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  1. 1 point
    ((Starbase 118 - little Risa - Cabo Breeze.)) Dante watched the pleasant faces around him spin, or maybe that was the room? Hael: Nev’r have I ev’r …. Had a crush on’a teacher... Termine: Ouuh! I have! ::Dante took a big swig of his beer:: Dante's mind was awash with thoughts of one of his first music teachers. The Betazed woman was like a godess of warmth to him at a young age and in hindsight Dante realized she was probably aware of his affection. Dante tried to blush harder, but the alcohol had already done that for him. Hael: I had this one teach - she was younger - thought she was the our first gal I’d ev’r done seen Rustyy took a swig of his drink, and Max grinned at the thought of what a messy evening this was going to turn into. Termine: Thuh Shhtory? As Max answered, Rustyy laughed. Maxwell: True story. Hael: Come’on keep on’a goin’ ::he wanted to know more… and hopefully not reveal as much.:: Termine: Weeeell.. If you inshist…. Maxwell: Never have I ever blown off an Academy class tae go drinking. Termine: Unforshunately, deshpite my curent shtate, I wash never really that fun in the acAdeMyy. But that's what I've goth Friendhs for! Dante laughed and clapped his arms around his compatriots at the table. Hael: Alrigh’y! ::he slammed his hand down.:: Nev’r have I farted round’a group’s strangers! Maxwell: What about loud enough tae drown out the Comandant's speech at your graduation? Dante laughed bawdily, though he wasn't sure if it was a joke or a recollection. Either way, Dante just felt like laughing. This alcohol thing sure was an interesting experience! Termine: I've fhaarted a few times in groups buuut. *burp* mostly it wash to geve me an excush to leave! heheheHehe~ Max chuckled as he went next. Maxwell: Never have I ever been curious enough tae try a pets food. Dante took a big gulp Termine: N'aw look. You think AAAALLL you want, but I'll shay that Targ food looks a LOT like Guacamole. Max was starting to feel really devilish now, and he motioned for the bartender to give them shots instead of their previous drinks. He pointed at a particular bottle. Hael: Nev’r have I ev’r - gone streakin’ in public. Maxwell: It was pretty cold when I did it. ::He laughed at the memory of his drunken and shivering team mates piling into the pub at the top of the street. And the reactions from the people in there.:: Termine: Onshe again, I wasn't that fun! But I wonder that the regulationsh about pubblibic nubditidy are arounb here are! That comment got a rise out of the listening audience. Hael: ::he looked at his latest empty glass.:: We gonna be hur’in’ tomorrow. ::he ungracefully snort laughed.:: I got one! - an’ i’m’a purdy sure I ain’ nev’r done it either. ::uncertainly said.:: Nev’r have I ev’r ::dramatic pause.:: kissed a fella Safe again. Max put his shot back on the bar as he waited for the responses of the others. Dante poured himself a big shot of whatever liquid he had been offered and shot it back in his head. His thoughts were momentarily drawn to the black, bitter stinging sensation in his mouth, but they soon faded to be replaced with the memory of B'larin, one of his first crushes at the academy. It had been a hot romance when they first started seeing each other but cooled quickly as they both realized the heat they felt for each other was more about the newness of the academy life and sexual liberty ( especially in Dante's case who had just escaped a pretty strict home life) Still, you can never completely quell the flames one once had in youth. Termine: O'course I have! ! To Love! ::Dante clutched his heart:: Wha-'ere form it comes in! This proclamation brought with it another great cheer from the crowd, and with it went Dante, over the back of his own bar stool, crashing in amongst the crowd. ___________________________________________ ((OOC: There's definitely still more to be explored here but I'll leave it to Maxwell and Hael to decide if we want to continue the scene. I think with the ceremony it might be time to move ahead!) Lt. JG Dante Termine Diplomatic Corps, Starbase 118 A239503DT0
  2. 1 point
    (( Part 1)) ((Outpost, Omicron Noctae IIIa)) With a dull thud from the internal mechanism, the doors parted. The thick layers of dust that swamped the room they were stood in stopped at that threshold, though powdered footprints faded across the next room as the unknown visitors tracked it through. Quinn swung her rifle back up, heart rate climbing in concert. Whoever it was, they had moved further into the building; minutes ago, an hour ago, it was impossible to tell. But the door beyond was unremarkable, not of the heavy security design that they had just dealt with. She looked toward Neathler, raising her eyebrows. Reynolds: On your lead. ch'Ranni: Darling, I'll follow you anywhere. The Andorian gave a small smile toward Neathler, and stood, falling in behind the human with a hint of swagger in his stride. The charming rogue, smuggling for self-interest. She wondered what he'd do when they got out; whether he'd return to that life or start something anew. It made Neathler shake her hand, and she pulled a dented hand phaser from the inside pocket of her clothing, passing it toward him. Neathler: Just don't point that thing on me, Smuggler. ch'Ranni: Nice. Through the doors they passed, and Quinn glanced over her shoulder as they closed behind her. Now sealed, the air was thicker in here, the atmosphere not being lost through breaches in the outpost's shell. Jona removed his rebreather and smiled, though neither Quinn nor Neathler had the same confidence in the quality of the air. Perhaps the brunette could also hear echoes of Marshall's warning that the Cardassians were as liable to use toxins and poisons as traps, as they were fire. ch'Ranni: Seems like there's power here. Life support's operational too. I guess somebody's home. ::He faced the next doors and turned to Neathler with questioning eyes..:: Maybe we should knock? Neathler: I lost my manners years ago. And maybe you should keep on that rebreather in case the spoons installed some airborne poison or stuff like that. The comment earned them a shrug, but nonetheless, he slipped the rebreather back on. Neathler slipped into position next to the new set of doors, and with the barrel of her rifle raised toward the ceiling, she nodded toward Jona. With a tap of his fingers and without protest or problem, they were granted ingress, and after a heartbeat's pause, the human woman levelled her rifle and stepped through. She swept the revealed corridor and finding nothing except a choice of which direction to proceed. Neathler: Any preference? ch'Ranni: Left. Always choose left. Quinn shrugged, with no obvious indication of which option was more interesting, safest or useful, it was little more than a coin toss. Contrary as ever, Neathler started to move right — until a tiny sound echoed down from the left. Existing on the edges of Quinn's hearing, it was a quiet, rhythmic tick that seemed to be coming from behind the door at the end of that corridor. With something of interest to examine, the decision was remade and the dark-haired woman made in that direction instead, taking up a position beside the door. Neathler: Ready? The Andorian answered with a nod, his antenna twitching, and Quinn swore she saw a tiny glimmer of amusement dance into Neathler's dark eyes. It was an odd comfort to see, and the hybrid nodded her readiness as well, adjusting her grip on her rifle. A light touch to the control panel, a whisper from the door and it opened. The regular beeping was much more distinct now, though peeking through Quinn couldn't see the source — and indeed she could see something distracting in its peculiarity. ch'Ranni: Huh. I guess I wasn't expecting that. Neathler shifted to see what was being stared at. They were looking into a small and cramped space, more of a storage closet than a room. But sat on the floor right in front of them, still and silent, were two Cardassians, unreactive to the door opening or the armed people pointing large weapons in their direction. They weren't even blinking, and Quinn found herself wondering if she was looking at projections, rather than people. Frowning, her hazel eyes flicked across to the side wall, where a console glowed in cool green and warm brown. Neathler, evidently, had seen it too. Neathler: Shoot them if they move. Shades can you get a ground plan or something, or data from that project? We've got a working console here. Reynolds: Yeah. ch'Ranni: Response Quinn eyed the Cardassians, wary of moving into the same room that had likely incapacitated them. She edged around the two men while