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  1. 3 points
    "Cadet Corliss, reporting for duty!" The Betazoid with bubblegum pink hair saluted...to no one. She sat a table in a busy sector of the terminal, sipping an ice cold milkshake topped with chocolate shavings and caramel. She had on a regular cadet uniform with tall boots, her hair up in a ponytail, her voice chipper and light, her dark black eyes crinkled in delight...before she deflated. "No no...that's too exciteful?" She mumbled, playing with the straw to her treat, tapping at a PADD with her other hand, a note to her parents that she had made it on time and without any issues. She swung her legs, sipping a bit before groaning, scrubbing her hands through her hair. "This is so nerve-wracking! Come on orders, come on in!" She stared at her PADD. The PADD was not swayed. She sighed, twirling a string of hair around one finger. "Ah, I guess between I and time, only time will win in this battle of wills, neh?" She smiled, pursing her lips a bit, smearing the light lipgloss before popping them. "Mmm, cherry~! Ah, perhaps I should stock up on sweet things before going on board?" Would she have time? If it came in soon, she wouldn't. She hummed. "They'll have sweet things on board, I'm sure! But what to do until then..." She pulled up a small simulation to play around with, grinning and taking a sip here and there.
  2. 3 points
    <Starbase 118> Oz had finally made it to Starbase 118 and had been shown to guest quarters. As he went to enter his temporary quarters a fleet officer walked up to him. "Doctor Olen Daniels", asked the officer. Oz turned to look at the man. He was holding a pad in one hand. "Yeah, I'm Doctor Olen Daniels", Oz replied The officer handed the pad to Oz. He accepted it looking both curious and puzzled. "This is for you, an invitation, sir.", the officer stated before being on his way. An invitation to what? Oz thought to himself as he slid through the doors. He placed his luggage on the floor by the bed. He started examing the pad he had just received. : To Doctor Daniels, You've been invited to partake in a cadet training exercise on the holodeck. The location, as well as time, are listed below. : Looking at the provided information, then though Oz thought why not. Holodeck simulations could be fun. If it also helped the cadets with their training it was a win-win situation in his book. He took care of his luggage, and then cleaned up from his long trip. There was still spare time before the exercise was to begin. He decided the best way to spent it was to see more of the station. Character Summary Olen Zackan "OZ" Daniels, PhD Age: 500 Terran years Species: El-Aurian Eyes: Grey Hair: Brown Height: 6'6" Weight: 240 lbs Build: Athletic, Muscle Birthdate: 071895.04 (7/4/1895) Birthplace: San Francisco. California; Earth Orientation: Homosexual Parents: El-Aurian scientists studying Terrans Education: Over his 500 lifespan he has earned Ph.D.'s in Anthropology, Archaeology, Linguistics, and Psychology. True to his species he is a natural at diplomacy, as well as having an eidetic memory
  3. 3 points
    Think of all the xenopsychology papers you could write just from observing people in the commercial district, Lazarus thought as he looked across the vastness of Starbase 118. People of all kinds working, living, eating, and learning together. Tellarites eating plomeek soup. Klingons playing darts. There's even a sign promising a show from "the only Vulcan comedian" at 2100 hours tonight. Lazarus must have looked like a kid in a candy store - eyes darting around, agape at everything around him. "You never could stay focused, Davis," a gruff, but familiar and friendly voice from behind Davis startled him. "Professor W'Hetlan! I didn't know you were on Starbase 118. It's good to see you!" Davis extended his hand to the Professor. The professor hesitated a second, but then grasped Davis' hand and gave it a firm shake. "Yes, well... Field research. Or rather, I'm on my way to some - headed to the Gamma Quadrant. Should be interesting. I'll have two pairs of Binars with me as interpreters. We made first contact with a species that speaks in simple logical expressions, making the Binars well suited to understand it, but the meaning behind the expressions seems to be steeped in metaphor. Hopefully, together, we can figure their language out. Despite having a hard time talking, all of their overtures suggest they are a friendly and welcoming people." The professor's hesitance seemed to dissolve once the conversation was shifted more towards the work and less about interacting with Davis. "Well, I look forward to reading the reports, Professor. Say, do you care to join me at the replimat? I'm still on Eastern Standard Time, so it's about lunch o'clock as far as my stomach is concerned." "Eh, sorry Davis. I need to find my quarters and rest before I depart. Maybe tomorrow?" W'Hetlan, again, seems palpably uncomfortable. Did I say something wrong? Lazarus wondered to himself. "I leave at 2000 hours tonight, I'm afraid. Well, good to see you Professor. Best of luck in the Gamma Quadrant." W'Hetlan nodded and turned to leave, but stopped and looked over his shoulder while pointing at a sign. "Vulcan comic? Now there's something you don't see every day." He then chuckled to himself and headed off, leaving Lazarus to his thoughts. Lazarus explored Starbase 118 for the 3 or so hours he had before it was time to board the ship. It was wonderful, if not a little lonely among the crowds. He was looking forward to meeting his new crewmates. When the time came, he headed to the airlocks for boarding. Around them were a few viewports for family and friends to watch people embark or disembark. Children, partners, parents, and friends would wait and watch and wave, elated to see their loved ones off or to see them after being away for so long. Lazarus didn't have anyone on the station. That was OK, he had a proper going away party or two before he left Earth. Besides; he was looking forward, not back. But the sudden jubilation of a man seeing his husband for the first time in months caught Lazarus by surprise and he turned to look back down the gangway from the station to the ship. Standing at one of the viewports was Professor W'Hetlan. They made eye contact, and W'Hetlan smiled and nodded. For W'Hetlan, that was practically an emotional outburst. Lazarus smiled back and nodded before making his way to the ship, trying to casually wipe away a tear welling up in his eyes. It's not that he craved W'Hetlan's approval, it's just that Lazarus knew it was hard to come by, and that meant a lot. It was an unexpected cherry on top of an already tremendous day. This is the beginning of your great adventure, Lazarus.
