Rhean t'Valae

"Dance in the Dark" How could the very stars be wrong? Oh, Elements... What was a scientist to do when all the facts she relied on went awry? Here was Dhawiir, blue and bright, and there Aefvisuu, just as it should be. But look, there lay Kalharv, unmistakable with its odd, heavy-element specta: a star oddly young for its neighborhood. Only that could not be Kalharv, because that trickster star lay four light-years towards the galactic south. Oh, it was little enough of an error, surely; just enough to set someone scolding back on ch'Rihan where some poor centurion at Galae's Astronavigation and Cartography would surely catch hell for allowing galactic drift to go uncorrected for so many cycles. Only there was Tefira, equally unmistakable, for how many stars had full fourteen planets, not even counting the veritable fleet of moons? Faster moving, yet right in place where it ought to be. Still Rhean frowned at it across the light-years, for those fourteen, so dependable in their cosmic dance, were all out of place like hlai scattered before hnoiyikar. It might be the sensors, of course. Small wonder that they should be functioning ill; with the poor ship crippled and bleeding from the gut, how could the eyes and ears be expected to know where they were? But it was hard, so hard on a science officer. Those sensors were not bits of machinery and programming, but extensions of the scientist -- eyes and ears indeed, better than those of flesh, capable of seeing into the hostile void where no light lived, of hearing where there was no air to carry sound. To be so betrayed by her instruments was like a blow; almost it was easier to think the stars were wrong, that they had forgotten the steps of their dance. Perhaps a stray black hole had passed through this sector, or even a rogue star. For more and more, betrayals aside, Rhean was coming to think that the stars were wrong, not the sensors, not the charts. What hand could rearrange the jewels in the fabric of space? Wide-eyed, she stared out at the unfriendly, uncertain dark, suddenly wishing for good solid Earth beneath her, and Air not bottled into a starship far from its homesun. Elements help us all...

Rhean paced her quarters anxiously. She'd had little time recently to consider the implications of the information she'd stumbled upon in her last quiet moments, but now, with the ship at rest after the battle, she was able to give it due thought. And that thought kept tending to one frightening conclusion: that their new first officer was a criminal at best and a traitor at worst. How had she gotten to this point? In a moment of peace, her curiosity had gotten the better of her (truth be known, it often did), and she had programmed the computer for a thorough search on one Destorie tr'NDak and House s'NDak. She'd always been proud of her computer searches; she had a knack for making the machine cough up data others would never discover. On this occassion, it produced results beyond her wildest imaginings. Not that it was all that much data, really. A short news clip of a trial during the Dominion War, that was all. At least, that was all she had seen. There should be more, based on the content of that clip; if there wasn't, someone would have had to purge it. There was a disturbing thought indeed. Enough of this, she thought, abruptly stopping her pacing. Running over it in circles would accomplish nothing. What she needed was more information -- as much information as she could get. Fortunately, Rhean was very, very good at gathering information.

