S2 M6 - The Spaces Between Us

[Solluk]

Katra Station - Station Commander's Ready Room - Ten Weeks Later

Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 73296.37

It has been ten weeks since the incident with the Atrosians, and I barely recognize the station.  Its beams and bulkheads are the same, but its character and soul are changed.

The court-martial proceedings ended six weeks ago, with similar results for both Jada and Rayek:  A catastrophic loss of rank, accompanied by a loss of position.

The only silver lining for either of them was brought about by Tess' testimony.  She muddied the waters with an elaborate theory about telepathic interference, for which there is little evidence.  But she did manage to raise a sliver of doubt in the minds of the court.  It was enough for Admiral Rostov to make sure that the judgment is probational.  If they can go the next several months without a further incident- thus proving that the offenses were the result of altered mental states and not willful insubordinate behavior- then their ranks may be reinstated.

The ultimate restoration of ranks is up to JAG Judges and Starfleet Brass.  I've kept them both in Security for now, until I decide what to do with them... and they decide what to do with themselves.

Trust has been broken.  It will take effort to repair that breach.

Meanwhile, I've had to get used to calling Rayek an Ensign and Jada a Crewman.

Mandatory psychological evaluations were included in the judgment.  It's anyone's guess as to how that will go.

Jada suggested she might be putting in for a leave of absence.  Whether this leave will become permanent, or whether she will return, is not clear to me.  I remember that she had some strong supporters among the admiralty.  She may find herself a new position elsewhere in the fleet, for all I know.  Even in the meritocracy of Starfleet, there are sometimes strings to pull.

As a concession to her exemplary service and sacrifices of the past, I've allowed her to say goodbye to her TMPST team before Saxon re-organizes security.  s'Metra, a relative of Jada's,  has been acting strangely lately, and I thought I saw more Orions than usual in the Promenade.  I have a faint recollection of being asked- months ago- about some kind of Orion celebration.  Something that ostensibly has to be done without official support, but with official understanding.  At the time, I agreed to the affair without reservation.

But times have changed.

I dread that the time for that celebration may be upon us, and I have no clear understanding what it may entail.  And to be frank, it couldn't come at a worse time, given all the changes that continue to unfold here.

The station is awash with new faces and new activity.

When Beja completed initial negotiations with both the Atrosians and Etrosians, I put in a request to Starfleet to provide some kind of transport options for the millions of asylum seekers.

My own people, the Vulcans, were among the first to respond.  Although I am something of an unwanted anomaly in my own culture, I took some pride in knowing that they are living up to their highest ideals.  Now I have twelve ancient Vulcan cruisers here in orbit of Meridian, brought here by a handful of Vulcan volunteers.  They are ready to be refit into colonial transports.

Lieutenant Goodspeed had long-since completed her refit of the Healy, and needed something new to occupy her time.  Now she will have her hands full converting these old relics into serviceable transports, while also quadrupling their passenger capacity.  This refit will include ripping out many dozens of science labs from the antique ships.  It occurred to me that some of the equipment in these labs may still useful today despite their age.

I have assigned Hrafn to the task identifying any useful science gear that should be salvaged rather than recycled into the drydock's matter banks.  Even now, she is already conducting a tour of the Vulcan flotilla to mark anything that seems promising so that Goodspeed can set it aside for our use.

In addition to the Vulcan cruisers, Starfleet also sent us a very familiar ship:  A grand Galaxy class vessel that I once served upon.  She's been recommissioned specifically so that she can perform escort duty for this evacuation and relocation project.  I must admit, it is nice to see the old lady in standard configuration again.  The X-project Starfleet trialed with her was ambitious, but ultimately flawed in conception.  Though the Galaxy class is large and powerful, it was never intended to become a hammer.  They were always better used as a beacon.

Everything I've detailed already is a whirlwind of activity, but it only encompasses half of the changes that are upon us.

Katra is getting two new Embassies.

The Tholians and the Klingons are establishing diplomatic offices here, and they've each brought cruisers to ferry their ambassadors and facilitate their operations.

Katra is no longer just an unimportant outpost on the corner of explored space.  Our encounters with the locals have brought Gamma Quadrant affairs to the attention of Alpha and Beta powers, and some of them have decided that it's time to turn their eyes in this direction.  The Federation, of course, is always happy to allocate facilities to encourage diplomatic discourse between nations.

Which brings me to the involvement of the Diplomatic Corps.

I don't know if I should be pleased or insulted that Starfleet has ordered me to assemble a department for the Diplomatic Corps here on Katra.

On the one hand, it means they are taking political affairs in the quadrant very seriously.

On the other hand, it means they are not entirely satisfied with how we've conducted our affairs thus far.

I can't really disagree with that assessment.  While we've been successful in achieving objectives, we haven't been successful in projecting the sort of image the Federation might like to have here in the Gamma quadrant.  Perhaps it's time for the more highly trained professionals to have at it.  To be honest, I'll be grateful for the additional support and advice.

I'm putting Beja in charge of our new Diplomatic Corps department, although I expect she'll be delegating most of the work to our new Diplomatic Officer, Zex.

Zex is a Deltan, and she has already been invaluable to the station.

She stopped a plot to destroy the station on her way over here, which is quite an accomplishment for a new transfer.

Apparently, our 'friends' at Thinkers, Inc. offered a civilian Bajoran computer programmer a seemingly impossible bribe: The resurrection of his lost love.  This, if he would re-program an antique Pakled transport to collide with the station.

Saxon has long suggested to me that we need stronger protocols surrounding docking procedures.  Upon hearing news of this planned terrorist plot, he insisted that the station tractor beams should be upgraded in power, and kept on hot standby for all docking operations in the future.  This, so that they can be used in case a seemingly non-hostile ship is turned into a weapon again in the future.  I've reviewed his proposal and ordered his advice to be implemented immediately.

By the time Lieutenant Rhade is done making the upgrades, the tractor beams of Katra station will be almost as formidable a defensive armament as her phaser emplacements.

Lieutenant Zex is our first Deltan officer on Katra.  As was required when we received Orion officers in the past, I have ordered pheromone blockers to be made available to any station personnel who may want them.

I have not asked that Zex use inhibitors herself, or swear any oaths of celibacy.  It's not her fault that the rest of us are so easily swayed by the scent or touch of a Deltan woman.  As far as I'm concerned, it's up to each individual to decide whether they would like to apply prophylactic protections against her pheromone effect.

I've worked with Tess to get low-dose inhibitors into replicated food and drink consumed by any officers and crew who want them.  No pills to take, no injections to apply.  The computer will automatically calculate dosage according to Tess' programmed instructions, and mix the pharmaceutical molecules into the food product in amounts too small to be tasted.  Applicants to this dosage program will be protected without having to take any conscious act beyond eating their normal breakfast, lunch, or dinner.  Tess will check for adverse reactions and effects during regular checkups, but none are expected.  The drug protocols are well understood and have been used for decades.

It seems to me that- after Rayek and Jada- it is Saxon, Beja, and Tess who have borne the brunt of recent changes.

Tess is now acting as my Executive Officer, pending an official confirmation from the Admiralty.  It is a difficult position to hold already, considering that she is also my Chief Medical Officer.  But the role is made all the more emotionally fraught because she is taking the position that her husband recently held.  Now she is elevated in status, and he sits in disgrace.  I can only imagine the toll this has taken on them both.

Saxon carries a lot of weight on his wiry shoulders.  He is now returning to a role which his advanced age had previously forced him to leave behind.  I worry for his health.  He will be doing double-duty as the Security Chief again, in addition to his already broad duties as the station's Strategic Operations Officer.  Strat Ops essentially combines Intelligence, Tactical, and Sector Operations.  With Security additionally mixed in, he's got a lot on his plate.  He also has the discomfort of managing both Rayek and Jada within the Security department.  It is an awkward situation, to say the least.

Beja is of course taking up the new Diplomatic Corps Department in addition to maintaining her Counseling responsibilities.  Speaking of which, I have an appointment to meet with her in just a few minutes.  She has really come through for us over the last couple of months.  The time has come to apply some new shine to her collar.

I feel that Katra Station now sits in a precarious moment between moments.

I hope we at least get a chance to breathe before the next crisis hits.

End Log.

[Jada]

[Internal Docking Bays, Deck 6] January, after S2M3

'There you are, cuz. Finally caught you!' Jada crowed as she walked into the disused internal docking bay, an enclosed shuttle garage with no shuttle. She frowned as she caught sight of s'Metra's secret project, finally tracked down after all her sneaky shifting about, falsified logs, and lies, and asked with sinking dread 'What are you working on...?'

With a smile, s'Metra told her.

