Posted May 24, 2022, 10:59 a.m. by Lieutenant Commander T’Aria (XO / Navigation Officer) (Trin S)
Posted by Lieutenant Symar (Chief Medical Officer) in Putting on a Logical Top Hat (Tag XO)
Posted by Lieutenant Commander T’Aria (XO / Navigation Officer) in Putting on a Logical Top Hat (Tag XO)
(Snip!)
Slamming the Romulan against an enfeebled wall shook the room, showering any unlucky passersby with jagged debris. T’Aria flinched and yanked herself from the wall. Though she silenced a groan with gritted teeth, she could not muffle the sound of her body thudding against a bookshelf. She didn’t wait to see if they heard.
“You are not safe,” she hurried back to the boy, “it would be advisable for you to leave… immediately.”
T’Aria knew the limits of her reach in this world where she was but a passive observer. Her influence here was neither heard nor heeded, though it was her instinct to protect the boy. She did not attach herself to the warning, only the knowledge that the memory would proceed as it was intended… and that terrified her.
— T’Aria
“Interesting,” the boy representing Symar’s past responded with an arched eyebrow and a grin, “This could be fun.” Without warning, the boy vanished and the room around T’Aria seemed to flash out of existence for a moment. When it recentered itself, the room had become the Sickbay on board a Klingon cruiser.
-Symar-
T’Aria reached out, but the boy vanished before she had the chance to ask what he meant, and she stumbled forward. Her foot impeded her fall, landing not on ancient stone but the worn and hard floors of a starship. Ethanol and dried blood (smelling neither of rust nor copper) assailed her senses. It drew her gaze around a dimly-lit and murky room that, if not for beds and dated equipment, she might have mistaken as something other than a medical bay. But whose?
Curiously, T’Aria searched for a vitals panel or some kind of display with writing. Symar shared a memory with a Klingon and Romulan as major antagonists. If she could—there! Her gaze met a small panel not a meter from her. Approaching, she took note of the language adorning the screen. It read horizontally and lacked the stock-bound whisps and spirals of her native tongue. Too, the symbols were curved and ended in sharp edges that defied the bulbous, wave-like behaviour of the Romulan forms she knew, which meant it was…
“Klingon,” T’Aria whispered and whipped around to fully assess the room. Where was the boy?
— T’Aria
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