Neathler prodded one of them with her rifle. The man swayed at the nudge, but otherwise didn't react. With a faint frown, she started working at the console, paging through screens of Cardassian text as she searched for answers, and it dawned on her that the sound they'd heard in the corridor had not been the idling workstation. Neathler: What do you think, drugged, frozen, paralysed? Reynolds: I'm guessing they set off one of their own traps. ::She paused, a dark thought crossing her mind.:: Though that means they were either trying not to kill whoever got in here, or something else has failed to go off. ch'Ranni: Response Working on the console, didn't see Neathler slip inside the room, her dark gaze panning across floor and wall and finally arriving on the barrels stowed in one corner. She knelt down, testing the weight of the lids, inspect their underneath, shining the light of her torch inside. Then— Neathler: Explosives! Get out! Quinn didn't need any more incentive than that. She bolted back for the door, only to find that now it wouldn't open — a trap now fully sprung, no doubt. Glancing around the small room, she tried to merge the path they'd travelled with what she'd seen from the outside and what her tricorder her showed as she scanned the interior. Pieces interlocked and she turned, pointing to a nondescript section of the wall. Taking a step toward it, she talked as she adjusted the settings on her phaser. Reynolds: The corners of that panel: one each, setting seven, two-second burst. Should blow it clean out. On three— TBC... -- Quinn "Shades" Reynolds Starfleet Defector The Skarbek T238401QR0 ------ (( Part 2 )) ((Outpost, Omicron Noctae IIIa)) There was a blast of heat and the roar of flames, and Quinn felt the concussion slam into her back, throwing her forward, clean off her feet. She arced through the air and hit the powdered, grey dirt — and then there was nothing. No pain, no raining debris, no cries from her comrades. Even the wheeze of her breath through her rebreather was gone, yet she was having no trouble breathing. Cautious and slow, she unclasped her hands from the back of her head, peering around as she eased herself back up on to her feet. Neathler and Jona were frozen mid-movement, the bloom of fire as still as though it was a painting. Dust had been thrown out ahead of the blast, sparkling and motionless in the air. Up in the sky, Quinn could see a shuttle silhouetted against the stars. It was a moment frozen in time — except she wasn't. As she looked around, a frown of confusion carving ever deeper into her forehead, Quinn spied a red trim around her cuffs, the belt and tunic of a Starfleet Admiral instead of her jacket. She was a Starfleet Admiral. That was why she couldn't hear her rebreather. She wasn't wearing one. And this was— ???: Hello. She whirled around. The voice came from a fetching woman, with pale skin, feminine curves and tumbling red hair. She wore the same uniform as Quinn, complete with the pips of a rear admiral, and as their eyes met, she gave an amused grin. Stood with her weight over one hip, arms crossed, she chuckled. ???: You must be wondering what's going on. Reynolds: The thought had crossed my mind. ???: Well, you see I'm in a bit of pickle. My little experiment isn't going so well and— Quinn's heart was thumping in her chest, despite her stony exterior. The last thing she remembered was giving the order to spool up the QSD in order to head back to Tyrellia. Xerix had been at the helm, the new operations chief ch'Ranni sat next to him at his station. Beside her, she and Jo had been discussing the quite frankly ridiculous topic of how to get first dibs on Nkai's bakes now that he was in his new post. Then as surely as a scene change in a holonovel, she'd been stood on Peshkova as the sun set, not a Starfleet Admiral but a Starfleet defector, watching Walter eulogise people who most certainly weren't dead. Not dead at all, just moved on to new assignments, alive and hopefully happy in their postings. Reynolds: Your what? Who are you? ???: My experiment. I'm a... what do you call it? Scientist. I'm doing science. Trying to figure out how you tick. Or perhaps it's why you tick. ::She offered a brilliant smile.:: Anyway, you can call me Q. Reynolds: ...Q. Q: Yes. I assume I need no further introduction. Quinn didn't answer, cold radiating across her shoulders and down her back. She'd never encountered a Q before, but there was someone on her crew who had. Was that why this one was here? Whatever the reason, they were in trouble — Starfleet had encountered Q who didn't acknowledge the value of mortal life. Virtually omnipotent and immortal, they simply didn't understand it. Or perhaps didn't care about it. Who paused to think before swatting a fly? Q: Well, come along. Reynolds: Wha— The Q snapped her fingers, and the moon vanished. In its place was stark, cold metal; a corridor lined with cells in the brutal architecture that the Cardassians favoured. The forcefield on the one she was facing was active, though in that frozen moment of time she couldn't hear the tell-tale hum of energy Her gaze, however, was entirely beyond it. All she could see was the tall, broad German sat on a bench, cradling his head in his hands. Her heart banged behind her ribs, even as her eyes told her he was unharmed. Untouched. So far. Q: You see, I let you all make your own choices in my maze, but some of them were... disappointing. What good are you on the moon when he's here? And that other you should be on the moon, don't you think? With the other blonde? ::She paused.:: Why do you have so many blondes? Do you collect them? Quinn turned to deliver the retort forming on her lips. It was lost as the air rushed out of her lungs, as surely as though she'd been punched in the stomach. The cell opposite was also occupied; Valesha, bearing subtle signs of Cardassian interrogation, pale to the point of translucence, raw-eyed as she stared vacantly across the corridor, her head on Johns' chest. Oh, Johns. He wore the not-so-subtle signs of Cardassian interrogation, bruises and cuts covering what skin she could see. But he was ashen, the tell-tale pallor of the dead, and ice flooded Quinn's veins. Cheeky, smiling Johns who laughed and loved and managed to make himself worth much more than the trouble he caused. How could he be dead? Why was he dead? The universe could be unfair, but this... this had intention. Reynolds: ::Quietly,:: What have you done? Q: Me? Nothing. ::She walked through the forcefield as though it wasn't there, crouching down beside the pair.:: The Cardassians, on the other hand... Well, I'm sure I'd find it simply awful if I cared about it. But I'm a dispassionate observer, ::she waved an elegant, disinterested hand,:: or whatever. Objectivity and all that. Ice became fire, grief turned to anger. She bit down on it, refusing to lose control, but there was a flare in her eyes and a flame in her voice as she answered. Reynolds: You put us here, you're responsible. The Cardassians didn't kill him, you did. Pouting, the Q sprung up to her feet, red hair bouncing around her shoulder. She answered with a petulant tone of voice, as though she was being told off by a parent. Except the Q didn't have parents. Perhaps that explained a lot. Perhaps it explained nothing. Q: I'm not killing anyone! It's not my fault if you're all a bunch of savages. Reynolds: You— The redhead stepped forward and placed a finger on her lips, and suddenly the Starfleet Admiral found she couldn't speak. It was as though her vocal cords had simply vanished — and given she was dealing with a Q, perhaps they had. Q: Shh. ::She smiled and patted Quinn on the head.:: There there. It's all for a worthy cause. Science, remember? I know you love science. Unable to speak, Quinn glared instead. She may as well have not bothered, for all the impact it made. The Q simply stepped back, snapped her fingers and they were aboard the Skarbek in that mad tangle of technology, sweat and elbow grease that MacFarlane called main engineering. Erin was there, a darkening bruise on her forehead and blood matting her blonde hair, up to her elbows in the EPS flow control to the cloak. Q: Here. This is where you should be. Makes more sense, don't you think? Then you can have all your interesting feelings knowing he's up there, ::she swept her hands up,:: and Other You can have all her interesting feelings knowing she's down there, ::she pointed down,:: and it just makes for better results. Reynolds: You can't just change the variables of an experiment half-way through. The words spilled out before she realised she had her voice back. A thought of a tactic, voiced without pause. If the Q considered