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Tory Knight

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About Tory Knight

  1. Biff. ::nods once, emphatically::
  2. A Waiting Game "Willow," SGV Eviess t'Mahren flopped down onto the sofa in her quarters, the unusual necklace she'd taken from t'Ksa twisting in her fingers. She stared, admiring how the light glinted off the crystalline facets. A smile flickered across her lips. Something so deadly concealed in something so beautiful. ...that was how someone once referred to her, wasn't it? A deadly chameleon – her heart's name, the name by which the Elements knew her. It was a name bestowed not through a vision or soul searching, but by a revered enemy. There was no revered enemy here, however; only muddy politics and old rivalries. The “chameleon” felt more than a little trapped. But how had she ended up here? She was always so very careful, always did her homework. Then she'd been approached for this job. Secret meetings, no names used, and yet she knew her contacts were Tal'Shiar – it was written all over their tradecraft. The terms dictated that she was unable to choose her own muscle, her own exit strategy, and her own interrogation methods. Yet, if she did this job, according to their rules, might she be able to end her unofficial exile? Her instincts had rebelled, but she'd taken the job. Eviess wished now she had listened to her instincts. The research she should have done prior to accepting the assignment told her one thing she didn't want to know: Their intended target, Morgana t'Ksa, was a loyal officer aboard the RES Talon – a ship once captained by t'Rexan, the bondmate of honored family friend and ally, Varlon tr'Vatrix. After the equivalent of a lloann'na lifetime, no political favor with the existing regime was worth alienating the Galae leader. So now the not-so-deadly chameleon faced the challenge of freeing herself and t'Ksa. With body and brain addled by fever and toxins, however, t'Ksa would be in no condition to travel for at least another two days. Eviess would also need to find ways of dispensing with not only her own hired muscle, but also Alura t'Prin and her entourage. That done, they would then still need to find an extraction point – not an easy task in Othan space, especially with Othan involvement in the current problem. Sighing, t'Mahren activated the necklace, counting to thirty. She then deactivated it and slipped it back into her pocket. Two days. She would have to make the most of them, orchestrating their escape. She only hoped that someone – the right someone – would be waiting.
  3. Not-So Jolly Holiday LTJG Victoria Knight MAJ Julian de Beresford (NPC) Note: Takes place following the Republic holiday party. *** “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” A wry smile curled across Tory’s lips as she leaned back in her chair. MAJ Julian de Beresford grinned back from her LCARS screen. He was clad in civilian clothes, she noted, towering shelves and antique books stacked behind him. It was a setting she didn’t recognize. “Not having a jolly holiday?” she asked. “Joyous, Lieutenant Knight; simply joyous!” Beresford dropped his tone. “Or as joyous as one can have, surrounded by eccentric aunts, uncles, a sibling, a ne’er-do-well brother-in-law, and a half-dozen nieces and nephews.” “With the way you’ve always talking about your family, I expected ‘home for the holidays’ would be a welcome trip.” “And it truly might be… except for Uncle Evelyn.” Both brows shot up. “Uncle Evelyn?” “Hmm,” Beresford replied, lips thinning. “A dour piece of work that made my early days at Eton a refuge.” Her own lips drew to a line. A small, intelligent boy who, at the age of 12, had yet to catch up with his peers, Julian once told her he held little affection for his first days at the prestigious school. It was until his later forms when he’d discovered rugby, polo, and mischievous friends that things changed for the better. That he preferred the bullying and hazing of those early days spoke volumes about his “Uncle Evelyn.” “Sounds positively charming,” Tory responded. “Your sister is doing well, at least?” “Quite. She and the husband are expecting number seven in May.” “Seven? She’s already got a full team!” “Yes, and once they’re all of age, perhaps they can form their own league. Or tour like the von Trapps.” The junior officer chuckled. “Now, now, Uncle Jules; be nice.” Beresford smiled. “Yes, well, they can carry a tune or two,” he said. “And how are you, out in the great black yonder?” “I’m…coping. There’s a great deal to learn, and our latest feat challenged my mediocre medical knowledge.” “So I won’t be addressing you as ‘Doctor Knight’ any time soon.” “Only in the academic sense. And then only once I’m able to complete my thesis.” The major frowned. “Still struggling?” “A touch,” Tory conceded. “Though, now that our mission is completed, I hope to have time to finish the draft – at least before the next shoe drops.” “And when might that be?” She gave a wry grin. “Any moment now, I suspect. While I appreciate the lapse, it’s been suspiciously quiet for a few days.” “Which can only mean bad things.” “Which can only mean the other shoe is about to drop,” Tory corrected, wry grin widening. “And what about you? When do you make