Babs
Lore Committee
Posts: 210
|
Post by Babs on Oct 10, 2018 13:47:18 GMT
Stardate .........? Time does not exist here ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It didn’t feel like death. At least, not how she’d always imagined it.
There was no peace.
Instead, there was anger. Overwhelming anger. And despair. She couldn’t block it out, couldn’t shield herself from it. It invaded her every cell and atom, threatening to tear her apart in the same way it had torn apart the ship.
And she felt alone.
Utterly alone.
A stray thought managed to make it through the quagmire of despair and darkness. Perhaps the last thought she would ever have, before her atoms were scattered to the universe.
Maybe it wasn’t the music.
Maybe it was because we stopped playing it...
|
|
|
Post by Einar on Oct 11, 2018 5:52:19 GMT
what is happening??
|
|
Babs
Lore Committee
Posts: 210
|
Post by Babs on Dec 13, 2018 19:03:48 GMT
11812.06 Translation
Sapphire. Empty.. Destroy… gone. Drive… hope.
“Sapphire.. Sapphire... yes. It must be. It’s a person.” She didn’t know how she knew that, but she somehow knew it for certain.
“Empty. All empty… All is empty. Destroy. Destroyed? All is gone?” Tapping of fingers and another sip of coffee. “Sapphire is empty. Sapphire.. “ A huff of frustration. “Ok. So.. Destroy.. Destroyed maybe.. Destroyed us? Drive. Drives.. out hope.”
“No. There’s got to be more to this.” A long pause as she tries to think.
“Sapphire.... something. All has become empty, all is destroyed, gone. Drive.. Driven out hope? Driven away hope? Despair...”
Another sip of coffee, more frustrated tapping. The alien ship sits nearby in space, silent.
If only she could talk to it again…
|
|
Babs
Lore Committee
Posts: 210
|
Post by Babs on May 5, 2019 19:51:34 GMT
|
|
Babs
Lore Committee
Posts: 210
|
Post by Babs on Dec 18, 2019 20:31:12 GMT
11911.21 Taming the Monster (Joint log with Annie as Idris Rahal)
Idris Rahal was not a Starfleet officer. This may seem like a strange distinction to make, but it was an important one to him. He was not a military man, so he wasn’t beholden to Starfleet brass and it was his opinion that this freedom is what made him so good at his job. People trusted him more; opened up more easily. His mother liked to think people trusted him because he had a kind face. It was true his appearance was relaxed with his face rarely shaved, his tousled black hair had a sprinkling of gray throughout, and he was always wearing comfortable civilian clothing that some might even consider unprofessional. But he liked to think the real reason they trusted him was because his patients knew he was on their side, not because he had warm eyes and a gentle smile. Whatever the reason, he had made a name for himself in the field and he was frequently called in to consult for Starfleet when the situation called for a little delicacy.
When he was called in for what, at face value, seemed to be routine psychological evaluations, he was a little confused as to why they wanted him. Then he saw the crew that was going to be evaluated and things fell into place. The Chiron. It was too interesting a prospect to pass up.
He jotted some thoughts down about the session he had just concluded with Ensign Siwara in his notepad. Most people used data padds, but there was something about the tactile feel of putting a pen to paper that he truly enjoyed. He felt like it helped focus his thoughts. He twirled the ink pen between his fingers and then looked at the chronometer. His next appointment should be arriving shortly, the Operations officer he believed. What was her name again… his eyes travelled to his appointment schedule. Ah yes, Terell, Rebecca. Picking up the data padd on the small table by his chair he pulled up her personnel file and began reviewing it while he waited for her arrival.
The Green drink is what had put Becca over the edge last night. She remembered the birthday toast. She remembered the cake, the present opening, and more toasts from the rest of the crew. But after that, it became fuzzy. She vaguely remembered someone making good on those bets; an article or two of clothing flung into the crowd, a flash of skin glimpsed through the party chaos. She wasn’t quite sure who it was, because by then she was dancing. Dancing to forget the failed mission and the guilt feelings, the regrets of how it could have gone differently. She didn’t even remember arriving home in her quarters afterwards, finally coming to consciousness the next morning with the chirp of her comm badge, and the concerned voice of the Captain calling her to the Bridge.
“Dr. Rahal?” Becca stepped through the door to the counselor’s office. “Sorry I’m late, I had to stop in sickbay to get an analgesic first. There was a party last night...“ she offered a brief explanation before taking her seat.