Jada backed away, shaking her head and hands, wanting nothing to do with it. 'Oh, no, no. You're mad. We can't. They'll never accept it. They won't understand. They'll kick us out of Starfleet for this.'

'You don't have to be a part of this, cousin.' s'Metra conceded reasonably. 'Sure, your skills and experience would be useful, but Zhelash and I can manage ourselves okay.'

'Fine! I just don't want my name dragged into it! It's got enough muck on it around here.' Jada was about to leave, but had another look at the Thing. She should ignore it, she should look away. But... 'Is that the design you're going with? It'll be way too heavy! You need a good Thiratin bamboo.'

'I don't have Thiratin bamboo. I have aluminium and Meridian rattan. And I have anti-grav pods!'

'Yeah, but like that, it's still a lot of mass to be swinging around all that time.'

'Is it?' s'Metra queried loudly in the tone of one who knew full well what she was doing wrong, and why.

Jada walked back in, muttering 'Thousand Gods. Alright, like this...'

[Around Katra Station]

Over the following weeks and months, the project proceeded in furtive secrecy, with Jada, Zhelash, s'Metra, and Ngachi working to procure parts and supplies and assemble their Thing with as much mystery and and as little explanation as they could get away with it. It was increasingly hard to do it covertly on a connected, well-monitored, densely populated, military space station, but they managed it. Some got the sense they were working on something, but what that something was, they kept very much to themselves. So rumours swirled. One held the Orions were plotting to sabotage the station and betray it to pirates; Jada herself had invented that one. Then they kept quiet, so people forgot, moved on, and lowered their guards... Then stuff happened, the station threatened, Jada demoted. Well, no time like the very last moment.

[NCO Quarters, Deck 7] Early morning, Today's the Day!

Zhelash opened the door, bleary-eyed, a squalling green baby on her hip. And saw Jada and s'Metra grinning at her. 'Oh, no, no. Not today. I have a shift, drills, Balon's bawling, and I still haven't found a babysitter!'

'Good news then!'

'What?'

'You don't have to worry about the shift.' Jada and s'Metra barged in to help Zhelash settle the baby and get ready for the big show.

Today, CPO Zhelash would not be turning up for duty. Nor would the newly demoted Crewman Jada. And it was doubtful if Ensign s'Metra had ever had any official duties as part of her open-ended, vaguely defined "study tour". Certainly, she was in Science, it was just that no one could quite say what she actually did around here, only that she was always busy with something else. At least one of those somethings was about to be revealed.

[Saucer 1]

Standing at the porthole, the four Orions looked to the dawn, in an ancient act of worship still surviving millennia after they'd forgotten their sun god and had known only the suns themselves. From hunter-gatherers to slaves to free folk, getting up with sunrise had traditionally kept them ahead of the competition. 'Now that is a thousand-dejebbit dawn.' Jada declared, and the others nodded in agreement, not even trying to haggle the price.

'That your old ship, boy?' Ngachi nodded to the Galaxy class. 'She is a beauty.'

Jada nodded with a fond smile, a tear almost upon her cheek. 'She is. They finally did right by her.' It was the USS Tempest, the third nacelle gone and the Galaxy-X refit undone, cleaned up after her theft by pirates, repaired and recommissioned, and doing good work in the Gamma. And just in time, too. Jada might not be serving aboard her again, but she would be flying home on her.

It was a beautiful scene, all those ships whizzing through space around Meridian and Katra. More Starfleet, more Federation, the Klingons, and even the Tholians. Finally, perhaps, the Federation would take Katra Station seriously as an outpost, and better defend and support this presence in the Gamma Quadrant if they insisted on having one. Because if they were going to make a stand in Hell, they better expect demons to claw at the gates, and be prepared to fight them. Maybe, too, they would finally go out and explore those strange new worlds, and seek out new life and new civilizations, rather than sit and wait for the worst of to come to them. At the very last, Jada finally had hope they would shine a light into the Outer Dark. But it would be without her. All it had cost was her rank, her career, and her sanity. She'd insulted and punched another villain who needed insulting and punching, and paid the price. She could do no more. Her collar was lightened, but so was the burden on her back. She had no regrets (well, one � she should've headbutted Admiral Rogr). She was leaving with her head high.

But first... Unfinished business.

'Let's raise Hell.'

[Customs, Saucer 1]

For Security Crewman Vykye Tarinat, it was promising to be a fairly hectic morning shift at Customs, what with the expected Klingon, Vulcan, and Tholian crewmembers on shore leave; the Etrosian refugees coming for various reasons; and the official representatives of all of them, on top of the usual influx of visitors, travellers, and traders. So, she would enjoy this peace and quiet while it lasted...

She felt it first: a vibration in the deck plating, rising up through her console, her feet, and her Bolian hide. And she heard a hum in the air, low and faintly buzzing. It was all above and beyond the normal background noise of a space station that you soon tuned out. Then she made out more texture: a rhythmic beat, a creeping tune, drums, a fluting tone, and such a deep, deep bass... Was that music?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6CqSgOJsP8

It emanated from the docking port, where no ship should be. She got up to investigate...

And dove out of the way just as the Monster barged through, stomping and roaring and buzzing. Running back and ducking behind her console, Vykye drew her phaser and peered over the customs bench, trying to assess the situation, before giving up and just watching in shock and amazement. The scanning portal was bleeping crazily even as the Monster stuffed itself through, barely fitting before it burst out the other side.

She got a clear look at last, but could still barely describe it: a shapeless mass, long and huge, with a greenish-brown hide striped with slickly glistening but brightly coloured stripes. Around the sides, a ripping curtain hung to the floor. The front end held four writhing tentacles: two smaller, questing mouth-parts below, two longer roaming eye-stalks above. It crawled through Customs, body undulating, as the front moved, then the middle, then the tail.

Finding itself unable to properly fit through the aisles that channelled visitors through Customs, roaring furiously, the Monster kicked aside and knocked over the bollards. But it briefly became entangled in the ropes that linked them. How? Vykye spied six sets of feminine green legs behind the curtain that made the Monster crawl. One with a snake tattoo entwined around it shook the ropes off, before the marauding Monster moved on.

With shaking hands, Vykye touched her combadge. 'Saucer 1 Customs to Security control... We're being... invaded?' she reported, voice more uncertain than alarmed. They'd never believe her.

'By a gigantic slug.'

(OOC Post restored due to server outage - ShranLahr ch'Verret November 2021)

[Jael Sherem]

[Ensign Gid Sherem | Vulcan Starship Sivok | Katra Station Proximity | Meridian | Trialus Sector]

It had been a fortnight since Gid and Jael arrived at Katra Station. Aside from Gid's slight infatuation with the Deltan diplomat Zex, Jael's wariness of members of the Dominion who knew any Cardassians, and having to have gotten to know the refugees living on the station, they were bored crapless. Everything was working fine, and yet, here they were, waaaaay out in the frontier.

Although the refugees did fascinate them, in a way; they knew similar refugees. In fact, they were refugees themselves, since they joined their mother when she defected to the Federation after Cardassia joined the Dominion.

Then a variety of ships arrived, including a dozen antique Vulcan ships, Suurok-classes, to be precise. The object was to refit the antiques into transports for the refugees. Gid understood that Suurok-classes were also combat vessels, so in essence, they'll at least have teeth, regardless of the Galaxy-class starship assigned to escort them. Upon hearing the prospect of having to take part in refitting the antiques, Gid volunteered.

He had been leading engineering teams since then, getting to work on the transports. He and another engineer, a half-Caitian named Rhade, split the ships with each other; Rhade had one half, Gid had another. Gid didn't mind the prospect of working on antiques; he had often worked on repairs on his (Cardassian) mother's Hideki ever since he was a kid, and he kept helping out with that on his downtime in Earth.

He had heard something about Klingon and Tholian ambassadors setting up an embassy. Gid wondered if his mother would be a fitting ambassador if a Cardassian embassy ever opened up here.

So far, he had finished with two ships and was now working on a third, the Sivok.

The object of the refit was to quadruple passenger capacity, Gid was informed. That suited him; a thorough refit, especially to amp up their weapons in the event of defending themselves, would've taken a long time for just his crew to handle. Right now, however, the aim was passenger capacity. That meant ripping out walls to increase space.

Among other things.

(OOC Post restored due to server outage - ShranLahr ch'Verret Nov 20th 2021)

[John Saxon]

[Katra Station - Deck 2 - John 'Century' Saxon's quarters]

Staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, his beard wet from the splash of cold water to wake himself up from little sleep, Saxon believed he hadn't worked so hard since the Dominion War over 20 years ago. With the 'reorganisation' of staff some weeks prior, the old warhorse was now juggling four roles on Katra. His new, high-security, office was littered with screens and PADDs containing  various updates on sector operational matters, Intelligence reports gleaned from across the Gamma Quadrant, internal security efficiency reviews, and Tactical system upgrades - all needing his review, advice, approval or personal intervention. That was even before dealing with the introduction of two new Embassies. While the Klingons were somewhat easier to integrate, the Tholian contingent was a challenge not just from an engineering perspective.

