Posted by Lieutenant Commander Peter Sigmundsson (Chief Intelligence Officer) in CIO’s Office

Posted by Civilian Kara Nakuto (Civilian, Former CO) in CIO’s Office

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Peter Sigmundsson (Chief Intelligence Officer) in CIO’s Office
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Snip
Peter smiled at his old Commander and friend. It was nice to have the support of a friend, especially during times like these “Yes mostly, I’ve been keeping to myself more or less. There was an incident on the bridge during our last mission with a junior Engineer with a certain disdain for strangers and following orders. Most of my old colleagues have already left but some of the old Security Staff remains, it’s how I stay apprised of most of the comings and goings on the ship. Junior officers that remember me fondly.” He took another, larger sip from his Bloodwine “You know since you’re back and all I have a little treat” He put the empty glass down and reached again into his secret compartment and picked a flask of blue liquid “My uncle got a shipload of these during the war when the embargo was lifted. Very hard to get a proper Romulan ale these days.” He leaned down and grabbed two small clear glasses and poured “I find a single glass of chilled Rommie Ale a good cleanser after a glass of Bloodwine”

Peter Sigmundsson

She nodded as she reached for the offered glass. “A rare treat indeed, Peter. Thank you.”

Two battle-weary officers, attempting to wash away years of pain and trauma with the ritual of shared alcohol. She was reminded, in that moment, of the war. As a low ranking member of a Klingon combat team, Kara Nakuto had seen herself deployed amongst the ruins of Cardassia Prime - initially fighting against the native Cardassians but then, in the final days when the Founders delivered their ultimate betrayal, by their side. Back then, she had been little more than cannon fodder for the Jem’Hadar. But amongst the slaughter and the loss of so many of her countrymen, she had been blessed with the ultimate reward, something she had spent her entire life, up to that point, striving to earn - the complete acceptance and respect of the pureblood Klingons.

Swallowing the ale, Kara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and for a moment savoured the warming sensation of the alcohol in silence. Then suddenly she got to her feet and, facing Sigmundsson she declared, “I am yet to see if my quarters have remained unchanged since my disappearance. I wonder if you would accompany me, Peter?”
Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “Although if you agree to do so, I would suggest that you arm yourself, perhaps with that shashka there. The last time I was in my quarters it…well, it is not without good reason that I have delayed returning there.”

Kara Nakuto

Peter downed his drink before rising from his seat “By all means lead the way” He put the glass down, closed the bottle and put it and the sword back into the compartment and locked it “I’ve been armed for most every waking moment of my life since the liberation of Betazed. Can’t sleep right without weapons anymore really…” He walked to the door “Although let’s hope that there will be no need.” As the door opened he chuckled “I threw a knife at the wall in the ready room during my first meeting with Captain Ravenfall. Not my best introduction of all time.”

Peter Sigmundsson

“Oh, that sounds like an average day around here,” Nakuto laughed, stepping into the corridor.

Silence. Darkness. It emanated from every corner and consumed everything that it touched. She could still remember the layout of the ship as if it was tattooed on the back of her hand…presuming the corridors had not shifted. Setting off in the direction of the nearest turbolift, the half-Klingon’s pace was brisk and determined. No call to linger along the way. She had no desire to become lost again.

“When I first came here,” she made idle conversation in an attempt to repel the eerie quiet, “I thought we could fix all of this.” One hand swept in a semi-circle around her to encompass within ‘this’ the failing light, the creaking walls and those unpredictable cold spots and areas where the gravity was just…off.
“But I soon learned that it was a fool’s errand.”

She paused, turned to face Peter head on.
“Do you believe that ships can have personalities, Lieutenant Commander? As an engineer my entire faith was built upon machinery and mechanisms, warp cores and plasma conduits, matrices and binary coding. All vital and yet…inanimate all the same. But this is no unthinking, unfeeling hunk of tritanium and duranium alloys. It lives. It exists. And it takes great delight in working constantly against us.”

