Echoes of Jinara

Posted on Sun May 18th, 2025 @ 10:29am by Captain Taliserra Tigran

2,370 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: A marathon not a sprint
Location: Holodeck One
Timeline: Md07

The holodeck shimmered to life, transforming from a grid-lined chamber into an opulent Jinaran ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light across polished marble floors, and towering windows revealed a simulated cityscape beyond, bathed in twilight. The soft strains of a classical waltz filled the air, the melody swirling like a warm breeze.

At the center of it all, Lieutenant Dovenice Baka moved with careful precision, her boots replaced with elegant dancing slippers, her uniform swapped for a flowing gown befitting the era. Her steps traced an invisible partner, her hands held in practiced position as she twirled through the empty space, her brow furrowed in concentration.

The doors to the holodeck slid open with a quiet hiss, momentarily disrupting the immersion. Captain Taliserra Tigran stepped inside, her spots catching the ambient light as she took in the unexpected sight. She raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over her chest as she watched her chief engineer glide across the floor.

Dovenice, mid-spin, caught the motion in her periphery and stumbled slightly, her practiced rhythm faltering. She turned, breath slightly uneven, and found herself facing her captain.

“Captain,” she greeted, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Didn’t expect an audience.”

"I apologise for interrupting you Dovenice," Taliserra said giving her fellow Trill a small smile. "The computer said I'd find you here."

"Did I miss a meeting?" she asked, glancing toward the side table where her communicator lay hidden beneath a data PADD.

"No, no, stand easy." Taliserra raised her hands. "This is a social visit more than anything. I'm glad to see you enjoying yourself."

Feeling self-conscious about her flowing attire, she smoothed out her skirt. “I needed a break… and the ballroom helps with coordination—both in dancing and in keeping a starship from falling apart.” She gestured around the ornate simulation with a small smile. “Besides, it’s a little more elegant than a warp core diagnostic.”

Taliserra took several steps around the holographic venue "And much more relaxing, this is Jinaran right?" She wasn't too familiar with the artistic style but knew enough to pick out some of its specific themes.

Dovenice nodded, her expression brightening. “You have a good eye, Captain. Jinaran architecture has this way of blending elegance with grandeur—like everything is meant to be in motion, even when it’s standing still.” She twirled once more, letting the hem of her gown sweep through the air before settling.

She hesitated for a moment, then extended a hand. “Would you care for a dance, Captain? No pressure—just a friendly waltz.” Her smile turned playful. “After all, balance is just as important on the bridge as it is on the dance floor.”

"I could not waltz if my life depended on it." Taliserra replied. "My first host dabbled in formal dances, she was a gymnast but I never ever tried it."

Dovenice chuckled, tilting her head. “Well, lucky for you, I’m an engineer. Teaching people how to keep things balanced is kind of my specialty.”

She took a step closer, still holding out her hand. “Besides, first time for everything, right? No pressure—just one turn around the room. If nothing else, you’ll get to say you’ve danced in a Jinaran ballroom.”

Her smile softened, warm and encouraging. “And if you trip, well… I promise not to log it in the duty report.”

"Oh, if you do you'll find even a chief engineer can be made to scrub plasma manifolds for a week." Taliserra said, though with a smile on her face. Somewhat gingerly she took the engineer's hand.

Dovenice grinned, entirely unfazed. “Oh no, not plasma manifolds,” she said with mock horror. “Truly, a fate worse than death.” The teasing glint in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t the least bit intimidated.

With an easy confidence, she gave the captain’s hand a reassuring squeeze and led her toward the open space. With short command to the computer, soft orchestral music filled the air—a melody that carried the gentle, flowing rhythm of a classic waltz written in Jinara over 500 years ago.

“Alright,” Dove said, positioning them properly. “It’s all about timing and trust. Step back with your right foot, like this—” she demonstrated, guiding Taliserra into the movement. “Then left to the side… and together. See? One, two, three.”

She kept her tone light and encouraging. “You’re already getting it. Now, just follow my lead.”

