Introduction
Posted on Wed Dec 17, 2025 @ 5:11pm by Commander Tayanita 'Tay' Lio'ven & Lieutenant Commander Curtis Thibideaux
Edited on on Sat Jan 10, 2026 @ 4:58am
1,544 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
Chicken Run
Location: Officer's Quarters, DS5
Timeline: Before the Marine Corp Ball
Peering at himself in the mirror, Curtis looked at his dress whites and sighed. He hadn’t planned on wearing these again so soon, but he’d only been fooling himself. The gold trimming and dark grey shirt underneath had never really appealed to him. At his first Admiral’s insistence, Curtis had gotten the uniform tailor made by Gieves & Hawkes while he'd been on Earth and had kept it fitted. He’d polished the shoes the day before and touched them up this morning before his run and now he ran one last skeptical eye over the mirrored image.
Clean shaven and wearing simple sandalwood and citrus cologne he judged himself suitably turned out, even if he’d chosen to keep his hair unruly. The Marine Ball called for a certain formality. Tayanita’s acceptance made him actually look forward to going. He could still feel her gentle kiss on his cheek. He’d also spent a fair amount of time on the flowers. Collecting those, he made his way toward her quarters on Hab Ring C, Section twelve.
Tay stood before the long wall mirror, smoothing a final crease from the deep green gown that draped softly over her frame. It wasn’t elaborate—she’d never been one for glitter or unnecessary ornament—but the colour reminded her of old forests, of moss and cedar and places where the world felt quiet and alive. The fabric caught the light when she moved, like the shifting sheen of river water. Comfortable. Elegant. Hers.
She fastened the simple clasp at her shoulder—an old Oneida-style silver piece carved with a subtle wave pattern. A small echo of home without being out of place in a Starfleet ballroom.
Her hair she wore mostly down, loose waves falling along her back, just a few strands pulled into a braid and tied with soft leather. Nothing stiff or ceremonial. Just honest.
For a moment she studied her reflection—not critically, just with a soft, inward smile. Nine-and-a-half centuries of introductions, dances, dinners… and somehow this one felt different. Maybe it was the sincerity in Curtis’ voice. Maybe the nervousness he’d tried to hide. Maybe the way he’d stood just close enough to shield her from foot traffic in the corridor without ever crowding her.
Maybe the gentle warmth of his cheek under her kiss.
Tay drew a slow breath, settling her thoughts. She placed a small bowl of sage and cedar on the console and lit it with a thumb-flick—just a touch of grounding scent, a habit older than starships.
'First impressions matter,' her mother had always said.
'But the quiet between them matters more.'
When the door chime finally sounded, her smile arrived without effort.
She crossed the room, gathering the soft trailing edge of her dress so it wouldn’t sweep the floor, and paused just long enough to let her heartbeat steady into something calm and warm.
Then she touched the door panel.
It slid open to reveal Curtis in his dress whites, polished shoes gleaming, flowers in hand. And for a rare moment, Tay felt her breath catch—just slightly.
Her lips curved into a slow, genuine smile. “Curtis… you clean up beautifully.”
A beat. Warm eyes. A soft tilt of her head.
“And you’re right on time.”
Curtis let his eyes drink her in from heel to crown, appreciating the effort she'd taken and her in general. "You're beautiful," he said truthfully, then grinned. "Nice dress."
Holding up the bouquet of white roses he'd brought with, Curtis's HUD picked up the time release pods that had been inserted in the stems. He whispered the word caméléonnehaving chosen the feminine form of the French word. He brushed the rose nearest him against his dress whites and trim, then let a bud touch her dress and the roses began to bloom, sifting through bright red to pink before they faded to a yellow and blues began to sift through the buds till a green matching Tay's dress. Some of the petals were green with white frosted tips while others were white with green frosted tips and they all had gold lines tracing.
