Jump to content

June 15 is the 25th anniversary of our community's founding in 1994.
Join our celebratory thread to tell us what you love about our community, what you've learned as a member, or what keeps you here! 🎉🎊

Leaderboard

  1. FltAdml. Wolf

    FltAdml. Wolf

    Community Founder


    • Points

      371

    • Content Count

      12,920


  2. Jarred Thoran

    Jarred Thoran

    Captains Council observer


    • Points

      207

    • Content Count

      685


  3. Jo Marshall

    Jo Marshall

    Captains Council observer


    • Points

      206

    • Content Count

      207


  4. Roshanara Rahman

    Roshanara Rahman

    Captains Council member


    • Points

      188

    • Content Count

      2,066



Popular Content

Showing content with the highest reputation since 07/24/2018 in all areas

  1. 13 points
    This is an appreciation shout out for the crew of the USS Gorkon! Our last (current) mission saw us in Deep Space, in deep sleep, and about twenty years in the past stuck in a dream. Awakening to a life as a member of a Maquis Resistance Cell on the raider Skarbek , everyone took to it immediately, temporarily redesigning aspects of their character makeup and made it work. It was truly an awesome mission (it's still going on) and there's so much love on the Gorkon for everyone's effort in bringing the Maquis to life in our own special way. Thank you, everyone, and especially @Quinn Reynolds - It's been such a ride! Having said that, you're all insane. Justifiably, as per the below, but nevertheless. Completely bonkers. We're fully aware that trying to explain any of this to anyone would warrant a buckled cuddle jacket and a padded room. Coupled with the fact that this will be completely out of context... Here are some of my favourite bits of the entire escapade pre-wake up call, in chronological order. Enjoy! --- ::The engines of the Cardassian raiders screamed through the night sky, a banshee wail of fire and devastation. The outpost was rapidly being reduced to ruins, buildings collapsed and aflame. The worst of the bombardment was over, paving way for the troops to hit the ground and try to mop up the survivors. Thankfully, the civilians had mostly been evacuated before the Cardassians had reached the planet, leaving only the Maquis fighters still on the ground. ::[Brunsig] was proud to say that they were living up to the name of "resistance fighters". There'd been casualties on both sides, but the number of Cardassian corpses were outnumbered by those of his own people. For now.:: --- Brunsig: You think we do that? To them? Do you think we swoop down on civilian outposts and burn their homes to the ground? ::He had no doubt she'd heard the commotion outside. But seeing it, tasting it, hearing the heat sear her face… he saw her expression shift, horror forming in her hazel eyes, even as she fought to keep her composure.:: Reynolds: I can't. Brunsig: Listen to me, *Cupcake*-- ::He stopped himself, clenching his jaw. Now was not the time, as gratifying as it would be to yell in her face.:: --- Brunsig: =/\= If I have to scrape your corpse up, I'm giving your bike to the kid. =/\= ::She snorted a laugh, her first for the last day, at least. The gruff guy knew just where to jab the painstik to make sure her priorities were in order.:: Marshall: =/\= Scheißhaus. If you do, I'll make telling him your nickname my dying words. Which of us will be worse off? =/\= --- ::The voices up ahead grew louder as she drew unendingly closer, Emilia’s pace increased to a light jog. Her ‘holster’, (aka, a glorified leather satchel) tapped soundly against her thigh, a sensation Emilia had gotten relatively accustomed to over the past several years in DMZ. After abandoning her place in the federation, carrying a weapon almost constantly was the new standard equipment. Having a weapon was one of the few luxuries that help Emilia sleep at night. Life had been a real kick in the backside since leaving her home on Trill, but it was a worthy sacrifice for a cause she believed in. Sure she’d never see her family, but Emilia wasn’t going to stand by as these people suffered at the hands of the Cardassian Union.:: ::A flash of pink entered the corner of Emilia’s vision, a somewhat, but glossy ribbon whipping in the weak wind as it held her hair in a side swept ponytail. That flash of pink was all she had left of home, nothing more and nothing less, but it was a good reminder of what Emilia fought for. The freedom of countless federation citizens, a cause she gave up a utopia for, but it’s not much of a utopia if those who govern it refuse to help their own.:: --- Brunsig: =/\= They're killing us down here, Red. =/\= :: Ayiana smirked. Everyone in the cell had taken on a nickname, always chosen by everyone else, and not always flattering. It was mostly to hide their identities over open communication channels, but over time, everyone had gotten used to the nicknames. It was pretty easy to figure out why people started calling Ayiana “Red.” :: Sevo: =/\= So kill them first. I’d say ten minutes until we’re down there. :: Boom! :: Assuming we’re not blown out of the sky first. =/\= --- ::Tasha gave a shriek of laughter as she grabbed ahold of a nearby access panel and tore it off the wall. In the recessed alcove was a mass of relays. Some would call it messy or unordered, but to Tasha it made perfect sense. She reached in and located the switch buried beneath the relays and flipped it. There was a high pitched whine and Tasha glanced at a nearby console and grinned.:: ::She plunged her arm back in, navigating the mass of relays on memory and instinct. She located a second switch and flipped it too. The whine dropped to a dull drone, and when Tasha flipped a third switch the sound vanished. She extracted her arm and jumped to her feet and raced to the nearest console, hurriedly entering several commands, and grinning as she watched the shield strength increase.:: MacFarlane: =/\= I’ve got more shield strength f’ yeh Red! An’ more speed f’ yeh Sticks! Show those spoonheads what yeh can do laddie!! =/\= --- :: Yiggtissi noticed the phaser that had appeared in Sim’s hand. No doubt it was his trusty sidearm that he almost never left home without. The Saurian patted himself down looking for his own but couldn’t find it. He looked around on the floor. Finally, under the rubble of a table, he saw it. It was a small silver disruptor his oldest brother had given him when he first joined the ragtag group of renegades. He snatched it up and gave it a once over. It was half charged and now covered in a couple of scratches. :: Sim: For luck :: Yiggtissi looked up and saw the infamous flask sitting in the air. It had become sort of a tradition between them both since they first went into battle together. Usually, before the two medics did something extremely stupid, they would take long draws from the flask and head off into the throws of battle or bar fights. Yiggtissi smiled a toothy grin and snatched the flask from his air, taking a long drink before handing it off to the rest. He used his remaining sleeve to wipe the dribble from the corners of his mouth. :: ::Cory declined. He had remembered the last time they had been together and the flask had appeared. It was a bar fight on Penthios IV and it cost Yiggtissi a broken jaw, Stoyer a black eye and Sim a nice cut on his forehead from a broken bottle. Good times, indeed. :: --- ::Ferier “Stick’s” Lanta loved to fly, as a boy all he wanted to do was fly starships. Rejected by the Federation for Starfleet Academy and finding no interest in flying Transporters from Trill and finding a hatred for the “spoonheads” for their actions on Bajor he had drifted in to the Maquis he had been found by Brunsig. After been caught stealing Brunsig had helped him out and quickly gained his trust with a speed that still astounded him. ::So here he found himself flying admittedly a run down Maquis ship. Held together by what Sparks called unicorn power, something he quite firmly believed having seen Sparks find miracle cures for the little ships mechanical woes. Usually, his job was difficult taking the battle to the Cardies. Today it seemed impossible. Fighting off Cardie attack vessels swerving around and between them. :: --- Vondaryan: Don't try anything. Brunsig: That goes both ways. How about you tear your eyeballs off her [...] and earn your keep? --- Marshall: Avoiding is better than a full frontal firefight. We're in no condition to take the fight to them. How's your chair doing on the rubble? Sim: I'm fine, don't worry about me. The old girl's done more miles than you've had replicated meals. --- Krugol: As much as you’re itching to shoot something, I doubt it’d be a good idea to delve headfirst into a bunch of Cardassians that can call for help. Vondaryan: We could try to draw some of them off with a distraction. Then the rest of us could make a run for it. ::He rummaged through the pack.:: I'm sure there's a few disruptor grenades in here somewhere. ::He made it a point not to volunteer to be the distraction himself. He was much too valuable to waste in a potentially lethal way.:: --- Stoyer: Hey Blondie! If this works you gonna talk Red into going out with me when we get out of here? ::Jo's eyes flitted upwards. A fight to the death came second to a dry spell apparently - she didn't expect any different from the charming Engineer. It had been the same on the night they'd met. One bar fight, smashed bottles, his flirtations exchanged for her eye-rolls aplenty. And, now, she was the wingman. Power ballads were written for that kind of friendship.:: Marshall: Sure, Strip. That impending shuttle wreck is exactly what I want on my mind! --- D’fini: Are you alright?::Concerned. She didn't want to rain on his parade. In fact, it was nice. It wasn't a quantum torpedo explosion by any stretch but it was nice and she liked it.:: Smith: Of course it wasn’t my first kiss.... ::She knew that was a lie. However, it might be interesting how to teach this one the fine art of it. She gave a small smile.:: D’fini: Not bad for a first kiss. Not bad at all. ::She watched his face go red. Davine had caught him and she wasn't going to let it go for a moment.:: --- ::Laugh, or cry? Hard to decide. A short, sharp smack with the butt of her rifle also seemed like a valid alternative. Finally, the pair decided to pay attention to the destruction and potential death that surrounded them, but from the direction their weapons were pointing, it looked as though they hadn't realised who was approaching them. Sienelis: It's us. ::She hissed, still not sure if she was amused or annoyed by (or jealous of?) their antics.:: If you've finished trying to mount each other while the world burns, we're leaving. --- Sevo: Computer, run program “Cavalry.” :: The computer acknowledged with a quick chirp. As the ramp lowered, Ayiana heard the opening riff of AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” blasting over the external speakers. Simultaneously, the ship flashed it’s running lights in tune with the beat. Once the ramp was open, Ayiana stepped up to the edge. Grinning widely, she let loose a barrage of phaser energy packets at over two-thousand per minute, straight into the Cardassians on the ground. :: Sevo: :: To ground teams. :: =/\= WAHOO! THE CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED!! =/\= (( OOC: https://youtu.be/4gDch1p4c_M )) --- Yiggs: Almost like that skirmish on Devro. :: He paused. :: I didn't think we were gonna make it this time. ::Genkos thought about the skirmish on Devro. If he remembered rightly, he'd annoyed some rather fierce Klingons whilst under the influence, and Yiggs had to come to his aid. They'd managed to corner the Klingons in an alley, and had to beat them to death with their own bat'leth. Again, fun.:: Sim: ::locking eyes with his friend:: Me neither. I was certain my little stunt was going to get one of us killed. Although it looks like we did okay. That explosion sounded pretty impressive, even if I do say so myself. --- Brunsig: I'll head to the bridge and see if I can get hold of him. ::He paused, eyeing the Starfleet officer, holding out the cuffs to whoever took them first.:: Cuff her again, put her in one of the empty crew cabins and make sure there's a guard on the door. Whoever's left, defend this ramp. Sevo: I got enough power to hold out. Go. ::Emilia nodded to Brunsig eagerly, deciding not to pay any attention to Trellis’ antics.:: Krugol: I’ll stay, and give Red a hand ::She spoke, holder her phaser up.:: Vondaryan: I'll make sure she's nice and safe. Sevo: Yea, that’s not creepy at all. --- Vondaryan: Don't worry, I won't begin any interrogations yet. ::He smirked.:: I'll just let her stew in the cabin for a little longer, contemplating her fate. ::The Maquis Raider was a far cry from the sleek, elegant engineering of the Starfleet vessels she served on. Cramped, dingy and damaged, she couldn't help but feel it echoed the personalities and attitudes of the people who inhabited it. Some Maquis were sympathetic in their struggles, noble warriors fighting a dirty (if misguided) war to protect their homes. The Skarbek's crew, by and large, were not counted among that number.:: Reynolds: ::Quietly,:: Have you ever contemplated yours? Vondaryan: Look, if we can get away from the Cardassians on a regular basis, we can certainly keep ahead of Starfleet. ::He smirked once again, in an underserved show of confidence.:: They haven't caught us yet. You're in this for the long haul. ::Oh, but the Cardassians had caught them, hadn't they? Only it hadn't been the Maquis who had suffered for it, rather the people who had lived and worked in the outpost currently in flames. Now an entire community was homeless in the Demilitarised Zone, left to hope that someone would take them in. Perhaps they'd head back to the Federation, where they'd be safe. She hoped so. ::Quinn answered as the EPS system on the beleaguered raider began to whine, power being pushed hard through the ship's systems. It looked as though they were entering the final stages of their escape from the outpost.:: Reynolds: You'll forgive me if I choose to believe otherwise. --- ::Cory ran over to the warp core and looked over it. He traced his finger to the top and located the injector under the Deuterium tank. It looked a bit out of alinement. Climbing up to reached it, he remembered that his toolkit was back near the shield console. Cursing, he climbed back down, ran over and grabbed it. Slinging it over his shoulder Cory climbed back up and started loosening the brackets that kept the injector alined. ::When they were loosened, Cory used a small rubber mallet to whack the injector a couple of time to see if it would move. Nothing. So Cory hit it harder. Cursing, he hit it with everything he had and it moved slightly. Hitting it again, it seemed to straighten back up and a light came on. Cory dropped the hammer and started tightening the brackets. Climbing down and wiping the sweat off with a rag from his bag he beamed at Tasha as she climbed out of the Jefferies tube.:: MacFarlane: Structural integrity is back, ‘ow goes it in ‘ere? Stoyer: I got the injector repaired. See I did learn a few things from you. --- Lanta: Don’t mind me while I close my eyes and pray. ::Muttering to herself, Jo turned her waning attention back to the console in front of her and the systems screaming for the power she didn't have to give. Whatever was going on in Engineering needed to get fixed fast, otherwise, they were going to be the guest stars at a Cardassian [...]tail party. Forgoing praying to any deity that was listening - because if their luck was any indication, none ever did - Jo concentrated on the image of Walter in a [...]tail dress, providing just enough amusement to see her through to the sticky end.:: --- Brunsig: =/\= Did you get it? =/\= E. Reynolds: =/\= Yes, and you owe me a new liver. I'm *still* hungover from all the bloodwine they made us drink. =/\= ::She wasn't kidding. Her head felt like someone was using it as an alternative to timpani in Beethoven's 9th Symphony, and she hadn't eaten in over 24 hours, still quite convinced that her stomach still wasn't ready for anything solid. The Klingons had found it hilarious just how much the tiny woman had been able to put away, but boy had she regretted it the next day. Which, oddly, had only seemed to endear her a little more to them.:: Brunsig: =/\= Sure thing, Bärchen. But if we're talking about who owes who a new liver— =/\= E. Reynolds: =/\= Fine, fine. But you have to admit, that was *good* gin. =/\= --- Reynolds: But your cause isn't as just as you pretend it is, is it? It's an excuse. A chance to kill and maim people who had nothing to do with the attack on your home. Then they use that as an excuse to hurt more of our people. And so it goes, round and round. ::An eye for an eye, and the whole galaxy goes blind.:: --- ::Suddenly sparks and smoke began sizzling out of an exposed panel under the tactical console.:: Krugol: Dammit, ::Yelling:: Hey Red? Could you possibly break it to Sparks that the motherboard got fried again? Sevo: Nope. Lanta: Don’t look at me I think it’s Emilia’s turn. Krugol: What do you mean ‘No’? I told her last time, it’s only fair that you do it. ::Emilia whined:: Burke: Here I got it. ::Eli said crawling onto the floor.:: Nobody needs to get the Queen of Scotts involved. --- Gwinnett: Come on someone. ::She had used the intercom so many times that she had gotten the answer. 'Don't call us, we will call you'. She had been quiet for hours now, but it was just another minor offense on a service record that was marred with minor offensives.:: ::She sighed and rolled over. Finally she got thin mattress and got on the floor. She got down and started to start her exercise routine. It was something that distract her for a little while. The pushups started in earnest. Slowly at first until she found her rhythm.:: Gwinnett: Three, Four, Five, Six. ::Her body started to transform into a machine, doing the same near prefect motion time and time again.:: ---- Yiggtissi: Here. It’s not much but you will need the protein. Besides the obvious, do you feel alright? Pain? Injured? Vondaryan: I doubt there's anything you can do for her wounded pride. :: Genkos could not read a thing off their prisoner, either through his natural empathic powers or in her body language. She was a slight woman, and it appeared that she was trying to appear smaller. It might be that was from genuine fear, to appease Slick's aggressive attitude, or from another feeling altogether. Pride was funny, and Genkos was pretty sure the only person feeling any level of pride at that moment in time was Slick himself. Genkos was fairly ashamed that they were having to resort to kidnapping a Starfleet officer, he was pretty sure Yiggs felt the same way as the tenderness he was showing their prisoner was touching. Whilst the look Blondie was giving Slick could kill Julius Caesar many times over.:: --- Reynolds: Why does it matter, anyway? ::She smiled, a hollow expression that didn't reach her eyes.:: The intention isn't to let me remain fine, is it? ::The bile rose in Genkos' throat. Clearly this woman believed they were going to torture her, and that was the last thing either of the two doctors wanted. Even without their experiences with Chok, they'd taken an oath to do no harm. Whilst they'd relented on that vow when it came to Cardassians, they still would take care of their own, as well as anybody who was decent and innocent. And whilst the Starfleeter in front of them was probably not innocent, she hadn't proved herself to be indecent.:: Sim: That's unfair and untrue. It's not Brunsig's way, it's not my way, it's certainly not Yiggs' way. --- Thomas: If we consider we can’t find time to bring it offline, what do you think about a few compensatory modifications to ensure that we do get to where we’re going at least? ::Poor Kael. So serious and sensible in his suggestions. It really wasn't fair that Tasha was hooting with laughter almost immediately after he'd asked the question. Valesha shot him a wry look, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. Unhinged as she was, the woman was both good at her work and popular with the crew. All you could do was put up with her… idiosyncrasies.:: MacFarlane: Compensatory modifications...Bahahahahahaha!!!!! ::Tasha doubled over, cackling away.:: Oh, that’s a good one!!! A better way t’ phrase tha’ might be; delay th’ problem until its too late. Sevo: We’re meeting up with the Inayat-Khan. Erin is bringing supplies and some new recruits. I hope we can at least make it a few light-years, Sparks? MacFarlane: Oh aye, ol’ Skarbek will get us where we need t’ go. Won’t yeh ol’ girl? ::Tasha fondly ran her hand along the edge of her console.:: But, she didn’t like jumpin’ in th’ atmosphere, she protested long an’ loud. --- Sim: Isn't that the reason we have law enforcement? To help curtail the worst echelons of the various species of the galaxy? Yiggtissi: I think our esteemed beside manner is useless here brother. Reynolds: I'm not going to voluntarily tell you anything I know. Beyond the fact it's my duty not to, I'm not going to help you kill more people. So let me ask you this; what options does that leave you with? --- Neathler: ::quickly Samira stood up, causing the chair to fall over:: Hey, what did I... :: Samira stopped midsentence, she was yelling at a closed door anyway. She stared at the door, her eyes flashing from one side to the other as if she was trying to read something that was printed on the door. Finally in her mind, a few loose ends came together and she figured it out. She shook her head as she picked up the chair and with a deep sigh she sat down. :: Neathler: :: talking to her self :: I should have known, some friend you are... --- Burke: I don’t know. Somewhere between killing people and letting people get killed. ::Eli responded in a tone acknowledging the entire universes spanning the distance between those two ideals.:: ::Idealism was what got people killed out here. Eli couldn’t afford to be idealistic anymore, for himself or for the people he was protecting. Part of him hurt admitting that, but it was true. And at the same time, the paradox of the issue confronted Eli because determining not to adhere to an ideal in order to save lives was an ideal in itself. So in his efforts not to be idealistic, Eli exercised idealism. If he was going to be idealistic either way shouldn’t he adhere to the ideal his heart, his spirit, told him was most important, the core of the issue? --- ::Emilia felt a strange feeling in the pit of her chest, the uncomfortable feeling as if she was being watched. Emilia’s hands formed into fists tighter than a ferengi, her knuckles going white with irritation and anxiety. As if someone was trying to burn a hole in her skull sheerly by staring, a feeling she despised with a passion. Emilia’s temptation to snap some snarky comment at the gawker was immeasurable, but she held herself back, she didn’t want to cut Eli off.:: Krugol: I see… oO Okay, that’s it. Oo Thumper, give me a second, will you? ::Emilia’s head snapped around in one swift motion, causing an almost visible disturbance in the air. Her narrowed eyes matched with a familiar blue, her body freezing for a second in hesitation. But, like steam through ice, Emilia’s snarky comment flung itself at the trill before her, like an asteroid.:: Need something? Or are you just staring for the hell of it? Try drawing a picture, it’ll last you longer. Lanta: Sorry Princess but no its nothing. Guess I am losing it. --- ::Talara saw a bright flash in the sky through all the haze and smoke. Had somebody really gone to warp in the atmosphere like that? They had to be crazy. ::Then again, this whole operation was crazy. She never should have left the Imperial Guard. What had she been thinking? She'd been thinking of Shral, of course. What was best for him. They would never be safe with any threat of Cardassians impeding upon Federation territory. Who knew how long it would be until the Cardies wanted Andoria, or some other occupied world in the heart of the Federation. The Federation may be willing to sacrifice the DMZ, but she wasn't. It was the principle of the thing. You had to stand up to bullies. The spoonies were some of the biggest bullies in the galaxy. ::With a roar of her own and her antennae pressed flat against her head Talara "Wires" zh'Aldrashi stepped forward to face the onslaught that awaited her. As the Klingons would say, "Today is a good day to die." She would take as many spoonies out with her as she could in the process.:: (Trellis Vondaryan) --- Marshall: Whatever you say, sponge. If you can explain to me where that dent came from in the Mess Hall table, I'll let you out. Gwinnett: I'll take responsibility. I think it was me.::She wasn't sure, but to fall on your sword at this point didn't hurt her.:: Alright so I shouldn't of been drinking. However, I should of been relieved hours ago. Not that a little liquor ever interfered with my aim. One has to wonder how many times....::She went on and on about her concerns. Gwinnett always had steam to blow off and keeping it bottled up was even worst.:: ::Finally the door slid open and Marshall was standing there. Brooks looked up and got up from the floor.:: Marshall: Fancy a trip to Engineering? Gwinnett: I was starting to think that no one cared.::Smiling.:: --- ::Genkos pushed himself closer, and Yiggtissi handed over his tricorder, still linked with the transmitter on Krugol’s neck. It had been constantly recording the various data and storing in the device’s memory. Genkos looked at the readings. They looked perfectly normal, sedate even, for somebody asleep. Glancing upwards, he saw Princess sat on the edge of the biobed. Definitely not asleep. He looked down again at the readings again – her limbic system was acting like it was in deep REM sleep, but she was wide awake.:: oO What the... Oo Sim: So I am reading this right – her brain is asleep, but Princess is awake. I'm not missing anything? --- EMH: You have a very serious disruptor wound, Lieutenant. ::Caedan started to laugh, then groaned at the molten pain the motion sent through his torso. Was it bad enough to kill him? It *felt* bad enough to kill him, but he was certainly the most biased person the assessment.:: Nkai: No kidd— ::his words stuttered in his mouth as he grimaced,:: —dding. EMH: Can you explain what's going on? ---- MacFarlane: Uhhh...All o’ it? I can fix th’ table, hang on. ::Tasha placed her flesh hand on a still flat piece of the table, while she reached underneath with her prosthetic. She easily located the dent, and with a couple of well-aimed and steady thumps she more or less smoothed out the crater.:: Reynolds: ::Sincerely,:: Then my lips are sealed. MacFarlane: Thank yeh, I do nae want m’ friends t’ think I’m mentally unstable. --- Marshall: Take your time. It's probably a byproduct of whatever gas Sparks uses in Engineering. Huff too much of that stuff and you'll be seeing fairies and unicorns. Sevo: I don’t know. This was weird. I mean, weirder than Sparks’ moonshine fumes. I...I think I’d better go to sickbay. Marshall: You gonna be alright going on your own, or...? ::However, the woman was already making her way toward the stairs, full steam ahead.:: Or just go it alone, into the dark, smash your head open on a step, make ME the bad guy... ::Muttering to herself, Jo jogged to catch up with her before she fell down them head first and face planted the floor. Their Maquis Health Insurance wasn't what it used to be.:: --- Brunsig: So to be clear; we're all exhausted and strung out on adrenaline; we've just narrowly escaped from the burning wreckage of Schulman, breathing in deep lungfuls of toxic smoke from an outpost's worth burning buildings and their contents; you're using equipment that was basic and bargain basement when it was new twenty-five years ago; said equipment took a battering along with the rest of the ship when we were being shot at by Cardassians... ::He paused for dramatic effect, sweeping his piercing gaze around the people collected in sickbay,:: Brunsig: ...but you think the *reasonable* conclusion is that we're all lucid sleepwalkers? Including yourselves. Who are diagnosing sleepwalking. In your sleep. ::He scowled.:: Is there such a thing as a common sense transplant? ::He glanced toward Vondaryan.:: What's the going rate on those, these days? --- ::Some of them had seemed quite promising, to start with. Some fury, some violent tendencies, a desperate desire for revenge… but they were all too loyal to (or afraid of) their "captain". It was a frustration that the dream state could only be created with broad brush strokes — goals set, scenario created — with the dreamers filling in the blanks. It led to situations like this, with Starfleet officers putting a captain in charge