"Memories, Part 2"
Printed From: USS Vanguard
Category: In Character
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URL: http:/www.aerth.org/Vanguard/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=433
Printed Date: September/22/2026 at 6:42am
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Topic: "Memories, Part 2"
Posted By: Shirik Lektar
Subject: "Memories, Part 2"
Date Posted: September/01/2026 at 11:46pm
"Memories, Part 2"
Lt. Cmdr. Shirik Lektar, OPs Chief, USS Vanguard
Stardate: 58807.12, 23h25
Location: Lektar's Quarters, Deck 2
***
She set the image of her friend Caly back on the dresser and her violet eyes slid over to the next image, that of Caly's husband, Sorg Jurell. He was her best male friend, and she owed him her life. She'd mostly repaid the favor later. She still had the Bajoran friendship bracelet he'd given her, tucked away in a drawer. She'd probably never wear it again. She stared at the image before her, the tall blonde haired young man with blue eyes. He towered a foot over her in height, even more over her shorter friend Calyca. He was a soldier through and through. A professional who never lost his head in a crisis, a member of the TAC team. Iceman, they called him.
***
Stardate 57908.15
Sorg arrived at his new station early for the Alpha Shift. It was the first time he'd had to stand post, and he wasn't thrilled about having to do it in the most boring place in the ship - the Computer Core.
Shirik made her way through the winding corridors, and the big doors to the core opened in front of her. She stepped through into her sanctuary.... and someone was there. She frowned. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Sorg snapped to attention,"Security sir," he replied. "Sorg Jurell ma'am." He smiled at the dark skinned woman - an Ensign. "Commander T'Kal assigned me here to stand post."
Sorg managed to take in her looks without the need to move his eyes. She was beautiful - very exotic. Right then he discovered that the computer core would be a very pleasant place to stand a post. He gave a silent thanks to the Commander and to The Prophets.
Her eyes narrowed. "Why in the name of Tos does T'Kal think I need a guard here?" She growled. "Look around. Does this look like a hotbed of danger to you?" She stalked to her console and considered whether to call T'Kal and complain now, or do it later in person.
Sorg smiled. Hotbed good choice of word.."Commander T'Kal knows what he's doing sir. The Sulu is now on alert and the computer core is a primary security location."
Sorg grinned. "This is my post sir, from now on. Commander T'Kal is just covering all the bases."
Shirik turned around to face him once more, arms crossed in annoyance. "We'll see about that later," she said. "Stand over there, out of my way, and don't touch anything." She pointed. "And we'll get along fine."
The Bajoran security officer kept his smile at her obvious distaste of having him standing post with her. He imagined being in here alone all day would be a chore - she must enjoy the solitude.
He went to the spot that she had indicated and stood with his arms clasped behind his back as he appraised her from this new angle. Her figure was perfect. The Starfleet uniform molded to her body like a glove and he could only admire her form. (Long legs and an ass to die for,) he thought with a smirk.
"I wouldn't be pressing the Commander about his decisions sir," he grinned. "No one does that.."
She eyed him. "Well, I do." Satisfied that he followed her directions and shouldn't be any trouble, she turned her back to him to go to work. All she needed was some security guard standing around ogling her all day.
He laughed softly. "Well sir, good luck." He shook his head. Some junior officers never learned. T'Kal wasn't the sort to tolerate any complaints about his orders. Sorg knew his reputation, but also his presence. He was the kind of officer that gave orders knowing that they would be followed.
"You'll need it," he added with a smile. **** but she was pretty. He noticed the color of her eyes for the first time. They were the same as Commander T'Kal's and that was unusual.
***
"Permission to speak sir?" he asked.
Back turned to him she rolled her eyes. Must he speak? "What is it?" she said, gaze on her console as she worked.
"I haven't seen you around," he observed. "Mess hall I mean.. you're not Vulcan, I'm unfamiliar with your race sir. I figure if we're going to be cooped up in here all day, every day together, I might get to know you a little.. if that's alright."
"That's because I don't use the mess hall," she said. "And what makes you think I'm not Vulcan?" She glanced over her shoulder at him.
