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  1. 4 points
    Nicely framed, @Randal Shayne. Gentle hand as you tame that unruly yet majestic beast.
  2. 3 points
    The staff of UFOP: SB118 would like to congratulate all who saw their hard work and dedication pay off this month. Please be sure to congratulate these members when you see them around the forums and chat room! Thor Ben Garcia to Lt. Commander Alieth to Lieutenant JG Wes Greaves to 1st Lieutenant Want to learn more about advancing in rank like these hard-working fleet members? Check out our Promotions Guide on the wiki! The post Promotions for June appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  3. 2 points
    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
  4. 2 points
    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
  5. 2 points
    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.
  6. 2 points
    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
  7. 2 points
    Insert obligatory hatred of Faith of the Heart here But also This.
  8. 1 point
    The universe of Star Trek has given us some beautiful pieces of music. These iconic works of art embody the vastness of space and the wandering spirit of our favorite heroes as they traipse through the galaxy each week. The warbling tones of The Original Series reminded us of the other-worldly nature of their journey among the stars. The Next Generation brought a brassy and unforgettable tune that energized us for the story ahead. Each piece fit into an amazing tapestry of audible delight. And don't get us started on the movies! When Enterprise aired, however, many fans were split on the inclusion of music with lyrics - Russel Watson's "Where My Heart Will Take Me". For some, it is the perfect reflection of the explorer's creed. It reminds us that the intrepid explorers are on a mission that is led by their beating hearts. It is why they are out there among the stars and why we watch their exploits with such rapt attention. For others, it's something to be banished from memory. For our poll this week, we invite you to imagine that the ship or installation you serve on is the setting for a Star Trek television show. What would be the music playing over the opening credits? Let us know what music reflects the culture and ethos of your ship!
  9. 1 point
    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. 😀
  10. 1 point
    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
  11. 1 point
    T'Suran stepped off the transport, looking down on the heads of the cadets in front of them. They fidgeted, adjusting their uniform, and pulling the strap of their bag higher up on their shoulder. They walked onward, moving aside to avoid blocking the doorway, then made their way to a group of cadets sitting around a table. As they slid into a seat and placed a covered hand on the shoulder of the Betazoid cadet beside them, the conversation stopped. “Nolli.” they greeted softly “T'Suran! Hi! These are Ukod, Rusee, Bolal, and Carjed.” She said as she gestured around the table. T'Suran nodded in acknowledgment, noting the Betazoid, Saurian, Andorian, and Trill men. She continued speaking “Boys this is T'Suran. They helped me graduate.” The men seemed unimpressed. “Vulcan?” Bolal grunted curiously. They inclined their head minutely. “Mostly. Greetings.” they refocused their attention on Nolli. “Shall we go sign in? You had requested I accompany you.” She jumped up and replied happily. “Yep! Let's go!” She seized their hand and hauled them off towards the sign-in booth. T'Suran found themselves grateful for the gloves they wore. As the two approached the table, T'Suran paused to take their PADD out and gestured for Nolli to do the same. “Thanks, T'Suran.” “It was not a problem.” They reached the table and moved handed their PADD to the officer seated behind. “Cadet T'Suran? Half-Vulcan? 5'10" and 24 years of age?” T'Suran nodded at each question. “Look at this Bill, another Doctor. We just had a Caitian Doctor come through.” T'Suran stood formally while the officer finished reading through their information, frequently making comments. “All right Doctor you're all set. Run and get some food or something, you have around three hours.” T'Suran acknowledged and thanked him before moving to where Nolli was waiting. “So you want to go to get some food?” “If you wish” they acquiesced. The two moved towards the Turbolift, loading inside with several others. T'Suran observed that, despite the human majority, many of the rarer races could be found. They spotted a few who may be Vulcan judging by the pale skin and straight posture mirrored on their own body. As they stepped out into the commercial area they looked down at Nolli, noticing she was pulling on their sleeve. They tilted their head softly, asking what she wanted. "T'Suran? Can I braid your hair? It's so long and... Well, you know. It's blonde." They smiled softly at the excitable girl. "Of course you may. Thank you Nolli." They closed their pale brown eyes. The girl was much kinder than others who pointed out the features that made them so clearly hybrid.
  12. 1 point
    For me personally I think instrumental suits the Atlantis but it’s gotta be this piece.
  13. 1 point
    ((Holodeck 23, StarBase 118)) German had been feeling rather nostalgic about the moment when he started training as a cadet two years ago up until more recent days. A little over a year ago, the Denobulan was given the opportunity to become a training officer himself which was one of the more exciting things he enjoys doing. Any time the Academy Commandant would allow him to be either the training commanding officer, first officer, or disguised as a mock cadet, he’d waste little time to get ready to teach the future officers of Starfleet. One of his most memorable classes was with a Risian female cadet named Charlena Vanlith who he had read that she was making a name for herself in the Shoals aboard the USS Veritas. Knowing that there’d be a rough connection due to the tetryon fields that more often than not blocked any way of communication to be sent, German waited for a freighter to be shipped out from Ops to the Shoals. He had spoken with the owner of the freighter if he could send some communication beacon like probes and have them be placed in the direction he went out in space to hopefully be a temporary way to meet with Charlena. As he waited, German had figured up an encryption code so there'd be no way for anyone to break through the firewall. First, he typed in his Denobulan language, translated the first bit of coding to Klingon, and finished with a mix of Trill and El-Aurian. After a few weeks of radio silence, he had been given confirmation that the probe breadcrumbs were set and ready to be turned on. German approached the holodeck and punched in his encryption codes to turn on the bandwidth frequencies inside the probes and transmitted the data between his location to where the Veritas was. He glanced down at his PADD and watched with anticipation as each light illuminated signaling it was working, then German walked into the holodeck. Galven: Lieutenant Vanlith? Can you hear or see me? Vanlith: Commander Galven yes I can hear and see you. How is it on your end? They both had to configure their respective systems to get better holographic imaging software which gained momentum as it began updating. A few seconds went by and while it was still fuzzy in some areas, German could definitely make out the officer in front of him. Galven: Much better. ::smiles:: You're looking more exquisite by the day. Vanlith: ::smiling:: well it is good to see you. It's been far too long. Is it a year? Galven: I believe it has. Since then when we last saw each other during Mei'konda's promotional party, I'm now on Ops. ::chuckles:: Time flies. How have you been? Vanlith: I've been good. There's been some changes around here since then which took some getting used to. Teller and Addison leaving and now G'var is off. All for what is best for them so it's not too sad but it's definitely different. Less sea shanties in engineering now. He definitely could still hear Teller's sea shanties in his head whenever German tried to sleep. Being roommates was certainly an adventure. Galven: I understand how you must feel. My first post was the Veritas, then transferred to the Montreal which led me to the short lived Astraeus when just after a few short months, I was transferred to Ops without knowing a single person. It's certainly hard, but remember what you trained