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Quarters At Last

Posted on Friday June 9th, 2017 @ 11:50am by Lieutenant Dylan Nighthorse

Mission: Intermission 1: New Home
Location: Deck 3 - Quarters of Dylan Nighthorse
Timeline: 24 February 2392 - Gamma Shift

USS Jerusalem
Deck 3 - Quarters of Dylan Nighthorse
24 February 2392 - Well Into Gamma Shift

Gamma Shift was already on duty when Dylan Nighthorse finally found her quarters. She dropped her carry-on just inside the door and did a quick walk through. As she went, she began what she had come to think of as the transformative process, Starfleet Engineer to the private girl that had grown up on tribal lands. It started with the hair. Always that. Her hair, which hung to just past mid-back, was the same glossy black as everyone else in her family; she unbraided her hair with deft, long practiced movements, and ran her fingers through with a sigh of satisfaction. The same hair that stubbornly refused to accept a curl or wave also resisted knotting. So, curse and blessing at the same time.

With that done, she stripped out of her uniform and padded back to her carry-on, dappled patterns of light displayed on her naturally tan skin, providing contrast, accenting her lean curves. She squatted beside the case, tendrils of hair falling forward, screening her face from view, as she searched among her uniforms. She found her toothbrush, a black camisole and matching shorts and headed at once for the bathroom.

[ 20 minutes later ]

Having showered, brushed her teeth, and gone to the bathroom, Dylan was humming to herself as she went about her new quarters, putting away uniforms, under garments, and socks, setting out her brush and hair tie, and draping a hand-made shawl over the back of the sofa. She stowed her bag in the closet, put her PADD on the bed, and knelt on the floor, knees pressed tightly together, feet tucked under her the rounded curve of her bottom. Sitting straight, she bowed her head and brought her palms together before her chest, fingertips touching.

An active mind, that worried over problems and found it nearly impossible to let things go, meant that Dylan often went without sleep. She had learned a Yoga routine that helped her release those tensions and prepare for sleep. A routine, practiced every night, conditioned her for sleep and when forgotten, meant that she would stay awake for insanely long periods.

She focused on her breathing, letting tension go with each expelled breath, her mind wandering as it willed. "I am grateful," she whispered, "to be here, to be given this chance to serve and to explore. Sweet Medicine teaches us forgiveness, that those who have done wrong should be rehabilitated and forgiven. That's hard when I must also be held accountable for my Father's actions. I am trying and I am grateful that the Captain and XO will not hold his nature against me. Its a start."

She came up onto her knees with her hands were flat on the floor, shoulder-width apart, and her back parallel to the floor. Cat position. She arched her back, feeling the movement travel upward from her spine, her breathing controlled and even, then relaxing so that her back was once more parallel to the floor. She went through these movements several times and then switched in a graceful, effortless flow to the child's pose.

Knees together, feet tucked beneath her bottom, she bowed, her head face down on the floor, nose brushing the carpet, arms straight along her body, fingertips pointing back, brushing against the outer edges of her feet. In, out. In, out. Expelling tension, letting peace flow through her body.

Shifting easily, she sat up with her the soles of her feet pressed together in the Yin variation of the Butterfly pose. Bending forward, she stretched out and rested her head against her feet, hands looped around the tips of her toes. She stayed that way for a minute for more, savoring the stretch and the moment. She sat up slowly, twisting from side to side and then shifted into her favorite part of the routine, Vipareet Karani.

Lying flat on her back, bottom against the wall, she extended her legs straight up the wall, arms straight out to the side and just stayed there. Lying there, her long hair pooled about her head, eyes half-closed, a delicious lassitude crept through her limbs. She stayed that way for some time, maybe ten minutes or so, until finally, reluctantly, she crept into her bed and lay in what was called the Corpse pose, flat on her back, arms and legs slightly apart.

She lay there, just breathing, as her eyelids grew heavier until finally she turned on her side, curled up beneath the blanket, and fell asleep.

Lt. Dylan Nighthorse
Chief of Engineering
USS Jerusalem


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