Rhean sat in her quarters, dressed in clean clothes and typing her mission report with much muttering to herself and revising. ___________ INTERNAL ETREHH COMMUNICATIONS FILE SENDER: T'VALAE, RHEAN ATTENTION: KHRE'RIOV T'REXAN SUBJ: MISSION REPORT, [PLANET NAME] Khre'Riov, my compliments, and permit me to report on the events of this our most recent mission. Our objective was to locate and apprehend a Tal Shiar spy who had stolen an REF and ground to ground on [planet name]. With your indulgence, rekkhai, I shall dispense with the preliminaries of the mission leading to our insertion at the spaceport. No doubt these events are better related by those who played a greater role in them. Upon entry, we assumed the garb and role of various dockworkers, as we came upon suitable camouflage. My assumed identity placed me in such position as to load cargo crates onto a ship docked in port. By itself this should be nothing suspicious, but for that the ship was of Sheliak origin. Despite our best efforts, we remain uncertain how and why the Tal Shiar came to ally themselves with the Sheliak. Alliance, though, it must be, for the crates we loaded contained not merely the foodstuffs so abundant on that world, but also spare parts and weapons, some with the Galae's own mark still on them. Indeed, we found crates labelled for delivery to Talon itself slated for loading. Attached is a listing of all the cargo codes I was able to record. Beyond the disturbing implications of the Tal Shiar-Sheliak alliance, the presence of these supplies begs the question of what is being given to those ships which were intended to receive them. Either we now have several ships un- or under-supplied, supplied with substandard replacements, or someone has double-ordered them. It would be instructional to determine which case is true. Once the Sheliak vessel was fully loaded, we were able to investigate the complex further. The Elements favored us, clearly, for we quickly stumbled across the REF stolen by the traitor, and at the same time picked up indications of his presence. Arrain tr'Khev and I investigated the REF. Obtaining access was not difficult, although the traitor had locked it down. I append some few suggestions to improve our security for the future. Such was our ease of entry, however, that we came to suspect the vessel was booby-trapped. Proceeding with caution, we discovered no such traps, but also no useful information. At this point, we chanced to see the traitor walking with several Tal Shiar officers. We, and the rest of the team (excepting tr'NDak, who was absent and had been for some while) followed this group. They complained of the Sheliak arrogance, mentioned a coup, and stated that they possessed a full garrison and REF fleet. There was discussion of capturing at least one of these officers, but el'Riov t'Aehjae ruled that it would draw too much attention to us. They continued their conversation with reference to "the deihu" and "his whelp"; presumably they refer to tr'NDaks father and son. There was much discussion on the subject of killing one or both of them, and a desire to destroy the Talon. Our means of eavesdropping was cut off shortly thereafter, and we repaired to a safe contact point to await Talon's check-in. Tr'NDak rejoined us during our exit from the facility, and he and t'Aehjae had a heated argument while we awaited Talon's comm signal. He was no longer with us at the time of beam-out, however, so t'Aehjae remained behind to search for him and tr'Psichore, whom some thought we had seen in the port. We took supplied to the silo which had previously housed our party and then returned to the port. Tr'SBien rejoined us as we reached it. We were unable to apprehend the traitor, and tr'NDak apparently made his own transport arrangements, but we did gather further evidence regarding the diverted supplies. Unable to achieve any of our other objectives, we returned to the beam-out point. Scanner datalogs are attached. ________ She hit the SEND key and then sat there. She sat quietly for a long, long time, gazing thoughtfully at the screen, now empty but for the MESSAGE SENT confirmation glowing steadily. At last she began typing again. ________ INTERNAL COMMUNICATIONS PRIVATE SENDER: T'VALAE, RHEAN ATTENTION: KHRE'RIOV T'REXAN Llhei, allow me to put before you a matter related to our most recent mission. I felt it inappropriately placed within the formal report; indeed, I confess an uncertainty in reporting it at all. But considerations of duty must needs take precedence over confidences kept. And perhaps it is no troublesome thing, at that; I hold myself unfit to judge. While on planet I had occasion to speak with daise'erei'Riov tr'NDak in some privacy and at some length. The content of that conversation was thus: We discussed the current situation, and his disappearance while on planet. He indicated that he had been following tr'Psichore, whom he believed to be a double agent. He then raised the subject of his family. He told me that House s'NDak was disgraced in an incident involving his mother and a plot to use the Sheliak and the Dominion to destabilize the Gamma Quadrant. The Tal Shiar, he said, offered his father a chance to regain face by dealing with you, khre'Riov. Apparently the resolution of that incident was unsatisfactory to them. Or the daise'erei'Riov has a healthy paranoia. In either event, he believes the Tal Shiar are trying to kill him, and further that they have been and will continue to try to kill you in order to remove him. I found that line of reasoning illogical, but he claims to have been threatened, should you die of anything but natural causes. Beyond this, he told me little of any concrete use, although he did speculate that the alliance with the Sheliak may be prelude to a coup. Although he protested ignorance, there was something about his body language that suggested her knew more than he was telling. It seems like a small amount of information, khre'Riov, and perhaps unimportant as well, but instinct tells me there is something more at work. Forgive me if I trouble you with matters you already have well in hand. By my hand, Rhean t'Valae

And Elements help us all...