  4. 3 points
    Hello everyone! I am Joe and I will be simming as Ari Tullus, a Trill. Ari knew from a young age that he wanted to be joined with Tullus and worked towards that end. When he was joined it was the greatest day of his life. Tullus has had 8 previous hosts and is nearing 500 years of life, which is old even by Trill standards. Ari was chosen as the final host of Tullus, a fact which weighs heavily on his mind. He takes this responsibility very seriously and strives to seek out new experiences so the final life of Tullus is as full and successful as possible. With the ability to access 500 years of memories and experience, Ari is considered a wise advisor and trusted friend. Because Ari has so many experiences he has been willing to accept any assignment Star Fleet feels he is most suited for, though he dreams of being a starship captain. The goal is to be the best, explore strange new worlds, and ensure Tullus shuffles off the mortal coil with no regrets.
  5. 2 points
    The turbolift spat Cadet Jona ch'Ranni out into the spacious corridor of the Starbase 118 Promenade. He stumbled as his boot caught the lip of the doorway and he fell to the gray carpeted deck in an undignified heap. A passing Trill offered a kind hand to help him to his feet. He thanked her and it took all of his self-control not to gawk at the variety of sights and sounds that assaulted his senses. Bustling was the word he would use to describe the place. Hundreds of individuals milled along the path which spread out in both directions as far as the cadet's keen eyesight could see. His antennae twitched and swiveled independently, trying to take in the bright colors and constant hum of sounds that permeated the area. Jona turned to the left and merged into the crowd of people that flowed like a river down the hallway. Jona's light blue skin beaded with sweat as he walked. The heat from the press of people around him warmed him more than was comfortable for an Andorian who was acclimated to the arctic temperature of his home world. The fresh cadet, all of 24 years old, exited the crowd and found solace in the slightly cooler pub that he entered. It was called Keal's Pub and sported a rustic decor that appealed to Jona. He took a seat on one of the wooden stools at the bar. He nodded to a fellow Andorian, a strikingly beautiful woman, across the room. She inclined her head back to him with a slight smile. Jona was lost in thought as he turned back to the bar and was startled by a man standing in front of him across the countertop. "You'll have a Samarian Sunset, I suppose?" said the middle-aged man with a smile. "Yes, that's my favorite drink," replied Jona. "How did you know?" "Betazoid," answered the man. "Makes my job pretty easy when I know what you want to order before you order it." He slipped the cadet a squat glass with a clear liquid inside. Jona tapped the glass and the drink swirled orange and gold. Just like he liked it. "Thanks. I appreciate it," said Jonah. "What can you tell me about this place?" "It's an amazing port," said the dark-eyed man. "There are wonders here that you have never imagined. Yet it's as familiar as home. You'll see. One thing that it's not is ... boring. Never boring." The man's description trailed off as he stared forward as if whole sections of his life were playing out before him. This man had seen some things - not all of them pleasant but not all bad either. He just had an air of someone who had lived life and survived to tell about it. It reminded Jona that he had not lived much life beyond his youth and the few short years he spent at the Academy. He had spent more time in simulators and sitting in classrooms than actually living life. He was eager to add to his list of experiences, though, and this Starbase was going to be the epicenter of it all. Jona tugged at the mustard yellow collar of his uniform. It was perfectly tailored to fit his slim body down to the micron but it wasn't a mistake in sizing that caused the nervous habit. His classmates loved to tease him about this - they called it the 'Jona Maneuver' much to his embarrassment. A chime from his PADD reminded him of his upcoming appointment. He was to report to the Holodeck for training at 0900 hours. Just ten minutes from now. Better to be early than late. He thanked the bartender and downed his drink, setting it down with a plink. The cadet stood and stretched his limbs, loosening his muscles. He pictured his narrow fingers flying across the helm console, banking the starship as disruptor fire zipped past the nose of the ship. "All hands, brace for evasive maneuvers," he whispered to himself. Yes, he was about to rack up some experience. He was ready for anything.
  6. 2 points
    ((Diplomatic Conference Room, USS Columbia)) ::If there was one thing they got right when they redesigned and upgraded the Columbia, it was the diplomatic conference room. Spanning a space large enough for a big meeting, or a small gathering, the room was lined with transparent aluminum windows that gave an unimpeded view of the outside. Meant to provide a sense of awe, and perhaps humility, unto those who would gaze beyond the thin barrier, the view quickly enraptured her.:: ::Silence permeated the very bulkheads in the large room in which she now stood, her boot steps long halted and their echoing footfalls long faded into the chasm of isolation she’d created within. A set of blue crystalline eyes gazed into the dark abyss of space, reaching, wanting…barely touching on the tiny motes of dust that were in actuality stars burning bright millions of miles away. Finding their target, an almost unsettling purplish haze, they settled.:: ::And then her mind wandered.:: ::So still she stood that the long wisps of hair no longer fluttered around her. Draping down her back, past her waist, the obsidian locks seemed almost unreal. Had anyone walked in at that moment, they might have thought themselves approaching a statue. Yet, even as her stillness became a very part of the room she stood in, her mind flew amongst the very stars she ignored.:: ::Much of her thoughts were empty, distant like the burning balls of flame that consumed themselves and eventually became the void that they had once illuminated. They were of her first memories, drifting in space, with everything new and unlearned. Each day had been filled with a kind of wonder, like a child discovering the universe for the first time. And yet, as the days wore on, it became painfully apparent that something was missing. That pain, a deep atramentous divide, never left. Day after day she carried it with her.:: ::Day after day, she suffered.:: ::Memories were, as she’d learned, often taken for granted. As Starfleet medical poked and prodded, she uncovered the true loss. Without friends, without connections, without anyone but herself, Kali had learned how to walk again. Physically she was whole. Physically she had no trouble standing on her own two feet. In her head, however, things were anything but normal.:: ::Now, as she stood on the precipice of the edge of the galaxy, she wondered. The dark beyond was yet unknown. The barrier held within it mystery, and perhaps, something that could help her. Would it work? Would it be worth it? And would their proximity be close enough to matter?:: ::Question after question rattled off as she finally, slowly, closed her eyes.:: ::And that was the first time the image of the blade coming at her appeared. Gasping for air and falling backwards into the nearby table, Kali desperately struggled to grasp what she had just seen…:: TBC Fleet Captain Kalianna Nicholotti Federation Ambassador at Large As simmed by: Lieutenant Commander Ash MacKenna Chief Science Officer USS Columbia R238605KN0
  7. 2 points
    Oh hey, is this where we talk about forgetting to write the tags?
