Flt. Capt. Karrod Niac - The Loudest Kind of Silence
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Karrod Niac
Mar 18, 2026, 12:43:45 AMMar 18
to USS Ronin – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Ready Room, Deck 3, USS Ronin))
Niac: Lieutenant I appreciate the fact you're a visitor here and you're unfamiliar with how we do things but I take an interest in anybody who steps through that door, regardless of their rank or role. The only reason the Ronin can do what it does is because the crew trusts one another...so I'd encourage you to, however temporarily, embrace that. The people here are among the finest I've ever served with...I hope you'll trust them so, should anything happen, they'll know they can trust you.
His office lapsed into an uncomfortable and profoundly Vulcan silence but Karrod kept his gaze steady. Some part of him said this officer had brought some baggage aboard that didn't contain boxer shorts with little Starfleet deltas.
Taj'el: I… merely neglected to reapply my gloves.
His attention snapped to the mans hands for a moment and then back, curious.
Niac: Gloves, Lieutenant?
Taj’el: Yes, Captain…my gloves. During my service in Starfleet I have discovered that I possess… limited control over my telepathic abilities. ::They tapped their fingers together briefly in thought before continuing:: While it is a matter I am actively addressing, it is presently advisable that I minimize direct dermal contact. As such, I have adopted the use of standard-issue gloves. Now that I find myself aboard a new vessel, among unfamiliar individuals, it would be prudent for me to resume wearing them promptly.
Karrod's face scrunched together in thought for a moment and he walked away from the desk and mounted the two small steps towards his lounge and, more importantly, his replicator. He tapped at the access panel and found that it had mercifully chosen to accept his existence as genuine.
Niac: What size are you?
Taj’el: Sir?
He nodded back towards the replicator.
Niac: Glove size?
Taj’el: Response
Karrod pressed his lips together and hoped that whatever Ensign Wren had done to restore his systems access held out just a bit longer.
Niac: You're right...Computer, access personnel file on visiting officer Taj'el, Lieutenant Junior Grade, on temporary assignment from the USS Thor. Load biometrics and create fitted standard issue duty gloves. ::He tapped a few commands into the display with a smile:: Add the following modification to the base design and then replicate.
Karrod held his breath as the computer stuttered and chirped then blew it out all at once when it finally replied.
Computer: Access granted, biometrics loaded, modified design elements loaded. Standby.
It took the ships computer only a moment to make the small changes he'd requested before the gloves themselves shimmered into existence. He picked them up, smiled at the small replica of the ships crest embroidered on the uppers, and casually tossed them over.
Niac: I won't have an officer in my command serving under that kind of discomfort, Lieutenant. A few years ago I had a brief and very unpleasant run-in with with telepathic abilities I couldn't control and I wouldn't wish that on anybody.
((Flashback, Stardate 240012.19, Bridge, USS Excalibur-A))
Niac (as Morgan): I don’t care who anybody is but if you don’t stop yelling I’m getting in an escape pod.
Silveira (as Bean): None of us was yelling. I assume you're not Commander Morgan. Since she is betazoid your probably listening the thought’s of other, not the voices.
Karrod reflexively backed away, the words directed at him seemed to have their own carrier wave of focused emotion that briefly overwhelmed the discordant chorus of noise all around him. The thoughts behind them seemed to burn into his consciousness like a handlight being shone directly into his eyes. If Karrod didn't figure out a way to turn down the volume soon he was going to go mad.
MacKenzie (as Tiberius): Astute…
Niac (as Morgan): No it’s…it’s your new ops officer Karrod…but I seem to have…misplaced the rest of me.
Karrod felt a pang of sympathy mixed with a shade of fear from somewhere off to his left. Someone had just thought how bad it must be to suddenly get stuck in a telepath, and someone on the bridge was hungry, and someone else far below was frantically scratching their ear with nearly transcendent relief, and someone was drowning who wasn't drowning and on and on. A rainbow of a billion different hues was all around him and he retreated inwards, desperate and increasingly in pain. He found within his mind a small still place and rushed towards it like a ship running for harbor ahead of a storm.
Silveira (as Bean): I would say all of you, because it looks like you got the short straw so far… Ma’am.
The voices were still there but now seemed to be...further. He didn't have the right vocabulary to even begin assigning words to experience and could only think of it as thin apartment wall between himself and a ballroom hosting a raucous party. His breathing slowed to something less like hyperventilation and the room came back into focus.
Niac (as Morgan): Ok..Ok...ok...if everyone could just stop...thinking at me...for just a second...::Someone's stray thought wandered through his mind and Karrod blushed::...my ass does not look great!...::Karrod shook his head and focused on the console::...sorry...look...I need the original owner of this thing ::Karrod tapped his borrowed skull:: to give me some flying lessons, quick like.
((End Flashback))
Karrod shook his head as if to dispel the unpleasant memory and nodded towards the gloves.
Niac: Wear those with pride as long as you need to.
Taj’el: Response
Karrod nodded, the Vulcan's mostly inscrutable expression endlessly amusing to someone who knew what to look for.
Niac: I'm glad that's settled. I hope your time aboard the Ronin is productive...both for your research and for you personally. Oh and check in with me before you return to the Thor...I'll have a message I want carried back to her Captain.
Taj’el: Response
Karrod nodded, returning to his desk and his irritatingly locked terminal. He sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get out of a visit to sickbay.
Niac: In that case Lieutenant you're dismissed.
Taj’el: Response
He smiled as the Vulcan walked out of his office, a sense of warm sentimentality tugging at him. If he had a slip of latinum for every diminutive Vulcan that had been in the ready room over the years he'd have two slips. Which wasn't a lot...but it was pleasantly weird that it had happened twice.
