Ensign Ivalyan Keros- don’t fall please

[Leia Stretz]

((Aboard the MTF Maximum Thrusters))

Sylvax’s words landed differently than she expected.

I would.

Ivalyan’s eyes lifted from the floor, just slightly. Not enough to be obvious. Just enough to recalibrate.

She had braced for correction. For the quiet, professional dismissal that came wrapped in encouragement. Thank you, Ensign, we’ll take it from here. She knew what that sounded like. She’d heard it before. Academy instructors were particularly skilled at it.

This wasn’t that.

Ivalyan: ::barely above a breath:: …oh.

Willow/Sylvax: ?

She didn’t say anything else immediately. There wasn’t anything to say that wouldn’t come out wrong or stuttered into something unrecognizable. Instead she let herself actually think, really think, turning the conversation over in her mind the way she turned problems over when no one was watching.

Sylvax wasn’t dismissing her pragmatism. Willow wasn’t either, not really. They were shaping it. Refining it. Giving it edges she hadn’t thought to give it herself. The deception angle, she still believed in the instinct behind it, even if the execution was flawed. There was something there worth salvaging. She just hadn’t found the right words for it yet.

Fresh eyes. She could work with that. She would work with that.

Ivalyan: ::quietly, mostly to herself:: F-fresh eyes…

Willow/Sylvax: ?

She opened her mouth, had something forming, something almost coherent.

The deck moved.

It started low, beneath her boots, and Ivalyan’s first instinct was to widen her stance the way she’d been trained. Her second instinct, unfortunately, won. The second jolt hit sharper and her boot caught the leg of the conference table and she stumbled. Not dramatically, not enough to fall, but enough. Enough to knock her shoulder hard into the bulkhead and have to catch herself with both hands flat against the wall like she was personally offended by gravity.

Ivalyan: ::hissing quietly, swearing::.

Willow/Sylvax: ?

She straightened immediately. Tugged her jacket. Smoothed it once more than necessary. Absolutely did not look at either senior officer. If she didn’t make eye contact, the stumble technically hadn’t happened. That was how that worked. Probably.

The ship settled with a final, heavy thud and then stillness. The breathing kind. The kind that meant they’d arrived and there was no more time to think and only time to do.

When the comm chirped and Sylvax answered Ross, Ivalyan used the moment to pull herself the rest of the way back together. Cores. Temurians. Trader named Kiro. Leader named Leda. Civilian clothes.

Parameters. Focus on the parameters.

Sylvax: Let’s suit up, civilian clothes, then we will meet at the settlement. We are expected to meet with one of their leaders. ::he scanned his PADD:: Her name is Leda.

Ivalyan looked up at that. Something clicked.

Ivalyan: ::quickly, before her nerve could dissolve:: W-w-would it not make more sense to meet K-Kiro first? ::She glanced between them, steadier now, chin up just slightly.:: If he’s already expecting us… we establish c-c-commerce footing before leadership. Lower the stakes of the first impression. Let Leda hear we’ve already done b-business before she meets us.

She paused. Let it sit. Waited to see if it landed.

Ivalyan: S-sirs.

Willow/Sylvax: ?

Ensign Ivalyan Keros

Counselor

SB 118 Ops

O240304IK3

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