" Symphony of the Night "
[Previous Post "The Mathematical Probabilities of the Situation" by Jessica]
Setting: MASQUERADE DREAMS, Crystal Room, Second Level Terrace
Stardate: 30151.2147

Mizore had remained idle, as time passed, slipping slowly, extending what was to her, a most sadistic night and the events it held. Still observing those on the second level around her, examining and studying each closely, everything from mannerism, to posture, to body language. There, behind hazel eyes, was more to the mind of the CMO than she dared to visibly let on. Sure to notice even the smallest act, not even the most insubstantial detail had escaped her vigilant gaze.

The majority of her attention had settled on the Aenar attaché and an Orion female that piqued her interest, while staying passively focused on the conversation taking place between the two, only meters from her own location. Only when the sound of music started once more was the Bajoran's concentration interrupted, moved by the wistful etude, her attentions had shifted to the scene below.

It was only a short time, as her eyes skimmed the crowd, before she visually located Morningstar. A few paces away, Shar'El stepped lightly away from the captain, Mizore continued along the direction the path lead, finding Ya'Han and Paquette sitting relatively below her own position. Something had seemed to negatively impact or affect the Nylaan, judging by the slightly erratic, unsettled expression worn on the woman's demeanor, as Paquette acted, protective while offering some form of comfort to her.
=/\= Ya'Han here. Sorry for cutting in on your current discussions and activities, but, I believe that I owe you all an explanation. I always thought I needed to keep this secret to myself, to make it easier on those around me, but it is clear that this secret is only going to make things complicated. =/\= The black haired woman said before she paused for a moment.

Mizore, with an imminent sense of concern and haste tied to the escalating situation, rose to her feet. While she moved, gliding as graceful as she could manage or was able, slowly weaving her way through the mass as she descended to the lower floor, never letting her sight stray away from the Nylaan.

" You do not owe us, nor do you 'need' to explain anything to anyone, Ya'Han. We all have our own secrets. It is up to each one of us whether we keep those secrets to ourselves, or choose to share them with someone, or with others. "

=/\= I am Ya'Han, the thirteenth daughter of the High Sovereign of NYLA IV. =/\= The black haired woman admitted as she focused on keeping her hair the color it had been. =/\= At the age of fourteen, I was betrothed to help solidify my world's economical ties, but, being unable to abide by my father's wishes, I ran away, leaving everything that I knew behind. =/\=
Setting: MASQUERADE DREAMS, Deck Eleven, Crystal Room
Stardate: 3O151.2158

" I think we have all run from one thing or another in our lives, Ensign. " The CMO delayed a moment as she stopped speaking, looking at the Nylaan. " I am not the optimist sort or type, so I may be grasping or reaching here. Perhaps, if I may be forward with you. It might not be that you were running away from something, from a life controlled by your father, the High Sovereign. So much as running toward something, the freedom of a life of your own that you can be proud of? "

Making her advance, as the Bajoran approached her intended destination, ceasing only when she came to stand before the two women. With a pause, she dropped to offer obeisance to Paquette and Ya'Han. As she curtsied, Shar'El had stepped forward, out of the guests on main floor, and joined the rather small gathering that was starting to form around the Nylaan.

" Evening ladies. Salutations. " She pressed her lips in to a sweet smile, attempting to play the part. " I am Heron Simza, or simply Simza, a Ranjen acolyte. I am most honored and pleased to meet you. " Her eyes of hazel moving from the red headed engineer, to the pale skinned first officer, before locking a stare with the dark haired Chief of Security who seemed troubled by the look of her expression.

Paquette, watching Mizore with an arced brow, wasn't sure whether to play along or drop to the floor laughing at the CMO's 'acting', even the Ullian was at a loss, curious and wondering about the Bajoran's strange behavior.

" I thought to mention, in hopes that one of you might join or accompany me for a little walk and maybe a little conversation in the courtyard gardens. " Gradually extending a left hand palm up toward Ya'Han at a leisurely speed, never breaking the smile on her lips as she gave a quick wink before her hazel eyes motioned rather insistently to come or follow.