He offered her an understanding grin, “You aren’t the first person who has come in today looking a little rough around the edges. I guess it was quite the rager.” Standing up and stretching his stiff muscles, he then crossed over to the replicator, “Computer, one mug of salep please, with a dusting of cinnamon.” With a glance over his shoulder at Rebecca he asked, “Would a cup of coffee help?”
“Actually, I’ve already had two cups today, how about a chamomile tea?” Becca gave Rahal a smile of gratitude, settling into the overstuffed chair.
Retrieving both their drinks from the replicator, he crossed back over and set the tea on the coffee table in front of her before settling back into his large, overstuffed chair. “I see it’s been a bit since the last time you visited a counselor.” He flashed her an almost apologetic smile, “I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”
His dark brown eyes dropped again to the padd with her personnel file as he asked, “So how about I start by asking how you’re doing?”
“Well, I don’t normally drink to forget. That in itself should tell you something. Enough to get buzzed, to feel pleasantly uninhibited, sure. But not usually to forget.” She sighed sadly, and fell silent, taking a long sip of her tea before continuing.
“We put a life in danger down there, Counselor. Even though we tried to do everything right, to tell the truth. I mean, granted, it was to deliver bad news, but the last thing I.. or anyone else wanted, was to risk the life of someone else.”
“You’re referring to…” he checked the padd again, “Blase Gaudin?” His pen scrawled ink across the paper as he made a note, “You feel responsible for what happened to him then?”
“Maybe.. Yes.. I don’t know.” She hadn’t yet given herself a chance to put her thoughts concerning the matter into words. So far they had just been a jumble of emotions and guilt feelings, replaying in her mind how things could have happened differently. “Maybe we jumped into this mission a little too quickly. If we’d done more surveillance beforehand maybe, or tried to read the crowd better, or if I’d paid more attention to what was going on besides just talking to the bartender, things would have gone better.”
“I see. And were you the only one talking to the bartender?”
“Yes, until the Captain and the Ex-Oh arrived.”
He nodded, turning it all over in his mind as his eyes looked over her file again. “I see you have a fair amount of linguistic expertise. How many languages do you speak?” Idris asked the question casually and turned an interested look back to her.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever quantified it.” She mentally ran through the list, adding in various dialects and language families. “Maybe thirty-five, forty? Depending on if you include the dead languages and rare dialects…”
The corner of his mouth curled slightly in a half smile. “And I assume French is one of those languages?”
“Yes. And New France is one of those places where universal translators don’t exist. They want to preserve their language.” She thought she’d save him the bother of asking the next question. “So, I was speaking french with Paul Bechard. And Hamlet and Tallush were with me, but they don’t speak french. So… if there were any other conversations going on around them that were relevant to our mission, they wouldn’t have understood them.” Dots connected, she took another sip of her tea, waiting to see what else the counselor wanted to know.
An eyebrow arched slightly, “You misunderstand me, Rebecca. You were the only one in your team who spoke French and you were tasked with speaking to Mr. Bechard. I believe the man who shot Blase Gaudin was seated at a table near the door. Which was…” he skimmed over the mission report in search of the distance, “... some forty odd feet away at least. You can’t be expected to be in two places at once.”
He turned an empathetic gaze toward her again, “You shouldn’t hold yourself responsible for things outside of your control. As far as I can tell from the reports, you performed your job to the best of your ability. Sometimes things just don’t go the way we hope.”
Becca sighed, mulling over his conclusion. “I know, and you’re right. I don’t expect everything to go perfectly on these missions, but it’s just that it’s the second one in a row where things didn’t go well. Also, we’ve all been on edge since the transporter accident and the investigation, and I think I just wanted a positive outcome for a change.”
“The loss of the Ibis crew was tragic and senseless, but I suppose that is the fundamental ideal that is at the heart of this war. The idea that the ends always justify the means or does it matter how we reach our goals? Clearly the True Federation believes the death of their own people is an acceptable loss if it serves their purposes.” His brow knit at the thought, “The idea raises a lot of concerns for me. If there are people in Federation space that support the True Federation, surely the opposite is also true and supporters of the Federation found themselves stuck within their new borders…” he lapsed into silence, leaving the rest of his thought unsaid.