[Tags/End for Niac!]
================================
Fleet Captain Karrod Niac
Commanding Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
V239509GT0
Niac: Lieutenant I appreciate the fact you're a visitor here and you're unfamiliar with how we do things but I take an interest in anybody who steps through that door, regardless of their rank or role. The only reason the Ronin can do what it does is because the crew trusts one another...so I'd encourage you to, however temporarily, embrace that. The people here are among the finest I've ever served with...I hope you'll trust them so, should anything happen, they'll know they can trust you.
His office lapsed into an uncomfortable and profoundly Vulcan silence but Karrod kept his gaze steady. Some part of him said this officer had brought some baggage aboard that didn't contain boxer shorts with little Starfleet deltas.
Taj'el: I… merely neglected to reapply my gloves.
His attention snapped to the mans hands for a moment and then back, curious.
Niac: Gloves, Lieutenant?
Taj’el: Yes, Captain…my gloves. During my service in Starfleet I have discovered that I possess… limited control over my telepathic abilities. ::They tapped their fingers together briefly in thought before continuing:: While it is a matter I am actively addressing, it is presently advisable that I minimize direct dermal contact. As such, I have adopted the use of standard-issue gloves. Now that I find myself aboard a new vessel, among unfamiliar individuals, it would be prudent for me to resume wearing them promptly.
Karrod's face scrunched together in thought for a moment and he walked away from the desk and mounted the two small steps towards his lounge and, more importantly, his replicator. He tapped at the access panel and found that it had mercifully chosen to accept his existence as genuine.
Niac: What size are you?
Taj’el: Sir?
He nodded back towards the replicator.
Niac: Glove size?
Taj’el: Response
Karrod pressed his lips together and hoped that whatever Ensign Wren had done to restore his systems access held out just a bit longer.
Niac: You're right...Computer, access personnel file on visiting officer Taj'el, Lieutenant Junior Grade, on temporary assignment from the USS Thor. Load biometrics and create fitted standard issue duty gloves. ::He tapped a few commands into the display with a smile:: Add the following modification to the base design and then replicate.
Karrod held his breath as the computer stuttered and chirped then blew it out all at once when it finally replied.
Computer: Access granted, biometrics loaded, modified design elements loaded. Standby.
It took the ships computer only a moment to make the small changes he'd requested before the gloves themselves shimmered into existence. He picked them up, smiled at the small replica of the ships crest embroidered on the uppers, and casually tossed them over.
Niac: I won't have an officer in my command serving under that kind of discomfort, Lieutenant. A few years ago I had a brief and very unpleasant run-in with with telepathic abilities I couldn't control and I wouldn't wish that on anybody.
((Flashback, Stardate 240012.19, Bridge, USS Excalibur-A))
Niac (as Morgan): I don’t care who anybody is but if you don’t stop yelling I’m getting in an escape pod.
Silveira (as Bean): None of us was yelling. I assume you're not Commander Morgan. Since she is betazoid your probably listening the thought’s of other, not the voices.
Karrod reflexively backed away, the words directed at him seemed to have their own carrier wave of focused emotion that briefly overwhelmed the discordant chorus of noise all around him. The thoughts behind them seemed to burn into his consciousness like a handlight being shone directly into his eyes. If Karrod didn't figure out a way to turn down the volume soon he was going to go mad.
MacKenzie (as Tiberius): Astute…
Niac (as Morgan): No it’s…it’s your new ops officer Karrod…but I seem to have…misplaced the rest of me.
Karrod felt a pang of sympathy mixed with a shade of fear from somewhere off to his left. Someone had just thought how bad it must be to suddenly get stuck in a telepath, and someone on the bridge was hungry, and someone else far below was frantically scratching their ear with nearly transcendent relief, and someone was drowning who wasn't drowning and on and on. A rainbow of a billion different hues was all around him and he retreated inwards, desperate and increasingly in pain. He found within his mind a small still place and rushed towards it like a ship running for harbor ahead of a storm.
Silveira (as Bean): I would say all of you, because it looks like you got the short straw so far… Ma’am.
The voices were still there but now seemed to be...further. He didn't have the right vocabulary to even begin assigning words to experience and could only think of it as thin apartment wall between himself and a ballroom hosting a raucous party. His breathing slowed to something less like hyperventilation and the room came back into focus.
Niac (as Morgan): Ok..Ok...ok...if everyone could just stop...thinking at me...for just a second...::Someone's stray thought wandered through his mind and Karrod blushed::...my ass does not look great!...::Karrod shook his head and focused on the console::...sorry...look...I need the original owner of this thing ::Karrod tapped his borrowed skull:: to give me some flying lessons, quick like.
((End Flashback))
Karrod shook his head as if to dispel the unpleasant memory and nodded towards the gloves.
Niac: Wear those with pride as long as you need to.
Taj’el: Response
Karrod nodded, the Vulcan's mostly inscrutable expression endlessly amusing to someone who knew what to look for.
Niac: I'm glad that's settled. I hope your time aboard the Ronin is productive...both for your research and for you personally. Oh and check in with me before you return to the Thor...I'll have a message I want carried back to her Captain.
Taj’el: Response
Karrod nodded, returning to his desk and his irritatingly locked terminal. He sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get out of a visit to sickbay.
Niac: In that case Lieutenant you're dismissed.
Taj’el: Response
He smiled as the Vulcan walked out of his office, a sense of warm sentimentality tugging at him. If he had a slip of latinum for every diminutive Vulcan that had been in the ready room over the years he'd have two slips. Which wasn't a lot...but it was pleasantly weird that it had happened twice.
[Tags/End for Niac!]
================================
Fleet Captain Karrod Niac
Commanding Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
V239509GT0
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