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  1. FltAdml. Wolf

    FltAdml. Wolf

    Community Founder


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  2. Roshanara Rahman

    Roshanara Rahman

    Executive Council member


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  3. Sal Taybrim

    Sal Taybrim

    Executive Council member


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  4. Jo Marshall

    Jo Marshall

    Captains Council observer


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      41

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Popular Content

Showing content with the highest reputation since 04/29/2020 in all areas

  1. 7 points
    Congrats to @Geoffrey Teller and @Pholin Duyzer – and AMAZING work to everyone who participated! Thank you so much for your enthusiasm and creativity!
  2. 7 points
    The title of this column is “Lower Decks,” hearkening back to the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode titled “Lower Decks,” in which junior officers aboard the Enterprise-D speculate on the reasons for recent unusual actions taken by the command crew near the Cardassian border. We’re here with another interview with a newer member of our community: the writer behind Ensign Alieth, who is playing a Vulcan female medical officer assigned to the USS Thor. SHAYNE: Tell us a little bit about the writer behind the character- where in the world do you hail from? ALIETH: Hi, Shayne! I greet you from a small town in the Spanish mountains! My name is Andrea and I’m a little more expressive than my character (laughs). In real life I’m a freelancer and I work mostly in design and illustration. You play a medical officer- a role I’ve always found a bit tricky! What drew you to that profession? In fact, when I applied to join the 118, I tried to assume the role of science officer. However, there was another colleague at the Academy who was applying for the same position, so I was re-assigned as a doctor. Actually, I had a lot of fun with that, since the combination of Vulcan stoicism and a doctor’s concern for her patients is such a wonderful balance to portray. So, once I graduated from the Academy, I was encouraged to adopt the medical career and I was happy to accept it. I must also admit that I’ve always loved medical shows and that the EMH and McCoy are two of my favourite characters on Star Trek, so it’s certainly a position I’ve embraced with enthusiasm. Who doesn’t want the chance to say “I’m a doctor, not a…” from time to time? What would you say are the most challenging and rewarding parts of playing a medical officer? In my personal case, writing a Doctor and a Vulcan at the same time, the challenges are double. On the one hand, maintaining convenient bedside manners with the blunt Vulcan honesty is a real challenge. Vulcans are tough characters to interact with, as they can easily be read as unfriendly and not very cooperative. Couple that with someone who really WANTS to help (as a doctor) and you have an interesting but tricky mix. However, I’ve always liked challenges, so that’s something that makes the character and the narrative more appealing for me. On the other hand, as I said, I am not a doctor, and although I have relatives that are doctors and an interest in fiction on the subject, many times I find myself researching things I have little idea about, such as internal anatomy, chemistry, surgical techniques, etc. This increases the time it usually takes me to write a SIM. Couple that with the fact that I write in a language that is different from my native one, and the increase in time per SIM can be exponential! However, this also allows me to learn many different subjects which gives an added value to the whole experience. Many of our members have certain goals in the group; some even aim for the captaincy some day! Do you have any goals you’re looking to achieve? Who doesn’t ever dream of being the captain of their own ship? (laughs) However, it is something I still see quite far away and my main goal consists in telling stories with my fellow writers and helping others to tell theirs in this utopian future we all share. If that leads me to the captaincy… it will be quite welcomed! Nevertheless, I haven’t set any real goals for the moment, just have fun. On the other hand, Starbase 118 offers me the opportunity to be creative on a visual level in different ways than I am in my job, which is always a plus for me. I would like to continue exploring this facet with all the colleagues of the Image Collective Is this your first collaborative writing experience? Not at all! I have been in several collaborative writing environments, mainly in Spanish and closer to role-playing. I think this has given me several useful skills that I am using in the 118. Especially an interest in moving the plot as a group, not as an individual. Lastly, you’ve been with the group for a few months now- if you could give advice to yourself when you were just starting out, what would it be? My main recommendation is that they should not be shy, that they engage in the community with enthusiasm, that they would not be afraid to ask questions, that they would interact with their mentors, with their senior officers and with older members of the group. The best thing I have found so far is the tightly knitted community and being involved in it and meeting all its members, newcomers or veterans alike and learning from them makes the experience incredible. Eventually we are people from all over the world connecting behind our screens with each other and it is wonderful that this allows us to get closer to very different worlds thanks to a common interest. Thank you for your time, Ensign! You can find more about Ensign Alieth on the wiki. The post Lower Decks Interview: Ens. Alieth, Thor appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  3. 6 points
    There's something of the old-school swashbucklers about the Defiant class! Definitely a strong favourite, especially with all that nose art 😂 Hermes Class, search and rescue 👀 dive in, do the stuff, dive out
  4. 6 points
    "German, you need to get back to your ship! "Arlil said, "It’s too late for me now…" That was not what German wanted to hear as he entered into the central chamber where the Borg Queen mainly operated in the ship that was surrounded deep inside an enormous Borg city known as the Unicomplex. He was determined as hell to finally lay to rest his obsession with saving his sister. "I’m not going back until you come with me." German exclaimed in a manic state, "You know this!" "You need to or what I’m capable of will be your downfall. I’ve kept the Collective at bay for too long because I am the Collective. What these drones will do to you will be your fault." A drone simply walked past the Denobulan as if he wasn’t even there. German could feel the intensity of Arlil’s words as her head and upper body was lowered from the ceiling and connected securely onto her waiting body with the tubes unfastening from her and slithered back up, as they disappeared from view. He knew that much she was to the point of no return, but was too stubborn to admit it as he approached her into the green hue. "My downfall is not even close to happening. There’s still a piece of humanity in you or else you’d already have me assimilated." "You know as well as I do that your immune system is strong enough to hold off on being fully assimilated, German." She said as she smiled softly to him, "A physical trait that..." It was then her voice turned into the Collective and responded, "We will adapt to. We will add your biological distinctiveness to our own." Being in front of Arlil when she and the Hive Mind spoke together gave him chills as he backed up with one step, but was stopped by a drone as it put its hand on his shoulder and fully grasped it from behind him. His head turned to look at the drone and then quickly went back to glance at Arlil where she was now approaching him and raised her hand towards him. He brought his elbow back with quick force and precision that he connected with the drone’s nose which caused it to fall over. He stepped backwards again and then dodged another drone as he sidestepped it, causing it to stumble forward into Arlil which knocked her down as well. It appeared that the collision brought her back to reality as she presented a worried expression. German went into protection mode and stepped forward to help her back up, but Arlil raised her hand. "No German. Please, leave because there’s Cube ships heading over here. They’ll stop at nothing to protect me." "That’s what I’m doing too! My sole purpose here is to save you, Arlil!" "Save the little girl you once knew. Back in 2377. She’s the one that needs protecting." "Wait, do you mean..." Before he could even finish his sentence, he was transported into a Sphere that was about to fly off into space. He tried to fully grasp what she said and then heard her voice as if she was right there with him. "I’ve set the temporal coordinates to 237710.17. All you have to do is produce a tachyon pulse after you go through the transwarp conduit that leads to Earth. Farewell, German." How he was to even know what to do or even pilot the Sphere was beyond him, but as soon as he sat down in a bulky chair, the space object jolted forward and then millions of streaks of light zoomed past the viewscreen in front of him. In just a matter of seconds, he was now several lightyears away from Earth when all of a sudden, an Odyssey class Starship warped to a grinding halt in front of him. He was being hailed, but German did not want to answer it as a display in front of him appeared with guided instructions on how to out maneuver the enormous ship. He reached for the command to bolt out of there and saw that the Federation ship’s torpedoes were launching towards him, but the maneuverability of the sphere dodged the weapons fire at ease as it took off suddenly. German activated the tachyokinetic device that Arlil had set the temporal coordinates which caused a controlled emission of chronometric particles that generated a temporal vortex to form in front of him. He exhaled softly and remembered what Fleet Captain Sal Taybrim had said to him a while ago that still resonated with the scientist. "German…" Captain Taybrim said as he looked at the Denobulan and spoke softly. Empathetically and yet with a far deeper warning tone than even his last statement, "I’m not worried that your plan won’t work. I’m worried it will." "It’s what I need to do." He said softly as he closed his eyes as he went through the vortex. When he opened his eyes back up, he saw that vortex he generated was still open so he emitted a antitachyon pulse towards it to collapse the vortex so the Odyssey class starship didn’t have the chance to pursue him any further. Seeing that he was successful, he now had to figure out a way to slow the Sphere down, but was unable to cause the speed to diminish quick enough as he entered the atmosphere and saw that he was right above North America. He had enough wherewithal that German knew how to somewhat steer the ship and it started to slow itself when he centered on California. San Diego to be exact as he set the location to his childhood home. What struck him odd was why no ships were coming towards him when he noticed on the display that at some point the Sphere cloaked itself, but as he got closer to the ground, the decreasing speed allowed it to momentarily decloak as his house came into view. Goosebumps formed on his skin when the viewscreen zeroed in on the structure and saw his younger self at 15 years old was approaching his front yard and saw himself approach his little sister. She then ran into the house as expected, but then German shook his moment of distraction away when the Sphere was practically on top of the house. He tried to make it to stop, but it was too late and crashed into the back of the house causing debris of splintered wood and shattering glass all around it as the ship came to a heavy thud. Nearly frozen and shaken to the core, German wobbled his way as he stood up and right when he turned to find the exit, a drone that was hidden from his view came out of nowhere and injected nanoprobes into his neck causing him to collapse and gasp for air. The sense of dread overwhelmed him as he looked on as the drone exited the ship as his veins started to pulse profusely which caused them to bulge out as his skin started to turn dark shade of palish green. It was then that he realized before he was fully linked with the Hive Mind that it was his own doing that caused his sister’s abduction and eventual assimilation.
  5. 5 points
    I'm torn. I *almost* chose a Nova class ship for my command because I love the feeling of having a small, maneuverable stealthy ship with a specific mission type like the sciene-oriented Nova. It's would be like Bill Nye the Science Spies But I also adore the Miranda class because I love classic ships and I can not lie, you other Captains can't deny, when a ship flies in with two fine nacelles and a big old dish to swell you get *hyped!*
  6. 5 points
    Section 31 shouldn't have been introduced at all to Trek. It forever tarnished the dream of a Federation/Trek utopia with its cynical take that such a thing could not possibly exist without someone else watching over and doing the "dirty" work behind the scenes that "needs to be done." But that's the point, Odo. The Federation is not like "every other great power." That's what makes Trek unique from plenty of other sci-fi universes and their various factions. Yes, that might make it seem too cheesy or naive to certain folks with certain world views, but it's what makes or made Trek special. In other universes, a vast alliance of star systems with a giant space navy is an empire or just a larger sci-fi equivalent of today's super powers. The idea of the Federation was maybe we could just be good because it's the right thing to do and find other people who thought the same to join us. Ah well... Section 31 is one of those things I file in the same cabinet as the warp 10 salamanders and Beverly Crusher's love affair with a candle ghost. Yes, canon, but let's just keep them to those episodes, please. 😆
  7. 5 points
  8. 4 points
    When you mention ships of the Trekverse, the one everyone remembers is the Enterprise; the beautiful vessel that has captured the hearts and imaginations of the audience and the crew through years of successive storytelling. In the series, where space flight could be perilous, encounters with enemies more so, and hosting everyday life on board, the ships of the line became as recognisable in the shows as the characters themselves. You'd be hard-pressed to find a Star Trek fan who can't identify the sleek lines of the Galaxy class on sight, or punch the air when the Sovereign class makes that famed strafing run against the Borg. However, there are the unsung heroes of the Starfleet ship catalogue in the smaller ships; those with a smaller crew, designed for a specific purpose, and perform their role within the universe perfectly. This broad range of starships includes vessels designed for war the Federation didn't plan for, scientific vessels with limited weapons capabilities, ships solely for transport and supply, or for scouting in areas larger ships would be detected. In a universe where space vessels make up the primary settings for our characters, encounters, and stories, having a ship which suits the tale you want to tell is paramount. So, this week, we want to know if any of these ships have captured your interest and your imagination. Have you had dreams of sailing around the galaxy doing all the science in your Oberth class, opted for the cloak and dagger aspects of a Saber class, or would you be interested in running search and rescue missions in a Defiant? Which of these smaller ship classes has ever piqued your interest?
  9. 4 points
    Hi everyone! My name is Daphne and I live in Eastern Canada. I stumbled upon your group through a Reddit thread and I was immediately in love, I'm so excited to get started! I'm 28 and I work for a casino. I've been a Star Trek fan for more than two decades, but only recently in these stay at home order times decided to dig a lot deeper into the canon. Anything else you want to know, just ask. I'm looking forward to making new friends!
  10. 4 points
    Yeah, that's what I was thinking too – there was lots of commentary about how people didn't like TNG when it premiered. I think it's just a given that people get attached to their vision of their favorite stories, and only want to see it continue as they knew it previously. The thing that Discovery muddled a bit to me is that I got the sense in the DS9 era that Section 31 was actually operating "outside" of Starfleet and the Federation control? Like, maybe there was some kind of "top echelon" of Starfleet or the Federation that was still supplying it with resources but that it didn't actually have a mandate anywhere in normal structures and if Federation legislators knew about it they'd disavow or put a stop to it.
  11. 4 points
    Am I excited? YOU BET YOUR VULCAN MIND I'M EXCITED IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING PEOPLE I CAN FINALLY STOP SENDING LONG-WINDED EMAILS TO THE TREK GODS
  12. 4 points
