[ PO2 Riley Patterson | Deck 08 | Daniel Havenborn's Quarters | USS Theurgy | Vector 2 ] Attn: @Havenborn
Daniels continuous ministrations to all of her erogenous spots made the world spin for Riley. Her toes curled up in the pleasure and her eyes drift shut, feeling them roll away behind the closed eyelids. The pressure inside of her stomach only building up and her inners walls grasped tightly around Daniel's intrusive member. Whilst Riley knew that Federation birth control had been on point to keep unwanted pregnancies at bay, she might've been somewhat sloppy on how she regulated hers. There'd be times where she forgot to do a check up or check if she needed a booster to keep her birth control levels on point. A thing you'd probably not expect a medical proficient person to have.
However, she was sure Daniel would be on a sort of birth control and right now, she'd not let him slip out of her for obvious reasons. His words and various actions made her spill for him as she bit in his earlobe and moaned "Let it go Daniel." her sentence nearly produced before she sucked in the air and screamed her lungs out as she climaxed for him and turned that hold she had on his member into a vicegrip and grounded herself down on it to push him over the edge. Her nails dug into his skin at his shoulders and clawed away at him as she pressed her entire body into his to be as close as she could with him.
[ Lt Amelya Rez | Aldea Spa | Aldea Prime ] Attn: @Stegro88
Peterson assured the Trill that she was fine, that she didn't get harmed in the slip and fall. While Amelya made the implication to move herself, she stopped dead in her tracks when she felt the hand of the other woman on her leg. It felt familiar, whether it felt good or bad was something she wasn't sure of. Her eyes darted towards Donna and she looked into her eyes. Her reaction was voiced out and hung in the air. She didn't have to move if she didn't want to.
Amelya slowly nodded, yet didn't stop the movement she had initiated. Slowly sitting upright before granting Donna more breathing room. She positioned herself off the woman, yet kept her leg in reach for her, letting the human rest her hand on her leg. With the new position, Amelya found her pelvis pressing against Donna's. Their legs somewhat scissored against one another and they bodies close to one another. The mud caused for a layer, be it subtle and pretty much non existent if either of them moved.
Rez was at a loss for words right now as she slowly lay herself back. Oncly increasing the pressure of their lower bodies against one another. though it was the easiest way to slowly envelop herself under the blanket of warm mud. The actual goal of them being here. The mud covered up her abdomen and about half of her breasts, the peaks of her nipples visible through the fire layer as she kept her head out of it as well for now, if only to be able to make conversation with Donna.
[ ~2 Hours Earlier | Main Sickbay ]
The time and place were given for their spa retreat and Amelya blinked once before she gave a nod.
"I'll meet you there."
With just that, she turned on her heels and walked out of sight of Donna.
[ Lt Cmdr Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Mk III Valkyrie Cockpit ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Havenborn @SummerDawn @Nero @P.C. Haring @Lathaniel @Eden
The Klingon message didn't bode well, in fact it pretty much torpedoed their chances of getting out of this endeavor alive. Thomas didn't answer to the comms as they had gone into warp. He used the time to focus and to think of what he left behind. The love of his life and his probable only chance to something that resembled a family. It didn't take that long for them to drop out warp. The little kick it gave as Qo'noS appeared in front of them. There was no sign of the Romulan ship, neither on visual nor on the sensors.
Ravon was about to answer Rawley's question if they overshot their target before the Romulan ship began to decloak while the explosions made it apparent that their defector had kept her part of the deal. The chirp and message that came on their screens said enough and Thomas exhaled slowly before he handed out his orders.
"Neko, get a message to our friend inside the ship that she should find a shuttle to commandeer."
In the meantime he throttled up his fighter and began to race towards the Romulan ship.
"Rawley, on my tail. We're going to say hello to that bird and try and take out whatever we can to ensure our on board friend has a chance to escape."
Whilst still closing the distance, the Romulan ship began to deploy their own fighter contigency. A group of six Stalker fighters poured out of the ship and converged onto the leading Wolves. Thomas narrowed his eyes, not underestimating the fighters as the Romulan ship began to open fire on them. Evasive flying had to be incorporated.
"Salvo! Get these stalkers of our tail!"
