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    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
    (( Ayiana’s Quarters, USS Gorkon )) :: Ayiana stared into the mirror and saw a stranger looking back. :: :: It was the collar. It felt so alien. Funny how a simple change in pigment could add the weight of the world, or in this case, the ship, on one’s shoulders. The red didn’t just signify a change in department; Ayiana was taking on the most important job on the ship, next to the Commanding Officer, of course. :: :: Ayiana was leaning forward against her bathroom counter, her arms propping her up. Her hair was immaculate, save for a few wispy strands hanging forward. Her nails had been freshly trimmed and painted; instead of the usual red she wore, she had a “nebula” effect on them. Swirls of yellow, blue, violet, orange, and red covered each nail. The pattern shifted depending on one’s point of view and the light hitting it. No wonder it was called “nebula.” It was ironic how much her everyday look reflected her new uniform - red hair, red nails, red blush, red lipstick, and now a red collar to top it off. Red had always been Ayiana’s favorite color. Perhaps she was destined for this? :: :: The award ceremony was in a few minutes, and it would signify the official start of her new job. Why was she feeling so anxious, then? She had been in command of an entire *department* for years. :: Sevo: oO Why, oh why did I say ‘Yes’? I was perfectly happy down in the labs. Oo :: The image of her in the mirror suddenly spoke. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: You could have said ‘No’, you know. :: Ayiana stood straight up, and blinked. Her mirror image stood up too, but took a different stance, placing her fists on her hips, as if scolding a child. Ayiana rubbed her eyes, then looked back at the mirror again. The other her was still there. :: Sevo: But it felt wrong to turn down Admiral Reynolds. :: Her mirror image crossed her arms in front of her chest. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: So? Reynolds wouldn’t have been offended, and you know it. It was a huge honor to ask you, especially after what you went through recently. Sevo: You mean the reprimand and the bunking…1, 2 Mirror Image Ayiana: Duh. Sevo: Well you don’t have to be so rude! Mirror Image Ayiana: Think how far you’ve come. :: Her mirror image changed. Its collar shifted to the familiar teal of science; the color Ayiana wore since her first day on the Victory. Further, a single gold pip adorned her collar, and Mirror Ayiana appeared younger; no lines or wrinkles criss crossed her face; and no blemishes or scars were apparent. Her hair was a bit more unkempt, and she had a large blue bow where her ponytail was tied instead of a more modest and standard-issue hair tie. Even her posture changed, hunching over more, and looking more reserved and shy. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: Remember your first day on the Victory? Commander Eerie was the first person you talked to. :: An image of Eerie appeared in one corner of the mirror; slightly translucent, as if it was a ghost. He looked like he did four years ago; which looked just about the same as today, to be honest. :: Sevo: :: Smiling. :: No, there was a Caitian in the shuttlebay.3 :: Immediately, an image of a slightly younger L’rann similarly appeared in a separate corner from Eerie. Ayiana had forgotten that she was on the Victory back then, too! The Caitian was the first person Ayiana spoke to after coming aboard. She was kind, despite Ayiana nearly vomiting on the woman’s boots after spending a week in a confined runabout. :: :: Mirror Ensign Ayiana hunched over, and stared down at the floor as she spoke. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: E-excuse me, sir! My mistake! Sevo: oO Did I really look and act like that? Oo :: Mirror Ensign Ayiana, sensing her thoughts, straightened her posture and looked back at Lt. Commander Ayiana. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: Yes, you did. You were quite the wallflower. :: Ayiana smiled, remembering Eerie calling her that on her first day. Or was it then-Commander Nugra? :: :: An image of Nugra appeared in another corner of the mirror. He still had both eyes back then, and only had the three pips of a Commander on his red collar. Ayiana remembered first seeing her Gorn commanding officer. It was extremely frightening, as if he would eat her alive if she messed up. And she knew she would have. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: But you didn’t mess up. On that mission, you helped defeat the Hunger. :: The Hunger. An ancient, extra-galactic species from the dawn of time, bent on conquering the galaxy. That was Ayiana’s first mission - to defeat the Hunger. And they did, with Ayiana’s help. She remembered hunching behind Eerie as small mechanical spiders assaulted the team. She had been tapping at her tricorder, and managed to interfere with the network that coordinated them and gave them a rudimentary hive intelligence. Without it, they were disoriented, and her team was able to stop them.4 :: Sevo: That was harrowing. Mirror Image Ayiana: But you persevered, and moved on. Then… :: Her mirror image’s appearance shifted again, this time with a black pip signifying her promotion to Junior Grade. Mirror Ayiana’s posture straightened. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: Commander Nugra promoted you to jay-gee and made you Chief Science Officer of the Victory. :: The image of Nugra nodded appreciatively, and the corners of his tooth-filled mouth bent upwards in a Gorn smile. :: Sevo: Yes. After Lt. Commander Rossh departed suddenly. :: She smiled, remembering the black-furred Caitian. She had only served under him for a couple of missions. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: Yes. Remember your first day as Chief Science Officer? You stood outside the door to the main science lab, trying to summon the courage to appear authoritative to your new subordinates.5 Sevo: And a lot of them were higher-ranked than me. I was terrified they wouldn’t listen to a lowly jay-gee. Mirror Image Ayiana: But they did. And you ran the department splendidly. :: It wasn’t as hard as Ayiana thought at the time. She had shortly found her groove and settled into it. :: :: L’rann’s image was replaced by Commander Vess. Both him and Eerie were the only two individuals on the Gorkon whom Ayiana had served with since her first day. She looked at Vess; thinking of him as something more than a colleague. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: Of course he’s more than a colleague. Vess has seen you naked… :: Ayiana mentally facepalmed. How could she forget? :: Sevo: He’s a doctor! He’s seen lots of people naked! :: During a mission, she had been electrocuted and slipped into a coma. She spent a number of days in sickbay after Vess had performed an operation on her. That event triggered a change in the link between Ayiana and the Sevo symbiont. With Talia Kaji’s help, Ayiana was able to reintegrate herself, but things hadn’t been the same.6 :: Mirror Image Ayiana: And despite everything you had just gone through, Commander Nugra saw fit to promote you to Lieutenant. :: The mirror image of Ayiana shifted again, replacing the black pip with a second gold, denoting her promotion to Lieutenant. The large blue bow in her hair was replaced by a more subdued standard-issue hair tie. :: Sevo: And when the Victory was decommissioned… Mirror Image Ayiana: Captain Reynolds kept you in the role under her new command. :: As before, an image appeared of Captain Reynolds, with only four pips no less, in the last corner of the mirror. Like Nugra before, she nodded acceptingly. Ayiana stared at the mirror for a moment, looking at the faces of some of the people who had been instrumental in Ayiana’s career. :: Sevo: Yes. I was grateful; I had grown to like being CSO. Mirror Image Ayiana: Just as you will grow into the role of First Officer. :: The image of her shifted yet again, taking on Ayiana’s current appearance. All four of the ghostly images of Nugra, Eerie, Vess, and Reynolds smiled at her mirror image and nodded approvingly. :: Sevo: But this is so much different! It's not just a single department anymore; it's a whole ship I’m responsible for! Mirror Image Ayiana: So? The principle is still the same. And you’ve been in command before. :: True. She had done numerous stints in The Chair during duty shifts; even while Over There. But it wasn’t quite the same. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: Sure, you’ll probably trip a few times. You’ll mess up. But Reynolds will be there for you; Vess will, too. :: The ghostly Vess smirked and shrugged. Well, maybe he would be. :: Sevo: But my anger issues… Mirror Image Ayiana: Yes. You’ll have to watch that. But you’ve been doing better. You've seen counselors, and tried calming techniques. And you know what will probably happen if you have another slip-up. Sevo: I won’t just be demoted; I’ll probably be court-martialed. :: Mirror Reynolds nodded. Her stare was icy. She would be watching Ayiana closely. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: So don’t screw up. Sevo: Thanks. I’ll try not to. :: There was a pause as Ayiana stared back at herself. :: Mirror Image Ayiana: Well?! What are you waiting for, Commander? Get out there! :: Ayiana straightened her stance and nodded at the mirror. She turned and headed out of the bathroom. As she was crossing her bedroom, she turned and took one last glance at the mirror. All the images were gone and it was blank once more. Ayiana grabbed a PADD from her desk as she headed out of her quarters to the dinner. :: Sevo: oO I got this. Oo ---------------------------- Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo First Officer U.S.S. Gorkon Image Collective Co-Facilitator Wiki Ops Training Team V239109AS0 --------------------------- (( 1 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=SIM:The_Court_of_Inquiry )) (( 2 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=SIM:The_Verdict )) (( 3 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=SIM:Ayiana_Sevo,_Arrival )) (( 4 http://sims.starbase118.net/sim.php?simnum=2366853 )) (( 5 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=SIM:Ayiana_Sevo:_I_Have_Minions! )) (( 6 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=SIM:Ayiana_Sevo_Disjoined_Arc ))
