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This is a direct punch in the feelings, you are warned. This is Mr. Walsh's first (and so far only) SIM, the view of what is happening on the USS Thor from the viewpoint of one of those nondescript characters that fill the background of our scenes, that manages to summarize, rather promptly, the emotional cost of what the "officers at the top" are trying to fix. Really, really well written and an excellent sample of the good work of @Wes Greaves I won't forgive you this, sir.

Two appreciation posts from me in a week but I do have to say I’m a huge huge sucker for lots of fine, intricate description. I absolutely loved the atmosphere. MOAR please 😂And I do also have to say sailing ships are fantastic. @Jarred Thoran ((Somewhere in the Atlantic, HMS Destiny)) ((OOC: Just a little something from Jarred's unconscious state)) Jarred stood on the quarterdeck, a sweeping view of the ship in front of him, men busying themselves with work. The ship in question was the 32-gun fifth rate frigate, HMS Destiny, a 19th century Royal Navy ship.It had a deck composed of great wooden planks, with three huge masts protruding from it. Each of the masts was furnished with great off white sails. Above were clear blue skies and below dark blue water. The swell of the waves caused the ship to roll gently, creating an almost calming effect. He took a deep breath, feeling the sea air filling his lungs. He’d always felt more at home on the sea, the oak planks beneath his feet than he ever had on land. He had been fascinated by the sea from an early age, the mysteriousness of what lurked in the depths, the adventures to be had in distant lands. A sudden sway caused a splash of salt filled water to hit his face and a moment later the peacefulness was broken as a voice called out. Callan: Hands to quarters. Hands to quarters. Enemy ship to larboard. The previously quiet humdrum on the deck now becoming a hive of activity as the crew hurried to their stations. The air filled with the sounds of shouting of orders, the drumming of the marines and the piping of the whistle. In mere minutes the entire crew had turned onto the deck, many racing up from below. Standing beside Jarred was Lieutenant Callan, who was presently occupied with the telescope, keeping track of their enemy. The deck rumbled and groaned as the 12-pound cannons were rolled out into position. A contingent of red coated marines had joined Jarred and his officers on the quarterdeck, their muskets aiming at the ship now bearing down on them. Thoran: Fire as we bear Mister Stanway. Stanway: Aye aye sir. A moment passed and Jarred smiled to himself, pleased with how swiftly his crew had run their guns out and had prepared for action. There was a certain thrill with the anticipation of battle. The Destiny had been assigned to patrol the shipping lanes after a spate of pirate attacks against the merchant shipping in the region. After two days on the hunt they had finally found their prey. The ship on the horizon was larger than the Destiny, but Destiny had the advantage of the weather gage on their side. With the weather gage, Destiny would be the one to dictate the terms of engagement. They were upwind of their opponent, meaning they would be able to manouvere at will towards them downwind.. Stanway: FIRE! As his First Lieutenant gave the order, it resounded down the ship, each officer repeating the order for the gun crews to hear. The fuses to the canons were lit and a couple of seconds later the deck was awash with smoke, the sound of cannon fire filling the air. ------------------------------------------- Commander Jarred Thoran Commanding Officer, USS Atlantis NCC-74682 A239405JT0

Insert obligatory hatred of Faith of the Heart here But also This.

This kind of stuff is why we can't have anything nice on the USS Thor... and why I love hate writing with those nerds Good Job Guarantee @Geoffrey Teller

I actually like the Enterprise theme song. Please don't throw things at me! Back when I was on the Columbia I made the following intro credits view and set it to Mr. Mister's "Kyrie". The lyrics of the song repeat the phrase "kyrie eleison" which in English means "Lord, have mercy." I thought the concept of looking for a deity's blessing on your travels was a nice theme that went well with the exploration of the far reaches of the galaxy and venturing into the unknown that was our ship's assignment. As far as the Gorkon goes, I believe our theme song would more appropriately be party-oriented - something upbeat and catchy. Something like "Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO. 😀

