Leaderboard

((OOC: I really enjoyed the XO's impassioned plea to Lt. Waters, as she continues her transformative journey. Kudos to both of you for a moving interaction. Simple, but effective.)) ((IC)) ((Deck 1, Bridge, USS Eagle)) Waters: The Juneau is, by all appearances, larger, and superior to the Eagle. As Shayne settled into his seat, admiring the ridged contours it featured, he beheld his new home on the viewscreen. From here, she was even more imposing; enormous in comparison to their beloved garden spade, angular and slick and bristling dangerously. Shayne: She’s a beast. He spoke low, admiring her from a distance. She’d have to be tamed, and her kinks worked out, before she could safely be operated. He hadn’t the luxury of showing fear aboard her, but from this distance, he could respect her properly. Dear god, what had he gotten himself into? Waters: She is not the Eagle. I may sit at this station still, but it will not be... this. It is only recently I have begun to realize... this is my home. Now we are... I am, leaving her. Opportunities of many varieties have been squandered. This time... cannot be regained, and I am uncertain how to say goodbye to a home I only realized I lived in recently. Shayne leaned forward, fire in his eyes. Shayne: Hold that realization close! Don’t let it go. Let the pain brand you. Understand what you’ve missed, and realize how you can keep from doing it again. Waters: Response He stood, now impassioned but speaking quietly. Shayne: The crew makes the ship- and most of the crew is moving with you! New home or not, new world or not, you’ve got the chance to make this right. Claim it! I know you can. You have come so far! The words were infused with pride and a frustration Shayne did not mean to include but couldn’t avoid. Waters: Response Tag/TBC… Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne First Officer USS Juneau NX- 99801 G239202RS0

Each month, we interview a captain or first officer of the fleet to gain more insight on what it takes to command a ship and learn more about how each of these staff members found their way into these roles. This month, we’re interviewing Fleet Captain Aron Kells, the CO of the USS Thor, one of two support ships from the Embassy of Duronis II. The crew of the Embassy has transitioned permanently to the Thor and embarked on a new mission. GALVEN: Thank you for agreeing to take a moment and be interviewed! Could you tell us a little about yourself for our readers out there? KELLS: Sure! My name is Tony, which I use primarily in part because I’ve used half a dozen different characters as PCs since I first joined the fleet back in 2005. Kells is probably the character I’ve simmed for most often, which is one of the reasons I chose him for command this time (but more on that later). A fun fact about me is that I joined 118 when I was still in high school and I’ve just recently finished my PhD, so the group has seen me through my entire higher education journey. You just recently took command of the USS Thor. With your previous command service record, has it been a smooth transition process? Very much so. My first regular command was of the Mercury, almost exactly eight years ago, and that was a more difficult situation. The original CO retired only four months after launching the ship, and his replacement lasted less than a week before he had to take an emergency, long-term LOA. The Mercury’s XO was a real trooper and was a great help to me when I came on as CO, and I knew when I found out what a force Brian (Lt. Cmdr. Teller, the Embassy’s and now the Thor’s XO) had been in helping to keep things together, I knew that the work he and the other great staff members had started put me in a really strong place to come in and help the Embassy crew move to Thor. With such a decorated service record. where and what kind of places do you turn to with that kind of dedication and contribution to 118? I like Trek a lot, first, and that’s part of my persistence. It’s such a rich universe, and there are always more stories to tell. That said, I read and watch very widely, partially just as a lover of sff (science fiction & fantasy) and partially because I co-host a podcast, The Imaginaries, that looks at contemporary sff from a queer perspective. Blatant self-promotion: https://www.imaginaries.net/ Out of the number of years you’ve been with the fleet, is there a specific time that stands out the most for you that’s memorable? I was very, very lucky in that I managed to attract a group of dedicated, devoted simmers, many of whom are still around. Of those, several went on to commands themselves, which makes me very proud. In general, though, I’d say the years that I spent commanding the power trio of Mercury-Garuda-Invicta are some of my very best memories of the fleet. I know that’s a big span, but it was all pretty good. Before you wrote for Aron Kells, you had another character named Niccolo del Vedova. What made you decide to use Kells rather than del Vedova to command the USS Thor? That’s a great question. I do think that I will switch to Nic del Vedova, or Del, as a CO sometime in the future — but I expect that to be more than a year hence, probably. I did consider which character to use as my CO character carefully, and I ended up choosing Kells due to a combination of familiarity (both to me and the fleet), experience (IC and OOC), and story. Del will get there! What kind of advice would you give new and even current members of the fleet? Surround yourself with people who are smarter and more talented than you. Seriously, part of the reason that I remember those Mercury-Garuda-Invicta years so fondly is that I was surrounded by just that caliber of folks. Rich (aka Flt. Capt. Rahman) blew me away from the start, but there are plenty of people who are still around (Mandy, aka Lt. Cmdr. Moonsong — Sarah, aka Cmdr. Saveron — and many, many others) who are just some of the most amazing people. Thank you for your time, Fleet Captain Aron Kells! You can read more about Fleet Captain Aron Kells on the wiki. The post Captain’s Corner: Fleet Captain Aron Kells, USS Thor appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

because, yes, we *do* all want to see this beatdown

@Taelon be like