for. Sorry for talking so much. How are you holding up? Vanlith: I'm doing well. Engineering keeps me on my toes and with us just having dealt with pirates I'm happy that shore leave has come now. Gavlen: Pirates? What happened there? Vanlith: It's all rather complicated but some pirates turned up on the Veritas with a Blake from a different universe that they had cotton due to a spore drive. The spore drive had been stolen by a different pirate so we had to get it back. It's all rather weird. Charlena's hologram started to flicker a bit and every now and then while she was talking, there was a noticeable pause in between sentences. While German studied Terran history in primary school, a few of the holo-videos from the mid 20th century until the early 21st century had the same issue on Earth whenever the news was interviewing someone on a different continent. Galven: ::chuckles:: That's the nature of the game. We get involved with some rather… "unique" situations in our line of work. You mentioned an alternate Commander Blake, right? How's she and Captain Rahman doing? Vanlith: I’ll be honest I should probably get to know both of them better. I tend to keep relatively to myself or engineering so I need to branch out to say the least. From what I’ve seen of them they seem good. I know through the grapevine that Blake wasn’t happy with an alternate Blake on board. So I guess she’s still not happy as we still need to get her home. Charlena shuffled slightly and looked down. Recently she had realised how little time she spent with others on the ship and she knew she needed to do something about it. Having been on the ship for over a year she barely knew her own captain's first name let alone anything about her. And she was sure she somehow knew even less about Blake. Vanlith: Urm anyway what's going on for you over there? Even though they were many lightyears apart, German could hear the tone in her voice that Charlena sounded like she was disappointed by what she said. He could relate because there were plenty of people who were missed opportunities for him to get to know. He glanced down at his PADD as his fingers tapped on a few commands which materialized a couple chairs and the holodeck transformed into his apartment's living room on Ops. Although, it caused a few more energy sources which didn't help with the grainy, flickering hologram that was the young engineering officer. Galven: We've actually been on shoreleave for a couple weeks now. ::pauses, then takes a seat:: You're more than welcome to take a seat if you like? Vanlith: ::sitting down facing him:: And how has that been? Galven: ::nods:: Pretty eventful. We just recently received quite a few new ensigns as well as a Lt. Commander who actually served on the Veritas as well once upon a time. Did you ever get to meet an Alora DeVeau? Vanlith: I recognise the name, not sure we ever met. Galven: Well, as you know, I'm always one to help people adjust so I've unofficially become the starbase's tour guide. ::chuckles:: If you're ever this way, I'd love to give you a tour too! Vanlith: ::chuckling:: Tour guide Galven, you’ll be like Teller next. He gets confused as a bellhop, you’ll be a tour guide. Maybe I should open a hotel and hire you both. But in all seriousness a tour does sound nice if we are ever out your way. I would be nice to actually see you again. And no borg tribbles this time. A smirk formed on the right side of his lips. One of his more memorable training classes in the Academy was with Charlena when she took her final exam. Everything was going just as it was programmed to do until a slight curveball came into their way. Galven: ::chuckles:: Hey, I think that was a nice addition to a fairly boring class up until someone couldn't help herself when she picked up that tribble. Vanlith: ::chuckling pretending to be defensive:: Hey it was cute and fluffy. For all I knew it posed no threat. Galven: No, it didn't have to be a Borg tribble. ::smiles:: The look on your face was priceless when you first saw it. Have you come across any more troubling tribbles? Vanlith: No tribbles as of yet. It would be funny but I think I’d get in trouble for trying to keep one. Galven: ::rubs his ridged chin and sticks his index finger upward:: Tell you what! I believe there's a supply freighter about to leave drydock soon heading to the Shoals. The starbase has a pet store that has tribbles. Would you like one? It's a gift from me to you so I'm not taking no for an answer. ::pretends to appear stern by furrowing his eyebrows, but smiling in the process:: Vanlith: Are you serious? Charlena could feel the shock written across her face. She couldn’t believe that he was actually offering her a pet. She was sure BAXTER wouldn’t mind and that was the only possible hesitation to her. A pet tribble would be a brilliant fluffy companion and she could imagine the look on Wil’s face if it turned up in engineering with no warning. She was sure that would be a laugh. Galven: Which part? That there's a supply freighter or the tribble gift? Vanlith: You’re going to get me a tribble? Galven: ::nods:: Of course. I'll send you the shipping information and its expected delivery date. Vanlith: That's amazing. I’d love a tribble. And it sure would be a story to explain why to everyone. Plus as I recall the Borg tribble loved me so I’m sure a normal tribble would too. German was enjoying how excited she was which he got a kick out. Just as he was about to speak, a holographic chronometer illuminated up and behind Charlena's head which started a countdown at a minute and a half. It seemed like their meeting was about to run its course. Galven: Also, I want to let you know that the tribble I'm sending you is "fixed" so there's not going to be a million little furballs once it gets to you. ::smirks:: Vanlith: Just because I now know that doesn’t mean I won’t amuse myself in engineering before I tell the others ::chuckling:: Galven: ::laughs:: Let me know what happened when you tell your colleagues about it. ::clears his throat:: Listen, we don't have much time left because the tetryon levels seem to be affecting our connection. I noticed that the Veritas is just starting shoreleave, correct? Vanlith: Yeah that's right. Why do you ask? Galven: Given how intense the mission was for you and the crew, I would suggest that you try to connect more with everyone. It really does help, at least for me, to decompress by collaborating with others. Would you mind doing that? Not just for my own sake, but for you as well. Vanlith: Still giving me advice and direction even now. For you, sure. I really should get to know the others better. Maybe even have a chat with someone I don’t really talk to outside of being on duty. Galven: ::smiles:: Perhaps that someone could be your Captain. I know that whenever we came back from a mission, she would either take a nightly stroll to the library and Rahman loved it when a certain Ensign would bring her coffee. I mean, where else did Teller come up with the Brew Continuum? ::points to himself, smirks:: Vanlith: Coffee to the Captain. Is it really that easy? Galven: Of course! Roshanara is very approachable. Even more so when there's that fresh aroma hitting her nose. Vanlith: Well, I will remember that. Fresh coffee in the library. Thanks Charlena smiled rather thankful of the advice, she was more nervous of the Captain then she was willing to admit. It wasn’t because she was scared of her but more that she was worried she would say something wrong. Galven: It looks like our time is up so before we're disconnected, let her and everyone else I said hello. ::stands up:: Also, don't be a stranger and maybe we can send PADDmail back and forth between us. Oh, and Charlena? Vanlith: That sounds good. What? Galven: Optimism, Lieutenant! ::dons his signature Denobulan wide grin:: Vanlith: ::smiling herself:: And you Commander, hopefully we can see each other soon. ---- LT. JG Charlena Vanlith ( @Sophie290999 ) Engineering Officer USS Veritas V239604CV0 & Lt. Commander @German Galven 2O/Chief Science Officer StarBase 118 - USS Narendra V239507GG0
  14. 1 point
    I would like for USS Arrow something like this music. A little Idyllic I know, but... It´s my liking. 🥳
  15. 1 point
  16. 1 point
  17. 1 point
    Sami's quarters been mentioned several times, but during shoreleave it's usually the location the ship is at. This reminds me, I always write that Sami likes to try new holodeck programs, yet I've never written her inside a holodeck so far. 🤣 Hm, or maybe just once.