and following him like the sheep they were.:: Mirovan: Mmm. ::She paused, gesturing at the screen with a milk-pale, slender finger.:: In addition, the joined Trill are proving to a be problem— Lladre: ::Dryly,:: Story of my life. Mirovan: —as they're experiencing corporeal bleed, due to their unique neurophysiology. I can increase the intensity of the field to counteract it, but it does risk permanent brain damage to both symbiont and host. ::Face impassive, Lladre locked her gaze with the Dokkaran woman. Ana was almost monochrome: white hair, anaemic skin… the only splashes of colour were her pale pink lips and translucent blue eyes. She really was very fond of the mild-mannered, desert-witted woman. They had been friends for a very long time, through several hosts, and she was one of the few people Lladre would ever inconvenience herself for.:: Lladre: I fail to see how that's a problem. Mirovan: I thought you might say that. --- ::In an instant, her hungry eyes seized the book’s form, Emilia’s nails jamming in between the marked crevices of the novel. Dramatically and slowly, she freed the printed text from darkness that plagued the pages. The relief of escaping to a world of fantasy upon her once more, as she set her famished eyes on the bold, black letters that sunk deeply into the pages.:: ::It felt rather ironic really, suspecting one of dreaming, but once again indulging in the dreams of another man. Quite odd really? Perhaps it was… but the line between dreams and reality appeared to thicken once again as Emilia occupied her thoughts on the coarse pages. Though, she still couldn’t shake the feelings she had earlier. Each image within her mind, sticking with her like glue. Each recollection, causing a strangely ghostly feeling to reach through the very centre of her chest.:: ::But what could it all mean?:: --- Smith: Me and Davine? Noo...... ::He was lying through the skin of his teeth and it was very obvious, but he knew people would find out quickly. He just needed to be careful about what he said as they weren’t anything, they as Davine said we’re “just having fun” Yiggtissi: This is a small ship Kid. Every time someone passes gas around here, it’s like a major breaking news event. Sim: Although we're not going to tell anyone. ::winking at the Kid:: --- Brunsig: ...but you think the *reasonable* conclusion is that we're all lucid sleepwalkers? Including yourselves. Who are diagnosing sleepwalking. In your sleep. ::He scowled.:: Is there such a thing as a common sense transplant? ::He glanced toward Vondaryan.:: What's the going rate on those, these days? ::Trellis snorted. He tried motioning to say "I told them, they don't believe me," and "I can't just *buy* common sense for them" but wasn't sure how effective he was with a mere shrug and a roll of his eyes.:: --- Johns: Alright, alright. No need to take a chunk out of my tush, I was only asking. Consider my rump roasted. Lanta: What I wouldn’t give for a plate of fresh gagh or some Targ steak right now. Sevo: I don’t know, Soup, you would have made a pretty decent mirror. All we would need to do is just bend you over, and stick your [...] around a corner to look for any surprises --- MacFarlane: =/\= MacFarbles t’ Yiggy. I figged yer equibmint. =/\= Yiggtissi: =/\= Thanks. :: He paused. :: Are you ok Sparks? =/\= MacFarlane: =/\= Wha? I’m line...brine...lime...uhhh...I am completely alrigh’ =/\= Yiggtissi:: =/\= So there was nothing wrong with the devices? Hard to believe but I trust you. =/\= MacFarlane: =/\= Well, then come t’ shikbay an’ sheck it yerselb. Or no! Were are yeh? I can take da shricorbers t’ yeh! =/\= --- ::Erin smiled, tugged forward as Jo slipped her fingers into the belt loops of her trousers. She happily fell into the woman's arms, squeezing back just as tightly as she was swept up into a bear hug. It was good to be home.:: Marshall: Welcome home, sheya. E. Reynolds: I missed you. ::She paused, closing her eyes in a grimace of discomfort and annoyance.:: But, um… for your continued personal hygiene, you should probably put me down. --- ::Quinn hit the deck with a thump, and laid there in a daze for a few moments. The bare metal of the Skarbek's deck was cold against her cheek, and she couldn't tell if she was relieved or disappointed to have woken from the intense dream. Her heart was still pounding, and she could almost swear his scent still lingered on her skin, her lips still tingling from his kiss. Relieved. Surely she was relieved. Walter Brunsig was a traitor and a terrorist, and not a man she wanted running through her thoughts in *any* capacity if she could avoid it. What was her brain even doing, conjuring up a scenario like that? ::With a groan of an entirely different sort, she tried to bury her face in her hands, only to be reminded that she was still in cuffs.:: Bondon: If you're quite finished. ::Quinn began to move, her head turning toward the source of the voice. Caught entirely unawares, she wasn't quick enough, and the toe of a booted foot slammed into her midriff, leaving her in pain while gasping for air.:: Bondon: No, no. Stay down. You and I need to have a conversation. Or rather, you need to talk, and I want to listen. --- Smith: Basically, Yiggs and Kos are convinced were asleep. that this is some sort of collective dream. what if.. :Hesitating for the third time:: what if they're right, what if we don't know each other on.. where ever there is. our friendship means a lot to me. I don't want it to go away. ::He started to tear up, and a singular tear fell down his cheek.:: Or worse what if one of us doesn't exist and is just a part of one of our dreams. I... don't know what to do Dav, it scares me. ::He fell against the wall and slid down it, his knees upright and his arms around them. his head in his lap. he broke down, endless thoughts of what might and might not be real went through his mind, Jang, his parents, old friends, were they real. was he real. he didn't know what to believe anymore, more tears started to fall, quickly he wiped them away trying to avoid anymore embarrassment he had caused himself. Looking up he saw Dav, she started to talk. even just looking at her he felt a tiny bit better. if he wasn't real he was glad to be spending time with her. --- ::While Trellis moved aside some papers Wheels went to a desk drawer and took out a pair of shot glasses. He poured drink into both, took the slug, refilled, and only then handed the other glass to Trellis. He too downed his shot and refilled it. All the while Wheels climbed out of his chair to relax on his bunk before actually looking at Trellis. The pure black Betazoid eyes staring back at him still managed to cause shivers down his spine whenever he looked into them for any amount of time. Tonight was no exception.:: Sim: ::in a mock Austrian accent:: So Mr Vondaryan, tell me about your dreams... Vondaryan: ::He ran a hand through his blond hair, letting out a deep sigh.:: Well, it was a series of images... ::He paused, trying to remember the exact details.:: There were shiny lights. And... and touch screens. And colored collars, I think... --- Lanta: Relax let the music take you, you don’t have to count listen to your heartbeat and feel your way naturally ::Emilia said nothing in return, only resuming her pace in response. Her gaze bridged with Ferier’s, instantly softening the echo against her chest. Emilia drew a shallow breath before quickly continuing her somewhat slow pace in dance. She couldn’t explain it, but the slight taste of fish formed against her taste buds as her feet pattered unendingly against the deck. Following the rhythm of each beat. Emilia moved each body part as if her heart was a metronome.:: Lanta: You dance excellently, Emilia. ::The use of her name sent chills down her spine. Sticks had never called Emilia by name before, and it was strangely familiar. Familiar enough to feel almost illusive, it was a very cold feeling. Amongst her chills, the song finished, and Emilia stood gracefully in her finishing poze, standing under Sticks’ chin. A breath escaped Emilia’s lips, followed by a soft panting. Once everything had finished, it was as if the fatigue finally had a chance to catch up.:: --- E. Reynolds: Quinn! ::Erin sprinted inside, the scent of copper hanging heavy in the air, dropping to her knees in front of the prone form of the Starfleet officer. Her twin was out cold, her face bruised and split, blood matting a patch of her brown hair, dusty boot prints visible on the dark material of her uniform. Her hands were still cuffed, her hands and wrists covered in welts, as though she'd been using them as a shield. The blood rushing in her hears, Erin reached for her sister's throat with a trembling hand, checking for a pulse, while behind her, Jo thumbed the controls of the internal intercom. A breath she didn't realise she'd been holding escaped when she felt that gentle, regular thump under her fingers.:: Marshall: =/\= Doctors, medical emergency in... in Quinn's quarters. Move it. =/\= --- th’Koro: Right, so have you ever heard of the last Thursday theory? Namura: I can't say that I have. ::Her eyebrow angled flawlessly.:: Care to enlighten? :: Excitement coursed through him but he realised that he can easily bore people with all of his weird Science things. He knew far too much about it :: th’Koro: ::Teasingly:: Well I could but it is long. Namura: It's not as though we haven't got the time here, Newbie. You're into the Science. Let's hear it. th’Koro: ::Taking a big breath in:: Basically, it suggests that the whole universe was created Last Thursday...or whatever day takes your fancy. And it is absolutely impossible to disprove. Like if you say, ‘ooh but I know what I was doing last Wednesday,’ I could just say, ‘ You were created with those memories last Thursday.’ See, a little Reductio ad Absurdum. --- Johns: Sweet saints of all that is holy, you scared the crap out of me. ::He lowered his hand with a brief flash of apology on his features and quelled his shallow but rapid breath.:: Can't you wear a bell or something? Sienelis: No. Johns: Look, I've already been tenderised like a cutlet with a beef mallet on Schulman. The Docs had to pull a five-inch stake out of my buttcheek. So, if you’re about to beat me up, know that I’m tired, and I haven’t shaved my legs. ::Her nose wrinkled, just a little, and she regarded him with clear dismay.:: Sienelis: Nothing you just said enriched my life. --- Stoyer: Well, you are a bit intimidating. Again, I have seen you use that frankengun Sparks put together for you. :: Ayiana couldn’t help but giggle. Did she really seem that way to people? :: Sevo: Sorry. I never really intended to come out looking like that. But you have to try that thing; it’s so fun! --- Smith: That was quick. Also you’re wearing my clothes. MacFarlane: Mine wash bein’ too loub. Beshidesh, ish nob all yersh, thish ish shtill my jacket. Smith: Still that’s my... Hang on were are your clothes Tasha? You could’ve just put them back on MacFarlane: Uhhh...I think m’ clothesh are in yer quartersh shomewhere? Maybe I forgetted where I leaved them. --- Brunsig: Why don't you call your union rep and we'll all have a sit down to discuss the unfair working hours of freedom fighters. ::Stoyer's voice started to rise as he continued. For someone who changed partners as often as most people changed their socks, he was surprisingly upset.:: Stoyer: I know you don’t like me, but remember one thing. I am not here for you or your revolution. I have my reasons. ::He shot a quick glance at Jo, then began to step away.:: Also, you might try if it is in your nature to be a bit nicer to your crew. You may just get more out of them. Brunsig: You're right! How could I be so blind. Someone's just beaten Reynolds into a pulp because there wasn't a guard on her door *as I asked*, ::he glared at Sevo,:: but clearly what everyone *really* needs is a cuddle and a round of Kumbaya from Papa Bear. --- ::When Corliss had been sent ahead to the ship, she...well she...wasn't expecting uh...what had happened. What happened was...she wasn't entirely sure? One moment she was in the ship the next...ah, she wasn't sure now that she was being pulled from the dreamland. She knew she was a mix of afraid and nauseous and her head was pounding a bit. She made a noise, her hand sliding up and covering her face.:: Reynolds: Ensign? Fortune, can you hear me? Fortune: ::mumbling:: Boss, shussshhh, I was dreaming.... --- th’Koro: I’ll only do it if money is involved. :: So the Andorian petaQ wanted to get “paid”, huh? Fine. Without warning, Ayiana swung her right fist at Thalas’ face, hitting him hard on the cheek. :: Sevo: There’s your payment! --- MacFarlane: Ah...that doeshn’t sheem wise...hash anybody eber told yeh tha’ yer a really nice shade o’ green? ::She reached out to try and touch him:: Yer a pretty man. :: The Saurian’s brow lifted a bit as his eyes widened at her comment. It was the first time that anyone had paid him such a compliment, besides his mother of course. Living in Boston, he never caught the attention of women. Even his own species seemed to look at him as a traitor for leaving Sauria and deciding to live among the soft skins. He knew it was the lingering effects of the alcohol but he took Tasha’s comment and smiled. :: Yiggtissi: Thanks Sparks. And for a soft skin and someone I consider a sister, you’re not bad yourself. --- Vondaryan: I didn't realize we had contracts. Maybe the Ferengi wrote them without telling us. Lanta: If thats the case we have a whle slew of backpay coming th’Koro: ::Glaring at Red:: That would be nice :: Samira said nothing. If someone had joined the Maquis with the idea to earn a living, they were surely mistaken. Red's reaction said it all. They should be happy to still be alive at the end of the day. :: Sevo: :: Facepalming. :: It’s a figure of speech. Anyway, Slick, Walter wants *you* to lead this investigation, because apparently you’re good at such things. --- Vondaryan: Right, as we observed from Red and Buttons here, we've got an assailant on the loose. Someone, and I'm not naming names, yet, defied Papa Bear's orders not to harm the Brainiac from Starfleet. We've got to figure out who. ::He rounded on the nearest person to him.:: So where were you an hour ago? ::He could smell the discomfort coming off of the rabble. Everyone was a suspect until they weren't. And right now everyone was a suspect. Except him, of course.:: --- Neathler: :: Trying to remain calm. :: Now why would I want to do that? I didn't even know you had a Fleeter on board, where she was kept captive or how she looks like. And even if I knew, you honestly think I would have kept a fleeter alive? :: Samira was furious, she shouldn't have said the latter but it was too late now. :: --- Sevo: I was having dinner with Stripper. In the galley. Tons of witnesses. ::Unfortunately, Tali could attest to that, with nauseating detail.:: th’Koro: Does this ship have cameras or something or any way to see the corridors in front of the quarters. Sevo: Ha! It’s not like this is a shiny Starfleet ship with a security guard on every corner. Namura: We only needed the *one* guard, to be fair. --- Fortune: ::She grinned:: I'd say it's fair to say not every day you see a brightly pink haired woman in normal company. I'm also very good with my words. However. You definitely owe me a party after this. ::She winked playfully, then winced, rubbing at her temple.:: I'm joking. What's the plan? ::Quinn managed a faint smile, having guessed at the joke — her startling pink hair was barely worth a second glance among the incredible diversity of a Starfleet crew. The Gorkon alone counted a huge variety of appearance among the individuals in residence; a purple-haired Antosian, blue-skinned and antennaed Andorians, a green-skinned, lizard-like Saurian, a Romulan, a battle-scarred and aged Klingon, and last but most definitely not least, a Pahkwa-thanh — a talking dinosaur in a Starfleet uniform.:: Reynolds: I'm sure that Lieutenant Nkai would be delighted to indulge your request. Nkai: Any excuse is a good excuse for a party, sir. --- The dream starts to unravel... --- :: They were currently standing in a small cave, with several tunnels leading off in different directions. In the center of the cave was a raised pool with murky, bubbling water. :: Sevo: I...I think this is a Symbiont pool. From Trill. Lanta: I don’t know but isn’t it beautiful --- :: Samira reached out with her right hand and let some of the confetti fall on her glove. The colorful material quickly changed color on touch down into snow white flakes. Yet something didn't feel right. She looked up, the cave was now filled with snowflakes, blurring the view, the seahorses and jellyfish were nowhere to be seen. Confused she looked at her glove, seeing the flakes were acting as a corrosion and started to eat the leather of her glove. In a bit of a panic she shook her hand trying to get rid of the flakes but it was in vain. :: :: Quickly she turned around, dashed out of the cave, back to the others, ran to the pool and quickly dipped her hand into the murky, bubbling water, hoping the water itself wasn't boiling. Shaking the excess of muddy water from her glove, she muttered her first words since she left the bridge. :: --- ::Without warning the lights flicked back on, brighter than ever. Trellis shielded his eyes from the sudden change in lighting. When his eyes had adjusted he noticed, at the end of the corridor, stood what he thought Humans called a "clown." A being with an obviously fake set of fiery-red hair, paint stains on its cheeks, and a fake, giant, red nose. It smiled to reveal a set of razor-sharp teeth that made the entire image unsettling.:: Namura: P-please tell me someone else sees him. Vondaryan: ::He hissed.:: The thing you call a clown? Yeah. And it's in my way. --- :: Lost in a universe of calamity and incalculable odds, the macrocosm had seen fit to join these two lights together in travel. The thought of losing that pained Yiggtissi to his core and if he could cry, there were would be tears staining his jacket as the two shared this moment in time. :: Sim: ::looking deeply into his friend's eyes:: Whatever happens here today, brother, I will always appreciate your friendship, your loyalty, and your alcohol abuse. ::he felt the tears watering at the corners of his eyes:: Now, lift me up on to that bed before I change my mind. Yiggtissi: :: He bent down and lifted him up. :: Whatever happens, we will find each other again my brother. Our travels are not complete yet. --- MacFarlane: We’re in Scotland ::frowning:: ‘ow th’ hell did we get ‘ere? Stoyer: Why are we here? What did you do? MacFarlane: I did nothin’! We came through t’ door an’-- --- Sevo: KID! What the hell are you--! :: The [unicorn] didn’t move, or even tremble. It freely let Kid touch it’s forehead in a bare place between plates of the armor. Carefully, Ayiana moved up as well. She got so close, she could feel the warm air one of them was breathing out its nostrils. She noticed a silver nametag on it, just like the others; the one in front of her said “Serenity.” :: :: Groznin turned back to Ayiana in confusion.:: Smith: Well what do we do? --- Lanta: ::muttering:: I wonder ::Without another word he climbed a rock near to one of the creatures and climbed the rock and then on to the unicorn. It stood patiently as if expecting it and looked round to make sure he was sat firmly. Then it turned and with no run up cleared the gap with one delicate seeming jump:: Smith: Umm.. ::Groznin was in amazement.:: Lanta: Looks like this is the way across guys --- Gravelled Voice: It's up here. We're to grab her kids and bring them up to the bridge. Rasping Voice: Lladre wants a bargaining chip, huh? Gravelled Voice: Something like that. Don't think his— ::there was a momentary pause, as if the owner of the voice was self-correcting,:: —*her* current plan is working out. ::It took Quinn a moment to realise that her phaser was already out of its holster, held in a vice-like grip. On this deck there was only one set of quarters hosting children — her own. The temptation to up the setting on her phaser was near irresistible, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to think straight. Now was not the time to lose her cool, as much as she wanted to charge around the corner and start shooting at the people threatening her son and daughter. --- ::Two guests, clad in plate armor and standing proud before the two humans were a pair of Unicorns. Slowly Tasha approached them and extended her right arm towards them, her flesh and blood arm. One of them, slightly smaller than its friend shook its mane and stepped towards her, lowering its head to sniff at her hand. She carefully petted it, her eyes brimming with tears of joy, the fear of moments ago completely forgotten. With a wide grin she looked over her shoulder at Cory.:: MacFarlane: Cory…look...Unicorns…it’s m’ dreams come true! --- E. Reynolds: I just… ::She kept her voice low, her words for the other woman alone.:: If we wake up and this is all… if *we're* not… ::She trailed off, unable to quite bring herself to say it.:: I just want to say that it doesn't matter. The way I feel about you, that's real. Marshall: ::Quietly,:: I know, sheya. I know. It's real for me too. ::She looked between them, at their laced fingers, and gave them a gentle squeeze.:: It'll be all right. Whatever happens, it'll be all right. ::She tried to smile, but it wouldn't quite come, worry lines running in parallel across her forehead. Swallowing, Erin reached for her partner, cupping her face in her hands and scooting up onto her tiptoes to steal a kiss fraught with fear and desperate affection. Jo pulled her close, arms around her waist, hands splayed on her back. Erin could feel her emotions reflected back at her, the aching sense that this was somehow a goodbye.:: Marshall: Whatever happens, whoever we are, I'm yours. ::Her voice wobbled in a way that made Erin's throat hurt, even more so when Jo tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, her skin tingling in the wake of her touch.:: Time to take a deep breath and face whatever this is together. --- ::He pirouetted his body around, darting forward towards the golden shade. It was an experience not dissimilar to swimming, but there was no water resistance, and it was solely a mental effort. His new body was a construct after all. Still holding Erin's hand, they travelled together towards the golden shade, who looked eerily similar to Erin's, except that she was clearly wearing a Starfleet uniform.:: Sim: It's not me, she is wearing a Starfleet uniform, right? E. Reynolds: She is, yes… Sim: Good. ::clearing his throat:: Quinn Reynolds. --- :: He kicked his knee out frantically and noticed a crack of light come through. He kicked again, causing the crack to become larger. He could hear the excitement from the voices but still, no idea who they were. He pushed out with his elbow and a different crack of light appeared. Yiggtissi began to shuffle his entire body and beams of light began to appear from everywhere. Suddenly, bright light rushed in blinding him once again. His stomach turned a bit as he felt as though someone picked him up and held him in mid-air. The cold air rushing around his body causing him to lose his breath. :: :: The white light began to fade slowly and his vision started to clear. The blurry images began to focus and in his mind, he was shocked. He saw the young face of his mother, who was holding him under his arms, his body dangling in the air. A loving smile streamed across her face as she turned to her husband, who was peering over her shoulder. :: Cairittin: Look at him, Tuk. Isn’t he wonderful? Tukmeeh: He has your eyes, Cairittin. --- :: Samira walked over to one of the cabinets and opened the door. Dozens of yellow rubber ducks fell out of the cabinet, quaking and making other noises. She slammed the door shut, ready to give the door another beating with her fist but stopped. There was no point, she'd only hurt her already fragile fingers. Instead she bent down, took one of the rubber ducks and threw it in the direction of the still dancing isolinear chips on the table, trying to break its formation. A couple of those chips jumped up, letting the duckie pass. The duck bounced from the table to the wall behind it, grew a set of wings and flew out the door into the corridor, quaking loud as if it was laughing at all of them. :: :: She took a few steps back and leaned against the bulkhead next to the doorway, crossing her arms in front of her. :: --- MacFarlane: ‘ow, what, who are yeh? ::The yellow teeth what showed from the smile disconcerted Cory. The beard was impressive Cory thought, as the little dude stroked it.:: Skar: A good question gal. What d’ ya want ta call me? ::He held up a hand before either of them could speak:: Sorry, that was not a very useful answer, I know. Ya can call me Skarbek, but I prefer Skar, but I will let you use whatever is better for ya mon. MacFarlane: Skarbek...yer named after our ship? Skar: Ya ship? Na mon, ya mah crew, I’m not ya ship. Ya didn’t think o’ that did ya gal. --- Reynolds: What the— ::Her gaze landed on Erin, and she scowled.:: You. ::Erin sucked in a sharp breath. Clearly something had happened between the two sisters in that moment.:: Sim: Commander Reynolds - Reynolds: Get out of my head. --- Skar: ::smiling widely:: Ey gal, its no troubal. Once ya undastand tha world ya live in, it is easy ta shape. Now go on, who knows how long that passage will remain open for ya mon. ::Tasha glanced at Cory, then back to Skar. He nodded encouragingly. Still unconvinced she looked to the Unicorns who neighed and pawed at the ground, gesturing with their horns for them to enter. Seeing no other option than to continue roaming the Highlands, Tasha dropped to her hands and knees and began crawling into the hole. It slowly widened, eventually to the point where Tasha could stand.:: ::Looking around Tasha was surprised, they appeared to be back on the Skarbek, in one of its narrow corridors. She looked back over her shoulder and saw Cory behind her, and no sign of the tunnel they had just passed through, only more corridor. Frowning she opened the nearest door and carefully stepped through, into the deflector maintenance bay, which had been her original goal.:: --- :: Ayiana brought up a biological scanning suite, and started scanning the pool of blood. It quickly returned a result; just not the one she was expecting. The top screen had a strange game playing out - a yellow smiley head eating through a row of dots, all leading through a maze to the center with a coin-like object. Four ghost-looking characters were chasing it. :: Sevo: Hmm. Very interesting. Neathler: Yeah very. --- Reynolds: Well, half. ::She didn't even attempt a smile at her own, half-hearted joke.:: My Dad... I think he's relieved too, underneath it all. And my brother and sister. She– ::Whatever Quinn had been about to say, it was lost as the sentence died in her throat. She shook her head and stared out past the shattered walls of sickbay, where a setting sun painted a rippling sea in shades of ruby and bronze. Sister? Singular? Didn't she have *two*?:: Reynolds: I love you, Walter. ::He flushed and stiffened, wanting to take a step backward and yet somehow unable to. What in the flaming hells was this? The words rang familiar in his ears, and feelings began to uncoil in his chest that echoed them. But what about Carys? How could some dream conversation feel more real that the memories of the woman he'd *married*? ::Quinn looked at him, a fragile smile on her face, as though she'd been expecting his reaction, playing out her part in the dream-memory without missing a beat.:: Reynolds: I'm not asking anything of you. I don't expect you to do anything about it. But you should know; you're loved. That's all I came here to say. --- :: Tired of everything Samira brushed away the figure that was still pulling at her hand. The girl fell on her bum in the middle of the table, yet stubbornly stood up, returned to Samira's hand, grabbed her thumb and started pulling again. Samira looked at the others not knowing what to do. Maybe she should just go back to her quarters and get some sleep. What if that was the solution to everything? She looked back at the girl on the table. The girl was now holding some kind of device in front of her mouth and shouted something through it. :: Girl: Follow the yellow brick road. Neathler: What yellow brick road? --- Skar: Ya mon! Ya know what I’m talkin’ about! ::Cory mumbled something vile under his breath and headed to assist Sparks. She grabbed the panel that was over the components they needed to fix and pulled it off. There was a sudden gasp from the little dude. Cory looked over at him.:: Skar: Ey gal! Be gentle! Those are mah insides ya are pullin’ an’ tossin’ around. --- ::Trellis could see the Trill