STF

Holodeck - Nakuto Looks for a Friendly Face

Posted Dec. 11, 2018, 3:36 p.m. by Lieutenant Ta’lahali Akera Beveres (Counsellor) (Trin S)

Posted by Lieutenant Ta’lahali Akera Beveres (Counsellor) in Holodeck - Nakuto Looks for a Friendly Face

Posted by Civilian Kara Nakuto (Civilian, Former CO) in Holodeck - Nakuto Looks for a Friendly Face

Posted by Lieutenant Ta’lahali Akera Beveres (Counsellor) in Holodeck - Nakuto Looks for a Friendly Face
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Snip
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻

Chuckling, glancing up as if cursing the Viking for being so apt to proving the Captain’s point, she shook her head. “It seems the ship would have to agree with your insult of terms,” Tal wore a grin that met her dark eyes, turning them into a smile, themselves.

“The Holodecks? Oh.. Just as defective and sentient as they always have been.” For a second, there was a pause in her voice. “Although, I’m sure there are a few suggestions I could offer you.”

A small smirk warped her smile, “For old time’s sake,” She hummed, regarding the memory of the time they had spent together, all that time before.

Tal
The Reminiscent

Kara rose to her feet, draining the final drops of her raktajino as she did so.
“Then, my dearest friend, let us throw our customary caution to the wind and take a chance with the holodeck,” she proposed with an eager grin. “The programme can be any of your choosing, training or recreational, wherever your desire leads. And I…I will be honoured to share in the adventures of Ta’lahali Akera Beveres,” she concluded with a wink.

“Oh, I do believe there is something that could be of usefulness to both of us.” She smiled, grinning at the woman’s ability to pronounce her name in all of its exotic peculiarities. It often amused her, how many people found it increasingly difficult to ever bother speaking her name. A curse bestowed upon her by parents who wanted nothing more than to hold tradition. With a smile, she was almost grateful Kara did not share such a complex structure of name. “Shall we, Kara?”

In truth it was exactly the kind of distraction that the former captain needed. Released from the demands of duty and responsibilities of leadership, it presented an exceedingly rare opportunity for Nakuto to step outside of her increasingly bleak existence and remember how it felt to enjoy life, to value the simple, life-affirming act of breathing in and out. Deep in her gut there was a small kernel of guilt at taking so much time from one so busy and essential as the ship’s Head Counselor, but silencing the notion, for the most part, was the suspicion that Tal could benefit from the distraction as much as she.

Kara Nakuto

As a woman ever so focused upon the psyche, Tal wondered just how long it had been, since Kara had truly relaxed. She pondered dates and frames of time, but not even she could come to any accurate conclusion. The Viking was not the ship one would join, if they were searching for simplicity and the ability to rest with every passing day. Alas, people who believed it were, happened to be quickly rid of, after they realize the truth of this ‘haunted’ vessel.

Kara was very rarely wrong when it came to Tal, and this was no different. A counselor learned to silence their own needs, in favor of the others. It was one of the few traits they shared with Captains and XOs alike. Of course, all three shared the damnation of such qualities, often times coming to a point where they required their own guidance (or counsel) just as equally as their officers (or comrades) did.

Tal’s day never stopped, so it made minimal difference whether she was with Kara or locked up in that prison of an office. Heading from the mess hall, once the remnants of food and their carriers were taken care off, she made her way down the hall, heading directly for the holodeck. In all the time it took them to arrive, Tal spoke very few words. It was a trait she possessed, her silence. One that happened to be useful and happened to be damning.

Standing before the deck, she typed in a command, pausing for a second, before completing it. Silently, she motioned for Kara to step inside and see what would behold them both.

Tal
CNS

The shared silence as they walked towards the holodeck brought a great deal of comfort to the tormented half-Klingon. So often did people feel the need to fill a rare moment of peace with idle chatter. Nakuto herself was no different in that respect, her Klingon nature seeing every natural pause as an opportunity to boast of shared victories and to toast great battles won. But her Japanese father had strived to impress upon her the infinite value of silence, of the power that rode on the crest of a calm mind and tranquil soul.
“To plan a battle, one must first be able to visualise its arena without any distractions” he was oft found to impart, wise words dispersed to the hearts of both Kara and her sister. He had long tutored them in the act of Vulcan meditation and the ability to create stillness in the most turbulent of seas.

