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  1. Lt JG Serala: The Hunt ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Atlantis, NCC-74682, In Orbit around Lydor V)) Brell: Alright everyone, the hunt has begun. We aim not to destroy that ship but capture it and recover our people aboard. Dermont: response Serala: Au’e Riov! (Romulan: emphatic affirmative; Aye, Captain!) Brell: Take us out of orbit, signal The Observer, and our shuttle that we are leaving for awhile. :: Serala had forgotten again that she was supposed to be speaking Federation Standard, not Romulan; an old habit that sometimes reared its head when she was particularly excited or angry. Or, in this case, both. :: Serala: Au’e Riov! :: Sending the signal to The Observer, she turned her attention to her sensors, activation her subroutine and almost immediately getting a lock on the ship. :: Serala: I have them, Captain. Bearing 347 mark 065 mark 16. Range one-hundred thousand kilometers. Brell: Full impulse to that location! Gixu: Pulling from orbit, pursuit course laid in sir! Termine: Wait sir! Incoming transmission from Commander Tel-ar. Tel-ar: =/\= Cmdr. Tel-ar to the USS Atlantis. Emergency beam up authorized for Ensign Knight. Transport him directly to sickbay. =/\= oO Swell. And I was just starting to like that kid. Now he wants to go and pull a Raga on me! Oo Termine: I’ll need a few seconds to grab him captain, just one second! Brell: Take your time to do it right, but make it quick Ensign. Gixu: We’ve got to GO Dante, we’re going to loose them! ::The moments ticked by tensely. That ship with their chief Tactical/Security officer, and the their most senior Marine aboard it was slipping away, as was their ability to attempt to detect them.:: oO Come on! My dead ancestors could do it faster! Oo :: Not really, of course. Ensign Termine seemed to be quite capable at his job, but having smelled blood, she was like a shark ready to kill it’s prey. Of course, she couldn’t kill this prey. The Captain had already ordered them to take the ship, not destroy it. Still… :: Termine: Transport finished! Brell: Re-engage pursuit course. Gixu: You got it Captain! ::Soon they were open space and able to go to warp. Brell: Lieutenant Serala, focus your efforts on your cloak detection scheme. As well as be ready to target their engines. I know you will use a gentle touch to keep that thing in one piece but make sure they can’t go anywhere. Serala: Aye, sir! oO At least I said it in Federation Standard that time. Gentle touch, my rear. I guess if I must. Oo ::Pivoting to the Engineering station at the forward starboard side of the bridge near the doors to his ready room, Captain Brell next addressed the Chief Engineer. :: Brell: I need us ready to go to warp at moments notice, even if we are not yet in the stellar particle free corridor yet. Dermont: response ::Next he looked to the OPS station at the port rear of the the Bridge.:: Brell: Ensign, keep watch for the signal transponders of our away team members. We should be able to get a lock on them through the cloak that way as well. Between that, and Serala’s efforts we should be able to triaxlate their exact location and spatial alignment. oO Nice thinking. But, then that’s why he’s the Captain and You are still the Junior Tactical Officer. Oo Termine: Aye captain, ::Turning to Serala:: I’ll try to see if I can pick up a transponder lock from some long-range sweeps but if the ship is cloaked, it will be unlikely since most of the energy inside a cloak gets reflected back inwards but I think I just might have an idea. That just might do the trick. Serala: That would be extremely useful. What do you have in mind? Termine: :: walking over to join her at her console :: Well, remember the transmission from The Observer that I picked up earlier? If they’re still listening from that signal, we may be able to provoke a response from them. They’ll most likely disguise the carrier wave in the noise the same as the original. If we can pick it up we’ll be able to triangulate a rough place of origin and even may be able to find their cloak frequency based on the disturbances created then the signal passes through their cloak. Serala: That would be very helpful. Especially if they make it into that particle-free zone. My program loses all integrity if that happens. Termine: I’ll patch all my data through your console Lieutenant, and free up every joule of energy I can for the sweep, just let me know if you need anything. Serala: Make it happen, Ensign. I want this ship! :: As he walked back to his own station, she thought of the 27 lives lost when these robots attacked her ship Just a few short weeks ago. She had failed to detect the ship until it was just too late. That slip had cost those people their lives. She would not fail her ship and crew again. Nor would she let her best friend and Captain McKnight be captured during what was supposed to be a boarding action. :: Brell: I couldn't agree more Lieutenant. Gixu: Responses TAGS/TBC - Lt JG Serala, Security Officer USS Atlantis NCC-76482 A239412S10
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  3. All dressed up and ready for the awards ceremony!
