outpostzeta - Tumblr blog

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imperial intelligence subordinate: darth jadus is here to see you again.

keeper:

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“It would appear that he suffers from an acute form of claustrophobia. It’s a wonder that he lasted as long as he did.”

[…]

“I just have to finish what I started. After all, a verse about the Cardassian who panicked in the face of danger would ruin General Martok’s song.”

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Reblogging because the wedding log was posted. This was their outfits!

Some more doodles from Bajoran character’s rp from STO, which has been a lot of fun. *lesgasp* They’re getting married, and I had an exceptional amount of fun imagining wedding robes and betrothal bracelets and that dja pagh. 

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Cool things to share!

so my grandma died recently, and my parents have been dealing with the quantities of Stuff accumulated over the course of her and my grandpa’s lives, which could be interesting on its own as a family matter, but, well, grandpa was a science fiction writer, and they knew a lot of science fiction writers, which means a lot of the stuff is classic sci-fi and fantasy. books, artwork, that kind of thing. what i had not realized, but perhaps should have predicted, was that knowing a lot of science fiction writers in the ‘60s meant that they knew people who had written for this one TV show in the ‘60s that some science fiction writers worked on, and these people liked to share stuff.

what i’m saying is that i have now held in my hands one of the original, physical scripts for the star trek episode “amok time”.

it was like holding a piece of history. my own hands, carefully cradling the origin of sex pollen and fuck or die. a work whose influence went far behind what the writer could have expected–sacred, almost, in its way. who knows how much spawned from this episode? how much fanfiction would never have existed were it not for this holy text? indeed, the very concept of slash itself? an artifact, a priceless relic, sitting on my parents’ couch.

i haven’t seen the entirety of the episode itself, so i don’t know if there are any real differences between the script and what was aired, but i had to skim it anyway–and i did find something that is perhaps worth mentioning, whether or not this actually counts as canon. but hey, hard to get more canon than an Actual Official Script, right?

VULCANS BLUSH YELLOW, BITCHES, IT’S CANON

also, this:

thanks for specifying “karate-type”, theodore sturgeon. coulda gotten confusing, that.

anyway, it was a deeply surreal experience and i’m pretty sure the script is getting donated someplace with a lot of the other stuff, but man, my grandparents were cool

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UNMUTE

about sums it up.

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Wedding Bells of Bajor

GM

After the last of the family members file in, the Vedek helping preside over the wedding make his way towards the centralized area of the temple's courtyard. He carries a torch with a blue flame, which seems to mimic the color of the Celestial Temple out in space. Out of respect  for the to-be weds, he is not wearing green. Rather, he is still wearing the signature red colors of the Vedek priesthood. He remains silent as he advances towards two unlit bronze braziers, each depicting the emblem of Bajor on them. He makes his way towards one, carefully igniting it.

Captain S'uvok

After the Vedek, S'uvok steps in behind, a formal gait to his steps.  He wears his dress uniform, crisply pressed, emblazoned in the crimson color of command, with the added accent of the medals he had earned over the course of duty to one side of his chest.  Tucked under an arm is a somewhat large, leather-bound volume, with the Monsoon's name and registry branded onto the cover.  S'uvok steps to the head of the dias , between the pair of braziers being lit by the vedek

Commander Vorras

Somewhere, Joran is in the back of the room in dress whites for the event, and Vorras is tucked away somewhere with Rai waiting for things to begin fussing with his cape to make sure it's flawless for her behalf.

GM

Upon the arrival of S'uvok, the Vedek takes a few steps back, until he's mostly out of the way of the officiant of the wedding. He holds the torch in front of him. standing nearly motionless for the moment. He doesn't make eye contact with anyone. Instead, his gaze is locked forward, waiting in anticipation.

Lt. Rai Renya

Renya stood just off to the side of the aisle with Vorras back in the alcove just outside the sanctuary. She just kept ..fiddling with her nails waiting for their cue.

Maris Larmrys

A few moments after the torch was lit, Maris Larmrys made his into the courtyard. He was clad head to toe in traditional Bajoran regalia for wedding ceremonies: A curious turquoise greenish set of robes, whose fabric appeared somewhat heavy and a bit uncomfortable to walk in. Despite this, he walks, his posture near perfect, towards the front. The Vedek seemed to nod as Larmrys took his proper place towards the front.

