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Crazy feels in this for an officer trying to deal with the fallout from a secondment to the KDF. Amazing writing as always from @Sera zh' Aella and @Quinn Reynolds. --- ((Spa - Cochtois Lagoon)) :: Wearing a dark blue shirt and smart black pants, Sera strode purposely through the spa lobby. The attire wasn't weather appropriate, the heat and sunshine would normally have made her uncomfortable in such a dark outfit but right now she wasn't concerned with comfort. She wasn't quite marching like a cadet on the parade ground, but if anyone had paid attention to her they would have seen many similar features. The stern-faced determination and the measured posture with her shoulders back and head held high. Only now she was using the drilled movements as façade to hide her inner emotional turmoil, a crutch to lean on as she tried to perform an act which her heart rebelled against but that her brain knew was absolutely necessary. :: :: Sera's career hadn't exactly been the stuff of legends but she did have a few achievements that she was incredibly proud of. Leading an away team on the Romulan Republic colony of Sikuna and the resulting action on the bridge of the IRW D'delnor was probably her finest achievement. But there were other less dramatic things which she held close to her heart, most importantly she still considered it an honoured to wear the uniform each day. It was an honour she doubted that she deserved, so perhaps it was fitting that she was having this meeting in civilian wear. Maybe the absence of her uniform would make the unpalatable task a little easier.:: :: When Sera approached the Admiral's table she felt a lump in her throat and the urge to turn and run. For a moment she paused in her tracks and considered indulging the thought, but only for the briefest of moments. squashing those feelings deep down inside her, she continued up to the table with renewed determination. When the flag officer noticed her, Sera came to attention despite officially being on shore leave and civilian clothing. Formality would be the only way to get through this.:: zh'Aella: Admiral Reynolds, Sir. Reynolds: Hello Lieutenant. Would you like to take a seat? ::Sera remained standing but took the offer as permission to relax her stance. In contrast to her sombre clothing, the Admiral was wearing a light, draped shirt and capri pants, sandals on her feet. Wherever her combadge was, it had been stowed safely out of sight.:: zh'Aella: Thank you for agreeing to see me, Sir. I won't take up much of your time. Reynolds: It's fine. ::She offered a quick smile.:: What can I do for you? :: From her pants pocket Sera withdrew a PADD and her combadge. She gazed at the iconic symbol for several seconds before putting it and the padd down on the table. She found herself wringing her hands again and placed them both behind her back.:: zh'Aella: Admiral Reynolds, I'm officially offering my resignation. :: It wasn't too often that someone caught the Admiral off-guard, but Sera had achieved it. Her eyebrows shot up, lips parting wordlessly before she caught herself and sat up in her chair.:: Reynolds: I beg your pardon? ::The look on the admiral's face made it harder and Sera felt herself waver slightly.:: zh'Aella: Yes sir, the uniform is too important to me to be disgraced my actions or worse, my potential actions. Reynolds: You're going to have to explain. ::Sera shuffled uneasily, had the Admiral not heard about the incident in the ‘Cargo’ hold? Hadn't the civilian mental health nurse advised her of his preliminary diagnosis?:: zh'Aella: Sir, there probably a report waiting in your queue. I started having… relieving memories when we were receiving our medical assessments on the Yarahla. ::Her hands were back in front of her, trembling at the memory.:: I was so confused that I threw an Orion Security officer to the ground under the belief that I was still serving with the Klingons. Reynolds: Yes, I saw it happen. ::She paused.:: What triggered it? :: Sera’s antennae shuddered in embarrassment at the thought of her Commanding Officer watching her break with reality but she forced herself to continue, an explanation was owed for the outburst.:: zh'Aella: The Gre'Thor found a detention area on an Orion pirate base. It was ugly… I tried to kill the pirate leader and was restrained by two enlisted crewmembers. ::She knew that the admission would be the end of her career, but that was precisely why she'd sought out this meeting. She wasn’t going to stain the end of her career further by lying to someone she respected. But to Sera’s surprise, the Admiral kept her response guarded.:: Reynolds: I see. ::With that unexpected response, Sera felt compelled to continue as she stood under the gaze of her CO.:: zh'Aella: I've been diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I don't want another incident to tarnish the Gorkon and I don't want my friends to get hurt because of my failure. Reynolds: Nothing's tarnished, Lieutenant. You've been hurt. It's a wound, not a failing. ::Was the Admiral serious about that? Sera didn't think the flag officer would sugarcoat anything to spare a junior officer's feelings but her words were difficult to accept. By any means of measurement, Sera considered her actions contemptible.:: zh'Aella: Maybe, Sir. But wouldn't the Gorkon be better off with someone else as the Chief of Security? Someone you could trust? ::The warm breeze picked up for a few moments, and it carried with it the scent of barbeque and sweet fruits. Reynolds absently smoothed down the strands of hair that it caught, and in one smooth movement it became a gesture toward the other chair at her table.:: Reynolds: Are you sure you won't sit down? ::She offered the Andorian a small smile.:: If nothing else, you're doing to give me a crick in my neck. ::Sera relented and sat in the chair opposite her commanding officer. Once seated, Quinn gestured for her to continue.:: zh'Aella: I'm afraid that I'll have another episode and do something which cant be undone with an apology. Reynolds: You've been diagnosed, Sera. Have you started any treatment yet? Counselling, medications..? ::Her face heated at the questions and her antennae shuddered as she realised that she wouldn't be able to give a satisfactory answer.:: zh'Aella: I have a treatment plan which includes medication and therapy. The medication I got on the Yarahla helped alittle. But… :: She stuttered for a moment.:: But, I haven't started therapy yet. Reynolds: ::Gently,:: Are you planning to? :: Pride clashed with the knowledge that she needed to seek help, the conflicting feelings causing her head to spin.:: zh'Aella: I was in the process of booking a session, but I'm not sure how talking about my feelings will help. Resigning seemed like the better option. ::Reynolds didn't answer immediately, and Sera's antennae dropped flat to her head.:: Maybe I choose the easier way out. ::Marching up an Admiral and offering her resignation sure didn't feel easy at the time. But perhaps it was easier than discussing, and attempting to manage, her mental state with people she had to see daily.:: Reynolds: There's nothing easy about any of it. ::She paused, considering her response.:: Take it from someone who's stridently private, and spent half her career fleeing in the opposite direction whenever she saw the ship's counsellor... it helps. It's not just talking. It's learning about yourself, understanding yourself and what you've been through. It's about figuring out the techniques that will help you. :: Sera let out a deep breath and placed her trembling hands on the table. She cupped them in an effort to keep them from trembling, and immediately her right heel began bouncing off the floor causing her leg to shake. It was almost enough to send her into a nervous giggling fit, but only almost.:: zh'Aella: I looked at the symptoms of this... of my, disorder when I got back to my quarters. I haven't experienced many of them yet, but I might in the future. Relieving the flashbacks was bad enough but other symptoms might strike when I'm not expecting them. I don't want to resign, but I honestly don't know if I can do my job while dealing with this. Reynolds: We have a while before the conference ends and we're back on duty. Take that time to think about it. You have to do what's best for you, and if that really *is* resigning your commission, then that's what it is. ::She paused, woodland eyes intent on Sera.:: But give yourself a little time, and take a little help. If the counsellor clears you for duty, that's good enough for me. Talk with her and start your healing, before making any final decisions. :: She sat there with her leg vibrating under the table and hands clenched together so fiercely that Sera's mind began to have thoughts of hanging onto a ladder as she was flipped her head over heels. Fortunately the memories were not so vivid that she forgot where she was, but the increased level of anxiety was undeniable. It felt like people at the other tables were watching her, judging her. Sera closed her eyes, recognising the negative feeling and began breathing slowly and deeply. After a minute she felt slightly calmer.:: zh'Aella: Yes sir. I'll start working on it, on healing and get back to you. :: She collected the PADD and combadge from the table.:: I'll hang on to those for a little while longer. I'm sorry for laying this on you, Admiral. Reynolds: I'm glad that you did. ::She offered a small, kind smile.:: You're not alone in this, Sera. zh'Aella: Thank you sir. Reynolds: Alright. ::She paused, about to say something else, and then changed her mind.:: Try and enjoy your shore leave, in the meantime. And if you *do* need anything, just ask. End -- Lieutenant Sera zh'Aella Chief of Security and Tactical USS Gorkon V239107TZ0 & Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0

Hello everyone, Just thought I would come say hello. I’ve played various RPGs on and off for quite a while. I got started in what was essentially a chat room where you posted, hit refresh, and saw everything that was posted between then and the last time you hit refresh. Got my start there playing World of Darkness and other more freeform games, before I kind of drifted off to do life-related stuff and found it was gone. I played on a bunch of MUSHes and MUXes, including a Trek game I really enjoyed but I always found that the Trek games in those mediums were either short-lived or the community was difficult to connect with. Recently had the notion to try Trek games again, and thought I’d give Play by E-Mail a go. I’ve got no experience with this method of play and while I’m in training at the moment I’m still not entirely sure I’m doing it right. Hopefully I’ll get the hang of it sooner rather than later. I joined because looking through the wiki and the forums and such, I realised this is the sort of community I always wished existed when I was playing in the other places I frequented for years but was never able to actually find because I didn’t get the format and was unwilling to try. Better late than never, though. It’s nice to see such an active and welcoming community, so I wanted to end by saying thanks for giving me a shot!

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 German Galven playing a Denobulan Male Chief Science officer assigned to the USS Montreal. SHIN: Hello Lieutenant, thank you for taking the time out of your day for this interview. To start, why don’t you tell us a little about yourself and your character? GALVEN: The pleasure is all mine! Thank you for having me. My name is Dane and I write for Lieutenant German Galven. I was born in the midwest of the United States and was raised in a military family which made me learn to be outgoing and larger than life to make friends quicker since we had to move around so much. I’ve simmered down since my childhood, but I bring out that aspect in German. He’s a quirky Denobulan that is inquisitive and always curious about what’s in front of him. How did you discover SB118 and how long have you been with the community now? I found out about SB118 from a friend named Zech (Groznin Smith) and I’ve been with the community for almost six months now. I still have that enthusiasm I had when I first joined! Every day I learn something new and explore the possibilities that the game has so far. You have done very well since joining and you were recently promoted to full Lieutenant and named the Chief of Science on the USS Montreal. How you do feel? There’s a feeling of euphoric bliss and then there’s something after that. I feel extremely humbled that people who have been with 118 for years are seeing something in me that they are giving me these opportunities. Ever since I boarded the USS Veritas and then shortly after transferred to the USS Montreal, I’ve been eyeing the spot for the head of the Science Department. Which all the more gave me the confidence and drive to get to that goal. I feel like I can, with the help and enthusiasm from other science officers, achieve much more within our field. Is there any advice you would offer for our fellow Ensign and Lieutenant JG officers, on working towards their promotion’s? My advice to everyone out there that are junior officers is to work hard and have fun. Just because someone is a lower rank doesn’t mean they are limited in what they can achieve here. There are so many opportunities and grasp onto that willpower for oneself. This has helped me a lot in real life when it comes to my thinking and cognitive skills. What you do here can positively affect yourself out in the real world. Take the chance! Now, I understand you are involved in many OOC activities. Can you give us a brief rundown of the work you do in our community and why you feel it is important? I’m on the Community News Team, Federation News Service, Training Team, as well as a SIMSCON joint post I started with other science officers within the fleet and hoping to join the Image Collective. I feel it is just as important to be involved with OOC activities just as much with IC activities. Especially with the Training Team. We’re the first players IC that people see when they join our community. First impressions last and there’s a lot of responsibility there. I love the stories people make for the FNS. Whether it be a sport, culture, or a science article. It further expands the creativity there is for the world we create around ourselves. Then with the Image Collective, we get to create that world for people to see! I love doing OOC interviews such as this one because it’s fun to see a little bit of the people behind the character. I created SIMSCON more so to build even more with the science community, but it’s also taught me to write better in my normal sims. Plus seeing everyone else’s unique writing styles is always fun to read. And remember to lurk the forums. There’s always something special to find there as well. Especially since not everyone is on Discord. With so much accomplished here so far where do you see yourself going in the future? Are you thinking of reaching for a position in command or joining any other OOC teams? Oh, there are so many possible answers to that question. First off, I would like to see the Podcast Team come back. I think I joined a little bit after it stopped and I like listening to them on YouTube.There’s a song out there that I absolutely love called “Banned From Menthar” and I would like to parody something. I think there needs to be at least a few podcasts with Dr. German D. Galven’s ramblings about anything temporal related or doing some wacky experiment. I would love to be a command position one day! Captain Dr. Galven has a nice ring to it and there are so many ships here that it’d be great to take part in any of them. Mr. Galven has been eyeing the Athena for a while, but all the ships look just as amazing. As much as I love seeing everyone’s participation in a story and how it evolves just from a mission proposal, it’d be really amazing to see that develop on a ship I may command one day. Thank you again for your time, Lieutenant Galven! You can read more about Lieutenant Galven on the wiki. The post Lower Decks Interview: Lieutenant German Galven, USS Montreal appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

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!

Seeing a certain person @Geoffrey Teller is expanding his Brew Continuum Empire, it's only fair to show him that some people namely @Jo Marshall are doing all they can to promote the BC merchandise. (( Research Station - Giáng Sinh )) “My Dearest Parents. I put words to this communication on the hope your good selves shall receive it before you attend Giáng Sinh. First, the Admiral doesn’t like guests. Secondly, You’ll be quartered either on the Gorkon or down on the surface; it’s entirely up to you. Your original request for organic avocados has proved difficult. Smashed avocado on toast from the replicator does not constitute a war crime allegation. The coffee is plentiful and there’s a coffeehouse on the ship — Erin grows the plants. There’s snow down here and no, there’s nothing I can do about it unfortunately it’s just part of the weather system. Please don’t mention the Hawaiian shirt and leather jacket incident. Looking forward to seeing you. Take your time getting here. Much love.” Jo slumped back in the chair and wiped her hands over her face, wondering if she could get away with the slightest, smallest note going. “Please don’t come.” But they were already winging their way to the planet, both excited to see the terra forming activities taking place, spend Christmas somewhere that looked and felt like a Christmas of their homeworld back in their childhood years, and, time permitting, see their daughter. The blonde slipped her fingers through the handle of the travel coffee mug (Brew Continuum, Fastest Coffee in the Fleet!) and stirred it around with the power of centrifugal motion. She looked up out of the small window afforded by the Operations building, reminded of the administration centre back on Starfleet Academy campus, and the day she’d followed the then Captain out into the grounds after their return from Over There. It hadn’t been snowing. Quite the contrary, the sun had shone heavily in a blue sky and flowers bloomed beneath. Her parents hadn’t made it back for that, either, and Jo had disappeared from the Japanese Tea Gardens on her bike with one Erin Reynolds; the two taking off for the high hills of the San Mateo region. Erin drove, Jo had held on for dear life as the hybrid tested just how fast the engine could go up the winding roads beside the Pacific Ocean, illuminated by the blaze of sunset light streaming down from the horizon. Little did she know then that Erin would come to occupy her thoughts for the next two years. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise the Bajoran enthusiasts had refused the invitation. Lost in her thoughts, as she was, Jo lifted the coffee to her lips and took a quick sip, momentarily forgetting how hot the Brew Continuum branded travel mug (100% leak-proof vacuum, insulated for perfect heat retention, and a strip of silicone for easy carrying, available at all BC franchises) kept eighteen ounces of coffee perfectly sealed. A quick burn to her bottom lip and a reactive wince saw the mug fall from her grasp and roll onto the floor. She considered sending a message to Bear, entreating him to come back quicker from wherever he’d ended up with the former pirate for the backup, for someone to throw in front of her two life-givers like a ritual sacrifice or cannon fodder. What she needed was a swift distraction. Rescuing the mug from the group, and noting that it was completely and utterly leakproof (available from all good Brew Continuum franchises), Jo strolled outside. Snow lazily drifted down from the sky; large snowflakes covering the ground and surrounding decking. Containers hauled from the support ships for the colonists covered in the white powder, dry and beautiful, untouched in the thick morning air. Everything felt a little serene as Jo looked around, taking in the day's smell. Erin, with her wonderfully scientific brain, had informed her that snow didn’t have a scent, and instead what she could smell did not differ from a cold, dry day on the planet, or impurities in the frozen water, like dirt and salt from the water source. She’d also informed her of the stimulation to the trigeminal nerve in her face caused by the cold air they breathed, which stirred an all around sensory experience of snow. Those small things that Erin thought were perfectly mundane pieces of information delivered in such a simple manner were one of the many reasons Jo loved her. Her botanist could make the smallest things seem wonderfully magical. Across the way, Jo spotted Ghant Xerix, their pilot extraordinaire making his way across the town square, on his way from or to somewhere or other. The Betazoid had made some interesting relationships in his brief time on board the Gorkon — ‘Kos appearing in their quarters heartbroken, Erin because of that, Caedan as sad and dejected as if someone had stolen his happy, Valesha because of that, and those were only the ones she knew about. However, Jo liked the guy. He was a good pilot and operations officer, dedicated himself to his work when he wasn’t breaking hearts and taking names, and it felt like the young fella had been with them from the start. With that in mind, Jo placed the mug down on top of the container and watched for a second as the insulated one-hundred percent leak proof travel mug didn’t melt the snow at all. She scooped up a handful of snow in her hands, cutting a clear edge in the beautifully unblemished snow covering, and padded it up into a ball. Then, with the precision of her days playing endless games of springball, she threw it dead centre at her target. Xerix: Response Reactively, Jo ducked down behind the container crate before he could see her, her back pressed up against it as though enemy fire was about to come shooting toward her. She scooped up another handful of snow and looked over the top of the crate. Poking up over the top, she sent another ball of snow in an overarm angle toward the pilot and retreated to cover. Xerix: Response Another handful of powder scooped up, Jo couldn’t help laughing this time and glanced around the side of the crate. Marshall: Evasive maneuvers, Mister Xerix! Take up a defensive position! Xerix: Response -- Lt. Commander Jo Marshall First Officer USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 G239304JM0

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

Nothing quite like reading about the daily grind of an Operations Officer. Great work @Esa_Darkkdust ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Atlantis)) ((Final Day of Shore Leave)) Even as the excitement, heartbreak, arguments and joys of Shore Leave began to draw to a close, there was still a reasonable level of ‘holiday buzz’ around the crew, even as they prepared to depart for their impending assignment. Nobody was really any the wiser about what Starfleet had in store for the intrepid crew of Atlantis, except maybe the Intelligence folks, who had probably intercepted every transmission between Starfleet and the Captain by now, despite it being Esa’s job to route incoming signals around the ship. After her conversation with Ishka a few days ago, and no doubt her subsequent conversation with Alex, Esa had found herself posted to the Alpha shift every day for the next month. It was pleasant to not have to constantly swap between the three. Keeping to a routine and forcing her body clock into a normal pattern would certainly do her mental health a world of good. 0700 to 1500 every day, without fail. Esa took pride in the fact that she had been put on the Alpha shift. It made her feel that little bit closer to being chief, without actually holding the title. It also served to keep the cacophony of personalities in her head in check, as the day shift was notoriously busy with so many departments requesting operational support from Esa and the team. She had, much to her dismay, started her day by receiving a request for a janitorial team to make their way to the bathrooms on Deck Ten. The communication had gone something along the lines of a foul stench emanating from one of the pair toward the fore of the ship, just behind the torpedo launch bay. Naturally, this meant a whole world of problems for Esa, who had to report the issue to Engineering, as there was likely going to be fallout in the waste processing and water treatment areas as well. It simply wouldn’t do to have a sewage explosion so close to their departure date. Fortunately, only a mere half-hour later, the janitorial staff had reported that it was simply a blocked lavatory, and that the issue would be fixed as soon as the air purifiers had a chance to work their magic. This would, however, prove to be the most interesting thing that would happen for the next few hours. With many of the ship’s departments working to finalise their prep work before departure, the number of physically actionable requests dwindled steadily toward the middle of the morning, with the majority of requests around this time relating to power management, and system upgrades. The main computer core had to be taken offline for a short while (much to the annoyance of Engineering, as their usually quite responsive secondary engineering core had become bombarded with requests), as Esa had received yet another new LCARS revision from Starfleet. This one was only minor in terms of feature updates, with the bulk of updated material pertaining to bug fixes and UI improvements. Esa was unsure how people on later shifts would react when the layout of their console had changed while they had been sleeping, but it was nothing the seasoned computer engineer couldn’t handle, and the update went by smoothly and quickly. Not only this, but holodeck time requests were still coming in to be allocated amongst the crew, with much of Holodeck 1’s timetable for the day booked up wall to wall; The Marines were using their holodeck down on deck 13 for training scenarios today, so Esa had been unable to assign any overspill from the leisure use decks on deck 6 to it. While all this was happening, Stellar Cartography were fighting it out with Astrometrics over use of the sensor suites, as both were trying to update their star charts and navigational data at the same time; and Evie was asking for yet more power to be routed to Science Lab 01, no doubt to facilitate the development of her AI into the Electronic and Cyberwarfare suites. The proposals that she had looked at seemed to be solid, which wasn’t a surprise, seeing as the woman held four degrees in the subject, but she had advised her to hold off any further integration with the ship until she had had a chance to review the specs with the Captain. Alas, he had been far too busy meeting the other heads of departments to deal with her at the time, so the request had gone unanswered. Esa didn’t mind, but Evie had given her a substantial dressing down for her incompetency and lack of effort. Evie’s words had been quite harsh, but her bark was far worse than her bite, and the threat of having an official complaint written up about Esa had gone unactioned. A few times the mundane routine interactions with the ship had been interrupted by new crewmembers transferring aboard, having finished their meetings with the Captain and XO, now coming straight to Esa for their new quarters assignments. Having never been an enlisted, Esa sometimes wondered what it was like meeting a new roommate for the first time. This was quickly followed by a request to have someone from Logistics help move their belongings from the cargo area on deck 8 up to their new homes. A few departing officers and non-coms were also making several requests of the logistics team, who were obviously in high demand today. Around the middle of the day, mere minutes before Esa had planned to take a quick break to grab some lunch, the quartermaster from the armoury on deck 4 had reported a series of missing explosive charges from one of their storage lockers, and was demanding an explanation. Esa had to explain to them a number of times that they had been taken by the marines for the boarding drill, and were due to be returned at some point later today. Evidently, with the shakeup in the Tactical/Security departments, a few memos had missed their intended recipients. She was still kicking herself for not managing the communications better surrounding the drill, but the thing had happened so quickly that she had little time to inform the right people of the prep work. No doubt Esa would be apologising to Maddi for that one when she got home later tonight. Finally, a good ten minutes of explaining later, Esa managed to flag down a passing colleague to man her post while she grabbed a sandwich. That was the one downside to working the Ops station; The need for it to be constantly manned meant there was very little in the way of flexibility when one needed to take a comfort break. After a quick 30 minute lunch break, Esa was back on the bridge, this time dealing with the request from engineering to divert power away from the main navigational deflector so that they could perform a diagnostic and alignment pass. Naturally, this took priority over the science labs use time, so she had assigned them the secondary deflector while the engineering crews worked. She was met with a less than favourable response to this, as one of the labs had been using it to project a tightly focussed energy beam onto some nearby graviton particles as part of an experiment they were undertaking. Naturally, the need to get the ship ready for departure took priority, and Esa apologised for spoiling their results. She always took the blame for scheduling errors, though most of the time it wasn’t her fault. People liked to have someone to complain to, or about, and as she was the one making the decisions it made sense for it to be her. The remaining two hours of her shift were spent overseeing the delivery of a new spare warp core into the storage tube that ran between decks 10 and 15. The freighter captain had offered no explanation as to why they were receiving a new core, only that a request had come in and his job was to deliver it, not ask questions. Esa had little choice but to agree, instead wondering why the Captain, or Engineering, for that matter, would have put a request in for such a thing. What did their assignment hold in store for them that necessitated such a piece of equipment? Once the delivery and install had been finalised, Esa handed over to Fiorr, who was on the Beta shift for the next few days, and bid him farewell. While on duty, she had managed to slot some R&R time in on Holodeck Two for herself, and planned to spend the rest of the afternoon giving Ishka’s spa recommendations a whirl, before dinner with Maddi. Travelling via her quarters to get dressed, she flopped down on the bed for a moment to deflate, letting her arm hang down to pet Lyra, who was a welcome presence in what had been a rather busy, stressful day. Her small face looked up at Esa, her dark eyes regarding the Trill. She offered a small bark to draw Esa’s attention whose response was to invite her up for a cuddle. Esa: You have no idea what a day I’ve had today. You know, I envy you sometimes, Lyra. Not a care in the world… Lyra let out a small woof in response, seemingly in agreement. Esa laughed slightly and replaced Lyra on the floor so that she could change. Lieutenant Esa Kiax Comm/Ops Officer USS Atlantis – NCC 74682 Community History Team Member A239511ED0