  18. 1 point
    Man, this has been hanging in my drafts for far too long, waiting for a good edit! This is what happens when I've suddenly got no admin to do! @Quinn Reynolds - In the time I've known you, you've been a wonderful Captain and an excellent friend; a soft-hearted goofball like no other, a goober for all seasons, fair, open-minded, conscientious, and with the patience of a saint. I'm always impressed by your unfailing devotion to the crew and community, to your staff in all the OOC roles you have, to those in your leadership scope in all facets of the CC and EC, and those who look up to you as the pinnacle of the kind of Captain they want to be. I could not even begin to imagine what you do on a daily basis to help keep this fleet ticking over. That Vice Admiral belt is a heavy one and one I don't think many would know how to cope with. Even when things get challenging and there's trouble at t'mill, you were still encouraging change, focusing on the good things, seeing the best in people. I loved Tony's presentation for you, reading all that history because as your crew, we can feel it threading through everything we do - that consistent strive to be more inclusive, to collaborate more, to think of the fleet as a whole from the start and participate in making it great, to challenge ourselves, and it's why we've got such a cracking ship of simmers who want to help everywhere they can. We work together as a whole. There are so many people across our community who tell me how lucky I am to be your XO and I damn well know it. Here's to you, boss, and all the gin! @Roshanara Rahman - Rich, my dude, you're ace. Thank you for doing everything you do in the Fleet and bringing that unbridled energy into your projects. I love your passion for new ideas and bringing them in with a resounding thunder. I'm really looking forward to seeing where you go in the future and what you do; all that energy has to get funnelled somewhere right? Another Bridge Crew night is on the cards. Me and Blake need to take you and Quinn to school. Bridge School. In all seriousness, thank you for being the tolerant, kindhearted soul you are. Your crew is lucky to have you. Somewhere, there's a Jacuzzi... @Oddas Aria - You've got a wonderful technical mind, a cool soul for projects, and bring a spark to anything you turn your hand to. I loved one of your nominations and I can't paraphrase this and do it any justice, so, "Innovation and adaptation are his unmatched strong suits, and under him, crews have flourished and stories have blossomed, relationships have developed and skills have been gained.... He is humble, exceedingly competent and possessed of a fighting spirit." I really enjoyed participating in the final swings of Capstone and it was a good framework for similar projects in the future, yet again showing where you're paving the way forward for the fleet. It's been rad how you've brought the Captain-At-Large role into the forefront, and one day I will pick your brains over a surgery session. Until then, keep being awesome! @Jarred Thoran - I had the auspicious task of trying to follow you up from last year, and I don't think these Wellington boots you left me with fit all that well for the FLOODS OF NOMINATIONS. It's been so cool to see you take command of the Atlantis and come into a Captain of your own forging this past year, and I know you've got great things ahead. All your nominations weren't shy about how you are a champion of your crew, capable, fair and always willing to listen to their ideas. You're a fantastic leader and the continued success of the Atlantis proves it. Well done, mate. Looking forward to that beer we'll have in the green, green grass of home! @Sal Taybrim - Diplomacy isn't the easiest thing to do sometimes, but you do it well with a level head and an open mind. The nominations I read spoke about how you are the driving force behind Ops, how you mentor with a firm but a steady hand and offer the chance for change to those wise enough and willing to take it. You're behind the scenes being supportive, considerate, stirring and determined, with a wealth of experience in roleplaying that comes through. It's clear to see Ops loves you as a leader and the community wouldn't be the same without you. Congratulations! @Randal Shayne - Ma boi levelled up! Seriously proud of the achievements you've made this year in everything you've done. Of all the chats we've had over this past twelve months, it's been evident how much you care about the group, how much you want to give something back by encouraging the best out of your crew no matter the ship you're on (and our of your friends, too!), and now you get to do exactly that with your own. You are, without doubt, one of the kindest and sharpest people, constant and unwavering support for everything out of character that goes on behind the scenes, and I'm so glad you've got your wings. Go forth, Captain! Do as the Captains do! Always choose the lesser of two weevils! I can't let this go by without saying how much I appreciate you both, here. @Jalana, you're an amazing Captain with an awesome crew, who does so much for keeping our Image Collective inspired, I don't know how you've got the creative energy sometimes. It's been one incredible year doing a deep dive into that with you and finding I've got a friend just over that border to the east. Nominations talked about how you keep high morale, the driving force and "consistent leader, mentor and diplomat" to help your crew shine, how you're a cornerstone of the Fleet, and that's just about as true as it gets. You're excellent and I hope this goes some way to show it! @Tony (Kells), you have been so cool in helping behind the scenes with this award season, I can't even begin. Thank you for your lovingly written presentations for everyone, for that reminder where the Fleet has come from and where the future lies. You had some wonderful nominations which talked about the new flair and dedication you brought to the Captain's Council Magistrate position, and the great changes you've brought about there in aiding collaborative discussion. I've had an earworm for the past six months telling me how amazing you are as a Captain and it's not hard to see when your crew have such energy, passion and dedication to the fleet — your crew is right there behind you with a resounding thunderous roar from the Thor. Thank you for being awesome! @FltAdml. Wolf, so, about next year... ::runs::
  19. 1 point
    Aly - I know I'm writing this scene with you, but I want you to know that you are doing a wonderful job of realistically portraying Sheila and her struggles. Your narrative here is growing ever stronger, and more compelling and I am so engaged in her struggles. You have done a fantastic job! <3 OOC - This sim has mention of abuse, not graphic. All thoughts and opinions are of that of my character. ((CO’s Office – The Hub – StarBase 118)) Bailey: It should. Sheila knew that she was sliding backwards. When she left home for the academy she didn’t have a reminder of her Uncle. Maybe that was because she was getting used to a whole new level of gravity. Her Uncle didn’t even come up when she was first posted to Federation starship. She guessed that her mind had just been strong for too long and it was finally time to face what he had done to her. Overall she was in a constant internal battle where she had a desire to be strong. That was now coming up against that small voice in her head that threw back everything her Uncle said to her; put it right back into her face. Taybrim: ::Gently:: And why would you say that? Bailey: I’ve struggled, in my younger years, to not believe all the abusive things my Uncle told me. Not hurt myself in similar ways. Sal nodded, showing that he was listening. Sheila appreciated that. Taybrim: That is one of the most difficult things you will grapple with. But you can overcome it. Could she overcome what he had