Posted by Commander D’Vash Odinson (Chief Intelligence Officer) in The Psychology of the Wee-Folk

Posted by Civilian Cara Esmé O’Farrell (Counselor / Education Specialist) in The Psychology of the Wee-Folk
The shuttle landed with a soft thud inside the shuttle bay. Cara breathed, a hand pressed to her stomach. The pilot, finding her space sickness at warp hilarious had dropped to impulse at the last possible moment before they would have over shot the Atlantis. Cara really hoped that warp travel in a large ship was better than the transports she was used to. “There ya go Lt. safe and sound. See nothing to it.”

“Aye lad I see that. If it was possible ye’d be chasin’ a wee leprechaun around space for his gold.” Of course such myths weren’t true but since leprechauns tended to play horrible jokes on the mortal folk she wished one on the cocky pilot. She moved out the hatch and breathed the only slightly less stale air of the mythology class ship she’d been assigned to. She passed a copper haired woman, who was boarding the shuttle after saying her good byes. The woman stopped and smiled behind a great deal of sadness and frustration. “You must be the new counselor. I’m Runa Edman. I left plenty of notes for you, but you’re welcome to contact me, or my sister. She was the counselor before me. I wish we had more time, but I have to make my next transport.” The woman shook her hand, wished her good luck and disappeared into the shuttle. And soon teasing laughter could be heard as the woman bantered with the two pilots, and it soon had departed.

Cara shook her head, it took all kinds. “Lad don’t you DARE toss that tote,” she walked down a poor frazzled ops officer who was trying to move containers as quick as he could toss them. “Ya wonna make any friends tossin’ folks stuff around like that.” Cara tossed her long hair over a shoulder and took the tote from him and set it aside. “Ya look frazzled, lad, the ship stay that busy?” The young man shook his head and just stared at the woman, eyes wide and the cat hanging form his tongue. Cara bit back a laugh. “Where’s the chief?” Cara meant the ops chief so she could get her arrival checked off. The young man pointed behind her and scrambled back to work. She turned around to find the indicated person. Stopping, closing her eyes, and swallowing against the sick stomach churning feeling of the ship going to warp.

Lt O’Farrell

D’vash had stayed by the door to the shuttle bay after seeing Runa off. It had been a bittersweet goodbye. Things had proceeded quite quickly with Runa after he found out that both Runa and Revna were aboard the Atlantis. The night the two of them had spent together was magical, unfortunately, it was only to be a one-time encounter.

Still, D’vash had no regrets. He had known the twins since they were children and finally he had gotten to know Runa intimately, but alas, a future together was not meant to be . . .at least not at this time.

He watched Runa enter the shuttle as the comely redhead exited. He smiled as she gave the crewman a tongue lashing and then chuckled as she tried to push back the space sickness.

From the doorway, he spoke. “It goes away after a few days. Before you know it, you won’t even be able to tell whether we’re moving at warp or impulse. Until that time, though, make sure you stop at Sickbay. One of the doctors can hook you up with something to make you less nauseous.”

Odinson (CIO)

Cara swallowed, waiting for the subtle jerk to cruising that came once a ship reached the designated speed. She picked up a messenger bag and slung it over her shoulder before the harried ops ensign tossed it too. She glanced up and over at the man standing in the door way, a playful smirk crossing her face. “Really, lad? I had no idea doctors could do such a thin’. 8 years o’ service and I never knew that.” Any accidental harshness her words might have caused were easily dismissed by the noticeable Irish lilt to her voice. She turned back to the ops chief, who had finally decided to show up, and she had a very long argument with him over the fact that the 8 crates marked “enlisted mess” were in fact FOR the mess and not hers.

“I tell you what Lt O’Farrell, if my boys get it wrong, you just give me a call, and I’ll come and personally take care of it for you.” Cara leaned, one forearm flat on the console, the other elbow resting on the edge, chin in hand. “You are just a gentleman, Lt Chambers. That is SO kind. But I’d really rather NOT have consumables going bad in my quarters. Besides, Lad, ya donna need ta resort to such tactics to get a lady’s attention.” She patted his hand, “Maybe ya should come by my office later, and we’ll chat about it.” She grabbed the PaDD he’d been holding onto for the entire conversation, that was in fact for her. She did a quick lithe about face and headed towards the door, scanning the PaDD for where her quarters were supposed to be. She reached into the bag, pulled out a small wrapped piece of ginger candy and popped it in her mouth.

Lt O’Farrell, CNS