coming out of her stupor, eyes fluttering open. She was still struggling to regain consciousness, let alone understand what was happening. He was fully cognizant of everything and didn't understand.:: Krugol: I-... Vondaryan: Shut it, just relax. ::To the others.:: We've got to get through that door. Thoughts on how to proceed? --- Sienelis: Ri'ran! ::Diverting away from the door, Valesha darted over to the woman and took her hands, trying to pull her to her feet. The woman didn't move, or even acknowledge Valesha's existence, going about her data entry as though there wasn't a full-grown adult tugging at her wrists.:: Johns: What's wrong with her? She's like a- Sienelis: Chris, please, help me! ::She looked at him with wide eyes.:: It's my mother, we can't leave her in here… she's going to— ::There was a dull, clunking sound that echoed through the bay. None of the inhabitants seemed to pay it much mind, barring a few stray glances, having got used to the odd sounds that the ship made around them and having little experience in living aboard a starship. But those who did, recognised it for the dire warning that it was. In response, Valesha pulled every more frantically at her mother's arms, but it was like trying to shift a statue.:: --- ::Cory quickly looked around, but didn’t see any umbrella except the one the little due was holding. Stepping forward he made a grab for it. He missed and the little dude quickly stepped away and just as fast bopped Cory on the head with the umbrella. He had never seen anyone move that fast. Cory growled a bit and tried to grab the umbrella again. And again he was bopped on the head. Cory swung a punch at the little dude. All of his frustration and anger boiling over. Missing and getting bopped again. Cory stepped back. The rain was continuing to fall. His head hurt from the boppings.:: oO All of this over an umbrella. Oo --- Reynolds: We'll take the turbolift. ::She glanced sideways at Nkai.:: Just stay with us a little while longer. ::He nodded, pain lining his ghost-white face and she guessed that was all he was capable of at this point. They shuffled forward, moving as fast as Nkai could manage, lurching toward the turbolift.:: ::Corliss slowly shuffled with him, seeing his pale face. Last time she saw someone that pale, they threw up in her lap at one of the bars her friends had dragged her too. Yuck. She knew this was from pain though, although she couldn't fault the man if he lost his lunch.:: --- ::Again Genkos kept quiet, waiting for Quinn to respond. She was clearly trying to decide what to tell them, if anything.:: Reynolds: Everyone aboard the Skarbek is a actually a Starfleet officer, and we serve aboard the same ship. Right now, someone is trying to steal that ship and I haven't yet figured out what purpose the collective dream has in— ::She stopped, frowning, and Genkos shivered. It seemed her realisation had made him cold:: Sim: What is it? Reynolds: My command codes. ::She shook her head.:: The codes you were after in the dream. They're actually the Gorkon's command codes. --- Sevo: Make...it...stop… *hurk* :: As the loop leveled out, Ayiana saw them heading towards a bright blue nebula. But instead of heading into it, the car looped around and towards a star; far too close for Ayiana’s comfort. She could feel the heat emanating from the cosmic fusion plant. Ayiana closed her eyes, and braced for collision with the dwarf star. When she expected to hit the surface, they instead flew right *through* the star, and back into darkness. Moments later, the car slowed and lurched to a stop. The bars around her retracted, and Ayiana scrambled out as fast as she could. :: Smith: WOHOO! That was fun. Can we do it again red!? Lanta: It was average at best Sevo: :: Heaving. :: ‘L-lemme ‘lone. *Hurk*--! :: Poor Cory. He worked so hard on that stew. :: Neathler: ::Grumbling. :: Leave me alone. Just give me a minute. --- ::Determined burned behind her blue eyes as she stared at the doctor, seized by whatever crackpot idea she'd had. The question was, was it completely crackpot, or only dreamworld crackpot?:: Marshall: Can you induce a hemorrhage? Without beating me to a pulp. ::Completely crackpot, then.:: Brunsig: ::He pinched his nose.:: What fresh new hell is this. --- ::In the distance Tasha heard the loud whistle of a steam locomotive, and, just as the rain around them changed to lumps of falling coal, Skar stepped close to them and the madness vanished. The rain remained, but thankfully it was a liquid once more, although it had taken on a smoky, black taint.:: Skar: See mon. I’m on ya side. I’m tryin’ ta protect ya from, oh hey wow! Another one bites the dust! MacFarlane: Another one bites th’ dust? Stoyer: What are you talking about? Skar: Ya doctor, the Saurian ya call Yiggs. He woke up! --- ::The young one, barely out of childhood by the looks of him, paced back and forth. Bondon kept his eyes down, assessing the situation.:: Smith: Let’s start with your name. What is it? Bondon: ::He snorted.:: Like I'm going to tell you that. Bondon don't tell nobody his name. --- Everyone: Three! Two! One! ::He closed his eyes one more time. The shiny walls were at least not full of desiccated bodies. That was a plus.:: Vondaryan: Where are we now? I- I don't recognize this place. --- Sevo: How rude. Perhaps a fist to your face might loosen your tongue? :: Ayiana raised a balled fist towards Bondon’s face threateningly. :: Bondon: No, I don't think I will. Maybe *you'd* like a punch to the face! :: Before she could react, Bondon somehow freed himself from the ropes, and swung a blade that he had somehow managed to get a hold of. Ayiana jumped back, trying to dodge the knife, but she wasn’t quite fast enough; the knife cut a large hole in her shirt. :: Lanta: Watch out! Sevo: Oy! This is my favorite shirt! --- Lladre: Then that's our cue to leave. Alert the others, we'll meet them aboard our ship. ::There was one last thing to do before they left. As Ana contacted the rest of their team, Lladre shifted the one device they had yet to use to the centre of the bridge, tapping out a few quick commands. Lights flashed into existed on its control panel, flicking on and off in something that looked suspiciously like a countdown.:: Lladre: We're set. Let's go. ::Ana nodded, and three transporter beams materialised on the bridge, stealing away the two thieves and the unique device they'd used to pacify the crew. Through the confinement beam, she could see people starting to stir, and was entirely unable to resist a mischievous wave as she vanished in front of their eyes::
  2. 12 points
    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!
  3. 10 points
    @KDrex and I made a tribute video for the fleet! Congratulations on 25 years and more to follow where no man has gone before!
  4. 10 points
    My access to the internet is limited and I have not been able to post sims or mention things I'd like to here, now since I have some time today I am going to give some praise to the people who have helped me and been great friends and influences since I have joined. I am unsure of all the character and username differences that may exist so I will tag everyone with their character name. First, shout out goes to @Lael Rosek !!! Who was my academy instructor as well as my mentor once I had graduated and joined the Veritas! You helped me a lot by getting me in touch with people when I needed it and by always giving me great suggestions, explanations, and tips! I appreciate that you were so willing to work with my hard headed eagerness and you have done a great job of it at that! Next, I would like to thank @Roshanara Rahman @Mei'konda @Skyfire and @Sky Blake. All four of you have taken the time on many occasions to allow me to run my ideas by you and/or ask questions about the wiki and have given me good feedback. Thanks to Y'all I have been able to incorporate my ideas into our stories and I have re-learned the few things I once knew about editing wiki's and have learned much more as well. Next, a shout out to @German Galven. You have helped me develop my characters greatly IC since you joined us. I enjoyed your use of my NPC Sissel in your sims and I look forward to our future JP's and character interactions. I have also enjoyed watching you hone your wiki and forum skills and become a fairly large contributor and active member of the community, I hope to match you at this one day when my living situation allows for better internet use and interaction, and I look forward to working with you more in this way at that time. Lastly a LARGE shout out to @Moonsong @Kelrod @Alora DeVeau and the several other members of the Veritas and Montreal Crew's who have allowed me to share some great stories with them and their characters! Sorry, I don't have time to link sims or find the proper names to tag. p.s. I'd like to also thank the community and staff in whole for making this community so fun to be a part of! -Cory Hall, CoryCodeRed. T'Katt Dugoras/Kawakame Shin.
  5. 8 points
    (( Corridors en route to Main Sickbay - USS Gorkon )) :: Ayiana and Emilia had taken the ride in the turbolift down to Deck 7 in silence. Much to Ayiana’s embarrassment, she had completely overlooked the thought that Krugol would want to be with Ferier’s side. She didn’t even know the pair had any sort of relationship, at least not outside the quickly fading Dream. Then again, Ayiana was often quite oblivious and dense to such things. Her motivation for being at Ferier’s side during the Joining was to make sure it went well, and that she was there in case Ferier or Doctor Yiggtissi needed help or advice. :: Sevo: I’m sorry, Ensign. It didn’t occur to me that you’d want to be there when I...erm...volunteered to come down. Krugol: ::Emilia replied with a soft sniffle.:: It’s not your fault, sir. F-Ferier and I didn’t exactly make our relationship public for all the ship to see. :: The corridor they’d arrived in was almost eerily silent. As Ayiana and Emilia continued through the empty decks, nothing seemed to change. The same monotone doors, passing by the same coloured bulkheads. The familiarity of it all was somewhat comforting. At least that was one thing in her life that wasn’t about to change. Emilia dragged a cold finger across her face, attempting to sweep away the remainder of her breakdown on the bridge.:: Sevo: It is none of our business, anyway. Krugol: I guess you’re not wrong :: After a few moments, Ayiana stopped walking suddenly, and pounded a fist into the corridor wall. :: Sevo: Dammit! Why am I even coming? You were right; Ferier needs *you*, not me. And with Doctor Hahn on board, Doctor Yiggtissi has all the expert Trill advice he needs. :: Massaging her fist. :: Ow. :: Emilia jumped at the sudden impact on the wall. Her eyes locked with Ayiana’s reddened fist as it hit the wall. Her shocked expression desperately searched for something to say, but nothing seemed to come to mind. Emilia carefully stared at the commander’s angered features, hoping that by some possibility she would be able to say something reassuring.:: Krugol: Commander… you’re our first officer, and more than ever we need you to be there. I know for a fact that you may not have much of a relationship with Ferier, but for many of us onboard… much like the admiral, you give us the morale to keep going. It’s at times like this where we need you… sir. :: Emilia spoke anxiously, attempting to calm the angered trill before her. She was almost at a loss of reassuring words. Emilia had hoped that something she’d said got through to Ayiana.:: :: Ayiana turned to her fellow Trill, smiling. She never really thought she was that vital to the crew. Ayiana was well-aware that she tended to be introverted and quiet. :: Sevo: Really? I didn’t know. I’ve never been one for socializing, and I didn’t think I had that much of an effect on the crew. oO Maybe it’s this red collar. Perhaps it’s not as tight as I thought. Oo Krugol: Your reputation says otherwise. I-I’m not speaking for all of us junior officers when I say this, but... we look up to you, not just you, but to the senior staff. You’re an inspiration to those of us trying to reach a point in our lives where we’re accomplished enough to be validated in our Captain’s, or Admiral’s eyes. Instead of being seen ‘as that ensign I now know the name of, but will probably forget later’. A-And we see you as a person who’s reached a stage where we adore you, we adore how accomplished you are, we adore your ability to stay cool under pressure and we adore how much you’ve worked to even be here. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through to earn the privilege to sit next to the Admiral. Right now.. more than ever, we need you to be there for us, Ferier needs you. :: Emilia smiled at Ayiana, returning her smile with a soft, closed mouth giggle. An odd feeling of ease seemed to come about reassuring her fellow crewmate. She offered her hand in a friendly gesture, semi motioning for Ayiana to follow.:: :: Ayiana paused at Emilia’s words. It warmed her heart to hear the younger Trill woman say those things. At the moment, Ayiana could only stand there in the empty corridor as Emilia continued. :: Krugol: Someday, I hope I’ll be like you. I hope I’ll learn to be like you... Lieutenant Marshall, Lieutenant zh’Aella, Lieutenant MacFarlane and even Ferier… so I can tell stories of my time in Starfleet in god knows how many lifetimes. The stories of the ship named the Gorkon, and all of its wonderful people that kept me going, and inspired me to become more than I ever could be. Sevo: I...uh...I don’t know what to say… Krugol: ::Emilia stared at the commander.:: For now, w-we should get moving. They won’t wait up If Kian gets there first… ::Emilia replied, returning to her usual dainty, pitched tone of voice.:: Sevo: You’re right. And thanks, Ensign. (( Main Sickbay – USS Gorkon )) ::The medical staff had once again settled as Dr. Yiggtissi and Dr. Hahn prepared to begin the Joining. It was a rather disquieting scene but as the seasoned physicians began, a wave of confidence rushed over the attending staff. Yiggtissi thought back to his training and recalled the simulations he had participated in, almost as easily thumbing through a medical journal. He quickly looked up at Hahn who appeared calm, if a little troubled. It was clear by his methodical movements that the Trill clinician was no stranger to this practice. :: ::Yiggtissi turned his eyes to Ferier. The very mild sedative that he had administered early was in full effect, as Ferier’s eyes opened and closed at random. It was standard practice in Joinings for both parties to remain awake with local anesthesia being used at the site of the incision. Hahn had prepared the opening on Ferier as Yiggtissi waited by the small stasis table that had been pulled close.:: ::Lanta laid back on the biobed. Usually, he felt calm but on this occasion, his nerves were jumping as if electric was running through him. He had left the Bridge without a word to Emilia, hoping that wouldn’t be a regret and hoping when the Symbiont was implanted he felt the same he still wished he had said something, anything to her. His feelings ran deep for Emilia in a short time he had come to love everything about her. Lanta had no idea if Emilia felt the same, although he suspected she did. In a very short time, she had become the most important person to him and he had just turned and gone to sickbay to be changed forever a blending of personalities of memories. Lanta was nervous and scared. It never occurred to him not to be a host any more than it could occur to him not to breathe. He was approved by the Commission and had spent his all life preparing to join. Why then now did he have second thoughts, was he really that scared of losing Emilia. Lanta turned to the Chief Medical Officer and the Counsellor all the nurses and other medical staff. He was missing people. He wanted friends, family, and loved ones. Yes, there was the Trill medical officer but as he didn’t know him he didn’t count. He wanted Emilia there to be the first thing he saw as a joined Trill:: Lanta: Doc, ::To Yiggtissi.:: Can I have Ensign Krugol here with me, please? Yiggtissi: Of course. I’ll call her down. Lanta: Thank you, Doctor. ::Hahn's dark eyes flicked over toward Lanta, a small frown of concern drawing his greying brow together.:: Hahn: Are you sure? This is an ending, as much as it is a beginning. Lanta: I am, I have to do this for me and Kian. ::The doors to sickbay slid open once again revealing Lieutenant Commander Sevo and Ensign Krugol. They quickly made their way to the side of Ferier. Yiggtissi had completely forgotten how much support the young man would need once the Joining was complete. Usually, family and friends were in attendance during and after to make the adjustment from host to host. Yiggs was happy to see Sevo in that respect. As for Krugol, he assumed she had come to offer the same, having no knowledge of the delicate relationship the two officers had formed. :: Yiggtissi: ::Looking back at Ferier, smiling,:: Well it would appear she heard your request from the bridge. ::Lanta’s heart leaped with joy as he saw Emilia come into the sickbay. He was quite surprised to see Sevo. Working on the Bridge he had worked alongside her a lot but never really on a personal level. As he thought about it he realised he was happy she was there. It was fitting that as a Trill she was there too.:: Sevo: We wanted to be here, both as emotional support- :: gesturing to Krugol. :: -and in case you need any help or advice. ::Lanta was grateful for the both of them. Looking at Emilia he understood what potentially they were both giving up for the sake of Kian.:: Krugol: Ferier! Lanta: Emilia! ::Emilia embraced the man she’d called her love with open arms. Her arms coiled around his body tightly, almost refusing to let go. Emilia took a deep breath, she was truly uncertain with how things would go. Maybe by some miracle, the symbiont wouldn’t overwhelm his personality, maybe by some miracle, she wouldn’t have to let go. Emilia shifted her gaze, quickly scanning the room around her. From the looks of it, the inevitable was almost upon them. Just how much would the pair really lose once that time comes? After a brief moment, Emilia surrendered her tight hold on Ferier. She took a step back.:: Sevo: oO Well, this is awkward. Oo ::Lanta returned the hug. Of all the people he wanted close Emilia was at the top of the list. He would have also wished for Groznin to be there as his friend and Jo as his colleague plus the Admiral. Realising that shipboard matters were of the uppermost importance he was overjoyed that she had allowed Emilia and Sevo to be there. Tears formed in his eyes and he blinked them away.:: ::After a few minutes had passed, the sound of a transporter signal began to hum and the familiar shape of a teardrop began to materialize on the small table. Yiggtissi flipped open his tricorder and waved it quickly over the symbiont. The screen scrolled through several images and various bits of information as the Saurian processed it all. :: ::Ayiana stared at the tiny life form on the table. It was hard to imagine, even to a Trill, that the little mass of primarily brain tissue could contain so much knowledge and memories. Yet for all that, it was incredibly fragile. Ayiana often wondered what evolutionary pressures forced such a being into existence - needing another life form to explore its surroundings. Otherwise, a Symbiont was completely and utterly at the mercy of predators. The prehistoric Symbionts would have had to have unwavering trust in any creature they came across. :: Sevo: How is Kian? ::She referred to the Symbiont by name, rather than simply "the symbiont" as many aliens were keen to do.:: Yiggtissi: Its life signs are fluctuating slightly which I can only assume is a sign of post-stasis shock. We should begin immediately. ::Hahn nodded in silent agreement. The Trill doctor was unusually quiet, and despite his professional demeanour, there was the distinct sense that he was unsettled about something — the procedure, or perhaps his participation in it.:: Sevo: Yeah, it can’t survive long outside of a host or it’s spawning pools. Krugol: The sooner, the better. :: Yiggtissi carefully picked up the small creature and turned back to the biobed. As Yiggtissi held the Kian symbiont in his hands, he could feel the warmth emanating from it. He could almost feel the lives of several lifetimes in his hands as he placed the symbiont on Ferier’s stomach. He looked at Hahn who frowned slightly and gave a quick nod. :: Ayiana approached the bed where Ferier was laying. He was garbed in the usual dull hospital gown, except it had a large opening over his abdomen. She still wasn’t sure why she wanted to be here; her sudden request on the bridge surprised even her. Doctor Hahn was aboard and participating in the Joining, and Ensign Krugol was more than capable of being Ferier’s emotional support. Perhaps Ayiana felt she was taking on a more of a "maternal" role with Ferier. :: ::Emilia stood at Ferier’s side, her hand holding tightly to his. She watched as the symbiont was placed on Ferier’s stomach, it was a strange sight, to say the least. Not many individuals ever got the chance to witness a living Trill Symbiont, nevertheless witness an implantation. Emilia’s hand trembled with a cinch of fear as she looked upon the symbiont. A sour taste laced her tongue. Despite the beautiful sight, it was certainly a very decisive view. It wasn’t Emilia’s place to question Ferier’s decision, nor did she think she could sway the man in the wake of saving legacies worth of experience. A tear effortlessly slid down Emilia’s cheek, carelessly landing on the back of her hand.:: ::Lanta laid on the biobed, thanks to the mild sedative and the closeness of Emilia he was now relaxed. He gripped Emilia’s hand tightly but somehow also gently. This above all he did not want to lose. It was his duty and privilege to become a host. It was also his privilege and honour to be with Emilia this above all he would not change. He understood there would be changes, after all, he was going to absorb several lifetimes of experiences and memories. Maybe if he thought of nothing but Emilia he would essentially remain as deeply in love with her as he did now. Mentally he sent a message to the Symbiont, mess with my feelings about Emilia and I will rip you out. Life without Emilia wasn’t living it was just existing:: ::Doctor Hahn. It was strange seeing him. He was yet another doppelganger from the alternate reality Ayiana and much of the Gorkon crew were trapped in over a year ago. But his prime counterpart from this universe was an unjoined Guardian named Kael Tam who helped Toran with his zhian’tara. Due to the traumatic death of Toran, his memories were buried by the Sevo symbiont. Later, Ayiana ran across Tam on the Gorkon, now a Starfleet officer, who had recognized the Symbiont name Sevo, and was instrumental to Ayiana in remembering Toran and beginning the process of unlocking his buried memories. Unfortunately, Kael Tam had died Over There, and Ayiana rarely saw Hahn. So it was with mixed feelings that she was working with him today. :: Lanta: Is everything OK? Hahn: Kian's a little weak. ::He glanced at the readings on the biobed, frowning.:: It looks as though it's been in stasis for quite a while. ::For a moment, it looked as though he had more to say, but after he glanced toward Lanta, he held his tongue. Ferier’s heart flipped back and forth as he took looks at both the Symbiont and Krugol. He hoped that following the implantation his feelings would be as strong for the beautiful Trill as they were now. :: Lanta: oO Please let this symbiont be OK. Oo :: Ayiana moved to the head of the biobed. :: Sevo: I want to check with you one more time, Ferier. Are you doing this for yourself, or out of an obligation to save the symbiont? Despite what the Commission often says, its life is not more important than your own. You have free will. Lanta: I’m doing it for both, Commander! Sevo: If you think this is not for you, or you are not ready, say so now. In four days, this will be permanent. :: Lanta looked at the symbiont and then at Emilia. So many gains and so many potential losses, well one loss. Was the price worth the cost? He hated himself for the answer, but it was yes. To preserve the memories and experiences of several lifetimes his and Emilia’s emotions came second best.:: Lanta: The time is now, please proceed. :: Ayiana smiled, giving Ferier a light pat on the shoulder. :: Krugol: You’re going to be okay Ferier. I-I’m here. ::Emilia’s delicate grip tightened around Ferier’s tender hand. Her hand began to tremble as each moment ticked past. It was like watching a countdown. Waiting for each second to tick past felt like an eternity in her eyes. Each eternity she attempted to cherish with her beloved. Each eternity of seconds, moulding into countless minutes that ticked by unnoticed, lost in those precious seconds.:: Lanta: Thank you, Emilia ::Yiggtissi watch the interaction between Krugol and Ferier and as he did, flashes of his wife ran across his mind. He had remembered, briefly, being with them on Trill but what happened after that, he had no clue. He knew that over time, those memories would return but at the moment, it was very disconcerting not knowing. :: Yiggtissi: Everything is normal, Ferier. Simply relax. Sevo: Have you opened his pouch yet, Doctor? Hahn: ::Mildly,:: No backseat doctoring, Commander. Sevo: Sorry. ::Hahn shook his head, accepting her apology with a tired, kind smile. As infractions went, it hardly registered, and he turned his attention toward Ferier and Yiggtissi.:: Hahn: Are we all ready? Yiggtissi: Let’s proceed. Lanta: Yes! ::Yiggtissi gently picked up the Kian symbiont as Hahn slowly opened the small flap of skin on Ferier’s stomach. He slowly inserted the living mass inside Ferier and watched a part of the symbiont attached itself to the young Trill’s insides. It burrowed deep and as soon as it settled, its color immediately began to improve, turning from a pinkish-grey to a deep brownish-red. Yiggtissi shot a nod toward Hahn and he expertly and neatly closed the pouch. Grabbing the tricorder from the side of the bed and starting at the implant site, he began a careful diagnosis. The little device began to spit out information as Yiggtissi waved it up and down the length of Ferrier’s body. After several seconds, he closed it up and set it down. Looking over at Ferier, a smile stretched across his face as though he had suddenly walked from a cold room into the warm rays of a beaming sun.:: Yiggtissi: How do you feel? ::Kian looked at where the Symbiont had been placed and subsequently Joined with him. The picture that would stay with him forever was the image of Emilia looking down in concern. As the symbiont settled into place, memories flew through him each new second revealing a past that was his and yet not his. Emilia, the thought of her still made his heart jump. Amazingly and thankfully he still felt the same about her. Memories from Kudrem filled him. She had been a willing accomplice, and had agreed to the removal of Kian, knowing that it might result in its death. This would need to be discussed with the Admiral later. He had more important things to resolve right now:: Ferier Kian: I am whole ::He looked toward Emilia,:: Emilia… I love you that has not changed! ::Emilia drew a shaky breath, reaching out a hesitant hand towards Ferier. She questioned, just how much of him was left. Was it Kian talking? Or was it really him? Once that first tear fell, the rest followed along in an unbroken, constant stream. Emilia’s hand broke away from Ferier’s as she pressed it against the biobed. With her free hand, she covered her mouth, begging for nobody to see her in such an ugly state, muffling her suffocating sobs. Her mind was a cluttered mass of emotions, filled to the brim with relief, mixed with fear, fighting against her churning sorrows and anxieties. In reality she had nothing to worry about, he was alive and well. Emilia’s stomach gurgled in an almost sickly manner, as her face was drenched with the wet stains of her anxieties. She fought her first instincts to hug him in reassurance.:: Krugol: ::Muffled.:: F-Ferier ::Hahn glanced between the pair, another frown creasing his brow, though once again he kept silent on whatever thoughts were running through his mind.:: :: Ayiana hoped Ferier’s feelings for Emilia would remain. His personality could still change as the Symbiont’s memories and personality slowly blended with his own. The pair was going to have a rough few days as they tried to figure out the new Ferier Kian. :: Sevo: How are you feeling? The initial rush of memories can be disorienting. Kian: To say the least, so many memories. Sevo: Take some time to acclimate yourself to your new...um...you. You’ll find a lot of things have changed. Kian: And a lot of things have remained the same. ::Kian looked at Emilia. It was amazing, even with new memories and experiences she still looked as beautiful as when he was Lanta. He held her hand, not willing to ever let it go:: Krugol: ::Emilia looked to the doctors.:: Doctor.. May I hug him? Kian: oO Say yes, Doctor Oo ::Hahn glanced between the pair of them, the frowning shifting to make room for a worn, gentle smile. He nodded, gesturing toward Ferier.:: Hahn: Of course. Physically, he's fine. Kian: So can I get up as well? :: Kian, without waiting stood and moved towards Emilia. His arms raised ready to embrace her. He felt a little weak, but then considering what the entire crew had been through it wasn’t a surprise.:: ::Emilia graced Ferier with a smile, almost knocking him over with a longing hug.:: Krugol: I’m glad you’re okay… ::Kian practically fell in to her arms.. Laughing and crying tears flowed freely. Maybe it was due to the implantation as he had never been overly emotional before. He pulled Emilia in closer. He could smell the scent from her hair. The closeness of her made him weak at the knees. Her shape fit in snugly as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face deeper in to her shoulder.:: Kian: I am OK, ::To the Doctor:: Am I cleared for duty, Doctor? Sevo: I’d suggest he at least be checked out by a counselor. Yiggtissi: I’d say take it slow for the next twenty-four hours but I see no reason to keep you here. And I agree with the first officer, you should see Ensign Fortune right away. :: Yiggtissi nodded and watched the two lovebirds held each other close, locked together like two swirling galaxies ready to collide. He removed the red tunic, revealing his duty vest underneath. Yiggtissi felt as though he had been awake for days but there was no stopping just yet. There were shift assignments to approve, files from new transfers to examine, reports to read on the status of Nkai and he needed to speak with Denato. He glanced back over his shoulder and watched as Ferier and Krugol sat on the bed, still glued together. A smile stretched across his face. He wasn’t quite sure what provoked Kian to remove her symbiont and leave it for dead. Was it just a ploy to make a quick escape? If so, then she was more cold-hearted than anyone realized. :: fin Lieutenant (JG) Ferier Lanta/Kian HCO Officer USS Gorkon G239501FL0 & Lieutenant Yiggtissi, MD Chief Medical Officer USS Gorkon G239406Y10 & Ensign Emilia Krugol Security/Tactical Officer USS Gorkon G239409EK0 & Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo First Officer USS Gorkon V239109AS0 & Doctor Kael Hahn Civilian T238401QR0