Did her words sound foolish? The rantings of a lunatic who had spent too long trapped in the solitary expanse of the abyss? There was a time when she had cared deeply about her reputation, strove valiantly to present an appearance of bravery and control. But while her year in the dark had destroyed everything within her, so too had it taught her of her true purpose. Her destiny. To protect every man and woman onboard from the Viking itself.

“I like to think so yes, atleast when I worked Tactical every ship has a different feel, no matter how much they try to make them more similar” He said as he followed his former Captain.

They reached the turbolift finally and Kara jabbed at the button with her thumb, her mind drowning momentarily in replayed images of Commander Weir, trapped in one such turbolift while that unnatural and deformed creature had torn the capsule apart from the outside in.

Was Peter already a believer? Had he seen and felt of his own accord those things that his mind screamed impossible? Or did he yet, just like her once upon a time, blame conduits and circuitry for the oppressive atmosphere on the ship?

She laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. “What do people do for fun on the Viking these days?” A concept almost wholly unfamiliar to her now, although something in the CIO’s manner told her that he might welcome a little fun, no matter how rare or transient the event proved to be.

Kara Nakuto

He looked down at the woman with an odd expression before chuckling “heh, well I’m not entirely sure. Only thing I ever did here was have a few drinks in 12 Forward then finish a bottle in my quarters.” He leaned against the side of the lift “I think some of the junior officers occasionally have parties in their quarters but nothing too major. When I arrived here a few months ago there wasn’t a lot of cheer going on here. Not fully manned nor supplied plus some tough missions. And far as I can tell people don’t trust the Holodeck all too much but I haven’t had time to check it out.” He crossed his arms “They do things differently under you?”

Peter Sigmundsson

Stepping into the narrow confines of the turbolift beside Sigmundsson, Kara ordered their destination as deck 13. A brief glance was directed up to the man at her side. Was he familiar with the standard layout of a Viking-class starship? Did he note that her destination was not the usual location for a commanding officers quarters? For the second time that day, she found herself silently praying that Ravenfall had not assigned herself the designated Captain’s rooms. Not that the alternative had turned out any better…

“We made a decision to ignore the assigned crew placements under my command,” she decided to head off any questions before they could be asked. “On a ship this large and this empty, it seemed foolish to cram junior officers into double-occupancy rooms when there was so much other space available. Although I know some still preferred the company of a roommate…for safety.”

The half-Klingon shrugged. It had always been her hope that the crew would snatch every small comfort available whenever they could. Gods knew there was little made available to them. Although comfort had not been part of her own reasoning for swapping quarters. But that was a tale not ready to be shared just yet.

“I recall that some of them got quite creative with the limited resources on offer. There was more than one drinking den established on the lower decks and even, I believe, something called a nightclub.” She laughed, the sound reverberating loudly around the small and otherwise silent space.
“And our Security chief at the time replaced her dining area with a steam room. Maj had…”

Maj. Too painful to think of her still. The Betazoid had not yet escaped the void in Nakuto’s own wake. She remained out there. Lost and alone. And suffering.

One brief and singular cry burst forth from her lips, her hand clasping to her forehead as she attempted to wrestle back control. Clearing her throat bought her precious seconds as she once again dared a glance towards the CIO, before rescue came in the form of a digital chime to announce that they had arrived.

The doors parted to reveal a visage of almost complete darkness, a chain of red emergency led’s along the floor the only illumination. Kara stepped out into the gloom and defiantly chose her direction.
“This way.”

Whispers seemed to emanate from the very walls themselves, swelling to a chorus as the pair passed by. Her compulsion to drown them out was immediate.

“You are wise to avoid the holodecks,” she stated, her tone attempting a brevity that fell just out of reach. “There have been several…incidents with safety protocols failing. As for how things were done under me, I am presuming the current command team no longer encourages use of the thunderdome?” She laughed despite their current surroundings. “No. I doubt Starfleet would have looked too favourably on an arena where the Captain encouraged physical combat between her crew. But I found it…useful to build up their strength. To give them something tangible to pour all of their fears and frustrations into. To prepare them for battle.”

Kara Nakuto