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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 13, 2016 15:08:12 GMT -5
"Maybe your consciousness went to a completely different level of existence." Tolar takes a tentative spoonful of the chili, blowing on it to cool it off before eating it. "That sounds like that question K'Rika's people asked us on the Sentinel's last diplomatic assignment. They sent over an envoy from their religious caste, a woman in ornate robes, and her bodyguard. They had horns, too, and they asked everyone if they 'believed'. The Cadet interning in my department almost caused a diplomatic incident." He chuckles at the memory. "Wherever you were, it sounds like her people have a unique connection to it."
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 13, 2016 14:45:08 GMT -5
Tolar takes a deep breath, exhaling as he sits down at the table. The anger gradually fades from his face, replaced with a look of attentive concern.
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 12, 2016 18:15:56 GMT -5
That got him to turn around. That diplomatic restraint was no longer present. "You're not recovering, you're placating. Maybe if you could get out of that Vulcan mindset and actually start to feel something, you'd understand that."
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 12, 2016 17:43:02 GMT -5
A moment passes between the two of them, Tolar's scowl deepening. Tiberius can tell there's an intense fury behind his eyes, restrained by his upbringing as a diplomat's son. He takes a deep breath, exhaling before he starts. "You're right, Tiberius. We don't share a frame of reference because I haven't been dead before. I can't even imagine what that's like, probably even more undeserved trauma karma decided to throw your way. But I'm here. Here to support you, here to comfort you, even if I can't understand. At least you would have someone to rant to who listens and tries their best. I'm here because I worry for you, because I care, and because I want to support you. I was hoping you would respect that enough, trust me enough to offer something more tangible than, 'I'm fine, stop asking,' but clearly you haven't actually taken anything away from what I've been saying. So, fine. I'm here, I'll do my job, but as far as this goes?" He gestures to the scene Tiberius has set. "We're done here." He rises from the table, pivots, and starts for the door.
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 12, 2016 16:41:42 GMT -5
Remember the episode where they taped a paper cone cup to a shih tzu's head and called it an alien mammal?
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 12, 2016 16:25:40 GMT -5
"Then talk to me. Don't amp up the sex appeal, sweet talk, and try to seduce me to make the problem go away." He doesn't budge. "Brushing me off when you admit there's a problem is what started this in the first place. You know everything about me. Literally everything. Everything I've ever thought, seen, felt, touched, smelled, and tasted. Fundamentally, you know me. I opened up to you in the most intimate way possible. You don't get to close yourself off just because you're stubborn and don't know how to process it. I'm here to help you, so let me. That would be far more meaningful than... whatever this is supposed to be." He gestures between Tiberius and the table, then sits down. "If you really want to make this a productive night, then put some clothes on. Then we can chat over dinner." He folds his arms expectantly.
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 9, 2016 19:29:42 GMT -5
Tolar remains standing next to the chair, his face practically stone. "You really don't expect this to fix that, do you?" He gestures to the table.
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 8, 2016 20:09:06 GMT -5
While Hamilton didn't receive a verbal response, she would hear the holodeck door open a few moments later. Tolar stepped inside, wearing a thoroughly scuffed pair of jeans, a tank top, and a pair of red sneakers. "I was already heading down here when you called. I didn't realize someone else had already reserved the time."
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 8, 2016 20:04:27 GMT -5
Tolar doesn't break eye contact, though he does wear a distinctly unimpressed scowl on his face. After a moment of intense stare-down, he crosses the threshold of the doorway, stepping inside the captain's quarters. "Enjoying the breeze?" He asks as he passes by. "You're lucky no one else was in the corridor. I may have had to arrest you for indecent exposure."
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Dec 5, 2016 22:34:55 GMT -5
At 1930 hours, Tiberius' door chime would ring. Tolar stood in front of the door, rigid and blank-faced, dressed in full uniform.