"I know Vulcan's sir. I wouldn't call you dispassionate," he grinned. "Why don't you come to the mess hall?" he was genuinely intrigued.
"If you've met any of the other Vulcans on this ship, you'd find few who are," she said, turning back to her work. "Actually, I plan to spend more time there in the future."
"Excellent," he grinned, "I mean - that's good sir. So.. what are you? If you're not Vulcan I mean.."
Shirik turned to face him once more. "You are a security officer, are you not? I would have though that before showing up for your new assignment you might have done your homework and looked up my personnel record."
"I didn't know who I was being assigned with," he smiled. "The Commander gave orders this morning before he left on the Away Mission. I didn't get time to check.. but I will."
"The crew manifest and shift rotations are viewable," she said. If she'd been the crewman, she'd have certainly made sure she had that info before showing up in the core. She crossed her arms and regarded him. "You seem enthused about being posted here," she noted dryly.
"Yes sir," he smiled at her. "It's not the hardest duty I've ever had to do."
Shirik raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh?" she said, her tone expecting him to explain further.
He looked away for a moment and knew that his face would betray him. "Well ma'am, pardon my saying so - but you're not the hardest thing I've ever had to look at all day.. a lot prettier than most.."
Shirik rolled her eyes again. Just as she suspected. "Well, don't get any ideas. When you're here, you're working. And when you're not working, I'm not interested." She thought she might as well head him off before he got any ideas.
***
Stardate 57908.19
Suddenly the lift stopped. It wasn't a usual slowing of the pulsing lights, it was an abrupt halt that, thanks to the dampening systems, didn't send either of them into the roof of the lift. The door didn't open either. Sorg looked across at Shirik. "Something's wrong with the lift." His voice showed concern. Gremlins at work?
She frowned. "Computer, open the lift doors," she said into the air.
"Unable to comply," replied the computer.
"Computer, open the turbolift door," Sorg said with a note of irritation.
"Unable to comply," replied the computer a second time. "Please rephrase the question."
"What?" Sorg looked across at Shirik. He tapped his comm-badge.
"Crewman Sorg to Main Engineering."
There was no reply. No answering chirp. He repeated his request - nothing.
"You're an engineer aren't you?" he asked Shirik. "Can you bypass the system to open the door?"
Her frown deepened. "I can try," she said, moving to the panel. "Although without any tools or a tricorder, what I can do may be limited." She started tapping controls. "Computer, run a level 5 diagnostic on turbolift three," she commanded. "This is ridiculous...." she muttered to herself.
"Unable to comply."
The control interface lit up and then went black. The lights in the lift went with it. Suddenly it was pitch black.
"Okay...I can see where this helps," Sorg's voice came from the darkness.
"Khrish!" she growled. On the bright side, at least she could still see. Enough to make out Sorg in the dark so she wouldn't walk into him, but not enough to see what she was doing any more. "Just wonderful..." She tapped her own commbadge, even knowing nothing would likely happen. "Lektar to anyone!" She sighed in the darkness. "Well...maybe we can climb out the emergency hatch?"
"And have the lift start up while we're outside it?" Sorg's voice was irritated but calm. "It'll be okay - maybe it's a short lived thing?"
She was already starting to prowl around the lift like a caged tiger. "It had better be," she growled.
***
He laughed softly. He couldn't believe he was actually saying these things. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said.
She grinned. "The dark is making you brave," she said. "I wonder what else you might say if we stayed in here long enough."
He laughed at that. "I'm not that brave," he replied.
She laughed, too. "True... I am still armed..."
"I wouldn't put up much of a fight." He grinned.
"Tsk, where's the fun in that?" she grinned.
***
She breathed deeper, suddenly feeling stifled. Could it be the confined space of the lift? Was she claustrophobic after all? "Is it me, or is the air starting to run out in here?" she said.
"No," he said softly, "The air's fine... Are you okay?"
"I just feel like there's less air in here..." she said with a frown. "It's probably just from being stuck in here." She put a hand to her chest, rubbing absently at a dull ache. "We should try to get out instead of waiting."
