Remembering Fairer Winds and Following Seas
Posted on Wed Jul 3rd, 2024 @ 4:22am by Commander Steven Greco & Lieutenant Evelyn Stewart & Lieutenant Tollan Yara & Char & Lieutenant Commander Keishara Davaris & Lieutenant Dashku Zhevou & Lieutenant JG Baaru Liana & 1st Lieutenant Kes Th’relnal & Lieutenant T'Mara & Lieutenant JG Sam Matthews & Lieutenant JG Koaruh Avestro & Ensign Sophie Bishop & Senior Chief Petty Officer Rufio Dulay & Gunnery Sergeant Matewa Natana
0 words; about a 1 minute read
Mission:
Year One: Whispers in the Wind
Location: USS Moore - DMZ
Timeline: MD 040: 16:00 hrs
Stewart waited outside the DMZ in her dress uniform for Keishara. She had a feeling that the security chief wasn't going to be in the best of moods handling the memorial and wanted to stay close to the woman to keep her in line. It was no secret that Davaris was volatile and Evelyn worried she would be having less emotional control at such a solemn event.
Keishara had always hated wearing the dress uniform. It always felt far more restricting than it had to be and far to yellow for her liking. She felt like a standout which she didn't like.
What happened on Brighton, and the Romulan settlement, had been festering with her. She hated death on any scale and this was abhorrent and she'd been spending many nights on the holodeck with the safety settings off just to feel something different, to vent her anger and frustration in a channeled manner. As such she had some bruised knuckles and out of the collar of the neckline of her uniform there was another bruise but coupled with the slight appearance of a laceration she was trying to hide.
Walking up to Evelyn Keishara and stood next to her. "Ev." she said simply as she looked inside the DMZ.
Stryvek strode into the DMZ with a purposeful step. He acknowledged Evelyn with a nod, which was actually more than he had done in the past. He seemed to be learning how to act in a relationship with someone with emotions. However, this was neither the time nor was it the place. "Lieutenant, Commander with any luck as it were this will help put this behind us." The sight of the bruises on Keishara was not missed by the Vulcan. He decided he would speak with his old friend in private.
"I would doubt it." Keishara replied to the captain's comment. "I get the impression that this is only the start of things to come." she added rather ominously. She had already began to see some division in the crew as to what happened with the Whispers and their actions. Not quite to the level of open dissent or support but scuttlebutt was rife and even on a ship this size they were not above Chinese Whispers.
Sophie was already in the DMZ, she came with Sam. Recently she'd been quiet, insular and Sam had managed to drag her out of her quarters to make an appearance. Although this was not quite the occasion to lift spirits but he felt they both needed to be there as they were both on Brighton when the attack took place.
Sophie's breathing was quick, not quite hyperventilating level but quicker than usual.
Sam placed his hand on top of hers. "It's okay, Soph. I'll be right here."
A quick couple of nods came from her as he said, "Thanks Sam." and flipped her hand to give his a squeeze.
"Hate these things." Matewa said plainly as he held a drink in one hand and used his other arm to prop himself up against the bar.
"We've been to too many, that's why." Rufio answered simply as he looked out onto the room as it slowly filled with people.
"Got to be thankful for one thing, well maybe two." Mat answered.
"That we are alive, and?" Rufio asked.
"That they hold most of them in bars." Matewa again answered and took a drink from his glass.
T'Mara had received the directive on her personal comm. A memorial service. It was an event to honor the lives of colleagues lost. Although she did not know these particular colleagues, an early demise was a waste of resources, training, and intellect. It was an unfortunate event on all fronts. She arrived before the pre-arranged time but not early enough to be the first person in the 'DMZ,' which was a rather strange name for a social area on the ship. T'Mara quickly surveyed the space and found a spot at the bar that was relatively out of the way but not too far isolated. As she did not know many people onboard, it would not make sense to occupy a place that would displace others who had stronger relationship claims or knew those who were being memorialized today. It was logical to consider such factors when choosing a place to sit.
It hurt. Kes gritted his teeth at the discomfort as he gave himself one finally look over himself in the dress uniform. Well, what passed for a dress uniform for the Marines. He was used to the more form fitting uniforms of the Andorian Imperial Guard, but instead he simply adjusted the medals over his heart. He'd served in many missions over his career and he'd been to enough of these sort of memorials to understand the need for remembrance.
