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  1. 3 points
    ((Holodeck, USS Columbia)) ::The cold night air bit at the few areas of skin exposed to it as the pin[...]s of light continued their trek across the sky, oblivious to the scattered movements far below. Gusts drove whispers through the trees, sending darkened leaves into a frenzied dance as they rushed to escape the icy fingers of the darkness. Silent bootsteps fell between the equally feverish swirls of grass blades, giving the impression of dark waves moving swiftly across the land.:: ::In the distance, the singular call of a wolf rang out into the night, howling at a non-existent moon with a mournful feel that traveled for miles. The horizon, dotted by white-capped mountain peaks by day, became a darkened sea of green-turned-black in the dark of midnight, hazily fading land into sky.:: ::Despite the chill, droplets of sweat poured down the hooded face as small clouds of breath found manifestation in the night air. Steadily they came, in time with the footfalls that made no noise, allowing the emergence of a rhythm that could only be described as life. As a heartbeat, one foot hit the ground before the other, one breath hit the air before another, over and over again.:: ::Then, the grass came to an end.:: ::The whispers of the night’s wind remained behind him as he looked out into an even darker pool before him. Everything changed when twilight came for it. The robust greens of the world darkened into greys and blacks with little depth, while the black of Hell’s Half Acre became ever darker and ever more the stuff of nightmares. It was on its edge he now stood, as if standing on the edge of the pit of emptiness.:: ::Having stopped, the temperature finally caught up with him. Drenched from the long run, the wind cut deeper and sent more than a single chill through his bones. Nodding to no one but himself, he took a deep breath and launched forward into the lava fields knowing full well what he was getting into. And just as he had more times than he could count as a teen, Vincent began his trek across the sharp, glassy rocks that had long ago transcended time itself.:: ::The uneven ground presented a difficult path by day, rocky, sharp, and unforgiving in the heat of the midday sun. By night, when the lack of human-capable vision in the dark became his biggest weakness, the path grew downright treacherous. Sudden steps, sideways rocks, sharp outcroppings that seemingly didn’t belong, and a definitive lack of anything plainly horizontal made for a challenge well beyond that any obstacle course could. More than once he’d suffered cuts and bruises, sprains and broken bones, among the dark rocks.:: ::But that had never stopped him.:: ::Like so many nights before, the ex-Marine pushed himself. Faster, harder, further; the dark shades of the leaves, and the way the wind moved through them, were left in the distance like a memory while the basaltic rocks of the ancient lava flow encompassed him completely.:: ::Above, the even more ancient points of light dotted across the sky paid no attention at all to the man, nor the haunting past that chased him across the rocks far below.:: TBC CWO 1st Class Vincent ‘Jonesy’ Jones Diplomatic Security Specialist/SFMC Counter-Intelligence USS Columbia As simmed by: Lieutenant Commander Ash MacKenna Chief Science Officer USS Columbia R238605KN0
  2. 3 points
    Each month, we interview a captain or first officer of the fleet to gain more insight on what it takes to command a ship and learn more about how each of these staff members found their way into these roles. This month, we’re interviewing Commander Mei’konda, the CO of the USS Montreal, one of two new ships launched last month. WOLF: The last time you were here on the news was June 2017 as part of our First Officer in Focus column – welcome back! How have you been since then? MEI’KONDA: I’ve been very well. I found the role of first officer a fun one to play, especially under Rich (Captain Roshanara Rahman), who was and still is a great mentor to me. You’ve just recently launched the USS Montreal as part of a fleet expansion due to an influx of members. How are you settling in to your new role as commanding officer? And what was it like to launch a new ship under these circumstances? This is the first time I’ve been so involved in the launch of a new vessel, and it was pretty chaotic for the first one or two weeks because it was on short notice. But I welcomed that particular challenge, because I felt that if I could handle such a busy launch, I would be able to handle Captaincy itself. Thus far, I’m enjoying the role of commanding officer. I’ve been lucky enough to have some extremely creative writers on my crew, and I can’t wait to see where they take our stories. What’s been the most surprising thing so far about taking the leadership role of a vessel? I haven’t found anything particularly surprising about it – I think Rich, and the role of first officer, prepared me very well for