His HUD caught his eye movement to stop the ageing process and he held up the bouquet to her. "Cameleon roses from Brumby. They do pale in comparison to you, but they are simple roses after all." He'd rehearsed that line in his head while walking and still wasn't sure, but it sounded kinda good.
Tay didn’t rush her reaction. She let the moment settle naturally, her eyes following the roses as their colours shifted and bloomed in his hands. When the green finally matched her dress, she smiled—soft, unmistakably genuine.
“Well,” she said quietly, “that’s rather lovely.”
She brushed a fingertip over one frosted petal, careful, appreciative. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.” Her gaze lifted back to his, warmth easy and unguarded.
At his line, she laughed—low and affectionate—and tipped her head. “You absolutely practiced that,” she said gently. “And it was sweet. A little dramatic,” she added, amused, “but sweet.”
She took the bouquet from him. “Roses don’t need to compete with anyone. They just need to be chosen well.” A beat. “And these were.”
With a small tilt of her shoulder, she invited him inside as the doors slid open. “Come in before they wilt on us. I’ll find them a vase—seems a shame to let something this thoughtful suffer for timing.”
Her quarters were calm and warm, lived-in without fuss. She set the roses into water with practiced care, then glanced back at him, expression soft.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” she said honestly. “But I’m glad you did.”
A faint, playful smile followed. “If this is how the evening starts, Curtis… I think the Ball’s going to be just fine.”
Curtis followed her into her quarters, recognizing that how a person chose to personalize their living space said quite a bit about that person. "Nice digs," he said, smile quirking as he used slang some probably wouldn't know, but could easily figure out. "And of course I had to bring flowers," he said, trying not to get too distracted as she turned and walked ahead. "A wise man once told me that bringing a bright, floral gift that won't overstay it's welcome is a perfect thing for new acquaintances. Hopefully, they'll remind you of me over the next few days."
Tay glanced back over her shoulder as she crossed the room, a quiet smile already forming. Her quarters were neat, but not pristine — a place meant to be lived in. Woven textiles hung alongside Starfleet-issue furnishings, their patterns unmistakably Oneida in origin. A small carved piece rested near the window, smooth with age and handling, and a few pressed leaves were framed with care rather than display. Nothing shouted its importance, but everything had a story.
“Thanks,” she said easily. “I’ve moved enough times to know what I need around me. Things that remind me where I’ve been… and who I was before all this.” She gestured vaguely, amused.
She found a vase tucked away on a low shelf and filled it with water, taking her time as she set the roses in place. When the colours finished shifting, she paused, genuinely taken with them. “Well,” she murmured, “that’s impressive. Flowers that know when they’ve said enough — I like that.”
At his comment about reminding her of him, she turned back, eyes bright with quiet humour. “Careful,” she said lightly. “I don’t forget easily.”
Then, softer — no tease this time. “But thank you. They’re thoughtful. And I don’t get many surprises these days.”
She stepped back from the vase and faced him fully, her smile warmer now, more open. For a brief moment, she reached out and brushed her fingers against his sleeve — a small, affectionate touch, unhurried and sincere.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”
"I'm not taking any chances on being forgotten, "Curtis said as he slipped through the hatch first, then offered Tay his elbow before heading for the lifts. "The flowers are coded to change colors randomly on the sunrise cycle for as long as they last. If you prefer a certain color, well...you just need to tell them."
Tayanita slipped her hand through the crook of his arm with an ease that felt unforced, familiar in a way that surprised even her. As they walked, she glanced at him sidelong, a quiet smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
“Random colours on sunrise,” she repeated softly. “That feels about right.”
Her thumb brushed lightly against his sleeve, a small, affectionate gesture. “If I decide I have a favourite, I’ll let them know. But I think I like the idea of waking up to something unexpected.”
With that, she straightened as the lift came into view, calm and luminous beside him, ready to step into the evening together.
END
A joint post by:
Lieutenant Commander Curtis Thibideaux
Strategic Operations
DS 5
Commander Tayanita Lio'ven
Chief Medical Officer
DS 5
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