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  4. MSPNPC Arch Captain Rrytarr - They want to start a Holy War! ((Beta Quadrant, Par'tha Expanse, Ranae Toxas System, Lydor V, Rrenkhetha, Docks, Tempest's Herald, Gangway)) Williams: Something like that?! :: he pointed at the city that was only a few hundred meters away but was suddenly covered in a large dust cloud:: What is going on in the city! :: Though they were well underway as the new arrival pointed out to the rest of them that something was wrong in the port they just left, Rrytarr cast his gaze back out at the holy city. Eyes widening as he saw dust clouds rising up from within the heart of it. :: Williams: Should we turn back captain? Rrytarr: No, our mission is to bring the truth of the Mother to others. The clergy within the city can tend to any wounded. And if it is they're time to join the Mother it is not our place to prevent it. Williams: I understand captain, but the people might need our help. Rrytarr: And there are those in Rrenkhetha who can aid them. Do I need to question my decision to bring you aboard Alik? ::Alex held up his arms, in acquiescence and Rrytarr accepted it.:: Williams: No need sir. I will follow your orders with the Mother as my witness! Rrytarr: Good. Now..let us all focus on...::Suddenly a disturbance in the city sent up even thicker clouds of dust, debris and from where they were the highest spires of the coral temple to the Mother began to crumble and fall to the ground:: Rrytarr: By the Mother! ::Tall waves began emanating from the massive island as the tremors expanded out beyond the landmass, kicking up the seas around their holy city. Seeing the temple suffer damage he stared, wide eyed at it. Did they do something wrong? Had the Mother become upset with them so much that she would destroy her own city? These questions and more raced through his mind as he watched several ships flee the docks that were breaking apart around them. Most capsizing from the high waves and turning over. But one sailed smoothly out of the turmoil. A vessel that brought a narrowed gaze from the Arch Captain. The Gub'kôj faithship was sailing out of the bay swiftly.:: oO We didn't do anything..it must have been those cursed Gub'kôji! Oo Rrytarr: Rurog! Bring us about hard! ::He pointed a webbed finger out towards the massive faithship still in the Bay of the Mother:: Rrytarr: Brothers and sisters, I do not know why our beloved city is being harmed. But I would bet my life that it is because of that! Gub'kôj has always been envious of the Mother...and now his infernal followers have attacked our holiest of cities. Williams/Sotak/Danara: responses Rrytarr: No Alik. We are not returning to the city. We're going to sink that accursed faithship! All hands, battle stations! ::The Arch Captain rushed up the steps to the helm, wresting it away from Rurog to guide their ship back towards the mouth of the Bay. His voice bellowing out far deeper than ever in his fanatical rage.:: Rrytarr: Ready harpoons and javelins! We're going to ram that ship! ::The Tempest's Herald titled from the hard turn but quickly came about and the sails caught the wind once more. Propelling the large copper clad ship back towards the mouth of the Bay. The slightly larger Gub'kôj faithship could clearly be seen now, its mass, pushing aside smaller wooden boats and rafts trying to escape the harbor. One was even crushed under its prow. Rrytarr turned the Herald so that it would be in position to ram into the starboard side of the other faithship the moment it came out of the harbor.:: Rrytarr: If the Gub'kôji want a holy war, they'll get one!! ((Tags/TBC)) ============================== MSPNPC Rrytarr Arch Captain of the Rrenkhethan Faithship, Tempest's Herald as humbly simmed by Lieutenant Toryn Raga Chief of Security and Tactical USS Atlantis NCC-74682 Writer ID: A239410TR0
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  5. Today, June 15, marks the 24th anniversary of our founding in 1994. That makes us older than Google, Star Trek Enterprise, and lots of our own members! Huge thanks to everyone who’s been a member over the years, helping to build this beloved community of friends, writers, and Star Trek fans. Click here to head to the forums to tell us what your favorite part of being a member has been. The post Happy 24th anniversary! appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
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  6. It's that time of the year! Put on your best formal wear in preparation for the Annual Awards ceremony. Here's Jarred in his dress whites. Unfortunately his red collared uniform is still at the tailor, so he's had to put on ol'yella.
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  7. Taking inspiration from an old holo-novel he secretly enjoys from time to time, Dermont replicated himself a classic tuxedo complete with bowtie. While personally dreading celebrations, he respects the Captain enough to represent the Atlantis properly and managed to trim his beard and mop of a head to be somewhat presentable. He does, however, still have a flask of black coffee flavored with tobacco tucked inside his jacket. These things can get boring and he might need a little pick-me-up.
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  8. ((Diplomatic suite - Two hours after the briefing)) ::Mirra had gone directly to the diplomatic suite, which consisted of several conference rooms, that happily doubled as dining rooms, and a very large sitting area. The walls were painted in warm, neutral tones. A bit of a change from the stark clinical set ups she was used to. Along with her research into the art of diplomacy, she also found a handy guide to menu suggestions...although the way it was written, she greatly hoped it wasn't outdated. "When hosting a bevy Klingon warriors for dinner, one paramount suggestion is to skip the doilies and fine china, these dainty decorations just won't do for the proud race of ridge heads- oO Wait...By the Gods...this says actually says ridgeheads...who wrote this?! Oo ::Skipping ahead:: "Consider the delectably distinguished dishes of the Gagh variety- "First up, you have the Bithool gagh, which have feet. Pungent and sure to give a kick." oO....There is more than one kind of Gagh...? Gods protect me...Oo "Followed closely by Filden gagh, which is squirmy and savory. Next, Meshta gagh, a grand party pleaser as this variety jumps around, often engaging the entire table to catch the dinner.