  8. 2 points
    This was a lovely, rather moving post that I found compelling and absorbing! Well done to @Kali Nicholotti for such wonderful writing!
  9. 1 point
    Each month we interview a First Officer or Commanding Officer of the fleet as part of our “First Officer in Focus” and “Captain’s Corner” columns to get to know them better, and learn more about what their positions entail. This month, we’re interviewing the First Officer of the starship Columbia, Lieutenant Commander Jarred Thoran, a human male. He was last interviewed in December, 2017, as part of our “Lower Decks” column of interviews. SHAYNE: You’ve been a part of a few interviews, so avid readers of these close ups will be familiar with your basics. Nevertheless, for the benefit of those newer members of our community, could you tell us a little bit about where you hail from? THORAN: I’m Richard. Originally from the UK, but have spent the past and a bit years in Germany where i’m now training to be a police helicopter pilot. You’ve been here a little more than a year, and in that time you’ve become one of the strongest and most enthusiastic pillars of our community, using your many talents and unimpeachable commitment for the benefit of the fleet as a whole. Training team, staff member, graphics wizard, wiki gnome… what inspires you to take on so much responsibility? Blimey, you’re making me blush, and that is certainly an over exaggeration, i’m definitely not a wizard or a gnome. More like a goblin that sticks his head in everywhere. Anyway, to answer your question. When I first joined the fleet I had an abundance of free time, which I wanted to put to uses other than playing video games or doing DIY and housework. I browsed the task forces and found a few I liked the look of, teams that would enable me to use real life skills/experiences to help out. Since then, the community has given me a lot of good times, fun experiences and also helped through a few dark patches, so this is my way of giving back to a community that has given me so much, and I hope that i’m helping to add to that, and to create a good experience and fun times for others. You recently became the first officer of the newly launched USS Columbia – how does it feel to be Number One? As the writer it is good fun exploring Jarred’s feeling and thoughts to the changes and how he adjusts to his new responsibilities. In character he has only been first officer for a couple of (very hectic) weeks. The launch of the Columbia has seen us move to a new region – the Sagittarius Reach – and the first time Jarred was left in charge of the ship, they lost the Captain. So right now i’m having fun with how exploring how he is dealing with having suddenly been thrust into the chair and the responsibility it entails. As cliché as it may sound it is also an honour and a privilege to have been selected for the role. We’ve got a fine crew aboard the Columbia, with many talented and experienced writers amongst the ranks (I think it is something like 50 odd years combined experience). I’m also really looked forward to the future and leading the crew in our new adventures and opportunities in the Sagittarius Reach. Do you have a simming process, and if so, has your appointment as FO changed your procedure in any way? I primarily write my sims in Google Docs, from a “master copy”. I begin by pasting in everybody’s individual responses since my last sim, including what has happened since. I’ll then go through and colour code everything (dialogue is black, my descriptions/narrative is green, other people’s descriptions/thoughts/narrative are red and unanswered tags are purple) at the same time i’ll adjust the formatting. Next, the hard part, i’ll start writing, removing the red parts as I go along, and colour coding what I write. Then I take a short break, before coming back and proof reading what i’ve written. Once i’m happy with it, i’ll copy and paste into a new post on Google Groups, have a final read over and edit the formatting again (for some reason it ends up getting messed up) and finally I send it. Before I would usually read sims, and write on the same day. However, i’ve started to read sims one day, then write the next, skimming over the scenes i’m in again just so i’ve got everything clear in my mind. On my “reading day” I also start thinking about how to move the scene forwards, how would Jarred react etc. Looking forward, do you have ambitions for rising even further in the fleet? I’d be lying if I said it’s not something that is at the back of my mind, but for the moment I’m enjoying the view. Being a captain is a difficult job, not least the responsibility of managing an entire crew of people with different skills, experiences and personalities. For the moment I’m focusing on learning and growing as much as I can, and I’ve been fortunate to serve under some incredibly supportive captains, who’ve taught me a lot. I also still feel relatively new and want to continue supporting the fleet as much as I can, whilst I can. Is there a particular part of being an FO that you enjoy? A part you could do without? My favourite part has be interacting with the crew OOC. Before becoming first officer i’d served on the Columbia’s staff and acted as a mentor to a few players. But now I have the whole crew to interact with, and I love checking in with them all, hearing their ideas and aspirations, as well as helping them achieve their goals. Not only that, but I love the opportunity to push the spotlight onto others, to give them the opportunity to shine and show off their creativity. In essence you’re a facilitator for others and I really enjoy that. As for a part I could do without – honestly nothing. There are certainly some challenges that have come with the role, such as writing Jarred in a way that he is still relevant despite no longer being a “specialist”, and having to adjust my writing accordingly and allow other players to “do their thing”. Chances are we have a good many players in the fleet right now who would like to one day achieve their own first officer birth. What advice would you give to these aspiring folks? How long have you got? The first thing I would say – communication – if you are interested in command, no matter how junior or new you may be, let your captain know, without bugging them too much (seriously, you won’t be bothering or hassling them by asking, in fact they’ll likely be pleased to hear you want to develop). They, along with the ship’s staff will be the ones to guide you and give the tools to allow you to succeed. Secondly patience. Becoming a first officer is a big step, with quite a bit of added responsibility. Enjoy the journey. Look to those around you as an example to learn from, whether it be from their simming/writing, or just by talking to veteran simmers. If you have the potential, it will happen, but don’t try to force it, or nag about it. Also, don’t be disheartened if it doesn’t happen straight away, or for the first, second or even third time. Learn from those experiences and ask your captain/first officer/mentor what you can do to improve for the next time an opportunity arises. As a first officer you’re expected to be a leader, both IC and OOC, as well as a team player. So why not start showing off those skills? When simming, think about how you can provide opportunities for other players, for example, as a security officer you could enlist the aid of a engineering or science officer to help you out with a problem, or have your character suffer an injury (even a minor one) so the medical officer can practice their skills. Reach out to other players to see whether they’d be interested in writing a scene together, maybe your science officer is working on a project and needs help from a medical officer. These are the kinds of things that get noticed by the ship’s staff and will stand you in good stead for the future. I’d also highly recommend getting involved in OOC activities, whether that be on your ship, or one of the many task forces. You’ll make friends from across the fleet, potentially learn some new skills (maybe even develop a passion). Not only that, but by being an active member of our community, people will get to see your work who will think highly of you and you’ll begin to earn yourself a reputation. Thank you for your time, Lieutenant Commander Thoran! You can read more about Jarred Thoran on the SB118 Wiki, found here. The post First Officer in Focus: Lieutenant Commander Jarred Thoran, Columbia appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  10. 1 point
    Sorry I missed this – hopefully the question has been answered by now in the class For future reference of others: Generally the etiquette is to wait at least 24 hours before responding again, more depending on the flow of the story. Some ships sim faster than others, so you'll get guidance on this from your eventual Commanding Officer. Each time you write a post, it'll be a new part of the story. In some cases, there will be situations where a bunch of people are in the same room and you might need to sorta "rehash" the scene as people fill in tags, but most of the time that won't be necessary and you'll just be picking up where you last left off. So if someone's response to your tag requires more "discussion," you can repost the last few lines so that people don't have to go back and look at previous sims, but otherwise you want to have new content starting from that point. Hope that helps
  11. 1 point
    I would post your response to the sim.
