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Showing content with the highest reputation on 02/18/2017 in all areas

  1. 2 points
    Anath G'Renn sat at a small table at 8x8, a cup of coffee sitting by her right hand. But the primary focus of her attention was the chess board set up on the table in front of her, the only thought in her mind being what her next move should be. The chess clock was running out, and the tellarite across the board was eagerly awaiting his next turn. The rook, that was the key. She picked up the metal piece and slid it into position, blocking off the last path of escape for her opponent's king. The tellarite knew he was beat, and tipped his king, having no way to stop what would no doubt be checkmate the next move. "A thoroughly enjoyable game, a rematch!" he said, already resetting the board. "I'm sorry, but I really should be making my way back to the holodeck. I don't think it would make a good impression if I got there late after boarding three hours early!" Anath replied, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder and pushing in her chair. The small ring of observers dispersed, and cleared a way for her to leave. "If you wind up getting stationed here full time, let me know whenever you want a rematch!" her opponent called out as she headed for the door. All Anath managed in reply was a short wave as she stepped out onto the streets of the Shi'Kahr district of the commercial level. After briefly consulting a map of the level, she turned away from the shop and set off to catch a turbolift. Visiting the game shop and playing a few rounds of chess was a fun diversion, but it wasn't the reason she was here. After four years and more than a bit of strife, Anath was finally ready for her training cruise. The journey had not been an easy one. Anath had only herself to blame for a lot of her troubles. Most of the problems she had came from her conflicting natures. Her mother was a vulcan scholar. Quiet, thoughtful, and always ready to play a nice game of chess. Her father on the other hand was a klingon field medic. He would often tell Anath stories of how his colleagues never accepted his decision to aid the wounded over face the enemy on the battlefield, a struggle she knew all too well. When some people saw her long, unkempt hair and distinctive forehead ridges, they expected her to act like a Klingon. Whether they realized it or not, they had certain expectations of what to expect just by her appearance. Not high on that list of expectations however, was medical student and chess master. Anath's klingon side didn't really take over unless she was really and truly angry, a state of mind she was in more frequently than she'd like. But the final stretch of training between her and a Starfleet commission was not a time to be angry. She managed to find the right turbolift, and straightened her uniform as the car rushed upward towards her destination. "Cadet cruise, it can't be that hard..." was the only thought that came to mind as the turbolift slowed to a stop.
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    Hello, new member here! Just thought I'd introduce myself. I prefer to just go by J, and as any of my friends could tell you, I am a proud nerd. I really enjoy talking about academics, science fiction, computers, philosophy, and pretty much any other subject imaginable. I live in north Texas, and graduated high school early, and decided to jump into college at a community college for a few semesters before applying to a larger university. I currently am and always have dreamed of a career in the sciences, barring space exploration (I'm deathly afraid of heights).
  7. 1 point
    I laughed a little too hard at that. just a bit
  8. 1 point
    ((Traenor's Personal Quarters - USS Constitution)) ::Another sound from beyond the door. Muffled footprints, muffled noises. This was a new room, in a new place, and Barque needed to be alert. Turning his head to the side, he listened closely until the sound disappeared from his senses, then he relaxed from his primary role as defender of his human's domain and focused on his secondary role. Chew the toys.:: ::His human had left again, and again promised that when he returned they would go to the Real-Room. Of course, his human liked to bark in funny yips, and it came out as Arboretum. Barque thought his human would have an easier time calling it Real-Room, since that's what it really was. Real-Room had real grass to roll in, real dirt to dig in, real trees and bushes to mark. His human preferred the Not-Real-Room, and all the Not-Real things behind those heavy doors. The only benefit to the Not-Real-Room was the Not-Real birds and Not-Real squirrels and the Not-Real rabbits, which were really really fun to chase even if they were Not-Real. His human had a funny yip for the Not-Real-Room too, a weird howl that sounded like Holodeck.:: ::Barque vaguely remembered when he was but a pup, there was something like the Not-Real-Room but had all the Real things like the Real-Room did. Real grass to chew, Real water to splash in, Real mice to sniff out. Ever since he had joined his human, he had lived in these metal rooms that were all the same but were not. The humans and not-humans, of which many liked to pet him and skritch his ears, were different in these metal rooms. His human called it Transfer To A New Ship. They had done this a couple times now, and Barque kept hoping they would Transfer To A New Ship with endless Real-Rooms like when he was a pup, but they hadn't yet. It didn't matter, his human needed him to defend his domain and that made Barque very happy.:: ::Barque jumped back up on the couch and looked out the window. He liked looking out the window, even thought it was night. Again. Every Transfer To A New Ship they lived in always was night, but that didn't matter. He liked watching the tiny sunbeams streak by. Although it would be nice to see a bird or a squirrel or a rabbit once in a while.:: ::Properly sated by the view, Barque hopped down from the couch and wandered over to the food bowl. He had gobbled down his breakfast as soon as his human had left, but it never hurt to check and make sure he didn't miss any. He hadn't. So he took a big draught of water from the adjacent bowl and moved off to the bedroom.:: ::His human liked to keep things untidy in here, and Barque appreciated it. He was certain his human did so just so Barque could amuse himself, snuffling through piles of clothes and rolling on his human's bed. Rolling on the sheets was almost as nice as rolling on grass. He longingly spied the chew toys that his human wore on his paws, which were called Boots. He was not allowed to chew on those chew toys, would be in big trouble if he did, which was a shame because Boots were so tasty. Instead, he found his bone and alternated between viciously chewing it and napping in the master's bed.:: ::Now, Barque found himself sitting before the door, waiting patiently and tail thumping against the floor. His instincts knew when his human would come home; he didn't understand how he knew, but he just did. He heard the sounds and sniffed the smells of other humans and not-humans passing beyond the door, but other than being alert against intruders, he was calm. He knew they were not his human, so he didn't jump up or yip or whine at their passing presence. He would save that adoration for his human. Or anyone else who would pat him or skritch his ears. Or give him a Cookie. Cookie was one of his favorite words, second only to Ball. Perhaps his human would bring him Cookies today. With this thought, the steady staccato of a thumping tail filled the Traenor residence again as its brave protector waited for his human to come home.:: Barque the Beagle Erstwhile Protector and Shredder of Shoes ~as simmed by~ LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor Scientific Specialist, USS Constitution
  9. 1 point
    Pran: No need to worry about me, I'm a walking weapon shop. :: grinning :: I've got more knives and disruptors on me than a Hirogen hunting party. No one messes with Pran...
  10. 1 point
    I SCREAMED with laughter when I read this. Fifty Shades Of Mirra!
  11. 1 point
    Is that why Flynn is sprinting to the bar?
  12. 1 point
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