  6. 7 points
    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
  7. 6 points
    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!
  8. 6 points
    @Kayla Drex and @Maddi Hyden this was a great read, I really enjoyed it, good work ((239109.14 - Starfleet Academy - San Francisco, CA - Earth)) ::Kayla hadn’t been in the gym long, but her heart rate was already well over 130 bpm. The beating she was giving the holographic sparring partner looked like he’d said something particularly offensive about Kayla’s mother. The door to the gym hissed open, but Kayla didn’t register the sound at all, focusing instead on her training. ::She didn’t hesitate as a large Hirogen fist barrelled toward her stomach. Deftly stepping aside, she used the momentum to swing up onto the back of her would-be assailant, wrapping her legs around his midsection and landing a flurry of punches to the base of his skull. The padding armor he wore made it impossible to reach her, and her legs were too strong to disengage in front. ::A final jab resounded with a loud crack, and the hologram dissolved, dropping Kayla to the mat. She lay there panting and rubbing her bruised knuckles. Only now did she look toward the door.:: Drex: ::panting:: Hi Hyden: ::Shyly:: Hello :: The unexpected hello threw Maddi for a loop she didn’t expect, usually, when she came to the gym it was empty. She realized she was wearing a top that revealed her tattoo something she kept hidden. The person saying hi seemed to be very athletic from what Maddi observed, but she still didn’t know what she should do. She knew most people would say more, but she wasn’t most people. She just stood there awkwardly. :: Drex: ::Getting to her feet:: Um … how much of that did you see? Hyden: Well um….I saw you murder that holographic Hirogen like he did something to you...kinda frightening, as a first impression. Drex: See the thing is, I'm not usually so, er, decisively violent when I train. I just had a really trying morning. Hyden: I don’t normally do this, but what’s wrong? Drex: There’s this guy in one of my classes… German Galven. He’s been getting on my nerves, which is no small task. Hyden: Ahh well I have found the best way to take out my aggravation is doing the same, like you, but if you’d like a sparring partner I’d…….I’d join you. ::she said hesitantly.:: Drex: I think that'd be fun! I um … won't do what I just did to the Hirogen ::Kayla laughed a little embarrassed add she toweled off, got a drink of water, and tightened her gloves.:: Drex: What are you in the mood for? Is there a particular martial art you practice? Hyden: Well to start I feel an introduction is in order I’m Cadet Maddi Hyden. Also, I don’t think you’d get the chance with me that you got with that Hirogen. ::She laughed.:: Where do I start? I am a 10th Degree Black Belt in Judo, Karate, Jujitsu, Kenpo, and Tai Kwon Do, but I’m still learning more. The real question is what do you want to practice? Drex: You're absolutely right! Where are my manners? He must have gotten to me more than I realized. I'm Kayla. Kayla Drex. ::The two shook hands:: It sounds like you're very well-rounded, Maddi. Do you want to just improvise? My primary art is Jiu-Jitsu, but I've got a few others in there too. Hyden: I don’t usually talk to someone this soon, but I can say it’s great to meet you Kayla quite a stunning person if that’s ok to say. Improvisation? Hmm, what do you have in mind? Drex: Mix it up! You know, a bit of this, a bit of that. ::Kayla assumed a standard defensive Kung-fu stance, but arranged her hands in a Karate ready form.:: Hyden: I see if that’s the case. ::Maddi assumed her cover down position and got serious. She immediately lunged at Kayla, but not how she was expecting instead she swept her legs and took her to the ground. A slam could be audibly heard as Kayla hit the mat. She let out a small groan as she hit the mat. Maddi stood up and motioned for Kayla to get up.:: Hyden: Ok I’ll admit that was dirty, but you did say mix it up. ::she winked.:: ::Kayla stood up and smiled. Ok. She’d underestimated this new girl. Best not to do that again.:: Drex: Maybe a little dirty, but that’s part of improvisation, right? ::She watched Maddi as the pair began slowly circling. Kayla became instinctually aware of the smallest twitches of muscles in the girl’s arms and legs. She had scars on her arms that looked like she’d learned some hard lessons from weapons that weren’t exactly blunted for practice session. ::Kayla shifted most of her weight to her right foot, leaving just the toes of her left in contact with the mat. Her hands assumed a ready aggressive form. She assumed Maddi would not make the same attack twice, but assumptions are what landed her on the mat last time. When Maddi lunged this time, Kayla didn’t defend. She took the punch full in the stomach, flexing her abdominal muscles to absorb as much of the impact as possible. The wind was still knocked from her. She had the opening she needed though. Her ready left leg hooked between Maddi’s and arced upward. ::The move was a good one. It had landed even Philip (Kayla’s brother) on his butt countless times in their training. Kayla was therefore surprised to see Maddi roll backward and up to her feet with alarming speed.:: ::Though Maddi didn’t expect the move she expected something, but she brushed that off and got back up. The speed and reaction seemed to shock Kayla. Good it might let her understand just what Maddi knew. Maddi noticed her eying the scars on her arms. The truth was still as painful as when it happened. Abuse and pain from her childhood. The thoughts fueled Maddi’s adrenaline. She stood straight with feet facing forward. A usual fatal flaw in fighting. Kayla cautiously started an attack, but she had left her side open. Maddi immediately got into a defensive posture and threw a roundhouse quick with precision and speed that showed hours of training. Kayla faltered slightly, but didn’t fall.:: Hyden: Your form is good actually the best I’ve seen in awhile, but sometimes you have to know your opponents move. I know that sounds crazy, but it can be done. I see you’ve been looking at me quizzically why? oO Though need I actually ask. Oo Drex: Honestly? I’m trying to figure you out. I hope that doesn’t sound weird…. Hyden: Well, I don’t exactly know what you mean. ::They circled once again as Kayla continued:: Drex: Your scars - they don’t look particularly fresh, but they clearly happened over quite a span of time. My best guess if you’ve gone through some … difficult times. If they’re from training, your trainer was kind of a jerk. Still … the fact that’s all you have means you’re a formidable opponent, and a quick learner. ::Though not unexpected it threw Maddi off the way Kayla seemed to guess correctly in a way.:: Hyden: What are you trying to get at? Drex: Well, there aren’t two scars too close to each other. That means you didn’t make the same mistake in defense more than once. oO It means I can’t use the same attack twice Oo ::Kayla dove just to the right of her sparring partner as Maddi’s foot came swinging down in response. This time, Kayla responded correctly. Catching the foot with her crooked legs, she used her own momentum to unfoot her.:: ::Maddi fell to the floor, but instead of getting up tears starting running down her face. The past seemed to haunt her.:: Hyden: These scars are not from training. They have come from something much much worse. A pain and a fear that I still seem to cling too. ::She rubbed her fingers over the scars feeling ashamed.:: Abuse and bullying were a big part of this, but that’s two of the reasons the last well it’s the deepest secret I have and it’s the darkest moment of my past. ::Kayla didn’t really know how to respond to that. That was a lot of honesty from this otherwise quiet girl. Kayla rolled up to her knees next to Maddi, gently picked her hand up in her own, and simply held it. The two girls’ eyes met, and Kayla hoped that all the feelings coursing through her were conveyed.:: Drex: You’re here. Your past happened. However bad it was, you rose from the ashes. Is … is that why you have the Phoenix? Hyden: ::wiping a tear from her eye:: Yes, but it also reminds me of the fire I’ve brought in my life. My past has built me to be strong and take nothing from no one. Those ashes are numerous and they still reappear. I feel like I can trust you. My deepest pain is something I hope no one has to ever go through. ::Maddi pulled down her top revealing scars that explained just what she was hiding.:: Hyden: There’s more of these on my body and it has ruined my body. All the beauty of my body is now defiled and there’s nothing I can do about it. Drex: Maddi … ::Kayla paused for a moment to consider her words. The other girl said she trusted her. That spoke volumes about her strength of spirit. To go through such pain, but still retain the ability to trust - that took incredible fortitude. Kayla just couldn’t figure out how to convey this to the tear-stained, broken but rebuilt girl before her.:: Drex: You can trust me. Always. And not that you need it,::rubbing the spot where Maddi’s fist had connected:: but I’ll have your back, ok? Hyden: Thank you I’ve never opened up to anyone with this. It’s the one thing that haunts me and it seems like that will never go away. I’ll reverse your words and say I’ll have your back. This secret is something I hope we can keep between us. :Maddi’s face changed from the tear touched face to a face of resolve and strength. She stood to her feet and helped Kayla up. She embraced her in a hug something that entwined Maddi’s trust in her forever.:: Hyden: Well after that what should we even do? Drex: I think there’s only one option. We need brownie sundaes. ::The two chuckled as they walked, an arm each still around the other, out the door toward the smaller of the two dining halls on campus.:: ~ End ~ Simmed by: Lieutenant JG Kayla Drex Science Officer USS Eagle, NCC-74659 Image Collective Writer ID: E239510KD0 Science is life, art is soul, love is home Wiki: Kayla Drex ~ and ~ Ensign Maddi Hyden Security Officer USS Atlantis - NCC 74682 A239511MH0 There is no real security except for whatever you build inside yourself.
  9. 6 points
    ((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.
  10. 6 points
    ((OOC: A few months ago, I thought it'd a neat idea for IC interviews. With the help of @Kayla Drex and @Geoffrey Teller, we were able to come up with this! Thank you guys and if anyone else wants to be interviewed by a flamboyant and eccentric TV host, let me know!)) ((ICL Broadcast 27, Studio 9, San Francisco, California, North America, Earth)) ::The camera pans down on a modern news studio, replete with an enormous anchors desk, couch and chairs. Upon the desk, next to the oversized microphone is an assortment of sleek, hypermodern PADDS, all in the most fashionable colors, arranged in an eye pleasing rainbow. Entering the studio to raucous applause we see our host, Dresdon Mitchell, an almost artificially handsome human male with perfectly coiffed hair, an exceptionally well tailored, multi-chromatic suit and a high voltage smile.:: ::He strides to the desk confidently, clearly the Captain of this particular ship, and takes his seat with a dramatic flourish and crosses his leg over his knee with gusto. Behind him, the majestic San Francisco skyline twinkles like the stars and the Golden Gate bridge is perfectly framed. The camera settles on Dresdon as he, with false modesty, accepts the adulation of the crowd and settles in.:: Mitchell: ::smiles wide:: Hello, my name is Dresdon P. Mitchell and this is ICL, or the Intergalactic Comm Link if you've been living on Rura Penthe! On tonight's special episode, I’ll be showing you the gift of gab with a splendid young woman aboard a distant Starfleet vessel so you, my wonderful audience, can see where they've been Boldly Going and what they've been Boldly Doing! ::He then turned a quarter way in his chair and tapped a few demands on his PADD. The San Francisco skyline blurred as the image of a beautiful young officer wearing a teal Starfleet uniform was superimposed.:: Mitchell: ::smiles and arches both eyebrows:: Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between, I'd like to introduce you to my most special friend, Lieutenant Kayla Drex! Kayla is currently a science officer aboard the USS Eagle and she's doing a great job! Let's hear it for her folks! ::The crowd cheers enthusiastically:: Mitchell: Wonderful wonderful. How are you tonight, Kayla? Drex: I'm doing very well, Dresdon, thank you for having me on! How are you? Mitchell: ::chuckles:: My viewers already know how great I am! ::laughter from the crowd.:: So tonight is about you! How are you enjoying your time aboard the Eagle? Drex: I'm having the time of my life. I grew up hearing about all manner of deep space phenomena, and now I get to actually see and study it up close and personal! Maybe I'm just a huge goober, but this is like a dream come true for me. ::The crowd laughs supportively and finishes with an appreciative 'awwww':: Mitchell: Stop it, you'll make me blush! ::smiles and winks, crowd laughs:: That's wonderful to hear though, it's so moving when a young person like yourself has their dreams fulfilled by a life out there in the stars! Now, I understand from my notes here that you grew up with a very interesting family. Your father, Dr. Gulliver Drex is a renowned Quantum Physicist, winner of the 2261 Hawking Prize for his work in...particle...sya...well...folks I can't pronounce this!::laughter from crowd:: What was it like growing up in the presence of such a famous figure? Drex: I had the best of everything - not possessions; mom and dad always the value of living with a minimum of baggage, but as far as opportunity, I was never lacking. Between Dad, Mom, and my four brothers, there was never any lack of something … interesting happening. ::smiling to herself as though at an inside joke only she knew:: Mitchell: ::smiles and covers his mouth as if something was shocking:: Gasp, sounds like someone was playing with wormholes at home! ::hoots and laughs from the crowd:: My research team also received a note from one of your colleagues, a Lt. German Galven. ::a chorus of ascending ooOOOOOs from the crowd:: He said to make sure we ask you about your time together at the famed Starfleet Academy! Can you tell us what happened, KayKay? Apparently you two shared some classes but Mr. Galven says he graduated faster than you! ::shocked laughter and amused boos from the crowd:: Drex: I bet he did. I'll have to send him a message thanking him for his delightfully sharp memory. ::a little chuckle:: The Academy was honestly very different than I originally envisioned it being. In my mind, I imagined some cross between an ancient campus of brick buildings, state-of-the-art technology, and military boot camp. What I experienced however was a place where literally anything can and did happen. My last two years were actually self-directed study, because they didn't have classes for my specialization. That's what I mean though: they didn't just say, “Sorry, kid, you're just going to have to take the same thing as everyone else.” They heard my ideas, gave me guidance, and let the ideas grow. It was … incredible. Mitchell: Sure sounds that way! I do self-directed study myself all the time, mostly on the mating habits of our alien friends. ::raucous hoots from the crowd:: So, after the Academy, you went directly to the Eagle? Take us there with you, KayKay! First thing. Go! Drex: The first thing I did when I got on-board was introduce myself to the ship. That sounds kind of weird, but I used to walk around the woods by my house growing up, and I always kinda felt like they were watching over me - like they had a form of consciousness I couldn’t quite understand. The Eagle - and I guess all ships - she has a personality - I wanted her to know me, and know that I’m grateful for her. ::realizing this isn’t a 1-on-1 conversation:: Aaaaaand now everyone is going to think I’m crazy. Mitchell: ::laughs:: I’m sure nobody here thinks you’re crazy ::looks offscreen with a smirk:: Oo, it seems we only have a couple minutes left - before you go, I understand you’ve been promoted recently. Congratulations! How'd that feel? Drex: I was pretty surprised it happened so quickly to be honest. When Commander Oddas pinned on my new pip, I felt like I was flying. I’m starting to feel the weight it carries though. Mitchell: ::more awws from the crowd:: Aw, smart, lovely and humble! Starfleet sure knows how to pick them! Final question - After everything you've experienced, what’s the one piece of advice you'd like to pass on to all the impressionable young Kaylas watching right now? Drex: Never stop dreaming, always try to see from new perspectives, and never believe anyone who tells you “It can’t be done.” It just hasn’t been done. ::The smiling young officer is replaced by the circling Starfleet logo before it fades completely, again revealing the majestic San Francisco skyline. Dresden turns to look directly at the audience and camera.:: Mitchell: ::smiles wide:: Inspiring words from an inspiring young woman. Here from all of us at ICL, we wish you luck on your journeys, Lieutenant Kayla Drex - make us folks on the ground proud! That’s all we have for tonight, everyone. Tune in next time when ICL will once again bring the furthest frontiers of the Federation right into your living room with absolutely zero chance of getting space sick! GOOD NIGHT! ::the crowd cheers as the set lights come down and Dresden dramatically tosses his PADD aside, waving excitedly to the camera.::
  11. 6 points
    This exchange from a current Academy class made me laugh, so I wanted to share it.
  12. 5 points
    We’re here with another interview with a newer member of our community. The title of this column is “Lower Decks,” hearkening back to the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode titled “Lower Decks,” in which junior officers aboard the Enterprise-D speculate on the reasons for recent unusual actions taken by the command crew near the Cardassian border. This month’s interview is with the writer behind Lieutenant 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
  13. 5 points
    In case anybody wants to be crazy like me and have a physical copy of this calendar, I made a .pdf of the calendar images. Enjoy! 😊 SB118 2396 calendar.pdf
  14. 5 points
    @Solkar Ah, man- the Vulcan sass is just wonderful! ((Main Sickbay, USS Eagle)) :: Solkar strode into Sickbay with a sense of purpose and what might be called enthusiasm. He looked around the area, taking note of the biobeds, the monitors, supplies, desks and his fellow medical staff. A blur of blue moved in his peripheral vision, and he found a small Andorian standing in front of him. His rank was Lieutenant Commander. Solkar knew this was Doctor Foster, his Chief Medical Officer and direct supervisor:: Foster: Hey, you must be the new kid. Solkar, right? ::Solkar didn’t bristle at being called a ‘kid’, a sobriquet meant for those younger than himself. He assumed that this was Doctor Foster’s attempt at humor or bonding. Not to be confused with the Andorian matrimonial bonding.:: Solkar: Yes, sir. Doctor Solkar, at your service. Foster: Doctor Shar’Wyn Foster, chief medical officer. : I prefer Wyn. Doctor works. Never ‘Doc.’ I do respond to ‘hey you’ but you’ll get a lecture afterwards about it. Solkar: Wyn. ::He furrowed his brows, as if trying to identify a taste that he had not encountered before. :: Wyn. Yes, sir. I shall endeavor to follow your preference. ::The Doctor had a smirk on his face, and it pleased Solkar that he had correctly identified humor as being his superior officer’s predominant mode of informal communication. He decided to try his hand at it.:: Solkar: Yes, sir. Wyn. ::He caught himself.:: Should I ever lapse and call you “hey you”, I shall present myself forthwith so that you may proceed with the lecture at your convenience. I shall also make sure that a comfortable seat is available, as it will probably take some time. ::He allowed the right corner of his mouth to move up just a millimeter or so, hoping that the Andorian would recognize the attempt.:: Foster: Response Solkar: You are very kind, sir. Foster: So, Doctor Solkar, tell me, what’s your medical area of expertise? Solkar: At the Vulcan Medical Institute, and then at Starfleet Medical Academy, my major was surgery, on both the major and minor species. Occasionally, I read some on Xenobiology to stay up on new discoveries. Foster: Really? ::The Doctor showed interest, Solkar saw his antennae tip to one side. As they were both surgeons, Solkar assumed that would also be part of upcoming discussions:: That’s interesting. Is this your first posting? Solkar: Yes, sir. This is my first Starfleet posting. After graduating from the Institute, I was stationed at a hospital that specialized in treating veterans of the various wars and battles in our recent past. It was very gratifying to assist them. I believe my interest in Starfleet could be traced back to that assignment. I passed all of Starfleet’s requisite tests and this is where I find myself today. Foster: Response Ensign Solkar Medical Officer USS Eagle E239510S10
  15. 5 points
    As Commander Oddas says, the end of the posts with tags/tbs/NT/end is a ship to ship convention. Why do you not see this in the academy? We try to clean up the formatting of the academy to the most basic formatting possible. This means that cadets can concentrate on narration, tags and getting used to script style. Once you get to a ship, you may find that ships use additional formatting for specific reasons or for tradition or player comfort. Why do some ships use this? Partially it's habit for some players, a good way to end off sims. But some ships put some more meaning behind the endplate. For me, I use the following definitions: tags = there are tags for someone in this sim tbc = There may not be tags for someone in this sim, but there is the invitation to continue the scene if the other player wishes nt = no tags, for whatever reason fao = "for the attention of" - there are no tags for a character in this sim, but I'm calling attention to the fact that action in this sim affects other characters end (I use 'fin' because I'm a dork) = this scene is finished. =========================== IMHO, the difference between tbc and end: If you are writing a scene, there are basically two possibilities for what happens as the scene comes to a close: 1. It could seamlessly move to another scene (this happens frequently in missions. We just fixed the antimatter converter, now we're going to move to main engineering and make sure the warp drive in online in time to make a dramatic escape!) - I, personally, love the tbc end for this to let people know "hey, we're moving onwards!" 2. The scene could end there. It's a wrap. Time to start a completely different scene. - this could use tbc or end. tbc means "well I'm not sure if this scene is done, does anyone have anything else to add?" and end means "Ok, this scene has gone on long enough, time to end." Yes, most frequently 'end' will be used by command characters, or team leaders, but it can be used by players, too. Say you start up a conversation duringt shore leave with another character for a specific reason. Say that reason is "hey will you play the piano at my party?" You might choose to continue the scene after the answer to that question is figured out or you might end the scene because you have that answer. The endplate just tells the other player 'hey, let's continue" or "hey let's end, I'll see you at the party" =========================== That said check with your CO, because he or she might view things differently - your best contact for specific ship formatting questions is your mentor, you CO and your FO Good luck, happy writing and may there be many tbcs in your future!
  16. 5 points