  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. 6 points
    (( Agricultural Administration Building - Ih’aesn - Sikuna )) :: Nugra was caught between feeling surprised by the fact that their situation had gone downhill to realizing that it always went downhill. Yiggtissi's suit had been compromised and the governor of this city was dead. He had two Starfleet officers to protect in case the colonists became a mob. He was not in the mood to kill anyone at present. :: :: Stepping out into the hallway while everyone followed their assignments, Nugra pulled his PADD out of his pocket to quickly get an idea what was going on with the other teams.:: :: There was a strange tickling in Kaji's mind as she neared the compound, like a familiar presence, and she slowed to pinpoint it. She frequently recognized the sounds of people's mental "voices", but not just a sense of presence. Stretching her telepathic senses, she searched for the source, but it seemed far away to the north. A mystery for later, then. :: :: Talia pushed her way through the Admin building's doors, grateful for the shelter. There were only a few military members around, most non-essential personnel having been sent home. A guard scanned her badge, as she was a civilian currently and not in any uniform. She traced her way through the corridors to the governor's office. Atlai had told her to meet the Starfleet team there. But when she turned the corner and looked down the hall, Talia stopped cold. :: :: It felt like her mind had frozen, incapable of actually processing thoughts. The figure at the end of the hall loomed over his surroundings just as he loomed over both her dreams and nightmares. The damn Gorn would just not leave her in peace! Was he to haunt her waking hours as well? Countless nights spent curled up in bed, too afraid to go back to sleep and relive his death yet again wasn't enough? Or the other nights where she wished she COULD get back to sleep to continue a different sort of dream, where they were just together? :: :: It took the mundane action of him checking his PADD to snap Talia out of her stupor. This wasn't a hallucination, it was Nugra. In the flesh. That stupid, beautiful, scaly flesh. :: :: Upon seeing a report that negotiations were not faring well, Nugra let out a grunt of irritation. Hopefully, Sevo was not going to punch a Romulan...again.:: :: The irritated grunt got through the last of Talia's disbelief. :: Kaji: :: striding towards him:: Oh gods, oh gods. Nugra! :: She threw herself at him, probably before he even knew it was her, but she didn't care. Decorum be damned, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. :: :: It was the scent at first that he detected but his brain refused to register it as being true. The PADD had his attention but it was the squeal of her voice and the arms that tried to wrap around his bulk that broke him out of the thought and into shock. He [...]ed his head to see what had gotten a hold of him and was met with a head of curly hair, black eyes, and the happiest grin he had ever seen. :: Nugra: oO Talia! Oo :: A million emotions soared through him in the half a second his mind hesitated. She was on Obsidia Colony and he had been long gone, hidden in the depths of the Gamma Quadrant on the USS Athena. How was it possible that they had met on a Republic world. His mind struggled to form words to speak to the woman he thought he had lost forever. :: :: She couldn't let go, even though her feet were dangling six inches off the floor. She just buried her head in his neck and hoped he couldn’t feel the tears. :: Kaji: How...How are you even alive? :: There were no words. How could he say anything to her right now when his heart felt like it was going to explode. He wrapped his giant hands around her waist, hefted her to eye level and gave her a crushing hug of joy. Only one word got out of this lizard. :: Nugra: ::choked up:: Talia. Kaji: You freaking lizard, you couldn’t even send me a note, like “hey I’m not dead anymore, so you don’t need to keep grieving”-- not that I was grieving your ugly mug, because you’re too stupid to…killing yourself like that to “save everyone” or whatever. :: Talia felt that her points were being undermined by the sobs breaking through and garbling her words. :: Nugra: Starfleet Intelligence…. Kaji: :: freeing one hand to slap the back of his head:: That is an astoundingly terrible excuse. Nugra: I should have sent you a note once I was released but...I didn’t know what to say. Kaji: Anything. Anything would have been good. Nugra: ::sheepishly:: Hi, Talia. I am alive. Kaji: :: mumbling as she buried her face in his neck again.:: [...]. I missed you. Nugra: I missed you too. :: Another voice broke into the conversation that snapped Nugra back. :: N’Lee: ::grinning:: As sweet as this is, Captain, I need my doctor. Please put her down. :: Chagrined, Nugra put Kaji back on her feet and gave his uniform a dutiful but too long tug before straightening back to business. :: Nugra: Of course, Sub-Commander. :: To Talia:: Doctor Kaji. We seem to have an outbreak and one of my crew members may have become infected. Shall we? Kaji: :: with a lightness she hadn’t felt in over a year, she laughed,:: Yes, Sir. :: As Nugra walked past N’Lee, he heard the Romulan whisper to him. :: N’Lee: ::grinning:: Don’t worry, Nuggs. I won’t tell the Admiral you were hugging doctors in a middle of a crisis. JP By… -- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Captain Nugra Taskforce Security Liaison Publicity Facilitator The Archivist '17 Simming Prize Laureate USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ & --------------------- Dr Talia Kaji Civilian Medical Doctor Romulan Vessel, Mhr'Vaat E239008TK0 ---------------------
  13. 6 points
    I wanted to publicly thank the Veritas crew, our guest simmers, and other well-wishers throughout the fleet who helped to make the IC wedding between @Mei'konda and @Evan Delano so enjoyable. I know there are still a handful of scenes wrapping up (I have some tags I need to respond to myself), but I wanted to make sure to put this out there before Veritas gets too wrapped up in our next mission. There were a number of really fantastic sims that came out of the event, and I really enjoyed the chance to explore my character and these relationships in a different context, and to see other people able to do the same. Special thanks to @Tony (Mint) and @Saveron who came back from their respective LOAs to participate, as well as @Quinn Reynolds and @Rune Jolara who were able to sim with us, even though I'm sure they have plenty to keep them busy on the Gorkon and Blackwell. One final shout out to @Roshanara Rahman, who helped to facilitate all of this both in and out of character: you rock!
  14. 6 points
    ((Tasha’s Quarters, USS Gorkon)) ::Tasha grinned, picking up the miniscule nacelle. She could feel each and every bump and imperfection in the material. Her new, cybernetic fingers were much more sensitive than her flesh and blood ones. The technology had been pioneered by Doctor Noonian Soong, and introduced to the federation through Data.:: ::Soongs work in the cybernetic field had been one of Tasha's main sources of inspiration during the construction of her prosthetic. She had reviewed technical information regarding Data's arms and read papers written about him. She glanced across the room to where a picture of Data now hung on the wall, holding a proud place between her Claymore and a model ship.:: ::It was odd, Tasha wasn’t quite sure why she had replicated the photograph. As Tasha, and almost everybody knew, Data had been killed in 2379 aboard the Reman Scimitar. Yet Tasha felt that his legacy survived, most notably to her through the advances he had led in the field of cybernetics, and now through her left arm.:: ::Upon returning to her quarters after the surgery one of the first things she had done was replicate the photo and place it on the wall. She felt it was her way of honouring him, and thanking him for what he had, indirectly, done for her.:: ::She smiled and picked up a pair of small, delicate tweezers and a small brush. She used the tweezers to pick up the miniature nacelle and dipped the brush in a pot of glue. Working carefully Tasha attached the nacelle to the pylon then placed the finished model aside to dry. Once it was dry she would paint it, and then it would truly be finished.:: ::Tasha heard a quiet meow as Spark jumped onto her lap and rubbed up against her, demanding attention. She smiled and rubbed his head, hadn’t Data had a cat too?:: Ensign Tasha MacFarlane Engineering Officer USS Gorkon G239311TM0
  15. 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
  16. 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
  17. 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!