done to her? In a way it would always be with her but she could get to a point that it would no longer bother her, that the thoughts would no longer come up and that she would no longer feel she would have to tell her commanding officers what had happened. Those thoughts didn’t come as a surprise to her. She knew the medical science behind what she was going through as she studied it in her training. Sal however made it all that much more real. He spoke reassuringly. He didn’t sugar coat anything. Bailey: I feel that if someone tells you, you are a failure so many times one can not only start believing that but acting like that as well. Taybrim: It is, most unfortunately, a natural part of a being’s ability to learn that means that if you are taught something with enough repetition – including a destructive lie, that the brain will pick up that pattern and absorb it. You are not weak for that, you are simply sentient and capable of learning – a trait that your abuser took advantage of. Sheila was now feeling very uncomfortable. She had told other people but never in this much detail. It physically hurt. Not like the panic she felt during the mission but much more like someone was squeezing her. She pulled off her sweater leaving it on the floor by her chair. She also realized that yes her Uncle had taken advantage of her. He took advantage of her in so many different ways. He had told her that no one other than him would want her. That she couldn’t outshine others; that would draw too much attention to her. Lead to mistakes. And everytime she did something he didn’t approve of he showed her physically that she had messed up. Usually what he did was pull at her hair and throw her around. It would give her a loss of control. These uncomfortable thoughts had her telling her friend, who was sitting across from her, about the worst thing he had done to her. Bailey: I have a permanent reminder of what he did. Under her sweater she was wearing a simple white tank top which made it easier for her to show Sal the small white but still visible scar that she has on her upper spine. She turned around in her chair to do so. The scar didn’t hurt anymore but it left a slight phantom pain anytime she brushed her fingers along it. She was only glad that it was in a hard to reach location as well as in a place that she couldn’t see when she looked in the mirror. Bailey: You see that there? That small white scar? He did that to me and it won’t go away. ::her voice sounded desperate:: Taybrim: I am so very sorry, Sheila. ::His voice was tender, soft.:: No one deserves to have that sort of pain and abuse done to them. No one deserves to have that reminder carried with them. No one as bright or as compassionate as you ever deserves to have their world twisted by an abuser. I am so very sorry. Sal wasn’t faking his honest sympathy. Bailey: I know I don’t deserve what he did to me. ::she turned to get more comfortable in her seat:: I just...feel like I’m stuck in this endless loop of failure. It feels hopeless right now. Taybrim: No ::He shook his head gently, watching her move back into a more comfortable position.:: I don’t think it is hopeless or that you will fail in your career. I think you are farther along the path to recovery than you think you are, but I also know that yes, the road ahead is difficult. Bailey: It’s going to be hard. I know that for a hard cold fact. I studied about the subject in medical school. It’s however not the same thing as fighting the criminals of Starfleet. We go after then as we have strong evidence as to them committing criminal acts. My Uncle, he not only hurt me but after he would tell me how good I was or how much I wanted it. Words like that. Working in Starfleet was easy as they had clear reasons to go after the people they did. Bailey herself knew that the “death fog” was deadly based on its chemical makeup, so in her mind it was a clear black line of bad. With her Uncle however he seemed to go back and forth between black and white so quickly and easily that she wasn’t sure if it really was his intention to hurt her. What she later learned was that yes he did have a reason to hurt her and her sisters. Of course he hurt them less then her but that never made that any easier. Taybrim: I believe in you. I know you can do this. Again, you’ve already taken the first step – you recognize what your Uncle did and you called it out – abuse. You can see it, and you can talk to people about it – that’s not easy and it shows you are strong and brave. Sal’s tone was firm, reassuring. Bailey: I’ve told those I felt had a right to know. I still find it hard to tell myself that I was told lies my whole life. Even when I do it doesn’t make it better. Taybrim: You learned these abusive things through repetition, continually being taught them. You can unlearn them through repetition and continually being taught something else. And, you’re right – simply telling yourself that it’s a lie won’t help. You can know that it’s a lie and still feel those emotional welling within you because you’ve been taught that guilt and shame by a horrible person. You have to unlearn those basic responses. The Elaysian woman hardly knew what to say at that. In all honesty she felt a bit choked up. Her body was cold but if she put her sweater back on she felt like she would overheat. With that she left her sweater on the floor. It was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Sheila could feel the anticipation of what Sal was going to say. Throughout their conversation it was the first time she hadn’t spoken which got her mind thinking in a million different directions. Taybrim: This may be the hardest part for you. You are a medical officer, a compassionate soul who is dedicated to caring for others. But you need to re-establish your own sense of self beyond what your Uncle taught you. That means setting up a sense of self-preservation where you reinforce the self you believe in when your Uncle’s voice haunts you. ::He leaned forward a bit to explain.:: The reason this will feel so difficult for you is because you will need to be a little selfish. You may not be able to endure other’s emotional trauma while you are protecting yourself and re-establishing a new sense of self outside of your Uncle’s abuse. Sheila Bailey didn’t completely freak out at Sal’s words. From the tension she felt she thought he was going to tell her that she was going to have to step away from Starfleet for a time. If she left she was going to break down fully no doubt about it. But was that what Sal was meaning? She wasn't sure. Sheila figured that he didn’t but thinking about it she in fact didn’t know. Her brain was torn between what she knew and what she felt. In the end her feelings won out. Her feelings won out to the point that she started tearing up. Bailey: You're not asking me to quit my job are you? Taybrim: Response Bailey: I...I don’t understand. Taybrim: Response Bailey: Okay..Okay..::Sheila was taking deep breaths as she spoke. Her breath was shaky however, making her feel slightly more uncomfortable:: Let me backup. My Uncle abused me. That is a fact. Sheila was trying to recap some of what they had talked about in order to try and understand what Sal, her friend, was asking her. Make sure those feelings that had her thinking she was going to have to quit could lose. If she broke it down then they would lose and she would be left knowing what she knew all along. That Sal was only asking her to limit herself and know her boundaries. And throughout their conversation he was guiding her through finding herself in a way that didn’t connect to her abuser. Taybrim: Response Bailey: I know it could affect my work, not that I’m going to let it. I am a compassionate person and work strongly in helping others. You’ve just got my brain fighting against my heart. I know your not asking or even telling me to quit right? Taybrim: Response As she listened to the man in front of her talk she went about wiping her eyes, her breathing slowing. She had just been confronted with her biggest fear but she knew the right outcome even through the confusion. Sheila was glad that she had taken a step back and asked for clarification. Bailey: Thank you. I’m just so scared. How do I move forward when I work in medicine? Taybrim: Response TBC/TAG Lieutenant JG Sheila Bailey Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops M239512BG0