GM

After a moment, the Vedek steps forward. With torch in hand, he makes his way towards the unlit brazier; swiftly igniting it. It emits the signature bluish green hue the celestial temple is known for. He then steps back, refocusing his gaze forward, in anticipation for the next arrivals into the courtyard.

Lt. Rai Renya

After the next brazier was lit, Renya appeared at the end of the aisle on Vorras' arm. She was dressed similarly, the only difference being a headpiece that trailed down over her gown. She walked more rigid and kept her gaze straight forward as if she feared falling off a wire. When they were at the end of the aisle, Renya let go of Vorras' arm and folded her hands in front of her looking towards the front.

Captain S'uvok

S'uvok opens the leather-bound book, holding it there with both hands.  His eyes scan across the pages and then looks to the bride, then the groom “Who presents this woman to be married to this man.”

Commander Vorras

"Commander Vorras tr'Vrakkihal, Acting on behalf of the Father of the Bride."

Captain S'uvok

S'uvok nods to Vorras in acknowledgment before looking back toward the book "Since the days of the first wooden vessels on Earthg, a tradition began that all shipmasters have had one happy privilege. That of uniting two people in the bonds of matrimony. A tradition we cary out today. We are gathered here today with you, Lieutenant Rai Renya, and you, Captain Maris Larmrys, in the sight of your fellows, in accordance with our laws and our many beliefs so that you may pledge your lives together in wedded matrimony."

Maris Larmrys

At least for the moment, Larmrys is able to ignore the presence of his father, the source of near perpetual complications in his life. As S'uvok speaks, his eyes are fixed completely on Rai. He keeps his posture steady and straight; though he is unable to contain the faint smile on his features. He takes several deep breaths in anticipation.

Lt. Rai Renya

Renya likewise had her eyes on Larmrys, all the doubt and second guessing melting out of her expression. She smiled, and though it was a soft smile, it was one of pure happiness.

Captain S'uvok

"The compact of marriage, for officers of the Starfleet Tradition, is a unique fraternity.  One where duty, to one's ship, to one's crew is enjoined with duty to one's spouse.  It is a path no two should embark upon lightly.  But indeed, is it not so with all of our endeavors?  Our remit is to boldly go where none have gone before.  And for each new world we explore, for each new civilization we encounter, we face our duty with character, and conviction.  So it is between these too, further cemented by love, and devotion." It was difficult to determine if S'uvok was reading from the book or from memory, but he added to the pantomime by turning pages every so often"Will the couple please join hands?"

Maris Larmrys

Larmrys draws in another breath, though it lacked any of the uncertainty of events before. Without any fear, even fear of his father's own judgement, he extends his hands, reaching to grasp her's with a wide smile on his face.

Lt. Rai Renya

Renya likewise held out her hands until they were in Larmrys' and smiled big. Even though they were in a room full of people, it really felt like they were the only ones present in some surreal fashion.

Captain S'uvok 

"Have the bride and groom prepared vows for one another?" S'uvok looks between the two.

Maris Larmrys

He offers a nod of his head, looking once towards his former Commanding officer. He then looks once towards the audience before them, and then back towards Renya. "The world we live in is one fraught with danger and uncertainty. Indeed, some of us do wonder if we'll end up in the fire-caves below our feet. But I say, with all that threatens what's decent and true; that having someone beside me to weather those storms is something I will not refuse. Whatever struggle we face, whatever terror we must weather, I pledge to be at your side. I say this here, with the Prophets and the Emissary  as my witnesses." He says, invoking the traditional Bajoran conclusion to a vow at the end of his prepared vow.

 Lt. Rai Renya

Renya flushed lightly and bit her lower lip recalling the words of her own vows. "For a structure to stand, it must have a balanced foundation. It is something you find in your own shortcomings. It is something you create with love and effort. I offer these things to you, to bring you peace in the face of wrath, comfort in times of uncertainty, a place of warmth and safety when you face the cold realities of this life. You have my steadfast love and devotion, for whatever we face, it is together from this day forward. I say this here with the Prophets and the Emissary as my witnesses."