  18. 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 -- * --
  19. 5 points
    ((Diplomatic suite - Two hours after the briefing)) ::Mirra had gone directly to the diplomatic suite, which consisted of several conference rooms, that happily doubled as dining rooms, and a very large sitting area. The walls were painted in warm, neutral tones. A bit of a change from the stark clinical set ups she was used to. Along with her research into the art of diplomacy, she also found a handy guide to menu suggestions...although the way it was written, she greatly hoped it wasn't outdated. "When hosting a bevy Klingon warriors for dinner, one paramount suggestion is to skip the doilies and fine china, these dainty decorations just won't do for the proud race of ridge heads- oO Wait...By the Gods...this says actually says ridgeheads...who wrote this?! Oo ::Skipping ahead:: "Consider the delectably distinguished dishes of the Gagh variety- "First up, you have the Bithool gagh, which have feet. Pungent and sure to give a kick." oO....There is more than one kind of Gagh...? Gods protect me...Oo "Followed closely by Filden gagh, which is squirmy and savory. Next, Meshta gagh, a grand party pleaser as this variety jumps around, often engaging the entire table to catch the dinner.- oO By the Four...it...jumps?! No. Not that one. Ever. Oo "The more common Torgud gagh variety just offers a pleasant wiggle, less likely to escape, and finally Wistan gagh, which has been marinating and packed in targ blood. oO That's it. I'm going to vomit. And make Theo handle the dinner...Oo. "If Gagh isn't your fancy, consider the savory and delicious Heart of Targ. A simple dish consisting of a fresh Targ heart resting on a bed of wilted greens." oO I can't do this. Oo ::She was moments away from finding the closest lavatory and swearing to never eat anything ever again when the familiar voice of Lt. Commander Shayne came across asking for her presence on the bridge.:: Ezo: ::slightly green:: Oh Shayne I could kiss you right now... ::Mirra set down the PADD, gingerly and backing away slowly if somehow these Klingon dishes would pop out of the screen and chase after her. With a final shudder, she exited the Diplomacy suite with only a small amount of relieved haste.:: ((Bridge - Deck 1 - USS Blackwell)) ((Moments later)) ::Mirra stepped onto the bridge, feeling a little less nauseated, and seemingly just in time.:: Whittaker: Very well then, let's not keep them waiting much longer. ::he moved to the rear of the bridge and stopped just as the turbolift doors opened, admitting Lieutenant Commander Ezo.:: Ah, Mirra- turns out you're going to be needed in the transporter room with me. Commander Shayne: have Counsellor Jolara meet us there- and you have the bridge. ::Shaking off the menu induced horror, she steeled herself and gave a confident nod:: Ezo: Of course Sir. Shayne: Aye, sir- I have the bridge. Whittaker: ::to Shayne again.:: We're about forty minutes from P-409 Sigma if I'm not mistaken. Begin our long range scans. ::to Pandorn.:: Mr. Pandorn- you can assist him but be ready to act in case our friends out there- ::he motioned to the image of the gik'tal on the viewscreen.:: -decide to liven up the party. Shayne: Very good, sir. Pandorn: Will do, sir. ::He starts to tap his console.:: ::Whittaker than refocused.:: Whittaker: Ensign Mandak, find Commander Thoran and see if you can assist with the security arrangements. Mandak: Response ? ::A few moments later, in the corridor, away from the bridge Mirra latched onto Theo's arm and looked at him with horror:: Ezo: We have to have Dr. G'Renn give us something to suppress our gag reflexes or we're going to...::grimacing::...dishonor all over ourselves with this dinner... Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::fighting a gag at the memory:: I don't care if she thinks less of me. I won't make Theo, I absolutely won't. Otherwise, my first act as a diplomatic officer is going to offend a large group of Klingon officers before the main course. ::her eyes widened:: Is their entire diet based on one elaborate dare?!? Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::scowling:: This is not funny Theo Whittaker! ::Alright, so it was a little funny. A snicker escaped as she fought for composure:: Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::smirking:: Hey, you hired me. I'm just trying not to shame you in a public forum. ::the transporter room lay just ahead. The earlier jovial attitude muted as they approached the doors.:: Time to greet our guests. Whittaker/Jolara (if present) : Response? ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Mirra Ezo, MD Diplomatic Officer USS Blackwell C239205ME0
  20. 5 points
    BACK - Antidis Memorial Medical Center, Lyaksti’kton (Alpha Sauria IV)) :: The sun’s golden rays danced across the labor room and lit up a few of the shiny metal instruments displayed on the table. The nurses were walking around, with purpose, carrying several tools and sterile cloths. Yiggtissi stood next to the bed. A slight look of confusion on his face. He was positive that he was somewhere else a few minutes ago. He couldn’t quite remember but it he was swear he remembered seeing himself lying on a bed. Something was happening. He felt a hand on his shoulder. :: Dr. Yogish: Yiggtissi! It is time.. :: The Saurian looked down and was met by the smiling face of his wife. As quick as they came, his previous thoughts vanished and all that mattered was this moment. It had taken almost ten months to find and isolate the gene that was responsible for Innuoasag’s infertility but with his mentor’s help, they had done it. The research team, led by Yogish and Yiggtissi, put to bed the nasty DCOP syndrome that had plagued many female Saurian’s over the centuries. It had been a win for the entire species. The Saurian Science Academy had awarded Dr. Yogish with ribbons and plaques and the all the glory that came with it while Yiggtissi had only one motive. Was it selfish? Absolutely. He didn’t care. Curing the terrible disease for the whole, of course, was their intended result but Yiggtissi only had one thought in mind. And I was this moment. :: :: Innuoasag was in the final stages of labor. Sweat had beaded up on her forehead which Yiggtissi carefully wiped way with a sterile cloth. His smiled lovingly at her, knowing that any second, the beautifully speckled egg that would hold their daughter would enter the world. A daughter they thought they would never have. They had spent weeks trying to settle on the perfect name and they always came back to one word. The Saurian language word for miracle. Jainnorra. He glanced up and saw a large group of Saurian’s plastered against the room’s window. Both families of the coupe had come together and were watching. Smiling and laughing at the pure joy of it all. :: Dr. Yogish: Ok Innuoasag, now one more small push and we can greet this wonderful miracle. :: After several seconds, the room was full of happy chatter from the female nurses and the deep chucking of Dr. Yogish. He held up the blue and white speckled egg in a large blue cloth. Yiggtissi leaned down, placing his forehead against Innuoasag’s. :: Yiggtissi: She is here my love. :: Innuoasag could not contain her happiness. Tears of extreme joy ran down her cheeks. Dr. Yogish handed the egg off to the nurses who placed it on a small bio bed. They began various scans as Dr. Yogish came around to the side of the bed and joined Innuoasag. :: Dr. Yogish: ::Whispering.:: We must thank the First One’s for this incredible miracle. I am so happy for you both. Rest and we speak later. :: Dr. Yogish stood tall and gave Yiggtissi a pat on the shoulder. With that, he made his way over to the nurses to assist them in their scans. Innuoasag closes her eyes as the two shared a kiss. Yiggtissi heard his eldest brother shouting from the outside the room. He was dressed in his Saurian Defense Fleet bdu’s and pounded on the glass. :: Guzk: Way to go little one!! :: He grabbed a passing nurse, who was clearly shocked. :: That’s my little brother and his wife in there!! :: The nurse freed herself from the brute and quickly scurried down the hall. Yiggtissi had finished his intimate kiss and was watching the interaction. He chuckled. :: Yiggtissi: Well it appears that Guzk is very happy