[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Down River | Small Sail Boat | Aldea Prime ]Attn: @Number6
For Natalie, the behavior she was displaying was highly out of character and aught to have shocked her right out of the moment, giving an order like that to someone like Vanya, where Vanya was, nestled between her thighs. A sight that until moments before, Natalie would have never been able to imagine. After all, she wasn't interested in women. She didn't do this kind of thing. The sheer incredulity of it all was of a level and intensity that could break anyone's focus. There were a million thoughts that she would have expected to be running through her mind in that moment, wondering if, perhaps the Romulan girl preferred her partners to be shaved barren, unlike the trimmed triangle that Nat maintained between her legs. Worrying that she might not have a taste that the other woman would enjoy. Worrying that she'd squeeze her legs too hard, that the sensations might be too much. Might not be enough. '
But between the Aldean wine at dinner, and the need, and all the winding up that Vanya had put Nat through earlier, some switch deep in the Martian's psyche had been switched. Vanya had asked what Nat wanted and the curvaceous brunette aimed to make that as clear as possible for her friend.
She had wanted to be bold, and so here she was, wiggling her hips closer to her friends face, letting her legs fall further apart, subconsciously giving the Romulan Android more room to work with. An act which was, swiftly, rewarded, when she felt something wet gently brushing her folds. Her breath hitched in her throat and Nat's eyes snapped back down in time to catch the android woman looking back up at her, light from the stars above reflecting in otherwise dark orbs. To call the moment breathtaking was an understatement, as Natalie watched Vanya move back in, to taste her, to spread her flowering core apart with what was proving to be a delightful tongue.
"Oh, fuck yes," the normally clean mouthed Martian swore. Though the moment was sweet, downright romantic even, the first brush of two lovers tasting the water - and skin -between them, sampling each others fruirs, Natalie could not think of anything flowery or sweet to say. Just a deep, throaty oath, before she bit her lip, looking down the curves of her body as slowly, she tugged her friends head back into place, to cater to the dripping well of heated need between her legs. That would be the extent of the affirmation that Natalie was able to give Vanya in that moment, an act of simply giving into her own desires and demanding more, not with words, but with her body.
Last post by Brutus -
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Offices of Councilor K'Tal| The Great Hall | The First City of the Klingon Empire | Qo'noS ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @chXinya @Stegro88 @SaraKnight @Nero @Nesota Kynnovan @Ellen Fitz
Sarresh could feel his heart still racing in his chest, even as they stood in the secluded room, no longer under the immediate threat of being slaughtered on the spot . They'd come through the battle, and while the former Ash'reem was sure he would never forget the smell of Klingon blood (being coated in it), he easily managed to keep the last meal he had where it belonged - in his stomach. Now he was eager to get to the next part of the mission. There was a deep, burning need to strike back at the parasitic monsters that were, quite literally, his mortal enemies. And now he had that chance, in a very direct way.
The savage need wasn't very Starfleet of Sarresh. But he imagined his current Klingon hosts understood it perfectly well. He flashed a toothy smile to the Klingon aid - Tavek - who informed him that the hard part of setting up the emitters was done. So much the better.
Sarresh had come up next to Madsen for the moment his gaze flicking from the the controls for the emitter arrays, that had been configured into the desk before the bank of monitors, and watching the displays themselves, as if he could pick out the infested agent visually. The council chamber was the focus of the displays, which seemed perfect to Sarresh. If that agent was going to be present it would be here, in the Great Hall's main chamber. The doors to the chamber opened and a tension that he hadn't realized he'd been holding eased off of his frame. Oh, he was still nearly vibrating with the need to lash out, to hurt their enemy, but the worry he'd been harboring (for the state of the mission, he'd claim) abated at the sight of Martok and Ives.
Familiarizing himself with the set up of the controls for the Anyonic Emitters, Sarresh watched what was unfolding, seeing the response sent back from (he assumed) K'Tal himself. Where the head of house was in the chambers below, Sarresh could not tell. His position was not being readily captured by the sensors. All in all, the former Ash'reem let out a snort. Of course someone would have to stay behind, and that was his job. He tilted his head up and over to look at Lt. Madsen and cocked an eyebrow up, silently asking if it needed to even be said that he'd remain.