herself a scientist, maybe she could be convinced to behave like a vaguely decent one. Arguments of morals and ethics were liable to fall on deaf ears, but perhaps if she thought she was being a bad scientist... Q: Can't I? Oh, that's a bother. What can I do? She didn't hold out much hope that the tactic would work, but Quinn had to try. There was no way to brute force a Q into doing what you wanted, words and trickery were the only option and even then it was a limited chance of success. And she was hardly a diplomat. Reynolds: If it's clear you're not going to get usable results, you should abort it. Otherwise, it's a waste of time and resources. Q: Oh, you are clever. :: She chuckled and booped — booped — Quinn on the nose.:: Full marks for the attempt. But we'd best get back to it. Do try to be interesting. She smiled, clicked her fingers, and— TBC... -- Quinn "Shades" Reynolds Starfleet Defector The Skarbek T238401QR0 ----- (( Part 3 )) (( OOC: For clarification — as far as everyone's concerned IC, Erin's always been with the planet away team, and Quinn never left the Skarbek. )) ((Outpost, Omicron Noctae IIIa)) Neathler: Ready? The Andorian answered with a nod, his antenna twitching, and Erin swore she saw a tiny glimmer of amusement dance into Neathler's dark eyes. It was an odd comfort to see, and the hybrid nodded her readiness as well, adjusting her grip on her rifle. A light touch to the control panel, a whisper from the door and it opened. The regular beeping was much more distinct now, though peeking through Erin couldn't see the source — and indeed she could see something distracting in its peculiarity. ch'Ranni: Huh. I guess I wasn't expecting that. Neathler shifted to see what was being stared at. They were looking into a small and cramped space, more of a storage closet than a room. But sat on the floor right in front of them, still and silent, were two Cardassians, nonreactive to the door opening or the armed people pointing large weapons in their direction. They weren't even blinking, and Erin found herself wondering if she was looking at projections, rather than people. Frowning, her hazel eyes flicked across to the side wall, where a console glowed in cool green and warm brown. Neathler, evidently, had seen it too. Neathler: Shoot them if they move. Vines can you get a ground plan or something, or data from that project? We've got a working console here. E. Reynolds: Yeah. ch'Ranni: Response Erin eyed the Cardassians, wary of moving into the same room that had likely incapacitated them. She edged around the two men while Neathler prodded one of them with her rifle. The man swayed at the nudge, but otherwise didn't react. With a faint frown, she started working at the console, paging through screens of Cardassian text as she searched for answers, and it dawned on her that the sound they'd heard in the corridor had not been the idling workstation. Neathler: What do you think, drugged, frozen, paralysed? E. Reynolds: I'm guessing they set off one of their own traps. ::She paused, a dark thought crossing her mind.:: Though that means they were either trying not to kill whoever got in here, or something else has failed to go off. ch'Ranni: Response Working on the console, didn't see Neathler slip inside the room, her dark gaze panning across floor and wall and finally arriving on the barrels stowed in one corner. She knelt down, testing the weight of the lids, inspect their underneath, shining the light of her torch inside. Then— Neathler: Explosives! Get out! Erin didn't need any more incentive than that. She bolted back for the door, only to find that now it wouldn't open — a trap now fully sprung, no doubt. Glancing around the small room, she tried to merge the path they'd travelled with what she'd seen from the outside and what her tricorder her showed as she scanned the interior. Pieces interlocked and she turned, pointing to a nondescript section of the wall. Taking a step toward it, she talked as she adjusted the settings on her phaser. E. Reynolds: The corners of that panel: one each, setting seven, two-second burst. Should blow it clean out. On three, two, one, fire— Their phasers drilled into three of the corners of the building, the differential in pressure between interior and exterior doing the rest of the work for them. The panel screeched and buckled, and while it wasn't quite enough to rip it completely asunder, there was room for them to escape through. Neathler/ch'Ranni: Response Then she was running, sprinting out of the building and into the vast, barren expanse of the moon, her breath rasping loud in her ears as it was processed by the rebreather. There was a blast of heat and the roar of flames, and Erin felt the concussion slam into her back, throwing her forward and clean from her feet. Arcing through the air, she hit the powdered, grey dirt with enough force to drive all the air from her lungs, and she felt a lightning strike of pain as ribs snapped where she landed on her rifle. It pulled a strangled cry of pain from her lungs and she rolled onto her back, tears burning in her eyes. Through the mist they created, she could see a shuttle silhouetted against the sky, recognising the familiar shape of the Inayat-Khan. Thank heavens for small mercies, though her sigh of relief was cut off by another guttural moan of pain. E. Reynolds: Is... Is everyone alive? Neathler/ch'Ranni: Response E. Reynolds: Yeah, I— Ribs. Broken. Ouch. ::She grimaced and breathed out a groan.:: Much ouch. Neathler/ch'Ranni: Response -- Erin "Vines" Reynolds Botanist & Sometime Engineer The Skarbek T238401QR0
  3. 1 point
    ((Officer’s Quarters, Deck 4 - USS Juneau)) @GhantXerix approached his assigned quarters at a slow and methodical pace. With one hand, he was balancing a tray of food, and with the other he was dragging a suitcase which bore the scars of mistreatment at the hands of a brute. At his approach, the doors should have opened. But the Juneau was quickly proving that should means little on a brand new vessel. He used his knee to hit the door chime, and before the doors could part he let out a groan of disappointment upon recognizing the mind behind the door. Xerix: ::dryly:: Good evening, Commander. @Geoffrey Teller smirked as he turned away from the door controls and went back to the lone chair in the mostly featureless room. One wall was dominated by a pair of bunks, a design not much changed in decades and meant for the most spartan of quarters. The other wall featured a fold out chair and desk console for getting a bit of work done, but anyone attempting to dismount the beds would either need to be a qualified gymnast or on very intimate terms with the person sitting down. Teller: Evening there Lieutenant. Xerix: I realize this is a skeleton crew, but man the odds were not in my favor for bunkies Teller: Same here….I’ve been busy in the Engineering bay and didn’t get myself to the quartermaster till almost all the bunk assignments were taken up. Have to say, surprised you’re sleeping alone. Who’d you piss off this time? Teller didn’t have to be an empath to see that he’d struck a nerve. Ghant said nothing to that, sitting down on the floor with his tray of food, appetite suddenly missing. Teller: So how is the Celestial, by the by? Be happy to give it another tuneup in my free time. Xerix: ::Suddenly thrilled with an idea, he ate as he spoke :: Oh it’s fine. I’ve installed a new lock on the hatch and the sound emitter is smashed up beautifully Teller: Oh the speakers? For the shanties? ::Teller chuckled to himself:: Forgot about that one. Guess that means the other thing...well, I’m sure you’ll find it soon enough. Ghant gestured with his fork like it was a weapon, pointing a bite of food at the enemy. Xerix: So help me, Teller. If you’ve messed with my ship again... Teller held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Teller: Look, the fact of the matter is we’ve got to work together or this closet :Teller extended his arms and was able to touch both walls easily:: will feel even more cramped. So I say truce - we got off on the wrong foot, lets try to put it behind us, at least until this project is wrapped up and we’re both a few lighyears away from one another. Xerix: ..Fine. Truce it is….How’s the Veritas gang? Teller: Good by and large - been a busy few months. How about your new crew? Gorkon’s certainly a pretty ship. Xerix: It’s a great ship...I’ve had a bit of a hard time adjusting to be honest. Geoff gasped in feigned shock. Teller: You? ::He smirked:: But you make friends so easily? Xerix: ::He looked pointedly at the engineer:: I thought a truce meant we stop taking shots at one another. Teller: Sorry sorry, force of habit - last one I swear. Seriously, you always struck me as a competent enough officer - what’s tripping you out? Captain over there have a weird pet or something? Xerix: She has a few. But it’s me, honestly. At the academy and even on the Veritas, I felt like the big boat in the harbor. On the Gorkon, they make certain I know my place. It’s caused me to behave in ways I’m not proud of. Ghant pushed the tray of food away from him, suddenly uninterested in eating. Teller: Well, that’s one good thing at least. Xerix: What is? Teller: You’re thinking about whatever it was you did. Fair few people I know don’t think you’re capable of that. Might be a sign of maturity if you’re not careful. Xerix: Four forbid it. Do you think this ship is going to hold up long enough for it to matter? Teller: Pfft ::Teller rapped the wall with his fist:: I think I can keep the nacelles attached if you don’t bounce us off a planet. Xerix: I doubt I’ll have the opportunity. Tiria Hamasaki seems firmly attached to that helm console. :: He stood and stretched:: I think I’m going to call it a night. Which bed is mine? Teller: Why don’t you take the top, I’ve got a little work left to do before I stretch out. I’ll try to keep the noise to a minimum. Xerix: You sure? I could give you a boost if you need? Teller snorted and rolled his eyes. Teller: If you’re bored up on the bridge I could use someone down in Engineering to help me reach the top shelves. Xerix: I’ll check my schedule. Gnight, dude. Teller: Nighto. Ghant made his way into the top bunk and pulled the privacy partition closed. Teller smiled and went back to his PADDwork, absentmindedly humming a few bars of Roll The Old Chariot Along. Within a few moments, he was tapping his foot on the deck as well. Xerix: As much as you know I love a good musical performance, might be we call an intermission until another time? Teller: Huh? ::Teller looked up with a smile:: Oh sure buddy, sure. Have a pleasant rest. Within a few minutes, the tight quarters were filled with two sounds. The tapping of a jaunty beat on a PADD, and the grinding of Ghant Xerix’s teeth. ((The next morning- zero four thirty)) Ghant woke early, early enough to hear Geoff still snoring underneath him. He rose quietly and dressed, then gathered his belongings, and Teller’s. He schlepped them all down to the unfinished cabin at the end of the corridor, where he had left one space suit the night before . He brought the suit back to the cabin where he was pleased to see his bunk mate still firmly unconscious. Leaving the suit in easy access, he placed a Betazoid chameleon rose next to it. Then he walked smugly towards the mess hall. Coffee and donuts were needed on this morning. =============================== Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller Chief Engineer USS Juneau - NX-99801 Captain Oddas A., Commanding V239509GT0 & Lieutenant JG Ghant Xerix Helm officer USS Juneau V239505GX0
  4. 1 point
    Absolutely love the feigning the character does! Great job @Kiliak Jo ((en route to Deep Space 26, low orbit over Paldor II)) Absentmindedly ignoring the pratter of the jarheads and sacrificial security drones crowding the small shuttle space, Perkins set his finely-tuned wonder of a mind to the task at hand. How was he going to singlehandedly rescue this station and the planet below from imminent disaster? The uncooperative nature of the Atlantis company of misfits only made clear his burden as the lone champion called to serve in this dark hour. He stared out the window and mused, clasping his hands together wisely, bringing the tips of his index fingers together just beneath his nose to indicate his status of deep contemplation. Just as he was gathering together the last details of a perfect plan, he was snapped from this reverie at the mention of weapons fire. Serala: Remember, check your fire this is a high collateral engagement zone. If it's not shooting at you, don't shoot at it. Not without confirmation. Perkins: Yes, please double-check your "trigger happiness." I have many friends here. They soon disembarked the shuttle and boarded the station. At the sight of the familiar Chon architecture, Perkins felt overwhelmed with relief to finally be back home, at last, he had escaped from the clutches of these Atlantean nincompoops. Though it was true that they desperately needed his help, he would not go back if they dragged him kicking and screaming. Solana: Contact, four o'clock. Looks like a dozen all scrambling to get those support craft off the deck. I don't see any Valcarians. oO These idiots can't even keep proper time! It's still morning by the standard Federation clock. Simply unbelievable. Oo Kiax: I wouldn’t be surprised if they were controlling more critical areas of the station. Operations, Engineering, Fusion Cores, Auxiliary Fire Control, Central Damage Control… With direct access to the computer core I can probably get us a significant foothold. Perkins: That can be arranged. I can direct you through some of the more basic processes, get you a username and a password, before we ultimately get to the more complex stuff at which point I will naturally take- Calasio: =/\= Welcome to the newly acquired Imperial Relief Station Alpha-One. =/\= oO Excuse me? Oo Kiax: =/\= You mean the Federation Starbase Deep Space Twenty-Six? =/\= oO Hmpfh. Indeed. Oo Calasio: =/\= I wish to speak to the one in charge of your team. =/\= Perkins: =/\= Yes of course, I am-- =/\= Serala: =/\= This is Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis. I am in command of this team. =/\= oO Rude! Fine. I'll let her believe she's in charge if its so important to her. Oo Calasio: =/\= This is Commander Yanek Calasio of the Imperial Navy. I am sure you are aware of the situation we all find ourselves in. I wish to make an arrangement. =/\= Serala: =/\= Well, Commander. I’m actually not fully aware of the situation. I know this station is plummeting to the planet below it and unless we can find a way to stop it, everyone onboard, not to mention millions on the planet, will be killed. But I have no idea what has been happening here for the last several months. Without a debriefing, I am afraid I am at a disadvantage in any sort of bargaining or decisions to make agreements. Of course, we did bring a substantial combat force and I would image that some of the Starfleet personnel that didn’t make it off are still here somewhere. I could always fight my way to them, join forces, then retake the station from you. =/\= Calasio: =/\= Now, Commander...you are in no real position to do anything but listen to me. You have just arrived. I have been here for weeks. Do you really think we have not created a battlefield prepared to our advantage? I assure you this is not a fight you want to wage. The station is already falling apart. On top of that, we've rigged bulkheads with explosives, set snares throughout the access tubes, prepared tricks and traps level by level. I've read up on your ship, the Atlantis. I know your Captain Brell is a man of peace. Of discourse. He would listen. I suggest you do the same... =/\= Perkins: =/\= Ha! Brell isn't even- =/\= Serala: =/\= Captain Brell is not here. I am. And I do things my way. I will answer to Captain Brell later, if needs be. If he wanted a peaceful resolution, he should have come himself instead of sending his Chief Security and Tactical Officer. =/\= oO Ahh ha, I see. The Romulan wants to keep my presence here covert, her secret Ace in the Hole. The Ringer. The Showstopper. Got it. All right, okay, I'll play along with your little gambit, Miss Siracha. Oo Serala: =/\= Still, there is something to be said for a peaceful solution. Fighting our way through could be costly. You haven’t held your position as long as you have by being unprepared. So, what is your proposal. =/\= Calasio: =/\= It’s quite simple, really. This station is plummeting to its doom. We have seized control of this station at quite at high cost and have no intention of losing it now. I propose to allow you and your ship to assist with evacuating all non-Valcarian personnel from the station. You can use this landing bay for those purposes. We will also coordinate with Atlantis to find a way to stop the station from hitting the planet below, possibly even relocate away from the planet a distance. Once everyone is cleared out and the station is safe, we will take full control of the station and the space around it. Assuming the station doesn’t get destroyed before then, I estimate you should be able to get everyone off in about 36 hours time. Anyone remaining onboard after that forfeits their life and will become subjects of the Empire. =/\= Perkins mind began to wander. oO Say, where did