Loved this little insight into one of the Symbiote's former lives from our newly-joined Trill officer. --- ((Lilla Kiax, Mount Voslaarum, Ayai'leh-hirh Range)) ((Stardate 230006.25)) Up with the Lark, her eyes barely open. She strolled through the dark, the lamp as her guide. The wind brought a chill as she buttoned the fleece up to her neck. She paused, and enjoyed the dawn’s misty light. The temperature would warm throughout the day, but out here in the Ayai'leh-hirh Range, the night had a chill that could rival most arctic circles. Inside her pocket lay a small PADD, which she reached for with practiced ease. A few button taps later, and she spoke up. Lilla: Lilla Kiax, expedition log. Stardate 230006.25. Today marks the start of the hardest part of the climb… Weather looks favourable, but we won't be going anywhere until this mist lifts… The rising sun peaked out from one of the neighbouring mountains, blinding her momentarily. Lilla: The sunrises here are always spectacular. It’s a shame Ojass isn’t here to witness them. Illo would probably end up writing a suite of Bell music to describe it. Aadin would probably be unmoved. ::She laughed quietly to herself.:: He always was a bit of an odd boy… Her recording was interrupted by the sound of someone shuffling around in the tent behind her. A few moments later, a rather bedraggled looking blonde Denobulan poked her head out from the entrance. Indaura: Do you always have to talk so loud? It’s the middle of the night. Lilla: I know. Look at how bright the moon is though! ::She stated, sarcastically, pointing at the sun.:: It’s almost like it’s morning! Indaura looked unimpressed and crawled back into the tent, grumbling away to herself. Lilla turned back to her log and continued recording as she prepped the equipment for today’s leg of the climb, while detailing the progress they had made yesterday. Eventually, a good half hour later, Indaura re-emerged and the pair ate some breakfast before breaking down their camp and loading it into the packs for transport. ((Timeskip)) The pair had climbed all morning, for a good six hours before stopping for a breather while waiting out the afternoon heat. The going was monotonous, with both of them effectively scaling the same section of rock three times before proceeding. Once up, to clamp a new SLCD into a crack, attach to it, then back down to detach and remove the last, then back up to place the next. Eventually they had reached an outcrop where they could set up their portable shade sail, and the pair stopped for a bite to eat. Lilla grabbed a canteen of water and the Trangia from her pack, before sitting down next to Indaura. Lilla: Here. Drink up. We’ve still got a ways to go before we get to the campsite for tonight. Indaura took the canteen and gleefully sucked down the water as Lilla sifted through the remaining ration packs. Indaura: What’s on the menu today? Lilla: Steak with sautéed potatoes in a peppercorn sauce, or pan fried haddock with string beans and a bechamel sauce. Indaura: Do we have anything not from Earth? ::She grumbled.:: Lilla scanned the remaining packets in her pack, only to find that Earth was the only planet left in their supply. Lilla: Sadly not. Earth’s finest cuisine is all we have left. Reluctantly, they picked their meals and ate them, though they weren’t particularly enjoyable. The pair sat and looked out over the range, admiring the beauty that lay before them. Indaura took to taking some holoimages, while Lilla continued reading the book that she had taken with her. Before long, it had begun to cool down slightly, and they had resumed on their way two hours before the sun was due to start setting behind the neighbouring peaks. It wasn’t long before they had made considerable headway, and Lilla was half way between her existing cam and the place she wanted to lock her next. The rockface had become slightly slick, what with the drop in temperature, but it wasn’t enough to deter her enthusiasm. Indaura had been ahead this time, leading the way for Lilla to follow. She had made it to the campsite plateau first, and was lying on her chest with her head sticking over the edge. Indaura: Lilla! Get up here, you slacker! Some of us want to get some sleep before the morning! Lilla: ::Surveying the rock face:: Just a minute, Indaura. We have some structural concerns… The extreme changes in temperature, evening dew freezing in the night and then melting during the day, had lead to some rather unstable sections of the rock face. Lilla carefully locked in her next cam and attached to it, before dropping back down to remove the last. Indaura: Would you just get up here?! Lilla tested the rope by tugging on it a little, making sure she was confident that the crack she had pried the cam into was tight enough. Satisfied, she unlatched the lower one and clipped it back onto her harness, before ascending again. The top was almost in sight, and she was excited to get some shuteye before their final day tomorrow. In her excitement, she had neglected to check the area ahead of her thoroughly enough, and though Indaura had passed over it minutes before, that was enough to spell disaster. The small crack she placed her hand in to pull herself higher suddenly crumbled and gave way, causing Lilla to lose cohesion with the wall, and fall suddenly, passing the lower cam to which she was still attached. Fortunately, the SLCD arrested her momentum, and she came to a sudden halt. In that same moment, the forces exerted on the cam were enough to cause it to snap, resuming Lilla’s fall to her death, the last thing she saw before everything went black was a last glimpse of Indaura’s despairing face. ((Esa and Maddi’s Quarters, Deck 3, USS Atlantis)) ((Day Five of Shore Leave, Early Morning)) The audible memory of the sickening crunching and snapping of bones rang in Esa’s ears as she woke with a blood chilling scream and sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat. Reliving your own death really was the stuff of nightmares. Lieutenant Esa Kiax Comm/Ops Officer USS Atlantis – NCC 74682 Community History Team Member A239511ED0

This recent joint post by @Irina Pavlova and @Randal Shayne just absolutely blew me away. I am not afraid to admit that it made me a little misty eyed as I read it. Because NOT ONLY is it a beautifully written piece of scene work by two immensely talented people (people I just so happen to serve with #humblebrag). But it speaks to the amazing dynamics we can find between our characters, as well as just how rich the personal lore/canon people have built here over the years is. Sims like this are precisely why I wanted to join up and I thank y'all so much for allowing me to do so. And thank you for providing me amazing things like this to read. Enjoy. Pavlova: I pulled her marksmanship scores from the academy and they are better than average. Shooting skills aren’t my concern, its her attitude that bothers me. ::Shayne nodded at that, understanding. Waters was obviously dealing with a lot, but the “woe is me” routine had to stop. They were bound for more trouble than any of them were prepared for if she didn’t. Fortunately, her recent chat with the helmswoman gave him a small inkling of hope in the matter. Only time would tell in the end.:: Shayne: You’ll set her right. This isn’t about her shooting. Gotta get her to move past whatever’s holding her back. ::Shayne would not give Pavlova the satisfaction of hearing that he could think of no one better qualified for the job.:: Pavlova: I figured you would say that. By the way, you might want to pick up the pace or you’ll still be here for tomorrow’s shift. Shayne: Sounds kind of relaxing, actually. I could grab a spare cot, and just tear paper away. Rip. Rip. Rip. ::Indeed, for some strange reason, the prospect had a strange sort of appeal. But he could think of no more effective ways to start the rumor mill and earn the captain’s wrath than by spending the night in Pavlova’s security office.:: Pavlova: You want a drink? We are off duty now, and by your sluggish pace you’ve got at least another hour or two of work ahead of you. ::Generally speaking, Shayne was not a big drinker. It didn’t agree with his temperamental stomach, and it didn’t do favors for his head, either. But it had become something of a tradition between the two of them recently. At first, it was a matter of relaxation. Then it was a matter of medication. Now it was… what? Tradition? He wasn’t sure he knew anymore. But considering the fact that he still had no idea what was waiting for him in the box, he could think of no better way to steel himself.:: ::He turned his head to accept the proposal, but Pavlova was already up and grasping several objects from inside a… was that a freezer? She brought them back to the desk, and Shayne looked at her in untempered astonishment, tinged with a drop of jealousy.:: Shayne: You know, I seen me a mermaid once. I’ve even seen a shark eat an octopus. But I ain’t never seen no phantom Russian minibar. ::The first officer watched as his frenemy poured a reasonable amount into the glass before Shayne, and then forego any pretense of civility by filling her cup to the brim.:: Pavlova: Nostrovia! Shayne: Skol! ::Shayne took a small sip of his vodka as Pavlova downed hers with the experience of someone who’d done it often. The stuff was noxious to Shayne, but he would not be outdrunk by Irina. He braced himself, and knocked back the rest of it, trying desperately not to appear in pain as his esophagus swiftly turned to liquid.:: Shayne: Well, if it’s a rabid vole, at least I’ll be able to laugh at it now. ::Nevertheless, he quickened his pace. If he stayed here too much longer, Irina might feel the need to pour them both another shot, and whether he ended up enjoying it or not, the result would not be good at all. Still careful to keep count, he began tearing at the paper in earnest.:: ::Irina saw him speed up his pace and couldn’t help but smile, then downed the rest of her drink and filled it up again.:: Pavlova: That’s the spirit! ::He tore and tore and tore, and got passed two hundred, and very narrowly missed tearing the oddly folded… something. Curious, he carefully removed it, and looked at it. This was no rabid vole. This was no Jack-in-the-Box. This was… an old piece of paper. Very old by the looks of it. On it was the sigil of the NX-02, and on the bottom… Commodore Vittorio Moretti USS Columbia, Commanding Shayne looked at Pavlova, eyes wide.:: Shayne: Now, wait just a minute… ::Either this really was an elaborate prank, or Pavlova was actually giving him something truly, substantially valuable. Something unique.:: Pavlova: What? You haven’t seen linen paper before? ::He honestly didn’t know what to feel. If this was a joke, he was going to feel mighty foolish. But he had a feeling this was more. And if it was…:: Shayne: ::Quietly.:: Is this real? Pavlova: I don’t know, how much did you drink? Of course it’s real., but its also still wrapped, so keep unwrapping. ::He knew the feel of what he was touching, and with a final tear, beheld the contents. Inside was a vibrantly colored, fully embroidered patch. The dark blue and red trim circled the image of an old Earth starship, and the words along the edge boldly proclaimed “Columbia.” On the bottom was Latin, and though he’d taken several years of it in school, he needed none of it to speak the motto emblazoned on the bottom.:: Shayne: “Fortune favors the bold.” Irina, this is… incredible. Pavlova: I know, right. I mean, of course it is. ::Shayne tried to frown at her words, but he couldn’t. It was absolutely gorgeous.:: Shayne: How the hell did you know I collected patches? I haven’t told anyone that here. Pavlova: What kind of detective would I be if I couldn’t find out all of your secrets? ::Shayne’s eyes squinted at her shrewdly. He kept his secrets very close to the chest, thank you very much, and he disliked the thought of Pavlova having anything on him, however innocuous.:: ::But the patch was really nice.:: ::As he ruffled further, he found the rank pips for a 22nd century lieutenant commander, and pulled them out slowly as well. He held it in his hand, sighing gently. It was gorgeous. Patches were his hobby, but rank and insignia of any sort stoked his fire.:: Shayne: All my secrets? Nah. But you’ve found the important one. ::Irina was very happy to know she still had it.:: Pavlova: I guess that means I won’t be transferring to Janitorial, which is what I was planning if my detective work had been poor. ::But there was more. On the bottom was a heavier package, and unwrapping it revealed… a jacket. No, Shayne realized. Not just any jacket. A certain dark brown leather affair. And on the side… was another Columbia patch.:: Shayne: Oh, no way. Pavlova: When mine was issued, I bought an extra for …., for someone important to me. Since I returned and learned of his oO and EVERYONE ELSE’S Oo passing, I’ve just kept it in storage. I know how much affection you have for your Columbia, so I thought you would appreciate this piece of my Columbia. ::The rivalry, or whatever it was, lay forgotten in that moment.:: Shayne: This is absolutely incredible. Thank you. ::He tried not to offer thanks too readily- in his experience, it was all too easy to confuse appreciation with an excuse from reciprocation. But here, there really wasn’t much else to say.:: Pavlova: I’m glad you like it. When you wear it, I hope it brings you good memories of your friends from your Columbia, and those who came before. ::She had meant the gift just as a simple movement of an item, from someone who no longer needed it, to someone she knew would treasure it, but memories got the better of her and a tear slid down from her left eye, over her cheek and then down onto her shirt.:: Pavlova: Too many of us never finished our tour. 36 went down to the surface of Kjenta II, but only four came back. ::She didn’t mention those rescued a few years later on the Thunder and not disclosed to Starfleet for their own protection.:: Pavlova: 48 went into stasis, and only 12 came out. Out of all of us, only two are still in Starfleet. ::Another tear, this time from her right eye, and again ignored.:: Pavlova: That jacket was meant for Katya’s father. I didn’t know I was pregnant when we shipped out, and we’d only been intimate the one night before, but we were best friends, inseparable since before either of us could even crawl. I was two months older, and Dimitri lived two doors down in our apartment building in St. Petersburg and my grandmother used to take care of both us while our parents worked. He was closer than my own brother and sister, but when the time came to join the defense forces, I was selected for recon sniper and he for navigation. ::She wiped a finger across her left eye, catching the forming tear before it could fall. She turned slightly away and took the opportunity to refill her glass and his, careful again to pour his very short to just one shot while actually overflowing her own by a few drops.:: Pavlova: Damn. Sometimes its all just a little too… ::She turned back, eyes slightly redder than usual and raised her glass.:: Pavlova: To those who didn’t come back, either completely or in part. Vittorio Moretti, Nicholas Lennon, Lan Treng, Prea Rashingham, Bill Thomas, Joan Hudson, Naomi Sakamura, … :: she went through the entire list, unerringly, of everyone who set sail with her that 20th of July in the year 2169.:: Pavlova: Gregori Stetlin, Eva Hauser, Graciela Solis, ::beat:: and an impossibly young Irina Pavlova. ::With the list complete, she raised her glass an inch or so, then downed it all again.:: ::Shayne watched, his elation taking on a grim stoicism. In a way, he almost wished he’d been there, if only to offer some kind of comfort to Pavlova. Would she take it if he offered? Would anything be served by commiserating? What could he do to make her feel the slightest bit better about her trauma? Nothing, he decided. There was nothing he could do, and it tasted like the bitterest ash. He had never subscribed to that mentality before, but in the face of grief like this, loneliness like this, of a sort that he could barely get his head around, nothing he could say would do much. Even trying to put himself in her shoes seemed like an insult of the highest order. So he simply sat there, uncomfortable but ready to listen, and found the slightest scrap of comfort in seeing that this person was a person. Not invulnerable. Not godlike. A person. And that he could drink to, shared experiences or no. He lifted his glass.:: Shayne: To the impossibly old one as well. ::Holding her with his eyes, he downed his glass again, enduring the stinging sensation as a rite of passage and enjoying an act that bore weight.:: Pavlova: Yeah, her too. ::Her voice was soft, another tear rolled down, but there was something more, a hint of a smile.:: Pavlova: You would have liked them. ::She poured them both more of the no-longer-ice-cold vodka and proceeded to tell him about those who had come before until far too late and far too many shots.:: LtCmdr Irina Pavlova Chief of Security, USS Eagle Author ID O238908HA0 And Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne First Officer USS Eagle NCC 74659 G239202RS0

Wow, this place has changed a bit! Looking good

Awesome JP's indeed. :-) Well done and congrats to both Quinn and Jo.

What can I say about this JP? Except... D'awww. (( Awards Ceremony )) :: The crowd was getting thick, and with no other problems at hand, Aria's mind was free to obsess and worry about nothing about that crowd. She grimaced and took a sip of her drink. :: Turner: :: walking up, teasing her a little about her shyness:: Bracing yourself for giving out promotions? Oddas: To be honest, Toni, sometimes it's still a little ... foreign. I'm a little surprised this what I do. :: Aria shrugged and looked back out on the crowd. :: Turner: :: facing the crowd with her:: I've always looked at it as one of the CO's more pleasant missions. Oddas: Well, don't tell anyone, but sometimes I actually admit I like it quite a bit. :: Aria gave Toni a humorous smile, then changed to something more genuine, she knew she owed a lot to the other woman: not everyone would look at a shy Engineer and say 'there's Command potential'. :: Turner: I never asked you to do anything that I wouldn't do myself. Well, except the things I didn't know how to do, but you did. :: Toni had the monthly report forms in mind, not to mention engineering duties.:: The secret is to project your voice to the back of the assembly, and never let them see you sweat. :: Turning to glimpse the podium, she asked.:: Turner: Is the comm on the podium working? :: Aria looked at the podium toward the back of the room, as it was mostly holographic she had to assume it was working - otherwise, it would be a fairly bad trick and more realism than she cared to experience. :: Oddas: I would imagine so. Turner: Mind if I check it for you? Technical difficulties will only make you more nervous. :: Aria gestured toward the podium with her free hand and Toni took the podium smiling about what she was about to do. Projecting her soft voice with the aid of the comm, she called for attention.:: Turner: Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention, please. :: It took a few moments for the crowd to settle down to quiet whispers and the music to stop playing in the background, but when it did, she began.:: Turner: Tonight we have gathered here on the USS Eagle for the promotions of some of the brightest, most competent officers in the fleet. Officers who work within the crew seeing to the safety of their crewmates and making decisions for the betterment of the ship and Starfleet as a whole. Some will be from different species and different planets, but they all bring unique experiences from living life, and sharing them in a cooperative effort to bring peace and tranquility to the Galaxy. A few years ago, one such officer came to the Embassy on Duronis II. She was an unassuming, shy person, who sought no public attention or acclaim, but within her glowed a spark of potential that made her stand out from the rest. :: turning to Aria, smiling:: Yes, I'm talking about you. :: Aria fought back some embarrassment, forcing herself to remain standing still and not fidget, despite being the center of too much attention in the room. She let the Admiral continue. :: Turner: Everything you did to better the crew and the Embassy allowed you to hit every mark for promotion. And this time you have hit the final mark that makes your days as a Commander come to an end. :: taking a small silver box from her pocket and removing a lone pip.:: I am pleased and proud to be the one to promote you to Captain. :: Pinning the fourth pip on Aria's collar, and hugging her congratulations, Toni turned back to the crowd, beginning the applause. Aria let herself smile and holding back her own emotions. :: Turner: Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Captain Aria Oddas! :: Stepping back and continuing her applaud with the others, tears of happiness began to well in Toni's eyes. Aria had met the potential and the next step up awaited her. Aria looked around the room, friends, crew, family, applauding for her, and she was touched. :: Oddas: Toni, everyone, thank you very much. I will spare you my normal long speech and just say, Thank You, I'm honored, and I will continue to strive to make you, and everyone proud of me. TBC Captain Oddas Aria Commanding Officer USS Eagle, NCC-74659 ASDB Co-Facilitator / Training Team / Captains Council E239305OA0 and Rear Admiral Toni Turner Commanding Officer Embassy Duronis II - USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: E238209TT0

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... ))

I wanted to give a shoutout to @Lael Rosek and @German Galven for a wonderful scene they wrote together. I particularly liked how this scene shows the growth of Rosek's character, who as she notes when talking to Galven, was once in his position of being told that a line had been crossed (you can read *that* scene "Tempestuous Trio" here: Parts One , Two , and Three). It's great to see this kind of character development in our fleet. Furthermore, this scene was constructed through the regular tag system back-and-forth rather than a joint post and is a great demonstration of how substantial and intimate scenes like this can be constructed in the typical tagging system and not just left for JPs. Well-done, both of you! (OOC: The completed scene below is constructed from several sims.) ((Bridge, USS Montreal)) {{Time Index: A half hour after landing}} Rosek: Can we disable them without destroying them, Commander? ::She prayed the answer was yes. She really didn’t want the blood of 200 otherwise innocent people on her hands. She was already barely able to live with the blood that seemed to permanently stain her hands from the lives she’d been forced to take during her career just to survive.:: Tel-ar: I can disable both warp drives on your command. Estimated 3.47 minutes before they reach long range Rosek: ::pauses:: Can we do it without destroying the vessels? Tel-ar: There is always a chance, :: Tal did some quick calculations and simulations on the computer before he finished speaking. :: There is a 38.362% chance that the freighter might suffer more damage than expected and 13.275% chance of the smaller vessel suffering more damage than expected. ::A quiet sigh of relief passed her lips. There was a chance, no matter how small, that despite their best intentions, they’d end up doing more harm than they intended. If she managed to get to the end of this day without having to take a single life, it would be a good day. She had no desire for it to become a habit nor did she want it to become a running theme. She’d signed up to save lives, not take them.:: Ch'Dargon: Those percentages are high, these ships were not designed very well. The freighters in my home system could take much more. :: He bragged a bit unintentionally.:: Tel-ar: A number of the freighters more vulnerable systems such as life support and the impulse engines are in very close proximity to their warp engines. There is only a small margin for error. Hamasaki: We can have the shuttles perform a rescue if necessary, although, with quarantine protocols in effect, it'd just be beaming them to a hospital directly from the freighter or our makeshift sickbay. Dante: We can take that action in no time Commander. Hamasaki: We should have our patrol in range to cover most of the possible launch vectors within 4 minutes. ::beat:: They'll be just too slow to directly engage with the current ships attempting to break the quarantine. ::Lael took only a moment to take in all of the information being presented to her before turning to Tel-ar with a curt nod. It wasn’t an easy decision by any means and was one of the most difficult ones she’d had to make since becoming first officer. With Mei on the surface talking with the Klingon delegation, this choice was on her.:: Rosek: Do everything you can to minimize the damage, Commander, but if it comes to it-- ::turns back to face the viewscreen:: To quote the Vulcans, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few”. Rosek: Damage to the ships? Hamasaki: I'm reading some damage to their communications and life-support systems. Rosek: ::to Hamasaki:: Get our shuttles out there to recover the ships’ occupants. All of our personnel must maintain quarantine. Advise them they’ll need EVA suits. Hamasaki: Aye. They're already nearing the freighter. Rosek: ::presses her thumb to the button on the armchair:: =/\=Rosek to Skyfire.=/\= Skyfire: =/\=Go ahead, commander. =/\= Rosek: =/\=I know you have your hands full down there, but we have two vessels full of passengers that tried to breach quarantine and they might need medical assistance. Prep a couple of your medics with the necessary supplies to treat the passengers.=/\= Skyfire: =/\=On it. I’ll pull a personnel hat trick and find the people.=/\= Rosek: =/\=Understood. Rosek out.=/\= ::She sat in silence for a long moment, contemplating what had just happened and the call that she’d just made. A grimace twisted her features and she had to remind herself that she was here because Mei trusted her judgement and had faith that she could handle situations like this. She’d never felt the burden of command so heavily as she did in that moment. Her choice could just as easily have resulted in 200 deaths. It wasn’t something she’d chosen lightly, but that didn’t change the risk she’d taken.:: ::Meanwhile, Dr. German Galven had stopped by Sickbay to see how everything was going and overheard some of the conversation between Lael and Chythar over the CMO’s commbadge. He wasn’t too sure that what they had done was the right thing. And of all people, Lael made that decision to stop the ships, but at what cost? He quickly got the bridge and arrived as the conversation between the officers was dwindling down.:: Tel-ar: Thrusters off line… :: short pause. :: last passengers beamed off. It will crash about 5 miles away from the city. Rosek: :: leans back in the chair :: They were the first...but I doubt they’ll be the last. Stay on your toes. Hamasaki: Ma'am, the shuttles are already in orbit and moving to intercept. They'll need to standby for beam out. There's only one left if we need to scramble it for another emergency. Galven: I’m confused. Why are we shooting at ships? ::He was indeed confused and was oblivious to how Lael wasn’t too happy about his sudden appearance on the Bridge. He did, however, notice that everyone was looking at him with curiosity as to why he was there asking that. He then walked around to where Lael was and saw that her eyes were closed, but for a moment.:: ::German’s sudden appearance had her fighting not to jump. It was a perfectly reasonable question, but something about the way he asked it made her tense. Her hands wrapped around the arms of the chair she currently occupied and she had to force herself to be conscious of how tight her grip was so she didn’t damage Mei’s chair. She could easily have left indents from the tips of her fingers, possibly even mangled the arms. Closing her eyes for a long moment, she drew in and then released a steadying breath. She owed him no explanation and didn’t offer one beyond a simple statement of fact.:: Rosek: Vessels containing 200 potentially infected people tried to break quarantine. Galven: My apologies, but isn’t there a better way to handle that kind of situation? ::Lael rose from the chair, turning to face German as she drew herself up to her full height, her bright blue eyes piercing his. Logically, she knew German hadn’t intended to challenge her...only her decision. But the poorly-chosen moment for his frankness had placed her in a difficult position. To maintain her authority with the rest of the crew, she’d need to call him on it.:: ::When Lael rose from her seat, her gaze met his. The way she was looking at him should have caused him to stop talking, but then the Andorian spoke which threw him off and he turned his head to look over at tactical station.:: Tel-ar: They were given a direct order to land and more than enough time to comply with that order, Chief. Galven: We could try communicating with them? If they don’t comply, then trap them in a stasis field? Hamasaki: Projecting a stasis field over kilometers through atmospheric attenuation is .. rather risky. In addition, they knew that under Federation Code 335 § 89.922 once a planetary quarantine is declared, all merchants are to stay in orbit until cleared by planetary authorities. That said… ::Wisely, the young ensign allowed her sentence to trail off without finishing it. The last thing Lael needed was two officers openly questioning her judgement. It set a bad precedent. Regardless of whether she was right or not, protocol demanded that she be awarded the respect of dissenters voicing their thoughts to her privately so they didn’t stir up a mutiny. Though she doubted one incident would lead to that, allowing it to happen again and again very well could.: Rosek: ::without breaking German’s gaze:: Thank you, Ensign Hamasaki. Keep an eye out for any other ships that are looking to break quarantine. ::It was then that German realized he made a mistake in questioning Lael and everyone esle on the bridge when the ensign helmswoman stopped talking and how Lael had never took her eyes off of his gaze. He had seen her like this before, but it was during the time when they were on the decaying planet and they were fighting the pirates. This time, he was on the receiving end of her daggers. He shifted nervously.:: Tel-ar: The city has dispatched a security detail to deal with the exploratory vessel and its occupants. They have informed me that they will keep us informed, in case there are any further problems. Hamasaki: The shuttles are reporting that approximately 50 people need attention from the freighter, and they've got a complaint from the freighter captain, but are returning it to orbit for orbital facilities to handle the rest. They're standing by to beam up medical personnel and begin SAR. Rosek: ::nods:: Noted. ::turns to Tel-ar:: Commander Tel-ar, you have the bridge. Comm me immediately if more ships try to break quarantine. ::to German:: May I see you in the ready room? ::It wasn't a request and she hoped German would pick up on that. As much as she was dreading this conversation, they needed to have it. He had to understand the magnitude of what he’d almost done.:: Tel-ar: As you wish. ::The Denobulan hesitated before he spoke. He knew now he had broken a rule. Now being alone in a room with a woman scorned wasn’t what he had planned on doing, but he complied.:: Galven: Yes, ma’am. ::Without looking to see if he followed, she crossed the bridge in a few long strides, the irritation clear in her posture, her hands tucked behind her back as she entered the ready room for what she was convinced would be one of the most awkward conversations of her career.:: : :He followed her close behind and noticed by the way she was walking that the Al-Leyan wasn’t too happy about what German just said. His posture was a little sunk in as he approached the door, then glanced back at everyone on the bridge, then turned.:: ((Ready Room, USS Montreal)) ::The moment the doors closed behind them, she turned to him, her lips a thin line. Despite her best attempts, she was certain her features couldn’t appropriately convey the hardness she was trying for because this was German. She couldn’t look at him with the severity she knew the situation warranted. She didn’t need a mirror to know that her eyes were giving her away with the softness in them.:: : :Once his inside, German stood still with his posture straightened and his hands clasped together behind him. He knew he was about to be dressed down for his behavior just a few seconds ago by the way Lael’s lips formed a straight line. He looked straight on past her once she began to speak.:: Rosek: Remind me, Lieutenant. What’s the proper protocol to follow if you disagree with a choice your commanding officer has made in a given situation? Galven: Not say anything until a moment presents itself to talk with them privately. Rosek: ::arches an eyebrow:: So you’re aware of the protocol, but you chose to ignore it despite the potential consequences. : :He was aware of it, but at the time he was so bewildered that he forgot about the protocol. He had broken that trust between ranking officials. He was straining himself to glance at her, but wanted to remain as professional as ever for her.:: Galven: ::voice quivering:: I’m sorry, but::beat::I was confused and-- Rosek: ::scowls:: You arrived on the bridge after the fact with no knowledge of the details and decided I’d made the wrong call. ::She was right. He didn't know what to say after she told him that. What German did was incredibly stupid and he knew it.:: ::She took a couple of steps forward, a dangerous glint in her eye as she stopped an arm’s length away from him.:: ::As she stepped closer to him, his gaze met hers and saw how upset she was with him.:: ::If looks could kill.:: Rosek: If you’re going to serve under my command, I need to know that you’ll follow the orders I give you regardless of whether you agree with them. What you did out there demonstrated an astonishing lack of trust in my ability to make decisions that are in the best interests of all parties involved. Galven: ::lips quivering:: Commander, I have never not trusted your ability to lead and I have a feeling that was a difficult decision to make, but at the time I was confused as to what was happening. I was stupid. ::It took everything she had not to drop her mask as she saw how upset he was. His reaction was flaring her temper and she had to get it under control. The way he was acting felt manipulative even if logically she knew that wasn’t his intention. She knew from past experience that German was his own worst critic and was probably more upset with himself than she was with him.:: ::In truth, she wasn’t upset. Just disappointed. She had to force herself to remember a time when she’d stood in front of Rahman feeling the exact same way German did right now. She’d prayed at the time for the deck to open up and swallow her whole, so ashamed of her outburst that she’d seriously had to fight tears. Against her will, her expression softened slightly.:: ::Lael didn’t say anything which made the situation a little more awkward and made German wonder what she was thinking. He wanted to know more about her reasoning behind her motives back on the bridge. Granted, she didn’t have to tell him, but the Denobulan’s curiosity got the better of him.:: Galven: Permission to speak freely, Commander? Rosek: ::murmurs:: Go ahead, Lieutenant. Galven: We are going to have enough on our hands treating to sick, but now there's going to injured people on board. How will they trust us knowing we were the ones that hurt them? ::She had to clench her fists to keep her temper in check at the reminder of the similar statement he’d made on the bridge moments before. He was right. She should have at least tried to give the ships a warning. Everything had happened so quickly and her primary focus had been on ensuring whatever illness those people were potentially infected with didn’t leave the planet.:: ::She’d shut off her emotions and, clearly with them, her empathy. She was thankful it hadn’t ended in disaster. It was a burden she’d carry for a long time...until she could forgive herself. If she ever did.:: ::The way the Al-Leyan responded by clenching her fists made German move back a little. He wanted to brace himself for a storm.:: Rosek: Be that as it may, Lieutenant...the bridge is not the proper forum to express your concerns when you come strolling in after the fact having not been present for what led up to the course of action. ::She didn’t exactly answer the question, but German reminded himself that it wasn’t his place to question her. He didn’t want another incident like the both of them had down in the mines during the Havley’s Hope mission.:: Galven: I understand that. I'm incredibly sorry for breaking your trust and that's the God's honest truth. I'll accept any punishment you have for me. ::pauses:: And I hope you can forgive me. Rosek: ::rolls her eyes:: Enough with the groveling. ::huffs:: If you truly believe what you’re saying, stand by it. ::The statement had come out more than a tad harsher than she’d intended it to, but it irritated her to no end when people asked forgiveness even if they’d made a mistake. To her, it had always been a sign of weakness...though she knew that wasn’t true of everyone. She rarely, if ever, apologized when receiving criticism or advice from her superiors. She simply acknowledged that it had been given to her and confirmed her understanding with a simple “yes, sir” or “yes, ma’am”.:: ::It was how she’d survived the Academy with them constantly drilling down on the cadets those first few months to make the weak ones quit. But she’d been damned and determined not to be one of the ones who was weeded out.:: Galven: ::straightens his posture:: Yes, ma’am. Rosek: ::meets his gaze:: I once stood where you are, Lieutenant. I made a mistake and questioned my direct superior, Luna Walker, in front of the entire senior staff AND the Antor II governor. When Captain Rahman called me and Commander Walker into her ready room, I silently prayed that a gaping hole would form in the deck and that I’d fall through. But I stood my ground. The only apology I offered was where and in front of whom I had made the remarks. I didn’t ask for forgiveness because I knew my commitment to never make that mistake again was enough. ::She was trying to give him advice...to toughen him up for the climb up the ladder. Apologies didn’t fix the mistake, action did. No matter how sincere his apology, if he couldn’t back it up with action, it wouldn’t matter. It was something she’d learned the hard way at the Academy and in certain situations out here. :: ::He felt somewhat better that she had been in his shoes before, but he knew not to do it ever again. The situation was more of a one time experience. And he fully was capable of putting it locked away in his memory bank. If Captain Rahman was there, she’d be very disappointed in him. Also the Caitian commander. Which made him wonder how they were doing and if there was any progress.:: Galven: I’m not going to make the mistake again as well. Rosek: ::expression softens slightly:: Have you ever heard of Anne Frank, Lieutenant? : :Thinking back to his Academy days, he had never heard of the woman’s name. He tried to remember if there was any mention of her in his history classes.:: Galven: ::shakes his head:: The name doesn’t ring a bell, no. ::She didn’t figure he would have. The young woman’s story was an inspiration to Terrans even today. She’d first read The Diary of Anne Frank in high school. English had been her least favorite subject, but something about the story had touched her heart and had stayed with her ever since.:: Rosek: ::gaze drops from his for a moment before returning to it:: She was a young Jewish girl who became a victim of a fascist group who believed that Aryans were the master race and anyone who didn’t fit that mold was rounded up and slaughtered. Galven: That’s horrible… Rosek: She died at 16. But before she did, she said this: “What is done cannot be undone, but at least one can keep it from happening again.” ::lays a hand on his shoulder and squeezes:: We all make mistakes, Lieutenant. What makes us stronger is doing everything in our power not to repeat those mistakes. : :That was lesson to be learned and also keep very well in his mind. Lael was giving him his confidence back by telling him about the girl and her situation. The disgusting depravity of people and how they were ignorant of other races. Historical mistakes of people surely needed to be remembered and not have it repeated. He shook his head and frowned at such a life for a teenager. Most likely scared and wondering what was to be next. Then dying in the hands of the disgusting level of what a group would do to gain power.:: Galven: Lesson learned, ma’am. You can count on me to do better. ::She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the chirp of her commbadge. She’d been so wrapped up in the situation with German that she’d almost forgotten she was expecting an update on the set-up of the quarantine zone. She tapped her commbadge, Solok’s voice coming through.:: Solok: =/\= Solok to Doctor Skyfire and Commander Rosek. =/\= Skyfire: =/\= Skyfire here, doctor. =/\= Rosek: ::murmurs:: I should get back to the bridge and you're needed down below. Galven: Yes ma’am. ::turns to the door, then glances back at Lael:: Thank you. ::Lael opened her mouth to speak, but as the doors closed she was hit with the most disorienting sensation followed by a flash of an image so brief that she couldn’t make it out. She gasped, gripping the edge of Mei’s desk to remain standing. Her footing was still shaky at best as she rose to her full height, straightening her uniform.:: Rosek: =/\=Rosek here. Go ahead, Doctors.=/\= --- Lieutenant Commander Lael Rosek Executive Officer USS Montreal I238110RH0 & Lieutenant German Galven Chief Science Officer USS Montreal V239507GG0