    Nominations for the 2020 Awards Ceremony open on Monday, May 18 at 12:15am Pacific Time and close on Wednesday, June 10 at 11:45pm Pacific Time. If this is your awards ceremony with us, welcome! This is a tradition that dates back to 1996, wherein we honor the people of the fleet who are simming really well, or contributing OOC. Back in the "old days," we would gather the entire fleet onto one email list (we were a lot smaller then...) and sim together an award presentation; now we do things a bit differently. Here's how it works today: Everyone in the fleet submits nominations for consideration. The group staff (ship COs, EC members, etc.) review the nominations. Each ship has their own awards presentation on their OOC email list for awards in the General Awards category. Award in this category can be given to one person on each ship. Then, we have a fleetwide presentation of awards here on the forums. Awards in the Duty Post, Special, Staff, and Length of Service categories are presented over the course of three days. One person in the fleet can receive each of the Duty Post, Special, and Staff categories. How to nominate: We rely on each and every member of the fleet to submit nominations so we can recognize the best members of our community who are putting in the time and effort to make this a fun place to be. So we need your help! If you don't nominate your peers and mentors for awards, they won't get recognized. We want to encourage everyone to be really free with their nominations – there's no penalty in putting in a nomination that doesn't ultimately get the award. But ships that have fewer nominations tend to end up having fewer award winners – so don't be shy! Multiple nominations from members of a ship for any given award can help send a signal to reviewers that a certain person is really deserving, but also one really great nomination can be the deciding factor for someone to win an award. Follow these simple instructions to get started: Check out the wiki Hall of Honor to see the list of awards and learn more: https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Award Consider who you want to nominate. Then do a quick check on the list of past award winners to make sure they haven't won the award before: https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=List_of_Award_Recipients (You can sort the table by clicking on the column headers, or you can use your browser's "Find" feature to quickly find a character anywhere on the page – on PC, use CTRL+F, on Mac use ⌘+F.) If the person hasn't won the award before, head to the nomination form: https://www.starbase118.net/members/personnel/forms/award-nomination-panel/ Enter your information and select the award. Then write a nomination reason. For some awards, we'll ask you for a link to a sim if you have one readily available that helps justify your nomination. Don't stress out about finding a sim, but if you have one, it could help. If you feel really confident about your award nomination, chat with others on your ship who might also feel the same way and recommend they make a similar nomination! Writing a good nomination: Remember, your nominations are going up against other nominations from your ship (for General category awards), or from the entire fleet (Duty Post, Special, Staff category awards). So the better you make your case for why your nomination should win, the more likely it is that it will help your nominee end up getting the award. After the nomination period opens this year, going to post on the Community News some great sample nominations that helped their nominees win an award. I'll add a link to that post once it's up. But in the meantime, you can check out these from previous years: https://www.starbase118.net/2018/award-nomination-examples/ All that being said, don't go overboard! If the case for a nominee self-evident, or clearly shown by a sim, it's okay to write less in your explanation and allow the evidence to stand on its own. How to get a sim link: You can grab a link to a sim by going to your ship's Google Group archive (the link is in the footer of every sim). Awards Ceremony schedule: June 27, Saturday: Introduction, General Awards June 28, Sunday: Special and Length of Service Awards June 29, Monday: Staff Awards June 30, Tuesday: Duty Post Awards, finale/acknowledgments, complete ceremony posted. Questions? Head to the Discord chatroom, where we have the #awards2020 room where you can ask questions of other members. Or, ask your FO or CO for help – they're happy to answer questions and have been through multiple ceremonies!
  13. 4 points
    ((OOC: When reading this I could see the scene play out in front of my eyes the descriptions are spot on, and the conversation manages to weave through different topics both in the character's recent lives as well as past events. Very well done!)) ((Science Department Holodeck Facility #1, Deck 547, Starbase 118)) German had been configuring the holodeck to meet the right specs, but more he just wanted the room to look just the right way. He hadn’t seen Ayiana Sevo for a while after they were training officers together quite some time ago. After the barrage of emails between the two senior officers, they agreed on a day to go over a rather unique subject that the Trill Commander had experienced. Part of the large area had a section where a conference room was laid which was where German was at as he poured some coffee from the pot into a mug. There was another next to it that was empty, but he determined that he shouldn’t fill it in case Ayiana didn’t want any. After he took a sip, he grabbed a PADD on the table and then leaned backwards against the wall trying to make more sense of what the Gorkon had experienced. There wasn’t as much detail in the report which made sense given how important it was to summarize what happened than to dispel anything to any prying eyes. Dozens of light-years away, Ayiana stood in one of the Gorkon’s holodecks, the blank black-and-yellow grid surrounding her like an unpainted canvas. She was surprised to hear from Commander Galven in recent weeks; aside from a training class the two ran some months back on Starbase 118, she hadn’t seen him since his own final exam. He had nearly blown up a bomb in her face. German was mostly curious about Ayiana’s scientific papers, especially her theories on the recent Q encounter; more precisely, her own hypothesis on the nature of the Q. Some people had told her to drop it; by their very nature, the Q were unknowable and beyond understanding. Ayiana couldn’t accept that; to her, everything in the universe was explainable with science. This was the most unusual part. Galven had insisted they meet via holo-conferencing, a technology that had been up-and-coming in recent years. It was more personal than staring into a flat viewscreen, but she couldn’t help but feel some trepidation. With a final sigh of anxiousness, Ayiana established the connection. The blank grid disappeared around her, replaced with a lush furnished conference room in standard Starfleet decor. If she didn’t know any better, it could have been one of a dozen such rooms on the Gorkon itself. Sevo: Hello? The only other occupant in the room was a lanky man with his back to her. He wore one of the newly-issued Starfleet uniforms, a far cry from the grey-on-black jumpers with department undershirt. The new design was reminiscent of the uniforms worn just before the Dominion War, albeit with a slightly different shoulder design, subtle chevron stitching in them, and a wholly redesigned combadge. All-in-all, it looked sharp. She was still wearing the old, military-esque uniforms with a skirt. Galven: ::turns quickly around:: When did you get here? I didn’t hear you come in. Sevo: That’s what happens when you’re a hologram. Poof! :: She mimed an explosion with her hands. :: Ayiana took in the sight of the man. It had been a while since she’d seen him and his appearance seemed to have changed slightly. He stood the same height as her, but his hair was short-curled greying black. Characteristic Denobulan ridges ensconced his jovial face. Galven: ::wry grin:: Perhaps you’re right. ::shrugs:: Maybe not. Anyways, would you like some coffee? Sevo: Not unless I’m hungover, but shore leave is just getting started. You wouldn’t believe the mission we’ve had. :: She paused. :: I’ll take a Pepsi, though. When the redheaded senior officer remarked that a hangover hadn’t happened yet, German smirked as the thoughts ran through his mind. Momentarily shaking his mind off, he approached the panel and brushed his fingers along the numbered codes. Galven: Computer, activate G-SBH-001, requesting a Terran carbonated soda beverage and a Denobulan subterranean medium roast coffee. A holographic attendant appeared behind a small bar tucked into one corner. He quickly busied himself with her order while she strolled over to a couch. She sat down, crossing her legs and propped an elbow on the armrest. Sevo: I have to say, this is an unexpected venue. Is this really a holodeck? :: She half-wondered if it was a real room with holoemitters. :: German had walked over to the bar to grab their drinks once the holo-attendant finished when Ayiana was mesmerized with one of the newest holodeck features. When he walked back, he had to admit that even though uniform dress skirts were a little dated that the clothing actually fit her body type. As he sat her drink on the three legged metallic steel end table next to her side of the couch, German sat down on a black curved chair, slightly diagonal from where Ayiana was sitting, still holding his mug. Galven: ::nods:: It is. ::takes a sip:: One of the newest editions with the latest updates. Sevo: I don’t think I’ve communicated like this before. It’s much more...real. Galven: One of the many perks being on the starbase. I can send you the schematics if you're interested along with the upgrades for it to properly run in one of the holodecks on the Gorkon? Sevo: I’m sure we’ll get it during our next layover. As a Task Force flagship, we get all the bells and whistles. Besides, we’re upgraded enough to have this little chat, right? :: She winked at him as she took a sip. :: Galven: ::shrugs:: The offer is always there. ::grins:: So, how have you been? A lot of things have happened ever since we last trained some cadets together. Sevo: Indeed. You’ve got a few more pips on that collar. You haven’t blown anyone else up, have you? :: She eyed him playfully. :: Galven: More or less. We've been trying to locate a group of Klingon cultists that have devised a poisonous bioweapon. A powerful gas that kills Klingons instantly and other species. Sevo: That doesn’t seem very honorable. Klingons regard the use of poison as a coward’s weapon. Galven: I'm more interested in what you and the Gorkon crew have encountered. You said in one of the emails about encountering Q, right? Sevo: Yea. She put us in an alternate reality based on an earlier experience we had in a dream state. The difference is, this time I remember *everything* that happened. German leaned forward a little and took a sip of his drink. He was already getting pretty enthralled in what she was saying which was more than what German had to offer because he didn’t have anything to say when she paused for a second. Sevo: Don’t know how much you’ve read up on the Gorkon’s mission reports, but a couple of years ago we were captured by a renegade Trill who put us in a collective dream. We thought we were a Maquis cell still fighting the Cardassians. Anyway, Q used that as the basis of her own “science experiment.” I think she wanted to see what made us tick. Galven: That doesn’t sound like she was very experienced at all. Sevo: I got the impression that she was relatively young, or at least naive, for a Q. She wanted to learn and know about us. Galven: Well, I know about one thing. We are a pretty explosive bunch. ::chuckles as he playfully tapped her knee:: So how did you guys get out of it? Ayiana ignored the bad joke, obviously referring to the incident between them at Galven’s final exam simulation. Sevo: *We* didn’t. :: She emphasized the “we.” :: Q did. She got all the data she wanted from us, then popped us back to the Gorkon at the exact moment we left. To those around us, it looked like we hadn’t left at all. Except that one moment we were fine, then the next we were sprouting injuries. Ayiana took a sip of her soda, letting Galven soak in the news. Sevo: I don’t suppose you’ve had any experiences like that, huh? Galven: I can’t say the same for me. There haven't been any missions like that, only personal struggles and demons. Sevo: Oh, I’ve had those too. Care to give an example? Ayiana paused again, finishing her first quarter of the sandwich, took a sip of wine, then moved on to the second quarter. Sevo: Anyway, what’s this about you in the *BORG UNIMATRIX?!* :: She emphasized the last words rather loudly. :: He nearly choked on his sandwich, but caught himself in time. Her raised tone made him realize that not everyone had heard about his experiences as well as being able to create a way to go in and out of the unimatrix. Galven: Oh, yeah. Well ::takes a drink:: It started about several years before I even considered joining Starfleet. Another scientist and I worked on stray Borg nanobots and with enough tachyokinetic energy conversion, we were able to minimize it into an ocular device allowing me to enter into the unimatrix. It took her a moment to translate the technicals he just explained. Sevo: So...you don’t actually connect your mind to it? It’s more like a virtual reality tour? Still sounds dangerous. Anything having to do with the Borg is dangerous. We’ve been lucky not to cross paths with them. Galven: Eh… well… that was the plan in the beginning until there was an accident. I don’t remember too much of what happened, but during my first mission on the Veritas, I was trying to disconnect a drone from the Hive Mind when they caught on to my device and used that to partially assimilate me without me even realizing they did so. Ayiana nearly choked on her sandwich; a look of surprise and fear was on her face. Sevo: You nearly got *ASSIMILATED?!* :: She was beginning to think Galven was rather reckless. :: He stopped to take a drink and waited for the next reveal so that she could digest more about what he said. After a few seconds, he took another drink and began speaking again. Galven: ::shakes his head:: No nearly. Another mission aboard the Montreal, a Klingon terrorist had poisoned me which activated the nanoprobes that I injected into myself during those earlier years which acted as a bridge leading towards my nervous system which I basically assimilated myself, but it actually saved my life by improving my nervous system to act as a strong barrier from the poison that would’ve killed anyone else. She paused, taking a long, slow chug of her drink. Sevo: I’m going to need more bloodwine… :: She paused, finishing the mug. :: So you still have the nanoprobes in you? :: Ayiana eyed Galven up and down suspiciously, as if he was ready to burst into a Borg at any moment. :: Galven: Don’t worry. The nanoprobes were taken out by Lael. You can even see for yourself if you want? Lael Rosek. Ayiana remembered her; served with the woman for a time on the Victory and Gorkon. Sevo: No, I’ll take your word for it. Glad to hear Lael is doing well. How is her spinal injury? He didn’t even realize he said Lael’s name until Ayiana said it back to him. As he furrowed his brow and took the rest of his drink. German really tried to find the words that were suddenly lost on him. As if a long forgotten memory had just been burned into his mind. Galven: Computer. Another round of drinks. Double on the Ale. Ayiana paused her meal, blinking. Did she say something wrong? The last time he had seen her was very short and sudden. With all the work German busied himself with, he hadn’t had the chance to mourn the loss of the relationship. Galven: ::murmurs:: She had to stop taking the medicine when she found out we were pregnant. ::grasps his second drink:: Last time I heard, she was doing well enough. ::grasps the mug with both hands:: The sudden transfer orders the Astraeus received really affected her. ::takes a drink:: I lost her when the baby was lost. ::clears his throat:: Win some and you lose some, right? Anyways, that was too much to say and to put on you. I apologize. Ayiana straight up dropped her food on her plate, completely forgotten. She stared right at Galven. Sevo: *Pregnant?!* I haven’t heard from her in a while but...she was...you were…damn. She paused again, taking a long, slow sip of wine, more to shut her mouth than anything else, while she regained her composure. Sevo: I...I’m sorry. I didn’t know you and her were like that. I’m sorry for your loss. Galven: I chose not to have our relationship broadcasted so others wouldn’t think my promotions and awards were given to me because I was sleeping with the First Officer. No need to apologi-- Sevo: Don’t put down the loss so quickly. You lost *a child.* I have no idea how I’d feel if that happened, and I’ve had several over the centuries. It was a good thing that she had interrupted him because he hadn’t put two and two together ever since the news broke about it. German was always a workaholic, but when something so tragic happened, he would hammer down which would help his memory from thinking about any of those transgressions. Galven: ::stares at his mug:: Her name was going to be Galilea Belle. I was so excited about finally being a father. ::smiles softly, lost in thought as he saw more of his reflection in the mug:: The things I was going to spoil her with. It hasn’t been easy, but Lael is most likely better off without someone like me. ::takes a sip, then glances back up at Ayiana:: Are you seeing anyone? Ayiana smiled as Galven revealed his daughter’s name. Sevo: That’s a beautiful name. I’m sure you would have been a great father. :: She took a sip of her freshly refilled wine. :: No, I’m not at the moment. I hope you’re not asking...I mean...we just met...again...um… :: This time, she stuffed her mouth with a large bite of the sandwich.:: oO SHUT. UP. MOUTH. Oo Galven: ::chuckles:: I wasn’t asking, but more like trying to reverse engines on myself for the time being. I wouldn’t be a great candidate to match your prowess anyways. ::extends his mug to klink hers as a signal hopefully allowing the awkwardness to drift away:: She lifted her mug, completing the toast. Sevo: Well, I haven’t exactly had the best luck with relationships recently. Not sure what you’ve heard about me or my… “prowess”? You mean my work? Galven: Your work and being the best training officer to work with as a cadet and trainer. Even though we’re galaxies apart, I still like to brush myself up with what other scientists are doing. Especially Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo. My students hear enough about you from me. ::smirks with a wink as he takes a drink:: Her cheeks were starting to turn a shade remarkably similar to the bloodwine she was drinking. Sevo: Heh, thanks, I guess. I keep up with most of the scientific community, and I’ve seen your name here and there. You’ve become something of a celebrity among temporal mechanics circles. Galven: I don’t know about celebrity status, but when you’ve got plenty of time to work on, there’s suddenly even more time to further more research. ::smiles at his own bad pun:: Sevo: :: She arched an eyebrow at the bad joke. :: Ha. Ha. Ayiana smiled at German as she took a sip of her wine. She was glad to meet another scientist, and someone who made her laugh. JP written by Lt. Commander German Galven 2O/Chief Science Officer 6reatDane@gmail.com Starbase 118 Ops - USS Narendra V239507GG0 “Adhere to your purpose and you will soon feel as well as you ever did. On the contrary, if you falter, and give up, you will lose the power of keeping any resolution, and will regret it all your life.” - Abraham Lincoln & Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo Research Coordinator U.S.S. Gorkon V239109AS0 “Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.” -Carl Sagan
  14. 4 points
