[JP] Second Secretary Aitas & Jakarn - Ichi-go ichi-e
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armiece
Nov 12, 2025, 7:55:30 PM11/12/25
to Amity Outpost – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Master Bedroom, Deck 3, SS Telame))
Aitas had fallen into a long sleep afterward, broken only sporadically by the memory of Jakarn’s movements, the brief scent of food, her own voice raised in Eccian. Her hand on his chest and their thoughts so fragilely intertwined.
There was still a warm space on the bed where he’d been.
She rolled over into it and pulled the blankets tighter around her. Ordered her thoughts to a more focused sort of muddle, words in the languages she had known first.
Aitas: Is it too late for breakfast, you old comet?
It was a good word for how things went between them, one that could mean welcome visitor as well. To drift by on pleasant occasion and linger just long enough, an intermittent joy.
He drifted back into her peripheral vision now, freshly showered, that coral-pink robe of his tied loosely at the waist. The bed was at the end of the room, raised and tucked into an also den-like alcove that offered both privacy and decadence.
Jakarn: Hardly. According to your station, it’s barely noon.
He held two glasses as he sat at the edge of the bed, handing her one. It was water, clear and cold.
She took the glass and swallowed half of it in one gulp.
Aitas: Ah. That almost tempts me to go back to bed. But I really should eat something.
Her sense of smell had been a bit overstrong of late, and thus rather limiting for her options.
Jakarn: Mmm. I can replicate something; give me a few minutes.
He glanced at his own glass of water, shrugged one shoulder, and set it on one of the bedside tables for her. He glittered as he moved away, exposed golden cybernetics catching the low ambient lights.
She finished the first glass of water, then wrapped the blanket around herself and stood, a bit unsteady.
For once, she had the good sense to promptly sit right back down.
He found her burritoed in the comforter when he came back, a wry smile on his face at the sight. He set a serving dish down next to her. It was arranged carefully, in that strangely elegant and quick way he tended to do things. It bore small pastries, a dish of fresh uttaberries, and simple comforting staples. Old traditions died hard for him, and the triangular pastries were set in the shape of a flower, the berries piled to form a budding center.
He kissed her cheek as he sat down, apparently fully recharged.
Jakarn: Eat; you’ll feel better.
She stared down at the pastries and traced a finger across the pattern of petals, then lifted it and took a more cautious bite.
Aitas: You’re spoiling me again. ::smiling:: You’d best be careful or I’ll have to sabotage something while your back is turned.
Though she would hardly resort to a knife.
Jakarn: Don’t tempt me. It’s been a few years now since someone tried to kill me. I’m beginning to miss it.
He drew his legs up, adopting the lotus position as he sat next to her, looking up at the dome above the bed. Right now it’d switched to show the stars, though the Telame itself sat anchored inside Amity’s docking dome.
Jakarn: I supposed the Delta Quadrant can supply some new ones, though. These last people you encountered - what were they? You mentioned - saw - telepathic trees…
Aitas: And cities built around them. They were more hospitable than the Hovans, overall.
She pulled back a little fragment of the memories, those first diplomatic overtures to the Uwezo, and brushed her fingertips across the back of his hand to share it.
Jakarn: Cities around trees…hmm.
It clearly seemed familiar to him, but given what their shared connection often meant, it was clear he was sorting between his own actual memories and the brief, transient connections he had with hers. He stroked his beard thoughtfully.
She finished off a pastry while he thought; those had disappeared quite rapidly. Her eyes closed for a moment, seeking back through the memories herself.
They were already fading back into their proper places; filed away lest the sheer weight of his overwhelm her.
Aitas: It was the Hovans your people visited, before. At least from what you told me.
Jakarn: Ah, yes. That name does sound familiar. ::He shook his head as if to clear it.:: Apologies. My memory right after is…odd.
The El-Aurians, for all their long memory and longer lives, weren’t often telepathic or empathic. They could seem so to some, he’d found - a common mistake when centuries of experience allowed you to predict people quite accurately. But it did make his connections with her, however brief, somewhat scrambling.
Aitas: I know the feeling.
It had been easier for her this time, a benefit of experience, no doubt. She’d struggled to remember anything save Eccian the first time, and had had nightmares about the Borg for..
Well, those had never completely faded.
Aitas: I could suggest a few meditation techniques, if you’d like. ::she set the plate, now emptied, back on the bedside table.:: But I’m hardly at my best either.
Jakarn huffed a half-laugh.
Jakarn: Oh, I’ll be fine. This is hardly the first time we’ve had to disentangle, my dear.
He patted her hand, looking at the now mostly empty plate.
Jakarn: Shall I get you more food?
Aitas: I’d appreciate it. My body is still trying to remember that it needs to do things other than, well—
She gestured broadly at the rather disheveled shape of the room. And the roughly Jakarn-sized dent in the wall.
He laughed, soft and genuine, and touched the top of her hand again. His touch was gentle as he raised her hand and kissed it, eyes meeting hers under drooped eyelashes.
Jakarn: Whatever you need, my dear.
That tempted a smile from her, the tired sort that meant she was being truly honest. It wasn’t one she showed to many people these days.
Not that she’d ever been too open with it before.
Aitas: ::teasing:: That’s a dangerous thing to offer.
His blue eyes sparkled up at her, intrigued and mischievous.
Jakarn: And have I ever shied from danger?
She rested one hand on his chest, then ran it up toward his shoulder, to cup his chin.
Aitas: You’re here, aren’t you?
She didn’t need to say more than that. Pon farr wasn’t exactly what most would categorize as safe.