The first thing Joan Basilone noticed, as she made her way through the Promenade of Starbase 118, was just how short everyone was. Not that Joan towered over anybody. At a hundred and sixty centimeters, most of the sentient beings she had ever met were still taller than her. But she had grown up with four brothers who were all more than two meters tall. Add to that fact that most of her brothers' friends played on the same Epa'ani club as her brothers (and thus were quite sizable themselves), and it was understandable that Joan didn't feel quite as...Lilliputian...when she was away from the colony world she had grown up on. Joan stood beside a window displaying a variety of flowers from across the Federation and beyond as she took in all the sights. She had arrived a day earlier than required, and had spent a good deal of that riding the turbolifts up and down, finding a restaurant from her home world in the San Francisco district and just generally gawking. Not that Joan was the bumpkin she might have been considered when she first reported to the Academy five years ago. But San Francisco and other Earth cities didn't have the...grittiness, for lack of a better word, that SB 118's Commercial sector had. Or maybe a better description would be to say that the mingling of cultures on SB118 didn't feel as sanitized as it did back in San Francisco. Or at least that's how it felt to Joan. "For you, young lady," a voice said from behind Joan. Startled, Joan turned around to see an elderly male humanoid with a V shaped ridge on his forehead, about her same height, holding a small bouquet of red flowers towards her. "Moon blossoms," he added. "I just received a shipment yesterday." "I...thank you," Joan said, not sure how to respond. "They're beautiful." The elderly man nodded. "It's a small tradition of mine. Whenever a new class of cadets come in, one invariably finds themselves in front of my shop, and I like to make a small gift. A little service I can do for the fleet and government that lets me sell flowers in peace." The older man paused before adding, "I was about to close my shop for my midday meal. Would you do me the honor of joining me?" "It would be my honor," Joan beamed. The florist smiled and, with a bow of his head and a gesture of his hand, led Joan to the back of his shop. His name was Hraduk, and he obviously had a talent of putting visitors at ease. He served her a simple lunch, but everything came in courses, and each dish had a story of its history on Hraduk's homeworld. And after each story, Hraduk was able to pull a story out of Joan. Simple things, like learning how to surf at the age of six, or when she attended the university near her at the age of fourteen to take advanced mathematics while taking the rest of her classes at her high school. Over the entree, Joan found herself talking about how separated she felt from the rest of her family when it was discovered that not only had she not inherited her Haliian mother's empathetic abilities, but she was unable to mentally connect with her mother at all. And then how her family had rallied around her to make sure she didn't feel isolated. "The thing I want you to remember," Hraduk said, as he set a rice dessert down in front of Joan and himself, "Is that you will never be isolated in your career. There is a line from the playwright Shakespeare...Klingon or Human, I cannot remember...but it states, 'We few, we happy few, we band of brothers, for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.' That is the thing to remember, cadet. That will be the caliber of people you will be serving with. You must be ready to live up to that level." Hraduk looked up at the stylized clock on his wall, and when Joan followed his gaze, she noticed for the first time that it was in the shape of the emblem of the Starfleet Marine Corps. "I need to get back to work, Cadet," Hraduk said with a smile. "So I must send you on your way. But I would appreciate you keeping in touch. I like to keep in touch with all my cadets." Joan made her profuse thanks as Hraduk escorted her to the door. There were already two customers outside the door, waiting for Hraduk to reopen his shop. With a smile, Hraduk went to waiting on his customers as Joan headed down the promenade, flowers in her hands and more than a few thoughts bouncing around in her head.

The Executive Council is very happy to announce the promotions of several staff members: Quinn Reynolds, commanding officer of USS Gorkon & StarBase 118 Academy Commandant, has been promoted to Vice Admiral. Jalana Rajel, commanding officer of USS Constitution-B, has been promoted to Fleet Captain. Sal Taybrim, commanding officer of StarBase 118 Ops, has been promoted to Fleet Captain. Roshanara Rahman, commanding officer of USS Veritas, has been promoted to Fleet Captain. Emma, the writer for Vice Admiral Reynolds, has been with the fleet for 12 years now and has been a steady hand, an incredibly capable simmer, and the consummate leader in her time with the fleet. Before her last promotion, Rear Admiral Renos described her as a tremendous force for good, stating, “As a writer, she has gained recognition through the top sims competition and the writing challenges. She is much loved by the crew she leads with a fair and even hand. She is dedicated, passionate about the fleet and generous with her time. She has worked in many roles including Captain’s Council Magistrate, Captain at Large, EC member, Cadet Steward and Deputy Commandant for the Academy to name a few and has excelled in them all.” Today, she continues to lead the USS Gorkon as its captain and serves as the Academy Commandant. Her incredible service to the fleet shows the kind of dedication Emma has to making the fleet work. —Written by Fleet Admiral Tristan Wolf Jess, the writer for Fleet Captain Rajel, is a stalwart member of the Starbase 118 staff, running her ship with tremendous care, dedication and an even hand. Under her leadership, the Constitution is approaching its fourth year of service — a fantastic achievement for any CO — and is well-regarded around the fleet as a stable, successful ship that’s a lot of fun to be aboard. That’s not her only involvement in the fleet — who could overlook what she’s done leading the Image Collective? The work this team does is so integral to our fleet, and brings a huge amount of joy to our members when they see their characters realised in a picture. Not to mention all the contributions Jalana has personally made, from ship banners and logos to many of our awards and service ribbons. For all these reasons, a promotion to the rank of Fleet Captain is a well-deserved recognition of all the time, effort and devotion that she has poured into our fleet. —Written by Vice Admiral Quinn Reynolds Jamie, the writer for Fleet Captain Taybrim, has been the CO of Starbase 118 Operations for closing on three years, and its First Officer prior to that. As a fixed installation, Ops sometimes requires a little thinking outside the box to keep missions fresh and interesting in the long term, and Jamie has proven more than up to the task, bringing excitement, flair and fun in equal measure to our namesake sim. That’s not all she does. The fleet chats are a hugely popular event that run so well and so smoothly because of Jamie’s efforts in organising and moderating them. She’s a valuable voice on the EC, bringing her leadership experience in other RP mediums to any discussion, often providing a unique and useful point of view because of it. It was just last year that Sal was awarded the Staff Member of the Year. All of this speaks highly of Jamie, and clearly demonstrates someone who is well-deserving of a promotion to Fleet Captain. —Written by Vice Admiral Quinn Reynolds Rich, the writer for Fleet Captain Rahman, has changed our group for the better many times over. From his early days simply improving the wiki with a host of new images and templates, to where he stands now as the outgoing Captain at Large, commanding officer of the Veritas, Deputy Commandant of the Academy, facilitator and founder of the Federation News Service team and spinoff website, and my own personal Jiminy Cricket, he’s shown us time and again how dedicated he is to the success of our community and to our members, who have a loyal advocate in this staff member. For all these reasons, Rich deserves the promotion to the rank of Fleet Captain as recognition for all his hard work, and to place him in an honored position in our fleet as one of our highest ranking members and leaders. —Written by Fleet Admiral Tristan Wolf Head to our forums now to join us in congratulating these fine members of our fleet! The post Quinn Reynolds promoted to Vice Admiral; Jalana Rajel, Sal Taybrim, and Roshanara Rahman promoted to Fleet Captain appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

