Star Trek: Starbase 777 - lt-jg-grayson﹢lt-jg-marva

It had been an odd but not unpleasant first day at Starbase 777. Lieutenant So had been lovely to talk to and was an excellent tour guide, but she was ready to slow down and relax before starting her official duties tomorrow. They placed the last model on their section of the mantle piece, a luna class ship and replica of the USS Galatea, which was the last thing they needed to unpack, “There we go. All settled in, aren’t we Frankenstein?” the old black cat let out a tired meow before plopping unceremoniously on Ada’s bed. There was a chirp from the computer to let her know there was someone at the door. Their new roommate perhaps? She jumped up and smoothed out her clothes, she’d changed out of her uniform before unpacking, “Enter.” (edited)

Having only chimed the door a moment ago, the call to enter came swiftly. Giles stepped into the Lieutenant’s quarters, stopping just short of the door with hands held neatly behind his back – forward enough so that it would slide closed behind him. He had counted exactly how many centimetres close you needed to be for it to activate, once. The Trill who had entered looked professional in a neat Starfleet uniform with the purple divisional stripe of Intelligence, but perhaps a little…. Ominous. Pale skin was made paler by the contrast of the dark uniform, platinum-blond hair almost the same tone. Trill spots of a washed-out grey in colour almost seemed to glow briefly, along with his eyes; lighting up a shade of teal blue as he passed underneath the shadow of the doorway’s arch, before fading back to grey again in the light. The lenses of his glasses glistened with light as he looked around, taking in the choice of décor in the living room first – and then finally, his gaze settled on the room’s occupant. “Lieutenant Junior Grade Marva,” he started, regarding the other Trill with a rather neutral expression that could have been construed as somewhat of a ‘resting bitch face’ by some. This probably wasn’t the sort of appearance you wanted your filed docent to have; someone outwardly friendly or jovial would likely be what you yearned for. At least his wording was formal and polite, if that would help put the initiate at ease. “My name is Jadriel Ruhko. I’m here on behalf of the Symbiosis Commission; they should have advised you that I would be joining you aboard for the next few weeks in order to perform your evaluation as an initiate. Do you have a moment to talk?”

Ada let out a surprised squeak before snapping into a salute, “L-lieutenant Ruhko, sir! Apologies, I wasn’t able to contact you earlier and didn’t expect to see you this late,” they glanced around their room, thanking their luck that they’d been able to unpack before getting a visitor. But why did he have to see her for the first time when she was out of uniform and in her slippers? “Please sit down! Can I get you anything to drink? I have tea, the replicators can never seem to get my favourite blends right so I always have some on hand,” they moved to the kettle and set it to boil. At least her books were on the table, a nice mixture of advanced Warp mechanics and Charles Dickens, befitting any good Starfleet officer.

There was a visible grimace at the salute – lucky that had been the response and not a more sarcastic, Ruhko-esque roll of his eyes. There was a delay in him taking a seat, as offered; instead once again glancing around the room to take in décor instead – the books on the table were a pleasant sight. There were always people who preferred paper to having every book electronically on a PADD, and he was one of them. Some things, such as classic works of literature, should remain on paper like how they were written. “Please; you don’t have to call me Sir, and you certainly don’t have to salute.” Thinking about it, he didn’t think that he had ever had anyone salute him before. It was an odd experience, and made even more odd considering that the person who had done said salute was standing there in civilian clothing and a very choice pair of slippers. It wasn’t as though he could blame the initiate, however. He had shown up at an odd hour, and had caught her off guard. Not working set shifts meant that he simply worked whenever he could instead, and he forgot that other people subscribed to doing things at normal times of day. “Tea would be lovely, thank you – I’ll let you decide on the type. Although, I have to ask; why the kettle..? You’re quite right in that the replicator is notoriously bad for getting it right when you have something incredible specific in mind, so acquiring your loose tea separately is understandable… But at the very least, it knows how to make hot water.”

The young officer held up a knowing finger as she set the kettle to boil, “Ah, but it’s not about the hot water you see! The captain of my first ship, Captain Cassidy, once told me that part of what gives tea and coffee their flavour is the ceremony of everything. It’s the same reason why music sounds better live, or why we still watch theatre when we have movies and holo-programs,” they began pouring the hot water in the teapot, “Besides, it’s important for the aesthetic. When I was younger I thought all captains had to like tea like Captain Sulu or Captain Picard.” She placed a cup in front of the other Trill and began to pour, “There’s milk and sugar too if you fancy it,” they sat in the chair opposite and Frankenstein jumped into their lap, demanding attention. She stroked the cat absentmindedly as she sipped from her tea, “So. What’s the plan?”

