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Showing content with the highest reputation since 10/13/2019 in Posts

  1. 3 points
    We’re here with another interview with a newer member of our community. The title of this column is “Lower Decks,” hearkening back to the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode titled “Lower Decks,” in which junior officers aboard the Enterprise-D speculate on the reasons for recent unusual actions taken by the command crew near the Cardassian border. This month’s interview is with the writer behind Lieutenant Junior Grade Ghant Xerix playing a Betazoid/Risian male Helms Officer assigned to the USS Gorkon. GALVEN: Thank you for allowing me to interview you! Could you tell us a little about yourself for our readers out there? Xerix: My name is Johnny and I write for Ghant Xerix, a young officer from a noble house of Betazed. I’m also an entrepreneur, husband and father of two children. What has been your favorite moment writing for UFOP: StarBase 118? Probably a joint post between myself, Ukinix and Rahman involving some dancing with a Betazoid noblewoman. They are great writers and it was a lot of fun. Do you take any inspiration from movies/TV/books when writing for your character? Lwaxana Troi, rather heavily. She is a wonderful canon resource for the race, and the nobility. I also model Ghant’s love life after hers. Also a book called the Battle of Betazed. Wonderful exposition on the culture, particularly during a dark time. No spoilers, but the decisions they made about fighting the enemy showed such determined compassion in the face of a cruel enemy. Really sets them apart as a race. Out of all the number of duty posts, you chose helms officer. What advice can you give new and older members who want to choose that particular duty post? Do a bit of research on attack patterns. Learn the terms like port, starboard etc. Helm, and especially HCO is a wonderful position. How do you set your writing style and where do you improve most on Xerix’s character development? I have a pretty poor education, so my writing has come via trial and error, and aping better writers than myself. Since I’ve joined the Gorkon, it’s really pushed me to improve my characterization of Ghant. Everything is very well thought out aboard the Admiral’s ship. And lastly, do you personally have aspirations in the fleet? Are there any OOC activities you’re associated with, or any you’d like to join? I’ve recently written my second article for FNS. I’m also a newbie in the ASDB and I greatly enjoy cross-ship joint posts. SB118 is really one big family. I do have aspirations to make command one day, but I’m just enjoying where I am now. Thanks for your time, Lieutenant Junior Grade Ghant Xerix! You can read more about Lieutenant Junior Grade Ghant Xerix on the wiki. The post Lower Decks Interview: Lieutenant Junior Grade Ghant Xerix, USS Gorkon appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  2. 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
  3. 1 point
    ((OCC: This is the start of a mystery. The first 8 posts will set it up. After that, anyone who wants to join in can do so. This is Part 1 of 8 Flashback Scenes)) Alone ((Epsilon Argyros, Scylanthia, Alastriona’s Office – 239606.10 – Four Months Ago)) ::And she finally stopped playing their song when she realized that she was dancing alone. – Anonymous:: ::Like a dying firestorm, the red star Epsilon Argyros began to set below the horizon, bathing the room with fading passion. Alastriona looked up at her long bare legs, which were perched up on top of the glass table of her office, high above her homeworld, Scylanthia. It was summer outside, and she had chosen a pair of jean shorts, a red t-shirt and sandals to wear. Her pale skin warmed up nicely, even though the large glass windows were tinted.:: ::The building hovered over two thousand feet in the air above the city Cleeia. Outside, hundreds of multicolored balloon-like people – Scylanthian’s – drifted about. She could see the beaches far below, near her house. The ocean, tinted with a rainbow of colors cast down from the exotic atmosphere of the planet, turned cherry red as the sun fell into the sea. A scattering of stars came out: Theta Tauri, Gamma Tauri and Delta Tauri were first, followed by Epsilon Tauri and Aldebaran.:: ::Alatriona leaned back in her chair, stretched out her arms, and yawned.:: ::The computer was undeterred by her behavior.:: Computer: The mass segregation of the star cluster is consistent with the observed distribution of stellar types – DeTroyes: Ordinateur, arrêt. :: Another yawn filled her face. ::I’ve studied long enough today, ::she grumbled.:: ::The computer’s refusal was simple.:: Computer: Negative. ::The machine continued to drone on.:: Stellar evaporation occurs