“And that’s another reason why I wanted this mission to succeed… “ Becca paused, a look of realisation crossing her face. “My grandmother. She’d been living on the Federation colony on Gault for the last twenty years, and now she’s stuck inside true federation borders, and hasn’t been able to get out. My family doesn’t know what’s happened to her. Every attempt we’ve made to contact her has been blocked by the True Federation. We don’t even know what’s happened to her, or if she’s still alive.
“And now, dealing with this latest attack, I think it became almost personal. I needed the mission to go right and the TF operatives identified, so we can do our part to bring them down - for those stuck behind enemy lines, and those caught in the crossfire. Then it wouldn’t be so senseless.”
He nodded slowly, letting her process all of this for herself for a moment before he finally spoke. “You aren’t alone in those feelings, many people are searching for meaning in all this as well. In the end, all we can do is what is right by our conscience and let go of the things we can’t control. It won’t profit you to beat yourself up over something that went wrong because someone else doesn’t choose their own actions according to that same standard.” Idris was satisfied she seemed to have her head on straight, he just hoped that these latest missions wouldn’t give her difficulty trusting her own decisions when in a crisis situation.
“I’ll try not to,” she promised. “Thank you for the chat, Dr. Rahal. I’ll keep your advice in mind. It’s been very helpful.” She picked up her cup and stood to leave, extending a hand. “Maybe I’ll talk with you again soon. Maybe after the next mission.” The talk with Rahal hadn’t completely erased that little feeling of self-doubt that seemed to always live in her gut. That monster would probably never go away completely. But it had given her a renewed sense of focus. At least, she could try to tame it.
|
|
Babs
Lore Committee
Posts: 210
|
Post by Babs on Jan 28, 2020 22:37:05 GMT
12001.09 “Becca, we managed to intercept a ship’s manifest a few days ago that originated within the True Federation. The point of origin was Gault. And.. it had your grandmother’s name on it.”
“What? Mom, she got out?” Becca’s voice took on a hopeful tone.
Her mother remained silent, and her expression looked anything but hopeful. For a few moments, she didn’t answer, and her brown eyes glistened from within the comm unit’s screen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Work was not on her mind today. As Raj retreated from the tent, Becca had many more questions than answers. His news had caught her completely by surprise. What kind of coincidence was this, that she’d run into someone who’d been on her grandmother’s world recently? Someone who might know what had happened to her family... Or barring that, maybe he at least had some piece of helpful information that she could use. She shook her head to clear her mind, and to try to get herself back to what she was doing. After a few moments of searching through a supply crate, she found the spanner and grabbed it out of the crate, handing it to Tallush.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Mom?”
“We investigated it. And... the transport ship… remnants of it were found at the border in a debris field. It was shot down, Becca.”
The news crashed like a lead weight into her chest. “So, she didn’t make it?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They had searched for months, no news in or out of the colony. Her mother had combed through every manifest and record she could get her hands on, even looking through hospital and death records. Still nothing… until a few days ago.
“Hand me the spanner please.” She heard Tallush repeat again, cutting through the thoughts in her head. “Oh. Uh, sorry. Here you go.” At least, she thought she’d given it to Tallush. She looked down at her hand, still holding the spanner, and then sheepishly gave Migonna the requested item.
Tallush took the spanner and made a few adjustments, gave her a nod, and Becca absentmindedly hit the power button. The power roared to life, lights blinking on throughout the camp.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Her mother shook her head slowly. “There’s more. We found other names on the manifest. Your… aunt, and uncle...” She swallowed, pausing for another long eternity, “and your cousin was on the ship as well.”
“No.. oh god. That can’t be... You’re.. You’re certain they were aboard when the ship was blown up? That they weren’t captured, or maybe they managed to find an escape pod?” Her mind churned with alternate possibilities, refusing to accept the evidence laid out by her mother.
“They can’t be.. They can’t be dead.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Becca barely heard the cheers from the maintenance team. Instead, she searched the crowd, trying to find Raj again.
“Um, excuse me, I have to go find someone,” she heard herself say. She wasn’t sure if Tallush heard her or not, and didn’t wait to find out, slipping out of the tent towards where she thought she saw Raj disappear into the crowd.
|
|
|
Post by Chris H on Jan 29, 2020 10:25:37 GMT
What a beautiful log Babs.
|
|
Babs
Lore Committee
Posts: 210
|
Post by Babs on Feb 13, 2020 21:13:45 GMT
12001.23 (with Annie as Raj)
Becca’s path quickly took her away from the tent where the away team had been working on the power. She thought she’d seen Raj slip down a small street to the left, and she followed past a few burnt out buildings towards the interior of the destroyed town. After a few twists and turns , dodging past crowds of people carrying belongings, a few vendors and more beggars, she found herself in a crowded alleyway thick with smoke and enticing smells of food. Through the haze she could make out a row of ramshackle chairs and tables set up next to a street food stand, and the person she’d been following, sitting at one of the tables apparently enjoying his dinner.