Captain S'uvok

S'uvok turns the page in his book, taking a brief breath before speaking "Do you, Captain Maris Larmrys, take Lieutenant Rai Renya, to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you vow to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others?"

Maris Larmrys

At Rai's words, he falls silent, for a moment losing himself to a wave of blissful happiness. He quickly regains his composure at S'uvok's question, nodding on both accounts before answering them verbally. "I do."

Captain S'uvok

He then looks to Renya "And do you, Lieutenant Rai Renya, take Captain Maris Larmrys, to be your lawfully wedded husband?  Do you vow to love, honor, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others?"

 Lt. Rai Renya

"I do." Renya spoke without hesitation, still smiling from ear to ear.

Captain S'uvok

"Captain Maris and Lieutenant Rai will now exchange rings.  Rings have a great deal of symbolism and meaning for many cultures of the Federation.  They imply a preciousness.  Likewise they infer a connection. A link.  Likewise as is the nature of a circle, it is without beginning, and without end.  A metaphor for the love possessed by these two." He looked to them both "The Rings?"

Maris Larmrys

After S'uvok's words, Larmrys approached Renya, a wide grin on his face. Procuring the wedding band offered some months prior, he offered his ring to Renya's. Hardly daunted by the presence of his father and other persons of conflict present in the crowd; his gaze remained on her as she presumably reciprocated the gesture.

 Lt. Rai Renya

Renya reached down into the fold of her sash for a simple silver band, bearing some of the same symbols as the betrothal bracelet she had offered him. She shakily held it out still smiling.

Captain S'uvok

"Larmrys.  Please place this ring on Renya's left hand and repeat after me: Renya, with this ring, I thee wed." S'uvok stated in an even monotone that somehow the other Zulu Captain could detect all of the subtle nuances of emotion in the words

Commander Gillaine

He slid the ring onto her left finger before repeating he verse of his former Commanding Officer and mentor. "Renya, with this ring, I thee wed."

Captain S'uvok

S'uvok then looked to Rain, noting the slight tremble in her hands and offered a nod of reassurance "Rai... place the ring on Larmrys' finger and repeat after me: Larmrys, with this ring, I thee wed."

 Lt. Rai Renya

Renya swallowed and tried not to think about doing something stupid like, dropping the thing. "Larmrys, with this ring, I thee wed." She repeated fitting the circlet on his finger in turn.

Captain S'uvok

"Should any among us have any reason why these two should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace." S'uvok looked out toward the assembly In the rows of guests Maris Folok sat stalwart, and his eyes shifted to some of the extended family.  A stoicism underpinned by sternness that he would brook no interruptions on his son's day

Maris Larmrys

The members of the extended family remain practically muted, not daring to digress from their father's wishes.

Captain S'uvok

"Then by the power vested in me by Starfleet Command and the United Federation of Planets, it is my honor and privilege to pronounce you man and wife.  You may now engage in a public display of romantic affection in order to signify a sealing of your vows."

Lt. Rai Renya

Renya blushed lightly, but nevertheless leaned in for a rare exhibit of overt affection. She closed her eyes and savored the kiss.

Captain S'uvok

S'uvok notes the date and time in the parchment pages of the leather-bound ship's log an official, written record of the marriage officiation having taken place as part of the Captain's duties for the day.

Maris Larmrys

Not seeming to mind the large crowd of people before them, he savored the moment with her. When he stepped away, he afforded her a wide, knowing smile. He then looked to the assembly.

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We interrupt this Trek blog to bring you a kitten who you must unmute and watch til the very end in honor of our guild leader.

“Kitty!”

Unmute !