Dove was more accustomed to following in dance, but with a strong frame and steady rhythm, leading wasn’t as difficult as she’d expected. She guided them through another step before flashing a playful smile.

“Okay, so waltzing might not be your thing, but with all those past lives, there has to be something you’re ridiculously good at. What’s your secret talent?”

Though she'd started off quite uncomfortable Taliserra had ended their short dancing session with a rare smile on her face. "Is social awkwardness a secret talent? Tigran has always had a strong negative influence on my social skills, it was the same with all the others too."

Dovenice tilted her head, considering that with a thoughtful hum. “If that’s true…” she said, her tone light but genuinely curious, “how did you manage to rise to the rank of Captain?”

Her words weren’t accusatory, nor was there skepticism in her voice—just a quiet fascination, as if she were studying an intricate mechanism and trying to understand how all the pieces fit together.

"I've been with the Wolff since I was a Lieutenant," Taliserra replied. "became the Xo a few years later. Stayed with the ship when she was almost blown apart, when a lot of the other officers were reassigned or transferred. Captain Emmerson took a desk job to raise her kids. She recommended me and so did the captain before her, Commadore Denevre, she was also pretty much solely responsible for the ship not getting decommissioned and scrapped."

Dovenice raised an eyebrow, impressed. “So basically, you got promoted because you were too stubborn to leave?” She smirked. “I respect that.”

She reached for a drink of water off a nearby table before adding, “Honestly, Captain, that kind of loyalty is rare. The Wolff must mean a hell of a lot to you.”

She glanced around the grand holographic ballroom, then back at Taliserra, her smile softening. “You know, for someone who claims to be socially awkward, you’re doing just fine. You danced, you reminisced—next thing you know, you’ll be hosting diplomatic banquets and making small talk like a pro.”

Dovenice tilted her head, a curious glint in her eyes. “Speaking of loyalty… if the Wolff means that much to you, was there ever a moment you thought about leaving? A time when the weight of command, or maybe something else, made you wonder if it was time to move on?”

She let the question hang for a beat, then added with a small, knowing smile, “Or are you really just that stubborn?”

"Maybe just a little stubborn, life hasn't been easy," Taliserra replied. "There was definitely a time where I debated leaving, it wasn't too long after I got assigned to the Wolff."

Dovenice nodded, stepping back slightly to let Taliserra have her space, though her gaze remained attentive. “That makes sense. First assignments can be… well, overwhelming. It’s like stepping onto a moving starship and trying to get your footing before it leaves you behind.”

She folded her arms loosely, considering the captain’s words. “But you stayed.” Her tone was more statement than question. “Something pulled you back, even when it might’ve been easier to walk away.”

Dove tilted her head, studying Taliserra with quiet curiosity. “Was it duty? The crew? Or something else?”

Then, with a small smirk, she added, “And don’t just say ‘stubbornness.’ That’s the easy answer.”

"That may be part of it," Taliserra replied. "Have you met my daughter Lashell?"

"I haven't," Dove answered. "Is she on the ship?"

Taliserra was surprised that she'd never seen Lashell but then she hadn't exactly toured the ship whole ship with Lashell in hand. "She is, a little over 3 years old now. She was part of my debating to leave, it is not a good story."

Dove’s expression remained open, patient. "I haven’t heard any of it. But if you’re willing to share, I’d like to listen." She pulled out a chair at a nearby table, inviting the captain to join her.

Joining the other Trill Taliserra sat down. "Are you aware of what they call the 'Mirror universe'?"

Dove nodded slowly. "I've heard of it, but mostly in the form of campfire stories—rumors passed around, exaggerated, and twisted over time. Nothing official, no reports. Just whispers of a place where everything is… different."

"Before I took command this ship had quite the history with that universe.. Probably shouldn't be telling you this as a lot of it is still somewhat classified." Taliserra said but decided to continue anyway. "Not long after I was assigned here as chief Ops, the ship got pulled into that universe through a massive rift. the ship was disabled and within an hour a terran empire ship came to investigate. Things started well and we thought we might get back without any conflict. Until I woke up on the Terran ship looking at an alternate version of me."

