Backpost: Lunch… among other things
Posted on Mon Sep 29th, 2025 @ 9:34pm by Lieutenant Axod Qo & Lieutenant Commander Emni t'Nai
Mission:
Port of Call
Location: Counselor's Office
Timeline: Mission Day 0 at 1230
[Counselor's Office]
[Lunch - Before Mixer]
The usual sterile decor of the counseling suite is nowhere to be seen. In its place, a holographic projection bathed the room in warm ambient lighting, transforming it into a chic Betazoid restaurant — all soft fabrics, glowing lanterns, and low, soothing music that hummed like a memory. Outside the 'window,' a dusky Betazed skyline twinkled beneath a violet-pink sky.
The table at the center was elegantly set, draped in soft linens with a curated spread of dishes that spanned cultures: delicate Doosodarian leaf pastries dusted with flower sugar, small Romulan viinerine rolls presented with artistic precision, and a trio of Betazoid tasting bowls—fragrant, spiced, and slightly mysterious. A carafe of chilled jarel nectar pressed from the flower of the Doodoarian fruit.
Lieutenant Axod Qo adjusted the placement of a bowl slightly, then stood back with a contemplative look — one part counselor, one part host. He smoothed the front of his uniform tunic, then took a seat at one end of the table. The presentation was perfect. Maybe too perfect. But appearances had always been part of the art.
He looked toward the door just as the chime sounded.
Outside the door Emni stood, a small box that held a chocolate fudge-like confection in hand. The counselor had been clear that he was making the food arrangements, but she felt odd without something to contribute so had settled on these--a throwback to a small confectionary shop she'd found in San Francisco while she was a cadet. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find a comparable recipe in the replicator when she'd gone looking and now fussed at the bow atop the box with one long fingered hand, making sure its ribbon was fluffed to its fullest decorative extent.
Axod had said this wasn't a counseling visit. Or, at least he'd implied it wasn't, though she knew from experience that just because it wasn't an appointment made didn't mean there would be no sharing involved. Counseling was the natural extension of relationship building and from everything she had seen thus far Qo was well matched to the role--a significant departure from Karim's acerbic nature. The crew liked him and she was glad of it.
With an indrawn breath she stepped into the range of the door sensor and waited.
Instead of raising his voice to call out, Axod quietly crossed the few steps to the door and pressed the control panel with a deliberate touch. The doors parted with a familiar, gentle whoosh, revealing the figure waiting beyond.
His face softened, the tension of the day melting into a warm, welcoming smile. "Jolan tru," he greeted, his voice rich with sincerity as he offered the traditional Romulan salutation, accompanied by a respectful dip of his head. There was an ease in the way he spoke it — as though the words carried a private weight of meaning between them.
"I hope you're as hungry as I am," Ax added, a playful glimmer in his eyes as he stepped aside, gesturing for Emni to enter. The simulated Betazoid scenery beyond the threshold shimmered with soft, natural light, the tranquil atmosphere welcoming her into a space designed for comfort.
"Jolan tru," Emni responded, matching warmth for warmth as she enjoyed the feel of her native language on her tongue. Universal translators had long ago made it unnecessary to learn other languages, but there were some times where it just felt right and good to use the words she'd been raised with and to know they were understood by another.
She offered Axod the small box she had been holding, extending both hands with the offering in a somewhat formal Romulan motion--one that conferred respect and appreciation. When he took it, though, she dropped the formalities and surveyed the transformed space. "Balsam's work?" she asked, curious. She knew of the ensign's predilection toward holographic programming and the care with which he maintained the holo environments.
Axod nodded thoughtfully, his ginger hair catching the ambient light of the holodeck. “I think this is going to be a fantastic tool for sessions,” he said, his voice warm with genuine enthusiasm. He took a moment to slowly look around, his dark eyes sweeping over the rich, carefully rendered details of the simulated environment. The authenticity of the space, the gentle sounds, the subtle scents programmed into the air. It all seemed to breathe new life into the otherwise sterile reality of deep space.
A sincere smile curved his lips as he turned back. “It’s more immersive than I expected. I think it’ll really help people open up... maybe even let them forget where they are for a little while.”