Thanks @Sheila Bailey!! Although, let's give credit where it's due and acknowledge all the outstanding writers such as yourself for showing me and others learning how to write creatively. I wouldn't have been able to get something like this out two years ago before joining the fleet 🙂

((OOC: A fantastic JP establishing one of the MSNPC 'factions' the Thor is going to encounter during their current mission, The Lost Colony. My sincerest compliments to @Ben Garcia & @Quen Deena)) (( Structural technician team delta completing authorised duties near Vel Maijan Subterra Development Zone )) Air hissed, and the aerosol splattered the wall with blue specks. The hiss expired, the can rattled and out shot a thick, crisp stream of blue. The circle was sprayed first. Imperfect, but functional. A stroke left and then a stroke right. That filled the circle with a cross. It had been marked for further measurements. She stood back a moment, checking her tag. The cross was tight and streak free. The circle disappointed her, like always. Her supervisor called out. She glanced over, held up her free hand and stumbled on the workbag. That’s when the canister fell and rolled. She was always diligent. She always took it slow and followed the protocol. They’d done a good job though. They’d worked hard. It was break, and the sup’s joke had made them all laugh. Later, when she’d unravel the bandages and pull back the gauze, she’d guess the laugh had made them all careless. She lent down, like anyone might, and grabbed the canister. The pain wouldn’t hit her for a few seconds, for there was still her gloves to peel into. It was panic that made her scream. The panic of seeing the canister choke and smoulder as she held it in her hand. She threw it back down - there was not much else she could do now. The second scream was pain. She passed out before the third. (( CD’s office, primary medical unit, Vel Maijan Subterra. )) Rick bit his stylus as he read the report back. Attending: Rick Armiger, Chief Doctor. Patient: Kassy McBill, Senior Structural Technician Summary: Patient came into contact with biological substance echo-charlie-thirty-one during authorised duties. Rick tapped the end of his stylus on the desk as he gulped a mouthful of water. Signs of activity this close to Vel Maijan Subterra was worrying. Rick continued to proof read his report: Contact resulted in the destruction of the patient’s right thumb, index finger and middle finger. In line with current medical protocol the right hand was amputated to control substance echo-charlie-thirty-one and prevent contagion. Samples have been collected from the contaminated appendage prior to its transport to the disposal site in line with protocols for managing contact with substance echo-charlie-thirty- .… A knock at the door flicked Rick’s eyes up from the screen. Outside, Ellen pulled the door open just enough to poke her head in. Flynn: Now a good time? Rick pushed his chair back and smiled. It was good to see a friendly face. Armiger: Grab a seat. Ellen shifted a heavy box labelled ‘EC-31’ to the floor and sat herself in the newly-vacated chair. Flynn: How’s Kass? Armiger: Sedated. (Rick raised his eyebrows.) One conversation I’m happy to put off. Ellen pressed her palms against her knees, breathing a gasp of equal tension and relief. Finally, a survivor.. Flynn: Alive… (beat) I don’t envy you. She won’t take it well. Armiger: No. (Rick rolled the stylus along the table.) No she won’t. (Rick took a breath and looked at Ellen.) She’ll adapt. She’ll pull through. She has to. Flynn: I’d like to talk to her when she wakes up. Maybe she saw something that can give us a clue... Armiger: Of course. (Rick spoke with compassion.) Let’s give her another hour or two before … (Rick paused.) … before we turn her world upside down, eh? Ellen tucked a lock of ginger hair behind her ear. She leaned forward in her chair until her elbows met her knees, forehead pressed against her palms as she stared at the floor. She was tired. Tired of fighting something they could not detect, could not see until it was too late - something that took life and limb faster than anything they’d ever seen before. Flynn: Six fatalities in twelve weeks… (She sat back up after a moment with a heavy breath.) I’m putting the project on hold. Elbows on the table, Rick cupped his forehead between his hands. He squoze at the temples. There was no relief. It did not come. Pausing the project would stoke discontent and fan the flames of fear. The project had been a unifying force for the colony. It was something to be hopeful about. Rob them of that and … Rick took a breath and rubbed his forehead. He sat back now, one hand over the armrest while the other ran through his choppy black hair. Rick rested the hand on the crown of his head as he looked at Ellen huddled on her chair, and then out past her at Kass through the observation window. Pausing the project bought them time. Maybe Ellen could distract them by upping preparatory work and manufacturing. She’d pulled off such sleight of hand before; she was a shrewd leader and that might buy her enough leeway to weather out this storm - for all of them to get through it. Armiger: There’ll be some resistance, Ellen. The project. (Rick paused.) It means a lot. Flynn: I know. There’s no right answer here, Doc. We’ve managed so far, we’ll be fine without the expansion for a while. Have to tighten up the rationing - break up more fights… Ellen stared at a chunk of quartz embedded in the rock wall behind Rick. What had been a population of eighty when their grandfathers first went underground now numbered nearly two hundred. Just enough to start outgrowing the cavern they’d originally settled in. Over the past year, teams had been heading deeper in - scouting the best possible route for expansion. It had been going well, until they’d encountered the substance. Three died on the day they first discovered the foamy, gelatinous, rock-like substance lining the walls of one of the caverns being surveyed: their bodies burned and disintegrated nearly beyond DNA recognition. Subsequent encounters had not yielded better results. Amputation could spare a life, when contact with the substance was limited. Although, with fewer victims living than dead, the longer-term effects remained to be seen... Flynn: But we can’t keep losing people. There