    ((Main Shuttlebay - Deck 3 - U.S.S. Columbia)) ((Time Index: Approximately three days after the transfer orders)) Whittaker: oOSomebody pinch me.Oo ::As the small craft, a Class-8 Starfleet shuttle came to a soft and virtually imperceptible stop as it landed on the deck of the U.S.S. Columbia’s main shuttlebay, Captain Theo Whittaker was almost overcome by a strange wave of disorientation that made him think for one brief second he was dreaming and that this was not reality. The fact that Starfleet Command had seen fit to assign him to the newly refitted Columbia as it’s commanding officer (and then hand him and his crew a historic long term assignment thousands of miles from the heartlands of the Federation) had yet to sink in and had been many moments in the preceding three days where he thought he would wake up in his cabin aboard the Blackwell.:: ::Gazing out of the [...]pit’s transparent aluminum window he saw a number of officers waiting for him. He picked out all of his senior staff from the Blackwell as well as several other officers and dignitaries who had been invited to witness the re-commissioning of the historic Nebula-class starship. He had specifically requested that Starfleet Command keep the senior staff together for this assignment, knowing that each and every one of them deserved the chance to prove they were ready and able to handle whatever challenges the galaxy’s edge would throw at them.:: ::The brief disorientation passed and he turned to regard his First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Jarred Thoran, who had made the trip from Deep Space 26 to the Columbia with him. He wondered if the man was as thrown by this turn of events as he himself had been.:: Whittaker: oOThe man works his way through the chain of command, finally gets to trade his yellow collar for red and then finds himself reassigned!Oo ::at that moment he realised that it was not unlike his transfer from engineering to command, only it had happened after the reassignment and he had been the only one from the Columbia (at first) to be positioned aboard StarBase 118.:: Shall we do this, Number One? Thoran: ? ::Theo grinned as excitement took hold of him. Here he was, about to step foot back on to his first posting out of the academy-only this time he was coming back as it’s Commanding Officer. He had, in many ways, come full circle. Columbia had long held him under its spell and it was and always would be his ‘first love’. Engineers across the fleet were often derided for their attachment to starships and anthropomorphizing them, but when a ship was as unconventionally beautiful as the Columbia was- it was not hard to do do; especially after the latest round of refits that had ensured it could operate for well over half a decade without the support of a major starbase.:: Whittaker: oOShe truly was a thing of beauty.Oo ::He got to his feet and made his way to the rear of the shuttlecraft, Thoran following behind him. The side hatch opened and Theo stepped on to the deck of the Columbia. He paused to savour the moment, taking a deep breath of the crisp air and for the first time he realised that this was not a dream.:: ::It was real.:: ::He was home.:: ::His standard issue duty boots clacked against the surface of the deck plating, causing them to echo in the cavernous shuttlebay. An enlisted crewmember stepped forward and blew into a boatswain’s whistle, causing all of the assembled Starfleet officers to snap their legs together and throw their arms rigidly against their side; all of them standing to attention. Even those civilians who were watching joined them despite not being required to (though they were a good deal sloppier). After another deep breath, Theo lifted his left hand to read from the PADD that he had quite forgotten his was holding. His thumb brushed against the touch screen which activated the device and displayed the orders he was to read out.:: Whittaker: To Captain Theo Michelangelo Whittaker, Stardate 239509.10. You are hereby requested and required to take command of the U.S.S. Columbia N.C.C.-85279 as of this stardate. Signed, Admiral Vivian Hauke, Starfleet Command. ::beat:: Computer, transfer all command authorisation codes to myself. Voice authorisation: Whittaker Delta Five. Computer: Transfer complete. U.S.S. Columbia N.C.C.-85279 now under the command of Captain Theo Michelangelo Whittaker. Any: ? ::That was it. The Columbia was now his. Strangely, it felt a little anticlimactic as he had dreamed about that very moment for as long as he had been a commissioned officer in the fleet. He felt that assuming a new command required something with a little more pomp and circumstance. But it was what it was. Dismissing the interlude of disappointment from his mind, he lowered the PADD and looked at the assembled officers. A few, well chosen words felt appropriate at that moment.:: Whittaker:Well, there you have it people. Our new ship. We have an exciting opportunity ahead of us. This is a storied vessel with a lot of history behind her. Let make sure that we do her all proud and that the history books never forget our names.Any: ? Whittaker: ::with a smile, he brought the ceremony to its logical conclusion.:: Dismissed. Any: ? ::As they all began to disperse, Theo looked to his Number One and beckoned him to approach with a wave of his index and middle finger.:: ::It was time to get down to business.:: Whittaker: Jarred, I’d like you to have the senior staff report for an assignment briefing in two hours time. And… ::he paused as a small smile took hold.:: ...have us ready to get underway for the Delta Vega system in an hour. Thoran: ? ::Looking around the shuttlebay, he imagined that he could see the entire ship. It was strangely familiar but so new all at once. Gone were the old Galaxy-class aesthetics that had defined his first two tours of duty aboard her, replaced instead by deep reds and navy blues with gold trims. Every aspect of the Columbia outside of her main spaceframe had undergone extensive refits; an uprated sensor suite based on those found aboard Luna-class explorers, dozens of new science labs, a new bridge module that blended the Sovereign-class with the Galaxy, improved warp engines and even a brand new Captain’s Yacht to replace the ageing Kumari. Yes, he felt like he knew the Columbia while also acknowledging that, in many ways, she was complete stranger to him.:: ::He had the chance to get to know her all over again.:: Whittaker: oOSomebody pinch me.Oo Thoran: ? ::His Executive Officer’s voice pulled him from his reverie. Caught unawares he blinked, struggling for a moment to understand what Thoran had just said.:: Whittaker: Hm? Oh, my apologies. I was just caught up in my own thoughts. ::a warm smile, almost one of love, danced across his face.:: I got her back, Number One. :: he said as he whirled one finger around to indicate the starship as a whole.:: I can’t quite believe it. Thoran: ? Any: ? TAG/TBC! OOC: And we're off! Have a wonderful time everyone. I cannot wait to see what we come up with! -- * -- Captain Theo M. Whittaker Commanding Officer U.S.S. Columbia N.C.C.-85279 ID: 239203TW0 -- * --
  17. 4 points
    Awesome JP's indeed. :-) Well done and congrats to both Quinn and Jo.
  18. 4 points
    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
  19. 4 points
    The Executive Council of UFOP: StarBase 118 is pleased to announce that Oddas Aria and Mei’konda have completed the requirements for promotion to the rank of captain! Three cheers for our newest captains! Click here to head to the forums and add your congratulations. Mei’Konda Currently the commanding officer of the USS Montreal, Capt. Mei’konda is a member with a very long history in the group, having been part of the crew of the Starwind, an community-affiliated ship commanded by Ciara Randor. After a long leave of absence, he returned to the USS Mercury as the helmsman, followed by the Garuda, Invicta, and Veritas playing operations roles until being promoted to the position of First Officer. The writer behind Mei’konda has been highly decorated as a recipient of the Russ Bar, Scotty Cross, Geneis Award, Nebula Bar, and B-Plot Award. You can read more about him in these interviews: CAPTAIN’S CORNER: MEI’KONDA, CO OF THE USS MONTREAL FIRST OFFICERS IN FOCUS – MEI’KONDA, VERITAS LOWER DECKS: LIEUTENANT MEI’KONDA Oddas Aria Currently the commanding officer of the USS Eagle, Capt. Aria has been with our community since 2016. After graduating from the Academy, Aria was assigned to Duronis II Embassy as an engineering officer before being promoted to the position of First Officer. The writer behind Aria has been involved in the Advanced Starship Design Bureau team, and is currently a Deputy Academy Commandant – having been a very active member of the training team. Also highly decorated, he’s received the TOSMA, Russ Bar, Pathfinder Award, Rising Star Award, Boothby Award, Trailblazer Award, Phoenix Award, Neelix Award, Sheathed Sword, and Strange Medallion! You can read more about him in these interviews: TRAINED BY THE BEST: ODDAS ARIA LOWER DECKS INTERVIEW: LTJG ODDAS AIRA, DURONIS II EMBASSY The promotion to the rank of captain is a momentous occasion in our community – the result of years of writing, mentoring, and learning the ropes. This multi-step process starts with nomination from two members of the fleet at or above the rank of Commander, an initial vote from the Executive Council followed by a written exam, a practical exam, an interview with the Executive Council, and a final vote from the Executive Council. Candidates must show that they have mastery of the art of leadership, a strong knowledge of Star Trek, the ability to teach, and great simming skills. The post Congratulations Capts. Oddas Aria & Mei’konda appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  20. 4 points
    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... ))
  21. 4 points
    We’re here with another interview with a newer member of our community. The title of this column is “Lower Decks,” hearkening back to the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode titled “Lower Decks,” in which junior officers aboard the Enterprise-D speculate on the reasons for recent unusual actions taken by the command crew near the Cardassian border. This month’s interview is with the writer behind Ensign Beelam Grog playing a Trill female medical officer assigned to the USS Montreal. GALVEN: I appreciate you for accepting my Interview! Could you tell us a little bit about yourself for our readers out there? GROG: Sure thing. I live and go to college in Colorado where I am studying to become a special education teacher. In my free time I do role play for systems like Star Trek adventures, write and watch British history programs. How did you find out about Starbase 118 and what made you ultimately choose our community and stay with us? I find it to be a funny story. I found your group when I was searching google for Information about Starfleet academy. I found the wiki and upon seeing that this group was still active decided to join. I mostly stayed because I liked the people and how they valued the players as real people first. There’s a lot of species to choose from. Why did you choose Trill? I wanted to play a medical officer so the obvious choice was to use a character I had somewhat already created as part of my Deep Space Nine original character Abby’s bridge crew. She was already a Trill, had a name and set up to be a medical officer so being able to create her personality through this role play was a no brainer. Your character plays a nurse. Are you in the medical field and is there a TV show, movie, or book you take inspiration from when writing your character? I am not in the medical field but my future job as a special education teacher deals with kids who have disabilities; I guess you could say it does indirectly. It’s from these types disabilities that I might see in kids whom I will work with that I take inspiration, along with disabled youtubers that I watch. Though I would have to say that my favorite source of information is the BBC historical medical drama Call The Midwife. Such a great show, makes me cry every time I watch a new episode. Now Beelam is a interesting character. She has a form of autism that also goes into effect with her hosts. How are you going to expand that for character development? Thank you. I’m not sure, I never even planned for her to have Autism but being me it just had to happen. You see every character I create, and I have created a lot, have to have a disability, not sure why. If I had to give some insight I would say that I’m going to try and reveal more about her childhood and past hosts, as well as how these affect her and her Autism. I’m going to bring as much awareness to Autism as possible while writing this character. 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? Aspirations, hmm. Not sure, it might be nice for Beelam to make a head nurse position someday but for now I’m mostly going where the wind takes me. As for OOC activities I would love to join the FNS. Outside of SB118 I would love to get more into painting mini figures for role play. Thanks for your time, Ensign Beelam Grog! You can read more about Ensign Beelam Grog on the wiki. The post Lower Decks Interview: Ensign Beelam Grog, USS Montreal appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  22. 4 points
    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
  23. 4 points
    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.
  24. 4 points
    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
  25. 4 points
    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!
  26. 4 points
    Thank you, @Sotak. It was fun to write with @Maddi Hyden. I'm sure we'll write more in the future.
  27. 4 points
    Pholin is always a pleasure to chat with on the discord channel too
  28. 4 points
    I can say that the writer behind @Pholin Duyzer is a pleasure to sim with. They puts equal parts heart and brains into their stories and I expect even greater things from them in the future. In fact, Ensign Duyzer is already a Lieutenant JG now. Working their way up the chain of command ...
  29. 4 points
    Stennin, 185 cm. 45 years. Full Vulcan Stennin looked out the window when Starbase 118 came into view. Although he had seen multiple starbases before in his life, this one seemed to be teeming with life and commerce. Stennin looked at his application form one more time. He had applied to the Academy for a position in the Science division. He had graduated of the Vulcan Science Academy only six months prior, however felt a position in Starfleet was more promising. His family had a long history in Starfleet. Stennin's father, Otokha, had been a Astronomy Science officer for most of his life. Otokha's mother, Gormun, was a Medical officer, serving on three separate Starfleet vessels. Stennin's own mother, Natella, had devoted her life to scholarship, and to studying the workings of Surak and his followers, becoming a logician. Stennin, on the other hand, had developed a sense for chemistry, and microbiology especially. Stennin was roused from his train of thought by the shuttle's comms. " This is con. We will arrive in Starbase 118 shortly. All cadets are ordered to gather their belongings before leaving. Starfleet is not responsible for any loss of personal stuff. Have a good day!" Stennin stood up from his seat, walking to his locker. He poured over a picture of him, his parents, and his younger sister Aldi. He was once again interrupted by a younger looking human, who snarled at him jokingly: " 'Sup pointy-ears? Nervous?" Stennin looked up at him, and said: " Vulcans do not get nervous. It is illogical to assume that what is unknown, leads to a response of fear." the young human raised his hands in apology. " Sorry, then. Meant nothing by it." Stennin closed his locker, packing all his stuff in a small backpack, and walked to the exit corridor. The shuttle landed in the shuttle bay with a soft thump, and then, the pilot walked to the door. " All right cadets. This is it. Those for the academy, register at the nearest arrivals counter. They will fill you in shortly. Good luck." With that, the pilot went back. Stennin walked out the ramp, letting in the fuel-filled air of the shuttle bay. He walked to customs, where he was stopped by a young Tellarite woman. " Greetings, cadet. All new cadet arrivals need to report in before proceeding to training." Stennin took out his passport, and gave it to the Tellarite. " Your credentials are in order, Cadet Stennin. Proceed to training centre immediately via turbolift." the woman said. Stennin took his passport, and shortened the straps on his backpack, and then walked to the turbolift. He ascended the starbase's levels, until finally arriving at the Academy. There, he walked to another counter, were he was stopped by a female Vulcan recruiter. Seeing a congener, he rose up his hand in a traditional Vulcan greeting, and said: " Live Long and Prosper." the Vulcan woman raised her palm as well, and replied: " Peace and long live." the woman looked down at her desk, and pushed several buttons, before replying. " Cadet Stennin. You have applied for a position in the Science division. Specialisation: Chemistry and Microbiology. You are cleared to proceed to your dormitory, if that is agreeable to you." Stennin nodded, and said: " It is agreeable." Raising his palm once more, he concluded: " Live Long and Prosper." The woman replied likewise.
  30. 4 points
    Woohoo! Thank you for this delightful video
  31. 4 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
  32. 4 points
    (OOC: I have simmed in this region, on that station, with these characters. For me, the prologue to the Veritas's latest mission was incredibly powerful) Part 1 Previously: https://fednewsservice.com/2018/10/18/federation-council-announces-sanctions-romulan-star-empire-failed-duronis-invasion/ https://fednewsservice.com/2018/10/24/romulan-star-empire-withdraws-support-astrofori-one-response-federation-sanctions/ ((Astrofori One, Menthar Corridor)) ::It was an otherwise normal day on Astrofori One for the command deck. Minor docking disputes were at a minimum, no diplomatic incidents of note, and all of Starfleet contingent seemed to be in perfect condition - minus the flu outbreak medical staff were currently dealing with.:: :: In the office of Cassandra Egan Manno, mission commander for Starfleet’s presence on Astrofori One, things were much as they usually were--which was to say, somewhere between “busy” and “crazy.” This morning, “busy” seemed to be the order of the day, which was just fine with Cassie. The past few days had seen a contingent of screeching Peppalexan monks visit the station, a trade conference that ate up most of the Comm Quad, and the Klingon holiday of Qo'bo'val--which, while interesting, had taken over six different entertainment establishments with the ritual reenactment of Kahless’s fight against Molor. :: So, all things considered, a regular “busy” was just fine with Cassie. :: Her aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Commander Gnisky, sauntered in a few minutes after Cassie arrived on duty, which was always a good sign. Gnisky wasn’t in any hurry, and that boded well for the rest of Cassie’s day. :: Egan Manno: Today’s the day we’re welcoming the Cardassian poet? Gnisky: And attending her reading tonight, Captain. Plus, there’s the committee. :: Cassie did her best not to groan. The committee, which was overseeing the gathering of several dozen delegates to discuss the impact of Federation terraforming practices on type-O worlds, was the one thing she continued for forget about. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested, just that others took care of all the details, and what she couldn’t do herself, she forgot at once. :: Egan Manno: Is there a meeting today? Gnisky: Tomorrow. But the organizing committee would like you sign off on forty-three of the proposals before then. Egan Manno: Tag them for me, alright? I’ll take a look this afternoon. :: Gnisky gave a nod and a knowing smile and bowed herself back out of Cassie’s office, while Cassie turned to her massive pile of unanswered comms and notes. Time, once again, to bail that sinking ship. :: ((Bridge, USS Minerva, on patrol along Astrofori One defense perimeter)) ::Captain Kaneshiro Tatsuya of the Minerva sat watch in his chair, not that there was much to watch with the screen showing only endless black space. The mood on the bridge of the Veritas class ship was quiet with only the beeps and hums of their consoles punctuating the silence as the crew diligently attended to their stations, that is, until the captain spoke up.:: Kaneshiro: Next time we’re required to stop at the Anchorage, remind me to schedule them another health and safety check. ::Lt. Commander Chaulok, the Minerva’s Vulcan first officer, looked over from her station behind the captain’s chair with a raised eyebrow. Although she had served with Kaneshiro for the last three years, she still found the human eccentricities such as “small talk” difficult to decipher at times.:: Chaulok: I will program the computer’s calendar to trigger a reminder when the conditions are met, Captain. Kaneshiro: Honestly, I’ve no idea how they get away with it. You *had* to have been even a little uncomfortable. ::Chaulok leaned back, staring at the viewscreen with a perplexed expression as she cleared her throat.:: Chaulok: I did not find the station’s particular environmental conditions that extraordinary in its divergence from order and cleanliness as seen with most non-Vulcanoids, sir. ::The captain gave her an incredulous look.:: Kaneshiro: Are you calling this ship ‘dirty’, Commander? ::A few heads turned on the bridge to witness the exchange, another classic moment between Shiro and his XO.:: ::Lieutenant JG Michael Goodwell glanced up momentarily, but unlike some of the others, he scarcely reacted to the comment. He was too focused on the readouts in front of him. Some might even say he was flying partly on autopilot given that the last couple of days had been monotonous and fairly routine. His focus was on performing his duties and he wasn’t feeling particularly social.:: Goodwell: ::shakes his head and offers sarcastically:: I hope not, sir. I heard the maintenance staff have been working overtime to keep this ship spotless. ::The Vulcan remained unfazed, however.:: Chaulok: Not at all, captain. As the ship’s executive officer, it is after all my duty to ensure the Minerva exhibits the high standards you and I have set for the crew. Thus, I can confidently say this ship is exceptional in every sense of the word. ::Shiro had to force his mouth closed, still a little shocked and humoured by his XO.:: Kaneshiro: I’ll note that in my log. ::A few chuckles were murmured but before Chaulok could continue the banter, a sensor alert began sounding from the operations console.:: Ops: Captain, I’m picking up three. . . ::The officer stammered suddenly, verifying she was reading her console correctly.:: Ops: …*hundred* vessels on an intercept course. ::The number was quite unexpected, but while the others on the bridge may have suddenly been shaken, Chaulok calmy verified the readings on her own console.:: Chaulok: Confirmed captain. It appears to be a fleet of 322 small-sized vessels to be exact. Based on their trajectory, I believe they are actually headed towards Astrofori One. Kaneshiro: Source? Chaulok: The signatures read as Tholian. ::The captain’s breath hitched in his throat as he considered his next action. They weren’t the only ship out here, but *three hundred Tholians ships*? There was simply no way *two* of them could take that on. ::A Tholian fleet in the Menthar Corridor . . . but why? What purpose could it possibly have- ::Astrofori One.:: Kaneshiro: Red alert. Contact the Stalwart, and tell them to prepare for an attack by the Tholian fleet. Helm, set a course to rendezvous with them at maximum warp. Chaulok: Aye, sir. ::As their helm officer acknowledged the order, the Vulcan quickly called up the Minerva’s Defiant class counterpart which was patrolling nearby. Most of Task Force 105 had been diverted to deal with a sudden crisis on the Community’s home world in the Zeta Equulei system. The collective consciousness species had begun overtures towards membership with the Federation, and Starfleet in turn was eager to show its willingness to render aid.:: Goodwell: ::brow furrows:: Sir, the Tholian fleet is hailing us. ::The captain stood from his chair, breathing a little heavy.:: Kaneshiro: Onscreen. ::The image of hundreds of small triangular vessels racing towards them was replaced by the bright orange face of the crystalline species.:: Tholian Admiral: =/\= Federation vessel, this will be your only advisement. Your presence in this sector is a violation of Tholian sovereignty. Furthermore, the Assembly will no longer tolerate the threat to our security from the illegal outpost that you have installed. You have precisely one hour to evacuate from the outpost before its neutralization. =/\= ::The comlink was closed before Kaneshiro could even get a word in. He huffed.:: Kaneshiro: Sounds like they’re not in a mood to negotiate. ::Michael shuddered as he recalled his last encounter with the Tholians about the Victory. They’d faced down a couple of ships that were intent on a craft they discovered floating dead in space, and they’d soon found themselves snared in Tholian webs. These guys didn’t fool around, and they never meant anything less than business. With all of the casualties during that particular encounter, he was prepared for that possibility with this one.:: Goodwell: These guys don’t play around, Captain. Last time I met a group of them, they nearly destroyed the Victory with those Tholian webs. ::Shiro took a seat back in his command chair.:: Kaneshiro: Hail Astrofori One. TBC… The Crew and Residents of Astrofori One The Crew of the USS Minerva As written by Tony aka FltCapt. Cassandra Egan Manno/Cmdr. Nic del Vedova (V238208LV0) Rich aka Capt. Roshanara Rahman (I238705TZ0) Deliera aka LtCmdr. Sky Blake (C238803SB0) Gina aka LtCmdr. Lael Rosek (I238110RH0) Cameron aka Cmdr. Evan Delano (T239007ED0)
  33. 4 points
    Part 3 ((Comm Quad, Astrofori One)) :: The biggest problem with evacuating the station in such a short amount of time was the fact that the numerous transports already docked at the station were already overfilled with passengers who had already paid for the privilege. The captains of these vessels didn’t appreciate having their ship’s effectively commandeered, or being asked to stuff every available bit of space in their vessels with civilians who weren’t likely to be paying much of anything. :: :: Despite the complaints, the work was nevertheless being done, and civilians and Starfleeters alike were all working together to empty the station before the Tholian armada arrived.:: :: When Cassie arrived on the Comm Quad, it was emptier than she had ever seen it. Most days, she wished that the Quad was quieter. Today, she would have given whatever was in her power to give in order to see it fill again with people. :: She was accompanied by Gnisky, her aide-de-camp, and Msafiri Bakari, the region’s--and her--capable and frightening competent adjutant. However, none of those roles would last very long, now with things heading the way they were. :: Egan Manno: Gnisky, get me a stationwide channel. I want everyone who’s left aboard to hear me. Gnisky: Right away, Captain. :: Cassie heard, thanks to the cavernous silence of the emptied station, her own voice echoing back. Hopefully, if she could hear herself, then anyone else left aboard could hear her, too. :: Egan Manno: =/\= I am Fleet Captain Egan Manno, commander of the Federation Starfleet’s presence on Astrofori One. If you are still aboard the station, leave immediately. This is your final warning. =/\= :: Now, she thought, to see if anyone was going to come running. :: Egan Manno: Astrofori One was meant to do exactly what we’ve failed to achieve here. ::beat:: In a way, I’m pleased that our failure is so complete. At least the derelict station won’t ever remind us of what might have been. ::Msafiri wasn’t sure exactly what words to say in response, but an alert on his PADD made him breathe a sigh. They’d caught a break, although it had come at great cost.:: Bakari: Captain, the latest sensor reports show the Tholian fleet’s advance has stalled. It looks like the Minerva and Stalwart were able to take out the fleet’s command ship. :: She snapped from her reflective funk immediately, back to the business of saving what people she could. :: Egan Manno: But only the command ship? What about the rest of 105? Bakari: I’m afraid both ships were lost in the battle. They’ve bought us some time, though, while the Tholians regroup. The rest of the task force is still on their way, about forty minutes out. Egan Manno: One Tholian command ship--for two of our own. :: She closed her eyes for a moment, rather than ask the next question that occurred to her: How many people? How many lives had just been lost? But that wasn’t the kind of question a captain was allowed to ask, not before the end of the fight. :: Egan Manno: I want us to be the last to go. No: I want to be the last to go. You two will go before me. :: If at all possible, that was. Gnisky inclined her head, gently agreeing. She knew better than to argue something that really mattered. But she expected Bakari to say something--right before, that was, one of the final evacuees interrupted them. :: :: It was Andrew Davenport. The reporter had a wide-eyed expression that often came with adrenaline. :: Davenport: Captain! Egan Manno: Mr. Davenport? What are you still doing aboard? :: He was dedicated, she’d give him that. But, perhaps, dedicated such that his priorities weren’t quite where they ought to be. :: :: Chasing after him was Lieutenant Ivanova. In the midst of the chaos, she didn’t have time for his antics. :: Ivanova: I’m sorry, captain. :: The tall woman gave the man a scornful look. :: Ivanova: Mr. Davenport is being uncooperative with the evacuation. Egan Manno: ::to Davenport:: I take it that we have you to thank for the story that ran, presumably based on what you heard me say to Commander Bakari? Davenport: Yes. I… wait, you’re not upset? :: She shook her head. :: Egan Manno: I’m not here to argue or to fight with you, Mr. Davenport. That’s for after, assuming there is a substantial “after.” You need to leave, now. Davenport: I’m not about to argue that. :: She glanced at Gnisky and Bakari. Surely not? Surely the resourceful journalist that was Davenport hadn’t allowed himself to be cornered at the last moment, and he had some other card to play, some other trick up his sleeve? :: Egan Manno: You don’t have a way off the station? ::beat:: Except, perhaps, after being arrested by Lieutenant Ivanova? :: Ordinarily, Lidia would have agreed, but this wasn’t an ordinary day. :: Ivanova: Captain, our security teams are being stretched to their limits trying to keep order during the evacuation. There simply aren’t enough