Timeline or events that Blake remembers or experienced.
Earliest simmed recollection to date
((Turbolift, USS Avandar - SD 239004.19))
tr’Khellian: Though not 100% but I think it’s even coin toss. With that being the case I just wanted to share with you my thoughts so we can be ready in case things go south.
- Sky raised an eyebrow.::
Blake: I'm glad you told me. But at this stage . . . *anything* can go south with this damned ship. We had power draining out of every hole we have, then we had Alr'n trying to take what they can, and then apparently put in viruses. Medical still doesn't have a complete count of how many people are dead or injured yet.
tr'Khellian: I'll tag along to sickbay ::The man looked at her shoulder, concern evident in his voice.:: Perhaps ducking next time?
- The looked Sky had given him was cold, lips twisting as she glanced back down at the shoulder tightly wrapped from having a pointy object intrud upon it's innards and huffed at his small joke.::
tr'Khellian: ::smiling:: Look at it this way..between us we have 2 good arms!
Blake: Computer, resume turbolift. ::She looked back at the man standing next to her.:: There's work to be done.
tr’Khellian: Roger that Lieut. Commander.
- But of course, the man couldn't help himself at the time.::
tr'Khellian: Computer, play Ritt der Walküren by Richard Wagner..
- Sky sighed.::
Only recognition of Marcus Dickens prior to meeting Kelrod in 2393.
((Flashback, SD 239011.04 - USS Avandar))
Blake: Sounds like I missed a party.'
Dickens: Seems that you had a party of your own commander. Are you all right?
- Sky looked down at her bandaged shoulder before looking back up to commander, and tilting her head somewhat in acknowledgement of her injury.::
Blake: Nothing I can't handle.
Blake loses memories 239101
Panic attack, 239101.30
Blake: ~~ Whatever you're doing, keep doing it. ~~
- There was a twinge of a smile on his lips, and he slightly in his cross-legged perch on the bed, breathing deeply. He was in the back of her mind, testing the limits of the emotional bond they shared. She wasn't sure how - the Vulcan aspect of their relationship had always confused her, often leaving her with too many questions and many of which he simply couldn't answer.
- So she simply watched as that chest expanded and deflated, the contour of his arms and shoulders exquisitely illuminated in the dim lighting. He'd kept the beard - well trimmed, never long enough to "cause mild irritation" - which only softened his facial features.
- If she had of known he was going to put on a show, she would have brought some strawberries.::
Sabor: You are very distracting.
Blake: ~~ *I'm* the distracting one? ~~
Sabor: It is simple meditation.
Blake: ~~ With the perfect mood lighting. ~~
- An eyebrow rose, those soft brown eyes opened.::
Sabor: Still distracting?
Blake: ~~ You'll always be distracting. ~~
- He gave an amused huff, pushing forward to the bed as he crawled up beside her, one hand resting on her hip, the other he was using to rest his head upon. She couldn't help but smile, shifting so that she was firmly wrapped within his arms, her nose trailing against his neck - a Brekkian instinct, an action for intimacy and nurturing.::
Blake: I love you.
- There was a moment of silence, Sabor holding her tightly against himself, placing a kiss to the top of her head.::
Sabor: I love you, too. And we *will* get through this.
Recollection of memory with Sabor
- Fingers tracing the numb scar on her lower back had brought her to some form of reality, opening her eyes to the warm, low lighting of their bedroom. She hadn't been asleep - not really. Just resting.::
Blake: ~~ Thalaron particles. Or radiation. To be honest, I didn't get the chance to pay attention. ~~
Sabor: I didn't think they could cause such a precise injury.
Blake: ~~ They didn't cause the injury. The saved my spine. ~~
- She could feel the curious eyebrow without having to look at him, instead smiling into her pillow.::
Blake: ~~ It's a long and terrible story. ~~
Sabor: I'm sorry for bringing up the trauma.
Blake: ~~ I don't mean 'terrible' like *that* - I mean 'terrible' as in "I was so stupid back then". ~~
Sabor: You are not saying this is self-inflicted, are you?
Blake: ~~ No. But if I had been smart, it wouldn't have been inflicted in the first place. Running head-long into danger is . . . ~~
- She smirked a little.::
Blake: ~~ Something like that. ~~
Flashback (no date)
Presumably set a few weeks before Sabor's death. Their relationship is at least at a point where they're comfortable to tease each other without hesitation - something only exhibited after a month or two.
Blake: You never explained to me how you percieve emotion.