Sorg's hearing was quite acute after so long in the dark. He caught a slight wheeze as she breathed. The air was fine, could she be having a panic attack? Shirik just didn't seem the type, but then the situation they were in wasn't that common. He had to reassess the situation. The lift was out of power - maybe. But that didn't explain their comm-badges - they were independently powered and should be able to reach a comm-node anywhere on the ship. Something was affecting the power on all three devices?
He reached behind him and unclipped his phaser from his belt. In the darkness he flipped the setting from stun to kill and heard the tell-tale whine of the power coil upping the charge setting. So the phaser was okay. It was something else - and Sorg Jurell wasn't an engineer, but Shirik was.
"The power cell in my phaser seems okay," he told her in the dark. "But the elevator and both our comm-badges are inoperative. Can you think of anything that would do that?" It was best to get her mind working on a solution to a defined problem - it was easier to go into a panic if your mind circled nothing but your situation.
"No," she said, sounding distracted. The pain in her chest was getting worse, and she didn't know why. It was getting harder to breathe. She rubbed at her chest and started to stand up once more, then grimaced as the pain in her chest increased. "I don't...feel so good..." she wheezed. "I can't breathe...."
"It'll be okay," Sorg said as he sat up in the darkness and clipped his phaser back into its holster. She sounded distressed though. "You have a respiratory problem at all? Like asthma or anything like that?" He started to move around the wall of the lift toward her voice, feeling his way.
"No...never anything...like that..." she wheezed, sinking back down to sit on the floor. "I feel like someone's...sitting...on my chest..." She focused on trying to breathe, but it seemed like every breath brought her less and less air.
He didn't like the sound in her voice. The wheezing of her chest was now pronounced. As he came next to her he reached out and touched uniform material; an arm. He could tell even through the cloth that she was hot. He reached further up and his fingers found her shoulder, then her neck. The skin was burning, and slightly clammy. Her breathing was more pronounced and he was shocked at the speed with which she was being affected. "Prophets...you're burning up. Have you been feeling unwell before today?" His voice was calm, showing concern, but totally in control. His mind was slipping into high gear. She'd been on the Away Team with him - they both had - and the planet was clean according to the Chief Science Officer - could it be a planetary bug? He didn't know enough about whichever scientific discipline it was that studied that stuff. He did know that that had been T'Kal's chief concern.
"Not...like this..." she gasped. She started to say more, but even finding enough air to talk was becoming difficult.
"Shirik, I want you to keep focused on breathing - don't waste energy talking." He pulled her so that she lay flat on the floor of the lift. He felt for her pulse. He knew combat medicine, basic stuff all security officers learned. Her heart was hammering.
She nodded, closing her eyes. It was hard to stay calm, being unable to breathe. She was afraid. She focused on his voice, and on drawing one breath at a time. "Sorg...get help..." she whispered. "Harder...to breathe..." She felt dizzy, even in the dark the room was spinning. She groaned softly.
He tapped his comm-badge again, cursing silently. It didn't even chirp. He was in pitch darkness, he couldn't see a ****ed thing and Shirik needed medical help. The turbo lift controls were still dead. The access hatch to emergency egress was at the top of the lift and it would be a climb of two minutes per deck, his memory was running through the drill for evac. Not enough time, she'd be dead before he got out if she stopped breathing. His fingers still felt a pulse, it was strong and fast - obviously trying to pump blood starved of oxygen.
No communications, no emergency transporter...no power.
His hand whipped the phaser from his belt and he dialled it up four notches by feel. Kill setting on medium charge, needle beam. He raised the weapon above his head and fired at the upper section of the elevator wall. The bright beam cast a glow over Shirik as he looked down at her. He kept the beam playing on the wall. It wasn't strong enough to burn through hull and besides the Structural Integrity Fields would absorb more energy than his phaser could put out. However firing a phaser on kill setting inside a Federation Starship set off the internal sensor alarms. It was the only thing he could think of. He couldn't leave her - not like this. His hand squeezed her shoulder. The beam was making the upper wall glow now. The heat was being absorbed but slowly and the rosy glow filled the lift as Sorg stopped firing the phaser.
