Posted by Lieutenant Drake Marshall (Surgery and Emergency Medicine) in Holodeck 1 - Marshall/Sutalo Dinner

Posted by Lieutenant Kusinut “Ember” Sutalo (Diplomatic Relations Officer) in Holodeck 1 - Marshall/Sutalo Dinner

Posted by Lieutenant Drake Marshall (Surgery and Emergency Medicine) in Holodeck 1 - Marshall/Sutalo Dinner
Posted by… suppressed (12) by the Post Ghost! 👻
[Snip]

“Away.” Ember replied, smoothly. “I don’t want to go back to where I started. I’d rather keep progressing forwards.” She clarified. “I wouldn’t seek another diplomacy job, nor security; they’d be in my past. Perhaps I’d try something new,” she bit her lip in thought, “maybe travel. I’ve got more than enough saved up..I could ditch Starfleet and begin a new chapter in life–exploring whatever’s out there–my people’s history, even.” She shrugged, her sentences fragmented in the spitball effect. “All I know is..I don’t want to spend my life stuck in the same, monotonous cycle like a lot of folks do.”

“What about you?” Ember asked, plucking another wedge from her plate. “Where would you go if Ogawa was no longer an option?”

Ember Sutalo

Drake thought for a moment. “I might leave Starfleet entirely. Find someplace where I can practice medicine with less… bureaucracy everywhere. Start a clinic for difficult cases.” He sat back. “Do some work without senior officers breathing down my neck.”

-Drake Marshall

OOC: Bumping this for myself. Hopefully I’ll get to this by tonight. Thanks for your patience! :)
Trin

“Wouldn’t that be a dream come true?” Ember huffed, rhetorically. “As much as I respect the order and organization of rank, the constant micromanagement is vexing–and that’s from the perspective of a law officer. I couldn’t imagine it from a medical.”

“Oh how my superior officers would love to get rid of me.”

“Would you go back to Earth to start your clinic?” She asked, curiously. Ember knew well the resentment many held for the planet, and yet she found most could not escape the looming sense of home written between the lines.

Ember Sutalo

“Hm.” Drake pondered. “Interesting question. I’m not sure. Probably somewhere central in the quadrant. Fewer people die en route that way. There’s a certain amount of pragmatism required in medicine.” Drake shook his head. “But, I don’t know where I’d be without the work I’ve done here. So, who knows?”

-Drake Marshall

“I suppose you require your patients alive to be able to treat them,” Ember shrugged, “although post-mortem medicine might prove interesting.. If you’re into pathology.”

With the thoughts of the future in mind, Sutalo thought it would be wise to dial down into events that might be closer to their reach. “I don’t know about you, but sitting all evening is not particularly appealing.” She smiled, “Do you want to stay in this pub or shall we change up the scenery a bit?” Ember wasn’t yet sure how or what, but she’d figure something out. If her career had taught her nothing, she at least knew how to conjure ideas from nothing.

Ember Sutalo

Drake smiled and his eyes lit up. “A fine idea.” Rising from his seat, he rounded the table to Ember and offered a hand to help her get up.

“Why thank you.” Ember took his hand, rising up to her feet.

=Alternate to program Marshall 7.= The restaurant faded out of existence and was replaced by Manhattan. “If you have no objections, I think I have an idea.”

-Drake Marshall

“That is one more idea than I’ve got,” she gestured to the holodeck, “let’s see it.” Watching the French atmosphere faded into Manhattan, she figured a change of speed was in order. It was dangerous to keep a slow gait in such a place, where one kept pace with the crowds or risked being trampled by them. Manhattan waits for no-one; a theme strangely similar to life on a Starship. “I have to admit, my curiosity is piqued.”

Ember Sutalo

“I have something to show you.” As they walked along, shops, pedestrians, bright lights, massive skyscrapers, it all took Drake back to his youth.

It was almost foreign to her, the towering buildings that reached their fingers to the sky, but that did not make the sight any less entrancing. “By all means,” She gestured to the abyss of people before them.

