Star Trek: Theurgy

[Zyrao Natauna | Called to Action | Meeting the New Guy | Surprises Abound]
@Number6




Zyrao Natauna was gearing up, quite quickly, for what needed to be done.  It wouldn't be long before they left Aldea.  Her leave had been full of various excitement, sadness, surprise, and other events.  However, now she was focused back on work and knowing that she had little time to do what was necessary to get the ship ready.  She and Martok were speaking daily about the various states between the Theurgy and his own crew.  Trying to configure the plans for the future and how they would be communicating.  It was Zyrao's job to relay the information from Ives to Martok and back again.  It would be a stressful and sometimes complicated job but she knew that it would be rewarding and she did not have to turn her back on Martok.  A Klingon that she admired and respected even if his son would have been the runt of the litter in any other terms. 

In fact, she had only just finished another video call with Martok the harsh Klingon language on her tongue still as she finished it up.  She was still very used to conversing in Klingon, it had been her home and her language for a decade.  Her Standard was coming along well, Zyrao had thrown herself quickly into learning the language because she wanted to make sure she understood what was being said around her.  She had a gift for languages, being able to speak many, and Standard was just another one to add to her collection.  She had her personal PADD in El-aurian because few could read that which kept it all very personal and for her eyes only.  Her work PADD was in Klingon as was her console because it was commonplace and she didn't want to lose her Klingon prowess.

Running a hand down her face, the tattooed woman looked down at the screen built into the top of her desk and sighed.  She was tired, but not because of her recent break up, or rather that had been two weeks ago.  It was just because she was put into over drive now that they were preparing for launch.  She didn't have to help the Theurgy prepare over much but she was the liaison and so anything that Martok was preparing Ives needed to know and it went both ways.  She was consistently being bombarded with various messages from both sides of things to make sure that everyone was on the same boat and aware of what was going on. 

A quiet ping signaled another message and Zyrao fought back a groan of disbelief.  Opening her eyes she tapped on the blinking icon and opened it.  Only it wasn't from Ives or Martok it was from another source all together.  It was from a Junior Lieutenant Foval.  New name. she thought to herself, she didn't immediately identify him as Vulcan though it was likely considering his singular name, she wasn't going to pass judgment on that just yet.  It was a message to come meet him, he was new on the ship, and wished to reach out to all the people he might be working with in order to get to know them. 

Idle chatter... something I despise.

She sighed softly, it was one of the things she appreciated most about the First Officer.  When he visited her office for a chat, there were drinks served they got to the point, got through it, and he left.  There was no time to talk about relationships or past ships or anything else. It was a business relationship where they both mutually respected each other and got on with their days.  She could only hope that the world was full of more people like this however she tended to find that was not the case.  Many people liked to think of themselves as verbose and in need of companionship all the time.  However, Zyrao had to admit she felt a bit more lonely now that Thomas and she had decided that friends suited them far better than a full relationship.  She quickly penned back a message stating she was on her way.

Rising she thought about pulling her jacket on to mask the tattoos that ran up her neck, down her arms, and disappeared underneath the black tank top that she wore but thought better of it.  She was not a full officer, and didn't need to worry about modesty.  She was dressed, that was enough.  She collected her PADD, put it in her pocket, and headed out.  On her left breast was the House Martok symbol next to the Starfleet combadge.  They were both level and equal since she represented both, she hoped that showing them as equal on her person would help put out the message she felt was key here.  It wasn't a far distance from where she was to the meeting place that the Junior Lieutenant had asked her to meet him in. 

“You summoned.” she said, her El-Aurian accent coloring her Standard rather heavily in a positive way.  El-Aurian was a lovely fluid language that tended to be more melodious at times.  She didn't mind the accent and refused to endeavor to rid herself of it.

“Apologies, I'm Zyrao Natauna, Klingon Liaison.” she said holding out her hand for the man, though when she looked at his face, her entire body froze.  She knew exactly.. what she was dealing with, and her stomach fell through her body and to the floor immediately.

[Foval | Building Relationships | Avoiding Situations Tomorrow | Causing Situations Today]
attn: @BZ

Foval sat in his quarters reviewing the ship’s manifest.  He noted that there was a significant civilian presence on the Theurgy, and this filled him with a mixture of relief and angst.  On one hand, the civilian presence was further proof that Theurgy wasn’t a dictatorship, but loyal to the Federation’s ideals.  On the other hand, his status as an ex Borg might cause anxiety amongst them.  Starfleet officers were trained to “leave prejudices in their quarters” however, the same wasn’t necessarily the case for civilians. 

He decided the best thing to do was to make himself known to them, particularly the ones he was likely to work with.  He saw that there was a civilian that acted as a liaison to the Klingons.    He thought that there was a chance that he would work with this Zyao.  He arranged for a meeting with her in the mess hall. 

He thought carefully about what to wear to the meeting.  For an ex-drone like him, there were multiple things to consider – to wear his uniform, or something civilian?  If he went for something civilian, should he choose something with a long enough sleeve to conceal his hand?  Realising that it was a moot point – he didn’t bring any civilian wear, and didn’t have enough time to design something, he changed into a fresh uniform and headed for the mess hall. 

He sat at a table, resting his prosthetic hand under the table, whilst pretending to revew a pad that was on the table.  While he had a few stares as he entered, his Borg nature wouldn’t be evident to anyone who entered. 

As he waited for doubt to creep in, he did wonder if he had made a mistake in coming here.  He had spent ten years isolated from the Federation, now he had willingly gone for isolation again. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice that made him look up. 

“You summoned?”  there was something familiar about the accent.  It wasn’t one that Foval could recall from his own life, so he checked it against the remnant of Borg information in his head as he looked from his PADD. 
"Apologies, I'm Zyrao Natauna, Klingon Liaison." He was able to identify her accent.  However he didn’t need to.  The haunted expression in her grey eyes.    The script tattooed on her knuckles confirmed it.  The Borg had committed great crimes in the Alpha Quadrant.  However, former Borg like him were lucky.  Yes, the Borg had assimilated thousands, but he was unlikely to meet anyone from races they had wiped out. 

With one exception.  El-Aurians. 

He kept his good hand on the table, stretched out.  “My name his Foval.” He said.  He struggled for the right thing to say.    “I…  recongise that you are El Aurian.  Further, I acknowledge that my former Borg status did not register with you until just now.  You do not have to shake my hand.  However I am at your service.”   

[Zyrao Natauna | Face to Face | Enemies on Board | What Was Ives Thinking | Be Logical, Zyrao]
@Number6




He was Borg.

She knew, he wasn't a real Borg.  Or rather, he wasn't still an active one or he wouldn't be here.  He was missing the pallid skin tone, the other hoses and other customary accessories that would come with being a fully assimilated Borg.  She had heard, in her time on board, that people could be pulled back from Borg, it was rare, and hard, but it was possible.  Her eyes bore into his.  She found that her lungs continued to pull air from the room around her and yet her chest felt infinitely tighter. 

Zyrao knew that she needed to sit down, and play it cool.  She had helped eradicate the Borg, or at least fight them, not only on her planet but here when the Theurgy had run into them itself.  Still, to see one sitting there, one she would be working alongside, and one that was obviously cured.. played havoc with her senses and her thoughts.  It fucked with her emotions and threw her back onto the planet where she had come from, where she had run after fighting, watching people die or be assimilated.  She had witnessed her friends, her love, her family... everyone was gone. 

Then, that didn't even account for the horrors written in the scars and tattoos across her body and back.  What had happened after they fled was untold pain.  There were days in the darkness she had wished for death, had thought perhaps death would have been better than the life she had been dealt.  Of course Zyrao was strong she had survived untold years and continued on forging a place for herself in the universe.  However, every person had their dark days and even Zyrao, beaten, bloody, whipped, and sore from a fresh tattoo had lay in the dirt on her cell floor and thought about the peace of death.

He looked up at her, and she was certain that her thoughts were written all over her face.  He kept his hand on the table stretched out between them, but told her that she did not have to shake it if she didn't want to.  He understood.  His name was Foval, and she could tell that he was Vulcan, or at least part of him was Vulcan.  She wasn't too sure how much of you came back when the Borg pieces were dormant and you were brought back more to the flesh side again.  He told her that he was at her service and had figured out that she was El-Aurian. 

A soft El-Aurian curse escaped her lips.  For a moment, Zyrao let her arm fall limp to her side.  She blinked and looked off over his shoulder for a moment.  Grey eyes staring off into space as she collected herself.  She could not stand here and be who she was while letting herself be schooled by her emotions.  Part of her wanted to let the red take over, let the red rage that had attacked Lillee's face come over her and there would be no Thomas to stop her this time.  She could get justice, even for a moment, for all the lives lost due to the man sitting at the table like nothing happened.  And yet, his voice continued to play in her mind making her feel as though he understood where she was coming from and at least on some level seemed repentant. 

Have you not cast your crown in mistaken places as well, Natauna. she chastised herself before her eyes switched back to Foval.  “Don't be ridiculous.” she said shaking her head, holding out her hand again letting them shake hands, even though it was taking all of her will power not to use her other hand to smash that metallic plate further into his skull.

“You're right.” she said as she kicked a chair out from under the table with her black combat boot and sat down across from him.  The woman was heavily tattooed, on her neck, hands, arms, chest, and leading underneath the tank top that she wore.  There were even small signs of significant scarring across her back as some of the lash marks made it up to the top of her shoulders.  Zyrao let out a long slow breath for a moment.  She was going to do this, she would conquer this conversation, because if she was to work with this man, she needed to put her past behind her.  “I did not know you were previously a Borg before I saw you.  I apologize if my reactions offended you however, one hopes you can understand.”

She brushed her thumb across her lower lip studying the man a moment from across the table.  Zyrao had a very analytical mind and she was always thinking about tactics, strategies, and work.  This had brought her to a place she had left behind her along time ago, and it was not going to be easy to sit here and have a conversation with a man that could have marched across her planet destroying her people.  If he hadn't done so personally, he probably had intel about when it had happened anyway.  Grey sharp eyes bore into his for a long moment before she realized she was staring.

“So, what can I do for you today, Lieutenant?”

[Lt. JG Foval| Opening mouth| Inserting Foot | Maybe you should stop talking] attn @bz

As he shook her hand, did he feel something?  A  hint of connection?  He quickly decided against it.  Every Vulcan doctor had told him that his telepathy was gone.  Simply put it was like telling a blind person that their missing eyes would grow back.  He had taken once last desparate attempt to regain what he lost in the Briar Patch, and the results hadn’t been successful.    He would never e able to meld. 

He looked at her again.  How could he be so blind, so limited in his viewpoint?   

"So, what can I do for you today, Lieutenant?"

“You can start by forgiving me my pride.  My arrogance.”  He took a deep breath.  “I apologise.  Despite my own past, I  made the assumption that every civilian on a Starfleet ship is a go getter out for the adventure from a comfortable homeworld and has never known hardship.  That they just need to know that they will be protected by the brave officers in the pretty-“ he realised that he was on a tangent again.  That both his real and artificial hand her above the table.   

“I  wished to introduce myself to the civilian  personnel in an informal setting.”  He said at last.  “In order to prepare them  for the time when they may be required to work with me, or even see me from afar.  As if civilians needed shielding from the dark places in the world.“ 

Looking upon her, he could tell there was strength.  How many of her tattoos were elected, or thrust upon her?  What stories did they tell?    He briefly entertained the notion of getting to know this person more.  Possibly even away from the arena of duty.  . 

“However, if I may be bold, I know nothing of your past, but the quiet strength you do have…  I’ll wager you’ve had nights that would leave some Starship Captains screaming for their preferred childhood caregiver. “

[Zyrao Natauna – Klingon Liaison | Get Past It | You're Stronger Than Your Past | You Will Not be Defined by This Moment]
@Number6




Zyrao looked across the table at the man.  He had one original hand and one that was metallic, and more like a hook than a hand.  She was curious the story behind such a thing, and yet, she wasn't about to ask just yet.  They weren't close enough to get into body dismemberment stories, or were they?  He told her that he wished that she would forgive his arrogance and pride.  Her dark brow show up into her hair line for a moment because she was surprised at this sudden turn of events.  She had no idea where he was going with this so she kept silent.  To surprise a tactician was not an easy feat but she supposed he had the high ground because he had thrown her off guard being that he was ex-Borg.  He told her that despite his own past he had assumed that the civilians on a Starfleet ship had lived a life of luxury on comfortable home worlds and had never known hardship. 

The El-Aurian studied him carefully, was he shitting her right now?  She didn't think so.  The tone of his voice, the way that he spoke, and his eyes, told her that what he said was heartfelt.  She took a deep breath and thought about how to respond to that.  “I suppose I should be satisfied having altered your view of civilians.” she stated matter of factly, but she was a bit guarded as she didn't know where this conversation was going just yet.

