driftfleet | let us bow our heads

let us bow our heads

[it may be too optimistic to hope that it has something to do with respect, but Atroma has been very quiet. in the wake of the growing stillness on the Iskaulit, neither of the fleet's hosts have broken the peace with their chipper voices.

if the passengers are being watched as closely as they always claim, it is being done in silence.

whether or not the remainder of the living bugs are being kept somewhere for observation, and regardless of the fact that the discussion of what to ultimately do with the ship is still ongoing, it has been generally agreed that something respectful should be done with the dead, and that the remaining spores should be washed away.

so, this will all be done through a combined effort of vacuum and fire, and the time for this purge has been set.

feet on the ground are needed to prepare the foreign ship for purging--securing anything that could be damaged, and safely packing away delicate data-storing instruments and anything belonging to the fleet itself. anyone willing to help could surely find something to do.

and for anyone wishing to bless, reflect, honor, or pray... now is the time to do so. whether aboard the Iskaulit itself before the purge, offering a voice over the network, or simply watching from nearby shuttles and ships, this is the fleet's moment to help send off the crew of the Iskaulit with dignity.]

ooc: this is the final IC mod post for June! the purge itself will be implied for the most part, but anyone with skills in mechanics or fire-controlling may assume they were involved.

this post specifically is for any interactive threads involved in the final days before the Iskaulit is cleaned, and anything funerary, including broadcasts. even if you just want to put up a closed comment describing what private way your character is taking part in this makeshift 'ceremony,' go for it.

an OOC post summarizing and officially wrapping up the rest of June will go up as soon as we're able.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Not sweet. Just... you're very good, artistically.

[The mention of engineers has him lifting his hand to his neck, feeling the tiny spot where the implant sits.]

No, I'm fine with it all. It's awful, and I wish I could've done more to help, but I don't carry the weight of guilt that a lot of people are.

How are you?

[More blushing. She has no idea how to respond to this other than:] Thanks.

[Wrath nods. It's good he doesn't feel guilty. There isn't anything else they could have done from what she's seen. What's happened isn't their fault, and they're doing their best in a shitty situation.

She's just known a lot of people who have been destroyed by not letting that go.]

I'm okay. I mean, some things hit close to home but that's why I do stuff like this. [She nods toward the art display. It's the thing that's important to her, the memory of it.]

And Dr. Crusher fixed my back up, so that's been good. Haven't done anything really dumb lately, just been working.

Edited (Just wanted to fix my html since I had a minute) 2015-07-03 06:45 (UTC)

[If he had been here from the outset, maybe there would be guilt. There would almost certainly be guilt. But he wasn't, so he didn't feel it.]

I didn't realise your back was troubling you. Still, Dr Crusher is one of the foremost medical professionals in the Federation, in my opinion, you couldn't be in safer hands.

My back's what got me turfed out of the army. It regrew all fucked to hell and it's... bad. But yeah... she's definitely really good. She said she can...

[It's still too weird to even think about all of this, and too fraught. She's still so angry and confused, trying to figure out how much was knowing lies, how much was just people passing along bullshit.]

She can remove the ports, because that's what messing everything up. But not right away. Still, good to know the future's bright, right? I can look forward to being useful again. Everyone at home said it couldn't be fixed at all.

Ports? You have implants in your spine?

[Julian's worked a lot on nervous systems and spines. What he's hearing isn't making him happy.]

Would you let me look over your medical data, from Dr Crusher? I might be able to offer additional advice. And a person's use isn't from a functional spine. Your back hasn't stopped you from making beautiful art, has it?

Well, yeah. Everyone does. Back home, I mean.

[She lifts up her hair to reveal the top port at the base of her skull. Even a quick inspection would indicate that it's been damaged, bent and the metal badly scratched.]

They're supposed to protect you from the dysthrophe.

[She closes her eyes for a moment. it's so easy to just say that again and again, like it's muscle memory. She hates it, now.] Dr. Crushes says she doesn't think that's what they're for, though.

[She huffs a laugh.]

I was a soldier, Julian. I was good at my job.

