Posted by Lieutenant Commander Akirel Ros (Consultant Researcher) in Ros’ Quarters - Settling in
The door slid shut behind him, the barest hiss of a well maintained piece of equipment announcing the joining of the metal settling into the slides that served to block his quarters off from the corridor outside. Five walls. Three of metal, one of transparent aluminum and one of the mind. Slowly the lights rose revealing the barely furnished room that was to be his. A small pile of bags inside the door showing the crew assigned to unload the cargo of various ships had done their jobs quickly and efficiently.

That was to be expected, as was the reception they had received on board this particular ship. The Viking this ship was not, though the crew he had met so far certainly could have inhabited the decks of the Viking while he had been there, there was a certain ingredient missing from the walls of this ship. No, he checked himself. Not missing, different. This ship tasted different, to use an unusual term. The people here subtly different in ways that fate, destiny or luck, whichever one may believe twisted the futures of all of those who walked, played out.

Ros smiled, breathing in and taking in the smell of the freshly cleaned, sterile room around him. It was quiet, almost enough for him to hear his own heartbeat. With a smooth walk Ros moved, placing the box he carried on the dining table and moving past that to the bathroom, the hiss of that door barely breaking the quiet. Leaning over the sink, the lights came up in here as well, and then dimmed straight away. Ros took no notice, he leaned over the sink and let the water run into his hands, washing his face with the cold liquid and letting the drips splash back into the sink. In the mirror in front of him the room behind was out of focus, an effect of the lighting being low and as Ros stood, he could have sworn he saw himself still stooped over the sink in his reflection. He didn’t bother to do a double take though, not anymore.

Walking back into the living room a undid his jacket and let it lay over the back of a chair, undoing his shirt as he walked, letting it fall open to bare his chest. A chest that sported a large scar over his right shoulder that looked for all the world like a three clawed beast had gripped his shoulder, burning it’s image into him. He removed his shirt and a casual observer would notice a single ‘claw’ scar on his back on that side, like a thumb. The inside of his right bicep sported a tattooed 31, no longer hidden as Kara had once discovered. Kara.

Ros perched himself on the edge of the sofa and held up the dermal regenerator in front of him. Spinning it in his fingers once while he felt the burn inside of him, felt the fire consuming him slowly. He smiled, closed his eyes and let himself fall into it. Like another world, the fire was security, safety, knowledge and understanding. Death.

Kara was alive. That news shocked him, for the first time in a long time, he had been surprised. How had that news escaped him? The dermal regenerator spun in his fingers once more, and he moved off the sofa and to one of his bags. Taking out a simple shirt, he slid it over his head, covering the marks on his arm and body, the regenerator sliding into the bag as he zipped it back up. The warmth of the feeling of excitement, apprehension, flared within him. He had no idea what Kara’s reaction was going to be to seeing him again, and neither had he any idea what his would be in the moment. It was a moment that was about to happen though, there was no way he was going to delay this moment. Through pain, sorrow and woe he had lost her, thought her gone and dead in a place he could not reach. That smile played about his lips again, but the frown above his eyes told a different story that no one would be able to read. His eyes moved to the box, the light in the room for an instant making it seem that an outline of a person, his outline maybe, stood next to it.

Ros stood, walked and picked up the box once more, this time turning and moving into the bedroom, placing it inside the wardrobe and letting the door slide shut blocking it from view. That was for later. For now, Ros had someone to meet. Had a future to discover one way or another. The fingers of his left hand balled up and he rubbed them together, taking in a deep breath and letting it out before he stood and moved to the door where others waiting to show him to where Kara was due to be.

It was time, the heat in his eyes flaring for an instant before he opened the door, his hand relaxed. It was time.

Lt Cmdr Akirel Ros

As had been predicted by the Counselor, Kara Nakuto was presently in the holodeck. Training. The program was a bespoke one, as it had always been. But over the years, the changing of the landscape, the modification of the opposing foes, had woven a tale of the consciousness of this half-Klingon; from those early, innocent days amongst the forests of Carraya IV and a vicious onslaught against her Romulan captors, through the Dominion War and her matching of the ferocity of the Cardassians. And now, to a wholly different vista - a ring. The sand-covered floor of the platform course under her feet, occasional splotches of dark-red marking the sites of former battles. Around her on all sides, settled on tiered, timber seating, were a host of familiar faces - Majandra Guerin, Ta’lahali Beveres, Mike Stone, Reira Akaba. And there, in his now-customary seat on the front row - Akirel Ros.

In the beginning, the cheers and hollers from the crowd were glorious, Kara standing silently on the edge and allowing herself to take it all in. From each one she drew courage, drew sustenance from the calling of her name, from the encouraging of her victory. But from his she drew so much more. Acceptance. Belonging. Understanding. Until his was the only voice that remained. The only voice that mattered. She craved it, like she craved bloodwine. Could not bear, in that moment, to face the reality that it was only a digital recreation. Not real.

But then suddenly it came - the deep, primal singing of a gong. And almost immediately the voices were dissipated, friendly faces disintegrating into darkness so that she doubted their remaining existence at her side. Only his was still visible, those deep green eyes like absinthe, following each breath as she made her way, cautiously and uncertain, into the centre of the pit.
She was dressed in a black vest and shorts, muscular limbs bare and taut, tiny hairs bristling visibly on a current of nauseating anxiety. Assuming her warrior stance, Nakuto closed her eyes, not ready yet to witness their approach, not able to look them head on as they came upon her.

And come they did. Singular, at first, then multiplying quickly until the pit was a frantic whirl of nightmarish limbs and cold, writhing darkness. A mass of frenzied, malevolent shadows. And now and then a glimmer, as the weak lighting caught the edge of a bat’leth. Before the darkness consumed it once again and the entire world turned black.

• Kara Nakuto (Consultant Researcher)