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Post by Lt Commander Marcus Aquila on Nov 18, 2018 20:26:45 GMT -5
Niaev sat in the bunk in her spartan quarters and pulled out a leather bound journal from a file of such things. She turned to a blank page and began to write.
" Dearest Jela, I am writing to you from another galaxy. I arrived a few weeks ago and it is a wondrous place. I have been embedded with the Federation again. A demotion so to speak as this position required military rank so for the first time i am a "sublieutenant" whatever in Ariennye that means, how can you be sub a rank? Anyway that doesn't really matter its suppose to be my job to heal people not command starships. Which brings me to today. The humans have a word for what happened on this little wasteland of a planet. Clusterfuck. a colorful word but it describes the situation perfectly. My first mission on board this ship and I'm force to surrender due to the federation not being able to shoot their way out of a bucket of virinak dung. Now I'm not much of a shot either but that is not my job. Well after that situation got handled I got dropped into another one. A vulcan as it usually is is currently in my sickbay holding a demon at bay. A demon that looks like an 11 year old little girl. Just like you were when ch'Rihan went up in flames. I think I saw that today. What it must have been like for you and father and mother. Luckily the vulcan V'tira was able to shield the alien from my grief. Almost 35 years ago now and I still feel like it happened yesterday. Like the week before I had held you and given you that stuffed virinak to keep safe for me to return from my trip. Saying goodbye to you and father and mother. *tear stain on the paper* Anyway I met another android today, this one on my crew.
With all the love in two galaxies.
Niaev."
She placed the journal back in with the others and laid down to sleep.
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Post by Lt Commander Marcus Aquila on Nov 29, 2018 22:44:48 GMT -5
Niaev placed the last of box of her things in her new quarters that she shared with Shay. The little android was going to be an interesting roommate and she wasn't wrong about the hum of her EM bed. The hum reminded Nieav of the faulty EPS relay behind the bunk she shared with her husband before they were married aboard the Mitte'temar. She wipes a small tear from her eye. The memories still fresh from her recent episode. She retrieved a small leather bound journal from the box beside her bunk and lay back removing the locking strap and taking the pen attached to the next blank page. She began to write.
"Dearest Jela I fell into a bottle again. The first time in eight years. I lost control, between the vision with the young girl and all the talk of family and close quarters the memories came rushing back and I fell to the old weakness. I crawled back into the bottle and would not have crawled out until I found the bottom. Something about this place feeds on the negative emotion, its like you feel it more strongly here. Sometimes I envy the Yyaio and their ability to suppress emotion. I did realize something. I have been so bathed in blood from the moment I left the Mitte that I never truly mourned you and mother and father and our planet. Maybe that's why its coming to the surface now. Maybe its time. Though to make matters worse I have a betazoid first officer. I can't even make a feeble attempt to suppress my emotions, she is going to feel them. I was drunk and an emotional mess when she called me to her office to treat a minor injury. I had wanted to discuss her own mental health with her, but that trust I fear may have been thrown out the nearest airlock to join my self respect in a dance out in the black void of the universe. How can I help her if I stink of Andorian vodka. My new roommate is a respite from such thoughts. She was designed for something far more degrading than the position she now holds. She's actually only as old as you were when I lost you. Though she looks like a grown, well i shouldn't say grown that isn't the right word. She looks like a diminutive adult human female. I am looking forward to this journey and what new inside to the mind it may bring.
With all the love in two galaxies, Niaev "
Niaev closed the book and held it to her chest, she slid the privacy screen back and cut out the light to go to sleep, listening to the hum of the bed and thinking of those joyous moments with Darok.
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Post by Lt Commander Marcus Aquila on Dec 14, 2018 13:56:08 GMT -5
Niaev stirred awake, the hum of of Shay's power transfer was not enough to ease her troubled mind tonight. This place was unpredictable, choatic. Over the past couple days she had treated stab wounds that looked like they came from a giant spider, dealt with what could only be described as dragons from terran lore and had to put a vulcan's mind back together. Then, then she had shot that vulcan. Lost her memory, her identity and shot someone and thrown the security chief accross the room. She sat up and stepped out into the main part of the small quarters. She retrieved the journal and opened it past her latest letter to Jela detailing all of it. She started to hum a tune. Shay wasn't in her bunk, probably still on the bridge. She retrieved a pen and started to write.
"Dearest Jela,
I have to write someone else tonight, I hope you understand. With all the love in two galaxies. Niaev "
She then sang allowed. Unlike her normal repertoire of songs from Earth this was in Rihan. It was the tale of two lovers separated, the male in service to the empire on its borders and the woman looking on a star. It was from a romulan opera, one that had probably not been sung for almost thirty years. It had been Darok's favorite song. She put the pen to the paper of the journal again.