[Julian isn't good at hiding his reactions. He gasps and there's a touch of disbelieving horror to it, that someone could do this to another person.]

Oh, you poor woman.

[He reaches out and just stops himself touching.] I'm sorry, I shouldn't just touch. It's a terrible habit.

But your sole 'use' isn't as a soldier. I can understand wanting to go back to your job but... you're more than that.

[She hesitates, then says:] You can touch it if you want. I know you're a doctor and that's the kind of thing doctors do. [In other words, she can be pretty sure he doesn't mean anything more intimate by it. She keeps her hair held out of the way in case he does. She doesn't like feeling like an object so much, but... that's the way doctors are. She's used to being poked and prodded.]

That's really sweet of you to say, but you also barely know me. [She smiles though, since she doesn't mean that in a rude way.] I guess, it's something I hear a lot. But it also just sometimes sounds like people feeling sorry for me. Which you don't have to do, I'm tough as hell.

Not if I want. If you want.

[He's had experiences with having people take control of his body and decisions about it. It's not fun.]

And here... I have an engineering implant. I guess I'm not a doctor here.

I'm not sorry for you. I'm sorry you've suffered, but that's not the same thing, I promise you.

[That's actually a much more fraught thing than he realizes. Wrath is so bad at dealing with people, she knows it. And she has a little crush on him, but she knows she's bad at people and doesn't want to fuck it up. And for sure, telling someone to just like... mess with your ports without telling them how it was kind of a thing would also be gross.

Well, her default is to just say what she thinks. It's easier that way.] I don't think I'd mind. But that would be because I like you, not because you're a doctor.

Unless they put everything you know about being a doctor down a memory hole, I think you're still a doctor. You're damn smart. So you get to be an engineer and a doctor.

I guess... I just feel weird about people feeling that way, you know? It was my job. [You get hurt, you get killed so civilians--does Julian count as a civilian?--don't.] So I don't really know how to react.

]His smile is pleased and slightly bashful and definitely a hint of shy and yes, outright happy to be told that it's him, not just his qualifications that are trusted.]

Thank you. Most people trust my qualifications despite me.

I can stop, if you want, but I can't help but think that any person is much more than just their job. And that includes you.

[Well gosh, Julian, she kind of wants to get into your pants, not your qualifications' pants.]

Why? You're really nice. And kind. [And really, really smart.] And you have a cute smile.

I think... you're right? [She'd tried to explain it to Levi, once, and still doesn't have a good way of describing it.] Like... I think I'd say the same things as you, in your shoes. People matter.

But I also know that I don't really matter. Because only the mission matters. [And when you don't have a mission any more...] I'll... figure it out eventually.

I'm, well, phrases like arrogant, condescending... inexperienced. Insufferable, that one came up a lot. Naive.

[Congrats, Wrath, you get that shy smile again.]

Um, thank you.... hang on, what?

No, no no. Everyone matters. Every person matters. That includes you, I promise. And I'm sure Dr Crusher would agree with me.

[Are you going to disagree with two of Starfleet medical's best and brightest?]

What? You're not any of those things. [At least not that she's seen. Though technically some of those are words that could have been applied to her first and only boyfriend too, and she never noticed then, either. If nothing else, it's hard to feel condescended too when you don't feel like you know anything for certain.

She finally lets her hair fall back down over her neck, since that no longer seems to be a point of interest.] There must be a lot of assholes around where you're from, I guess.

[Who could say such mean things to someone with that cute of a smile? WHO?]

I know she would. You're both really kind. And smart.

[It's frustrating, and she doesn't know how else to explain it. There are just things that she knows. They're ever present, difficult to skirt around. Liquid water is wet. Gravity pulls toward the center of mass. Only the mission matters.]

Levi said maybe it's just the way I am. [Shrug.] Everyone's got stuff they're dumb about.

No, no, they're not... this? This isn't the usual me, I suppose. Or the me they met originally.

[Because it's been five years, but his crew still see the same awkward, too young, too earnest and condescending doctor that arrived on the newly christened station.]

We are, we're both brilliant. So between us, we'll get you back into healthy shape and not in pain anymore. That's a good start to aim for.