An eyebrow was raised when Aedenzhwi held up a finger, explaining the reasoning behind her using a kettle instead of simply procuring hot water from the replicator as most people would do. Finally relinquishing the position from where he was seemingly scrutinising the room, he took a seat so he was at one side of the coffee table, Aedenzhwi at the other. “A valid point,” he mused as he picked up the cup and held it in both hands, using the cup’s warmth to warm them up. So many Starfleet officers liked to emulate the style of famous captains, most in the hope that it would get them to that rank too, some day. “Perhaps you ought to seek out a teapot and a matching set of cups – that way you’ll have fully achieved the aesthetic.” Blue eyes tracked the movement of the cat in the background, watching as it jumped up and climbed into the other Trill’s lap. Externally he may have seemed entirely neutral, but Giles was doing his usual of analysing every little thing that he witnessed, filing it away in the depths of his brain for later. Normally it would have simply be to develop his understanding of the person – it wasn’t as if he was trying to scrutinise them, it had just been drilled into him from a lifetime in Intelligence firms – but this time was different. This time, that mental fact-file on the other person was going to be put together for the Symbiosis Commission’s benefit, resulting in a recommendation of whether this initiate was suitable for joining or not. “The plan is that for the next two to four weeks – however long is required – I’ll be shadowing you in your day-to-day work. This is to gain an understanding of you; your personality, your skills, your interactions with others… In order to determine if you’re the right candidate to be joined."

Ada blushed slightly and looked down at their tea, “Well, I would be lying if I said that I didn’t have a set in mind for when I get my own office,” she glanced the other officer up and down. He was so calm and stoic, not giving anything away at all. They must be internally critiquing her. Had he already found something wrong? Is that why they weren’t there to pick her up from the shuttlebay? They’d gotten so wrapped up in their thoughts that they’d forgotten to blow on their tea before taking a drink, getting a scalded mouth in the process, “Oh so just be myself for a couple of weeks. Marvellous, I can do that! That should be no problem at all,” she said, desperately trying to hide her nervousness.

The initiate was ambitious, then, he presumed from the mention of ‘for when I get my own office.’ It was rare to find people in the Command division who weren’t. JAG Corps officers wanted to at the top of the chain of solicitors, Diplomatic Corps officers wanted to be ambassadors, and the majority of normal Command officers wanted to be a Captain some day. Some might roll their eyes at ambition, but the Symbiosis Commission never did. Those who proved themselves were the sort of people who became joined, and they thrived on having symbionts build a name for themselves over the years. Starfleet Captains and diplomats made for a proud lifetime, and by the sounds of it, this initiate was looking forward to doing both. He had already skimmed her file and was well aware of her previous work and occupation – now he just had to pay attention to that in real-time instead of simply reading it from a crew list. “You say that like being yourself is a bad thing,” came his next comment, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly as he watched the other Trill. He made no comment on how they blushed slightly, and certainly didn’t comment on the slight incident where they seemed to burn their tongue. Giles was here to evaluate, not to embarrass. “Your accomplishments are already in your favour. You’re a graduated Starfleet officer who has already been in the fleet long enough to warrant a promotion. Not only are you an officer in the Command division – something that is highly sought after – but you are an officer in the Diplomatic Corps. The Commission are aware that entry into the Corps isn’t easy, so you’ve already proven yourself in that regard. You’ve been through the initial physical tests and the exams, and you’ve gotten this far in the joining process. Now all that you have left to do is to prove that you’re capable." He paused, settling back in his seat slightly. "Do you have any questions about being shadowed for the next few weeks?”

Ada shook her head, “I think you might misunderstand me a wee bit, sir. It’s not that being myself is bad, far from it. If you’ve read my file you’d know being myself is something I’ve fought hard for,” she took a sip from her pink, white, and blue Starfleet mug, “It’s more that it’s difficult to be yourself when you’re told to do it, y’know? Like how if I told you to walk normally you’d just be focusing on your walk to much to do it.” They ran a hand through their hair, “Although I’m pretty sure who I am is someone who overthinks things, so I guess I’m off to a good start,” they laughed at their own joke, “Sorry, my mother never really told me about the joining process in detail, so I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. I hope I don’t disappoint you, sir,” she tapped her chin, “I’m not sure about questions. I guess, what would you look for in a new host for Ruhko?”