that infernal marine with the attitude problem get off to? Oo Serala: =/\= A very well thought out request, Commander. I have a request of my own first. I need to speak to the Starfleet Officer in charge here on the station. I need to get a sitrep before I can make any decisions which might affect them. I am sure you can understand that? =/\= Calasio: =/\= Your request is understandable, Commander. However, we have no direct communications established with the Starfleet personnel. In fact, station communications are down, which is why I have had to rig this form of communication for us. Still, I will try to get a message through and have them come down to you. =/\= Siracha spoke quietly into her commset, then pointed now to another marine, the big one who had yelled at the problematic one earlier. Perkins didn't understand why she was pointing. Was his fly unzipped or something? He held up his hands to indicate the ineffectiveness of her communication. She pointed again, more pointedly, as the others gathered behind the marine. Perkins narrowed his eyes. Did she want him to keep an eye on this goon to make sure he didn't shoot any bystanders? Yes, that must be it. Good call. Perkins tailed the big monkey, ready to disarm him in a flash if the day's duties came to that. Serala: =/\= Commander Perkins. You know this station better than anyone here. I want you on lead. Get us to Operations. We’re taking that back one way or another. That might give us a better position to bargain from. =/\= Perkins: =/\= Ah, I see. Of course, of course. I will lead the way. ::pushing himself to the fore of the others:: Company, aa-t-tention! Follow me! And-a march one two hut one two, that's it, lively now! =/\= (( Short timeskip )) oO Wait. No, it's the other way. Oo Hardly his fault. He was only rarely down in these sections. He turned around and doubled back, offering the others his charming smile as they continued to follow his lead. This sublevel was really more of a Lieutenant Junior kind of working environment. And all these corridors look the same anyways. Soon they reached a corner, and Perkins was sure that this time it would lead them into Operations. Birmor: Halt. Who goes there? Serala: Lieutenant Commander Serala, Federation Starship Atlantis. Birmor: Sorry friend. This area is off limits to non Valcarians. Serala: We’re here with permission of Commander Calasio. Birmor: Really? Serala: We have some things to discuss and the form of communication we were using was insufficient. Since we’re here under a truce, perhaps you would be kind enough to escort us to him so we can speak in person? Birmor: Sorry Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis. Standing orders are to only allow Valcarians past this point. ::She made an obvious effort to look at the group of Starfleet Officers.:: And you don’t much look like Valcarians. Serala: And would he be less pleased if his favorite :: quickly checking her rank :: corporal failed to let us past and it resulted in a full-scale invasion from our ship? Just because of a misunderstanding? Wouldn’t it be better to take us to him and let him decide what to do with us? Birmor: Excuse me a moment. ::he momentarily vanished:: Perkins: Do you want me to talk to him? I'm great with people. Serala: Birmor: Well Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis, it seems you have been granted passage. oO Hmpfh! Could at least get her name right. I'll let it slide though, in the name of diplomacy. Oo Perkins: Took you long enough. Let's head out, troops. McKnight: Let's move. Serala / Toh’jak: Response Birmor: It was my absolute pleasure. Commander Calasio is down in the Engineering Section on Level 46. As this used to be your station, I’m sure you know the way. Perkins: Er, yes of course. That's, uhm, fastest way is those stairs back there, or...? Serala / Toh’jak: Response Out of nowhere, bolts of blaster fire. One blast struck Perkins right in his good shoulder. He went down, collapsing into a crumpled pile immediately, a tactic to shield himself from possible continued fire as his eyes wetted with sudden tears. McKnight: AMBUSH! oO Is this it? Am I going to die? Here? Just in my moment of liberation? Who will help all these people if I must perish now? Oo Birmor: STAND DOWN! CEASE FIRE. CEASE FIRE. Perkins: It's a trick! I'm hit! They shot me! Ambush! Betrayal! Shoot back, you worthless imbeciles! McKnight: Cease fire! Cease fire! Secure the area! Serala / Toh’jak: Response Clutching his wound, likely a mortal wound, Perkins heard a disembodied voice nearby. His vision was blurry. Was it... his father? The voice of God? McKnight: You alright, Commander? Perkins: I'm so sorry. ::coughing:: I don't know if I'll make it. You must go on... without me... ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Perkins Engineer at Large Deep Space 26 A239509KJ0 ---------------------------------------------- courtesy of ---------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Kiliak Jo Asst. Chief Engineer USS Atlantis A239509KJ0 -----------------------------------------------
  5. 1 point
    ((Starbase 118 - Crew Quarters - Malko’s Room)) As if led by his nose like a bloodhound, the commander went straight for the replicator service panel. No doubt he smelled the slightly sweet odour. Malko began to panic, clasping his hands together in an attempt to compose the anxiety flitting across his skin. Hael: You ain’ has no issues with the replicator either has ya? Malko: Issues? None. Hael: You-uh ::he pointed at the signs of tinkering on the wall.:: doin’ yer own maintenance? The Denobulan was sweating through his grin. Hael was onto him. How did he know? Malko had lost his cool less than an hour ago and not a soul had been witness. And he was about to lose it again. Malko: Oh. Oh, that? I had to reboot the thing once or twice, and I didn't have a screwdriver. I'm a counsellor, not an engineer! ::he chuckled nervously:: Hael: Ya’know Therr be folks stationed ‘ere to do jus’ this kind’a thing. Tha’n ways you ain’ gotta do it. ::he chuckled as he began to take scans.:: Malko: Is, that against the law? Hael: No’ real’y. Folk always try’na fix their own stuff. Jus’ mentionin’ tha’ therr be folks ‘ere to do jus’ this thing, so you ain’ inconveincin’ anyone, none. Malko: ::gulp:: Commander, I... I have a confession to make… Hael: ::he leaned to one side.:: Real’y ani’ no thing. If’n sumthin’ broke we can fix’r no problem. Malko: I'm the one you're looking for. Hael: I’m’a sor’y Doc… You wanna run tha’ past me one more time - only.. ::he put his hands up.:: a bit slower, eh? oO Is he coercing a confession out of me? Oo Malko: I made a mistake and I was too ashamed to tell anyone, I'm sure you know - why else would you be here? Hael took a few seconds to retrace the words Malko had spilled forth. Hael: Well’s.. Uh… We can ge’ through tha’ .. ::he mumbled.:: mos’ likely. Malko: Yeah? What sort of trouble am I facing? Hael: ? Malko sat in his office chair, facing the Commander who was kneeled in front of the panel. This was a different counselling that what usually occurred in Malko's office. Malko: Well, you see... I was trying to research recipes - to make a dessert I could bring to the crew that would wow everyone. I did a preliminary search for some award-winning cakes, and was having the replicator make me some samples. He covered his forehead in embarrassment. Malko: And when I asked for Chocolate Infinity Cake, the replicator must have misunderstood -because it began making 'infinite chocolate cake'. I attempted to verbally cancel the process, but it was locked in some sort of request loop - leeching energy from the floor. The pot-lights dimmed in my office menacingly. At first I tried catching the fountain of cake in whatever empty vessels I had around the office, but they quickly filled. By that time the cake had begun spreading across the floor. I rolled my pant legs and waded through the molten flow, armed with a decorative letter opener. By the time I got the access panel open, well, the cake was threatening breaching the room. I wasn't sure what I was looking at in there, but I steeled myself and flipped a bunch of breakers until I saw the cook light die out - and finally the cascade of cake ceased. Shovel by shovel, I packed the viscous maroon sludge into the refuse chute - and attempted to scrub any traces out of my office and skin with diluted cleaners I stole from the sanitation closet. Ultimately, I was able to dispose of the cake batter, but I could not disguise the incident or my shame. Please - have mercy. Hael: ? Malko: Pardon? Hael: ? Malko: Sir? I - I don't understand. Hael: ? Malko: Then how? Hael: ? TBC
  6. 1 point