- oO By the Four...it...jumps?! No. Not that one. Ever. Oo "The more common Torgud gagh variety just offers a pleasant wiggle, less likely to escape, and finally Wistan gagh, which has been marinating and packed in targ blood. oO That's it. I'm going to vomit. And make Theo handle the dinner...Oo. "If Gagh isn't your fancy, consider the savory and delicious Heart of Targ. A simple dish consisting of a fresh Targ heart resting on a bed of wilted greens." oO I can't do this. Oo ::She was moments away from finding the closest lavatory and swearing to never eat anything ever again when the familiar voice of Lt. Commander Shayne came across asking for her presence on the bridge.:: Ezo: ::slightly green:: Oh Shayne I could kiss you right now... ::Mirra set down the PADD, gingerly and backing away slowly if somehow these Klingon dishes would pop out of the screen and chase after her. With a final shudder, she exited the Diplomacy suite with only a small amount of relieved haste.:: ((Bridge - Deck 1 - USS Blackwell)) ((Moments later)) ::Mirra stepped onto the bridge, feeling a little less nauseated, and seemingly just in time.:: Whittaker: Very well then, let's not keep them waiting much longer. ::he moved to the rear of the bridge and stopped just as the turbolift doors opened, admitting Lieutenant Commander Ezo.:: Ah, Mirra- turns out you're going to be needed in the transporter room with me. Commander Shayne: have Counsellor Jolara meet us there- and you have the bridge. ::Shaking off the menu induced horror, she steeled herself and gave a confident nod:: Ezo: Of course Sir. Shayne: Aye, sir- I have the bridge. Whittaker: ::to Shayne again.:: We're about forty minutes from P-409 Sigma if I'm not mistaken. Begin our long range scans. ::to Pandorn.:: Mr. Pandorn- you can assist him but be ready to act in case our friends out there- ::he motioned to the image of the gik'tal on the viewscreen.:: -decide to liven up the party. Shayne: Very good, sir. Pandorn: Will do, sir. ::He starts to tap his console.:: ::Whittaker than refocused.:: Whittaker: Ensign Mandak, find Commander Thoran and see if you can assist with the security arrangements. Mandak: Response ? ::A few moments later, in the corridor, away from the bridge Mirra latched onto Theo's arm and looked at him with horror:: Ezo: We have to have Dr. G'Renn give us something to suppress our gag reflexes or we're going to...::grimacing::...dishonor all over ourselves with this dinner... Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::fighting a gag at the memory:: I don't care if she thinks less of me. I won't make Theo, I absolutely won't. Otherwise, my first act as a diplomatic officer is going to offend a large group of Klingon officers before the main course. ::her eyes widened:: Is their entire diet based on one elaborate dare?!? Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::scowling:: This is not funny Theo Whittaker! ::Alright, so it was a little funny. A snicker escaped as she fought for composure:: Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::smirking:: Hey, you hired me. I'm just trying not to shame you in a public forum. ::the transporter room lay just ahead. The earlier jovial attitude muted as they approached the doors.:: Time to greet our guests. Whittaker/Jolara (if present) : Response? ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Mirra Ezo, MD Diplomatic Officer USS Blackwell C239205ME0
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  9. I am loving the interactions from @Vitor S. Silveiraand @Arturo Maxwell!
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  10. ((Sikuna Colony, Administration Centre)) ::The comm chirped and conversation started with the officers.:: Vess: =/\=Vess to Sevo.=/\= Sevo: =/\= Sevo here, Commander. =/\= Vess: =/\=What’s the ETA on those supplies? We have a very sick woman over here.=/\= Sevo: =/\= Yea...um. We hit a little snag. We made it to the clinic, but came across a very distraught man whose wife is in labor. =/\= ::Eerie understood the concern with the man. During an alternative reality Eerie had almost lost his emotional center with the birth of a child and death his Bolian partner Peiy. She had been lost during childbirth and had sent Eerie into a semi - recluse state for a long time. Eerie knew that emotional support could assist both of the for a long time in the future. While he wasn't keen to assist, he knew that the more support for them could be critical for a long time in the future.:: Eerie: We will take care of situation. Vess: =/\=And yer sure there’s no medical perssonel over there?=/\= Khaveid: =/\= They all evacuated a while ago, Commander. This is a general practice, not a hospital. It's not meant to be staffed during a storm. =/\= ::It was just a few moments later, the Governor had left to get supplies. Eerie had moved up to maintain a more close and personal contact with the woman. He was trying his absolute 'soft' face. Working on those soft skills was he was actually pretty rusty with, but he was going to do his best with her and to assist with the instruments. Eerie had gotten another crash course with his training with the Rangers. It had been a good supplement for the standard Starfleet Emergency Medical Course, but he was happy he wasn't doing the actual delivery. Sevo had much better fine motor skills that Eerie for one.:: Theletha: AAARGH! ::Sevo was actually sweating, but Eerie didn't blame her in the least. Eerie forced a smile on his face and looked into the woman's eyes and was trying to be as non threatening as possible. He lightly touched the shoulder to indicate that everything was just fine.:: A. Sevo: C’mon, Theletha! He’s halfway out! Eerie, how’s she doing up there? Eerie: We are doing just fine.::Quietly.:: :: Eerie didn't tell white lies ever often. However, sometimes if say something others might start believing it as well and that could be very important at time like