Skip to main content
Topic: PRO: S [D05|2330] A Glimpse of the Past (Read 3116 times) previous topic - next topic
0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

PRO: S [D05|2330] A Glimpse of the Past

Prologue: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2330 hrs. ] A Glimpse of the Past

[ Lt. Cross | Day 5 | 2330 hrs. | Maintenance Bays | Precept-Ship Versant ] Attn: @Stegro88

As Cross has looked over the black supply boxes and retrieved his own package containing an infiltration suit and a meal, he had caught sight of another name that was familiar to him. While the bearer of said name was not someone he was overly familiar with, Cross at least knew who she was, recognizing the name of a fellow survivor of the USS Endeavour.

Petty Officer 1st Class Mickayla MacGregor.

She was a security officer, one of Kai’s people. Or had been one of Kai’s people. The fact that Kai was almost certainly dead made being one of his people rather difficult at this point. That thought caused a bitter taste to rise in Cross’ mouth, and a scowl crept back across his features for a moment before he once again schooled his features to a more neutral expression. The last thing he needed to do was give anyone the wrong idea by stalking up to them with a scowl plastered across his features.

Cross moved off through the maintenance bay, his eyes scanning those assembled in the space as he moved through the crowd. There were dozens of people currently in the bays, the vast majority of whom were not familiar to him. Even those who were familiar were difficult to pick out following the corrections they’d undergone at the hands of the Savi. For some, the corrections had had minimal effect on their appearance, while for others the change in appearance was quite drastic. Cross’ own physical appearance had not changed significantly, the only differences being the loss of his Bajoran nasal ridges and the alteration of his eyebrows to be more in line with the thick, pronounced eyebrows that were common among Vulcans.

God I hate these eyebrows… Cross thought bitterly as he moved slowly through the crowd, still scanning for any sign of PO MacGregor.

Cross couldn’t be sure what had possessed him to pick up the woman’s black supply box and bring it to her. Perhaps the idea was born out of a sense of loss, or from the idea that MacGregor was somehow a connection to his now deceased best friend. Either way, the undertaking was proving to be more difficult that Cross had anticipated. He knew that PO MacGregor had been half Human and half Klingon prior to being captured by the Savi, but had no way of knowing what correction the Savi had undertaken with her. Correction in either direction would most likely result in a drastic change in physical appearance, and would most likely have left her difficult to recognize. Cross reflected on this fact as he passed a female abductee who appeared Human, and around the right age, but had blonde hair and skin paler than Cross remembered MacGregor’s bring. Cross was sure that wasn’t the Petty Officer he sought, and so he put the blonde woman out of his mind and continued on his way.

Cross had been about to give up on his hunt for MacGregor when he saw something, or rather someone, curled up in the corner of the maintenance bay, half hidden in the dim gloom that permeated the bay. From what he remembered of PO MacGregor, the skin tone and hair colour looked right, though he was seeing a good deal more of the woman’s skin than he was used to.

As Cross approached, he could clearly see that the person before him was naked, and obviously female. He could tell little more from his current vantage, standing several meters away. He stooped and placed his own box on the floor before cautiously proceeding forward, inching closer. The woman had her knees pulled up to her chest, and her arms wrapped around her legs, leaving her looking like a humanoid ball while covering her more sensitive areas from view. He face was buried in her knees, which left only a mass of wavy dark brown hair visible and made it impossible to see her face, though Cross was fairly certain this was to woman he had been looking for.

”Petty Officer MacGregor?” Cross spoke softly, crouching down next to the curled up mass of limbs. ”It’s Lieutenant Cross. I…” Cross hesitated, not knowing what sort of state MacGregor was in. ”I brought you your supply box. It has food…” Cross hesitated again, his eyes staying focused on the mass of wavy hair so as not to run over the naked skin of the woman’s limbs and torso. ”And clothing. An infiltration suit.” Cross still held the box that contained the things he had mentioned, the one which bore her name. He held the package on his left hand, partially held out for her to take.

”Are you alright, MacGregor?” Cross asked, concern creeping into his voice as he slowly reached out with his right hand and gently placed it on her bare shoulder. He moved slowly out of both an uncertainty as to how she would react, and his own hesitations, having never been entirely comfortable dealing with females, especially naked ones. ”Mickayla…”

Re: Prologue: Supplemental [ Day 5 | 2330 hrs. ] A Glimpse of the Past

Reply #1
Please be advised that the following post contains suicidal themes and comes with a trigger warning. Read at your own discretion.