aren’t enough of us to keep fighting this … (gesturing toward the box) thing. And I know you’ll agree with me there. (Beat.) Any closer to figuring out what it is? Rick followed Ellen’s glance towards the containment box and shook his head. Armiger: Beyond the last report? (Rick shook his head sharply.) No. We know it’s highly acidic and contains two distinct bacteria. Jury’s out on the bacteria. (Rick made a humming noise.) The team is of the opinion that whatever the substance is, it’s not excreted by the rock - it’s being deposited by something. Flynn: Keep at it. Sam’s got the transmitter working - still can’t change the message. Armiger: The team is analysing samples from Kass. We’re pushing hard on this Ellen. We’re trying the experimental procedures on these samples. (Rick shifted in his seat.) We’re going to unpick this. Rick paused at the thought of Sam; the last time he saw Sam, that transmitter was getting a kicking. Rick laughed. Security had stepped in at one point citing charges of vandalism. Armiger: (Laughing.) Sam finally kicked that thing into submission then? Flynn: Kicked, slapped, threatened to sell it for scrap… No idea who he was planning on selling it to - (laughing) he’d have to get it working first! It was good to see Ellen smile, if only fleetingly. Rick smiled and nodded. Armiger: Someone might hear it. Let’s hold onto that hope for now. Ellen raised her eyebrows. Flynn: And let’s hold onto the hope that whoever hears it is friendly... Rick exhaled audibly at the thought of them attracting more hostile attention. It was a scenario that had been chewed over by the department heads at the colony steering meetings for months. Their repeated cautions had delayed the activation of the transmitter. In that delay, lives had been lost until finally the argument for sending the distress called outweighed the concerns. Rick changed the subject. Armiger: What time is the debrief? Flynn: Eight. Sam’ll patch you in if you can’t make it. Rick looked out at Kass. The sedation kept her unawares of the horror she had yet to wake up to. Eight, Rick repeated it to himself. That only gave Rick the best part of two hours. An hour to check in on the team’s experimental analysis of the EC-31 samples, and then an hour to speak to Kass. That assumed there would be no more inbound incidents to the primary medical unit (PMU) between then and now. Armiger: I’ll try Ellen, you know that. (Rick noded in the direction of Kass.) I might miss the start. Ellen pushed herself up out of the chair with a long look out at Kass. Flynn: Let me know, Doc. I’ll be over at Sam’s. Armiger: (Rick mustered a smile.) Tell Sam congrats. (Rick paused and clarified.) The transmitter. (Rick’s smile dropped.) Ellen - they’ll understand the pause. They’ll have to. Rick watched as Ellen left the office. In several paces, she was gone from sight, eclipsed by the ward partition. Rick sat and took a minute. Tonight’s debrief would be tough. The department heads would need some shepherding; it’d be a strenuous meeting. Rick decided to make sure he had as much data available to help Ellen as he could. That meant getting down to the containment lab and checking the team’s progress. Out in the corridor, Ellen leaned against the wall. Two hours. Two hours to come up with a solid way to break the news about the expansion delay, while simultaneously trying to get the transmitter to broadcast something, anything, other than a seventy-year old distress call. The call was already coming from a man who was long dead - and for all they knew, it was going to a government that no longer existed. End. ========================================== Ellen Flynn Colony Leader & Rick Armiger Chief Doctor Simmed by: Lieutenant Quen Deena (Ellen Flynn) Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 E239602QD0 & Lieutenant Ben Garcia (Rick Armiger) Second Officer/HCO USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: G239102MR0

Did you say caffeinated beverages? Sign me up!

Serala sat in the First Officer’s chair staring at the viewscreen. The Captain was off somewhere and she had been left in charge today. The shift was turning out to be fairly routine, and to her mind, boring. She found herself hoping for a little excitement today, but she really should have heeded that old adage: “Be careful what you wish for.” Several weeks ago, Serala had experienced what she was still calling Hell Week. An ironic nickname considering that Serala had no religious beliefs of her own, outside of a regard for The Elements. The only good thing to come out of that week had been the birth of her beautiful daughter, T’Saara. But other than that one wonderful event, she had experienced crashing into a frozen wilderness and being stranded with government sanctioned assassins hunting her and the other survivors; the rather brutal death of her husband which she had felt through their shared telepathic bond; and the rather unexpected return of her deceased father from the grave after nearly thirty years. Two weeks later, the Captain promoted her to First Officer. Life was just starting to settle down, and here she was wishing for more excitement. Suddenly, the viewscreen began to shimmer and the stars faded out to be replaced by the image of her husband’s face. He looked straight at her and began to speak. “Serala. What are you doing, e’lev? Why have you not taken me to Vulcan?” Not sure that what she was seeing was real, and confused by the question since she had sent his body home, she hesitated briefly before answering. “But how are you here? And what do you mean? I sent you home?” “But, e’lev, I do not live in my body. I am in you. My katra is in you. You must take me back to Vulcan. To Mount Seleya.” “Stevok Deyhhan? What do you mean? How can your katra be with me? We were nowhere near each other when you died.” “My wife, we were bonded. We did not need to be together.” Of course! How could she have not realized that. Stevok had told her about katra and that they were usually transferred to someone if they could not get home. There, the katra was taken to their holy mountain, Mount Seleya, where the priestesses would store it. How that was all done was a mystery to Serala. She had always believed that physical contact was necessary for the katra to transfer to