this. A. Sevo: Did you manage to find a laser scalpel and blanket? Eerie: Here you are. These will help a lot. Eerie: oO Perhaps you should be come a use car salesman? Used cars? Where did that come from?Oo ::Eerie blinked at sometimes his alternative personality would drop interesting thoughts or comments into his reality.:: A. Sevo: A couple more pushes, Theletha, and she’ll be out. ::There was a push and Eerie put his hand into hers a bit awkwardly, but the meaning was apparent.:: A. Sevo: I’ve got her! She’s beautiful. ::The baby started to breath on its own and Eerie gave her a nod to let her know that she had done a good job.:: A. Sevo: Eerie, laser scalpel please. Eerie: Right.::Getting the scalpel and handing it over.:: ::Eerie took a quick glance to see the newborn and it being presented to the mother.:: A. Sevo: Your daughter, Theletha. ::The mother took the little baby. Eerie was happy for both of them. Perhaps this was not as bad as he had thought it would be. At least he didn't have shoot anyone and every seemed to be happy.:: Theletha: Th-thank you! Eerie: Congratulations, you did just fine.::Smiling a bit.::You are both little troopers. Khaveid/Vrovek: Response A. Sevo: Have you thought of a name? Theletha/Vrovek: Response Eerie: Very good. Khaveid: Response A.Sevo: Response Lt. Commander Eerie CO Ranger 451st platoon from the Rangers 3rd Division USS Gorkon A238803E10
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  11. ((Bridge - Deck One - USS Blackwell)) ((Time Index: 1 month later)) :: She woke to the PADD announcing some incoming orders. She rolled over in her bed with a slight grumble, and saw that the orders came from the CO. She needed to get out of bed and ready for the day. They'd be leaving Deep Space 26 today. Off to the shower she went, with at least a pot of coffee or more down the hatch. The shore leave life was seeming to have settled in, and she needed to kick it. The shift had started as it usually did. She walked to the bridge, maneuvered to her chair at the conn, and turned it around to see Cayden. :: Mandak: Well hello there Commander. Adyr: [Tag] Mandak: Take it we're shoving off now. It feels like we've been here a real long time anyway. Adyr: [Tag] Mandak: Was starting to feel like a bum some days. Roll out of bed whenever. Hit the kitchen on the way out and grab whatever was still on the replicator plate. Reminded me of being a civilian... :: She laughed :: Adyr: [Tag] Mandak: I wonder where he - :: The turbolift doors opened, and out stepped Commander Whittaker, ready and raring to go. :: Whittaker: Are you ready, Commander? Adyr: [Tag] Whittaker: Oh yes, indeed! If I’m honest, I am raring to go! ::he turned towards the operations console and looked to its occupant, Lieutenant Commander Shayne. There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke.:: Mr. Shayne- hail DS26 docking control and request permission to depart. ((ooc - I wrote the raring to go part, then laughed when I read the raring to go dialogue lmao)) Shayne: [Tag] Whittaker: Excellent! Lieutenant Mandak- ::he looked ahead, to the back of the Rekarian conn officer.:: - Standby on my mark to release mooring clamps and lay in a heading on four-oh-seven-mark-three-one and prepare to engage when we clear DS26’s traffic zone. :: oO That's me... Oo. She wasn't used to hearing the lieutenant part yet. She'd been running a ship before, but even then, they all used their names when talking to one another. Rank typically didn't play a role unless they were actually engaging in a deal, or something similar. She took her orders and punched them into the grid. She panned out to sector space finding the 407 grid section, the panned down to the 31st subsection. She didn't see anything unusual in the grid, and nothing would be obstructing their pattern of flight. :: Mandak: Course laid in sir, dock is responsive and waiting for orders. Whittaker: ::he turned in his chair until Jarred Thoran came into view.:: Mr. Thoran- are all of our people back aboard ship? Thoran: [Tag] Whittaker: Thank goodness! ::he grinned:: I don't like the idea of leaving people behind. Lieutenant, disengage mooring clamps and back us away from DS26. Maneuvering thrusters only. Mandak: Low and slow, roger sir. :: With the sending of electronic signals to the docking platform, the mooring clamps blew away from the hull of the Blackwell. In smaller ships, she would always wait for the tell tale shudder of the ship as the decompression would send the thing rocking back and forth, but not with these big ships. It was smooth. She actually had to wait for the dock to indicate that the guides were clear. Slowly she'd engaged the reverse thrust, and moved the ship backwards, and beginning a turn to the south. She would need to get outside of the outer docking bay walls as well, which she'd done a million times with a ship smaller than this. Made for easy work though as she cleared the outer doors and made for open space. :: Whittaker: ::to himself more than anyone else.:: To boldly go… Adyr/Shayne/Thoran: [Tag] Whittaker: Ready for anything, Mr. Pandorn? Pandorn: [tag] Whittaker: Carry on, Lieutenant. Pandorn: ? (if any) Whittaker: Please ensure that the senior staff report to the briefing room in an hour, Commander. I have our new orders to share with them. Adyr: [Tag] :: Lae watched as they began to clear the immediate traffic pattern of the other outgoing vessels. She looked across some of the registries that were listed on the information section. She was looking to see if she knew any of them. The Expanse often served as a coveted rest area for those on deep space missions. Sadly, she knew none of them. It would seem that a generation of traders had moved on, with others to replace them. The CO spoke to her again. :: Whittaker: Lieutenant, are we clear of the station's traffic zone? Mandak: Aye sir, smooth and clear sailing from here. Whittaker: ::with another grin.:: Then by all means -engage! Mandak: With pleasure sir. Warp 9. :: She spread her two fingers across the nacelle readouts, throwing the power distribution into full swing. :: Any Present: [Tag] -- Lieutenant JG Na'Lae Mandak Helm Officer USS Blackwell Andaris Task Force O238901VL0