Foval went on to state he wished to introduce himself to civilian personnel in an informal settling.  She gave a nod, the mess hall was about as informal as it got unless he wanted a round of drinks at the Whetstone and she highly doubted he could drink her under the table.  Even with his Vulcan metabolism.  He wanted to prepare the civilians for working with him, even from afar, so that they understood when he looked like and that civilians would need shielding from some of the darker parts of the universe.  She snorted a bit, and her lips quirked in a slight smirk.

“I'm many things, Lieutenant but a wilted flower is not one of them.” she confessed.

He was about to be bold, apparently, and went on to talk about her quiet strength.  That he could imagine she had some horrendous life stories to tell things that lesser officers and even Starfleet Captains might balk at.  Her brow rose, as she sighed, and thought about what she would wish to tell him.  She certainly didn't want him to feel attacked and yet, the Borg were the start of all her misery.  They were the seed that had become the bloom of a life bound in pain and hardship.  One that she would never forget. 

“You know my origins.  The Borg eradicated my home world.  I need not describe the atrocities that took place on the surface of a home that I can no longer visit.  It was then that I and a few other escaped on a small shuttle bound for any space not inhabited by the Borg.  Picked up along the way I moved from slave camp to slave camp, from race to race, from demeaning job to demeaning job.  Forced to fight for my life, forced to bare the marks of such a life on my skin every day for the rest of my very. Long. Life.” she stated firmly, there was no anger in her voice, it was very matter of fact, but the emotions in her grey eyes showed the level of ache.

“The freedom I have now, I fought for and won.  Though things I would rather not discuss, and ways that I would rather not repeat.  I lived and worked with and as a Klingon for the last decade of my life.  This is why the Captain has asked me to the be the Liaison.” she said as her body relaxed slightly and she let some of the tension bleed out of her shoulders.  Shifting in her seat to get more comfortable.

“I'm curious, since we are playing a game of Hard Truths.” she said with another one of her tell tale smirks.  “How did you free yourself from the collective and regain your mind?”

[Lt. J.G Foval| Echoes of the past | Still some secrets buried | The hunt for common ground]
@BZ
He tried not to feel guilt of course, but he couldn’t.   The Borg destroyed the El-Aurians decades before he was born, let alone assimilated.   And yet, she showed strength as she  demonstrated her loyalty to the Captain.   He had the respect of some, such as Admiral Anderson, but could he ever inspire anyone to truly care about him.   He did wonder.  

“I am unsure precisely how it happened.” He said, beginning his story   “The Borg Sphere I was on was in a transwarp conduit, on a mission to  position on the end of the Alpha quadrant.   A subspace tear intersected with the conduit, some if us wondered if it was a natural anomaly, a freak occurrence.   Others wondered if it was an experiment that just had an impact in the wrong place at the wrong time.   We managed to drop out of the conduit, if we weren’t a hive mind that could adapt, we’d have been destroyed.   As it was, we were just severely damaged.    The power distribution overloaded, killing a third of our compliment, and damaging the ships systems.  We crashed on on the edge of the quadrant.”  

He remembered the cark days of his arrival.  When he realised he would never truly be the person he was before he was assimilated.    He decided to try to make life better for those that could.  

“We fell into two camps.   Those of us who wanted to go home, and those who wanted a return to the collective.  However our “diverse” faction started to have bickering and in fighting as the old rivalries between Klingon and Romulan, Human and Cardassian, started to present themselves.   I was often called upon to settle these disputes.   Eventually I was able to establish a truce with some of the tribes on the other side.   Finally, the Heracles found us, and I was taken home.”  

That wasn’t the whole truth of course.   He doubted he could tell anyone the whole truth, it was too uncomfortable for him to discuss.  

“I suppose we are alike in some respects.” He said.   “We were both hurt by the Borg, and set on paths that would challenge us.   We even have our own scars.”  He held his cybernetic hand replacement up to his ocular implant.    “I was wrong to presume.   I’m sorry.”   

[Zyrao Natauna | Intriguing Stories | An Interesting Path | Own Brand of Hardships]
@Number6




She was intrigued by the story, though she had thought it would make him uncomfortable to describe it.  There were parts of her own story, parts she had not told anyone, not even her ex-Thomas.  There were things that eventually, one day, she would like to push off the burden of her own shoulders and make it a shared burden.  She had yet to find that person, perhaps one day, and yet she didn't feel that holding her breath was going to get her anywhere.  Zyrao was hot headed, strong, and independent.  She wanted to be cared for and important but she didn't want to be coddled.  A good relationship for her would be one on equal footing, equal ground, and moving forward together side by side rather than one behind the other.  She did not wish to carry the weaker nor did she wish to be carried herself.  Instead what she wished for was for them to guide one another through the hardships of life, to help straighten the other to stand when it was necessary to make a point.

Perhaps one day.

Foval explained that he was unsure how it happened but that the Borg Sphere had been in a transwarp conduit, something had gone awry and they dropped out.  They were able to adapt to the new surroundings but were severely damaged.  Many of their numbers died, and they crashed on the edge of the Alpha Quadrant.  Some of the Borg wished to retain their independence and some wished to return to the collective.  There was much bickering and eventually he was called on as a middle-man of sorts.  Her brow rose curiously, since that was literally her job title at the moment.  He was able to establish a truth, but eventually his group were picked up by the Heracles and he was taken home.

It was clear, to a strategist and tactician and a long time listener, that he was not telling her the entire story but what he was comfortable with.  It was something that she knew all too personally and felt no need to push him on it.  There were many uncomfortable things that happened in the lives of hardened people that were not common talk for entry level conversations.  Perhaps if they were able to get to know each other better they could open up a bit more.  This was only the first meeting.  He told her they were both hurt by the Borg and set on paths that would both scar and challenge them.  Her eyes moved down to his metallic hand and then back up to his eyes.

“You are not the first to judge me for my lack of shining metal at my collar.  Nor will I be the last to judge you for your implants.  However, I do believe we have moved past initial impressions and found that neither of them were founded.  So, we can turn our journey onto a path that will actually grow into something worthwhile.” she stated as she shifted in her seat and brushed a hand through her dark hair.

Zyrao was a lovely woman with full lips, gray eyes, and skin that was pale, toned, inked, and scarred.  But she exuded a quiet strength and confidence that came from years of being comfortable in her own skin and years of being someone that she could count on most.  She couldn't always count on the people around her often times she was forced to use them in various ways because of the means she needed to accomplish or to protect her own skin.  Zyrao had lived a very long life, and yet, she was not ready to lay down and let the world fade out around her.  She preferred to fight, she preferred to continue living and move forward to the next stage of life whatever that might be.

“Would you be interested in food?” she considered, since they were in the mess in the first place.  “Or if not, there is a brilliant lounge here with good drinks that we could stop by and actually drop this professional none sense and try to get to know one another on a level that could actually breed a relationship worth while?”

[Lt. JG Foval| Setting up the foundation | A moments trepidation| enjoying the future]
@BZ

As she spoke to him, he found himself dwelling on his own appearance.   Particularly his beard.   As a survivor on the Borg planet he had grown something far more expansive when he was trapped.   He had trimmed it down since, but chose not to get rid of it, as it helped to distract from his ocular implant.   Now he found himself reevaluating that choice.   Before his assimilation, he was constantly teased about being babyfaced.   He idly wondered what his current companion preferred.  He put the thoughts to one side.   Such thoughts weren’t conclusive to the hear and now.  

Nevertheless, as she continued to speak, particularly of building a relationship of some description, he felt anticipation to wherever it would lead.   He liked the sound of spending more time with her.   He quickly made sure that he had “breed” in the correct context.
  
“I don’t require nutrition at this time.” He said.   He thought about the crew lounge.  While he didn’t relish the prospect of water he decided to air on the side of prudence “I trust there is a choice of non Synthaolic Beverages?   The substance has the opposite effect on my Borg implants, whereas I have enjoyed home brewed hooch prepared some of the liberated Klingon drones, and have maintained my facilities until at least the third mug.    By then it gets somewhat hazy as the bottom of the mug begins to corrode, although it is difficult to summon the appropriate concern.”

He realised he had gone off on a tangent.   “So, I suppose the lounge would be a good choice.”

[Zyrao Natauna | Heading to New Destinations | Getting to Know Thine Enemy | Perhaps Not Enemy Any Longer]
@Number6




It seemed he wasn't hungry, and neither was Zyrao, the pit of her stomach was still working on coming back up to it's normal realm from when she had seen his implants.  She didn't eat when she was not hungry and seldom snacked, though there were times a snack was used to supplement a missed meal merely because her job could get busy and hectic at any time and thus she could easily be too busy to sit down for an actual meal.  She knew that calories were important for her to have because of the sheer amount of physicality that belonged in her life.  As soon as she was off shift she tended to visit the gym and beat the shit out of people that were willing to take her own.  She also go the shit beat out of her, already, she was getting a pretty intense Sickbay profile for the broken bones she walked in with.  She liked to goad her opponents into forgetting they were fighting a female, and just fight.  She wanted real fights none of that sparring none sense.  If you didn't feel pain, how were you really learning and training to fight properly.

He inquired if there were non-synthetic beverages in the whetstone and the El-Aurian smiled.  “I would not attend if that weren't the case.” she assured him as she rose smoothly and with practiced ease from her chair.  He explained that the substance had the opposite effect on his implants and while he enjoyed home brewed stuff and was able to maintain himself drinking Klingon hooch until at least his third mug.  Zyrao's grin deepened.

“Well, I think we will have to see how well you hold up to an El-Aurian that has been living with Klingon the past decade.” she chuckled a little.

She waited for him to stand as well, and when he did, she motioned for him to follow her, she would lead him to the lounge.  As they walked she slid her hands into her pockets with ease, just because it was almost how she always walked.  Her entire body exuded confidence and a decided air of 'don't fuck with me' that came from her.  Sharp grey eyes shifted across the corridor, many people nodded at her, she was becoming a more well known face around her especially with the addition of all the work she was doing.  The Klingon were coming on board and that meant many people saw her even more so because she was shifting Quarters and getting them a spot on the ship that would be theirs and away from the Savi.

“Do you enjoy the Theurgy?  How did you come to be on the Theurgy, I feel as though as much as I walk the ship I would have seen you before now.  Also, I know you're new because people talk and I'm quite the listener.” she said making a joke on the common stereotype for her race.

[L.t (J.G.) Foval| Show me the way to the next whisky bar | why don't they take a picture | getting to know you]
@BZ

His companion had plenty of polite nods.  He on the other hand was just getting used to some of the reaction.  The Crewmen, or maybe an occasional would stop and stare.  Some of his fellow Lt. J.G.’s may break eye contact with him as soon as they register him. 

Still he was glad to be with someone as a peer.  It had been something that had been lost to him for some time.  Just duty, and occasionally putting his old affairs in order.      Except…  he put those thoughts aside again. 

“Theurgy has been quite the ship.” He said as he looked around.  “I trusted the Admiral who sent me here, but part of me expected to see a ship overrun by pirates, or some hostile power, but aside from the popularity of something called ‘Public Baths’ the level of Starfleet dedication is as high as any ship I’ve been on.  There are forces within Starfleet that are supporting Theurgy,.  Because of my past as a diplomat, and my secondary skills in tactical analysis, I was sent here.    I travelled along on one of the Klingon ships.  It was quite an uneventful journey, I kept myself isolated as much as possible.  My Borg implants would have led to some awkward discussion in the mess.”

He had experienced many jokes about listening and hearing himself due to the shape of his ears.  It was curious to see someone make that joke about themselves. 

“And you?” he asked as they approached a door “How do you find life on a Federation Starship after 10 years amongst Klingons?”   

Part of him understood the nomadic lifestyle, yet to go from one culture to another after a long period of time could be quite jarring.   

[Zyrao Natauna | Drinking is Better | Social Drinking | Public Baths are Unusual]
@Number6




He spoke as they walked and it didn't take a tactical, strategist, or El-Aurian to see the uncomfortable looks that he got as he walked beside her.  Perhaps she would be a good pair for him, she remembered getting the same looks.  Of course, she also remembered dressing as an officer and going onto the Bridge amid some heavy resistance just to piss off the former first officer.  She was glad, actually, that she had been able to bring to light his gross inconsistency and the fact that he had been a sub-par officer much less a horrendous first officer.  She still had no idea how he had been gifted the office in which his elitist asshole found home, however, the current First Officer seemed a vast upgrade. 

Foval admitted that he trusted the admiral who had assigned him the Theurgy, though he expected a different environment when he came on board.  One full of people that were running around without rules and laws.  Zyrao understood, loosely, the term for pirates though she had heard them called other things in varying languages.  “I believe the misconception would be honorable, considering the rumors I have heard that are told of the Theurgy” she admitted with a bit of a nod.

He went o to talk about not understanding the popularity of the public baths, caught the El-Aurian by surprise and she found herself chuckling deeply from the thought of it.  Giving a nod.  “I would agree with that one, though I am by no means modest when it comes to bathing or otherwise, I do not quite understand the popularity.” she gave a simple shrug.  She quite had to admit she liked the Vulcan, he was unique and she enjoyed his perspective the way he saw the environment around him versus the way that she did.  They were similar and yet different enough to be intriguing.  He told her that his dual training as a diplomat and a tactical analyst had been why he was chosen to join the crew.