“Here.” They had arrived at a relatively small building. Unremarkable in its facade. Drake walked around to the side and pulled at the hinge on an antique fire escape. He ended up just hitting it to make the ladder descend. “Sometimes it requires… delicate persuasion. Follow me, mountain climber.” He started ascending. He seemed stronger than one might expect out of a surgeon. A side effect of his ER days.

“Right,” Sutalo teased. The ladder screeched beneath their weight, its antiquated rungs brittle from years of desolation from human touch. It was almost real; the feeling of the chilled, rusting metal–she nearly forgot they were climbing through a simulated reality.

At the top, the building remained unremarkable. But the entirety of Manhattan and the New York skyline could be seen. “I figured out when I was about 13 that this is about as close to the centre of the city as you can get with a good view. I used to come here when I was in trouble. Which was most of the time.” He pointed to a small stereo. “Preferences?”

-Drake Marshall

Drawn to the edge, Ember’s gaze drifted to the merging skylines. It wasn’t difficult to seperate them from each other, but when she took a step back to appreciate the view, the distance between them slowly fell to the command of the horizon.

“I didn’t realise there were any good views in a city,” Sutalo admitted, “at least, not until I was shown the city of ShiKahr from an aerial perspective.”

“CCR, Guns N’ Roses, The Who.. anything from before the turn of the 21st century.” She was drawn to the beats of times long past. Modern music could not hold her interest in its neoclassical attempts at replicating the legends of the past. “They didn’t do much right in that era, but their music is unforgettable.”

Ember Sutalo

“A woman after mine own heart.” Drake knelt down to the stereo and opened a small box beside it. Inside were chips, each containing an album or playlist. He held one up. “Talking Heads: Stop Making Sense, 1984.” He put the chip in. ‘Psycho Killer’ started playing. Far from romantic music, but if Drake was getting any sense of Ember, more their speed.

-Drake Marshall

“Psycho Killer, only the most romantic of Talking Heads’ musical accomplishments.” Ember tapped her foot to the rhythm; music croaking from a radio and the chill of a Manhattan night reeked of nostalgia to a era neither of them could remember. It left her wondering what it must have been like to live in such simple times, when music meant more than the science of sound.

“I can see why you were up here so often,” she hummed, “out of the way, hard to trace, and a view that could never grow old. It’s the perfect place to avoid reality..and consequences.”

Ember Sutalo

“Don’t answer any calls-“ Drake tossed his combadge over by the speaker “and you can disappear. There’s not much about New York I miss. But this is just a little something.”

-Drake Marshall

“How’d you find it?” Ember folded her arms across her chest, casually protecting herself from Manhattan’s characteristic chill. “It’s quite the place to simple stumble over.”

Ember Sutalo

“You’d be surprised. It was between owners when I first found it. My mother and I had just finished a screaming match about how I ‘didn’t have to be in Starfleet. With my grades, I could go anywhere.’ I hated that speech. So I stormed out. You see that building there?” he pointed to a building that resembled the shard in London. “I lived there. On the 73rd floor. But I just started walking down the street, went into a music store and bought a 3000 credit guitar, despite not knowing how to play yet, and eventually I ended up at a building with no owner and the fire escape ladder down… so I climbed. And here’s my home away from home. I learned to play guitar here, to spite my mother, so that she’d never hear. Lots of stories end here.”

-Drake Marshall

“73rd floor? That’s one way to get over a fear of heights.” Ember followed his gesture to the immense building. Where she hailed from, an establishment of such height would dwarf any building for the next one hundred miles. Here, it seemed nothing more than another stroke in the architectural masterpiece that was the skyline before him. They were from two seperate worlds, separated by three thousand miles. “A story not dissimilar to every other rebellious kid on this planet,” she teased.

“Do you still have the talent for guitar?” She asked, a twinge of hope taunting the edges of her voice.

Ember Sutalo