Apparently it needed to be said, but he nodded at the woman whom had looked over his shoulder to him, all the same. She was issuing orders, while the drama was unfolding on the screens before them. Squaring off his shoulders, he immediately dismissed the mission lead from his thoughts, focusing entirely instead on his own task. When the moment was right is a matter of debate, he thought, perfectly happy to trigger the emitters now and rid the universe of at least one more troublesome parasite.
However that wouldn't play well with the locals, and he had to take their political game into account. Letting out a sigh of repressed frustration, he began to call up the controls, readying the sequences for a simple toggle activation. The waiting, he knew, would be the hardest part for him. That irony was not lost on him, given he delt with time in all its glory every day. He lacked a certain patience now, ever since he'd come back to this forsaken century.
Ives recording ended. The speech that should have gone out to the galaxy months ago, at Starbase 84. Another of his failures, Sarresh supposed, internalizing the responsibility for the actions of a man he had no desire to have as a 'follower'. That mess still woke him some nights. Though now he had the amusing memory of Samantha's reaction to hearing about his own personal cult to counter some of that guilt. He hoped she appreciated his coming along on this, but time would tell. Having a friend was...difficult.
Time would tell.
It was telling now, on the screen, as a frown passed over his face. "What is she up to?" He asked no one in particular, not really paying attention to whom was left in the room with him, as his eyes tracked Enyd through the crowd, now that she'd arrived. Didn't want to interrupt whatever was going on in the center of the chamber, he guessed. The frown remained in place as he tapped a finger on the console, next to the activation toggle. It sounded important, some blustering between Martok, Gorka, and some woman that looked vaguely familiar. A security chief that had been assigned to Ives' team, Morali realized, as she seemed to (verbally) lash out at Gorka.
And there was Madsen, speaking up, and despite himself, Sarresh let out an amused chortle. "Gorka didn't like that being aired out right in his face," he noted dryly, leaning an elbow on the edge of the desk. He glanced down at the console, to see if the signal had arrived. Before it did, however, Enyd made a bold accusation as ever, accusing Kopek of being infested, drawing attention across the room.
"Oh hell, this isn't going to go well." She was, as far as he could tell, going to get herself killed doing something like that. Why are diplomats so bloody frustrating, he groused. Sure enough, the moment he thought it, things went to hell, and Kopek attacked. He struck out, nearly taking off Madsen's head, though another Stafleet officer he didn't know got in the way. It had to be time. Yes, it needed to play out a bit, but all the same...He began the start up protocols, to narrow down and aquire the proper anyonic variance needed to rid the world of this particular parasite. Despite having memorized the process and the input sequences, it wasn't as easy or quick as he'd like, and he was forcing himself to try and remain calm. Too much haste and it might not work.
Watching a Klingon fight with a clearly broken arm, unbothered, was mildly sickening, but Sarresh couldn't know if that was normal for Klingon's. Would they see it as out of character? Beyond Kopek's abilities? Another figure entered the mix, the cybernetic officer from the Theurgy that Sarresh had seen from time to time on the bridge. Ravenholm, he thought, frowning as the fracas escalated rapidly. It was almost too much to follow, and even the other Klingon's in the room with Sarresh swore oaths right along side him when Ravenholm was snatched out of the air and brutally smashed to the floor below, only to see Kopek light up like a warp core on overload a moment later.
There it was, the trilling, three tone notification, the flashing light. The go signal. Even as Kopek shook off the electric assault, and manhandled an Orion in a Starfleet exo-suit, Sarresh reached out...
Martok surged forward at that moment, even as Sarresh moved from the controls. Everyone was trying to stay between the Klingon Chancellor and the oncoming threat. And of course, Martok instead moved to meet the threat head on. He barked something coarse and goading in his native tongue, something that pulled a smile onto Kopek's face. But even as the other man tossed the Orion aside to face the Chancellor of the Klingon High Council head on with an alien laugh, everything changed.
Beneath the fingertips of Sarresh's right hand, the controls for the Anyonic emitters, strewn throughout the council chamber, had been depressed. The activation sequence queued up. There was a soft hum in K'Tal's office, and a smattering of letters in Klingonese script that scrolled across the main display screen as a light filled the room. Martok watched as the wretch that was Kopek seized up on the spot, and as the light faded, so too did the strength of the Head of the house of Kopek, crumpling before the Chancellor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, an odd reflection of the glow that had suffused the room, lingering in the shell's eyes.