another, but the nature of their bond would have changed that. On their very first meeting, Stevok was in the early stages of his pon farr and had instinctively chosen her as his mate. Somewhere along the way, they had bonded telepathically. It was not uncommon for Vulcans to bond with their mates, but it was usually done in a ritual ceremony as so many things with Vulcans are. But occasionally, it could occur as an instinctive action on the part of one Vulcan partner or the other. Such had been the case with Stevok and her. Ever since that day, they had never been apart even when separated physically. “But I felt you die! I felt the bond sever. How is that possible if you were still with me? He smiled that knowing smile of his that often irritated her. Like he was sharing some private joke at her expense. “Yes, Serala. The bond was severed. My body was dead. But my katra needed a place to go, so I clung to that bond and was flung into you when the strand was severed. And I have been here since. I am just now recovering enough to be able to reach you again.” “Then I must take you home at once!” Stevok seemed to consider it for a moment before responding. “I have reconsidered this, ailhun. I can remain this way for years and I sense that you still need me. But when the time comes, I need you to promise me you will take me home.” “I promise, Stevok. On my Honor!” Anyone who knew Serala knew how much that honor meant to her. “But, how will I know when it is time.” “Another will come to take my place in your heart. You must let him. And when he does, then it will be time.” That was never going to happen. She was sure of that. But Stevok had said it with such certainty that she wondered. When she next spoke it was whispered, barely audible. She was making a solemn vow to the love of her life. “Jol-ao au deyhhan. There will never be another to take your place.” “E’lev, there must. You must continue to live, and love is a part of life. It is not logical for you to remain so. Grieve for me as you must, but do not refuse to live your life because of a memory. For that is all I can ever be for you now.” Serala doubted such a thing would ever happen. She had loved before, but none ever held her heart like he had and none ever would. Sensing her thoughts, he laughed that most wonderful laugh of his. “Of course, e’lev, none will ever hold your heart in the same way. For each, love will be different. But it does not mean it will be less. Only different.” She still doubted his words, but Stevok had always had a way of reaching that stubborn part of her that few could ever breach. So, she conceded the possibility, though she didn’t think it would be for years to come, if it ever did. “If such a time ever comes, e’lev, I swear on my Honor that I shall return you to Mount Seleya.” “Then I can ask nothing else of you, Serala. I wish that I could have remained for you and our child, but it was not meant to be so.” Tears began to creep into her eyes. More than anything, she wished he had lived to see his beautiful daughter. “I wish you had been here to see her, Stevok. She is so beautiful. And she has your eyes. I named her T’Saara after your grandmother.” “But Serala, I have just told you that I am with you. I have seen her and she is beautiful, just like her mother. And you will be a wonderful mother to her. I am so proud of you both.” She cried in earnest now, and part of her worried that the others on the bridge were witnessing this private moment. She did not want to be a spectacle for her crew. But the love she felt, and the loss, once more rose up to overwhelm her. She was so unsure of so many things. How was she going to raise a newborn and yet remain as First Officer on this ship? Yes, so many had stepped up to offer their assistance. She knew Little Bean was never going to be unloved or uncared for. But there was just so much even she could handle. And with Stevok gone…. She was feeling overwhelmed again. With love, with loss, with loneliness, with responsibility. She had friends, but Stevok had always been her confidant. The one she could turn to when she needed to talk, to work things out, or just to be vulnerable for a few minutes. “I am still here, e’lev. And I will not leave you until another has come to take that role from me. But you must let me go when that time comes. Live, Serala. Love.” The smiling face of Stevok vanished at that and Serala noticed that the others on the bridge seemed to not have realized anything had just happened. “I Swear It.”

He had done this six times. "Who are you?" Captain Gunner finally voiced a question he had been keeping in his mind since a random woman had suddenly appeared on his viewscreen. The Captain was alone, he remained on the ship whilst the rest of the crew left for shore leave. "How can you not remember me Captain?" The mysterious female answered back, insinuating that they had met before and that the Captain should be fully aware of that fact. "Why would I? I've never seen you before." Captain Gunner believed this to be true, his mind couldn't find anything related to this woman. Her curly brown hair and ocean coloured eyes didn't seem familiar at all. He continued to focus on the unfamiliar face as she answered back. "Alice." That rang a bell. The Captain stood up off his chair and calmly approached the viewscreen, the high pitched noises, that were common ear fodder on the bridge, played in the background as the Captain got closer and closer to the woman in front of him. "Alice… Gunner?" It was a shot in the dark, but one he believed would hit. "Yes" she replied. Everything now made sense. The Captain was definitely not a forgetful man, he remembers everything and everyone, but someone he purposely forgot was his daughter, a baby that didn't make it. All logic flew out the window as tears trickled down the Captains face, the impossibility of this situation didn't matter to him anymore. A broken man laid face down on the floor, banging his hands against the floor of the bridge whilst crying his eyes out. "How could you let me die daddy?" He continued to cry, until he couldn't bear it anymore. Bang He had done this seven times. "Who are you?" Captain Gunner finally voiced a question he had been keeping in his mind since a random woman had suddenly appeared on his viewscreen.