((OOC - a couple things before we get started: (1) This is in no way connected to our current mission, plot, or story. For the new folks, the [BELOW] tag is something we've been trying out to give players the chance to write off-duty/non-mission-related posts in order to flesh out their character, build descriptions of the ship, etc. (2) This JP is one that Justin and I have been working on for about 2 months now as a special Halloween treat for you all. We hope you enjoy it! (3) It uses the old format, but as we haven't formally adopted the new one until Friday, I pray your indulgence. Now, please enjoy PART ONE!!)) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ((USS Eagle, Deck 3 - outside room 332, Quentin Collins’ room [stardate 239610.31 - Quentin's birthday])) ::Kayla paced in front of Quentin’s door in what she felt was a very impractical dress. She couldn’t figure out why she was so nervous. She’d been preparing this surprise for her friend for weeks now, and was SURE everything was perfect. She knew the details were just right - that had to be priority one. Quentin would know if anything was out of place. Of course he would be too considerate to say if anything was wrong, but she knew, given how much of a classic horror buff he was, that if anything was off … well, she’d done a ridiculous amount of research in preparing this surprise, so everything was as good as it could possibly be.:: ::She came to a stop, still facing down the corridor toward her own quarters. Charlie had Katya over tonight for a sleep-over, so by now they’d probably be giggling about … something. It wasn’t too late for Kayla back out. She could just contact Quen and say she was tired. Or that she wanted to keep an eye on the girls. Or … something. oO Coward. Oo Turning, she faced the door. With a shaking hand, she pressed the intercom button. The answer came almost immediately.:: Collins: Come in! ::Entering the room, Kayla saw Collins dressed in a 3-piece suit from late 19th Century western Europe. The stark black contrasted nicely with the starched, high-collared shirt he wore under his vest.:: ::Quentin Collins was all about an occasion to dress, but he usually liked to know the reason that way he could keep an eye on the social horizon as it were. The whole thing reminded him of one of Mother’s themed costumed affairs, but there was no way Kay could know about those horrors. As she entered, he was fussing with his sleeve cuffs.:: Collins: Hey, are you sure about these costumes? I mean, you look fine, but I feel like I’m being strangled by a very weak person right now. Drex: ::chuckling:: Yes, they’re a must. I don’t know what YOU’RE complaining about. You’re not wearing a bodice. Collins: ::He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it into a tight smile.:: Touche. Fair enough. So what’s this all about? ::A mischievous smile pulled at the corners of Kayla’s painted lips. For some reason it made Quentin the fun kind of nervous.:: Drex: You’ll see. I’m not ruining your birthday surprise by telling you what it is before you’ve even opened it! ::The look on his face was priceless. She almost laughed out loud, but was enjoying the feeling of having the upper hand, so she fought the urge.:: Drex: What? Did you think I didn’t know? What kind of department head do you take me for, Mister Collins? ::To say his birthday was a sore subject with him would have been the understatement of the century and it would take twice as long to get into it fully with her. But now he was free and in open waters, as it were. What was to stop him from finally taking it back. He pulled down his suddenly very comfortable topcoat. And snapped up to look at his friend.:: Collins: Ok, Chief. Lead the way. ((Deck 6 - Holodeck 1)) ::The pair had drawn some raised eyebrows on their trek down to the holodeck, but no one had actually asked about their odd choices of off-duty attire. Now they stood in the familiar setting of yellow grid on black.:: Drex: Ready? Collins: You know I am. Kay, what IS this? Drex: ::ignoring her friend’s question:: Computer, load program “Drexula” and hold visuals at time index 0.01. ::The change was nearly instantaneous. The grid vanished from the walls, floor, and ceiling, changing to a scene completely different. That much typical in the holodeck. Kayla’s special touches to this program however, was a strange hum. It was everywhere yet nowhere but in their ears.:: ::It felt like a light crackling for a second between Quentin’s ears. He worked his jaw a second and felt instant relief. It was like diving a bit too quickly, but the steady hum still buzzed through his mind pleasantly.:: Collins: What’s that hum? Drex: It’s binaural tones. Back in the early 21st Century, there was something of a craze with them. The science behind them is essentially that they can alter the listener's brainwaves. I wanted this particular simulation to be more … immersive than others. Don’t worry too much though, you shouldn’t even notice the sounds after about two or three minutes. ::Quentin just stared, now starting to get the less fun kind of nervous. But the Chief seemed to have everything well in hand. Kayla was pleased that he seemed to appreciate the extra effort this took. Realistically, the setting and plot were simple enough. Syncing the binaural stimulus was the real tricky part.:: ::Now that the binaural shock had passed, it was time to begin. They looked around at their surroundings. They were in a small village or hamlet nestled in a rather austere but lovely range of sharp mountains. Kayla knew them to be the Carpathians, but now was not the time to play the tour guide. A man whose face was so weathered it masked his age with great alacrity walked briskly up to them. His billowing pant legs, tucked into the tops of his tall boots, made a swishing sound with each step. As he drew closer, he stretched out a leathery hand in stiff but genial greeting.:: Popescu: Welcome! You must be the visitors I was told of. I am Popescu Alexandru. Drex: ::whispering to Collins:: Surname first. You should say hi first. Patriarchy, and all that. ::Quentin shuffled awkwardly up to the man, still trying to drink in all the details of their new setting. It was painfully familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it yet. He would get there eventually, but first he had to get through this interaction first.:: Collins: Oh, aye. The name is Collins from up London way and this is my...secretary Miss Drex. Assigned by the firm, you know how it is. But she does good work! Well, her knees are going but STILL! ::He winked over in Kayla’s direction, relishing the sudden pointed scowl she wore. She may have put all this amazing time and effort into this whole charade, but that wasn’t going to stop him having a BIT of fun with her.:: Popescu: Good, good! Yes, I run the inn right up the road, I received word three days ago there would be two visitors. Tell me, what brings you to our quiet village? ::Kayla stepped up to deliver her line, all but shoving Quentin out of the way to do so.:: Drex: We have been invited by the local count has invited us to the castle for the weekend. ::Alexandru’s face turned ash gray so fast, Kayla thought for a second it could have been a glitch in the program. When he crossed himself though, she knew everything was still working properly.:: ::Quentin [...]ed an eyebrow at the sudden display of ancient superstition. Excitement started to rise in his throat. He had a sneaking suspicion as to where they were now. He felt stupid he didn’t get it sooner.:: Propescu: M-may I ask … forgive me, but … why would you go to the castle? Drex: It’s old, we’re curious, and vampires are just a superstition? What more reason do we need? ::Propescu Alexandru crossed himself again at the word “vampire,” and muttered something under his breath the program didn’t bother interpreting. Kay shot him a look again, telegraphing his cue. He beamed and stepped back onto “center stage” through the packed mud of the old way street. Clearing his throat to speak, he tried to do his best impression of his dad. All business.:: Collins: We have been invited by the Count as potential investors in a looming property deal, good sir. We haven’t the time to faff about with ancient superstitions. Please, sir, my associate and I are weary, if you won’t cart us to the Castle, surely you can provide us rooms for the night. We have coin to pay. ::He shrugged a bit toward Kayla, assuming if she took the time to detail all this, surely she gave them some kind of walking around money.:: Propescu: I regret that I have no rooms for to offer you on this evening. Drex: ::noticing his English grew worse with his agitation:: I thought … didn’t you just say you’d been told before that guests would be coming, and that you had made preparations? Propescu: ::looking mildly ascanse at being called out by a woman:: That was a mistake of my own. It has just returned to my mind that those rooms were taken by two other visitors - doubtless the ones about which I was alerted. My deepest apologies. ::Kayla looked at Quentin with a not entirely affected look of annoyance, but shrugged. She’d built in several layers of adaptive programming in this programming. The characters would respond not only to direct stimuli, but to stimuli generated by interactions resulting from the responses of less visible interactions. Right now, it seemed that this innkeeper, with all his words of welcome, was longer interested in playing host - however temporary - to those that had been summoned by the count.:: Drex: Well then, is there a carriage or cart we can hire to take us to the castle early? Propescu: That may be difficult to arrange, but I will talk to some associates of mine to see what can be done for you. Please take in the sights of our village while you wait. ::Quentin huffed, leaning a bit more into the character he was playing with in the early moments of their holo-adventure. The Chief looked like she was having fun too, but he couldn’t help but notice a ripple of annoyance through her face. Was the program not giving up narrative like it should be? That innkeeper certainly turned about weirdly after she mentioned The Count. But that was all part of the fun for Quentin. He knew for sure (mostly maybe) where they were now. Now the real fun of testing the boundaries of the narrative could start.:: Collins: Good DAY, sir. ::He turned away from the now trembling man and finally allowed himself to absorb the rest of the details of their surroundings:: ::The scenery was indeed extremely picturesque. The thatched-roof buildings that lined the streets bore brightly-colored shingle signs advertising a variety of services. A butcher, cobbler, hooper, blacksmith, and several others were among those that lined the main, cobblestone road. Off this way, there were smaller buildings, doubtless the homes of the tradesmen and women that ran these businesses. Though modest, the hamlet appeared to be comfortably prosperous. Nestled between two large mountains, Kayla supposed they were sheltered from the worst of inclement weather conditions. The flora of the immediate region boasted delicate but hardy greenery, mostly short and scrubby. Looking further, around the cluster of buildings, Kayla noted that there were no old growth trees near the town, even though the lower rises of the surrounding mountains were carpeted by trees so ancient they bore heavy mantles of lichen and thick mosses. It was almost as though the people of this township were beating back the very landscape, and were content insofar that this waged war against nature was successful. It gave Kayla a momentary chill, but having no reason or inclination to dwell on such speculation, she brushed it aside as a thought bright on by the strange start to their adventure.:: Drex: Well, it looks like we have a little time before we leave here. What are you in the mood for? Shopping? Sightseeing? ::He turned an instant about face toward his friend with a huge smile on his face. He held out his hands to her.:: Collins: I just have one question. And I really need you to be honest with me. Drex: Always. What’s your question? Collins: Is this Dracula? Did you make me a whole Dracula thing? ::Kayla looked at Quentin somewhat coyly.:: Drex: I’m not saying it’s not, but at the same time … not exactly? It’s based on the book, but I’ve set this some time before Jonathan Harker’s visit. In other words, we’re us - visiting the count per his invitation. ::suddenly nervous that she’d spoiled the present:: Does that sound ok? ::Quentin instinctively clasped her hands and started to, for lack of a better term, freak the eff out, bouncing on the balls of his feet still with his friend’s hands comfortably clasped in his own. His whole history with gifts was horribly spotty, but this? This was…:: Collins: This is everything, Kayla truly. Thank you thank you thank you. Also I’m sorry if I got mud on your dress. Drex: ::laughing:: No, the dress is fine. I’m so glad you like the program, but it’s only just started! Wait till you see … wait, no. You’ll see. ::He unlatched her hands and started to whirl around the village. The detailing of the whole thing was almost intoxicating. Once Quentin found his bearings he started to try and take in the finer details. He spied a few of the more homely structures occupied, faint fires burning behind the curtains. But as he started to look at them, and the peeking occupants found therein, they snapped the curtains back shut as if trying to ward them away. Quentin thought it was a nice touch.:: Collins: I’m guessing it isn’t just Propescu that’s scared… ::Almost as if on cue, a wicked crack of lightning split the darkness of the sky, casting a pallid shadow over the village momentarily. Quentin’s skin goose-pimpled instantly and another grin split his lips.:: ((Short timeskip)) ::The jangle of tack and the clopping of horses’ hooves announced to Kayla and Quentin that their ride had arrived. Turning, Kayla caught her first glimpse of the driver. He wore a billowing rough (but immaculately white) linen shirt, laced up the front instead of buttons for closures. On his legs he wore deerskin trousers tucked into his tall boots, and atop his head sat a very wide-brimmed hat. All-in-all, she assessed him to be an experienced and capable coachman.:: ::When the cart stopped only about a dozen feet from where the pair of scientists stood, the pair of horses motionless - eyeing the strangers, the coachman leapt nimbly from his seat, somehow missing the several mud puddles in the road. He had covered the distance in a trice, greeting them and offering his assistance.:: Coachman: Welcome. My old friend Propescu tell me you are in need of transport to the castle. We must go quickly or not at all. I will not journey after nightfall. Drex: Why’s that? Coachman: There are wolves in the area … and worse. ::A beat passed while he considered the “worse,” but he did not elaborate. Instead, he shook himself and asked after any luggage they had and needed his help with. As neither Kayla nor Quentin had any, they were helped aboard the carriage, and the coachman whipped the horses into a brisk trot. In what felt like seconds, the tiny town was little more than a barely-distinguishable smudge in the otherwise unbroken landscape - impossible to spot unless you knew where to look.:: Drex: ::to the coachman:: How far is it to the castle? Coachman: Approximately 4 hours’ at a gentle pace for the horses. Today we go a bit faster. I do not wish to be travelling late, though tonight I think it may be safer than other nights. Drex: Why’s that? ::It took the driver a full minute to respond to this. Kayla wasn’t sure if he was trying to formulate a response, overcoming the language barrier, or hiding something. When he finally spoke, it did nothing to assuage these fears.:: Coachman: The dangers will be preoccupied. ::Quentin almost blanched at the comment. At first he was completely delighted by the off putting old-world detailing of the simulation. The mysticism, the ritual of it. It was some of the same things that drew him to his hometown’s lore. But then the odder instances started to bug him. And in the sort of anxiety inducing way, not into the “solve this puzzle” sort of way. In the time it took them to hitch up to this coach and travel a ways, Quentin Collins decided he was going to start taking this seriously. Not that he wasn’t before mind you, since this was a dear and thoughtful gift from an even dearer and even more thoughtful friend. But even she seemed like something was off. And when the two of them worked a problem, the cosmos itself would reveal its secrets. He shifted across to Kayla’s seat, finally able to see the Coachman a bit. Raising his voice above the thundering hooves of the horses, he started prodding.:: Collins: What could possibly preoccupy danger? Coachman: I’m afraid I do not understand. Collins: You said they would be preoccupied, what could occupy dangers? Something even more dangerous perhaps? ::a Sudden icy burst of wind shot through the carriage windows, catching Quentin right through the arms, where his topcoat sleeve met his vest. It chilled him to the bone, so much so he automatically tightened his leather gloves at the wrist. An ancient physical tic from back in Maine. Gazing out of the window at the rushing, seemingly endless woods whizzing past them along the path. He blinked against the biting wind. The dark seemed to...blink back. Dozens of blazing red eyes bared themselves through the woods. He blinked again and they remained. He felt his throat start to dry.:: Collins: Kay...did you program this? Drex: Sort of? ::She wasn’t trying to be cryptic. It was the truth. She’d only programmed the parameters and constraints of the characters and environment of the simulation. After that, she let the AI drive the particulars. Not wanting to betray her own unease to Quentin, she shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant way.:: Drex: I’m sure it’ll be fine. The safety protocols are in place. ::Still, the binaural tones (now completely forgotten consciously and no longer recognized by either of them) continued entwining their way into the minds of both Kayla and Quentin. The chill blast through the carriage window was accompanied by a shift in tone. The shift in tone was accompanied by a sensation deep in the most primitive corners of Kayla’s mind. There was a predator nearby, and her very survival depended on her staying alert.:: ((timeskip - 2 hours later)) ::The carriage came to a fairly abrupt halt in front of the massive, iron-banded, oaken-timber double doors as though the horses were loathe to stop moving. Even at a halt, they stamped their hooves and champed their bits, anxious to be moving away. The coachman leapt from his perch almost before the carriage had stopped moving, and was now holding the door open. It was less a gesture of civility than it was an unspoken plea for a quick exit. The two obliged, though something in them said it was the opposite direction they ought to be moving - back toward the town.:: Coachman: ::driving away as soon as he was back in the seat:: Fare well. I will say a prayer for you both. ::Before they could answer, the coach had rattled away at a gallop, and was now out of the reach of their voices.:: Drex: Well that was ominous. ::Quentin gave a snorting guffaw at Kayla’s stating of the obvious. He pulled his topcoat tighter around them as more wind howled through the trees and cobblestones of door stop they now stood upon. The stones looked impossibly old, matching the immaculately shone wood of the doors, which somehow looked older still. Quentin’s mind flashed quickly to The Old House, tucked away in the rising vines and brambles of the Collins Estate. That house scared him then and this one scared him now. Gooseflesh pimpled on the back of his neck. As if someone...or something was watching them.:: Collins: Oh REALLY? Whatever gave you that idea? Now what? Drex: ::shrugging:: Shall we knock? ::It was of course, rhetorical. Kayla steeled her resolve fighting down the irrational urge to run after the carriage, and knocked three times loudly on the front door. They waited for an answer for a full minute before knocking again. Still no answer. Quentin tried then, pounding on the door as the fear of what it would mean to be locked out in the open at night settled into Kayla’s heart, chilling her to the bone.:: ::As the sun sank below the crest of the western mountain ridge, the pair heard a heavy scraping sound from within - as though a great bolt were being drawn. Following that was the groaning creak of the massive hinges were brought into service. The ground around them was suddenly flooded with quavering yellow light from a candelabra held in the left hand of the tall man who had opened the door. The light was such a welcome sight to Kayla that she rushed forward toward it as though she were a moth.:: ???: Good evening. I apologize for the delay. My … staff is otherwise detained. I am your host. Please do enter my home. ::Quentin carefully followed Kayla and their new host into the cavernous hall. It looked to be the height of opulence, if the whole hall wasn’t covered in thick, milky cobwebs. Quentin almost had to step around them as to not be tangled in them. Their host seemed to float through them with ease though, still holding aloft the ornate golden candelabra. As the light bathed them all, he got a closer look at the man’s clothing. Which was a perfectly put together old style tuxedo, adorned with a lavish, possibly silken cape clasped with a heavy jeweled clasp. But there was something about his eyes. Though his demeanor seemed warm and inviting, his eyes reflected...none of that. Instead they looked empty, vacuous...hungry almost. Quentin tried to shake away the feeling, clearing his throat and finally speaking.:: Collins: T-Thank you for your hospitality… ???: It is my pleasure, I assure you. You have no doubt ascertained that I am the lord of this house. I am Dracula. ::not hesitating:: Please, my friends, leave any baggage you may have here, and it will be attended to. You must be hungry after your journey? ::In response to this suggestion, Kayla’s stomach made a sound somewhere between a cranky weasel and an annoyed stock investor. She looked briefly to Collins, then to their host.:: Drex: I am actually. Dracula: Then let us not waste another moment. You will I pray, forgive me for not dining with you, but I have supped already, having business to attend to this evening. ::The elegant man led them to a long room off the main foyer (if in fact it could be called that - the proportions put some cathedrals to shame), where a banquet table lay waiting for them. Two places were lavishly set with covered dishes. These, their host lifted by his own hand, revealing a sumptuous feast of roasted meats, root vegetables, and a steaming soup that looked deeper and richer than anything Kayla had ever eaten. Her stomach gave another excited “gruggle” at the sight of it all.:: Dracula: ::beckoning with a long-fingered hand for them to take the prepared seats:: Please come and eat to your hearts’ content. I will return when you have finished and show you to your rooms. ::And with that, the Count swept from the room, leaving Kayla and Quentin to the meal before them. She was famished, but Kayla hesitated, looking at her friend. Her conscious mind knew she was in the holodeck - that none of this was real, but the primitive parts of her brain were screaming at her. Some yet unforeseen danger or threat lurked within these walls. It couldn’t be the food though, right?:: Drex: What do you think? Shall we eat? ::Quentin gave a hearty exhale of breath and picked up a yeasty and somehow still warm roll from the sumptuous spread.:: Collins: I suppose we have to, right? ::Even though his mind told him that the only thing he was holding was a lovingly created patch of photons, the warmth and smell wafting off of it told another, more vivid story. It was almost intoxicating. He was about to give up the ghost and take a bite when he saw something else even more intoxicating. In an entirely different way. In the darkness of a room housed in the balcony above he saw three sets of gleaming, dreamy eyes. One a deep blue. The other a warm hazel. The last a glittering emerald. He started to open his mouth to speak, but he was...moving somehow. Floating almost, just above the dusty stonework of the flooring. As he got closer (though through no real will of his own), more and more smells replaced the musty odor of the main hall. Lilac, jazmine, and rosemary. He didn’t even notice when he crossed the threshold into the darkened room. He started to turn, seeing Kayla still standing a level below. He opened his mouth to speak but the door slammed shut before he could. Six strong hands then grabbed him roughly, pulling him into the void.:: ::Kayla panicked. Quentin had just been … abducted? Captured? At any rate, she didn’t like to think what those three had ultimately in mind for her friend. She scanned the table in a fevered attempt to find something that could be used as a weapon. ::Grabbing a long, thin-bladed carving knife, she sprang from the table and sprinted in the direction her friend had been dragged.:: Drex: QUENTIN! ::Her voice broke as she called out over and over. There was no sound for what seemed to her an eternity, but which was in reality, merely five seconds. At the far end of the dimly-lit hallway, Kayla heard the soft click of an old door latch catching. Without thinking, she turned and ran, gathering up her skirts as she went so she wouldn’t trip. ::When she reached the door, she grabbed at the handle. It was either stuck or locked. She banged on the heavy door with the butt of the knife, screaming for the door to be opened. She stopped abruptly though, when is swung smoothly on its hinge. ::What was even more alarming was the room she now saw. It was completely empty. She took one tentative step into the dark and drafty room. The gauzy curtains swayed gently in the draft from the partially opened window. This was the only movement in the room. Other than the dark, undulating fabric, the room seemed to resent her mobility. ::Thoughts of her friends peril tried to push their way into her mind, but Kayla was powerless to look away from the curtains … the Count. Had he been standing by the window the whole time? She didn’t remember seeing him when she first opened the door to the room.:: Dracula: I trust you … dined well? Drex: ::dreamily:: Quite well. Thank you. ::The count moved smoothly - so smoothly in fact, it could have been called a glide - toward the young blonde woman.:: Dracula: That is good. It would not do to have you … malnourished. Drex: ::Her head swimming:: You’re too kind. ::A yell from somewhere else in the castle snapped Kayla back to herself as effectively as a bucket of ice water. Before her still stood the striking form of her host, but now she was aware of the immediacy of the danger. She struck out with the knife still in her hand, but hit nothing but air. Smoke? Where the Count had been an instant before was now an already-dissipating cloud of black smoke. Kayla didn’t need to think twice. She turned on her heel and ran toward the sound of Collins’ voice.:: ::Quentin wasn’t sure how much time had passed. An hour? A day? A week? There was only the women and the sickly sweet taste of their lips upon his. Though he was dragged into the darkness, soon the antechamber was bathed in an amber-gris glow. A glow that had eliminated from the lit braziers that lined the stone walls. The smell of fresh earth also cut through the intoxicating scents of the women. But it didn’t jibe the visuals of the chamber, which suggested that they were at least a few stories up. At least that’s what the gleaming moonbeams and pockmarked starry sky provided in evidence. As soon as he started to think about it, however, more lips were on his again, tossing his mind back down the dark well of passion. One that he assumed had been paved over long ago. The women seemed to speak with one voice, vibrating through his mind like a psychic drawl.:: The Brides: Do you desire, Quentin Collins? ::He was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t spoken to them. Hell, he barely had a chance to speak. But his voice was parched with the earthy smell. Lips chapped with...repeated contact.:: Collins: I...w-what’s happening? ::He was turned again, peering directly into the eyes of the amber haired woman, who seemed to be their...leader? Or at least the center of the triumvirate.:: The Brides: Do you ache, Quentin Collins? ::Sudden cold bit through his now lessened layers. Somehow his topcoat and cravat had been shed and now his sleeves hung open, as well as his vest. He tried to button it back but it appeared that the buttons had been torn away. How? And Why?:: Collins: I can’t….why can’t I feel my hands? ::He looked down, his fingertips were starting to turn blue and as sort of streaky liquid dripped from one...drip drip dropping...onto the stone floor. Which was at least twelve feet above him. He was free-floating, hands still exploring his body lewdly and in a way that made him increasingly uncomfortable.:: The Brides: We can make you feel, Quentin Collins. Feel everything and nothing. Far more than the seer you pine for. Collins: What are you- ::He finally blinked hard and saw the liquid for what it actually was. Blood. HIS blood. Dripping from various punctures from around his arm...and neck...and chest. He looked up again and finally saw the women for what they really were. Monsters, with fangs bared, swimming amid gauzey, dusty nightclothes. Someone was screaming and Quentin thought it might have been him, but he couldn’t be sure. His head swam with the bloodloss and his sudden, hard drop to the stones below. The now hissing women whirled in mid-air about to bare down on him. Had it not been for the sudden entrance of the equally harried Kayla Drex, they would have surely swept him up again. She turned a confused eye to the floating women and back to him.:: Drex: WHAT THE F- Collins: I DON’T KNOW! ::He quickly snatched one of the braziers off the wall and started to wield it drunkenly at the still advancing women.:: Collins: I t-think I’ve had enough fun for one night, haven’t you? Drex: ::holding the carving knife out toward the three “women”:: Absolutely. Let’s get the heck out of here. ::They backed out of the room. It didn’t appear as though the women had followed - at least not as far as Kayla could see. There was no one chasing them through the halls of Castle Dracula, but each and every door they passed (and there were many in the ancient house) blew open as if some unseen pursuer was in an adjoining hall, and repeatedly wrenched door after door open, hoping to be just one step ahead.:: ::Kayla and Quentin at last, in a flop sweat and both panting hard, gained the open air of the main foyer. This place, with its grand sweeping staircase had seemed so grand and rich. Now it felt cold, abandoned, dangerous - a trap now seen. Carefully but swift as hares, the duo raced down the stairs. Kayla felt certain more than once she was going to tread on her damnable period-accurate skirts and break her neck falling down the hewn stone staircase. Thankfully, she and Quentin reached the floor level, and flew to the foreboding oak doors.:: Drex: ::panting:: Help me open the door. It’s too heavy for just one of us to open. ::Collins positioned himself in a way that allowed Kayla to grab hold of the wrought iron handle while he pulled against the frame. He gave a quick three-count, and they pulled. For an instant that felt like a lifetime, the door did not budge. Kayla’s heart sank, but then soared when the oaken barrier yielded to their efforts. They widened the opening just large enough for them to slip through, and ran with all their might.:: ::She never could say afterwards what compelled her to look back as they ran, but what she saw would haunt her dreams for some time to come. The Count, robed in a black travelling cloak came after them. In her haste, she couldn’t be certain, but at the moment she would have sworn he was … FLYING. His bat-like shape moved smoothly and swiftly toward them, narrowing the distance between him and the two humans.:: ::Kayla’s foot was suddenly soaked, and she felt her ankle roll as the ridiculously impractical shoes she wore slipped on the river rock. She cried out in pain, but the primary thought in her mind was that her foot was wet.:: Drex: Quen! We’re in a stream! Collins: ::pulling up short:: What? Yeah, I guess so. Let’s go! Drex: I can’t run, Quen, my ankle. We have to get to the other side of the stream. Collins: Why the stream? ::Then the penny dropped. In his terror, he had forgotten everything he’d known about vampire lore. They had to stop and count small items thrown in their path. They had no reflections. THEY COULDN’T CROSS RUNNING WATER!:: Collins: Kay, you’re a genius! Drex: Stow that, sailor; help me get across! ::He jerked back to his senses and draped one of Kayla’s arms over his shoulders. He helped (half-carried) her to the far side of the stream, where they collapsed, feeling safe for the first time in what felt like years. On the far side of the water, they saw the shape of Dracula darting upstream and down, looking for a way to cross … but he was trapped. They truly were safe - at least for a while.:: Collins: You bloody genius, Kay. Drex: … Oh for crying out LOUD! Collins: ::confused:: What? What’d I say? Drex: I’m no genius! I’m a freaking MORON! Collins: What are you talking about? Drex: I just remembered something else. ::Collins just looked at her, waiting for the revelation.:: Drex: Computer, end program. ::The countryside vanished, to be replaced by the yellow grid on sterile black.:: Drex: We were in the holodeck the whole time. ::blushing:: Maybe I overdid it a bit with the binaural waves. I was completely sure it was all real. Collins: … me too Drex: I won’t tell anybody if you don’t? Collins: Deal. Drex: Happy birthday, Quen. Now can you help me get to sickbay? I think I sprained my ankle in these ridiculous boots. END ((OOC - Thanks for reading! We really hope you enjoyed it. Happy Halloween, everyone!)) Lt Kayla Drex CSO, USS Eagle E239510KD0 ~ and ~ LT jg. QUENTIN COLLINS III SCIENCE OFFICER U.S.S. EAGLE NCC-74659 E239512QC0

((Officer’s Quarters, Deck 4 - USS Juneau)) @GhantXerix approached his assigned quarters at a slow and methodical pace. With one hand, he was balancing a tray of food, and with the other he was dragging a suitcase which bore the scars of mistreatment at the hands of a brute. At his approach, the doors should have opened. But the Juneau was quickly proving that should means little on a brand new vessel. He used his knee to hit the door chime, and before the doors could part he let out a groan of disappointment upon recognizing the mind behind the door. Xerix: ::dryly:: Good evening, Commander. @Geoffrey Teller smirked as he turned away from the door controls and went back to the lone chair in the mostly featureless room. One wall was dominated by a pair of bunks, a design not much changed in decades and meant for the most spartan of quarters. The other wall featured a fold out chair and desk console for getting a bit of work done, but anyone attempting to dismount the beds would either need to be a qualified gymnast or on very intimate terms with the person sitting down. Teller: Evening there Lieutenant. Xerix: I realize this is a skeleton crew, but man the odds were not in my favor for bunkies Teller: Same here….I’ve been busy in the Engineering bay and didn’t get myself to the quartermaster till almost all the bunk assignments were taken up. Have to say, surprised you’re sleeping alone. Who’d you piss off this time? Teller didn’t have to be an empath to see that he’d struck a nerve. Ghant said nothing to that, sitting down on the floor with his tray of food, appetite suddenly missing. Teller: So how is the Celestial, by the by? Be happy to give it another tuneup in my free time. Xerix: ::Suddenly thrilled with an idea, he ate as he spoke :: Oh it’s fine. I’ve installed a new lock on the hatch and the sound emitter is smashed up beautifully Teller: Oh the speakers? For the shanties? ::Teller chuckled to himself:: Forgot about that one. Guess that means the other thing...well, I’m sure you’ll find it soon enough. Ghant gestured with his fork like it was a weapon, pointing a bite of food at the enemy. Xerix: So help me, Teller. If you’ve messed with my ship again... Teller held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Teller: Look, the fact of the matter is we’ve got to work together or this closet :Teller extended his arms and was able to touch both walls easily:: will feel even more cramped. So I say truce - we got off on the wrong foot, lets try to put it behind us, at least until this project is wrapped up and we’re both a few lighyears away from one another. Xerix: ..Fine. Truce it is….How’s the Veritas gang? Teller: Good by and large - been a busy few months. How about your new crew? Gorkon’s certainly a pretty ship. Xerix: It’s a great ship...I’ve had a bit of a hard time adjusting to be honest. Geoff gasped in feigned shock. Teller: You? ::He smirked:: But you make friends so easily? Xerix: ::He looked pointedly at the engineer:: I thought a truce meant we stop taking shots at one another. Teller: Sorry sorry, force of habit - last one I swear. Seriously, you always struck me as a competent enough officer - what’s tripping you out? Captain over there have a weird pet or something? Xerix: She has a few. But it’s me, honestly. At the academy and even on the Veritas, I felt like the big boat in the harbor. On the Gorkon, they make certain I know my place. It’s caused me to behave in ways I’m not proud of. Ghant pushed the tray of food away from him, suddenly uninterested in eating. Teller: Well, that’s one good thing at least. Xerix: What is? Teller: You’re thinking about whatever it was you did. Fair few people I know don’t think you’re capable of that. Might be a sign of maturity if you’re not careful. Xerix: Four forbid it. Do you think this ship is going to hold up long enough for it to matter? Teller: Pfft ::Teller rapped the wall with his fist:: I think I can keep the nacelles attached if you don’t bounce us off a planet. Xerix: I doubt I’ll have the opportunity. Tiria Hamasaki seems firmly attached to that helm console. :: He stood and stretched:: I think I’m going to call it a night. Which bed is mine? Teller: Why don’t you take the top, I’ve got a little work left to do before I stretch out. I’ll try to keep the noise to a minimum. Xerix: You sure? I could give you a boost if you need? Teller snorted and rolled his eyes. Teller: If you’re bored up on the bridge I could use someone down in Engineering to help me reach the top shelves. Xerix: I’ll check my schedule. Gnight, dude. Teller: Nighto. Ghant made his way into the top bunk and pulled the privacy partition closed. Teller smiled and went back to his PADDwork, absentmindedly humming a few bars of Roll The Old Chariot Along. Within a few moments, he was tapping his foot on the deck as well. Xerix: As much as you know I love a good musical performance, might be we call an intermission until another time? Teller: Huh? ::Teller looked up with a smile:: Oh sure buddy, sure. Have a pleasant rest. Within a few minutes, the tight quarters were filled with two sounds. The tapping of a jaunty beat on a PADD, and the grinding of Ghant Xerix’s teeth. ((The next morning- zero four thirty)) Ghant woke early, early enough to hear Geoff still snoring underneath him. He rose quietly and dressed, then gathered his belongings, and Teller’s. He schlepped them all down to the unfinished cabin at the end of the corridor, where he had left one space suit the night before . He brought the suit back to the cabin where he was pleased to see his bunk mate still firmly unconscious. Leaving the suit in easy access, he placed a Betazoid chameleon rose next to it. Then he walked smugly towards the mess hall. Coffee and donuts were needed on this morning. =============================== Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller Chief Engineer USS Juneau - NX-99801 Captain Oddas A., Commanding V239509GT0 & Lieutenant JG Ghant Xerix Helm officer USS Juneau V239505GX0

[Insert ‘Pink Panther’ theme here] ((Apartment Block, Deck 801, Habitat Zone, Starbase 118)) The three Officers had mostly avoided contact with each other since arriving back at the base, apart from Lt. Cmdr. Hael’s party - which it would have been odd for them to not attend, or to be seen to be avoiding each other all evening. Now though, after finding out the location of Londonderry’s apartment, Gogi had called Malko and Dante and arranged to meet with them outside the block. It was, of course, an unassuming apartment block, one of the many apartment blocks that had been constructed to house Starbase 118’s many, many residents, in the uniform style that they had all been built in. A smooth white building, with nondescript, square windows on each of its several floors. Gogi’s access code had gotten them into the building and up to the 7th floor in the elevator, but as they stepped out onto the landing, their eyes were immediately drawn to the Starfleet Security Officer standing to attention outside apartment number 66. The stocky Bardeezan FO did not recognize the young, light-brown-haired, fresh-faced, Terran-looking man guarding Londonderry’s apartment and nor did he know of any order that had come from Captain Taybrim that the apartment should be guarded. Okay, he didn’t know absolutely everything that the Fleet Captain did, but he guessed he would have heard of something like this. Dante and Malko exchanged a meaningful glance of worry before Gogi frowned deeply as he cracked his knuckles and began to stride up to the guard. Malko and Dante followed, all three of them dressed in their duty uniforms. Fairhug: ::approaching the young man:: Good day to you…::making a show of looking at his pips::...Ensign…? The Ensign’s eyes widened as he took note of three senior officers suddenly standing in front of him. One dressed in a Medical uniform, one a Diplomat and this third, relatively short Officer with the long ginger hair was dressed in a Command uniform with Lt. Cmdr. Pips. Matterface: ::stuttering slightly:: M..Matterface, Sir. Ensign Matterface. Fairhug: Good day, Ensign Matterface. My colleagues and I require access to this apartment. Malko: Thank you for standing watch, who knows what ne'er-do-wells could have been coming around to stick their nose in. Termine: We’ll make sure to inform your superior of your exemplary conduct. :: Dante flipped through a PADD. In reality it just had economic data of the sector, but he knew that seeming like you knew more that you did was often an effective bargaining tool :: Matterface: I...I’m sorry, Sirs, the access has been limited to priority Alpha One. The lines on Gogi’s weather-beaten brow grew even deeper, if that was at all possible, like the grooves of long-dried river beds in a dessert. Fairhug: By whom? Matterface: I...I can’t say, Sir. Malko shared a knowing look with the others - Alpha One? That seems like overkill for an engineer’s quarters. Something wasn’t sitting right with the counsellor. Dante stepped forward, if there was one thing he DID know, it was starfleet code and regulation. Termine: I admire your diligence Ensign, but Priority Alpha One security protocol can only be exercised in starfleet internal security matters. Although it will barr most non-briefed personnel... Without missing a beat Malko stepped in. Malko: Surely that doesn’t apply to the investigating officers... The young Ensign’s eyes were darting between the Officers as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. He was rattled. Matterface: I’m s...sorry, Sirs. I’ve been given orders. Gogi stepped closer to the man, reaching up to put a calming hand on his shoulder. Dante looked down at his Padd again, presenting a face of irritation. If Malko was going to play the good cop, Dante was going to play bad. Fairhug: Okay, Ensign. It’s okay. The young man tried to calm his breathing. Fairhug: How long have you been on Starbase 118, Mister Matterface? Matterface: This is my third week, Sir. Fairhug: ::nodding knowingly:: Alright. Listen. I am Lieutenant Commander Fairhug, former Chief of Security of the Embassy of Duronis II, former Commanding Officer of the Iron Jaegers and current First Officer of this Starbase. Gogi was never one to pull rank or blow his own trumpet, usually, but occasionally, the situation called for it - and this was one of those situations. Malko held the elevator so no one could enter the floor as Gogi launched into his monologue. Fairhug: Now, I understand that you have been given orders and that you want to be seen to be obeying those orders. That’s a good thing. But let me ask you this; as First Officer of this very Starbase, do you think I would report you for allowing me to do my job? The Ensign’s expression changed to one of confusion, his eyebrows almost knitting together. Matterface: N...No, Sir…? Fairhug: Of course I wouldn’t! Gogi let out a hearty laugh, turning to Dante and Malko, to indicate for them to follow suit. Then he turned back to Ensign Matterface, his expression much more serious again, one of almost parental concern. Fairhug: But...might I report you for obstructing me from doing my job? Malko: It would be your obligation, I’d say. Your hands would be tied. :: to the Ensign :: He’s even reported me before. Termine: :: Dante tapped on his pad a few times before leaning into Gogi’s ear but speaking just loud enough for all to hear:: Need I remind you sir about your upcoming appointment? The ambassador would be insulted if we were late. Once again, Matterface’s eyes began to dart between the Officers. The boy looked like his mind had imploded with the difficulty of making this decision. Fairhug: Okay, let me make this easy for you, Ensign. Stand aside and let me and my colleagues here do what we have to do and nothing more will come of this...little incident. Gogi’s hand had been rested on Matterface’s shoulder this whole time, now he patted the man’s uniform, brushing some dust off of it. Fairhug: How does that sound? The young Officer, who had been standing at attention this entire time, let out a sigh and relaxed his posture. Matterface: Yes, Sir. I understand. Fairhug: ::patting the Ensign’s shoulder again:: You’re doing the right thing, Ensign. He turned to Malko and Dante and indicated with his head. Matterface stepped aside and they made their way into the apartment. Gogi poked his head round the doorframe one last time as he entered. Fairhug: Mister Matterface, inform us immediately if anybody else approaches. Matterface: ::snapping to attention again:: Aye, aye, Commander. ((PO3 Rickard Londonderry’s Apartment, Deck 801, Starbase 118)) Termine: Nicely handled, but how could security be here already, and with such a high clearance level! I’m starting to think we’re not the only ones on the same trail. Gogi huffed through his nose. The Starfleet cover-up was already in full motion. Fairhug: Probably just some Admiral at Command making sure Londonderry’s myth is preserved. Malko: Myth of being loyal? Termine: We can look into who might have placed that order later, Malko and I can give face-of-the-matter back there a debriefing if it comes to it, but let's stay focused and search this room while we can. We might not have much time. Fairhug: Agreed. The three officers started to pace around the room. The quarters were small and sparse with only minimal personalization. This wasn’t uncommon amongst junior officers but something about it felt… off. Gogi looked around, immediately dismayed by the lack of potential evidence, but then, if someone had gotten there first, it was hardly surprising that the apartment had been “sterilised”. Malko: No garbage, no laundry, no spoiled food. After a good long while of searching Malko checked amongst every fold in the closet and Gogi opened every drawer Dante stood staring up at the ceiling. Malko: There’s almost no evidence that Londonderry even lived here anymore. It’s all been passed over. The Bardeezan looked up, unsure of what Dante was so transfixed by. Fairhug: Something caught your eye, Dante? Termine: ...Wha? Oh... No it’s just that… Do you see those bolts holding that ventilation cover on? Malko: With enough force you can open those with a letter opener if you really need to… Just saying… Fairhug: Okay... Termine: They’re wrong. Fairhug: Wrong? Malko: ::quietly:: Not that I’ve had to... Termine: I mean, they’re wrong. It’s only something a refurb crew would notice but those bolts up there… They should be self-sealing stem bolts but they’re not. They’re regular bolts that seem to have been made up to look sealed. Malko: Prophets - you’re right. They’re smaller. Fairhug: What do you think that means? Termine: well, it either means that there were supply issues during this room’s construction or… Somebody has used a blast torch to cut through the original bolts and put their own in so that they could open that cover without any trouble. Malko: Actually that sounds much easier than bending your good letter opener. Gogi stroked his beard in thought as he looked around. The only furniture in the room was bolted down and of course, none of it was near the ventilation cover. Fairhug: Okay, ::he looked at Dante, who stood a foot taller than him:: Dante, you’re the tallest, Malko… He made a gesture with his arm for the Counsellor to follow his lead as he crouched down to get on all fours. Malko: Careful now, Termine. Dante wobbled as he slowly rose into the air, supported on the backs of Malko and Gogi - the human pyramid swayed and lurched. Slowly, Dante brought his hand up to the vent covering having to stretch considerably to reach and began to pry at the bolts holding the panel on. Much to his surprise the panel, bolts and all, came crashing down on him just as he came crashing down on his friends. Rolling away from the heap onto his back, Gogi almost wanted to laugh. Maybe he would have under different circumstances. They must have looked quite the sight. Fairhug: ::standing up, brushing off his uniform:: Well, I hope that was worth it. Malko: And I hope nobody heard the raucous. Termine: Not elegant - but it worked and… what do we have here! Clipped into the back of the vent cover was a small silver tube, less than the length of a PADD stylus, with a blinking red light on it’s end and a single indent on it’s length. Fairhug: Some kind of tracking device...or… Malko: ...beacon. The Counsellor had taken the words out of his mouth. If it was a transponder, evidently whoever had been here before them had not been aware of its presence, as surely they would have removed it. Fairhug: There’s one way to find out, can we activate it? Malko: It looks to me like it’s already been activated... TBC As simmed by Lieutenant Commander Gogigobo Fairhug First Officer Starbase 118 Ops. E239411GF0 And LTJG Malko Counsellor Starbase 118 Ops A239508M10 And Lt. JG Dante Termine Diplomatic Corps, Starbase 118 A239503DT0

So, below is actually two related sims. I really appreciated the humour and creativity in this scene. Something I definitely did not expect to read but thoroughly enjoyed. I hope y'all do too. Edited to add a third sim, another in the ongoing, hilarious take of nurse vs snappy toy dog Edited to add a fourth instalment that contains a pretty nifty twist. Didn't see that coming but it was pretty good!