    ((Peshkova Colony, Demilitarised Zone)) ::The upbeat tunes of a whistled song joined the nature sounds, as Graham walked next to the antigrav unit, his eyes on the road, making sure there weren’t any obstacles for the unit to pass. It would be a huge shame if the cart would tumble and all the food stored on it would fall on the dirt road.:: ::In his own personal opinion, he was a bit late, courtesy to his Andorian misses who had insisted to add a few more particular dishes on the cart. But he was lucky, the ship was still there, the silhouette of the Condor Class ship clearly visible. It wasn’t the first time he lay eyes on the ship and as long as the ship was space worthy it wouldn’t be the last.:: ::He kicked a little stone, before he pushed a button on the unit, picking up the pace a bit. He started whistling another merrily song as he approached the open spot in front of the ship, clearing his throat as he looked at the people sitting nearby the remainder of what had been a large campfire last night.:: ::Seeing the flames in the distance the night before had been his and his misses cue to get up early this morning and started preparing breakfast for these folks. They were fighting for a cause he supported and he figured it was the least he could do.:: Graham: Breakfast is served ladies and gentlemen. ::He called out to those at the campfire, already sipping something that was being kept warm at a smaller campfire, looking at their faces and as expected, he recognized a couple of them but there was also at least one new recruit. Not that he bothered to learn their names. Graham knew full well the next time the ship would land, part of the crew would already have been replaced by other faces, other species.:: Graham: We’ve got fresh baked bread, rolls and whatnot. ::Nodding towards the baskets on the side of the cart.:: Take your pick. ::He lifted the different lids from the different food warmers, revealing all different kind of dishes. Baked sausages, bacon and eggs, made from fresh collected goose eggs that very same morning, for those who had to wash away a hangover. A few more lighter and veggie based dishes for the non-carnivores. Yogurt and fresh cheese for those who had a rather sensitive stomach after all the drinking they had done the night before. There was something for everyone.:: ::A loud siren suddenly sounded as he pushed a button on the cart, once he was done with his preparations, a call to those inside the ship, to come and get some non-replicated food in to them, before they went on their way again. Who knew when would be their next well cooked meal.:: ::He took a few steps back and sat down on a big boulder, nodding here and there towards those coming from inside the ship, as he recognized a few faces from people traversing his fields as they went up to the Memorial Rock each time they visited the Colony. They left his crops and fields alone and he respected them for that, while in return he made sure no one was doing any harm upon the shrines setup on Memorial Rock in their absence.:: ::Graham leaned back, he felt like he owed these people something. It was only thanks to them, he knew what had happened with his son. Contrary to many others who had children out there fighting for the cause, he knew what had become of him, while other parents would never find out their offspring were still alive or not. And ever since that day he and his misses had promised each other to serve breakfast to the crew each time they visited. As if he was paying off a debt, he knew he didn't have.:: Farmer Graham Food/Breakfast Provider Sympathiser to the Cause Simmed by: Lieutenant Samira Neathler Assistant Chief of Security USS Gorkon G239508SN0
  7. 1 point
    Just have to say, I think I speak for all of us Atlanteans when I say he's never been more deserving of a punch in the face. Or being beamed into space. Great job as always @Kiliak Jo ((ooc: I offered to write for the incomparable Mr. Perkins some months ago, so I figure I'm up. Uh, obviously I love you all, but I'm writing as Mr. Perkins below, so... rest assured it's all in good fun... I recommend you go easy on the tags ahead though, I'm not trying to upstage your mission with 'local knowledge' if you get my drift)) ((Guest Quarters, USS Atlantis)) Out the window of his cramped, temporary quarters, Lt. Commander Perkins stared at the broken shape of the place he called home and watched the flurry of frantic traffic buzzing away from it. He sipped his water, then shook his head and rubbed at his shoulder, rotating the cuff -- at times it still ached from the heroic shot he had suffered in the line of duty on that fateful day months ago. That nurse they employed on board, the insufferably bubbly Avy or whatever, kept saying she could find nothing wrong with it now, but what did that prove besides a distinct inability to do her job? Serala: =/\= Serala to Lieutenant Commander Perkins. Report to Main Shuttlebay on the double. And bring standard equipment for an away mission, including a Type II Phaser. We launch in 30 minutes. =/\= Perkins: =/\= I am at your service and so pleased to be invited. And I'm even to be allowed a phaser. Capital. =/\= It only further proved his case of how fundamentally lazy, how abundantly incompetent the Atlantis crew was that they could be expected to layabout for half an hour before embarking on such a crucial mission as saving his home station. He endeavored therefore to arrive in half the allotted time just to make a point, and of course, he succeeded. Perkins: First assigned to live under Romulan space and now here I am serving under a Romulan. Never thought I'd see the day, but life is full of surprises, isn't it? Serala: Let me be perfectly clear. I don’t like you and I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you - and trust me I would like to find out how far that is - but you did serve on this station and so your knowledge of it is going to be important to me. You’re coming with us, but I will be keeping a very close eye on you. Be careful, Commander. I am just looking for a reason to throw you in the brig. I still think you have been involved with almost everything that has happened to us since even before the bot attack. Perkins maintained the inscrutable yet undeniably attractive expression he preferred to wear. He had already been confined to quarters twice since arriving aboard, once on some trumped-up charges from a jealous officer and later due to the impossibly-thin skin of an Atlantis crewmember after all he had tried to do was offer some helpful and constructive criticism. Such frequent and flagrant displays of Atlantean stupidity reminded him of a conversation he had once shared with a colleague, that perhaps incompetence was the most perfect cover-up for acts against the Federation. Perkins: My oh my. Serious charges. I'm sure that such a professional and... charming Starfleet officer such as yourself would not offer these creative conspiracy theories without a substantial body of -::ahem:: proof? Serala: No, I can’t prove anything. And that is why you are still walking free and wearing that uniform. And as long as you are, you will conduct yourself in a manner appropriate to a Starfleet officer. And for now, that means helping us on this mission. Perkins: Despite your personal attacks, I will of course be the better man and offer you my full and invaluable support, ::he counted her pips:: ...Lieutenant Commander? oO Really? Starfleet isn't the organization it used to be. Oo Serala: Very good. How many times had he and his team helpfully gone the extra light-year to patch up this sorry excuse of a ship after the merry band aboard saw fit to go gallivanting off into another speck of trouble? This was his thanks. He rubbed the nose of his bridge to stave off another of the headaches he'd been suffering since unceremoniously being forced aboard. He couldn't decide whether the problem here was either a shallow-minded ingratitude or an utter lack of discipline, probably both. Honestly, he wouldn't be all too surprised if these "rescue operations" ended with his station being blown to smithereens. More space trash to float about the Expanse. At that moment, the rest of the assault team entered the bay and he could hear the heavy thumping footprints of some neanderthal stomping over from the shuttle area. Logan: What is he doing here ? Perkins turned and looked over the somewhat-smaller-than-expected marine-clad buffoon, scanning him up and down as he puffed out his chest like a gorilla and pointed. He couldn't recall if they had ever met before. He also couldn't particularly care. Perkins: A little thing called "my duty." Perhaps you've heard of the concept, Mr...? Logan: QUIET! You lost the right to speak a long time ago ! oO And you seem to have rather lost the ability. Oo Serala: As you were, Captain Logan! He’s coming with us. Logan: I'd trust a first year cadet more than him any day. Perkins: That's little cause to behave like one. Logan: I SAID QUIET !!! Serala: ENARRAIN LOGAN, FAEHOR IUT’FEHILL TEMOHRIE AIHR’RRHAAREVHA!! (CAPTAIN ...STAND DOWN AND THAT IS AN ORDER!!) The grumpy Romulan and the Marine with the loose screw stared each other down for a moment. Perkins checked the time. Was this how the new Captain Torham intended to run a ship? Brell was not ideal, but this... Perkins could not understand why Starfleet Command had not elected to select his own commission from the pool of applicants to serve as the new Atlantis Captain and whip these fools into shape at last. But looking around, he considered now whether he had been in fact blessed by being passed over. oO Honestly, they can hardly board a shuttle without a fight breaking out. Oo Serala: He is coming with us, Captain and that is final. I trust this will not be a problem for you? Logan:: Turning his gaze back to the Engineer:: No Ma'am. I won’t let the cause of our problem prevent me from helping to fix it. Kiax: Apologies for my tardiness. I had to show our new crewmate here the way to the shuttlebay… ::She said, jokingly.:: Whatever he did or did not do isn’t our problem right now. Let’s just get underway and sort the blame later. We’ve got a planet to save… The Marine Captain pushed his way through the pair of hot tempers and turned on the unhinged soldier, who didn't seem inclined to back down. McKnight: Captain Logan, stand down. You're speaking to a superior officer. Perkins: And so at last, welcome Miss Kix. Do you have no need to voice a problem against my presence here as well? ::Perkins remembered Shadydust from her role cross-examining him as Killiak's Advocate, and he had read in the crew sheets about the transfer of the Kix symbiont into this young, supposedly "brilliant" Trill. But if Durrmont was any indication, "brilliant" had an entirely different meaning aboard this ship.:: Kiax: No Sir, I’m just eager to get underway. The longer we spend arguing about what got us here, the less time we have to get myself, and SOUL here, to the station’s computer core and figure out a way to get it back to where it belongs. Logan: Response Captain McKnight turned back to Serala. McKnight: Commander, we have a mission to get started on. Best not to keep my men antsy Serala: You’re correct, Captain. I just needed to make sure everyone here understands were all on the same team. If anyone...anyone! … feels that they can’t work within those guidelines they should leave now. Anyone? No? Good. The two Marines had a little talk, probably about what exactly the process of a court martial would look like after assaulting a superior. The paranoid Romulan gave them a few minutes to finish, then decided they had waited long enough. Serala: ALRIGHT! LOAD UP! DEPARTURE IN TWO MINUTES. YHFEV! (MOVE IT!) Perkins: Finally. After you, gentlemen. Chop chop. Hero-work to do. ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Perkins Engineer at Large Deep Space 26 A239509KJ0 ---------------------------------------------- courtesy of ---------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Kiliak Jo Asst. Chief Engineer USS Atlantis A239509KJ0 -----------------------------------------------
  8. 1 point
    I actually almost feel bad for him. He isn't actually guilty of treason. Just being an absolute tool... And everyone on the Atlantis just keeps being so damn mean to him...😆
  9. 1 point
    ((OOC: My sincere compliments to @Wil Ukinix !)) ((Room 04-3417 – G’var/Ukinix quarters, USS Veritas)) Standing in the mirror with only a towel wrapped around his waist, Wil rubbed his fingers over his jawline to ensure his skin was completely smooth after shaving. As he observed the deep blue eyes that were staring back it him, he came to a realisation. ((Flashback - Terra Tanunda Vineyard, Barossa Valley, Australia, Earth – Stardate 237312.10)) Little Wil was sitting on his grandfather’s lap, shielded from the hot dry sun under the back veranda of the refurbished estate cottage. Astrad: So, young Wil, what do you want to be when you grow up? Ukinix: Ummmm… Starfleet occifer. In space! Astrad dropped his jaw and smiled in pretend shock, while tickling Wil’s chest. Astrad: (Giggling) In Space, just like Mummy was! (Cheekily) Are you sure? Ukinix: Ummmm… Wil clasped his little hands together, and looked up at the veranda roof, before nodding and looking at his grandfather’s perfectly black irises again. Ukinix: (Excitedly) Yeah! His grandmother who was sitting nearby sipping a glass of cold Adelaide Hills Pinot Gris spoke up. Hayley: But Wil, it might get dangerous in space! (Teasingly) What if you fall out of a starship? He clasped his hands together again and turned his head to look at Hayley. Ukinix: Buuuuuuuut, naaaah, but, it’s OK, cos, cos, you might have to wear a special suit, a viralmental suit, and (shrugging) it means you can do breaving! So you can do breaving, OK?! Mummy said that’s what occifers on a starship do, OK Grandma? Hayley: I’d be worried about you, Wil! You’re my grandson, I want you to be safe. Ukinix: (Hand on cheeks, half laughing) Grandmaaaaaaa, I’ll be safe in my viralmental suit! She leaned forward and tickled him under his chin, which made him move his head down and lean back to avoid her hand. Hayley: You’d better be, Master Ukinix! Wil squirmed on his grandfather’s lap, giggling and squealing in delight. ((End Flashback)) He watched himself smile in the mirror at the fleeting memory of that moment. He was now a lieutenant, and becoming an experienced Starfleet officer. The one thing he had set out to do from a young age had actually *happened*. He had overcome the huge speed bump of becoming strongly empathic in his teenage years which had threatened to derail that goal. And there he was, staring back at himself on a starship, that contained a full crew, some of which he considered his good and close friends. One of which who, despite being in many ways the opposite of him, shared quarters with him. And he adored her immensely. As he moved back into the bedroom to get dressed for the day, he realised he’d been through a hell of a lot since he joined the Veritas. So had many of the crew, which meant he wasn’t alone. Ukinix: (Under his breath, singing) Dun-dun-dun dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun… After getting dressed, he picked up his combadge, and breathed on it before giving it a polish against his gold uniform. He placed it on his chest, then lifted it up slightly to inspect it. As big smile came to his face. Ukinix: (Quietly, smiling) I bloody did it. Every day brought new challenges and new opportunities to smile. Even on the “bad” days, deep down he knew he loved being part of Starfleet. And being part of the Veritas was the huge layer of chocolate icing on top of the already impressive rich chocolate cake. As he left his quarters and entered the corridor, his smile got bigger as he made his way down a corridor towards the turbo lift entrance on Deck 4, still singing very quietly to himself. Ukinix: (Under his breath, singing) Dun-dun-dun dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun… (interrupting himself)- wait Before a few seconds later back tracking, and then turning the other way instead, towards the turbo lift entrance on Deck 4…. Ukinix: (Under his breath, singing) dun-dun-duuuuun… (inhaling) Dun-dun-dun dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun - (interrupting himself, looking back)- hang on. …only to stop himself, gently slap his forehead, and back track *again* to turn back the way he was originally going towards the turbo lift. ((Main Engineering, USS Veritas, about an hour later)) The “ear worm” that he had given himself several hours earlier while he was getting dressed wouldn’t go away. Not that he minded, it was a song from his collection that he liked fondly. The lyrics were depressing, and he thought reflective of a time on Earth that, by all accounts, wasn’t great. There were even some dark were times in his life when he identified with elements of the song. Thankfully not anymore - he even felt a little guilty for even still liking it. But damn, the tune was good. And the classical string instruments made for a catchy intro riff. Which he kept repeating quietly over and over as he stood at the impulse monitoring board. Ukinix: (Under his breath, singing) Dun-dun-dun dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun… In fact, the riff was so good he reached for his nearby PADD, and made a few