Second Secretary Aitas
Federation Diplomatic Corps
Amity Outpost
O239307A10
Jakarn
Author & Celebrity
As simmed by
Lieutenant Taelon (Guest)
Science Officer
USS Gorkon
O239303T10
Aitas had fallen into a long sleep afterward, broken only sporadically by the memory of Jakarn’s movements, the brief scent of food, her own voice raised in Eccian. Her hand on his chest and their thoughts so fragilely intertwined.
There was still a warm space on the bed where he’d been.
She rolled over into it and pulled the blankets tighter around her. Ordered her thoughts to a more focused sort of muddle, words in the languages she had known first.
Aitas: Is it too late for breakfast, you old comet?
It was a good word for how things went between them, one that could mean welcome visitor as well. To drift by on pleasant occasion and linger just long enough, an intermittent joy.
He drifted back into her peripheral vision now, freshly showered, that coral-pink robe of his tied loosely at the waist. The bed was at the end of the room, raised and tucked into an also den-like alcove that offered both privacy and decadence.
Jakarn: Hardly. According to your station, it’s barely noon.
He held two glasses as he sat at the edge of the bed, handing her one. It was water, clear and cold.
She took the glass and swallowed half of it in one gulp.
Aitas: Ah. That almost tempts me to go back to bed. But I really should eat something.
Her sense of smell had been a bit overstrong of late, and thus rather limiting for her options.
Jakarn: Mmm. I can replicate something; give me a few minutes.
He glanced at his own glass of water, shrugged one shoulder, and set it on one of the bedside tables for her. He glittered as he moved away, exposed golden cybernetics catching the low ambient lights.
She finished the first glass of water, then wrapped the blanket around herself and stood, a bit unsteady.
For once, she had the good sense to promptly sit right back down.
He found her burritoed in the comforter when he came back, a wry smile on his face at the sight. He set a serving dish down next to her. It was arranged carefully, in that strangely elegant and quick way he tended to do things. It bore small pastries, a dish of fresh uttaberries, and simple comforting staples. Old traditions died hard for him, and the triangular pastries were set in the shape of a flower, the berries piled to form a budding center.
He kissed her cheek as he sat down, apparently fully recharged.
Jakarn: Eat; you’ll feel better.
She stared down at the pastries and traced a finger across the pattern of petals, then lifted it and took a more cautious bite.
Aitas: You’re spoiling me again. ::smiling:: You’d best be careful or I’ll have to sabotage something while your back is turned.
Though she would hardly resort to a knife.
Jakarn: Don’t tempt me. It’s been a few years now since someone tried to kill me. I’m beginning to miss it.
He drew his legs up, adopting the lotus position as he sat next to her, looking up at the dome above the bed. Right now it’d switched to show the stars, though the Telame itself sat anchored inside Amity’s docking dome.
Jakarn: I supposed the Delta Quadrant can supply some new ones, though. These last people you encountered - what were they? You mentioned - saw - telepathic trees…
Aitas: And cities built around them. They were more hospitable than the Hovans, overall.
She pulled back a little fragment of the memories, those first diplomatic overtures to the Uwezo, and brushed her fingertips across the back of his hand to share it.
Jakarn: Cities around trees…hmm.
It clearly seemed familiar to him, but given what their shared connection often meant, it was clear he was sorting between his own actual memories and the brief, transient connections he had with hers. He stroked his beard thoughtfully.
She finished off a pastry while he thought; those had disappeared quite rapidly. Her eyes closed for a moment, seeking back through the memories herself.
They were already fading back into their proper places; filed away lest the sheer weight of his overwhelm her.
Aitas: It was the Hovans your people visited, before. At least from what you told me.
Jakarn: Ah, yes. That name does sound familiar. ::He shook his head as if to clear it.:: Apologies. My memory right after is…odd.
The El-Aurians, for all their long memory and longer lives, weren’t often telepathic or empathic. They could seem so to some, he’d found - a common mistake when centuries of experience allowed you to predict people quite accurately. But it did make his connections with her, however brief, somewhat scrambling.
Aitas: I know the feeling.
It had been easier for her this time, a benefit of experience, no doubt. She’d struggled to remember anything save Eccian the first time, and had had nightmares about the Borg for..
Well, those had never completely faded.
Aitas: I could suggest a few meditation techniques, if you’d like. ::she set the plate, now emptied, back on the bedside table.:: But I’m hardly at my best either.
Jakarn huffed a half-laugh.
Jakarn: Oh, I’ll be fine. This is hardly the first time we’ve had to disentangle, my dear.
He patted her hand, looking at the now mostly empty plate.
Jakarn: Shall I get you more food?
Aitas: I’d appreciate it. My body is still trying to remember that it needs to do things other than, well—
She gestured broadly at the rather disheveled shape of the room. And the roughly Jakarn-sized dent in the wall.
He laughed, soft and genuine, and touched the top of her hand again. His touch was gentle as he raised her hand and kissed it, eyes meeting hers under drooped eyelashes.
Jakarn: Whatever you need, my dear.
That tempted a smile from her, the tired sort that meant she was being truly honest. It wasn’t one she showed to many people these days.
Not that she’d ever been too open with it before.
Aitas: ::teasing:: That’s a dangerous thing to offer.
His blue eyes sparkled up at her, intrigued and mischievous.
Jakarn: And have I ever shied from danger?
She rested one hand on his chest, then ran it up toward his shoulder, to cup his chin.
Aitas: You’re here, aren’t you?
She didn’t need to say more than that. Pon farr wasn’t exactly what most would categorize as safe.
Second Secretary Aitas
Federation Diplomatic Corps
Amity Outpost
O239307A10
&
Jakarn
Author & Celebrity
As simmed by
Lieutenant Taelon (Guest)
Science Officer
USS Gorkon
O239303T10
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