  12. 1 point
    ((Corridors, The Skarbek)) ::The whole sickbay scene unravelled itself in chaos, Red herself making an entrance, followed by an entourage of The Kid, aka Groznin. Shortly after the commotion gathered steam, Papa Bear himself arrived on scene, delivering a stern order to for lack of better words, “Get some damn rest”. After criticising the current situation on board of course.:: ::The situation itself, was a shamble. After passing out for god knows how long, suddenly, there seemed to be an epidemic of sleepwalking, something that seemed to question the very boundaries of reality as the crew knew it. There was more than enough evidence to note that there was some other force pulling the strings here. The only trouble was… how could they possibly find out? How could a ship filled to the brim with skeptics possibly question the norms of their own reality, when they won’t even accept the facts layed out in front of them?:: ::Emilia was in no state to contemplate the matter of reality, of course, what she needed right now was “some damn rest” as the captain said it. Her boots tapped endlessly down the hallways, her body a sweaty mess and her hair… her hair was the subject of a definite talk with Sticks. Perhaps he required a lesson in hair care, lest he lose his scalp physically, rather than metaphorically.:: ::Emilia made a sharp left turn on her heel, once again travelling down the all too familiar, manky corridor that she called home. The main form of lighting once again flickering under the worn out wiring, highlighting the unfinished wall panels parallel to the scorch mark covered door. The ever prevalent scars left from the countless electrical fires, once again smiling at Emilia as she entered the cozily small room.:: ((Personal Quarters, The Skarbek)) ::Emilia took in a deep breath as an audible ‘whoosh’ signaled the closing of the doors. Promptly her eyes drifted over to the vacant bed. The sheets fitted to perfection and the blankets left as if nobody had slept there for months, just as mother taught her. A single book sat in the centre of the bed, it’s glossy cover highlighting under the pale light, a small piece of velvet lining stuck out of the pages, marking a spot for continuation.:: ::With a small smile, Emilia slipped her boots off with a swift unzipping motion freeing both legs from that cage of worn leather and sweat. Emilia’s feet energetically pounced her body forward, the soft springs of her bed (arguably the most comfortable spot on the ship) cushioning her fall.:: ::In an instant, her hungry eyes seized the book’s form, Emilia’s nails jamming in between the marked crevices of the novel. Dramatically and slowly, she freed the printed text from darkness that plagued the pages. The relief of escaping to a world of fantasy upon her once more, as she set her famished eyes on the bold, black letters that sunk deeply into the pages.:: ::It felt rather ironic really, suspecting one of dreaming, but once again indulging in the dreams of another man. Quite odd really? Perhaps it was… but the line between dreams and reality appeared to thicken once again as Emilia occupied her thoughts on the coarse pages. Though, she still couldn’t shake the feelings she had earlier. Each image within her mind, sticking with her like glue. Each recollection, causing a strangely ghostly feeling to reach through the very centre of her chest.:: ::But what could it all mean?:: _______________________ Emilia “Princess” Krugol -- Maquis Escort -- Skarbek ________________________ Simmed by ________________________ Ensign Emilia Krugol -- Security/Tactical Officer -- USS Gorkon -- G239409EK0 ________________________
  13. 1 point
    ((OOC: This contains reference to Tatash's damaged psyche, if that is a sensitive subject please beware)) ((Laurel Clark - Atmosphere of the moon)) Duyzer: Either I had inaccurate results on the Columbia, or this magnetic interference has grown. We may be dealing with a magnitude even those pattern enhancers cannot supersede. G’Renn: Let’s hope that they do remain in working order. Tatash: Not to mention the rest of the shuttle, that's one hell of a storm. ::The looming atmosphere in front of him was certainly looking unpleasant. There was flashes of greenery under it, flashes of water, but above it all was the steady churn of a terrible looking storm syste:: Jolara: ? ::To Tatash's surprise, the storm was more bark then it was bite. The swirling masses of grey cloud caused little problems for the agile little vehicle pushing between them. He was no engineer, but there was no whine of struggle, only the sound of rain hitting the side of the Lauren Clark with a dull rumble:: G’Renn: When we arrive I want everyone to stay vigilant and keep an eye on the surroundings. Unfortunately we don’t know anything about what we’re flying into. ::Tatash nodded in response and glanced around everyone's belt, before pointing towards one of the small thumb-locked lockers underneath the couch opposite him:: Tatash: Make sure you're all armed. Something about this just doesn't sit right in my gut. ::He'd learned from early in his career, before his Starfleet one, that when something didn't feel right in that multi chambered meat-processor of his... it was usually for a good reason:: Jolara: ? Duyzer: Will do. G’Renn: Good, if we- ::A flashing light on the co-pilot’s console caught her attention:: The comms just went out. As soon as we land I want to set up the signal beacon. After we have re-established contact we can begin our search. Tatash: I'll keep you covered. ::He nodded towards the beacon. He didn't want to risk breaking what looked like quite a delicate (not to mention amazingly important) piece of equipment:: Jolara: ? ::For a second things were going smoothly, the small group performing as a cohesive unit until the almost predictable fate of a well planned team came to bear. There was a bang. A horrible sounding crash that felt like a giant hand had rapped a knuckle against the side of the craft, almost as if checking if anyone came to the door to answer it. The jolt, the suddenness of it caused his heart to almost explode out of his chest. It felt familiar, like a sickening impact he'd already felt once before. He shouldn't