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Nov 18, 2016 19:07:39 GMT -5
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Oct 31, 2016 11:51:11 GMT -5
He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he'd read Tiberius' message. An hour, maybe two? Drafting a response was proving far more difficult than he'd expected. So many lines written, then deleted. He furrowed his brow in frustration, unsure of what to say. In that moment of frustration, a thought occured to him. Perhaps Tiberius isn't the only person he should respond to about this. Taking another PADD from the nightstand, he looked up the Protector's active crew roster and begins drafting a request for transfer to Captain Dalun on the other. There were a lot of promising candidates on the pending requests. He started to feel selfish for even considering the idea, but he knew he wasn't going to be satisfied unless he could personally make sure Tiberius was safe. Helmsman, taken. Chief of Security, taken. Tactical, taken. He wasn't exactly qualified to hold any other position, and he outranked the candidates on file. Still, he was hesitant to step on any toes. After all, this wasn't exactly a professionally motivated career choice. His feelings shouldn't get in the way of someone else earning valuable field experience. One position stuck out for its lack of applicants: Executive Officer. A myriad of thoughts entered Tolar's head. Was he qualified to hold a position like that? Well, he had to take the Bridge Officer's test before he could even apply for his department head position here on the Sentinel, and he did acquit himself well on the Bridge recently during that non-corporeal fugitive incident. Cardassians traditionally prefer to be leaders instead of followers, and he has plenty of experience managing staff with his current position, so perhaps it would be a natural fit for him. Still, that's assuming the request is granted. Both Captain Dalun and Tiberius would have to sign off on this, as well as the 22nd's chief of staff. At least two people involved would be aware that him being transferred to the Protector in a command position would appear to be a conflict of interest. This whole request is a conflict of interest, so why is that stopping you, Demor?With that, his doubts seemed to vanish. This whole idea was a gamble, but perhaps it would pay off. With newfound drive, he finished his response and sent it. Protector. Fitting. It's the Executive Officer's job to protect the Captain from needless danger. He would acclimate to that position very quickly. _____________________________________________________________________ To: Captain Joyaus Dalun, U.S.S. Sentinel NCC-99014 Bcc: Lieutenant Commander Tiberius Asada, U.S.S. Protector NCC-95312 Subject: Transfer Request Stardate: 97833.31
Captain Dalun,
Serving aboard the Sentinel for these last ten months has been an exceptional experience. My colleagues and staff have proven exceptionally competent, emerging triumphant over many horrific threats most other crews would rather retreat from. My duties aboard the Sentinel have been fulfilling, however, I have reached a point in my career where I would like to expand my prospects in a way that currently isn't available here. Recent events have inspired me to look into leadership roles in service, but command-level positions on the Sentinel are hard to come by. There are plenty of people in line ahead of me for Second Officer, and rightfully so. You have a very capable crew that I'm proud to have been a part of.
That said, I would like to request a transfer to the Protector's vacant Executive Officer position. Given the smaller scale of the assignment, it would be ideal for officers like myself seeking to gain field experience. I believe my passing the Bridge Officer's Test, having managed a rather large security staff here on the Sentinel, and recent command decisions during a crisis situation represent adequate experience to qualify me for the position.
I look forward to your response.
Sincerely, Tolar Rakim Demor Lieutenant, Chief of Security U.S.S. Sentinel NCC-99014
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Oct 31, 2016 0:58:05 GMT -5
After thirty-three hours of work, it was time for Tolar to get some well-deserved rest... but he couldn't get his earlier conversation with Jonathan out of his mind.
"I've been given a second chance."
Seeing Doctor Stratman laying there in the morgue had done a number on him emotionally. Far more than he'd expected, given that he barely knew the man. Perhaps it wasn't who it was, but what it represented. The fragility of life, how easily it could be taken away by nefarious hands. He'd known it all too well from an early age, too well, but this unwelcome reminder brought those unpleasant memories right back to the surface. His hand instinctively brushed the scar on his cheek, a physical reminder of the day his world was changed forever.
Slipping out of his uniform jacket, he walked into the bathroom and ran cold water in the sink. Looking up into his reflection, he examined his weary face closely. Was he really living? Or just surviving? For so long, he'd buried himself in Starfleet service. They were the only organization lawfully and realistically capable of snuffing out the True Way. Those irredeemable, corrupt, maniacal fools that took that poor little boy's mătzka away from him. Revenge had driven him, and driven a wedge between him and every relationship he'd ever had. He hasn't been on speaking terms with his father for the better part of a decade. Now? The True Way is no more. What does he have to show for it? No loving home to go back to, just a house with nostalgic memories attached to it. A uniform, a bed, and one friend he isn't even that close to anymore, after years of separation. The only person in the universe that had shown him true understanding was lightyears away, on some temporary assignment with questionable longevity.
Grimacing, he began to brush his teeth. At least lightyears away is relatively close compared to how far apart they'd been recently. It wasn't so long ago that that man was on another plane entirely, his body clinically dead, preserved in stasis for weeks. During that time, Tolar felt so lost. His relationship with Tiberius, brief though it was, had been so full of hope and promise, one of the few genuinely bright spots in his life. It meant a lot to him, having someone go out of their way to care for him and love him, despite knowing his deepest flaws and secrets. To have that snatched away was devastating, but to have it given back? Those forces beyond reason and perception, those divine machinations he'd begrudged so long for taking his mother away, seemed to take pity on him for a change. Nature broke its own rules to give him another chance at happiness.
"We couldn't make the distance work."
Rinsing his mouth out with water, he pondered their future together. Tolar knew that he had no right to try and keep Tiberius from pursuing his career aspirations, even if they took him elsewhere. After all, they'd only been together for a short time, however blissful and memorable it may have been. Now, after everything that had happened, he wasn't so sure he was content to let distance stand between them. Perhaps it was simply being clingy, perhaps it was some sort of noble protectiveness, but as someone who fought his whole life, he wasn't about to let Tiberius slip away from him again.
He spit the foamy mixture of toothpaste and water into the sink, then went to his bedroom. Sitting on the edge of his neatly kept bed, he unfastened his belt and slipped out of his shoes, shimmying out of his pants. Pulling the covers down, he slid under them, getting comfortable. Taking a PADD from the nightstand, he interfaced with his personal systems and opened the latest message from Tiberius. He was a day behind in his communications, thanks to the Sentinel's nightmare of a mission to Ardana III. Hopefully, he wasn't too worried...
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Oct 23, 2016 13:08:52 GMT -5
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Post by Lieutenant Tolar Demor on Aug 6, 2016 2:10:02 GMT -5
What a decidedly meta weekend...
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