    He had done this six times. "Who are you?" Captain Gunner finally voiced a question he had been keeping in his mind since a random woman had suddenly appeared on his viewscreen. The Captain was alone, he remained on the ship whilst the rest of the crew left for shore leave. "How can you not remember me Captain?" The mysterious female answered back, insinuating that they had met before and that the Captain should be fully aware of that fact. "Why would I? I've never seen you before." Captain Gunner believed this to be true, his mind couldn't find anything related to this woman. Her curly brown hair and ocean coloured eyes didn't seem familiar at all. He continued to focus on the unfamiliar face as she answered back. "Alice." That rang a bell. The Captain stood up off his chair and calmly approached the viewscreen, the high pitched noises, that were common ear fodder on the bridge, played in the background as the Captain got closer and closer to the woman in front of him. "Alice… Gunner?" It was a shot in the dark, but one he believed would hit. "Yes" she replied. Everything now made sense. The Captain was definitely not a forgetful man, he remembers everything and everyone, but someone he purposely forgot was his daughter, a baby that didn't make it. All logic flew out the window as tears trickled down the Captains face, the impossibility of this situation didn't matter to him anymore. A broken man laid face down on the floor, banging his hands against the floor of the bridge whilst crying his eyes out. "How could you let me die daddy?" He continued to cry, until he couldn't bear it anymore. Bang He had done this seven times. "Who are you?" Captain Gunner finally voiced a question he had been keeping in his mind since a random woman had suddenly appeared on his viewscreen.
  15. 3 points
    Sami for President!!! That's very unlikely to happen, or maybe when she's the last person on a deserted planet and she lost her mind completely. 😂
  16. 3 points
    From Commander Marshall post. Never thought about that! I might use the idea in the future.
  17. 3 points
    While the Defiant is a damn nice ship, I just can't ever get over how cute and silly the Oberth class looks, it gets my vote
  18. 3 points
    The Defiant definitely is a beautiful little thing- but it's the Nova who's always had a special place in my heart. I love the idea of a tiny science vessel zooming through space with barely enough room to breathe. 😂
  19. 3 points
    And we have a winner ladies and gentlemen and all other species. The QotM badge for April goes to.... Rachel Flores (aka @Anath G'Renn )with: If anything, lucky was an understatement. She owed the away team a nice fruit basket or some other gesture of gratitude before they departed the colony. The only worry was if the replicator had any “Thank you for rescuing me from a fate of involuntary mutation into a Human-fungus creature abomination” cards on file. Congrats Rachel! And special thanks to @Jo Marshall for making the awesome shroom... I mean badge. Greets Sami.
  20. 3 points
    ^^^^ @SirokTechnobable over 9000 👏👏👏
  21. 3 points
    OOC- Maybe not my best work but I wrote this a week or two ago and felt it was time to post it without much looking over, mostly before I forgot, lol. Enjoy. Sheila Bailey had come back to a place of rest after a stressful day treating patients. It hadn’t been her worst day ever but not her best either. She was running on empty by the end of it, her muscles aching. The best cure would have been to rest in the optional low gravity her living quarters provided, however she didn’t seem to have the energy once flopped onto the couch. Instead she had ended up scrolling through the files on her personal data PADD. The scrolling was lazy, without meaning until a small piece of information from her medical file came into view. Sheila had kept copies of her medical file for personal reasons but hardly ever looked at them. This time however it brought her back. The memory as a whole was fragmented. The tropical palms, pink flowers on Elaysia wet with rain. The outside temperature was warm despite the rain. It was a time of year when most of the general population stayed inside due to the heavy rains and humid temperature. However her two sisters had run out of the house. Sheila didn’t remember much else of the event. Maybe that was a good thing. However she remembered the smashed plates and bowls in the family home, done by her uncle. Her sisters had run off in order to get away. In the end so had she. Being out in the rain was not an enjoyable experience. On Elaysia she had been able to run. Each step carrying her several feet. It was freeing yet her vision was and subsequently her memory clouded in red and grey. After running off the only thing she remembered was sitting in the back of some vehicle, a harsh itchy wool blanket wrapped around her. The older woman shook her head, clearing it of the memory. She had broken free of her Uncle’s grasp. No use dwelling in the past. Or was there? Bailey spoke, or at least she thought it was her own voice, into the empty room to no one but herself. “I forgive you.” The statement held no emotion, not at first anyway. After a few minutes she realized it was her voice but it sounded older, wiser. Beep. A chime alerts her to her PADD. A voice recording, however it’s dated from several years in the future. She wasn’t sure how such things could be possible but shrugged it off pressing play anyway. A voice starts speaking. It’s a middle toned voice, with what sounds like years of life as well as wisdom coming from it’s user. “Hello Bird. It might seem strange that this recording is from the future but I’m glad you are listening to it. Yes you, the same you speaking is the same one listening, just from different points in time but hear me out. I know how much you’ve struggled with your past. How much you will continue to struggle. Yes you. I will forgive him one day. Forgive yourself. Forgive myself. Don’t ever give up. Never. It’s as simple as that really. The greatest lesson I ever learned was that he didn’t define me. That I could think for myself. You Bird are smart, kind, a healer, friend, and family to many. The best advice I was ever given was actually given to me by me. No woman should suffer at the hands of men. Ta-er al-Safar Bird.” With that the recording ended leaving Bailey to sit in silence.
  22. 3 points
    Greetings! I'm very excited to begin the process to join this community. I've researched a number of different communities and found this one to be quite active and well organized. There are some online "fleets" that work hard to be big. Everyone who applies can get a ship. That's not exactly my motivation. I'm interested in flexing my creative writing muscles. For many years I belonged to an online writing community and have not found the same connection as I have in the past. That site has thousands of members and if you step away due to life concerns things can move too fast and it's tough to get back into the culture. So far it's been a pleasant experience applying. I have tons of questions, but am practicing patience to savor these early moments. Often joining and being the newbie is something we want to rush out of quickly, but I'm going to lavish in the attention and time. 🤭 -Dr Moon (Cadet Airik Tierney)
  23. 3 points
    I could have sworn I replied to this yesterday in a way too long post, and now suddenly I can't see any trace of that post... weird. Anyway, the basic gist of it was that being a fan of Trek since 94 right at the end of TNG, I've seen how every Trek show and movie since gets the same division of many fans liking it, some not sure, and others quite vocal in their dislike. According to the TNG cast, the same happened with them when their show first premiered. Ultimately, as we continue to get more Trek shows, it'll be okay if not everyone likes every show. Trek has moved beyond just one show and one overall concept of a ship doing it's weekly adventures on a mission of exploration. I compare it to music. It's okay not to like every song out there or even every song of an artist you do like. I think a lot of the negativity though nowadays is from people who get a little too obsessed with the hate-watching, which I think social media and YouTube have really helped feed. To be clear, I don't think that fits anyone here in our community, but we all know it's an issue that isn't just in the Trek fandom but also Star Wars, Doctor Who, and practically anything else these days. And with some "critics" I see online or making videos, you almost wonder if our culture has just shifted to one of making entertainment from bashing other creative works (even tongue in cheek videos that name everything a movie did wrong or how it should have ended, etc.). But I can't help but notice it seems a lot of times, it's just the common theme that the newer stuff since that of childhood (or whatever a person's first entry into a fandom was) doesn't live up to the legacy of their fandom.
  24. 3 points
    The small computer screen snapped into focus, a familiar sight in the background. Her Zhavey’s office, and taking up the foreground, Ejherenna zh’Qynallahr, her Zhavey. Piravao sighed and sank back in her seat, antennae flicking away to focus on some other part of the small shuttle. “What do you want, Ejherenna?” Her tone was dismissive, uninterested and mildly irritated. “Is a Zhavey not allowed to call her child from time to time?” Ejherenna’s antennae flicked in a way which indicated her feelings had been hurt by Piravao’s dismissiveness. “Last time we spoke you tried to convince me that I needed to come home and form my bond with those three you picked for me.” Piravao’s antennae flicked forward, posturing aggressively toward her Zhavey. She knew the names of the three selected for her, she had spoken with them numerous times in letters and the occasional subspace call, yet her Zhavey need not know that. Ejherenna’s antennae flicked to a defensive posture “Yes, but it’s for--” “I don’t want to bond with them,” Piravao cut her off ”and I’m confident they don’t want to bond with me either.” That was something she had learned in their letters. Like her, they all came from old families, and like her, they had been told that they would bond with people they had never met. They were all nice people, and Piravao considered the three of them her friends, yet there was no love between any of them. She had experienced love, Ezitesh zh’Reiji, the zhen she had shared a wild winter with on the shores of Emarnl Lake. Her hand strayed up to her shoulder, stroking the fabric above the tattoo she shared with the zhen. Ejherenna noticed the movement, her antennae curled in disdain “You still hold feelings for that nomad? You would rather court that barbarian than those whose bloodline is as noble as yours?” Piravao’s antennae lashed about in anger at the comment. “There is nothing ignoble about clan Reiji, they honour the ancient ways of our people. You could learn a trick or two from them.” Ejherenna’s expression hardened, her antennae moving together and angling toward Piravao. Then she sat back, her antennae relaxing as she did so. “I...apologize, that was rude of me.” Piravao relaxed her antennae too “It was” “I’m trying to meet you halfway here my Shei, but you have to give me something to work with.” Ejherenna’s expression was one of sadness, her antennae drooping over her forehead. “I don’t want a repeat of the day you left.” “I regret my actions that day, but I do not regret the outcome.” Piravao’s eyes met her Zhavey’s, her antennae flicked forward as her Zhavey’s flicked up, they wobbled back and forth, measuring each other up. “You broke Jhozahosh’s nose, Zartholh, Ashryvoss and I were quite upset when you left.” Ejherenna’s antennae sank down again, her expression mournful. “Jhozahosh has survived worse, and I’m sure Charan and Thavan got over themselves soon enough” Piravao saw her Zhavey flinch slightly at her choice of words, calling her Shreva by her name, while referring to her Charan and Thavan as her parents. It was deliberate, yet also unconscious. Her Shreva and Zhavey had been absent for much of her childhood, and as such she had formed a much closer bond to her Charan and Thavan. “She wanted to come after you. Ashryvoss spent almost three hours talking her down. I had to call the families of your bondmates and explain why--” “They are not my bondmates!” Piravao yelled, her antennae flicking up aggressively “When will you get it into your head that I will not bond with them.” “I had to talk them down!” Ejherenna yelled back “They wanted to go after you too! Were it not for me you would have been dragged back to the keep kicking and screaming!” “Oh, well thanks for letting me live my own life Ejherenna!” Piravao’s antennae lashed back in anger, almost burying themselves in her hair. “Did it perhaps occur to you that I might want to form my own bondgroup? Perhaps with people I love rather than people who were chosen for me?” “That is not our way. There are traditions that must be followed.” Ejherenna’s tone was much calmer, however her antennae were angled forward, a sign that she was ready to fight her position. “Traditions which are hundreds of years old! Traditions, which predate our people discovering warp travel. Traditions, which in times gone by would have involved blood sacrifices of Shens and children to try and prevent the snowmelt from drowning towns!” Piravao’s face was flushed a dark blue, verging on purple. Her antennae had almost vanished into her hair at this point. “Don’t compare the Spring Water Festival to your Time of Knowing Ceremony.” Ejherenna’s antennae flicked as though she found this comparison amusing. “They are nothing alike.” “Not any more, the Spring Water Festival has evolved. We’ve grown wiser and realized that blood sacrifices change nothing. Yet we still cling to thousand year old traditions when it comes to bonding.” Her antennae relaxed slightly, her face returning to its more natural shade. “And why? Because we are ‘the old blood’. So what? There is no real advantage to that in this age. All we are doing is clinging weakly to the glory of our ancestors and telling the rest of Andoria that we are stuck in the past. The rest of Andoria woke up when we helped to found the Federation, they discarded outdated notions and advanced. They started bonding for love, not power. So why should I bond with people whom I do not know simply to increase your standing in parliament. Your career is yours, what I do has no bearing on that. If I wish to bond for love then I shall, and if you have a problem with than then you--” Piravao paused for a moment, her Zhavey’s antennae were focused on her, yet her eyes had drifted off to the left, and Piravao could hear the faint taps and beeps of a PADD “Are you working while I’m talking to you?” Ejherenna’s eyes snapped back to Piravao “Oh, um, no. I wasn’t working, just, ah, checking a message from the council.” Anger flashed through Piravao’s eyes. “Don’t lie to me Ejherenna! If you cannot honour me with your full attention then there is no point in us continuing this debate. Goodbye!” Piravao slammed her finger down on the console before her, ending the call in a flash of anger.
  25. 3 points
    I'm fairly certain Aria made an extra curricular out of avoiding all that stuff.
  26. 3 points
    The Dome on the hostile planet was lit up with the bright light from the nearest sun, rays breaking through the glass in infinite shades of yellow and red. Parker sat outside one of the many bars they had around here, or what the locals referred to as sprinklers. At least they had a sturdy seating situation here. It would not be the first piece of furniture his enhanced muscles crushed under their weight. Just one more cup of coffee, and he will have the pleasure to finally get away from this dump. Granted it was a good looking one, but he did not shy away from looking behind all that sparkle and greatness around the place. “Yo.” He knew what was happening even before he turned around. “Harlow, what a pleasure.” It was not, and Parker got his point across by flipping the young and slimy man off. What a paper pusher he was, standing above him with his nice suit and that fancy Borsalino on his head. His face was way too smug and clean for Parkers taste, he almost had to gag. “I wanted to ask you something.” His gesture was ignored, and he waited for the man to finally reach the point of his visit. “I need to know how you got your hands on that automated puppy. Price and everything. The Burgomaster loved it, and I’m sure his daughter wants one for herself soon.” He anticipated that someone would ask and produced a data stick from his pocket. Without resistance or a word from himself, the tiny thing exchanged hands. “Thanks, Parker.” He waved the man away from him, leaving the scene not shortly after. The coffee was still steaming, but his appetite was ruined. Time to get away. His shuttle was waiting for him, and the transition ship will be entering the system soon. Korala was the name of the warp capable ship, and he hated that place too. At least no one bothered him in his shuttle as he waited for the massive warpdrive of the ship to spin up. No one, except his best friend of course. The little pet dragon crawled over the instruments of the pilot compartment and jumped on Parkers arm. Watching him patiently with googly eyes. Typical. He knew that his defense would not last long and before he knew it, he was petting the cursed reptile. A rumble went through the ship and they signaled the passengers that a jump will commence soon. Little Paolo managed to fall asleep on his arm in a new record time and he had to bend over to activate one of the many polished screens around him. The signal was hooked into the net of the planet and with that he had access to the local news. They focused on a recent explosion in the local refinery that spanned half the planet. Their lifeblood had an accident, something blew the grav-engine to pieces right as the Burgomaster was visiting the top engineers. Parker lit a cigar and listened to the extra fans around him kick into action. What a marvelous investment. Back at the display, they feared that the incident will plunge the planet into economic disaster. No one out here wants to get bought by some big corporation. It was only natural to fear change, but without that refinery spitting out profits there will be no choice. They feared some sort of tampering, maybe even a conspiracy. He could not keep that ugly grin off his face. Whoever was responsible for that chaos is going to get a lot of credits for it. The ship leapt into warp speed and he shed his name away from him and the logs like a snake. Parker ceased to exist in that moment and all that made him up dissolved into nothing. The man will be called Ridor from now on. And he did not even get to see if the people back at Parkers last known location managed to find the mini nuke in the puppy he brought to the planet only a few days ago. Only the death toll. And that was something he was not even the slightest bit interested in.
  27. 3 points