  20. 1 point
    I haven't laughed so hard in a long time! 🤣 Great job, Nyka! ========================================== ((USS Juneau - Sickbay)) Wyss: I gotta know… gotta know if it worked. There was no way she was going to rest until she found out if the syphon was a success. There was also no way she could fight the hands that were ushering her back to the biobed. All she could do to resist was kind of cling to the person so that she didn’t take an embarrassing nose dive straight to the floor. Bellweather:::pulling the blanket up:: Relax Kid, Cadfael has things well in hand, we're all safe'n'sound...thanks to you ::squeezing her shoulder. As soon as Nyka hit the biobed, she gave up the fight and reached for her aching head. Wyss: Uhhgn… why do I feel like I drank the warp core? Bellweather:::smirking:: more like swam through it Luv. ::patting her arm:: you're lucky Karise was here, she saved your life. The use of Doctor Indobri’s first name caused a hiccup in Nyka’s brain for a split second. Personally, Nyka had never called the Rodulan Karise so it took a moment to figure out who she was talking about. That alone added to the crap factor of how she felt. Wait… what the hell was a Cadfael? Was it an acronym for something? Was this dark haired woman named Cadfael? There were so many questions running through the Nyka’s fried head in that singular moment, but she was only able to pluck the most important one from the muck. Wyss: What happened? Indobri: oO You died! That’s what happened! Oo The engineer winced at the painful words. Each one seemed to pierce her skull like a stabby little icepick. The origin of the voice wasn’t clear, but she gathered it was her own conscious yelling at how stupid she had been. Bellweather:::raising a brow:: Outstanding question. I'm not a hundred percent sure what happened but the CHENG was able to keep us from blowing up. As for you, you're out of immediate danger, but will need a lot of rest. My hope is there is no permanent damage ::smiling warmly:: time will tell. Cheng? Was that a person? No, not Cheng. THE CHENG. The Chief Engineer. They had a Chief Engineer? Since when? Just how long had she been unconscious? Wyss: ::sighing:: Ugh. Nothing makes sense... She was trying to recall the events in the M/ARA, but the fragmented information she was hearing only made things more fuzzy and confusing. Nyka’s tone was lit with a heavy shadow of gloom. Her brain felt like it was in a thick fog. Bellweather:::holding her hand:: Hey, I'm right here and so is Karise. ::squeezing her hand:: I don't give up on my patients and I don't expect them to give up on themselves. ::smiling:: You're never alone. Wyss’s hazel eyes drifted up to the… was she a doctor or a nurse? There were two full pips on her collar. She was a Lieutenant. Bingo! That had to count for something. But having come from a place where medical types weren’t to be trusted, Nyka found herself reverting back to that way of thinking. In that moment she actually found herself wishing that Indobri was there, even if it meant tip-toeing around awkward subjects. Wyss: You sound like a stalker. A flat joke. It was the best she could muster to hide her uncertainty about the woman, and well… every-damn-thing. Bellweather:::laughing:: I may have gotten a little jingoistic ::winking:: all the best Doctors do Kid. ::smiling warmly:: As for you just sit back and rest, the Ship is fine, so I'm giving you permission to focus on yourself. ::digging into a pocket:: Here take this and I'll be right back with something for you to drink ::holding out another blue lollipop:: Trust me I'm The Doctor. That answered that question. She was a Doctor. Her name was Doctor Cadfael. Nyka absently twisted the stick of the blue lollipop in her fingers, and then gave a lopsided frown at the cartoon Band-Aid on the back of her hand. She almost smiled at it, but pulled her gaze toward a familiar voice. Indobri: Well, look who has returned to the land of the living! The smile Nyka gave her was soft and welcoming. She was actually grateful to the Rodulan for the humor, and a great many other things. Indobri: You know, if you wanted to get my attention, all you needed to do was buy me a few drinks. Stopping your heart probably wasn’t the best choice. Was Indobri flirting with her, or was Nyka delusional? It was probably best to give a neutral reply. Wyss: Sorry about that. She looked down at the lollipop, and then it registered what was said. Wyss: Wait, did I die? Indobri: ? Nyka was entirely buying it. She remembered passing out a couple of times, but dead? Wyss: Like… a little dead? Or a lot dead? You mean, somewhere in-between dead and not-dead? Like undead? Indobri: ? Wyss: Oh. That kinda sucks. Yep. That sounded seriously serious. The redhead paused in thought and then gradually started to ease a smile. It was customary in her universe to do one thing every time something like this happened. Wyss: So, good news. That makes today officially my new birthday thanks to you. There will be a mandatory party when I get out of here. That definitely wasn’t the standard reaction after having left this plane of existence. Usually somebody might pause and reflect, or somber at their own mortality. Maybe it would hit her harder later, but right now she was feeling pretty dang lucky. She held up a finger to stop any comments. Wyss: But for now… can you sit with me for a moment? oO Don’t say no, don’t say no, don’t say no. Oo There was something she needed to say, and if she waited any longer it was just going to become awkward again. What was coming probably was a bit of a reflection on her life, or better yet a correction. Indobri: ? The redhead scooted over on the bed allowing a space for her to sit. There was a moment of hesitation, mostly to gather her nerve, but also to find some strength physically and mentally to put the words together. Conversation wasn’t exactly easy to produce, but if she didn’t say it now, then it might not ever get said. Wyss: I’m… oO Don’t be an [...], just say it. Oo Wyss: I’m sorry for the way I left things the other morning, ::frown:: and every day after. Like ripping off the Klingon band-aid on her hand. Fast and more painful than it’s supposed to be. Indobri: ? Wyss: Wait, just let me finish. ::beat:: I like you. Like, really like you, and I enjoyed our night together. ::blushing:: Like, really enjoyed it. Oh, for frak’s sake she sounded like a stupid teenage girl. She quickly ran a hand over her face in frustration. This was going poorly. Time to make a course correction. Wyss: Okay, I’m just going to lay it all out. I suck at relationships. I avoid them like the plague. They usually end horribly for me, and I freaked out the other morning because well… If I’m being honest, I don’t usually stick around that long afterwards. Not that I do that kind of thing a lot, but… oh hell. ::it just went from weird to humiliating:: Forget that last part. So here it is, I’d like to get to know you better, and I don’t know maybe we just don’t label it anything right now. You know, in case… I don’t know whatever. ::beat:: That sounded better in my head, and this was a bad idea, and I was dead so I’m not sure what I’m saying. You probably have patients to check on. There. That was an easy out for both of them. Ensign Nyka Wyss Engineering Officer USS Juneau Author ID I238301T10
  21. 1 point
    Man, Raga is really on top of it with this one! She's the bad guy you hate to love. Great job!