Absolutely love the feigning the character does! Great job @Kiliak Jo ((en route to Deep Space 26, low orbit over Paldor II)) Absentmindedly ignoring the pratter of the jarheads and sacrificial security drones crowding the small shuttle space, Perkins set his finely-tuned wonder of a mind to the task at hand. How was he going to singlehandedly rescue this station and the planet below from imminent disaster? The uncooperative nature of the Atlantis company of misfits only made clear his burden as the lone champion called to serve in this dark hour. He stared out the window and mused, clasping his hands together wisely, bringing the tips of his index fingers together just beneath his nose to indicate his status of deep contemplation. Just as he was gathering together the last details of a perfect plan, he was snapped from this reverie at the mention of weapons fire. Serala: Remember, check your fire this is a high collateral engagement zone. If it's not shooting at you, don't shoot at it. Not without confirmation. Perkins: Yes, please double-check your "trigger happiness." I have many friends here. They soon disembarked the shuttle and boarded the station. At the sight of the familiar Chon architecture, Perkins felt overwhelmed with relief to finally be back home, at last, he had escaped from the clutches of these Atlantean nincompoops. Though it was true that they desperately needed his help, he would not go back if they dragged him kicking and screaming. Solana: Contact, four o'clock. Looks like a dozen all scrambling to get those support craft off the deck. I don't see any Valcarians. oO These idiots can't even keep proper time! It's still morning by the standard Federation clock. Simply unbelievable. Oo Kiax: I wouldn’t be surprised if they were controlling more critical areas of the station. Operations, Engineering, Fusion Cores, Auxiliary Fire Control, Central Damage Control… With direct access to the computer core I can probably get us a significant foothold. Perkins: That can be arranged. I can direct you through some of the more basic processes, get you a username and a password, before we ultimately get to the more complex stuff at which point I will naturally take- Calasio: =/\= Welcome to the newly acquired Imperial Relief Station Alpha-One. =/\= oO Excuse me? Oo Kiax: =/\= You mean the Federation Starbase Deep Space Twenty-Six? =/\= oO Hmpfh. Indeed. Oo Calasio: =/\= I wish to speak to the one in charge of your team. =/\= Perkins: =/\= Yes of course, I am-- =/\= Serala: =/\= This is Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis. I am in command of this team. =/\= oO Rude! Fine. I'll let her believe she's in charge if its so important to her. Oo Calasio: =/\= This is Commander Yanek Calasio of the Imperial Navy. I am sure you are aware of the situation we all find ourselves in. I wish to make an arrangement. =/\= Serala: =/\= Well, Commander. I’m actually not fully aware of the situation. I know this station is plummeting to the planet below it and unless we can find a way to stop it, everyone onboard, not to mention millions on the planet, will be killed. But I have no idea what has been happening here for the last several months. Without a debriefing, I am afraid I am at a disadvantage in any sort of bargaining or decisions to make agreements. Of course, we did bring a substantial combat force and I would image that some of the Starfleet personnel that didn’t make it off are still here somewhere. I could always fight my way to them, join forces, then retake the station from you. =/\= Calasio: =/\= Now, Commander...you are in no real position to do anything but listen to me. You have just arrived. I have been here for weeks. Do you really think we have not created a battlefield prepared to our advantage? I assure you this is not a fight you want to wage. The station is already falling apart. On top of that, we've rigged bulkheads with explosives, set snares throughout the access tubes, prepared tricks and traps level by level. I've read up on your ship, the Atlantis. I know your Captain Brell is a man of peace. Of discourse. He would listen. I suggest you do the same... =/\= Perkins: =/\= Ha! Brell isn't even- =/\= Serala: =/\= Captain Brell is not here. I am. And I do things my way. I will answer to Captain Brell later, if needs be. If he wanted a peaceful resolution, he should have come himself instead of sending his Chief Security and Tactical Officer. =/\= oO Ahh ha, I see. The Romulan wants to keep my presence here covert, her secret Ace in the Hole. The Ringer. The Showstopper. Got it. All right, okay, I'll play along with your little gambit, Miss Siracha. Oo Serala: =/\= Still, there is something to be said for a peaceful solution. Fighting our way through could be costly. You haven’t held your position as long as you have by being unprepared. So, what is your proposal. =/\= Calasio: =/\= It’s quite simple, really. This station is plummeting to its doom. We have seized control of this station at quite at high cost and have no intention of losing it now. I propose to allow you and your ship to assist with evacuating all non-Valcarian personnel from the station. You can use this landing bay for those purposes. We will also coordinate with Atlantis to find a way to stop the station from hitting the planet below, possibly even relocate away from the planet a distance. Once everyone is cleared out and the station is safe, we will take full control of the station and the space around it. Assuming the station doesn’t get destroyed before then, I estimate you should be able to get everyone off in about 36 hours time. Anyone remaining onboard after that forfeits their life and will become subjects of the Empire. =/\= Perkins mind began to wander. oO Say, where did that infernal marine with the attitude problem get off to? Oo Serala: =/\= A very well thought out request, Commander. I have a request of my own first. I need to speak to the Starfleet Officer in charge here on the station. I need to get a sitrep before I can make any decisions which might affect them. I am sure you can understand that? =/\= Calasio: =/\= Your request is understandable, Commander. However, we have no direct communications established with the Starfleet personnel. In fact, station communications are down, which is why I have had to rig this form of communication for us. Still, I will try to get a message through and have them come down to you. =/\= Siracha spoke quietly into her commset, then pointed now to another marine, the big one who had yelled at the problematic one earlier. Perkins didn't understand why she was pointing. Was his fly unzipped or something? He held up his hands to indicate the ineffectiveness of her communication. She pointed again, more pointedly, as the others gathered behind the marine. Perkins narrowed his eyes. Did she want him to keep an eye on this goon to make sure he didn't shoot any bystanders? Yes, that must be it. Good call. Perkins tailed the big monkey, ready to disarm him in a flash if the day's duties came to that. Serala: =/\= Commander Perkins. You know this station better than anyone here. I want you on lead. Get us to Operations. We’re taking that back one way or another. That might give us a better position to bargain from. =/\= Perkins: =/\= Ah, I see. Of course, of course. I will lead the way. ::pushing himself to the fore of the others:: Company, aa-t-tention! Follow me! And-a march one two hut one two, that's it, lively now! =/\= (( Short timeskip )) oO Wait. No, it's the other way. Oo Hardly his fault. He was only rarely down in these sections. He turned around and doubled back, offering the others his charming smile as they continued to follow his lead. This sublevel was really more of a Lieutenant Junior kind of working environment. And all these corridors look the same anyways. Soon they reached a corner, and Perkins was sure that this time it would lead them into Operations. Birmor: Halt. Who goes there? Serala: Lieutenant Commander Serala, Federation Starship Atlantis. Birmor: Sorry friend. This area is off limits to non Valcarians. Serala: We’re here with permission of Commander Calasio. Birmor: Really? Serala: We have some things to discuss and the form of communication we were using was insufficient. Since we’re here under a truce, perhaps you would be kind enough to escort us to him so we can speak in person? Birmor: Sorry Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis. Standing orders are to only allow Valcarians past this point. ::She made an obvious effort to look at the group of Starfleet Officers.:: And you don’t much look like Valcarians. Serala: And would he be less pleased if his favorite :: quickly checking her rank :: corporal failed to let us past and it resulted in a full-scale invasion from our ship? Just because of a misunderstanding? Wouldn’t it be better to take us to him and let him decide what to do with us? Birmor: Excuse me a moment. ::he momentarily vanished:: Perkins: Do you want me to talk to him? I'm great with people. Serala: Birmor: Well Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis, it seems you have been granted passage. oO Hmpfh! Could at least get her name right. I'll let it slide though, in the name of diplomacy. Oo Perkins: Took you long enough. Let's head out, troops. McKnight: Let's move. Serala / Toh’jak: Response Birmor: It was my absolute pleasure. Commander Calasio is down in the Engineering Section on Level 46. As this used to be your station, I’m sure you know the way. Perkins: Er, yes of course. That's, uhm, fastest way is those stairs back there, or...? Serala / Toh’jak: Response Out of nowhere, bolts of blaster fire. One blast struck Perkins right in his good shoulder. He went down, collapsing into a crumpled pile immediately, a tactic to shield himself from possible continued fire as his eyes wetted with sudden tears. McKnight: AMBUSH! oO Is this it? Am I going to die? Here? Just in my moment of liberation? Who will help all these people if I must perish now? Oo Birmor: STAND DOWN! CEASE FIRE. CEASE FIRE. Perkins: It's a trick! I'm hit! They shot me! Ambush! Betrayal! Shoot back, you worthless imbeciles! McKnight: Cease fire! Cease fire! Secure the area! Serala / Toh’jak: Response Clutching his wound, likely a mortal wound, Perkins heard a disembodied voice nearby. His vision was blurry. Was it... his father? The voice of God? McKnight: You alright, Commander? Perkins: I'm so sorry. ::coughing:: I don't know if I'll make it. You must go on... without me... ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Perkins Engineer at Large Deep Space 26 A239509KJ0 ---------------------------------------------- courtesy of ---------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Kiliak Jo Asst. Chief Engineer USS Atlantis A239509KJ0 -----------------------------------------------

((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

Just have to say, I think I speak for all of us Atlanteans when I say he's never been more deserving of a punch in the face. Or being beamed into space. Great job as always @Kiliak Jo ((ooc: I offered to write for the incomparable Mr. Perkins some months ago, so I figure I'm up. Uh, obviously I love you all, but I'm writing as Mr. Perkins below, so... rest assured it's all in good fun... I recommend you go easy on the tags ahead though, I'm not trying to upstage your mission with 'local knowledge' if you get my drift)) ((Guest Quarters, USS Atlantis)) Out the window of his cramped, temporary quarters, Lt. Commander Perkins stared at the broken shape of the place he called home and watched the flurry of frantic traffic buzzing away from it. He sipped his water, then shook his head and rubbed at his shoulder, rotating the cuff -- at times it still ached from the heroic shot he had suffered in the line of duty on that fateful day months ago. That nurse they employed on board, the insufferably bubbly Avy or whatever, kept saying she could find nothing wrong with it now, but what did that prove besides a distinct inability to do her job? Serala: =/\= Serala to Lieutenant Commander Perkins. Report to Main Shuttlebay on the double. And bring standard equipment for an away mission, including a Type II Phaser. We launch in 30 minutes. =/\= Perkins: =/\= I am at your service and so pleased to be invited. And I'm even to be allowed a phaser. Capital. =/\= It only further proved his case of how fundamentally lazy, how abundantly incompetent the Atlantis crew was that they could be expected to layabout for half an hour before embarking on such a crucial mission as saving his home station. He endeavored therefore to arrive in half the allotted time just to make a point, and of course, he succeeded. Perkins: First assigned to live under Romulan space and now here I am serving under a Romulan. Never thought I'd see the day, but life is full of surprises, isn't it? Serala: Let me be perfectly clear. I don’t like you and I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you - and trust me I would like to find out how far that is - but you did serve on this station and so your knowledge of it is going to be important to me. You’re coming with us, but I will be keeping a very close eye on you. Be careful, Commander. I am just looking for a reason to throw you in the brig. I still think you have been involved with almost everything that has happened to us since even before the bot attack. Perkins maintained the inscrutable yet undeniably attractive expression he preferred to wear. He had already been confined to quarters twice since arriving aboard, once on some trumped-up charges from a jealous officer and later due to the impossibly-thin skin of an Atlantis crewmember after all he had tried to do was offer some helpful and constructive criticism. Such frequent and flagrant displays of Atlantean stupidity reminded him of a conversation he had once shared with a colleague, that perhaps incompetence was the most perfect cover-up for acts against the Federation. Perkins: My oh my. Serious charges. I'm sure that such a professional and... charming Starfleet officer such as yourself would not offer these creative conspiracy theories without a substantial body of -::ahem:: proof? Serala: No, I can’t prove anything. And that is why you are still walking free and wearing that uniform. And as long as you are, you will conduct yourself in a manner appropriate to a Starfleet officer. And for now, that means helping us on this mission. Perkins: Despite your personal attacks, I will of course be the better man and offer you my full and invaluable support, ::he counted her pips:: ...Lieutenant Commander? oO Really? Starfleet isn't the organization it used to be. Oo Serala: Very good. How many times had he and his team helpfully gone the extra light-year to patch up this sorry excuse of a ship after the merry band aboard saw fit to go gallivanting off into another speck of trouble? This was his thanks. He rubbed the nose of his bridge to stave off another of the headaches he'd been suffering since unceremoniously being forced aboard. He couldn't decide whether the problem here was either a shallow-minded ingratitude or an utter lack of discipline, probably both. Honestly, he wouldn't be all too surprised if these "rescue operations" ended with his station being blown to smithereens. More space trash to float about the Expanse. At that moment, the rest of the assault team entered the bay and he could hear the heavy thumping footprints of some neanderthal stomping over from the shuttle area. Logan: What is he doing here ? Perkins turned and looked over the somewhat-smaller-than-expected marine-clad buffoon, scanning him up and down as he puffed out his chest like a gorilla and pointed. He couldn't recall if they had ever met before. He also couldn't particularly care. Perkins: A little thing called "my duty." Perhaps you've heard of the concept, Mr...? Logan: QUIET! You lost the right to speak a long time ago ! oO And you seem to have rather lost the ability. Oo Serala: As you were, Captain Logan! He’s coming with us. Logan: I'd trust a first year cadet more than him any day. Perkins: That's little cause to behave like one. Logan: I SAID QUIET !!! Serala: ENARRAIN LOGAN, FAEHOR IUT’FEHILL TEMOHRIE AIHR’RRHAAREVHA!! (CAPTAIN ...STAND DOWN AND THAT IS AN ORDER!!) The grumpy Romulan and the Marine with the loose screw stared each other down for a moment. Perkins checked the time. Was this how the new Captain Torham intended to run a ship? Brell was not ideal, but this... Perkins could not understand why Starfleet Command had not elected to select his own commission from the pool of applicants to serve as the new Atlantis Captain and whip these fools into shape at last. But looking around, he considered now whether he had been in fact blessed by being passed over. oO Honestly, they can hardly board a shuttle without a fight breaking out. Oo Serala: He is coming with us, Captain and that is final. I trust this will not be a problem for you? Logan:: Turning his gaze back to the Engineer:: No Ma'am. I won’t let the cause of our problem prevent me from helping to fix it. Kiax: Apologies for my tardiness. I had to show our new crewmate here the way to the shuttlebay… ::She said, jokingly.:: Whatever he did or did not do isn’t our problem right now. Let’s just get underway and sort the blame later. We’ve got a planet to save… The Marine Captain pushed his way through the pair of hot tempers and turned on the unhinged soldier, who didn't seem inclined to back down. McKnight: Captain Logan, stand down. You're speaking to a superior officer. Perkins: And so at last, welcome Miss Kix. Do you have no need to voice a problem against my presence here as well? ::Perkins remembered Shadydust from her role cross-examining him as Killiak's Advocate, and he had read in the crew sheets about the transfer of the Kix symbiont into this young, supposedly "brilliant" Trill. But if Durrmont was any indication, "brilliant" had an entirely different meaning aboard this ship.:: Kiax: No Sir, I’m just eager to get underway. The longer we spend arguing about what got us here, the less time we have to get myself, and SOUL here, to the station’s computer core and figure out a way to get it back to where it belongs. Logan: Response Captain McKnight turned back to Serala. McKnight: Commander, we have a mission to get started on. Best not to keep my men antsy Serala: You’re correct, Captain. I just needed to make sure everyone here understands were all on the same team. If anyone...anyone! … feels that they can’t work within those guidelines they should leave now. Anyone? No? Good. The two Marines had a little talk, probably about what exactly the process of a court martial would look like after assaulting a superior. The paranoid Romulan gave them a few minutes to finish, then decided they had waited long enough. Serala: ALRIGHT! LOAD UP! DEPARTURE IN TWO MINUTES. YHFEV! (MOVE IT!) Perkins: Finally. After you, gentlemen. Chop chop. Hero-work to do. ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Perkins Engineer at Large Deep Space 26 A239509KJ0 ---------------------------------------------- courtesy of ---------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Kiliak Jo Asst. Chief Engineer USS Atlantis A239509KJ0 -----------------------------------------------

Our community’s Constitution defines five seats and a Captain at Large role for the Executive Council. With the recent, sad departure of Renos – a long-standing Commanding Officer and member of the EC and – a seat has opened on the council. We are pleased to announce that this seat will be filled by FltCapt. Roshanara Rahman (Rich). From his early days improving the wiki with a host of new images and templates, to where he stands now as CO of the Veritas, Deputy Commandant of the Academy, facilitator and founder of the Federation News Service team and spinoff website, he’s shown us time and again how dedicated he is to the success of our community and to our members, who have a loyal advocate in this staff member. Rich previously served as the Captain at Large for 2017 and 2018, where he got a taste of how the council is run, putting in a good position to be an effective member of the council on his first day. You can learn more about him in these other news posts: Captain’s Corner: Roshanara Rahman Meet FNS Editor-in-Chief: Roshanara Rahman Congratulations Rich! The post Executive Council appoints FltCapt. Roshanara Rahman to permanent seat on the council appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