Rhean finished tossing the grain sacks over the supplies and stepped back to consider her handiwork. "I think that's as concealed as we're going to make it, rekkhai," she said. "We'll just have to hope na io has a burning desire for freshly-ground flour." "Freshly ground flour or anthing esle we have. Where was the last place you saw NDak?" "We were talking, then I looked away for a moment -- just a moment! -- and he was gone." She made a noise of disgusted frustration. "Is the man an aehallh, to move so quietly?" "Sometimes I wonder myself. He has done that to me several times " "He was most determined to find tr'Psichore, so he must have headed back to the facility. Some of au saw Psichore while tr'Khev and I were examining the ship, did au na?" "We did. He was in the presence of the Tal Shiar. Something is na right here. That's why we must go back to the facility and find them both." Rhean nodded and turned to peer out the tiny windows of the silo. "Na io looking," she reported. "Io or both of them are working for the Tal Shiar, au think?" T'Aehjae walked over to t'Valae and stood behind her. "I have an odd feeling that they both are. NDak would na surprise me, but Psichore is a shock," she said, shaking her head. "Na the type?" T'Valae peeked out the window one more time before cautiously trying the door. "Na, he is the type, Just with him being our XO. I mean he just doesn't sound like he would be a traitor." T'Aehjae added, "Do au see anyio approaching?" She nodded. "And he did save the khre'Riov.... Na, all is quiet. We can go." Rhean frowned, then. "I do na understand all this," she complained honestly. "Plots within plots, and the only constant seems to be that everyio wants tr'NDak and t'Rexan dead." They begin walking back towards the facility. "I have been in trouble with t'Rexan but I do na wish her yy'll. I now respect her and what she stands for." Aehjae looked around watching the surroundings. "I'm afraid we will have to find them both." "I think I was just as soon na catch her attention," t'Valae admitted, "but we're all still alive, and given this ship's missions, that's surprising. I don't understand why everyio wants to kill both of them. Though I grant, if he is anything like his brother, tr'NDak is annoying enough to want dead." Rhean pointed down towards the facility, where a few people were walking aimlessly. "Perhaps the side door, this time." T'Aehjae looked down at the facility. "Ie, a side door may give us a bit more of an edge. We must use catuion. The same rules go. T'Rexan will have our hides if we are caught." "Au're the expert," t'Valae acknowledged. "This is all... very new to me." "Lets move." t'Aehjae started walking down towards the facility hoping and praying to the elements that na io caught them. Rhean hurried along in her wake, hyper-alert and hoping she didn't look like an idiot starting at every noise.