    ((OOC: A fantastic JP establishing one of the MSNPC 'factions' the Thor is going to encounter during their current mission, The Lost Colony. My sincerest compliments to @Ben Garcia & @Quen Deena)) (( Structural technician team delta completing authorised duties near Vel Maijan Subterra Development Zone )) Air hissed, and the aerosol splattered the wall with blue specks. The hiss expired, the can rattled and out shot a thick, crisp stream of blue. The circle was sprayed first. Imperfect, but functional. A stroke left and then a stroke right. That filled the circle with a cross. It had been marked for further measurements. She stood back a moment, checking her tag. The cross was tight and streak free. The circle disappointed her, like always. Her supervisor called out. She glanced over, held up her free hand and stumbled on the workbag. That’s when the canister fell and rolled. She was always diligent. She always took it slow and followed the protocol. They’d done a good job though. They’d worked hard. It was break, and the sup’s joke had made them all laugh. Later, when she’d unravel the bandages and pull back the gauze, she’d guess the laugh had made them all careless. She lent down, like anyone might, and grabbed the canister. The pain wouldn’t hit her for a few seconds, for there was still her gloves to peel into. It was panic that made her scream. The panic of seeing the canister choke and smoulder as she held it in her hand. She threw it back down - there was not much else she could do now. The second scream was pain. She passed out before the third. (( CD’s office, primary medical unit, Vel Maijan Subterra. )) Rick bit his stylus as he read the report back. Attending: Rick Armiger, Chief Doctor. Patient: Kassy McBill, Senior Structural Technician Summary: Patient came into contact with biological substance echo-charlie-thirty-one during authorised duties. Rick tapped the end of his stylus on the desk as he gulped a mouthful of water. Signs of activity this close to Vel Maijan Subterra was worrying. Rick continued to proof read his report: Contact resulted in the destruction of the patient’s right thumb, index finger and middle finger. In line with current medical protocol the right hand was amputated to control substance echo-charlie-thirty-one and prevent contagion. Samples have been collected from the contaminated appendage prior to its transport to the disposal site in line with protocols for managing contact with substance echo-charlie-thirty- .… A knock at the door flicked Rick’s eyes up from the screen. Outside, Ellen pulled the door open just enough to poke her head in. Flynn: Now a good time? Rick pushed his chair back and smiled. It was good to see a friendly face. Armiger: Grab a seat. Ellen shifted a heavy box labelled ‘EC-31’ to the floor and sat herself in the newly-vacated chair. Flynn: How’s Kass? Armiger: Sedated. (Rick raised his eyebrows.) One conversation I’m happy to put off. Ellen pressed her palms against her knees, breathing a gasp of equal tension and relief. Finally, a survivor.. Flynn: Alive… (beat) I don’t envy you. She won’t take it well. Armiger: No. (Rick rolled the stylus along the table.) No she won’t. (Rick took a breath and looked at Ellen.) She’ll adapt. She’ll pull through. She has to. Flynn: I’d like to talk to her when she wakes up. Maybe she saw something that can give us a clue... Armiger: Of course. (Rick spoke with compassion.) Let’s give her another hour or two before … (Rick paused.) … before we turn her world upside down, eh? Ellen tucked a lock of ginger hair behind her ear. She leaned forward in her chair until her elbows met her knees, forehead pressed against her palms as she stared at the floor. She was tired. Tired of fighting something they could not detect, could not see until it was too late - something that took life and limb faster than anything they’d ever seen before. Flynn: Six fatalities in twelve weeks… (She sat back up after a moment with a heavy breath.) I’m putting the project on hold. Elbows on the table, Rick cupped his forehead between his hands. He squoze at the temples. There was no relief. It did not come. Pausing the project would stoke discontent and fan the flames of fear. The project had been a unifying force for the colony. It was something to be hopeful about. Rob them of that and … Rick took a breath and rubbed his forehead. He sat back now, one hand over the armrest while the other ran through his choppy black hair. Rick rested the hand on the crown of his head as he looked at Ellen huddled on her chair, and then out past her at Kass through the observation window. Pausing the project bought them time. Maybe Ellen could distract them by upping preparatory work and manufacturing. She’d pulled off such sleight of hand before; she was a shrewd leader and that might buy her enough leeway to weather out this storm - for all of them to get through it. Armiger: There’ll be some resistance, Ellen. The project. (Rick paused.) It means a lot. Flynn: I know. There’s no right answer here, Doc. We’ve managed so far, we’ll be fine without the expansion for a while. Have to tighten up the rationing - break up more fights… Ellen stared at a chunk of quartz embedded in the rock wall behind Rick. What had been a population of eighty when their grandfathers first went underground now numbered nearly two hundred. Just enough to start outgrowing the cavern they’d originally settled in. Over the past year, teams had been heading deeper in - scouting the best possible route for expansion. It had been going well, until they’d encountered the substance. Three died on the day they first discovered the foamy, gelatinous, rock-like substance lining the walls of one of the caverns being surveyed: their bodies burned and disintegrated nearly beyond DNA recognition. Subsequent encounters had not yielded better results. Amputation could spare a life, when contact with the substance was limited. Although, with fewer victims living than dead, the longer-term effects remained to be seen... Flynn: But we can’t keep losing people. There aren’t enough of us to keep fighting this … (gesturing toward the box) thing. And I know you’ll agree with me there. (Beat.) Any closer to figuring out what it is? Rick followed Ellen’s glance towards the containment box and shook his head. Armiger: Beyond the last report? (Rick shook his head sharply.) No. We know it’s highly acidic and contains two distinct bacteria. Jury’s out on the bacteria. (Rick made a humming noise.) The team is of the opinion that whatever the substance is, it’s not excreted by the rock - it’s being deposited by something. Flynn: Keep at it. Sam’s got the transmitter working - still can’t change the message. Armiger: The team is analysing samples from Kass. We’re pushing hard on this Ellen. We’re trying the experimental procedures on these samples. (Rick shifted in his seat.) We’re going to unpick this. Rick paused at the thought of Sam; the last time he saw Sam, that transmitter was getting a kicking. Rick laughed. Security had stepped in at one point citing charges of vandalism. Armiger: (Laughing.) Sam finally kicked that thing into submission then? Flynn: Kicked, slapped, threatened to sell it for scrap… No idea who he was planning on selling it to - (laughing) he’d have to get it working first! It was good to see Ellen smile, if only fleetingly. Rick smiled and nodded. Armiger: Someone might hear it. Let’s hold onto that hope for now. Ellen raised her eyebrows. Flynn: And let’s hold onto the hope that whoever hears it is friendly... Rick exhaled audibly at the thought of them attracting more hostile attention. It was a scenario that had been chewed over by the department heads at the colony steering meetings for months. Their repeated cautions had delayed the activation of the transmitter. In that delay, lives had been lost until finally the argument for sending the distress called outweighed the concerns. Rick changed the subject. Armiger: What time is the debrief? Flynn: Eight. Sam’ll patch you in if you can’t make it. Rick looked out at Kass. The sedation kept her unawares of the horror she had yet to wake up to. Eight, Rick repeated it to himself. That only gave Rick the best part of two hours. An hour to check in on the team’s experimental analysis of the EC-31 samples, and then an hour to speak to Kass. That assumed there would be no more inbound incidents to the primary medical unit (PMU) between then and now. Armiger: I’ll try Ellen, you know that. (Rick noded in the direction of Kass.) I might miss the start. Ellen pushed herself up out of the chair with a long look out at Kass. Flynn: Let me know, Doc. I’ll be over at Sam’s. Armiger: (Rick mustered a smile.) Tell Sam congrats. (Rick paused and clarified.) The transmitter. (Rick’s smile dropped.) Ellen - they’ll understand the pause. They’ll have to. Rick watched as Ellen left the office. In several paces, she was gone from sight, eclipsed by the ward partition. Rick sat and took a minute. Tonight’s debrief would be tough. The department heads would need some shepherding; it’d be a strenuous meeting. Rick decided to make sure he had as much data available to help Ellen as he could. That meant getting down to the containment lab and checking the team’s progress. Out in the corridor, Ellen leaned against the wall. Two hours. Two hours to come up with a solid way to break the news about the expansion delay, while simultaneously trying to get the transmitter to broadcast something, anything, other than a seventy-year old distress call. The call was already coming from a man who was long dead - and for all they knew, it was going to a government that no longer existed. End. ========================================== Ellen Flynn Colony Leader & Rick Armiger Chief Doctor Simmed by: Lieutenant Quen Deena (Ellen Flynn) Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 E239602QD0 & Lieutenant Ben Garcia (Rick Armiger) Second Officer/HCO USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: G239102MR0
  28. 3 points
    Cadet Romyana Casparian stood at the back of the bridge of the long distance federation transport vessel from where she could see the spectacular Trojan class Starbase growing bigger and more beautiful on the large view screen. The ship moved carefully closer toward the upper section of the base, preparing for the docking maneuvers. She was totally amazed by the enormity of the structure as it quickly occupied the entire view screen and continued to dwarf the entire ship. Then the view screen snapped into focus on an impossible sight - a blue planet she immediately recognized as Earth - the Starbase was nowhere near Earth! How could this be? A voice from her past spoke to her, and when she turned to look, she saw her good friend Cadet Nommi Jarr suddenly standing next to her. He sure wasn’t there before, he couldn't be, he was back on Earth. Then Romyana remembered how only a little while ago they stood, exactly like this, side by side watching the view screen on their voyage towards Earth. “We will beam down to the Academy directly from the parking orbit?” Nommi asked. “Yes. To San Francisco, the city. And finally we will take the monorail to cross the campus grounds.” Romyana whispered to not disturb the bridge crew. “Oh, I hope we don’t make any mistakes and get lost.” the Cadet worried. “Don’t worry, I’ve done it before. I’ve lived in this city for 2 years. We won’t get lost.” Romyana reassured him. For him it was the first time, though Romyana was returning from her cadet cruise to finish her fourth year. They had met on the deep space station and during those months became inseparable companions - two young and naive students whose mission seemed to be to give their mentoring superiors headaches, while enjoying a carefree life. She'd been ecstatic when he got the news that he was accepted to the Academy. *** “Well, this is it, the first year student dormitories. My room is in the thin high building way over there. The petty officer will fill you in on the rest.” Romyana said to Nommi when they had arrived at the entrance of building FD3 on the Starfleet Academy grounds. “So, where are you going now? You still have some free days left. How will you spend them?” “I haven’t thought of that yet.” “Maybe you can visit your family. They live in this city, you told me once.” “Hmm, maybe. Though, I think they are not very eager to see me.” Romyana said somberly. “And you? You must have missed them. Just go and see them... while you can.” Nommi tried to convince her and placed a hand on her shoulder to convey the importance of the last couple of words. Romyana decided to follow Nommi’s advice. He had lost his father a few years ago and he used to say that ‘you don’t realize how much you love a person until he is gone, then it will be too late’. “All right then. See you tomorrow!”. So Romyana put aside her stubbornness and went to see her mother and father. They both had positions at Starfleet Headquarters at the moment, so that is where she went first. It was right next to the Academy campus, she walked there through the park. It was a calm and sunny December day and it had been snowing the day before, so the grass was all covered in snow. It had been a long time since she had seen snow and her nose felt cold and tingly in the freezing air. At that moment she felt very content being back on Earth. It took the Ensign a while to find the whereabouts of her father and mother. Father had a free day and was at home, in the center of San Francisco. Mother was in her office, some floors up in the Headquarters building. Romyana went to see her first, as it was nearest. When she announced herself to the secretary, she was told to wait. The Ensign took a seat in the waiting lounge, but it took more than an hour before she was called inside the office. “The Captain will receive you now.” the secretary said monotonically. Anxiously Romyana stepped inside the office and approached the desk. While doing so she noticed the stern expression on her mother’s face didn’t change. The Captain didn’t show any sign of gladness for her daughter’s return. About halfway to the desk Romyana halted and croaked a greeting. “Hi mom.” “Have you forgotten how to salute an Officer, Cadet?” her mother said sternly, with the emphasis on Cadet. The young Cadet knew her mother was never one to show much emotion due to her Vulcan upbringing, but she was also half human and had been able to show some kind of tenderness when Romyana and her brother were young children. This certainly was not quite the welcome she’d expected. She stood at attention to salute her mother, who was a Captain in rank. “So tell me, they have sent you back home because they couldn’t use any inexperienced students out there.” mother said nastily and without any kind of expression on her face. “No, Ma’am. I have returned to finish the last of the fourth year classes, Ma’am. And I thought I might as well come and see you again.” Romyana said hopefully. “You might as well. Ah, has it been a year already then?” mother replied dryly. “More.” Romyana corrected. After a short tense pause, her mother spoke. “You have seen me now. Thank you for the announcement, you are dismissed, Cadet.” She wondered what had changed for her mother to become so distant like this. Was she still angry at her for what she did over a year ago? Despite the insecurity and hurt that Romyana felt due to her mother’s cold words she kept her head high, saluted and calmly left the room. Her mother remained ever emotionless. As soon as the Ensign closed the office door, tears came to her eyes. Partly angry, partly disappointed, she marched out of the building into the park and sat down on a bench, in a quiet corner near the water. There she sat motionless for a while, staring across the water's calm surface. She wanted to scream, throw something or maybe even punch someone - instead she counted slowly to seven. It was a trick her grandmother taught her on one of the rare occasions that the Vulcan relative left the home world to come see her -mostly- human grandchildren. “Romyana?” she heard a familiar male voice say in the distance. “What a nice surprise and wonderful coincidence to see you here!” The Cadet looked back over her shoulder and to her delight she saw her father approaching. She quickly wiped away her tears on the cuff of her uniform sleeve before he’d see she was crying. A smile came back to her face and he gave her his typical cheerful grin. Also a Starfleet officer, her human father had always supported and encouraged her to achieve the best in life. He sat down next to her on the bench, blew a hot breath on his hands to warm them up and folded them in his lap. “Well.” he said curiously, “How was it out there? Did you like it?” “Oh yes! It was wonderful, just as you had always told me. I met many people and different cultures, most are very kind. And I’ve learned so much.” Romyana said, her joyfulness had returned immediately when thinking back to her cadet cruise days. “The adventure you have been waiting for for so long, hey? I am glad it was as you expected.” “It was better than I expected!” “So you are finishing your fourth year classes now. Have you prepared well?” “Yes, I am confident about them.” “You have had a lot on your mind there, I’m sure. But you must try to score highest.” her father encouraged her. “Yes, I know. I will still go for top grades.” Romyana said reluctantly and produced a thin lipped smile. “Oh I’m sure about that. I don’t expect any less.“ he said, which only increased the pressure for Romyana to do well. “Why are you out here? You don’t have to work today.” “I thought I’d come and see your mother. I was planning on taking her out to lunch, and it is so beautiful to stroll through the snow.” father explained while looking out across the lake and the snow covered campus grounds. “Oh, well. I have to warn you then, she is in a bad mood today. She still hasn’t forgiven me.” “You have paid her a visit then? In that case, a good lunch is just what she needs.” father laughed the matter away. Romyana laughed too but she was not amused. “Well, I must be going now. I don’t want to anger her too. Oh, and do come by to have a drink or something. Your brother will be pleased to see you again. Goodbye.” he said whilst getting up from the bench. Then he marched away along the yellow path in between fluffy white and sparkling snow. Romyana sneezed. She thought it’d be best if she went inside her dormitory before catching a cold. She sneezed again and stood up from the bench and strolled through the snow, making the bottoms of her trouser legs cold and wet. She sneezed for the third time and found that she was suddenly back on the bridge of the transport vessel again and there was no-one standing next to her. It has just been a very vivid memory. On the view screen the Starbase’s huge dry dock area was revealed as the docking bay doors slowly opened. It was a captivating sight, and she stood gazing wide eyed, smiling from ear to ear of excitement. *** The ship had arrived at the station and it was time to disembark. Usually Nommi would be waiting for her just outside the airlock when she’d come back from a field trip, but now that would no longer be the case. Admittedly, they could always write or call, but she'd still miss him and his ever present positive attitude. The young Cadet would have to build herself a new life with new friends now, but Romyana knew she could do it, because she’d done it during the cadet cruise and she’d do it again on the Starbase. -END-