“Ah well if you ever fancy a true tactical battle in game form let me know.  I have long sought an opponent that could actually give me a run for my money.” she stated as they continued to walk. 

He asked about her own experiences and she sighed softly.  “It has indeed had it's highs and lows.  I turned my back upon the Klingon to board the ship due to the stupidity of my former Captain.  However, now I work with the Klingon closely.  I do not mind my job, though from the Aldean perspective it's been predominately meetings and paperwork, but I have managed well enough.  I less like having to answer to someone all the time, I was the Captain's right hand on the Hakkarl where I came from last.  This ship I answer to many, have absolutely no power, and am seen as less than many because of my status as a non-officer.” she said, her distaste for the whole thing coloring her words.  In her mind, proving herself through actions should be enough to get her the respect and prestige she needed. 

However, she was here for now and it was good enough to keep her around for the time being.  Her very short relationship with Thomas had been a nice distraction but that had ceased now and they had settled into becoming friends instead.  Zyrao liked having a place to put her energies but she would not force herself into any sort of relationship what so ever.  Instead, she would wait, the right person would come along that could challenge her in the right ways. 

The Whetstone lounge was not busy as they entered, there were several tables were people from the Theurgy sat while eating and drinking.  She gave a wave to the bartender who nodded back as she lead Foval through the tables and to a small two person table under a singular light hanging from the ceiling.  The red glass allowed the harsh light to glow more softly over their heads as the two sat down at their tables.  When the bartender came over she ordered herself a bloodwine and allowed Foval to order for himself since she didn't know him well enough to order for him.

Once the orders were in, her grey eyes turned to Foval.  “I would assume you get a lot of prejudice because of your extra hardware?” she asked pointing to her own eye in regards to his.

[Lt. JG Foval | Games we play | Moving down the chain | reflections on being the boogieman]
@BZ
Foval thought on what tactical games she was referring to.   It was an odd thing, since his liberation from the collective, traditional Vulcan activities that were abstract were a challenge to him now.   On the other hand, he continued to excel in more practical tactical activities like simulations, and other games.  

Foval understood where she was coming from when she was talking about moving into lower spot on a  new chain of command.  
“I can relate.” He said.   “In our group on the planet, I was the chief diplomat, almost part of a ruling trio.   Losing some of my autonomy was somewhat unusual.”

The Whetsone bar was another area that he had yet to explore.   Many of those present seemed relaxed and comfortable.    They found a seat, and she ordered a Bloodwine.   He ordered one himself, deciding to apply the concept of “When in Rome.”   
"I would assume you get a lot of prejudice because of your extra hardware?" she asked him.   

Before he could catch himself, his real hand touched his face and rubbed his fingers against his ocular implant.  

“Yes.   But I do not blame people.” He said.   “I have spent much time considering this.   We have made peace with every major Federation enemy.   Klingons, Cardassians, Romulans, there have even been renegade Jem’hadaar and Vorta that have helped Starfleet.   The rest we simply agree to stop fighting and keep the proverbial Selaht off of the proverbial lawn.   All except for the Borg.   They weren’t political rivals, or ideological enemies, that can be reasoned with to some extent   They are a force of nature, the equivalent of the earth boogie man.   Was I not the face of your nightmare just now?”

He picked up the bloodwine and sipped at it.   “A good vintage” he said.     

[Zyrao Natauna | Truth Time | It Isn't Easy | Visions of Nightmares]
@Number6




Foval admitted that losing his autonomy was unusual.  She could second that for sure, she missed being able to move on her own and do her job without an oversight committee.  While she knew that Ives and crew trusted her to do her job she still felt as though she were an outsider.  Perhaps, at some point, there would be something to assist in that, perhaps she would eventually begin to feel more part of the crew.  Perhaps she was just old and set in her ways, older than most everyone on the ship, she felt that her experiences should speak to more than 'just a civilian'.  She supposed that they did, in a way, since she had been afforded the position of Klingon Liaison, but that didn't always satisfy her.  She liked to be in the grit of it, while she preferred having a job to not having one, she was missing the in-your-face excitement of going after the missions with a disruptor and a powerful fist.

He reached up, when she mentioned his additional hardware and brushed his still-Vulcan fingers across the brow.  Foval admitted he didn't blame people for their prejudice, which was nice and rare to hear.  Most people would have felt jilted but he could understand what the Borg had done and how they had affected most people.  It wasn't easy, to sit across from a Borg and not remember the horrendous things they had done to people she knew.  Luckily, never to herself personally, but, she was not surprised that there would be some on board that would have had closer experiences with them, or perhaps just general run ins.

Foval asked if he was not just the face of her nightmare when she had first walked in on him.  Zyrao nodded and sighed.  “I do not wish to say it is true, however, it is.  When I first saw your implants I initially was brought back to a place and time that I had thought long behind me.  I realize that you had no choice in your assimilation, nor in your actions once part of the hive, and yet, it is not easy to forget the horrors perpetrated against my kind.”

Zyrao took a sip of her blood wine once it was brought to her and leaned back into the seat.  “However, I do not like prejudices.  Part of me wanted to make you pay for everything done to El-Auria, and yet, I am trying very desperately to be a better person.  Thus, I decided not to take out my emotions on you, besides you are far too young to have been on El-Auria and again – it was no choice of your own.”

Another sip as she played with the rim of her cup with her delicate fingers.  “To be truthful I thought the emotions of that past long behind me.  It was an oddity to remember them so vividly so suddenly and without the aid of sleep.” she chuckled a little bit.  “Is it rude to ask how you came to be assimilated?”

[Lt. JG Foval | Ghosts of the past | The way he was | careful, now]
attm @bz
He found his companion’s honestly refreshing.   If there was one thing that he had discovered a keen dislike for when he returned to Federation life, it was the people who tried to ignore his afflictions.   He didn’t deserve any special treatment, better or worse, but to pretend what happened to him didn’t happen was a disservice to his ordeal.  

He took a sip of his bloodwine.   The beverage had what the more emotional species called “A kick to it” however, he could probably drink a few cases of the stuff and his body would have flushed enough of it out before he felt so much as light headed.  

She asked him about his assimilation.    It was a strange place for him to go, it was the last time he was ever truly whole.  

“I was a helmsman on the USS Tolstoy.   I wasn’t even at my post when he hit the battle of Wolf 359.   I was in my quarters meditating.”   

By that point, the deadly nature of the Borg cube that was threatening the Federation was well known.   Yet despite this, in those final minutes, it was perhaps the only time he felt fully at piece as he focused on the flames and his meditation allowed him to move his anxieties and concerns aside.   A talent that had been lost to him ever since.  
His cybernetic hand started to squeeze against the mug he was holding, bending the steel.   He set it down before he destroyed it.   

We barely got a torpedo volley before a cutting beam destroyed our engineering section.   The ship was dying, and I was beamed out.   He remembered the sickening pinch of tubules in his neck, the instant connection to the sinister hive mind.   The varying smells of grease and blood as implants were grafted.  

“I was only half assimilated, there was an attack against the cube, Captain Riker captured Picard.   We – the collective – realised that there was a chance the Queen would be destroyed or compromised if they managed to subdue Locutus and reassert Picard’s personality.   The queen covertly left the cube with a few hundred drones.”  
 
He palmed the dented mug with his Vulcan hand.   “Somewhere in transwarp corridor my brain was carved up, my arm chopped off, and I was given a few other permanent items of jewellry.”   

[Zyrao Natauna – Klingon Liaison | Truth of the Past | Horrible Memories for All | Lets Move Beyond Our Pasts]
@Number6




He seemed to be a little apprehensive about diving into his past, but, fair was fair.  If she would have to dive into her own, then he would have to do the same as well.  As much as he probably wished to forget it, it was better to embrace and remember your past rather than try to push it away and think about something else entirely.  No, the kind of life that they lead it was better not to leave the demons and skeletons in the closet, an odd terminology she had heard from an Earthen onboard the ship, but it was best to air them out in the open and make sure that you understood what you had done in the past and where you had come from. 

Foval began to tell her about his past position as Helmsman on a ship.  However, he wasn't at the battle of Wolf 359, he was in his quarters meditating.  She nearly rolled her eyes because it was such a Vulcan thing to be doing when a battle went down.  He told her that he was at peace when it happened, she imagined that he was since he had been meditating it would have come as quite the surprise since he had been in such an open minded state. 

Zyrao didn't miss the tension used from his hand, and how it began to choke the metal of the cup in his hand down tightly a bit of a squeal of metal before he stopped himself.  She wondered if he still meditated, he didn't mention whether he did or didn't, maybe he felt too vulnerable, or maybe his brain chemistry was rather altered too far beyond anything else because she knew that the Borg could really mess with people.

He told her that he was only half-assimilated because various things happened, and her brow rose.  Zyrao let out a long sigh as she looked down at her drink, quietness descended on the table for a moment as they both had respect for the crazy circumstances that had come about for him.  “That's quite the story.” she had to admit that she felt as though she could relate to him better knowing the hardships that he had gone through.  It wasn't as if he had volunteered to Borg himself, she had never met anyone that had, but, regardless of any of that, was the fact that he had been through his own personal dark places and come out on the other side.  Yet, he was still fighting against his past and all that had happened to him.

Zyrao leaned forward and put her fleshy hand on the metal of his false hand, getting his eyes to lock with her lovely grey ones.  Her tattoos on her skin stood out against the pale tone.  She was lovely in her own ways, and the tattoos while they were not all of her own choosing only seemed to accentuate her more so.

“You embrace all that has happened to you, Foval.  But, you do not feel embarrassed or run from what has happened.  You had no choice in the matter, and there are times in life, we have no choice.  We move forward because it is what we do.  Be stalwart in yourself, believe in yourself.  Through your own strength you are still alive, still working with the Federation and while you will not always be understood, know that I at least understand you.”

Zyrao slid around so that she was sitting beside Foval instead of across from him and pulled her drink over to her as well so that he would hopefully feel less alone.  “I'll have your back.” she assured him, and this close, he would see all the lovely smoky striations in her gray eyes.

[Lt. J.G Foval |  Lets do this| Is she the one| time to tell]

attn @BZ

This was moving quickly, Foval mused.   The talk of his assimilation was just the first drop in his ocean of misery of course, to say nothing of his moment of shame when he had escaped the Borg, nevertheless the way she approached him, he was beginning to look forward to one day, sharing those secrets, but this was their first encounter, and he wasn’t exactly an expert in relationships.   

He put his good hand on top of hers.   Such a gesture would be distasteful for some Vulcans, downright scandalous for others, but without his telepathy, it was just a feeling of warmth.   And it was welcomed.   Likewise as she sat with him, for the first time in some considerable time there was nowhere else at that moment where he wanted to be more.  

He gazed into her eyes, and saw only warmth and openess.   He knew he could trust her in what she said, and wanted nothing more to be able to respond in kind.   There was something developing, was it infactuation, attraction?    He wondered if he should even follow the path.   But he decided to pursue it.  

“We are both survivors.    I do not have much, but now, I have your back as well Zyrao.    Whatever help I can give you, is yours when you need it.”    

[Zyrao Natauna | Emotional | Taboo | Like it Anyway]
@Number6




With her hand on his metallic one, she felt the warmth of his flesh hand cover her own.  Zyrao gave him a soft smirk, he was a good man.  What had happened to him in the past was not of his choosing much like her own past.  A large part of her past was written in the lash marks that criss crossed her back.  He would be able to see a little bit of them outside of her tank top but nothing much, not the true heart of the matter.  Her skin was covered in a wealth of tattoos of various languages, from El-Aurian, to Breen, to Cardassian, to Kzin.  So many of them, not a single one in Federation Standard and honestly she doubted that she would ever actually get one in that language.  It might be the one that was spoken here, and perhaps when she felt more a part of the Federation but right now she was still settling in for the most part.  Zyrao knew that it would not be easily, really, to find a good spot for her here, but she was trying to find a place.  To find a reason to take the foothold offered to her on the Theurgy and stay.

Perhaps this person.  Friend, or otherwise.

He admitted they were both survivors.  Nothing could be more true about the two of them, perhaps they could bond in this way.  She wondered if it was possible to truly bond with another.  If they were both somewhat broken could they make one another hole merely by relying on each other.  Zyrao would be loathe to admit that anything within her was broken however, as she had seen in the pool and the bruising on Lillee's face, she was most definitely not completely whole. 

Foval mentioned that while he did not have much he most certainly would give what he did have to help her.  Whatever he had to give, it was hers all she had to do was ask.  Zyrao gave him a bit of a grin.  “Well in an effort to not be repetitive, I will indeed have your back any time it is required.” she promised earnestly her voice and her tone making sure that he knew she was serious.  Zyrao did not make oaths or promises lightly but it seemed that if anyone on this ship was in need of someone that could be on their side it was the man who had been Borg.

