees.

So: The barest hint of silvery green shadow that deepens her emerald eye color and highlights the faint scales surrounding her lids. A sweep of blush to emphasize and warm her smooth skin and high cheekbones. And she decides to dab her lips with gloss matching the deep, reddish-purple of a pomegranate--the same scent and flavor, too, if anyone gets close/lucky enough to notice. Or taste.

The rest is standard Starfleet. No jewelry--not even her usual barrette, because tonight Nia's wearing her hair loose and long. Not her usual choice, since she likes it out of her face and off her mind. Tonight, though, she's forced the curls into submission with a soothing hair balm, which lets them shimmer and ripple down to the small of her back.

Nia steps with some difficulty into her high-heeled boots and takes a last look in the mirror.

Well, maybe Booker won't, she thinks with a grim smile. But I'd fuck you.

With a toss of her head she rushes out of the bathroom and notices the old edition of The Maltese Falcon on her unmade bed. Should she bring it and add it to the growing list of stuff Booker should feel guilty about? Nope. Be practical. What's he gonna do with it all night at the dinner? Stick it beside his plate? Righteous indignation is fun and all, but Nia didn't spend all those credits to get the damn thing covered in wine stains or glops of food.

Nia hopes he'll be the one to retrieve it. A little contrition will get him inside her quarters; a lot will get him in her bed so he can find the book himself.

Almost late now. Crap. She quickens her pace out of her room. No time to take Andy's present as she'd planned, and while she spots the keyboard and monitor she'd knocked into this morning, she doesn't bother setting the former back on her desk or turning the latter on to see any messages.

It's okay, she can give Andy his gift tomorrow. As for the computer... well, no biggie. Anything important would be sent directly to her communicator, anyway.

[choie]

The traditional ritual of beautification is not something Kylah left behind once she left her home planet. Not even now, after all the unpleasant attention she has attracted on board the ship. Her uncle has reminded her that she must ever represent Elas in the manner befitting her noble family. The ugliness and scandals surrounding her make it more important than ever to show the crew and any guests on board that no matter what they may think, she remains a member of the Elasian ancient and royal House of the Silver Weeping Tree.

Two hours since her watch have passed, and she is only now finishing the last touches. Her jet-black hair is woven into thirty-three braids, each ending with one tiny white bead. Whenever she moves her head, the braids dance and gleam in the light, and the pearl-colored beads create an almost musical sound. She would have preferred to pull the braids back into a thick knot, but the clip with which she would have secured it--silver and onyx in the shape of entwined leafy branches--is lost forever, stolen down on Anubis. Her mother's jewelry, part of the cost she must bear for her treachery and foolishness.

Of course she wears her Starfleet dress uniform, one that has been specially fitted to enhance her curves courtesy of orders by Uncle Aldaan. Kylah cannot imagine whom he bribed to enable such customizations. Or perhaps a more charitable reason exists: perhaps he requested and received the permission simply out of respect for her culture? Even as it is now, the uniform is almost comically prudish compared to Elasian everyday wear, much less formal or ceremonial outfits.

Her face is made up flawlessly, as it almost always is except in times of crisis (which, she must admit, occur more often these days). Thick curling lashes, lids lined in black kohl and shimmering with pearlescent eyeshadow, and delicate, translucent pink for her lips and cheeks.

She is ready to attend this dinner, still uncertain why she has been invited given her troubled and tarnished reputation. The thought makes her frown until she is heartened by the memory of the triumph during today's watch. Kylah accomplished something. Captain Singh made note of the Bridge crew's success at saving the probe, and Lt. Cmdr. Roble singled her out--at least, that is what Lt. Onn told her. And Kylah cannot imagine that the other woman would lie to make Kylah look better.

Pride makes her shiver in pleasure, and she hugs herself while looking in the mirror. I wish I could tell him, she thinks yet again. And, with a glance at her chronometer, Kylah makes an impulsive decision to do just that.

She snatches up her communicator and flips it open.

[Elendil's Heir]

You each appear in the Wardroom on Deck 2 for dinner at the appointed hour. Stewards are circulating with trays bearing appetizers, glasses of wine (Chateau Picard ‘50 and a more recent vintage of Dorwinion chablis, most notably) and other refreshments. Classical music plays over hidden speakers.