"Huh. So that's what happens," Martok grunted, taking the moment in stride, as he walked forward to kick Kopek onto his back with the toe of his boot.
OOC: Apologies for letting this linger. Couldn't find the post where we see the effect of an anyonic scan on an infested or anything like that so, kinda winged it. Lemme know if that needs updating.
[Lt. J.G Vanya| Crew Quarters |USS Cayuga| April 5 2378]
Michaels and Laskey left Vanya's quarters. As this was an official mission, Vanya went and changed into her uniform. The only missing part was her uniform where her boots. For his part, T'Morrik seemed to be idly looking around her room.
"Thank you for dressing more appropriately Lieutenant." The commander said.
As Vanya sat at her table, she could tell from his bearing that this was more than a security visit. He slid her over a PADD, it showed his credentials.
"Starfleet Security. Its been a while. Was my casual dress enough to get your attention too."
"Lieutenant Vanya." The Vulcan said. "You are doubtless aware that I am not a member of the Cayuga crew, therefore the time it would take to arrive here meant that the orders were issued before your social faux pas/"
A smirk crossed Vanya's lips. Here she was a machine, having a joke with an organic being who apparently had no sense (or patience with) humour.
"What is your business here?" she asked.
"Under the articles of Starfleet Law, this briefing is classified, you may not disclose the contents of this briefing or any subsequent activities relating to same unless ordered to by myself or another person from Starfleet Security. Am I clear?"
Vanya didn't like this.. She was being assigned to a mission, yet she hadn't consented to anything. Nevertheless, she decided that she had to see this out
"Yes Sir." She said.
T'Morrik hit a button his own PADD, and the screen on hers was replaced with a string of Romulan figures.
"I presume you know what this is?" asked the Vulcan.
"I do" said Vanya. "It's the identification code of a Tal Shiar agent. The code appears to be incomplete, but the prefix is..."
She rose from the seat, an obvious sign of her emotional state. She checked it again. "The code appears to be from the unit that created me. But I thought the entire unit was terminated." Vanya never knew if the word "Terminated" was used in the most literal sense. If these readings were to be believed, clearly it wasn't. He hit a button on the PADD and the code was replaced with an image of a battered planetoid.
"This is Planetoid AJ-04X." The Vulcan said. " You may be familiar with the pseudonym 'Traitor's Folly'"
Vanya nodded her head as she said down. Isn't that a stronghold for some Vulcan renegades?" "
T'Morrik nodded. "Over the decades, a number of other races have populated the planet, but are essentially correct. Since the Awakening, there have always been factions of Vulcans that have rejected Surak's teachings, or interpreted them differently than the established doctrine favourited by the Central Command and its successive regimes. The Romulan discovery validated some of those viewpoints in the eyes of these renegades, so a notable faction sought to join the empire. The first ship that went over the Neutral zone was destroyed by the Romulans. As the Federation had made it clear that these were renegades, we could not welcome them back into Federation space - to do so would risk war. So, the remaining four ships built a colony on the most hospitable planetoid in the small slither of unclaimed space near the neutral zone. Since then the colony has become a hive of criminality and decedance."
Vanya knew where this was going. "And this is where the Tal'Shiar signal came from."
"Correct" said T'Morrik. " While Traitor's folly is on our side of the neutral zone, it is not Federation space. To go there openly would give the Romulans every excuse to wage full war. So, you and I will form an extraction team, retrieve the Tal'Shiar asset and return to Federation Space"
Vanya handed the PADD back to the Vulcan
"With all due respect Sir, I am a science officer, not an intelligence agent. Surely there is a more appropriate person who can help."
The Vulcan's gaze remain fixed and steely. "Your time in the Tal Shiar makes you the lead candidate for this mission. Our knowledge of the Tal-Shiar may equal yours, but no one has a better grasp or ability to apply it than you. Further, under the Starfleet code, you are hereby ordered onto this mission. It remains classified and you are probhibted from discussing it on open channel, and as a reminder you are prohibited from discussing it with anyone else, even your superiors am I clear?"