((Carter Family Car)) ::Ravenna stared out the window as they drove into the city. Her mother hadn’t stopped crying and her uncle hadn’t left nor said a word. No one told her what was going on, but she knew her dad wasn’t coming home again.:: Elizabeth: Hey, Sweety. ::Elizabeth wiped some latent tears from her cheek:: I’m taking you to talk to a nice lady who you can tell about how you’re feeling. Ravenna: ::Ravenna turned her attention to her mother.:: Ok, Mommy. Are you talking to her too? Elizabeth: No, she’s your special friend. ::Elizabeth turned back around in her seat. ::Ravenna turned back to the window. Everything was a blur. Before she knew it they were there and her mom was getting her out of the car.:: ((Dr. Corin Fortune’s Office Waiting Room)) Ravenna: A doctor? Am I sick Mommy? Elizabeth: No Sweety, she just wants to talk to you. ::Ravenna listened to the receptionist get her checked in. People murmured about a death. Ravenna was smarter than the adults gave her credit for. She knew what they were talking about. Her mother led her over to some chairs that felt huge and cold. The walls were grey and dreary. She hated it immediately.:: Elizabeth: Are you alright, Sweetheart? ::Ravenna just nodded.:: ::The receptionist called them back up there, the woman’s smile stretching wide for Ravenna as she nodded. Her name plate read R. James in bright blinking letters.:: James: Dr. Fortune will see you know, Ravenna. Would you like your mother to walk you to the doorway? ::She leaned out of the little window a bit, pointing down a curve near the edge of the desk.:: It’s just down this little hall, you’ll have to hit the chime to tell her who you are. Ravenna: No, thank you. I can manage. ::Ravenna took off down the hallway. It seemed to continue forever, but eventually she arrived at the door. She struggled to reach the chime for a bit, but managed a little hop.:: Corin Fortune:Come in! ::The door swished open, revealing...well it was almost home-like. A desk with a woman with bright white hair sat behind it, but that was about all that screamed ‘office’. The ground had a race car track rug, there was a sandbox on stilts near a window, a markerboard and a chalkboard, and several dolls and toys and a little bucket of building blocks from way back when. Several photos decorated the walls, albeit they were mostly on the side near the desk, away from the chaos of the childlike room.:: ::Dr. Corin Fortune, as her nameplate flashed, smiled at Ravenna from where she sat and she stood up, holding a hand on the back of her chair. :: Corin: Hello there. It’s a pleasure to meet you. May I call you Ravenna? Or is there a nickname you prefer? Ravenna:You can call me Ravenna, if you’d like. Can I call you Corin? ::Ravenna felt small, but more relaxed in this room than she had in the waiting room. There were colors everywhere and the chairs were smaller and more plush than the backbreakers in the other room.:: Corin: Absolutely. Come, sit sit. ::She waved at a small set of chairs near a plush couch, taking a seat on it herself, crossing her legs with a PADD in her lap. Despite how she sunk into it, it never made her appear any smaller.:: Would you like to talk to me? Ravenna: ::Ravenna responded while walking to a little purple chair. It was her favorite color and it was furry. It looked fun.:: What would you like to talk about? ::Ravenna sunk into the chair and it almost swallowed her whole. She let out a giggle. This was the happiest she had been in a few weeks.:: Corin: ::Corin smiled, shaking her head lightly.:: My, you’re nearly eaten up aren’t you? Well, we can talk about whatever you please. What brings you here to me today, your favorite color...perhaps we could draw something, would you like that? I have a few crayons, unless you prefer a tablet? Ravenna: I know what Mommy wants us to talk about. She doesn’t want to be the one to tell me Daddy isn’t coming home. I love her, but Daddy was my favorite. We read together every night. My favorite color is purple. I like drawing, but I love to read. We were ready Gray’s Anatomy, the medical book, not the show from the 21st century. I like real books. I don’t like the feeling of tablets. Corin: ::Corin chuckled softly.:: Your favorite, hm? I like real books as well, albeit they’re not as popular now as they once were. ::she sighed, nodding.:: But yes, your father isn’t coming home. I’m sorry about that, Ravenna. What do you think of the situation? Ravenna: Mom never has a lot of time for me. She is always doing art if she isn’t out digging. I feel like I’m going to be alone now. ::Ravenna looked around the office. There were tons of pictures of a little about her age on the desk and on the walls.:: Ravenna: Do you have a daughter? Corin: ::Corin hummed, finger tapping at the side of the PADD in an odd rhythm.:: I do. She’s about your age, if perhaps a tad older. She’s back at home with my family. ::She paused for a moment.:: Do you believe your mother won’t stay home to tend to you? Or is there something more to it? Ravenna: She has a career. And she doesn’t know how to talk to me. I’m weird. Daddy was always better with me than she was. I don’t think she ever wanted kids. :Ravenna was so small, but it was like talking to an adult. She understood more than most adults thought she would.:: Corin: I don’t think you’re weird, you’re quite astute, if I’m honest. Why do you believe she doesn’t want children? Has she said something of the sort around you? Ravenna: I am weird for a six-year-old though. I understand medical terminology and Latin base words. I know a lot about artists who are long, long dead, and I am conversational in French. My mom never bothered to understand me as her child. It was more of an anthropologist observing a people, but never interfering. My dad wanted kids, she wanted a career. I’m getting a nanny now. Mom has already applied to work with a team doing excavations on Risa starting the day after the funeral. ::Ravenna was getting madder and madder the more she said. It became clear that she thought that if one parent had to die, it had been the wrong one. She was starting to let herself go through the stages of grief. She was in anger.:: Corin: I see. You sound very astute for your age. ::She smiled, tapping something on her PADD.:: Would you like to draw with me, for a bit? Perhaps show me what you’re thinking about? Ravenna: Sure. Do you have any colored pencils? Corin: When I’m conflicted, sometimes I like to sketch out how I’m feeling. It’s relaxing, in a way one wouldn’t imagine. Ravenna: I like drawing a bit. I’m afraid I am not very good. I think that disappoints mom a bit. I disappoint her a lot. Corin: Doesn’t matter how good-or bad-you are, so long as you have fun. ::Corin tugged out a few colored pencils from the desk, settling with Ravenna at the tiny table with papers.:: Corin: Okay, let’s see, how about blue first... ((End Childhood Flashback)) (( First Year Academy Flashback)) Ravenna was hoping to do some last minute studying before an exam in her Physics Concepts class. Though it was a science, it wasn’t her strong suit. She looked around for an open table but was disappointed to see they were all filled except for one that was occupied by a single cadet. Ravenna felt bad for interrupting, but she really didn’t want to have to go all the way back to her dorm. Carter: I’m sorry to interrupt, but may I use this end of the table? Fortune: ::Corliss chewed on some gum she had scrounged up from the last of a pack, quickly nodding as she peeked up from her own PADD, popping a small bubble.:: Yeah, no problem! Carter: I am Ravenna Carter ::She reached out to shake the other cadet’s hand:: Fortune: Corliss Fortune! ::She quickly grabbed Ravenna’s hand, shaking it, wiggling the PADD in her other hand.:: Doing course work for Counseling. Carter: Counselling? ::eyeing the PADD in front of Corliss:: Fortune:Yeah! ::She perked up, grinning wide, even as she popped another bubble.:: Well, I mean, I’m doubling nursing with it, but I’m a bit of a wimp with um...needles. Ravenna also hated needles, so she could sympathise with Corliss. Carter: Any relation to Corin Fortune? Fortune: ::Corliss winced, grumbling a bit.:: Yeah, that’s my mom. Carter: How is she doing? Fortune: ::She blinked, tilting her head a bit.:: Um, good? You know her? Oh wait, geeze. ::She laughed.:: You must be a starfleet kid. She only takes on starfleet families. Carter: In a way, I guess I was a Starfleet kid. Never really thought of it that way. ::she laughed nervously and shifted her weight anxiously from foot to foot:: My dad was a civilian doctor who was Killed In Action. I worked with your mom for a long while. She’s the reason I made it out of that dark place. I am happy to hear she’s doing well. It had been a long time since Ravenna had been to see Dr. Fortune. She remembered the woman very well though. For the longest time, she regarded Corin as her only friend. She was the only person who had bothered to get to know her or talk to her after her father died. There was a good chance that if she hadn’t worked with Corin, she might not have adjusted to the changes in her life and she wouldn’t be in Starfleet now. Fortune: ::Corliss blinked, nodding along slowly.:: Ah. Well! I’m real happy to hear she’s helped you! Carter: Sorry to unload all of that on you. Geeze, that was so weird of me. I really do apologize. Fortune: ::Corliss snorted, shaking her head.:: Hey don’t worry about it! Sounds like you’ve been needing it though. ::She frowned softly.:: Everything going okay? I mean. Other than that. Have you been to my mom in a while? I bet she’d be thrilled to see you. Ravenna felt like a complete weirdo after that and busied herself with unpacking her study materials. She didn’t really want to embarrass herself further. Carter: I think I am a little older than her typical patient. I haven’t seen her since I turned 18, so like ten years ago. Everything is as it was I guess. My mom and I don’t speak. She has made it clear that she didn’t want me and she stayed gone as much as possible. I have three doctorates and she wasn’t at a single graduation. Fortune: ::Corliss stuck out her tongue playfully.:: I dunno, I mean. She’s always been vague on the patients she sees to. Doesn’t hurt to swing by either. ::She wrinkled her nose.:: She’s always working. Carter: We’ll see if I ever get time. I am a double discipline as well. I might swing by someday though. Ravenna had never thought about visiting since being an adult. It might not hurt to drop by and say hi. Fortune: Neat! So, watcha studying today though? Anything too hard? Carter: I am an Archaeologist and Medical Doctor, so I have chosen science and medical. Unfortunately, there are other classes I am required to take that I do not enjoy. Like the Physics I have an exam in. ::She waved her bad and laughed, never had she hated a class like she hated physics::. Fortune: Boo, physics! ::She laughed, shaking her head.:: But yeah, I get that. Mm, we can quiz each other on stuff, if you want? Or find really weird facts about physics. Like. ::She made a noise with her teeth, tilting her head back and forth.:: ...physics in general is just weird. Carter: I can definitely quiz you if you want! I am guessing you have already done the Physics classes that are required? Fortune: Yeah, last semester actually! But I’m in a few other classes. Democracy is one...oh and survival but that’s more of a….::she waved her hand.:: A hands on type of class? Carter: Gotcha! I haven’t taken Democracy, but I did General Diplomacy last semester. I have Starship Emergencies this semester instead of survival. This is only my third semester though. ((Two years later)) Carter: ::running into the library:: Corliss! ::Her voice anything but quiet:: Ravenna knew immediately that she was gonna get yelled at, but she didn’t really care too much. It was the beginning of the end of an era. The next year, she would be on her own again and she was going to enjoy the time she had left with her friends. Fortune: ::Corliss waved from the study desk to the side, PADD in her other hand.:: Ravenna!! Ravenna was bubbling over! It was the start of Corliss’ last semester and the future seemed so bright Carter: Spill! What ship are you hoping for? ::pausing:: I have been spending entirely too much time with Xerix, I swear. ::She faked a shiver and then laughed:: Fortune: ::Corliss snickered, wiggling in her chair to tilt it back a bit, balancing on the back two legs.:: I don’t know! I really don’t! The last exam is really hard, although my brother said I shouldn’t listen to everyone. Carter: You have to have looked at a few ships at least... Fortune: Weeelll…::She flicked on her PADD, turning it to Ravenna, showing a ship in a profile.:: There’s this one. The Gorkon? I’ve heard interesting tales about it! Plus, they run off all their counselors? A challenge! Carter: Ohhhh and you do love a challenge. I can see it now. That is the ship you are going to end up on. Ravenna was a year away from her own posting. She really hadn’t given it any thought. She knew that science and medical officers were always needed on ships, so she could be placed literally anywhere. She knew one thing though, she wanted on a ship and not a base. Fortune: Oh I dunno...there’s so many good ones too. Eagle...okay so I just looked at two. ::She stuck her tongue out.:: Carter: No seriously, that’s your ship, so study up! What’s your schedule look like this semester? Fortune: Oh! Lemme see...I went for General Archaeology-just to see what it’s all about. ::she winked playfully.:: Terran Gender, Anthropology, Non-Terran Gender-let me say, I’m quite eager for both of those, you know I love any psychology courses! Carter: You got this in the bag. You are home free my friend. I on the other hand am doomed; got another Physics class… ::It honestly made her want to cry:: Fortune: Oh Ravenna. ::She patted her friend’s shoulder softly.:: That sounds absolutely horrid. What else do you have? Carter: I have two 600 level medical classes and Organic Chemistry 2, why? Fortune: ::Corliss winced.:: Ooooh that one’s a hard one. Carter: You gotta be kidding me? Fortune: Nope. ::She popped the ‘p’ like she did with gum, grinning wide.:: The professor, Professor Xal, is not one to take excuses for anything. They’re a bit rough and very dry, nearly fell asleep during a few classes. Carter: Oh! Before I forget, I was looking through the course offerings and planning my next year out, you know, like I do, and I found a course on the Dominion Wars. So I read about it and you know what struck me? ::a pause for dramatic effect:: Fortune: ::Corliss made a face, putting her PADD down and shrugging.:: What? Carter: It was ongoing when my father died and he was a doctor. It would make sense that he would be out there aiding, right? Fortune: Oh. ::She paused, thinking a bit. That would make the most sense, they weren’t too far apart in age.:: Well...yes, actually, it would. Or at least, a casualty of the war. ::She looked vaguely uncomfortable at the memory of said war.:: Did you find out anything else? Carter: I still haven’t been granted access to his file. Anyway, back to your grand plan for the end of the year... Ravenna still didn’t talk about everything that much, pieces here and there when the conversation drifted that way, but things hadn’t improved between Ravenna and her mom. Corliss had tried to help Ravenna reach out the year before, but her call had gone unanswered. ::Corliss perked up, quickly nodding as she pulled up her PADD again, flicking through to a file to show off to Ravenna.:: Fortune: My father is coming down-after a great many pleading-so we’re going to go to some beautiful gardens called the Botanical Gardens. Carter: Ohh, the gardens are absolutely breathtaking. You’re gonna love it! Fortune: Well, that’s for family, mostly. Buuuuut. ::She grinned wide.:: After is going to be at this really ritzy place my mother likes. It has a dance floor, I can finally teach you to ballroom dance! Carter: Ah yes, me and my two left feet, thank you for reminding me. I made it through Risa with Ghant without having to dance, I should have known that my luck was about to run out! Fortune: ::Corliss snorted.:: I’m surprised, he’s even more elegant with his mannerisms than the one my great grandmother impressed upon me. ::She laughed.:: But yes, it’ll be amazing, and then we’ll have a nice banquet, and oh! We need outfits. I need a fancy wig too. ::She tugged at her pink hair lightly, nodding.:: Carter: Do I sense a shopping spree? ::It was Ravenna’s turn to perk up:: You know I do love a girls only shopping spree… Is Brom going to make it for this ordeal you have planned? Fortune: ::Corliss nodded quickly.:: He said he will, he had shore leave saved up-which I didn’t know you could do?-but either way! He said he would! Carter: I have a surprise for you when we get done here! I didn’t want it to get messed up so it’s in my dorm waiting for you! Before I forget again… Please tell your mom thank you for the birthday card. It meant so much! Ravenna was feeling very scattered as of late and it was getting to be very evident that she needs to slow down a bit. Fortune: ::Corliss laughed, nodding.:: Oh, sounds fun! I will! Plus you can tell her that night too. Anyway, so I was thinking, there’s a little shop down the road, they have such pretty dresses all fluffed out and jazz! Carter: I’m listening ::Ravenna leaned in closer:: Fortune: Okay so what we need is something dashing, like a dark red or green...with bows! Giant ones. ::She nodded with a grin.:: Those are my favorite! Carter:I look very good in green. Red is not my color… An argument should be made for blue or purple as well. Fortune: Wonderful! Green is a pretty color...ah, when do we have time to go? I’ve got an empty block this afternoon. Carter: I am free this afternoon too, or there’s always weekends… I guess whenever you want to go. Most of my classes are in the mornings. Fortune: Awesome! Oooh we can make a weekend of it, go looking it all over, maybe get some nice stockings…::She continued to chatter, flicking through the PADD over neat outfit ideas with Ravenna.:: Ravenna was excited! Since coming to Starfleet Academy, she finally felt like she could loosen up. She had friends her age and she felt like she belonged somewhere. She would enjoy this while it lasted. After all, at the end of the semester, her friends would be gone. -End- Lieutenant JG Corliss Fortune Highest Quality Counsellor Brain USS Gorkon G239510CF0 & Ensign Ravenna Carter Science Officer USS Constitution B C239607RC0

I think a hearty thank you, well done and congratulations go to @Jo Marshall and @Quinn Reynolds for their recent JPs starring the above PNPCs. For those not ofey with the deep intrigue on the Gorkon, Jo's brother Orson and Romulan officer Valesha (Vee) snuck off ship stealing @Tasha MacFarlane's precious Unicorn shuttle. As far as the crew are aware they have betrayed Starfleet and are on the run. Unbeknownst to our characters, however, they have gone deep undercover with a plan of the Admiral's, and we have been getting regular updates via fantastically written JPs which explain in fabulous detail the escapades of our various double (or even triple) agents. The superlative writing and plotting of these JPs is a great testament to both writers involved and speaks volumes as to why they have risen so high. Congrats to both of you. We're not worthy. Sycophancy aside, I look forward to welcoming both officers back to the Gorkon with stern looks and discomfort as everyone tries to reconcile their feelings with what they now know.

Evening. I'm honored to be invited to be a part of this community. This group was ST RP before it ever became a popular past time. Howdy y'all. I'm Nathan. I'm just recently starting to enjoy the little things everyday life has to offer. I'm a Marine Veteran with 12 years of honorable service, including 2 deployments to the Stan and 1 to Iraq. I'd be closing in on my 20 year mark around this time but I was injured on my last deployment and after a long stubborn bout of macho denial I finally admitted to myself that my injuries were never going to let me get back to 100% and I took an honorable medical discharge. I do a little security contract work here and there but for the most part I have a lot of free time on my hands and rather than continue to drive my lady nuts finding obscure and pointless tasks around our house, I figured I'd get back into RP. Been role playing off and on for 20 years and I'm damn proud and glad to be here.

Hey all! Thanks for having me! My name is Jonathan Ayers, and I live in the San Francisco Bay Area in California. I was introduced to the group by my dear friend Sabrina (Thanks Senket!). I am a Digital Production technician/AV lead for an advertising agency in San Francisco and I am also a twitch streamer in my off time. I have a 6 year old son and love trek, video games, motorcycles, and old cars/trucks. My characters in previous games have all been BORG, but I did not see an option for that here. I am now a Ba'ku male (from my favorite trek movie). My character is named JAyers (only JAyers "pronunciation: Jay Airs").

Hi All! My name is Matthew (@ironjawa in the discord). I'm live in South Wales where I work as a civil servant. I've been a role-player since 1997 and a participant in a number of play by email style games since 2000 when I joined the now very much defunct Andromeda Trek. I look forward to writing with whoever is unlucky enough to land me as a shipmate.

@Cory Stoyer is really getting in to his role of jilter lover. Had fun reading this. ((The Vortex, Leisure District, Nassau)) ::Cory was sitting at one of the main bars in the Vortex club. The music was loud and the beat hypnotic. He was watching the crowd behind him using the mirror behind the bar. Cory suggested a plan of action that his team was talking through. To Cory it was a simple thing for him to do.:: Stoyer: We are running out of time, so if anyone has a better idea, I am all ears. Neathler: What Doc said, we're not letting him go in alone. I'll find a way to accompany him if he gets an invitation. And I'll keep the commlink open so you two have a clue of what is going on, once we're inside. ::It made Cory feel better that his team wanted to join him. But they had to get the door open.:: Tereen: Capricious human. Have you considered that she may turn you against us? She may attempt to take you as hostage if any part of your plan fails or, she may not see the need for a hostage and eliminate you immediately. ::Samira looked down towards Doc and Vad who gripped the jammer.:: How far does your plan reach, Dante? Adea: Vad, you have a point, but there are four of us. We work together. Stoyer: Yes, Vad I have thought about it a lot. But I was hoping my team would save me from myself. Tereen: ::Tonelessly.:: I am merely here to ensure that we thoroughly examine any action before taking it. It is illogical to assume any other intent. If we are going through with this…plan, then may I suggest we run a scan of the room—we need a better visualization of the interior as well as the exit routes and the number of occupants. Stoyer: OK, but hurry. Adea: Sensible, but can we triangulate the tricorders we have, gain more accurate readings? Tereen: I considered this earlier. If you allow me to, I will quickly use your tricorder to discreetly send a modification code to Newt’s. Newt, you can then use that to give us eyes inside the room—I am particularly interested in that potential back exit. The jammer is complete. Once Dante has our target in position, I can remotely activate it, disabling any communications and/or transports specific to those signals in and surrounding that room. Neathler: You'll need to bring the jammer with you in case we and our friend move to another location. Stoyer: Good idea. Kinda would like an idea of what I am stepping into. Adea: That’s as safe as we’re going to get. Do it. ::Cory waited at the bar for Vlad to finish her scan. He kept scanning the crowd behind him. Doc's voice came over and got Cory started..:: Adea: Dante, feel free to start ranting and raving about Reynolds whenever you like. Make sure they can hear you. ::Cory nodded and got up from his seat. It would be a bit weird to start ranting all of a sudden. He wandered the floor watching dancers and brushing off the ladies that approached him. Cory slowly headed to a bar near the door as he dared. Sitting at an open stool. The pretty Trill brunette bartender came over. Her outfit did not leave much to the imagination. The question of if the spots went all the way down was answered.:: Trill Bartender: What can I get handsome? ::Cory gave one of his best roguish grins. He saw her cheeks flush a bit.:: Stoyer: Got something to deaden pain and make me forget. Trill Bartender: Sure thing. ::The bartender reappeared quickly enough with a large drink. Taking a sip and sighing out loud. He looked up and saw her staring at him.:: Trill Bartender: Come on baby, tell me what's bothering you. Maybe I can help? ::She flashed a dazzling smile. Cory returned it.:: Stoyer: Thanks, but unless you can turn back time and give me the last 3 years of my life back. Trill Bartender: Oh, do tell. Let me guess a woman? Stoyer: Of course. ::Cory paused dramatically. This almost too perfect. He felt a setup, but plunged in.:: Stoyer: Let's see. My wonderful now ex-wife who knew of my "occupation", didn't mind when she had the best of everything. Romulan ale, silks anything… Being a minor Starfleet officer on a backwater Starbase was bad enough, so why not live a bit. ::The Trill nodded as he continued on.:: Stoyer: All that changed when she was selected as some Admiral's what do you call it……::a snap of fingers.:: aide. Stoyer: Now, her baggage can not be seen, lest it tarnish her Admiral. I met her once. What was her name...Reynolds. Yeah, Admiral Reynolds. An icy stare, I mean frozen. ::Cory was getting into his impromtude story.:: Severe looking. Soooo anyway where was I. Now I am a liability. So a quick divorce and a boot of the Starbase. The ex moves to her wonderful starship….starts with a G….Greg, no….klingonish, Gorkon. That's it. ::Cory was watching the Trill as he spoke. He hoped it was passed off as ogling her, but he wanted to know if the hook was in.:: Stoyer: So, some friends helped me and here I am. Trill Bartender: Baby, a customer needs me, don't go anywhere. ::Cory smiled on the inside.:: Stoyer: I am not going anywhere. ::Cory watched her leave. He continued to watch the crowd behind him. A few moments and the bartender did not appear. Cory started to get worried he over sold it. A shadow fell over him. He saw a very large Orion male standing behind him. Cory turned in his stool and sized the Orion up.:: Stoyer: Can I help you? Orion: Come with me. ::Cory got up off the stool and stood nose to nose with the Orion. The guy needed lessons in bathing.:: Stoyer: Why should I? You are not my type. I was talking to the pretty Trill bartender. Orion: Sir, come with me or I can make you. ::Cory wasn't sure he could. He trained with Lael Rosek and learned to hold his own. But Cory knew the Orion had backup nearby.:: Stoyer: My friends? ::Cory looked around to see if any of them were nearby.:: Orion: Last time come with me. ::With a sigh, Cory nodded. It was a chance to get inside. Cory was going to take it. He hoped his friends would save him.:: Adea/Neathler/Tereen: Response Lieutenant Cory Stoyer Mission Specialist USS Gorkon C239111CS0

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! ATLANTIS Maddi Hyden to Lieutenant Esa Darkkdust to Lieutenant JG Kiliak Jo to Lieutenant Alexander Williams to Commander COLUMBIA Jona ch’Ranni to Lieutenant EAGLE Quentin Collins to Lieutenant JG Chloe Waters to Lieutenant JG Blaidd Vescori to Lieutenant JG VERITAS Jansen Orrey to Lt. Commander Geoffrey Teller to Lieutenant Addison MacKenzie to Lieutenant JG The post Promotions for June appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

((OOC: @Maddi Hyden and @Kayla Drex captured the mood perfectly! I loved every second of reading this one! The wedding is going to be one heck tonne of fun to sim with you guys! ❤️ )) ((Maddi And Esa’s Quarters, Deck 3, USS Atlantis)) :: Maddi had been getting ready for her shift, but she had realized she was way too early. She smiled as a thought crossed her mind. She replicated a glass chocolate milk and activated a subspace communication and waited to see if there was a reply. :: ((USS Eagle, Kayla’s Quarters)) :: Kayla had been painting again. This new piece was so far without form or intention. The dark swirl of deep blues, black, and greens had only recently been interrupted by a shock of a splatter of metallic gold paint she’d wanted to experiment with. The tiny metallic flecks in the paint swirled in the solvent in the brush cup now. Kayla smiled as she watched the tiny whirlpool. Looking at her canvas, she smiled still wider. Some shining spots in a wash of bleak darkness. The painting was done. It didn’t need anything else in her mind, so she rinsed her brushes again and hung them carefully to dry. :: No sooner had she washed her hands than she heard the terminal on her desk chirp, indicating an incoming subspace message. Curious, she plopped down into her chair and tapped to complete the connection. The smiling face that greeted her was one she’d seen so many times while at the Academy, but hadn’t seen in over six months.:: Drex: =/\= Maddi! Hi! How in the galaxy are you? =/\= :: Maddi hadn’t seen the face in a very long time, but it made her so happy to see such an old friend. Kayla had been there for her when Esa couldn’t and she had become rather fond of the conversations. :: Hyden: =/\= Kayla my old friend! I’m doing rather well I have some big news to tell you, but first I have to ask you. How have you been? =/\= Drex: =/\= I’ve … well, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t been great. =/\= :: Kayla then explained how her Momma had passed, the doubts she’d been feeling in the sudden absence, and the new resolve she had started to feel settling in her heart and mind.:: Drex: ::realizing she’d been talking uninterrupted for the last 10 minutes:: =/\= … but that’s about it. What’s this news? You getting another promotion or something? =/\= Hyden: =/\= Wait a minute. I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of your mother. For one she raised a strong young woman who made my time at the Academy that much easier. Don’t ever doubt yourself Kayla your worth more than you’ll ever know to me and so many others! They say your resolve makes you stronger and in your case I think you could be so much stronger out of all this. :: Maddi stopped for a minute looking at Kayla who looked like she was going to cry. :: Look K I’ve always been her for you though it’s been so long keep your head up if anyone can get through this it’s you. :: She paused again and decided it was time. :: However to answer your question. I proposed to Esa and she said yes and well I want you to be in the wedding if...that’s something you’d want? Drex: ::beat:: =/\= Wait … you WHAT!? =/\= ::The sound that Kayla then made might have only been audible to Mandy (Chloe’s dog, probably sleeping until that moment in the quarters across the hall). She alternated between clapping her hands, flailing in excitement, and covering her face to wipe away the happy tears that now streamed from her eyes.:: Drex: =/\= Maddi, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you both! Congratulations! And YES! OF COURSE! I’d love to be in your wedding! Have you two set a date yet? Can I help with anything? ohmygoshohmygoshohmyGOSH! This is so exciting! =/\= ::Kayla beamed at the small screen, Maddi’s face beamed back at her. As excited as Kayla was, it was obvious - and fitting - that Maddi was even more excited. Kayla had met Esa back at the Academy. She’d helped Esa bring a pretty dismal grade in Temporal Mechanics up to a respectable B-. There was one thing Kayla was certain of: Esa and Maddi were a perfect match.:: Hyden: =/\= Not exactly our plans are for our next shore leave, but we aren’t sure yet. Well I know one thing you can do. Get your maid of honor speech ready. :: She paused for effect. :: I think you know what that means. =/\= :: Maddi looked at Kayla and could tell she was beyond excited. She smiled it was a decision that she had not made lightly. Jo and Kayla were the only two she had even thought about for the honor, but Kayla had done so much for her and she knew what Maddi had been through. Maddi felt as though Kayla deserved the honor. :: :: Kayla stared at the screen, mouth agape, and blinked a couple times while this latest request set in. :: Drex: =/\= Maddi … =/\= :: Then the penny dropped. She would have to remember to apologize to Chloe later for torturing her poor dog. The squeals coming from Kayla’s quarters caught a passing crewman off-guard. He stopped in his tracks and stared at the closed door, wondering if he should call security. Kayla’s squeals turned into fits of delighted laughter though, so he shrugged and continued on his way. :: Drex: =/\= Maddi, I would. Absolutely. LOVE. to be your Maid of Honor. Thank you so much for asking me! I’m really honored and touched. =/\= :: Kayla took a breath, thinking immediately about how many ways she could make this special day even more celebratory. :: Drex: =/\= Bachelorette party. I’ve got some ideas for how to make that work. Don’t worry, it’s not going to be anything crazy or risque. I know that’s not really your scene. I want to help you with anything and everything you need. You just let me know, ok? I’m your girl. I got you. Need me to mess up a baker trying to overcharge for the cake? Just point me in the punk’s direction. ::another small scream of glee:: GAH! Maddi! This is gonna be so FUN!!!! =/\= Hyden: =/\= You better not go crazy. You know I don’t like crazy things in party’s you learned that at the Academy. Well I’ll make sure Esa and I keep you in the loop. :: She smiled. :: =/\= ::Kayla blushed. It had been the only time she tried going to a “wild Academy party,” and she’d dragged Maddi along. It … hadn’t gone well, and Kayla didn’t try another party after that. :: Drex: =/\= No worries. It’ll be totally … you. =/\= ::The girls talked a bit longer, Maddi telling Kayla about the proposal, Kayla gasping at all the right parts of the story. This was going to be a lot of fun.:: END