"This all looks amazing." The Romulan stepped further into the space, moving to the table so she could better take in the sights and scents of the foods. "I'm going to go away utterly spoiled for normal lunches." Dark eyebrows rose, and she dropped her hand to the warm softness of the table cloth, letting the weight of the fabric seep through her fingers. "This is the sort of place I imagine my father might have frequented."
“It’s meant to be a little bistro down in the harbor district of Rixx," Axod explained, a gentle fondness softening his voice. "I thought it might be tranquil enough for a nice, relaxing lunch.”
He swept his hand toward the empty chair across from him with a gracious gesture, inviting the First Officer to sit.
"Something to drink?" he offered warmly, lifting the elegant, sunlit carafe, its nectar catching the light in a soft golden hue. His smile was easy, welcoming, the kind that made it feel like this table could be a world away from the worries of the station.
With an appreciative nod of her head, Emni took her seat, accepting the offer of a drink of the beautiful liquid. While he poured she perused the various plates, spying viinerine rolls amongst the offering and feeling a flare of warm appreciation for the counselor and his attention to detail. The cup he offered her was delicate, designed to augment the appearance of the nectar and she held it up between thumb and index finger to watch the light catch and then scatter through the liquid. Briefly an image of Sulli, seated at a sunlit table, arm extended to offer her a glass of cold tea flashed through her minds eye. She was tempted to follow the thread--had, in fact, being doing so more since the period where Karim had taken up regular ownership of her couch. Were she a Vulcan she'd have been concerned at the surfacing memories.
Slowly, she brought the glass to her lips and sipped, sighing contentedly at the light sweet liquid that coated her tongue. "This is delicious," she said, watching the counselor and smiling warmly. "Where did you learn to set a table like this?"
“Communal dining is a revered part of my culture,” Ax said with a soft smile, carefully pouring himself a glass of the viscous liquid. “It’s the foundation of nearly every first contact in my people’s history...breaking bread before breaking barriers.” With a graceful ease, the Doosodarian lowered himself into the empty seat, his posture somehow both formal and relaxed.
“I did some research, of course,” he continued, his fingers intertwining in a delicate gesture that symbolized connection, “so I could blend our respective cultures for this moment.” His eyes searched Emni’s face, a quiet sincerity in his tone. “I hope that’s okay?”
"Absolutely," the XO answered warmly. "Truthfully it's impressive. Most people are unaware of the Betazoid in my heritage. My mother used to say that I got all of her physical genes and too many of my father's mental ones. Raising an empathic child in a society that isn't normally empathic was a challenge I don't think she counted on. Then again, I don't think she had counted on me at all." The expression on her face was wry now, a bit of self deprecation mixed into a que sera, sera sort of acceptance of what was. "Do your people train their young on how to craft an experience of this nature or is it something you, particularly, have a predilection toward?" she asked, curiously.
“I suppose it’s my own predilection,” Axod admitted with a soft, reflective smile. He reached for his cup and took a sip, letting the sweet nectar linger on his tongue before swallowing. The flavor seemed to fuel his thoughts. “You grew up on Romulus, didn’t you?” he asked, his tone gentle but inquisitive. “The Romulan enigma has always fascinated me. So much discipline, so much secrecy. Yet beneath it all, something deeply poetic.”
Taking her own sip Emi nodded her reply and then swallowed the sweet drink before following her nod with a verbalized agreement. "I did. To this day I think even the Romulan people may not fully comprehend what was lost when Hobus nova'd." She sighed, her eyes taking a far away look as old memories came forward. "Secretiveness is a hard habit to break. It is self-protective. And when a whole society embraces it..." she shrugged and raised her glass to her lips again. "There is beauty in discipline. And value in keeping that beauty close and safe. But there is loss in it too. What good is beauty when it is not shared?"
“That’s oddly poetic,” Axod said, the corners of his mouth lifting with quiet amusement. He set aside his cup with a soft clink and reached for his plate, taking a moment to truly regard the array of food before him.
There was an intentionality to the way he moved, the practiced grace of someone raised to find meaning in ritual. With a steady hand, he took up the serving spoon and helped himself to a generous portion of viinerine, its fragrant spices curling warmly through the simulated air. He didn’t forget the leaf pastries either, each one delicately folded and golden, their crisp edges promising just the right contrast.
He eased back into his seat, letting his posture relax as he crossed one leg over the other. The motion was fluid, almost elegant. His eyes lifted again, curious now. “Are you interested in poetry at all?” he asked, the question open but not idle. There was something genuine in his tone. An offer, perhaps, to meet somewhere a little deeper than small talk.