The rest of the senior officers, all of whom, like you, are in dress uniform, are already gathering. First Officer Vargas, Science Officer Roble and Chief Engineer Cheverez are chatting with a Vulcan man in Science blue and a Skorr woman (you think) in Engineering red, neither of whom you've met before. Communications Officer Thalen and Lt. Bennett greet Dr. Villa, the Chief Medical Officer, as she arrives. Several other officers are there, too. The Captain has not yet arrived.

The Wardroom’s long Theban marble table is covered for the occasion by a crisp white linen tablecloth. Well-polished silver, fine china bearing the Starfleet arrowhead, and fluted Rigellian crystal glassware show that the Yorktown knows how to entertain when the occasion arises.

http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Skorr

[general_urko]

Graham raises an eyebrow. Skorr? Don't see them every day.

He grabs a drink from the nearest steward, not especially choosily...not being much of a "wine guy." But having something in hand feels reassuring.

Cecilia looks nice.

He decides a far better course of action than going over to chat with either her or Vargas is to find Nia first.

[anthonydlangford]

“Not bad.” Nathaniel thinks as he sips the red wine.

He isn’t a wine snob, but he does appreciate the finer stuff. And he hasn’t had anything that could be considered that since leaving Earth two years ago. Where he’d gone and the places he’d been good wine has been hard to find. But when you want to forget something the cheaper stuff did just fine. And back then Nathaniel wanted to forget the the events that made him leave Starfleet, Earth and the comfortable life he’d had there. While he hadn’t lost himself in a bottle of booze, some might consider his behavior just as reckless, maybe even more so. After all, he had nearly gotten himself killed more than once.

But he soon learned that he couldn’t forget no matter how he he tried, no matter all the risks he took, and the many, many men he’d bedded, though he hadn’t regretted that part. Sex is never regrettable, unless it is bad.

But his inability to forget is why he is here on this ship. He only hoped he’d find the answers he was looking for. Starting tonight. It was the only reason why he hadn’t tried to think of a way to get out of this ridiculous and boring dinner. After all, most of the players would be here. And he needs to get to know them.

He is still a little disturbed about this situation with Rangin and the virus. But he isn ‘t going to figure out that mystery tonight. But he wants to get to the bottom of that as well. For now though, he has his own problems to worry about.

He spots Cecilia and figured he should greet his cousin. She is going to prove to be useful as she could introduce him to the people he needs to meet in order for him to complete his task. He takes another drink and heads over to his cousin.

[SidonianGal]

Nia scans the room and exhales in relief. She's not late--Singh isn't even here yet.

After noting the Captain's absence, she's about to search for Booker, but instead her attention is drawn like a magnet to the massive yellow Skorr...um, female, she guesses, given the uniform.

How the heck did she board without the gossip mill churning out the news? Plus, there's another new guy, a Vulcan. Nia vows that A.J.'s gonna pay for letting her fall behind on the ship's scuttlebutt.

Nia feels some kinship with the Skorr; there used to be several avian lifeforms on Sidonia, though they're almost entirely extinct due to the toxic air, drought and predators. Some scientists claim that at one time the Sidonian humanoids and avians were descended from the same ancestor, but it's only theory: no proof has been found, and such anthropological research is no longer the focus of what little scientific activity remains on her planet.

Nia's excited to meet the Skorr woman, and the Vulcan as well. Normally she'd happily go over to greet the newcomers, especially since two of her favorite senior officers are with them.

Trouble is, there's a third familiar officer in their company, one who most definitely doesn't rank on Nia's Top Ten list of Yorktown pals. And Cmdr. Vargas wouldn't rate her too highly either.

To hell with it. Nia doesn't like the idea of backing down just to avoid the Second-in-Command.

Lifting her chin, she starts a stroll toward the quintet, noting Thalen and Bennett off to her left as she passes by. Then she spots another stranger heading up to that pair. A male--possibly human, as far as she can tell--in Science Blue.

Oh, and he's also drop. Dead. Gorgeous.

She nearly pauses on her way across the floor, struck by the sheer aesthetic beauty in human form. Who in the name of Seht'Dar's Holy Balls is that?!