for us. Innuoasag: :: Laughing. :: So I hear. Why don’t you greet them? I need my rest. :: Yiggtissi nodded and planted one more kiss on Innuoasag’s forehead. As he made his way to the door, he caught a glimpse of his daughter’s beautiful shell sitting on the warming bed. For Saurian’s, the coloring of the egg would be talked about for years. There were various meanings for various egg colorings that had been passed down from generation to generation. It was customary to save the egg, as Yiggtissi’s mother had done with all of her children. They were displayed, proudly, on a shelf in her home. The door’s swished opened and the Saurian doctor joined his family in the hall. His father, Tukmeeh, was the first to greet him. :: Tukmeeh: :: Grabbing his shoulders. :: I am so proud of you my son. Treasure this moment in time. :: His mother, Cairittin, was next in line. :: Cairittin: Look at that beautiful coloring. With those deep blues, she is going to be very athletic. :: Being a man of science, Yiggtissi dismissed the old “wives” tales surrounding the coloring of the eggs. Of course, there was no way to tell that just by looking. Or so he thought. Later in life, his daughter would prove him wrong. She would become the most athletic in the family, even besting her uncle Guzk in several hunting trips. :: Yiggtissi: Mother, you know I do not believe in those superstitions. Cairittin: You will see. :: She kissed his cheek and wiped away her tears. Yiggtissi made it through the rest of his family as well as Innuoasag’s, until he came to his brother. :: Guzk: Well look at you Doctor Yiggtissi. Yiggtissi: I am glad you could be here Guzk. I did not think you would be able to attend. Guzk: There was no way I would this the birth of my only niece. :: His smile faded. :: I love you brother. :: Yiggtissi was taken aback by the show of affection from Guzk. He remembered as a child, this was the Saurian who thought it was a good idea to throw Yiggtissi head first into the deep end of a large river. Simply because he thought it was funny. As he stared at his brother, he noticed the hallway fading away into nothingness. Just as before, it was happening again. :: :: Yiggtissi stood in the vast of nothingness. The previous incident before he found himself in the labor room quickly filled his mind and it all came back to him. He felt a presence but was hesitant to turn around. His wasn’t quite sure he could stand seeing the mythical God he had seen before. Slowly turning his head, he was face to face with the glowing figure of Mellitt once again. :: Yiggtissi: Please….What is this? Mellitt: These are the points in life that you hold dearest to your heart Yiggtissi. These points in time are simply what you have allowed me to show you. I am here only to help your transition easier. Yiggtissi: I have no intention of transitioning…into whatever you think you are preparing for me. If that is your only reason for existing in…:: He waved his arms in the air.::…whatever this is, then you have wasted your time. Mellitt: Your alien friends are very assiduous in saving your life. However, time is not a luxury you have. Your physical shell is dying and if you do not prepare yourself, you will not be allowed to transition and your essence will be lost forever. :: Yiggtissi rubbed his forehead in frustration. :: Yiggtissi: I grow tired of this game. Please just….leave me alone. Let me be. Mellitt: You are preparing to show me one more vision it would seem…. :: The white room began to change into something else. Walls and various other objects began to materialize around him. He closed his eyes hoping that it would all go away, hoping each time that his next leap will be the leap home. But it would not be. :: (To Be Continued) Lieutenant (JG) Yiggtissi Medical Officer USS Gorkon G239406Y10
  21. 5 points
    Ensign Sotak - Adaptation (( Sotak’s Quarters, Deck 5, USS Atlantis )) (( ooc: this takes place after Sotak receives her physical alterations on the second day of the voyage to Lydor V )) :: After waking up in a biobed in sickbay, Sotak left sickbay’s alpha shift personnel to hurriedly return to her quarters, where she’d intended to deal with whatever reactions she had to the alterations. It was a procedure she would only do in her solitude and not in front of others. It could be that she had no big or relevant reactions, but whichever she did have she would rather deal with on her own. :: :: As she entered her room she stood a few metres from the entrance and breathed in deeply, eyes closed. That way she calmed her bodily reactions to her hurriedness and wonderings. Once she believed she was in the proper state of mind she stepped into her bathroom and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She knew how it was a strange experience for the brain to not be able to find itself after a dramatic change in appearance, and she preferred to go through that in her own company and not in sickbay full of expecting doctors and nurses. :: :: Her new skin was paler than Jann’s had been, a result of female Lydorian physiology, if their current information was to be believed. Their skin colour would be coherent with a nearby island to where they were actually beaming in to so as to appear as travellers for their own convenience. :: :: She touched the new gills on her neck while studying her webbed hands and feet. The nurses had removed her shoes before the procedure, and she had carried them to her quarters by hand when she left, since they were no longer usable. Every of these aspects was completely out of the ordinary for her, and yet she found the experience to be… incredible fascinating. It was not like she had wished to study the Lydorians all her life, obviously, but nevertheless, the opportunity to study a pre-warp species from the Freeworlds region… She did not presently wish to be anywhere else in the galaxy, or doing anything else than this. Of course, that was a limited statement based only on what she knew or cared to recall, but it was how she thought of her situation at that moment.. :: :: When she had finished familiarising herself with her new physical appearance, she sat down on her meditation mat to begin her mental preparation for the mission. As she sat there, she noticed for the first time the itching that her new skin gave her as Ensign Jann had mentioned the day before, but she ignored it completely. She had been trained since birth to control her reactions, and scratching would not help the newly applied skin and was therefore illogical, for which reason she avoided those actions wholly. :: :: She did not pretend even to herself to having achieved anything close to a Kolinahr level of control of her emotions. Doing so would be a lie, a deception, and that was the opposite to her way of life. If there was no logical reason for deceit, she would not do so. And so she knew just how far her control went. She was far from achieving Kolinahr. Decades away from it, if she allowed herself to speculate. Sotak was young, and she was aware of this. But her path to gaining that level of control began at the start, and she had already covered a portion of it. :: :: She would do what she had joined Starfleet to do. She was beginning this other path to understanding, another important aspect of her life she wished to improve upon. She would learn, she would understand, and she would add the conclusions to her memory for later expansion of cthia. And she would continue to do this until she was physically unable to, as the other extremely unlikely outcome would be to achieve full clarity of cthia, something no one had ever come close at being able to do in the known galaxy, nor was she likely to do it either. When either outcome came, she would share her accumulated knowledge with other people. :: oO Return to the present. Concentrate. Oo :: She strained her ears for any external sound she could focus on. She breathed deep before exhaling and listening to those sounds. After this she began to bring forth all she had learned while being in the science laboratory organising and making sense of the information on the Lydorians. :: :: And finally, at the end of her meditative process, she brought forth all her internal conflict accumulated in the thoughts she’d had during meditation and allowed herself to feel the conflict she did not even know how to recognise. She took a deep breath and allowed it to fill her, holding her breath before finally releasing the it along with (figuratively) all her conflict, leaving her thoughts at peace for the moment. :: :: She was ready for the mission. :: -- Ensign Sotak - Science Officer USS Atlantis, NCC-74682 A239503S10