It was ironic, in her mind, that she was the one that would extend the first arm of friendship, and yet, she found that it felt right.  Hopefully by her reaching out to him he would be able to find a spot to stand.  A foundation to build himself up on, a place to stand and know that there was at least one place in this ship that he was accepted for who and what he was.

“I am curious.” she stated, her hand staying between his, her grey eyes looking into his still, with their close proximity she could almost feel his breathing more than she could hear it.  “Do you find yourself at the throws of nightmares some nights?  I find that many of mine faded over the years and yet sometimes, they are so terrifyingly vivid.”

[Lt. Foval| Bed time rituals | worse than bed bugs| Wet ware rewired]
@BZ
“Sometimes, when I dream.” Foval admitted.     “I am not sure what is worse, the ones about my assimilation, or the ones where I assimilate… that is, the Borg are forcing me to assimilate others”  

He thought about the desperation, the panic he used to see of people, the increasing sense of desperation in his eyes, trying desperately to gain control of his mind, seeing his own hand holding people in place while they are afflicted by the same blight that had doomed him.   

“I rarely sleep in the traditional sense.”  He said.   “When I rest, I use energy emitters around my bed that act as a borg alcove would to a traditional drone.   I do sleep, although long term I must keep regeneration cycles going. “  he imagined that the Captain was happy that he didn’t need to wire up an alcove into the cargo bay or his quarters.    “But, when I do sleep, and I am not on alert for a mission…   yes, bad dreams do manifest.” 

He paused, swishing the bottom of his mug around “It is difficult for me to get mastery over my dreams, or any of my emotions, at least without using my Borg implants.”   

He realised he was about to go into detail on the extensive restructuring of his brain.   He stopped himself.   She was offering to be his friend, and he realised that he was in danger of breaking down his walls completely and that wouldn’t do.     “But enough about me.    Your dreams, when they are more vivid, are there any extertnal factors that cause this?”

 

[Zyrao Natauna | Bonding Through the Bad | Interesting Bed Fellows | Charging Ports?]
@Number6




He told her a little bit about his nightmares.  She felt for him, she had many nightmares about killing those around her, about the betrayals that she had done in the past and things that she had a guilty conscience for.  She tried to live her life without regrets but ther were always decisions to be made, and the 'what ifs' of the other side of the fence.  As much as she wished there was no pain involved in her life, on others done by her own hands, she could not state that was the case.  Zyrao had caused much pain and had been the cause of death in many different areas of her life because of the life she had lead.  So she could understand the fear, though for him it was completely out of his control.  Whether he killed or assimilated someone was of the hive mind and not of his own volition. 

“That must have been hard.” she stated, figuring that she was not wrong.  “To have no control over your own actions in such a way.”

He admitted that he didn't sleep in the way that most did.  He used energy emitters around his bed that acted similar to the Borg alcove where they would be recharged.  He did sleep, though he had to go through some regeneration cycles so that he could stay alert, and probably alive.  However, when he did sleep nightmares could plague him.  Another nod, and she found herself rather curious how it would be to sleep in such a situation.  With the hum of emitters around but she supposed that he was used to it since it had been his way of life since assimilation. 

Foval admitted that it was hard for him to control his emotions when he wasn't using the Borg accessories installed in his body.  “I imagine that is difficult considering your Vulcan ways.” she stated calmly as she continued to try to get to know him, and furthermore, to understand him.  It was unusual.  When she first saw him her thought was to punch him in the face and keep punching.  But, then she got to know him and now she found herself wanting to know more.  About who he was before he was assimilated, and who he was now.  She was fairly certain they were two different people.

“Perhaps you do not need to hide or control your emotions but instead learn to live with him with daily life.  Emotions can be strong but they can also be something that you utilize in situations where they give you a heads up to things going on around you.”

He asked about her dreams, and the vividity, if she had noticed any causes for this.  For a moment Zyrao was quiet as she thought about the answer, and then nodded.  “When I am stressed.  But I find most often they come when there is someone I care about.  When I have given my body or soul to someone, when my heart belongs to someone.  That is when they are the most vivid.  What about you?” she asked him curiously she wondered what the metal felt like.  If it was warm, the one on his face, or if it was cold.  But, she was not going to touch it.  Not yet, but she might get brave at some point.

[Zyrao Natauna | Getting under the skin | Tet a tete| How vivid are we?]
@BZ

She asked him about his  Vulcan control.   “It is difficult.” He confessed.   “As a Vulcan, we are taught from an early age to build up our barriers.   Our brains are literally taught to condition themselves.   Since my earliest childhood playing with blocks and learning logic puzzles I have had my Vulcan reserve.   I suppose it is like this arm.”   He looked at his metal hand.   “It can pick things up and put things down, support my weight and so on.   Yet, the simple joys of sand running through my ‘fingers’ or the sensation of soft flower is denied to me.   It is the same with my nodes.   My emotions are restricted, but I don’t get the…”   he looked for the correct word. “Gratification that I have successfully mastered my emotions, if the paradox makes sense. “ 

As their conversations about dreams continued.   He thought about her giving her heart to someone – would that be a blessing and a curse then?  He was a bit more coy with his discussion.    “As my dreaming is limited, it tends to be pretty vivid on the rare occasions it does occur.   

“So, that is to say, if you do not mind me asking, does the vividness of your dreams last while your relationship is in progress, or do they reduce again overtime as you become comfortable in the relationship?”

He wasn’t sure about being so forward with his companion, but he was eager to hear more.   He found that he wanted to know more and more about his friend.    She was someone that he wanted to get to know better.      

[Lt. Foval | What Nightmares Make | Finding a Way to Be a Person | Making a Move]
@Number6




He admitted that it was hard, because as a Vulcan they were taught at an early age how to build up their barriers.  They were not allowed to be emotional but instead pushed to control themselves.  He remembered playing blocks and logic puzzles as he was young.  He showed her his prosthetic arm and told her that he could pick things up and put them down and it was like having a normal hand.  And yet, it was different in the fact that he could not feel the joys of running his hand through the sand or touching a soft flower.  He felt the same with his nodes, his emotions were restricted but he didn't get the gratification of the mastery of them. 

“It makes sense, but remember, while altered it is not gone.  This hand, is functional, but this one.” she stated as she touched the skin of the hand that was still whole.  “Is for the joys and pleasures of the flesh.  Perhaps you are gifted in the fact that you have both sides of a coin.” she offered a different perspective and hoped that it made sense.

He explained that his dreams were vivid because they were so limited that when he did dream it was pretty intense.  He then asked if it was more or less so when she had someone to care about.  For a moment Zyrao thought about that. “It would depend.' she explained. 

“If I was in a peaceful situation, like now, it would be less so.  However, I find that when I am preparing myself for battles, when I know I could die, or those around me could die, then I find myself with nightmares which include horrendous things happening to those I care for.  It is hard to open a old heart sometimes and yet I find that life is exceedingly lonely without some proper outlet.  I have been alive a very long time and do not wish to be lonely for it's entirety.”

Zyrao looked into his eyes a moment and then she made a split second decision.  “Apologies.” she said before she put her hand on his cheek, letting go of his hand, and leaned in and kissed him soundly.  Her eyes closed as she kissed him, her lips toying with his a little bit hoping they would kiss her back in return.  She had been denying herself this kiss for a little time now, and it was most definitely not the booze as she had not drank nearly enough to cause any issues like that.  It was just something she wanted to do.  Pulling back from the kiss she felt more grounded.

“Much better, I have needed to do that and was denying myself, I hope you are not upset.” she stated watching his eyes and his body language to gather whether he was or not.

[Lt. Foval |  |Disproportionate halves| The Man awakens | Unexpected]

@BZ
He thought on what she said about two sides of the coin.   He had soent so much of his time trying to manage his cybernetic side, but in a lot of senses he it was at the expense of his individuality    If you focus on managing the machine, how does the man exist.   He was beginning to realise that this was a lesson he was about to learn.   A sense of anticipation was building for future interactions   He looked from his hand to her eyes and saw something there, a spark he couldn’t quite place.   A light  
She apologised, he was about to ask why, as she let go of his hand.   He felt her lips press against his, there was a moment of shock.   It wasn’t something that he expected, but it wasn’t enterely unwelcome or rejected.  It had been some time since he had done this, and even so, it hadn’t felt so special, so liberating.   He felt something stir within him, the Vulcan soul, not caged with logic, but bolted to the remnants of the Borg machine was starting to awaken for the first time in an age.   He had ruled out personal interaction at this level since he was liberated.       

She ended the kiss.  And asked him if he was upset.   He shook his head.  “I am not.   The experience was quite pleasant. “   He let things pass between them.   “I must confess however, I anticipated the possibility of such an interaction has occurred to me, but I did not expect it for another two weeks of interaction allowing for sufficient time to become, familiar with each other.”  

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips.   “I am glad you – we did that.   More would be… agreeable.   However, I am motivated to ask “Why?”     

[Zyrao Natauna | This Kiss | No Regrets | Perhaps More | Don't Give Up]
@Number6




He hadn't really kissed her back.  As much as she had hoped he would but in the same breath she had also surprised him and it had come out of nowhere.  Though, she could tell in his eyes and his body language while surprised he didn't seem to really mind having been kissed at all, which was good for her.  She was glad that it hadn't ended badly though Zyrao was bold enough to have rolled with whatever the fallout would have been through that as well.  Though he told her that he was not upset, her grey eyes studied his, for a moment and decided that he was telling the truth and that the kiss was actually quite pleasant. 

As Zyrao leaned back and picked up her beverage taking another sip more comfortably now, though she knew the tension would rise again in her body.  She would want to kiss him again, she would desire to kill him again, and yet she wasn't sure that it would be something he would want repeated.  “You did not lose your attraction merely with extra hardware.” she admitted, though she had to admit she surprised herself in desiring the kiss in the first place considering that he was ex-Borg and she had a complicated past with them.  He told her that he had anticipated something like that would happen but that it would take at least two weeks, causing Zyrao to chuckle.

“Well then, you can make the second move, however, I'm not very good at waiting.” she said with a knowing smile on her face. 

He stated that he was glad she had kissed him and more would be welcomed.  Zyrao gave him her classic confident smile looking over at him again with those eyes over the cup of blood wine.  He then stated that he felt motivated to ask why.  Putting the cup down Zyrao brushed her thumb over her lower lip something that she did sometimes when she was thinking, contemplating, putting together an answer in the most truthful sense. 

“When I first came to see you, I felt shock over your, recent history.  But then, as I began to see past your hardware I realized that you were rather attractive.  As we spoke more I found that I enjoyed our conversation which made you more attractive and I am, by nature I am a very impulsive person.  I see what I want, I get what I want.  Well, I try anyway, I don't like playing games, I don't like being coy, I go for what I want, and I have my eyes set on you.” she stated confidently.  Her eyes shifted to him as she leaned comfortably back into the seat but twisted her body so that it faced him a bit more.  Her tattoos stood out largely against her pale skin, and she enjoyed looking at Foval he was good looking, she didn't mind the hardware at all, and the conversation had actual depth to it which made him more attractive. 

“now, since you've put me on the spot and I've answered truthfully it is your turn.  What makes you desire more from the touch of my lips?”

[Lt. J.G. Foval |  Waking up | Not half a man | one good turn...]
attn BZ
"now, since you've put me on the spot and I've answered truthfully it is your turn.  What makes you desire more from the touch of my lips?"

   
He paused before answering truthfully.   “You are the first person to treat me as a person someone you genuinely want to interact with since I returned to the Federation   Most people I meet for the first time react as you do.   I am somewhat alienated from my family.   I am a proud Starfleet officer, but that only goes as far as camaraderie.  ‘He’s Starfleet, but I’m not sure I’d want to go for a beer with him.’ Was one phrase I heard shortly after I returned.   There are medics, therapists that have understood who I am, but our interaction could only be platonic.   You are the first person who has acknowledged that there is more to me than my uniform or my past.”   A hint of a smile crossed his features as he thought for a moment.   “The kiss doesn’t just represent physical and emotional stimulation, it represents the chance that someone can look at me with something other than suspicion or pity.”   

His green eyes looked into her eyes, the slumbering creature was now about to thrash against his bonds   With his human hand he brushed Zyrao’s face and leaned forward, gently kissing her lips, allowing  the moment between them to last for a while.   He wasn’t sure what this was, a short term fling, or a long relationship   Whatever it was, he was on board.  

[Zyrao Natauna | I Can Handle This | Reciprocation | Enjoying the Moment]
@Number6




He answered far more seriously than she expected.  Honestly, she figured that he would come out with some kind of pick up line.  Perhaps that was just the people she had been around a lot more lately.  But honestly, she found herself rather intrigued when he answered much as any Vulcan would have.  Truthful and calmly, which was exactly the perfect thing to do.  He told her that she was the first person that had seen him as a person and genuinely wanted to interact with him.  She smirked softly but her heart tugged towards him at the moment because he had lead before she had walked into that mess hall this morning before she had walked into that mess hall this morning. 