your escape?” A mischievous twinkle lit his eyes. “I…will be reporting back to barracks tomorrow morning. I thought it might be good for morale if I let the other boys have the New Year.” “Good for yours or theirs, I wonder?” By “boys,” he was of course referring to the junior officers and enlisted Marines under his command. Tory allowed her eyes to mirror his, propping her chin in her palm, elbow on her desk. “Or possibly both,” she added. “A win-win situation: You get to escape the dreaded Uncle Evelyn, and the boys get to cause trouble for the New Year.” Beresford smirked. “Something like that.” “Uncle Jules!” A young female voice broke the long moment of silence between the two. A blur of blonde hair flopped into the Marine’s lap, turning wide blue eyes to the LCARS terminal. “Hallo,” she said. “Who are you?” “Well, aren’t you shy,” Tory replied. “I’m Tory. Who are you?” “My name’s Eleanor,” the little blonde answered, “but my brothers call me Ellie. Mum says it’s ‘cause they’re lazy.” Tory and Beresford both laughed. “They’re boys, love,” the major said. “We’re always lazy.” His eyes flitted over the blonde locks to look at Tory. “Unless highly motivated.” “But you’re not lazy, Uncle Jules! And you promised to take me out in the snow so we could build a fort and hit Tommy with snowballs!” “Well, Major,” Tory said smoothly, “there’s your motivation. You can’t deny a gorgeous little blonde like that.” There was a spark to Beresford’s eyes, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that made her blush. “I much prefer lanky, almost-ginger doctoral candidates. But, as you’re a galaxy away, I suppose I could be persuaded to be the dutiful uncle.” “Very magnanimous of you. Besides, the day will pass much quicker if you go play with your nieces and nephews.” “Yes… and a little less Uncle Evelyn.” Ellie made a face. “I don’t like her, either.” Turning, she looked up at her uncle. “Can we go play in the snow now?” “Yes, Eleanor, we can go play in the snow now. Go get your coat while I say goodbye to Tory.” Lifting the little girl off his lap, Julian set her to her feet. They pounded against the hardwoods as she disappeared back out of frame. “Duty calls, my dear.” “Yes, Major Beresford, you’re needed.” Tory smiled. “Try to have a good time.” “I will. And try to get your thesis done.” Her smile widened. “I will. Happy Christmas, Julian.” “Happy Christmas, Victoria. See you soon.” The image of Julian, set against books and shelves and home disappeared, replaced by the stark, modern lines of the Federation logo. Tory sighed. She hadn’t been homesick until now. Perhaps, if she was lucky, they could wish each other a happy New Year by the end of the week. ***
  4. Stroll of Shame MAJ Julian de Beresford MAJ James Kent *** Note: Takes place the morning after Tory departs for Republic, providing a little background. *** "Derby?" Major Julian de Beresford looked up from his newspaper and coffee, brow furrowed. Few people outside the Corps used his callsign, so hewas not surprised to see fellow Marine major James Kent standing before histable. The two had never been close friends, separated by a year at Eton, and then had been in the same officer candidate school cohort a year later. Still, time and close proximity as neighbors had shown him Jamie wasn't a bad sort. Mischievous, perhaps, but that was a trait Beresford had to admit they shared. Julian smiled, folding his paper closed as he rose. He extended a hand toward Kent. "Jamie," he said. "Good to see you, old man. Join me?" A grin broke across Jamie's features. "Thanks," he replied. Grabbing a nearby chair, he turned it backward, straddling the seat as he held his coffee in his hands. Once settled he nodded toward Beresford. "Didn't think you had duty this weekend." His brows furrowed for a moment before Beresford looked down, noting he was still wearing his uniform. "Ah... I don't. Just haven't had the chance to change." "Oh?" Kent's perpetual grin slipped lopsided, eyes twinkling. "Walk of shame?" Julian shook his head as he chuckled. "More like a leisurely stroll," he replied. "No shame involved." "Sounds serious. Still seeing Sir Richard's girl?" "Tory?" "That's the one." Beresford nodded. "Though she just shipped off for parts unknown," he answered. "Last minute orders for Republic." "Republic? Isn't she bound for Gamma? That's one Hell of a long distance relationship, Jules." "I'm well aware." Julian grimaced. He was also less than pleased. But how could he argue with an admiral who recognized thesame brilliance he had? A light smile flickered across his lips as he recalled their goodbye. With some effort, he regained his nonchalance. "Still, easier for me to visit her than for Republic to return. "Speaking of return... was that you I saw Gunny Dailey having lunch with this week?" Jamie cleared his throat. "Yeah, well... We... She–" Beresford chuckled. "Easy, tiger," he replied."Observation. Not accusation." "No reason for accusation, anyway," Jamie replied,waving him off. "We're just friends -- just one of the mates." "I could see that." Julian paused, taking a draw from his coffee cup. "Wickedly twisted sense of humor. Between family andthe Corps, I'd say she comes by it honest." "You know her?" Beresford smirked over the top of his drink. "She works for me at