The burly Andorian walked the final few meters toward the DMZ and nodded to those he saw along the way. Inside, he caught familiar faces and made his way to Matewa. "If what is in your glass is strong, I'll have one too."
Matewa nodded and poured his boss a drink.
Dashku arrived on her own, she was in full dress uniform that she'd made sure was cleaned and pressed. Even if she hadn't known those that had been killed all that well she was going to make sure she was well dressed for it. She picked a few pieces of jewelry that weren't exactly regulation, but she liked. Her hair wasn't in it's usual pony tail, but had curled it and made sure it looked good.
When she arrived, she nodded to a couple of the officers as she stepped into the DMZ, before heading up to the bar and giving Char a little bit of a flirty smile. She knew she shouldn't lead him on but she had a feeling he had stocked up since they were in orbit over a colony. Sure there was a terrorist attack, but he was good at keeping the bar stocked.
"Char," She said softly. "Did you pick up anything... special while we've been visiting the colony?"
Char was going to ask the new Vulcan doctor if he could get her anything specific when he saw Dash approaching. Despite the solemn occasion, he couldn't help his deeper shade of blue rushing to his cheeks when he took in the sight of the Orion, hair down and a charming smile that he loved.
He gave a shy smile and nodded to the woman. "Poteen, a Betazed blend. It's quite potent and strong." He said lowly, almost conspiratorially about the unique whiskey, as he leaned over the bar to get closer to the lieutenant.
Dashku leaned forward a little and gave him an approving nod, she knew she shouldn't lead the man on but she also knew he was the best way to get the best alcohol on the ship. "Why don't you pour me a glass?" She asked softly. "How do you suggest it served? Neat? On the rocks?"
The Bolian poured a moderate glass and passed it to the woman in front of him with a knowing smirk. “Nice and neat. Tell me what you think.”
Dash accepted the glass, she took a moment to take in the scent and just enjoy the notes. She might be able to knock back shots with the best of them, but she also could take a moment to savor the finer things. After a moment she took a sip, let it sit in her mouth for a moment before she swallowed.
"That is lovely, you are too kind. I'm going to go mingle a little. Thank you Char."
Char gave the Orion a quick wink and flash of a smile for her compliment in a pathetic attempt to flirt before nodding as she walked away.
Dash gave him a warm smile before she turned to survey the room, and see if there was anyone even worth joining. Stewart and Davaris were as thick as thieves, which was the norm, and they kept glancing at T'Mara and Sophie. She was pretty sure Davaris tolerated her at best and despite sitting next to Stewart on the bridge most days, she didn't feel like she knew her all that well. Sophie was the young ensign in her department and was talking with the new Doctor, Sophie was being as awkward as always and there was no reason to make it worse. Even if a part of her wanted to, but that was an old thought. Then there was the XO, who seems to be off on his own, as well as the Chief Engineer. Finally, she made her decision and moved to engage in conversation.
Steve let out a deep breath that he was holding as he approached the entrance to the DMZ. Smoothing the front of his dress uniform, he knew that he would likely need to lead the proceedings as the Vulcan captain wasn't much for words dealing with emotions. That reality didn't console him in the least bit. He tried not to think about the various injured and dead, many of which were the ship's crew, that afternoon as he took charge of the situation on the planet.
Walking in, Greco nodded to the various officers who's path he crossed as he looked around. Seeing Ensign Trian near tears, he walked over and gave the junior officer a comforting squeeze of her elbow and soft smile as he offered quiet words of comfort as he took the room. His eyes caught and rested on Sophie, and he set his jaw and looked away in shame over their exchange in the holodeck before continuing to look around to see if the entire senior staff is in attendance as he approached the captain.
Stepping into the DMZ, Liana kept herself to one side of the room. She was here more out of obligation then anything as she felt that she should at least make an appearance to pay respects to the victims of the attack. The stories she heard from the Bajoran resistance members that stopped by her family farm, such actions while brutal and saddening were sometimes necessary. And to top things off, she was still a little sore over the discussion that had been had at the Poker night and at having her people labeled as terrorists for defending their home.
Dashku approached the Chief Engineer, she gave her a half smile. "I didn't bring you a drink but I thought I'd at least say hello. We could at least talk shop." She offered the latter as a way to engage but only keep it surface level. Maybe it would help.