Prison wasn’t so bad, Tillul mused. The worst part of it were his fellow prisoners; many of whom were uncouth, angry monsters. But then, they were all in for murder. Tillul had been here about a year, a long year of slowly acclimatising to incarceration, but he’d made what they laughably called his “accommodation” his own. He’d taken to carving small anatomical models of fauna from bits of wood and stone that he’d purloined from the yard during their daily exercise, and he used a small toolkit they’d allowed him from the workshop classes. He’d attempted to be a model prisoner, gaining the guards’ trust, or at least refraining from earning their ire. He sat on his bed, reading the PADD that was a standard prison issue. It contained a variety of Betazoid literature, and he was currently engrossed in the works of Toman Chaa, a romance novelist of little consequence, but whose writings were deemed of having no qualities that might arouse a prisoner to undesirable emotions (such as rage) or mount an escape. He ran a hand through his thinning steel hair as he read, a slight frown on his face. No matter how many of these he read, they didn’t get any better. He was about to throw the book at the wall in a bout of aggressive tedium when a voice shattered the quiet. "Hello, Tillul” Tillul jumped up with a start, his ageing frame showing surprising speed as he rushed to the cell door. There was nobody there. "Over here, love of mine” Tillul’s blood ran cold, the icy fingers of fear playing his spine like a human xylophone. He swallowed once as he turned around. There, on the viewscreen normally reserved for meetings with his lawyer or the warden, was Fumiko. Her almond eyes stared at him from not just across the room, but also across the heavens. She was supposed to be dead; she should be dead. He had pushed and she had fallen, and that was the truth. So how was she here? Tillul was a man of science, he knew there were no ghosts. It was possibly a mental trick, a faulty neuron firing the wrong impulses into his brain, or maybe a new delicious form of torture developed by the race of telepaths. The voice spoke again. "What’s the matter, targ got your tongue?” Tillul shivered as the syrup of her voice ran over his soul. This was impossible. His mouth was arid, as devoid of moisture as the desert wastes outside the prison. He opened his mouth to speak, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Y-y-y-you’re dead” he rasped, a stutter forming on his lips, a trait he had ironed out of his son with harsh words and tough love. Fumiko tipped her head back to laugh, a brutal mockery of the warm tinkle that he remembered as her expression of mirth. This laugh was cruel, and high and cold and turned his blood to iron in his veins. She turned her eyes to face his, her chilling blue gaze meeting his ebony eyes. The corners of her mouth twisted into a glacial expression of amusement. Tillul felt his knees go weak and he slowly slumped back down onto the bed. "Dead or not, I am here, aren’t I?” She blinked slowly, as Tillul hung on her every word. “My my Tillul, you did very well didn’t you? What, nearly thirty years of freedom after ending two lives in one fell stroke? An enviable achievement. And you would have got away with it too, if not for that son of yours. How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child, eh? After everything you did for him, and still he squeals on you like a pig, revealing your deepest darkest secrets. Sure, you suppressed his abilities, made him a cripple, what, two times over? But at least you were safe. Until you weren’t.” "It wasn’t like that,” Tillul hastened to interrupt her unstoppable train of thought. “It was for his benefit as much as mine” Fumiko scrunched up her face into an expression of extreme doubt and disbelief. In what felt an eon, she shook her head, maintaining eye contact the entire time. "You and I both know you only did it so he wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon your dirty laundry Tillul, and frankly it’s insulting that you would believe I could swallow that pill. I’m not one of your animals; I’ve seen the size of some of the things you gave them” Tillul’s face assumed a mask of purest, undiluted hatred. This woman, this stupid woman, had ruined his life twice over. First of all, she’d had the audacity to get pregnant, to make leaving her even more difficult than it was already. Then her death had come back to bite him in the rear, ruining his chance of a perfect family. Laxe had loved him, and his son had loved him, and then the revelation of one little secret had brought it all down like a house of cards. He pointed a short, bony finger at the face on the screen. "How dare you, how very dare you! You ruined my life! If it weren’t for you, I could still be happy. Still be free!” Fumiko’s face took on a patronising glare that needled into Tillul’s brain as she raised both her eyebrows at him. "I don’t remember forcing you to push me down those stairs. In fact I seem to remember feeling a jolt of shock before the sudden nothingness. So please don’t be blaming me for that, thank-you-very-much” Tillul’s eyes narrowed to thin slits through which his ebony eyes blazed. He considered throwing something through the viewscreen to gain himself a moment’s respite, but a feeling of some kind stayed his hand. Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was the unsaid knowledge that this wasn’t a physical manifestation and breaking the screen wouldn’t do diddly. Instead he rearranged his face into a softer look of contrition that was as false as his testimony on the stand. He’d tried to argue that it was an accident, that guilt had rewritten his memories to pin the blame on him, because he had felt so anguished at his inability to save her. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t fly. "I am sorry. I am sorry for what happened to you. I - “ She interrupted him before he could get any further. A red rose of rage blossomed in the pit of his stomach, but he clenched his jaw and stayed quiet. After all, he had all the time in the world. "You’re not sorry that I died, you’re sorry that you got caught. Please don’t insult my intelligence or my memory in saying that. You deserve this though, and you know it. You are a murderer, Tillul, a murderer of your wife and her unborn child. Every minute you serve here brings her another moment’s peace, you know that?” Tillul raised an eyebrow at the face on the screen, her calm, docile eyes boring into his, as the face took on a more neutral expression, one that made her look less like Fumiko and far blander. In fact she could now be anyone. If it even was a she - the features had become a nondescript androgynous humanoid face and it was that which scared Tillul most of all. The face winked once at him before disappearing with a soft ‘pop’ leaving Tillul alone on his prison cot, shivering with his penitence. Over the next few days, Tillul frequently noticed a slight tremor in his right hand, often getting more violent as the day progressed towards night, and sleep. He had not slept well since the visitation from Fumiko’s ghost, or whatever it was. At first he had believed it was a manifestation of one of the many deities, some of which were vengeful and some were just and it could have been any of these. However he had dismissed that summarily when he reasserted his atheism to himself strongly in the mirror. Gods and demons simply did not exist and even if they did, he was sure he would be beneath their notice when compared to the grand scale of the universe. So instead he started to think that it was a dream, or rather a nightmare, a mental ordeal of torment that had visited him when he was asleep. That had to be it, he assured himself as he tossed and turned in his bed. And yet the screen in the corner of the room glowed a little brighter when he wasn’t looking...