have suggested a shuttle, this was a damned foolish idea.:: Jolara: ? G'Renn: Report! Duyzer: It's because of the magnetic interference, we can't handle the difference in magneticity between the ship and the atmosphere. G'Renn: Does anyone have any suggestions? Duyzer: Uhm... ::he struggled to come up with a quick fix, he would rather pause time and think about this for several hours:: Now would be the time to test my mentor's theory... ::Another thud slapped against them, this time causing the Security chief to whack the back of his head against the bulkhead. His breathing was increasing rapidly, his knuckles clenching almost painfully on the straps holding him in, almost cutting the deliberately tough fabric into his palms:: Jolara: ? G'Renn: What about the warp coils in the nacelles? Couldn’t we pass a current through them like an electromagnet? Duyzer: Yes! ::shouting like it was a eureka-moment:: I'll, uhm... G’Renn: Then let’s hurry, ensign! ::She motioned to the panel next to Ensign Duyzer’s station:: The engineering access panel is right there. ::Tatash watched the Ensign moving at speed towards an access panel with widened eyes. Were they going down? Was the shuttle about to fall like a stone, even it's strong hull would never survive such an impact.Something inside him twisted, something hellish bringing a memory to the forefront. His eyes fixed ahead of him int error, unable to stop himself from bearing witness to a catastrophe:: ((Flashback - The Battle of the USS Avalon)) ::Green lances continued to spear out towards the group of fighters as they dragged them away from the Aramis's nesting place, but too many. They were drones, no question about that, their computer minds pulling maneuvers that would be considered far too risky for anything flesh and bone to be sitting in the pilots seats. Twisting and turning they dodged fire like ballet dancers avoiding the torrents of hellfire being thrown at them:: Tatash: We have to lure them towards the Albion! She can give us fire support. ::A few responses came back, garbled, no doubt those little terrors putting out some sort of ECM systems to jam communications but his intent got through, the battered fighter wing closing up and speeding towards the Albion with their pursuers in tow. Another friendly was tore up, the Peregrine tumbling over and splitting apart in a hail of Romulan energy:: Tatash: oO Come on... get the message... Oo ::Diago was thankfully quick on his trigger, the Albion letting out orange bursts of energy towards the attacking ships that did their best to adapt to the sudden new parameter being thrown at them, several exploding into blossoms of yellow before subduing into frozen shards of gas and metal. One by one their number went down, a few elated cheers coming over the comms as the electronic smokescreen surrounding the fighters started to dissipate along with their numbers. Even Tatash couldn't help but feel himself slightly relax, until that split second of relief bore a heavy price. His Valkyrie spun violently as something tore hard against the port side, what had once been a pristine wing now a twisted piece of metal. He'd been rammed, the drones apparently programmed to take every last risk when it came to ensuring victory against their designated enemy:: Computer: Warning, Port engines destroyed. Compensating. ::Slowly the ship came about, steading herself out as she limped towards the Albions perimeter, but the moment had been enough for one of the drones to deliver a firm volley against her damaged hull. Tatash flailed in his seat, thrown against the side of his [...]pit as alarms wailed on each console:: Computer: Catastrophic damage. Eject. Eject. ::His training took over, clawed hands grasping for the lever under his seat that would throw the entire [...]pit out as a makeshift lifeboat, one tug. Nothing, two tugs. Still nothing:: Computer: Ejection failure. ::His heart was pounding, the blue glow of the Albions shuttlebay painfully close as he fired up the emergency thruster, throwing him forwards towards it as he tapped on the comms system hoping to the pale goddess it still worked:: Tatash: =/\= Tatash to Albion. Mayday, Mayday. ::Nothing, whatever response had come through was distorted static blasting through his ear piece. His [...]pit was cracking, a thin spiderweb slowly erupting over what was once an impossibly strong material:: Tatash: =/\= Mayday... Computer: Warning, landing gear failure. All systems failing. ::All he could do now was hope as he continued to push towards the docking bay at speed, his scaled knuckles almost white as he did his best to assert what limited control he had on the ruined vehicle. The Albions damaged hull rushed past him as he saw the massive catching net erupting from the shuttlebay floor, he could even make out technicians running for cover as time seemed to slow down as the adrenaline pushing through him hit his peak. The nose hit the net with tremendous force, the entire fuselage crumpling down as he was thrown forward, what was a moment of reality pushed into a murky darkness:: ((End Flashback)) ::The voices around him had faded into a dull murmur, his body shook without him occupying it as the Shuttle landed itself on the ground with only a slight amount of discomfort to just about everyone else but him, too busy trapped in his own personal prison. He felt his biological fingers grasping, the fabric between them, his thumbs running over them experimenting and feeling their texture in reality. His metal ones on the other arm were alien to him, once more, but they were real. As he had been told, they were a fragment of that memory that will always remain to remind him it was in the past. Not now, although it felt like now. The bulkhead ahead of him was solid and cold. The chair under him was sturdy. It was soft, supportive, attached. Straps. The straps were tight on him. He flexed his toes, boots. Boots around his feet, grounding him. He was here, on the ground, safe. He took a brief moment to pause, almost mentally rebooting himself:: G’Renn: Is anyone seriously injured? Duyzer: Not me. Jolara: ? ::Tatash counted, slowly up to five. Each time regulating his breathing, every coping mechanism that had been pushed into