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  12. (OOC: Given the traumatic events of the most recent mission, and Raven's turmoil expressed during his counselling session, I found this sim particularly powerful.) ((Holodeck 1 - Deck 11 - USS Constitution-B)) Young: ::Thinking out loud:: Right... How does this thing work then? ::Raven tapped the panel and it sprang to life. A scrolling list of the most used public programs displayed on the screen. Among the listed programs Raven noticed an old Irish drinking tavern, several hand to hand combat simulators and even suborbital skydiving.:: Young: oO Holodecks really are for maniacs! Oo ::Raven moved away from the panel and crept deeper into the large space of the Hologrid. There really was nothing to fear. No monsters intent on ripping him open and no evil consciousness hiding in the computer. Well, not anymore.:: Young: C-Computer, confirm that the Holodeck safeties are engaged? Computer: Confirmed. Holodeck safeties are online. ::He let his shoulders slump, not realizing how rigid he had been holding himself. He stood there for a time. What should he have the Holodeck generate for him? He thought back to his first moments aboard the Constitution several months before when he'd first entered this very Hologrid, eager to report directly to the Captain. Raven had babbled on to her about his transfer and called her Ma'am. She had really taken him off guard. Granted, she insisted that Raven call her Jalana, not to mention she was dressed up as a red-eyed King, crown beard and all. Raven, who had been assigned a Robin Hood-like outfit was thrust right into the action and along with Choi Ji-Hu, Doc Foster and Lieutenant Commander T'Seva who were all equally as strangely clad.:: ::Raven had no intentions of putting himself back into that particular scenario. He really had hit the ground running as soon as he arrived on the Conny and it felt like he hadn't stopped. His thoughts drifted back to the last mission. He needed to put those thoughts behind him so he could try to find a way to move on with his life. Swallowing the massive bubble of fear that threatened to swallow him whole, Raven spoke to the computer.:: Young: Computer... ::Raven receded further into his thoughts, this was the only way. :: Load up the USS Geneva for me. oO Face your fear Oo Computer: Attention. There are no records of the USS Geneva currently on file. Young: Figures. ::Rolling his eyes:: Link into the Tricorder scans that I took on my Bracer and extrapolate. Computer: Working ::The Holodeck Computer and Raven's Bracer both chimed in harmony for a moment. The Deflector Control room the the USS Geneva materialized around him, taking his breath away. The Holodeck displayed a perfect representation of the small room, complete with the destroyed control panel that Lieutenant Commander Tam had fired on in her blind panic.:: Young: ::Checking his Bracer.:: Computer, skip to time index 48:03. Computer: Working ::Raven knew what he had to do now. How to help himself heal. He had to see it for himself. He needed to reassure himself that there was no choice and he had to fire on that Klingon. The Deflector Control room faded away to be replaced with the dimly lit confines of the Jefferies tube. This was where it happened. Raven looked around, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. Behind him there was a shallow pool of blood.:: Young: Computer, extrapolate from the bio-signs and audio recordings and display as characters. ::Raven fell to his knees as the scene unfolded before him. The very same Klingon who's face had haunted him for days appeared, brandishing a Bat'leth, poised to attack. He was frozen in place above a smaller Klingon with a familiar bracer on his right arm. Raven surveyed the scene, taking in every detail. He turned and saw the frozen form of Lieutenant Yito, covered in blood and nearby lay the unconscious Katrina Tam. He turned back and saw Lieutenant Sindri and Ensign Mulligan fighting hand to hand with the remaining pirates. The Klingon pirate was moments away from cutting the Klingon-disguised Raven in half. Raven's Klingon self had his Disruptor levelled at the enemies face. There really was no way out. He had met his own Kobayashi Maru. If Raven hadn't fired, killing the warrior he would have been killed. It was also likely that the rest of the team wouldn't have fared much better after becoming outnumbered. Raven had done the right thing, the only thing he could and survived.:: Young: ::To Tam:: Damn you. ::Tam didn't answer and remained as still as the rest of the Holodeck. Raven sighed and rounded back to the Klingon. He stood up and moved over to him, face to face. The expression on the Pirate was one of hunger, satisfaction that he was about to make a kill. The man had died in battle, like a true Klingon warrior Raven reflected. By his beliefs, he was celebrating in Sto'Vo'Kor. The thought made Raven feel a little better.:: Young: ::Staring deep into the Pirates features, intent on never forgetting his face:: Computer end program. ::The scene faded away back to the sleek lines of the Hologrid. Raven stood in silence for a time before moving away toward the doors. He paused. Starfleet and possibly even the other members of the crew might object if any trace of the highly classified Geneva mission remained. Raven punched the delete all button on his Bracer, purging all record of his scans. The Geneva mission would now remain only a memory. A memory that he could live with.:: END --------------------- Ensign Dave 'Raven' Young Science Officer USS Constitution-B C239411DY0