Foval went on to talk about how he was alienated from his family and how he was a proud Starfleet officer. Zyrao was not an officer, not really and she didn't think she ever would be.  But, she hoped that she could at least give him some sort of comfort for him in her own way.  He told her that while people would work with him, but that they wouldn't want to have a beer with him. 

“Well consider me your permanent drinking buddy.” she said with a bit of a smirk.

He told her that the kiss didn't just represent the physical and emotional stimulation but the chance of being something other than pity and wonder.  His eyes were a vibrant green color, and she found them very beautiful and intriguing.  There was something in there though, that hadn't been in there before.  Perhaps it was hope, perhaps it was enjoyment, perhaps it was attraction but something was there now and she liked it. There was a fire behind the green hues of his eyes and Zyrao found herself even more drawn to it than she had been before.  His hand cupped her cheek and he softly leaned forward kissing her in a very gentle way.  Zyrao's eyes flickered closed softly as she leaned in so that they were kissing one another instead of him kissing her or vice versa.

The two of them kissed for several minutes before she finally pulled back softly and looked into his eyes.  She brushed her fingers across his cheek, up against the metal that surrounded his eye, and then back down to the flesh so wanted to make sure that he knew how much she liked all of him and not just the fleshy parts.

“Would you be interested in heading to my Quarters, or perhaps yours, if it is easier for you to sleep there.  You mentioned needing equipment.” she stated softly.  “I am not quite ready to leave and let this go, and yet, I find myself not really interested in drinking the rest of this.” she said motioning to the cup that was mostly empty anyway.

“Or there is a holodeck, we could enjoy.  Perhaps a walk on Vulcan, or something like that?  I'm just throwing ideas out here so we don't have to say goodbye just yet.” she smired waiting for his response and his answer.

[Foval | losing himself | shouldn't have said that | your place, or a simulation?]
@BZ 

As they kissed, she was his universe.   Even in hi younger days he would have dismissed such observations as emotional hyperbole.    However, the wisdom of age and is ability to recongise a good thing told him otherwise.   The time he was spending with her was almost becoming addictive.      Though he was barely acquainted with the woman in who a short time earlier triggered fear and resentment, he was quite eager to get to know her better, weather it meant more conversation, or more of the previous activity, or the next progression from that.   He had some theories on what it could be, but nevertheless whatever it was, he was excited to see things play out.  
  
She was a force of nature a brilliant blazing star that he could navigate towards in an otherwise featureless void.   She was bringing him from the shell  

Zyrao was clearly thinking along the same lines as he was about the next steps of their interaction, as she suggested heading towards his quarters, hers or the holodeck.  

“My quarters are not yet quite a home.   And I can go for multiple hours without needing my regeneration equipment”   with a hint, a ghost of playfulness he added. “And I think sleeping will not rank highly on our agenda.”  

Part of him did want to see her quarters, see if he could find out more about her from her home as much as he could from conversation and intimacy,   However, he wanted this to be right for her too   He rose from his seat and held out his hand  

“I shall be honest Zyao, Vulcan does not resonate with me romantically, and the last place where I was part of an intimate relationship was a hut built from wreckage on a barely habitable Jungle world”   His heat sank for a second he had alluded to one of his personal secrets.   Maybe he could share it with her, but he didn’t want to share it here or now.   “So” he said quickly moving on.   “I think your quarters would be better, or a holodeck simulation of your choice   Whichever it is, I want to be… with you.”  

He put his hand on hers and rose from the table.   “So, where shall we do this?”  

[Zyrao Natauna | Climate Change | Taking Chances | Putting Oneself Out There | Paying Off]
@Number6




Foval mentioned that his own Quarters was not quite set up.  Hers was, only because through Ravon's help she had moved what little she had left in her apartment on the surface of Aldea to her home here on the Theurgy.  Everything else that she held dear had exploded into space dust with the rest of the Hakkarl.  However, the thing she hated losing the most out of all of it was her one of a kind paper books in various collected languages, in which she could speak, and the tea.  Her precious tea and now she was having to start over from scratch.  Because she not replicate tea, that was tacky and it wasn't really tea it was just colored water.  Zyrao had spent a ridiculous amount of money on the surface of Aldea so that she could get herself set up with enough tea until they got to another planet where she could beg, barter, or work for more.  The tea that she had in her Quarters was from all over the galaxy and much of it was worth the prices paid in her mind.

He admitted that he didn't need his regen equipment just yet and she smirked softly not sure and learning the ropes with him every step of the way.  Of course she quite enjoyed all those little things and was looking forward to getting to know him more so in the future because he was worth knowing and she knew that now that they were together like this.  More so with every moment she realized that she would quite like to know more about him.

Then with a playful smile he mentioned that sleeping would not be high on the agenda causing her to chuckle.  “No, I do not think it will be.”

She preferred honesty, she hated sugar coated bull shit, and she hated people that told even the white lies because they weren't necessary.  Though, she herself was one to bend the truth to her will and to her means at times, she tried not to do it in a personal sense if possible. Personal relationships were supposed to be based on a foundation of trust, and trust was not without truth.  Foval confessed that Vulcan was the least romantic place that he could think of he would want to spend causing her another chuckle.  “I would agree, however, I didn't know if it would make you more comfortable.” she admitted with a single shrug of her shoulder.  He said something confusing about a hut in a jungle that she would have to touch on later to clarify.

“My Quarters it is.”

He got up and held his hand to her and she rose smoothly with practiced muscle that were well worn in over the years.  She was old, an old old soul, even if she didn't look like it.  They headed out of the lounge and the to the turbolift where they headed to her Corridor.  There they stepped out and she lead the way at a leisurely pace, Zyrao only moved with purpose and with expediancy when she was in battle, otherwise she took her time, she supposed that when you had been alive over two hundred years you found there was little reason to rush.

At her Quarters the doors opened and they stepped inside.  Everything was pristine.  The couch cushions were put 'just so' and plump as though they were hardly used.  The screen for viewing whatever was necessary was up and out of the way.  Her desk had a small stack of padds at the upper right corner and a small lamp on the upper left but was devoid of any other clutter.  On the back wall of the living area was a massive wall of books.  Shelves had been installed to take them all and there was still room to grow but each and every one of them were paper books, with real paper, in various languages and kinds of paper from all over the galaxy. 

Over by the replicator another shelf had been installed into the bulkhead and that held her impressive new tea collection, never in a bag, always loose leafed.  The cups were carefully stored behind bands that would keep them from falling and shattering should they experiences some turbulence or something like that.  Her tea collection included a small collection of tea pots, five in all, from metal to ceramic, to glass, all sorts of them. 

Her bed was made with military precision.  There was no way you couldn't bounce something of it and have it back at you, it was made with tucked corners, perfect sheets, straight and perfectly symmetrical down to the pillows. 

“I hope you don't mind.” she stated as they stepped inside as she slipped out of her boots.  “But I have an issue with my boots coming into my living space.”  sure enough right next to the door was a small bench where she took the boots she had only just taken off and put them on the shelf so that it would be off the floor and leave no dirt, debris, and what not in her home.  It was a carry over from her military days as was much of her home actually.  There were no personal pictures, no personal effects, at least not that could be seen.  She had a massive Klingon bat'leth over her bed a nod to her Klingon days but otherwise there was nothng personal left out in view.

“So then... did you want to get comfortable?  Have another drink?  Or....” she moved in and kissed him again fully, soundly, and deeply.  Letting him pick what he wished for their evening to start off with.

[Lt. J.G. Foval | Best foot forward |looking at the treasure trove | taking the next steps]
@BZ

As they walked to her quarters Foval felt a hint of the thrill of excitement of what was to come   The intoxicating being that he was with was more prevalent than ever.   He looked forward to seeing her home, and what clues about her it hid   He got the impression that she was honest, yet her trust had to be earned.   

They arrived at her quarters and she removed her boots, removing external footwear was a concept that Foval was familiar with from many cultures around Federation space, she explained her feelings

“Not at all” he said honestly.   Without being bidden to do so, he followed suit, pinching his socks to his boots so that they came off as well

He looked at her room, he admired the collection of books from afar, his Borg implant translating many of the languages that the UT didn’t pick up.     There was a hint of perfume from the various teas in the air, yet there was a freshness to the room too.    There weren’t any signs of personal artifacts, or personal glory, yet a Batleth hung over her bed.  He wondered what other Klingon practices she observed in the bedroom, but he decided not to press the query   

She asked him what he wanted to do before kissing him deeply.   He returned the kiss and there was very little else that he could focus on   He stopped kissing her for a moment, and stared into her grey eyes.   

“I think you know.” He said.   He unzipped his uniform, jacket, taking it off and putting it to one side on the couch.    He took a deep breath.   Since his return to Federation life, he had never really shown anyone this side of him before outside of medical personnel.   He lifted off his undershirt.  

His body was in good shape in the general sense.   His artificial hand accounted for most of his forearm, A single Borg implant was just below his collar bone, nevertheless it made him feel like “the other” without the familiarity of his uniform.    The feelings of anticipation and fear battled within him as he stood there before her  

“This is me Zyrao, at least, what’s left of me.”    

[Zyrao Natauna | I Am the Same | Scars of a Violent Past | Still Me]
@Number6




he returned the kiss, not stopping it to answer her in a different way.  Zyrao was not the kind to kiss tentatively, but instead kissed with her whole self.  To be honest, she didn't usually put a lot of thought into kissing or fucking, she tended to let her body make those decisions unless she was looking for something more.  However, lately she had been feeling quite nostalgic and wondering if it was worth finding someone that she could be with and grow with.  It was odd because being over two hundred years old meant it wasn't easy to find what you needed and many weren't interested.  She had thought she had Thomas Ravon had something that would grow but they were far too different, or perhaps they were too similar, but she had been unable to control her jealousy and her sheer iron clad independence.  So she had been unable to foster the relationship.  She was uncertain if Foval would be able to handle her.  Zyrao had been around and alone for a long time she was used to doing things on her own and not being coddled.  She did not need someone to take care of her but she wanted someone to walk along in life with her.  What she had not expected was her jealous streak, though she hoped to keep it more in check this time.

As the kiss ended, he unzipped his uniform jacket and took it off.  He put it on the couch, a thing she appreciated because she hated mess.  If it wasn't obvious from the state of her Quarters and how everything had a place and neatly put away as it was, she did not appreciate clutter.  Though she was also not going to be upset about a mess of clothing that was flung around while they were having at one another.  She could put her issues with mess to the side when it mattered and deal with them later once the fun was had.  Zyrao watched his reverence as he took the hem of his shirt in his hands.  She could tell whatever lay beneath was an issue for him so she stole herself for tubes, or something that would possibly protrude.  However as he took his shirt off she noticed the shining implant there on his chest just below his collar bone.  He was looking at her and told her that this was him, what was left of him.

“You're incorrect.” she stated.  “This is you.  But never what is left of you, Foval.  Just you.  You are an Ex-Borg, but that does not make you less yourself.  Only altered.”

Zyrao's hand reached up and she brushed her hand over the implant very gently incase it shifted to cause him pain or something.  Zyrao was not shy, nor did she hesitate, it was a long time she had the scars riddling her back, and the tattoos that had been forced upon her covering her body.  She lifted the hem of her black tank top and then she pulled it off in one fell swoop.  Zyrao stood there in her Starfleet issued sports bra and her pants.  The extremely taught muscles of her body on display under a wide variety of tattoos in so many languages.  His implant would easily pick up the Klingon, the Breen, the Kzin, and even El-Auria.  There were even Cardassian tattoos that marked her as a slave and so forth.  Her body was a patch work of overship, slavery, and pain. 

Then she turned around.

Her hair was short so there was nothing to move as she stood there showing him the nasty angry healed scars from lash marks across her back that disappeared into the waist band of her pants clearly denoting that they continued.  Over all of the scars were more tattoos from the languages mentioned above and some that she had chosen, some that were images, some that were important to  her in various ways, she had tried to take ownership of her skin in many ways after her freedom, but it was hard when so much of her skin was etched with her past.

“This is me, as well.” she said looking at him over her shoulder.  “You do not carry sins upon your skin alone.  Nor the pain of the past, we both have daily reminders of a time or.. times, we would rather forget.”

[Lt. JG Foval | trying to learn |becoming | tracing the story]
@BZ
He felt buoyed at what she said.   Perhaps he was complete.   Perhaps he wasn’t.   He certainly like the feeling of being complete when he was with her.   He watched as she undressed.   His Borg implant was able to translate the tattoos in the same way that they had translated the spines in her library.   Words that were meant to label, catalogue, demean and rob her of her individuality and her rights as a being.   And yet, there were messages of her own, signs that she had attempted to take some measure of control.   He knealt down looked at the scars, tracing them at the small of her back with his fingers.  

“May I ask, why do you keep them?   I mean, my own Borg implants that are left are grafted to my nervous system.   I’d die without them, I can’t even replace my arm with a traditional prosthesis.   But skin can be healed.”