  22. 1 point
    Oh my goodness! The masterfulness of this is beyond words. XD So good. It's not hard to immensely dislike. Well crafted, @Toryn Raga ((Mephinii Spaceport, Illara Prime)) Zhelrad: Oh. Look. More Starfleet. Are you renovating the Administrator's office in preparation for your invasion? ::She spat at the Atlanteans, then glanced to the Naylari:: There you are Brex. I believe you've been avoiding me Representative. Brex: ::smiles:: Of course not, Ambassador. I very much enjoyed our conversation earlier. I was simply consulting with the Federation officers on important matters. Ganarvuss: There’s no invasion here, Minister. We have been assisting Representative Brex with conference security, as requested by the Freeworld Council prior to our arrival on Ilara. Marie: ::Nodding her head in agreement:: We are only here to help. Minister nothing more. ::Smiles:: While the meddlesome Starfleeters attempted to assuage her with platitudes of their honest intent, the Minister scowled at them all. She'd seen the reports on this Atlantis. She knew what had happened on Tibro. Of their involvement in inciting a coup between the Grand Admiral turned 'ambassador' and other decent Valcarians. The facade of good intentions and honor, selflessness was something she could see through. All of it was nothing more than a polite means of conquest. But it wouldn't be the Federation that would own the Expanse. No, the Valcarian Empire had the divine right to rule over all. Brex: I apologize, Minister, that these matters have resulted in me being indisposed. However, as soon as the situation has been resolved, I would be happy to speak with you on whatever topic you’d like. Logan: response Zhelrad: This is a trade conference. And we are both trade representatives, are we not? It's in poor form for such proceedings to ignore your duties lax my dear Brex. We can't have you following Treyla's example here. ::She said, taking another jab at her aide:: Treyla remained silent, but glared daggers at the Valcarian's back. Marie: ::glance in Lephi direction and then to the others:: Let us just create some distance and please refrain from snide comments. The young junior officer's comment elicited a derisive scowl from the Valcarian woman. She looked the brown haired Terran up and down slowly, the way one might eye an unruly pet that was doing something out of turn. That the low ranked individual would even deign to speak to her as if they were anywhere near equal status was an affront itself. Ganaravuss: On the contrary, Minister, Representative Brex has been attending to his duties as security liaison exceptionally well, especially given the absence of the station’s security director. Logan: response Zhelrad: Convenient that the Administrator is suddenly unavailable right after the Federation shows up. Marie: ::speaking softly to Zhelrad:: Do you not think any negotiation would be better in the open? where no words can be taken as insult. Lephi: ::muttering:: We can probably handle this without you, Representative. The Valcarian was now actively ignoring the brunette in teal uniform. She was of the lowest rank to be considered an officer among her own organization and as such, not worthy of speaking with such an illustrious personage such as Myrine Zhelrad. She didn't see a single Starfleeter of appropriate rank among those assembled. Unless the scant few pips on their collars marked any of them for Admirals, or Commodores. Even a Captain would be something. So she kept her focus on the Naylari. Ganarvuss: Indeed, Representative. I would certainly prefer to question the Minister’s staff without her watching over their shoulders. Brex: ::steps forward:: Now, let us all take a step back. I’m certain Minister Zhelrad is just as concerned with ascertaining what has happened here. ::to Zhelrad:: If you would be so kind, we would like to speak with each member of your staff separately. Zhelrad: I care not for the excuses of lesser beings. ::She glares at Logan:: I'm here to talk trade. Now, shall we find some place to converse away from unscrupulous eyes, or do the Naylar have no interest in commerce? ::She gave a hard look at Ganarvuss:: And you'll do no such thing. My staff are barely competent as it is without being detained from their duties by the likes of you. Brex: ::inclines his head:: We do have others we are looking to speak with as well. However, as this is still an ongoing investigation, I’m not at liberty to reveal who these individuals are. I’m certain you understand, Minister. ::smiles:: We wouldn’t want any perceptions of bias nor would we want to risk tipping off the party actually responsible should they be nearby listening. The Valcarian's brow raised but that irate scowl did not diminish in the slightest. Lephi: Representative Brex has been a boon to our investigation so far, I'm certain that once this is resolved, commerce discussions can be held in a good natured way. For now, please let us work. Marie: ::Gently placing her hand on minster shoulder:: Indeed. We only wish to figure what has happened here. Surely you can understand that? The instant she felt the woman's hand on her shoulder she recoiled as if she had been burned by acid. The sheer look of incredulity on her face spoke volumes. If it wasn't evident before, the woman considered herself of a station far beyond all of them and to be touched by one of them unwarranted was akin to being bitten by a stray animal. Zhelrad: You'd do well to keep your hands to yourself, girl. ::She sneered:: You may fool the others but I know what's going on here. Using these disturbances to assert yourselves in these proceedings. The Empire will not take such interference lightly. Logan: Response Ganarvuss: Regarding the safety of the conference and the whereabouts of its security director. Surely nothing that concerns someone of such pomp and circumstance as yourself, Minister Myrine Zhelrad. Myrine's gaze snapped to the woman in the gold collar and her brow furrowed, gaze narrowing on the woman. She knew a condescending comment when she heard one, the Minister had loosed more than her share in her lifetime. Brex: I believe we have wasted enough of your precious time, Minister. Certainly you have more pressing matters to attend to. ::glances at Treyla:: We will speak with your aide first I think. Zhelrad: I will not forget this insult. ::She said in a cold tone, glancing to all of them in turn:: Fine. Take her. She barely does her job as it is, I'll hardly notice she'd absent. With that the Valcarian Minister stormed down the corridor in a huff. These Starfleeter's were an insidious and encroaching weed, threatening to ruin the Empire's divine rule. Someone would have to rip them out before long. Myrine left Treyla and the others behind and went back into the common area. Perhaps she could still salvage this day and arrange some trade deals. And when she was done, she'd have to send a communique back to the homeworld. The Emperor must be told of just how much of a threat this Federation was to his divine rule. END ========================================================= Minister Myrine Zhelrad Valcarian Trade Representative Antar & Treyla Vosh Illaran Adjunct and Assistant to Minister Myrine Zhelrad simmed by Lieutenant Commander Toryn Raga Mission Specialist/Second Officer USS Atlantis NCC-74682 PodCast Team Member Training Team Member Atlantis Staff Member Writer ID: A239410TR0 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Toryn_Raga
  23. 1 point
    Totally depends on the character! I get the best character development when I'm writing with someone else, getting that bounce back and forth that makes you question the character's motivations.