what I’d be having to deal with when I took command. And what’s been most challenging for you personally as you take command? I think the most challenging part has been keeping players engaged and meeting their numbers. Out-of-character communication is very important in this regard, and the frequency with which I need to keep up with it is definitely higher than when I was a first officer. But it’s a good skill set to have to develop! You’ve been a member for a couple years now – and you were previously a member way back in the late 1990s! – tell us a little about your observations of the fleet from these two very different periods. What feels like it’s changed, or stayed the same? Back in the late nineties, when I was a member the first time around, the overall organization of Starbase 118 was much lighter – ships seemed to operate more or less independently, and even though I made it to Lieutenant Commander at that time, I don’t recall having many additional out-of-character responsibilities, such as serving on task forces, like Lieutenants and Lt. Commanders do now. Simming itself hasn’t changed much – but the opportunities in the fleet to help with the organization and to learn and grow as both a person and a player have expanded significantly. Writing in SB118 has helped me in real life to learn how to handle scheduling and communication much better than I could before. Where do you draw your passion and inspiration from when it comes to writing and contributing to the game? For me, the appeal of Star Trek has always been that humanity will move beyond our differences today and achieve something great in the far future, and I find the idea of life aboard a Starship to be as engaging as an exciting mission can be. I enjoy helping other players develop their own stories, and making the ship itself feel like as much of a character as the crew. Thank you so much for your time! You can read more about Cmdr. Mei’konda on the wiki. The post Captain’s Corner: Mei’konda, CO of the USS Montreal appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  3. 2 points
    Lt. JG Choi Ji-hu, you are hereby charged with the following egregious crime; that you did knowingly, and willfully, elicit prolonged and genuine laughter from this writer, on Tuesday, December 18th, 2395. Upon opening the email, the victim came across the best opening he had ever seen in a sim. HOW DO YOU PLEAD, @aphelion?!
  4. 2 points
    ((Transporter Room 4 - USS Constitution)) ::If one wandered into the rarely-used Transporter Room 4 during the Beta shift, they would spy a lean, lanky and tall Grazerite behind the control console. Day in and day out, he stood there, sometimes running minor diagnostics, sometimes rearranging the layout of the LCARS panels, but mostly he ruminated. And the odd time, one would see him at his journal.:: ::An archaic keepsake, that journal. Hide-bound, tied with silk ties, it was emblazoned in gold leaf on its cover in florid Grazerite cursive - "THE STYLISTIC WRITINGS OF THE ESTEEMED MULLAN-ABHA". See, for when Mullan-Abha wasn't running minor diagnostics or rearranging the layout of the LCARS panels, which honestly didn't take hardly any time at all, then there was nothing else to do. It wasn't like he had responsibility for the prestigious Transporter Room 1 or anything, or even Transporter Room 2, which though not as prestigious, still had its charms.:: ::Mullan-Abha didn't mind, though. Blessed with the calm demeanor and easy temperament of his ancestors, he was content just knowing that he could be depended on if Transporter Room 1 failed. And Transporter Room 2. And Transporter Room 3. All at the same time. It was important work, being quaternary in line as a backup. His parents were proud.:: ::Long story short, Mullan-Abha had a lot of free time on his hands. And he fancied himself a bit of a pithy and sharp-witted writer. Just because he was a docile sort didn't mean his wit wasn't as sharp as a razor - after hours of contemplation, of course. So, when the minor diagnostics had been run, and the LCARS panels had been rearranged, and there was little chance of unexpected transporter users (which, let's be honest, was par for the course in Transporter Room 4), Mullan-Abha would crack out his journal, take out his archaic inked stylus from it's worn groove at the spine of the book, and write a pithy short story or poem. Today, he was hard at work at his latest masterpiece.:: ==== T'WAS THE WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS - CONSTITUTION EDITION Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the ship Every creature was stirring, because of a blip An Away mission had been planned out with care But before too long the Away teams weren't there The shuttles were jostled but landed in place Despite a rough landing all had gone apace With dust in the air and a cave very near The teams had gone forth without nary a fear When up on the bridge there arose such a clatter The crew were all gone! No-one knew by what manner