  22. 5 points
    ((Many, many feels. Great stuff.)) ((Alien Complex, Navatria, Arndall)) Dairro: Commander, come on, they’re closing on us. Leave him ::Jarred rubbed his eyes, with added pressure and rose to his feet. Green flashes buzzed passed, cracking in the air as they flew passed him. Risking a look back, he could make clearly make out the creatures, four emerald green eyes glowing in the dim light. They let out a screech as Jarred reached for his phaser and fired a few shots towards them when he heard Dairro cry out.:: ::Looking to his side his saw his friend lay on the floor, blood oozing beneath her. He rushed over to her, continuing to fire towards the aliens. He crouched down beside her, ducking his head as he did so. From this distance the wound was obvious, a mess, as if she’d been shot by two different weapons at once. There was a dark red hole, blood pouring from it as if in slow motion, soaking into her uniform. She looked up to him their eyes locking, as he cradled her, each of them bathed in her blood. He could feel his face begin to crack as she smiled briefly, before her breathing became a noisy rattle and she began to cough, flecking Jarred’s face with blood. A split second later and she went limp in his arms. Jarred let out a roar, screaming into the walls. Green flashes continued to whizz past as he rose to his feet. He tapped at the display on his phaser, setting it to overload and flung it towards the creatures.:: ::There was a temporary pause from the creatures as they looked at the device that now lay before them. He grabbed Dairro’s phaser & set it to maximum power and began firing at the creatures, striking one of them square in the chest, causing them to flail backwards into the others.:: ::Jarred heaved the lifeless body of his friend onto his shoulders. With blurred vision he began to run. He had no idea how long he had been running when he felt the cool rush of air hit his face and squinted as the bright light stuck his eyes. Up ahead was a shuttle, the rest of his group stood waiting.:: ((Runabout)) ::He climbed up the ramp, in silence, not even acknowledging his friends and gently placed the body of Dairro on the seats that lined the interior, before collapsing to his knees.:: Mandak: ::Yelling up front.:: Boots up! Let's get outta here! ::She looked to Thoran, and began to check Dairro.:: Is she? G'Renn: Yes. ::He looked with swollen red eyes, his face a picture of grief, of loss, towards the others, & solemnly nodded his head. He felt an emptiness in his heart and a numbness pounding in his head as his gaze fell back to the floor. He was numb, yet somehow in agony. He wanted to scream, to yell, anything to bring her back. She has always been there for him, a smile shining in her bright blue eyes. Now she lay before him, gone forever. Because of him. Slowly he raised himself up, rubbing his eyes as he did so, his voice trembling as he spoke.:: Thoran: Try to raise the Blackwell. Mandak: I'll let them know we're enroute... Commander? Thoran: Update them on our… ::He flinched, his mind still trying to process what had happened. All he wanted to do was to curl up, escape from the reality. But he had a job to do. He couldn’t fall down now, that would be a disservice to his friends memory. For the moment, he had to suck it up. To be strong.:: Thoran: ...situation. Mandak: Aye... ::She moved to the comm station and took a seat.:: =/\= Blackwell, this is the Edith Keeler... Come in... =/\= Blackwell: =/\= ? =/\= Mandak: =/\=Party aboard... good to hear your voice... We've two casualties, a Valcarian and Crewman Dairro... quite a few injuries... But we're on the way to you now... Commander Thoran is still alive, and is still in charge of the element. Runabout Revan is lost. =/\= Blackwell: =/\= ? =/\= Mandak: =/\= Aye... Edith Keeler out. =/\= ::He slowly made his way towards the front of the shuttle, grasping every surface he could for support. Finally he half collapsed into one of the seats in the [...]pit. Resting his face in cupped hands, he closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. The image of Dairro lying there filling his mind, her eyes, helpless and fixated on him, her arm reaching out as she calls out to him.:: Mandak: Home is waiting sir... ::He glanced up for a moment, meeting Mandak’s gaze.:: Thoran: Yes. Yes it is Ms Mandak. ::Home. Mandak was right, the Blackwell had become his home. He felt closer to some of his colleagues than he did his own family. He recalled his recent visit back to his family on Alpha Centauri and the elation he had felt at seeing them all again. But it hadn’t felt the same. He’d missed the hum of the Blackwell. The hustle and bustle of the corridors. He’d felt guilty, when upon his return to the Blackwell, he’d felt happier than when he’d been back with his parents.:: Ferentis: ? ::He heard a faint shuffling beside him and half turning his head, finding the comforting face of G’Renn. It seemed she was always around when he needed her.:: G'Renn: ::She spoke quietly, so no one but Thoran could hear:: I am so sorry, Commander. ::He gave her a half hearted smile, a temporary veneer over his pain.:: Thoran: Thank you Anath. ::The pair fell into silence. Not an awkward, nothing to say silence. A silence between friends. A silence of reflection. Jarred spent the remainder of the trip replaying events through his mind. He could have done more. He could have brought her back with him. They could now be sat around exchanging tales and jokes. Out of the viewport he could see the form of the Blackwell, increasing in size as they got nearer. From charring on the hull, it appeared the Blackwell had been busy in their absence.:: Mandak: ? ((Shuttlebay, USS Blackwell)) ::There was a shudder as the shuttle touched down. Jarred sat for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Finally he took a deep breath and headed out of the shuttle, joining the others. As he stepped onto the flight deck, he was just in time to see the body of his friend being taken away and felt his chest tightened and his legs weaken. It took all his might and will to stop himself from collapsing to the floor.:: G’Renn: We should report in, figure out what we’ve missed. Maybe they know more than we do by now. Thoran: Computer, located Commander Whittaker. Computer: Commander Whittaker is currently located on deck eighteen in the primary sick bay. Thoran: oO Sickbay? Had he been injured when the Blackwell had suffered whatever damage caused the scorching and charring on the hull? Oo Thoran: Off to sickbay it is then. Mr Ferentis, judging by the look of the outer hull, you’re probably needed in engineering. Ms Mandak, i’d like to report to Commander Shayne on the bridge. ::He cast his eyes over the ragtag group.:: Good work everybody. G’Renn/Mandak/Ferentis: ? ::The pair bid farewell to Ferentis and Mandak before heading towards the nearest turbolift. Much like the journey in the shuttle, the turbolift was silent. Thoughts of the captain’s status and of Dairro flooded his mind. Moments later, the turbolift came to a halt, the doors opening with a swish. Jarred gestured for the G’Renn to go first, it was after all her domain they were now entering.:: ((Sickbay, USS Blackwell)) ::Reaching the sickbay, they entered, and Jarred felt relieved to find the captain on his feet and apparently well. Fleet Captain Nicholotti, two unfamiliar officers in teal along with two other people stood nearby. From the looks of the pair, they were the Valcarian and Caraadian delegations. Lying before them on one of the biobeds was, from the looks of the uniform a Valcarian soldier. The image of those Valcarian’s they had left behind flashed across his mind, and he reached into his pocket, clutching the necklace the man had worn.:: Thoran: Commander Whittaker, apologies for intruding. We were able to make it back from the surface. ::He glanced around the room.:: Has Commander Adyr and her team reported in yet? Whittaker: ? G’Renn/Drake/Mika/Nicholotti/Asil: ?