  24. 1 point
    @Dassa Alexander-Dalton I thoroughly enjoyed all of the descriptions in this sim! I found it thoroughly gripping and I just wished I could keep reading. So intense! ((Outside the Service Entrance, Conference Center)) ((Short Timeskip)) The closer they got to the place where Lyra had last seen the assailant, the more nervous she became. Her gaze flickered around the area near constantly, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon in case she needed to defend herself. She was more likely to [...] them off than to do any real damage, but at the very least she could provide a temporary distraction while someone with more training incapacitated them. She jumped at the sound of voices around her. She’d been so lost in thought that she had forgotten who was around her. th’Koro: Doctor, you okay? Journs: ::exhales a shaky sigh:: I’m fine. This whole situation was making her very nervous. They were all exposed and there was no way to predict the lengths the spy would go to in order to keep from being found out. Clearly, whoever it was had a poor moral compass and likely wouldn’t think anything of killing anyone who got in their way. Journs: ::to Lyra:: Through that entrance? Tralan: Response th’Koro: Looks good to me. Thoran: Let us continue then. Remember, keep your guard up and watch for anything. Bjørge / McKnight / R’Val / Tralan: Response Her ears perked up at a clicking sound from the door and she heard shuffling that sound like someone dragging something along the floor. She turned to her commanding officer who was putting in a good deal of effort to open the door. She allowed Amuro to enter first before she followed behind. The others were behind her. A faint chirp caught her attention and she turned. A commbadge. th’Koro had been on the verge of entering the room apparently when it had sounded. Kiax: =/\= Kiax to Lieutenant Knight, Ensign Lephi and Ensign th’Koro; I have a request to make of the three of you. =/\= While th’Koro took the comm call, Ishka took the opportunity to study the room they were in. Nothing about it really stood out beyond the posters along the walls. However, she was too distracted by her thoughts to pay much attention to the contents. They were in a semi-dark room with no way of defending themselves. th’Koro: You probably heard that, sir. With permission I will need to head to the MSD and complete the shutdown. Without the virus, it is unlikely that the spy can complete their mission. She grimaced, feeling even more nervous. Of the group, the Captain, th’Koro, R’Val and McKnight were their most experienced fighters. Having one of them depart, regardless of the reason, increased the chances whoever they were tracking could cause one of them injury before they even knew what was happening. Thoran: Carry on Mr. th’Koro. Stay safe and keep comms open. Watching th’Koro leave, she felt her heart jump to her throat and her stomach plummet. She released a shaky exhalation in an attempt to calm her nerves. Her first semester at the Academy had been rough. The officer put in charge of her group of incoming cadets had given no quarter. She’d always suspected that he’d been applying pressure to see if she’d quit. A few around her had packed their bags for home within the first week. Some had lasted a few weeks longer, but in the end they’d done the same. The recruiters had put stars in their eyes with promises of exploring and meeting new species. However, those realities quickly dissolved as they learned just what they were committing to when they’d signed their papers. She’d come from a world of order and peace, so naturally hearing about the wars and incidents throughout the galaxy over the centuries had been a shock. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she really didn’t have much of a home to return to, she’d have likely followed in the footsteps of the departed. Studying their current surroundings, she had the distinct feeling that was nothing to what she could come face to face with here. This was a real danger. It wasn’t some holodeck or battle simulation. Lives were really on the line here. Thoran: Lyra, do you recall which direction they headed in? The Captain’s voice drew her attention back to the situation at hand and she mentally shook the thoughts from her mind. She had a duty to perform and couldn’t afford distractions. Tralan: Response Bjørge / McKnight / R’Val: Response She followed silently, reaching for the tricorder holstered at her side. They hadn’t brought weapons, but as a medical officer, a tricorder was an essential piece of equipment. Her medical kit was back in their suite should they need it. It was her sincere hope that they didn’t. The sound of shattering glass caused her to wince. It was loud, but not loud enough to keep her from gauging the distance. She stopped, listening closely for any other sounds that would give more clues as to what had broken the glass. There were voices, distant and indistinguishable, but they were there nonetheless. Her gaze narrowed as she tried to determine from the timber and the tone if they were male or female. Thoran: Any idea what that room is? Tralan: Response Bjørge / McKnight / R’Val: Response She saw the Captain’s gaze shift in the direction of the sound and her grip tightened on the tricorder. A glance at it revealed two lifeforms, but something was interfering with the device’s ability to get a clear read on their physiology and their exact location. The others lined up alongside the wall beside the door and she followed suit, adjusting the settings on her tricorder all the while keeping an ear out for trouble. A loud noise disrupted her focus and she looked up. It all happened so quickly that she wasn’t entirely sure what had occurred until she looked down to find the captain lying on the floor in a pool of liquid. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a sharp breath as she scanned the liquid with her tricorder. Blood. Journs: ::to the others:: He’s bleeding heavily. We have to move quickly. ::to Tralan:: Look around for some kind of clean fabric to apply pressure and slow the bleeding. Tralan: Responses Journs: ::to McKnight and R’Val:: I need something sterile to create an incision and something to cauterize the wound. Something hot. McKnight / R’Val: Response Journs: ::to Bjørge:: I left my medkit in our suite. Run as fast as you can to get it. It has medicines that we need. Keep an open comm line. Bjørge: Response As the others got to work on their tasks, she studied the captain and noted a tear in his uniform on his abdomen. Grabbing the edges, she used her strength to rend the fabric to get a clear look at the injury. Journs: oO Sorry, sir. I’ll replace it out of my rations. Oo She exhaled slowly, trying to focus. There was a lot of blood. Studying the dispersal, it was mostly from the abdominal wound. She’d been worried that some came from the collision of his head onto the hard floor. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t hemorrhaging there. Picking up her tricorder again, she began scanning his body for injuries. It wasn’t as detailed as a medical tricorder, but it would have to do until Ensign Bjørge returned with her kit. She noted all of the landmark symptoms of intracranial bleeding, but due to the severity of his injuries, she just couldn’t be sure until she either had a medical tricorder in her hand or until she beamed him back to the ship for a more detailed analysis of his condition. Journs: ::taps her commbadge:: =/\= Journs to Serala. =/\= Serala: =/\= Response =/\= Journs: =/\= The Captain has sustained serious injuries. I’m still working on determining the extent of them. But there’s a lot of blood. He needs to be stabilized quickly and beamed back to the ship. =/\= Serala: =/\= Response =/\= Journs: =/\= He might very well need surgery. If I had the weapon that caused the injury, it would go a long way toward determining what happened. =/\= Serala: =/\= Response =/\= Journs: ::nods:: =/\= Understood. Journs out. =/\= ::turns to the others:: How’s it coming? We really need to hurry before he bleeds out. Tralan / McKnight / R’Val: Response Bjørge (if present): Response --- Lieutenant Ishkabela Journs, XnP/GS Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Atlantis, NCC-74682 I238110RH0
  25. 1 point
    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))
  26. 1 point
    ((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
  27. 1 point
    Well, I´m still a cadet, and probably I have no say on those matters... but for the sake of discussion, I would like to use some mixed approach. Something fun that could include most players. Start diplomatic negotiations, while a group went undercover and another team went rogue for thinking nobody is effectively doing something to rescue the dear captain. Just my noob opinion. 🙏
  28. 1 point