Deep down, he knew he should be enjoying the non-stop activity. John was not a man content to sit idly on his hands; he had to keep moving, keep working - the alternative was to just give in and throw his combage on Solluk's desk and retire. In all honesty, he had almost done that very thing in the aftermath of the Atrosian debacle, for reasons now a dim memory. But..the cost of his newly revitalised work-life came at too high a price.

Rayek tr'Lhoell, the once First Officer and Chief of Security, had been broken from Commander to Ensign for his presumptive action upon the Atrosian vessel. Despite the valiant efforts of Dr Tess t'Lhoell -  Rayek's wife and Katra's Chief Medical Officer - to offer the Board of Inquiry some hint of a defence of not being in the control of one's actions, they had decided that the justification was not sufficient to shield him from a severe disciplinary sentence. The only silver shimmer in the dark cloud was the probationary proviso.

So now Rayek was an Ensign in Security under Saxon's re-established command. It was an uncomfortable turn of affairs, but John made sure that the rest of the Security Department did not see any favouritism towards the ex-Chief/Commander. And so Rayek's current duty assignment was part of a small team overseeing cargo transfers to and from the arriving transport ships. Anywhere that did not offer an opportunity to access station or ship weapons.

The same was true for Jada Nozima. Once the Master-at-Arms, with the rank of Senior Chief Petty Officer-now-Crewman, her own inexplicable conduct was less defensible, since it followed an already significant litany of past transgressions, any of which would have - if not for the personal intervention of Captain Solluk and, lesser known, Saxon himself - been dishonorably discharged from StarFleet; perhaps even a penal sentence - StarFleet took a dim view of attempted genocide, after all. Once again, though, the sentencing at her courtmartial was tempered by Tess's smallest seed of doubt. Of this, John was most disappointed. He had once looked upon Jada as his likely successor; not, perhaps, his protege, but someone whose service record closely resembled his own at her stage of career. Despite their clash of personalities - to put it mildly - he had always respected her. But in turn he couldn't respect her actions. Understand them, however, he could. She was unwell. Damaged. Scarred. He truly hoped she was not beyond healing. But out here in the' Outer Dark', as she called it, she might be suffering a death of a thousand cuts.

Crewman Jada had been tasked with routine Promenade patrols.

The hardest thing, however, was the unfair charge laid at Captain Solluk's feet. That his command style had encouraged this chaotic, devil-may-care mindset from his staff. That his willingness to utilise the entire depth and breadth of skills  - to think outside the box - stripped the necessary discipline from those under his command, enabling them (in more than one meaning) to time-and-again ignore a century of Starfleet rules and regulations. To win at the obviously cheap expense of optional Federation values.

Sighing, John pushed himself away from the mirror and left his quarters to his office, his leathery brow creased in thought, burying these matters in his mind. An intelligence report had kept him awake; something about a pre-warp civilisation suddenly advancing their medical technology almost overnight - details were scarce, relayed from a third-hand source, but something about it piqued his interest. He'd turn to it once he'd checked in with Lt Rhade on the tractor beam upgrades. Lt Goodspeed, for her part, had done a remarkable job on bringing the Healy back to a reliable condition, and while he hoped the New Orleans-class wouldn't be needed in a combat situation, it was comforting to know the only dangers woudl be without not within.

As he neared the corridor that  would take him to his office, a call chirped on his combadge. SCPO Veirla Solen, now returned as Master-at-Arms, and now Acting Deputy Chief of Security (a role she very much coveted) came over the channel in her usual curt manner.

" Security Control to Lieutenant Saxon. "

He tapped the badge in response. "=/\= Saxon here. Go ahead, Senior. "

"=/\= Sir. We've received reports of a disturbance at Saucer One. "

"=/\= Oh? " He barely missed a stride, but was surprised she was contacting him about something so minor. If there was one thing he liked about her, it was that she got on with things without needing to be carried.

"=/\= Reports of a giant slug. "

He frowned, not sure of the urgency. His office door was in sight. A Cardassian red leaf team had his name on it. "=/\= I'm sure Customs can manage, Senior. It's not the first time someone has tried to bring in something...unusual. "

"=/\= That's just it " she continued, sounding like she was leading up to something. "=/\= They report that it crashed into a cordon, got up and continued further in to the Station. "

"=/\= Then by all means intercept, Senior. Stun it if you have to. " Not for the first time, John wondered if the station should have some kind of animal control unit aboard.

"=/\= I think you might want to review the footage. "

This time he stopped in his tracks, hand hovering just over the access control. "=/\= Why? "

"=/\= Because it seems to have green legs. " The smile in her voice was thick.

"=/\= ...green...legs... " He repeated, eyes closing.

"=/\= Yes. Humanoid...green legs... "

An expletive forced itself from his lips. A horrible thought knotted in his stomach. "=/\= Keep me updated on it's location. I'm on my way. "

[Tess tLhoell]

Lt. Cmdr. Tess t'Lhoell (5 months pregnant)

The last 10 weeks had been the hardest Tess had ever had.

The disaster had been looming, taking shape and then erupt in an earthquake, its tremors subsided only very slowly.

The initial anger Tess had felt at learning what had happened was followed by several long conversations with Rayek. She had visited him in the brig several times each day. The weeks seemed to drag on for an eternity. There was frustration, anger, despair. But there was also concern for her husband. She had expected him - and Jada - to be dishonourably discharged from Starfleet. But that couldn't happen. At the inquirey Tess had presented a possible influence by the Numati as a possibility. She didn't think that the Admiral had really believed her. But the seeds of doubt had been sown. Whether in the end that was what kept the him from discharging Rayek and Jada or whether it was something else didn't matter in the end.

The weeks that followed the Court Martial had been the most difficult. Tess had been made Acting First Officer. It was something to strive for, to be glad about and proud of. But Tess was neither of that. The context and background that had led to her getting the position in the first place was bitter. Very bitter.
Rayek had assured her that there were no hard feelings on his part about her now holding the position he have had only recently. She believed him. But still she had not gotten used to her new position entirely. It was a lot of input, a lot new stuff to work through, to make herself familiar with.

Her pregnancy didn't make things any easier. Being pregnant alone was an emotional thing to deal with, made you feel less tolerable to stress. At least Tess felt that. All the new things that came on top of that now made it a little emotional rollercoaster ride for her on some days. Rayek had really been a big support to her during that time, even more so than he had been anyway. It was a bumpy road for them right now. But Tess was convinced that they would get through it.

On top of all the personal rough times came that Katra truly had turned into a bustling place. Apart from the transport of the Etrosians that she oversaw, there had been two new embassies implemented on the station. There had been a lot of meetings and calls with the ambassadors and their assistants so Tess could make sure they found the best conditions when they set up their embassies here.

Slowly, she grew into her new position.

[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell quarters]

For Tess it felt like this was the first day since the Atrosian incident, that she had a 'quiet' day. Everything was pretty much set up and running smoothly, she didn't have any meetings except the obligatory ones. It did her good to have somewhat of a quiet relaxed morning.

She had woken early, taken a long shower and finished breakfast with Rayek. The recently installed kitchen was brilliant. Unfortunately, now that her schedule had been packed she didn't have had time to really cook in it. Nearby they had put a table made of Meridian wood and four matching chairs, beautifully crafted. She absolutely loved it. Going to the station's arboretum to get a pretty green plant for the kitchen area was still on her list.

She was dressed in a casual t-shirt and some short pants, sitting at the table and finishing her cup of tea. Smiling at Rayek, she put her cup down. "It's Monday, time for our baby pic!", she grinned happily. She knew Rayek was enjoying this just as much as she did.

She got up from the table. Right now she felt energetic and good. Though she knew over the day she'd deal with backache and heartburn. At the end of the shift her legs had started feel swollen. If Rayek wouldn't be there for her to massage them she didn't know what she would do.

Stopping in front of the bulkhead, Tess pushed the hem of the t-shirt up to show her baby belly.

"Ready?", she grinned at Rayek, waiting for him to take the foto.

(OOC Post restored due to server outage - ShranLahr ch'Verret November 2021)

[Catherine Goodspeed]

Katra Auxiliary Drydock) orbiting within 50 kilometers of Katra

Space:  cold, deadly, silent.