[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Maintenance Bays | The Versant ] Attn: @Fife

Why couldn’t it be over? That voice, it had said they were to be recycled. Her misery would have been over. Her pain gone. The memories in her head rendered to nothing. But he had lied. Instead they were transported here; wherever here was. Mickayla heard the others talking, looking around, greeting each other. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Instead, she found the darkest corner of the bay and slumped into it, drawing her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around them. Burying her face into her knees caused her hair, what was left of it, to sprawl up and over her head, hiding her face from view completely. And there she planned to stay. But it was not to be.

Hearing the distinctive sound of a transporter didn’t even cause Mickayla to move, stuck in her own mind as much as she was, nor the building commotion that the transporter had caused. Someone or something had been transported in but Mickayla paid it no heed. After everything she had been through with the Borg, her time in the escape pod drifting and then, finally, here on this ship and everything they had done to her, had taken from her, she just wanted it to stop. Maybe when everyone fell asleep she should go find something sharp. Faint approaching footsteps intruded on her solitude but Mickayla tried to ignore them. If she did, maybe they would go away.

“Petty Officer MacGregor?” asked a voice that seemed oddly familiar. It was like she had heard it before but couldn’t place it. It was a male’s but that was all she could tell. “It’s Lieutenant Cross. I...” it, Cross continued and Mickayla understood who was next to her. It was the Endeavour’s Chief Tactical Officer. The man was a Bajoran-Vulcan hybrid, or at least he used to be. She wasn’t looking up to find out. “I brought you your supply box. It has food...” he explained, pausing for some reason before he went on. “And clothing. An infiltration suit.” Right, she was naked. Not that it mattered. She had been naked since the day she woke up on this ship. She had never been especially prudish about her body and now... well, it wasn’t her body anyway anymore. “Are you alright, MacGregor?” the Lieutenant asked her, his voice now tinged with concern.

"Probably due to my unresponsiveness,” Mickayala considered as another thought struck her. “MacGregor. Not anymore. That has been stolen from me.” Before her mind could run off again, a warm hand on her bare shoulder diverted it.

“Mickayla...” Cross said again and she had to fight every impulse in her body not to snatch his hand from her skin and tear his arm off. She could probably do that now. Maybe. She didn’t want to think about it.

“No Sir,” Mickayla said firmly in a low voice overflowing with anger and rage; lifting her head slowly until she could barely see the Lieutenant past her eyebrows. She knew that in that position, even with he draped hair, the appearance of her now fully Klingon sagittal crest would be clearly visible. As it was, she noticed that the lieutenant had lost his Bajoran characteristics. He had been ‘corrected’ same as herself. “I am far from alright.”

Re: Prologue: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2330 hrs. ] A Glimpse of the Past

Reply #2
[ Lt. Cross | Day 5 | 2330 hrs. | Maintenance Bays | Precept-Ship Versant ]

To say Cross felt awkward and uncomfortable would have been an understatement of epic proportions. He felt uncomfortable speaking to females who were fully clothed and emotionally stable. He felt awkward during general social interactions. Truth be told, Cross felt uneasy in most situation and around most people outside of performing his duties, save for a few individuals.

At present, Cross felt that he was floundering helplessly in a situation he wasn’t equipped to handle.

MacGregor had lifted her head only a little, her eyes barely visible through her eyebrows. Cross couldn’t make out much of the Petty Officer’s emotion in the partially obscured eyes, but what he could see, coupled with the woman’s body language, told him to tread lightly.

”No sir.” She said, her tone full of barely-held rage. ”I am far from alright.”

Easy Cross… Cross thought, keeping his face neutral. She was obviously conflicted, barely keeping herself together. The sagittal crests that were now in plain view made it clear that the Savi had corrected her to full Klingon. Based on his own internal battle with the increased rage that had come with his correction to pure Vulcan, he could imagine that her own struggle with the Klingon aggression would be formidable, though he suspected there was more at play in the current situation than just rage.