The sensors were blinded, the probe was no aid Those left behind felt clueless and dismayed An odd old transmission was all that was heard Static and shadows and all else perturbed When what to the crew's efforts finally appear? Exotic machinery spanning the years Temporal displacement was its main aim Sent to the past, this tech must be to blame More rapid than transporters, shuttles, subspace The teams had been whisked to a new time and place! Now Rajel! now, Lystra! now, Yito and Atan! Gone, Mason! Gone, Saveron! And gone Sh'Thelzan! To the past they have gone! To the far land of Earth! The cause is quite dire, please suspend your mirth! The bridge crew did scramble and fight with the scans The static too random, it messed with their plans Commander Blair sat in the big chair ill-eased Too stoic to show just how much it displeased And then, just like magic, they heard very faint Away team transmissions, an image did paint Of their crew safe and sound, if a little bit lost They had to retrieve them, no matter the cost! So what would they do, could they beam them away? The distortions meant that this wasn't the way A feverish effort to hash out a plan Taxed the brain of every woman and man They had to resort to another shuttle But how to avoid a similar muddle? Metaphasics and displacement shield Untested theories with hope of a yield So now with another Away team at risk Activities aboard the ship are quite brisk Except for a locale where all is a bore Here I am stuck in Transporter Room Four I'll watch from afar and hope for the best The action will go to the best and the rest I'll quietly exclaim as they fly out of sight "Good luck to you all, and have a safe flight!" ==== ::Mullan-Abha lowed quietly in humor as he put away his stylus and closed and tied up his journal, slightly embarrassed to be making light of the current situation... but one could never deny their afflatus, no matter how inappropriate. Yes, a pithy writer he was indeed, though he would never dare show his work to others. His journal was for his eyes only, and he would continue to document the lives of the crew around him, so long as he didn't have a minor diagnostic to run or an LCARS panel to rearrange, of course.:: CPO Mullan-Abha Transporter Chief ~as simmed by~ Commander Tanin Kelbi Operations, USS Constitution A239111MT0
  5. 2 points
    Evelyn sat up straight in her seat as the shuttle made its seemingly long approach to the Starbase 118 spacedock. The approach took roughly five minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. She was so excited to get on with her cadet cruise, and be assigned her first duty station, that the slow pace of the shuttle seemed to take an eternity. Evelyn watched from the viewport as the opening into the massive chasm grew more vast, taking in every detail of the Starbase. She could see the command towers, which were quickly receding from her view as the shuttle closed on its destination. Evelyn Rós was a Cygnian from Cygnet XIV. She had light brown hair that framed the creamy skin of her round face, offset by her dark green eyes, that were slotted like a cat's. She had pale freckles over the bridge of her nose, which was small and impish. Her ears, which Evelyn herself didn't care for, were a bit large, and stuck out from beneath her hair. Her lips were plump with no adornment, and ended in very small dimples. Her frame was lithe, her arms slightly short for a humanoid, but this was hard to tell due to her height, which was somewhat shorter than the average Cygnian. She was used to looking up at most people, and it didn't bother her that she wasn't very strong. Evelyn was sure-footed, no doubt because of the extra balance provided by her thin tail, and was quick and agile, which was helpful in her physical training during the Academy. For four years now, Evelyn had waited, sometimes not so patiently, for this moment. More importantly, for the next step, when she would be assigned to a starship. She wanted to seek out new discoveries on the edges of space, and help to increase the knowledge of all peoples of the Federation. The small fear that she would be assigned to a station instead of a ship throbbed in the back of her mind, but she quieted it. She would worry about that once she finished her cadet cruise. The cadet who sat next to her, a Benzite female in a yellow uniform, leaned over toward Evelyn. “What Academy are you coming from?” She asked. “Earth.” Evelyn replied happily. “Are you not Cygnian?” The Benzite asked. Evelyn was used to being recognized as a Cygnian, and quickly. It was probably because of her tail. She was also used to the questioning attitude that some people took when she told them that she attended Stafleet Academy on Earth. There were much closer campuses than the San Francisco location. “I am, but I spent some time in the Sol system as a child, and I requested to go to the Earth campus.” “Ah. Are you in the medical field?” The curious cadet asked. “No, no. I never had the passion for