“Raj?” She approached him, catching her breath. “Hi, I’m Rebecca.. We spoke earlier, you said you’d been on Gault. Do you mind if we talk further about it?”
The young man looked up in surprise, his mouth half full of the last bite he took, “Mmph, mm hmm,” he waved his hand at the empty chair at his rickety little metal table as an invitation to sit. Swallowing his food he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and offered her an embarrassed grin, “Sorry, caught me with my mouth full. What did you want to know?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner, but your news caught me by surprise earlier.” Becca pulled the rusty metal chair towards herself and sat, trying to collect her thoughts. “Can you tell me how you got out? My family tried to get out too. And we’ve not heard anything from them, I don’t know if they’re dead, or missing.”
“I mean, I really didn’t get out, I was a prisoner here on Valt. But I left on a freighter with the Fed Lanes, they took me to Starbase 67, from there I caught a lift with a Nausicaan towards the Briar Patch. But the Teffies caught up to us before we could get across into Fed space. The damned Nausicaan turned us over without a second thought, he didn’t want to end up in the camps or worse.”
He took a sip from his water, studying her for a few seconds, “You really look so familiar to me, who was your family?”
“My grandmother’s name is Eleanor Terell, her daughter, my aunt, is Lydia, and my uncle’s name is J’ran. And their daughter’s name is Cora, she’s twelve. Do you know them? I don’t believe I’ve met you before, that I remember anyway.”
“Oh, Eleanor! My girlfriend knew her, we actually went to dinner at her home a few days before I left Gault. She probably had a photo of you or something.”
“Wait, you’ve met her? I suppose it’s not that surprising, it’s a small community. There’s all of maybe two hundred people that live there. How.. how was she?”
“She was good when I saw her. We were talking about the developments with Section 31 and the direction things were heading. But I don’t think any of us really expected the secession. They were still there when I left though, my girlfriend stayed too. She thought I was just being an alarmist.”
Becca nodded. “Things obviously got much worse after that, because she and my other family members apparently tried to get out, they tried to take a transport to the border. But it was the same thing, the True Federation caught up with them… or at least that’s what we think happened. My mother told me a few days ago that the same transport had been found destroyed. I don’t know what happened after that.. I don’t know if they’re dead, or if they were captured like you.”
He felt a surge of compassion and impulsively reached out to place a hand on her arm in a gesture of comfort. “I really wish I had more news for you, but your grandmother was still on the planet when I left and I haven’t really had any news since then.” He seemed to hesitate, holding some information back out of fear of worrying her more.
The young man’s hesitation was not lost on Becca. The tightening of his jaw, a furrowing of his brow revealed there was something he had left unsaid. “There’s something else, isn’t there?’”
He withdrew his hand with a resigned sigh. “I never was very good at poker…” he looked away from her, his eyes roaming over the people, the food stalls, the dirt road. Anything to keep from looking at her face when he shared the next bit of information. “With all the people desperate to get out, some less honorable characters have seen the opportunity to profit from it. Some of the people who buy a ride out end up in the slave market rather than at their promised destination.”
“Oh, god.” Her stomach tightened and she suddenly felt sick. “Even if they did survive… just finding a trail at this point would be an enormous task. Where would I start looking? Is this the Orion slave market, or something else?”
He finally looked at her again, his remorse at having to be the bearer of this news for her written on his face. He shook his head, “I honestly don’t know, everything I’ve heard is just second hand. I just know that not all the people helping people get out have altruistic motivations. I really wish I could tell you more or that I knew what had happened to your family…” his sincerity was clear in his eyes.
“Thank you, it’s a little bit of something to go on at least.” She managed a grateful smile, though her mind was now churning with questions of where to look, how to get the information that would probably be hidden under many layers of secrecy, if there really was a possibility they’d been captured by slavers. “Listen, I should get back, so I’ll leave you to your dinner. If you happen to hear anything else, please look me up on the Chiron. I'm the chief of operations there.”
Raj offered her a nod and attempted to encourage her by way of an unconvincing and weak smile, “I assure you, I will let you know should any information come my way.”