Headquarters." "Then I suppose this is the part where you get all'papa bear' on me?" "Ha! Hardly. If Gunny thought I was fighting her battles for her, I'd be down on my arse so fast, my head would spin." The senior major chuckled. "No, I think you're a smart guy and Genna can fend very well on her own." Kent studied the placid expression across his features, a knowing smile creeping across his own. "But if I hurt her, you'll kill me?" "No, no; nothing quite so messy. But assignment to a far-flung outpost might work." Mischief glinted in his eyes. Jamie laughed. "Message received, Major." He drained the last of his coffee, then made a three-point shot with the empty cup. "I've gotta jet – meeting a friend for lunch. Care to join us at thepub tonight?" Beresford pursed his lips, considering a moment before nodding. With Tory somewhere between Earth and the Gamma Quadrant, he found his social calendar abruptly empty. "What time?" "Eh, 'round eight or nine. Clay gets a bit longwinded." "Eight-thirty it is, then." Julian raised his cup in salute. "Cheers." Kent grinned. Rising, he placed the chair back at the table beside them. "Cheers!" Julian watched for a moment as the younger officer wove his way through the crowds. If Major Kent's friends were anything like Major Kent, Beresford couldn't help but think he was in for an interesting night. ***
  5. Adoring Public ENS Victoria Knight MAJ Julian de Beresford (NPC) John Knight (NPC) **** Note: Takes place just shy of a year prior to Tory joining Republic. **** As a cadet, Victoria Knight reflected, she had a different uniform for every whim of the Commandant: The Class "A," a reddish-orange dress uniform that carried through in slightly modified form from the fabled days of Kirk and McCoy. Then there was the Class "B," a boring cut of gray worsted wool, designed for every day wear; dress uniforms for visiting guests; and dinner dress for graduation. Crawling around through the Jeffries tubes aboard the training ships, she wore coveralls, alternatively known as "poopy suits," a crass name that dated back to the blue water navies. And the less said about the physical training gear, the better, she thought. Standing before the full length mirror in her suite, Tory couldn't help but think she'd taken a step up. The Starfleet dress uniform – a tailored black tunic, department indicated by a colored undershirt – was an improvement on them all. The customized fit was more flattering than the grays had been and the splash of blue around the neck and shoulders contrasted well with the russet tones in her shoulder length hair. It made her look official. It made her feel official. That, she discovered, was worth a lot today. A low whistle behind her broke her reverie. Brow furrowed, she glanced into the mirror, finding a familiar form in the reflection: Marine Captain Julian de Beresford. A lopsided grin slid across his lips as they made eye contact, eyes twinkling. "I'd always heard women swoon for a man in uniform," he commented. "I think now I understand the attraction." Tory felt warmth crawl across her cheeks despite herself. She allowed her gaze to visibly trace the familiar lines of his dress uniform – shoulders, torso, trousers, polished boots – before meeting his eyes once again. On the way back up, she noted the glint of fresh gold on the Prussian collar. "You're looking rather smart yourself, Major." Beresford's grin broadened into a smile. He made a show of tugging down at his sleeves as he approached her. "You noticed." "A girl always notices jewelry." "Gender stereotypes?" The major asked, brows raised. "I expected much more from you, Miss Knight." "Well, this girl always notices jewelry – at least jewelry that has been deservedly bestowed on a friend," Tory replied with a smirk. "And that's Ensign Knight, now." Julian took a step closer, eyes still alight with mischief as their banter continued. "I must say, that's going to take some getting used to," he said. Shuffling closer herself, Tory tilted her chin up, adjusting her gaze to maintain eye contact. She could feel the warmth radiating off his body. "You've no one to blame but yourself, you know; they should have you assigned to recruiting command." "Too much paperwork." His lips twitched and then the impish gleam in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by something more somber. "It's going to be very dull around here without you." Tory gave a wry smile. Her right hand came to rest against his chest, fingers brushing the old fashioned gold buttons. "And it's going to be dreadfully dull over there without you." "I think perhaps," Beresford began, covering her hand with his own, "I did my job a touch too well." "Perhaps." Victoria stacked her left hand atop his. "But how could I choose otherwise, when presented with such a stunning package?" Julian barked a laugh. "Oh-ho! So it was the uniform!" "I refuse to answer on the grounds that I might incriminate myself." Still smiling, the major placed his free hand against her shoulder and drew her closer. "Your blush incriminates you more than enough, Miss Knight." "And there are other parts of your anatomy, Major de Beresford, that incriminate you." Tory returned his smile. "Unless that's your sidearm." "This is a quiet party, among friends," he said. His voice