However the Katra Drydock was anything but.  Moored around 50 km away from the main station it was filled with staff going about their daily business and the coldness of the vacuum of space was kindly kept at bay by the floating orbital work station.

To Catherine Goodspeed they always reminded her of some mechanical space bug.  As if it would suddenly spring to life and try and scuttle off under a rock somewhere to hide if you got too close.

Most are never named, just referred to by those who didn't work on them by their allocated serial working number but to the crew who worked there, and now to Cat it had a name.... "The Meat Locker".

"The Meat Locker".  It was aptly named really.  Dead or damaged ships would arrive and be completely gutted of their internal workings, cut up and new fixtures fitted or patched up to return again to the outside world.

Cat was standing silently looking at the fleet of old but serviceable Vulcan ships that were waiting like sleeping giants for them to start the refits to turn them into floating asylums.

She was in awe.  Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would get to not only step onboard these beautiful works of floating space art but she would be able to touch them, pull out what was not needed and rescue and reuse what they could.  Waste not, want not as the old saying went.

She drank in the view  like a welcome glass of cool filtered water after weeks in a desert.

It had been a.. Difficult few weeks for the entire Katra Station crew to say the least.  Luckily Cat had been able to throw herself into the Healy refit; losing her thoughts in her work whilst the rest of the world revolved and expanded and shrank back as the outcomes and fallouts of Rayek's and Jada's disciplinary hearings.

Like everything in life the universe liked to throw curveballs and heavy objects at everyone and everything.  Normally Cat tried to keep work and real life separate as best she could but she worried.  Worried how Jada was taking this knockback... Worried about the aging yet stoic Saxon was coping at his age.

Worried about how Rayek was coping.  He had done what was he thought was right and his actions had, in hindsight, saved them all.  Worried about Tess... The extra stress she must be under with the extra load, the worry about her husband and the little one growing within her.

On hearing the grand news Cat had dug out her grandmothers knitting needles, carved from old oriental bamboo and ordered some of the finest organic Earth Alpaca blend wool she could find.  Cat may not be very good with people ot even children sometimes but at least she could fix ships and knit. Not much she would admit but better than nothing. At least she would be able to fashion something beautiful for when Tess and Rayek's little one arrived on the scene.

At least there was more work to keep her mind and body occupied now.  All they were waiting on was Hrafn to give a steer on what she wanted to keep.  Cat was hoping she would bring a couple of her little ones along for a view of the vessels, they seemed like lovely little things and children always seemed to put a smile on peoples faces.  Something that would be needed going forward.

A loud cough broke her mind wanderings

"Cat.. Err Lt!.. Err.. Cat... Got those things you wanted"

Cat smiled at the ragged old voice behind her and turned to where the voice was.

"Gramps"; as he was known had been working the dry dock for as long as anyone could remember.  No one really knew his age or where he came from he just popped up one day, settled in and was well liked and loved by all.

"Oh excellent!"  Cat took the package from his hands and opened the box.  Within were  numerous stick on labels with the words "KEEP" in large bold green letters.  Cat looked up into the old face of Gramps and smiled  "Old fashioned way of doing things I know but if we stick labels on what we want to save then no one is going to throw it on the compost heap so to speak"

"ahhhh.. Nothing wrong with old fashioned my dear... Nothing wrong with that at all.... In fact.. Old fashioned ways can sometimes outsmart the modern ways of thinking, wouldn't you agree?  Hmm?"

Cat nodded and then remembered something.  She reached into her inner pockets of her work overalls, checked no one was around and pulled out several medium sized sealed plastic packets and placed them in his overall pockets.

"Oh Cat!  My Dear girl!  You got some??!"  Gramps face lit up with pure joy.

"Oh dear Sir I did indeed... Have more coming but with all that's been going on at the station they have been slightly.. Delayed.... Tricky getting these in you know." Cat gave a wink and tapped the side of her nose. "On some planets they are banned completely now"

Gramps grinned, reached into a pocket and opened a pack as quietly as he could.  He leaned in, opened his pocket wide and looked at Cat like a naughty school boy as her eyes caught the prizes within.

"Would you like a jelly baby?"

[Rayek trLhoell]

Ensign Rayek tr'Lhoell
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell Quarters]

The past 6 weeks though challenging for Rayek - learning to accustom himself to his new, lesser role, in the overall running of the station - were a vast improvement compared to the four weeks prior that he'd been held in the brig awaiting the decision of Starfleet Command in regards to his court-martial.  He had fully expected the worst and it had eaten away at the Romulan that in 'saving his wife' he would be leaving her defenseless for years afterwards - should he be remanded into the Federation penal system.  He would not be there to see his child born.  This weighed on him constantly while he had waited for their verdict.

He accepted Tess' anger, knowing that he'd earned every bit of it, and apologized profusely, almost begging for her forgiveness.  Once more he hadn't fully taken into consideration the full impact of his actions.   He acted impulsively.  This was a re-occurring problem - one that he had no clear way of fixing.  Miss Judy had forewarned about this, but hadn't given him an clear direction on how to change - just pointed out that he had to.

When Tess had stated this couldn't happen again, Rayek was so fearful that he'd finally done the unthinkable, that his actions had driven her away.  But Tess returned day after day, so that he would not miss out on the small changes and so that he could be kept informed of what was happening on the station and with her pregnancy.  She even snuck Thrafv in once or twice. It was only these visits that kept him from complete despair.

So when the decision came down that he would be able to retain his commission and remain on Katra, the relief was almost euphoric.  He thanked the Admirals who had decided his fate for their tempered justice and assured them that he would strive to be an exemplary junior officer thereafter.  He made that a promise to Tess later that night after  making love to her.

That Tess had been named Acting Executive Officer wasn't surprising given her role as Second Officer at the time.  He was so very proud of her accomplishment, despite his own disgrace, and tried to assure her of this fact repeatedly.   Knowing the stresses that came with the job, Rayek did everything he could to assist from home.   He cooked their morning and evening meals whenever his assigned shifts made it possible knowing that Tess appreciated the effort he put into it.  He put on relaxing music and incense after her shift and massaged her legs.   When, on the rare occasion she did mention her work at home and sought his advice, he was careful to merely support her own ideas.  Her way of being an XO would be different than his own - undoubtedly better - since her caring nature would keep her from making the mistakes he had.

He diligently attended his mandated counseling sessions and strove to be open and receptive with Beja - moreso than ever before.  Tess was relying on him to be able to there for their family.  He couldn't let her down again.  He even joined in Jada's bookclub and read aloud to their unborn babe.  The improvements Rayek made were small but at least he wasn't sliding backwards.  If only he could maintain this.

But it wasn't just Tess that Rayek needed to make amends to, it was Solluk as well.  But whereas Tess visited daily, sometimes multiple times a day during his incarceration, Solluk kept absent.  Rayek knew after the first few days, that he'd irreparably broken the Vulcan's trust.  And it was this knowledge that had Rayek certain at the time, while being held in the brig, that he was going to be discharged because there was no way he could foresee the Captain fighting to keep someone that he couldn't trust.

Rayek wanted to hope that his continued assignment on Katra was a sign that there might be a chance to make amends but the paranoid cynic in Rayek knew that it was more likely that it was just Tess' XO role and her pregnancy that had the Captain not insisting on the Romulan being assigned elsewhere.  The Captain was merely looking after his 'Number One'.  Still Tess encouraged him to try to bridge that gap, and for her sake he would try rather than simply accepting the loss.  It was a scheduled topic of discussion for his next session with Beja... how to make proper amends.  He hoped the Klingon could help.

Lt. Cmdr. Tess t'Lhoell (5 months pregnant)
[Katra Station – Deck 2 – s'Lhoell quarters]

For Tess it felt like this was the first day since the Atrosian incident, that she had a 'quiet' day. Everything was pretty much set up and running smoothly, she didn't have any meetings except the obligatory ones. It did her good to have somewhat of a quiet relaxed morning.

She had woken early, taken a long shower and finished breakfast with Rayek. The recently installed kitchen was brillant. Unfortunately, now that her schedule had been packed she didn't have had time to really cook in it. Nearby they had put a table made of Meridian wood and four matching chairs, beautifully crafted. She absolutely loved it. Going to the station's arboretum to get a pretty green plant for the kitchen area was still on her list.

She was dressed in a casual t-shirt and some short pants, sitting at the table and finishing her cup of tea. Smiling at Rayek, she put her cup down. ,,It's Monday, time for our baby pic!", she grinned happily. She knew Rayek was enjoying this just as much as she did.

She got up from the table. Right now she felt energetic and good. Though she knew over the day she'd deal with backache and heartburn. At the end of the shift her legs had started feel swollen. If Rayek wouldn't be there for her to massage them she didn't know what she would do.