“I appreciate it.” She stood to leave, extending a hand.“Thanks again. I’ll keep an ear out, and best of luck with the repairs.”
|
|
Babs
Lore Committee
Posts: 210
|
Post by Babs on Apr 16, 2020 4:54:44 GMT
12004.09 Viscera Affectum
Becca had two places in her childhood where she could retreat to when she was troubled. On her parents’ freighter, it was a little alcove above the engines, where everything reverberated with the soothing hum, and she could sink into her thoughts. On Gault, it was in a tree at the edge of the little pond behind her grandmother’s farmhouse, where the peepers sang in the summertime.
The relentless uncertainty of not knowing her family’s fate threatened to gnaw away at her. Each time she thought she had a lead, it evaporated in a dead end. Even if Raj had been right, that if they survived, and were somehow sold into the slave trade, she didn’t yet have a solid starting point. She couldn’t bring this to the Command staff, because there was nothing to go on, no proof of anything, except for a secondhand account of their destroyed ship on the edge of True Federation space, and a gut feeling that it couldn’t have been their end. Or, maybe that was just wishful thinking and her mind’s refusal to accept the real, bitter truth.
On the Chiron, the closest equivalent to the soothing hum and the solitude was the jeffries tubes between deck three and four, located somewhere above the warp engines, with an access point near her quarters; she sometimes went there in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep, especially lately. But she couldn’t be there right now. Instead she was on the Bridge, feeling more frustrated than ever, and wishing they could act, to chase down the Lupus past the True Federation's border, and question them about their suspicious behavior.
But, the vague ‘trade goods’ dropped off by the Lupus at the trading post was at least something, a slim hope tenuously perched on the edge of the chasm of unresolved grief that had become the interior of her head. Even if it had nothing to do with her own family, if the ‘trade goods’ turned out to be other smuggled people from within the True Federation, it would at least make her feel better if the Chiron were able to help them...
The unresolved grief threatened to well up from where she’d been pushing it down, and she had to lower her head into the Ops console to keep everyone else from seeing.
More than ever, she missed the summertime on Gault.
|
|
|
Post by aoibheni on Apr 16, 2020 8:24:52 GMT
Oh wow. I loved that. Such beautiful writing!
|
|
Babs
Lore Committee
Posts: 210
|
Post by Babs on Jun 11, 2020 20:21:29 GMT
12005.28 Halfway Home
“Becca!!!!!”
A smaller version of herself came barrelling through the small crowd of refugees in the cargo bay, straight into Rebecca’s arms. She barely had a moment to react before the thin dark haired girl locked her arms around her older cousin’s waist in a tight squeeze.
“Becca, are you ok? I saw you get shot!”
“Cora!! I can’t believe it’s you!! ” Rebecca hugged her twelve year old cousin close, ignoring the residual pain in her shoulder. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.” She blinked back tears of joy and relief. Getting shot was worth this, and so was the Captain’s anger .
“I’m fine, little one, don’t you worry about me,” she replied, looking her cousin over for any injuries, even though she knew that sickbay personnel had already done the same. Her cousin was thin, and looked completely exhausted, with a haunted look that should never have been worn by someone her age, but she wasn’t hurt, physically anyway. Rebecca searched the faces of the other refugees who were milling around the triage area, but she didn’t recognize any of them. “Cora, was anyone else from our family with you?”
“Momma was with me, but they took her, Becca! They dragged her out of the crate with some other people when we got to that station, and I don’t know where she is, you have to find her!” Cora sobbed into her older cousin’s uniform jacket, the weeks of trauma tumbling out all at once.
Becca smoothed her cousin’s hair, the girl’s grief and stress reverberating through her as her sobs continued. “We’re combing the station now. If Aunt Lydia is there, we’ll find her.”
The girl nodded shakily, holding onto Becca until her tears eventually stopped. “Can.. can we get out of this cargo bay?” she sniffled. “It reminds me too much of that scary station.”
“Of course we can. Let’s go to my quarters, I’ll get you some food and a place to sleep, until they find your Momma.” She put an arm protectively around her young cousin, leading her out of the Chiron’s cargo bay and to the nearest turbolift.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Computer, begin recording.”
“Personal Log, Rebecca Terell. Stardate 12005.28.