Following the counselor's cue, Emni leaned in with her own plate, serving herself first from the viinerine then the leaf pastries as he had. She peeked into the Bajoran tasting bowls as well and spooned a bit of each into onto a corner of her plate before popping one of the viinerine into her mouth and chewing. The flavor was, she was pleased to realize, fairly precise. It had been years since she'd had the dish and though it had been that long, it was a flavor that evoked home and she sighed despite herself. Qo really had outdone himself.
She chewed slowly, using the bite she'd taken to consider her response before swallowing. "I suppose after a fashion, yes," she said. "I find it useful. When you get to share everyone's emotions it can be valuable to have ways to describe things and poetry has a way of describing those things which aren't tangible in terms that are easier to consume. But for relaxation... truthfully... it's not my go to. And for debate..." her eyes flashed slightly with warm enthusiasm, "I find philosophy more fulfilling. What about you?"
“Poetry takes many forms within Doosodarian culture,” Axod began, his tone thoughtful, almost reverent. “It’s not just art, it’s also politics, it’s healing, it’s ritual. It's how we mourn, how we celebrate, how we protest and how we remember. In many ways, it's our first language, even before the written word.”
He glanced up, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Poetry is so deeply woven into who we are that I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a Doosodarian who doesn’t carry at least one verse in their heart, whether they’d admit to it or not.” He took a thoughtful bite of a viinerine roll, savouring the flavours and looked up to meet t'Nai's gaze.
A smile pulled at Emni's lips as she watched the counselor, noting the shifts in his emotional landscape toward nostalgia and deep reverent appreciation. "Do you share the verses held close to your hearts?" she asked, curious. "Or are they privately held? More like personal tokens than public art?" If she were honest she was curious what verse Qo might hold dear.
Qo swallowed the bite of viinerine, nodding thoughtfully as he set his fork down with care. “Poetry can be a great introduction between Doosodarians,” he said, his voice softening with fondness. “It’s like an icebreaker, but deeper. It's almost like it lets you see someone’s spirit before you know their name.”
He lifted his glass, the light catching the liquid inside, and took a measured sip. A small, contented smile crept onto his lips as he set the cup back down, fingers lingering just a moment on the rim.“I haven’t had the chance to share any of it with my Starfleet friends yet,” he admitted, his gaze flickering across the table. “Different cultures view poetry in such different ways, it's hard to know how it may land.”
Emni considered that for a long moment, chewing one of the delicacies on her plate and then sipping her nectar before responding. "My path winds on through stars and wind and all the places in between. Though home was lost and I adrift, the path winds ever on for me." She quoted, giving only a moment's hesitation to wondering if the lilting Rihansu would be translated well by the universal translator. A corner of her mouth quirked up. "We may be a secretive people, but not so austere that I never learned to appreciate poetry myself." She paused a moment more, marveled at how decades later she could still hear Sulli's warm tones reciting those lines as if it were yesterday, and then glanced over at the Doosdarian man across from her. "Those lines were written by my wife," she said. "I don't know that we had an equivalent to your heart-poetry on Romulus, but that one was always dear to me."
Axod let out a low, melodic warble. A distinctly Doosodarian whistle, expressive and layered, conveying his admiration far more richly than words alone ever could. His eyes shimmered slightly with emotion as he absorbed the weight of the verse Emni had shared. “Absolutely beautiful,” he said at last, his voice softer now, reverent. The space between them seemed to shift, thickening with unspoken understanding. This was more than a conversation, it was a moment of mutual vulnerability, both rare and sacred.
Leaning forward slightly in his seat, Axod allowed his tone to carry the weight of ceremony. “May I?” he asked, though the question was rhetorical. His gaze held Emni’s for a heartbeat before he began to recite.“Beneath the moons, the silver moss unfurls along a winding trail, where glowing trees in silence toss their thoughts into the starlit gale. Each step, a bloom of light and sound. Each choice, a song in crystal tone.The path is never truly found, yet never are we quite alone.”