healthcare, I'm in sciences. What about you?” Evelyn said. “I am an engineer.” The Benzite said simply, in her formal way. Most Benzites seemed to have the same strangeness when it came to speaking with people, like they were almost apologetic for each question. Evelyn paid it no mind. She didn't mind talking to the cadet, but her mind wasn't in the conversation. She was focused on what she was going to do while she waited for her next test to start. “Look, we're landing!” Evelyn said, excitedly. The shuttle didn't so much land, as it connected with the docking tunnel, which provided the ingress path to the station. She listened to the pilot speaking with the station authorities, and watched as the pilot looked over the panels of his station. Of course, he wasn't controlling the shuttle at this point, the station was guiding the shuttle now. Within moments, the pilot stood, and gave them them the “OK,” to disembark. Evelyn almost jumped to her feet, her tail brushing against the Benzite as she turned to gather her pack, and had to restrain herself from running to the exit. She turned back to the other cadet who was quickly falling behind, and waved. “Nice meeting you.” Evelyn was almost bursting to see Starbase 118's top of the line science facilities. She wanted to see the stellar cartography holodisplay, which was supposed to be three decks in size. She wanted to observe the astrogeology labs and study the robotics lab. Most importantly, she wanted to get her hands on the astrophysics equipment. Her hopes were dashed in moments, when she reached deck 550, and the officer at the entrance to the astrophysics lab told her she would not be authorized at this time. She had to complete her training first. It was almost as bad as being told that she was getting ejected from Starfleet. Annoyed, Evelyn found herself wandering the Promenade of the commercial sector, impatiently waiting for the cruise to start. She didn't want to waste time here, looking at tourist attractions. She wanted to immerse herself in the day to day activities of the Starfleet officers who were stationed here, and learn something during her wait. Evelyn's tail whipped left and right as she walked in irritation. Absentmindedly, Evelyn stepped into a bar she found called Keal's Pub. She ordered a Saurian Brandy and sulked in her seat at the bar. She just wanted to get out there, into the blackness of space.
  6. 1 point
    First and foremost, I'd like to thank @FltAdml. Wolf for creating this so many years ago. I wish I had known about this a lot sooner! You have made an amazing world within the Star Trek universe and the community at large is so awesome! I've only seen a little on how things work. I have a feeling I've only scratched the surface and I'm so willing to learn more as I grow here IC and OOC. I'm so honored to part of the Community News Team and humbled that you let me become a part of that as well. @Roshanara Rahman and @Mei'konda. I'm so blessed that I came and started my simming experience with you two. You two have taught me so much and I have yet to take it for granted. Thank you for encouraging me to better myself. I've seen such an improvement over the last few months with my sims concerning my actions! I love reading your posts and how you describe every little detail, I can actually picture what the scene looks and feels like! @Sky Blake Thank you for being my mentor and being there when I needed help with a sim. Also sticking around when I had my meltdowns. I'm a hot mess, I know this. haha You've calmed me down so many times when my anxieties flared up and I can't even thank you enough. You always have the right things to say. @Lael Rosek and @Skyfire You two also helped me a ton when I need help and I'm so forever thankful to you guys encourage me to better myself as a person as well as my characters. I don't know what I'd do without you guys. The Veritas and the Montreal has been everything, but boring when we write scenes together! I also want to give a special shout out to @Ayiana. You were such an amazing trainer. Thank you for being the frontrunner in the tips and advice when I was training. I continue to enjoy our chats on Discord. Glad there's someone that's just as nutty as I am. I mean as German is. Second shout outs to @Jalana and @Jo Marshall Thank you so much for my pictures! I know I get distracted and forget to thank you guys so here's a HUGE THANK YOU! haha More shout outs! @CoryCodeRed @Pholin Duyzer @KDrex @Sotak @Tasha MacFarlane @Randal Shayne @Mirra Ezo @Wallace Williams You guys have so much enthusiasm and it keeps mine flowing all the time! Our chats are nothing, but boring. I'm sure I'm missing others. If you don't see your name, don't get offended too much. I'm a scatter brained scientist. And last, but not least... @Groznin Smith You showed me this little rabbit hole back in the beginning of July and I haven't looked back since! Without you inviting me here, my life would be totally different! Much appreciations go to you as well!