((Beta Quadrant, Par'tha Expanse, USS Atlantis, Deck 5, Sickbay)) :: The entire trip on the Illa'vareia had been brief from his reckoning, as the Al-Leyan had spent the vast majority of it unconscious. Even then, under sedation he had a listless slumber. Tossing and turning until restraint fields were put in place to keep him from falling out of the bed as nightmares consumed his sleep. Though the storm wrought on his mind by the device implanted harshly into the back of his neck had abated, the psychological trauma he'd faced at the hands of a cold and calculating RoLF had been extensive. :: ((TRS Torment - Nightmare)) :: Toryn awoke with a start and he was back on board the Torment. The sickeningly familiar crimson glow of the force field and the cold, red eyes of his torturer stared at him as he was restrained to the wall of the cell by those magnetically enforced bands around his limbs. The machine stared at him studying him. Beside the RoLF was a familiar, blue skinned figure. Brell stood beside him, looking just as weary as he felt himself. Like he had when Toryn rescued him off the bridge of the asteroid ship. The Bolian stared at him. :: Nightmare Brell: Commander. You acted recklessly and put yourself in danger. Your actions endangered the entire ship and crew. I'm disappointed in you. :: The interrogator RoLF made a gesture and the electrical field activated but this time it didn't strike him. Toryn watched as the electricity coursed through Brell, the screams of whom mixed with his own as he watched his Commanding officer turn to dust from the discharge. Then he felt the bite of the current touch him and he cried out. Only to black out. :: ((USS Atlantis, Sickbay)) :: Tossing a bit, he screamed out, voicing his agony in the nightmare induced by the trauma he'd endured and the sedatives keeping him asleep. Unaware of those around him, conscious or otherwise as he felt himself snap awake again. :: ((TRS Torment - Nightmare)) :: He jolted awake, still in that damned cell, still with that damned RoLF. This time Several other Atlanteans were arranged around the cell in front of him, all bound as he was and facing him. Logan. McKnight. Maeli. Knight. They all stared at him, a mix of contempt and fear in their expressions. :: Nightmare Knight: You had to know we'd try to come for you. ::His prosthetic eye glowed the same cold red as the RoLF's:: You doomed us all. Nightmare McKnight: You failed to save the Captain. You doomed us all. Nightmare Logan: You doomed us all. ::His cybernetic arm was a solid disruptor, like the other RoLF's had been:: Nightmare Maeli: You destroyed my mind. You doomed us all. All four in unison: You doomed us all. :: Again the torturer robot gestured and the cell's torture field activated. Shredding all four of them with the same intense, insane current of power. They all turned to ash in front of him and he screamed as the current hit him next. :: ((USS Atlantis, Sickbay, several hours later)) :: Toryn's screams once more echoed through the room before a gentle hand was placed over his mouth and a hiss of a hypospray against his neck sent him back into a deep slumber. He almost thought he heard a familiar voice sobbing. :: ((TRS Torment - Nightmare )) :: Toryn gasped sharply as he came to consciousness, being pulled from his dream of being back on board the Atlantis, under the care of the lavender haired Antosian nurse. And he instantly wished he hadn't. The RoLF was there again, but this time the person bound beside him made his breath catch in his throat. The scruffy beard, disheveled hair and perpetually grumpy expression was unmistakable. Dermont. Valin, his best friend. They'd served in the Academy together. They'd bonded over this last year and a half. Toryn had helped rescue the man's son from some less than savory sorts who tried to murder him. Not Valin. He couldn't do this. But his voice would come, like he had been robbed of speech. :: Nightmare Dermont: Ya damned fool. Ye've doomed us. I'll never get ta see me boy again! My Brie! Yer no friend!! :: Toryn shook his head violently, as much as the restraint on his neck would permit as the RoLF gestured and he watched in abject horror as Valin was subjected to millions of amps. Couldn't close his eyes no matter how much he wanted to. He watched his best friend turn to ash before him, the thermos at his side melting from the intense heat. As the blackness consumed him again he welcomed it, he couldn't stop screaming, or sobbing. :: ((USS Atlantis, Sickbay, several hours later)) :: Ragged of voice, he could barely scream and were it not for the restraint field he'd have flung himself out of the biobed, but there was the sensation of presences around him. At least two, they had always been there, but were different as if several individuals had taken turns keeping watch over him. :: ((TRS Torment - Nightmare)) :: A whine of defeat erupted from him when he awoke once more, once more with a start from the peace and calm of Atlantis' sickbay to his reality. This torturous hell he'd been enduring for months. As he looked up Toryn instantly wished he could gouge out his own eyes. The RoLF, Ceti stood in the center of the cell before him, on either side, bound by the same metal rings were the last two he'd ever hope to see in this place. To Ceti's right was the raven haired, slightly pointy eared and beautiful Romulan he'd served with for nearly two years. The first woman since leaving Leya-I he'd fallen for, an alien, someone he, by his own culture should be repulsed by having such inclinations but he wasn't a normal Al-Leyan. Toryn felt himself sobbing immediately, then drew his gaze to the RoLF's left and felt his throat clench at the sight of the an equally familiar blonde. Ears pointed slightly less so than his own, the familiar reflective sheen to her eyes would be unmistakable to anyone familiar with their species, he knew those blue eyes well. He'd stared into them long enough. Lael Rosek, the only other woman he loved and couldn't have was bound and staring at him. He felt as though he would crack in half even before either spoke up. :: Nightmare Serala: You told me you wouldn't let me fail to keep my promise, Toryn. You're a failure. ::Ceti handed a familiar dathe'anofv-sen to her and she took it:: I could never love you. You let me die. You doomed us all. :: Toryn fought desperately to say something, but as before no voice came forth and his gaze was drawn to Lael. :: Nightmare Rosek: Toryn, I'm glad I left you when I did. You ruin everything around you. And even those not. Our link. You've been making my life miserable while you've been here. I can feel it. I thought I'd be free once you're gone, but now you've doomed me too. I see now I could never love you. ::Her beautiful eyes turned red:: You doomed us all. :: The RoLF gestured and he watched in horror as Serala thrust the honor blade into her chest, a moment before the electrical current filled the room more vibrantly than before. The two women he loved evaporated into ash in what felt like hours, their screams filling his ears and when the void of blackness consumed him again he hoped he would'nt ever wake up again. :: ((Deck 5, Sickbay, USS Atlantis, an hour after Dermont's arrival)) :: Toryn jolted awake, screaming for Lael and Serala and felt a hard, invisible force keeping him to the biobed. It was a biobed, not a table. It was certainly softer. There was no red glow, only the bright white illumination of a Federation starship. A familiar one. The Al-Leyan stared up at the ceiling. The Mission Specialist was exhausted, despite having been asleep since his rescue little of it had been restful. He shuddered and felt discomfort on his cheeks, the dried remains of tears, he wanted to cry more but he had none left. A shadow loomed over him and Toryn turned his head to look up at the source and his eyes widened with a mix of surprise, confusion and elation at seeing his dear friend Dermont staring down at him in all of his scruffy glory. :: Raga: Va..::His voice was raspy and he had to cough and swallow a few times to speak:: Valin...Is that really you? Dermont: response Raga: Had...to ask...I've seen you die too many times...I don't know what's real...and what's a dream. Dermont: response :: Toryn definitely felt it, despite his body's dense structure the man had landed a square and hardy strike on him. He coughed and nodded. :: Raga: Ow. Dermont: response Raga: Please..tell me we didn't loose anyone. If anyone died trying to bring me back....::His voice trailed off, but the look in his cerulean eyes conveyed the Al-Leyan would consider that a poor trade:: Dermont: response ========================================================= Lieutenant Commander Toryn Raga Mission Specialist USS Atlantis NCC-74682 PodCast Team Atlantis Staff Member Writer ID: A239410TR0 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Toryn_Raga @Toryn Raga This was incredible it shows what torture can do to a person's mind! You did an excellent job at conveying the fear and pain. It may not be a joyous post, but it was very well written!

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 Ensign Chloe Waters playing a Human female Helm Officer assigned to the USS Eagle. GALVEN: Thank you for taking the time in doing an interview with me! Could you tell us a little about yourself for our readers out there WATERS: ::waves:: Hello everyone. Most of you know me by my character name, or by Gar. Perhaps some of you may know me by a few other identities. The person with the stories, the crazy person, or the blind person. Whatever the case, all of those descriptions are true. In any case, I’m eighteen years old, pal, and let me tell ya aboot my proud Canadian background, eh? Since this will definitely come up, my history with sight, and/or lack there of, is complicated. I am a cancer surviver even though, statistically, I shouldn’t be here. I was diagnosed at six months old and was in treatment for a couple months. I lost one eye to it and the other was saved, even though the doctors didn’t think I could see out of it at the time. A few years later they discovered otherwise. When I was in the fourth grade my vision started to deteriorate and I had to have surgery to get a cataract removed. What vision I had shot back up until I had to have some residual scarring removed two years later because I was starting to lose it again. Two years after that, the cataract began to grow back, and I started to lose my sight so I needed surgery to correct for that again. My sight was restored, until I went to bed one night a few months later and woke up the next morning… with all of it gone. To this day no one understands why, or why I have since regained some of my light perception. Despite what issues being blind has caused me, it isn’t as bad as it seems. Being without sight allows me to get to know people on a more personal level, because I judge people based on who they are, rather than what they look like. As for my relationship with Trek, I’ve been a fan since I stumbled on it ever since I was eight years old. The show struck a cord with me immediately, thanks to a certain chief engineer aboard the Enterprise. I’ll let you all figure out which one. In any case that love of Trek has lead me to joining various roleplaying groups, trying out different characters. And now I’m here. How did you find out about Starbase 118 and what made you ultimately choose our community and stay with us? I found out about Starbase 118 primarily thanks to Galven here. To be honest, I think I hung around for… three weeks before I decided to join. Because of some bad past experiences I prefer to observe a group for a while before deciding if I want to take part in it or not. Since people have welcomed me, I figured… may as well give this group a shot. What really sold it though, was after I joined up and was browsing the wiki. I mentioned some accessibility issues one morning, and a group of… three or four players, maybe more, spent close to an hour and a half trying to make the wiki more accessible. Thanks to Sevo and others, that is still being looked in to. With the care and open mindedness people have shown about this… my choice to stay has been solidified. Your character is a mute which means she doesn’t talk. Why did you decide for her to have that and how are you going to use it for character development? To be honest? I don’t actually know what gave me the idea to play a mute, but I’m doing it for a couple reasons. Firstly, it’s something probably very few people have seen before. Secondly such a character presents interesting roleplay opportunities for me as a creative person. As for character development, if you’ve read Chloe’s wiki, you know she has had her fair share of difficulties. I designed her this way deliberately. My intent isn’t to explore Chloe primarily, though I have no doubt that will happen. My intention with this character is to cause other characters, and by extension their players, to explore themselves. How do they react to someone who can’t talk naturally? Do they ask about it or leave her alone? What about her social oddities? Do people tolerate them, try to be understanding of her background? Or do they let those oddities influence their perception of her? There is endless soul searching potential here, not just for my character, but for others as well. That’s what I think makes her great. A character you can explore is fine, but one who you can create, who can cause other characters, and thereby their players, to look inside themselves and think… and consider how they would react to someone so different… there is something beautiful in that to me. I hope that, through playing this character, I can help bring out the spark of life which made Trek so memorable, so meaningful to so many people. Peaceful coexistence with those who are different than you are, acceptance, and perhaps some social commentary. Only time will tell how this goes, but I’m looking forward to exploring Chloe’s relationships with others. I think it’s really awe inspiring that you don’t allow your visual impairment to hinder you. You use a reader that helps you read out everything. How does that process work? While I do not know the specifics of how a screen reader actually works behind the lines, I do know this much. A screen reader, such as NVDA (Non-Visual Desktop Access) on Windows, or Voiceover on the Mac and IOS, cannot function independently. The screen reader relies on whatever program you are using for the information, as it can’t always pick something out on its own. If a program isn’t coded properly, a screen reader may have some difficulty functioning within it, provided how the program is coded allows it to work at all. The screen reader converts whatever text it can in to spoken words. Sometimes it can even convert images in to spoken words which actually make sense, if said image is coded with a description for the screen reader to detect. 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 have a lot of free time outside of classes. There are a couple things I want to do. Things which people like Sevo have made significantly easier. The problem with gaming is that so few games, in the grand scheme of things, are playable by people like me. When one comes along, it’s usually popular for a little while, in my opinion because there’s very little else. Then the game fades away and is forgotten. A new game comes out and the cycle repeats. Why? In my opinion, because there are so few games which allow for interaction with others. Online communities like this one are very different. But people don’t know they exist until they really go searching for them. So I want to do a few things. Firstly, I want to make sure that the website here is, eventually, completely accessible and clear. Now, while I did code in a limited capacity for a little while, this is way out of my area of expertise. But there are some people I know who might have better luck. My reasoning behind this is, and this sounds strange, but it’s all about appearances. To us as blind people, a website’s appearance is all about how it reads to our ears. If it doesn’t read well, we tend to avoid that website whenever possible. So the first step in tapping into a whole community of people that few realize is out there, is to minimize the head scratching nature of the online environment. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not criticizing anyone here. I completely understand why things are the way they are. Until now there have probably been few, if any, screen reader using players here. As such, no one has really had a reason to test the website with a screen reader. But in a way, the fact that there haven’t been any blind simmers here to my knowledge is part of the problem. I’m hopeful that we can resolve the accessibility issues here, so that when I tell other blind friends about this sim group I’m a part of, I can say with pride that this was the way things started out, and this is how they’ve changed since then. Aside from helping to contribute to the website by testing accessibility, I am hopeful that, in time, I can contribute in other ways. Only time, and the community, will tell what those ways are. And lastly, I saw on Discord that you have a great cackle. Would you humor me and send a audio recording of this, please? You can listen to it here! I know there are many of you — out there with questions of your own. My Discord, and myself, are always open for questions. If there is anything you, the reader, want to know, feel free to satisfy your curiosity in the lobby. Or, if you’d prefer, send me a dm. Thanks for your time, Ensign Chloe Waters! You can read more about Ensign Chloe Waters on the wiki. The post Lower Decks Interview: Ensign Chloe Waters, USS Eagle appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

((The Look Outt - Deck 10 - USS Columbia)) :: Rune sat in her usual seat in the Look Outt, close to the window facing the door so she could see who came and went. Krystyan sat in a booster seat beside her shoveling cereal into his mouth by the handful. She wasn’t sure where Na’Toth had gotten off to and she really didn’t care. The Verillian was good with her son but still managed to get on her nerves rather quickly and she wasn’t in the mood for him. :: :: She took a sip of her Masala Chai tea and continued to read the reports on her PADD. She had been flabbergasted when she got the notification that T’Lea was being transferred to Columbia. She had mixed emotions about serving with the crazy Romu-Vulc again. According to the reports, much had changed since the last time they had spoken. :: :: Rune leaned forward with one hand cradling her forehead. She took a deep breath and released it. T’Lea’s mother had been murdered. Her throat tightened slightly as she read the details. Ravius wasn’t what she would consider a good person but she wasn’t entirely bad either. She had helped Rune find out information of a personal nature and for that, she had agreed to do certain things in return, mainly not kill T’Lea… as if she would. :: :: There was also mention that T’Sara was gone, though she couldn’t find any information about where she had gone or the circumstances. :: Krystyan: Toth! Toth! :: The sudden outburst caused Rune to drop the PADD and sit up straighter. She rolled her eyes the moment she saw the Verillian ‘waddling’ toward their table. Krystyan was kicking his feet, one of which was kicking Rune in the shin. After the third time, she grabbed his foot beneath the table and held it in place. :: :: N’Toth scruffed Krystyan’s curly blond hair as he sat down. At the same time, he pushed a PADD toward Rune. She glanced down at the PADD and then back up at the blue faced annoyance. :: Jolara: What is that? N’Toth: ::grinning around the horns protruding from his face:: It’s what’s called a PADD. You know, Personal Access Display Device. Jolara: ::sucking in a breath:: I know that. What is it you want me to look at? N’Toth: It’s your itinerary for shore leave planetside. I took the liberty of planning your R&R since you were obviously not going to do it. :: She pushed the PADD back across the table without looking at the contents. :: Jolara: Not interested. N’Toth: You have to. All work and no play is making you… ::waving his hand:: meh. :: Rune [...]ed her head to the side as her brows grew together. :: Jolara: Meh? What is meh? N’Toth: Dull, grumpy… among other things… Worse than usual. ::He picked up the PADD and activated it. Turning it around so she could see the screen, he scrolled through photos and local information.:: There’s skiing… or rather the Losarian form of skiing, ice skating, sledding. ::He grinned and looked at Krystyan who was leaning as far over as possible to see the pictures.:: He would love sledding I bet. Krystyan: YA! Wan go swedding. Jolara: No. It is too cold. Krystyan: Wan go swedding! Wan go swedding! N’Toth: Come on. It’ll be fun and good for both of you to get some fresh air. ::Pointing at the PADD.:: Or you could go hiking. I know you like hiking. Jolara: I like hiking… ::leaning over:: when it is WARM. I do not like cold. It hurts. :: Her jaw clenched. She had been looking forward to going planetside for some sun and fresh air. But that was before she knew the entire planet was freezing. Not all Al-Leyans were adverse to cooler temperatures but the majority were and for once Rune was among the majority. :: Krystyan: ::louder and slapping his hands down on the table:: Wan go swedding! :: Rune grabbed Krystyan’s hands. :: Jolara: By the branch! Do not do that! :: The moment the words were out and her son’s expression changed from happy to crying, she regretted it. She took a breath and let it out, releasing his hands at the same time. :: Jolara: ::softer, wiping away his tears:: I am sorry. Do not cry. Please. ::to N’Toth:: This is your fault. :: N’Toth shook his thick blue skull. :: N’Toth: You did this all on your own. Further proof you need to go down there. Maybe freezing your a… ::Rune raised an eyebrow.:: butt off will do you some good. Krystyan: ::his little lower lip quivering, tears flooding his deep blue eyes:: Pwease mommy? :: Rune sucked in a breath. She still couldn’t handle when Krystyan cried. Even less so when she had caused it. :: Jolara: Fine. We will go sledding. oOBesides, it will give me an excuse not to see T’Lea just yet.Oo :: Krystyan’s expression immediately brightened, all thoughts of crying forgotten. He let out a squeal. She gave N’Toth a look that said she would kill him if she froze to death. ::

Well whatever they're playing, it looks rather familiar somehow, somewhere @Jo Marshall. ((Cargo Bay, Deck Six, USS Gorkon)) ::Vorin sat in his regular chair - the spot he always took up when it came to gaming night - however, that night was unlike any other. For the first time, the group would not be playing. Chris was away, and as the regularly scheduled Dungeon Master, the plot would surely take a downward spiral if anyone else were to step into his shoes. Not that Vorin wasn't tempted. He had long, concocted plans of how *he* would run a game one evening if he was given the opportunity to do so, but for some incomprehensible reason, there had been some reluctance to run through the "dungeon" of the Vulcan Science Academy initiation program. ::He looked up as the door opened. His colleague Jimothy - Human, no last name, apparently like a twentieth-century entertainer - strode inside, accompanied by Sen Baidan and Robert Peek, bringing with them a host of replicated food in trays that would have sustained their appetites for the evening. Vorin huffed with an exhale from his nose. Clearly, his informational message had not been received.:: Vorin: Chris is not--- Jimothy: We know. We figured we'd do something else, ja? ::His shoulders shrugged up and slipped into the chair usually reserved for the Petty Officer, chewing noisily on a slice of something crusted, dropping crumbs onto the makeshift container table. Vorin squinted his eyes at him for a long moment, trying to work out if the known-Casanova was about to elaborate on the comment. Evidently not. He turned to Baidan.:: Baidan: We have a new game. Peek: It's a good one! I've been playing for days. ::He smiled, chewing on something just as crusty, talking around the noise.:: There's no board though. Vorin: I fail to see the--- Baidan: It is about the Nyberrite Alliance. ::Vorin's ears [...]ed up and the corners of Sen's lips turned upwards.:: I thought that may be agreeable to you. Vorin: Elaborate. ::The tone was an inquisitive one, not demanding, and as Sen sat himself down at their table, he slid his PADD across the top. On it was a series of messages, no one unlike the other, with a flow of text styles and formatting that seemed to make little sense. Vorin picked it up, and with a frown, began to read through it.:: Jimothy: Ja, there's like... ::Another crunch. Vorin felt he would need to kill him.:: ...characters, right. You make a character and then you write their story, and others reply. Vorin: "Others reply?" ::The air quotes were as evident in his gentle Vulcan tonal range. His eyes darted to the PADD again as several more messages started to filter in, each one of them seemed to further the plot of whatever had captured the fancy of this group of players. Pilots, engineers, tacticians; someone had written for a pirate, a captain, and someone else had written a scientist. Vorin frowned, wondering what the Nyberrite Alliance had use of a scientist for.:: Vorin: Who are the other players? Jimothy: Ja, everyone! ::He flung his arms out, slapping the crusty food nodule into Peek's head, though it was like throwing rocks at a mountain.:: Lower decks mainly, but we think that... ::He scratched his face.:: Rob, what's the guy called? ::Peek, who had been scratching at an invisible itch somewhere in the air around his bicep, seemed to brighten at being asked for his contribution to the conversation.:: Peek: Lieutenant Kian? Jimothy: Ja, that's him. We think he is writing for Streak - the pulsar pilot and interplanetary war veteran. There is a shirt ripped almost every campaign. Baidan: I do have a character free if you would like to take it over. He does only speak in haikus, however. ::The frown hadn't yet slid from Vorin's face as he flicked through the reams of messages coming through in the PADD. It was anonymous - no one entered their actual name to their messages but signed off as their character. Passing the PADD back over to Sen, he tapped momentarily on the top of it and inquired.:: Vorin: Why the Nyberrite Alliance? ::Sen brightened again, ears wiggling, which was as usual unnerving, though Vorin would not be able to articulate why and refused to give much thought to it.:: Baidan: It is a Space Adventure! Vorin: You live, and work, in space. Peek: Yeah but this is fun! I mean, this is pretty dull, isn't it? Going to a conference. It's not like the ship is being molested by an energy tentacle, or being attacked by pirates, or hitting space icebergs, or... Vorin: There is no such thing as a space iceberg. Peek: ...battling barbarian aliens from the outer rim, or crawling over shipwrecks, or ghost towns, or plague-infested towns, or attacks on Station Aspodèle, or everything is on fire, or... ::Vorin angled an eyebrow. Perhaps it would be interesting. At least until Chris returned from his supposedly tedious excursion to New Horizon.:: ---- NPCs The Role Players Crewman Jimothy, Scientist Ensign Sen Baidan, Comms Specialist PO Third-Class Robert Peek, Engineering Yeoman Lieutenant JG Vorin, Biologist simmed by Lt. Commander Jo Marshall First Officer USS Gorkon G239304JM0

This is the first part of their JP and I love the romance in it. They've built up the tension nicely. I could really feel @Lael Rosek 's pain, fear, and anger but most of all their growing love for each other. I adore how @German Galven remains the calm, gentleman he is! Well done ❤️ ((Tribble B Lounge, Deck 2, USS Montreal)) ::German was still feeling out of sorts through his ordeal with being under the virus and haven’t had much to contribute to the mission other than his department pulling through. He was extremely grateful for Stennin as well as Munger who made herself acting chief which showed a level of commitment. However, the dream. Had it been a dream or was he actually in the Unimatrix? It all felt too real and even Arlil felt real, but after the nano tech was removed by Lael, any effort in trying to get back was null.:: ::He did, however, feel relieved that his sister was still out there. Wherever or whenever she was. Once he was out of thoughts to think of, he noticed he had wandered into the lounge. He guessed that his mind was telling him to get a good stiff drink. As he approached the bar, he ordered his usual which was a Cardassian Sunrise, then sat down.:: ::She was only here because she didn’t want to delve into her good bourbon. It would be a waste given that she wouldn’t taste anything after her second glass. She sat at a table in the far corner facing the wall with a couple of glasses turned on their rims, empty, nursing a third glass. In her hands was a PADD connected to a wireless pair of earpieces. It was currently blasting Muse as loud as she could tolerate, though the tech kept the loud, ear-splitting music from disturbing those around her. Taking another large drink from her glass of bourbon, she allowed herself to get lost in the lyrics. It was her escape when life became too much and after that last mission, she was needing it.:: ::Once he had taken a few generous swigs, he sighed and then turned his head to glance around the room. He didn’t see anyone until his vision spotted someone lurking in the corner with their back to the corner. He leaned in and squinted his eyes hoping to get a better look at who it was. He determined who it was by the blonde hair. Lael. After he awoke he hadn’t seen her since she left and they hadn’t really talked afterward. He turned, then grabbed his drink. When he got up from his chair, he approached her knowing she could probably hear him due to her powerful hearing.:: Galven: Lael? ::Apparently, she didn’t hear him when he saw that she was wearing earpieces. Now this was a mission in itself hoping not to scare the woman. He then thought about the next best thing. He walked around the table and sat down facing her. He took a drink and sat it down in her view.:: ::When she caught sight of him, she tensed, smashing her thumb hard into the command that would stop the music before removing the earpieces. Her gaze dropped to her glass for a moment before her gaze lifted to meet his. She opened her mouth to speak, but was lost for words. Shaking her head, she took down the rest of her drink before slamming the glass back down on the table hard enough that a small piece chipped off the rim. Without waiting for his response, she grabbed the PADD and stormed for the door, pressing her thumb to the PADD the bartender on shift shoved in her direction before making a quick exit into the corridor.:: ::Her actions confused the Denobulan. Watching her react in such a way made him realize that something was bothering her. Most likely the dress down she gave him in the ready room before he collapsed. He scratched his head as he got up to go after her. The bartender looked like he knew what that was all about as he folded his arms and looked at him with an arched eyebrow. German shrugged as we ran by and looked both ways out the door and noticed Lael was heading for the turbolift. He caught up to her just in time as the door closed. He bent over catching his breath and put a hand up on the wall to catch himself.:: Galven: ::breathes:: Lael::beat::We need::beat::to talk. Is this about::beat::when I questioned you on the bridge? ((Corridors)) ::She tensed, but kept walking until she reached a hidden alcove. She reached out, grabbing him by the arm, then tugged him in roughly after her. Once she had him there, she did two things in quick succession: she slapped him hard across the face and then pulled him to her, gripping the sides of his face tightly as she slammed her mouth into his, softening her assault only slightly before pulling back panting heavily.:: ::It wasn’t until she reached a hand up to wipe the blood from the corner of her lip where she’d bitten it that she realized tears were streaming down her cheeks against her will. She grimaced, her gaze dropping from his as she turned, presenting him with her back, trying to get the tempest of emotions back under control.:: ::With such a force of the slap and then the assaulted kiss, he didn’t know what to do. He brought up his hand to his cheek and felt a it had already bruised. He winced as he rubbed it. He guessed that he deserved that, but the kiss. All the while it was nice, but the way she kissed him after she slapped him made him in a complete daze. He then figured out what was wrong. He had been out of it under the spell of a deadly virus.:: ::He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, but there was resistance. With his foot more forward than the other, he centered himself and grabbed her shoulder harder which pulled her around and he planted a kiss of his own on her lips. After a few moments, he pulled back and placed both of his hands on her shoulders, then gazed into her eyes. She looked so distraught and there was just a hint of something else.:: Galven: ::murmurs:: Speak to me. ::She sighed, giving in to him, and leaned her forehead against his, closing her eyes. The relief was instant. He was alive. She could hear his voice. She slid a hand up his arm. She could feel him. The familiar scent of his vanilla cologne combined with his natural male musk assaulted her nostrils. By nature of her Al-Leyan heritage, her sense of smell was almost nonexistent; but for some reason she couldn’t quite explain, she was acutely aware of his scent. There were times when she could tell he’d entered the room by that scent alone.:: Rosek: ::bites back a sob and breathes:: I thought you were dead. ::The tears began anew and she tilted her head up again to seek out his lips, her kiss more tender this time. Once, twice, thrice she brushed her lips against his before shifting to bury her face in his neck, her arms wrapping around his upper torso, her hands then resting on his shoulder blades, hugging him tightly to her.:: ::Now it was coming into full circle. He couldn’t imagine thinking the worst if Lael had been in his shoes. With her body so tightly around him, he brought his arms up and hugged her tight. Not wanting to let go. His chin resting atop her head and then rubbed her back. She cared for him, but he hadn’t realized how much until that moment. His eyes started to well up with tears and he took a breath, then cleared his throat.:: Galven: I’m sorry Lael. I didn’t know what happened until after I woke up. I can’t imagine what it was like for you. Rosek: ::murmurs:: I--All those people in the medical center potentially dead and the only thing I could think of was you. I wanted to run to you, but...I was afraid of what I’d find if I did. Besides, the crew needed me to keep a level head. I-- Galven: From what I read in the reports, you did a tremendous job, Lael. You’re a lot stronger than you think and I’m not upset that you didn’t run to me. Rosek: ::pauses:: I--I don’t want to be alone right now. I-- ::moistens her lips and tightens her grip on his hand, then murmurs in a low voice:: I need you, German. ::From the way she was responding and her body language, he had a feeling where this was going. Months of leading up to this with sexual tension, but now...It didn’t feel right. Especially with them hiding in a alcove. He wanted it to be somewhere special. He brought up his free hand to rub her cheek.:: Galven: ::brushes his lips against hers:: I need you too. God, do I ever. ::pauses:: But you wanted to wait. ::She sighed. He was right. The only reason she was so desperate for it right now was because of the emotional upheaval of the last few days. She’d been subjected to unnecessary grief. Hearing those painful words from that vile woman’s mouth had turned her world upside down in a nanosecond. But because she’d been on the bridge, she hadn’t been able to fully take in what she was feeling. Instead, she’d shut it off like a good little robot and had focused instead on bringing Lenik and the Klingon woman to justice.:: Rosek: ::murmurs:: You’re right. ::pauses:: We don’t have to--but...can you sleep with me? I mean actually sleep. I won’t try anything. I just--I feel like if you’re there with me, I won’t have the nightmares. Galven: ::smiles softly:: I knew what you meant and I won’t try anything as well. Does this mean we’re ready to take the next step in our relationship and make it official? Rosek: ::laughs softly:: It’s a step. ::smiles sheepishly:: It’ll certainly be different. I’ve never slept in a bed with a man without--Well, except Chythar when he was really lonely and missing Alex. ---- Lieutenant German Galven Chief Science Officer 6reatDane@gmail.com USS Montreal NC64927 V239507GG0 & Lieutenant Commander Lael Rosek Executive Officer USS Montreal NC64927 I238110RH0

In a huge show of support, a bunch of community members jumped in to donate in the last month to get us over our 2019 fundraising goal! Our official goal was $1,455, and we’re now at $1,567 – 108% of our goal. The extra money over the goal will be deposited in our savings account to be used either for next year’s campaign (starting on May 1, 2019 and ending on May 1, 2020), or for unforeseen expenses in the coming year. Huge thanks to Oddas Aria, Rune Jolara, Emily Mutch, Geoffrey Teller, Tiria Hamasaki, and Corliss Fortune who took us over the finish line for this year by donating in the last month. And many thanks to all those who gave over the last year. Everyone who donated received a special donor badge for their wiki profile, as well as forum title denoting that they’re a community supporter. Our next donation campaign begins on May 1st of this year, when our hosting bill comes due and we pay out a large part of the funds we raised in the last year. Then we start the campaign fresh as we countdown toward the next deadline. If you’d like to help us get a jumpstart on the 2020 campaign, head to the donations page now – it only takes a few moments and your donations is processed securely through Stripe. Every dime of our donations go toward keeping our website online and paying for the various software required to run our community. You can read more about the total bill of costs on the donations page, and see how much we pay for everything. The post Smashed our 2019 fundraising goal! appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

Hello everyone! My name is John, I hail from the Great State of Texas. I came across the site for the Federation News Service one day and that led me here so I am going to give this a try. I have been a Trek fan all my life, starting with TNG and through to the rest, I am an experienced roleplayer, though I haven't done anything Trek before so we'll try to adapt to this style for it. I decided to make a Tellarite character because I didn't come across any others in the community, so I will try my best to make him argumentive and somewhat stuck up, don't take it personally.