"Perfectly." Said Vanya as she came to the realisation that she didn't like T'Morrik. After she had arrived in the Federation, she had a long lines of security and intelligence officers trying to recruit her into their area. Vanya had refused them all. She had always been interested in how the world worked, and to do that, she was a scientist. Therefore, she had politely but firmly denied each request and stuck to the sciences. Now with a well placed word to some nameless admiral, T'Morrik had apparently undone all that.
"I understand your reluctance Lieutenant However, your skillset is uniquely suited to this mission, which will be just extraction of any assets. We will be gone for a week maximum."
[ Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith"| Shuttle Hangar | USS Oneida] Attn: @P.C. Haring
[Show/Hide]"So, it's already a proven tactic." Logan nodded in affirmation. "Then congratulations on a successful execution. I'm glad the Klingons didn't see through it."
They walked deeper into the hangar, stopping just short of his fighter. The deck crew's maintenance work was in full swing, and on the opposite side Logan could see the Chief of Deck carefully cutting one torpedo after another from the wreckage of his former wingman. For the moment, Logan didn't notice how Reggie's mind seemed to drift. His drifted off as well. Since there wasn't much for the pilots to do now except wait to be allowed back out, he allowed himself the moment of nostalgia. He thought about how he would now tip a beer or two with his little sister. It was then that he abruptly realized he would never have moments like this again. Logan blinked away the tears that were welling up. Somehow, he was pleased that Reggie asked him to tell her more about the fighter.
"Sure, come along." Briefly, Logan introduced Reggie to Alith and then began to tell her.
"This is the product of dozens of engineers from the Advanced Starship Design Bureau. The design was penned by James Knight. He wanted to combine the best of both worlds. The strengths of his Knight-Class Interceptor with the combat power of a Space Superiority Fighter. The result is this gem: the AC-477 Mk I Valravn."
Logan led her around the spacecraft, showing her the key points. Warp nacelles, phaser banks and micro torpedo launchers were part of the basic equipment of this machine and formed a damn good core for everything that was built around it.
"This baby can reach warp 8.2, making it the fastest fighter in the fleet. Unfortunately, there aren't many of them left and even fewer that can actually fly it."
Logan led them up the stairs. Next, he wanted to show Reggie the cockpit, his workplace. He was eager to hear her questions.
[ Lt. Alana Pierce | Cargo Bay Doors Vicinity | Shuttlecraft: USS Rosalind Franklin] | ATTN: @BipSpoon @Stegro88 @Swift @GroundPetrel @stardust | [Show/Hide]
Pierce watched the viewscreen and the diplomatic crew as she paced back and forth awaiting the drop point with bated breath. She felt her heartbeat thumping a little harder than it had in the past. No doubt dealing with the fact this was her first of sorts mission and semi-command since her journey to the 24th century and all the changes it entailed. The coordinates were flagged and a few of them had moments before finished clasping the remaining portions of their protective gear for the jump.
She glanced over the navigator of the shuttlecraft as she nodded and exhaled back to normal breathing patterns. "Alright. This is it. Expect a bumpy ride and if we get separated, rendezvous by the facility to coordinate our plan of attack." Her hand swirled a motion to the crew as it was time to round up by the exit. Despite the danger of it all, the thrill of jumping out of a moving shuttle slightly excited her, but now wasn't the time for that.
Padded fingers tapped a few controls activating a force field behind them to prevent atmospheric pressure from interfering with the flight patterns. Finally, she activated the back door on the Rosalind Franklin. Slowly the door opened which unfortunately didn't open fast enough as they slightly overshot their drop point. Which looking at it, leaving them in a better position to gain access to the facility but also to get caught if they didn't land quietly enough.
Alana was about to jump as someone larger than she took the dive first. She smirked and figured she knew who it was but left it alone. Quickly she took a few steps back and ran forward into the jump that sent her catapulting to the surface. Her thoughts were about the day's events, the attack on the ship, the near-death experience while interviewing the doctor for details on the infested on the Klingon Homeworld. A lot had transpired already and she had added another high-stakes mission to it all. A snicker was stifled as she realized that she'd not yet been on the ship a full 24-hours yet.