His voice, rich and warm, lent the words a gentle gravity. The imagery shimmered between them like something alive. Soft moss underfoot, ancient glowing trees, and a vast, eternal journey rendered in sound and starlight. “For your sake,” he added with a quiet chuckle, “I’ve omitted the eleven-minute lacunae meant to mark the poet’s internal divergence at the journey’s midpoint.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, the remark lightening the mood just slightly. “It’s... a bit of a Doosodarian indulgence. But the heart of the poem remains.” He let the silence settle between them for a moment, an intentional pause, not to fill the space, but to honor it.
The pause--a lacuna in its own right--was comfortable and Emni used it to pair the flavor of the counselor's emotional profile to the words he'd spoken. It was a layer of poetry known only to her, but one she had come to appreciate as much as the art itself over the several years that Sulli had shared her own artistic endeavors with she and Jori. "I appreciate your depths," she finally said, breaking the silence with the compliment. "And your restraint in inserting 11 minutes of lacunae." This second piece was delivered with a twinkling of amusement in her dark eyes and a quirk to the corners of her lips showing her amusement. "How did this one come to be your heart's poem? If it's not prying to ask."
Axod blushed faintly, the color rising like a slow sunrise along his cheekbones. He reached for his glass, the sweet nectar inside catching the light as he brought it to his lips. He took a small, contemplative sip, allowing the familiar flavor to ground him before he spoke.
“When I was young,” he began, his voice softening with the touch of memory, “I couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen… I had a crush on a healer who worked closely with my mother.” A wistful smile played at the corner of his mouth, tender and unguarded. “He was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. Kind. Gentle. There was something in his presence that just… steadied the world around him.” Axod’s eyes drifted shut for a moment, the memory washing over him like a warm tide. “This verse, he used it often with patients. Those who were healing, almost whole again, but unsure how to re-enter the flow of life. He said it helped them find their footing.” He opened his eyes again, their dark blue depths glinting with quiet emotion. “I didn’t understand the fullness of it then, but it stuck with me all the same.”
He looked down briefly, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. “Funny… I can’t even recall his name anymore. But that moment, that verse, the feeling it gave me. Those stayed.”
"It sounds as if you found your heart's poem and with it, perhaps, your calling," Emni mused, a thoughtful warmth to her tone. "You are, after all, a healer in your own right now. Perhaps that is more important to the legacy of the man from whom you received it than his name." She smiled, sipping her nectar a moment before adding. "After all... we can all recall so many names... but how someone made us feel -- that is priceless."
She was right, feelings and the memories they could conjure were incomparable. Axod's smile widened, genuine and unguarded. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said. He reached forward across the table for the box the XO had brought. With deliberate care, he opened the lid and selected a piece of the fudge confection. He held it for a moment as though it were a sacred object. Then he took a small, thoughtful bite.
His eyes closed.A soft, involuntary sound escaped him, “Mmm.” It wasn’t dramatic, but there was no hiding the pleasure it brought him. The sweetness settled over his palate, disarming whatever tension he’d may have still had in him. When he opened his eyes again, “That,” he said slowly, reverently, “is indecently good.”
The Romulan chuckled, plucking one of the treats from the box and popping it into her mouth. The chocolate was creamy and seemed as if it began to melt in moments, coating her tongue in the delicious flavor. When she finally swallowed she turned a pleased smile on Axod, eyes dancing. "Indecently good is a perfect description for them. I discovered these when I was at the Academy. We don't have anything like them on Romulus. Didn't... I mean."
Axod noted the gentle correction at the end of Emni’s statement. It was a subtle shift, but one that carried weight. He didn’t press it, but he acknowledged it with the quiet respect of someone who understood the significance of such distinctions. Lifting his glass, he took a slow sip of the fruity nectar, letting its sweetness cut through the richness of the chocolate still lingering on his tongue.
“I suppose,” he said, his tone light but edged with sincerity, “it would be cliché to talk about Romulus.” He left the words there. Unguarded, gently offered. It wasn’t a prod, but a door left ajar, should she choose to walk through it. Her heritage was a part of her, even if the world that shaped it had vanished in fire. If she wanted to speak of it, he would listen. And if not, the moment would pass, quietly honored.
Emni was quiet for a long moment, contemplating what, if anything, to say. So much about Romulus was shrouded in grief and loss and had both been over analyzed and not analyzed nearly enough. And it had been years... more than a decade... since the incident. Scanning the table, she selected one of the Romulan delicacies that Axod has prepared, plucking it from the plate with two long feminine fingers. She examined it, but didn't pop the morsel into her mouth as she had readily done with others. Instead, still looking at the confection, she spoke.