  29. 3 points
    First sim in training and the CO gets my characters name wrong. I started to email her and correct her. but I decided to just roll with it in character. Maybe it was intentional, to see how I would react. If so, that was a pretty good idea. Either way, it made the situation more real and gave me a bit more to role play. It's only been one sim, but so far I love it!
  30. 3 points
    The battle was over and Nugra was on the way to the galley of the GSN Claws of Blood. It was nowhere as fancy as those aboard Federation vessels. Nugra had served on everything from the small Intrepid-class starship to the beautiful Sovereign-class ships. The Gorns preferred efficiency over design. The heavy tables were anchored down and the roar of the fire from the pits filled the room with smoky goodness. The fires, of course, were holographic but the heat emitting from them was not. They could live like their ancestors and roast meat over an open fire without risking the vessel with real fire. The holograms just added flair to them. “Senior Commander!” Ak’lar called from his place around one of the fire pits. He was holding a large leg of some animal over the fire making it glisten in its own fats. “Come! Sit! Eat!.” Nugra grinned at a lizard that he never thought would be his friend. A Black claw soldier from the wars, his enemy and somehow the green lizard with blue stripes had become a comrade. The ribbons and ropes on his chest and shoulders, the gem-studded Vss’Kot at his waist told of each and every honor he had won. Even those of the old Gorn Empire cause the youngest lizards to stare at him in awe. Starfleet was of science and knowledge, the Gorn were of deeds and duty. Nugra pulled out his plate which the other Gorns snickered. “You have lived with the humans for too long, brother,” another massive lizard said who took up twice the room. He hulked over the fire making the chunk of meat look small. “You need plateware aboard a Gorn ship?” “I like not to look like a beast when I eat.” “So you look dainty like a Romulan?” “Is that not better?” Nugra joked pretending to hold the plate as daintily as possible. There was a mixture of boos and laughter from her comment as Eeska, his friend, playfully swatted Nugra’s head in a sign of affection. Eeshka was a beautiful lizard with her small frame, gently spines running down her back, and small snout. Her topaz eyes glittered at him as she squatted beside him. “Why do you have that flimsy piece of human technology?” Ak’lar asked finally. The way he spoke showed he had been wanting to ask for quite some time. “A gift from my first captain in the Federation. It’s a reminder.” “A reminder of what?” the young Senior Ensign spoke up at his side, feeling safe being closer. “For every great thing, there are mistakes one should never forget.” *** Nugra found his room, tapped in the pass-code and strode into the muggy air. The thick aroma of Abalor plants and incense relaxed him immediately. There was a small, alien scent in his room. The biting but aromatic Jestral root nipped at his powerful nostrils and the memory of a certain Trill captain had come to his mind. The smell was calming and familiar in the muggy wild of his home. He did not make the same mistake as last time, he had sent her a note before he left Federation space that he was heading back to his home-world. The relationship between the Gorn and the Federation had not healed to the point of open communication. It would have been very difficult for him to send anything to her let alone making it there after the censors had looked at it. There was still fear the Federation was going to be out for revenge. Nugra went over to the little pot that held the growing roots of the Jestral plant and checked the soil monitors. The plant glistened in the starlight as the condensation kissed the leaves. He crouched down gently caressing it as if it had been a pet. It was the only thing that he had of the other life of a starfleet Captain. That was probably why Jalana Rajel had gotten it to him before he was too far deep into Gorn space. He had no clue how to make the tea but he planned to take the leaves to her when it was time to go home and have her show him. ‘When do I go home?’ Was not this his home now? There was actually nothing left in Starfleet for him. Since stepping down from his command of the USS Victory he had gone from one department to another, ship after ship. His chances for Fleet Captain dwindling at each move. Starfleet needed people of his experience and the Gorn never thought they hated him but his career had come to an end. Nugra knew he was fooling himself to think that he would ever command a Federation vessel again. Nugra Tk’Moong let the memories of his ship, the Victory, fill his mind from the corner where he guarded the deepest thoughts. The smell of the carpet and plasteel, the humm of the machinery. The quick, exciting talks of Ayiana Sevo, the rich Scottish accent of Alucard Vess, the gentle tones of Talia Kaji. Talia. It had even considered resigning his commission for a while before the request to return to Gorn space had come. Shaking himself of the revelry, he forced himself to the present. He was Senior Commander Nugra, Son of Moong, the High Arbiter of the Defender of the Egg, Holder of the Princess’ Ruby. He was a god among Gorn. Then why didn’t he feel at home? Ignoring the nagging voices, he climbed under the heavy animal hides and curled up to sleep. *** Nugra’s uniform was perfect as usual with his ribbons, medals, and ropes all positioned perfectly. Nugra strode into the room with confidence and certainty. Nugra strode in a crossed his left arm across his chest with hand out in a Gorn salute. “Reporting as ordered, Senior Master.” The older lizard turned to face him from the multitude of floating holographic screens that provided him everything he needed to know about the sector. "I need your experience from the Federation." "Oh? How can I serve?" Master Hrrsh tapped his claw against the duraglass panel and the screen changed to a starmap which he motioned Nugra to take a look at. The Gorn strode over closer and peered at it and recognized the coordinates being displayed. "This is Meeriso sector?" Nugra asked with a tilt of his head in surprise. "It's barren for the most part except for ion storms and a few other unique phenomena." "Yes," Hrrsh said with a nod. "But we picked this up about a week ago. It took our techs three days to piece together the jumbled signal to realize what it was." Nugra watched the string of symbols scrawl across the lower portion of the screen and to his astonishment, he recognized them. "That's a Starfleet IFF frequency." "It is. We had the Guardian's Errant pull the information and it's the USS Constantinople-A, Federation Constitution Class Refit circa 2271s. Under the command of Captain Daphne Pierce. Federation historical records show the vessel went missing in 2274 in the Baretz pass.” "Have you informed Starfleet?" Nugra asked. "No." Hrrsh answered with a finality that caught the younger Gorn off guard. "Why?" "I have an old Federation vessel clear on the opposite side of Gorn space which we have never seen before. I don’t know what we have.” "That's where I come in." "Correct. We are going to have to tell them if the ship is actually there and it will be better with an ex-Starfleet officer was the one investigating." "What is my assignment?" "Senior Commander Tk'Lnn Vss'Kov of the GSN Gorn Talon-A is in charge of the mission and will be heading to the Meeriso sector to see if they can locate the signal." "When do I leave?" "Immediately. Vss'Kov is waiting for you right now." *** The shuttle jolted hard as a wave of energy from the neutron star of the Holdath System made it past the stellar body that they were using as a shield. The jerk through the occupants around though their harnesses kept them in place. "Who thought we would also have a ride?" Burrk chortled from his seat. The massive reptile rattled his metal harness causing Eeska to shake her head in irritation. "I keep hoping something will take you out, you big oaf," she said with a mocking laugh. "Nothing is big enough to take out, Burrk." Nugra was of the opinion to agree. "What's the SOP, Senior Commander?" Ak'Lar asked. "Breach and then search pattern," Nugra said as another wave, just not as strong, rocked the ship. "I doubt anyone is alive by this time but we need to take steps to secure and make sure. Who knows what could have taken up residence all these years." Nugra had enough experience with alien life forms to not take anything for granted. It was easy to die in the void. "There it is!" the pilot called and Nugra tapped the screen on his harness to allow the view of the pilot to be seen. The side of the planet was dark but with massive canyons and mountains. Standing out with it's white hull and wedged between two giant mountains was the saucer section of the distinctive Federation design. "Land on the surface of it. We'll cut our way in," Nugra said. It took about 30 minutes before the team was able to breach the hull. Fitting their helmets on and activating the armor they wore, Nugra went first followed by Eeska, Burrk, and Ak'Lar last. Nugra dropped to the corridor below and moved forward before dropping to a crouch. The corridor and red carpet stretch before them though the hall was only illuminated by his helmet's head lamp. "Clear," Nugra said as the others took up formation beside them. "We'll make our way to the bridge. Look for Jefferies Tubes marked Primary service. Anything else will be too small for our kind," Nugra warned. It was Ak'Lar that spotted Service Tube 2-B which told him that he had access to the bridge. The hatch need breached as the ship was so old, it didn't connect to their external power packs to remote charge the computers. Burrk led the way to breach the top tube and they all soon found themselves in the circular bridge of the Federation starship. The bridge was empty though there was a layer of dust that showed it had not been visited in a number of years. Nugra strode forward and found the tattered remains of a Federation uniform among the last few bones that had not disintegrated. "It appears the ship's captain died in her seat," Nugra mused. He tapped the computer panel on the armchair and it did not respond. It was not like he had expected it to. "Ak'Lar, There should be a power junction under the communications panel," Nugra said pointing to it. "See if you can get it to interface with our power systems. We need to pull the ship's logs." "On it, Senior Commander." "Bring back memories?" Eeska asked as she stood beside him, weapon slung at ease in front of her. "Yes," Nugra said with a nod. She was one of the few she trusted especially since she had started the conversation on their side channel. "I cannot imagine how you could have stood it, Nugra," she said looking at the blank screen too. "Not only is the design alien but to have so many around that were not like me would have been really lonely." "It was for a time," Nugra said with a sigh. "But I had a good captain when transferred looking for my brother and a good crew. Tafaz, Heath Story, Captain Hurne. They are the reasons that I did not return to the Gorn Hegemony until the call of the Princess." Eeska nodded. "Do you plan to go back?" "I don't know," Nugra said with a shrug. A distinctive human trait he had learned. "My career dead ended there after I stepped down from the USS Victory. The Civil War, the loss of my friends...when I went back, I could not get myself to fit in even though I had a lot of friends that I called comrades. I went from being on the front lines to a Captain regulated to administrative work. I...I just couldn't be happy." "Have you been happy being back?" That was a good question. He was on the front lines and fighting for a cause but there were even less familiar faces here. "Senior Commander! I think I got it to work." Nugra turned to look at Ak'lar as one of the computer panels lit up. "You haven't escaped my question, Senior Commander," Eeska snarked at him. Nugra walked over to the panel and quickly tapped in a few commands that came back to him. Command directives had not changed for years; his old command codes would work to access the ship's log and download them. "There we go," Nugra said with a grin as his own tricorder beeped making the interface between the two computers. A copy of the data began to flow in while he began to sift through the writing. The visuals had been degraded and would take rebuilding but the text extracts were still present. "Looks like the Constantinople found an unstable wormhole," Nugra mused as he read through the terran standard he had practiced for years. "She crashed here when the neutron star ripped the lower section apart. Looks like the crew lived for about 25 years before...something happened." "Something happened?" Eeska said shifting her weapon. "I don't like the sound of that." It was at that point, Nugra saw that the data had become broken and the captain of the vessel had not kept up the log. There was a report of something on the ship and then one description jumped out at him. A cold chill went down his spine as he slammed his fist on the computer turning it off. "Everyone. Get your stuff. We are leaving now," Nugra ordered with no uncertainty. The description the captain provided of the assailant in her last logs, the fear it generated told him what he was dealing with. "Nugra to Gorn Talon, come in." "This is Vss'Kov. Go ahead." "Initiate Oblivion Protocol, Senior Commander. confirmed encounter aboard this ship." "Understood. Get out of there. You have five minutes before we're in position and have the plasma torpedoes overloaded." "What is going on!" Eeska shouted as Nugra began to yank out the cords and had Ak'lar wrap them up. "Buurka. Point Alpha. Eeska Point Bravo. If you see anything, no matter what it is, shoot to kill. I don't care what it looks like." To her credit, Eeska did not say anything as she sensed the extreme urgency from her Senior Commander. As soon as they were ready, Nugra began the descent down the jefferies tube with his weapon unslung and facing down. He knew he had a chance thanks to his encounter with a Yeltan so many years earlier. As everyone else climbed down they began to move towards the exit point when he heard Buurk groan in fear. Nugra spun around to see his giant lizard looking down the hallway. Looking back was a pair of liquid black eyes attached to a grotesque body with multiple legs. It had a sadistic grin on its face showing the rows of serrated teeth. The Hunger was here. Nugra did not hesitate as he felt the fear field the creature emitted begin to touch him. The green plasma bolt struck and sizzled by the creature as it dodged. Nugra continued to fire as he pulled Burrk back, breaking his gaze with it. "MOVE. NOW!" "WHAT IS THAT?" Eeska shouted terrified. "Move to the shuttle!" Nugra continued as he continued to lay down fire keeping the quick creature back. "Gorn Talon to Nugra. ETA 3 minutes." his comm said. "Negative, Talon," Nugra hollared. "We've engaged it. We're 30 seconds to egress. Fire now!" There was silence but the Gorn knew Tk'Lnn wouldn't hesitate. Too much was at stake. It made sense now. The neutron star, the dead crew, the wormhole. Nugra had encountered the same wormhole when he was with the Duronis II Embassy. The creature would build a ship in the center of the neutron star and work towards letting it's armada in to consume the galaxy. It was the bright red beams shooting past him that he realized that his pilot had dropped auto turrets into the hallway having heard the conversation. Nugra kept firing as his away time climbed the net ladder back into the shuttle. Nugra hurried up himself and threw himself in as he felt the claws barely miss him. The Gorn slammed his fist on the button slamming the hatch shut. "GO NOW!" The shuttle detached and launched as two burning red giant balls of plasma passed them and connected with the hull of the starship. The rending explosion was silent but the shuttle took the brunt flipping and tumbling out of control. If it had not been for Tk'Lnn being ready with a tractor beam, they would have broken the horizon and been destroyed by the neutron star. *** Once they were sure nothing could have survived, the Gorn Talon left making its way back towards the fleet. Nugra stood in the briefing room with Tk'Lnn and Hrrsh on the screen. "Excellent work, Senior Commander," Hrrsh said a bit paler. "I know we have heard stories of some of them being in our galaxy but I never thought they were in our space." "It's good we found it and destroyed it," Nugra said angrily. "I've seen what they have done to another reality." "I also got your transfer request. Though I do not think it's a wise choice, I understand why you want to go back and deliver the files." Hrrsh said with a nod. "I'm seeing what type of work I can pull off for you." Nugra nodded as the screen died. He had requested to return to the Federation after his encounter with the Hunger again. They had become a dull memory to the point he had forgotten why he had been chasing them and what they were truly capable of. He couldn't defeat them here in the Gorn Hegemony but maybe in the Federation. He had a choice to make. Ignore the threat or go home and stop the threat once and for all. It was his choice to make. -END-
  31. 3 points