Sophie felt eyes on her and as she looked up she felt the gaze of Steve on her. It was a quick glance but still caused the butterflies in her stomach to flutter and annoyance in her brow as it furrowed. She still couldn't believe he'd been so stupid as to stop himself getting laid... she felt she could have literally have been naked and he'd be trying to put her socks on for her.
She shook her head, this was not the time to think of things like that. Not when people had lost their lives, and her being nearly one of them. As such she felt a swell of emotion and rose from her seat to calm herself. As she did so she noticed a new face at the back of the room, a Vulcan woman in blue.
Sophie walked over and smiled at her, "Hi, I'm Sophie." the Vulcan woman looked at her. "Oh or well Ensign Bishop, ships operations." she extended a hand towards the woman.
T'Mara was not expecting to be approached during the memorial. She was only there because it was expected of her and was going to retreat as soon as it was appropriate to do so...and yet here stood a human female, a self-identified Ensign Sophie Bishop, operations officer. She had the most unusual shade of hair color...
The human woman's hand was extended. Ah. They were often touching one another.
Not seeing any other way out of this, T'Mara ensured that her mental 'shields' were in place and hesitantly reached out in reciprocation for a 'hand shake,' and quickly withdrew as soon at it was feasible. "Greetings. I am Lieutenant T'Mara. Chief Medical Officer."
She couldn't help but look over Bishop's shoulder to Commander Greco for a second before returning her attention fully to the woman standing in front of her. T'Mara's ability to shield through touch was acceptable, but inevitably something transferred. Bishop's attentions were turned toward the XO. Thankfully, she did not glean anymore details from the handshake than that.
Sophie could see the slight hesitance from T'Mara. It suddenly dawned on her that some Vulcan's don't like the touchy feely greeting of Humans. She internally chastised herself as she was taught this at the Academy, the small quirks some species have.
"Welcome on board Lieutenant. I'm sorry this is your first taste of a large group of us. Usually we are a lot happier, a lot livelier. We've been through a lot..." Sophie sighed.
"I come to serve." T'Mara responded with the traditional response, but her brows furrowed as she attempted to parse what Bishop had just said to her.
"I am confused, Ensign Bishop...why do you find it necessary to offer apologizes for something completely outside of your control?" T'Mara's brow rose in a nonverbal gesture of complete mystification.
"And we are happy to be served." Sophie bowed before she realised what she was doing was absolutely ridiculous. Quickly shooting back up to stand in a rather rigid posture, "Not that you're a servant, we don't do that. I mean, your service to Starfleet is great... I'll stop..." She babbled. "And I guess I don't know why I apologised, it just felt like the right thing to say?" she half asked.
T'Mara blinked. Bishop's reply to her was utterly incomprehensible at first...ah. She had inadvertently committed a intercultural misunderstanding.
"Ensign. It is...alright. I replied to your greetings with a traditional Vulcan response. My culture values service. It would equate to...perhaps, "I find it acceptable to be here." I did not intend to confound you with my response...and your apology is unnecessary. Being present at a memorial on a new ship is not a hardship. It is an opportune time to observe other crew members."
Sophie looked out towards the crew that had assembled. They were all shapes and sized, different species mixing and all shared the same emotions, except for Vulcans... but still T'Mara was right. "I guess you're right." she said with a little twang to her voice. She'd tried hard to weed out her accent but sometimes it still snuck in. "Do you like your sickbay?" she asked feeling somewhat at a loss at how to make 'small talk' with a Vulcan.
"It is acceptable..." T'Mara wasn't about to start complaining about the inexplicable organization currently in-use--most likely a hold-over from the previous CMO--but that did not seem the appropriate verbalization to disparage her predecessor. "It is not a critical access hospital; but I am...optimistic we will be able to adequately treat the majority of those who require medical intervention." T'Mara was silent for a moment, but her expression, such as it was, appeared to be searching.
"Have...have I answered your inquiry in a suitable manner, Lieutenant? It is my intention to be 'approachable.'"
"Yes. You have answered my query." Sophie hesitantly placed a hand on T'Mara's upper arm. A Human quirk, the need to physical contact. "I'll leave you be. Commander Greco is about to speak." she smiled at the Vulcan before moving back to retake her seat with Sam.