  23. 5 points
    ((Esperance, Eagle Eye Meadows)) ::Once the music started up again, Taz could hardly wait to get up from her seat. Don’t get her wrong; the ceremony was beautiful, and she was genuinely happy for Delano and Mei’konda. But it was also a lot of sitting… for someone who was as restless as her, sitting in one place for too long was torture.:: ::She raced over to the refreshments that had been set up along a narrow table near the bar. As she contemplated which treat to take — that pastry looked like it had her name on it — she felt the distinct presence of a snoop coming up behind her. She didn’t turn around as she addressed him.:: Taz: Do Vulcans like chocolate, Saavok? ::There was a loaded question.:: Saavok: It… disagrees with us. ::He said eventually.:: ::’Disagreed’ the way alcohol disagreed with most other species. His father had warned him to stay away from it.:: ::She finally turned around, a chocolate macaron cupped in her hand.:: Taz: Well, they’ve got plenty to choose from. Saavok: That is accurate. ::The little Vulcan selected some carrot sticks with hummus. Taz popped the macaron into her mouth — to the horrified look of a nearby waiter. Since her mouth was full, Taz just shot back a disdainful look, furrowing her brow.:: Taz: oO What? Oo Saavok: We are possibly expected to pace ourselves with the food. ::He replied quietly homing in on the fruit platter and wondering how much his friend had changed in the intervening years.:: ::She turned back to the younger Vulcan and nodded, swallowing the treat so she could speak again.:: Taz: This place is too fancy for me. ::Saavok looked around with an assessing air.:: Saavok: I anticipate that the intention is to provide the guests with an agreeable experience. ::Most of which was lost on the Vulcan mentality, but Saavok was growing up amongst aliens and at least understood the impulse; perhaps better than his father did. Still, Tasnim struck him as the type who was more comfortable up to the elbows in machinery than relaxing in luxury; much like her not-quite mother.:: ::As the rest of the guests finally caught up and were taking their seats at the tables, Taz looked over to the dance floor and smiled.:: Taz: So enlighten me some more, Pointy. Do Vulcans dance? ::Saavok followed her gaze.:: Saavok: Affirmative. We learn dance as a means of improving coordination and rhythm. ::He said.:: Father has explained the social aspect in many cultures. Do you dance? ::The last was added with a thoughtful look at Taz. She’d grown from an older child into a young woman, in that hasty way many shorter-lived species had. Saavok, his people evolved for a low-resource world, would take longer to mature physically. He’d befriended her following the incident with the Ronin-A, and she appeared to find his company agreeable. They did have some things in common; a will to further their understanding of the multiverse, and the lack of a counterpart in each other’s universes.:: Taz: Actually… I never really learned. ::A sad look emerged now on her face as she scanned across the room, taking note of all the happy faces. Back in her universe, such occasions of joy were few and far between. And certainly there hadn’t been much dancing aboard the Ronin or any other stop she and her mother had found along their journey.:: Saavok: Would you… like to dance? ::None of the usual, emotionally-neutral words Vulcans used seemed to fit the request. No doubt his dad would twist the language in order to find some other way to say that; Saavok didn’t bother.:: ::She turned her head back to the Vulcan. There was such purity in his questions and perspective. Trademark Vulcan curiosity and yet without the curt arrogance that often times accompanied it.:: Taz: I’d like that very much. ::Saavok could see no reason why she should not.:: Saavok: Then I shall endeavour to facilitate. ::Tasnim wiped her hand on the tablecloth, leaving a slight smudge of chocolate, before grabbing onto Saavok’s hand, startling him.:: Taz: So you’re going to teach me? Saavok: Affirmative. ::He nodded carefully.:: Taz: All right, then I’ll follow your lead. ::It was a discombobulating reversal of the usual dynamics of their friendship, and for a moment Saavok retreated into the comfort of Vulcan reticence.:: Saavok: Understood. ::They stepped out onto the modest dance floor, the only ones thus far, and Taz placed her arms on Saavok’s shoulders, her hands interlocked behind his neck. The music soon began again, and perhaps noting the new occupants of the floor, a slower ballad was chosen.:: Taz: All right, what do we do? ::He was accustomed to being taught, not to teaching others, and Saavok had to resist the urge to simply data-dump from his mind to hers, walls up against the touch of her fingers against his neck that gave him a telepathic pathway. Taz presumably had some telepathic abilities given her father was Betazoid, but they’d never communicated that way. He could feel what his father referred to in Standard as the ‘carrier wave’, the present of Taz’s mind.:: Saavok: The basic premise is to move in time with the music’s rhythm, and all movements are based on the footfall. ::He began to demonstrate, stepping from one foot to the other in time with the music, a simple side-to-side motion, facilitated by the slow music.:: ::She tried her best to follow, stumbling a bit in the rhythm. Saavok on the other hand seemed a natural, and Taz was surprised at the ease with which the boy had slipped into the music.:: Taz: ::looking down at her feet:: Okay, I think I’ve got this... Saavok: An additional displacement step is customary, such that if all participants utilise the same system, they collectively progress around the arena in an aesthetic manner. ::Vulcans didn’t go in for partner dancing much; the step that he demonstrated was apparently Betazoid in origin, but not dissimilar to a waltz step.:: Saavok: All further movements are based on the rhythmic step. ::He explained, as others moved around them.:: ::She was still looking down at their feet, counting beats in her head as she tried matching to his footsteps.:: Taz: That’s it? How do we know which way to go to move around? ::What other steps? There were many. But the key thing about teaching someone to dance, was that you did it quietly somewhere where you could stop and start the music to explain and demonstrate and try things out; not in the middle of the dance floor. They could just maintain the basic step, no one would fault them for that, but was was boring. Feeling decidedly cheeky, Saavok gave a mental smile.:: Saavok: ~~ Like this. ~~ ::Taz got a speed-of-thought warning of what to do, before Saavok pushed her out into a move that spun her around, pulled her back for a duck and pass, and curled her in again along his other arm.:: Taz: Oh my goodness! ::She had to take a second to catch her breath as she grabbed onto his shoulder as if she were about to fall off a cliff.:: Taz: Where did you learn *that*? Saavok: Watching holovision. ::He said honestly.:: ::She looked at him nervously but his confidence helped reassure her. She took another breath and relaxed her grip on him and stood a little straighter.:: Taz: Okay, let’s give it another go. Saavok: As you wish. ::This time, they did a few more steps before she felt one hand of his guide her to move along a new path as another hand of his gently pressed against her back. A few more attempts followed before she found herself smiling with the new familiarity. After she spun around one last time, she returned back to their starting position, arms resting again on his shoulders.:: Taz: You’re a good teacher. ::He tried to be so, not having a lot of experience in teaching.:: Saavok: It is advantageous to have an apt student. ::She laughed as the pair continued to move to the music, other guests now making their way to the dance floor to join the young pair.:: Taz: Uh-huh, I bet you say that to all your dance partners. Saavok: I have not previously had ‘dance partners’. ::He revealed.:: The experience is agreeable. ::She grinned.:: Taz: Well, then I think you’ll just need to come back and visit to give me lesson number 2. ::The invitation was particularly welcome. Somehow, he’d find a way to do so.:: Saavok: I would not object to that. End --- Tasnim “Taz” Shandres Engineering Trainee, USS Veritas I238705TZ0 & Saavok Vulcan Child R238802S10
  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
    ((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
  38. 4 points
    I jut had to share this sim. I roped one of lieutenant Dermont’s PNPCs into what I thought was going to be a chance for some exposition of my background but he completely blew me away by making a scene that’s both funny and touching while also giving the reader SO much more insight into both of our characters! ________________________________________ USS Atlantis, Sickbay - Deck 5)) ::As the most junior doctor on the staff currently, Toh'jak had been given the short straw and assigned the third shift. It was no matter to the Klingon. He was currently bend over his pad, tweaking a ballad he had been attempting to write. He enjoyed singing during his morning exercise routine, he thought he would give it a try to create one himself. He was so engrossed with it, whispering the words under his breath as he went that did not even notice the doors to sickbay open.:: Termine: :: trying to catch the other Ensign’s attention without seeming rude or impatient, though he was definitely one of the two:: Uh… Ensign Toh’Jak. I need medical assistance. ::Glancing up quickly, he stood even as he flipped the PADD face down. His eyes did a quick glance to the ensign before him holding one hand within the other. He recognized the man as the one who had welcomed him on his first day. What was his name? Ah, right.:: Toh’jak: Ensign Termine, what is the matter at this time of night? Termine: Uh… Just a cut on my hand, that’s all. ::The Klingon grinned at the comment as Dante revealed the deep laceration. It