  7. 1 point
    ((Genkos Sim's Quarters, Deck 8. USS Gorkon)) :: Returning back to his quarters from his busy day carrying out medical exams, Genkos plopped his cane into the rack he'd had made specially before plopping himself down on the bed. As much as he fancied sleep, he thought he had better check his messages. Shifting himself over to the monitor, he tapped at a few buttons. There were a couple of messages, one about how the Rangers were going to be folded into the rest of the crew, another about the shift patterns in sick bay, and the last one was from somebody called Tillul Sim.:: oO Dad! Oo ::Reading the message it was an incredibly formal enquiry into Genkos' health and time aboard the Gorkon. Genkos smiled - his father was incredibly personable in real life, but on paper (or PADD) he wrote in an oddly staccato manner. He thought about writing an equally staccato response - mum would like that - but checked the time. He had ages until his next appointment - the CMO had postponed their appointment, so he had the rest of the day off. :: oO Do you know what, I'm going to call them! Oo Genkos: =/\= Computer, connect me to the house of Tillul and Laxe Sim, on Betazed. Put it on my monitor. =/\= :: After a brief pause, his monitor flashed and the friendly face of his father appeared. :: Tillul: Genkos! What a pleasant surprise! Genkos: Well I have some time, thought I'd give you all a call. Tillul: You're looking well, wait until your mother sees you! ::calling off:: LAXE! GENKOS IS CALLING! ::Just off-screen, Genkos could hear his mother's faint response.:: Laxe: What? Tillul: Just a second son. ::Tillul stood up and walked off-screen, leaving Genkos to mull over his decision - he'd not really spoken to them since joining the Gorkon. Did he give them the abridged version, or the warts-and-all tale that might not paint himself in the best light. But before he could make a decision, his father returned, this time with his mother. Tillul was a tall thin man, much like Genkos, but with white hair and a face line from smiling and laughing so much. Laxe was a little fuller, but not what one would call fat, and was a little sterner of temper. Not much, but still. :: Laxe: Hello my boy. Don't you look well? They feed you well on that spaceship? Genkos: They do mum, I'm getting my three square meals. Laxe: But you do get to eat non-replicated food sometimes right? Tillul: Laxe, replication is just as safe and nutritious as grown food. Laxe: I'm not so sure. ::Genkos smirked. Some things never change. :: Genkos: So, how are things with you? Tillul: With us? We're just the same as the day you left for your ship. Nothing's changed here. Laxe: But what about you? What's jetting around space like? Genkos: Pretty exciting. I - ::Without meaning to, Genkos gave them a complete history of the his time aboard the Gorkon. Starting with the tail end of the rescue aboard Starbase 173, the construction of Tasha MacFarlane's arm, shore leave aboard the Cloud Skipper, and then a detailed retelling of his time at the Sikuna colony, from his first encounter with the Governor, to his harsh words to Dhisuia and the beating she received because of it, and finally telling them all about the fight for her life that followed. His parents laughed and cried along with him - feeling immense pride when he detailed just how he designed and attached the Ensign's new arm, feeling appalled at his harsh words to the Romulan, expressing anxiety as Genkos described his and Commander Vess' struggle to keep Dhisuia alive. At the end of it all, Genkos was an emotional wreck.:: Tillul: Son, I cannot pretend to be proud of what you said to that Romulan. But - and I'm sure your mother agrees with me here - you did everything to atone for your words. Laxe: Actions speak louder than words Genkos. And you saved that woman's life. You kept your oath and kept her alive. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Genkos: But she might never have been in that position if not for me. Tillul: That's a mighty leap of logic son. A Vulcan would scold you for that. What's to say that she, or somebody else, wasn't going to get beaten bloody that day? Tempers were running high. Laxe: It was inevitable. Genkos: Thanks guys. I miss you. Laxe: We miss you too. Maybe next time, convince your CO to have shore leave here. Genkos: Maybe I will, maybe I will. Laxe: We love you son. Genkos: I love you. Tillul: We'll have to love you and leave you though - we're going for dinner at the Costanz's and I'm not ready. Mentally or physically. Genkos: ::laughing:: Have a great time. :: And with that they were gone...:: Ensign Genkos Sim MD Medical Officer USS Gorkon G239502GS0
  8. 0 points
