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((USS Columbia - Main Shuttlebay)) ::Was it possible to be stalked by an inanimate object? Did it's complex computer circuits feel some sort of wanton affection for the Gorn that couldn't keep it away? No matter how far he seemed to run, he always ended up back inside the giant squashed bug that is the Columbia. Any soreness he felt about it was more in jest then truth, he just hated to admit that he loved this ship in return. It wasn't the fastest, nor the prettiest. It wasn't as smart as some of the new dedicated science ships, and it wasn't as powerful as a the massive star cruisers being pumped out by the shipyards. It was old, it was clunky, and even the new carpet couldn't hide the aged architecture and nearly retro design behind them. Old fashioned would be the term, just like the Gorn that once more patrolled it's halls. Even now he could feel his legs ready to stride back down those corridors without so much of a second thought for navigation, muscle memory that had not been lost despite his time on the starbase, and the Avandar before that.:: Whittaker: To Captain Theo Michelangelo Whittaker, Stardate 239509.10. You are hereby requested and required to take command of the U.S.S. Columbia N.C.C.-85279 as of this stardate. Signed, Admiral Vivian Hauke, Starfleet Command. ::beat:: Computer, transfer all command authorisation codes to myself. Voice authorisation: Whittaker Delta Five. ::Tatash watched, and waited, as the ship sucked in this new information, mulling it over in those processing engines:: Computer: Transfer complete. U.S.S. Columbia N.C.C.-85279 now under the command of Captain Theo Michelangelo Whittaker. Pandorn: Captain on deck!!! ::smiles at his CO:: ::Without thought he snapped to attention. Some habits are impossible to break, clanking his heels on the deckplate:: Any: ? Whittaker:Well, there you have it people. Our new ship. We have an exciting opportunity ahead of us. This is a storied vessel with a lot of history behind her. Let make sure that we do her all proud and that the history books never forget our names. G’Renn: Time to add another chapter to this ship’s history. Any: ? Whittaker: ::with a smile, he brought the ceremony to its logical conclusion.:: Dismissed. Tatash: Walk and talk, people.::he growled:: Last thing you want is a cargo shuttle landing on your head. ::He delivered it with a light, good humored tone. Already he could see more running lights hovering outside the large force-field protecting them from vacuum, there was apparently still a lot of supplies and crew to get on board, more then just using the transporters would allow. People broke into their own teams, each of them looking genuinely excited to be on board the illustrious vessel, although he held himself back a little making sure the landing pads were clear of personnel before moving to the side of the door, his yellow eyes watching the next couple of vehicles touch down safely before heading out of the main door himself. The corridors smelt new at least, the carpet freshly laid and plush enough that his massive boots sunk into its surface. The new paneling giving what used to be brightly lit beige a more naval tone yet still capturing some essence of regalia. It was a facelift and a half, but still he knew the layout despite it's visually pleasing upgrade. That was reassuring, the thought that they would have rearranged any of the key area's was practically heresy. He nodded to people as he slowly walked past, the same inspection route he'd taken hundreds of time, the same predictable set of events that a security chief undertook before each voyage. First he would make sure they had their teeth, then he'd make sure the ship had hers. His first stop was towards the deep heart of the ship, located near the brig for obvious reasons (which, without any prisoners in, was a pointless trip).:: Computer: Authorization Required. Tatash: Tatash, Alpha One Nine Eight Three. ::The door opened with an obedient hiss, the weapons locker of the Columbia laying itself bare. Racks of weapons, not as many as the massive QM on Starbase 118 and certainly none of the heavy weapons the corps used. The key difference here was everything here was so very new. Compression rifles, standard phase rifles, armor, grenades, everything pristine almost in it's packaging. The room smelt of lubricant and polish, the tang of energy cells fully charged, the faint hum of the security fields keeping the weapons in check unless authorized to fall. But most importantly, there wasn't an empty space. He threw a brief glance down to the PADD he'd been clutching since arrival, then looked back up at the numbers above each rack. All present and correct. Good. His next stop was a few further decks up, after leaving the armory locked behind him. The doorway here was larger, a lot more solid. More designed to keep anything inside from exploding outwards.:: Computer: Authorization Required. ::He wished silently the damned thing would just remember him:: Tatash: Tatash, Alpha One Nine Eight Three. ::This door clunked open with a loud whine, revealing the racks upon racks of ominous looking black oblongs. Again, no gaps in the housing and every mount seemed to have one of the large torpedo's nestled snugly inside it. Again, the entire room was new. Gone was the old fashioned slip n slide style of loading that needed several people to operate. This was newer, faster and deadlier. He tapped a claw on the small console at the end of the mechanical spool, the entire housing shifting with a steady clunk as each shelf was rotated to bear its deadly charge if required.:: Tatash: Computer, how many torpedo's are on board? Computer: One hundred and eighty. ::The perfect number, If anything this was starting to get a little boring.:: Tatash: =/\= Tatash to Pandorn Pandorn: =/\= ? Tatash: =/\= You have a full magazine down here. Loading system functional. Pandorn: =/\= ? Tatash: =/\= You're welcome. Out. ::It would be up to Tactical to make sure the phasers were operational, there was so many arrays dotted all round the ship that a visual inspection of each would take hours, if not days of work. Torpedo's he could count, complex engineering work, not so much his forte Again he strode out, his routine swinging him back towards the brig, this time into his own security office. Small, compact. Barely room for a desk and a couple of chairs on the other side along with the usual readouts of the ship. Already someone had put the box containing his handful of desk ornaments considerately down for him on the [...] wood surface. For a brief second he felt himself almost pulled back in time, had he been standing in this same place sometime, wondering how he would cope with the duty suddenly thrust on him as a head of department? When did that anxiety become replaced with the quiet confidence of slipping on a comfortable old glove? Still, his mistake back then had been spending too much time in this room. It had been that which had stunted him developing friendships, leaving him moping around for the first few missions. A mistake that he had no intention of repeating as he moved back to the turbolift:: Tatash: Bridge. ::The machine whirred upwards at a breakneck pace, he was almost convinced he'd left his stomach down where he'd embarked by the time he'd been practically vomited out onto the bridge. He blinked a few times, now -this- was a new set up. Gone was the sweeping arcs, the aged design of Starfleets optimistic classic design replaced with the more genuinely navyesque modern decor. But still everything hummed with machinery, beeping and whirring like a tinkerers toybox. It was, if anything, overwhelmingly complicated.:: Tatash: This is a bit much. Any: ? ::He hadn't really been aware he'd said it out loud, gesturing with his hand to the controls so polished that the overhead lights gleamed off them:: Tatash: I mean, look at it. It's all so -new-! Any: ? --- Lt. Commander Tatash Acting Chief of Security USS Columbia C239108T10