"Darok,
I haven't you written you before. Not in a journal or even attempted to message you. Yet lately you have been forefront in my mind. Fifteen years, we have been separated longer now than we were together separated not by distance, but by stubbornness. Mine? yours? It doesn't matter, we are probably both equally guilty. Lately I have come to the realization that I do not even know if you are alive. The Mitte never showed on any registries marking it destroyed but honestly neither did a great many ships during the Iconian war. The death on New Romulus, I should have looked you up then, when I had the chance. Again i was buried in my work, replacing limbs, mending families. Saving others loved ones even though my own's fate was unknown to me.
I miss our nights in that small, crowded hold just looking out of that small window at the stars, dreaming about a future together. I miss that feeling that my universe could fit in a small room. Now I just miss being held. My mind left me over these past few weeks and for a moment I was that scared girl you protected and comforted so long ago, before decades of blood. And beyond I forgot our sorrow, and for a brief moment I had the innocence of youth long lost again. I cannot help but wonder if we would have children of our own had I stayed. That maybe that was what you were truly angry about. I want the chance to set things right. But more importantly I want to know if you are alive.
Your Midnight Star
Nieav"
Nieav was no longer singing, she wiped the tears from her eyes and lay back down in the bed, but sleep never came.
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Post by Lt Commander Marcus Aquila on May 31, 2019 14:53:13 GMT -5
Niaev stared out over the holograpahic water from her where she sat on the beach. The simulation was serene, peaceful, a direct contrast to the maelstom of thoughts in her own mind. It had been some time since her determination to find her husband. Shay's help had been instrumental, finding a lead that allowed her to at least gain the confirmation that Darok had survived the destruction of the mitte'temor. From there it had lead to a dark realization that without help she would have to seek out further informaiton through the underworld. That had lead her to house mokai, and a demand that if she carried it out likely meant the end of her career with starfleet and the republic. A choice she was close to making when fate would submit an alternative.
The trill admiral had no reason to help her, she wasn't starfleet, merely attached to her command and yet she seemed sincere in her offer. If a Vice Admiral could not get the information she needed perhaps the klingon had been lying to her in an attempt to double cross her. A trick she hoped he would not attempt, the romulan medical oath leaves a lot of spae for pain in " Do no lasting harm". And Klingon redundancies do allow for creative live bisections. she shook her head and pulled out the journal and started to write.
Jela,
A lot has happened since I last wrote you. Much of which I would wish to shield from you. I am closer in finding Darok even if it is a long shot and the help of a new friend. Unfortunately that still places me waiting. OUr latest mission however brought up new feelings. We descended into a paradise. A garden created to preserve a race from destruction. The race was interesting. A plant based species seeming living at one with their environment. They appeared to be mono-gendered and homosexual in genotypic expression however there existed a large spectrum of phenotypic expression between classically feminine shapes and more androgynous phenotypes. I Converse with several members of the species which expressed xenophobic responses toward outsiders. Understandable as no one wishes to allow the serpent into paradise to quote a Human poet. However the misunderstanding and the nature of their religion lead to the science team we were sent to extract being sentenced to death. A fate no one deserves yet often sentenced in religious societies.
Again I was reminded of the weaknesses of the current crew I am assigned to help. A crew that is slowly becoming like a family despite my efforts to remain distant. The Captain is often similar to an absent father figure. The First officer the overworked mother. I do not know where this leaves me. Shay is very much like you, but I have to remember that she is not. She has her own journey that I hope to help guide. V’tira. V’tira is more romulan than vulcan. And I mean that in the federation use of the word. She seems driven more by her passions than logic. She is also young and perhaps will tame with age and wisdom as we all do. Mr Ristovski is competent however quick to be upset. Though he does typical work best when agitated it seems so perhaps that is not a bad thing. His temperament reminds me less of a starship engineer and more of a combat engineer within one of Starfleet's ground units.
Ms Tegan makes me smile. She is in her own world. A trill by genes a klingon my heart. Competent in her job but always striving to be something other than what she is. Reminds me of me during my early time at Starfleet medical, when i grew out my bangs and hit my ears to pass as human. She was quick to adapt to the paradise we entered, I feel she would have remained given the option. That is an assessment shared by another.
Mr Blaine. I could likely write you pages upon pages about Mr Blaine. In many ways he infuriates me, in others he intrigues me. I do not understand why. He is Human. in all the ways that word describes. Brash, rude, passionate, heroic, stupid, clever, and dedicated. And not half unattractive for his lack of ridges and pointed ears and that pale tone to his skin caused by ferrous blood. Still what happened on this mission affected me in a way I never would have imagined. Mr Blaine fell for the wiles of one of our hosts within paradise. And I felt jealous. The very fact that that emotion made an appearance is enough to turn stomach. But is it really bad? I don’t know, I am not even sure he would be interested I am only green on the inside. Still, when the priestess seemed to be in peril it was troubling how quickly they bonded. If this were any other member of the crew, I would have sought to council them against the action. But I cannot be sure if my desire to dissuade him was due to my own attraction or an medical concern. Fvadt it would be so much easier if Darok were here, Then I could simply do my job.
Anyway I have rambled on for to long now and I have a gig to prepare for, I have a new song to sing, one I have written due to our time within eden. I could use a drink.