MENTHAR CORRIDOR — After completing a high-risk extraction of the colonists and officers trapped far beneath the surface of Vel Meijan, the crew of the USS Thor (NCC-82607) takes much-needed leave on nearby Ferenginar. Elynn Flynn, the current colonial administrator and granddaughter of colony founder Hunter Flynn, was among the last group transported aboard the Thor before it warped to safety. This has presented an unexpected change in circumstances for her and her people. “It’s a lot… And it’s a lot to take in at once. But we’ll make it. This colony’s been through much worse than a shiny new planet – we’ll make it work.” After pausing considerably, she added, “We have to.” With the mission behind them, Fleet Captain Kells has offered the crew shore leave while the Thor observes a migrating pod of gormaganders. The rare spaceborne creatures are on the Federations protected species list, and the dedicated science vessel USS Tharsis has been dispatched to further study the creatures. Ensign Tara Wilkins is using the opportunity to study the creatures at short range. “This is perhaps the first time we’ve seen gormaganders in a pod before,” she explained when approached for comment. “They are mostly solitary creatures. It certainly was a once in a lifetime event to see them up close and personal.” When asked about the dangers involved in their study, Ens. Wilkins went on to say, “There was an ahasitor that was attacking the group of gormaganders. Captain Kells ordered us back, determining it was too dangerous to be close to them. Other than that gormaganders are mostly gentle creatures.” Members of the crew not involved in scientific pursuits used the downtime to conduct a chilli-cook off, some sporting activities and several have chosen to visit the perpetually precipitating Ferenginar. Before taking on their next mission, the Thor is scheduled to run a series of routine diagnostics on their Quantum Slipstream Drive to ensure the strange radiation observed on their last mission had no lasting effect. Rumours of a sphere of unknown origin being detected in the Vel Meijan system shortly before it vanished again remain unconfirmed at press time. Written by Geoffrey Teller The post Colonists Saved From Vanishing World, Crew Enjoys Shore Leave appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

For me personally I think instrumental suits the Atlantis but it’s gotta be this piece.

I would like for USS Arrow something like this music. A little Idyllic I know, but... It´s my liking. 🥳