As the ground neared, she activated the low-energy thrusters to cushion the descent. Careful not to use it too much to not alert any sensors or listening ears. What appeared to be some brush and a rather large hill seemed to be in her near vicinity as she descended closer. Before finally landing, she let the thrusters deactivate as she took the final landing into a run and a barrel roll behind what had to be the equivalent of a Klingon tree.
Lt. Pierce reached over and tapped her built-in PADD on the arm of her Exo suit. She pulled up the recent specs from the facility as well as her tricorder to scan for the others. She lifted her head from the display and glanced around seeing a few other souls approaching her position. The facility was nearby. Likely a few hundred meters from their current positions. Now all they had to do was get in with minimal contact and extract Fisher.
[ Enyd Isolde Madsen | Academy Mess Hall | Laikan | Andoria ] @Tae
C'Riss wore his mane in an elaborate set of braids that undulated like Medusa's snakes when he moved his head from side to side, his gaze flickering between his companions. Enyd had more than once clenched her fingers into fists to keep from reaching out and touching his mane. She knew her curiosity would not offend the Caitian, he had already allowed her a few "pets" earlier in their acquaintance as peers in the program, but she was at least attempting decorum as they shared a part of the mess hall table with individuals of other races. He was from the mountainous regions of his home planet, and his enormous hands and feet, shorter muzzle, and dark grey pelt could be attributed to this fact. M'Murr, her old roommate on Psi Epsilon III had been from the jungle regions so it was quite a treat for Enyd, the overly inquisitive woman that she was, to work with another member of the Caitian race who was assuredly different from M'Murr in a number of ways, and none of them negative.
His tail curled and looped behind him in the air, drawing Enyd's momentary attention. Sitting beside him afforded her greater opportunity to observe his body language and so far she'd learned that this sort of behavior denoted amusement, and the current quivering of his ears and whiskers was likely attributed to excitement over discussion shared amongst their small group. Enyd forced her eyes away from C'Riss tail back to Yaleya, their Bolian tablemate who was finishing a story from her childhood that a story shared by Dimares, the only Ariolo attending the program, had prompted. When C'Riss let out another growl-like purr of a laugh, Ariolo her own snorting one, in response to Yaleya's dramatic finish, Enyd joined in on the mirth, though she'd allowed her mind to wander completely away from the details and couldn't recall a thing of what Yaleya had shared.
Enyd's gaze moved to Sonik, their Vulcan tablemate, and her mirth sobered a bit. Undoubtedly his mind was still on a discussion they'd had in class earlier regarding roots of cultures and shared traditions. While C'Riss had engaged in the discourse with good humor and a respectful demeanor when it'd been brought up the shared roots of the Caitians with the Kziniti, Sonik had been less than delighted, even for a Vulcan, to likewise engage when the focus had moved to the Vulcans and Romulans. The class had then gone through a diatribe on discussing the "flip side" race, if there was one, for every known race in the galaxy. Dimares had been the one to suggest in good humor that humans were the Romulan/Kzinti version of Betazoids, to which Besul their Betazoid tablemate--not joining them this evening due to a family emergency calling him away from dinner--had nearly snorted out a lung in laughter. Enyd had thought it hilarious, other humans in the class less so.
She was just about to chime in the conversation, an attempt to draw Sonik out of his brooding, when a tap on her shoulder gave her pause. She recognized the letter being held out towards immediately and felt a rush of peace and joy flow through her at the sight. Her eyes traveled past the letter to the letter holder and the warm, fuzzy feelings stopped immediately. It was Lieutenant Tebiath, one of the Andorian instructors, and a real pain in Enyd's arse. It seemed the chan had been gunning at Enyd ever since her arrival and from the look of disgust on Lieutenant Tebiath's face it seemed Enyd had still not won respect in the chan's eyes.
"You will tell Petty officer first class vanVinter you will be unable to send or receive a letter for the remainder of your time on Andoria. If he wishes to communicate with you, it will be through subspace messages only, and even then, you cannot communicate with anyone starting next month because of the blackout operation field tests slated in your training." Lieutenant Tebiath dropped the obviously opened and read letter into Enyd's lap with a sneer. "Such frivolous waste of personnel resources is disgusting."
