Day 04 [0800 hrs.] Down the Rabbithole

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Day 04 [0800 hrs.] Down the Rabbithole

November 10, 2021, 09:34:36 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Lower Science Labs | Deck 17 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Stegro88
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Samantha couldn’t believe that four days had already passed since they had brought Andrew back from Gorka’s prison camp. Time on Theurgy seemed to stretch into oblivion, in an attempt to contain all the action and turmoil that was happening any given hour. An amalgamation of terror and trauma, in essence, sure. But there were also those interspersed moments of delightful splendor and glorious tranquility, where the measure of time dilation truly shined. A beautiful instance of butterflies, flapping their wings in gentle waves, as the air of serenity rivaled a Ba’ku magic act. But regardless of such mawkish contemplations, the all too human propensity to bask in such glory boundlessly, exuberantly, one always had to consider the still finite quality of time itself. As it lurked bejond every corner, in the fine print of every mission, behind the eyes of every enemy … the taciturn judgment of death. And to that end – quite literally – one had to treasure every opportunity, every moment, despite the feeling as if they would go on forever. Because against better judgment, they did not.

That was why the diplomat had decided that she had little of it to waste, and that if she wanted to move on from these demons, she had to make amends with everyone that had helped keeping them at bay. Like a spiritual crusade, across the norther desert, to find inner peace through repentance and forgiveness. This morning she had sought out Lorad, through the ship’s internal tracking system, as its eagles had located the Reman down in science. He was the last one of the courageous team that had accompanied her to rescue Fisher, taking the brunt of the danger in the process, and selflessly so. And while there was a part of her that would’ve normally appreciated the adherence to duty and the absence of having to shoot someone for deserting the cause, this very instance of valor was reverberating a little closer to the core of her chest, than any regular mission would’ve. And as such, those involved merited a debt she could not repay with words … but she was still intent on at least trying.

Walking into the lower labs, the commander had to appreciate the fact that she had never been down here before. There wasn’t much crossover between diplomacy and science. Probably only superior to what little they had in common with tactical. The room split in half by an office on one side, contamination alcoves at the far end, as well as a round assortment of consoles in the middle. The tall Reman sticking out like a crocodile in a petting zoo. The blonde’s body reverberated with in an inaudible chuckle at the thought, pale pink lips curving into a faint smile, as she crossed the threshold towards the man sitting on a stool by a console. His upper jacket removed halfway to reveal a cybernetic arm from the elbow down. To this point the woman had not conceived of how far up it potentially went. There was no other officer in the immediate vicinity, so she took the opportunity for her final approach.

“Getting a little maintenance done, Petty Officer?” she asked suavely, letting her voice surf on the tranquility of the quiet room.

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #1 – November 11, 2021, 01:47:00 PM

 
"How’s that feel?” Chief Garvan Dixon asked Lorad as the Reman stood in the centre of the room and rolled his shoulders. “I’ve adjusted the torque in the wrist to give increased stabilisation of the joint during slashing and punching.” Lorad nodded and looked down at his right arm before running through several motions that allowed him to get a feel for how the limb responded. He’d already been warned that calibrating the replacement would take a while given the varied uses that it was intended for.

“I am still having trouble pulling my hand back,” Lorad responded, demonstrating how he could only move his wrist backwards 45 degrees. “I cannot slam this way.”

“Hmm, I might have to take the arm off again. Something must be blocking a sensor or servo somewhere,” Chief Dixon mused as he lifted a tricorder and began to scan the joint. The sound of the lab’s doors opening drew both of their attention and they looked over to see Commander Rutherford come around the corner. There was a moment of silence between the three of them before the officer queried if he was getting some maintenance done. Lorad’s pause as he mulled over the question allowed the Chief to respond for them both. “Just calibrating some additional features that Lorad here requested in his arm and hand. Should I give you two the room?” he asked, assuming that as the officer had addressed his patient that she was there to speak with Lorad and not him.

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #2 – November 12, 2021, 09:35:55 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Lower Science Labs | Deck 17 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Stegro88
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A large part of her diplomatic heritage was dealing with many different species and their respective idiosyncrasies, and at this point, Samantha had grown quite savvy in dodging procedural bullets and customary throw knives. Having an exceptional wealth of experience and teaching to look back on, as well as a seemingly infallible sense of catering to one’s individual sensibilities. But those were all tools of the trade and the leggy blonde very sparsely interacted with members of a different species on a personal level. Not even really with members of her own. Which was ironically a field of interaction she had grown out of touch with, and all her experiences from way back, at the academy and a few years prior maybe, before she sought refuge in the more straightforward embrace of duty and protocol. Besides, Starfleet officers weren’t exactly groomed to have a private life in the service. Not outside a few prominent examples maybe. So, as a result, now her interdisciplinary social skills seemed woefully outdated and inadequate. Which, she surmised at least, put her on a similar level with the taciturn Reman.