- Liquid brown eyes glanced at her as he set Ayden down, lingering briefly on the baby before turning to her fully. It was a strange question of hers, of which, up to this point, had remained unanswered despite their relationship. She allowed herself to be gently led out, returning to the lounge with the man.::
Sabor: I'm not sure I understand the query.
Blake: Vulcans are logical, yes?
- He coughed, covering what would likely have been a smirk at the child-like question.::
Sabor: All humanoids are capable of logic, that is correct.
Blake: Including the V'tosh ka'tur?
- There was a split second where Sabor hesitated, his eyes considerably sharper as they gazed upon her and his hand stilling in it's place around a glass, before he recomposed himself. There was recognition in the name, that Sky could feel, and though usually allowed her a certain amount of access to his psyche, for that brief moment, she'd been cut off from him entirely.
- Was this Sabor's display of fear?::
Sabor: You've been reading.
Blake: I'm sorry if it's-
Sabor: It's fine. But I can't claim to know the inner workings of their . . . "understandings". I personally don't see logic as a choice one can make. For example, logic dictates one shouldn't put their hand under boiling water. Does that mean a Vulcan of the V'tosh ka'tur would burn themselves under such water to defy logic?
Blake: Isn't that more 'self-preservation' then 'logic'?
Sabor: One might argue that self-preservation could be considered rudimentary logic that requires little to no understanding to implement.
- She could tell now that this particular debate would only go round in circles until one of them gave up. Probably her.::
Blake: So why do Vulcans insist that emotions are *not* logical if all humanoids feel, and are capable of logic.
Sabor: Emotions cannot be *explained* by logic. That doesn't mean that emotions are not logical.
- The corners of Sky's lips perked up.::
Blake: Is this a personal belief, or one shared by all Vulcans.
Sabor:::after a heavy breath:: I support the notion that all Vulcans may have their own philosophy not shared by others - which, unfortunately, is not a sentiment one will find among regular temple-goers. But there was a time where mind-melds were considered taboo and were suppressed by a single group. This . . . may be the case today regarding logic.
Blake: So Vulcans are susceptible to minority suppression.
- He eyed her with a minor frown, handing her a glass of water.::
- Ah, so *this* is where the conversation would end - at the notion that his people's society wasn't perfect. Sky smiled, accepting the glass and watching him fondly as he walked away to check on Faith.::
Blake: I feel like I'm being suppressed! ::She called after him with a sarcastic tone.::
Sabor: If I ever attempt to suppress you, my wife, you'll know.
Zhou recruits Blake 239205.16
Stardate is incorrect, as this is supposed to be set as Blake sets foot aboard Veritas. It's incredibly unlikely it takes two months for Zhou and Blake to return to the ship from their time on Ornara.
Cormac: Not only does she come from the Delos system, she can't remember a *shred* of Starfleet training. Not a single bit. She's an obvious security and *medical* liability. Why, then, is she now advising Veritas on her fellow Brekkian's activities when she might be one of them?
- Despite the look Zhou had actually given Cormac (which was amusing in it's rather obvious depiction of the thunder about to be vocalized), Sky stepped forward, arms crossed, speaking for herself. Cormac stood firm.::
Blake: My being from the Delos system makes me exactly the woman you're looking for. My "fellows"? I know how they think - most of them, anyway. That is my job outside of Starfleet. You wanna talk about my liability, then fine. But your ring leader is running free and you've got no clue how to get inside their head or even track their whereabouts without wasting half your resources and exposing you're onto him.
- The Terran blinked, moving his mouth but unable to form words. She turned to Zhou.::
Blake: I'll set up in Astrometrics until Sick Bay is ready for me.
Encounter remains unpublished.
Cormac: The Kos'karii.
- She looked up as he dropped a PADD on her desk, crossing his arms as he looked down at her.::
Blake: A Klingon pirate gang.
Cormac: They just took out our supply shipment.
- Sky dropped the PADD she'd already been reading, picking up his. That shipment? Included updated repair equipment, ration packs, star charts, info dumps - the entire kit and kaboodle.::
Blake: If we lose main power again, we're screwed. How the hell did they find it through the interference - they've been using longer routes just to *avoid* this happening.
Cormac: You're the Strategic Ops officer, you tell me.
- Her eyes pierced up at his blue orbs.::
Blake: You think I had something to do with this.
Cormac: I don't know what I think.
Blake: You're Speckops, Commander. If you have something to say, then you better damn well say it.
Cormac: You're damn right I have something to say. Every single day, I have questioned your place on this ship and you've done absolutely nothing to confirm or deny my suspicions. You've acted perfectly on your own accord, not even toeing the damn line. ::He uncrossed his arms, starting to pace in front of her desk.:: Kos'karii caught the shipment by coincidence. A patrol found them.