"You know," she began thoughtfully, "most people are uncomfortable speaking about it. It's not so much cliche as taboo. For the more superstitious types a bit like walking over someone's grave." Her eyes lifted and met the counselor's. For all that Vulcanoids aged differently from many others, Emni's eyes belied the length of her life--50 years of history on a face that looked too young to many to be that old. "But I don't mind," she continued, 'not really. I mean not when folks want to talk about it for the right reasons I guess. Not just to sate their own curiosities."
She glanced down at the food still held between two fingers and popped it into her mouth, letting the flavor and scent of the food unlock memory. "I think when most folks think of Romulus they think of her cities," she finally continued. "This treat, though, originated in the countryside, not terribly far from where I was raised. It always amused me how frequently those in the cities would seek out the flavors of the countryside even as they shunned its other beauties." She shook her head and picked up the plate, offering one to Axod. "Wilderness is, of course, wild. And doesn't lend itself to order and discipline the way the Empire liked."
"The Empire would hate Doosodaria," Axod mused, his voice carrying that soft blend of curiosity and certainty. He lifted a morsel of the same delicacy she’d just sampled, rolling it thoughtfully between his fingers before taking a bite. The flavors bloomed across his tongue, rich and untamed, perfectly matching his words. “Even the cities are wild,” he added, a faint note of admiration coloring the statement, as if the untamed nature of his homeworld was less a flaw and more its most compelling feature.
"This is something I always thought the Empire got wrong. The belief that wild things lack order or discipline... It's control that they lacked in those spaces. But even nature has its own order--one often more powerful than anything we can dream up." She shook her head, surprised by her own quick response and the openness with which she said it. Even decades later criticizing the Empire felt risky. "Perhaps if they'd been more willing to accept and celebrate the things they didn't control they would have evacuated and fewer died when Hobus went nova." This last statement, though delivered with an almost careless air, held the tiniest aftertaste of bitterness.
Picking up her glass of nectar, Emni took a slow sip, chasing the words from her mouth with the sweetness of the drink. "I'm sorry," she said when she lowered her glass. "The Empire has always had a long reach... even from its grave."
Axod nodded with quiet sympathy. “There’s no need to apologize.” He idly nudged half a leaf pastry across his plate, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. “I wonder if Mister Balsam could program some Romulan landscapes into the holomatrix. Somewhere familiar, somewhere that feels like home. Would you like that?” He smiled, looking up at her sharp features.
The gesture was clearly sincere and it gave Emni pause. She'd hesitated to dip her toe into the realm of simulated versions of Romulus. Not because she didn't miss her home, but because so much of that place was tied up with Jori and Sulli and the fact that they had stayed when she had left. She had only ever ventured as far as the beach location that had been so special to them and, with a small quirk to one side of her lips, offered it up to the man across from her. "I might, yes," she admitted. "I do have one, though, if you'd like to see it."
Axod inclined his head in a measured nod, not quite enthusiastic but marked by a deliberate, professional curiosity. The subtle arch of his brow suggested calculation rather than impulse, yet his hand moved quickly, almost hungrily, to claim another morsel of the gifted confection. He allowed himself the smallest indulgence, savoring the texture before speaking again.
“Please,” he said, his voice carrying a careful balance of formality and invitation. He extended a hand in a fluid, open gesture toward Emni, the faintest trace of warmth softening his otherwise precise demeanor. “Be my guest.”
The Romulan woman chuckled. For all that he was demure grace and careful balance, the counselor's emotional fingerprint gave him away. Curiosity and excitement that he was clearly attempting to quell--almost certainly for her benefit--pulled a second short laugh from her. "You don't have to be so careful on my account, Axod," she said, using his given name in a way that, she hoped, added more informality to the exchange. "I'm glad to show it to you."
Not waiting, then, she pitched her voice to the middle distance. "Computer, open program t'Nai, Apnex Sea Reproduction Delta 5."