    "Hey, Eleanor." In Marisol's right hand, she jerked her hand up and down. The two slips of latinum clinked together in a beautiful melody against the small table next to her. Clink, clink, clink the latinum went as she twisted it around and around in her hand, the edges clinking against the top of the table. She sat, slumped, in her captain's chair, her dark black eyes staring into nothingness as the viewscreen showed a planet she hadn't seen in eons. She had chosen a white wig that was tied back with a clasp, but a strand stuck to her cheek, just in front of her right ear. She let out a huff, her dark eyes flicking away from the viewscreen. "You know I've always hated that name, idiot." A laugh echoed around her in the bridge, dark and silent except for their voices. "Yeah. You went through a phase with your middle name, right? Cor-" "Don't say that name," her hand stopped for a moment, her eyes slipping shut as she took in a slow breath, then opened again. "Just don't. I don't have the temper, nor the time, to deal with you." "No time for your favorite big brother?" the voice teased, and her left hand swung from where it dangled over the armrest, resting her cheek against her fist with a click of her tongue, licking her dry lips. "You're my only brother, dummy." She paused. "...and you're dead." "Yeah, well." If he was here, she knew he would shrug and do that stupid grin of his that always, always irritated her. It was boastful, gloating, deceitful. Girls his age would giggle and sigh when he flashed that grin, but oh how they were just so very disappointed when he moved on to bigger and better things. Like he always did. Like he had always done. Which, of course, led to his demise. She shifted, grunting as she leaned further on her hand, her eyes fluttering shut again. "What do you want?" she asked wearily to the empty bridge. She was going out of her mind, that's what it was. That happened sometimes, later in life, to Betazoids. Or. So she believed. She didn't want to think otherwise. Perhaps her telepathy was finally attempting to eat away at the lobes of her brain in an effort to self-destruct. That seemed less absurd than the rest of the...everything...going on. "You think I'm only a figment of your imagination," he begun, and she really did not want to go down whatever path he was going. "So I mean, why not chat a bit? Take some comfort in it. Maybe I'm a spirit sent back from Karawati to help you along the way." Marisol snorted, coughing as she covered her mouth before shaking her head, letting her arm lay limply at her side. "I've never believed in that hogwash. Peace and love and on and on until you die pitiful and alone because that's what life is really like." "The pirate life really did you no favors, you know." Marisol peeked an eye open. The planet in front of her grew ever larger the closer they came to it. It rotated in place slowly, and she could see a storm building up over a large body of water. Pity. She had ever so hoped to experience rain on her face one last time. Her hand weakly lifted up, pale fingers skating over her own cheek. "Is this what the afterlife is like, then? Waiting on my ship to crash into my homeworld?" She let out a sharp laugh, coughing harder as her head slumped forward, wheezing slowly. "Truly a fate befitting of my actions these past years. What say you, brother?" "I dunno. Always thought you'd die in a shoot-out. Would have been more...dramatic, that way." His laugh, deep baritone, rumbled through the bridge. It was like she could see him, in her mind's eye, standing in front of her with his arms crossed. He smiled often, but his face always acted like it never knew what to do about it. A permanent resting brooding face. "But ah. Here you are. Ship malfunction. Just a stars-forsaken warp drive malfunction, that's all it is, wasn't it?" Marisol blinked slowly, feeling the want to just lay back and fall asleep. But that would be rude to her guest, wouldn't it? Yes. Just a warp drive malfunction. Something that sometimes just happened, something they thought they could fix. But, no. It took out half her ship. And when the...incident happened, she forced her crew to depart in what little escape shuttles they had. There was no escape for her, she thought, looking down slowly. The large piece of metal pinning her to the seat took care of that. This felt like some ironic fate. Just as he said, she often thought she’d be shot in the streets after a deal gone awry, not this…slow and…almost boring event. Her left hand trembled as she brought it up to sweep the white strand of hair from her right cheek, then let it collapse around her, the energy just not there any longer to keep her extremities moving. “What kind of story will they tell, I wonder,” she murmured, her eyes finally sliding shut as she smiled. “Despite everything, I’ll fade into obscurity as so many have done. What an end to a story.” ”It’s not a very satisfying end, no,” he agreed, the viewscreen flicking a bit before stabilizing into the, what she knew to be, hologram of Betazed. “In fact, if I read a holo-novel leading up to this, I’d sooner curse out the author for killing my favorite character.” She sputtered out a laugh, shaking her head, the white wig slipping a bit. “I was your favorite? How charming, how bold. How naive. You’ve always been that way.” She sighed, smacking her dry lips together, and it echoed loudly followed by creaks of the ship and pops of snapped wires trying to get energy from one to another. “Perhaps you could tell me a different story.” “A story?” His voice carried amusement in it, but not the teasing type, no. She couldn’t place her finger on it, actually, but she felt that, at this time, she shouldn’t have to. “Sure, why not. What kind? You know I’ve always been able to make up some pretty good ones,” he joked. Yes, like the time he’d managed to convince a traveling group of entertainers that he was a juggler, and managed to hitch a free ride across three planets before they found out he didn’t know what juggling was. She sighed, relaxing back in the chair as the ship started to rumble around her threateningly. “Give me…a different story. One with…a good end.” There was a beat, then two, and she figured he’d finally wised up and left before she heard: “On board the USS Gorkon, the new counselor, Corliss, is roughly awakened from an unnatural sleep…”
  32. 3 points
    Snapping awake with a painful groan, Lt. Cmdr. Geoffrey Teller tried to re-orientate himself inside the darkened runabout. With no internal illumination and only faint starlight filtering through the viewports, the scene slowly resolved as he tried, and failed, to stand. The runabouts emergency restraints had engaged at some point and, he realized as a loose padd drifted past in zero g and clattered against a dead console, were the only things keeping him from floating freely around the cabin. Something had gone terribly wrong. With a deep breath of air that was already tasting stale, Geoff tried to clear his throat but ended up setting off a series of wracking coughs. “Report...Tomlinson...J’shon…” his words came out as a rasp and elicited no answer. After a few moments, it became clear why. Both officers, strapped to their chairs and still at their stations, weren’t moving. From where he was, Teller couldn’t tell if they were unconscious or...something worse. “Oh, Geoffrey. Did you hurt yourself playing again?” A woman's warm, lilting voice seemed to fill the cabin. Teller’s eyes went wide as they focused on the impossible sight on the viewscreen. Too shocked to be afraid and too confused for anything cogent, he only managed to croak out a single word. “M...mom?” For a moment, he was again seven years old, having skinned his knee after failing to climb the large oak tree near their home. It had been a childish bet with his older sister, whose longer limbs and superior coordination meant she had been climbing the tree successfully for several years already. Never one to back down from a challenge, even at that age, Geoff had made it halfway up before losing his grip and sliding back down, painfully scraping his skin. His mother had been watching the proceedings from a nearby picnic blanket and had rushed over with kind words and a small civilian dermal regenerator. That had been more than twenty years ago, before he’d joined Starfleet, and before his parents had been lost. Somehow, that thought helped ground his thinking. The face on the screen remained placid and calm, the picture of maternal compassion. “But...you died. Years ago….your ship…” He was cut off by a very familiar and very maternal clucking. “Oh, don’t worry yourself about that, Geoffy,” The voice, and the face, were perfect. Every inflection, every mannerism, even the way she brushed her hair to one side were exactly as his mother, June, had behaved. “I’m here now, don’t worry, everything is going to be alright.” Teller felt himself slump back in the runabouts chair as globes of moisture floated away from his eyes. Nothing about this made sense and, in the back of his mind, Geoff began giving serious consideration to the possibility that he was critically injured and just imagining the whole thing. He tried to turn his attention back to the inert console in front of him. There had to be a way to get some power back on. After several failed attempts to bring systems online, Teller thumped his fist against the uncaring composite as the voice gently chided him. “Geoffrey, what did I tell you about letting your frustrations distract you?” His mother had crossed her arms and pursed her lips. She was clearly expecting him to respond. “You’re not real...you’re not real...this is just some kind of...weird brain injury...I need to get back to the ship…” Teller tried to ignore the voice as he struggled with the seat restraints. “Oh, Geoffy, I wouldn’t do….” The warning came a moment too late as he successfully released the restraints and was nearly catapulted into the ceiling. He flailed without purchase for a few moments before colliding with the roof of the cabin. “...that.” “Well if I didn’t have a head wound before…” Teller rubbed his skull and inspected the cabin as his mother's face looked on, concerned. Finding a grip, he rotated and pushed off towards the inert form of Lt. Tomlinson, their helmsman. Without a tricorder he couldn’t tell much, but at least she was still breathing. He pulled the emergency aid kit from beneath a console but found the equipment inside as inert as the rest of the runabout. Whatever hit them seemed to have a devastating effect on all their technology. Geoff spoke aloud, mostly so he could hear something other than his own breathing in the increasingly claustrophobic interior. “That’s alright, Tomlinson...you just take it easy...I’ll get us sorted….That’s a Good Job Guarantee…” Geoff tried to work some hope or vigor into his voice but found it lacked for both. His assurance didn’t impress his other audience either. “Are you still using that ridiculous catchphrase, Geoffrey?” With a smirk, his mother seemed to be needling him slightly, as she so often did when she was alive. Teller ground his teeth in irritation. “Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but if you can help, now’s the time. I’ve got two injured crewmen here. I’m not sure how long we were out, but the air recyclers aren’t running and what’s in the compartment won’t last. If you can’t help, kindly shut up and go haunt someone else, I’m busy.” “Geoffrey John Teller, that is no way to speak to your mother!” The image on the screen looked genuinely hurt and, on some emotional level, Teller felt a very real pang of guilt. He turned, sheepishly, to face it. “Uh...sorry…it’s just...I’m not sure what to do right now. I’m not sure what you want...hell, I’m not even sure any of this is real. For all I know, you could be a symptom of hypoxia and I’m just blathering to myself in a broken ship.” Oddly, this admission actually helped Teller calm his racing mind slightly. On screen, his mother was the very picture of maternal concern. “It’s alright, Geoffrey, it’s alright. I’m here for the same reason as always - my son needed me. Now,” the woman clapped her hands before interlacing her fingers and cracking her knuckles loudly, a habit that had always turned young Teller’s stomach, “you, young man, have to start thinking. I bet you can find something in that spaceship of yours to take apart. Just like you took apart everything in the house. Hopefully this time there won’t be as many parts left over when you put it back together.” Geoff was again transported back to childhood, sitting on a kitchen stool and being scolded by his mother for his antics while behind her, his father painstakingly reassembled the home replicator while trying not to grin too openly. “The replicator…” With a flash of inspiration, Teller pushed off the console and floated towards the runabouts small replicator. Like everything else aboard the system was dormant, but Teller was unconcerned. The model on the runabout had a small shielded power cell for emergencies, and while it seemed like the rest of the system's delicate electronics had been destroyed, the power cell itself appeared intact. There was no external indicator and no way to check the remaining charge but it was something. He hoped. “Oh, and what do you intend to do with that, Geoffrey?” By the gentle, suggestive tone in her voice, Teller realized it wasn’t really a question. It was as if an infant had just brought her a light pen, and she was encouraging them to find something to draw upon. There was something obvious he was missing, and his head was beginning to throb. The cabin's air was growing worryingly thin as he exerted himself. He considered the questionable power cell, and the small metal tube he was trapped inside. There were dozens of redundancies, backups, failsafes and emergency systems, but somehow nearly all of them had been rendered useless by this calamity. He wasn’t going to repair the ship with what he had on hand...or with the time he had left. “Remember, Geoffrey, it’s always ok to ask for help when you need it.” Once again, his mother seemed to be prompting him, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate. The cabin, already darkened, was growing more clouded by the minute. Tugging at the collar of his uniform tunic, his hand brushed against his comm badge and the edge of an idea pushed in against the haze. Removing the communicator from his tunic and disassembling it with shaking hands, Teller could see that whatever had damaged the ship had wrought its destruction on the fragile components inside the communicator. The only element that still seemed intact was the micro-crystalline subspace antenna, a hearty mesh fused with the outer casing of the communicator itself. “That’s my clever boy...but you’ll have to hurry. We don’t have much time left.” There was an unmistakable tone of urgency in her voice and, as the air continued to sour, Teller was certain why. At best he had minutes until he blacked out. Teller let the useless bits of the comm badge drift away in the cabin as he gripped the precious antenna in his teeth. He needed both hands to pry the end cap off his reclaimed power cell, leaving only the exposed power leads. If he was quick, he could tap the housing with the antenna against the leads without destroying it, giving him a brief and very weak subspace pulse. On his first attempt, he forgot the basics of electricity and shocked himself badly, eliciting a loud and colorful expletive. “Geoffrey, language! You’d think I raised a klingon with that mouth of yours!” His mother's chastisement was entirely genuine and he felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Sorry mom.” He no longer cared who or what was on the screen, too fixated on what he was doing to give it another moment's thought. Pulling off his uniform jacket, he wrapped the sleeve around his hand several times to provide whatever insulation it could, and then began laboriously tapping the comm badge against the leads. He could see a small electrical arc lighting up the cabin, which gave him some hope that his call was going out. Short Tap short tap short tap….oO Please hear me. Oo Long Tap. Long Tap. Long Tap. oO I need help. Oo Short Tap short tap short tap...oO Or we’re so screwed. Oo “See Geoffrey, I told you everything would be alright. Now just you rest for a bit and when you wake up, I promise everything will be ok.” The voice was dreamy and far away, but Geoff felt reassured and calmed, as he always had when his mother tucked him in. She began gently humming a wordless lullaby from the furthest corners of his memory, filling his chest with warmth even as the rest of him grew cold. His eyes grew heavier and heavier. His hands still worked, continuing the sequence of taps against the leads, not even noticing the electrical arcs had all but disappeared. Eventually, his hands stopped and his eyes closed, and Geoffrey Teller drifted towards the darkness, comfortably aloft on the sound of his mother's voice. === “Sir...sir! Sir are you alright? Commander Teller, sir, can you hear me?” Snapping awake with a painful groan, Lt. Cmdr. Geoffrey Teller tried to re-orientate himself, expecting to find the inside of a darkened runabout. Instead, he was nearly blinded by bright searchlights directed at him. His mind felt sluggish and confused, but he could fill his lungs again and the air had rarely tasted sweeter. “Mom…?” Squinting against the harsh light, Teller’s eyes were able to focus on the startled officer inside the environmental suit. It took him an overlong moment to work out that they were being rescued. It had worked. “He’s alive! They’re all alive, sir. Advise sickbay to standby for emergency transport.” As the officer passed along an update back to the Thor, Teller blinked and turned his attention back towards the view screen. It was blank and inert, like everything else aboard the runabout, but Teller could see the bits of communicator he had cannibalized floating nearby, bouncing harmlessly off the display. “God damn sir, I don’t know how you pulled this one off….we barely picked up your signal…” Teller blinked again and realized the lieutenant was speaking to him. A warm, kind voice echoed in his mind and he croaked out a response. “Language, Lieutenant.” Geoff smiled and closed his eyes once more before the transporter beam took hold and brought him home. The wordless lullaby went with him. [End] =============================== Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0
  33. 2 points
    Many officers approach Starfleet with high hopes and ambitious dreams. In some cases, these dreams include reaching the captain’s chair, or even the admiralty, a noble conclusion to a fine career of service and exploration. However, in some rare cases, Starfleet officers have gone beyond even these remarkable achievements, and have taken up positions in governance and civil service, or, as with Jonathan Archer, the presidency. It goes without saying that politics and civilian work do not appeal to all characters in our universe, or people in our world, and that acting as the president of a trillion individuals united under a single banner would be no easy feat. But someone must fill the role, and who better than an officer that has spent their life in the pursuit of the Federation’s ideals? How interested would YOUR character be in acting as President of the United Federation of Planets?
  34. 2 points
    I not only enjoyed reading them but judging them was an honor as well! Congratulations to @Geoffrey Teller for a well written sim and to @Pholin Duyzer for his stellar entry. All of the stories were great and everyone did a amazing job! Until next time!
  35. 2 points
    Congrats to all the writers - it was really hard to judge these! So glad to write along such talented people. Congrats to @Geoffrey Teller and @Pholin Duyzer!
  36. 2 points