Stopping in front of the bulkhead, Tess pushed the hem of the t-shirt up to show her baby belly.

"Ready?", she grinned at Rayek, waiting for him to take the foto.

Rayek had woken early, ahead of Tess, to the sound of Thrafv scratching at his kennel.   Rayek got up and released the Cardassian ferret, knowing all to well the feeling of being caged.  He poured out a small bowl of the ferret's dietary kibble out in the main room, giving the stark white rodent an affectionate scritch as it ate.  Rayek had missed moments like this while being held in the brig.  It helped him appreciate them more now.

Slipping back into the bedroom, Rayek brushed a kiss on his sleeping wife's forehead to gently wake her and then showered before wrapping a towel about his waist and setting to making breakfast for them.  He'd made sugar-free waffles today - and was reminded of his very first social get together with Toji.  He hadn't seen the former Dord slave since his before his incarceration.  Rayek wondered how xe was.  He mused over the possibility of arranging another get together.  Perhaps it wouldn't be as awkward dealing with the Dord as it had been re-learning to associate with the rest of Katra's staff.

With breakfast done, Rayek had called Tess out of the shower to eat.  With a relaxed schedule this morning, Tess emerged in civilian wear that brought a smile to his face.   By the Elements, she was beautiful no matter what she wore.   He watched subtly as they ate, listening to her as she remarked on wanting to stop by the Arboretum sometime to pick up a 'houseplant' for the table.  Rayek smiled and agreed - offering to go with her after their shifts, if she still wanted to this evening.  He made sure to leave it open to change knowing that she was more prone to being tired in the evenings.

When she stood up from the table, Rayek began gathering up the dishes to be recycled.  He thought she was headed to go get changed but she stopped in front of the blank bulkhead and lifted the hem of her shirt to display her 'baby bump'.  In that instant he recalled what day it was.  How could he have forgotten?!

He quickly dumped the dishes and hurried to grab up his PADD.  "Oh, just a moment, e'lev.  Let me get my PADD." he answered and was soon positioned in a half-kneel a meter and half away to take the pregnancy progression picture.  With a silent tap, the photo was added to his growing album of such, they were his screensaver on his PADD.  A reminder to him, during difficult times when he felt the frustration of his situation beginning build, that what was truly important to him still remained.

Standing, he walked over to show his wife the picture.  "As always, you look amazing. Dare I say even more beautiful than ever?" he murmured and leaned forward to kiss her.  He wished they could linger in that kiss for a while but he had to be on shift in 10 minutes and still had to get dressed.

"My break is at 13:00 today." he commented after stepping away.  He headed into the bedroom room and began to change into his uniform.  "Shall I message you to see if you are available before hand or just trust that you will eat lunch sometime today?" He knew that as XO things came up unexpectedly that could interfere with regular mealtimes.  They'd been fortunate this morning.

Dressed in his once more gold collared uniform, Rayek bid "Jolan tru" to his wife and set off to head to Saucer 1 Customs for the day.

[Katra Station - Saucer 1 - Cargo Customs]

Over the past six weeks, Rayek had gained a greater appreciation for the work done by the Customs personnel.   While as head of security, he'd known what the job entailed and had overseen its' work as part of his duties, this knowledge was far different than having actually done it himself.  When he had been selected for Katra's XO position a year and half ago, Rayek had been the Chief Petty Officer for Security and Tactical on Challenger. Yet nowhere in his background had he ever had any Customs experience other than being the unfortunate subject of 'randomly picked' individuals for closer inspection.

Saxon, as the chief of both Security and Tactical now, had assigned Rayek to the most out of the way location possible to work and with the least amount of social interaction.  That of course was intentional.  No one wanted to be reminded of what he'd done and that was best accomplished by keeping him out of sight.  Out of sight, out of mind.

As the first of the docked transport's cargo came through, Rayek set to work scanning for illegal and potentially dangerous materials.  While he technically worked as part of a 3-man team of cargo customs personnel, they each worked a separate section of the cargo floor so he didn't have very much interaction with them.  He didn't even have Ginger as company today.  Recognizing that this was going to be one of those harder days, he paused his conveyor belt and set his PADD up on an nearby desk.  With the screen set to display images at random from his Family album - images of Tess, Thrafv, and himself with Tess at their wedding, during their Romulan honeymoon on the holodeck - Rayek returned to work stealing glances as needed to keep himself focused and on task.

[Customs, Saucer 1]

For Security Crewman Vykye Tarinat, it was promising to be a fairly hectic morning shift at Customs, what with the expected Klingon, Vulcan, and Tholian crewmembers on shore leave; the Etrosian refugees coming for various reasons; and the official representatives of all of them, on top of the usual influx of visitors, travellers, and traders. So, she would enjoy this peace and quiet while it lasted...

She felt it first: a vibration in the deck plating, rising up through her console, her feet, and her Bolian hide. And she heard a hum in the air, low and faintly buzzing. It was all above and beyond the normal background noise of a space station that you soon tuned out. Then she made out more texture: a rhythmic beat, a creeping tune, drums, a fluting tone, and such a deep, deep bass... Was that music?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6CqSgOJsP8

It emanated from the docking port, where no ship should be. She got up to investigate...

And dove out of the way just as the Monster barged through, stomping and roaring and buzzing. Running back and ducking behind her console, Vykye drew her phaser and peered over the customs bench, trying to assess the situation, before giving up and just watching in shock and amazement. The scanning portal was bleeping crazily even as the Monster stuffed itself through, barely fitting before it burst out the other side.

She got a clear look at last, but could still barely describe it: a shapeless mass, long and huge, with a greenish-brown hide striped with slickly glistening but brightly coloured stripes. Around the sides, a ripping curtain hung to the floor. The front end held four writhing tentacles: two smaller, questing mouth-parts below, two longer roaming eye-stalks above. It crawled through Customs, body undulating, as the front moved, then the middle, then the tail.

Finding itself unable to properly fit through the aisles that channelled visitors through Customs, roaring furiously, the Monster kicked aside and knocked over the bollards. But it briefly became entangled in the ropes that linked them. How? Vykye spied six sets of feminine green legs behind the curtain that made the Monster crawl. One with a snake tattoo entwined around it shook the ropes off, before the marauding Monster moved on.

With shaking hands, Vykye touched her combadge. 'Saucer 1 Customs to Security control... We're being... invaded?' she reported, voice more uncertain than alarmed. They'd never believe her.

'By a gigantic slug.'

As a security officer in the vicinity of Saucer 1 Customs, Rayek was on the tagged call to Security control.  There was a moment in which he started to reach for his comm badge to acknowledge the call but the gold on his cuff reminded him that wasn't his role anymore.

SCPO Solen's voice came over the comm in answer and Rayek turned back to his work knowing that the situation would be dealt with without need of him.  He left the line open though.  The Romulan still liked to be in the know of things... even if his access to such was severely limited now.

[Hrafn Falleg]

Katra Auxiliary Drydock) orbiting within 50 kilometers of Katra

Space:  cold, deadly, silent.

However the Katra Drydock was anything but.  Moored around 50 km away from the main station it was filled with staff going about their daily business and the coldness of the vacuum of space was kindly kept at bay by the floating orbital work station.

To Catherine Goodspeed they always reminded her of some mechanical space bug.  As if it would suddenly spring to life and try and scuttle off under a rock somewhere to hide if you got too close.

Most are never named, just referred to by those who didn't work on them by their allocated serial working number but to the crew who worked there, and now to Cat it had a name.... "The Meat Locker".

"The Meat Locker".  It was aptly named really.  Dead or damaged ships would arrive and be completely gutted of their internal workings, cut up and new fixtures fitted or patched up to return again to the outside world.

Cat was standing silently looking at the fleet of old but serviceable Vulcan ships that were waiting like sleeping giants for them to start the refits to turn them into floating asylums.

She was in awe.  Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would get to not only step onboard these beautiful works of floating space art but she would be able to touch them, pull out what was not needed and rescue and reuse what they could.  Waste not, want not as the old saying went.

She drank in the view  like a welcome glass of cool filtered water after weeks in a desert.

It had been a.. Difficult few weeks for the entire Katra Station crew to say the least.  Luckily Cat had been able to throw herself into the Healy refit; losing her thoughts in her work whilst the rest of the world revolved and expanded and shrank back as the outcomes and fallouts of Rayek's and Jada's disciplinary hearings.

Like everything in life the universe liked to throw curveballs and heavy objects at everyone and everything.  Normally Cat tried to keep work and real life separate as best she could but she worried.  Worried how Jada was taking this knockback... Worried about the aging yet stoic Saxon was coping at his age.

