Coffee Is A Godsend.

The real MVP here, carrying me through another major life event. 15 years with this dude and I'm so grateful for every moment he's here.

My father's Honor Walk was held yesterday, and we are able to move forward now. I try to take comfort in the knowledge that he may save at least three lives, but the experience and attention that comes with being the family of a donor has been quite overwhelming for someone who is an introvert and a recluse on a good day.

I've gotten a bit of headspace to finish up the next chapter of Subversion Theory as I try to have some moments to take my mind off everything. It's been difficult not to have this outlet, and I suppose that's why I'm writing this here. My father was more well-known and more well-liked than I ever knew, and fielding calls and messages between the three of us has been exhausting. I am grateful to have a night of quiet in my home with my pets and some space to breathe and process on my own before the actual service this weekend.

Still, my mind is on something else as well.

My father was an engineer--someone who enjoyed solving problems as much as creating problems to solve--and in classic fashion, upon searching for his credentials to access his computer, etc., my brother and I found what appears to be a 100+ page long cypher.

I'm uncertain which is more likely: he left it for us to solve because it's important, or he left it for us to think we needed to solve it but it's actually nothing important at all.

In either case--that's my dad ❤️

My Monday musings: I'm kind of surprised this isn't a bigger ship.

Michael and Nhan make a lot of sense to me. They went through the wringer together, they went to the future together, and Nhan was called in later to keep Michael in line because she knew her and how she would operate. Michael knew she would make the tough calls if she couldn't because that's what she'd done, and Michael accepted it and trusted her anyway. When push did come to shove, Nhan was convinced to forego her "duty above all" mindset and both of them grew from that experience.

It seems like Michael and Nhan had a way stronger foundation than Michael and Book, whose foundation the show skipped almost entirely and built through exposition once Michael and Discovery were finally reunited.

Another Snippet from The Ithaca Mandate

Why did you do this to her? Judith begged of the ship. Why now, after everything she’s done for us? Ithaca remained still, more silent than she’d ever been. The Commander's gaze met hers through the window, and Judith’s heart fractured. The possibility of Lyris’ end, the idea that she might actually be mortal, was simply too devastating to comprehend. If even she could fall, what hope was there for the rest of them? “I’ll come back for you,” Judith choked out, her voice barely a whisper. But even as she made her promise, even as she righted herself and took off for the nearest transporter, Judith wondered if there would even be anything left of the Commander, of the life that had always so fiercely refused to be extinguished, to come back to.

Snippet from The Ithaca Mandate

The shuttle door opened, and Judith’s breath shuddered out of her lungs. She expected officers, maybe commanders and ensigns. But the first officer she spotted was the last one she expected to see.

The uniform was familiar.

Command red.

Grey eyes darted around the chamber, mouth gaping a bit in some kind of startled awe. Then they landed on Judith and Lyris, and the face morphed into a scowl.

“Of course.”

Captain Elara Becketts strode forward, combat boots thunking on the debris coating the floor. She came to a stop before them, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You two are like goddamned roaches."

Descriptionary

Descriptionary

Helping Writers Find The Words

I stumbled across this site a few weeks ago--lots of useful info for if and when you feel like your descriptions are getting repetitive!

Things they don't prepare you for as an adult: "Your father left some potatoes in the basement and I kept asking him to get rid of them but he didn't--can you move them while you're here?"

Mother, those are not potatoes. Those are alien lifeforms and I'm pretty sure this is how the zombie apocalypse starts.

Nevertheless--they are no longer in the basement.

Makes for good writing material though...

The boss is checking in on how my chapters are coming.

Toby is a little weird and creepy, but I love him anyway 🥲

"I’m not supposed to be here."

Breathe, Judith commanded herself. In and out. It’s just a ship. Just another goddamn ship. But it wasn’t. She wasn’t sure how she knew. Ithaca was beautiful, the flawless, blinding white of her walls an homage to the glory of Gestalt’s ambition. The pride of her builders shown in every bolt and every weld, but every inch of her demanded deference from the ones whose lives she’d carry into the abyss. Nearly a thousand souls aboard and yet Ithaca had none, her hull an empty carapace against the vastness of the void, and so, she required theirs. The vessel rumbled beneath Judith’s feet, but it wasn’t pleasant like Ardent. It was a warning to her, like Ithaca knew Judith wasn’t like the rest–like she knew Judith didn’t really belong there at all. Judith was an intrusion, an unexpected variable this entity hadn’t foreseen–one she didn’t quite understand how to bend. She doesn't want me here.

Star Trek: Voyager, J/7: The Measure of Logic

Sneak peek of one of my favorite sections from later in this fic.

A hardness overcame Seven then, the alloys in her spine chaining her fractured emotions back together in some grotesque distortion of what Janeway had always insisted they could be. Was this what it meant to be human? This labyrinth of consternation and insecurity and doubt? To feel, from one moment to the next, while drowning under the gravity of her inability to draw any meaningful connections between them? What was the purpose? Janeway found her then, and Seven realized she had dropped into a crouch closer to the habitat floor. The tentative ghost of a palm encapsulated her knee as the Captain crouched before her and Seven carefully deflected its benevolence by righting herself. She feared the touch would melt the metal of the implant concealed beneath the biosuit and burn them both. “Must...you always…touch me?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62063797/chapters/158729248