Ta’lahali Beveres shared many qualities with Isaake Nakuto. She was possessed of the same aura of measured and collected calm, the same gift for noble, poetic words, as stirring as they were profound. Little surprise, then, that Kara found herself drawn so strongly to the petite African.

Arriving at the holodeck, Nakuto paused at the threshold and allowed Tal to enter first and key in her chosen program, before following eagerly and, with brown eyes sparkling like a child about to unwrap a precious gift, she watched as the stark gridlines began to dissipate and melt into another vista entirely…

Kara Nakuto

Before them, a world so different from their own unfolded. Cold, emotionless halls flooded into the vibrant blues of a sky whose tears were very seldom seen falling from bleary, azure eyes. Inanimate object utilized for a purpose programmed by a computer, were replaced by the lively stems of blooming flowers beneath a sun that encouraged their hardly idle growth. The sun, while hardly visible to them, filtered through the treetops, meeting the ground in the speckled delicacy of a far-off majesty. The air, while humid, was filled with warmth, something quite different to the Viking. Mountains, rolling in the hazy grey of drooping fog, misted the far edges of the horizon, where they stood as silent monarchs, awaiting their kingdom to fall into place.

They cast a shadow over the land beneath them, but it was one so faint the Sun was easily capable of compensating with the fiery breath of its strong, passionate lungs. Thus, dancing before them, a world of endless beauty, from the deepest shades of thin strands of emerald vines swaying in the wind, to the faintest yellows of delicate flowers whose face never turned from the sun it so greatly needed. Every creature, every plant, competing for the sunlight that rested far above their heads, where the canopy met the sky. Yet even in its competition, there was peace. From where they stood, they were surrounded, on all sides, by those eloquent monarchs, each dressed in the regal fabrics of wide based, flourishing trees. It was an ethereal land, the soil beneath them only adding to its feeling by its spongey albeit firm touch.

All around them, life was blooming, a sweet antithesis to the sterilized environment they had just come from. Instead of the scent of antibacterials and other cleaning devices, one could smell the fresh scent of newly bloomed flowers, mixed with the earthy musk of the drumstick tree, whose thin, broad leaves reached out to tickle them. The sonorous hum of the ship had been replaced by the wild calls of a world untouched by man. Predators’ growls, so deep, went unheard. But the vibrant calls of exotic birds, shouting obscenities -or perhaps even pleasantries- at each other, created the perfect cacophony of noise. Here, in this sacred land, the rainforest met the Zebras, and the volcano met the girrafes. In this world, hidden away from all that was known to the people of this country, someone could be truly free. Even if, it were nothing more than a simulation.

Kara’s eyes darted hungrily from sky to stems, from soil to sun, the luminous sphere masking its core of violent, particle interactions with an opulent exterior, alive and dancing with flame. Impossible to recall when last she had felt such cherished heat against her cheek, or allowed her exhausted body to relax in the cocoon of isotropic warmth. Around her the landscape stretched out vividly in its myriad, richly-painted colours, each tone and hue serving up a feast for her starving eyes. So easy to forget, in such a place, the cold, unforgiving grey of the Viking. So easy not to be reminded of the freezing blackness of the void. This was heaven, drawn out and coded into so much more than a mere program, as if by a wave of her hand, the magnificent Ta’lahali Beveres had transported them both, in body as well as in mind, to the very heart of Sto-vo-kor itself! Enraptured repeatedly by every new feature and facet that her eyes fell upon in turn, Kara Nakuto could only stare, open-mouthed, at the mirage before her.

“Welcome to Mnt. Suswa ,” Tal informed, kneeling down beside one of the many plants. She reached out, cupping her fingers around the base of a flower, whose spotted petals offered an exotic twist to the remainder of the land. Plucking it from the vine it hung from, whose base nearly graced the ground, she stepped back. Turning to Kara, she offered a smile. “May I?” She inquired, gesturing to place the flower behind her ear. “It isn’t toxic, I swear.”