An absolutely devious and devastating finish to a long running side story about addiction and personal choice. Bravo! ((T’Mar’s Quarters, USS Constitution)) T’Mar and Saveron sat across from each other, each with a cup of their preferred beverage, the picture of cool Vulcan composure. T’Mar: I see. ::pause to sip her tea:: You have spoken to Commander Foster. Saveron: Affirmative. ::There was no logic in denying it.:: He informed me of your extended use of Lexorin following a medical procedure which, I understand, resulted in unwanted effects related to your natural empathy and telepathy. He watched her expression, not really expecting it to change but wanting to be certain that he had the story straight. There was no benefit in proceeding on incorrect assumptions. T’Mar: Succinct. So he had understood correctly. Saveron: Would you wish to talk about the procedure? The details were probably of more use to medical in the context of resolving the situation, but sometimes simply talking through a traumatic situation could be beneficial. Being heard was a powerful medicine. The clatter of the teacup indicated that he had, as some cultures put it, ‘hit a nerve’, which she tried to cover by carefully setting the cup down. There was definite trauma there, that tiny slip confirmed it, and he wondered how such a thing could have been allowed to happen. Perhaps one day she would have the confidence in him to let him work to reduce it’s impact, but first he had to build that confidence, that trust. She closed her eyes for a moment and he remained silent, giving her that space in time. T’Mar: Not particularly. It was done against my will. I was given medication to prevent me from blocking out the feelings and then subjected to a bombardment of emotions. It was.. Unpleasant to say the least. Vulcans were the masters of understatements. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like, being subjected to the emotions of others, multiple others, against one’s will. But he would not ask her to relive that day now. Saveron: Will you describe for me the changes that you experienced following the procedure? T’Mar: I.. ::pause:: I had a strong feeling of violation, but I also experienced an inability to properly suppress my emotions as well as my empathy. Hardly surprising that T’Mar felt violated, and Saveron suspected it could well have led to a distrust of other health professionals, whether consciously or unconsciously, which would have reduced even further her desire to seek the follow up she should have had. The anger that welled on her behalf was heavily suppressed. Now was a time of logic, and through logic, hopefully, the gentle unwinding of the knot T’Mar had gotten herself into. Saveron: Disagreeable. ::He empathised.:: And for these symptoms you were prescribed Lexorin? T’Mar: Indeed. I was hesitant at first, however, it was necessary. The Counsellor set his empty cup aside and laced long fingers together. Saveron: Entirely understandable. ::There are times when such support was beneficial; but it was never meant to be permanent.:: And I anticipate that the medication has been supportive. The question is; how to do you wish to proceed from this point? Saveron wasn’t aware of that particular part of her conversation with Cade, but T’Mar was exactly right when she insisted to Foster that no treatment would be efficacious, no effort to resolve her addiction succeed, if she was not willing. Given that she had been an unwilling participant in the original procedure, consent and active participation was particularly important. T’Mar: I am quite content continuing on the way I have been. Saveron: By which, you mean continuing treatment with Lexorin? He paraphrased to be certain that he understood her. T’Mar: There seems to be this notion that I am doing something wrong, but this medication helps me, Commander. The defensive tone of her words was obvious. Deep down, she knew that it wasn’t the right answer, and she’d heard accusation from him where he’d deliberately offered none. Oh, he could have, but he anticipated that Cade might have already taken that path, and was possibly not the first. He was deliberately walking a different one, since clearly the other had not been efficacious. Saveron: One presumes that others have championed this notion, based on the recommended treatment protocols. T’Mar: That’s a matter of opinion. The protocols were, technically, a matter of opinion, but a several very educated, expert opinions. Saveron: The general medical opinion is that long-term Lexorin use is to be avoided. He said it to see what she’d say to that, whether she’d acknowledge the current medical wisdom. T’Mar: I had hoped that you of all people could understand the complexity of my situation. And that was a no. Saveron: I am endeavouring to do so. ::He assured her evenly.:: I have never had another’s emotions forced on me, nor known what it is to be perceptive to the minds of others at range. ::Every telepathic contact he’d experienced had been individual, and consensual.:: I… cannot truly begin to comprehend such a violation, or the after effects. ::He admitted.:: Only that they would be intolerable. I understand that you would not wish to endure them. T’Mar: ? He inclined his head in acknowledgement. Saveron: I collated these documents for you, in anticipation of your preference, to provide you with relevant information. He offered over a PADD for her to take. T’Mar: ? Saveron: I have included several studies of the long-term effects of Lexorin, including a metanalysis of the available data. In addition there is an account from a patient who was under palliative care for a terminal illness, and also on Lexorin, which provides a more personal rendering, so that you know what to expect. He spoke in the same, even tones, entirely professional, even dispassionate, in the way of their kind. A sharp contrast to Commander Foster. The analyses detailed the relative effectiveness of the medication over time, the cumulative neurotoxicity and eventual progression of synaptic breakdown. Sopek had documented his mental condition in great detail, until he was no longer able to do so. Because that was the reality of what T’Mar was facing if she continued the way she had been, as she wished to. And since they were being logical, stoic Vulcans, he was simply providing her with information with which she could make informed decisions and plan for her future. Unfortunately it wouldn’t be a long one. T’Mar: ? Saveron: I can provide a prescription of Lexorin for you; it will be dependent on quarterly neurological scans. ::And be set to cancel immediately, should a scan be missed.:: Once the scans show neurological degradation, you will be discharged from Starfleet on medical grounds. Not only for her own sake, but for that of her colleagues. T’Mar: ? Saveron: Depending on your current synaptic state and frequency of use, and based on those studies, I estimate that you will have between two and five Standard years of service, before that occurs. The synaptic degradation curve is exponential, so once it becomes detectable you will need to enter care. I have included a list of care facilities that specialise in telepaths’ medical needs. The one on Betazed is particularly highly regarded, but has a long waiting list, so I would recommend submitting your application now. Five years, maximum, and she wouldn’t be able to look after herself. T’Mar was absolutely right, it was her choice. But the important thing about the freedom to choose was that it came with the responsibility to accept the consequences. That was a lot of life to miss out on. T’Mar: ? TAG Commander Saveron Counsellor USS Constitution-B R238802S10 ((T’Mar’s Quarters, USS Constitution))

