𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 @zorvaanade.bsky.social 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑠𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒

𝑆𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝐵𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡.

𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑦. 𝐻𝑒'𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑘𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐵𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐿𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑣𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝐵𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑. 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑘𝑠-

𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑧𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠 @crownzara.bsky.social 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑦

𝑆𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐵𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑟𝑎

A bit of background on the youth who will become Tol Beldas archiveofourown.org/works/734744...

𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠, 𝑐𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑚𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑗𝑎𝑐𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑠, 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑦. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝐵𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒, 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑡. 𝐻𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝐵𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑒.

𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @zorvaanade.bsky.social "I always hear that a ship's heart is the singularity, if that is true then I believe this is the ship's soul." 𝐻𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑑, 𝑤𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑑 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛, 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 ℎ𝑢𝑔𝑒-

𝐴𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒, ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒, 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑢𝑠𝑒. 𝑆𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒, 𝐵𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑢𝑝 𝑎 𝑏𝑟𝑢𝑠ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒-

𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑘'𝑠, 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑠. 𝐻𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑎 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑟

𝑆ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑚, ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑑𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑑, 𝑡𝑦𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑧𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑎. "𝐽𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑢!" ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒, 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑-

𝑊𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠, 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡: 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑟𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑝𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑠. 𝐻𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑-

𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑓, ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑟𝑒'𝑘ℎ𝑢𝑢𝑟'𝑠 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝, 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒-

// I am 100% sure that plenty of Vulcans actually slipped away to join Romulan worlds and live as their cousins do, and they would have been welcomed if they conformed within Romulan society.

𝐸𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑎'ℎ𝑟ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑢𝑝 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑗𝑎𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑐, 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑛.

𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝘍𝘷𝘪𝘪𝘹 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 5 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝐷𝑆9, 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑚ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑑 𝑖𝑛-

𝑃𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑠 @zorvaanade.bsky.social 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒

𝑆𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑁𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑘

𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑟, 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝. 𝐽𝑢𝑑𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒. 𝐴 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑠𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑢𝑝, ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑟 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛'ℎℎ𝑢𝑖 𝑓𝑣𝑢𝑑𝑡ℎ. 𝐻𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑡𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑝-

𝐷𝑜𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠.

"𝘙𝘪𝘢𝘯! 𝘙𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘰𝘭!" 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥'𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘴, 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. "𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯! 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘰𝘭! 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶?!" 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥'𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯, 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘺-

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴." 𝘑æ𝘻𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩, 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘳𝘦'𝘬𝘩𝘶𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘧. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘳𝘦'𝘬𝘩𝘶𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺, 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 -

𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑝𝑜𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @zorvaanade.bsky.social, 𝑁𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 @itscalkestis.bsky.social

I swear I sense the presence of evil...

@zorvaanade.bsky.social I have some news, I have a mission to go on, accompanying the other warbirds to go study stellar phenomena. If you wish, and are able to, I would enjoy your company as we go

𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑘𝑟𝑒'𝑘ℎ𝑢𝑢𝑟, 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 As Eisn rose and darkness waned the enemy spoke in a silver tongue Erein Vetaik, Erein Vetaik, Tell me your love's true name, and these gifts are yours for the taking: How would you like the command of a fleet? a khre'riov in the making?-

𝑆𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟, ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑟𝑒'𝑘ℎ𝑢𝑢𝑟, 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝, 𝑣𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠. 𝐻𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑑, 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑔𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 I woke in the morning As the sun rose from the sea My beautiful one-

𝐷𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝, 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔, 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑠 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑦. 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜. 𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑉𝑢𝑙𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑖𝑑𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑜 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑏𝑏𝑦 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠

My first officer is a Reman, amazing fighter and brilliant tactician!

𝘍𝘠 2370 𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢-

// Ro, while using a phased weapon to make energy signatures for Data to trace, spends time shooting objects...until she gets to Riker and shoots his in the head. Meant to be funny, sure Shows a viciousness that if it were a Romulan would be proof of evil intent

𝐿𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑥𝑦 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑡, 𝐵𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑒. "I am sure I've found my d'heis'he, Mother..."

I'm gonna whomp Veren's little ass, wheeee!

@verenade.bsky.social so are you joining the war games? Bochra gonna let you be in command against my ship??

𝑃𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤, 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠

𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒. 𝐾𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑠ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑠, 𝐵𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑎 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑏 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝐻𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛. "I've met someone, Mother..."

𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑒

𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔, 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘, ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡, ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑎 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑔𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑑 @ambassadordhael.bsky.social 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒

"Your father thought he would be forever held back by his caste, would spend his life toiling on a farm, studying agriculture. He escaped that, for it was not his Fate...I do not see being a fifth degree centurion as your Fate." "Father escaped his caste because he was-

𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑚ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛

𝐼𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑝𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑘 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑠, 𝑦𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑎𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑍𝑜𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑎𝑛

"I understand, my son...but grades and ability shall only let you rise so far." 𝑅æ𝑛𝑘𝑎 𝑖-𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑛'𝐴𝑘𝑘𝑎𝑖 𝑡'𝐾ℎ𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑦𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝑇𝑜𝑝 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠, 𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘, ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟-

𝘋𝘪'𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘷, 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 3,000 𝘉𝘢𝘫𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵'𝘋𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦-

𝑃𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐿𝑙𝑎𝑒𝑘ℎ-𝑎𝑒'𝑟𝑙, 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑

𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑝 𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚, ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠, ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑, 𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑏ℎ𝑦'𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑒𝑟. 𝐻𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠 "You brought my lunch?" ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑, "I'm on the station!" "I was told to, sir." 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑, 𝑠ℎ𝑟𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒, 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑣𝑒

𝑆𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑑, 𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑦, ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑢𝑝. "Yes, what is it?" "Riov, we have a strange message... danger coming." 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑛'𝑠 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒

𝑆𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 @zorvaanade.bsky.social, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑤 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ. 𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑝 𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘, 𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐵𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑑, 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