He hoped that he wasn’t asking too ignorant a question as he unfastened his pants.  He stood up, and the pants fell to the ground.   With his regulation Starfleet briefs on display, he stepped out of his them.   Implants on his lower body were even less, a second spider implant like behind his knee being the only other clue.  

He embraced her, with his single arm, hovering above her skin with his left one, conscious how troubled she had been with his Borg implants.   He kissed her hungrily, tasting her lips.   Avoiding her scars and tracing his fingers as delicately as he could manage.   

“So” he said stepping back and cocking his head.   “What next?”

[Zyrao Natauna | Truth | Trust | Taking Another Step]
@Number6




There was something about her scars, they were an intimate place for her.  She wore her scars out in the open for the most part but she also didn't really expose them to other people either.  Just the peeks around her clothing.  But, when she allowed someone to actually touch them it was a big deal.  Not because she was ashamed of them, but because there was an odd sensation there.  Her back was always a mass of pain in the mornings when she first woke up and she tended to combat that with the push ups and pull ups that she did in the mornings to push through the pain and warm up her back the right way.  However, right now they were a mix of numb and sensitive.  Some of the scar tissue network was so thick she felt nothing when he brushed his fingers against them, but others it was so sensitive that she felt almost like she was going to shiver.

He asked her why she kept them, that his Borg implants were different, they could not be removed or he would lose his life.  She however could have had Fleet medicine heal her back and allow it to be smooth and without the pain.  It was a similar conversation she had with Thomas he was pushing her to have it healed but she refused and he could never fully understand why.  However, she had a feeling that Foval could.  He might have been forced to keep his, she chose it for reasons of her own.

“Because with them, I will never forget the past.  I will be reminded of my past daily so that I know where I have come from.  I cannot forget my past, it has allowed me to become who I am today.” she confessed.

He stood and unfastened his pants, her brow rose, she appreciated that he wasn't shy about what he wanted, she wanted the same thing.  Stepping out of them she noticed that the back of his knee had a hint of something but she couldn't make it out just yet.  But that was fine she fully intended to explore him anyway.  Stepping forward he pulled her close with one arm, hovering slightly.  He didn't press her against him, though she wasn't sure why, so she closed that last distance and brushed her fingers across his chest. 

Then he was kissing her.  Zyrao enjoyed the taste of his lips, the feel of his chest and hers pressed against one another.  She slid one of her hands into the back of his hair on his head enjoying the feel of his short hair brushing against her fingers.  She could feel his hand on her back, barely touching her there, trying to avoid the scars and yet there were so many he wouldn't be able to avoid them all.  She had spent a lot of years as a slave of various races, and they had all marked her in one way or another.  He would know, or have read anyway, that she had been in the Gladatorial arenas of the Kzin.  She had been victorious quite frequently.  She was a fighter, not only for her life, but for whatever she tackled.

“Don't baby me.” she whispered as their kiss broke and she found herself breathless.  “You can't hurt me.”

He asked her what was next, stepping back and giving her room.  “Well not that.” she said with a grin on her face as she closed the distance again and put herself back into his arms and kissed him again.  But at the same time she walked them back towards his bed.  Every step brought them closer to her bed, every step populated with a kiss.  Until he would feel it against the back of his knees.  Breaking the kiss she chuckled playfully before she pushed him down on the bed so that he fell on his back.  Zyrao unbuttoned her pants and let them fall to the ground leaving her in just her panties and sports bra at this point.  Her legs were as completely tattooed as her torso.  She dropped her panties to the floor and stepped out of them, and the pulled her sports bra and tossed it to a chair close by.  Then Zyrao climbed up on the bed and crawled over him to resume kissing him soundly.  Holding herself up over him with one muscular arm, her other hand was exploring his gorgeous chest hoping to get him all revved up or at least started that way.

[Lt. JG Foval |All I need to know | Perfection | One more hurdle]
@BZ 

She explained her reason for keeping the Scars and the tattoos, they were part of her as she said.   He would accept that.   His curiosity sated, he had more ways in which he wanted to learn about her 

She told him not to baby her.   He didn’t know if he could hurt her or not, but again, he was happy for her to know it.   He chose to keep his thoughts on this silent as well.  

Foval was by no means a virgin, but he hadn’t experience foreplay as passionate as this before.   His heart was already beginning to pound in anticipation of what would come next.   There was a laugh, and for  a brief fraction of a second, he throught he had fallen victim to a crude practical joke.   Then she pushed him onto the bed.  

And then she stripped.     She had taken the crude and soulless tattoos, added her own ink, and her own art kept her beautiful.   It was too abstract a concept for Foval to articulate.    He wasn’t vaccous enough to admire her for her beauty, or to expect her looks to be less desirable as a result of her trials.   And yet, there was something there, some spark that kept her beauty inspite of the challenges that she had faced.  

He returned each kiss, his flesh arm stroking her back, while his cybernetic arm caressed the arm on his chest with more weight behind it than before.  

“At the risk of interrupting this pleasurable activity.”   He said between kisses.    “I think a brief pause is in order to remove my shorts.    They are becoming an… encumberance”  

[Zyrao Natauna | Feels Too Good | New Relations | Building Something]
@Number6




Their kissing was heavenly.  She didn't mind the cool metal of his hand warming on her skin as he slid over her body getting to know her nude form.  Zyrao was not a shy woman, in fact, that was probably the most opposite adjective that could be used to describe her.  She preferred to be out there, in your face, full frontal, as well as honest.  She despised those that didn't tell the truth or believe in others.  When Zyrao built trust she wanted it built well and for a reason.  She wanted everything to be as it was supposed to and she wanted everything to be as it was supposed to be.  She wanted to rely on people in the heat of the moment and know that it would be just fine to do so.  She wanted and needed to know who she could and could not count on.  These were the important things in life to her.

The kiss broke, Zyrao was breathing a little heavily as he looked up at her with his lovely eyes and reminded her that they might need to take a brief pause, his shorts weren't going to remove themselves and they were growing more uncomfortable.  A knowing and playful grin crossed her plump lips as she suddenly rolled to the side and lay on her back now on the bed.  Letting him have his moment to rise up and remove the shorts from his person.  Her striking grey eyes were watching his every move and as he exposed himself to her, she took all of him in visually.  Since he had been able to do it before hand, now she was going to enjoy the fruits of her own labor.

As Foval moved back forward, Zyrao pulled herself up so that she was raised up on her elbows watching him come back to the bed.  The bedding shifted with his weight added to the mattress.  Her eyes locked onto his waiting for him to come forward to her.  As he did so, she grinned again, and then kissed him once more. Zyrao was not always forward and dominant, but often was.  Sometimes she wanted both, to be dominated and to dominate.  A bit of give and take.  Right now she was letting Foval have a chance to show her what he had, what he liked, what he wanted.  She didn't want to be in a hurry she wanted to enjoy Foval, even though this was only their first time and she had plans for so many more.

Her hands moved up his back, over his shoulders, and down his chest.  Zyrao slid down so that she could kiss along the implant on his chest.  Her lips playing with the skin around the implant her fingers brushing up and down his waist and his hips, getting a good feel for his body as lovely as it was.  Waiting for him to decide what move he wanted to make.  She hoped he didn't mind being a little bit forward at times, she would prefer if they were both the kind that could go with one another... bicker a bit, fight in the bed, roll around, wrestle, enjoy themselves.  Make being together fun every moment possible.

[Lt. J.G Foval | Free at last | Exploring with just his lips and tongue |the game is afoot]
Attn: @BZ

Foval’s eagerness was visible as soon as the shorts came off.   Another Borg Implant was just above his left hip.    Although he knew this woman less than a few hours before, something just seemed to click, and this felt utterly right.   He was starting to feel like the real him was coming out   Not the Borg Drone, he was dead, so was the Vulcan Foval.   The diplomatic officer was his vocation, but this, naked and in the sight of the gorgeous enigma, was the real Foval.   Perhaps a little bit of them all, and yet something else entirely.  

She intertwined herself all over him, softly kissing him, and yet it was clear that he was waiting for him to make a move.   As he laid on top of her, he pushed his way down, kiissing her neck, her breasts, tracing over her figure with his lips and tongue, his beard stroking against her bare skin.      He hissed her stomach, either side of her sex, wondering if just for a second she should probe inside with his tongue.  

He put his hands against hers, interlocking their fingers together.   He rolled over onto his back, kissing t her stomach.   He placed his hands on her hips, and guided her towards his hardening shaft.  

He was curious to see what her next move would be.   It was almost a game of sorts between them, and like any good game it was important to see where ones strategies led.     

[Zyrao Natauna | Close is Always Better | In Bed and When Fighting | A New Leaf]
@Number6




There was another little pocket of 'Borg' on his hip, she liked all the little surprises that she was finding here and there as more of his clothing came off and hit the floor.  Zyrao pulled herself upwards onto her elbows so that she could enjoy the view while she had it.  Because at some point they would be so close that she knew they weren't going to see much of anything.  However, she had to admit that she very much enjoyed the view.  He was not as Borg as he could have been, she had seen some bodies that had been more implants and prosthetic than they had been flesh.  However, luckily, Foval had retained mot of his Vulcan body and just had some implants he must have been in very good health when he was assimilated. 

The longer that they spent together the more he seemed to become more of himself.  She had to admit the more comfortable he was in her presence the more he was attractive.  Zyrao most definitely appreciated a man that was confident in himself and the woman that he had chosen.  Honestly, Zyrao herself had very little self conscience, well at least concerning her body.  Truth be told, she had to admit that she had some times when she was a bit shy.  Mostly the back of scars and tattoos, and some of the things she had done in the past.  However, she knew that it was her history and her past and it was the foundation that she had built herself up on.  She had survived over two hundred years of hardship and made it through all of that so that she could become the person that she was now.

He mounted the bed again, it shifting with his weight as he did so, and her eyes followed him as he climbed up and kissed her.  Starting with her neck, one of her favorite places to be kissed.  Zyrao tilted her head to the side to give him more room to play if he wanted to.  He worked his way down to her breasts and traced over her figure with his lips and his tongue.  Enjoying the flavor of her skin, the ink beneath it was undetectable and yet he would see all the patterns and the different ways that they had been done.  Some more primitively than others but never the last, she enjoyed the way that his facial hair brushed over her skin.  A little rough, but still soft and smooth at the same time.  He didn't have much of a beard, a fact she appreciated it.  She had slept with too many Klingon to appreciate a heavy long beard when it came to the bedroom. 

He kissed downward and she wondered if he was going to take the plunge and go between her legs to taste the flavor of her excitement but he did not.  Instead, he reached up and slid his hands into her own.  Before he rolled over on his back.  Oh it's a game, is it?  She didn't know it was for certain but the fact that he pulled away before doing anything at all told her that something was afoot, and she was more than willing to rise to the challenge.

She rolled over, but unlike him she started lower.  Moving to the implant on his hip and brushing her lips across it while her grey eyes locked with his.  Then she moved over and pursed her lips over his hardened member and blew hair on it slowly as she moved upwards towards the hip.  Just to toy with him, she ran her tongue over he very tip of it before moving upwards.  Causing his member to brush against her flat stomach while she worked her way up his body.  Her lips and tongue, like his, began to explore all of the planes of his body.  Sliding up and making sure that she explored his entire body as much as she could before getting to his neck. She found his pulse point and began to suckle at it for a moment, hoping to drive him wild, to make him grip her, to make him hold her. 

Then, when she finished leaving a lovely red mark behind she worked on his lips.  Shifting up just enough to kiss him fully, to make sure it was deep and passionate and would only serve to rev him up even more.  Though, she did not lower herself on his prominent member, no, she was going to make him do it.  So instead, she hovered over him, kissing him and grinding her hips just ever so slightly into his hardness to drive him to want her to the point where he took her.

[Lt. J.G. Foval | out with the old | Something else |Yielding the field]

Attn: @BZ

As the game went on, he felt free.  Liberated from the Borg, but liberated from the lies that he put on himself after his escape  she began to kiss her way up his body.  She softly blew against his solid shaft.  At the feeling pf her tongue against him, he unleashed a grunt of anticipation, the first sound he had made, the sensation driving him wild, unleashing real emotion within him, emotions that had been locked up within him since his assimilation, possibly even before.  Foval was becoming. 

As she  nusseled at his neck, and then kissed him fully on the mouth, there were grunts of anticipation, vocalising emotions long repressed.  Though they were still soft, there was no mistaking the meaning behind them.  His hands, firmly exploring her body, both hands were working in unison, there was no mistaking the strength of his grip, or the intensity that was continuing to build. 

She had won, in some senses she always would.  Though he would always enjoy playing the game with her.  He took her hips in both of his hands and picked her up slightly  He held guding her to what he wanted, holding his throbbing tip against her entrance.  He looked into her grey eyes, the hunger and emotion visible in his.  With another gasp, he slid his hardness into her.    He gasped, feeling her against him, one of the few places where he still felt alive even alone in the years after the crash to finally begin to share that with someone he arched his back trying to get more of himself into her.   