Ishka couldn’t make any sense of where she was. It was home, and yet, it wasn’t. Something about the scents that assailed her nostrils was off. Most things on Leya-I didn’t give off strong odors like this, especially plants. In desperation, she looked around the meadow of sun-kissed Kazuri for some clue as to why she was here. Scant moments ago, she’d been floating in space in an EVA suit with her oxygen supply nearly depleted. She paused. Was she dead? Is that what this was? Al-Leyans didn’t believe in an afterlife, but if she could imagine one place she’d like to spend eternity, it would be the beautiful landscapes of Leya-I. Though she had wanted nothing more than to escape, that had always been more about the people. Fighting against the sudden surge of apprehension and uncertainty, she took one step forward. And then another. And then another. Before long, she was wandering the field of lovely plants, her feet scarcely touching the ground as she did. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she didn’t really care. She was home. For the first time in years, she was home. A sound at the other end of the field caused her to tense and instinct took over. Her distant ancestors had once been easy prey for any large animal that sustained itself on flesh, so it was only natural that her fight or flight response would engage in the presence of the unknown. She didn’t truly know anything about this place or what to expect here. What should have been a haven was a strange land to her. She listened, expecting her keen hearing to pick up the sound again. As she strained her ears, she made out the subtle, rhythmic shift of the grasses that alerted her to the approach of someone or something. Not knowing its intentions, she shifted her stance to brace for a fight. With no weapon to help her, she’d have to rely on her strength alone. The feeling of what she believed to be a hand on her shoulder caused her to jump and she instantly grabbed the hand, using the creature’s momentum to flip it over her shoulder. She barely registered the surprised yelp as the creature landed on its back with a resounding thud. Moving quickly, she sat atop it, pinning it with a hand at its throat, the other hand ready to deliver the killing blow. “Ishie?” The familiar voice and pet name made her freeze. Only one person had ever called her that. Her hand briefly tightened around the being’s throat as she grappled with what she was experiencing. No. No, it wasn’t him. He’d died years ago. This was some imposter. Her temper flared. How dare someone impersonate him. “Who are you?” she growled. A soft smile crossed the man’s lips even as his hand came up to the one gripping his throat. “Ishie, it’s me,” the man rasped. She growled louder, warring with what she knew to be true and what her eyes were showing her. Despite the fact that her grip was likely cutting off his air, he made no move to stop her nor did he give any indication that he was afraid. Tears sprang to her eyes, sliding down her cheeks, as she released the man’s throat and stood abruptly. She ran her hands through her hair, tugging hard at the strands, even as the man gasped for air beside her, rubbing his throat. “Wake up,” she muttered. “This is an asphyxiation-induced reaction. Your brain is trying to make sense of what’s happening. Wake up.” Again, she felt his hand, and she tensed. “I’m here, Ishie,” he rasped. “I’m here.” She turned to him, anguish twisting her expression. “No! You died!” The man didn’t respond, allowing them both to lapse into momentary silence as she processed what was happening. Taking a deep breath and exhaling it, she broke the silence, her native Esperanto flowing with ease. “What is this place?” she breathed. A smile that she couldn’t quite discern the meaning of slid across his lips as he studied her. “Home, Ishie. We’re home.” That simple statement held so much meaning that she wasn’t certain she could unpack all of it even given an eternity. There was something about the way he said it that made her believe him without question. For the first time since encountering him here, her gaze met his. What she saw caused her chest and throat to tighten, the tears beginning anew. She could scarcely draw breath, each exhalation requiring supreme effort as she wrapped her mind around the fact that she was looking into her uncle’s eyes the same way she’d used to before. How is this possible? “Uncle,” she whispered. She dropped her mental guard entirely, allowing herself to fully feel his presence even as she stumbled forward to embrace him in one of the tightest hugs she’d given in her years. Burying her face in his shoulder, she smiled as the subtle yet familiar scent of the many blossoms he’d enjoyed tending to invaded her senses. It felt like an eternity that she stood there, embracing him and refusing to let go. She was almost afraid to, convinced she’d lose him again and she’d never get him back. It was soft at first but gradually grew in intensity. A beeping sound that didn’t match her current surroundings had her pulling back and she furrowed her brow in confusion. “Do you hear that?” she asked. Her uncle smiled sadly, cradling her face in his hand as though to bring her attention back to him. “Hear what, Ishie?” She shook her head. “That beeping. I--It sounds familiar.” Gradually it grew louder and she realized that the world around her was becoming fuzzy. In a panic, she reached for her uncle only to watch him disappear right before her eyes. The rest of the scene faded away rapidly and she found herself again staring through the visor of the EVA suit out at the black of space with a splitting headache. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she did her best not to sob because it would only deplete her oxygen faster. “Please,” she whisper-prayed to whatever deity was listening. “I want to go back to him. Please.” But no one seemed to hear her. She remained stuck in the EVA suit, waiting for the Atlantis crew to eventually find her. ====================== Lieutenant Ishkabela Journs Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Atlantis I238110RH0