Rhean glanced over at N'Dak again, as she had been doing periodically since he rejoined them. This time, however, she made no attempt to disguise the look. Coming to a decision, she scooted over to sit beside him, handing him a ration bar. "Eat something," she said conversationally. After a few moments, N'Dak begrudgingly took the ration bar with a grunt. "Hann'yyo." She dropped her voice slightly; under Khev's singing it was unlikely any of the others would hear her. "Au know, au're going to have to come up with better answers eventually." "I already have them," he said scathingly "Produce, then," t'Valae amended, rolling her eyes slightly. "Questions are going to be asked." She glanced sidelong at him. "Aur loyalty is under question." The look in his eyes hardened. "I do na serve the Tal'Shiar." His voice was unshaken, "That opportunity has passed..." "Au do na have to serve the Tal'Shiar," replied Rhean, filing the second part of his reply away for future reference. "The question is whether au serve the ship and the khre'Riov." "If my loyalty were elsewhere, she'd be yy'a and I would be in command of the Talon." Ice and fire simmered around N'Dak, ice on his voice and fire in his soul. Ever since he'd disappeared and reappeared, there had been a bubbling tension about him. He cast a glance to the female officer next to him. "My loyalty is to the Empire, the Galae, my commander, and my ship." Rhean rested her chin on a fist and regarded him thoughtfully. "Save aur ire, daise'erei'Riov. I only say what everyio is thinking: 'Where has he been? Has he betrayed us after all?'" Her eyes flicked to the others, sitting wearily and warily, listening to Khev while they waited to hear from Talon. "They wonder when they will feel aur blade in their backs." He grunted lowly. "If I were going to stab them in the backs, I would have already done it....besides it's na me they need to be worried about." She slanted another glance at him. "I've heard au tried. But who should they worry about?" N'Dak smirked slightly but it quickly vanished beneath his displeasure. "Tr'Psichore." One hand lifted in a graceful gesture that encompassed their small group. "Na here." "I was following him," he said lowly. "I believe he's playing both sides." She leaned forward slightly. "Oh? Why save the khre'Riov, then, when we all thought he was dead anyway?" "There is much au do na know." N'Dak looked around for a moment, checking his surroundings. "How much do au know of my family's involvement with the Tal'Shiar?" "Truth or rumor?" t'Valae replied, laughing slightly. "Aur sister is io of them, na?" "Ie," he said with a sigh. "But it is deeper than that... what do au know, rumor wise?" She shrugged slightly. "Aur di'ranov is a deihu; there will always be rumors. Ie, and he was io of them as well, is it na so?" Rhean dropped her voice still further. "Of course, there are some who say that au are io as well. And that au, and aur family, merely bide aur time -- that au will take the ship, and someday the Empire. But," and she sat back again, speaking in a more normal tone, "that is merely gossip." "Some of it na far off the mark," Destorie made an effort to keep his voice low. "My father was once a member, ie. When he became deihu, he left them. Though he kept his ties with them... when... the matter with t'Rexan came up it was the Tal'Shiar and certain members of the Senate offered my mother and my father an opportunity to regain some of the status we lost as a result of that... incident." "So au family would have au destroy the khre'Riov... ie, I begin to see." Rhean was silent for a moment. "Why did au try to refuse aur father... when..." "Na, that is na it." Distracted from the question she was trying to frame, t'Valae took a moment to form words. "Na? Then what is it?" Destorie took a deep breath before replying. "At the time I was barely aware of the details, I only knew my mother had been reassigned to a new base in the Gamma Quadrant. Apparently, they were planning some... plot with the Shelliak and a faction of the Dominion to plunge the entire quadrant into war again." "Apparently, my mother, being the person she is... decided to blow the cover on the operation and ruined it... making more than her fair share of enemies of the Tal'Shiar." Her interest piqued, Rhean edged a little closer, so that they sat knee-to-knee. "And aur family survived this?" "They can't act on my mother... she's too far away, and my father... he knows too much about what's going on here... or so I suspect... and that's why they're trying to kill me." She blinked. "Au... appear remarkably healthy for a man who has the Tal Shiar after him. Especially considering that --" t'Valae broke off, looking away. "Considering what?" Carefully, she said, "Considering how many others are... less healthy." "And there lies another piece of information au didn't know," he said even lower than the rest of the conversation. "They don't have to kill me, if t'Rexan dies. It will only be a matter of time before the Galae comes for me." Rhean turned that over in her mind a few times. "I had heard," she said slowly, "that tr'Vatrix might have said something of the sort to au... but I had na credited it." "Well I heard it from the mans lips... and he meant it." N'Dak looked around a second time checking the others, and seeing if the Talon had made contact. "In any case we need to find out why they're sending money, weapons, equipment and supplies to the Shelliak. If we can find that out... we may have a bit of... leverage." She made a face. "We were trying to when au showed up out of nowhere." "As I said, I was following tr'Psichore..." He paused again before speaking. "Something is na right here... whatever they're up to, it is bigger than any of us." "And what do au think it is?" Her tone said that she was reserving judgement on the validity of his opinions, but she watched him with an intense curiosity all the same. "And therein lies the problem," Destorie looked off into the sky, his eyes far more distant than his voice. "What could it be... my gut tells me they're planning something... a coup?" The expression on her face might be politely described as skeptical. "With the Shelliak?" "That's why we need to know more..." In frustration, she exclaimed, "Well, what do au expect to learn out here?" "Nothing," he said finally. "But we have to make contact with the Talon or t'Rexan will assume we're dead." T'Valae sighed, leaning back on her hands and looking up at the dimming sky. "This entire situation is far too strange for my liking." "Me too...me too."