Worried about how Rayek was coping.  He had done what was he thought was right and his actions had, in hindsight, saved them all.  Worried about Tess... The extra stress she must be under with the extra load, the worry about her husband and the little one growing within her.

On hearing the grand news Cat had dug out her grandmothers knitting needles, carved from old oriental bamboo and ordered some of the finest organic Earth Alpaca blend wool she could find.  Cat may not be very good with people ot even children sometimes but at least she could fix ships and knit. Not much she would admit but better than nothing. At least she would be able to fashion something beautiful for when Tess and Rayek's little one arrived on the scene.

At least there was more work to keep her mind and body occupied now.  All they were waiting on was Hrafn to give a steer on what she wanted to keep.  Cat was hoping she would bring a couple of her little ones along for a view of the vessels, they seemed like lovely little things and children always seemed to put a smile on peoples faces.  Something that would be needed going forward.

A loud cough broke her mind wanderings

"Cat.. Err Lt!.. Err.. Cat... Got those things you wanted"

Cat smiled at the ragged old voice behind her and turned to where the voice was.

"Gramps"; as he was known had been working the dry dock for as long as anyone could remember.  No one really knew his age or where he came from he just popped up one day, settled in and was well liked and loved by all.

"Oh excellent!"  Cat took the package from his hands and opened the box.  Within were  numerous stick on labels with the words "KEEP" in large bold green letters.  Cat looked up into the old face of Gramps and smiled  "Old fashioned way of doing things I know but if we stick labels on what we want to save then no one is going to throw it on the compost heap so to speak"

"ahhhh.. Nothing wrong with old fashioned my dear... Nothing wrong with that at all.... In fact.. Old fashioned ways can sometimes outsmart the modern ways of thinking, wouldn't you agree?  Hmm?"

Cat nodded and then remembered something.  She reached into her inner pockets of her work overalls, checked no one was around and pulled out several medium sized sealed plastic packets and placed them in his overall pockets.

"Oh Cat!  My Dear girl!  You got some??!"  Gramps face lit up with pure joy.

"Oh dear Sir I did indeed... Have more coming but with all that's been going on at the station they have been slightly.. Delayed.... Tricky getting these in you know." Cat gave a wink and tapped the side of her nose. "On some planets they are banned completely now"

Gramps grinned, reached into a pocket and opened a pack as quietly as he could.  He leaned in, opened his pocket wide and looked at Cat like a naughty school boy as her eyes caught the prizes within.

"Would you like a jelly baby?"

Katra Auxiliary Drydock) orbiting within 50 kilometers of Katra

"I would, if you have a black one... I love the black, red and green ones best!" The CSO came up behind the older gentleman and grinned equally conspiratorially. Almost whispering herself she continued. "I haven't had a Jelly Baby since I was last on Earth... and that's been quite a while.  Aunt Em loved them!"

Hrafn had been sent to investigate the labs on the Vulcan ships and mark anything 'useful' prior to Cat Goodspeed doing some serious upgrading.  She held forward a tray of drinks in 'travel cups'.  "Nice to see you again Lieutenant, who's this fine gentleman? I come bearing gifts, or well your coffee break! Ratkajino in the red, cocoa in the green, English tea in the blue, regular 'instant' coffee a la Starbucks in the purple... there's 2 of each I figured the minions could have a drink too if that's ok with you?  You're in charge of the Engineering lot here.  There's little packs of milk and sugar and sweeteners and biscuits, help yourselves." she emphasised each colour with a nod in the direction of each to point them out.

"And I should explain... despite the appearance..."  she gestured to the spots, "... I'm part human and also studied at Cambridge University... linguistics and languages, 'Aunt Em' was a college librarian that was intrigued by my love of books that matched her own and since she had no children she sort of adopted me, then left me her home, and importantly the contents of her library!  But she loved Jelly Babies, and... Midget Gems?  Not sure if I am remembering the name correctly, also Jelly sweets, harder to chew, about the size of my little finger joint... and Chocolate Oranges... oh I miss them!"

Blinking out of her Earth sweets reverie she smiled.  "Anyhow I'm not here for the sweets, I'm to mark anything in the labs for 'salvaging'.  Good job I speak Vulcanisn't it?!" Hrafn mockingly rolled her eyes as if to say 'If I didn't this might not go so well...'

"...So, if there's anything you're not sure on if you don't read it yourself just shout.  Oh and please, between you both, me and the bulkheads... it's Hrafn here... don't stand on ceremony, we're equal rank Cat, oh what's that?" the Science officer said noticing the box  in Cat's hands.

[Kirok]

[Outside the Chief Diplomatic Office]

The voyage from DS9 had been eventful to say the least.  Zex had stopped a plot to destroy the Katra and had been celebrated as a hero on the Yadyam.   Odelot and his family had even indicated that she could ride their ship for free for the rest of her life, but she had declined the 'gift' nonetheless.

The nightmares, though, had continued.  She had never had to engage anyone in physical combat before.  She was still surprised that she had survived with ordeal without so much as a scar.

Adjusting to life on the station over the last 9 weeks, though, had sufficiently distracted her from her own problems.  She had gotten to know her new crewmates.  She has grown comfortable in her new position.

It was the start of a new day.  She typically started by checking in with Beja to see if there was a new project that needed to be completed.  So she had arrived at Beja door and rang the bell.

[Jada]

[Customs, Saucer 1]

Inside, the Monster was less a costume and more a fully equipped mobile tent, with handles and harnesses, a full sound-system of speakers, and all manner of gadgets and surprises ready for later. And three Orion women, in tank-tops and shorts and sneakers, already warm and perspiring. They'd had their first hurdle, and a very literal one, when they had to jump, climb, hop, and/or trip over the Customs cordons.

Another bollard fell with a clatter, and down at the tail s'Metra stumbled over it and winced. 'Do you think we made the costume too big?' she worried, rolling it out under the curtain.

'The Dragon Wing-Slug can never be too big!' Jada declared defiantly from the head. For all her doubts earlier, she was damn well enjoying herself now! 'It's the obstacles that are too small.' Getting back into rhythm, she resumed the dance the three of them had been learning, practising, and choreographing for weeks. Step left, step right, sway, sway. It was simple, but vital for the undulation of the slug and required all three to move, not in unison but in regular sequence. And Orion dancers rarely stayed choreographed for long.

'Yeah, well, let's just not get stuck anywhere.' Zhelash warned from the belly, then she too took up the dance: step left, step right, sway, sway.

After disentangling the last rope, s'Metra was tugged after them. Step left, step right, sway, sway. 'What's their first reaction?'

'Security response to disturbance.' Jada returned from the head. She was listening to combadge and the Security chatter, under the pounding bass music. 'We're ready for it.'

*

Outside, Vykye just watched, stunned, as the gigantic dancing slug meandered through Customs and out the door, taking the corridors toward the station's central hub. But not before it had tossed something out of a hatch and onto her desk: a passport.

She did not see that everyday.

*

Crewman Curdo hurried up to the newly made Ensign tr'Lhoell; fortunately for the enlisted man, he didn't have to address him any differently than before, but the change still took some getting used to. 'Sir! We've been issued phasers for some security alert.' he said, but the Haliian was frowning even as he passed the new phaser to the Romulan. 'There's something funny about these weapons, sir.'

There was: it was plastic, much lighter, and very definitely toy-like in its grip...

(OOC Post restored due to server outage - ShranLahr ch'Verret November 2021)

[Tess tLhoell]

Lt. Cmdr. Tess t'Lhoell (5 months pregnant)
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell quarters]

Ensign Rayek tr'Lhoell
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell Quarters]
[...]

Rayek had woken early, ahead of Tess, to the sound of Thrafv scratching at his kennel.   Rayek got up and released the Cardassian ferret, knowing all to well the feeling of being caged.  He poured out a small bowl of the ferret's dietary kibble out in the main room, giving the stark white rodent an affectionate scritch as it ate.  Rayek had missed moments like this while being held in the brig.  It helped him appreciate them more now.

Slipping back into the bedroom, Rayek brushed a kiss on his sleeping wife's forehead to gently wake her and then showered before wrapping a towel about his waist and setting to making breakfast for them.  He'd made sugar-free waffles today - and was reminded of his very first social get together with Toji.  He hadn't seen the former Dord slave since his before his incarceration.  Rayek wondered how xe was.  He mused over the possibility of arranging another get together.  Perhaps it wouldn't be as awkward dealing with the Dord as it had been re-learning to associate with the rest of Katra's staff.