Her gaze expertly scans him without being too obvious, and it occurs to her that whoever he is, he could actually be mistaken for one of her half-brothers. Tall. Fit. Similar skin-tone and eye color. All that's missing are scales. His loss, Nia thinks with an inward smile.

She moistens her lips and turns away. In order to avoid gawking, she aims her gaze like a laser to focus straight ahead. If Booker's here, she'll have to find him later. Or he'll find her, which would be better as far as she's concerned.

Gracefully sidling closer to Cheverez, Roble, the two newbies and Vargas, she'll wait in polite silence to catch Roble or Cheverez's eye.

[choie]

Kylah ends up hurrying toward Deck 2 and the Wardroom, having taken longer than she expected to composer her message to Velir. She hopes it was the right thing to do.

Even now she is tempted to recall the message, assuming he has not read it yet. It would be simplicity itself for her to erase it, even from Velir's mailbox. There are benefits to being a Communications officer.

When she reaches the entrance to the Wardroom, Kylah notices that her palms are damp from being clenched into nervous fists. She wipes them lightly on her uniform, making sure that there is no stain, and after a deep breath, walks inside.

It might be a select group of invitees, but to Kylah, the room seems more crowded than expected. She does not know where to go. How many events did she act as hostess back home? Klingons, Terrans, Vulcans--not at the same time, of course--she sat either by her uncle's side or next to whichever noteworthy guest Aldaan thought would be most amenable to Kylah's presence. And she survived them all.

During a few seconds of anxious immobility, she takes in the whole surroundings--and in between the murmurs or laughs of conversing attendees, Kylah picks out a soft strain of music. She gladly focuses on it, breathing in and out in roughly the same tempo as the piece.

Finally she pushes forward, accepts a glass of something that appears to be wine, and takes a sip. Do not have too much, she warns herself, although the pleasant warmth spreading from her chest makes gulping the entire glass far too tempting. Kylah knows that she is sensitive to alcohol.

Of course the farther she moves into the room, the more emotions buffet her from almost every direction. She closes her eyes for a few seconds, hating crowds, hating being on display, and hating having so little control over her senses. Then, with another deep sigh, she searches for someone friendly in whose company she can hide.

[Elendil's Heir]

Graham sees Onn as she enters the Wardroom.

Lt. Cecilia Bennett has her dark brown hair up in an elegant chignon and looks sensational. She gives her cousin the doctor an affectionate kiss on the cheek, and introduces him to the handsome young Andorian at her side, in red as she is: "Nathaniel, this is my friend Lt. Thalen. He's the ship's Communications Officer and head of the Lyceum. And you know Dr. Villa already, of course...?" The blue alien and Nathaniel's boss both shake his hand and welcome him. A passing steward offers everyone pesto cheese tartlets from a tray.

Cheverez grins to see Onn. The Filipino engineer cheerily says, "Nia! I'm glad you could come. Have you met our two newest officers yet?" He introduces her to the Skorr, Lt. Vielar, the Yorktown's new Assistant Chief Engineer, who shakes Onn's hand with her sharp talons carefully curled back. Roble also welcomes the Sidonian helmswoman and introduces her to Lt. Cmdr. Sonak, the ship's new Assistant Science Officer. Vielar, her wingtips nearly scraping the ceiling, seems friendly, while Sonak, although polite, has the characteristic Vulcan reserve. Cmdr. Vargas also cordially greets Onn.

Thalen, Kylah's boss, seems a bit preoccupied with his group, but she also sees Lt. JG Ade Soerjosoemarno, whom she knows from Communications, across the room; he smiles and waves. As he does so Kylah spots Graham with a glass in his hand, alone for the moment. Just then a steward offers her a selection of hot Altairian savory crackers.

Rangin remains in Sickbay. He has not, as yet, replied to Kylah's text.

[general_urko]

Nia seems to know exactly where she wants to go and who she wants to talk to, Graham thinks. Not really a susprise, he adds with admiration.

Well just don't lumber over there like an idiot...

He very slowly makes his way in her general direction, pausing to take a sip of his drink and to say hello to anyone he recognizes on the way.