    Resounding congratulations to Brian, the writer behind Geoffrey Teller, for smashing the Writing Challenge 2020 with a superb win! Not only the first entry the challenge received but also a beautifully written story “Lullaby” of an officer facing a difficult situation and a heartwarming encounter to leave a tear in the eye. This is the first Writing Challenge done since 2014, so this is a special congratulations extended to him! Matt, the writer behind Addison MacKenzie, had this to say about the piece: “I’ve served with Teller in various capacities for my entire length of service – as colleagues on the Veritas, as acting first officer on the Diligent, and now as senior officers on the Thor. In that time, I’ve gotten to know the Teller character quite intimately as well as his background – the presumed loss of his parents was initially a small detail to Brian, but it played a major role in one of our missions together on the Veritas when it was actually discovered that his father had survived. Getting to watch Teller work through that realization and then explain it to his sister Sarah (whom I wrote for) made for quite remarkable characterization. Now, in this piece of short writing, its interesting to see how Teller transformed into a wide-eyed, innocent projection of his childhood-self as he interacts with his mother. This piece was a compelling demonstration of the Teller’s humanity as we watch him confront [what he thinks is] his mother, their interactions and attempted reconciliation.” Our runner-up is Quinten, writer for Pholin Duyzer, recently returned to our community following a brief absence and scoops up this badge for his story “Time to Move On”, which sees the Denobulan officer return to his family home and battle through rough waters. A most excellent story and a compelling narrative glimpse into Pholin’s life at home and how his career has faired in between the time away. Well done, Quinten! All entries into the challenge were excellent, and each one deserves a slice of the praise! Thank you for submitting your entries, letting us into the worlds of your characters brought into the spotlight, and for giving us a glimpse of what goes on behind the characters we see. For the winner, runner-up and judges, they are in receipt of one of the following badges! Considering the wild success of this challenge, we plan to continue the tradition in yearly challenges. We look forward to more amazing entries next spring!
  37. 2 points
    Resounding congratulations to Brian, the writer behind Geoffrey Teller, for smashing the Writing Challenge 2020 with a superb win! Not only the first entry the challenge received but also a beautifully written story “Lullaby” of an officer facing a difficult situation and a heartwarming encounter to leave a tear in the eye. This is the first Writing Challenge done since 2014, so this is a special congratulations extended to him! Matt, the writer behind Addison MacKenzie, had this to say about the piece: “I’ve served with Teller in various capacities for my entire length of service – as colleagues on the Veritas, as acting first officer on the Diligent, and now as senior officers on the Thor. In that time, I’ve gotten to know the Teller character quite intimately as well as his background – the presumed loss of his parents was initially a small detail to Brian, but it played a major role in one of our missions together on the Veritas when it was actually discovered that his father had survived. Getting to watch Teller work through that realization and then explain it to his sister Sarah (whom I wrote for) made for quite remarkable characterization. Now, in this piece of short writing, its interesting to see how Teller transformed into a wide-eyed, innocent projection of his childhood-self as he interacts with his mother. This piece was a compelling demonstration of the Teller’s humanity as we watch him confront [what he thinks is] his mother, their interactions and attempted reconciliation.” Our runner-up is Quinten, writer for Pholin Duyzer, recently returned to our community following a brief absence and scoops up this badge for his story “Time to Move On”, which sees the Denobulan officer return to his family home and battle through rough waters. A most excellent story and a compelling narrative glimpse into Pholin’s life at home and how his career has faired in between the time away. Well done, Quinten! All entries into the challenge were excellent, and each one deserves a slice of the praise! Thank you for submitting your entries, letting us into the worlds of your characters brought into the spotlight, and for giving us a glimpse of what goes on behind the characters we see. For the winner, runner-up and judges, they are in receipt of one of the following badges! Considering the wild success of this challenge, we plan to continue the tradition in yearly challenges. We look forward to more amazing entries next spring! Please drop by the forums to offer these writers, and all our entrants, your congratulations! The post Winner of Writing Challenge 2020! appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  38. 2 points
    The Defiant almost got my vote simply for being in my favorite Trek, but I have to go with the Nova class. There's just something so sleek, beautiful, and noble about it.
  39. 2 points
    Defiant have an spacial place in my heart due it is the ship of my fav show. No logic behind it, it's DS9 and that's enough for me XD
  40. 2 points
    Welcome to the group! I think you'll find this place is a blast. Great organization, good people, and a lot of fun writing to be had!
  41. 2 points
    He hadn’t been back to his childhood home in six years, Pholin realized as he was walking through the blossoming fields of Denobula. It had been the day before he left for the academy, when he met his parents to say goodbye. He remembered the looks on their faces when he told them he’d be leaving for good. So much had changed since then… “I should never have left…”, he grumbled to himself, watching the gravel move underneath him. The planet’s three suns had just appeared from behind the clouds, casting their dawn shadows on the path to the residence. The relationship with his parents had always been shaky, but that day had been particularly bleak. Even though he’d been planning it for months, he’d barely told his parents he was about to leave. They’d always wanted him to continue the family tradition, never leaving the planet as they’d done for over ninety years. When he broke that tradition, as a young and naïve scientist, he’d scarred their relationship for life. On that day, he’d managed to disappoint them once more. Pholin had grown tired of life on Denobula and wanted to explore the galaxy like he did when he was younger. “And look how that turned out…”, he exclaimed into the emptiness around him. He’d missed the birth of his first grandson, he wasn’t there when his wife’s health declined, and he was thousands of light-years away from Federation space when he lost his mother and brother. Pholin felt like he’d turned into the person he hated most growing up, a person who was never there for his family, valuing his career more than his family. His father had been the captain of a submarine for over fifty years, exploring the vast depths of the Denobulan seas. His mother was the biologist on board, and his brother would later study to become its helmsman. It was anything but a part-time job. Pholin’s father especially would be away for months on end – leaving his children alone with his wives. He’d always hated his father for that. “Yet I ended up exactly like him…”, barked the Denobulan. Even though he’d never been close to his parents, Pholin shut down when he learnt there had been an accident on the submarine. His father, the captain, was the only one to escape the sinking ship alive. He lost his mother and his only brother. He’d just been promoted for the first time and started to dive into his work to deal with the pain. His career skyrocketed, while he barely sought therapy. He’d only opened up to a couple of friends but hadn’t shed any tears. He was always tired, always grumpy. He spent more and more time alone – working in his science lab. It wasn’t until the Columbia was decommissioned, that he seriously started to question his future. He more or less forced himself to go to therapy and moved back to his home planet to serve as Research Coordinator at the Miratha Research Centre. It was mostly a desk job, but it gave him some peace and quiet. “Ah, there you are…”, he mumbled with a sense of nostalgia. He looked up to see his parents’ home show up over the horizon, at the end of the lengthy trail. Enjoying the sight of the place he’d once called home, he couldn’t help turning his frown upside down. It wasn’t much more than a small cottage, with white walls and a thatched roof. The Denobulan approached the house, which seemed particularly messy for an abandoned home. Usually, his mother would tidy up the house before going on a mission – they had left the house last June before the accident, if he recalled correctly. He walked up the steps of the porch, seeing they hadn’t even bothered to clean up the dishes. A half-empty glass of Andorr-Loatac Ale was still on the wooden table. “Well, I didn’t come here to clean up after them…”, he said with a smirk on his face. Continuing his journey back to his childhood memories, he entered the abandoned house. He turned on the lights in the hallway and took off his shoes. Just because he hadn’t been back here in half a decade didn’t mean he could forget his manners, he thought. To his left was a gold-rimmed mirror, showing Pholin’s considerably… fuller body. It had grown into a small problem recently, having to replace his entire wardrobe for a larger size. Below the mirror stood a tiny hallway cabinet, which prominently featured one of his favourite childhood pictures. It showed him and his mum, on top of a nearby hill which had taken them three hours to climb. Pholin had been eleven years old for just over a week when his father took that, and he’d loved that picture ever since. It was just him and his mother hugging, their love so clear, nothing in their way. He missed her. A single tear managed to escape the Denobulan’s emotional defence systems. He knew continuing to explore his home would only trigger more memories, but there was something inside him with a raging need for nostalgia. He wasn’t quite sure why. Pholin opened the door to the living room. “…”, there were so many words he wanted to say, but not a single one escaped his mouth. “Pho! I’ve been waiting for you all day!”, she said, getting up and walking into the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink? The tea’s hot already!” He was left speechless, seeing his mum standing right in front of him with the classic Denobulan smile on her face. He blinked, but she was still there. “Oh, come on! Don’t be so shy, now.” The woman approached him, seeing his worry, and went in for a hug. Pholin stood there, frozen, unsure how to process what was going on. She smelled like his mum, she talked like his mum, and she hugged like his mum – although it had been a few decades since they’d last hugged. But… this couldn’t really be her, right? “You look so pale! Why don’t you sit down, sweetie?” She accompanied him to the sofa, where Pholin sat down with his head in his hands. Thousands of possibilities were zooming through his mind. She could be an alien; this could be a trap he walked into. She could have survived, without anyone knowing. She could be a hologram, set up to scare him. She could- “Have some tea, Pholin. I’m so happy to see you again!”, the woman said, chuckling. She sat down in her chair, which nobody was ever allowed to sit in when he was a little kid, and enjoyed her own cup of tea. Pholin was still not quite sure where to begin, but he picked up the cup of tea from the table and took a sip. It was real tea, burning his tongue a little. He looked around the room, seeing some of his favourite childhood toys around him. His teddy bear was still leaning onto the potted plant, where he would always put it when he went to school so it could enjoy the view while he was gone. The painting he’d made in first grade was still hanging on the wall, even though it was excruciatingly hard to look at. It was supposed to represent his family, but they were nothing more than stick figures. He’d always wondered why they’d kept it up there. He looked back to his mother, looking deeply into her eyes, his own eyes tearing up. “Wha-, why, how-”, he tried to speak. “Oh, my darling, you’re a scientist! You must know you’re dreaming, right?”, asked his mother in a worried tone. He did not. Even though he’d been processing their loss for over a year, he’d never actually dreamt of them- except when he’d gone into hibernation in the middle of a mission, when he had experienced the accident on the submarine himself. He hadn’t ever spoken to his mother in a dream. “So, you’re actually… dead?”, he said now having no control anymore over the tears flowing out of his eyes. She nodded, with an understanding face, before getting up to comfort her son. She sat down on the sofa next to him and put her arm around him. Pholin felt like a child once more, crying in his mother’s arms. He let it all out. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, mum. I should’ve been there!”, he said with a raised tone. “Don’t you dare speak like that, Pholin!”, she looked into his eyes. “It’s not your fault. There was nothing you could’ve done, Pholin.” Of course, she was right, rationally. Even if Pholin had stayed to work on Denobula, he would’ve never set foot on that submarine. He’d always been afraid of the ocean, he never even dared swimming in it, let alone study the bottom of the sea in it. He could’ve never stopped the accident from happening. But his cries were not rational. “But… I abandoned you!” cried the Denobulan turned baby. His mother sighed, “Darling, you only did what your father and I never dared to do. You chased your dreams!”. She chuckled. “Do you really think I liked exploring the exact same chuck of sea for years on end?” “Why’d you do it then? You must’ve spent decades down there!”, Pholin said. “Because I never wanted things to change. I never dared to dream. Son, the step you took to enrol in Starfleet took courage, courage I never had. You should be proud of that.” Even though he knew his mother was nothing more than the figment of his imagination, it felt like a massive relief to hear her say that. He had experienced guilt like never before, and there she was, saying it was alright. “But-”, he managed to get out before being interrupted. “I wasn’t done yet, sweetie.”, she eyed him. “What you’re doing right now, isn’t helping you at all. You shouldn’t be doing this to yourself anymore.” He rubbed his nose, sniffling. Pholin didn’t agree with her – himself? – at all. He had gone home to relax, to take some time off while dealing with his loss. He wanted peace and quiet. His job was inside his comfort zone, something he knew how to deal with on a daily basis. The base’s commander wouldn’t suddenly be kidnapped, and they wouldn’t be led into some trap by space kittens. There were no mysteries, only endless tranquility. He was just filing regular reports about geological findings other people were doing for him, with two feet on his desk in his office while doing it. “Your job is exactly the same as before you left! The one you fled from! The only thing that’s changed is your uniform while doing it.”, his mum continued. “But I was stressed out, mum! I literally passed out in the middle of a mission because I couldn’t sleep at night!”, he responded. “Now don’t get me wrong, darling, you definitely needed some time off. But it’s been seven months…” Pholin hadn’t realised it had been that long… He’d been posted to the Research Centre for a third of his total time in Starfleet, yet it felt like nothing interesting had happened at all. The only exciting thing that had happened was his husband’s promotion, to Petty Officer First Grade, on his birthday. In just one year, he had climbed his way up to be the First Officer of his maiden ship, and in six months, all he had done was sit behind his desk all day. Maybe, just maybe, she was right. “Tell me, Pholin. What did you like more? Being promoted to Executive Officer on the Columbia, thousands of light-years away from Federation space? Or literally watching paint dry on your office walls?”, she asked rhetorically, trying to soothe him with a smile on her face. Pholin chuckled and wiped his tears away. He couldn’t believe he was just having an argument with himself – and was losing it too. “A part of dealing with loss, Pho, is moving on. I think it’s time for you to move on.”
  42. 2 points
    I'm re-reading some stuff for a SIM and this peal from @Quen Deena has come again: I know this has been praised in discord but it make me chuckle every time. Good job here
  43. 2 points
    Each month, we interview a captain or first officer of the fleet to gain more insight on what it takes to command a ship and learn more about how each of these staff members found their way into these roles. This month, we’re interviewing Fleet Captain Aron Kells, the CO of the USS Thor, one of two support ships from the Embassy of Duronis II. The crew of the Embassy has transitioned permanently to the Thor and embarked on a new mission. GALVEN: Thank you for agreeing to take a moment and be interviewed! Could you tell us a little about yourself for our readers out there? KELLS: Sure! My name is Tony, which I use primarily in part because I’ve used half a dozen different characters as PCs since I first joined the fleet back in 2005. Kells is probably the character I’ve simmed for most often, which is one of the reasons I chose him for command this time (but more on that later). A fun fact about me is that I joined 118 when I was still in high school and I’ve just recently finished my PhD, so the group has seen me through my entire higher education journey. You just recently took command of the USS Thor. With your previous command service record, has it been a smooth transition process? Very much so. My first regular command was of the Mercury, almost exactly eight years ago, and that was a more difficult situation. The original CO retired only four months after launching the ship, and his replacement lasted less than a week before he had to take an emergency, long-term LOA. The Mercury’s XO was a real trooper and was a great help to me when I came on as CO, and I knew when I found out what a force Brian (Lt. Cmdr. Teller, the Embassy’s and now the Thor’s XO) had been in helping to keep things together, I knew that the work he and the other great staff members had started put me in a really strong place to come in and help the Embassy crew move to Thor. With such a decorated service record. where and what kind of places do you turn to with that kind of dedication and contribution to 118? I like Trek a lot, first, and that’s part of my persistence. It’s such a rich universe, and there are always more stories to tell. That said, I read and watch very widely, partially just as a lover of sff (science fiction & fantasy) and partially because I co-host a podcast, The Imaginaries, that looks at contemporary sff from a queer perspective. Blatant self-promotion: https://www.imaginaries.net/ Out of the number of years you’ve been with the fleet, is there a specific time that stands out the most for you that’s memorable? I was very, very lucky in that I managed to attract a group of dedicated, devoted simmers, many of whom are still around. Of those, several went on to commands themselves, which makes me very proud. In general, though, I’d say the years that I spent commanding the power trio of Mercury-Garuda-Invicta are some of my very best memories of the fleet. I know that’s a big span, but it was all pretty good. Before you wrote for Aron Kells, you had another character named Niccolo del Vedova. What made you decide to use Kells rather than del Vedova to command the USS Thor? That’s a great question. I do think that I will switch to Nic del Vedova, or Del, as a CO sometime in the future — but I expect that to be more than a year hence, probably. I did consider which character to use as my CO character carefully, and I ended up choosing Kells due to a combination of familiarity (both to me and the fleet), experience (IC and OOC), and story. Del will get there! What kind of advice would you give new and even current members of the fleet? Surround yourself with people who are smarter and more talented than you. Seriously, part of the reason that I remember those Mercury-Garuda-Invicta years so fondly is that I was surrounded by just that caliber of folks. Rich (aka Flt. Capt. Rahman) blew me away from the start, but there are plenty of people who are still around (Mandy, aka Lt. Cmdr. Moonsong — Sarah, aka Cmdr. Saveron — and many, many others) who are just some of the most amazing people. Thank you for your time, Fleet Captain Aron Kells! You can read more about Fleet Captain Aron Kells on the wiki. The post Captain’s Corner: Fleet Captain Aron Kells, USS Thor appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  44. 2 points