With breakfast done, Rayek had called Tess out of the shower to eat.  With a relaxed schedule this morning, Tess emerged in civilian wear that brought a smile to his face.   By the Elements, she was beautiful no matter what she wore.   He watched subtly as they ate, listening to her as she remarked on wanting to stop by the Arboretum sometime to pick up a 'houseplant' for the table.  Rayek smiled and agreed - offering to go with her after their shifts, if she still wanted to this evening.  He made sure to leave it open to change knowing that she was more prone to being tired in the evenings.

When she stood up from the table, Rayek began gathering up the dishes to be recycled.  He thought she was headed to go get changed but she stopped in front of the blank bulkhead and lifted the hem of her shirt to display her 'baby bump'.  In that instant he recalled what day it was.  How could he have forgotten?!

He quickly dumped the dishes and hurried to grab up his PADD.  "Oh, just a moment, e'lev.  Let me get my PADD." he answered and was soon positioned in a half-kneel a meter and half away to take the pregnancy progression picture.  With a silent tap, the photo was added to his growing album of such, they were his screensaver on his PADD.  A reminder to him, during difficult times when he felt the frustration of his situation beginning build, that what was truly important to him still remained.

Standing, he walked over to show his wife the picture.  "As always, you look amazing. Dare I say even more beautiful than ever?" he murmured and leaned forward to kiss her.  He wished they could linger in that kiss for a while but he had to be on shift in 10 minutes and still had to get dressed.

"My break is at 13:00 today." he commented after stepping away.  He headed into the bedroom room and began to change into his uniform.  "Shall I message you to see if you are available before hand or just trust that you will eat lunch sometime today?" He knew that as XO things came up unexpectedly that could interfere with regular mealtimes.  They'd been fortunate this morning.

Dressed in his once more gold collared uniform, Rayek bid "Jolan tru" to his wife and set off to head to Saucer 1 Customs for the day.

Tess waited until Rayek had taken the picture, then she took a step towards him to have a look at it. Wrapping her arm around his hip she leaned into him with a wide and happy smile. His murmured words made that smile become even wider and she looked up at him to meet his lips for a sweet kiss. "You may", she said softly in jest, chuckling.

As he stepped away Tess continued to look at the picture a while longer and sent it from his PADD to hers. She wanted to show it to her dad later. "No, let's meet at 13", she answered while she tapped on his PADD. "If nothing comes up today it should be a rather quiet day." If nothing came up ...

Lowering his PADD as he returned - now dressed in his uniform - she smiled at him. She really was proud of him how much he tried to make things right again. Handing him his PADD she leaned in for a kiss good-bye. "Jolan-tru, praevus" (*handsome), she grinned and watched as he left their quarters.

She chuckled to herself when she thoght of the small private message she had set to pop up in about an hour on his PADD.

Tess cleaned away any crumbs that might have been left on the table from their breakfast before she then changed into her own uniform and left her and Rayek's quarters, PADD in hand.

[Katra Station - Deck 2 - Corridor]

Her mind was on the few appointments she had today. The Wadi had requested to open a gambling hall on the station - something that hadn't surprised Tess given the love of the Wadi for games. Captain Solluk had agreed but stipulated that Chula would not be part of the games offered, which the Wadi had accepted without complaint. Their recources of game ideas probably was inexhaustible which made it easy for them to give up that specific one.

Tess had arranged with them that they submit a list of games they planned to do in the gambling hall with the obligation to do so every time they wanted to introduce a new one. That way she could make sure that those games would not impact the station's operations in any way. As they have witnessed, the Wadi definitely have the technology to do so.
Everything had been arranged and set up for the Wadi gambling hall but when asked about a date when they wanted to open it, the Wadi were strangely incommunicative. Thinking that she had some time on her hands today, she would drop by either the place on the promenade where the gambling hall was located but not opened as yet, or visit Sub-Surchid Jedem to see if there was something amiss.

Then there was still her duty as Chief Medical Officer, which was very dear to her. The recent changes had of course cut her time in sickbay short and she would not deny that she missed her doctor's life very much. She missed dealing with the patients. Apparently the events of the Atrosian incident had meant losses for her as well. But today was a good day to actually spend some time down there when everything at the OCC was taken care of.

With those thoughts on the her mind as she walked down the corridor she suddenly spottet a familiar figure. John Saxon. The man had to take much of the load that had been spread over several more shoulders before. She did worry about him. One time she had sought to speak with him and asked him to listen to his body even more than before. Hell, the man have had a heart-attack. She didn't want that to happen again. She believed - or rather hoped - they had a foundation of trust that he would not feel reluctant to seek help if he needed some.

Right now he was communicating with someone. Tess was only able to catch the last words of the woman speaking to John, something about humanoid green legs, she couldn't make sense of it but it seemed to make John rather unhappy. She heard as he ended the call and apparently was about to head to the location where something worrisome with humanoid legs happened. Tess was curious.

"Good morning, Lieutenant", Tess greeted him with a smile. "Bad news?", she asked and would head to the turbolift with him if he would do so.

[Amarande Xiiv]

[ DECK 5 Quarters; Viewport Overlooking Vulcan Transports), DECK 22, Medbay]

001. DECK 05: Junior Commissioned Officer Quarters

The little water heater she'd gotten from one of the shops worked just fine for a private cup of her favourite Vulcan tea in the small hours of the morning. It might have been a rest day for her but she still woke at the same moment every day, just itching for something to do. If it wasn't that, there were the dreams that reached from either her symbiont or her own memories of strife from her years among the war-torn worlds and people she'd assisted. Her experiences thus far on the station had fed her dreams deeply.

The recent Etrosian/Atrosian debacle made her spots itch with could-have-beens and with what had happened. The second in command demoted, the Master of Arms demoted - rightfully so but not without the shadowed edges of it cast from department to department. Watching her commanding officer deal with it had not been easy, especially with carrying a child, when stress (especially with parents of differing genetics) should have been kept low.

She sipped her tea pensively and knew she was going to check Medbay, just in case. Clad in the flowing Vulcan robes her mother had given her the first time she'd left the warmth of home for the cold of space, she first checked her plants, humming at them as her father had always done, and watered those that needed it. They hung everywhere, each with a little grow-light that brightened and dimmed at the proper time.

They made the whole room come to life with scents that mingled together pleasantly.

Once done, she strode out the door and peeked into Medbay for a hot moment to make sure they didn't need anything but she was there and gone before she'd said much. Now, there was the matter of the Vulcan ships and, perhaps, Adryel might join her. She tapped her badge with a soft smile as she moved into the turbolift.

Adryel? Amarande, here, would you enjoy coming with me to see the progress on the Vulcan fleet? I fancied a bit of a look and perhaps a chat with some of the Captains or crew. Or, if you like, a walk through the gardens if you haven't been recently. 

003. DECK 05: Viewport Overlooking Vulcan Transports/Promenade

Her first sight was of a cluster of Vulcan workers, perhaps two Captains, and someone who was definitely Medical, though not from Katra. One of the Captains broke off as she caught his attention, her greeting formal but obviously delighted. She did make a show of switching off her universal translator.

"Nash-veh vesh' wondering kuv du had wuh moment tor stariben, khart-lan?" Her voice was smooth and her inflexion and pronunciation delicate, just as her diplomat mother's had always been. Some foibles of the words meant they weren't exactly translatable. But she'd asked, if he'd be amenable, to speak with him in her mother's tongue.

"Ish-veh has vesh' ya'shakhuv opi' nash-veh ma had wuh conversation svi' Vuhlkansu.  Theris-masu, sos'eh?" While she was there, an invitation to tea was never a bad idea. Plus, she was cold again and could use something to warm her up. She gestured to a small cafe she knew nearby.

"Nash cafe has wuh buhfik Vuhlkansu theris-masu ik nash-veh've," she murmured, her smile soft and open, "had si' wuh ones nash-veh to'ovau svi' t'nash-veh ha-shal il wuh ones nash-veh tizh-tor imported s' Vuhlkansu." Her eyes sparkled with good humour considering the tea really was very much like home.

---
[OOC: The Vulcan conversation can take place before or after Adryel's. I have no preference! Vulcan translator. ]

(OOC Post restored due to server outage - ShranLahr ch'Verret November 20th 2021)

[Tess tLhoell]

NPC - Adryel Randis of Etros
[Planet Meridian >>> Katra Station - Promenade]

There was the hard but steady sound of a dull thud every time the axe hit the tree's stem. There was a lot to do if, they needed to rebuild their homes here and prepare as much as they could for when more of their people arrived here.

Most of the time during the past 10 weeks Adryel had spent down on Meridian. He had met with the ambassador once or twice and he had been very nice to him. Everybody here was very nice to him, really. The Etrosians had been free to choose a spot on the planet, where they wanted to resettle. Since Adryel had been the only one at first, he had spent much time roaming the jungle of Meridian and getting to know some places. He was glad when the first transport of Etrosians had arrived. He hoped he would see his family soon.