- She frowned, standing and shaking her head.::
Blake: Then why bring this to me? Why accuse me in the first place of being involved?
- The human stopped.::
Cormac: Gauging your reaction.
Blake: For *what*? Cormac, what the hell are you talking about?
Cormac: You lack empathy. Meet a group of civilians that require help, you're all on it. Our crew comes under threat, then fine, you're there. But throughout all of that, you don't show a shred of emotion. You're not a Vulcan, you're not heavy on religion - hell, you barely talk about your own kids. I can't *trust* someone that keeps themselves locked up in a cage.
Blake: My job, Commander, is to protect this ship, and to protect the people around us, to make sure I know everything and anything about the region we're stepping into. I don't have *time* to show empathy. Everything I've seen, everything I've been through in the last two years - you don't *want* me to show empathy, Commander. Because the second I do, I will get distracted. And I'd start to crumble in this job of mine.
- But the human just blinked, remaining motionless as he processed her words.::
Cormac: So you do feel.
Blake: I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I don't.
Encounter remains unpublished, but references to it have occurred on multiple occasions.
Cormac: The CP want us to start working together "like rational adults".
- She'd barely glanced at him when he'd sat in the chair across from her without even bothering to ask, drink in hand and out of uniform. She was enjoying her dinner, responding to Marshal requests for reports - two of them, neither of which had warrented anything from her, but given that their relationship was still tenuous at best, bowing to their wims at present seemed to be the appropriate course of action.::
Blake: Given that our roles here are a hair-width from being the same, I can't say I'm surprised.
Cormac: You think they'd have thought of that when they assigned you here.
- Sky huffed, putting down her fork and leaning forward on the table.::
Blake: You know what? They're right. We've been at each others throats for months now without end. So if I'm stepping on your Special Operations toes, let me know, and I'll go on my merry way. Otherwise, we need to determine exactly what each of us is supposed to be doing here.
- It was a rather delicate fued. When she'd been brought aboard, Sky had been assigned as Strategic Operations - meanwhile, the Veritas already had a Special Operations officer in Cormac. He was, despite citing her lack of experience and suitability in a Starfleet position, so obviously threatened by her that almost every word between them resulted in a snarky go-to from Cormac.::
- She'd like to think that part of this was because of an overall confusion as to whom was supposed to be doing what - a joke, she imagined, that Carrero had enjoyed playing on them as if to test their ability to work together. Cormac had been a Starfleet Ranger prior to his assignment to Veritas, having worked in the Shoals longer then pretty much all of them. Though his title implied a tie to Starfleet Intelligence, it was far from it. He collected the Starfleet reports about what was happening *outside* the region and assessed how they'd impact their operation within the region. He was an investigator at heart, unhappy when he felt he didn't have all the little pieces of information to explain anything and everything, and though he might have stretched rules himself, he was very by-the-book when it came to working with Marshals - again, having had the most experience out of all of them put together.
- The difference? While Cormac was assessing political climates and gathering information based upon what Starfleet could surmise and then piecing it all together to make a report for the Veritas, Blake was coordinating with any and all non-Starfleet, Marshal-based officers to work through the pirate attacks. "You track, he investigates," As Zhou had so aptly put it.
- By rights, they should have been best mates by now, joined at the hip and essentially reading each others mind - or at least, that's what Carrero likely would have hoped in a not-so-fairy-tale manner. Instead, they were at war.
- It wasn't Sky's fault, though. Not technically.::
- When he'd not responded to her after a few moments, she addressed him again, going back to her food.::
Blake: Don't look so morbid, Cormac. Your face will freeze that way.
- She'd fully expected him to jump over the table and try to strangle her (which as childish as hell), but thankfully he just took another swig of his drink.::
Cormac: Our offices are on different decks.
Cormac: We should probably change that.
Blake: I agree.
Cormac: So am I coming to your deck, or are you coming to mine?
Blake: How 'bout we just pick a whole new deck and work forward from there.
Shrmoa: I can't ascertain what causing the headache you described - it doesn't seem to be trauma from your . . impromptu battle. I believe you should have a few tests done in the event it's something to do with your dead lobe, but until you have more free time, I will have to wait. I can give you something for it-
Blake: Don't bother. I have a feeling it's psychogenic.
- The Tarkalean hummed at her assessment.::
Shrmoa: Keep thinking positive thoughts as recommended, Commander. And stay away from Orions.