Posted by Civilian Kara Nakuto (Civilian, Former CO) in Nakuto’s Quarters
Snip

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Peter Sigmundsson (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Nakuto’s Quarters

Posted by Civilian Kara Nakuto (Civilian, Former CO) in CIO’s Office
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻

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.

Peter stared quietly at the half-Klingon. He recognized that look, the eyes that had seen loss and the sadness that followed. He stayed silent.

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

“Hah, Thunderdome” He laughed at the notion as he carefully scanned the bulkheads with his eyes as they passed “Back on the Curie I just called it Tactical exercises.” He scratched the back of his head “No as far as I know there’s no Thunderdoming here. Besides, I wouldn’t enter just yet. I’m still trying to calm my instincts down, my muscle memory is still stuck in Instant Kill, if you will” He smiled sadly.

Peter Sigmundsson

Reaching out, Kara placed a hand on the CIO’s shoulder, her eyes connecting with his and silently whispering the message; I know. I understand.

Arriving at her intended destination, Kara came to a stop outside a nondescript, uniform door. So calm it appeared from their haven in the corridor. So…innocent.

“A hair-trigger might actually be a benefit on this ship,” she continued aloud. “To be so alert, so hyper-aware of the urgent need for survival and self-preservation. This might not be where you envisaged ending up, Peter. But make no mistake, it is exactly where you need to be. So take all of your pain, all of your grief and anger and focus it. Wield it as a weapon against these things that torment us.”

The door had been sealed, for the safety of the rest of the ship. Kara exerted great effort to stay her hand from trembling as she reached out and punched in her authorisation code.

Had the new Captain seen fit to revoke her privileges on this ship, wasted no time in terminating her level of access to the Viking’s systems then, in that moment, Kara Nakuto might have rejoiced. But as the small LED glowed green she knew that fate had not been so kind and, with a heavy, metallic groan, the door began to slide open.

Pulling a small knife from her boot, Nakuto once more looked up at the man by her side.
“Clear your mind, Peter,” she ordered. “Do not hand it ammunition so easily. Focus only on your own strength, your own courage. Your own mortality.”
No call to voice it aloud, but once more her brown eyes passed a silent communication; There can be nothing on this ship more terrible than that you have already endured.

Then, taking a deep breath, the half-Klingon steeled herself and stepped through the door…

Kara Nakuto

Although he wasn’t certain what to expect or why she feared it so Peter simply did what he was told. A second to breath was all he needed to steel his mind for whatever was to come. His left hand twitched and out of his sleeve fell a short throwing blade, meanwhile, his put his right hand inside his now unzipped jacket and grabbed ahold of his larger knife in its small holster attached to his chest, half unsheathing it. Despite being back on a Starfleet vessel he still felt more comfortable when fully armed.

He followed his former Commander into the room with squinted eyes and steely heart.

Peter Sigmundsson

The room had been destroyed, Kara Nakuto’s belongings torn and shattered and spilled across the space in a million tiny pieces. The tapestries from Qo’nos that once hung proudly in her ready room were scattered across the floor like shredded paper, her books leaving trails of pages in every direction, the furtuture upended and piled high like a ceremonial pyre, its balancing angles in contravention to every known law of physics. Only one item remained unharmed and it glared down at them from the pinnacle of the unnatural furniture pile - the photograph of Kara with her sister, Mirai, the image framed with the pale wood of Aokigahara.

A heavy stillness hung over the entire room, as if the architects of this chaos were not yet satisfied with their work and were merely resting while calculating their next move. Kara hovered at the doorway for an age, brown eyes wide and darting nervously from one corner to the next as if struggling to take it all in. It was, in truth, no less than she had expected. But no easier for such foreknowledge to be faced with visual confirmation of previously intangible fears.

“Wait,” she attempted to halt Sigmundsson with an outstretched hand as she herself took one tentative step into the room. Nothing. It was as if the entire scene was no more than a painting, a fixed and unchangeable tableaux by some demented and desperate artist.

Peter stopped behind her and raised his left hand, turning his body sideways. He was preparing to both launch his blade then himself if neccecary. He wondered what spooked her so much.

No. Behind the mountain of furniture she could detect a faint suggestion of activity. A scratching - as if something was buried deep within and struggling to break free. Another step took her close to the scene, the half-Klingon peering through the gaps between bed and table and chair while being careful to touch nothing.

A shriek. Nakuto stepped back, her knife raised and ready to strike…as a small, grey figure launched into the air then fell quickly back down onto her shoulder.

“Fek’lhr!” Kara cried out, one hand reaching for the wizened grey parrot and allowing it to settle in her palm. “You survived.”

Turning to Peter, she offered an introduction. “We rescued Fek’lhr, along with several other small animals, from the lower decks. A former medical officer had…” she shrugged at her inability to settle on an appropriate description to encapsulate his horrendous crimes, “…gone rogue and decided to make his own laboratory in an abandoned corridor. These animals were his test subjects.”

His discovery had immediately preceeded the appearance of the portal. And while Nakuto remained convinced that the two events possessed no connection, it did mean that she was currently unaware of the doctor’s whereabouts.
“The last I knew, we had him secured in the brig,” she offered.

Fek’lhr clambered up to rest on her shoulder, its one round and glassy eye fixing on Peter.
“Still here,” it croaked from a syrinx almost decimated by months of shrieking. “They are still here.”

Nakuto cast a nervous glance around the otherwise still room, before returning her gaze to the CIO and questioning silently just what in the name of Gre’thor he made of all this.

Kara Nakuto

Peter looked around the room. He’d lowered his left hand and his right had left his jacket. He was no longer holding a knife in either. Japanese designs and Klingon artefacts, Kara truly hadn’t changed much these past years. He moved carefully to the stacked furniture, looking at it with great intensity “What was it that you feared so much, Ca..” He stopped himself and looked back and smiled sofltly “Kara. What haunts you so?”

Peter Sigmundsson