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  13. (( Flashback )) (( 121 years earlier )) // Expedition Commander’s Officer’s Log. [Stardate 227411.23]. Seventeen hours after entering the Shadows, Pellecia suffered an unexpected failure of its propulsion and the subspace cloak. Without the protection of the cloak, a subspace drag effect created by the dense tetryon fields caused sudden and rapid deceleration. Though inertial dampeners were able to compensate, several systems were damaged and three crew were killed by shifting cargo. Full damage report and the names of the deceased are attached. Let it be known that they died in service of the empire. // (( Day 2 )) (( Captain’s Quarters, Deck 7, IRW Pellecia )) :: Allek poured another glass of ale as he read through the report from his chief engineer. Besides the critical damage to the subspace cloak and the ship’s propulsion systems, their food synthesizers had stopped functioning, and life support systems were behaving erratically throughout the ship. Not dangerously so, at least not yet, but it was certainly inconvenient. :: :: To add insult to injury, much of his crew had spent the day fighting plasma fires below decks. No one else had been killed, but it had been gruelling, difficult work, and many of the ship’s crew had suffered burns. The Remans had suffered particularly badly, as they’d been expected to handle the most dangerous work. :: Allek: How long will it take to get us back en route? :: The ship’s chief engineer wore a serene expression despite the smears of some kind of soot or grease covering much of her pale, slender face. :: Treyalak: The repairs are simple enough. If we keep up double shifts, I can have the subspace cloak and warp drive back online within 36 hours. The structural damage is more severe. Without access to a drydock, we’re looking at several hundred EVAs to repair the damage to the space frame. If I get everyone who’s qualified to help, we might be able to do it in a week. :: Allek took a short pull from his glass then gestured to the still full one across from him. :: Allek: You look like you need this more than I do. :: She glanced down, looking as if she’d forgotten the fragrant drink was even there. Hesitantly, she picked it up and allowed some of the cooling liquid to touch her lips. :: Allek: I’ll make the announcement tomorrow. Start with the repairs. If we don’t get enough volunteers for the frame repairs, we’ll start pulling crew from other assignments. Dorix: There are over fifty Remans on this ship. Surely we won’t need to buden our officers with this kind of menial labor. :: The expedition commander had a slightly round face. Twenty years ago, he’d been a beast of a man. Now, his former bulk had turned largely to fat, as was common with age. Despite this, he still had the force of personality and the reputation of the embodiment of what nearly every imperial officer wanted to be. Awed to the point of fear. Cultured. Well-connected and respected with both military and the civilian leaders. :: Allek: Commander, the Remans spent the last twelve hours fighting plasma fires on three decks. I’m not sure it’s wise to compel them to do more at this point. Not without rest, at least. Dorix: It’s their duty in this life, Sub-Commander. They should be proud to have it. :: Allek had heard this tone in his superior’s voice before. It made it clear that he would not tolerate dissension. His opinion had been made known, and he expected it to be treated as an order. :: Allek: Very well, Commander. :: He’d have to offer them something in return. First the disease. Now this. He’d never seen so much tension between Reman and Romulan crew before. :: Treyalak: The sooner we get started the better, Sirs. Request permission to return to duty. :: Allek looked to Dorix, who gave a slight nod of approval. :: Allek: Dismissed, Centurion. I’ll come by in a few hours to check on your progress. :: The female stood, nodded to both her superiors, then left to return to her hectic engine room. As the door closed behind them, Allek took another long pull from his glass to empty it. :: Dorix: The commanders of Raze and Sulvian have signaled to ask for orders. :: The other two members of the expedition fleet had been eager to resume their course ever since the accident. :: Allek: If they could spare some of their crew to help with the repairs-- Dorix: I’ve decided that they should resume course rather than wait for Pellecia. :: Allek was so taken aback by this, he felt as if the blow had been physical. Without the other ships, Pellecia would be stranded here. If something went wrong with the repairs, they would no longer have the option of evacuating. :: Dorix: Further, I’ve decided to transfer my flag to the Sulvian. Sub-Commander Vulek will be pleased, I’m sure. :: The muscles in Allek’s his jaw cramped. :: Dorix: The mission is too important, Allek. We can’t allow a delay of this long. Allek: Then why not evacuate Pellecia? :: The other man laughed. :: Dorix: You can’t be serious? The ship still has every chance of being salvaged. I have no intention of abandoning it. :: Allek had to bite back the obvious response. Dorix did have every intention of abandoning it. The only difference was that he was leaving the crew behind. :: Dorix: Once repairs are complete, you will proceed on a course to our designated rendezvous point outside of the Shoals. :: It would be months before they could make such a rendezvous. :: Allek: And if we aren’t there? Dorix: Then I’ll, of course, arrange for a rescue mission. Pellecia is outfitted with enough food and water for at least five years. You’ll be fine. :: Allek had his doubts. :: Allek: When do you plan to leave, Sir? Dorix: Tomorrow morning, I think. We’ll assemble the crew in your shuttle bay to make the announcement. I believe you needed to gather them to explain your repair plans anyway. Allek: Very well, Sir. :: Dorix let out a short sigh. :: Dorix: You act as if I’ve just signed your execution order, Allek. You’ll be fine. In all likelihood, we’ll be back on Romulus together in a year’s time. :: There was that tone again. Imperious and dripping with condescension. :: Allek: As you say, sir. :: There were a few moments of quiet between them before Dorix stood to leave. :: Dorix: You have much to learn about command, Sub-commander. May chance this journey will give you the opportunity. :: Allek poured himself another drink. :: Allek: Good luck with the mission, Sir. :: Dorix nodded his approval of the sentiment, then left without saying another word. By the time Allek fell asleep in his bed, he was very, very drunk. :: (( Day 3 )) (( Main Bridge, Deck 1 )) :: Though nursing a slight hangover, Allek stood on the bridge of his ship. The transfer of command had taken place quietly before the assembly below decks. Now that it was