in the cluster halo as matter. . . ::Irritated, she dropped into English.:: DeTroyes: Computer, halt! ::In a condescending tone, the computer argued,:: Computer: The study schedule, programmed by YOU, continues for another two hours. DeTroyes: What’s with the attitude? Ten hours is enough for today! ::she complained:: If I can’t pass the science exams when I get to earth, maybe I’ll quit Starfleet altogether! :: She was grumbling, but knew the computer was right, or rather, she was right to have programmed the computer to try to force her to continue on. She was a hundred and twenty years out of date. It had been nearly a year since she’d asked for a leave of absence from Starfleet, so that she could study the current scientific theories. It was so embarrassing to ask people such simple things as how to use a modern tricorder.:: Computer: Starfleet re-certification exams begin in 56 Earth days. Since you’re scheduled to leave on the transport La Fayette in thirty six hours, and it takes 53 days at warp 8 to reach Sol, it is advisable to . . . DeTroyes: I know! ::Exasperated, she reached over to shut the thing off, but she hit the wrong button and it triggered a very old message buried inside the computer. Whispers came out of time, bringing back old memories. It was the voice of her sister, Genevieve.:: Genevieve: Alastriona, I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this message – Starfleet tells us that you’re science station at the edge of the milky way was destroyed, but I had a dream about you. . . . and I know that you’re still alive. . . . ::There was a pause where Alastriona thought she heard her sister crying. Then Genevieve continued,:: Genevieve: I have some terrible news to tell you. Everyone in our family is dead. Both of our parents, our cousins – everyone – are gone. They say that a curse killed them. I’m leaving Scylanthia and moving to a planet called Bijou Bleu, which is in the Gliese 777A star system. Hopefully, I’ll be okay there. I wanted you to know so that you’ll be careful if . . . I mean, *when* you get back. I hope this message really does reach you. I love you. ::Her sister’s words hit her like a thunderbolt. Alastriona felt a cold tingling sensation dribbling over her body. Her parents, Telfour and Chantel were both dead. All the rest of her family were gone too. She knew that they were dead of course, since they lived a hundred years ago, but to hear the news that they had died prematurely, that they had never had a full life, was too terrible to bear. The shock of it filled her with silence.:: ::Occasionally, she had entertained the thought of trying to contact the descendants of her family, but never did so, feeling uncomfortable at the idea of getting to know her great-great-great-grandchildren. But they had never been born. Or had they?:: DeTroyes: Computer, locate the DeTroyes family on Scylanthia. Computer: There is no one with that surname on Scylanthia. ::Alastriona put her feet on the floor and whirled to face the computer monitor, as if it was another person, listening to her shock and grief. She shook her head. :: DeTroyes: Let’s make it simple. Computer, take my Starfleet file and extrapolate all data for my relations and descendants. Locate any of my living relatives in the Federation. Computer: Working. . . :: Alastriona leaned back in her chair, and looked down on the coastline near the city of Cleeia. She had walked those beaches with her sister, so long ago. . . :: Computer: There are no matches to be found anywhere within the worlds of the Federation. :: It felt like someone had punched her hard in the stomach. Alastriona felt dizziness whirling around and around. Getting up, she grabbed the computer and threw it at the window. :: DeTroyes: NO! ::The monitor bounced off the glass, which had been reinforced against the storms of Scylanthia, to keep out the sometimes poisonous gasses that drifted down from the more dangerous bio-zones above.:: DeTroyes: What happened to them? :: But the computer was silent. It lay in ruin on the floor of her office. :: ::Genevieve’s message had been like a death knell. Was it some kind of disease or was it really some kind of curse, laid onto their family by some angry mystic? Alastriona walked over to a white couch and dropped onto it.:: DeTroyes: Superstition and nonsense. ::If it was some kind of familial plague, was she infected? Could she become infected? How long did she have? Shaking her head, Alastriona didn’t really care if she died. She began to cry. All that her family was, all that her family could have been today, all that they might have been, were gone.:: ::Truly, Alastriona was alone.:: ~*~ Ensign Alastriona De Troyes Science Officer Starbase 118 Ops O239609AD0 ((Disclaimer: All wicked, evil, dastardly comments by Alastriona are purely IC.))