The spell this intoxicating landscape had woven around her was momentarily broken, her awareness returning to the presence of her dearest friend. With a glance at the fragile flower cupped between equally delicate fingers, Kara’s own demeanour melted into a roar of pure, unrestricted laughter.
“Indeed you may, if you so desire,” she replied, grinning. “Although I daresay such ornamental fancies will cast me less as a nature-embracing woman and more as an overstuffed targ served up for supper!”

“Or perhaps it will simply be a delicate addition to a rather powerful woman,” A soft chuckle escaped her lips, a sweetness comparable to the nectar welling inside the plants so fragile as the one held up by the trained grace of her fingertips. Although, it gave no comparison, truly, if one tasted the sunsweet berries of this rich terra. Growing slightly upon her toes, she brushed away any loose strands of hair, sliding the stem behind Kara’s ear. Her movements were leisure, without any intention of rush. This was a time of peace, a time of serenity, speed was of no vitality in a world like this.

“This is the land of my ancestors. Yes, this version of it is programmed, but it is rather close to the volcano we hold sacred. At least, to the people I come from.” Tal took in a deep breath, “You can almost smell the diversity of this place.. The scent of the nectar of those flowers, the musk of the oncoming rains, the ashen smell of a dormant volcano.. Things grow as if enhanced by mother nature, herself. The soil here is perhaps some of the most fertile you will find, as it gains many of its nutrients from the Volcano.”

The half-Klingon drank deeply of the scents all around her, for the first time gaining awareness of the pulsating rivers of lava concealed beneath the delicate surface. Such power, such life-affirming intensity, it spoke of nature at her most violent and chaotic, yet controlled and formated all the same. Like an army of Klingon warriors, every breath of their existence marked with the passion and focus for training, a lifetime to lead them to this one defining moment when, like the pyroclastic eruption of the mountain, they would finally be unleashed. And in that moment, Kara Nakuto drew strength from the mountain, as if the molten rocks surged through and filled her very veins.

Mountains whose veins stretched far below the surface, forging the endless chambers of luscious crystals, whose dazzling faces refracted light in ways hyponotizing to the eye. Their very precense was one of immense power and authority. They stood, the rightful leaders of this serendipitous land, where the flowers, speckled in gold or dusted in azure, seemed to sing as heavenly a song as their protectors, the trees. Etheral.. Eloquent. A myriad of words could attempt to describe a place so precious, which many found to be forged in the imaginations of young school children. However, its true description was left to those who ventured beyond their comfortzone to truly see it. To feel it in its authenticity, rather in the holographic imaging of museums, or even the replication of this Holodeck.

“But enough about the science. Really, all that matters today, is the beauty of this rainforest.” She hummed, “Not many people have ever actually been. And while this isn’t authentic, you seem the person I could show to, and someone who might appreciate its grace.”

Ta’lahali
The Kenyan

Bump! Take your time, Sharon. :)
Trin

OOC: Thankyou so much for being patient :)

IC: Truly this was an honour beyond description, to be permitted a glimpse of so personal a sanctuary. Kara’s brown eyes filled with tears as she gazed at her friend and whispered the words, “Thank you.”

Tal brushed her hand against her bicep, a gesture of friendliness to her. “Of course, Kara. Not many people, these days, have the heart to see something as precious as this and appreciate its beauty. You are one of the people who can, and that is a gift uniquely special to you.”

Around her, the trees sang softly in the warm breeze, the dance of their foliage casting kalidoscopic patterns at their feet. So similar to another place…a place Kara had been sworn to keep secret to the end of her days. For the ancient majesty of that forest had seen buried beneath its soil the greatest shame of her people. But now she felt almost compelled to speak of it, to reach into the earth with desperate fingers and reveal the true origin of her family into the trusted confidence of her friend.

“I was born in a place very similar to this one,” she ventured, moving slowly towards a large tree, almost completely swallowed by vines, and placing her palm against it for connection and strength. “Were I to name the precise location then I doubt that it would be familiar to you, for my people strove to erase knowledge of it from the annals of history. It was a beautiful, tranquil location, just like the one you offer to me here. But it was also the stage for the most shameful and cowardly chapter in the story of my people.”