all over, Allek was feeling strangely positive. With Dorix no longer on board, Allek felt like he was truly in command of his vessel for the first time since they’d left Romulus. :: :: The Reman Uhlan at the comms station looked up as Allek passed by. :: Drivek: Sub-Commander, Sulvian has issued a departure vector for the fleet. They’re preparing to go to warp. :: Both ships had recloaked several hours earlier, but Allek still turned his attention to the main viewer. If they looked closely, they’d still be able to see the flash of the ships going to warp. :: :: The rest of the bridge grew quiet as they all watched for the same thing. When two full minutes passed without any sign, Allek assumed they’d missed it. :: Allek: Are they still out there, Uhlan? :: The Reman looked confused. :: Drivek: Yes, Sir. I’m… getting some unusual comms chatter. I think something’s gone wrong. :: Despite his weariness, he felt his attention snap into focus as he stepped back towards the young Uhlan. :: Allek: Define ‘wrong.’ Reman: I’m… not sure, Sub-commander. I-- :: The Lieutenant at tactical interrupted. :: Kenson: I’m detecting some kind of subspace power surge in the immediate vicinity. Allek: Shields up! :: The response was automatic, as was the tactical officers quick hand movements. The hum of the ship’s shield generators was a comforting one, but any relief it brought was short lived as a green and orange fireball suddenly erupted several hundred meters ahead of them. They all knew what that meant. :: Allek: Which ship was that? Kenson: I’m not sure, sir, but I think that was the Raze. Allek: Scan for survivors. Drivek: Sir, receiving a message from Commander Dorix. Audio only. Allek: Put it through. :: The Commanders tension-filled voice filled the bridge, though it was badly distorted by some kind of interference. :: Dorix: =/\= ...interfered with the warp field...unable to...system failure...are abandoning ship...standby for- =/\= :: A second explosion on screen cut short the commander’s final words. This one was closer than the first, and the resulting shockwave caused the Pellecia to shudder beneath their feet. :: :: The silence on the bridge was deafening, and felt like it lasted for an eternity. Allek finally broke it to issue orders. :: Allek: Any sign of survivors? :: The sounds of several consoles being worked came to his ears, but no words. He repeated the question. :: Kenson: No, Sir. No lifesigns detected. No signs of shuttles or escape pods. Drivek: Nothing on subspace, Sub-Commander. :: Allek walked slowly to his raised command chair, fearing his legs would collapse before he made it. They didn’t, but it had taken a monumental effort. He sat deliberately, then took two deep breaths to center himself. :: Allek: Keep scanning. :: It was the only order he could think to give for several minutes. What else could he say. The bridge crew were just as shocked as he was. Despite his failings, Dorix had seemed like the kind of indomitable man that would live forever. His sudden and senseless loss would stun the entire crew when it became known, as would the loss of so many other loyal officers and crew. :: Allek: Uhlan Drivek, send word to Centurion Treyalak to halt all repairs and to report to my office. Immediately. === Sub-Commander Allek Tr’Rehu Commanding Officer IRW Pellecia (as written by @Evan Delano) T239007ED0
    1 point
  14. (( Agricultural Administration Building - Ih’aesn - Sikuna )) :: Nugra was caught between feeling surprised by the fact that their situation had gone downhill to realizing that it always went downhill. Yiggtissi's suit had been compromised and the governor of this city was dead. He had two Starfleet officers to protect in case the colonists became a mob. He was not in the mood to kill anyone at present. :: :: Stepping out into the hallway while everyone followed their assignments, Nugra pulled his PADD out of his pocket to quickly get an idea what was going on with the other teams.:: :: There was a strange tickling in Kaji's mind as she neared the compound, like a familiar presence, and she slowed to pinpoint it. She frequently recognized the sounds of people's mental "voices", but not just a sense of presence. Stretching her telepathic senses, she searched for the source, but it seemed far away to the north. A mystery for later, then. :: :: Talia pushed her way through the Admin building's doors, grateful for the shelter. There were only a few military members around, most non-essential personnel having been sent home. A guard scanned her badge, as she was a civilian currently and not in any uniform. She traced her way through the corridors to the governor's office. Atlai had told her to meet the Starfleet team there. But when she turned the corner and looked down the hall, Talia stopped cold. :: :: It felt like her mind had frozen, incapable of actually processing thoughts. The figure at the end of the hall loomed over his surroundings just as he loomed over both her dreams and nightmares. The damn Gorn would just not leave her in peace! Was he to haunt her waking hours as well? Countless nights spent curled up in bed, too afraid to go back to sleep and relive his death yet again wasn't enough? Or the other nights where she wished she COULD get back to sleep to continue a different sort of dream, where they were just together? :: :: It took the mundane action of him checking his PADD to snap Talia out of her stupor. This wasn't a hallucination, it was Nugra. In the flesh. That stupid, beautiful, scaly flesh. :: :: Upon seeing a report that negotiations were not faring well, Nugra let out a grunt of irritation. Hopefully, Sevo was not going to punch a Romulan...again.:: :: The irritated grunt got through the last of Talia's disbelief. :: Kaji: :: striding towards him:: Oh gods, oh gods. Nugra! :: She threw herself at him, probably before he even knew it was her, but she didn't care. Decorum be damned, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. :: :: It was the scent at first that he detected but his brain refused to register it as being true. The PADD had his attention but it was the squeal of her voice and the arms that tried to wrap around his bulk that broke him out of the thought and