[Rangin]

Rangin sits propped up in the bed in sickbay. Probably one more night in here and then discharge in the morning was the last he heard and as no-one has told him otherwise, it’s not like he is going anywhere fast.

Having given the details on the Sakathian Mission and a reference to the logs where they should be, there is little for Rangin to do but wait and continue his research. The place is quiet, something about an Officer’s meal going on. Would he have been there if he was not injured? He doesn’t know, although the new Doctor is going. Perhaps it is more an introductory event than anything else.

Fidgeting in the bedclothes, Rangin pulls out his datapad with his work on and looks at the opt of it again. The reason why his research halted for the moment, a message he received a little while previous...from Ens. Kylah. Just looking at the name on it made him nervous wondering what it would say, what might have changed between the time she was here last, and the here and now.

With only the gentle sound of the monitor there to break the silence, his fingers hover over it, not wondering if he should read. But how he can continue when it is there waiting and taunting him? Screwing up his nerves, he quickly taps on the message to open it and reflexively shuts his eyes, before forcing them open to at least look at the first few sentences of the message.

RANGIN, ENS. -- I hope you are feeling better. You were missed on the Bridge this morning. Our path crossed with that of an off-course Federation probe, one sent by the FIEI to uncharted territory. Not only was it off-course, it was no longer transmitting its scan results back home…

This...this is unexpected.

His brow remains furrowed as he continues to read. It is slightly formal, but friendly, and he stops, flicks to the top and starts reading again, convincing himself once again who it came from.

There is also a small, warm feeling of gratitude towards her for writing to him, as not many have been passed. As he reads through, he shakes his head in disbelief at some of the actions taken. He does wonder if the Prime Directive was something they had considered. Just randomly scanning places openly is such a bad idea. How can you see things in their natural habitat if you decide to just announce your presence to everyone with a loudspeaker?

Admittedly the story is told from Kylah’s viewpoint, but even so, Rangin cannot help but wonder.

After reading a couple of times, he wonders what to write back. He briefly considers if he even should, but pushes it to one side. No he should respond.

KYLAH, ENS. -- Thank you for writing to me. I am feeling better and hope to be discharged shortly. I read with interest of the encounter with the off-course Federation probe and would like to thank you for the summary. Indeed I wish I could have been on the Bridge when it happened instead of in SickBay...

[SidonianGal]

Nia's happy to make the acquaintance of the two new officers, although her hand reaching for Vielar's instinctively sprouts protective scales. Turns out it wasn't necessary, since the new ACoE was polite enough to retract those deadly-looking claws, but Nia's not responsible for her own biological impulses. Well, not all of them, anyway.

One thing she can control is her surprise upon learning the news that Vielar's in engineering. Nia's face reveals no puzzlement, but inside she's already wondering the logistics of this. How... how will that even work? I mean, physically? She tries to imagine the accommodations that'll be required to enable Vielar and her massive wings and talons to deal with ducts and instruments built almost exclusively for non-winged humanoids.

Tons of questions spring to mind, but Nia won't ask them. Accommodations have been made for her, given her breathing issues, so she's not one to judge. If Vielar managed to rise to her current position and Cheverez has confidence she'll do the job right, that's good enough for Nia. Still, she's looking forward to a chat with Delaney, whose demotion took him out of the running despite his prodigious talent, or Dahlquist--not that Nia's feeling too friendly toward him after his weird attitude the other day. Speaking of which, another possibility for promotion would've been Trigor--

Oh! Her own thoughts catch her up. Oh wow. Is this why Trig was so annoyed the other day? Was he expecting the promotion? Suddenly his pissy mood makes sense. Would've been a pretty big leap, Ensign to a department Assistant Chief, but Book made it. Anyway, since when does ambition mean thinking realistically? Trigorin could be irked regardless of what his actual chances were.

All this flashes through her brain in the time it takes to greet Vielar and Sonak, along with Cheverez, Roble and a more-polite-than-usual Vargas. How much of this wine has he had? Nia also makes a mental note to find out what happened to the two other Assistant Chiefs who were taken on back before they left Anubis.* Weirdly enough, she doesn't even remember their names, which is probably an indication of how unimpressive their work must've been, necessitating these replacements.