was clear that is was not a simple cut. They need to stop the bleeding and knit the muscle quickly.:: Toh’jak: Ah, your "just a cut" is bleeding onto the floor and you will be lucky retain full function of that hand. Termine: I thought doctors were supposed to say things like “That doesn’t look too bad” or things like that. ::His grin grew even wider until it was all teeth.:: Toh’jak: Bah! You have clearly never been to a Klingon hospital. Termine: well, that’s fair. ::He indicated that Dante should sit on the edge of the closest bio-bed and as he did so, Toh'jak rolled his cart of instruments to his side.:: Toh’jak: So how did you manage such a severe wound? Working on some Federation tech, no doubt. Termine: I’d… prefer not to say Doctor, my injury is… a personal matter. Toh’jak: Ah! Well I have had several "personal matters" that have ended in injury. Though I was under the impression the Federation does not like us to settle our issues in such a manner... :: The two sat in silence for a moment while the doctor began his work, blue light shone over Dante’s red wounds and he felt the dermal stimulator begin it’s work with a tingle. Whether it was Dante’s distaste of silence between people, or the calming feeling of being taken care of, Dante soon found himself speaking again.:: Termins: Are… Are you close with your father Toh’Jak? I know Klingon houses are patrilineal, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about Klingon parenting. ::The question man Toh'jak freeze right in the middle of his work. He glared at the human for a bit. His father? The klingon gave another smile to Dante, but this time it was not in mirth. Bitterness was the closest word that might describe it.:: Toh’jak: Klingon fathers try to teach honor above all. But just as humans, we do no always see eye to eye with our parents. Why? Are you not close with yours? Termine: My father? Well… close wouldn’t be the right word. I spent my whole childhood with him, even being homeschooled, but I’d never say we were close. He… my father.. lets just say he has a strong personality. ::According to humans, almost all Klingons seem to have something of a strong personality, so that description was not much to go on.:: Toh’jak: Indeed? So among your kind he was a leader? Termine: My father is a renown opera singer, so I spend my childhood on tour with him. He’s been incredibly successful and attributes it all to expecting perfection from his cast and crew. It makes for fantastic performances, but a not-so-happy home life. Actors, at the end of the day, get to go home. Children don’t. ::Toh'jak eyes glittered a little at hearing about his father's career. Music was a noble pursuit. Some of the greatest heroes in Klingon lore were warrior bards. And while many would focus only the warrior half, much of their history would have been lost if not for the bard half. A song has power and life. The doctor nodded. Such a man would indeed have great weight upon his shoulders.:: Toh’jak: The path of the bard is a noble one, but a difficult one. I imagine that he took pride in make sure everything was perfect during a performance. The burden off-stage...a heavy load. Termine: Perfection… Perfection was the sword that always hung above my head growing up. Everything I did, everything I was had to be perfect in my father’s eyes, or I was nothing. I was to be his protege, the continuation of his legacy you see. He started training me vocally from before I could stand. The goal was that when he got too old to sing, he would manage me, so he’d never truly have to stop being… well, himself really. ::The wound was almost healed. He turned the dermal regenerator down to the lowest setting and slowly start knitting the skin back together. There would barely be a pink patch when he was through.:: Toh’jak: While there is a great honor to follow on your father's path, a child's destiny is their own. A confident man can accept that, knowing that his deeds will stand on their own. Given your present location, you clearly chose a different career. Was he accepting? Termine: Well… He didn’t actually agree to me joining starfleet. I ran away if you can believe it. I bribed a Ferengi cargo merchant to take me to San Fransisco when we were on tour on Vulcan. It was to be my debut performance, Don Giovanni, in the great stone amphitheater of T’herat. But I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want that life but I was too afraid to tell him, too afraid to… disappoint him I guess.. but I never wanted to be a singer, or to have him control my life. I wanted to be an officer Toh’jak. I wanted to be here, making the universe a better place. oO I have met the human that mirrors my own life... Oo ::Toh'jak himself had left the Empire against the express wished of his father. He tired of watching warrior after warrior die in battle when they could have been saved by Federation medical technology. And the Federation was willing to share, but the oh so proud Empire disagree. His father had screamed at him as he left..."If it is a warrior's time, then it is his time!" But what if his time could be in another five years? Why not allow the warrior another dozen years of battle?:: ::So Toh'jak left after six years of service as a doctor onboard a battlecruiser and applied for Starfleet. His father has already been disappointed he had chosen the medical field, despite Toh'jak still being no doubt a fine warrior. But when he had left for the Academy? "For this dishonor, there is no atonement...":: Toh’jak: You did what was right for you! Follow your path, Termine! No man chooses for you. But how does this story give you such a gash? Termine: My cut? ::Dante had forgotten all about the pain in his hand as he had spoke:: oh… well…I guess he does have something to do with the cut. I got a letter today, from him. He has somehow tracked me down, through some of his friends who just to happen to be starfleet admirals. They told him which ship I’m on and, since we just HAPPEN to be in the same quadrant, he’s insisting that he comes for a visit. Toh’jak: And this led to anger? And a cut, somehow? Termine: I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but I cut myself when I smashed my own glass desk with my hand… although I guess if anyone could relate it would be a klingon, huh? Toh’jak: We generally try to inflict injury on the target of our wrath, but indeed. I can relate. ::He turned off his tools and pushed the cart away. Toh'jak grabbed Dante's hands and gave it a few squeezes to see if the young man cried out. After he did not, the doctor gave a nod. Toh'jak: All healed now, Ensign Termine. And I have learned much about you today. I too have a stubborn old man for a father. I wish you luck in the conflict that is no doubt soon to happen. Termine: Uh… thank’s doctor. For lending an ear and a derma regenerator. I just hope neither I nor my father end up back here, although I’m sure you’d be just as understanding of something like that as well, wouldn’t you? ::Toh'jak just gave another toothy smile to Termine as the ops officer stood and made his way to the door. Just as the doors opened, the Klingon called out.:: Toh'jak: Termine! If your father is determine to challenge you on this, suggest to him you settle it the Klingon way! As your crewmate, I would be honored to be your second for that... ::As the other man disappeared, Toh'jak just chuckled to himself. His voice had made the comment sound like a light jest, but with a Klingon one never really knew.:: END ============= Ensign Toh'jak of House Suhtaek Medical Officer USS Atlantis stubbornly simmed by: Lieutenant JG Valin Dermont Engineering USS Atlantis A239410VD0
  39. 4 points
    I always love it when @Randal Shayne is left in charge ----------------- ((Bridge, USS Blackwell)) Whittaker: ::he looked to Shayne and spoke directly.:: Report. ::Shayne felt himself shift out of the role of commander, and into the mindset of a first officer, both relishing the relief that Whittaker’s presence afforded, and trying not to concentrate too admimently on the sudden drop in exhilaration and adrenaline. He hoped his decision to bring Whittaker back to the bridge had not interrupted anything the captain had been doing below, but Merzan’s request, the Klingon ships’ sudden movement toward the anomaly, and the other equally dangerous or problematic features of their situation left Shayne feeling as though no other choice were possible. Some part of him chafed at his cowardice- running for daddy as soon as matters got even slightly over his head. Nevertheless, Whittaker was one of the most competent officer’s he’d ever had the pleasure of working with. If anyone could take care of this, it was him. Succinctly, Shayne broke down there current dilemma.:: Shayne: Commander Walker is preparing to test a solution- I don’t pretend to understand it, but it has something to do with beaming down to the surface and attempting to rescue our people. It’s dangerous, so I figured I’d best get your approval on it. They’re on their way to the transporter room now. ::His mind raced, trying to remember that Whittaker had just arrived, and had not been party to the events of the recent past. What else was important?:: Shayne: The gik’tal has begun to move toward the rift- I’ve got Commander Ezo warning them off. Additionally, Mr. Ramirez reports that the anomaly will be closing again soon, in a matter of three hours or less. However, he believes that focusing anti-particles in to the midst of the rift might stave off that closure for a time. And, intriguingly, Commander Merzan has requested to join Walker on her escapade to the surface. ::His words, especially to an outsider who had not witnessed the exchange, sounded somewhat absurd, and so Shayne did not blame Whittaker for consulting with Jolara. It was at that moment that Shayne realized that he should have done just that. She was the counselor, after all, trained to read emotions and detect falsehoods as a secondary but important