The view screen snapped into focus on an impossible sight and a voice from Lorian’s past speaks to him and him alone… He looked in awe as, in front of his very eyes, his cat was sitting on the bridge of another vessel. In the captain’s chair no less! The aptly named Captain Patches had gone missing a year ago, presumably to join the cat uprising. Lorian spoke up, a hint of confusion in his voice. “Captain Patches? This is Captain Lorian Lovar of the USS Doolittle. I-” he was cut off by a loud meowing from his former cat. The universal translator took a few seconds, but was able to interpret his meaning. “Yes, I know who you are, Captain.” The computer had, for whatever reason, given the feline an extremely deep voice, verging on demonic. The cat captain began another series of meows, which the computer translated quicker than before as if adapting to the language.“I am in need of your assistance, one captain to another. My warp core has been damaged. My best engineers have tried and failed to repair it, as they do not have hands. Please, captain, we need your help.” He seemed genuinely concerned about his ship’s safety, and Lorian wasn’t about to leave his former pet in peril. “I’ll… I’ll send an away team over right away. Hang in there, sir.” The Vulcan smiled at the viewscreen and gave a small salute, just like the old days. “End communications.” “Aye, sir” said Lieutenant Commander Digo, his chief of operations. His first officer, Commander Gan, finally chimed in,”So… That was your cat?”. “Yup… Good ol’ Captain Patches.” “I assume you’ll want to lead the away team.” “Of course, you have the bridge, Commander.” “Aye, sir.” The Captain walked towards the turbolift as his first officer took her place on the command chair. His tactical officer, Lieutenant Yuri, and Digo followed behind him. He could tell that this would be an interesting mission if nothing else. It was a surprise when the United Feline Federation declared its independence from the United Federation of Planets. It was an even greater surprise when they won that independence through a brutal and bloody war that lasted only six months. Since then the two federations had continued to have close ties with one another, one providing knowledge and engineering and the other providing a vital resource: cute cat videos. The cats had a monopoly on interstellar entertainment. Ever since the early 21st century, watching their crazy antics and cute quirks had been a favourite activity of humans. When the first contact was made, the Vulcans reportedly asked for a copy of the latest viral hits for their own entertainment. Over hundreds of years, this blatant cyberbullying of the cats race had gone on too long, causing a mass uprising of cat kind in an effort to claim the rights to their own images. Quickly the federation, used to a constant stream of new videos, became completely demoralized, putting up little resistance to the massacres orchestrated by the cat council. They had to surrender, they simply couldn’t fight. _____________________________________________ As the turbolift reached its destination, Lorian looked at the two officers beside him, nodded, and walked out. They followed, staying on both sides of him like a security detail. When they entered the transporter room, his chief engineer, Lieutenant Gareth, was passing the time by making conversation with his transporter chief, Lieutenant Li. They saluted almost instantly as he entered. He smiled and nodded as a returned gesture. Over the years that Vulcan smile had become less odd and more natural to him. A familiarity he could only hope was shared by his crew. “So, who’s ready to fix the cat ship?” Lorian exclaimed “Sir! Is it true that your old cat is captaining the vessel?” asked Li. He was a very curious young lad, Lorian saw himself in the young human. They had become quick friends because of this, and of course drinking buddies. The captain chuckled at the remark,”Yes, Lieutenant, me and Captain Patches had some good times together. I got him when I was still in the academy actually.” “It must be exciting to see him again, sir, I know I speak for the rest of us former cat owners that we certainly miss our old pets.” “It’s definitely a pleasure, Lieutenant. Now, onto business.” He walked onto the transporter pad, his company following. He gave Li a brief two fingered salute and spoke,”Beam us aboard, Li.” “Aye, sir, I’ll see you when you get back.” Lorian and the rest dematerialized and were sent onto the feline vessel. When they rematerialized they found themselves in a transporter room not too dissimilar to their own. The only difference being that there was a cat manning the transporter. And another cat waiting to greet them. And a security detail, with weapons trained onto them. Captain Patches was standing with fine posture for a four legged being, and began a series of meows. His comms universal translator was taking its time in translating what the cat had said, but it was already too late. The phasers had been fired before it even began to speak. Lorian expected to be stunned or disintegrate or have a hole in his chest, but none of that had happened. “I’m sorry” his comm blurted out in the same deep voice as before,”The council only allowed me one pet. Fire!” The captain looked beside him only to see no one. Not a single thing. Not a single thing except specs of dust floating down to the floor of the transporter room. Shock set in. He froze up. He was about to reach for his phaser when he remembered that he arrived unarmed. He was trapped. Before he was able to recover from the shock and betrayal of what had just happened, he was put in handcuffs and led into the hall. “Meow meow meow, meow, meow meow meow meow.” exclaimed the cat captain. His comm interpreted the message a moment later as “I am truly sorry, I would have kept all of your men if the council allowed it, but I’m afraid they’re very picky on who lives and who doesn’t.” “Patches… It didn’t need to go this way. The war is over, what reason do you have to-” “Meow! Meow meow meow meow meow. Meow, meow meow.” That last sentence seemed directed at the communicator in the cat’s ear. He wasn’t sure where they were headed, he had never been on this model of ship before, but he assumed a brig or interrogation room of some sort. “Silence, humanoid!” yelled the comm,”I thought you were smarter than that. You lost the war, you surrendered, but you never met our demands. Now we must take the Federation by force! Patches to bridge, fire all photon torpedoes at the Doolittle...” Lorian’s heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach like a brick off a building. His pride and joy, his ship, his crew, his friends. He was about to cry out but he already knew it was too late. In his heart of hearts and his soul of souls he knew his ship… his family was gone. Now, all the Vulcan had left to look forward to was being the pet of pets.