Dove leaned in slightly, her curiosity piqued. "An alternate version of you?" she echoed, her tone inviting more detail. "I've heard the stories, but never from someone who actually experienced it. What was she like? And how did you end up on their ship?"

Taliserra gave a slight shrug, even now she still wasn't sure exactly how. "I'm not 100% certain, I remember being alone in my office, someone I didn't recognise came in to talk to me, next thing I know I'm in a dark room on their ship. I didn't talk much with the alternate me but she came off as a sadist, I later learned she took my uniform and infiltrated the Wolff posing as me."

Dove's expression tightened with concern. “She took your place on the Wolff? That must have been a nightmare for the crew—who knows what damage she could have done.” She paused, considering the weight of Taliserra’s story. “And this all happened not long after you joined the ship… Is that how it connects to your daughter? Was she involved in some way?”

"Lashell is a result of her actions." Taliserra replied. "Her last words were 'Tell the guards they can have fun with her but keep her alive' and they did. Several of them, multiple times. One of them is Lashell's father."

Dove felt the breath leave her lungs as if she'd been struck. Her stomach twisted, and for a moment, she could only stare at Taliserra, horror flashing across her face. "Stars above..." she finally breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Taliserra, I—I don’t even have the words.” She swallowed hard, struggling to contain the storm of emotions surging through her. “I’m so sorry. No one should have to endure that… and to have it shape your daughter’s very existence…” She hesitated, searching the captain’s face. “How… how have you managed to carry this?”

"It has been a struggle. They diagnosed me with Ptsd within a few weeks, asked me if I wanted medically discharging from the fleet and I seriously considered it. I find myself very distrustful of men in general, I've not let anyone near me since." Taliserra replied, though she thought straight away about Dr El-Azar who she had but only under extreme coercion.

Dove’s fingers curled slightly against the table’s edge, grounding herself against the weight of Taliserra’s words. A slow breath steadied her, but the ache in her chest lingered—a silent testament to the sheer resilience sitting across from her.

She didn’t rush to fill the silence. Instead, she let it settle, offering space for Taliserra’s truth to exist without expectation or judgment. Finally, she nodded, her voice quiet but firm.

“That you stayed… that you kept going, kept leading, kept raising your daughter in spite of all of that?” She exhaled, shaking her head with quiet admiration. “That isn’t just stubbornness, Captain. That’s strength.”

Her gaze softened, losing some of the sharp wit she so often carried. “I don’t know if trust gets easier, or if time makes it any less of a battle. But for whatever it’s worth, you don’t have to carry all of it alone.” A faint smile tugged at her lips, something gentle, unspoken. “And if you ever need to escape it, even just for a little while—well, the holodeck’s always open for another dance.”

It wasn’t much, but it was honest. And sometimes, that was the best thing she could offer.

"Thank you for your kind words Dovenice, I may have to take you up on that occasionally " Taliserra said and managed a small smile. "I've not told this story to many."

Dove’s expression softened, understanding passing between them like an unspoken promise. “That means a lot, Captain. Truly.” She held Taliserra’s gaze, her voice steady. “I know trust doesn’t come easy—especially not with something like this. The fact that you shared it with me… I’m honored.”

She let the silence breathe for a moment, then exhaled lightly, glancing around the ballroom. “Well,” she said, a touch of humor returning to her voice, “as much as I’d love to spend the rest of the evening pretending I’m a socialite, I should probably get back to real work before the engines start questioning my loyalty.”

With an easy smile, she stood, giving Taliserra a respectful nod. “If you ever need anything, Captain—on duty or off—you know where to find me.” With that, she gathered her things, leaving Taliserra to the quiet grandeur of the holodeck, a sense of understanding lingering between them.


OFF

Captain Taliserra Tigran
Commanding Officer

Lieutenant Dovenice Baka
Chief Engineer

 

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