him almost as a muscle memory by the almost endless counselling sessions triggering automatically as he let out the deepest exhale of all:: Tatash: I'm alright. ::he managed to stutter out, his focus shifting intently to his rifle. His weapon gave him control, it gave him power. Control was good, control was needed. With a well drilled motion he cycled the power, checked the energy cell status despite doing it several times before they had even taken off:: G’Renn: Come on, let’s get this signal beacon working. ::The door opened, and air blasted into the cramped interior almost like it was blowing away the last traces of that almost nightmare memory from his mind. He was focused, ready again. Just a shame that cold air hung heavy with natural fragrances, pleasant ones at that even despite the storm raging overhead. He swept his rifle over the ground ahead of them as the beacon was deployed, the focus down his sights keeping him locked back in the present.:: G’Renn: =/\= Doctor G’Renn to the Columbia, do you read? =/\= Thoran: =/\= Doctor, good to hear your voice. We believe we have detected some kind of artificial field, not too far from your original destination. I’d like you to investigate the area around the coordinates two-two-nine mark five. Please confirm. =/\= ::Tatash took a few steps down the loading ramp, his eyes scanning the horizon. There was nothing, no welcoming committee to meet them. Either there was no one interested in them, or they had landed undetected. Or, more ominously, they were being studied remotely:: G’Renn: =/\= Understood. We almost crashed due to a power loss on the way down, so it’s probably safer to walk if it’s close. We’ll keep you informed. =/\= Thoran: =/\= Stay safe Doctor. Columbia out. =/\= G’Renn: Everybody grab your equipment and get ready for a short hike. Those coordinates would be ::She consulted her tricorder, which could at least display a basic idea of their position. Beyond that it was almost useless.:: that way! Duyzer: Yes, it shouldn't be more than a fifteen minute hike. Tatash: Understood. I'll take point. Jolara: ? Duyzer: This planet is beautiful. ::putting up his Denobulan smile:: ::Tatash grunted at that comment as he walked slowly forward, his steps deliberate as he did his best to focus on every slight hint of motion. Even with his excellent eyesight, it would be far too easy for someone to hide virtually undetected within the foilage. But, he couldn't let the paranoia set in from his earlier incident, he had to remain focused on reality now not past.:: G'Renn/Jolara: ? Duyzer: Yes, of course! ::he quickly glanced down:: Not on sensors yet. I am wondering, a man-made field on a planet ::he pointed to all the nature around them:: this untouched? Tatash: Perfect place to hide, Ensign. Breathable air, self sustainable farming ::he nodded towards the rich ground:: and unexplored by anyone. Who would ever bother you out here? G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? ::A few more steps forward, before something caught Tatash's eye causing him to throw a hand up motioning to stop. Tricorders were one thing, but sometimes the old methods were the best. Crouching down he ran his fingers over a uniform pattern in the surface of the dirt. Grass was crushed, and again in a patterned line roughly three foot parallel:: Tatash: Tracks. Literally tracks. G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? Tatash: Whatever it was, it was fairly light. Some sort of tracked vehicle, probably lightly armored, civilian. Judging by the way the grass has been pressed, it's heading towards... whatever we are. G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? Tatash: Fresh, couple of hours maybe. ::He added, gently testing the spongyness of the grass underfoot:: G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? --- Lt. Commander Tatash Chief of Security USS Columbia C239108T10
  14. 1 point
    ((Deck 8, Club Olympus, USS Apollo)) :: Ruq’orb entered the club this was the first time he’d been in when the club was open. It looked completely different from the reduced lighting and the flashing disco lights. The fast-paced music that was playing was really catchy, he nodded his head along with the beat and with a bit of sway as he approached the bar. :: :: As he ordered a glass of water, he noted the voice and lack of anything emotional from the bar staff. :: Ruq’orb: oO Hologram? Oo :: He was still learning about how his senses worked but he’d always been able to sense peoples emotions and when things seemed out of place or even people. Ruq’orb knew the room was fully fitted with the latest holo software and tech. :: Ruq’orb: You been busy? Bar Staff: Yes, We have with all the new crew. Are you new? :: He smiled at the question, the computer seemed to have a small talk subroutine. :: Ruq’orb: No I been here for the last two and a half years since the refit started. Thanks for the drink. :: He didn’t fancy spending all his night chatting to holograms, he bobbed and weaved his way across the dance floor to a slightly raised seating area at the back. He noted a few crewmembers from his team and lots of new ones. :: Ruq’orb: oO This place might need extra security patrols. Oo :: He made a mental note for later, not that he expected trouble but with a full ship of civilians to cadets to the new officers to high ranking ones you just never know. As he sat, he started his second favourite thing watching people and practising his mental ability to try to feel their emotions. He had empathic abilities but no telepathic. In his past, he’d used his ability to gather information this had lead to him spending time in jail. It had also made him learn several things about him and computer skills. :: :: He smiled at the feelings he was getting the room was full of love, fun and enjoyment. Some from the dancing, music but some from the new mission and the adventure ahead of them. He looked forward to the experience of the exploration, also to meet new people. He enjoyed company at two hundred and sixty-four years old he was still young for his species almost a young adult. As he listened to the music, it started to bring back a memory from his past at the same time he began to feel his head pound only for a moment, but at that moment, he’d remembered hours of the memory. :: :: He checked the time on the table padd it was almost time to go see Conrad try to knock that arrogant Zackdorn of his peg or so he hoped. He still had a short time to watch, listen and feel this place. :: -TBC- Ensign Ruq'orb Chief of Security - USS Apollo-A USS Apollo-A Staff Member A238806K10