((Corridor, Deck 6 - USS Juneau)) What a way to spend one's holidays. Maxwell Traenor had allotted several weeks of his pent-up earned leave in order to attend a major symposium on Starbase 821. There was an exotic and unique discovery in the Dialrin system in the Aavaro Wilds, and scientists from around the quadrant were being drawn in for study. Maxwell was attending the symposium out of personal curiosity rather than as a professional requirement, unlike many of the Starfleet physicists and geologists and xenoarcheologists and all other kinds of 'ologists' being transferred to the starbase for the task. His path from his ship's area of operations to the symposium was a veritable tour of the Federation, spanning almost the full breadth of the Alpha Quadrant. The milk run needed to transit the route had Maxwell hitching rides on 5 starships and 2 transports over the course of 9 days. Finally, though, he was on his last leg on the Juneau and he was content relaxing in the luxurious guest quarters on the relatively new starship. Until the klaxons started, of course. Maxwell was off duty, almost technically a civilian, though of course not really. A Starfleet officer on a Starfleet vessel or installation was always to be ready for duty, especially in an emergency. So despite having absolutely no idea what was going on, or what was where, or even if he could be useful in any way, Maxwell struggled into a uniform and exited his quarters. Random Lieutenant: Sir, didn't you hear the hail? Hurry, we need to get to Transporter Room 4! Traenor: But- The gaggle of officers led by the interjecting lieutenant had swept him up in their group before he could even catch his breath. Were they abandoning ship? What were their orders? His collective knowledge of personnel on the Juneau resulted in three - the transporter chief who had welcomed him aboard, the Ops ensign who had checked in on him in his guest quarters, and of course the bartender in the lounge. And he didn't even know their names, likely wouldn't even recall their faces from a lineup. Maxwell still didn't know what was going on as he was all but frog-marched onto the transporter pad. He couldn't even glean what was going on though the excited chatter of the others who crowded the pad alongside him. Transporter Tech: Prepare for transport. Traenor: But- ((Corridor, Deck 4 - USS Arrow)) Wherever it was that Traenor and his gaggle had materialized, it was Starfleet through and through. The corridor design was unmistakable. There was much to be said about the housekeeping, however. His comment card at the end of his trip would certainly reflect that. It was dark, dingy, dirty, and most egregiously, hot. Those who had beamed over with him scattered in all directions, leaving him standing there bewildered. A different officer, a JayGee in operations colors, approached rapidly and before Maxwell could utter a sound, she shoved an engineering kit into his chest. Engineer: Commander, this way! Traenor: But- Engineer: ::without looking over her shoulder to ensure Maxwell was following - which of course he was, because what else did he have to do?:: I know, I know, not your specialty. But this is triage, just of a mechanical kind. Do your best, sir, and start with that junction over there. The officer pointed one direction and walked another, leaving Maxwell alone and no less bewildered. Dammit, he was a physicist, not an EPS plumber! But, an emergency was an emergency, so to work he went. He even managed to keep grumbling to a relative minimum. ((Bridge, Deck 1 - USS Arrow)) Ugh. Grimy and sweaty. Not a scientist's natural state. Well, maybe if one was a speleologist, but Maxwell was not one of those. The bridge of this vessel, which he had finally learned was called the Arrow, was marginally better than the working conditions that he had endured belowdecks. The lights were back up, there weren't techs lying under every elevated surface fixing things, and there didn't seem to be too much panic among the resident officers. The center chair was supporting a man in a blue collar, who Maxwell had never seen before and would likely never see again. He shuffled over to stand tangentially before the officer, and waited until the object of his attention noticed the weary and discomfited scientist before him. Traenor: Sorry about your ship, Commander. But the officers from the Juneau seem to have most of the big problems back under control. If you would be so kind as to give me leave to return to the Juneau, I'll be on my way. Collins: response Traenor: But- He looked mutely and slack jawed between the viewscreen and this harbinger of disastrous news, as if by sheer will he could beckon the Juneau back from wherever it was off chasing or doing or whatever. Now how in the hells was he supposed to get to the starbase in time for the symposium? And why oh why did he have to be so nosey as to leave his quarters? Collins: response Of course, Traenor was fully aware that any officer at any time could be commandeered and pressed into service wherever they found themselves, which was the automatic reaction that had lured him out of those now long gone comfortable quarters on the Juneau. It's just... well, this was supposed to be his holidays! It also meant that he might have to explain to this fine officer that no, he was not trying to be insubordinate, it's just that he should never have been here in the first place. Unlike the Juneau officers who had been specifically ordered to be here, he was... well... just along for the ride? Traenor: ::defeated:: Well, that's that then. I don't suppose we'll get anywhere near Starbase 821 in the next, oh, 24 hours or so? Collins: response Traenor: ::shrugging, determined to make the most of it:: I'll make myself useful around here then, sir, if you've anything in mind. You won't find me on the Juneau's roster, since I'm transient, but you can find my service record if you search a bit further out. If you have need of a scientist, then I'll do what I can. Maxwell Traenor, at your service. He wasn't going to make the symposium after all. He was on an unknown ship, added to the roster at least until it was returned to a starbase for the desperate repairs it needed. His vacation was shot. But! It was a bit of an adventure, and Maxwell was willing to tough it out - after a hot sonic shower and a hot meal. There *was* going to be a shower and a meal soon, right? Collins: response TAG/TBC -- Commander Maxwell Traenor Chief Vacation Specialist, USS Arrow A239111MT0

I think this situation highlights where our format can produce some incredible and dramatic storytelling - @Wes Greaves invoked these very accessible and believable newlywed officers in his first sim (The Cost, below) and I was immediately struck by the personal nature of the storytelling within the context of a larger disaster aboard ship. I spoke to him over Discord and, with his blessing, built upon his start. Lets hope things work out for these two