Still... why drag new people in when you've got several solid Engies and Science Officers who could've been rewarded with the extra stripe? Plus, this means Trig and the rest were overlooked twice in less than two months, which has gotta sting.

Nia trusts Cheverez and Roble to reward good work, so she decides randomly to blame Vargas, because why the hell not? Wouldn't be out of character. At least he had the good sense to promote Book. But then, Vargas is nothing if not loyal to his own private team. Redshirts stick together.

After a bit of small talk, she turns to Roble and Cheverez. "By the way, I asked Ensigns Sasok and Kylah to write up a report on their wizardry regarding that FIEI probe. Thought it might be useful to study, maybe even publish in some tech journal--although it's probably best to wait till we hear from Omicron Pascal, make sure it works as hoped."

As she talks she recognizes a man, mostly through his familiar gait, out of the corner of her eye. Ah. There he is. Nia really wants to take a good, long look at Booker Graham in his new dress uniform. In her present company, though? Not a good idea.

She turns to Vargas, eyes sparkling. "Did you hear about today's mini-triumph, sir? The Captain seemed pleased."


* Couldn't help it, I suffer from continuity OCD.

[choie]

Surprised by Lt. JG Ade Soerjosoemarno's pleasant greeting, Kylah actually twists behind her to see if he is aiming his wave at someone else. She cannot tell, so rather than be rude, she lifts her hand slightly in return, even at the expense of her dignity if his gesture was not meant for her.

Should she go over to him? She has only ever seen Mr. Soerjosoemarno* in passing whenever her duty keeps her in the Communications department. And, again, there is the possibility that he was not waving at her. Oh, I am being foolish, I must try to make friends, she reminds herself. Doing so means risking rejection, but without such a risk, there can be no reward.

Then she spots Mr. Graham, and the tight knot in her stomach relaxes. She can at least greet him, he will not object. Although his gaze is fixed firmly on--she follows the direction of his focus--a group of high-ranking officers, including Cmdr. Vargas himself. Of course! His promotion... He is Lt. Graham now. Naturally it is proper for him to greet his peers and superiors first.

...A thought that causes a frown to wrinkle her nose. Alone among everyone she has seen thus far, Kylah is the only Ensign. The room seems to be a sea of Lieutenants Junior Grade, Lieutenants and higher. Why am I singled out? What am I doing here?

Looking down at herself reminds her that she is not just any Ensign. In addition to the very visible custom fit of her uniform, her uncle's influence has brought Kylah an invisible advantage that others in her rank lack. It must be why she is so favored with invitations and missions, regardless of her skills or failings. As always she remains ambivalent about this: recognition both pleases and unnerves her.

A tray appears in front of her as if it beamed in from nowhere. With a little start, she stares at the server and is about to refuse. And yet... the hors d'oeuvres smell delicious. And she neglected her breakfast in order to visit Velir. Lunch, too, was limited to a quick cup of soup.

Truth is, despite the tailor's best work, the dress uniform is now looser than it was at the last special event onboard. One cracker will not be too much of an indulgence. Besides, it will give her something to do other than stand and drink wine. Kylah nods at the server and accepts the little cracker.

Just the first tiny nibble makes her almost grab the tray for more. Spicy but delicious. Kylah's wondrous gaze meets the server's and she cannot help smiling in gratitude. Once she swallows her bite, she says, "How marvelous! Thank you so much, you are very kind!"

Which, she realizes too late, almost makes her sound as if she believes these appetizers were personally cooked and served for her enjoyment alone.

With a less effusive nod she backs away and, with both hands now occupied with the wine and the rest of the appetizer, Kylah is back to her original quandary. She decides to head for her colleague across the room. Focusing entirely on nibbling to finish the cracker before anyone sees her with it, she nearly bumps into Lt. Graham after all.

"Excuse me, sir," she says, covering her mouth while she chews the remnants of the food. "I was not paying attention..."





* Thanks ever so much for inventing such an easy-to-remember name!

[general_urko]

Graham takes his eye off Nia--a bit reluctantly--but can't help but smile when he hears Kylah. "No harm done, Ens--"

It takes him a moment to digest her outfit. The fact she's his daughter's age and sometimes (particularly when she's red with fury at him) reminds him of Lizzy is hard to square with a uniform that's, uh...provocative, to say the least. He clears his throat.