Not to offend.

Hanging back a bit hearing the Petty Officer speak to the scientist, the commander narrowed her lash lined pools of liquid aquamarine ever so gently, as if to focus in on the deeper intricacies behind the exchanged. Watching the mechanical components on Lorad’s arm shift as he moved digits and joints, finding the measure with which he judged his own mobility to be decidedly Reman. Almost to a measure of amusing her. Not an impediment of bringing a glass to his mouth, or even a toothbrush, but the inability to build up momentum for a good slam. And in a way, it genuinely made her appreciate the simplicity of thought. For a woman who had been around many duplicitous and disingenuous scumbags in her career, it was almost refreshing, to be able to take someone at face value. No matter the face looked like something off a Parisian cathedral. That was just her outward opinion as a member of a different species. Surely, he was considered quite handsome among his own, with his tall stature and broad shoulders.

Giving the scientist a courteous, albeit disinterested nod, as he chose to speak for Lorad, the blonde wondered for a brief second if he was going to narrate their entire conversation from this point on out. So, she was increasingly relieved to feel his presence slip away as coyly as it had presented itself. She hadn’t actually thought they needed the entire room to themselves. Actually, the sheer implication that they did need to “get a room” suddenly sent her into a heated flash of embarrassment, as pale blue orbs twinkled frostily towards the closing doors of the lab. Had that seriously been the insinuation?! Ultimately letting blonde curls bop around her head like soft coral in a turbulent sea, as she shook her delicate pate, the blonde presented her beautiful features back to the warrior prince, like a token of gratitude. Even though her true measure of appreciation was going to follow later. And apparently there was just no way anymore to make any of that sound not dirty. So, the commander simply gave into the comfort of acceptance of such implications and expelled a casual breath, as larimar eyes fluttered open, after having been momentarily cast over by a self-reflective blink.

“So …” she started out, her voice firm but warm, as if summer storms whistling in a birch grove. “… how are you feeling?”

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #3 – November 22, 2021, 03:28:39 PM

 
"No worries,” Chief Dixon acknowledged casually as he set down the tricorder he had been holding. “I’ll just be in lab three down the passageway when you are done. Take your time.” Without saying anything more or waiting for a response from either of the other occupants of the room, Dixon dismissed himself and exited the area, the doors swishing shut behind him in their characteristic way. Lorad watching him go before refocusing his mismatched eyes onto the new arrival. He knew who Lieutenant Commander Rutherford was and what she represented. What he didn’t know was why she had come all the way down to Deck 17 to apparently see him when it would have been easier for her to summon him up to her. Tilting his head slightly at that thought, and the slight reddening of the officer’s cheeks at something unseen, mulling both over for a second, Lorad rotated his cybernetic wrist, trying to judge where an obstruction might be.

"So ..." Commander Rutherford began, "... how are you feeling?"

“I am well,” Lorad responded slowly, choosing his words carefully. Despite his ongoing lessons in Federation Standard, he still had trouble framing sentences and often took a moment to think it through before speaking. “This is just...upgrades.”

“What you need of me?” the Reman asked, trying to sound as polite as possible as he continued to absently move his cybernetic wrist and fingers.

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #4 – December 12, 2021, 09:25:25 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Lower Science Labs | Deck 17 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Stegro88
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And it kept on talking … larimar ponds threatened to spill into the upper precipice of full lashes, as larimar marbles rolled around the ivory of the woman’s apertures. Her part-Vulcan physiology unable to understand the human naivety towards being superfluous entirely. Had she come to play Princess Telephone with the man, had her importance to the ship and the mission become so drastically reduced that she’d be able to entertain such dilly dally, she would’ve understood his notions. Yet at the overbearing evidence towards the contrary, she could only question the man’s mental fitness, in the matter.

Letting tropical lagoons cast their inviting glimmer on the Reman, as the sparkling icebergs had thawed, the blonde tilted her head slightly at what she perceived to be perplexity at her presence here. A notion that stood in stark contrast to the chief’s awareness, yet in far closer relationship to reality. And subsequently, her attention befell the periphery of his mechanical extremities, at the behest of the man’s words towards his augmentations. A solemn nod followed, validating the deeper implications of such a statement.

“Maybe I should call in for an upgrade, one of these days.” Samantha mused, a gentle smile curling at her lush petals, belying the perceived necessity for such an ‘operation’. She doubted there was anything in the realm of bionics that could augment her distinctive skills in a meaningful way. Which only fueled the gentle ambers of envy, towards being able to utilize modern science in an effort to better conform with one’s duties. Though, admittedly, given the man’s history, she understood not all of it was entirely voluntary.