ships for the number of people we need to get off the station, and once the crowds find out, I’m worried we’re going to have a mass hysteria on our hands. Egan Manno: That’s a fair assessment, Lieutenant. Very well. Leave Mr. Davenport with us. You’ll leave with us, Mr. Davenport. And you can tell your stories after you go. ::beat:: In fact, I think you ought to. The last of us on Astrofori One. :: The reporter looked around the deserted area, once so full of promise and diverse life. :: Davenport: I think that’s a good idea. :: He looked back to the fleet captain, who seemed focused on the task at hand, though he thought he could see some emotion bleeding through the veil of professionalism that defined so much of what he knew about Cassandra Egan Manno. :: Davenport: What do we do now? Egan Manno: Now? ::beat:: We wait. ((Later)) Ivanova: Keep moving, everyone! Use all lanes! ::Standing by her side was her ten-year-old son Misha, gripping onto her hand. She’d make sure he was personally aboard with her safe.:: Misha: Mama, will be there be room for us? ::She squeezed his hand as she continued to wave people into the transport with her other hand.:: Ivanova: We’ll be okay, Misha. ::The quantum slipstream drive had truly been their godsend. While the rest of Task Force 105 was still too far away, Admiral Washington had managed to convince a brave captain of a commercial slipstream starliner to divert to the station. Still, they didn’t have time to count their blessings as the unarmed passenger vessel would be shredded in minutes if it was still around when the Tholians arrived.:: ((Station Promenade, Astrofori One)) ::Msafiri watched the giant slipstream liner move away from the station gracefully before activating its drive, disappearing in a flash. He turned to see Davenport had been taking a holorecording.:: Bakari: You better turn around and take some shots of the station. Probably the last images anyone will see. ::Assuming they got out of here alive.:: Davenport: Right. :: Davenport had never been much of a photographer, but he’d been using a body camera to record as much as he could since the announcement came through. It was one of the few effects he’d bothered to recover from his room. Still, he turned and used the imager on his recording device to take several high resolution holoscans. Bakari was right. People deserved to see this. :: Bakari: When you write of today, just promise me one thing. Don’t focus on the destruction and fear. There will be plenty of that already. Tell the story of those that tried to help. People need to know there were helpers to the end. Davenport: That’s an admirable sentiment considering everything that’s happening here, Commander. I can’t promise anything, but I will do what I can to avoid sensationalizing this. All I ever really wanted to do was show people the truth. :: The Starfleet commander nodded and then gave a gentle pat on the man’s back. :: Bakari: Come on, let’s get to the runabout and give Gnisky a hand prepping for launch. Davenport: I gained some recent experience with Starfleet runabouts. I’ll help out however I can. ((Command Deck, Astrofori One)) :: To the best of their abilities, those were the last. There was no one left to escort aboard an escape vessel, no transports left to make, no ships or shuttles left in any of A1’s bays. Cassie was, true to her word, the last to leave--after Gnisky, Bakari, and Davenport had proceeded her. Now, the station was home, for a long moment, to a population of exactly one. :: And even then, it wouldn’t be for long. She wouldn’t endanger anyone’s lives with one long, last look, especially as the Tholians were there. No, it was time to beam away. :: Still, there was something sublimely beautiful about the station’s last moments. There were no crass torpedoes or disruptors to finish the station off. Rather, the Tholian fleet, several hundred ships strong, was weaving a web around the station, surrounding it as if with a massive shield that would keep it safe. Ironic, she thought. Ironic that it should be there to do the exact opposite. :: She tapped her comm badge. This, too, was a moment that lasted far longer than she’d intended, as several epochs passed before her hand reached her badge. Even when she heard the signal chirp back at her, she couldn’t remember for a second, and then another, and then another, why she wanted to leave. Couldn’t she stay, and watch the weaving? Couldn’t she stay, just one moment longer? :: Egan Manno: =/\= This is Egan Manno. I’m the last. Ready for transport. =/\= :: In that final transporter stream, Astrofori One disappeared around her for the last time. :: :: And so for one brief moment in time, not a soul remained on Astrofori One, the station now a monument to a lost dream as the web began to close. :: CUE OPENING CREDITS: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1br0mAsJMB453CAZ_msl-c5iBknGRqcqO/view --- The Crew and Residents of Astrofori One The Crew of the USS Minerva As written by Tony aka FltCapt. Cassandra Egan Manno/Cmdr. Nic del Vedova (V238208LV0) Rich aka Capt. Roshanara Rahman (I238705TZ0) Deliera aka LtCmdr. Sky Blake (C238803SB0) Gina aka LtCmdr. Lael Rosek (I238110RH0) Cameron aka Cmdr. Evan Delano (T239007ED0)
  34. 4 points
    Part 2 (( Corridor Near Turbolift Station, Astrofori One)) :: Andrew Davenport, now a fully fledged FNS reporter, hadn’t set foot on Astrofori 1 for almost three years, though he had once lived here. Back then, he’d been chasing a conspiracy involving a member of the Federation Council.That rabbit hole ultimately led to being kidnapped, interrogated, and eventually marooned on an isolated Class-M world by the Maquis Reborn. He’d managed to escape, but only by sheer luck. :: :: As the situation on A1 grew more complex and the FNS wanted more reporters on the station, Andrew’s editor (and new boss) had left the final decision to return to the station up to him. The reporter didn’t entirely know why he’d agreed, but his professional instincts told him it had been the right thing to do. Now, just three days after stepping off the slipstream transport into the familiar bustle of the station, Andrew was already regretting his decision. There was something very wrong on Astrofori 1, and everyone seemed to know it - if not the specific details. :: Davenport: Commander! Commander Bakari! :: Andrew recognized Msafiri Bakari from their briefly shared time together on the USS Garuda almost four years earlier. Much as he had been then, Bakari was Egan Manno’s right hand in managing the station, and Starfleet’s presence in the Menthar Corridor. If anyone but Egan Manno was likely to know what was going on, he was it. :: Bakari: I’m sorry, Mr. Davenport, but there’s an urgent matter I need to attend to. ::The 35-year-old adjutant to the Region & Starfleet Mission Commander for the Menthar Corridor & Astrofori One was walking with Lieutenant Lidia Ivanova, the station’s security chief, who looked annoyed at Davenport’s interruption.:: Davenport: I can walk with you. I just need a few minutes. Bakari: Talk quickly. :: Andrew took the not-quite-a-rejection as consent to continue. :: Davenport: Is there any truth to the rumors that the Kubarey are also withdrawing from the station? Bakari: Not unless you know something I don’t... Davenport: Most of the Kubarey population has already left the station station. After the Breen withdrawal, people are talking. Bakari: I’m sure they are. All I can tell you is that we are current reassessing our operational plans with our Kubarey partners. Davenport: Will there be an official statement from the Fleet Captain? Bakari: When she crafts one, I’ll be sure you’re one of the first to get it. :: Bakari was close to the restricted turbolift that would take him to the command deck. There was maybe time for one more question. :: Davenport: If the Kubarey do withdraw, does Starfleet have the resources to maintain Astrofori 1 on its own? ::Msafiri grimaced instinctually at the question. He couldn’t hide what he was feeling. The truth was no, they wouldn’t. It was already going to be difficult with both the Romulans and Breen gone, but if Starfleet were left alone, in all likelihood, the project would be abandoned.:: Bakari: No comment. Will that be all, Mr. Davenport? :: Before Andrew could respond, a sudden repeating alert began ringing throughout the station. The entire corridor, previously buzzing with low levels of conversation, came to a stop. Many looked puzzled - an emotion Andrew shared. He didn’t recognize the specific alert, but Astrofori One had always done things a bit differently compared to other Starbases he’d been on. :: Davenport: What is that? ::Msafiri looked up and around the station. He recognized the alert the last time he’d heard it on Deep Space 17. Before the Vaadwaur attacked.:: Bakari: Nothing good. ::He looked over at Ivanova.:: Lieutenant, I think you’d better head down to the Comm Quad. There’s going to be a lot of scared folks down there. Ivanova: Aye, sir. I’ll get my people ready. ::As she went off to get her security teams ready for crowd control, Msafiri’s combadge chirped.:: Egan Manno: =/\= Commander Bakari, Egan Manno. I’ve just received word that the Minerva has engaged the Tholian taskforce. You’re needed at the command post immediately. Bakari: =/\= Understood, captain. I’m already on my way! =/\= :: Bakari regarded Andrew, who kept a neutral expression - he hadn’t been meant to hear that message, but the ‘damage’ had been done. They exchanged a brief look - Bakari, perhaps considering whether he could do something to stop Davenport from reporting on these developments, and ultimately deciding it wasn’t worth the time. Bakari moved quickly to the priority turbolift that was waiting for him while Davenport sprinted to the nearest public terminal that could provide access the station’s subspace communication system. :: :: The report he prepared for FNS was one of the shortest he’d ever written, but it contained the most important pieces of the story. “BREAKING: USS Minerva Leads Federation Forces Against Hostile Tholian Fleet on Approach to Astrofori 1,” the headline read in bold letters. The rest of the article provided the few details he had, and a notation asking his editor to add the relevant background on the already reported recent developments for the station. :: :: His finger hovered over the submit button on his interface when another alert began to sound through the station. A chill ran down Andrew’s spine as he saw the reaction of the few Federation citizens nearby. :: Egan Manno: =/\= Attention, all Astrofori One residents and personnel. This is Fleet Captain Egan Manno of the Starfleet mission. For your own safety, and on behalf of all governments and states represented on Astrofori One, I am ordering an immediate evacuation. This is not a drill. Proceed to the airlocks, transporter rooms, and bays as quickly as you can. I repeat, this is not a drill. =/\= ((Bridge, USS Minerva)) ::The bridge rocked with another hit, and Chaulok held onto her console to keep from falling over.:: Chaulok: ::raising her voice over the sounds of weapons fire:: Captain, we are unlikely to prevail in this engagement. Kaneshiro: Yes, *thank* you for that kind reminder, Commander! Goodwell: ::shakes his head:: They’re hitting us hard. Damage reports incoming from all over the ship. ::The ship rocked again, consoles sparking. When Kaneshiro whipped himself back up to a proper seated position, he yelled out a command.:: Kaneshiro: Target the engines of the lead vessels - if we cut their legs off, maybe it’ll give us some breathing room. ::It was kind thinking, given that they were in battle with a number of Tholian vessels (Shiro wasn’t keen on counting them), but it was the best idea he had. But the reality was that Chaulok was right - they were fighting a losing battle.:: ::Chaulok’s voice called out again, this time announcing a call from the Stalwart. She put it on audio, Captain Tob Ch'rhiakrar’s voice filling the air. Judging from the background commotion, the Andorian’s ship wasn’t faring much better.:: Ch'rhiakrar: =/\= Minerva, they’re generating another web. We need to coordinate our counterattack. =/\= Kaneshiro: =/\= Agreed. =/\= ::Michael scrambled to think, trying to recall how the Victory had eventually won out against the webs.:: Goodwell: Graviton waves. Kaneshiro: If you’ve got a plan, Goodwell, speak *up*! ::On the viewscreen, one of the Tholian vessels could be seen strafing past the Minerva’s saucer section, nearly on a collision course. The Tholians were getting bolder in their maneuvers, almost as if they were taunting them.:: Goodwell: Tholians are essentially hot crystals. They don’t respond well to high frequency soundwaves. The Victory used graviton waves to disable the Tholian ships it encountered. It gave them just enough time to get away. It might give us an edge to warn Astrofori One. Kaneshiro: It’s worth a shot. Coordinate with the Stalwart. Goodwell: ::nods:: Aye, sir. ::Michael pulled up the screens on his tactical console toggling between the readings and text communications with the Stalwart tactical officer. They needed the element of surprise and couldn’t risk the Tholians picking up their comm traffic. The text communications were encrypted and even the best attempts to crack them would take a half hour, probably more. They didn’t need nearly that long.:: Kaneshiro: Status on the web? Goodwell: ::grimaces and shakes his head:: I’m picking up an energy build-up in their weapons systems. I’m working as fast as I can, but it’s going to be a close one, sir. ::The Captain paused for just a second.:: Kaneshiro: Helm, get us between the Stalwart and the rest of the building web. Helm: Aye, captain. Chaulok: I am rerouting auxiliary power to thrusters. Kaneshiro: Lieutenant, how’s it coming? Goodwell: ::fingers flying over the console:: Another minute or two at most. Making some last minute adjustments to account for the Tholian vessel’s current trajectory. It’ll take time for our systems to recover once we emit the wave. We may only get one shot at this. Kaneshiro: One shot’ll do. ::brown eyes flickered over to the tactical console:: Just don’t miss. Goodwell: Given that it’s my rear end along with the rest of the crew’s in the sling if I do, I don’t intend to. ::enters a few final commands and looks up:: There. Ready on your order, sir. Kaneshiro: Full power to starboard shields - Lieutenant, you’ve got my permission to take out that damn web! ::Gods help them if this went wrong.:: Goodwell: Yes, sir! ::Without another moment’s hesitation, Michael’s finger hit the final key on his console, glancing up to watch the show on the viewscreen. His heart thudded against his ribcage as he waited, the whole thing seeming to happen in slow motion. Finally, a flare from the Tholian ship’s aft section told them they’d hit their target.:: Goodwell: ::studies the readouts and grins:: That was unexpected. We’ve managed to disrupt their weapons systems. Kaneshiro: I’ll take it. Job’s not done yet. ::A crackled hail from Stalwart seemed to punctuate the captain’s statement.:: Ch'rhiakrar: =/\= Minerva, we’ve taken heavy casua… ::static:: ...bandon ship… ::static:: =/\= ::There was another burst of static before the comline suddenly cut out. Onscreen, a brilliant flash of yellow light filled the bridge, and the crew looked up to see a collapsing web slice through the Defiant class ship’s hull like a piano wire.:: ::For Kaneshiro, it was a prediction of their own future. They’d just lost a fine ship and crew to the brutality of a Tholian attack - their sole purpose being to distract the Tholian fleet before it reached innocent civilians that remained on Astrofori One. He swallowed, his chin raised for just a moment before looking away from the viewscreen. ::They had to play their cards right from here on out. If they did that, they might be lucky. His crew might live to see another day. But from the second the Stalwart cracked under the pressure, he knew that this ship would not last the battle, no matter what creative solutions they intended to employ.:: Kaneshiro: Did they launch escape pods? ::A key reminder that they were still in the midst of a battle shot through the deck plating, the ship stuttering under the fire of Tholian weapons again.:: Goodwell: ::studies the scans and sombers:: I’m reading some of them, sir. But not the full count. ::gaze drops his console and he shakes his head:: And we have another three minutes before systems are ready for another graviton wave. Kaneshiro: Keep the Tholians attention on us - I don’t want a single vessel heading in the direction of those escape pods. Evasive maneuvers, Helm. Let’s not get caught in any more webs. ::As if the Tholians had heard him, the ship came to a halt in space, the Helm frozen.:: Helm: We’ve been caught in a tractor beam! Goodwell: ::grimaces:: I’m trying to disable it, sir, but the targeting sensors took a hit with that last round. I’m flying blind here. Kaneshiro: Status of Astrofori One, Mister Chaulok? ::The Vulcan did her best to call up the last stream of information from Commander Bakari back at the station. Even if the report was out of date, it didn’t paint a promising picture.:: Chaulok: The station has begun launching all available craft. The latest reports, however, state that more than half of the station’s population remain aboard. The deadline the Tholians have prescribed is simply unrealistic, captain. Goodwell: ::mutters:: I’m beginning to think that was the point. ::Shiro had a decision to make. The lives of his crew or those remaining aboard Astrofori One.:: Kaneshiro: How long would it take for the fleet to arrive at the station? Chaulok: I would estimate at least 37 minutes. Given that we have only managed to destroy or disable 52 enemy vessels, we are unlikely to prevent the Tholians from reaching the station first. Kaneshiro: If we could take out the Tholian command ship? ::Obviously it wouldn’t diminish the time by *that* much, but the station would have one less thing to worry about, being blown to bits by a nightmare cruiser that, for the moment, had been content on just laying back on the outskirts of the skirmish, housing the fighters that had caused them the most trouble.:: Chaulok: The Tholians are a hive society, captain, based on a strict caste system. It is likely the loss of significant leadership in their ranks would require them to wait for additional members of that caste to retake command. ::That’s all he needed to hear to confirm his plan.:: ::Shiro jammed his finger into the com panel.:: Kaneshiro: All hands, this is the captain. Abandon ship. I repeat, abandon ship! Goodwell: ::studies his console:: Assigned officers are reporting en route to the escape pods, sir, to help with evacuation. ::For not the first time in her tour of duty, the Vulcan XO was bewildered by her captain’s actions.:: Chaulok: Captain, what are you doing? Kaneshiro: You’re right, Chaulok - the odds of us winning this battle are next to none, and I’d personally bet on none. Our best option is to get out of the way, but I’m not about to lay down with my belly up. ::To the helm.:: Lay in a collision course with the Tholian command ship. ::Michael looked up from his console, his eyes wide. A collision course. Hell. Despite the anxiety coursing through his veins, he straightened, determined if he was going to go down, it would be in a blaze of glory. He wasn’t one to back down, even if it was a losing fight.:: ::Chaulok moved around from her station, moving towards the helm.:: Chaulok: Belay that, ensign. Get to the escape pods. ::As the ensign looked back at the captain, unsure of what to do, the first officer turned herself to look back at Kaneshiro.:: Chaulok: You need only a minimal bridge crew to execute this plan, captain. I will take the helm. Kaneshiro: Is autopilot offline? Chaulok: Autopilot will be unable to track the far more maneuverable Tholian command ship to ensure a direct hit. I estimate however a 14% increase in success if the helm remains occupied. Goodwell: ::nods:: I can confirm that, sir. With our systems as taxed as they are, it might be even slimmer odds on autopilot. ::The captain glanced between his executive and tactical officers.:: Kaneshiro: Fine. But just for the record, I’ve told you both that I intend to blow up this ship, and you’ve decided to *remain onboard*? Goodwell: It’s your call, sir. I’ll be wherever you need me. I’m not afraid of dying if that’s what it takes to protect those folks at Astrofori One. ::It was a blatant lie. He had his wife and his unborn child in the forefront of his mind, but if this saved them then he was happy to do it.:: Kaneshiro: Not today, Mister Goodwell. You’re coordinating the evacuation. It’s your job to keep those escape pods out of the Tholian view. ::He motioned to the turbolift.:: Get to your escape pod. That’s an order. ::Michael was stunned, albeit grateful for the Captain’s order. There was still every chance he wouldn’t make it off the ship and just as slim of odds that his escape pod if he got there wouldn’t be picked off by the Tholians. His gaze lingered on the two officers who would remain, a feeling of pride swelling in his chest at having had the privilege of serving with two such fine officers.:: Goodwell: ::nods:: Aye, sir. ::Before Goodwell left the bridge, Chaulok called out to him.:: Chaulok: Lieutenant Goodwell, it was a distinct honor to serve together with you. May you live long and prosper. ::She bowed her head slightly as she looked over her shoulder and held up her hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting.:: Goodwell: ::smiles:: It was a privilege serving with you, too, ma’am. ::glances at Kaneshiro:: Both of you. ::Gathering his nerve, he moved toward the turbolift, praying that he managed to get out of this alive. He wanted to see his daughter grow up.:: ::Once it was just Captain Kaneshiro and Chaulok alone on the bridge, it was eerily quiet once again, the silence punctuated now only by the sounds of weapon impacts and alarms.:: Kaneshiro: Computer, activate self-destruct sequence. Authorization Kaneshiro-black-five. Computer: Self-destruct sequence initiated. Input secondary authorization to confirm. Chaulok: Computer, confirm self-destruct, authorization Chaulok-sigma-sigma-pi. Computer: Self-destruct armed and confirmed. Awaiting final command. Kaneshiro: Initiate immediate self-destruct upon forward collision with Tholian vessels. ::The Vulcan checked her console’s sensor readings.:: Chaulok: All escape pods have been launched, captain. ::He gave a relieved huff, standing from his chair, acknowledging his very empty bridge. Not a bad ship for a first command. He’d had his reservations about the Veritas class vessel, about its position in the Menthar Corridor, but they seemed like such small things in comparison to what it’d just pulled off. Given the circumstances, it and his crew performed admirably against an overwhelming force. Though there was no one left on the bridge, aside from his steadfast XO, he held a sense of pride.:: ::They’d done what they could for Astrofori One. This was the last card they had. This ship had gotten as many people out alive as it could.:: ::Tugging down his uniform jacket, Shiro approached Chaulok and the helm.:: Kaneshiro: So, Commander, ::he gave her a cheeky smile.:: Still think my ship is dirty? ::She didn’t look over at him, busy inputting new coordinates to reach their target, but she did return one final raised eyebrow.:: ::After the last of the escape pods had cleared the hull of the Veritas class ship, the Minerva veered off into a steep ascent, tracking the Tholian command ship.:: ::Michael sat in the little pod, anxiously waiting as he huddled with a few other officers who were the last to get off of the ship. The craft shuddered slightly, jolted by the thrusters firing on occasion to correct its course, zipping through the black emptiness of space. The pods were away from the ship, but they still weren’t out of the woods.:: ::He glanced out the small viewport just in time to see the Minerva collide with the Tholian ships, a bright red and yellow flare replacing the once mighty ships. His gaze returned to the inside of the craft and he reached into his uniform jacket pocket, pulling out a picture of his very pregnant wife. A small smile touched the corners of his lips, framing the side of her face with the edge of his thumb.:: Goodwell: ::murmurs:: I’ll see you soon, honey. TBC… The Crew and Residents of Astrofori One The Crew of the USS Minerva As written by Tony aka FltCapt. Cassandra Egan Manno/Cmdr. Nic del Vedova (V238208LV0) Rich aka Capt. Roshanara Rahman (I238705TZ0) Deliera aka LtCmdr. Sky Blake (C238803SB0) Gina aka LtCmdr. Lael Rosek (I238110RH0) Cameron aka Cmdr. Evan Delano (T239007ED0)
  35. 4 points
    Ah, this is more like it, Tommy stretched a bit, stepping into the Commercial District. The hustle and bustle felt more like home than the Academy ever had, reminding him of the Southside Territory back on Sigma Iotia II. There's gotta be a place with some good gabbagool or pasta vasul' here. He set off to find a map to point him to some food. Too little time to learn what all these shop names were, he found himself quickly at a Replimat eating something that passed for baked ziti. It wasn't so bad, as far as Replimat food goes. Two hours before he had to set off, not enough time to check the action around here, Tommy decided instead to visit his quarters for his stay, stow away his gear, and send a message off to his Ma. His tall, slender frame was often at odds with these cramped crew quarters, leaving him laying with his head at a funny angle as he waited. The waiting was the worst. His eyes glanced across his PADD, brushing up on his training in his boredom. Check the time again, about 30 minutes, time to get rolling. The display dimmed, his olive complexion staring him back in the eye. Let's get it done, Tommy-boy.
  36. 4 points
    Excellent. I keep being more and more impressed with the depth of this simm community. Love it.
  37. 4 points
    Hey everyone! I am Jan-Willem, 32, from the Netherlands. I'm married and have two wonderfull daughters, a two year old and a three month old. Been a long time star trek fan, and i work in the military police. Glad to meet y'all, and see you out there! J-W
  38. 4 points
    I'm Josh. I live in southern central Indiana while I'm working on my PhD in Communication Science. I'm a cat dad to two fuzzy idiots. I've never simmed before, but I love storytelling. I am the long-time DM for my D&D group, so I'm looking forward to being a player again, and doing some collaborative storytelling in what is easily my favorite fictional universe. I have Charlie Knox to thank for introducing me to this, and I'm excited to start!
  39. 4 points