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Engineer Andorian's Song

Engineer Andorian's Song to the tune of "Major-General's Song" from The Pirates of Penzance by Gilbert and Sullivan Parody by: Tosen I am the very model of an engineer Andorian, I keep the Starfleet well-maintained for fightin' and explorin' in, I know the operating specs, and quote the manuals technical, From anti-grav to warp plasma, my knowledge is respectable; Though my ideas may seem absurd, you'll find their use quite practical, From rocks to replicators, or some pulse phasers for tactical, I'll rig up a deflector dish to act as a photonic shield, (bothered for a rhyme)... Or modify a VISOR to emit a hypersonic field. I perform many matter phase transitions in a transporter; Or interface with any console using PADD or tricorder: I've knowledge of the elements, deuterium to thorium, It's all quite element'ry for an engineer Andorian. I've studied predecessors great, from Cochrane to Montgomery Scott; I've altered shield harmonics and resolved a temporal paradox, I brace inertial dampers for some gravitonic turbulence, And then avert a coolant leak without a hint of nervousness; I spot neutrino pulses from the cloaking fields of Romulans, And devise countermeasures against polaran disruptor guns! I'll modify some nanoprobes recovered from a dead Borg cube, (bothered for a rhyme) And fix an EPS relay while crawling in a Jefferies tube. Then I might write a holographic interfacing subroutine, And repair damage to the cold suit of a friendly injured Breen: Environmental protocols, Elaysian to El-Aurian, Are well within the purview of an engineer Andorian. I reverse field polarity in a most efficient manner, I've never mistaken a flux coupler for a coil spanner, Re-crystallizing dilithium is a quick and simple task, Whether in an old Miranda or a brand new Concorde-class, When I can tell you the precise use of a self-sealing stem bolt, Or which isolinear circuits require 10 millivolts – In short, I'll align warp coils and tune-up any impulse drive At least when I'm not hunting down the voles on Deep Space 515. Though I signed up for Starfleet to fulfill my urge to boldly go, I'm happy to let the captains and other branches run that show; But recall who maintains that ship, that you do your explorin' in, The gold-shirts of Magellan and an engineer Andorian.

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jesus christ

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Riker’s so on his game, he gets into position before Data even reaches his station

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I regret nothing

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Segment from: Battle of Midnight - Starfleet Academy

Commander T'Sala

By the time they were passing the ENG lecture hall, Mrs Lisa Whitley had had -enough-. "Michael Murphy Whitley you are going to get on that shuttle and come -home-. You can NOT die out here in this gawd blessed MESS!! So help me if I have to---- LOOK OUT!" There was an odd sound and a flash of light, this exploded into a din that entirely took over Whit's senses. He felt hands on his back push him foward before he ate pavement and any light at all went black for a moment. When he came too there is only a hand poking out of the rubble behind him with a ring he's known since he was in infant on her left finger.

LTJG Michael Whitley

Groaning quietly as he raises a hand to his head, Whit would blink a couple times, trying to get those damn black spots to fuck off. Somewhat righting himself, Whit would look around, blinking more as the sudden shift screws his vision over more. His eyes would narrow in on the hand and, by extension, the ring. Frozen for an instant, the engineer would suddenly jump up, running over and digging futilely at the pile of concrete and metal. "Nononono mom mom mom MOM!!!" A few minutes later, Whitley would still be there, digging with bloody hands through the seemingly insurmountable wall of rock.

Commander T'Sala

When he finally gets the last part of concrete off her, it pulls a wicked metal chunk out of her chest and balances precariously aside. Mom spazums and reaches up to him, blood pouring from her mouth and chest. "W--hit?" her eyes are fulls of tears. Around them things are abuzz as others are pulled from the rubble by the emergancy teams calling for them to move since the rest of the building was about to go.

LTJG Michael Whitley

"M-mom! C'mon, get up, we've..." He'd stop then, analyzing the wound in her chest. "Shit, puncture, wider than an inch... Through..." The man would sit there mumbling to himself, trying desperately to remember the brief amount of medical training he got. He'd try to wave over an emergency team, but they'd all be too distracted by the other casualties in the area.

Commander T'Sala

They were yelling at people to clear the area now and dust was shifting from the shaky building overhead. Lisa pulls her wedding band and engagement ring off and presses it into his hand, closing it around them before placing a hand gently on the side of his face. "L-live." she says with a stream of blood from her lips and her hand falls away... as the light fades from her eyes, forever locked on his face. Letting that be the last thing she sees before passing on.(

LTJG Michael Whitley

Whit would sit there for a long moment, shock written plainly across his face as he stares between the rings and the face of his mother. "M-mom? Mom... No... Please..." Whit would crawl forward a bit, cradling his mother's body. Uncaring of blood or dirt, the cadet would remain there, either unaware or uncaring of the evac crews in the area.