Oelh d-navassa'tel, t'Ksa!!

You so stole that line from me, brat.

Well, if the mine does blow up, it'll be A Minor problem, but the pain will probably B Sharp. Rhean For once glad to have missed a sim

What I find interesting, reading rememberances here and elsewhere across the 'net, is how hard 9/11 seems to have hit people outside of New York, relative to those in it. I work in Manhattan. As a friend of mine put it, "'Normal' is a tough word to apply to New Yorkers, but we're as normal as we get." Not to say that there aren't still people dealing with the lingering effects of the day -- there are PTSD suffers, people with health problems, and of course those who lost loved ones will be dealing with it forever. But the average person on the street is, at the risk of putting it lightly, "over it." A horrible thing happened on September 11, 2001. But you go forward. You pick up what pieces you can and you move on to the next thing. If you spend your life watching the skies or flinching at every noise, if you wonder who on the street around you might be carrying a bomb, or whether the mail is laced with anthrax... You're not living. You can't live your life in fear. New Yorkers 'grok' that. The Towers were destroyed; the City wasn't. We go on. We rebuild. Tragedy happens, and we remember it, but we don't dwell on it. We survived. Next. I don't know if it's an urban thing, or peculiar to certain places... It's not a purely American thing, I know; I've seen it in Belfast and London. Life goes on. One of my friends had a good idea this morning, I think. She called for this day to be one that celebrates life, rather than dwelling on death. To create, rather than destroy. So write a poem, tell a story, sing, dance, kiss someone you love. But stop staring at those pictures of the burning towers, and reading the news retrospectives about the attack. Get out and start living. New Yorkers have. Next.

<Etrehh records: File 7585940029, Personal Communications of Rhean t'Valae. Header destination: ch'Havran, Mnharru t'Valae.> Mnharru, Au have no business telling me what to do with my life. I chose the Galae and the Galae sent me here. I will not so shame myself and my family as to abandon my duty at the first sign of trouble. The crew here is composed of fine individuals - strange, perhaps, but fine. What ship would not have the occasional misadventure? Stop meddling in matters that do na concern au. <Timestamp shows 2 hours elapsed> And furthermore, things are back to normal here. We have a new assignment and every io is recovering well from our last io. Even as I write we are preparing to get underway. Au have na idea what life is like out here, and au have na place telling me how to manage my affairs. <Timestamp shows 4 hours elapsed.> Mnhar... rinam... <File 7585940029 deleted.> <Etrehh records: File 7585943782, Personal Communications of Rhean t'Valae. Header destination: ch'Havran, Mnharru t'Valae.> Rinam dear, Perhaps au are right about circumstances here. Au would hardly believe what happened today...

::na so much scared as 'wisely keeping out of the line of fire':: As for N'Dak's response... ::slides a collection of plants with nasty side effects over to Ksa:: Help aurself. (Great log!)

My dear rinam, Word has just reached me of aur ship's unfortunate misadventures. While I'm sure it would be an interesting story about any other ship in the Galae, the fact that my rinam was aboard made it most uncomfortable news. Rhean, fhaen, take my advice and transfer sooner rather than later. In fact, with such an incident in aur records -- though of course I'm sure au had no part in it -- au might consider a career change. H'nah, do na jump down my throat. I know what au are thinking: the nasty Tal Shiar hates the Galae and wants everyio in her family to steer clear of them. Honestly, what did they teach au at the academy? Au will note I'm not suggesting that Eriu resign. I only want what's best for au -- au are my rinam first, after all. I wish au could remember that; I didn't choose this career to hurt au. Speaking of our ia'rinam, ask Eriu for her advice if au cannot trust mine. I imagine she'll tell au much the same. She may even be able to pull some strings for au. Or ri'nanov might. I know au were excited to get this post, rinam, but whatever affection au feel towards aur ship and comrades, au need to think of aurself and aur family. Take care, and keep aur head down. Aur rinam, Mnharru