She heard the phaser firing but didn't want to open her eyes to see what was happening. It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting air...in...out... Her hand went up to find his at her shoulder. She needed to know he was still there. Everything was getting dim, it seemed. Even the sound of the phaser fire started fading.
Dimly he could hear the alarm tone. It had set it off - probably on the deck above. He put the phaser next to his leg where he knew where it would be and concentrated on Shirik. Her eyes were closed and she was laboring for breath. Her face was covered in sweat, and her skin was burning up.
She didn't speak, didn't move. All her energy now was being focused on one task - getting enough air in her lungs to keep her alive. It was becoming more difficult by the moment. She opened her eyes partially, but could no longer see Sorg, even her vision was fading, it seemed. She closed them once more and hoped someone found them before she stopped breathing completely. This wasn't how she imagined it all ending. Laying on the floor of a dead turbolift, while her lungs stopped working. And she didn't even know why.
Sorg was concentrating on the sound of air going in and out of Shirik's lungs. It was shallow and rapid, her chest almost jerking with each intake. He held her hand and for the first time in a long long time he prayed to the Prophets for her life. The attack had been sudden. The only thing he could think of was a toxin or something as fast acting. It had only been a few minutes and she was struggling for breath. The sound stopped.
He held his own breath as he leaned down to place his ear next to her mouth. She was exhaling slowly as if deflating. Her hand went limp, the fingers losing their grip. He dropped her hand and felt for her pulse. It was still going, but raggedly. She didn't breathe in.
He didn't spare a moment for cursing. It was a time for training and control. He didn't know how fast security would respond to the phaser discharge alarm, or the elevated energy levels of the structural integrity field of the elevator. He dialed up the setting on the phaser and fired into the roof of the elevator - this time the corruscating energy was bright as daylight. It was enough to spike the shields and slag a section of the roof. If they couldn't find that on internal sensors they were in real trouble.
He dropped the phaser and started to breathe for her. Tilting her head back and beginning CPR, he prayed as he began the routine. Her heart was still beating - that was a blessing. He watched her chest rising and falling as he pushed air into her lungs.
Sorg Jurell prayed as he worked, he couldn't afford to stop. If he did - Shirik was dead, and he knew above all things that he didn't want that to happen. "Come on, Shirik," he said between breaths as he checked her heart beat once more. "Stay with me...please..." he begged as he took up the breathing for her again.
***
Ken nodded to himself and shouted, "On my way!" Without hesitation he climbed intot he shaft and started down. It took only a minute to get into the trubolift, and dropping lightly beside Sorg Jurell, Ken looked down upon the unconscious form of Shirik Lektar. She hadn't been shot - he could see that so he nodded to the Crewman and got to work. It only took a moment to hook his tricorder into the sensor system. A choice bit of ingenuity, he activated the tricorder and used it's own scanning capability to upload to the sensor network.
"Transporter room this is C1C Smith I need a site to site transport to sick bay for three. Lock on to my comm badge" He had heard the tell tale chirp but now he wasn't sure if it had gotten through to the transporter room.
"C1..Porter Room 1, I am locking on to...prepare to beam to sick.." The communication was garbled but Ken made out enough to know he had reached them.
A moment later the blue shimmer took them. They materialized a short distance from main sickbay - just outside in the corridor. Close enough!
The two men lifted Shirik's light body and carried her quickly into the busy sickbay. "We need help here!" Sorg called out, "She's not breathing!"
***
"Dr. Sefton!" A harried Nurse Reese swung through the doorway of the waiting room. "We've got another arrival - massive cardiopulmonary distress. It's...it's Ensign Lektar!"
"Bring her over to the main biobed," Sefton demanded. Recognising the medical problem, she asked, "Is she infected with the virus?"
The grim expression on Reese's face was answer enough. "Should I take her directly to the quarantined area, Doctor?"
"No. *All* of Sickbay will have to quarantined for the moment, and I want to scan Shirik with the sensitive overhead sensor cluster at the main bed," Sefton responded. Addressing Sorg and Smith as they carried in Shirik, Damhnait demanded to know, "What happened?"
Before they could respond, she took Nurse Crowe aside and quickly ordered her to scan Sorg and Smith for any traces of the virus once Shirik was off their hands.