By now Adryel had gotten know the station better. He was able to orientate himself without getting lost every time. After his first days on the station he had received one of the devices the people here communicated with each other. So he would be available for any questions the command staff of the station or the Meridian ambassador might have.

But this time when the communicator bleeped, it was none of the mentioned above. It was Amarande.

Adryel? Amarande, here, would you enjoy coming with me to see the progress on the Vulcan fleet? I fancied a bit of a look and perhaps a chat with some of the Captains or crew. Or, if you like, a walk through the gardens if you haven't been recently. 

Adryel smiled. He had liked the Trill from the very start. It wasn't unusual that she asked him to join her for some activities - he pretty much enjoyed it every time. Putting the axe aside he wiped beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. With his free hand he tapped the communicator.

"Greetings, Amarande. I would love to join you." After he asked where they would meet Adryel called for someone to beam him up to the station. That he had learned by now.

He easily found the way from the transporter room to the promenade. Given the Trill woman's shortness it wasn't that easy to make her out in the crowd roaming the promenade. But Adryel was patient and he knew he could call her if he didn't find her.

But soon the Etrosian spotted her, speaking with a Romulan?, no, Vulcan. He had learned what the difference was.

Adryel approached unhasting, not wanting to interrupt the conversation. "Greetings", he said to Amarande and then stranger, for whom he added a bow to his greeting.

[John Saxon]

[Katra Station - Deck 2 - Corridor]

With those thoughts on the her mind as she walked down the corridor she suddenly spottet a familiar figure. John Saxon. The man had to take much of the load that had been spread over several more shoulders before. She did worry about him. One time she had sought to speak with him and asked him to listen to his body even more than before. Hell, the man have had a heart-attack. She didn't want that to happen again. She believed - or rather hoped - they had a foundation of trust that he would not feel reluctant to seek help if he needed some.

Right now he was communicating with someone. Tess was only able to catch the last words of the woman speaking to John, something about humanoid green legs, she couldn't make sense of it but it seemed to make John rather unhappy. She heard as he ended the call and apparently was about to head to the location where something worrisome with humanoid legs happened. Tess was curious.

"Good morning, Lieutenant", Tess greeted him with a smile. "Bad news?", she asked and would head to the turbolift with him if he would do so.

It had taken the old officer some time to rid himself the guilt he felt over Rayek's actions; for some weeks, it weighed heavily on his mind that Rayek had only done what he did because he felt Tess and her unborn child were at risk from death from the Atrosian vessel. The implication, at least to John in that morose time, was that the First Officer didn't feel confident enough in the Lieutenant's abilities to defend the station effectively, and that the only resort was to sacrifice his career to do so instead.

John was not someone accustomed to airing his inner feelings to a Counselor or other medical professional - Ensign Xiiv, for one, who had managed his health requirements with the almost same delicate respect and decorum that Tess displayed - and while had he good working relationships with all - okay, most - of his colleagues, none of them, he realised, were particularly close friends; Tess came closest to that category, and he was hardly going to broach the self-pitying topic with the very partner of the man that had felt failed by him.

But, as the days continued to tick by into further weeks, the nonagenarian finally accepted that the act taken by the First Officer was just down to the Romulan's continued predilection to take the most extreme, and unilateral, measures to protect his sole reason for being, and that it was not in any way a reflection of Saxon's performance. The meeting with Solluk to entrust him with Chief of Security once more helped reinforce that reality.

Nonetheless, being around Tess continued to be a stark reminder of those final moments on the Healy, and John had tried his best to avoid her for a while - all the more harder as she stepped in as the First Officer; after all, it was he that had first flagged to the Ba'ku CMO that Rayek was in custody and even the aged, weathered steel of his resolve wilted as he wondered if she felt he had, what was that old word...'dobbed'...her husband in.

They hadn't really spoken on the subject, and while his formal meetings with her had been proper and uncomplicated, he really hadn't been confident her usually bright attitude concealed a more accusatory feeling towards him.

Thus, bumping into her while on his way to the turbolift, had made the new heart in his chest clench and his shoulders tense. Even so, he returned her smile with something as close as John could ever make. "Commander" he replied warmly, hoping it didn't sound too strained. "Good morning." He nodded over to the turbolift doors down the remainder of the corridor. "I'm heading that way if you are." With a gallant flourish, he waved her ahead as he continued. "Not our usual bad news", he said drly, "but I've just realised that I've overlooked a certain date in the station's itinerary...and there's what I suspect is a...related...commotion near Saucer 1."

His voice conveyed a somewhat wry and-trying-not-to-be-amused tone. If this was what he thought what was happening, it was going to be a fine balancing act.

Cruk.

[Tess tLhoell]

Lt. Cmdr. Tess t'Lhoell (5 months pregnant)
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - Corridor >>> Turbolift]

[Katra Station - Deck 2 - Corridor]

It had taken the old officer some time to rid himself the guilt he felt over Rayek's actions; for some weeks, it weighed heavily on his mind that Rayek had only done what he did because he felt Tess and her unborn child were at risk from death from the Atrosian vessel. The implication, at least to John in that morose time, was that the First Officer didn't feel confident enough in the Lieutenant's abilities to defend the station effectively, and that the only resort was to sacrifice his career to do so instead.

John was not someone accustomed to airing his inner feelings to a Counselor or other medical professional - Ensign Xiiv, for one, who had managed his health requirements with the almost same delicate respect and decorum that Tess displayed - and while had he good working relationships with all - okay, most - of his colleagues, none of them, he realised, were particularly close friends; Tess came closest to that category, and he was hardly going to broach the self-pitying topic with the very partner of the man that had felt failed by him.

But, as the days continued to tick by into further weeks, the nonagenarian finally accepted that the act taken by the First Officer was just down to the Romulan's continued predilection to take the most extreme, and unilateral, measures to protect his sole reason for being, and that it was not in any way a reflection of Saxon's performance. The meeting with Solluk to entrust him with Chief of Security once more helped reinforce that reality.

Nonetheless, being around Tess continued to be a stark reminder of those final moments on the Healy, and John had tried his best to avoid her for a while - all the more harder as she stepped in as the First Officer; after all, it was he that had first flagged to the Ba'ku CMO that Rayek was in custody and even the aged, weathered steel of his resolve wilted as he wondered if she felt he had, what was that old word...'dobbed'...her husband in.

They hadn't really spoken on the subject, and while his formal meetings with her had been proper and uncomplicated, he really hadn't been confident her usually bright attitude concealed a more accusatory feeling towards him.

Thus, bumping into her while on his way to the turbolift, had made the new heart in his chest clench and his shoulders tense. Even so, he returned her smile with something as close as John could ever make. "Commander" he replied warmly, hoping it didn't sound too strained. "Good morning." He nodded over to the turbolift doors down the remainder of the corridor. "I'm heading that way if you are." With a gallant flourish, he waved her ahead as he continued. "Not our usual bad news", he said drly, "but I've just realised that I've overlooked a certain date in the station's itinerary...and there's what I suspect is a...related...commotion near Saucer 1."

His voice conveyed a somewhat wry and-trying-not-to-be-amused tone. If this was what he thought what was happening, it was going to be a fine balancing act.

Cruk.

Tess considered herself as quite empathic and being able to sense other people's emotions and subtle changes in their behaviour. Between her and John something had changed, but she could not put her finger on why that was. He seemed to avoid her, though that could be a false impression on her part, since the man was busy as hell ever since the Atrosian incident; just like her. She also didn't trust her own feeling that much these days, given the increased work load she had to handle and the stress that came along with it. That was why she hadn't approached him on the topic yet - because she wasn't sure about her own gut feeling. If she was right though, she would need to know what it was that caused the space between them.

She smiled at his gallant invitation to join her on his way and did so, one hand carrying her PADD, the other resting ever so lightly on top of her not longer quite so small baby belly - something she subconsciously did to an increasing degree.

Listening as they went, Tess smiled to herself a bit when he assured her it wasn't 'their usual bad news'. That was good to hear. When he then went on to explain that he had overlooked a date in the station's itinerary, Tess frowned in wonder. A date? Shouldn't she know about something like that? She didn't recall anything like that when she had gone through the station's schedule this morning at breakfast. And what commotion?

Stopping in front of the turbolift she reached her hand out to touch the plate at the panel, the doors opening just a moment later. "A commotion related to a date set for today?", she asked, the cluelessness audible in her voice and visible in her face. Turning her gaze away from John to briefly look up towards the ceiling Tess spoke to the computer. "Saucer 1."
Looking back at him she asked: "I hope you don't me joining you?"

Any excuse for a chance to see Rayek. And check what was going on down there.