    because, yes, we *do* all want to see this beatdown
  45. 2 points
    ((OOC: I really enjoyed the XO's impassioned plea to Lt. Waters, as she continues her transformative journey. Kudos to both of you for a moving interaction. Simple, but effective.)) ((IC)) ((Deck 1, Bridge, USS Eagle)) Waters: The Juneau is, by all appearances, larger, and superior to the Eagle. As Shayne settled into his seat, admiring the ridged contours it featured, he beheld his new home on the viewscreen. From here, she was even more imposing; enormous in comparison to their beloved garden spade, angular and slick and bristling dangerously. Shayne: She’s a beast. He spoke low, admiring her from a distance. She’d have to be tamed, and her kinks worked out, before she could safely be operated. He hadn’t the luxury of showing fear aboard her, but from this distance, he could respect her properly. Dear god, what had he gotten himself into? Waters: She is not the Eagle. I may sit at this station still, but it will not be... this. It is only recently I have begun to realize... this is my home. Now we are... I am, leaving her. Opportunities of many varieties have been squandered. This time... cannot be regained, and I am uncertain how to say goodbye to a home I only realized I lived in recently. Shayne leaned forward, fire in his eyes. Shayne: Hold that realization close! Don’t let it go. Let the pain brand you. Understand what you’ve missed, and realize how you can keep from doing it again. Waters: Response He stood, now impassioned but speaking quietly. Shayne: The crew makes the ship- and most of the crew is moving with you! New home or not, new world or not, you’ve got the chance to make this right. Claim it! I know you can. You have come so far! The words were infused with pride and a frustration Shayne did not mean to include but couldn’t avoid. Waters: Response Tag/TBC… Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne First Officer USS Juneau NX- 99801 G239202RS0
  46. 2 points
    Did you say caffeinated beverages? Sign me up!
  47. 2 points
    Serala sat in the First Officer’s chair staring at the viewscreen. The Captain was off somewhere and she had been left in charge today. The shift was turning out to be fairly routine, and to her mind, boring. She found herself hoping for a little excitement today, but she really should have heeded that old adage: “Be careful what you wish for.” Several weeks ago, Serala had experienced what she was still calling Hell Week. An ironic nickname considering that Serala had no religious beliefs of her own, outside of a regard for The Elements. The only good thing to come out of that week had been the birth of her beautiful daughter, T’Saara. But other than that one wonderful event, she had experienced crashing into a frozen wilderness and being stranded with government sanctioned assassins hunting her and the other survivors; the rather brutal death of her husband which she had felt through their shared telepathic bond; and the rather unexpected return of her deceased father from the grave after nearly thirty years. Two weeks later, the Captain promoted her to First Officer. Life was just starting to settle down, and here she was wishing for more excitement. Suddenly, the viewscreen began to shimmer and the stars faded out to be replaced by the image of her husband’s face. He looked straight at her and began to speak. “Serala. What are you doing, e’lev? Why have you not taken me to Vulcan?” Not sure that what she was seeing was real, and confused by the question since she had sent his body home, she hesitated briefly before answering. “But how are you here? And what do you mean? I sent you home?” “But, e’lev, I do not live in my body. I am in you. My katra is in you. You must take me back to Vulcan. To Mount Seleya.” “Stevok Deyhhan? What do you mean? How can your katra be with me? We were nowhere near each other when you died.” “My wife, we were bonded. We did not need to be together.” Of course! How could she have not realized that. Stevok had told her about katra and that they were usually transferred to someone if they could not get home. There, the katra was taken to their holy mountain, Mount Seleya, where the priestesses would store it. How that was all done was a mystery to Serala. She had always believed that physical contact was necessary for the katra to transfer to another, but the nature of their bond would have changed that. On their very first meeting, Stevok was in the early stages of his pon farr and had instinctively chosen her as his mate. Somewhere along the way, they had bonded telepathically. It was not uncommon for Vulcans to bond with their mates, but it was usually done in a ritual ceremony as so many things with Vulcans are. But occasionally, it could occur as an instinctive action on the part of one Vulcan partner or the other. Such had been the case with Stevok and her. Ever since that day, they had never been apart even when separated physically. “But I felt you die! I felt the bond sever. How is that possible if you were still with me? He smiled that knowing smile of his that often irritated her. Like he was sharing some private joke at her expense. “Yes, Serala. The bond was severed. My body was dead. But my katra needed a place to go, so I clung to that bond and was flung into you when the strand was severed. And I have been here since. I am just now recovering enough to be able to reach you again.” “Then I must take you home at once!” Stevok seemed to consider it for a moment before responding. “I have reconsidered this, ailhun. I can remain this way for years and I sense that you still need me. But when the time comes, I need you to promise me you will take me home.” “I promise, Stevok. On my Honor!” Anyone who knew Serala knew how much that honor meant to her. “But, how will I know when it is time.” “Another will come to take my place in your heart. You must let him. And when he does, then it will be time.” That was never going to happen. She was sure of that. But Stevok had said it with such certainty that she wondered. When she next spoke it was whispered, barely audible. She was making a solemn vow to the love of her life. “Jol-ao au deyhhan. There will never be another to take your place.” “E’lev, there must. You must continue to live, and love is a part of life. It is not logical for you to remain so. Grieve for me as you must, but do not refuse to live your life because of a memory. For that is all I can ever be for you now.” Serala doubted such a thing would ever happen. She had loved before, but none ever held her heart like he had and none ever would. Sensing her thoughts, he laughed that most wonderful laugh of his. “Of course, e’lev, none will ever hold your heart in the same way. For each, love will be different. But it does not mean it will be less. Only different.” She still doubted his words, but Stevok had always had a way of reaching that stubborn part of her that few could ever breach. So, she conceded the possibility, though she didn’t think it would be for years to come, if it ever did. “If such a time ever comes, e’lev, I swear on my Honor that I shall return you to Mount Seleya.” “Then I can ask nothing else of you, Serala. I wish that I could have remained for you and our child, but it was not meant to be so.” Tears began to creep into her eyes. More than anything, she wished he had lived to see his beautiful daughter. “I wish you had been here to see her, Stevok. She is so beautiful. And she has your eyes. I named her T’Saara after your grandmother.” “But Serala, I have just told you that I am with you. I have seen her and she is beautiful, just like her mother. And you will be a wonderful mother to her. I am so proud of you both.” She cried in earnest now, and part of her worried that the others on the bridge were witnessing this private moment. She did not want to be a spectacle for her crew. But the love she felt, and the loss, once more rose up to overwhelm her. She was so unsure of so many things. How was she going to raise a newborn and yet remain as First Officer on this ship? Yes, so many had stepped up to offer their assistance. She knew Little Bean was never going to be unloved or uncared for. But there was just so much even she could handle. And with Stevok gone…. She was feeling overwhelmed again. With love, with loss, with loneliness, with responsibility. She had friends, but Stevok had always been her confidant. The one she could turn to when she needed to talk, to work things out, or just to be vulnerable for a few minutes. “I am still here, e’lev. And I will not leave you until another has come to take that role from me. But you must let me go when that time comes. Live, Serala. Love.” The smiling face of Stevok vanished at that and Serala noticed that the others on the bridge seemed to not have realized anything had just happened. “I Swear It.”
  48. 2 points
    Your too amazing and kind. It was a pleasure to work with you on this set of sims @Romyana Casparian.
  49. 2 points
    Prison wasn’t so bad, Tillul mused. The worst part of it were his fellow prisoners; many of whom were uncouth, angry monsters. But then, they were all in for murder. Tillul had been here about a year, a long year of slowly acclimatising to incarceration, but he’d made what they laughably called his “accommodation” his own. He’d taken to carving small anatomical models of fauna from bits of wood and stone that he’d purloined from the yard during their daily exercise, and he used a small toolkit they’d allowed him from the workshop classes. He’d attempted to be a model prisoner, gaining the guards’ trust, or at least refraining from earning their ire. He sat on his bed, reading the PADD that was a standard prison issue. It contained a variety of Betazoid literature, and he was currently engrossed in the works of Toman Chaa, a romance novelist of little consequence, but whose writings were deemed of having no qualities that might arouse a prisoner to undesirable emotions (such as rage) or mount an escape. He ran a hand through his thinning steel hair as he read, a slight frown on his face. No matter how many of these he read, they didn’t get any better. He was about to throw the book at the wall in a bout of aggressive tedium when a voice shattered the quiet. "Hello, Tillul” Tillul jumped up with a start, his ageing frame showing surprising speed as he rushed to the cell door. There was nobody there. "Over here, love of mine” Tillul’s blood ran cold, the icy fingers of fear playing his spine like a human xylophone. He swallowed once as he turned around. There, on the viewscreen normally reserved for meetings with his lawyer or the warden, was Fumiko. Her almond eyes stared at him from not just across the room, but also across the heavens. She was supposed to be dead; she should be dead. He had pushed and she had fallen, and that was the truth. So how was she here? Tillul was a man of science, he knew there were no ghosts. It was possibly a mental trick, a faulty neuron firing the wrong impulses into his brain, or maybe a new delicious form of torture developed by the race of telepaths. The voice spoke again. "What’s the matter, targ got your tongue?” Tillul shivered as the syrup of her voice ran over his soul. This was impossible. His mouth was arid, as devoid of moisture as the desert wastes outside the prison. He opened his mouth to speak, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Y-y-y-you’re dead” he rasped, a stutter forming on his lips, a trait he had ironed out of his son with harsh words and tough love. Fumiko tipped her head back to laugh, a brutal mockery of the warm tinkle that he remembered as her expression of mirth. This laugh was cruel, and high and cold and turned his blood to iron in his veins. She turned her eyes to face his, her chilling blue gaze meeting his ebony eyes. The corners of her mouth twisted into a glacial expression of amusement. Tillul felt his knees go weak and he slowly slumped back down onto the bed. "Dead or not, I am here, aren’t I?” She blinked slowly, as Tillul hung on her every word. “My my Tillul, you did very well didn’t you? What, nearly thirty years of freedom after ending two lives in one fell stroke? An enviable achievement. And you would have got away with it too, if not for that son of yours. How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child, eh? After everything you did for him, and still he squeals on you like a pig, revealing your deepest darkest secrets. Sure, you suppressed his abilities, made him a cripple, what, two times over? But at least you were safe. Until you weren’t.” "It wasn’t like that,” Tillul hastened to interrupt her unstoppable train of thought. “It was for his benefit as much as mine” Fumiko scrunched up her face into an expression of extreme doubt and disbelief. In what felt an eon, she shook her head, maintaining eye contact the entire time. "You and I both know you only did it so he wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon your dirty laundry Tillul, and frankly it’s insulting that you would believe I could swallow that pill. I’m not one of your animals; I’ve seen the size of some of the things you gave them” Tillul’s face assumed a mask of purest, undiluted hatred. This woman, this stupid woman, had ruined his life twice over. First of all, she’d had the audacity to get pregnant, to make leaving her even more difficult than it was already. Then her death had come back to bite him in the rear, ruining his chance of a perfect family. Laxe had loved him, and his son had loved him, and then the revelation of one little secret had brought it all down like a house of cards. He pointed a short, bony finger at the face on the screen. "How dare you, how very dare you! You ruined my life! If it weren’t for you, I could still be happy. Still be free!” Fumiko’s face took on a patronising glare that needled into Tillul’s brain as she raised both her eyebrows at him. "I don’t remember forcing you to push me down those stairs. In fact I seem to remember feeling a jolt of shock before the sudden nothingness. So please don’t be blaming me for that, thank-you-very-much” Tillul’s eyes narrowed to thin slits through which his ebony eyes blazed. He considered throwing something through the viewscreen to gain himself a moment’s respite, but a feeling of some kind stayed his hand. Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was the unsaid knowledge that this wasn’t a physical manifestation and breaking the screen wouldn’t do diddly. Instead he rearranged his face into a softer look of contrition that was as false as his testimony on the stand. He’d tried to argue that it was an accident, that guilt had rewritten his memories to pin the blame on him, because he had felt so anguished at his inability to save her. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t fly. "I am sorry. I am sorry for what happened to you. I - “ She interrupted him before he could get any further. A red rose of rage blossomed in the pit of his stomach, but he clenched his jaw and stayed quiet. After all, he had all the time in the world. "You’re not sorry that I died, you’re sorry that you got caught. Please don’t insult my intelligence or my memory in saying that. You deserve this though, and you know it. You are a murderer, Tillul, a murderer of your wife and her unborn child. Every minute you serve here brings her another moment’s peace, you know that?” Tillul raised an eyebrow at the face on the screen, her calm, docile eyes boring into his, as the face took on a more neutral expression, one that made her look less like Fumiko and far blander. In fact she could now be anyone. If it even was a she - the features had become a nondescript androgynous humanoid face and it was that which scared Tillul most of all. The face winked once at him before disappearing with a soft ‘pop’ leaving Tillul alone on his prison cot, shivering with his penitence. Over the next few days, Tillul frequently noticed a slight tremor in his right hand, often getting more violent as the day progressed towards night, and sleep. He had not slept well since the visitation from Fumiko’s ghost, or whatever it was. At first he had believed it was a manifestation of one of the many deities, some of which were vengeful and some were just and it could have been any of these. However he had dismissed that summarily when he reasserted his atheism to himself strongly in the mirror. Gods and demons simply did not exist and even if they did, he was sure he would be beneath their notice when compared to the grand scale of the universe. So instead he started to think that it was a dream, or rather a nightmare, a mental ordeal of torment that had visited him when he was asleep. That had to be it, he assured himself as he tossed and turned in his bed. And yet the screen in the corner of the room glowed a little brighter when he wasn’t looking...
  50. 2 points
    My name is Lee Carroll. I'm near Charlotte, NC. I have done play-by-post fantasy RPGs for years and decided to I wanted to try playing in the Star Trek universe. After looking at numerous other Star Trek RPG sites, this one seemed to be the most well put together and most up to date. I liked the application process and the rapid response. I'm looking forward to participating.
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