T'Mara looked at the human woman's hand on her arm and only barely resisted the urge to wrench it out of the operations officer's grasp. Barely. Why would anyone feel a need to touch her? It brought forward all kinds of subsumed thoughts that normally were held within a tightly locked box within her mind. There was now going to be a long meditation session in her future to hammer everything back into place.
Dipping her head in a non-verbal gesture of acknowledgement, T'Mara watched the strangely gregarious human woman walk away and join another gold-collared human male.
It was fascinating to watch such inter-personal relations.
Stewart sipped at her glass she received from the bar, eyeing the new Vulcan doctor cautiously as she returned to Keishara’s side. “You seeing this? Bishop and the Elf doctor, making friends.” Evelyn’s tone was hushed but annoyed watching across the room.
"Everyone needs a pet. Maybe she'll hypo Bishop to calm her down." Kei shook her head at the over enthusiastic ensign. "I don't think I was ever that eager." she took a swig of her drink. "I think this doctor stands stiffer than your captain."
Stewart narrowed her eyes as she darted them to the woman next to her. “I told you, it was a one time thing. It’s not something I want to relive any time soon.” She lied easily to the security chief, her eyes scanning the room and barely looking in the direction of the captain.
"Sure." Keishara replied. Evelyn's mental discipline was not as strong as she thought it was. Her emotional attachment to Stryvek was clear, and her attempt at lying unsuccessful. An El Aurian's mental ability far exceeded that of most other species.
Keishara's eyes cast over the room. She'd been to far too many of these over the years, and she wasn't just meaning in her Starfleet career. Life took its toll on the long lived in more lasting ways she'd always thought. "Have you spoken to her?" Keishara indicated the Vulcan woman. "You might like her."
Stewart sighed out her annoyance at the thought of the newest Vulcan to join the crew, even as she sized her up. "There is nothing to actually say to her," She admitted to the El-Aurian. "All Vulcans are the same: dull, dry, pompous and arrogant to a fault. They make the worst conversationalists." Evelyn hoped by pointing out the faults in Vulcans it would remind Kei that Stewart had no love for the species.
Evelyn's eyes drifted from the doctor to the bruises that Keishara was trying to hide under the collar of her uniform and the ones on her knuckles. "Though I think perhaps you should pay her a visit in Sickbay, given how poorly you seem to be able to handle a dermal regenerator as of late." The pilot offered quietly while surveying the room, sipping at her drink. She had no intention of embarrassing her friend, but Stewart didn't like what she saw of the evidence of Keishara's mindset as of late and felt responsible to at least address it, if only subtly.
"It's fine." Keishara said looking down at her knuckles. "My dermal regenerator broke a few days ago and I just need to get a new one." she added leaving out the part where it had been launched across the room at the imaginary figure of Dodian, her long dead friend. Now feeling somewhat conscious of how she looked she pulled the collar of her uniform up a little more and placed her hands behind her back.
Looking at the new doctor she didn't care she was Vulcan, she just didn't care at all about a lot right now. "There are some things doctors don't have all the answers for." Kei said cryptically. "And I've always found it strange that some become medics. Surely that field needs empathy and actual feelings for patients?" she threw it out to change the subject.
Stewart glanced at the Vulcan doctor as they moved to gather with the senior staff, turning back to whisper to the security chief. "They just need to be logical. Get the job done so their patient can get out. Fine by me..."
Commander Greco glanced at the senior staff standing with him before turning his attention to the rest of the crew. "The last time I saw so many of you here I had just beaten Commander Davaris and Lieutenant Stewart in foosball with Ensign Bishop over there," He said with a soft smile before his eyes drifted on Sophie, standing still with Sam. "Those were happier times...and this farewell is far over due..." His voice drifting off as he remembered fondly his victory with Sophie and his celebrating by jumping onto one of the couches.
"I meant it then and I mean it now, this is the best damned crew in Starfleet. So many lives were saved in both the Romulan colony and Brighton Colony because of this crew's swift actions. I am proud to serve with all of you, but I cannot deny the pain of losing our own: Roberts, Bar'tel, Mira, Carmichael, Kennedy and Usso. Despite only knowing them for about a month, some of you longer than that, I am proud to say I knew them and served with them. I know they would not want us to mourn their loss but honor their lives and sacrifice" With a deep breath, Greco raised his glass. "You will never be forgotten from the continued memories by your crew and your families. Keep them in your hearts and always cherish the service they provided for all of us to live comfortably." He said as a toast to the fallen officers.