I really don’t need to fight a second Klingon today… Cross thought to himself. He removed his hand from her shoulder and shifted his weight from the balls of his feet to the heels, then let himself roll backwards onto his rump. He folded his legs beneath him and placed her supply box on the floor beside him. Cross sat there regarding Mickayla calmly for a moment before he spoke.

”You don’t need to call me “sir”.” Cross informed her in a quiet voice, his tone calm and even. ”I don’t know the names or ranks of most of the people here, and until we’re off this <fucking> ship we’re all pretty much on equal footing.” The Vulcan placed his hands on his knees, looking at though he might close his eyes and start meditating at any moment, though in reality it was just a posture that Cross found comfortable. Cross remained silent for a long moment, considering his words.

”Whatever you’re feeling, you aren’t alone.” Cross said finally, still using a quiet tone, hoping it come across as calming. Cross remained silent for another moment, inwardly cursing himself before adding. ”I guess what I’m saying is… I’m here… if you want to talk.”

Even to Cross’ own ears, the words sounded weak. The simple fact of the matter was, Cross had been in a constant battle with his own emotions even before being corrected. He was hardly the ideal person to discuss someone else’s emotions, though he had sought Mickayla out, and so he felt he had to at least try to reach out to her. He reached up with one hand and absently scratched his cheek, causing some of the dried green blood that was smeared across his face to flake off and flutter down onto his black-clad lap. He winced as he noticed the falling flecks of blood, the movement of his facial muscles causing pain to flair in his broken nose.

OOC: Cross has the habit of swearing in Cardassian. It's his first language.

Re: Prologue: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2330 hrs. ] A Glimpse of the Past

Reply #3
[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Maintenance Bays | The Versant ] Attn: @Fife

Talk. No, she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to die. Death would be a welcome reprieve from what had been done to her. In a moment irony, Mickayla considered that even assimilation by the Borg was preferable to what she had experienced. Which was saying a lot considering that she had fought the Borg, including assimilated former crewmembers, even friends, in the past while aboard the USS Enterprise-E. Not that she could speak about it. 

“Temporal Prime Directive and all that. And the Department of Temporal Investigations. What a waste of time that was,” Mickayla considered silently. “But assimilation; at least I wouldn’t feel anything then,” she lamented thoughtfully. She watched as Cross scratched his cheek and realised that he had green blood smeared across his face. And his nose was broken.

“Thank you for the consideration, sir,” Mickayla replied softly to the crouched Vulcan before her. “But unless you can undo what was done to me and remove the memories I have of it being done, then it doesn’t help. I just want it to be over. I don’t want to feel this way. Assimilation is better than this,” Mickayla uttered, voicing her previous thought aloud. “Or death. Death is good too.”

Re: Prologue: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2330 hrs. ] A Glimpse of the Past

Reply #4
[ Lt. Cross | Day 5 | 2330 hrs. | Maintenance Bays | Precept-Ship Versant ] @Stegro88

Cross regarded the woman in front of him with a neutral expression. As she spoke, voicing the thoughts that assimilation or death would be better than her current circumstances, Cross couldn’t help but see his old self reflected in the woman. The sensation was eerie, to say the least, as it was rare that Cross was able to relate to anyone.

”I thought like that once…” Cross admitted in a quiet voice, his words barely audible. He remained silent for a long moment, his eyes cast downwards as memories flashed through his mind, then sighed and spoke again. ”I understand that feeling all too well, MacGregor.” He told her as he raised his gaze to meet hers once more. ”I was born in a Cardassian prison camp, the result of an… experiment. I spent the better part of the next twenty years being tested, experimented on and tortured. When I was finally liberated by Starfleet, they put me on suicide watch for fear that the experience would cause me to end my life.” Cross held her gaze, his eyes holding no hint of emotion, pity or otherwise. Pity would do nothing for MacGregor at the moment. In the back of his mind, Cross was surprised to find he no longer battled with his anger, a small miracle given the topic. ”I’m not going to tell you it gets better. Anyone who does is lying to you. But you learn to deal with it.” Cross glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the maintenance bay, at the mass of people milling about, looking lost, scared, confused. Looking stricken… looking violated.