[Zyrao Natauna | A Good Release | Time for Fun | A Good Match]
@Number6




She knew she had won the moment she stopped fighting for control.  He no longer pushed her into the bed and wanted to fight for it, instead, he was giving it to her.  She was on top, and she was in control, and the way his hands moved over her body she knew that he wasn't going to hold off much longer.  They were gentle and yet they were firm.  Earlier when she had told him that he didn't need to be gentle was really just meaning that she didn't need him to baby her. She didn't want him to hurt her or cause her pain but she also didn't mind him being firm and going after what he wanted.  Still, maybe at some point he would grow more comfortable with such things.  Until then she would take the gentle caring touches that he was using at the moment to explore her body. 

As his hands found her hips he lifted her up slightly, and the kiss that they had been enjoying began to break.  Her eyes and his instantly found one anothers.  Her eyes were a firey grey color as she looked down at the man that had caught her interest in a surprising way.  He didn't say anything as he lowered her down onto his thick shaft and she slid herself down his length slowly, not because she needed the time to get used to him but because it would make savoring it all that much better.  As he felt completely inside her, she could feel him arching his back so that he could get any more length into her that might not be completely filling her at that moment.

She didn't mind his extra hardware, she didn't mind the Borg implants or how he thought he was still not quite himself, because to her he was Foval and she had never know another Foval than this.  This was the one that she had kissed in the bar and this was the one she had brought back to her own place.  Finally, she began to move her hips, sitting up on his body instead of leaning over so that he was hitting all the right spots.  Zyrao began to moan, her head tilted backwards at first as the first waves of sensation began to wash over her.  Zyrao continued to ride him as much as she could grunting and moaning and allowing them both to enjoy one another, her eyes looked into his, her hands and his locked together. 

After a little bit though, she wanted him to take control for her, and so she twisted rolling them so that she was on the bottom and he was on the top.  Her legs spread as wide as she could get them so that he could remain as deep as he wished.  Zyrao pulled him down so that they could kiss again, her lips suckling at his lower lip, her tongue invading his mouth, her hips grinding against his waiting for him to take his turn in how he wished to have her tonight.

[Lt J.G Foval | Masks falling | Our Dance | My Goal]

Their dance was a different one, but it was theors  He remained confident, if not sure that there wasn’t another like theirs.  He kissed her hungrily, careful not to push too hard, but enough so that there could be little doubt as to the former Vulcan Borg’s disposition towards his companion.  This wasn’t a conquest, it was a victory over himself. 

She rolled them over again, Now on her back his green eyes locked with her grey ones  His eyes conveyed more than perhaps even words could.  They spoke of freedom, relief, maybe even joy as he cast off the twin yoke of Vulcan conditioning and Borg assimilination. 

His movements were becoming rhythmic now, as she felt her warmth around him, it felt utterly right.  He had thought that this was denied to him, that he’d be forced to be alone.  Yet now he had the gift of hope.  His pace quickened, memories of the past, doubt, , fear vanishing in clouds of pleasure.  As his pace quickened, the only other concern he had was not harming Zyrao.  This was their moment, and he was determined that it would be shared, she would not be used by him, their moments would be shared. 

His head swimming with arousal and excitement, his pace further quickened as the instnincts took over more than they had in 2 decades. 

[Zyrao Natauna | New Leaf | Trying Again | Maybe This Time | Eventually.]
@Number6



When their eyes met, there were stories, emotions, and trust flying between them.  Nonverbal communications moving between them allowing them to deepen their continuing connection while they had a chance.  She loved the way they could be together, this moment was quite special.  She was not a slow warmer, but she had tried to wait from time to time and found that only stagnated things.  That and with her last relationship as short as it was she had found that only some people could handle someone like Zyrao.  She needed someone that would be able to keep her in line but at the same time, let her stand on her own, and let her lean against when things were rough.  However, she was not used to having anyone to lean again, and so it was a learning process for her too, to be able to coexist with someone after centuries of being alone for the most part.

His movements were quicker, more passionate, and the pressure of his hands on her body was just perfect.  Neither hard enough to hurt nor too gentle.  She appreciated that he wasn't afraid to put pressure on her, she wanted to feel his touch and she did not want to be coddled, she wanted to be loved, and there would be times she would want to be ravaged, though he would probably need to be more comfortable with her before he was ready to do something like that. 

They kissed as they moved in unison together on the bed ruffling up the covers, the sheets, and testing the bed for a little bit.  Zyrao's hands were exploring his body, his back and how the muscles moved underneath the skin there, sliding down to his hips and his backside to clasp it and give it a good thrust forward for something a little harder here and there.  Zyrao was as open to him as she could be, enjoying very much how he felt inside her.  This was perfect and everything she needed today.  Together they moved, though the kissing stopped with the both of them were moving so fast working up to climax that they couldn't match their lips long enough to make the kiss worth while. 

Zyrao buried her face in his neck moaning out loudly, as they neared their climax which happened only moments later.  He buried himself deep as he could inside her giving her everything he had, and she was clenching him as much as she could to get all that she could out of him.  Both their bodies shaking in the aftermath of their time together.  As they both finished Zyrao continued to hold him against her letting them both start catching their breath.  Finally, he rolled off of her and to the side, and she rolled onto her side so that she could lay against him.  Laying her head on his chest, listening to his heart thrum heavily against her ear.  Zyrao felt her grey eyes close for a moment as she rested allowing her heart to come back to normal.  She was in very good shape, muscles and tight skin everywhere with the sheer amount of exercise she did in a day not to mention her fighting, her gifts with the Klingon who she lived with for a long time.

“That was amazing.” she said once she was capable of speech.  Sliding up on his body slightly so that she could put her head on the pillow next to his own her grey eyes were softer now.  Normally, those silver orbs were fierce and 'take no prisoners' type.  However, right now, they were open and soft, there was something about just after sex that could really open a person up though that tended to be mostly if it was something more than a quickie.  This felt like it could be more, she wanted it to be more, but that was also up to Foval because she wasn't the sort that was going to ask him to be with her.  That wasn't her way, he was going to have to prove that was what he wanted in some way.  But, she wasn't sure he was that sort.  She didn't really want another misunderstanding that destroyed a relationship like her last one.

“What is on your mind right now?” she wondered out loud.

[Lt. JG Foval| Resting but not caged| finding the words | Looking to the next day] @BZ

As they lay there, the beast within him rested, but it wasn’t caged    This encountered had changed him.  He felt oddly free, free of Borg conditioning, or the pretence that he could return to life as a Vulcan as if nothing had happened.    The strong woman laying beside him had freed him.    As if she could read his thoughts, she asked her question. 
Her question had lots of answers, yet.  Good?  Yes, but incredibly non committal.  Weird?  Yes, however, he did not trust the universal translator to accurately convey his feelings at that particular moment without coming across an insult.  Instead, more a more detailed answer was the order of the day.   

“I am sure you have heard of the chemical ‘imbalances’ that affect my people.” Naked, drenched in sweat, not to mention having shared other bodily fluids, it was still odd for him to discuss the Ponn Farr.  “After the necessary encounters to restore balance… after sex… we feel a moment of self loathing as if we have failed in controlling the natural order.    Although my brain was scrambled when I was assimilated, and got out of the collective there was something… wrong about my encounters.  This…” he gently stroked her side as tenderly as he could imagine. “This feels right.  I don’t feel the loathing, the negativity.    For the first time I don’t feel like I am pretending to be a person.” 
“I am familiar with the concept of casual sex.” He said in a forthright Vulcan tone.  “I was compelled to take part in some on the planet.    While I would have no objection to engaging in future encounters, I’d prefer our relationship to develop.    I am not asking for your hand in marriage, I just... want to be with you.”   

He really felt that his precise Vulcan Language was totally inappropriate for what he was trying to convey. 

[Zyrao Natauna | Changing of the Guard | Enjoying a Little Downtime | Wish it Could be More | Up For More]
@Number6




She could see the thoughts racing past his face though she could not read his mind she was quite gifted at reading faces.  Though that wasn't an exact science and while she could tell he was likely fondling for the answer he wanted to give and commit to, she also knew that there was no way to know what all of the options that he had were.  So, she waited because she knew that he would come up with it when he was ready and Zyrao was a fairly patient women when it came to some things and knowing that the right words could mean the most she waited to see what he finally decided on.  True to his very Vulcan way he began to explain the very chemical changes and the differences in DNA and genes that were different.  Her grey eyes shifted up and she gave him a single nod to let him know that she was following along with his train of thought so far.

He explained to her that often after sex and all the good feelings faded away that they often had a sense of self loathing as if they were failing in their efforts to control their natural ways.  They should be able to control their bodies and their desires to not want for what they had taken.  Carnal pleasure was probably seen as a wasted thing unless in time of necessity for procreation.  His brain had been changed, she did not like the word scrambled and would have to at some point remind him to stop degrading himself so hard.  But he got a feeling that something was wrong before, but this.. he said turning his attention to her more fully his hand moving up and down her side gently. 

He confessed that it felt right.  He wasn't feeling any of the negativity that he usually associated with something, and he didn't feel like he was pretending to be a person, but instead, was actually feeling as though he was a person.  She smiled warmly at him leaning forward just enough to press her lips against the corner of his mouth so that she didn't hinder his speaking.  He told her that he was familiar with the concept of casual sex, and that he was compelled to take part of it on the planet where he and other Borg were stranded for some time.  But that he would have no objection to further physical encounters there was hope they could actually develop what they had begun into an actual and honest relationship. 

Before she could be concerned, which she wasn't, he promised that he was not asking for her hand in marriage earning a chuckle from the woman that in two hundred plus years of being herself, she had never married.  And only loved perhaps really once, maybe twice, but not all love was the nurturing and good kind.  She was hoping that she and Foval could develop something that was supportive and healthy instead of jealous and angry. 

"And I with you." she admitted.  "I find myself drawn to you.  Initially, seeing you as part Borg brought back many fears of my past, and some of the anger with it as well.  However, in speaking with you, I found myself finding you less Borg and more someone that I could understand and seemed to understand me.  I find that you and I fit well together and I am eager to see if we can develop a full relationship going forward.  I will admit that, I have not always been good at relationships.  So if you are willing to bare with me as I learn to be accepting and learn to be a partner... I would really wish to pursue something more meaningful relationship with you if you are open to that sort of thing."

Laying her head back on the pillow right beside his shoulder, her hand brushed over his chest, not minding when she found the Borg implants, and not minding when she found flesh.  All in all she found him attractive, not just in his body, but his mind as well.  "I will warn you of one thing though, I do not wish to share.  If you are into sharing, which I think regarding your earlier commentary, you are not.  Then we will not get along well, I do not wish to be shared, and I do not share.  I will admit that as old as I am, I find myself seeking something more permanent and less temporary."

Her eyes shifted to his.  "Is it the same with you as well?"

[Lt. J.G Foval| Thinking about the future | Admitting the truth | Last hands of cards on the table} @BZ
He found himself admiring her again, not just for her form, which he found highly compelling, but her thoughts, her honesty and her forthrightness.  As a Vulcan he had always struggled with the nuances of  interaction with more emotional beings, While she was hardly plain, having someone who told him what she wanted rather than masking her true feelings, was deeply refreshing    She asked if he thought they could be together, he had no compunction in answering. 

“Yes” he replied as he kissed her head.  “I think I woud want that very much.” 

She explained her position wanting exclusivity.  He almost laughed when she said she didn’t want to share. 

“Zao, I have never told anyone this    I…”  it was difficult, he allowed himself to carres her side again, feeling as if their very touch gave him the strength to continue.  “As I mentioned, my Borg ship crashed on an empty world.  The survivors, a few hundred fell into two categories.  Those like me, who had been with the collective a relatively short time, and/or were from this part of space, and those who were from further afield, or had been assimilated as children.  Our faction wanted to wait until rescue, the other faction sought to be returned to the collective.”
He wondered if he had made a mistake.  No, I must share this. 
“Our faction had an additional problem, we had high numbers of races with an antagonistic history most notably a sizable faction of Klingons and Romulans.  The Klingon side was led by K’Margh, and the Romulan was side was led by Vissen.  There was a sense of sexual tension between them, which was impeded.  K’Margh’s reproductive organs were obstructed by a Borg exoskeleton which could not be removed safely.  In order to keep the peace, and prevent a war on two fronts, Vissen convinced me to…” 

He let go of her, “… convinced me to let K’Margh into his mind, and be a proxy for him.” 

“They both consented, nevertheless the shame of it will be something I will carry with me to my dying day.  In order to keep our faction together, I connected minds with 2 people, something that was actually outlawed amongst us, so that I could satisfy the carnal desire of a Klingon.”   

He sat up.  “I only tell you this story, because I have no desire to share  in the way that you speak.” 