"Ah - I understand," he replied at the explanation. If you told someone to act normal then it suddenly became incredibly difficult to do just that, after all... Especially if you had somebody constantly watching you. The Trill may not have been through the initiate process properly in the past two lifetimes, but he had been through it nine times before. Being flanked by a field docent hadn't changed much over the years - Joined Trill loved tradition, as did the organisation that presided over them - and he could remember the sense of nervousness from every host when they were going through the process in the hopes of being joined... Except from Toren, when he thought about it. Their very first host had been convinced from the start that he was going to be successful, self-assured and charismatic as he was. "Everyone overthinks things when they're under pressure." Through the neutrality of his tone snuck in a sense of reassurance. Maybe he wasn't going to be so strict a field docent after all. "You don't need to worry about disappointing me - you only need to make sure that you work hard to not disappoint yourself. As for what I would look for in a prospective host? Firstly, someone with a willingness to adapt and change: because that's what you're going to do. Change." It was strange how at the word 'change' the Trill seemed to. The shift in mannerisms was small, from the way they sat up straighter to the change in tone from neutral to serious, but it was still noticeable. As they spoke there was a sudden impression that you weren't speaking to a Joined Trill: you were speaking directly with the symbiont. x_divider

08:31

"Being joined is not an easy task, be that physically or mentally. When people apply they frequently do so for their own personal gain, but fail to heed exactly what the process entails. You will change. You will no longer be the person you were. You must have a willingness to move with that change, to adapt to the joining, or you will lose yourself. A strong mental constitution is required. It is your job to reconcile between your own life and that of any others. It is your job to become the union of both host and symbiont; you cannot let the past overwhelm you. In the days that you wake, unsure of what year it is or who you are, you must be able to find yourself. You must be capable of finding balance - or your union will have failed."

Ada nodded along. What he was saying made a lot of sense, and it was nice to talk to someone who was so open with their feelings. The Trill at the Institute had mostly been flat and neutral, only giving the bare minimum of information specific to their tasks, “Well it’s a relief to not have to worry about disappointing you sir. I’m probably still going to though, I’m very good at worrying,” she chuckled, relaxing slightly, “And I’ve never been afraid of change. When you grow up on a Starfleet exploratory vessel you get used to things not being exactly stable. Plus with everything at the academy and stuff, I’ve gotten good at adapting.” They leaned back in their chair and swirled their tea, “I never really talked to my mother about Joining. Not in specifics anyway. My dad’s unjoined and didn’t have any plans to be, which is a bit of a shame considering how useful his engineering knowledge would be,” she sighed, “But my mum never talked about it much. She’d only give me vague answers about what she was like before being Joined, and I only knew her as Menzia Zyl. I guess I’m just worried if I meet her new host if I’ll still be recognisable to her, y’know?” (edited)

Giles would have been concerned if the initiate wasn’t worried. Going through the candidate process for being joined wasn’t supposed to be a walk in the park – it was designed to weed out the people who weren’t suitable, and the pressure that people felt during it was real. Those who weren’t nervous either didn’t understand how the selection process worked, or perhaps they were the other end of the scale and were too confident. The Symbiosis Commission had learned not to be swayed by confidence and charisma alone: Ruhko’s own first host had exuded both, and he had ended up being nothing but a thorn in the Commission’s side. “Some people don’t like to talk about it,” Giles replied, tone levelling out again from what had sounded more serious for a moment. He was more thoughtful instead with the wheels turning in his head: wracking lifetimes to try to work out if he had met a ‘Zyl.’ The name sounded familiar, but he wasn’t sure if it was from another lifetime or from this one – there was an Trill at Intelligence named Kyla VanZyl, so he wasn’t sure if he was just thinking of her. “Being joined is an achievement for most, an honour; and they don’t want to discuss life before that achievement… Or they don’t want to discuss who they used to be. Symbiosis changes a person. Perhaps they don’t like who they were before compared to who they are now.” x_divider

14:28

Zyl, Zyl – he remembered the name from Mavra’s file now, too. Losing their mother at such a young age and so early into training at Starfleet Academy must have been incredibly difficult. “If you did meet them, it’s possible that you would be recognised. I understand why you would be worried about such a thing. The Symbiosis Commission likes to say that we should have as little association between lives as possible, but they forget that we still have the memories and personality of the person who came before us. We still know the relationships that we had – how we feel about other people. I know that the prospect of meeting Zyl would be daunting… But sometimes, chance meetings can help us to reconcile with our past.”