  15. 1 point
    Please welcome our newest Academy graduates to the UFOP: StarBase 118 fleet: Oz Daniels, Lazarus Davis, Charlie Knox, and Corliss! The post New Academy Graduates appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  16. 1 point
    ((Bridge, USS Apollo-A)) :: The Klingon was inspecting his new station. People walked all around him. A huge bridge also meant a very busy one. Meanwhile, he reflected on the Klingon language and on how it affected cultural differences. That's why, when he noticed an officer was next to him, apparently awaiting for something, his Klingon upbringing took over. :: E'riQ: nuqneH? :: Pause. :: Oh, sorry. I meant, hello. I'm E'riQ. :: Only then did E'riQ realize the human was standing at attention. He realized he was the HCO officer he had been waiting to meet. And the man visibly relaxed seeing how E'riQ was not saluting with any formality. Klingon ships were less prone to etiquette. Klingon civilian ships, where he had spent most of his life, much less so. For him, ran was useful to know who gave the orders, but not to replace names. :: Termine: uhh… Hello sir! Lieutenant Junior Grade Dante Termine reporting for duty. E'riQ: A pleasure to meet you. I think we will be sharing these two seats quite often, so I was looking forward to this encounter. :: He said that with his more polite smile. Which required some effort. He had tried his more sincere smile in the past, and he had learned that it made most federation citizens a bit uneasy, with his marked fangs and all. So he smiled with his lips closed this time. Usually, once he got to know people and they shared his contagious loud laugh, they were more eager to see him smile openly. :: :: The human responded with a similar smile, and a slap in the arm, which surprised E'riQ in a good way. Had him been around Klingons? Or was he naturally Klingon-y in his reactions? In any case, good signs! :: Termine: Buy’ ngop! <<literally: the plates are full!>> I am honoured to server under you Lieutenant! I’m sure they will sing songs about out adventures! E'riQ: oO He even speaks Klingon? How many people aboard do? Oo :: He was pleasantly surprised, but also intrigued. It's not as if his people had become trendy, was it? They were allies, but the relations were not as close as they had been. :: E'riQ: Do you speak Klingon? Termine: Uh, yes sir, a little. :: E'riQ wondered how that came to be, athough he knew Starfleet Academy offered several courses for those interested in his culture. :: E'riQ: Great! Where were you before the Apollo? Termine: I was the alpha-shift OPS officer on the Atlantis until about four hours ago. Before that the academy. E'riQ: Oh, I see. Are you a pilot? :: E'riQ was. Or, more accurately, it's what he enjoyed most in his Starfleet role. Having his own civilian ship, he had been in basically any role, and in HCO he needed a lot of those skills. But now that there were people covering every role, the helm is what he enjoyed. :: Termine: To be honest sir I joined Starfleet to lead, and that’s where I’m going to work my way to. Until then I’m here to do my job and make you proud. If you need someone wined and dined, a com-channel cleared or a relay replaced I’m your guy. :: Termine seemed eager to serve. E'riQ wondered if he was really, or these were steps in his dream to lead. E'riQ was not in a hurry to the central chair. And Kahless said real leaders have leadership thrust upon them against their will. But he understood the ambition. :: E'riQ: Have you seen the size of this ship? We won't ever run out of things to do. :: An air of solemnity fell upon the room as the Stratigo entered. E'riQ motioned towards the station monitors and for his HCO mate to just listen. They observed the exchange of command. E'riQ got tense a few times. He knew the Zakdorn were famously seen as the most brilliant strategic minds in the quadrant. But, as most Klingon, he doubted a reputation that was not proved regularly. :: Renos: Thank you Stratigo Bokzadeshti, we are most grateful to you and all of Zakdorn for all your hard work and effort. We’ll put this marvellous ship to good use. Bokzadeshti: That remains to be seen. Permission to disembark, captain? :: E'riQ clenched his fist. He could not believe the KDC had at some point considered an alliance with Zakdorn (although the position of the planet had something to do with it). :: E'riQ: oO Klingon allied with them? Ha! If they are all that arrogant, the first Klingon captain they had to work with would stab them and test their famous defense system! Oo Renos: Permission granted. Please feel free to disembark at your leisure. With heavy shipping around Zakdorn at the moment, we’re not cleared for departure until 0700 tomorrow. :: What? With a heavy sigh, E'riQ looked at the human he'd be working with, his face showin both disappointment and surprise. He was eager to take this gorgeous whale out of dock. That would have to wait. :: :: Thinking on where to pass the time until next morning, other than dinner with the captain, he looked around the room, until his eyes locked on something special: a black collar. Due to his background and species, there were two kinds of people he always had rough starts with: counselors and Intel officers. This time in, he decided to work proactively to solve that. :: E'riQ: Excuse me. Could we have a word? McLaren: response E'riQ: Either an office or a drink. As official or unofficial as you want it to be. McLaren: response Lieutenant E'riQ, son of Lo'PeH Chief of HCO- USS Apollo-A D238701JV0
  17. 1 point
    My poor character is so excited she's literally vibrating while I, her faithful author, has just churned out the first post and wants to hideaway in case it's a horrible first post and a cliche seen from far away The first time's always the most frightening QwQ But that just means I live and learn, right? Right!