[Zyrao Natauna | Truth | Forward | Ground Zero | Starting From Scratch]
@Number6




There was a bliss laying there beside him in that moment.  She had put her hopes out there, not that she would be crushed if he believed otherwise.  Truthfully, she knew that many preferred to share, or to do whatever they wished, to be untied down.  Zyrao was over two hundred years old, her playful years were over and she wished to have something with a bit more meat.  She wanted someone to build with, to grow with, and to stand beside when things got tough.  She only hoped that he could stand the fact that she would be less understanding when it came to being naked with other women.  Or women coming onto him strongly, because Zyrao had been Klingon for so long she would make sure that she asserted her female dominance publicly if necessary.

When he kissed her head softly and told her that he would wish for the same thing she did, a bit of a smile curled on her full lips.  That was all she needed really, she wasn't after someone to propose to her for marriage or anything of the sort.  Perhaps one day, but she was fine with never truly being married so long as exclusivity and growth was the name of the game.

He began to tell her of the story of him being on the planet with the other stranded Borg.  At first she did not understand the purpose of the story until he began to get deeper into it as he began to tell her that there was someone who was unable to consummate with the woman he desired.  Because of his Borg implants he was not able to be with her the way that he wished to, so instead, they had linked with Foval in order for him to have sex with the woman so that the man could actually feel it in the way that he wish.

Zyrao was appalled that something like that had happened.  To be used as such a vessel was horrific and a violation of everything that she could even imagine someone would hold dear.  She could not imagine that something like that was even possible.  She truly hoped that it was not something that would ever be repeated in his life.  He didn't deserve such treatment and he didn't deserve such horrors, in his life. 

Zyrao pulled her head off the pillow and looked at Foval with those lovely grey eyes of hers.  She shifted over and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips before laying her head on his shoulder this time in the perfect spot as though carved out for a head to be supported like a pillow.  “If I have anything to say for it you will never know such an instance again.  You will only know first hand accounts with me.” she said with a grin. 

“You are mine.  I may be jealous at times, I do not take people moving in on my territory very well, you are not territory, but it is the best word I can think of in standard that fits.” she admitted with a sigh, some words didn't translate throughout various languages perfectly.  “I hope you do not mind, I will not allow another to cut a wedge between us.  I will, however, put myself fully into growing a good relationship between us.  I do appreciate the chance to do so.”

Zyrao slid her leg up ontop of his and snuggled into him as much as she could pulling one of the twisted blankets up over their bare bodies, her eyes slid closed as she got comfortable.  “I will protect you Foval, not a single person shall dare lay a hand or force you to do a single thing while I am part of your life.” she swore to him.

[Lt. J.G Foval | First time for everything| The Vow    | Got her back too] @BZ

It was strange for him to be so jealously protected.    Every relationship had been a logical pragmatic one there was little given to his needs.   As he laid their, her body intertwined with his, he thought about the things he could do for her.  

“Zyrao, you’re able to protect us both, but whatever I can do to keep you safe as well, it will be my main priority.”  

He meant it too.   99% of the time, he knew that he would be able to achieve that goal by doing his duty, and doing what he could do to keep the Theurgy safe.   However, if ever the goals were not mutually compatible, he was ready to choose her.   He knew that he could resist most romantic advances, but in an increasingly hostile state of affairs the Theurgy found itself in, it certainly did the Vulcan good to know there was someone on the ship who had his back.  

She wrapped herself around him, and he wrapped his arms around her in a proitective embrace.   He kissed the top of her head once more.  

“And should anyone make an unwarranted move on you, please leave me some of them after you ‘correct’ them beating, so that I may ‘explain’ their error to them further.”  

[Zyrao Natauna | An Odd Start | Asleep Safely | Sharing a Life | Grounding]
@Number6




He told her that he knew that she could take care of whatever happened.  She appreciated that he wasn't afraid to say it out loud.  So many men would start talking about they would protect her even knowing deep down she didn't need them to do so.  She didn't mind being the more physical one in the relationship, she didn't mind being stronger she had never once, in her life, wished for someone to protect her.  Though she could appreciate the fact that he would want to if that was the case.  She knew that he would stand in front of her if it was necessary just as she would do the same to him.  But, that didn't mean either one of them were weak.  They were all just people that wished to care for others. 

“I will leave you enough pieces to enjoy.” she assured him sleepily.

Her head rested on his chest and her eyes closed again her arm wrapped around his waist even more fully.  A long yawn escaped her mouth and she found herself snuggling into the warm strength of the man she had just enjoyed.  Her body relaxed more fully one leg sliding up between two of his so that they were laying entangled with one another.  Blindly she pulled a blanket up off the corner of the bed to cover their bodies and it wasn't but a few moments later that her breathing evened out and she slept peacefully on his chest.  Her lips relaxed, her face relaxed, a different side of Zyrao for sure. 

==Morning After==


The first thing that Zyrao always realized when she woke up was her surroundings.  Her eyes never opened first and she had well trained herself to keep her breathing deep and even while she figured out what was going on around her.  She could hear the beating of the heart under her ear, and the intake of breath in lungs filling and exhaling at an even pace.  She could feel the warmth of the body beside her though they had shifted slightly in their sleep they were mostly in the same position as the night before.  Though the blanket had worked it's way up around her shoulders due to the chill in the room and the lack of clothing.  She could hear the sounds of her Quarters, and knew that she was safe, which finally allowed her to know that it was safe for her to actually open her eyes.

She shifted to see that Foval was still asleep, so moving carefully, she got out of the bed leaving him covered so that he would be able to remain warm.  Dressing in a pair of loose lounge pants and a simple tank top she headed to the other side of the room where she was able to begin her morning routine.  First, was always tea.  She replicated the hot water only, everything else was all natural.  She headed over and put her morning tea into two small metal strainers, held over the cup as she poured the water slowly and carefully the aroma of her morning tea began to fill the Quarters as she worked to make sure that it was perfect and ready for their morning. 

She hoped that he wouldn't be adverse to tea, it was almost a religion to her.

[Lt. Foval |  Floating through the Past | Washing clean |  Waking Up] attn: @BZ

Foval washed up on the shore, the darkness that was around him oused sinisterly back into the waters from which he emerged.  He turned around to see his family home.  Modern by Vulcan standards, I  his darkest moments his thoughts would often return to its walls.  He opened the doors, and the house was empty    Instead of  moving through the house, he was levitating.  It all felt so normal somehow.  His trip stopped at each room of the house.  His father’s study, gone, the kitchen, dining room, and bedrooms all empty.  His dorm room from the academy empty    His quarters on the Tolstoy empty.    He mused on the many rooms in the house when he found a new set of doors.  He stepped through them, and found himself standing before a bridge.  He stood on the bridge and looked back towards the house, it was a burnt out husk, with towers of burnt out Borg technology extending from it.  The sickening green light flickered, the breeze carrying the sound of screams and accusations that he had heard for years now.  Slowly they dissolved into the night  The breeze carried a warm scent in the air.   

The hooded figure gestured towards the house.    Huge chunks of the borg tech were falling into the black river.    In its place stook a huge painting of the house as it was in his memory.    He turned to face the figure and he followed herover the bridge into. 

The smell of the dream was still there.    Like the waters from his dream, his memories of the dream began to wash away.  He vaguely remembered something of his house, the building was handed to a charity for Dominion war orphans after his parents moved to a smaller bungalow.   

He had dreamt.  For the first time in an absolute age, he had dreamt a dream, and not been haunted by nightmares.    Whatever Zyrao had done for him. 

Zyrao.  He was in her quarters.    He had slept, in someones quarters.   

“Zyrao.” He said.  He wasn’t sure if it was a question, or q request. 

[Zyrao Natuana | Morning After | Morning Tea | Morning Routine | Different Day]
@Number6




Zyrao noticed him stirring though she did not turn to look.  She could hear the slight shift of his skin against the sheets, and the way that the mattress beneath him shifted as he did trying to pull himself out of his dreams and towards the waking world again.  Zyrao dreamed often, though the only time those dreams truly affected her was when they were the nightmares of the Borg and the planet that she had lost all those decades ago. 

However, when she finished pouring the water into the cups and allowing the tea to begin to work itself into the proper color, with the right amount of caffeine for function, she heard him call her name.  She turned then, her hair slightly mussed from the fact that she had just woken.  Putting both the cups on a small black stone tray that she had brought from her apartment on Aldea, she carried them over to the bed where Foval was just now pulling himself into a sitting position.

“That would be me.” she said with a confident smirk.

Putting the tea down on the mattress close to him she turned and headed to the replicator to get some food.  Just some simple fair, the fact that she didn't really know what he liked to eat required that she wasn't replicating something complex.  Instead she settled for a fruit selection from across the galaxy so that they could each chose what they preferred the most.  Returning to the bed with the tray of fruit she placed it beside the stone tea tray and lowered herself down into a sitting position next to Foval with her legs crossed.

“I take it you slept as well as I.” she admitted as she picked up her tea, and took the first sip.  Zyrao was not all about manners but she certainly wasn't messy.  Tea was a precious beauty and she was not want to waste a single drop if she could help it.  With half the cup drank in the first couple sips she retired the cup momentarily to the tray and picked up the small fruit fork spearing a sweet but disgusting looking Klingon fruit that she had gotten attached to in her tenure with them.

“I was uncertain if you would still be present in my Quarters come light.  I am glad to see that you are, however, still here.  Last night was.. very pleasurable in many ways and on multiple levels.” she admitted before taking another bite of the fruit, her grey eyes looking over at the Vulcan-Borg that had somehow gotten himself a night with Zyrao and a possible future at her side if things continued in the same thread as they had begun.

“Do you have plans this morn?” she inquired.

[Lt. J.G Foval |Booting up call | spot of tea | daily plans] attn @BZ

His dreams slowly receded into his mind, as his Borg systems awoke.   Of course, all of the sinister borg programming was long gone, but his implants operational systems told him, in a way he couldn’t quite explain how long he had been asleep.   While his physiological implants were fully rested his Borg implants were currently at 87% efficiency.   Problems wouldn’t present themselves until the 40% mark, but he made a note to regenerate his implants at the next opportunity.  

So, as it stood, he could get on with business… or pleasure, unobstructed for a few days yet.   He watched as she brought a platter of the fruit, and a cup of tea   As a Vulcan, the beverage was something that he was used to, the consumption of which was one of the few pleasures that were deemed acceptible by his people.   She brewed it well too, the tea provided an energy to him that had ben previously lacking.  

He watched Zyrao as she drank.   Every moved seemed to be calculate around the tea.   He found it fascinating.    She asked him what his plans were.  
E took
“I have a meeting with my department later.” He said.   “We are trying to fix things together.   There have been many upheavals at departmental and ship level.   Hopefully the new department can hit the ground running and do its part to providing a sense of continuity for the ship on its mission.”  

It was somewhat ironic, he had first contacted Zyrao the previous day to discuss work, and the reality had been quite different.   Pleasurable, but different.   

He took a piece of the plainest looking fruit on the platter and took a cautious bite.  

“And you, what does your typical day look like?”

[Zyrao Natauna | Morning Calm | Getting Ready for Goodbyes | See You Soon | Next Time Your Place]
@Number6




Tea was life.

It was everything and a constant in her life no matter what.  When she had been a slave, she had still worked hard for tea.  When she could get her hands on leaves, roots, anything she could stew into a tea she would do it because tea was not just about the drinking and hydration it was more about the comfort of the tea.  The warmth, the soothing, the scent, the art of brewing and pouring the tea.  It was an art form in a way, as well.  She sipped at her tea and speared a small sticky fruit that looked very much like a Terran pear but it wasn't, it was a Klingon fruit that she enjoyed quite a lot truthfully.  She bit into it, it was sweet and sour all in one bite and one of her favorite things to eat when she could.

He admitted that he would be working, and there was a meeting of his department later in the day that he would be forced to endure.  Of course, he probably didn't mind meetings, she used to think that she didn't but the longer she stayed on with the Theurgy the more meetings she was asked to join in on.  She didn't mind, she preferred to be consulted rather than left out of decisions, having grown used to being a fairly important part of the ship all these years on the Klingon vessel she had called home for years.  However, she also grew tired of the politics and the needless back and forth that the Theurgy seemed so hell bent on playing with every time they got together in a singular room.

“I am certain I have things to do.  The Klingon visitors will be needing some debriefing and to smooth the waters over with them, during their visits and to make sure they are still placed far enough away from the Savi that we have no true issues.  I try to be the one that escorts them on the ship as much as possible to help control that aspect.  The last thing we need is a Klingon Savi battle in Corridor six.” she chuckled spearing a small red fruit she had found she had a liking for, it had been labeled a strawberry and had been grown years ago on Earth.

“Perhaps this evening, then, after shift, we could meet up again only at your place this time?” she teased inquiringly as she nudged him with her elbow and took another sip of her tea.  Grey eyes were watching him, but she wasn't in an odd or strange mood, but instead, in just a normal and dare she say happy mood at the moment.  Things were looking up at the moment and she hoped that would stay around because she quite enjoyed Foval.  But hearts were fickle, and it would not surprise her if someone else began to seek him out to steal him away from her.  She would not hold grudges so long as it was done in earnest and properly, but she hated backstabbing bitches.

“Or perhaps a holodeck adventure.”

- FIN