Ruminations

Posted on Tue Jul 17th, 2012 @ 8:36pm by Commander Sakkath & Lieutenant Norval Tigan

Mission: Sections of the Delta Quadrant
Location: Operations

=^= Operations =^=

Sakkath sat in his office in the center of Ops, the transparent walls doing little more than muffling the sounds of his staff outside as they went about ensuring that 900 was functional. Despite their focus, Sakkath had been peering at one corner of the room for the better part of the hour… and here he believed he kept his office so visible to ensure the productivity of everyone else; rare was the time he felt that it should be motivating him.

But here he was, plucking out chords on the Vulcan lyre set upon his lap, unable to move forward. He had tried playing something to challenge him, one of Delvok’s études, but even that had devolved quickly into random strumming. There was no focus… only memories, some of them not even his own.

So distracted was he that he hadn’t even heard the doors part, nor observed the Trill who leaned against the jamb, watching with the slightest of sad smiles playing on his lips.

“Not exactly the first order of business either of us expected, is it?” Norval asked aloud, finally alerting Sakkath to his presence. The Vulcan ceased his musical musings, looking up as Norval unfolded his arms from across his chest and entered into his department head’s office, the doors sealing behind him.

“Bright new pips on both our uniforms,” the Assistant Chief went on, “a whole new set of responsibilities for you, and here we are… planning a funeral.”

“No,” Sakkath had to admit, setting the lyre back on the small stool he kept next to his desk. It, the kal-toh sphere atop his desk, and the IDIC scroll hanging behind him were the only personal embellishments he allowed himself in this space, but they were all deeply meaningful. They generally helped him to concentrate, but not on this. “It is not at all what I expected.”

“To be fair,” Norval said as he sank into a seat opposite Sakkath, “life with you has been anything but expected.” The Trill lieutenant had a wry grin on his face as he recalled his first involvement with Sakkath in more than a decade. It was, importantly, also the first time he had met Oralia Zeferino, there in the Computer Core on the U.S.S. Berkeley, investigating a murder… and everything with Rhys had followed from there, including a transfer from 900 and then right back.

“Lab practicals with Doctor Brelar at the Science Ministry seemed difficult at the time, back when you and I first met, but compared to what we’ve been through since…” he trailed off, not really having the words. Then, Norval had been fourteen, still held the last name Jast, and was taking classes with a Vulcan – already an Ensign in Starfleet – both readying themselves for careers. And here they were, serving together, the vanguard of a new frontier.

“I remember the first time I met Connor,” Norval went on, rubbing a hand absently over his mouth. He briefly recalled Doctor McKinney being prone to something quite similar. “It was in Oz’s quarters on the Berkeley… and I accused him of doing something horrific.” Norval’s eyes seemed a little glazed over, but regret reflected in them. He had jumped to a terrible conclusion, assuming Dizan Jora had done something horrible enough to deserve separation from his symbiote. In actuality, Connor had saved Jora when Dizan was critically injured. “That man was a hero to my people,” the Trill said, sighing. “He saved a symbiont when the host was beyond help. I… I would want a doctor that could do that, if I were ever in that position,” Norval admitted, fidgeting in his seat. “I would want a surgeon like Connor, who could put Tigan ahead of me. That’s… important for a joined Trill. Our continuity.”

Sakkath nodded along with Norval’s tale, not yet feeling the need to contribute. He wasn’t entirely sure his old friend was done.

“The second time was in the holodeck… I was helping him with a medical program, and he told me he had been at Chin’toka the second time around.” Norval stopped, looking up at Sakkath. “Can you even imagine?” The Trill’s tone was awestruck. “Andam lost limbs to the Dominion in that war,” he said, referencing his most recent host, “but surviving that massacre? It’s no wonder that man was such a good surgeon. He’d come and gone from hell itself.” All the Trill could do was sit and shake his head, reflecting on the past and what life as Doctor Connor McKinney must have been like.

Standing, Sakkath went to the replicator. The use of operational overrides to the replicator was inappropriate in the best of circumstances, but he reasoned they both needed a drink. Real ones.

“Authorization: Sakkath-four-seven-alpha-tango,” he stated, initiating the override that would enable the replicator to generate a beverage not composed of synthehol. “Two Cardassian Sunrises.”

Norval half-chuckled as he accepted the glass from Sakkath, who rejoined him across the desk. “Our last night on the Berkeley.”

“Indeed,” the Vulcan intoned. “It seemed appropriated, given the circumstances,” he said, even as he took a sip… judging the cocktail a touch too sweet for his own tastes. He preferred his Romulan ale.

Norval, for his part, drained half of the brightly-colored concoction in one go. It did perhaps help that he had last had one of these with Connor, and that he and Eric had been out on the lower Promenade levels only a few hours earlier, despite duty shifts.

"I cannot recall the first time I met Doctor McKinney," Sakkath took up the mantle of the conversation, sounding the slightest bit regretful in his tone. His drink swirled absently in his hand. "The memories are vivid... but they are not my own."

Norval remained silent, but he had taken a piqued interest in the Vulcan across from him, waiting for Sakkath to go on.

"You were not yet aboard the Berkeley," he said, "but you may have learned of the shuttle accident even here on 900... Oralia and Connor were en route to us, just out of the safe passage when their shuttle encountered difficulty... they crash-landed on a barren world, the Doctor suffering a brain injury in the process. He still managed to care for our CSec's wounds," he recalled.

Norval let go with another sad smile. "I once toasted him as 'Mr. Hero.' Seems he really did deserve it."

"We almost lost him after that. Oralia managed to keep him talking, and then... Li arrived. She delved into his thoughts, kept him conscious and mentally active until they could get back to Terrell. That's my first memory of Connor, and it isn't even my own, but it does comprise everything he was. His talent; His torment."

It was up to Norval to lift his glass to the Commander's, the clink breaking the sudden lingering quiet. "To a hero, then, who sadly isn't here to modestly object."

"To a hero," Sakkath echoed, the two of them draining their glasses in the moments following. "I would like for you to requisition a quantum torpedo and the flags of the United Federation of Planets and Starfleet Medical. Consult Commander Zeferino on her wishes for the funeral, and contact any next of kin."

"Of course," the Trill replied.

All Sakkath could do was nod as Norval stood and departed, silently wishing he had more agreeable business to see to.

--
A joint post by:

Lieutenant Norval Tigan
Assistant Chief of Operations

&

Commander Sakkath
Chief of Operations/Second Officer