“Carraya IV,” she continued, pausing at the naming of her true homeworld to welcome any recollection, no matter how brief, from the Kenyan. “A small, insignificant planet on the border of Romulan space. And home, deep within the lush forests and gently sloping mountains, to an internment camp. A prison where my people submitted to defeat and captivity at the hands of their enemy - the Romulans.”

Kara Nakuto

“Carraya IV..” The word rolled from her tongue, a sense of deep contemplation coming across her features. Although, Tal could not say she had heard of the planet. She was far more a woman of the mind than a woman of cartography. Although, if the place held a beauty comparable to the Suswa mountain, she held no doubt it was a truly gorgeous planet. And to think, and entire body painted with luscious forests such as these, that was a dream many never found to come true. And yet, that dream held the unfortunate truth of henious atrocities committed against a people who did not so much as deserve most of it.. Any of it.

“A place so gorgeous, and yet harbouring a nasty truth. How unfortunate for you and for then people who found any sense of home in those atrocious camps. Your people never deserved what came of you, with those camps. You were but an infant, with no impact on the tensions of war. Immune and innocent, yet still convicted like the others. Truly, inexplicably unfair.” Tal managed a shake of her head, at a loss for what to say to the information offered to her. “In all optimism, you were lucky to have been born in a place so dazzling and pacific.”

“Unfair?” Kara repeated with a shrug. “Perhaps so, at first. Countless noble warriors were heralded up to Sto-vo-kor at the massacre at Khitomer. For those who survived came the crushing shame that they too had not found a glorious end. But such a weight did not excuse their cowardly submission towards their enemy. My people,” she continued, unable to meet the eyes of her friend and instead choosing to focus on the velvet-green leaves between her fingers, “may have been mere victims at first. But as the years passed they made a choice, to refuse a retaliation, to dismiss the honour that would be served with a successful rebellion. They chose to stay, as captives, as lapdogs to their Romulan overlords. They prized comfort and the false mirage of peace over the glory of victory!”

“What is truly unfair,” Nakuto stated definitively, “was how this single and ongoing act of cowardice was allowed to tarnish the hard-won reputation of my people!”

A deep sigh was released from deep within her chest, the resignation towards a history that would never be forgotten. For while the Klingon Empire had been successful in hiding the secrets of Carraya IV from the world at large, for their own people they dared not to forget the lesson it taught. Death would always be far favourable to surrender.

“There is no doubt to the striking difference between my people and yours. The will to die before being captured and forced to surrender to a power hardly our own, however, remains the one constant between both of our cultures.” She paused, considering the frivolous land before her. It was untouched, unharmed by the poison of the human race and all who have sought to destroy the land in effort to satisfy their nagging greed. “Honour, it is such a tentative subject, widely varying between cultures. To some, it is a staggering beast, or a valiant soldier. To others, it is nothing more than the commonplace scribe, a gentle albeit conspicuous soul.”

“Although, honour is perhaps best received by the Klingon people. Your tumultuous emotions paired with the ferociousness of your strength, creating a sense of honour, a sense of pride within your person and those who are all around you. It is a truly admirable trait amongst the Klingon people, a wonderous idiosyncrasy which dares to set you apart from any other race of warriors. Although, with the vitality of this honour and how it is held within your society, I cannot imagine what pain, what anger must come of her reluctance to seek out their own honour and retaliate against the forces holding them captive in the hands of their grueling captors.”

Reaching to intertwine her finger with one of the many spewing vines that threatened to overflow from the branches of that majestic tree, she smiled at Kara. “This place.. Many people outside of the tribe have dreamed of finding it. They have set bounty on the materials and resources to be forged from this land. Yet all who try, very seldom make it as far as to make use of their desires.” Her thumb brushed against the rippled skin of the vine. “It is one of the few places on the earth, untouched by mankind and its greedy hands. One of the last few truly wild places. Here, creatures many have never seen beyond holographic projections of them, can thrive as if it were still a time where humans were no threat to them.”

“A true paradise, then,” Kara commented, “in every way.”

It had always represented a great and tangled riddle to Kara, how sentient humanoids had grasped the mantle of de facto leaders of the universe, while at the same time often showing scant consideration for those they considered lesser beings. As a warrior, she knew and respected the exhaulted honours of battle, but only when the fight was equal on both sides of the scale. There was no glory to be found in besting an opponent weaker or less prepared than oneself. And yet time and again, the shared history of the four quadrants told of mans domination over all other creatures, no matter how small.