    R'Ariel waved at the transport pilot, as she stepped out into one of Starbase 118's many shuttle bays. The trip from Starfleet Academy had been uneventful, but enjoyable. The transport had brought more than a Cadet passenger fresh from the Academy who was (mostly) eager for her Cadet Cruise, but it had also included a young pilot, unsure of himself in his new marriage, and ended with a more confident, self-assured, slightly-counseled Pilot, who had enjoyed his unofficial session with R'Ariel during the trip. "I know you will do great, look at all you have accomplished so far", R'Ariel remarked. The pilot nodded, waved, and departed with the shuttle and a smile. Truth be told, she was having some confidence doubts herself. Counseling the newly married shuttle pilot had helped boost her own confidence (not that she had any experience being married, or likely ever would). She had enjoyed the Academy, they were more accepting of her hybrid nature, than most prior-to-Academy experiences, and now the Academy was behind her. R'Ariel looked at the Padd containing her orders, and realized how much time she actually had before reporting in. With a few basic navigational inquiries of the station computer, she found her feet and made a mild-mannered entrance into one of the social establishments. Taking a seat near a window, she deliberated on her choice of drink. Would she go with one of her old favorites, or on such an occasion as this, try something new? What can I get you Cadet? inquired a friendly, but tired waiter. R'Ariel smiled at the waiter, seeing her own reflection in the window behind him, a reflection of herself disappointed in herself for not having decided just yet. "Maybe you should get some milk, just be careful not to get it all over all that hair you have, you don't want to be a mess for your Cadet Cruise." the Deltan side of her reflection seemed to say, silently chiding at her half-Caitian heritage. She closed her eyes, and shook her head, before opening them again, intent on replying to the waiter. Her reflection had changed in the window this time. "You wish getting milk on your fur was a problem, you don't even have a single wisp of hair or fur on your entire face" her Caitian heritage silently rebuffed. R'Ariel looked up at the waiter, with an apologetic look. She half wanted to ask the waiter if he agreed she was an ugly Deltan for having all that hair, or an ugly Caitian for having no hair on her face, or if perhaps, as she endeavored so arduously -if her meticulous attention to style, makeup, and the like, sufficiently covered her unappealing features... "You know what they say about the psychiatric field... it starts with the person wearing your own shoes." R'Ariel quipped with a well rehearsed chuckle. A confused waiter replied, "Which drink was that?" -Cadet R'Ariel Caitian/Deltan Hybrid Academy Counseling Major
  29. 1 point
    "The current time is 2118 hours." intoned the robotic voice, echoing through the shuttle. "This shuttle will arrive at Starbase 118 at precisely 2120 hours, Stardate 239607.15." Hathur gazed out the window. They were just entering orbit of the station, to prepare for docking: he could see the flashing red lights on the landing bay, inviting them down to finally land, inviting him to begin the adventure ahead. He still couldn't believe that he had made it into Starfleet Academy, let alone graduated. Too many times, he questioned what he was even doing, whether his parents were right about the horrible things they had said about the Federation during his training. Even many of his teachers questioned his motivations. But, this was right. This had to be right. Looking back at the window, he took in the Starbase itself. It was an almost otherworldly structure, seeming to rise out of the infinite, inky void that was space, like some kind of heavenly creation. "It's so beautiful." he muttered to himself, forgetting that he was even in a shuttlecraft. "Hm." he heard somebody say, next to him. Right, he wasn't in space yet. "Oh, I'm sorry." he said, looking over to the person -- a Vulcan, Strol, he believed his name was, one of his classmates in Advanced Applications of Logic -- next to him. "An apology was unnecessary. I was simply curious as to what, precisely, you find to be 'beautiful' in a standard Federation starbase." Strol spoke, one eyebrow perpetually raised. "Well.. I suppose it's not so much the structure, but what it holds. From here begins the journey, for all of us in this shuttlecraft. I mean, who knows what's next for all of us?" The Vulcan nodded. "Ah, I believe I understand. It is not the structure itself, but the emotional value and promise of it that you find beautiful. Highly peculiar, but, understandable for an emotional people such as yours." But Hathur wasn't paying attention. Docking procedures were beginning, as the ship gently lowered itself into the port. One of the departing words with Professor Ledirs, his xeno-history teacher who was also assigned to Starbase 118 when he graduated, was to not look out the window of the shuttle during docking as it was known to perform some rather.. nauseating moves to align itself properly. Apparently, he had learned the hard way. But, despite the sage advice, Hathur found himself unable to look away. Besides, growing up terraforming, he was used to sharp changes in perspective. It was all over far too soon. "Docking procedures have been successfully completed. Please wait for the shuttle to come to a complete stop." announced the computer, that same familiar, warm voice (based off of the legendary Starfleet doctor Admiral Chapel, as recognition of her achievements in biotechnology) that had accompanied him since the beginning. A far cry from the harsh, guttural voice of a Cardassian computer. "The shuttle has come to a complete stop. Please proceed to Deck 14 for assignment of quarters. Welcome to Starbase 118." With this, the door at the side of the shuttle wooshed open. Standing up, he heard Strol begin to speak. "Well, Mr. Ev, may our.." There went that eyebrow, again. "journey.. be a fruitful one." Not allowing time for a response, he quickly disembarked, Hathur closely following him. He was eager to get on the ground as soon as possible in this new area, and he felt that following behind the rather socially uncaring Vulcan was the perfect opportunity to do so quickly. Stepping out into the cavernous docking bay, he took in a busy scene. Officers of all kinds ran around, Operations people examining ships and punching PADDS, engineering staff looking into engines and carrying tools, and a host of other nervous cadets seemingly shuffling around. Hathur approached these, believing they could hold some kind of answer about where to go. "Hey, do you guys know where the turbolift is? I need to find where they're assigning quarters." "That's what we're all trying to figure out!" roared one of the cadets, a Klingon, at the front of the group. "Please calm yourself, Cadet Jowlw'. We do not want to draw undue attention to ourselves." spoke Strol, walking up next to the group. "I do not CARE about attention, I must find my quarters!" Hathur stepped back, suspecting that this would go nowhere fast with how busy it was on the deck. Taking a look around the room, he saw a group of a few other cadets, entering what seemed to be a chamber of some sort. Ah, yes, a turbolift chamber! "Hey guys, it's over here!" he yelled, but it appeared that Strol and the Klingon were having a slight dispute. They didn't even take notice. And so he went ahead and headed to the room, and, just as suspected, it was a turbolift, now empty. "Deck.." Suddenly, horror now creeping into his mind, he forgot what deck the computer had told him to go to. Four.. deck four, that was it! "Deck four." he spoke confidently. The computer, beeping obediently, ferried him up to Deck 4. The turbolift opened to a grand promenade, stores dotting every corner of the area. Hathur took a moment, stepping out, to just observe everything. There was a flurry of activity occurring, and with it, a general hum of conversation, some in Federation Standard, some in Klingon, some in Vulcan, some in languages he could not even parse. There were stores all around, one run by fascinating aliens selling memorabilia from the Alpha Quadrant, one a Starfleet-sponsored store carrying tiny ship replicas, one a Ferengi bazaar -- you name it, it was there. Even at Starfleet Academy, there was not such incredible diversity. And, after he fended off a Klingon chef trying to convince him to come to his restaurant to hear his "beautiful" opera, he realized that it was all open to him to explore. Although this was clearly not where quarters were assigned, Hathur yet again found himself unable to care. This was it, this was the essence of the Federation. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, as one of his old Vulcan teachers once said. And he was part of it now.
  30. 1 point
    Sliding a duffel bag from his shoulder, allowing it to drop to the floor at his feet a young man stands looking around the hallway outside the docking port. A hand idly brushing away a lock of brown hair from his eyes he tilts his head and lets out a barely noticeable sigh: "Now where to go next. Sir, a moment, I need to report to...". The officer he tried to catch the attention of keeps walking down the corridor. Once more he tries: "Excuse me, I'm Sakinth. Cadet Sakinth... I need to report for cadet training, but I lack the knowledge of the layout of this particular starbase design." The officer he asked looks at the young Vulcan man, noticing an almost imperceptible hint of... embarrassment? "You'll need to go down there, take the turbolift, go to..." the officer patiently explains where the new cadet should go. As the cadet jogs off to the turbolift the officer waits a second before calling out: "Cadet, your bag.. " and then turning around with a grin and walking on himself. As Sakinth returns for his bag he looks after the officer, picks up the bag and starts to follow the directions again. Half an hour later, after he has reported and stowed his gear in his assigned quarters, Sakinth studies a map of the station and makes his way to the promenade. (( Not my best work.... my grandfather in law will be passing away and I must admit my mind is not fully on it. I also requested a delay in training because of that... ))
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