had dropped considerably, the syllables rumbling through his chest; his hand came to rest against her hip. "I'm unarmed." "All evidence to the contrary." The sound of a soft "ahem" halted any response from Beresford. They parted, turning and looking toward the door. Her uncle and former guardian, John Knight, stepped into the suite, offering a sheepish smile. "My apologies." Julian offered his courtesy smile – one that told Tory he was less than thrilled with the interruption. "Not at all," he said, extending his hand. "Excellent to see you again." The elder Knight took the offered hand and pumped it once, firmly. "And you... Major now, is it?" "It is, indeed." "Congratulations, sir," Uncle John replied. He offered a taut smile, then turned his attention on his niece. "And how are you? Ready to meet your adoring public?" I could really do without the adoring public, Tory thought, but kept silent. Her uncle had gone to a great deal of trouble to arrange this dual-purpose commissioning-going-away party, and she had no desire to hurt the feelings of a very dear man. Aloud she simply said, "As ready as I'm going to be," and gave a smile. "Well, then, Major, if you'll do the honors, I'll go and get their attention." Beresford bowed formally. "At your command, sir." Chuckling, both he and Tory watched as John Knight shook his head and then disappeared back around the corner. The major then offered Tory his arm. "Shall we, Miss Knight?" Victoria hooked her arm in his. "We shall, Major de Beresford." **** Applause and jests greeted them as Tory and Julian made their way down the sweeping staircase in the center of the old British estate house. Familiar faces beamed with smiles, warming Tory with their sincerity, and putting her a bit more at ease. She stood with Julian on the third step, both waiting a long moment for the enthusiasm to quiet. It was then her uncle continued. "As many of you know, I was less than thrilled when our Tory announced to me that she had enrolled in officer candidate training with Starfleet," Sir John said. "I thought, perhaps, she had been swept away by the attentions of a rather dashing man in uniform." Beresford reached up, covering her hand with his own as it rest on his forearm. "It has been known to happen, Sir John," he replied. Chuckles twittered through the room. "But I think our Tory has better sense than that." "Indeed, Major, she does," the elder Knight continued, "and the long, emotional conversation that followed certainly brought home that point. I was, you see, still thinking about my favorite niece as a little girl – and she's not so little any more. The time has come for her to find her own way. Part of that path will now take her to Starfleet and – hopefully – an illustrious career." Sir John turned to his niece, blue eyes suspiciously glassy. "I think your Mum and Da would be proud of you today, Tory; as a matter of fact, I know they would be because I am. The places you'll go, the things you'll see – it will all shape you and provide you with experiences many of us can only imagine. And I'll be waiting here, ready to welcome you home, whenever you're ready to return." Tory felt her breath catch in her throat, her own eyes watering. It was only through stern self control that she refrained from crying, even as she hugged her uncle, guardian, and second father. "Thank you, Uncle John," she whispered. "Always, love; always." He offered a watery smile as he drew back. He then squeezed her hand, pausing as he regained his own composure. His attention shifted toward Julian. "And now I'd like to introduce Major Julian de Beresford, Starfleet Marine Corps. "Julian came to Knight Technologies some four years ago, still a captain then, assigned to offer insight into what our men and women along the frontlines need to do their jobs safely and efficiently. His knowledge, experience, and wit have certainly endeared him to us, and I'm very honoured to count him among our friends. As a friend, Tory has asked Major de Beresford to pin her on this evening." Julian stepped back and Tory immediately felt at a loss; her smile never wavered. She stood watching, her attention fixed – like everyone else – on the man in the uniform. He reached into his pocket and produced one small, gold pip. As she turned to face him, she could not miss the intensity in his eyes. She was only glad it was not immediately visible to those in their audience. "Tory, in the past year, you've shown remarkable determination in pursuit of your goal. You're brilliant, witty, and I have to say you'd make one Hell of a Marine. It's somewhat disappointing to be pinning on this pip instead of first lieutenant bars," he said with a smirk. The comment was met with chuckles. From the throaty nature of his voice Tory recognized it for what it was – his attempt to lighten the mood between them. As his fingertips brushed the skin at her neck, she knew his attempt had failed; it took the last vestiges of her self-control not to react. He bit his bottom lip, looking for all the world as though he were having difficulty with the small back of the pip. His eyes, however, glinted with wicked humor. Tory cut him a glare that was at once threatening and suggestive. The blackguard was doing it on purpose! Payback, she thought, was going to be