Commander T'Sala

Lisa was still pinned by the legs under something unbelievably large. Her body doesn't even move much. But the shift does loosen the piece he had somehow moved a moment ago. It starts to lean towards him. "Whit!" A voice cuts through the din and catches the shifting piece. It is one normally calm and cool, but sometimes chiding. "Whit... we -have- to move. The building is about to fall." T'Sala kneels down and grabs his face. "Whit. Stand up or her death will be in vein if you are killed too."

LTJG Michael Whitley

Blank eyes would stare back at the instructor, uncomprehending. "Professor... My mom. She needs help." The man would seem either unable to process, or flat out refusing to admit that his mother was, in fact, dead in his arms.

Commander T'Sala

T'Sala checks up as more pieces of the building start to fall, they had 90 seconds at best. Still, for his sanity she checks the pulse. "She is gone, Whit. We -need- to -more-." she urges, pulling his arm in one last warning to move on is own.

LTJG Michael Whitley

"I... But... My mom...." The man would look down at her again, checking her pulse for his own sake. "Mom..." Then the man's eyes would glaze over, and he'd slump forward, unconscious.

Commander T'Sala (Laura)

Whit feels himself caught before everything goes dark. --- Hours later --- He had overhead things in his fitful sleep of the next couple of hours. “You! Commander! You’ve coordinated defense through coms before, correct?” he said, pointing at T’Sala’s nose. “You you can handle several coms and instructions at once and keep the straight?” “Yes, Sir.” She nodded as he thrust an earpiece at her. “Go into my office and be my eyes and ears from the Acadmey to Command and Spacedock. I will tell you how to respond if necessary. I will be here coordinating the grounds and everything else. Just keep us all in contact.”

--------------------

Whitley was set down in the office on one of the benches. A little girl crawled into his lap and hugged him. "He has blood on him. He is sad...."

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<C> "This is Jupiter station they're warping in some kind of massive infrastructure.” Even from the blurry image, it had a very distinctive appearance.

“Admiral… we may have a situation.” she reported calmly. “You should see this with your own eyes.”

“Commander?” Kyle asked in such a tone that it caused her to turn, seeing every pair of eyes on either her or the screen. “Commander… please, be honest with us. Is that a planet killer?”

T’Sala paused for only a moment before just offering a single nod and a single phrase. “Most likely.”

--------------------------

What eventually woke him was not the din.... but as a dead quiet started to fall over the Acadmey and the sun started peeking up over the bay, cutting through the mist. He was indeed in an office with a little girl sleeping next to him. T'Sala moved over beside him and just... sat. As he stirred she looks over.

LTJG Michael Whitley

Letting out another low groan as he opens his eyes, shutting them immediately after because of the light, Whit would fumble his way back to consciousness. Actually opening his eyes and getting a proper look at his surroundings, Whit would fix his gaze on T'Sala. "Professor? Wha... What happened?" Whit would then freeze still as his memories start flooding back. "The call... The hallway... My mom... MY MOM!" Whit would snap his gaze back to the commander. "Professor, my mom, she... What happened?"

Commander T'Sala

"I am not a Pro--" T'Sala stops short as he powers on and catches herself being pedantic and the worst time. She turns to face him on the bench and just reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. In the silent gaze and the blood on his uniform it is apparent that he recalled everything correctly. His pockets feel odd from the wedding rings against his thigh.

LTJG Michael Whitley

Letting out something that sounded like a strangled cough, Whit would close his eyes for a long moment, hand reaching into his pocket for the rings. Running a thumb over them, Whit would remain silent for a minute or two. "My family doesn't know, do they?"

Commander T'Sala

T'Sala stands and grabs a cloth and some water for him to clean the blood off and sits back down. "No, the battle only just finished. Coms are still emergency only."

LTJG Michael Whitley

"Right, communication lockdown... Standard protocol for large scale. Non-essential systems default to low-power settings, if not full deactivation on a case by case basis." Whit would continue mumbling about standards and protocol for a moment, before looking up again. "When's the lockdown supposed to end?"