taps to access his personal files. After a few more taps music started playing quietly out of the device’s crystal-clear speakers, enough for him to hear it but not enough to distract everyone else. As the beat started, he tapped his hands on the board in front of him in perfect time as he monitored the impulse engine’s diagnostic readouts. PADD: // ‘Cause it’s-a bitter-sweeet… sym-pho-nyy-yy, that’s liiii-hiiife… // A smile came to his face as his friend and Chief, Lieutenant Geoffrey Teller, entered main engineering and gave him a nod. When Wil realised Teller was possibly heading towards him, he reached up to the PADD and tapped it to stop the playing song. But instead of walking towards him, Geoffrey simply gestured with his head in the direction of the office while still walking. Wil got the message, and left the monitoring board to walk behind him, following him inside. As the doors closed behind him, his Chief hurriedly sat down at his desk, working his fingers at the console that was mounted there, while somehow also managing to gesture for Wil to sit down. Wil could strongly feel Geoff’s sense of urgency, as he seemed to be flicking between different screens on the LCARS display. Teller: Sorry Wil, just a minute, need to do this before we talk. I promise it's important. Ukinix: No worries. Wil placed his elbow on the desk, then rested his chin on his palm. He looked up at the small shelf on the wall behind Geoffrey, and the unsealed bottles of Romulan Kali-fal sitting on it. The brightness of the blue liquid inside was mesmerising. Teller: Well, that's done...but now I'm in the wrong chair. Wil eyes darted back to look at Geoffrey, who leaned forward to rest against his side of the desk. There was a small smile on his Chief’s face, which made Wil furrow his brow. Ukinix: Huh? Teller: Wil, you know you have my complete trust, right? Ukinix: (Quizzically, confused)…. Yyyyyyeah… where is this going…. Teller: Good. Do you know that every man and woman in this department respects the hell out of you, both as an officer, and as a colleague? Wil’s face brightened as a smile came to his face. Ukinix: Ah! That’s because (raising finger) I slip them latinum every now and then. When his Chief ignored his joke and just kept looking at him, Wil furrowed his brow, this time squinting his eyes. He still didn’t know where the conversation was going. He rested his chin on his fist. Ukinix: Okaaaay…. Teller: Well, they do. A lot. They know you're fun to work with when things are calm, and a rock solid professional when things have gone pear shaped. They trust you. You're going to find that valuable. Ukinix: Thank you. (Smiling, sitting up) Sorry I didn’t realise it was performance review day. That’s valuable information for when the time comes- Teller: When you're leading them. Which starts the minute those doors ::Teller nodded towards the closed office doors:: open. As of about 15 seconds ago, you're acting Chief Engineer of the Veritas. Ukinix: You what? Wil’s face turned to one of concern. Ukinix: Wait, are you OK? Chief, you’re my friend, is something going on? Teller: Don't go getting all sappy on me, this is just temporary. Commander Delano asked me to join him for a few weeks at the shipyards here, working on some new ship that's still mostly in the transport crates. Apparently everything that's gone on lately has impacted productivity at the Livernois Shipyards....who could've guessed? He swivelled in his seat, and looked at the adjacent wall with a neutral expression, apart from his widened eyes. What Geoffrey had said had half sunk in, but so had the shock. Ukinix: Oh. Teller: Look, I know it's a lot to take in. When I got promoted to the acting Chief role, I was still an Ensign. You had barely been off the shuttle five minutes and we had just finished getting shot at by a bunch of grouchy windchimes. I had no idea what I was doing, but between you and I, we've forged a hell of a department in the last year. He nodded slowly in agreement, looking at a lower part of the wall he was staring at. Ukinix: (Quietly) We have. Slowly, a smile formed on Wil’s face, before he swivelled back to look at Teller, and stood up. Ukinix: (Nodding) Yes, we have! Teller: More than that, Wil. You're my best friend, and there's nobody in the galaxy who I hold in higher regard. You're ready for this. You have been for a long time. Congratulations, Chief Ukinix. ::Teller stood and offered his friend a hearty handshake which quickly turned into a fierce hug:: Wil put his hand in Geoffrey’s and shook it vigorously, before he found himself wrapping his other arm around him, giving him several firm slaps on his back. Ukinix: (Muffled) Mate, thank you, I don’t know what to say! (Cheekily) Except that I promise not to blow anything up… And I consider you my best mate too. Teller: Alright, alright. ::Teller turned away and surreptitiously wiped at his eyes.:: A beaming Wil took a step back to pat Geoffrey’s shoulder, while shaking his head in disbelief at two pieces of news that he didn’t expect. He was now the acting Chief Engineer of a Starfleet Starship, and his Chief considered him his best mate. Wil wasn’t always great with words, and there were times he wished he could project his emotions on to others, so they knew how he felt. This was one of those times. Ukinix: (Still patting Goeffrey’s shoulder) You’re a legend, Chief. (Chuckling) Wow, this came out of the blue. There was a moment of happy silence between the two. Teller: Well, back to business - Skipper told the XO that he'll have pick of the litter if we end up needing more staff, so I may have to poach a few people from you for a few weeks, but I won't know who till I get there. I'll keep it to a bare minimum. Ukinix: (Playfully rolling eyes) Chief, they’re your people, I’m just minding them. You take who you need, we’ve got things covered here. (Lifting finger, smiling) Except for Char, she’s awesome. She stays. Teller: Other than that, you know the shop status as well as I do, so there's no sense going over that. As for standing orders - Take care of the crew, take care of the ship, and take care of yourself. In that order. Beyond that - it's your department to run, Chief - enjoy yourself. I know I have. Wil stood up straight, and placed his hands behind his back, giving Geoffrey a nod. Ukinix: Aye sir. Good luck, mate. Turning his head to watch his Chief leave, Wil looked around the office before he almost jumped as the doors shut. He looked out of the window and watched the crewmembers of the engineering department diligently working away, blissfully unaware of the temporary personnel change that had just happened. The gravity of what he had just been told sunk in. He placed his hand over his mouth, and felt a wave of excitement and fear roll over his body. He slowly let out a breath through his lips, before adrenalin coursed through his veins. Ukinix: (Quietly) Oh boy. He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees, to regain his composure. He was now a department head. Even if it was only temporary, he was now charged with a responsibility he didn’t think he’d have for a long time. Ukinix: oO Am I ready? Oo His thought was broken by a voice over the office’s speakers. Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Hello Lieutenant Ukinix? =/\= Wil closed his eyes, and exhaled through his nose, before tapping his combadge. Ukinix: =/\= Yes, Crewman, can I help you? =/\= Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Not really, I’ve got some information for you. =/\= Ukinix: =/\= (Sigh) OK… =/\= Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Can you hear me? =/\= Wil stood up straight, and placed his hands on his hips. Ukinix: =/\= Yes, C’lem, actually I can hear you, and in fact, looking out the window of the Chief’s office, I can even see you a few metres away across the other side of engineering, looking at a console! =/\= Without turning to look back at Wil, C’lem continued speaking. Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Well that’s good, because there’s been a personnel change. Apparently, you’re now Acting Chief Engineer of the (console beeping sounds)… USS Veritas. =/\= Ukinix: =/\= Funny that. Chief Teller just told me about a minute ago. =/\= Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Do you mean Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller, First Officer aboard the USS Diligent? How could he have told you. =/\= Wil closed his eyes and placed his hands on his temples, before smiling. There was nothing bitter about this moment. It was just “sweet”. [End] Lieutenant Wil Ukinix Acting Chief Engineer USS Veritas V239511WU0
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