fun...if she didn't kill him first. Finally closing the back on the pip, Julian leaned forward and planted a kiss to her left cheek, lips lingering for only a beat longer than necessary. "Congratulations, Ensign Knight," he said. "Thank you, Major de Beresford," she replied. She gave him a trademark smile, reiterating her threat, then turned a very different, family friendly smile back onto her gathered friends and relatives. "I know this isn't what many of you expected of me – it's certainly not a turn I expected myself. But I see here opportunities to serve, and to learn and to grow that I could never have, even as CEO of Knight Technologies. "I thank you all for your love and your support" – she looked over the crowd, to her Uncle John, to Beresford – "and your patience with me over the past year. And, while I realize that my orders take me across distant shores, I will at least be on the same planet. Through the power of transporter technology, I really hope to reconnect with each of you, now that I should have a little more time to myself." She chuckled, giving a rueful smile. "I thank you, too, for coming this evening. Now, please – tuck in to all the good food Uncle John has been so kind to provide and be sure to make a large enough dent in his liquor collection that he has an excuse to buy more." Applause rippled through the gathered crowd who then began to disperse toward the living rooms. Tory found Beresford smirking at her when she whirled back to him. "Am I in trouble?" he asked. "You have no idea," the ensign answered. She couldn't keep the wry tone from her words. "As much fun as it will be to find out," Julian said, stepping closer and dropping his voice, "I'd suggest we make the rounds before we disappear. You are, after all, the guest of honor, my dear." He grinned, offering her his arm. "Shall we?" Tory narrowed her eyes at him, pausing a long moment before hooking her arm in his. "One thing." "And what's that?" "Never call me 'my dear' again." "Of course... my dear." Jerking her elbow back, the ensign made solid contact with Beresford's ribs. He bit back a yelp, giving a start. Tory maintained a smile. The major offered his own matching smile as he tightened his grip on her forearm and pulled her closer, clucking his tongue by her ear. "Such insubordinate behaviour, my dear." They moved closer to a knot of people that included her maternal aunt, Adela, and Adela's step-daughter, Cecily. "Mind your manners, Ensign." "Of course, Major." The tug of war, she thought, was going to make it a very long, very interesting evening.
  6. Name: Victoria Margaret Elizabeth Knight Rank: Lieutenant (LT) DOB: 1 April Chelsea, Great Britain Earth Age: 27 Parents: Richard and Eleanor Knight (deceased) Current Duty Station: USS Republic, Chief of Sciences Education The New Johns Hopkins University Bachelor of Science, Physics (BSc) Masters, Business Administration (MBA) Starfleet Academy Officer Candidate Master of Science, Information Management (MSc) Personal History The eldest daughter of Knight Technologies chief executive Richard Knight, and his wife, Eleanor, Victoria Knight arrived a full three weeks earlier than doctors predicted – on April Fool's Day. This fact became something of a running joke throughout her life, and, some say, resulted in a very wry, mischievous sense of humor. It was this sense of humor which helped her survive the "unending boredom" of boarding school as a young girl. Despite this distance, Tory, as she is known to family and friends, was very close to her mother and father. Her father particularly doted on her, frequently taking her in to work with him, and allowing her to follow him through his day. Not only did this allow a closer bond between father and daughter, but also permitted Tory a great education: Knight Technologies was – and continues to be – known for their scientific contributions to exploration and development. At the age of fifteen, however, both Richard and Eleanor were killed in a transport accident. Victoria and control of Knight Technologies were passed to the care of her uncle, John Knight. Under her uncle's care, Tory directed her attention to her academic studies, and excelled in school. She eventually enrolled in the Physics program at The New Johns Hopkins University, in North America. From there, with an eye to eventually running Knight Tech on her own, she completed her Masters in Business Administration. It was during this time that she met Captain Julian de Beresford. An officer in the elite Marine Reconnaissance Unit, de Beresford was detailed to provide expertise to Knight Technologies, as the company developed a new project supporting Recon operations. Possessed of a similar dry wit, Tory and Beresford became fast friends – more if rumours are to be believed. Through his influence, she eventually enrolled as an officer candidate at Starfleet Academy. Psychological Profile Summary Statement: Victoria Knight is an engaging young woman, with a great deal of intelligence and razor-sharp wit. She frequently treads a fine line of wry indifference that I can only attribute the continual family joke concerning her birthday. That being said, she is a dedicated officer, well-trained and well-educated for the duties ahead. Emilia Hanson, Ph.D. Counselor Starfleet Academy