As more and more people on the USS Columbia grow facial hair, ensign @Jona ch'Ranni ponders over the trend. Jona, this was a humorous read and I loved how you managed to express Jona's thoughts so well! ❤️ *** ((Jona ch'Ranni's Quarters, Deck 20, USS Columbia)) :: Jona entered his quarters and collapsed on the bunk. It had been a long day and he could no longer fight off the sleep that his body so desperately wanted. The room was a mess. Tri-dimensional chess pieces still littered the floor from the shaking of the attacks the Columbia had sustained earlier in the day. Several PADDs had joined the pawns and bishops ignominiously lying there on the carpet but Jona couldn't muster the energy to care at the moment. Perhaps in a few hours.:: Computer: 0600 hours. :: Jona's ice blue eyes popped open and he sat upright, almost slamming his forehead into the base of the bunk above him.:: ch'Ranni: Did I really just sleep for 8 hours? It doesn't feel like it. Computer: Internal sensors indicate that sleep period lasted 7 hours 47 minutes 10 sec... ch'Ranni: ::dryly:: Thank you, Computer. Most helpful. :: He rose from the bed and stretched his back and neck muscles. Padding over to the washroom, he stepped on a queen chess piece and cursed softly to himself. He entered the small compartment and blinked his eyes at the bright light in the room. He grabbed up the electronic shaver automatically and looked at himself in the mirror. Fine white stubble had formed at the jawline and around his mouth just as it did every morning. He paused for a moment with the razor inches from his face.:: ch'Ranni: oO Funny. I've never really thought about it. Facial hair isn't all that common of a grooming choice for most Andorians. The captain and first officer both started growing full beards and it completely changes their looks. Very distinguished. Oo :: Jona thought to himself that it wouldn't be unlikely that others aboard might follow suit. There might even be a whole ship-wide trend toward the look. He hesitated and began to lower the razor.:: ch'Ranni: oO Maybe it will become the standard of the fleet and I'll be seen as the weird one. The one ensign who refused to grow his mustache and beard like a good officer. Ensign Naked-Face. Passed over for promotions, relegated to piloting supply shuttles and workbees for the repair crews. Slowly and utterly forgotten. Oo :: Jona stood staring at himself in the mirror. Was he really even of an value to his crewmates and the fleet as a whole if he did not conform to expected standards? It would be seen as a distraction. Didn't he owe his very best to Whittaker and Thoran and all the rest to be his very best? And what of the newer crew that arrived from time to time? They needed role models to pattern themselves after. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link and Jona knew that he didn't want to be labeled as that weakest link. If that meant forgoing small preferences in grooming choices he was prepared to make those adjustments. For the good of the ship, for the good of the fleet. He stood determinedly before his reflection with a look of seriousness that belied his relative youth.:: :: Slowly a smile crossed his face. :: ch'Ranni: Nope. :: He clicked the razor on and began his morning routine.:: -- Ensign Jona ch'Ranni Helm Officer USS Columbia (NCC-85279) C239510JC0

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 JG Groznin Smith playing a Human/Denobulan hybrid male tactical officer assigned to the USS Gorkon. GALVEN: Thank you for taking the time to do an interview with me. Could you tell us a little about yourself for our readers out there? SMITH: Thanks for the chance to do this interview. My names Zech, I’m 18 and from England. I’m an avid Star Trek fan and have watched almost everything. I have two more canon films and the JJverse films and then I will have watched everything in just over 2-3 years I can’t remember. Out of all the permitted species listed on the wiki, did you take any inspiration from any film/TV show/book when you chose to play a Denobulan? Yes. Dr. Phlox is one of my favourite characters in Star Trek. He is really interesting as is his species (Denobulan) I wanted to explore them further and develop them more as apart from in Enterprise we don’t see them. Since then I’ve, with the help of yourself and another one of the Denobulans Pholin Duyzer, we have created the entire planet of Denobula and even gone into a little bit of history on the planet which was super fun. The Xalor Clan Xifilis Award is awarded to any simmer that overcomes any kind of disadvantage while simming. What is that disadvantage and does it give you all the more enthusiasm and drive to write even more? Well I am disabled, as I’ve shared in the Discord I have multiple problems mostly surrounding my legs. I have a drive to write as it gives me something to do other than play video games and watch TV. I don’t get out much due to my conditions so having something that’s so much fun to take part in is really fun and I enjoy it so much. Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds presented that award to you as well as saying that you’re open and candid about your disability. Why do you feel it’s important for you to express that? I don’t like hiding the fact I have a disability. There’s people that do and I respect why they’ve chosen to but personally I like to let people know. It’s… part of me I guess and well it’s always going to be a part of me and it’s interesting to talk about and quite the conversation starter. There’s a quote I think that describes what I’m trying to say perfectly. It’s Look past the disability and see the ability. If anyone has questions please don’t hesitate to ask me I don’t mind talking about it. You’re extremely active OOC and are on Discord numerous occasions. What’s been your favorite part of being with the community so far? It has to be the community. Everyone is so kind, and helpful. There’s a respect between us all that spreads across so many cultures and faiths. It’s just nice how we can all look past it all and just enjoy writing about a programme that brings as all together to create this amazing community and I’m so happy I’m apart of it. And finally, you actually invited me as well as a few others to 118, do you have any advice for anyone that’s interesting in joining our community? Just do it! We’re a friendly bunch and we don’t bite in all seriousness though this is such a fun place and community to be apart of, everyone is so welcoming and as I said friendly. Just don’t let Sevo experiment on you Thanks for your time, Lieutenant JG Smith! You can read more about Lieutenant JG Groznin Smith on the wiki. The post Lower Decks Interview: Lieutenant JG Groznin Smith, USS Gorkon appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

I am happy to say though that version 3.0 of the sims archive is in its final stages of development, with a tentative release in April. That being said, A LOT of work is being done behind the scenes and we must make major changes to the way the code works. We are now at the stage where the archive has to be turned off for the work to be completed. Starting March 1st, 2019, the archive will be put into maintenance mode and will stay there until around the first or second week of April. You will not be able to utilize it until I get things back up and running. Of course, no sims will be lost – all of our sims still exist in our database, we will continue to collect new sims, and you can always find your sims on your ship’s Google Group archive. None of the links existing will work after the upgrade, unfortunately, so sim links will have to be replaced. The goal with this last patch is to make sure that we do not have to deal with this type of change again. Thank you very much for your understanding! If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to reach out to Captain Nugra through Discord chat. The post March 1st – Sims Archive will be deactivated temporarily for version 3 upgrade appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

Hi Everyone, I'm looking for a robust, friendly RPG and found you via Google. I've been an active member of another RPG for over a decade, advancing through the ranks to Captain of two different ships; Ambassador and Sovereign class. Including a stint on their Council, Academy CO and Academy instructor. I'm experienced and would be happy to contribute in any capacity needed, but I'm an engineer and command crew member at heart. Steve, AKA, Steven Matrix.

Please welcome our newest Academy graduates to the UFOP: StarBase 118 fleet: Ben Burns, Ben Garcia, Addison MacKenzie, Steven Matrix, M’Wash, and Carmen Tis! The post New Academy Graduates appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article

G'day guys my name is James Miller. About 6 months ago I moved to Nevada, Missouri, U.S.A all the way from Bacchus Marsh, Victoria, Australia to get married and while the small town took a bit to get used to, I've been loving it over here, especially the winter weather. As an aussie i'd never really seen snow before. I found this site through a google search of Star Trek rp groups. I've been big into roleplay for a few years now but haven't been able to do a lot of it since moving. The first time was with a Star Wars roleplay group, the Dark Jedi Brotherhood, and from there it expanded to things like Dungeons and Dragons (something i need to find a group to play with over here in the states). I'm currently unemployed as part of the immigration process however once the paperwork is finalized i'll likely be working at a 3M factory along with my husband. I'm looking forward to meeting and roleplaying with you all, thanks for accepting the application.

((Okay, I’m sorry about this little note, but I was reading some of the content in the forum before mine, and it seems that there was another “Cadet Collins” that was posted Nov. 30. My character is not supposed to be related to Quentin Collins III, thought I should mention that. Just a coincidence that the last names are the same!)) Jo hated shuttle rides in space. Sure, the likelihood of actually crashing or something going wrong was almost zip, but that didn’t stop Dr. Arika Jojovich-Collins from almost bolting off of the transport craft. Solid ground is a blessing, she reminded herself as she straightened her uniform and retrieved her bag from storage outside of the shuttle. Her coppery-blonde hair had been twisted into two Dutch braids and pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck by her Academy roommate before she left Earth, but a few unruly wisps still hung in front of her face as she bent down to get her stuff. Intelligent green eyes searched the bustle of people at the dock of StarBase 118. Other uniform-clad cadets of every shape, size, and color bustled through the crowded space, and Jo took comfort in the fact that it was very unlikely that anyone would pay special attention to a 1.73 meter, average cadet like herself. She felt a little old for the crowd, though she was only 27, but reminded herself again that the 5 years of university and earning her medical license set her apart from the other cadets in field experience too, not just in age. She knew what being the “odd one out” felt like: graduating from high school at 15 left her feeling alienated and skittish (because she was a pretty girl, and pretty girls still had to be pretty careful when alone on college campuses and in big cities) during her time alone at Harvard and Harvard Medical. She had good childhood friends that she kept in contact with while she was away, though, so she didn’t feel as lonely as she could have felt. Jo was able to admit to herself that she wasn’t like most of the cadets shuffling through the base. She hadn’t dreamed of the stars when she was young. If she was really honest, her father Dr. Jojovich had scared it out of her. His years in the Fleet found him in bed with someone who was definitely not her mother, Jean Collins, a xenobiologist in Seattle where she’d grown up. Jo’s birth certificate read both of their last names, and her first name Arika, which had been chosen by her father. Her friends had called her Jo or Jojo since she was young, seldom did anyone use her real first name. She’d also asked that she be referred to as Dr. Collins or Cadet Collins when it came to formalities. So why did she join the Fleet, if she had never envisioned herself doing so? As it were, Jo was incredibly lucky. Through her connections at Harvard Medical, her father’s and her own alma mater, and her mother, she landed an internship with a “galaxy-renowned” xenoanatomical researcher through whom she received her license to practice on both the people of Earth and a plethora of other humanoid species. Her mentor pushed her to join Star Fleet to exercise her expertise, and though she was wary of the idea, she enlisted. But none of that mattered, really, when she was surrounded by people that she didn’t know, and she settled to walk out into the main part of the base alone, awaiting in both excitement and trepidation for the adventures that were sure to come.

Thanks @German Galven and @Wallace Williams for the kind words. It amazes me how good I am at describing emotions when my own are a dead end. Oh well. Thanks again.

OOC:- I just want to apologise to anyone who has a Chihuahua. I’m sorry but they give me the chills. (( Embassy Medical Centre - Duronis II )) (( Surgical area )) Lisa walked along the corridor and noticed two nurses limping. One also had a bandaged hand. Nurse 1: They only allow it in the room because she is matey with the Chief Surgeon. Lisa: What and who? Nurse 2: Mrs Van Peltz, Lisa: She did that to your hand and legs? Nurse 1: No. Mr Pom her dog, Lisa moved towards the observation window. Bubbles Van Peltz was laying in bed , dozing. Suddenly something jumped up at the window. Making Lisa step backwards in alarm. At first she was reminded of a very old movie. She had once seen on Earth. About a rather nasty Alien with a load of very sharp teeth. The small dog had large protruding eyes pointed ears and a pair of nasty sharp little teeth. The growl that came from it. Seemed to belong to a creature. Twice the animals size. It stared at Lisa bearing those teeth. The creature snapped at the window. Falling off the ledge. It jumped up again growling. The Chihuahua continued to jump at the window. Falling off the ledge each time. She pulled a face at it. Making the tiny biting machine more enraged. Nurse 2: Great now it will never let us in there! Lisa: Then do what my Uncle usually does. Use a phaser set on stun. Nurse 1: Isn’t that a bit cruel? Lisa: No. Cruel is giving it an injection of animal laxatives. While it’s twitching on the floor. Ensign Lisa Tracy Hendon Head Nurse USS Thunder Author ID:- W237809SP0

MSPNPC Arbitrator Parven Try'vel - Welcoming committee of one ((Beta Quadrant, Par'tha Expanse, Illara Prime, Diplomatic Landing Pad Delta)) :: Parven had received word that the Federation shuttle had been detected by the system patrol ships and was descending towards the city-planet with the haste one would expect from a group posting such serious claims against one of the more well known and respected businesses within the Expanse. That they had arrived several hours early had been unexpected however and had been of a slight inconvenience as he had been enjoying quite the relaxing time in the fashion district when word came of their imminent arrival an hour or so later and Parven just had to have enough time to make himself look presentable. :: :: Ever prompt Parven had arrived on the landing pad several minutes prior to the El Dorado's descent into the atmosphere and the Caraadian stared up at it as the sleek vessel alighted on the pad with ease, its landing struts absorbing the weight of the shuttle itself as it settled on the pad. Parven casually strode around to the rear of the shuttle, the aft he believed it was referred to as the rear ramp lowered into place. A moment later the crew within emerged and Parven was delighted to see a familiar face, even though he knew she was among the delegation. Seeing Lyldra the Caraadian smiled the over extravagant smile one used to pomp and circumstance preferred. With her he noted another, somewhat portly Bolian in Starfleet uniform of crimson highlights. From his knowledge, the male matched description of the renowned commander of the Federation's lone starship in the Expanse. Behind the Bolians Parven noted a pair of Terrans, one in gold and one in teal. Though he wasn't overly certain of the significance of their colors. The arbitrator did notice the sidearms both the male Bolian and the female in gold carried openly on their hips. Such was the right of dignitaries and he found it amusing in a way. None here would question the weapons, though many might find it entertaining to see such meager weapons being displayed as if marks of honor. :: :: As for the Caraadian himself, to say he was flashy was more than an understatement. He wasn't overly tall, standing somewhere between five and six feet in height was the least remarkable thing about him. Shoulder length blonde hair rested about his shoulders, billowing in the breeze from the winds roiling about on the landing pad. At least, there was enough blonde noticeable that one could tell that was possibly his natural hair color. At first blush it might not be so easy a thing to peg as vibrant streaks of silver, teal, and bright blue seemed dyed into the man's hair like a resplendent rainbow of eye-catching hues. Still, that was only one of the notable things about the male. His garb, if one could describe it in words looked like a tailor had taken the scraps of a half dozen different discarded outfits, or the scraps that had not gone into the final product and stitched them together in a rather odd, but well manufactured canvas of at least three different fabrics. Some of the suit he wore was at strange angles and might have gotten in the way had they not been made of soft material. The suit had as many colors as his hair, purple, deep green and orange highlights. The emblem of Arbitrator was sewn into the left breast of his clothing. And then there were the frills. So many frills. He looked like a walking pillowcase. And even it had a stylistic edge to insignia itself. Every hand had a ring, some gem encrusted, some not but all of them excessively ostentatious. Yet as he stepped up to greet Lyldra when she exited the craft his eyes would be the last thing of note. The unnatural heterochromatic tint of his eyes, contacts of course though they were hard to spot. The right eye a pupil-less silver, while the left was a vivid forest green. Parven outstretched his arms to his sides and in the air slightly in an overly dramatic flourish as he greeted them all. :: Try'vel: ::His voice a soft baritone:: Ah! Lyldra! It's such a delight to finally get to meet you! ::He gestured to them all with his hands beckoning them all to come closer:: Welcome to Illara Prime! Lyldra: Good to meet you in person. ::Looking to the others.:: This is Try’Vel is the arbiter who will be hearing our argument against the Consortium. :: Parven saw the looks he received from the gather Starfleet officers and let out a raucous roil of laughter then clasped his hands together so all of the rings clinked together and were quite visible. :: Brell: Ah, Nice to meet you sir. I look forward to your judgment in this matter. Try'vel: Oh, my dear Captain it's a pleasure! I had no idea the person speaking at this arbitration would be the Ambassador's own husband. I must say, the Federation knows how to keep their people well fed! ::He laughed and waved a hand dismissively:: Parven Try'vel, House Lanaxa. Well, formerly. ::He cackled and expressively waved his hands about in an exaggerated manner:: Hyden: :smiled: Pleasure to meet you. Anyone: Response Try'vel: Oh, the pleasure is all mine. ::He said with a bit of a lascivious curl to his lips as he scooted closer to Hyden:: I dare say I haven't seen such a lovely woman so well armed since we had a Klingon contingent through here a few years back. ::He clasped his hands together and eyed Hyden's uniform:: I say, it's not very flattering. I know a wonderful tailor that could put some wonderful touches to your uniforms. They're so drab..and....functional. Lyldra: response Try'vel: Oh yes. My apologies, ambassador! You'll forgive me I could talk about fashion all day! ::He made a giggling sound and gestured with a flourish that had his hair and the trails of his suit billowing about behind him:: Please, follow me and I'll see you someplace confortable to await the hearing. :: The Caraadian lead the Federation group from the landing pad through the nearby structure that, like many all over the planet towered in the sky. Several hundred floors at least and in this particular case all housing various diplomatic personnel and facilities. One such locale, a rather luxurious lounge that had a view overlooking a central square of sorts. The communal square was still several thousand feet in the air, but below the view offered by the windows and had the faint, ant-like shadows of people milling about among the shops and establishments on offer. Across the way was a view of the landing pad where the El Dorado was parked and several other spectacular views. Parven stopped centrally in the room and spun about as if he were on a fashion runway, palms open and gesturing around the well furnished room. Several couches, chairs, tables and even a bar with a wide assortment of libations sat at the back. A communication console sat on the wall opposite the floor to ceiling windows. :: Try'vel: Your accommodations! Splendid isn't it? I mean, I'm sure it must be horribly drab and cramped on those starships of yours yes? ::He said in genuine ignorance:: Well, the proceedings are to take place within the hour. I've already contacted the Consortium's representative and notified him of your arrival. As soon as the Phoenix arrives and it's commander lands we can begin. Anyone: response ========================================================= MSPNPC Parven Try'vel of House Lanaxa (Formerly) Freeworlds Council - Arbitrator as simmed by Lieutenant Commander Toryn Raga Mission Specialist USS Atlantis NCC-74682 PodCast Team Atlantis Staff Member Writer ID: A239410TR0 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Toryn_Raga @Toryn Raga This was one of the most humorous introductions of MSPNPC ever!

((Stationside – The Brewhaus Gastopub)) ::Why were relationships hard? Why was talking hard when one felt stupid about something? He was Wyn Foster. He had this façade that nothing was hard unless it was heroic. Laboring over how best to explain his feelings for a longtime friend was not heroic. It was just… awkward.:: Foster: So yeah, half of me is elated by this new possibility because you’re cool and I like you and half of me is feeling that I’m a complete moron. ::he paused an added with a mutter.:: And I hate feeling stupid. Blackwell:::At first a tinge of pink appeared when he called her cool…she felt giddy and light from the beer combined with the emotions, but as he dropped his voice, she furrowed her brow at that and moved to sit closer to him in the booth:: Oh Wyn….First off, you are not -stupid-. you are not the only person…human or not, to miss cues some think are obvious. Even I miss cues that I should have seen…hindsight is 20/20 and besides, I shouldn’t have asked it like that. I tend to think I’m just…I don’t know, obvious. See it this way, Saveron..only knew my mind once I told him…so…:: She shrugged:: I guess sometimes I’m better than I know at pushing down things. ::Well if Saveron missed it, maybe it was excusable? Wyn leaned forward letting his antennae rock back and forth, absorbing all this information. It was still a lot to take in.:: Foster: I guess you are. ::He admitted in something of a compliment. Not the best compliment mind you, but he was pretty impressed. It meant she had another layer of subtlety that was previously unrecognized.:: Still begs the question why? ::Yep and still no pulling punches. He wanted – perhaps needed – more information and he wasn’t above being sassy to get it.:: Blackwell: As I’ve said: fear. I convince myself that…confessing those sort of things to people will just go badly, and there have been times I’ve irritated you ::She eyed him for a moment with a crooked grin:: Anyways…I just got …somewhere along the way, good at compartmentalizing at times…even if there are points where my mental boxes are occasionally a troublesome Pandora’s box for the opening. Either way…don’t feel stupid. ::She put her hand on his arm:: What counts is that we are here now… ::She could feel two things – first, her heart beating just a bit faster despite sitting, and she couldn’t tell if it was her body working to burn off the alcohol, or simple the fact she was so close to him now that she could see the way the light caught his eyes and hair. She slowly slid her hand down his arm and took his hand in hers. Her green eyes met his and then she brought his hand to her lips and kissed it gently:: Let’s not dwell on what could have been or what should have been…and accept that..maybe things just sometimes fall into place a little later than anyone would like…and that might make it all the sweeter. ::Wyn had been about to sass back that everyone irritated him at one point or another, up to and including himself. Irritation was a fact of life even – or especially – in ones you loved. But then she touched him. There were a few things that Wyn hated to admit because, being raised by Terran – subsect: American – cultural standards they communicated weakness. But they were things that his Andorian biology craved. Touch was one of the biggest ones. Andorian homes were small to conserve heat, and families included quads and multi-generations. Many people sharing heat meant a lot of close contact was simply natural. Take that away and you ended up with a man who wanted something without realizing it or even understanding why until it happened. His expression warmed gently:: Foster: You know… I like sweetness… ::Real smooth, Wyn. Still, could have been far worse.:: Foster: You sure about this? ::Equally smooth. But honest, checking temperature.:: Blackwell::She leans in, and her voice dropped to whisper warmly to him:: Oh…the beer is making me a little poetic but it isn’t the beer that has me currently intoxicated ::And she leaned in for a gentle kiss on his lips, pulling back only because the waiter came back with their food. She cleared her throat, free hand going to her neck sheepishly and she loosened her grip to release his hand:: ::Saved by the waiter? Or delayed by the waiter? Oh this was going to be one heck of an interesting night. Wyn Foster tended to not regret things and he was steeling himself to not be tentative and not regret anything. So, drink your beer, Wyn and let’s see where this went.:: Foster: Well that was an quite the timing. But hey, with beer goes food. Blackwell:: Oh..I should eat. Lunch was a quick protein bar ::before admitting:: and really it was more ‘brunch’ ::And she started to pick at one of the appetizers before he could protest too much:: ::He started to click his tongue at her and then smiled.:: Foster: Should I chastise you for that? I mean I can… Blackwell:Well, maybe you’ll just need to be around more to make sure I have breakfast ::she said teasingly:: ::Oh, that was innocent, and naughty all at the same time. He had the good graces to tinge faintly navy.:: Foster: Well, then… you know we could plan on that. I’m thinking food, more beer and didn’t I owe you a dance? Then you know, we make sure you get breakfast in the morning. Blackwell: That is what I was hoping you would say… ::He beamed. Glasses clinked. No regrets.:: ~*~ ~fin~ ~*~ Lt. Commander Shar’Wyn Foster Chief Medical Officer USS Eagle "Why do we fly? Because we have dreamt of it for so long that we must" ~Julian Beck E239010ST0