Something random I was wondering about -- Joint logs. Do you write them? If so, how? Do you plan it out in advance with your partner, or start from a scenario and improvise? Sim it out and translate the ::actions:: later, or write in prose from the get-go? Pass pieces back and forth by email or arrange a chat? I said it was random. :) Personally, I prefer to work in prose, live. But I do planned logs and improvised logs about the same amount.

Whirlwind 05.25.06 Dazed, Rhean stared at the deckplates where tr’Vatrix had stood moments before, not really seeing them. She felt as though she had been plunged into a black hole, looking out at events zipping along in normal space while she herself struggled to crawl against the time-binding gravity. Events of the last few days had swept her along unwilling; she longed for the security of the lab, the rigid control of procedure, the predictability of data. But even the lab was no haven now; witness the two batches of ruined chemicals currently working their way through the recyclers, libations on the altar of distraction. Slowly she raised her eyes, searching the faces of the others on the oira for some sign that their worlds were spinning as fast as her own. She suddenly felt very young. No, that wasn’t true. She had felt young since she had seen the bitter, vindictive pleasure on the faces of Deihu N’Dak and tr’Vran. Yes, she had seen their enmity for t’Rexan at the tribunal, N’Dak’s in particular, but still she had believed that the tribunal had made its decision for the good of the Galae, if not for the Rihan people or for justice. In the cargobay, though, there was no way to deny that the men were acting from petty personal motivations of revenge and jealousy; it had shown in every twisted line of the faces. And she rather thought, as her stomach clenched at the memory, that seeing the glee in their eyes was more obscene that t’Rexan’s punishment itself, though only an act of will had kept her watching that obscenity. A short time ago she had been doubting her service on the Talon. Now Rhean found herself questioning her service in the Galae itself, if the reward a loyal and successful commander could expect to claim was a biobed in medical and possibly a knife in a bloody back. Her eye fell on N’Dak, sitting stiffly in the command chair as if he thought it might bite. Would he/wouldn’t he? She hadn’t been so completely stunned by her own double promotion that she’d missed the glare tr’Vatrix leveled at N’Dak. It was clear he did not trust the young Daise Erei'Riov. Why put him in command, then? She saw only two possibilities: either Deihu N’Dak had demanded it, or t’Rexan had left orders to that effect. The latter was ridiculously improbable, of course, but would account for his being elevated above others in the chain of command. Either way, she thought, N’Dak had a sense of honor. A strange one, granted, but present nonetheless. The Khre’Riov was probably safe – from N’Dak at least – until she was well enough to leave medical. After that… From the shadows at the edge of the oira Rhean studied the elder N’Dak brother. Issaha was easy to read; not so Destorie’s closed face. Would he give up this newfound power when t’Rexan was well enough to reclaim it, or would there be yet another power struggle on the Talon? Was one brewing even now? She could no more read t’Aehjae than N’Dak, except to say that the Daise’Dheno did not look happy. Neither would t’Temarr, she supposed, who had already demonstrated a taste for command. That was two. As for t’Ksa, if she’d wanted command, she’d had people vulnerable in her medbay often enough. And the Science department… Rhean turned to study her Daise, wondering for the first time what secrets and ambitions might lurk behind that friendly smile. And if it came down to drawn lines, what then? Rhean was uncomfortable aware that she could no longer hide behind the wide-eyed guise of new erein. But she still felt like one, stumbling blindfolded through machinations established long before she blundered onto the scene. In the last day – or was it two? – her opinions of her crewmates had shifted dizzyingly, from suspicion to sympathy to wariness. Her reason said to keep her head down, but instinct warned her that might not be possible. It was enough to make a woman paranoid.