"The comm system is down, Site to site is a little shaky too, we wanted to land in here and ended up down the hall." Ken explained glad that they had gotten their shipmate to sickbay in what he hoped was time. With a bit more concern than he wanted to let slip into his voice Ken asked. "Is she going to be alright?"
Disregarding the question she couldn't answer, Damhnait asked of Sorg, "What happened *to Shirik*?"
"She was talking to me - we had breakfast in the mess hall with most of Alpha shift Security. We left and stepped into a turbolift. Next thing I knew the power went out and it was pitch black. Shirik and I were talking - just biding our time till someone fixed the problem - she started finding it hard to breathe. Next thing she was struggling for breath and collapsed. She
stopped breathing - it took about five minutes from being okay to being like that. I did CPR. That was maybe fifteen minutes ago.. I gave her mouth to mouth.. you said a virus?" Sorg was worried now. There was no way he could escape being infected. He'd been breathing for her for fifteen minutes. He also thought of all the guys that had shared breakfast. *Oh Prophets* he thought..
As they set Shirik down on the biobed, Damhnait told Sorg, "The virus probably has not mutated to effect Bajorans yet." She snapped her attention away from him to Shirik's sensor readings. "Her lungs have collapsed. Reese, prep for a cardiopulmonary bypass."
***
Sorg stepped through the doors into her isolation room wearing a mask that the medical officer had handed him. The sterilization fields were on full and the slight buzzing in his ears attested to that. The sight of Shirik laying on the biobed almost made him gasp in shock. She was very pale, her skin a dull unhealthy grey-black. He stopped and just stared as she turned her head and looked to who had entered. Sorg was still in his uniform, no one in security was given leave off shift today - there was just too much happening, and security officers were pulling extra duty to help the engineers, medical staff and science personnel who required a hand. Too many systems were failing now.
She turned her head as someone entered, and smiled at her savior. She knew by the look on his face she must appear ghastly. But those dying are allowed to, she thought. She gestured him over as she started tapping on her PADD, and held up up to him. 'You saved my life, Sorg. I'll never forget that. I would hug you if I had the strength.'
He read the words and bent over her anyway, hugging her. "You owe me dinner.." he said as he backed away slightly. "You're not going to get out of it that easily you know.." He smiled down at her. He'd already been told that she couldn't speak. That would be hard on her. "Commander T'Kal asked me to stand post in here.. he didn't want you being alone without your minder."
She grinned, her first since being brought to sickbay. 'I'm looking forward to that dinner,' she typed. 'I was hoping he'd let you stay.'
Sorg Jurell grinned. "He ordered me to stay," he clasped Shirik's hand. "You know I always obey orders.. sir."
Shirik laughed. Or at least, tried to. Without any functioning lungs, it wasn't going to happen, though, and it ended up as a jerking of her body and a short choke or gag sound. She rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand, giving him a nod and a smile.
"So.. telling you some jokes is out?" He asked brightly. "You know this is a great opportunity - you can't argue with me. Some of the guys send their best wishes," he said. "Kaven said he's surprised that any germ could survive someone who drank the crap you drink.." he grinned.
She smiled, tapping out, 'Want to bet I can't argue?'
He chuckled. "I knew you'd find a way.. so how are you feeling? You look crappy..." he added with a smirk.
'About as well as someone with no lungs can feel, I guess,' she tapped. 'I hate just laying here, though.'
"I don't know, you'd look cute in a medical smock.. does it open at the back?" He grinned. "Have you seen Lieutenant Saavar?" he asked more seriously.
She gave him a mock-glare for a moment, then she nodded. 'He was here during Alpha shift. He brought me out of a coma, I'm told.' she typed.
"Nice of him.." Sorg smiled. "At least you're not short of male visitors.. I'll have to guard the door and make sure they only come in one at a time.."
She grinned, typing out, 'Unfortunately, one at a time is all I can handle now.' She emphasized it with a wink.