Behind her, Enyd heard Yaleya murmur something to Dimares about Lieutenant Tebiath's lack of respect for privacy and while Enyd somewhat agreed, seeing the expressions on the lieutenant's face and taking a step back to think about everything else that was happening in the Federation, it made Enyd blush with shame. As much as she enjoyed these letters, it was true what the lieutenant said. Though they were small compared to the grand scheme of freightage moved to and fro, that they were sending letters in such an unstable time did invite ridicule.
"Don't let her judgment cloud your enjoyment," C'Riss laid a warm and heavy hand on her shoulder, drawing Enyd's attention back to the table, "what you are sharing in those letters is not detrimental to the Federation even if it is being shared in an archaic fashion." He purred out a sound of affirmation before letting go of her shoulder and turning back towards the others. "It is quite romantic, really. A correspondence such as yours in this century."
"Illogical as well." Sonik added, earning a thumb in the shoulder from Yaleya and a disapproving snort from Dimares. The Vulcan appeared unruffled by their disapproval.
"Thank you," Enyd nodded to her tablemates and friends. "I think I'll turn in early tonight."
When she read Victor's letter in her quarters later, the earlier sense of shame dissipated and was replaced with delight and tenderness for Victor. Using his gift, Enyd penned her last letter from Andoria to him.
August 4th, 2375
Congratulations Petty Officer 1st Class, Acting Deck Chief, Mister Victor vanVinter!
I know you cannot tell me all of your adventures and near-misses that would lead to an advancement in rank, as I will assume it not just an aged into position but one of merit. I know you will continue to serve with honor and distinguishment.
As to the Utopia Planitia yards on Mars, no I have not yet been there. It is on my ever-growing "must go" list, but that list had to take a backseat while I focused on this program. I'm glad that you'll be on your old stomping grounds for the next few months as a reprieve from whatever it is you've been facing out yonder that rendered you silent for so long. I completely understand, in all truth, and must warn you that this will be my last letter of this sort for the remaining duration of my time on Andoria. They have informed me that next month I'll be going black for a few months on field operations and beyond that I was chastised for the inappropriate usage of personnel and resources in the sending and receiving of archaic letters. I do not mind the dressing down before you seek to rise to my defense. My lieutenant made good points, though she did it out of malice, not to encourage my growth. So most likely you will not hear from me again until I am posted on Earth. Before the lieutenant hand delivered the letter to me in the mess hall, for the explicit purpose of chastising me in front of my tablemates, I had received the subspace version of this but had purposefully waited to read that until I knew for certain if this version would arrive or not. I'm glad that it did, and that was very clever of you to send a subspace copy just in case.
Suffice to say, the lieutenant who reprimanded me would not make an additional comparison between myself and Captain Archer, and I very much can see her point. Growing up, I used to play pretend with the ranch hand's children, often choosing the early days of warp exploration with Captain Archer as our imaginary focus. I saved many lives, stopped many wars, and in general an amazing diplomat in those adventures. We also traveled forward in time in our adventures where we served aboard Captain Pike's Enterprise, and Captain Kirk's as well. I sense a bit of disdain towards Kirk on your part, and I can see why many would feel that way towards the man. I, however, hold no such derision. He was a man of his time and the same with any others who lived in different contexts than my own. I cannot judge them according to my context. That is something that we've had drummed into our heads in more than one course, but truly, that is a concept that my father taught me in my youth.
Oh, about my parents. I never made it clear in prior letters what I meant when I referenced "losing" them, did I? I was eight when my mother went missing in action on some assignment I could never know about, and my father likewise disappeared on assignment when I was thirteen. They both served in Starfleet Intelligence and while they were and still are presumed dead, understanding the nature of Intelligence and the missions those in that branch are ordered to go on, I would not be surprised if either of them were somehow still alive somewhere in a prison camp or still in hiding amongst an unknown enemy. I don't, of course, pine away for them. Admiral Anderson himself forced away my days of waiting by a console for any sort of message from them, or being the first to open the door when someone came to call. In those early years of my father's disappearance, Anderson came by once in a while to check on us. My grandmother never particularly liked him, as she blamed him for both her daughter and son-in-law's disappearances, and she was none too keen on my becoming involved in diplomacy either--more than once threatening to knit Anderson a death shroud if he kept on encouraging my interests in the field. When the Admiral put forward my candidacy for the Academy, my grandmother somehow found a way to visit him and I've no clue what she said to him but the next time he visited the ranch, he brought flowers and chocolates and she no longer threatened death shrouds. Instead, she knitted him horrific looking socks, a new pair every year, and to his credit, every time he visited, he wore the dastardly things.