Another submission from myself! @Tatash manages to make even the simplest of tasks an engaging and thoughtful read! This is some fantastic writing! Bravo!

Another outstanding sim from @Randal Shayne. I also love the exposition you add to your sims! ((Corridors of the Recreation Deck, DS26)) Shayne: It is… improving. Slowly. I… turned down the first officer position a few days ago. I think… I think that may have been a mistake. ::The wind left him with that admission, and he hung, frozen in space, waiting for the smallest breeze to push him one way or the other. He was vulnerable, judged, but he didn’t mind. It came easy. The surrender of control, though brief and frightening, was blissful. Which way would he descend, he wondered? This was a crossroads- an important one. A vital one. Clear of head, dopey of countenance, he waited for path to be chosen.:: ::When it finally arrived, the breeze was not an indistinct, lilting gust as he’d been expecting. It shocked him, and the realm his sleep-deprived mind had created, like an earthquake, gently but firmly reintroducing him to reality. The lightning bolt stunned him from within, and he returned to the present.:: ::He smiled slightly as he felt MacKenna’s urgent yet soft grasp. So here was Zeus.:: MacKenna: I… ::But why was this the result of his revelation? She seemed struck, much as he had been, and not in a way he’d witnessed before. It was not understanding, or surprise. It was a sympathetic vibration that Shayne, for the life of him, could not grasp. He wondered what he’d done, what had triggered this latest surge of feeling that he could not help but feel as well.:: MacKenna: Let’s go somewhere. ::The wistfulness was gone, the fear tran[...]ed into purpose. Shayne could only watch with enraptured fascination as this timid, quiet woman remained quintessentially herself, but now marched, infused with a purpose he was as yet unable to fathom. They were so similar- how could this elude him? What would make him do precisely those actions, feel precisely those things?:: Shayne: Lead on. ::And she did. Winding through corridors, not terribly fast, but with burning need. He could sense it, knew it utterly. And he knew also that however far they walked, their quest had just begun, and would be completed on a different plane then the one they padded down now. The corridors were livid, projected upon by her drive and his adoration, so that the soft green metal glowed with glee in Shayne’s ravenous eyes. Throughout their inspired traipse, not once- not ever- did he worry about where he was going, or where they’d end up. He trusted her, and knew her. Wherever she was… was right.:: MacKenna: I understand how you feel. I’ve been there once. But it gets better. ::How could she not? This level of awkwardness, of fear… its consequences were not unique to him. How many opportunities had MacKenna passed by, just like him? Now he understood the urgency, the need to get him to understand that she’d exhibited. But… the intensity… there was something more. Something Shayne was not gathering.:: Shayne: I trust you. But… does it? They’ll not ask me again- not if they’re in their right minds. ::Where was the vitriol? The pounding, overwhelming self-loathing that had carved itself into his mind over the past few days? Still there, he realized, hidden away, and completely overshadowed by the realization that something good- someone good- was before him. A voice in the wilderness.:: ::How young this science officer was, youthful beauty and aged, tortured reservation wrapped into one astonishing individual. Her eyes were timeless, but the more he looked, the more he desired to know. A lieutenant commander already? Astounding. Even if he did not connect with her on a spiritual level, Shayne realized he was in the presence of someone uncommonly gifted.:: MacKenna: ? ::He stared at her, before quickly diverting his gaze through sheer will. Even in his shock and amazement, her safety and comfort were foremost on his mind. He wasn’t alone. He mulled the foreign concept in his swirling brain, trying to attach it to some semblance of reality. No, not foreign. More like a friend of old, waving from the distant sand dunes that granules of time had blasted smooth.:: ::He wanted to hold her, hug her, be with her. She was perfect. It wasn’t even a product of his masculine handicap- yes, she was a stunning person in every way, but this was a purer calling. A genuine, unconditional love- the sort of love that allows you to realize there’s something worth sticking around in the world for.:: ::Gently- for he still tread carefully upon the glassy lake of her consent- he took her hand in both of his, and raised it to his chest, slowly and smoothly.:: Shayne: From the bottom of my heart, thank you. :: “For helping me. For opening yourself up to me. For sharing. For caring. For daring. For… pairing”. He thought better of voicing these silly things. She’d understand better this way, he hoped. Whatever happened now, she had a friend. And anything else she could possibly desire that was within his power to grant.:: Shayne: oO You need only give a sign. I am here for you. Oo MacKenna: ? Tag/TBC… Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Ops Officer/ Second Officer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0