Cross turned his attention back to the woman in front of him, feeling awkward as he forged on. ”I’m not trying to say what you experienced is any less than what I or any of the others have gone through. And I don’t intend this as a lecture,” he told her, ”but right now you have to make a choice. You can let the experience and defeat you, or you can let it fuel you in the fight to come.” Cross held her gaze as he spoke, his unblinking pale blue eyes seeming to bore into the woman’s green gaze. Cross was once again feeling awkward. He wasn’t used to being the one trying to give hope to someone in MacGregor’s position. Cross considered going to find R’Rori, though he wasn’t sure Mickayla would want a counsellor. She hadn’t sought one out, and he knew his own feelings about counselling, having dealt with enough of it during his rehabilitation. And so he waited, remaining still, and waited for her to speak.

Re: Prologue: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2330 hrs. ] A Glimpse of the Past

Reply #5
[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Maintenance Bays | The Versant ] Attn: @Fife

A choice. This had all started with a choice. She had been asked if she wished to be corrected to Human or Klingon. It hadn’t even been a hard choice. Her Klingon side had always been an anchor holding her back. So she had chosen to be rid of it. But instead, everything that made her who she was, her human side, had been stolen from her. And everything after that had been without a choice.

On the Enterprise-D, she had hidden away. She’d known it was a simulation, should have helped the others with their plans, but she couldn’t. It was all too much. She’d given up. She’d given up.

“S’rioghal Mo Dhream,” Mickayla whispered. If her ancestors had given up, the clan would have perished long ago. No, they had persevered. And so would she. For her clan. Who knew, maybe someone could reverse her blood.

Standing up from where she had cowered, Mickayla rolled on the balls of her feet as she cracked her back to straighten it out. She didn’t realise the position that this put her naked body in in relation to Cross who was in front of her still. Finishing a stretch, Mickayla crouched down and began to open the box so as to get at the suit that was inside it.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Mickayla said softly to the now Vulcan officer. “I will think about what you have said.”

Re: Prologue: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2330 hrs. ] A Glimpse of the Past

Reply #6
[ Lt. Cross | Day 5 | 2330 hrs. | Maintenance Bays | Precept-Ship Versant ] @Stegro88

Cross watched as Mickayla remained still for a moment, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. He could understand that she’d have a lot to process, given his own previous experience. Finally, Mickayla whispered something in a language Cross didn’t understand, and seemed to gather herself together finally. Cross unfolded his legs from beneath him, pushing himself up onto one knee in preparation to rise to his feet. He froze as Mickayla rose to her feet.

Keeping her weight on the balls of her feet, the Klingon woman straightened and cracked her back, arching her back slightly as she stretched. From Cross’ vantage, still on one knee, he had a full frontal view to the woman’s form as she stretched. The slight arching of her back, coupled with how she rolled her neck, caused the woman’s wild mane of hair to fall clear, leaving him an unobstructed view of the woman’s mocha skin. A great deal of mocha skin. Mickayla seemed unaware of the view she was affording him, and for his part Cross found himself unable to speak or take his eyes off of the woman’s frame as the usual wave of awkward uncertainty came over him. A new development, however, was the unusual feeling of desire Cross felt, though he quickly pushed the sensation down into the depths of his mind. His mouth seemed to have gone dry, and he felt the heat rising in his face and neck, no doubt accompanied by an obvious green colouring.

As she finished stretching, Mickayla crouched to open the box Cross had brought for her. Cross finally managed to avert his eyes and rise to his feet, clearing his throat uncomfortably as he did so.

”Thank you, Lieutenant” Mickayla spoke softly as she addressed him, still not seeming to realize the display she had put on. Or perhaps she had, and just didn’t care. Cross was hardly about to ask her which was the case. ”I will think about what you have said.”

”Don’t thank me, MacGregor,” Cross said, the dryness in his mouth causing his words to sound strange, ”not until we’re off this <fucking> ship, anyway.” He added, clearing his throat again.

Fuck Cross, He chastised himself, though with a certain sense of humour about it, after everything you’ve been through, not to mention the situation you’re in, you’re still scared and awkward around a naked woman. Bloody fool…

”I’ll leave you to uh… dress.” Cross said, making an effort to avert his eyes, looking at anything but the naked Klingon woman in front of him, ”If you need anything… If you need to talk…” Cross cursed inwardly again at his idiotic awkwardness, ”I’m here if you need anything.”


Simple Audio Video Embedder