With all my heart dear sister. Niaev.
Niaev closed the journal and moved to exit the holodeck humming a tune as she did.
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Post by Lt Commander Marcus Aquila on Jun 14, 2019 23:33:22 GMT -5
Niaev ate her food, writing in her journal.
Dear Lisa,
It has been far to long since I have written. Hells probably almost twenty years. Yet, the little things you did so long ago seem to constantly be influencing my current interactions with the crew of the protector. I think you'd like them. Find them interesting. You'd probably also scold me for moving to slow. That calendar we did on that lost bet actually came up today. And I TOLD them about it. I can't believe I did that. I just hope no one can really find it. Really glad we used nicknames. Though I am not sure if Eva is going to be enough to hide it if someone does an image lookup. There weren't that many Rihannsu with my hips at medical.
Anyway. All of those old movies seem to be coming up again and again. Its strange how important human history seems to be in starfleet regardless of species. You were right. Let just hope that the references stay to quips. I don't want to see Mr Ristovski in a scifi villian mask near Ms V'tira any time soon. Anyway Lis, you are missed. I love you Eva.
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Post by Lt Commander Marcus Aquila on May 26, 2020 11:55:24 GMT -5
Niaev laid down on the bed in her quarters on the citadel, the past couple days having been a whirlwind of emotion and change. Nothing she ever did was properly planned, it was always impulsive, reactive why should this be any different. Niaev took out the leather bound book, she read back over the past few entries, all of them were relatively clinical, lacking the flourish she use to give. A part of her was happy that her mind was ordered enough for that but they definitely did not read like the letters to Jela or her past. She began.
Dear Mother and Father, I haven't written either of you for a very long time. Mainly because I have always been afraid you would not approve of my life since your death. That I was working for the wrong people, doing the wrong things. Or a failure to control my own vices. All of that has changed. A being in this galaxy, Ashala has given me a chance to see that pain without its anchors. I am takign advantage.
Mol'Rihan recalled me to promote me to perhaps the most important person within the Mol'Rihan medical structure, a politcal figurehead and recruiting tool. I resigned. My friends are more improtant than large houses and luxury prisons, and it woudl seem there is someone I need to teach. Desiree has extended a field promotion to Lieutenant Junior grade pending a full commission in Starfleet. The job I turned down several times in my youth, In some ways I am following Lisa's path now for real. I will say I won't miss the Rihan military traditions. Starfleet seems much more lax with regards to those traditions. Even now they are more relaxed than they were during the klingon war.
With all my love. Niaev i'maena t'Sahan
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Post by Lt Commander Marcus Aquila on May 11, 2023 8:40:57 GMT -5
Niaev laid awake in her bed her head resting on the chest of Solvak, the vulcan's breathing was stable and measured. He was dreaming. She wondered on the subject of his dreams a moment before extracting herself form the bed carefully as not to wake him. Moving to the main room of their shared citadel quarters she retrieved a leatherbound journal, an older one. She hadn't used it in some time, retrieving her pen and ink she started the calligraphy of rihannsu.
"Dearest Lisa,
What was that question we once asked each other all those years ago under the highland sky? Who wants to live forever. I fear I may learn exactly what that means. My weakness, my pain an entity named Ashala took it from me. To better forge me into what was needed to fight these battles. I unfortunately now have had a glimpse of my future, my destiny. And the price traded for the boon gained in full. I couldn't be sure until I ran the test. All test came back the same. Reversal of Telomeric decay, my cells are regenerating themselves back to the state they were when rihannsu cell death begins. Roughly age 50. Which means that few if anyone will notice. I would start showing the signs of aging for another on hundred or so years. But... these results. I won't age. I will forever outlive everyone I know. Unless of course something violently ends this journey or if I give in to addiction again.
Though there is something else. The nirizeans did not seem to be able to get into my head. I know they tried but they did not succeed. I'll need more testing on this. We were taken prisoner. I helped us escape. I wouldn't have been able to do it if they could have read my mind.
On that, as part of the ruse I was close with Marcus again... very close. He confessed something to me. Something I already knew. And Truth be told I feel similar, but we are in a strange circumstance. I am a serial monogamist leaning on demisexual in reality. Actually would have put me at odds with some of the Northern continent marital practices that started up after Hobus, though those pairings were often two wives due to that being the easier way to increase population, but there is nothing to say a triad can't be two men and a woman. Yes I can hear your giggling now. I already talked with Solvak, and the infernal vulcan sees no issue. His logic is I am with him and have made those intentions clear so it is not a problem until it is. I suppose I need to talk with Marcus to see if it will be an issue. One thing is for certain, the whole age thing has become irrelevant.
Starting to understand now why Ashala called it a curse not a blessing.
Love Eva "
Niaev closed the journal.
"You are awake." She felt the vulcan's hand on her shoulder.
"I was writing an old friend. Couldn't sleep." she placed her hand on his.
"I will make some tea." The vulcan went to do just that as Niaev put away the pen and ink.
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