((Corridors Outside Sickbay, USS Columbia)) ::It had been a very long time since she had last stood in this place, and it looked entirely new. Nothing was left of the battles fought, save for the memories (or lack thereof) and the log entries and damage reports from years prior. It hadn’t taken Kali long to uncover her link to the ship before it had been refit, and in a way she hoped that her history with her would open the doors to some memories somewhere.:: ::But here as she stood, just outside the doors where the dragon had apparently crashed through the bulkhead, she still remembered nothing.:: ::With a frown, she looked down at the padd in her hand at the damage reports and the images they included. Deep claw marks marred the metallic walls and the doors themselves had been thrown haphazardly to the side in the process. Dark stains on the deck left little to the imagination when it came to the price paid by those who defended sickbay that day, and the lighting itself seemed dim in the aftermath of it all.:: ::And yet Kali could not remember any of it.:: ::The logs from the event that would eventually take her and her crew through the waycorridors to Odyssey station, in another galaxy, outlined the trials the crew faced from the newly named Draco Stellarium, barely making it out of the Azure nebula alive. The destruction to the ship was awful and complete, leaving entire sections uninhabitable until their return to the Starbase.:: ::As Kali looked up at the door she saw, nor remembered, any of it. The pristine surfaces only rang of a newness that didn’t come with history. The carpet on the deck was clean and fresh. There was no trace of claw marks or death, aside from the idea that this was sickbay. And in her mind, there was no trace of any of the memories that should have been there.:: ::With a sigh, she stopped thinking about it. The pictures on the padd looked so unfamiliar, not just in the context of her past, but in the context of the present as well. The ship had truly been refit, completely and totally. It shone like it had just come off the assembly line, still in need of her first shakedown cruise. Perhaps that was what threw her…:: ::Apparently it threw her so hard she didn’t even notice that she was blocking the door until she was nearly face to face with an officer she didn’t know.:: Duyzer: ? ::Kali blinked, focusing her crystalline blues on the person who had seemingly materialized in front of her.:: Nicholotti: Oh, I’m sorry. ::Smiling.:: Guess I kind of got lost with my thoughts there. Duyzer: ? ::The ambassador stepped back to give him room to enter the corridor. She nodded in greeting.:: Nicholotti: Indeed. I don’t recognize you. Are you newly assigned here? ::Of course he was. Kali let her own mischievous grin dance across her face at her own question. They were all newly assigned, so this officer she didn’t know was also.:: Duyzer: ? ::With a slight bit more flourish that was probably necessary, Kali bowed slightly, letting her long raven hair fall over her shoulder.:: Nicholotti: Ambassador Kalianna Nicholotti, at your service. Duyzer: ? TAG/TBC Fleet Captain Kalianna Nicholotti Federation Ambassador at Large As simmed by: Lieutenant Commander Ash MacKenna Chief Science Officer USS Columbia R238605KN0

I found this stunningly powerful- beautiful writing, @Kali Nicholotti!

Oh my goodness! What kind words, Im ever so touched by them. Thank you ever so much @Valin Dermont 😊