He clears his throat. "You uh, look very nice, Mr. Kylah." Then he raises his glass in the manner of a toast. This time his smile returns. "And that was good work on the Bridge today. It was good to see you doing...ah, doing a job I think you were meant to do," he adds, nodding.

[choie]

The sudden compliment lifts Kylah's spirits. "Why... thank you, sir. I was gratified to help in some way. Usually, I... " She lifts her shoulder in a half-shrug. "Well, you know as well as anyone that I have reflected poorly on the Yorktown. I hope I can continue to be useful, rather than..."

She hesitates, having noticed the direction of Lt. Graham's gaze, although now he seems intent on avoiding anything but her face. As far as she can tell, her uniform seems to be the object of his attention.

With a rueful sigh, she presses her now-free hand against the material at her waist. "I know, sir, it is loose and not a good fit; I must look unkempt. I should have had this altered at the same time as my regular uniform, but I had no idea an occasion to wear this would crop up so quickly."

Kylah hopes no one else notices. She quickly changes the topic to Lt. Graham himself, examining him instead. He seems particularly handsome to her, with his gleaming silver hair, the elegant dress uniform, and a general air of contentment that Kylah can sense even with her eyes closed.

"Your own uniform is becoming to you, Lt. Graham." Lifting her hand, she lightly brushes the additional stripe before smiling up at him. "The extra gold is even more striking. Sir, I know I said it before, but--I am very proud of you. I think--"

She hesitates, caught between truth and tact. The former wins out and she blurts softly, "I think I will have more faith in Security, knowing that you are at the head of it. Not counting Cmdr. Vargas," she adds with a glance toward that officer.

[Elendil's Heir]

Onn considers that perhaps the two officers she just met were those who came aboard before the Yorktown left Anubis, but she just hadn't had the chance to officially meet them yet, as busy as she - and probably they - have been.

Roble nods judiciously. "Yes, I'll be interested to read their report on the probe."

Vargas says, "The Surveyor probe? Yes, that was a nice bit of work, Lieutenant. You had the Conn at the time, I believe? Well done."

The steward smiles at Kylah, nods and moves away with her tray.

When Kylah has a chance to look around, she spots two other officers without cuff braid - one in Command gold, and the other in Science or Medical blue - so she knows she isn't the only ensign at the party.

[SidonianGal]

Nia blinks at the curious, almost intrusive idea that popped into her head while Vargas spoke.

She's not sure what's more bizarre--a) the notion that she's both somehow missed a seven-foot bird on board her ship for two months, and none of her close pals in Engineering bothered to mention that their new ACoE is a Skorr, or b) the fact that Cmdr. Vargas, a guy who's on the record (literally--her record!) as barely tolerating Nia's smart mouth, has just paid her a rather pleasant and, as far as she can tell, sincere compliment.

Ignoring the trivial speculation about the newcomers, she focuses on this most rare of occurrences: a pat on the head from the second-highest-ranking officer on the Yorktown.

"Thank you, sir," Nia says with an appreciative nod. "I hope it didn't seem like I was blowing my own horn--did I get that idiom right?" she adds, lifting an amused eyebrow at Cheverez before continuing. "I'd love to take credit, but all the hard work was done by Lt. Antonov, at Science, Tsu at Nav, and especially the pair who basically performed communications alchemy--Sasok and Kylah."

She looks around to see if either of them are in attendance. Can't see Sasok around, though he might be here and just hidden... And then... oh, of course, of course she finds Kylah right next to Booker. Wearing what looks like a dress uniform as rendered by a porn vid produced for Starfleet-fetishists.

And to think Nia's been mildly annoyed that Cecilia Bennett's already attracted the hot new officer and is bound to do the same with Booker. Should've guessed it'd be Kylah. Seriously, what the hell is she wearing? All that makeup, holy crap... and how long did it take her to concoct that hairstyle? Good grief, does she have a handmaiden stashed somewhere in her quarters?