In acknowledgement the computer chirped and a moment later the beautiful elegance of the Betazoid cafe was replaced by a beach. Their table and seats sat directly on the sand mid-way between a rocky scrub that abutted some sort of coniferous tree grove. The ambient temperature in the room rose slightly and the sounds of the breakers lapping at the shore filled the space around them. A golden sun shone down from above giving the scene around them the impression of Earth's golden hour while the water, a deep dark brown blue, spread out far into the horizon on their right. "This," she told him, watching his face to enjoy his reaction to the change, "is the Apnex Sea on Romulus." She scanned the beautifully recreated scene, breathing it in as if she could bring home back straight out of memory. "Was, the Apnex Sea," she corrected. "My partners and I vacationed here frequently. Honeymooned here even."
Her use of Axod’s first name settled something within him, as though the conversation had shifted from duty to companionship. That simple familiarity was a welcome reprieve. It was an intimacy he, as a Doosodarian, had always thrived in. His posture loosened, and his smile came without restraint, broad and unguarded.
“I’ve read about it, of course,” he admitted, his voice carrying a gentle reverence. “I’ve even studied the artists’ impressions. The grand strokes of light and form trying to capture what they couldn’t truly know. But this…” His hand lifted, gesturing around them with quiet awe. The word this seemed to hang, heavier than all the others. “This is beyond words.”
His gaze lingered on the horizon, then returned to her with softened eyes. “More beautiful, I think, because of the memories it holds for you. That makes it real in a way no text or painting could ever convey.”
"I worry that it my affection for this place has made for a less accurate representation than I would want, but it's close all the same." Standing she used the toe of one shoe to pull off the other then used the new bare toe of the foot she had freed to remove the second shoe. Stepping forward she allowed the warm softness of the sand to ground her. The program, itself, was quieter than she remembered, but then the program was the place only and not the people that she imagined. The reproduction brought with it the evergreen scent of the trees behind them and a mild smell of brine--not so strong as the Pacific Ocean on Earth, but strong enough to indicate a component of the sea's make up. There was even a light breeze that picked at their clothing and caused the needles on the trees to brush together with a shushing sound.
"The water is, typically, fairly warm. Or it was at this particular spot. Can I tempt you to get your feet wet?" she asked, fixing the Doosdarian with a smile that invited familiarity and confidence.
“You don’t have to ask me twice!” Axod replied with emphatic eagerness, his grin stretching wide across his face. Without hesitation, he bent to tug off his shoes, then peeled away his socks with quick, practiced motions, as though he’d been waiting for exactly this kind of freedom.
The moment his bare feet sank into the sun-warmed sand, he let out a low hum of satisfaction. The heat radiated upward, filling him with a grounding comfort, a contrast to the cool breeze that played along the shoreline. Wiggling his toes, he relished the texture of the grains, rough yet forgiving, before taking his first step toward the surf.
As the water lapped against his ankles, Axod exhaled a long, unguarded sigh, one of complete release. The salt air, the rhythmic hush of the waves, the way the tide tugged gently at his stance. Everything seemed to conspire toward serenity. He allowed himself to be fully immersed in the moment.
Emni, too, stood ankle deep in the water, letting the dissonance of familiarity and alienness wash through her. It was a sensation she experienced every time she used this program--a feeling of two unconnected places colliding. Her rational brain knew she was not only not on Romulus, but that Romulus, the Apnex Sea, these grains of sand and tree and the soft caress of the breeze, were all gone. But something deep in her rung with a resonant recognition of her surroundings. If she closed her eyes she could image the footfalls of her two loves whispering softly in the sand as they approached, returning from their campsite.
She, too, couldn't miss the relaxation and deep welling comfort that bubbled out of the man next to her. Axod's serenity flowed from his emotional signature like cool water in a brook, unhindered by rocks or man made barriers. She felt the corners of her lips tugging toward a smile and sighed, allowing herself to experience the joy that came with sharing something so deeply loved with someone and finding that they, too, appreciated it.
It had been too long since she'd shared this place with someone.
Emni curled her toes in the soft wet sand beneath her feet, feeling it stir around her toes as the water moved in and out with the rhythm of the tide. She bent down, scooping the liquid into her hands and letting it trickle through her fingers. She let her emotional guards settle lower and enjoyed her companions quiet serenity.
Still stooped and letting her fingers run back and forth idly through the water she gave voice to the emotion she was feeling. "Thank you," she said, ducking her head so she could squint up at the counselor. "Thank you."
Joint Post by:
Lieutenant Commander Emni t’Nai
First Officer
Lieutenant Axod Qo, MD
Ships Counselor