An envy that was soon rationalized at the deeper understanding of how all the ‘upgrading’ could potentially not yield any advances in the field she herself was excelling at. I.E. talking. Yet it lent an almost simplistic charm to what she could only surmise to be a far deeper character than what was openly conveyed. Not all species were accustomed to judgment based solely on their outward expressions. Especially those with extra-sensory capabilities. Which she understood the Remans had. As did the Romulans, to an extent and the Vulcan’s, their ancestorial siblings.

“Well, aside of qualifying your wellbeing, I had also intended to communicate my gratitude and praise, towards your performance in the away mission to rescue Commander Fisher.” she acknowledged his mystification. “I understand it is commonly accepted in Starfleet that there is no reward in duty other than duty itself. But I beg to differ.” A notion that her Vulcan heritage barely held in high regard, if only for the prospect of increased efficiency, through understanding a (lesser) being’s need for validation.

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #5 – January 17, 2022, 03:40:03 PM

 
"I thank you,” Lorad intoned as he gazed at the woman with his mismatched eyes as he puzzled over her words and the intent behind them. “I do not know what is common for Starfleet,” Lorad pointed out slowly, choosing each word carefully. “I only did what I swore to do when I joined this ship’s crew. To do less would not make look good for me or for other Remans. How is Commander doing?”

He listened as Commander Rutherford explained some of what Commander Fisher had endured at the hands of the Klingons as well as what his immediate future held. While not personally experiencing capture by an enemy and the torture that came with it, he knew of others that had undergone similar experiences to the Commander and the difficult road back that they had had to undertake. Some of them had not reached the end of it.

“The Commander appears to be a man of great resilience,” Lorad said, stumbling over the pronunciation of the last word. “I believe he will be able to recover well as long as those around him are there to help him if he needs it,” Lorad advised as another thought occurred to him.

“How are you recovering?”

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #6 – February 07, 2022, 08:59:26 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Lower Science Labs | Deck 17 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Stegro88
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There was reprieve to be had, in the simplicity of a conversation not weighed down by duty, protocol or a hidden agenda. Like jumping off the side of a hydro skimmer, gear and ballast a token of gravity itself, until the fresh cold took it all away in a flurry of bubbles and swirls and you felt weightless amidst the levity of casual conversation. Yet, even such sentiments, were not intended to take away any measures of importance or gravity in its own, from the matters at hand – the partners in conversation. Much as someone would not prefer air over water, as a symbol of ever giving life.

And when the gentle comfort of conventionality was peeled away the diplomat surmised an equal sentiment of duty was prevalent within the Reman code of conduct itself. Yet she did not know for sure, on account of Remans not having been a political conversation partner that she’d ever met in official arbitration before. But maybe they would find their way to a larger voice eventually – after some thorough studies of Federation Standard that was. Which probably was the kind of heliocentric view to check at the door when diving into the comforting abyss of spontaneous dialogue.

“Close enough.” Samantha agreed, dipping her head in a grateful manner, feeling as if they had landed on the matter of appreciation regardless of cultural differences. “Commander Fisher is exceptionally well … I just visited him last night. And he was very insisted on conveying his personal gratitude as well.” she elaborated on Lorad’s second point, concluding with another gentle nod to further her point. “Once he is discharged from sickbay, of course.” Which was going to be rather sooner than later, if it was up to the foolhardy spy. Even more so it seemed ironic that the Reman was picking up on the very same sentiment just then. It quickly prompted a bubbly chuckle, cascading forth from plush lips. Yet she didn’t elaborate on the matter any further.

“I am well.” the words trickled from her tongue like molten gold, the second Lorad had posed the question, like Vulcan deftness and human candidness combined in a verbal repartee mechanism, honed by decades in the diplomatic service. A duty where words had to be charged and at the ready, akin to a pulserifle magazine before battle. Because seldom did you get the time to reload in the thick of it. Yet as the smoke screen of tact faded away came forth a measure of more genuine discretion, paired with somewhat softening features over unrelentingly chiseled bones. Just as the blonde could only mimic her human heritage so much, before the underlying Vulcan teachings came through.

“A long time ago I’ve settled into this comfortable mantra of closing the lid on my emotions, attached to any given situation, the moment said situation resolves itself.” Sam explained casually, though the larimar hues in her eyes, drifting into the opaque, betrayed the languidness displayed. “Else, how productive an officer would I be.” And with such bold proclamations the vibrant azure returned to lash-framed moonstone.