The person you would meet at my home would be my grandmother then, as she is the head of our household, and runs the ranch as well. As I mentioned before, she is a strong, opinionated woman who should never be underestimated, though she is of small stature. Much like the Earth mythological creatures dwarves, she is of strong mind and body and when she has made up both mind and body, it will take an army to move her. I don't share that to scare you, dearest Mister vanVinter, but as an insight into why she may respond to you as she does. She does not dote on me, and she's made her peace about my being a part of Starfleet. But she may not show the warmest welcome from the start to anyone I dare to bring home to meet her. Any further risk to moving her the only living part of her daughter away will not be accepted easily.
Thank you for sharing your experiences and perspective on the concept of romance and physical intimacy. While I am far from experienced, I've been on a grand total of two dates, and have been kissed...never...I know for a fact that I am heterosexual and that I do have physical desires. The lack of physical intimacy shared with others has mostly been out of my other abilities to confuse others and create chaos, as you're very well aware of my abilities to do so. It is never intentional, but it seems the fates are against my physical desires, and any time a situation has built to a point where I could finally share in what you call "carnal actions," something outlandishly ridiculous has occurred, and typically as a consequence of something I innocently said or did leading up to that moment.
With that said, I would never ask you to go beyond what you feel comfortable offering. If ours is to be a shared love of minds and hearts, but not of body, then that is what I accept. I cannot assure you, however, that will always be enough for me. I am no Orion with an interminable appetite, well at least I don't think I am, but I know myself well enough to know that when I envision a life shared with someone it is a sharing of all aspects of who I am, my mind, my heart, and my body. I am not certain if you would be interested or willing to share that part of me with someone else, I'm uncertain you've ever thought of that, same as I've never quite thought of what it would mean to love one man with my mind and heart, and another with that and my body as well. This is a new concept to ponder for me as well. Perhaps it is something best discussed in person when we meet on Earth?
I should be at the Academy by late January of next year at the earliest, but cannot guarantee my availability for visitors until I've had a chance to settle. I will write to you again when I am able. And until that time I hope you receive this letter in the bravest of spirits, the healthiest of body, and the greatest peace of mind knowing that wherever you go in this wide galaxy, you have my love and my friendship.
With love, hope, and affection,
Enyd Isolde Madsen
[ Ens. K'Ren | Cockpit | AC-307 Mark-II Valkyrie, Gryphon-class "Hellcat" ]
"Weird riding backseat again but I'll manage Salvo," K'Ren remarked as she finished configuring her screens. Without having to focus on flying, many of the navigation displays she'd have called up she pushed off to one side, focusing instead on the quasi holographic view of the 360 degree space around the craft. Between the console in from of her and the augmented reality of the helmet, she just had to keep her head on a swivel and her mind on the situation, and with a little luck she'd make this mission without incident. She also knew she had to remain in the present, not let the fog of the madness take hold, a fit in a bad moment could cost her the life of not only herself, but Salvo, the Wolves, Theurgy, and countless others she couldn't fathom. It seemed the fate of the galaxy rode on her shoulders and her sanity, the blood on her paws would be unbalanceable if she failed. "You'll be the first to know, trust me, you'll be the first to know."
Neko nodded, "Running Scans Salvo. Nothing we can't see, a few items tagged on the sensors, feeding to your display." She softly purred through the work, glad for the distraction, and in the relative peace before the storm, she could focus on her sensors, looking around, keeping their tail, and their nose clear until the combat began. "I have power controls on automatic, override close at hand." She grinned, "Forgot how much the back seat micromanages the fighter." Micromanage, and for now as they moved into position, wait for the fight to start. Not that she jad long as they were quickly in the target area, and once the warbird began to decloak, it would all change, most likely for the worse. And most warbirds carried the Stalker fighters, which in good hands were a match for the Wolves. She wondered how many would fall, before pushing the thought away from mind. She needed to focus on the now.