@German Galven This sim was really well done. It was sad but also really sweet. It shows the domestic side of star fleet life so well. I also want to congratulate you for implying at a challenging topic and giving it a bit more awareness. ((OOC- Wanted to do a small follow up after the JP with Sevo)) ((Science Department Holodeck Facility #1, Deck 547, Starbase 118)) German had stayed in the holodeck long after Ayiana left. He was ecstatic about hanging out and just talking with someone he’d known right from the beginning of his Starfleet career. Although that wasn’t why he was still in the simulated conference room. Even the assistant hologram looked on at him curiously. He smiled at the hologram which German figured since it was a barista to name him EBH or rather Venti Au Lait. Au Lait: Is this the best name you could think of for me? Galven: ::shrugs:: At least you have a name. Would you rather be called ‘The Barista’ or ‘Emergency Barista’? The five foot eight inch fair haired hologram looked like he was ready to facepalm. Instead, Venti walked back over to the coffee bar and started to clean up. When news broke from Lael that she was pregnant, German had gone to the rest of the ultrasound appointments with her. The doctor had recreated a hologram of what the baby would look like by the early signs of genetic sequences. Once he found out that they had lost their daughter due to complications of stress and the different genealogical hybrid species she would have, German didn’t want to accept it as he kept working to prevent his mind from breaking him apart. A few minutes had gone by as he was projecting what Galilea would’ve looked like if she was nine. The same age his sister was before she was kidnapped. After the creation was successful, German had tapped the monitor on the side of the holodeck which caused the little girl to form. First, her head was created as the long flowing strawberry blonde hair and light green eyes had formed. Soon, her ridges on the sides of her forehead appeared, but there weren't any ridges on her chin, but there were slightly noticeable ear ridges which also had the pointed features that Al-Leyans had. The rest of her body took shape as she stood around five foot wearing a child's costume of standard science officer attire. German admired the girl as she was frozen in place which made Venti approach German from behind and rest his hand on the Denobulan’s shoulder. Au Lait: I take it that this is someone you know? Galven: ::clears his throat, his view still on Galilea:: She’s my daughter if she was nine years old. Her date of birth would’ve been two months ago in March. Au Lait: ::pats his shoulder:: I’ll leave you two alone. Let me know if you need me. Venti walked back behind the bar as German tried to have the courage and strength to activate the holographic image of what was supposed to be his growing family. He had tried to contact Lael a few times after the transfer, but it was fruitless. She more than likely was too distraught and overworking herself as well which German understood and never held it against her. So when he started to also make a hologram of Lael, he decided against it because German knew how much she valued her privacy and it wasn't morally appropriate to do that without her consent. Instead, he turned on the video feed to send Lael a message afterward which she'd be able to watch if she wanted to. Galven: Computer. Activate video recording and the Galilea Program. Computer: Acknowledged. Video recording set and activating Galilea Program. The little girl's head started to move slightly and then blinked several times to adjust her eyesight. To say that German was nervous would be an understatement as Galilea glanced up at the Denobulan. He was at a loss for words at first, but when she smiled curiously at him, he felt more at ease. Galven: Hi Galilea. Do you know who I am? Galilea: ::wry grin:: You're my daddy, silly! ::giggles:: Where is mommy? German struggled to get out the words as his bottom lip quivered, but mentally shook away anything that'd prevented him from using the time wisely he had with Galilea for the first time. He stepped forward with his arms outstretched which made Galilea run up and give him a hug. Galven: Mommy is out on assignment right now. ::which wasn't too far from the truth since that was the last time he heard from Lael:: She's at Starfleet Headquarters, remember? ::releases from the hug, kneeling down to talk with her at eye level:: Galilea: Oh yeah! Teaching kids my age about engineering stuff, right? Galven: ::smiles and nods:: You're a lot smarter than you look, kiddo. ::winks and chuckles a bit:: Galilea: ::arches an eyebrow, smirking with her hands on both her sides:: Well, I got it from mom's side of the family. Oh, the girl was already being sassy enough that German wondered if the computer also determined her personality from both of her parents. He didn't mind though because that's how he sort of expected her to be. Practically about to bust a guy laughing, he stood back up and held her hand. Galven: That you did. Would you like to have to meet Venti and have something to drink? Galilea: ::shakes her head, glancing over at the bartender:: Not really. ::to German:: I wanna play with Arlil. Where is she? Galven: ::momentarily thrown:: How do you know about her? As soon as he finished his question, Arlil materialized in the room which he realized that Galilea was talking about his past sister before she was abducted and not the current Arlil which was a relief for him. With his hand still holding Galilea's, they both walked over to his little sister. Arlil: German, you should've paid more attention to which program you were using. ::huffs:: You almost deleted me, big brother! Galven: ::sheepishly chuckles in embarrassment: Well, it's a good thing that I didn't. Galilea: ::clearly confused:: Daddy, what's she talking about? Galven: ::starts sweating a little:: A program about... ::beat:: a game I used to play with her. Would you like to play with Arlil? German noticed that Arlil folded her arms across her chest, giving him narrowed eyes trying to figure out why he lied to Galilea. He gave her a quick wink with a look that told her to go along with it. She acknowledged back with a silent and quick nod to acknowledge him. She walked over and took Galilea's hand. Galilea: Oh! A game? What are we gonna play? Arlil: Since you're in science blues, wanna play in the dirt and look for any signs of old Terran dinosaur bones? Galilea: Sounds fun! Daddy, is that okay?! Can I, can I?! A chuckle turned into full on laughter which German agreed to. Of course, he would agree to something like that and soon enough, the holodeck transformed into an archaeological dig. Both girls ran for one of the sites and grabbed the equipment to start the adventure. German looked on with a teary eyed smile because he knew at some point, he'd have to end the program to get back to work. With a heavy heart, he knew that it wasn't healthy and for him to see his late daughter this way, he wanted to make it a right step for him to start the grieving process. Eventually, he started to help Galilea because during his time with her, she was about to unearth a few remnants of a large lizard which Arlil started to get excited about as well. Work would just have to wait for him to return. Galilea: I love you, daddy. Galven: ::worries his lip:: I love you too, baby girl.