“I sometimes wonder if this universe might find a more perfect harmony were humanoids removed from the equation entirely,” she laughed. “Where beasts of the land and the sea and the air fight only for survival, we seem unique in our adherence to violence for pleasure alone. There is no doubt that our technological advancements have revolutionised existence in every way. And yet, in the core of our being, we remain little more than animals.”

“A world where the wild remains prowling throughout the lands, untouched by the disease of the humanoid hand. It would be a place of truly ethereal nature, where animals could coincide with their lesser and greater parts, working together in collaboration and in endless competition to maintain the endless statsis of this world. It would be fascinating, just to see what this world, and many others would have become, if humanoids were hardly as effective in their destruction as they have been.”

“Although, you are absolutely correct. Deep within the soul and the psyche of every humanoid, is the will to survive, the desire that floods our veins, that savagery and barbarism which keeps us endlessly connected to our animalistic roots.. our necessity to climb the food chain in the continuous pursuit of life, liberty and the irrevocable right of happiness. Violence, peace, cruelty, it all has no matter of pertinence to them, unless it means they will survive. I find it undeniably fascinating, the way in which humanoids are drawn to violence over peace. A congressman would better raise his fist against adversity than his heart, and that seems to be, in many cases, the bane of our existence. And in many others, the beauty of it.”

A soft sigh. “I haven’t been home in many years, perhaps more than I would care to admit.” A low chuckle came of words expressing a certain hurt about the truth of her situations. “I suppose one can only hope that something so beautiful as this, can remain that way. Surely eight years cannot change too much..” But even she found that hard to believe.

Her parents, her family, they remained with her people in the United Nations ot Africa, untouched by much of western influence. Many of her relatives still lived in towns at the base of Mount Suswa, embracing the culture of her people, allowing for it to thrive and endlessly survive. She hoped they remained there, giving continuous life to that captivating land. She hoped, somewhere in those jungles, her dear friend was raising his family with Melli’ara, her very own cousin, whom he had fallen head-over-heels for. She scarcely receivers his comms, but they had become rarer by the day. Hope, as naive as it might be, remained in her mind, that all of them were happy and healthy.

Lt. Beveres
CNS

Unmistakeable, the pang of longing that danced fleetingly across the face of Ta’lahali Beveres. It was clear that the young woman had not been home for many years. And that she missed her family and her people intensely. Kara smiled and, reaching out, gently took hold of the other’s shoulder.

A hand, a sense of reality. It grasped her from the melancholy thoughts which plagued her mind, returning her to the depression she had become accustomed to, over years of succumbing to the darkness of her thoughts. It was a hidden battle between the heart of her body and its enemy, her mind. Yet this touch, however simple, however vague, it managed to snap her from that state of mind, tugging her back to the truth of her situation. Standing beside a friend; a woman whose significance in her life grew with each passing moment. Without Kara, she knew she would not have been able to survive much of her first year on the Viking. In her gaze, there was an air of gratitude, an amber wave that tainted her mahogany gaze.

“It is a true dichotomy, is it not,” she laughed, ” how we lust for adventure and exploration while never entirely losing our desire to return home. With a limitless universe stretching out in every direction and the means to traverse it at our very fingertips, still we feel primally connected to that one, singular location that witnessed the moment of our birth.”

“We spend our lives seeking out adventure, constantly searching for ways to demand more from ourselves and from our surroundings. And yet, as you said, we have all of this at our fingertips.. all of this information, all of this knowledge, this opportunity. But how common is it we throw it all away? How common is it we truly take advantage of our opportunities? Although, I suppose your correct, that connection to your birthplace is undeniably the most significant.”

But Kara understood, perhaps more deeply than Tal would ever know. For how else could one explain the contradiction of hating everything that a place represented and yet still dreaming endlessly of returning to its familiar embrace.

“How long has it been since you saw your home, Tal?” she enquired, softly.

Kara Nakuto

“Over five years.”

Tal

OOC: this is really quickly typed!! Sorry for poor grammar and mistakes.


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