Commander T'Sala

"We lost a 10th of our fleet. It will be a long while, Whit." T'Sala answers gently.

LTJG Michael Whitley

"Right... Allocation of force and all that..." Whit would trail off, obviously searching for something, anything else to focus on.

Commander T'Sala

T'Sala is quiet for a long moment and looks around before eyes falling on his state. "We need to get you cleaned up and changed." She stands before gently ordering. "Unzip your jacket."

LTJG Michael Whitley

Complying without a word, Whit would remove his jacket, throwing it across a chair. Taking care to follow regulation, the cadet would unclip his comm-badge from his jacket, placing it on his undershirt instead.

Commander T'Sala

T'Sala gestures for him to look at the painting on the wall. "Im going to clean the cuts on your face. I'm worried about you going into shock; can you name me some of the Starfleet Oaths that we take?" she asks, starting with cleaning gauze to get the blood off of his face, which is her main concern.

LTJG Michael Whitley

Almost mechanically, Whit would start reciting off the keypoints of the Federation oath of enlistment. "To uphold the ideals and, by extension, follow the laws of the Federation. To seek out new life. To keep to the principle of non-interference. To uphold the truth, whether it be personal, scientific, or historical."

Commander T'Sala

She works quickly, remembering how blood all over her after own loss would effect her for years to come. She silently hoped she could get it off him before it was forever imprinted in his mind. She starts on his hands, trying to work around the rings and on the sly clean them as much as possible. Again, she hurries to get it all off him him. Halfway through she realizes that a good portion of the blood is his own.

"Whit. Im going to set these -right- beside you, but I need to fix your hands. Look at me. You mention the oath of truth." Her eyes meet his a moment before going back to his hands, gently moving the rings aside and working on his hands. "Me, not your hands." she chides if his eyes wander. "Starfleet Medical need help with triage. I need your help but you need to be honest with yourself. I either need you to watch Lami here, or you can work with me in the center. But the center will be bloody and be gruesome, but it is work and will keep your mind busy. Where do you think is best for you right now? Calm or in the busy but bloody?"

LTJG Michael Whitley

Summoning up some degree of his usual attitude, the cadet would flash a half-hearted grin, "C'mon, professor. I'm trying to be an engineer, yeah? Don't we work best after shit's hit the fan? I'll go wherever you need me."

Commander T'Sala

"I need you in A or B. Where will be best for you. Personal Truth." she says, finishing up with his hands.

LTJG Michael Whitley

"I'll go to the center. I'd rather be helping people than being useless..." I'd glance around, eyes settling on the passed out kid. "So uh, professor... Who's the kid?"

Commander T'Sala

"I am till not a professor, I do not have my doctorates yet." she says. "She's the child of the Tactical department head. I've been staying with them. There are a lot of misplaced children right now. Helping watch them is far from useless."

LTJG Michael Whitley

"Still. I'd rather be actively saving lives than playing glorified babysitter, if it's all the same to you, professor." The ghost of a grin would widen a bit as he says the title.

Commander T'Sala

T'Sala nods, scrutinizing him. "Very well." And with that... they make their way to starfleet medical where hours pass until sunset. Artist: HunnBunn

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LTJG Michael Whitley: "I..." The engineer would pause, evidently trying to put words together properly. "You should've heard their voices, teach. They blamed me. They never outright said it, but... They blamed me for her death." Whit would sit there for a long moment, silently, before shaking his head. An obviously faked smile would be broad across his face. "But, y'know, I'll just show up, do what I need to, and dip out, yeah?"

Lt Vance chimes in from afar "You know what happened to me the last time I did that? You learned about it in my class."

Commander T'Sala:  "Did you ask them if they blamed  you?" she asks

LTJG Michael Whitley: Turning to face Vance, Whit would nod. "I remember. But, everyone deals in their own way." Turning back towards T'Sala, Whit would shake his head. "That's part of what I'm going to do while I'm there."

T'Sala lets out a little sigh from her nose. "You are not mistaken, everyone does. I am sorry that is what reached your ears, whether that was their intent or not does not change the pain of the mark it left."

LTJG Michael Whitley: Shaking his head, Whit would flash the faked grin again, "It is what it is, professor. I'll live."