  4. 1 point
    ((Secondary Sickbay – USS Narendra)) Malko: First thing's first, we need to find out how much Fairhug knows - and what the situation is on the bridge. For all we know they could be locked in combat with them now. Termine: Malko, Are you thinking what I'm thinking? ((Deck 2, Jefferies tube – USS Narendra)) Termine: Oh quit your whining, neither of us are equipped for a battle and we seem to have good luck in small tubes. Malko: I hope you know where you're going, the last time I followed you into a Jeffries I landed in hazardous material disposal. Prophets - I sound like B character in a fantasy movie. Also, do we need to crawl? Termine: That's true, it does make me feel a bit like a hamster… But it's our best shot at seeing if Fairhug is on the bridge and keeping safe — Ah! Here it is, the ladder to deck one. come on, keep it up doc, Malko: Why don't you let me peek first, you're still wearing a diplomat uniform - they'd take you hostage on sight. Termine: That's not a bad idea - But hold up one second I think we're nearing the bridge! They were thankfully only a few feet from the bottom of the ladder when the explosion pitched the ship sideways and the two slid off the slick aluminum alloy and into the catwalk below. Geysers of steam puffed intermittently as pressurized energy sources were damaged and diverted. Termine: Holy hell!! they're shooting at us. We need to get out of here! Malko: Stay down - and look for an access panel. Almost galloping on all fours, the counsellor scrambled behind Dante as he combed the well of the tube for some blades of light peeking in from the exterior. Dante swivelled and plunged his boots into the screws of a panel - it's bent form gave way and the officer slid out the hatch. Termine: *cough cough* Err…. Lietuenant JG Dante Termine reporting for duty. sir. Malko could hear Dante speaking to someone, but couldn't make out who it was. Fairhug: ? Termine: Well, just trying to play catch up sir - it looks as if you've got everything sorted out here. Sliding face first out of the hatch onto the bridge carpet, Malko did his best to hold his medical gown shut with one hand and salute with the other. If he only had a third to keep a grasp on his composure... Malko: Ha ha! Yes, sir - we came to make sure you're OK. And now that we see all is fine... Termine: Ah! Sorry, Malko is here too. Not exactly the entrance I wanted to make but, I guess the team's all back together again huh? Fairhug: ? Malko: Yes, it had dawned us we had been infiltrated, too. We had some theories about isolating the breach and getting to the bottom of how this all happened. Termine/Fairhug: ? Malko: With some cross-referencing of ship registry timelines pre and post intervention on the cult attack of Gorn, as we as some more detailed information about the status of the Narendra's Sickbay and its patients at the time of the... incident... we believe we can move to a better understanding of todays' events. Termine/Fairhug: ? Malko nodded at Dante, maybe their shore leave wasn't going to be a break from work after all... Malko: Understandable, we are eager to help anytime. Termine/Fairhug: ? Malko: Thank you, sir. We will leave you be... Termine, we can use my office - I need a change of clothes, anyway. Malko half bowed and gestured to the turbolift, backing out of the controlled chaos that was the bridge. Even in the midst of a crisis, the bridge crew volleyed tasks like a professional sports team - beginning to rebuild Malko's sense of safety he hadn't felt since the crash. ((OOC: wrapping up for shore leave, but we can continue this subject later!) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ LTJG Malko Counsellor Starbase 118 Ops A239508M10
  5. 1 point
    I really enjoy the banter between these two!!
  6. 1 point
    I love Star Trek and I'm hoping to develop my writing skills. I've been trying to get into the habit of writing more often for years. I made it a New Year's Resolution this year, so I guess that makes it official? I'm looking forward to exploring the galaxy with all of you!
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