    ((Stoyer’s Quarters, Deck 5, USS Gorkon)) (OOC - This take place after Cory is released from medical.) ::Cory stood outside the door to his quarters. As the last days have shown, he normally would ask where Petra was better heading home. But after everyone has told him it was past time they talked. He did not know what he was going to say, but seeing how mad she was when she came by medical, Cory was not looking forward to this. On top of that, he was sure that the skipper would know what happened and a stern talking to was coming.:: oO Great, that was going to be fun. Oo ::Stepping inside Cory winced a bit. Everything was healed, but sore. Carefully, taking a deep breath he turned and saw Petra moving around the bedroom. He watched her for a moment. How she could look so beautiful with everything going on and looking in the mirror look so rough. Knowing that he was procrastinating talking to her he called out.:: Stoyer: Hey! ::She stepping into the door of the bedroom.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: Hi. ::Cory could feel her looking into him. He had done a good job of avoiding her.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: I am glad you are OK. Stoyer: Thanks. Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: Welcome. ::Cory had not felt a colder welcome ever. For a warm and passionate woman, she could be very cold and distant if needed.:: Stoyer: I….uh, think we need to talk. ::A smirk cross her face. Cory braced himself for a blast from her. Nothing came, that unnerved him even more.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: What makes you think that? The fact that you lied to me about having feelings for another woman or the fact that you have been avoiding me for days. Or to top it off you tried to get yourself killed on the holodeck. ::Cory hung his head in shame. She was absolutely correct in everything, well except the part about trying to kill himself.:: Stoyer: Look, what happen…. ::Petra cut him off before he could even try.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: Cory, don’t. You know I hate it when you use those programs. They are dangerous enough already, so don’t stand there and tell you weren’t trying to hurt yourself. ::Cory shut his mouth.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: I am so mad at you right, I can’t stand it. So say whatever you have to say. I have things to get done. ::Cory looked at her again and noticed something different. This time he noticed there was an extra “pip” on her collar.:: Stoyer: When did you get promoted? ::Petra paused for a second before answering.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: Captain Brunsig promoted me earlier today and the Admiral approved it. ::That surprised him. Well, it should not have. Captain Brunsig always respected Petra for her abilities and skill. She was part of the Yaharla Nine and even stood up to him at one of the legal discussion for him trying to take the fall for the entire group.:: Stoyer: Why, would Captain Brunsig promote you? ::Petra crossed her arms over her chest and took a deep breath.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: I was going to tell you. ::an awkward pause.:: I have been transferred to the Triumphant. I am going to be Captain Brunsig’s Yeoman. I am headed over there now. ::Once again the sledgehammer welded by a large angry Gorn hit Cory in the chest. It was everything he could do to stay standing. He looked at her.:: Stoyer: What?? Why? ::Even as he said it, he knew why. He had driven her to transfer. They both agreed that neither of them would hold the other back.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: You know why? I can’t live like this. You are a mess and are not even trying to get help. Stoyer: I’m f…. ::Petra again cut him off.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: Don’t even say you are fine. You are avoiding me. You aren't talking to me. You look tired and worn out. You haven’t been eating and sleeping well. Yes, I have been keeping an eye on you. ::With that, Petra reached behind the door and grabbed a shoulder bag. Hoisting it to her shoulder she walked over to where Cory stood and looked him in the eyes. His heart is below his navel.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: Cory, I still love you, but you need to get help and get yourself sorted out. You need to get your priorities straightened out. ::Petra reached up and touched his cheek. He felt the warmth of her hand. Her eyes were on the edge of tears.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: The beard does look good on you. Stoyer: Thanks. ::She turned to leave. Looking back at him one more time.:: Bjarnadottir-Stoyer: Let me know what you want to do. ::Her eyes got hard one last time.:: But don’t wait too long. ::Cory nodded and she was gone. He stood there feeling nothing. Everything in him was gone. He stiffly moved to the couch and tried to sit down, but missed the seat and landed on the floor. Looking around at their quarters still felt nothing. He was hollow and numb inside. The tears would not come.:: Lieutenant Cory Stoyer Mission Specialist USS Gorkon C239111CS0
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