He laughed softly. He was still holding her hand and she hadn't made any move to let it go, and Sorg marvelled at the change in the dynamic between them. He felt immensely happy that she was here, talking to him through a PADD and not laying in the ship's morgue. Once again he knew that Starfleet's training program had saved the day. He gazed in the violet eyes of the girl on the bed and knew that he'd take a phaser shot for her without thinking twice. That was the way Sorg Jurell looked at things - he classified people into two categories; those he'd do his best for - and those he'd give his life for. It made being a security officer more tolerable.
***
Stardate 57908.24
She made her way slowly across the room to him, her steps measured to conserve energy and breath. She smiled at him as she settled onto a barstool. "You're looking handsome tonight. I feel a bit underdressed for this room."
"You look stunning.. as always." He smiled. The dress seemed to cling in all the right places, the dark plum color complimented her black skin and violet eyes. She was easily the best looking woman in the room, and this was a Risan program. He leaned close and kissed her cheek, smiling charmingly as he drew away again. "Welcome to the Savanna Club.."
She returned his smile, and looked out across the room once more. "Is this a place you've frequented?" she asked.
"I've spent a few hours here.." he gave her a smile that indicated he was being modest. "I love the atmosphere. It's Old Terran styled for Risa. The songs are apparently all authentic Jazz and Big Band Swing." He looked her up and down, the Benzite breathing device hung out in front of her face. "We'll give the dancing a miss tonight.. but maybe some other time I can
show you some swing."
"Yes, that's probably best tonight," she said. "I wouldn't want to anger Dr. Sefton further by ending back up in sickbay for overexerting myself," she smiled. "But I'd like that, another time." Her eyes studied him. It was the first time she'd seen him in anything but a uniform, and she definitely liked what she saw. He filled out the tuxedo nicely.
Jurell nodded and waved to a waiter. The man came over with a smile. "We'll be seated now," he told the waiter with a grin.
"Of course sir," the man replied and waved them ahead. "Your usual table sir?"
Jurell nodded. The three of them walked to a table that had a clear view of the singer and the band. It was one of the best tables in the club (naturally being a holodeck simulation). Jurell waited until Shirik was seated before taking his own seat. The tables were covered in pristine white cloth, silverware and candles. Even the seats were white, covered in a red plush material. The floor red carpeted, flowers on stands providing a pleasing riot of exotic colors and scents.
"A bottle of champagne to celebrate?" Jurell asked of Shirik as another black liveried waiter arrived.
Shirik took her seat, relaxing as she took in the atmosphere of the place. It *was* very nice. She always preferred holodeck simulations as a way to enjoy a public place without actually being bothered by anyone.
She nodded at the suggestion. "What exactly are we celebrating?" she asked with a smile.
"How about coming back from the dead?" Jurell grinned. "That's worthy of celebration." The waiter smiled and gave a tiny bow before melting away to retrieve the bottle.
The champagne was presented, popped and poured with total professionalism. The creamy bubbly frothed in the glasses and finally he raised a toast. "To life.. and living it," he said. His smile was warmer as he looked at her and took a sip.
The toast was very similar to the one Ben had used the previous evening. But here she was, a surviver of a near-fatal plague, what else would they toast to? She raised her glass with a smile and took a sip. She would definitely start living it.
He looked a little uncomfortable as he put his glass down, but his smile remained as he slipped one hand into an inside pocket. When his hand reached the table once more he had a square velvet box about the size of his palm. "I wanted to give you this.." he said softly. "It's a Bajoran tradition.." he looked up into her eyes. "I wanted to try to make it up to you. This is a way, in my culture to show affection; friendship to someone who is close. I'd like to be your friend Shirik, more than anything." He opened the box. Inside was a delicate bracelet. It had two distinct metals; silver and gold, twined in an elaborate plaited design of flexible links."Please accept this.."
She blinked in surprise as he set the box on the table. He bought her jewelry? Among most cultures she was aware of, gifting jewelry to someone was usually more than simple friendship. But she had to take Sorg at his word, she knew if he said it it was truth.
She reached to pick up the box and study its contents. "It's beautiful...." Her gaze found his. "Friendship?" she asked. "I don't think I've ever seen one before..." She couldn't help but wonder if Ben would ever offer her one. She wasn't sure she should accept it, but she was sure Sorg would probably be hurt if she didn't, so she smiled as she slipped the bracelet carefully from its box.