Not the usual you? [Squint.] Oh. Yeah. People do change. And sometimes it's hard to remember that, I guess?

[Has she changed? She's not sure. She can't remember ever being different.] Well, you're good now. Very likable. Someone I think should definitely ask me out for a drink and stuff. [Firm nod.]

That would be... it would be really good. Like, I'm not a pussy about pain or anything. [This is very important. She is tough. This should not be forgotten.] But it definitely makes me less effective at pretty much everything. And even if I can totally handle things hurting, it's not fun.

So yeah. That would be... amazing. Weird... [She reaches back to touch the port at the base of her skull, trying to imagine what it would be like without that there. Would she feel like her any more? But if Dr. Crusher was right, and the ports were the reason she has giant holes in her memory...

She clears her throat. Steady there, Wrath.] ...but really amazing.

I was in a prisoner of war camp for... a while. A month or so. I suppose it's changed me. I couldn't tell you how, someone who knew me before would be a much better judge.

[He gives her a slight smile.] All right, next time we're somewhere that has a bar, would you like to come and get a drink and maybe a decent meal with me? Something that isn't gelatinous, flavoured cubes?

[He'll address the pain issues soon. He wants to give her a chance to respond first.]

Oh... that sucks a lot. Can you sleep okay? [Sleep was the first thing to go for her people, when they got in the shit.] And yeah, it will have changed you. That kind of stuff leaves a mark. And that's okay.

[She reaches out to take his hand but stops just short, waiting for permission. She knows better than to just touch someone who's been in the shit without making sure they're okay with it. Even she gets really wound up about that, sometimes, and startles really badly.]

Yes, I'd like that a lot. But you might have to settle for protein cubes or rat bars if we don't find somewhere decent soon. Don't want to miss your opportunity, you know.

I'm fine, really, it wasn't that bad. Mostly just terrible food and never enough heating. It's not like we were starved or beaten daily.

[And Tain.

He catches the movement after a moment and gives a slight nod. He doesn't mind being touched, at all.]

Am I likely to miss my chance?

[After that little nod, she takes his hand, curling her fingers around his. She's got quite small hands, of course, but very strong.]

I'm glad it wasn't worse. But being a prisoner is being a prisoner. [So you don't have to downplay it.]

Mmm, probably not. But I'm pretty impatient. I tend to go for the direct attack. [And by attack, she doesn't mean attack. In this case.] Can't help it. MI is a bunch of meat heads.

[His hands are much like the rest of him, long, lean, but fairly soft from years of medical work and study.

He squeezes her hand softly and relaxes a little at the contact.] I was valuable to my cellmates, with my medical training. They looked after me.

MI... military intelligence?

[Yes, she might like to get to know those hands better. Wrath's got some odd callouses, thanks to years of sword work. Surprisingly, no scars.

She gives his hand a little squeeze back, and can't help but smile.] I'm glad to hear that, then.

[Not going to push. You don't drag other people's demons, however big or small, out into the light. It's not your place.]

What? No. Definitely not smart or sneaky enough to be a professional weasel. Mobile infantry. I was in Ghost Wolf Company. Ran the close combat specialist platoon.

[Not surprising to a man who comes from a world with dermal generators.

And he appreciates her letting him keep his time to himself. He doesn't know if he could discuss it yet, without feeling like he's over dramatising it. Maybe with Garak... or maybe not.]

Mobile infantry, close combat. Which sort of weapons does that entail?

We didn't have the resources for heavy armored vehicles, so we went light and fast instead. Hovercycles. So you can do small arms with that, shotguns, but I never could shoot for shit. Better, though, we had these custom builds, blades with live plasma arcs in them. Get one of those heated up and you can cut through any conventional armor plating and burn out high end composites.

[Grin.]

Called 'em tank cutters. My favorite trick was taking the barrel for the main armament off the takes, just run in, jump onto the thing, and one slice, you're done. It's a fucking rush and a half.

[Julian listens attentively, nodding and getting it, but having trouble imagining it. Despite the fact they were heading to all out war, he still lacks any real experience with combat of that nature. He knows starship fights... but it's a world of difference.]

You love being a soldier.

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