Reluctant and cautious, Ya'Han lowered a hand as it dropped in to Mizore's, the Bajoran lightly gripped the Nylaan's fingers supportively assisting her as she rose to stand on her feet. When the two women had come to stand side by side, the CMO casually slipped a hand inside the curve of the Security Officer's elbow as the two slid over the floor, and crossed the room.
Setting: MASQUERADE DREAMS, Deck Eleven, Courtyard Gardens
Stardate: 30151.2209

"I hope you will not mind me asking, though, would you tell me what happened?" Mizore asked, her head tilted to one side ever so slightly, listening, as the two of them walked.

"What happened to make me run from my home and family, or what caused me to almost lose it in the room?" The black haired woman asked in return, still a little shaken, as her words were slightly choked.

"Both, actually," the Chief Medical Officer whispered in reply with an almost Vulcan tone, leading, as she escorted the Security Officer to a more secluded location in the northwest corner of the courtyard garden.

"My father betrothed me to a Ferengi troll, claiming that it would help our world's economy.  I knew that it would not help, as much as secure his own position as High Sovereign.  I could not refuse, and I knew that if I did anything to try and sabotage his plans, I would be severely punished.  Being the daughter of the High Sovereign might have granted me many privileges, but being the thirteenth child meant that my ability to influence him was limited at best."  Ya'Han paused for a moment as she did her best to control her emotions.  "I was fourteen, young, and idealistic..."

"So you decided to run away," Mizore said with a nod of her head, almost as if this had been the perfectly logical course of action, at least for a fourteen year old daughter of a planetary ruler. The CMO stepped aside, moving as she motioned to Ya'Han, allowing the Nylaan to become comfortably situated, the raven haired woman lowering to sit on the edge of a high rise like a stool.

"Yes," Ya'Han said in shame.  "I traded  my skills as a performer to earn passage on whatever freighter I could find." The now verdant haired woman said letting the Bajoran understand a little more as to why the Chief of Security had reacted as she had when approached by a woman with similarly colored hair.

"I could only imagine as to how difficult that was or must have been for you." Noticing the scars of a deep pain reflecting in Ya'Han's eyes, at having left everything and everyone she had ever known behind.

"I quickly learned to take care of myself," the daughter of the High Sovereign said as her hair turned shades of white as clouds, hinting as to the nightmares that she endured and had been forced to deal with on her own.  "Whatever medical skills and knowledge I had been taught, were put to good use over the next two years, until I finally escaped, making it into Federation controlled space."

"Well, princess. . ." Her lips curled in to a pleasant smile as she tried to lighten the mood from the grim and somber memory. Taking the woman by the hand, placing it in her own, her long fingers folding around Ya'Han's, applying the soft pressure when she held the woman's hand in her gentle grip. "You are not alone, not anymore. You are a member of Starfleet, and the Federation. You are one of us, and we take care of our own." Mizore closed the gap, her hazel eyes met those of Ya'Han, pulling the Ensign's awareness from the vacant, distant stare.
The Chief of Security found it hard not to give a smile in return, even if it was an uneasy one. Mizore released the Nylaan's hand, stepping back a pace or two so that she could stand on her own. Curiously, Ya'Han turned her hand over, in her palm, was a small hypospray. "Why did you give me this?" A strange, confused expression fell over the black haired woman's face.

"That is all I can offer or do to help you. It should assist in maintaining a single hair color, in case you find yourself in an unfortunate or undesirable situation. I should warn you though, it will only last for one half hour, do not take it in excess of one dose every six hours, and the faster your heart rate, the less it will linger in your system, affect you, or temporarily alter your specific genetic body chemistry."

Ya'Han tipped her head as she nodded slightly before the CMO turned away to look at the stars that glittered in the infinite void of space.

"Mizore to Counselor Dalziel." The CMO hushed in quiet words, leaning her back to the wall behind her, occasionally glancing toward the Security Officer. "Would you please join both Ya'Han and I at our present location. Thank you."

Gwen Spellblade

Ensign Mizore Seska
Chief Medical Officer