    ((Midnight - Vessine Glade Camping Site, Trill)) ::The evening had worn on. Some had retired to their tents relatively early, while others seemed determined to party until the point of collapse. Unusually, she couldn't see Nkai leading the charge on that one, and she wondered what drunken mishap had befallen the Rodulan to take him out of the running so early. Perhaps something involving Marshall -- his chief conspirator in arms -- given that there was no sign of her, either. ::Her attention was drawn away from the revelries by the approach of a tall, broad blond. Dressed in jeans, a light shirt and sturdy boots, Walter looked perfectly at home in the countryside. He'd been missing for most of the evening, stealing away to the forests for a walk. One hell of a walk, given how long he'd been gone and how dusty his boots were. She didn't resent him the solitude -- she understood his need for it, especially now that he was captain of one of the most cramped ships Starfleet had to offer. Everyone lived in each other's pockets aboard a Defiant, and it was hard for people like them.:: Reynolds: There you are. Good walk? ::He grunted in the affirmative, and took a seat next to her, surveying the scene in front of him. He smelt of the forest, of sweet tree sap and rich, earthy soil, and it was glorious. Oblivious to her appreciation, Walter watched the crowd, snorting in sardonic amusement at the drunken antics unfolding in front of him.:: Brunsig: Tomorrow will be filled with hangovers and regret. Reynolds: ::She chuckled.:: No doubt. ::As they sat there, he reached into his pocket, retrieving a small item and pressing it into her hand. The manoeuvre caught her by surprise, and he clearly anticipated her first question, answering her before the words had been formed in her throat.:: Brunsig: It was Oma Else's. ::Walter's grandmother. Quinn had only met her a few times, and it was quite clear where he had got his temperament from. The woman was as sharp as monofilament knife, in both intellect and tongue. She was a judge, and a skilled cellist, and Quinn had rarely heard anything so beautiful as the melodies she'd played -- except perhaps the duet grandmother and grandson had performed.:: Brunsig: She wants you to have it. Old family heirloom. ::Quinn looked down at the item in question. The small, luxurious box indicated that it was it was a piece of jewellery, though the blush-red of the fabric covering was faded with age, threadbare at the edges of the hinged lid.:: Reynolds: Shouldn't it go to your mum, then? Brunsig: ::He shook her his head, a frown pinching his blond brow together.:: Since she wisely extricated herself from He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, and hitched up someone who actually treats family like human beings instead of punching bags, she's out of the running. ::That made sense, though it wasn't something she'd expected. She knew that Else had kept in touch with Walter's mother, and had supported her throughout the separation and divorce. But divorce meant that Annalise was no longer Else's daughter-in-law, and technically no longer in line to inherit. The thinking seemed a bit antiquated for the woman, but then again, so was the item in question -- perhaps Else was leaning on tradition more strongly for an heirloom than she otherwise would.:: Reynolds: I see. ::She looked down at the box, and began to push the lid open with her thumb when Walter spoke again.:: Brunsig: I asked you a question. ::For a moment, she was off-guard. Had she got lost in her own thoughts? It did happen, but she was quite sure it hadn't just happened. So what in the world was he talking about?:: Reynolds: ...No you didn't. ::He sighed and frowned, impatience mixed with something else that was quite unfamiliar. She resisted the temptation to reach out and touch him, and gain that extra, telepathic insight into his thoughts. It was a cheat, and an invasion, and at best it would annoy him.:: Brunsig: And you said you needed some time to answer it. ::The air got stuck in her lungs as she forgot how to breathe. *That* was what he was talking about? He wasn't wrong, she'd never given him a definitive answer… but then again, the question had been posed years and years ago. It was only when her head began to spin through lack of oxygen that she forced herself to suck in a deep breath, spluttering out her surprise afterwards.:: Reynolds: This-- ::She pointed a finger at the offending box in her palm.:: This is an engagement ring? Brunsig: If you want it to be. It's up to you what finger your wear it on, it's yours either way. I'm under instructions from Oma; "Sie hat dich so lange ertragen, mein Junge. Sie geht nirgendwohin. Sie ist Familie." ::Quinn's German was just about good enough to piece together the meaning. She couldn't imagine being with anyone else -- she didn't *want* to be with anyone else -- and she knew the feeling was mutual. He was hers, and she was his, and together with Dylan and Amelia, they really were a family. A slightly odd and somewhat complicated family, but nonetheless. ::Family. ::Her delay in responding prompted a frown from Walter, and he started to turn away. Impulsive and desperate to avoid causing him any pain, she leaned across, catching his cheek with her hand and pressing her lips against his. Such public displays of affection were usually anathema to them both, but he answered her kiss with the same abandon, caught up in the heat of that unique, curious moment where they were transitioning from devoted lovers to a couple engaged.:: Reynolds: Let's get married. ::She murmured the words against his mouth, and he responded in kind.:: Brunsig: If we must. ::She leaned back and laughed, shaking her head, and he grinned back at her. A flush of pink had caught hold on his pale cheeks, and Quinn was quite sure it was echoed on her own. Their shared blush only deepened when he flicked open the box in her palm, plucking the antique ring from its cradle, taking her left hand in his. ::The diamond cluster glittered in the firelight, flames reflected in the intricate gold band. It was beautiful -- perhaps a little more extravagant than she'd choose for herself -- but she was proud (perhaps a little terrified) to be the new bearer of a Brunsig family heirloom. To her surprise, it slipped onto her ring finger as though it had been made for her.:: Reynolds: It fits. Brunsig: I had it resized. Reynolds: You know my ring size? *I* don't even know my ring size. ::He huffed, rolling his eyes. Despite the show of annoyance, he was still holding her hand, and that shared connection betrayed the amusement and fondness in his heart. Walter didn't say it often, but he loved her, just deeply as she loved him.:: Brunsig: It never ceases to amaze me how someone as capable as you can be so utterly hopeless. Reynolds: It's part of my charm. Brunsig: ::Dryly,:: You keep telling yourself that, Cupcake. ::She grinned at him, and despite his best efforts, he smiled back, sliding his arm around her waist. There was a lot to think about, such as where to hold it, who to invite -- she knew for a fact her father would hunt her down to express his extreme dismay if he didn't get to be there -- and even how they'd marry. But for now she was content to enjoy the moment; the simple pleasure of being close to him and watching the world go by.:: -- Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0
  40. 3 points
    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.
  41. 3 points
    @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
  42. 3 points
    The staff of UFOP: SB118 would like to congratulate all who saw their hard work and dedication pay off this month. Please be sure to congratulate these members when you see them around the forums and chat room! 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
  43. 3 points
    A fantastic introspective by @Saveron and @Prudence "Rue" Blackwell. "No, I'm not crying, YOU'RE crying!" 😜 ==== “And a thousand memories….is all I take with me...cause your smile is just too much to see….You’re just a thousand memories” ((Saveron’s quarters, USS Constitution)) ::As Rue had promised, the book she had given Saveron was well loved. The cover was aged, but had been cared for to avoid the degradation of time, and meanwhile the pages looked like they were turned carefully. Also as promised, there were odd little notes in the book. Sometimes written on the pags near the spine, and sometimes simply written on little pieces of paper tucked between pages, which gave the book a thickness that was a bit unnatural to it.:: ::On the inside cover of the book was a series of names, though only one with the name Blackwell, that being Rue’s : Prudence Blackwell, 323 West Burnside, Portland Oregon, 97706. And then a series of small notes, such as one written in an elegant script:: Note: To my dear granddaughters, May you make all of your own stories in the future to share with your grand daughters ::The rest of the cover was blank, save for a small child’s drawing of a unicorn in the corner: ::Saveron handled the book with care, mindful of its age and obvious value both as a family heirloom and as a paper book. Rue had given it to him freely, but he already knew that one day he would return it. There was too much family history here to simply leave with one who was not a part of it. The thought gave him pause for a moment, before he began turning the pages.:: ::As he flipped through the pages, some folded note papers fell out - some on proper stationary, a bit brown from age, and some from a lined notepad. On one page was something perhaps curious that stood out on one of the notes at the end of the book, written along the margins in neat handwriting:: What would it be like to love someone who would ultimately only ever see you as a fond memory….someone so beautiful...that you’d give everything...and then in the end..they simply could not return it. Lear ends up being one of the saddest people in this story. ::Lear. The isolated prince who loved the woman that the unicorn became; an unnatural shape for her. Real but temporary, ultimately his affection had centred on an illusion. The Vulcan considered the concept odd, but was coming to understand that such stories were metaphors. Terrans, like many other species, based their relationships on mutual attraction rather than practical compatibility. How often did they encounter the situation of that attraction not being returned?:: ::Considering his own experiences with them, perhaps far too often. It was not an agreeable thought.:: ::On another page towards the center:: Then again...I can understand Amalthea/the Unicorn. Having to be someone you cannot be for the one you love...seems like death. ::curiously, that one is added to, in a similar handwriting that seems refined by time:: And it is...it is a death of sorts. Gabe wants me to give up the stars for him. He wants children, but for me to raise them essentially on my own. He wants support, without it in return. I love him….and I don’t always know that he loves me back. Hell, mom wants grand children...and all I can hope for is that Lucas and Darcy will do that for her. ::It was a terribly personal revelation, and given what Wyn had told him about Rue and Ish’s encounter with an Ensign called Gabriel on the Starbase, he had no doubt who had written the note. It seemed like a bizarre kind of voyeurism, and yet Rue had known the notes were there when she gave him the book.:: ::Was the logical conclusion that Rue had wanted him to have that information? Or was that reading too much into the gesture? Perhaps she merely wished to share the story with him, and did not mind that her musings went with it. Terrans were not always logical. And yet… there were questions.:: ::Fairy tales had puzzled him greatly for a long time. Simple fiction he had eventually come to understand as a way of gaining alternate experiences, but the fantastic nature of tales like this one made them rather more complex. Eventually he decided that they were a manner of allegory and metaphor, often more than one. That didn’t necessarily make them easier to understand. But this one was important to Rue.:: oO If you have questions… Oo ::Rue and Wyn had transferred to the Eagle some months ago, and he had promised to maintain contact. Setting the book carefully on the edge of his desk, Saveron punched in the details for a call to the Eagle, and the owner of the book.: ((U.S.S Eagle, Rue’s quarters)) ::It had been while since she gave the book to Saveron. A while since they had parted. She had been busy on her new ship - new duties, new friends, and while she hadn’t forgotten Saveron by any means, she had been forced to put the occurrence to the back of her mind to focus on the present. When she got a call however, she blinked at the name and hit the console:: Blackwell: Saveron, how are you? Saveron: Sochya Rue, I am well. And yourself? Blackwell: I am well, I’m sorry I haven’t written much….admittedly it’s been a bit crazy. Saveron: I do not doubt that with her launch, the Eagle’s missions and duties have kept her crew occupied, as have those of the Constitution. ::After all, he hadn’t written either.:: However, now that we are on shore leave, I considered it an appropriate moment to enquire of your welfare and your progress aboard your new posting. Blackwell::She chuckled a bit to that:: Well, I won’t complain to that. I am good, the new posting seems to suit me thus far, and the crew is good to work with. ::The Vulcan inclined his head in acknowledgement.:: Saveron: That is acceptable. Is Wyn Foster also finding the posting agreeable? Blackwell: I think so….it turns out Choi was transferred here too, so they have been reunited. ::She smiled a bit to that, and rubbed her neck. She looked at his face on the screen and admittedly it was good to see him. She hadn’t forgotten the grey of his eyes, the calm in his voice, but it was so much better live than in memory, even through a console:: ::Choi and Wyn back on the same ship. The pair hadn’t parted under the best of terms, and Saveron was all too aware that Choi’s personality had likely been impacted by his entanglement with T’Reshik’s katra. He had done what he could, but there were limits.:: ::Still, Wyn and Choi had the opportunity, if they wished, to re-visit what there had been between them. Seeing Rue again, hearing those words, raised the question of what might have happened, had they not been separated. But he knew that there was no logic in dwelling on the thought, much as Rue’s brief company, her warmth and optimism, had reminded him of how preferable it was to have a close companion. But she was a million miles away. :: Saveron: One would express the preference that their reunion has been positive. ::He said mildly, round-about question.:: There were… complications, when they parted. ::But Rue knew that.:: Blackwell: I think they are doing well, though admittedly, I’ve been attempting to give Wyn...a little space ::She cleared her throat:: This might have been bold, but I accidently let it slip that..I helped you through your Ponn Far. ::She grinned a bit:: Afraid you left a few bruises that I had to explain. ::She hoped he saw the humor in the comment, or as much humor as a Vulcan could experienced:: ::The Vulcan considered the revelation for a moment, then shrugged gnomically. The Andorian physician knew more about the Vulcan’s sex life, such as it was, than he’d presumably ever wanted to. But he knew he could trust Wyn’s discretion.:: Saveron: Fortunately I did not require a medical in the days following your departure. ::He returned dryly.:: Blackwell:::She grins a bit:: Standard Procedure - Physical before full duty on a new ship, and well we both know Wyn wasn’t going to let me past that. ::She shrugged:: Anyways.. ::The Vulcan changed the subject.:: Saveron: I have read the book that you gifted me. ::So saying, he picked it up from the edge of the desk and brought it into view of the console’s camera.:: Blackwell: Oh? Did you enjoy it? ::She leaned forward, close to the screen:: Saveron: I was interesting. ::He allowed.:: I have always found the nature of ‘fairy stories’ to be somewhat challenging; the extended nature of the metaphor can cause it to become quite complex. Blackwell: Well, sometimes they are a bit vague...though with the Last Unicorn….I always considered it about a discovery of ...oneself. The self one knows can be there, and the one that someone avoids. But that is a personal interpretation. ::After a moment’s thought he inclined his head silently in acknowledgement. It was an interesting interpretation; one which he would meditate on.:: Saveron: Some of the notations within the book assisted in the translation. Others were… considerably personal. ::She swallowed faintly and smiled a bit:: Blackwell: I..suppose they were. I hope...you didn’t find anything offensive or...disturbing. ::She looked to him:: Saveron: I did not. ::He assured her.:: Rather I considered whether it was information that you might prefer not to share. Blackwell:: Oh...well..::She exhales: I ...figured in some ways...you got to..know a side of me few will ever see….and well, I was privileged to see a side of you others may not...so I..was ...and still am comfortable with you being privy to everything in that book. Saveron: Then I have no objection. ::Though he did consider that perhaps one day he owed her some answers in turn. But no, freely given.:: May I request some elaboration? Blackwell: Ask away. Saveron: In one of your… notes, mentioned that you ‘would not give up the stars’ for another’s preference. That is entirely reasonable. But what is your preference? ::He was curious. What did Rue want out of life?:: Blackwell: My preference...is well, to be able to..live a life where I can be free to explore..well, anything. To have adventures, to take chances, within reason. And in the end, if I do have a partner, then ...it’s with someone who may not want to do everything with me, but is always appreciative of why I might enjoy something, respects that...and I do the same for them. I mean...I guess in a way a bit like my parents. My father has done some strange, ridiculous things...and my mother as well…..because they ..have stars they want to grasp...and yet at the end..they come back to each other. I guess I sort of want that for myself. Perhaps it’s a bit selfish...or overly optimistic ::She grinned faintly:: ::The Vulcan considered her words.:: Saveron: I do not think so. Knowing what one wishes to achieve is the first step to doing so, and giving one’s partner both the support and the freedom to achieve their goals is part of what makes that whole greater than the sum of it’s parts. ::He opined.:: I am aware that many species base their relationship on mutual attraction first; amongst my own people, where it is necessary for an adult to find a partner, we look for congruency of views and life plans first. ::And it sounded as though Rue might do the same. Affection, if such were important to a Vulcan couple, could develop later. Of course many Vulcans had their partners chosen for them in childhood, but their parents still looked for similar or complementary personality traits.:: Blackwell: And for yourself? ::He considered before answering, not wishing to give a shallow response.:: Saveron: I seek to aid others, and to seek new experiences. To explore. ::He said mildly, with a slight incline of the head, acknowledging that she had used the same word.:: I wish to interact with other species and thus learn more about sentient life as a whole. I wish to see the galaxy. ::And since Rue had spoken of her personal preferences, he reciprocated.:: Whilst I appreciate the opportunity to raise Saavok, given the dangers to him that have been demonstrated I do not wish to have more children whilst I am in Starfleet. ::It wasn’t logical to expose them to such, and he already had kids.:: If I were to find a mate, I would prefer that they shared an interest in exploration, but also exercised significant independence. And, if not of the same species, would be accepting of my culture, as I would of theirs, rather than placing their cultural expectations on me. ::But that was the voice of experience talking.:: Blackwell::She nodded to that:: It makes sense...I...have a question...am I the first terran woman you have...had relations with. ::A pause, and then the Vulcan gave a slight shake of the head.:: Saveron: Negative. I had a relationship with a Terran woman whilst on the USS Invicta. ::He revealed.:: She was an agreeably intelligent individual with a comparable enthusiasm for space exploration, however her expectations for our relationship appeared to be based distinctly in her own culture. I... tired of disappointing her. Blackwell: ::She blinked a bit...the dots connecting faster than she wanted to admit:: Saveron: I elected to end the relationship after five months. I was finding it less agreeable, and I considered that she might prefer a partner of her own species. However… she reacted… very badly. ::He wouldn’t say ‘emotionally’ because such accusations were rude in his culture.:: It significantly damaged our previous friendship. I… did not wish to cause her grief, but I could not see how to avoid doing so without remaining in a situation which I found increasingly unsatisfactory. ::Which perhaps explained why, if the signs had been there from Rue, Saveron hadn’t seen them. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to see them. And what Rue didn’t need to know was just how much she had in common with his previous girlfriend. She appealed in all the same ways, but ‘once bitten, twice shy’.:: Blackwell:::::She looked to her hands for a moment, and then back up, slowly speaking::: Unfortunately, sometimes..that happens.::She looked down for a moment, her arms wrapping around herself:: When Gabe and I broke it off...I also took it badly. We both did really...I just tried to rebuild my life faster...I know that ..sense of abysmal sadness ...so I mean to always grow a full enough life that when losses happen, I have something to go back to. Something to keep moving for and to...but perhaps that is a bit of whimsical rambling on my part ::she smiled faintly:: Saveron: ‘Abysmal sadness.’ ::He echoed, turning the phrase over and finding it fitting.:: A pre-Surak poet once described such as ‘a hole in the soul where the wind blows through’. ::And having experienced the loss of his own bondmate, he had no wish to inflict such on anyone. He wasn’t certain of the assertion that it was ‘better to have loved and lost’. But Rue’s remedy was logical.:: I left Vulcan to pursue my interest in aliens and their cultures following my Unbinding from T’Rel. Following that interest gave purpose, like your own intentions. ::Responsibility for one’s own purpose and contentment could not be laid in the lap of another.:: I had not realised that such fallout was common amongst species who are more expressive with their emotions. Blackwell: I think at least amongst humans it is. We can be...illogically resolute in burning emotional bridges sometimes. What about with Vulcans...how does it work? Saveron: Whilst betrothal in childhood is common, there are situations where adult Vulcans are required to find their own partner. If an individual’s expression of interest is not reciprocated, or even if a brief courtship ends, the expectation is a return to the previous friendship or professional relationship. ::So the fallout of his last attempt had been something of a shock.:: Blackwell::She nods slowly:: Unfortunately, I don’t know if it is a weakness of humans, or other species, but….I can at least say that for specifies where..emotional control isn’t as firmly taught, it can be difficult to separate the emotions and move past them. It depends on the individual of course, but..I know in my past...I haven’t been precisely good about compartmentalizing ...but I hope to be. ::The revelation was both reassuring and concerning.:: Saveron: When a more… long-term relationship breaks down, even we can struggle to process it. ::He commiserated. He certainly had.:: ::Of course, if the breakdown ended in khun-ut-kal-i-fee, there would be no ‘loser’ left to struggle.:: Blackwell: I am...getting.. better at it. I have figured out ways to...focus on the present, what is important, though I think I’m almost too good now at putting emotions to the side without sorting out the ones I should act on, lest I regret the inaction ::she smiles faintly:: ::Those words earned another slight tip of the head, silent acknowledgement.:: Saveron: A difficult proposition. One which I have not resolved myself. ::He admitted quietly.:: There are times when the universe beyond Vulcan appears to evolve too quickly. If I deliberate as I would prefer, I may find the situation has already changed. ::For a moment there was the hint of lift at the corners of his mouth, a slow, almost sad blink.:: Blackwell:::She smiles faintly:: ..That sounds trying.. Saveron: I have considered that understanding one’s own preferences in advance aids in knowing them and thus recognising opportunities. ::It was something that he had pondered.:: It is something which I am meditating on. ::It was hard to seek what you wanted if you didn’t know what that was. That didn’t mean he’d found the answers yet. Like most Vulcans, Saveron had that external manner of calm and control, Rue was one of the close few whom he let past that outer facade, with whom he felt comfortable sharing his uncertainties.:: Blackwell: How so? ::She was feeling that moment as of now...hindsight was 20/20 and she was realizing that her foresight...was just about blind:: Saveron: In light of missed of missed opportunities. ::He said gently.:: Blackwell: ::She paused at that, and felt a sudden tightness in her chest, a forewarning:: Yes? ::She wanted to hear him say it. Saveron sought for words that would convey his meaning whilst also being acceptable to his cultural conditioning.:: Saveron: Had I recognised my own preference for companionship, I may have recognised your interest in a relationship. ::Maybe. It was an area where many species became quite difficult to read.:: Blackwell: I..I know. I wish that I had acted sooner. ::She looks down:: In a way, I wish I could have been like Lear...he ...is tragic, but he knew who he wanted, and was brave enough to try. Saveron: That is true. ::And even he had not succeeded. Was it better to have loved and lost? Saveron was not convinced, but at the same time he was aware that if one did not try, not only did not not have the chance of succeeding, but the potential for lingering doubt. Still, their current situation would not be changed by dwelling on it.:: Saveron: I note that Lear is considered a tragic character in the book. However, one notes that, like Mommy Fortuna and her harpy, he gains immortality in the memory of the unicorn. Do you think that being remembered, ‘when men are fairytales and books written by rabbits’ has any meaning? Blackwell: I think...in the end it is about the actions that we take...we hope that somewhere, somehow, we are all remembered. Mommy Fortuna did what no other witch could do, even the most talented, and Lear saved a unicorn...both of them did something that was ..thought beyond them, and even Schmendrick did that. Though I think if you are going to explore symbolism, Mommy Fortuna and Schmendrick is an interesting place to start. ::The intellectual challenge was intriguing.:: Saveron: Interesting. Why do you say that? Blackwell: Well, they are foils - Mommy Fortuna is a fake, a false witch, who dabbles and does so effectively with horrible intent. Schmendrick wishes to do ..basically the right thing, and is in fact a true Wizard..he doesn’t think that he needs to be immortal or whatever, he just wants to be acknowledged for what he is. Same with Lear, who is a hero..a true hero...and both of them in that..find immortality without even attempting. I suppose also humans have a very odd obsession with immortality...one which could take years to discuss. ::It was an interesting concept. The cemetery encountered in their recent mission rose in his thoughts.:: Saveron: I am not certain that Mommy Fortuna is a fake, though she is not as powerful as others. She was able to imprison two immortal beings. ::He pointed out.:: Perhaps rather she is a moral lesson, demonstrating the outcome of using one’s abilities, however strong or weak, to the detriment of others. ::He suggested.:: But immortality was important to her. ::He acknowledged.:: ::It seemed odd to him that Terrans might be obsessed with such, given their shorter lifespans, but perhaps it was because their lives were short. Always it had seemed to the Vulcan that they lived those lives to the fullest.:: Blackwell: Vulcans..have some sense of the everlasting, correct? ::She knew a bit of Vulcan culture, but she knew there were gaps:: Saveron: Affirmative. Some disaster notwithstanding, when I die my katra will be preserved in a katric ark. All that I remember will be stored and available to my kin. And all whom I remember. ::Which would certainly include Rue, whose mind he now knew.:: Blackwell: ::She smiles faintly and nods:: It is a beautiful tradition. I think humans try to..do the same in our own small ways. Saveron: I… have observed that theme in your literature, and visited a Terran cemetery. ::He acknowledged, recalling the rows of carefully crafted memorial stones.:: Know that I will not forget you. Blackwell: :She chuckles faintly:: Nor I you. You make yourself rather unforgettable. ::He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement.:: Saveron: Rue, I trust you recall our conversations, on the morning of your transfer. Blackwell: Of course ::She smiled faintly:: ::He didn’t take a deep, steadying breath; his emotional control removed the need for such. Otherwise he might have.:: Saveron: I wished to express that I would not have objected to exploring a further relationship, given the provision that it not impact our friendship. You are an interesting person, whose company I find personally agreeable. ::He’s spent some time meditating on the subject. His previous relationship with a young Terran woman - also an agreeable and interesting individual - had not ended well, but he was also aware that no two individuals were alike.:: Blackwell: ::She quirked a brow and paused to listen, tilting her head:: Saveron: However, I do not believe that there is logic in attempting a long-distance relationship, and I do not doubt that there will be those on the Eagle who will find you personally agreeable as well. And whom you might find personally agreeable. ::They were not easy words to say. Rue’s close company that night had been a poignant reminder of how it felt to have another to share one’s life with. Beneath his control, he wanted that. But if there was such a thing as a ‘one true love’ then Saveron would still have been on Vulcan. No, with the population of the Federation passing one trillian sentient beings, there was definitely more than one ‘special