"Let me.." he said taking it gently. He twisted the catch and indicated her right wrist. As he fastened it on he said, "This is a Bajoran custom. It's called a Friendship Bracelet. Some call it a Promise Bracelet too. It symbolizes a bond of friendship between two people. It's only given perhaps once or twice in a lifetime, and always to someone special." He grinned as he released her hand. "Just so there's no mistaking intent, sometimes it's given to someone you love.. before giving them the second bracelet; the
Betrothal one."
"That always goes on the left wrist, but unlike this one, there's three metals twined together. The silver and the gold represents each of the two friends, a third, platinum is used to represent the Prophets Blessing upon a union of the two - that's Betrothal. When a Bajoran woman accepts the Betrothal Bracelet it means a declaration to all that she's going to be married." He smiled. "I have a Betrothal Bracelet, given to me by my mother. It's a tradition. Each family has one, usually in a particular design with the family name incorporated into the design. When a son is old enough to wed, the mother gives it to pass on. So some Bracelets are ancient depending upon the family caste."
She nodded watching him put it on her and absorbing what he was telling her. She turned her wrist, admiring the way the bracelet caught the light, and then turned her gaze to him once more. "I believe in speaking plainly, Jurell, as you know... So, in the interest of making sure there's no mistaking intent... What exactly is your intent?" She wanted to be sure she understood, and there were no cultural misunderstandings that would cause harm later.
"It's a Friendship bracelet Shirik.. it means I owe you the promise of friendship - given as a friend to a friend. That's all.. or you could choose to take it as a present of nice Bajoran jewelry to a very pretty girl in the hopes that this Bajoran boy is forgiven for totally screwing things up.. okay?"
She grinned and nodded. "Very well. I accept. Thank you."
***
Stardate 57908.27
Caly was ready and waiting when the chime rang. "Come," she called out as she brushed an imaginary speck of lint from her uniform and shouldered her pack as the door whooshed silently open. "Do I pass inspection?" she grinned at Shirik, holding her arms out and even opening her mouth for her to see, stifling a laugh as she did.
Shirik folded her arms and gave her friend a critical look-over. "Hmmm... acceptable," she smiled. "Just try to mind your manners," she teased. "Come on, I told Sorg we'd meet him in the mess hall, so he's probably already there."
"Hey now... I have impeccable manners. I don't scratch in public or anything," she grinned and fell in with Shirik as they left her quarters. "I've told you before.. I could hold my own, even in your court," she teased, the joke old between them.
"I may make you prove it some day, be careful," she grinned. "No burping or talking with your mouth full, either."
Caly rolled her eyes at Shirik and placed her hand over her heart. "You *wound* me," she sighed dramatically. "And my mother would have kittens if I ever did anything like that in public.... Although there was one time..." she grinned.
Shirik laughed as she entered the turbolift. "I *knew* it. Mess Hall," she ordered the computer, and fell silent once more for the ride. She wondered if she'd ever be comfortable in a turbolift again.
***
Sorg stood as usual as the two women approached his table. His eyes took in Shirik's' smile and he was glad that she was feeling better. The woman behind her stepped into view and he took in the short red hair and the deep green eyes and the impish expression, and he nodded and smiled at her.
"Hey," Kaven Lucas stood beside Sorg and his tattooed face split into a grin as he regarded Shirik Lektar. He was tall and his hair pulled back tightly in a cue, he looked frightening with half of his face covered in the tribal markings of his culture. His chest was broad and muscular. "Welcome back darlin'.... er. sir." Kaven was on Beta shift, but he preferred to stick with the normal cycle.
Shirik shot him a look that was somewhat less than amused, but let it go without comment since he amended it.
Sorg gave him a sideways look but laughed.
Shirik nodded a greeting to everyone. "This is Chief Calyca Boothroyd, engineering and my very good friend." The last was tacked on as a subtle warning to some. "This is my friend Sorg Jurell," she introduced him to Caly, and let the rest make their own introductions.