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs.] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #7 – April 25, 2022, 05:38:14 PM

 
The way the woman spoke, it felt strange to the Reman. While his skill with Federation Standard was improving, he was certainly no expert in expressing emotion in the language. Still though, the way Commander Rutherford was speaking, along with what she was saying, like she was trying to be more of a Vulcan than the Terran that she appeared to be. He had learned to wear a mask while under the yoke of the Romulans, but it was just that, a mask. He couldn’t tell if what he was seeing was the same thing or not though.

“I would not know,” Lorad responded honestly. “I do not know how to be officer. I not think I be good at it. Fighting is only thing I know be good at,” Lorad added in stunted Standard as he looked at the woman standing before him. “I not know how to be anything else.”

“Forgive me,” Lorad asked after a brief pause. “You remind me of Vulcan yet not look like one. Did you learn from them?” Immediately after asking his question, Lorad realised that he might be overreaching with it. “My apologies Commander,” he said softly, looking at the woman before him. “It not my business, no.”

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs.] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #8 – May 06, 2022, 09:29:42 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Lower Science Labs | Deck 17 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Stegro88
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The task of mending the crew, bringing those closer together who felt disenfranchised or excluded, surely wasn’t the duty of a chief diplomatic officer. But in the grander scheme of expressing gratitude towards the terse Reman, she wouldn’t be too far off extending a measure of unity as well. They were all fighting one common enemy.

“Well …” the blonde contemplated, letting azure glimmer wash over the cold veneers of the examination equipment. “… this is still a Starfleet vessel, and the Federation is built on the concept that everyone can be whatever they want to be.” she flawlessly recited the Federation inclusiveness mantra, that had been drilled into her at the diplomatic branch of the academy. Shrugging slender shoulders idly, barely perceptibly, her gaze met that of Lorad once more.

“As a matter of fact, we’re pretty good at utilizing each and every individual’s specific set of skills. You’re a fighter and you can take orders, from what I experienced … I don’t think there is that much more to being a security officer.” Which, maybe, was a gross generalization of that specific branch in Starfleet but it was at least the bare minimum requirement, in her eyes.

Regardless of that, however, it seemed that with this specific situation they were in, cut off from command and left to fend for their own, concessions had to be made to who could effectively serve on a starship. Which was evident in the considerable amount of basically ‘civilian’ personnel being assigned to critical functions aboard. So, in that regard her statement was still true. So true, in fact, that even without a commission, Lorad probably could be far more than he currently thought he could be.

“On a different issue … you wouldn’t know where I could find your sister? Or maybe you could express my gratitude towards her as well?” After all, the other Reman had played a vital part in Andrew’s rescue as well.

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs.] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #9 – August 19, 2022, 05:27:30 PM

 
Even to Lorad, Commander Rutherford’s recital of what the Federation was supposed to be seemed both rehearsed, and in a manner of speaking, pointless. They were on a renegade vessel, on the run because they tried to reveal that Starfleet had been infiltrated and was going against the very core of what she had explained them to be.

The irony, to Lorad, was that she then generalised exactly what he should be based on the skill set that he already had. In her words, ‘he was a fighter, and he could take orders’. Lorad forced his face to adopt that aloof, empty mask that had kept the Romulans from seeing how he really felt about what they were making him do. The only reason he had the skills that he had, and could take orders so well, was because it was beaten into him from almost before he could remember. He had never been asked, or offered, to be anything more.

“I not know my sister’s location or what Samala doing now,” Lorad deadpanned, his voice toneless as he turned around the scanner. “I can ask Thea or tell her when I see her,” Lorad offered, wondering why he suddenly felt as hurt as he did.

Re: Day 04 [0800 hrs.] Down the Rabbithole

Reply #10 – September 01, 2022, 04:04:09 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Lower Science Labs | Deck 17 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Stegro88
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Often times in diplomacy it was difficult to understand that different species, hell – even different individuals, could have diverse priorities and views. Yet it was just as much the job of any diplomat to accept this fact, and the differences, and not let their own values cloud their acceptance of others, but also keep track of the narrative they were advocating for and not losing track of their own morals, all the same. It was a balancing act that wasn’t easy to navigate, sometimes.

Ultimately Samantha took his quiet reaction and subtle change of stance as a reply in its own right. Once verbal communication on a subject ceased, it was usually best to move on from the topic and not press the issue further. Silence was the last polite way to say “we’re done” before reactions would become physical in nature. Not that she brazed herself for being attacked by the sturdy Reman. Not in the least. But she also had no intention becoming a nuisance to him.

“I … think I can do that myself then.” the blonde nodded with a complacent smile. Surely the ship’s computer wasn’t in the habit of losing crewmates. Something else shifted in the conversation, however, as the topic had. Yet the commander couldn’t initially put a finger on it, so to speak. Manicured brows furrowing in ginger concern, larimar hues shifted into a gentle hue of compassion, as they emerged from the luscious branches of long lashes within a blink.

- FIN