“Captain Sumner was furious at us, but it was absolutely worth it, and I’d do it again if I had to. We’ve recovered all the refugees from that evil slave trading station. Aunt Lydia and Cora are alive, and I finally have them back, safe and mostly sound. But, this isn’t over yet. My Grandmother and Uncle J’ran are still out there somewhere.” Rebecca sighed with an all too familiar grief-laden exhaustion, her heart aching for the two that were still missing.
“Lydia said that the transport they took from Gault was raided by the Yridians. The four of them were captured and then separated.. Lydia and Cora were put on one ship, and J’ran and my Grandmother were taken to another. When Uncle J’ran resisted and tried to fight them, they struck him and he went limp. Then they took him and my grandmother away, and that’s.. that’s the last she saw of them...” Her voice choked, and she had to take a minute before she continued.
“Aunt Lydia also told me that at one point, their ship stopped, and the guards dragged a woman away to be sold. She said that they overheard the guards saying that the woman was a scientist, and that they were selling her to the True Federation. And, that the ship that she was being taken to, arrived through a subspace rupture.
“It sounds alot like the ship with the experimental drive. If that’s the case, it means they’re using enslaved scientists on board. And it also means that, amongst all of the other atrocities they’ve committed, the True Federation are also actively participating in slavery...”
“Becca?” A small voice interrupted her monologue.
Rebecca turned to see Cora standing at the door to her small bedroom. Her aunt was still sleeping fitfully on the spare bed, which Cora had just vacated in the main room beyond. “Computer, pause recording.”
“Hi Cora. Come in. Are you doing ok?”
“I couldn't sleep, and I’m scared. What’s going to happen to Daddy and Grandmama?” Cora crossed the room to where Becca was sitting on a small sofa, and sat next to her, drawing up her knees to her chin as she leaned against her older cousin’s shoulder for comfort.
“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully, offering the girl a sideways hug, and wishing she had a better answer to give her.
“But, what I do know is that now that we know more about the slavers who took them, it’ll be that much easier to find out where they are. And we’ll do everything in our power to find them, and bring them home.”
“I hope so. I really miss them, Becca.”
“So do I, sweetie. So do I.”
|
|
|
Post by Einar on Jun 18, 2020 6:18:22 GMT
I really wish I knew more about what just happened! gaah! great log
|
|
Babs
Lore Committee
Posts: 210
|
Post by Babs on Aug 27, 2020 17:19:02 GMT
12008.20
The PADD that Taemin had so unceremoniously shoved into Rebecca’s face sat untouched on the empty OPS console.
The four dead Orion intruders still lay shrouded in the Voodoo Child’s medbay, alongside the one who was barely alive.
For the moment, Becca had taken herself off of bridge duty and retreated from the rest of the crew to her bunk, away from the stares and murmurs, desperately needing some time alone to think.
Despite Taemin’s best black looks and sharp words, the angry doctor had left little impact compared to the mental punishment that Becca was currently putting herself through, and would probably repeat in some form or another for the rest of her life.
She probably shouldn’t have come on this mission, she knew that much. The trauma that her family had recently been through was too fresh in her mind, and still too unresolved. She should have stayed behind to deal with it instead of pushing it aside to chase down a captain who probably didn’t want her crew finding her anyway.
And she especially shouldn’t have gone into non-federation territory, where anything could happen, even an encounter with an Orion slaver ship.
When the dust settled, she was shocked that she’d killed them, of course. She'd never killed anyone in her life, not even during the Tzenkethi War. But they meant harm, and had declared their intent. She was not sorry that she’d chosen to strike first instead of cowering in a corner.
Beaming the intruders off of the bridge had been a gut reaction, a protective measure. Harsh? Yes. Justified? Maybe. Never again would those five Orion threaten any other innocent lives.
If it saved more people from being taken as slaves, it was worth it. If it meant a prison cell at the end of this mission, then she would take the punishment.
She was sorry that she had put the crew at risk. They could have been blown to pieces in retaliation from the angry Orion ship. In that respect, what she’d done was impulsive and stupid, and she knew that. But thanks to the Maquis, they were still alive to deal with the aftermath, and the emotional fallout that came with it.
If Taemin wanted the bodies beamed back out into space, she would have to do it herself. And good luck trying to figure out what to do with the one who survived.
|
|
|
Post by aoibheni on Aug 27, 2020 18:01:32 GMT
Oooooh, the drama! ::popcorn popcorn popcorn::
|
|
|
Post by spacedaisy on Aug 31, 2020 2:32:25 GMT
I loved that so much Babs!
|
|