Dashku raised her glass to toast, it wasn't the first time she'd been through a loss of a fellow crew member, but she never seemed to view loss the same as many of her shipmates. She felt for the loved ones, but loss was nothing new to her. She'd lost friends growing up, had to give up all of her family and friends to join Starfleet and she was the better for it. People died, it was a fact of being part of the living. Maybe if she'd known them better, she'd feel the loss more keenly. Still, she would play the part the decorum of the situation demanded.
Keishara nodded with what Greco had said. She too raised her glass as she continuously beat herself up internally for what had happened. Loss of life on any scale was horrible but more so that she'd knew those individuals since they joined the Moore. Some forgot that she'd been on the ship as long as the stoic captain. 14 years was a long time and even though she gave off the look of not making any personal connections, she did and it hurt when they were lost in such a way.
Sophie listened as tears formed in her eyes. She focussed on her breathing as if that was all she could do not to burst into a fit of hysterics. Sam placed a hand on her shoulder and passed her a small handkerchief.
For a moment Sophie hesitated wondering where he'd got that from, or why he carried one, before accepting it and using it to dry some tears.
Matewa and Rufio raised their glasses high. They'd been on the Moore a long time as well but stoically honoured their fallen friends.
Kes raised his glass and then quickly downed the contents as his antennae leaned forward. He was new to the ship and hadn't really met many of those fallen personally. But comrades often quickly became as family. Remembering back to his time serving during the Dominion War and when he had been to his first remembrance, his heart did sink as he knew there would be more.
T'Mara watched as members of the crew raised their glasses and took a drink from them. It was obviously some sort of observance ritual which she was unfamiliar with. As she did not have a drink to pantomime the movement, she instead stood still in what she hoped was a respectful stance as the crew--which she did not yet count herself amongst--performed their ritualistic gestures to honor those who had given their lives in the service of Starfleet.
Without a word, Stewart followed suit in raising her glass. This was her first genuine assignment outside of a training facility. She hadn't lost crewmen before. She still was aware of how deeply the lost was for others.
Tollan Yara just hung his head and silently mourned as he stood next to Koaruh. The Trill had known the crewmen well, especially Roberts. Yara took his death especially hard and was privately glad a new chief medical officer was assigned so that he could focus on healing himself.
Koaruh noticed the emotional rollercoaster that flooded the room. It would be hard not to, and you didn't need to be a Betazoid to notice the sombre atmosphere. Most notably he felt the strongest pull from Yara, he was the closest to Koaruh, and all he could do was place a hand on the man's back to let him know he wasn't alone and that Koaruh was there, a friend being there for another. He too felt sadness for the loss of his crewmates but sometimes the emotions of others could dilute his own.
Stryvek observed his crew and what they felt was right in the loss of so much life. As for him, he looked at death the way any Vulcan did. It was the logical end to life, the end of the journey and the beginning of the next one. He did not have a drink to raise, nor did he feel compelled to get one and raise it. Instead he stood with his hands behind his back in quiet contemplation. Stryvek and his XO have had their disagreements, however, in this moment the Vulcan knew that he had selected with logic. There would be a note in the Commander's record on how well he handled this situation, and the crew.
After sipping his drink, Commander Greco was about to continue when the lights flickered and a loud shrill came over the comm system.
=A=Bridge to Stryvek, we are receiving another subspace transmission, Priority One again. I can't trace i-=A=
The call from Ensign Chapman was cut short, being interrupted by the shrill sound giving way to the dark, indistinguishable voice that was heard throughout the ship weeks prior.
"Be warned, traitors of the Federation, with every hero of our cause you send to death, a thousand voices rise in their place!," The disembodied voice shouted in clear anger. "Our martyrs will not not die in vain as you handed them over to our enemies. Do not think because you have killed our leaders that we will be silenced. Every whisper lost will be replaced with the roar of the people! We will are everywhere and we will not forget." The voice warned ominously before the transmission cut out, leaving the the crew to wonder if the warning was a threat or a promise.
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