Commander T'Sala:. "You you live. Life does indeed continue despite the pain. But I want you to look at me a moment Whit." she says shifting her eyes to catch his again. "Do you blame yourself?”

LTJG Michael Whitley: "I... If I hadn't been there, she wouldn't have. On the flip side, if she had just accepted my choices, she wouldn't have. So... I don't know how to feel, professor."

T'Sala nods and takes a breath. "I went through the same with my first husband. I will not deny a touch of petulance in my motivation but I wanted to be as free as possible from my Father's influence. Which is a story of its own. But we took the test in secret and applied to SFA. Salak wouldn't have if I did not. Then he was killed in combat. I also held him as he left.

I will tell you from intimate experience that you will never know the answer to "what if" and that it is most destructive when you direct it at the past. Instead, try and direct it at the future when you can. "What if I can prevent the next war to help this not happen again." Grief will never get easier. Do not let any 'bull shit' you other wise. You do get better at dealing with it. At looking it in the face and accepting its presence. I am still trying myself after seven years. I am Vulcan and there are still periods where I break down and cry.

Vulcans see grief as inevitable. But it can also be the most dangerous if not controlled. Because grief can turn into despair which is a harder and more destructive to the mind than even rage. We wear grieving markers much like the Romulans although it is our clothing, because it is that important to be given time and space to grieve in our own way BUT to have someone keep an eye on us because of how it can twist the mind. I am proud of you for facing this. You are doing it sooner than I was able to." She gives him a gentle look.

LTJG Michael Whitley: Sitting in silence as the commander speaks, Whit would let a small smile cross his features. "I'm just so sick of running from this, y'know? My own family, for fucks sake... As far as dealing with the grief its self? It's not alright. I'm not alright, and I'll be the first to admit it. But... I make it alright. It's alright because it has to be, yeah? I'll deal with it... When I get around to it. And that's all there is to it," He'd pause, his usual mischievous grin crossing his features, "professor."

Commander T'Sala: “It is your family and you should go back. You -are- done running and that is where you should focus now. Let this be a personal milestone. And I am agreeable to throw you out if I must next week. Perhaps even with a shuttle so you do not need to walk. Humor aside you are dealing. Everyone goes at their own pace. I have found some comfort as of late asking others how they deal because I've been on the edge of despair for so long...”

“Sometimes.." she pauses to make herself say it. "... I -do- fall into despair. I am not always alright either. Some days the amount of strength to get out of bed is like lifting a planet. But we do it and get through it. And that is something I find people do not cheer each other on for enough. It is also something people who haven't been through it will never understand. For me, helping others through it has been healing in its own way. Which is why Juvi -needs- you. No one else will get it like you do. And maybe you will help yourself along the way."

LTJG Michael Whitley: "Well..." The man would sit there in silence for a long moment, once more at a loss for words. "Fuck. That was... Pretty solid, teach. Thanks. I uh... I'll make sure I take that leave next week."

Commander T'Sala: “Good man." T'Sala nods firmly and stands, poking his shoulder. "And I am not a Professor. Im not allowed to be called that without a doctorates." LTJG Michael Whitley: "Professor, I mean this with all sincerity. Fuck the paperwork. Between experience and actions, you've more than earned the title. The paperwork just hasn't caught up yet because you keep getting shafted with bullshit. So... Yeah. Professor." The man would smirk, but a grin would flicker around the edge of it.

Commander T'Sala: For a rare moment in her life the Vulcan resists the perhaps downright genetic urge to argue. "Very well. Just not in front of the Admirals or Professor VonGrippen." She shakes her head. "What am I going to do with you, Whit? Besides put my boot on your bottom or hand on your back or just believe in you when you need it." She perks a brow.

LTJG Michael Whitley: "I mean...  Might as well let me do what I'm good at. Throw my ass in an engine room and walk away, and pull full plausible deniability when shit goes sideways?" The grin would remain in full force, mischievous as ever. Art By: HunnBunn

[outpostzeta]

Anonymous said: Cardassians: Aamin Marritza or Gul Macet

“Duet” was one of DS9′s strongest earlier episodes. Well worth watching if you haven’t seen it