someone’ potentially out there. Plus he knew she had long carried a torch for Wyn, if nothing else.:: ::It was a moment where she wasn’t sure whether to laugh, or cry, or perhaps something between a both. She had known, and felt herself a long distance relationship would fail, but she couldn’t deny that she had held, in the cloistered corners of her mind, a small little whimsical fantasy. She looked to the screen and smiled with a bit of a soft smile:: Blackwell: I agree, and I think that you will also find someone personally agreeable as well. ::It took everything in her not to say that with a shuddering catch of her throat. And she was relieved when it came out easily:: ::He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement of the possibility.:: Saveron: If you do, do not wait until right before a transfer to inform them. ::He said mildly.:: Blackwell:::She looked down and chuckled for a moment:: True..I just..Oh I suppose I’m a bit of a coward. ::She grins a bit:: A...confusing coward, but a coward nevertheless. Saveron: I would not have said so. ::He said gently.:: Blackwell: I have always ...been afraid of..not losing people, but hurting people. More getting people hurt. It’s...a long story but..I for a long time blamed myself for an injury my brother received protecting me. And in some ways, I’ve...internalised that. Saveron: Hence why you began learning self-defence. ::He remembered her telling him.:: Yet no person is a rogue planet. Would you not come to the aid of a friend, a colleague, oO a lover Oo if they were in need? Even at the expense of your own safety? Blackwell: I would...absolutely. Of course I would. ::The truth was..she’d bring down the world to save those she loved:: Saveron: Then do not begrudge others the same privilege. ::He counselled, and the smile that did not show on his face was obvious in his voice.:: Freely given. Blackwell: I am...I am starting to work through it. It’s difficult, but I’ll get there. ::Again that slight inclination of acknowledgement. Romulus wasn’t colonised in a day; some wounds took time to heal. He knew that all too well.:: Saveron: You are not... aggrieved? ::He asked carefully.:: You did not have other expectations? ::Such would be illogical, but he had learned the hard way that not everyone embraced logic as he did.:: Blackwell: ..Aggrieved…::She paused, and swallowed again. She wished for a moment she had his control, his mastery of emotions..but she had to settle with the safety of a long range transmission that she hoped hid the line of tears that wanted to fall::. I mean ::She looked down:: I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I regret waiting. I’d be lying if...I say I won’t miss you, and ...feel a loss not of friendship...but of what could have been. But...as for that night...I meant what I said then, and I’ll say it now. Freely offered, Freely taken. We had one night, a wonderful night, and I’ll treasure it, but...even if I had remained on the Constitution-B..I would have not obligated you to anything…..The only thing I ask is that we remain friends, and that we both try and live well. ::Behind the wall of his emotional control, a flood of relief was being suppressed, along with the regret which had already been there. It was, perhaps, not a dangerous emotion. Having touched his mind Rue would know that, behind his control, strong emotions ran deep. But because of his cultural conditioning he found it difficult to express them in words; even when he wanted to.:: Saveron: That is acceptable... though I would return the sentiment. ::He said quietly.:: I value your friendship highly Rue, and I would prefer that you ‘live well’, and have your adventures. I would not object to hearing about them. Blackwell: Of course ::She chuckled a bit:: I mean, the next time I do something irrationally human, and Wyn gripes to you about it..I’ll have to tell you my side of things...right? Saveron: Affirmative. And, if you would not object, I will keep you - and Wyn - appraised of my own activities. ::That was how it was done, was it not?:: Blackwell: I would appreciate it. Saveron: Then let it be so. We are ever only a subspace call away. Blackwell: Yes, and we will...always have our memories. ::They would.:: Saveron: You may contact me whenever you wish. Blackwell: You as well, any time, just call. Saveron: Live long, love well, and prosper. ::He said, [...]ising the traditional invocation to something more personal.:: ::If there was anyone whom he wished well, it was Rue.:: Blackwell:....and to you. May joy and peace surround you, Contentment latch your door, And happiness be with you now, And bless you evermore. Good bye, Saveron...all the best. ((Saveron’s quarters, USS Constitution)) ::The connection closed and Saveron sat back, regarding the Starfleet logo which had replaced Rue Blackwell’s face for a long moment, then switched the console off. Picking up the book, he asked the replicator for a Vulcan scriber, then settled onto a floor mat, placing the precious volume on the low table.:: ::The book was a foil, a metaphor for many aspects of existence, and a collection of careful insights into a number of different minds. Perhaps it might also prove educational to those who would come after.:: ::First, he added his own name to the list inside the cover in flowing Vulcan script, then he turned towards the pages at the end, where Lear and Schmendrick contemplated the unicorn’s departure. Whomever read his notes would need to either read Vulcan script or have their PADD display a transcription, but such gave insight into the writer.:: ::Is it truly preferable to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all, and realise one might have done so?:: ((Rue’s Quarters, U.S.S Eagle)) ::She watched the connection close and turned off the console. The room on the eagle was cozy, decorated, but for a moment, it felt cold, and massive, and lonely. She pressed her face against her arm and let out a shuddering cry, one she wanted to choke down, one she wanted to ignore, but couldn’t. The tears came, the frustration, the anger, and tumultuous thoughts of how she should have, how she could of, and how she had lost...as a result of inaction….bad luck….she wasn’t sure:: ::After a long, and exhausting cry, she stood up and walked to her restroom and turned on the hot water, letting the steam fill her nostrils. She exhaled, and then rubbed her face with some of the warm water, clearing out some of the tears, with hurt, and pain. She considered for a moment that...in some ways, she was someone who understood regret...and now….had the knowledge that someone would potentially keep her in their memories forever….and while it was a bitter sensation, there was a sweetness to it. She straightened and looked into the mirror and murmured softly:: I can go on. I can live with this…...I’ll make sure...his wishes come true...Live long and Prosper, Saveron..you were loved well, and I hope you love well again soon... :And with a flick of a panel, she turned off the bathroom light and walked back into her main sitting area:: END A JP by Lt. Prudence Blackwell Chief HCO U.S.S. Eagle And Commander Saveron Emergency Medicine Specialist USS Constitution-B
  44. 3 points
    ((Jona ch'Ranni's Quarters, Deck 20, USS Columbia)) :: Jona entered his quarters and sat heavily on his bunk. The hours he had been awake were starting to catch up to him. His apprehension at the counseling session with Lieutenant Commander Jolara had long since passed. It was probably healthy to get some of his issues out in the open. And the pleasant conversations with Mandak and Duyzer at the Look Outt had done a lot to lift his spirits.:: ch'Ranni: oO Guess it doesn't hurt to make new friends. Oo :: His antennae twitched as he thought back to the message that was still waiting for him on the control panel. His agitation wasn't the result of being contacted by his parents. It was from not being contacted for the last four years. Their deafening silence toward him had been a knife in his side the entirety of his time at the Academy. It was hard to forgive such passive aggressive behavior.:: ch'Ranni: Alright. Let's see what they want. :: Jona activated the communication subroutine on the panel and the console sprang to life. The stardate and origin point of the message splashed across the screen in the standard blue lettering. The familiar face of his shreva appeared on screen. Her slight smile softened the middle aged features of her face. Nota sh'Ranni: Chei ... my son, I hope this finds you well. :: Jona sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, waiting for the recording to play out. :: Nota: I know it has been a while since we've talked and I'm sorry about that. Please forgive me. We have received every one of your messages and I just want to say that I'm proud of you. :: She paused and moistened her throat with a sip of srjula tea that sat steaming in front of her.:: Nota: When I heard that you have received your first assignment I begged the others to join me in sending you a message. Jona ... it's going to take them a little more time. All of us were very hurt when you decided to join Starfleet. Right or wrong, we felt you were abandoning your heritage and our family's legacy of service on Andoria. Vorka, Spel and Mir all love you very much. Please be patient with them. They'll come around soon. ch'Ranni: oO How is wanting to explore the galaxy a rejection of my family? It isn't! I wanted more than a boring life on my home planet. They should have understood that. Oo :: Jona looked away angrily from the monitor and the recording paused its playback automatically. He was far more hurt at his parent's actions than even he realized. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he shifted his gaze back to the screen. :: Nota: Jojo ... please. Give us a chance to make it right. We were wrong to hold you back. I know that now. You can do so much more in Starfleet than you ever would be able to in the Andorian Guard. You're such a good pilot, just like your father. You know what? I shouldn't tell you this ... Vorka simply loves that you got assigned as a helm officer. He can't stop bragging about you. "My chei, the helmsman." he says to our shipmates all the time. They just shake their antennae at him when he does that. He begins nearly every conversation with that - "my chei, the helmsman." :: Nota smiled and took another sip of tea. She set it carefully back on the table and then looked back to the screen. :: Nota: Please keep sending us updates. We would love to hear how things are going. And don't tell Vorka I said anything. It's our little secret. Love you, Jojo. Talk again soon. :: Her image blinked off and left the screen a blank black as dark as space. Jona could see his reflection in the glass surface of the screen and could make out the tears that now streamed down his cheeks. He wiped them away and composed himself. :: ch'Ranni: Computer, begin recording subspace message. Recipient, Nota sh'Ranni aboard the Andorian Guard vessel Marvassi. Computer: Recording. ch'Ranni: My shreva, I received your message today. It was good to hear from you. This message may take a few days or more to reach you as we are pretty far out in the galactic arm in a region called the Sagittarius Reach. I'm adjusting well to life aboard the Columbia. Let me tell you what's been going on these first few weeks. The excitement started when we lost contact with the captain while he was away from the ship... -- Ensign Jona ch'Ranni Helm Officer USS Columbia (NCC-85279) C239510JC0
  45. 3 points
    An excellent post by Ensign @Geoffrey Teller on board Veritas. Coffee aficionados of the world, unite! ((OOC: During shoreleave, a few days after the awards ceremony)) ::Between the full repair schedule and the personal project Teller had been working on, he hadn't had much time for sleep in the last few days. Exhausted and wiping his hands on his crumpled uniform pants, Teller took a moment to look around the converted conference room that had so occupied his waking hours with a smile. The place didn't look like much yet, but the parts he'd been able to scrounge or build had come together nicely and the crew had been enthusiastic to help. A few empty transport crates stacked two high and three across serving as the bar at the rear of the room, with folding chairs and transport crates covered in spare emergency blankets serving as seating around the room. A large, stylized rendition of the Vertias itself was stenciled on the bulkhead covering the rear wall and, Teller hoped, caught the eye as you walked in. It would distract from the otherwise utilitarian setting, at least until they made their way to the serving station. Teller inspected the converted atmospheric pressure monitoring gear anxiously, making sure the unusual array of tubing and cables still didn't show any signs of leakage or trouble. Content that things were as ready as they could be, Teller headed behind the bar into the small hydroponics bay he'd created out of a disused storage closet. Teller smiled at the small bushes which had already born their first seeds, the very same ones that were rattling through a combination tumbler/roaster he had assembled out of a geological mineral analysier that had been slated to get reclaimed for replication mass. The room smelled of nutrient fluid and the bright lights were well balanced for the needs of growing plants, but Teller could already see he'd need to expand this part of the shop soon or they'd be opening a new arboretum on this deck. The beds themselves were amazing technology and had cut the growing time of the trees to a tiny fraction of what they'd need in soil on a planet, he just hoped it wouldn't affect the flavor badly. As he inspected the readouts on the hydroponic beds the tumbler/roaster chirped successfully and ejected a vacuum sealed canister out one side. Teller looked at it apprehensively. Either this canister would contain the thing he'd been desperate for since he came aboard or it was another failed experiment and he'd have to try again with a completely new batch. Opening the seal gingerly, Teller took a tentative whiff of the freshly roasted beans, judging their color and casing with a practiced eye. Eyes widening in surprise as the heady aroma of the caffeol, Teller smiled widely.:: oO Oh these will do just fine. These smell better than anything the replicator can spit out on its best day.Oo ::Teller took the beans back to the bar in the main room and poured a portion into the grinder he'd assembled. One part modified ore sample processor thanks to a colonist on Havelys Hope, one part molecular analyser lifted from the remains of a tricorder, the grinder automatically calibrated itself to produce a grind perfectly tailored to the bean, not too fine or coarse, or so Teller hoped. He had started this project with nothing much more than the dream of a decent cup of coffee on his mind but, like most projects, this one had sprawled and took on a life of its own as soon as he started building. Tapping the controls on the side, the grinder whirred to life and began crumbling the beans down into a fine powder. While he waited, Teller resealed the precious beans into their storage container and tapped a few buttons on his makeshift pressurized water pump and brought the temp to 91c and the pressure to 58kg.:: oO I'm going to need to train a team of monkeys to run all this for me, or I'm going to need to get to my shift an hour early. I wonder if anybody on this ship knows how to run a bar. Maybe once these poor people have a real cup of coffee, they'll start lining up to do it. Yeah, right.Oo ::The grinder completed its work and dispensed a perfectly formed puck into the waiting filter basket with a chime, smoothly tamping down the edges into what used to be a biological sample collector, now re-purposed. Lifting it away from the grinder and connecting it to the pump, Teller was pleased to see his machining skills hadn't degraded in his time at the academy. The flush connection between the pieces looked perfect and Teller could see no liquid or steam leaking from the seams. Teller went to draw the first shot but then realized he had forgotten something critical.:: oO I didn't make any mugs! Replicator has made me lazy, it always provides the cup and the drink at the same time. Hmm... Oo ::Teller walked to the replicator embedded in the wall and considered his options briefly. The catalog had a wide variety of cups and containers he could choose from already on file and with time, he could design and fabricate his own design from scratch. Looking around the room again with a smile, his sights set on the stylized Veritas behind the bar.:: Teller: Computer, load image file 'Teller theta six one.' Resize and apply it to mug design sixteen, variant c and produce two dozen, half tumbler sized, half full sized. Execute. ::The computer churned on the request for a moment and then materialized a tray of mugs, each bearing the artistic Veritas in silver on the black vaccum flasks. Teller was pleased, these would keep peoples coffee piping hot all day and wouldn't spill on a duty station due to their sealed lids and adhesive base. He hoped the Captain wouldn't mind the bit of artistic license. Lifting the tray, he returned to the bar and stashed the mugs underneath. Setting the pump for a quadruple shot, he placed a small shot glass under the dispenser and hit the switch with crossed fingers. Within moments, the rich aroma of dark brewed coffee began to fill the small space and Tellers smile spread further. Checking the pressure gauge, Teller was pleased that the deeply re-purposed gear was performing as hoped and within 20 seconds, the very first real shot of espresso ever brewed aboard this ship was ready for him:: oO Looks good...got three bands of color from light to dark, a nice crema on the top...nice even blend. Only one thing left to do. Oo ::Teller inhaled the aroma of the shot with a happy sigh, brought it too his lips and took a hesitant sip which quickly turned into a desperate gulp.:: oO Perfection. Absolute heaven in a cup. I haven't had a cup this good since I left the yards. Old Jan would be proud. Oo ::Energized by his success, Teller began drawing additional shots into the newly printed mugs. Teller briefly considered making a cappuccino or a cortado, or even a 'Vulcan Hello,' but stopped himself. He had traded for some 'milk' from the colonists as well but he didn't think he was up to that much experimentation just yet, especially when the coffee itself had come out so perfectly.:: oO Alright, I need to make good on my promise now that I'm relatively sure this won't kill anybody. Oo ::Senses buzzing with the infusion of caffeine, Teller finished making drinks and shut down the apparatus. Putting the pump and grinder into a cleaning cycle so they'd be ready for the next customer, Teller looked around his little contribution to ships morale with a deep sense of satisfaction. Teller decided now was as good a time as any.:: Teller: Computer, where's the Captain? Computer: The Captain is in her quarters. Teller: =/\= Teller to Captain Rahman =/\= Rahman: =/\= Response =/\= Teller: =/\= Sorry to disturb you Captain. Wanted you to be the first to know I've completed the project we discussed at the party and I've got some very promising results I'd like to share. =/\= Rahman: =/\= Response =/\= Teller: =/\= Understood Captain, I'll be right there. Teller out. =/\= ::Teller grabbed two of the sealed mug and the vacuum sealed container of beans, then headed out of the converted conference room.:: oO I really need to think of a name for this place. Maybe...Veritas Brewing? Nah. Core Breach Coffee? Nah. Warp Plasma Roasters? Damn, this was going to be harder than building the place. Oo ::Teller headed to the turbolift at the end of the hall, whistling off key to himself, an extra bounce in his step.:: ((A few minutes later, Outside Captain Rahman's Quarters)) oO Hope she likes strong coffee. This stuff could take the paint of a hullplate but damn if it isn't tasty. Oo ::Teller depressed the call button on the Captains door and was asked inside. The Captain was at her desk working, a cup of replicated coffee cooling at her side. She stopped working on her console long enough to look up at the diminutive Ensign and the items he was cradling. Teller snapped to attention as if in a parade line.:: Teller: Captain, thanks for letting me run with this. I hope you're as happy with the result as I am. ::Teller placed one of the vacuum sealed tumblers on the Captains desk reverently and took a respectful step back.:: Teller: What do you think, Captain? Good enough for the Veritas? Rahman: Response Tags & TBC =============================== Ensign Geoffrey Teller USS Veritas - NCC 95035 Capt. R. Rahman, Commanding V239509GT0
  46. 3 points
    tl;dr stats at a glance: Name: Kayla Drex Species: Human Age: 23 Earth years Gender: Female Orientation: bisexual Origin: Inlet, New York, Earth (Adirondack Mountains region) Height: 160 cm (5' 3") Hair: light brown, usually pulled back into a short ponytail Build: runner's build, clearly athletic Desired Duty: Science, Temporal and Quantum research and practical applications development Family: Father: Dr. Gulliver Drex, quantum theoretical physicist Mother: Leanna Marsh-Drex, artist (paint, sculpture) Siblings: 4 older brothers (from oldest: Braden, Phillip, Michael, David) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Holy cow, this place is bigger than I thought, Kayla thought as she stepped from the shuttle onto Starbase 118. She took a steadying breath, ran a hand over her light brown hair to make sure her short ponytail was still within regulation guidelines, and tried her hardest to make 160 cm look tall. Since she was 10 years old - 13 years ago, this is what she wanted: to be aboard a starbase, destined for a ship where she could pursue her ambitions of developing a way to visually represent intangible phenomena. "Hey, can you pick a side?" A voice from behind Kayla snapped her out of her reflections. "What? Oh, I'm sorry," Kayla blushed as she stepped aside allowing an Andorian engineer to pass. She hated being in the way. It meant she wasn't contributing to the situation. She hitched up her bag on her shoulder and set off down the corridor. Having some time to kill, Kayla decided to check out the main dome. She'd only seen the promo materials, and was anxious to see it first-hand. On the way however, she couldn't help looking over the shoulder of an ensign who was having particular difficulty with his tricorder. "This stupid thing," the ensign muttered under his breath. "WHY can't they just make a setting that checks for decay rate and energy flow?" "It's because they're running in contradicting flows. If you isolate the readout to the net flow, then account for decay, you'll get the same result." The words were out of her mouth before she realized she was speaking. The blank look the ensign gave her was one of complete surprise. "Sorry, never mind," Kayla blurted and walked quickly away. Around a bend, and about 10 meters on, she found an alcove into which she slumped. Her face still burned with embarrassment. She'd been on the station less than ten minutes, and already made a fool of herself in front of two officers. "Excuse me?" Kayla looked up. The ensign from before was standing there looking down at her. His tricorder still in hand. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have butted in I-" "No, I came to thank you," the ensign interrupted. "You just saved my butt. That would've taken me the better part of the morning to do manually." "Oh ... um, no problem." Kayla stood up from the floor where she was sitting. "I'm Brandon, by the way." "Kayla. Kayla Drex." She shook the ensign's proffered hand. "This your first time on 118?" "On any starbase actually. I've spent most of my life on Earth." "Oh man. You're in for some good times. See you 'round, Kayla Drex, and thanks again."
  47. 3 points
    As he stepped into the Promenade after disembarking from the transport shuttle, Cob took a deep breath, taking in the smells and sounds of this new environment. The station, or this part of it anyway, felt a little more like home than San Francisco and the Academy had; less airy, more closed-in, noisier, and with the little hints of cooking spices, ozone, and human and alien body odors in the air that even the best filters and scrubbers couldn't entirely eliminate from a closed environment. He decided he'd do the same thing he'd done when he'd touched down on Earth for the first time, those long four years ago: take a stroll and find a place to grab a meal, in whichever order ended up being more convenient. As it happened, the meal ended up coming first this time. Cob sat down at the counter in the restaurant, a place called 'Granny's', and ordered a plate of stew and some flatbread with sour jam from the Trill woman behind the counter. As he ate, he chatted with her about Trill cuisine, which he'd first had on Earth, and similarities between some of their dishes and some of what he'd grown up eating in the Markab Prime settlement. As he described a Trill-run cafe he'd visited a few times in San Francisco, a young human man in a cadet's uniform that was red where Cob's was blue glanced over at Cob, then seemed to do a double-take. "Oh," the man said, "I'm sorry, if I'd realized there was another cadet here I'd have said 'hello' sooner. I'm Chadwick Dowe." He extended a hand toward Cob. Cob reached out and shook it. "Jacob Harkrow, but call me Cob." "Well, a pleasure to meet a fellow Starfleet up-and-comer, Cob." Chadwick cleared his throat. "And I am sorry about the whole not-noticing-the-uniform thing, it's just... well, for a Starfleet cadet you're a bit, well, larger than average, aren't you?" Cob tried to suppress his half-smile, half grimace. At just under 1.8 meters, Cob was just a little shorter than average height for a human man. One thing he'd developed at the Academy was an allergy for euphemism; he'd have preferred it if the man had just said what he'd really meant instead of dancing around the word like it was something shameful. "You're allowed to say 'fat', Chadwick. And yep, that's how we make 'em out on Markab Prime." He patted his belly with one hand. "Famine resistant, as my uncle used to say." "I, well, I didn't want to offend, but... yes. It's just, I've never seen a hundred-twenty kilo Starfleet cadet." "Closer to one-thirty-five, actually," Cob said, his voice even and measured, "It's an easy mistake. But I'm fine with it, my instructors were fine with it, and Starfleet Medical seems to be fine with it, too. My vitals are all good, I was hitting 95% of the Federation Presidential Fitness Standards even before I left Markab and discovered how much easier it was to do a pull-up in only 1G, and I ran just as many laps around the Academy grounds as everyone else in my class. I wouldn't be here if I weren't every bit as good as every other cadet to make it through the Academy." The other cadet was silent for a moment. "That," he said slowly, "sounded like something you've recited a fair few times." Cob sighed. "I've had some practice, yeah. It's been about a year since the last time I had to break out, though. Feel a little rusty." "Sounded all right to me," Chadwick said. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Consider me suitably chastised, and if there's anything I can do to help a fat fellow cadet out between now and the start of his cadet cruise, just let old Chadwick know." Cob let himself smile. "I appreciate that. Thanks."
  48. 3 points
    Hello there, My name's Connor, and I found this place through Reddit. I've dabbled in groups of this type before, but am looking forward to giving it a more serious go.
  49. 3 points
    Hello everyone! I am Joe and I will be simming as Ari Tullus, a Trill. Ari knew from a young age that he wanted to be joined with Tullus and worked towards that end. When he was joined it was the greatest day of his life. Tullus has had 8 previous hosts and is nearing 500 years of life, which is old even by Trill standards. Ari was chosen as the final host of Tullus, a fact which weighs heavily on his mind. He takes this responsibility very seriously and strives to seek out new experiences so the final life of Tullus is as full and successful as possible. With the ability to access 500 years of memories and experience, Ari is considered a wise advisor and trusted friend. Because Ari has so many experiences he has been willing to accept any assignment Star Fleet feels he is most suited for, though he dreams of being a starship captain. The goal is to be the best, explore strange new worlds, and ensure Tullus shuffles off the mortal coil with no regrets.
  50. 3 points
    Here’s to the Columbia! And her maiden voyage with Captain Whittaker 🍺
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.