into shock. He [...]ed his head to see what had gotten a hold of him and was met with a head of curly hair, black eyes, and the happiest grin he had ever seen. :: Nugra: oO Talia! Oo :: A million emotions soared through him in the half a second his mind hesitated. She was on Obsidia Colony and he had been long gone, hidden in the depths of the Gamma Quadrant on the USS Athena. How was it possible that they had met on a Republic world. His mind struggled to form words to speak to the woman he thought he had lost forever. :: :: She couldn't let go, even though her feet were dangling six inches off the floor. She just buried her head in his neck and hoped he couldn’t feel the tears. :: Kaji: How...How are you even alive? :: There were no words. How could he say anything to her right now when his heart felt like it was going to explode. He wrapped his giant hands around her waist, hefted her to eye level and gave her a crushing hug of joy. Only one word got out of this lizard. :: Nugra: ::choked up:: Talia. Kaji: You freaking lizard, you couldn’t even send me a note, like “hey I’m not dead anymore, so you don’t need to keep grieving”-- not that I was grieving your ugly mug, because you’re too stupid to…killing yourself like that to “save everyone” or whatever. :: Talia felt that her points were being undermined by the sobs breaking through and garbling her words. :: Nugra: Starfleet Intelligence…. Kaji: :: freeing one hand to slap the back of his head:: That is an astoundingly terrible excuse. Nugra: I should have sent you a note once I was released but...I didn’t know what to say. Kaji: Anything. Anything would have been good. Nugra: ::sheepishly:: Hi, Talia. I am alive. Kaji: :: mumbling as she buried her face in his neck again.:: [...]. I missed you. Nugra: I missed you too. :: Another voice broke into the conversation that snapped Nugra back. :: N’Lee: ::grinning:: As sweet as this is, Captain, I need my doctor. Please put her down. :: Chagrined, Nugra put Kaji back on her feet and gave his uniform a dutiful but too long tug before straightening back to business. :: Nugra: Of course, Sub-Commander. :: To Talia:: Doctor Kaji. We seem to have an outbreak and one of my crew members may have become infected. Shall we? Kaji: :: with a lightness she hadn’t felt in over a year, she laughed,:: Yes, Sir. :: As Nugra walked past N’Lee, he heard the Romulan whisper to him. :: N’Lee: ::grinning:: Don’t worry, Nuggs. I won’t tell the Admiral you were hugging doctors in a middle of a crisis. JP By… -- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Captain Nugra Taskforce Security Liaison Publicity Facilitator The Archivist '17 Simming Prize Laureate USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ & --------------------- Dr Talia Kaji Civilian Medical Doctor Romulan Vessel, Mhr'Vaat E239008TK0 ---------------------
    1 point
  15. (( Outside - Ih’aesn Agricultural Administration Building )) ::Their people were sick and dying, and all their acting Governor could care about was repairing the verteron array. ::The Romulan male huddled inside his thick coat at the fringes of the protest line; watching, waiting, thinking, slowly disintegrating. The Hawking hadn't been enough to continue their scientific experiments; they'd called in backup. Now they were being invaded by the Gorkon and their teams. He wondered what lies they would be told in the building; the virus had only just been discovered, perhaps, or it was an isolated problem, they had contained the infection, the people weren't dying yet. A collection of spun stories from a Commander who would tell the Federation whatever they wanted to hear. ::A life lived in the coastal town had been a happy one, for a time, away from the problems being anywhere near the Administration building caused. Dark eyes looked out under a furrowed brow to where the array extended from the terrain under the shadowed clouds. None of this had started until that thing was switched on. Science experiments. "Verteron particles". They could call it what they wanted, the protestors knew the truth. ::He hadn't believed the protestors at first. He was an educated man. He had argued against the rabble when they had formed in their hometown, refusing to accept the evidence laid bare before them. It wasn't until his wife had succumbed to the sickness, as his children had deteriorated, and all he could do was sit and watch as their Republic Doctors tried in vain to stem the flow of blood from decaying organs, petechia from forming, the vomiting to stop. Green bruises had begun to swell under his skin and his time was limited. A broken man with little more to live for. A danger to himself. ::A racking cough split through his chest like a knife and he spat on the floor; a dark glob of green and black sputum from infected lungs and bleeding gums, one of many symptoms he would likely show before he died alone in his home. The back of his hand wiped his mouth, then slicked his wet hair back, and watched the Gorkon's team ascend the stairs to the oppressive structure. The Hawking had been of little to no help so far and their people were still succumbing to the mysterious illness faster than they could burn the bodies to stop the spread. The breeding ground had been the family quarters, living in small apartments, on top of one another, waiting for proper housing to be built. Agricultural crops had withered and weakened as their people had surrendered to dysentery and oedema. ::Someone brushed past him, jolting him to the side onto painful legs that barely held him upright, then a large stone hurtled through the air and sank into the brickwork of the ornate Romulan building. A roar of encouragement surged from the crowded dissidents and it wasn't moments later another object was hurled, this time smashing against the strong arms of their Brikar. Had that been a signal? He wasn't sure. He couldn't see the others. ::He pulled his thick coat around him once more, and slunk back into the crowd, shuffling on aching limbs. ::Whatever was coming next, he hoped the Gorkon crew was ready for.:: ---- [MSNPC] D'varo Llhran Agricultural Laborour Ih’aesn, Sikuna
    1 point
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