Taking all that in with the same fast reaction time that's her inheritance from her often preyed-upon ancestors, Nia quickly flicks her gaze back to Vargas. "Um... honestly, I only even mentioned it because from what I know of the two of them, they're likely to underplay their achievements in that report. Sasok's as straight an arrow as I've seen, even for a Vulcan--if you don't mind my saying," Nia says with an apologetic smile toward Sonak. "And Ensign Kylah's..."

Ensign Kylah's what, exactly? What's Nia supposed to call her? Humble? Self-effacing? Would someone without a hefty sense of self-esteem put herself together like that and parade around like a--

Nia cuts herself off mid-thought. Because the answer is, actually... yeah. Absolutely someone would. Someone who thinks her looks are her only asset.

Well, dammit. Nia's mood deflates slightly. She's already annoyed with Book, she doesn't want to add to her own aggravation by being forced to feel bad for a princess too.

With only a slight hesitation she goes on in a slightly lower tone: "...And Ensign Kylah has more than her share of humility; in fact, I think she's... not as sure of herself as she could be."

Nia glances at Cheverez again. He's Kylah's ultimate superior officer, maybe he can give her a pep talk. Pretty obvious that Roble's compliment earlier meant a lot to Kylah. Who knows how the kid might react to a face-to-face 'well done?'

"Anyway," she says with a casual shrug and a direct look at Vargas, "They're the ones who pulled a tech miracle out of their hats, all without a bit of planning. Honestly, Commander, if this had been a Starfleet exercise to test the improvisational skills of our lower-ranking officers, it couldn't have been more of a success."

[choie]

While briefly glancing over Lt. Graham's shoulder and seeing the others' braidless uniforms, Kylah sighs in relief. It is her hope that the more normally she is treated, the less off-putting she will seem to her crewmates, particularly those with the same rank. Then her attention returns to Lt. Graham, her smile a little brighter.

[general_urko]

"Unkempt" is about the last word in the universe Graham would use to describe Kylah's outfit, but her reaction is a thousand times better than "stop ogling me you pervert."

Don't be creepy old guy, Booker...

Her smile - an honest-to-god smile - helps him refocus. Even more so...she brushed his uniform. He's...relieved, relieved of guilt, that his flashback and grabbing her on OCIII hasn't terrorized her, for god's sake...and, for a brief second...what would the impossible moment it be like if and when Lizzy admired the uniform, brushed the insignia...

He clears his throat. "That's a very nice thing to say, but..." He rubs his chin with his free hand. "...if we lose the trust of the people we're sworn to protect, we're not doing our job, are we?." He turns his gaze from Kylah over toward Vargas (and Nia...). "Anyway, speaking of jobs, I should probably say hello to my boss over there. Want to come along?"

After a very brief pause, he adds "For the record, it's good to see you smile, Mr. Kylah. If there's anything I can do to make it a more common occurrence, let me know, OK?" He smiles again. "Just a request of a friend, I won't make it an order, despite the stripes."

[choie]

Kylah's fingers curl around the stem of her wine glass, as if it takes both hands to hold this light burden, while she turns to follow Lt. Graham's gaze. The idea of joining such senior officers--even Lt. Onn, complimentary as she was this afternoon--is too intimidating.

"Oh! No, no thank you, sir. I should find my colleagues. I cannot always cling to you or Dr. T'Var, or even Ve--" She halts mid-syllable, looks down at her glass. "Well, you know," she directs at the pale gold liquid.

Then she forces her eyes up to Lt. Graham's. "Smiling... really, it is not something Elasians do very often. When we are young, yes, but not as adults. I do not know why, to be honest. There are many things about my culture I do not understand. Anyway, since I am now among many who do value smiles, I try to return them."

Kylah's voice and expression soften the longer she looks at the older man. "As for what you can do... just... if you would remain my friend? Whatever people may say of me?" Mark Ferguson's blunt warning yesterday sends a slither of dread down her spine. Recalling the claustrophobia in that horribly loud machine room quickens her breathing--and sparks the courage to voice a request.

"You can also help, with your new job..." Kylah steps closer so she can lower her voice even further; her wine glass is almost the only thing between them now. "Being safe would help me smile. In addition to the defensive lessons you promised, I wonder if you would consider a suggestion? Not just for me, but for the safety of the ship?"