Caly smiled at each of them, nodding in return, the impish look growing a bit with the banter of some. She moved around to where Robert had pulled out the chairs, nodding her thanks but not taking a seat yet. "Gentlemen, and ladies. Ma'am," she acknowledged Hansen's rank and offered a hand to Sorg. "It's a pleasure to meet you all, and *you* I've heard about," she grinned impishly at Sorg, green eyes watching him curiously.
Sorg shook her hand and smiled warmly. "Hi," he said simply, a little embarrassed by her dancing eyes. He turned slightly and pointed at each face, introducing them by name. Then sat as everyone resumed their talking and eating.
Caly's impish smile widened a bit a his simple 'hi' and she turned to look and smile and nod at each in turn as Sorg introduced them, committing faces and names to memory.
"I didn't know Shirik had a friend in engineering," he grinned, looking at Shirik with reproval. "How did you meet?" he asked the red haired engineer.
"We met on the Exeter," Caly told him as she settled into one of the offered chairs and secured her pack between her feet. "We were roommates. She objected at first. But I grew on her. I tend to do that," she grinned, her gaze straying to her friend.
Kaven leaned over the table, "Can I get you anything?" he asked Shirik.
Shirik shrugged at Sorg and took a seat. She eyed Kaven, but decided to take him up on his offer. "I'll have some French toast with sausage links and a tall chocolate milk, please." she added a smile on the end.
Kaven grinned and nodded as he went to get her breakfast from the replicator. For an officer she was a decent sort, and making up for his past foolery with her favorite drink he thought doing her a few favors would suffice.
As he left the table Kate Hansen leaned forward, one hand holding a piece of sliced pear. "I heard you almost died," she said in her soft lilting accent.
"What was it like? Did you have any of those *experiences*?" Her dark eyes were intense and she smiled slightly at the Drokari Princess.
Shirik glanced sideways at the woman as she waited for her breakfast, "No, not really. I lapsed into a coma and was taken to sickbay, where I was revived." She glanced over at Sorg. "It's a good thing I wasn't alone when it happened."
Hansen looked disappointed. "Iceman's always cold under pressure.. he's good like that. Always knows what to do.. he should get promoted soon."
"I believe you," Sorg said to Calyca as he laughed. "She's never talked about you, so I have *nothing* to go on. so what's she been telling you about *me*?" he asked conspiratorially as Shirik started talking to Hansen.
Caly turned her gaze and focus back to Sorg, the interplay between Shirik and Hansen there in the back of her mind. She was still worried about her friend, and was probably keeping tabs where she didn't need to. She laughed softly at Sorg's question, the sound rather melodic as it slipped from her lips, and she leaned closer to answer him just as conspiratorially. "She says you're a good guy and covers her ass," she grinned. "Now, would you like something to eat?" she sat back. "I'm *starved* and am about to go get something."
He laughed, "And it's a very cute ass too," he quipped, "Yes I'll join you," he stood with her and waved her ahead of him, following her to the line at the replicator. He noticed that Ms Boothroyd was similarly endowed. He glanced back at Shirik but she was conversing with Hansen. He turned back to Calyca as she moved forward. Standing in line they were fairly close.
Caly couldn't help but laugh again at his quip. "Yes indeed it is," she agreed, clearly teasing. Although Shirik really did have a cute ass. "Especially when she pours it into her exercise gear," she looked up at him and grinned. "And she calls you a friend," she added on a more serious note, turning to the replicator when they reach it and ordering a surprisingly big breakfast for someone her size. "I think that's a good thing." She stepped aside and let him get what he wanted.
Shirik turned her attention to watching them as she ate. They were getting along well, as she knew they would. It was only a matter of time now, she thought.
***
Shirik came back to the present once more. Her two best friends were married eventually, and for a time they had joy the likes of which she'd never known. She never regretted introducing them. And then... all good things come to an end, they say. Jurell was gone. Killed during a training mission, their shuttle destroyed, his body never recovered. A meaningless death. It wasn't fair. She'd done her best to comfort Caly. Now they were both gone. Her closest friend, who she considered a sister, was out there somewhere. Grieving without her to lend comfort.
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