  18. 1 point
    Exciting news: We’re launching a ship this week to make room for an influx of new members! In addition to two returning members, we had 13 applications from a viral post on Reddit about our community. These folks had, as a group, some of the best written applications I’ve ever seen so I hope that you’ll find their writing just as enjoyable as I did! Huge props to our Academy Training officers who all showed up on deck when we put out an urgent call to help train all the new applicants. With 15 people in training we had three classes running at once – the most we’ve ever done. We expect about 10 people to enter the fleet this week as a result. (Some of the new applicants dropped out, others are retraining this coming week to get a little more practice.) We hope that you’ll welcome all these new players with open arms, especially since many of them have never before played with a Star Trek PBEM and will need to meet new friends who can help them get comfortable with our grame. Because of all these awesome new recruits, we’re launching a new ship under the command of Rear Admiral Renos, the USS Apollo-A. The Apollo is accepting 10 current members as transfers from across the fleet to make room on our established ships for new members. But there’s a little something special about the Apollo: We’re experimenting with this ship’s sim pacing, to see if it helps us retain more members. The Executive and Captains Councils have been discussing for a long time now how we can help maintain our fleet size, and even expand, in this environment where it’s getting harder and harder to grab the attention of Star Trek fans for a text-based sim. One of the things we’ve discussed at length is the fact that some of our best simmers have to take leaves of absence because they’re overwhelmed by the number of sims they need to read each week. And so the Apollo will be trying out a plan to keep the number of sims on the list as manageable as possible for everyone. Everyone will still be expected to sim the average of 12 times a month, or three times a week, just like on every other ship. But this ship’s staff is going to work on using smaller away teams, pushing crew members to post smaller (but well written!) sims, and use fewer tags on a daily basis to facilitate a plot progression that keeps the ship at a lower sim rate. We’ll be working with RAdml. Renos closely to see how this ship operates over the next six months and determine if it’s a format we want to push to more ships. And we’ll report back to the fleet in Spring of 2019 with more information about how the experiment is going. In the meantime, if you have any questions about what’s happening, please don’t hesitate to talk to your ship’s Commanding Officer, who has been deeply involved in helping us launch this new ship and is fully briefed on all the new players we have coming in. Click here to join me in sending the Apollo crew into the unknown with some funny gifs in their ship forum! The post We’re launching a ship: USS Apollo-A returns appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  19. 1 point
    Go us, we're doing awesome guys :3 We'll be the best, obviously
  20. 1 point
    Please welcome our newest Academy graduates to the UFOP: StarBase 118 fleet: Ari Tullus Baelor Dexter Wilding Geoffrey Teller Kalara Avran Kiliak Jo Richard Walters Thanks to Reddit for a huge week of referrals. We’re looking forward to having all these new players joining us! The post New Academy Graduates appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  21. 1 point
    The staff of UFOP: StarBase 118 would like to take a moment and recognize the following officers on their recent promotions! Please be sure to say congratulations if you see them around the forums! ATLANTIS Serala to Lieutenant Valin Dermont to Lieutenant Kurt Logan to Marine Captain David Knight to Lieutenant J.G. Dante Termine to Lieutenant J.G. GORKON Ferier Lanta to Lieutenant JG Genkos Sim to Lieutenant JG Groznin Smith to Lieutenant JG Jocelyn Marshall to Lieutenant Tasha MacFarlane to Lieutenant Yiggtissi to Lieutenant VERITAS Evan Delano to Commander The post Promotions for August appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  22. 1 point
    Hi there, Bajorans are my favorite a well. Hope to see you around soon!
  23. 1 point
    Hiya everyone, My name is Jori Nyseth, as per the title, and I'm happy to have been accepted into the Starfleet Academy. And it's so good to see so many fellow Bajorans here. I am hoping to be accepted as a Science Officer. I've always be a massive fan of Ensign Ro, she was one of the first Bajorans to join Starfleet and escape the prison which is Bajor. I believe her Pah was always clean, despite what the media at home have said. Is there any other Bajorans joining on September 18th? Anyone planning on seeing the sights of San Francisco afterwards and show these humans how to PARTY!!!!
  24. 1 point
    The “Lower Decks” interview series is meant to highlight the newer members of our community. Named after the infamous episode of The Next Generation, this segment helps the fleet learn more about the new blood we bring into our community. Today’s interview is with Ensign Emilia Krugol, a joint security/tactical officer aboard the starship Gorkon. SHAYNE: Thank you for sitting down with me today! Why don’t we start off with a little about the mind behind Krugol. Where in the world do you hail from? KRUGOL: Thank you so much for having me! I’m currently a student living in the suburban outskirts of Melbourne Australia. I’m studying in my eleventh year of schooling, and I’m about a year and a half away from graduating and going to university. Outside of schooling, I’m an on and off artist and an ameteur dressmaker, that specialises in costume making. Both security and tactical positions are highly sought after amongst new recruits especially, for a variety of different reasons. What drew you to the role? When I did my training, I was stuck between the sciences or security, since I’m quite a fan of both roles, it was quite a difficult decision to make. But eventually, I settled for security. I wanted explore how someone as a security officer dealt with being responsible for the welfare of an entire away team, or even an entire ship. I wanted to investigate how conflict and the fate of her fellow crewmates could affect a demure and gentle character like Krugol. I also just really love writing about elaborate fight scenes. Holding two officer positions at once is not uncommon in the fleet, but it does pose some interesting challenges and opportunities. How are you finding that? I’m finding it very interesting. Holding two positions allows me to expand Krugol beyond that of a classic “Red Shirt”. It gives me a bit more space as a writer to make tactical decisions in the heat of a battle, as well as have some competence with technology, allowing Krugol to be less of a liability in technological based challenges that the crew/away team may face. Although, sometimes i do run out of ideas during an intense moment. It seems that every writer has a process for creating sims and developing a character. How do you go about crafting your writing? As a theatre student, I use elements of method acting when it comes to writing. I tend to ‘get into character’ so to speak and channel those feelings into my writing. I feel that it makes my writing much more authentic and believable if I’m incorporating realistic feelings into a piece, and allows me to express myself a little better through writing. I also like to play music appropriate for the overall mood of a sim, which makes the experience a little more immersive for me as a writer. Do you personally have aspirations in the fleet? Are there any OOC activities you’re associated with, or any you’d like to join? I’m currently not associated with any OOC activities. But I would be interested in joining the Advanced Starship Design Bureau, the FNS or even the Writing Improvement Team. I’d love to get more involved in the community OOC. What’s your favorite part about simming? It would have to be how immersive the whole experience is. In a way, Simming is a lot like acting, which allows me to explore parts of myself I’ve never even had the chance to touch on irl, not to mention, most of the time I feel like I’m actually acting in a Star Trek episode. Simming also gives me an opportunity to talk, and socialize to those with similar interests. Which leads to some really fun, and or interesting conversations with the fleet. If you could tell an incoming ensign one thing, what would it be? I guess I’d have to say, have fun! Be yourself! It’s a good community we’ve got here, full of amazing people. Even if you don’t fit in right away, just give it a little bit of time and you’ll feel right at home in a snap. Thank you very much for your time, Ensign! You can learn more about Ens. Krugol on the wiki. The post Lower Decks Interview with Ensign Emilia Krugol appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  25. 1 point
    I found this stunningly powerful- beautiful writing, @Kali Nicholotti!

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