side effect of her main work. Whittaker hadn’t been on the bridge ten seconds, and already he was making Shayne feel foolish just by implementing sensible behavior. Whittaker: ::to Jolara:: Do you have any reason to suspect Merzan's motives? Jolara: ? ::Shayne’s own confidence in Merzan, and his own determination to not look like an impotent knob, had likely influenced his decision to not consult any of his other officers. He vowed to learn from his error, while still maintaining confidence in Merzan’s sincerity. He had not met a Klingon yet that lied, and he refused to believe that his first encounter with one would be with a Defense Force starship captain. Nagging doubts lingered, of course, but from what he’d seen of Merzan, and Walker, if anything poor were to happen on their little voyage, he felt it unlikely that it would stem from a betrayal on Merzan’s part.:: Whittaker: Alright. Mr. Shayne- give Commander Walker to go ahead to traverse the rift then take Ensign Ramirez, Lieutenant Mandak and Lieutenant James to deflector control to implement the ensign's idea to delay the decay of the rift. ::Shayne gave a swift nod.:: Shayne: Aye, sir. ::The first order of business was communicating Whittaker’s command to Walker, ostensibly in the transporter room at this point.:: Shayne: =/\= Shayne to Walker. The light is green. You may proceed. =/\= Walker: =/\= Will do Commander. We’ll be back soon. =/\= ::He had faith that Walker’s statement was true, but he couldn’t help but pray all the same. He liked this pink-haired commander, and though he regretted the loss of any Starfleet officer most deeply, it would likely be ever so slightly more painful if Walker were to not return. She had such a spark of life, and a love for the same. And, of course, a pregnant wife complicated the mix greatly. Suddenly, he wondered if he should request to take Walker’s place. Shayne was fairly confident that he could handle Merzan’s brusque brutality. But he certainly didn’t have the technical abilities, despite his status as Operations Officer. This was only proven by the fact that he still did not comprehend entirely her plan.:: ::They all had their assigned duties. His were waiting for him in Deflector Control.:: Shayne: On me, folks. ::Shayne made for the turbolift, and could hear the subtle scuffling as the other three individuals moved to follow him.:: Whittaker: Lieutenant Drass, keep monitoring the situation from up here. Ensign Leath, start scanning for anything that might give us a clue as to who is responsible for the creation of this rift. ::From the beginning, the readings had been strangely… formulaic. Orderly, in a way. The idea that it was an artificial creation had lingered in Shayne’s mind throughout this affair. Whittaker’s words now seemed to confirm that perspective. Whatever they’d found, he hoped it would cast more light on their problems.:: Drass/Leath: ? Mandak: And here we go... ::The turbolift doors shut before him, and the quartet plummeted into the bowels of the Blackwell. :: ((Deflector Control, USS Blackwell)) ::Shayne hated the Blackwell’s bridge, mostly because it was a preposterously small affair, deeply insufficient for the volume of people needed within it. When he’d served aboard the Apollo-A with Nicholotti, he’d be astonished by the sheer size of the Odyssey class control center. A transporter room in the back?! Multi-tiered seating? It looked more like a conference room. In his career, he’s luxuriated in the unnecessarily spacious, and groaned in the unreasonably cramped. Now, as he beheld Deflector Control, and how it was not too much smaller than the bridge he’d just exited, he finally resolved to talk to Whittaker at their next refit stop. Perhaps they might be able to scrounge up a larger bridge module for the Blackwell. It was worth a shot, anyway. He put those thoughts aside as Mandak spoke.:: Mandak: So... What now? ::Once again, he was entering a situation that demanded everything but his expertise, or so it felt. He thought himself rather fluent in engineer-speak, but Walker’s plan, and now Ramirez’s idea, eluded his grasp.:: ::Fortunately for the second officer, help was not long in coming.:: Ramirez: Uhmm… Lt. James, you are an engineer, right? ::A good question. He was aware that James was Walker’s wife, but beyond that (and a fleeting understanding of her skill set) Shayne knew virtually nothing about the pregnant officer.:: James: Yes. That’s right. Ramirez: Good. What I need from you is to configure the Deflector to produce the chroniton anti-particles. :: tapping on a PADD, and passing it to James :: These are the characteristics of the anti-particles we need to produce. Do you think it is possible? ::Shayne raised an eyebrow. The newcomer was already taking charge, and from the sounds of it, most competently.:: James: It is possible. Ramirez: Thank you. Please, let me know when the modifications are complete. I will give you then the information about the energy output and how narrow the beam must be. ::The ensign then turned to the newly promoted Mandak, and… did Shayne catch a whiff of affection? Or infatuation? Either way, the brief look on Ramirez’s face vanished within an instant of its appearance, and business was once again on the forefront of his mind.:: Ramirez: :: clearing his throat :: Lt. Mandak, Can you provide the exact location of the outer and inner rims of the anomaly, please? ::The request was simple, but satisfying it would likely be time consuming. Unlike what Shayne had come to expect from anomalies in his travels, this one stayed fairly consistent in size- another factor leading him to personally believe that it was created by mortal instruments, not by the random authority of chance.:: Mandak: ? Ramirez: Please, patch that information to my console once your calculations are complete… Mandak:? ::There was a controlled excitement in Ramirez’s slightly accented voice, and Shayne almost wanted to share in it. Their newest science officer was clearly looking forward to seeing what would result of his idea, and beyond that, Shayne knew that many science officers held the thrill of discovery above almost everything else. Casually, he looked at Ramirez, who promptly noted the intrusion.:: Shayne: You’re looking pleased. Anything I can do to help? ::Just like Merzan, Shayne despised sitting idle. When others around him were working, thas resentment morphed into an intolerable burden. He actually wanted an ensign to give him instructions- anything to be a part of the team.:: Ramirez: Sorry, sir. :: clearing his throat again :: Hmmm… Can you monitor the anomaly and keep an eye on the rift’s chroniton density, please? :: providing a PADD :: Here you will find instructions about how to do it, sir. Please, that that station :: pointing the a place close to Mandak's :: ::Shayne now raised both eyebrows. Most cadets or brand new ensigns demurred from taking command of any situation if offered the opportunity, and those that didn’t often had an inflated opinion of themselves and their abilities. But Ramirez was proving to be a most pleasant surprise. What a remarkable display of competence.:: Shayne: Aye, ensign. Mandak: ? ::After a short time, during which Shayne was just beginning to wrap his mind around his assigned task, James spoke up.:: James: The modifications are done, Ensign. Ramirez: Response ::There was no doubting the concern in James’ voice as she replied. Indeed, Shayne shared some of that apprehension.:: James: ::as casually as she could manage:: And you’re positive this will work ::The doubt was still present, but Ramirez’s confidence gave Shayne the courage to put some faith into their work.:: Ramirez/ Mandak: ? Shayne: From what little I understand, it’s got a good chance. James: Okay… Ready when you are. ::Shayne consulted his instruments.:: Shayne: Ensign, chroniton density is dropping, slowly but surely. We’ve got to hurry. Ramirez/ Mandak/James: ? ::As the process began, Shayne’s panel lit up with a warning he didn’t immediately recognize. After a moment, though, it came to him.:: Shayne: We’re firing an antiproton beam directly into the center of the anomaly. ::He squinted and looked closer.:: Shayne: Some strange readings over here… Ramirez/ Mandak/James: ? Tag/TBC… Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Ops Officer/ Second Officer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0
  40. 4 points
    ((Genkos Sim's Quarters, Deck 8. USS Gorkon)) :: Returning back to his quarters from his busy day carrying out medical exams, Genkos plopped his cane into the rack he'd had made specially before plopping himself down on the bed. As much as he fancied sleep, he thought he had better check his messages. Shifting himself over to the monitor, he tapped at a few buttons. There were a couple of messages, one about how the Rangers were going to be folded into the rest of the crew, another about the shift patterns in sick bay, and the last one was from somebody called Tillul Sim.:: oO Dad! Oo ::Reading the message it was an incredibly formal enquiry into Genkos' health and time aboard the Gorkon. Genkos smiled - his father was incredibly personable in real life, but on paper (or PADD) he wrote in an oddly staccato manner. He thought about writing an equally staccato response - mum would like that - but checked the time. He had ages until his next appointment - the CMO had postponed their appointment, so he had the rest of the day off. :: oO Do you know what, I'm going to call them! Oo Genkos: =/\= Computer, connect me to the house of Tillul and Laxe Sim, on Betazed. Put it on my monitor. =/\= :: After a brief pause, his monitor flashed and the friendly face of his father appeared. :: Tillul: Genkos! What a pleasant surprise! Genkos: Well I have some time, thought I'd give you all a call. Tillul: You're looking well, wait until your mother sees you! ::calling off:: LAXE! GENKOS IS CALLING! ::Just off-screen, Genkos could hear his mother's faint response.:: Laxe: What? Tillul: Just a second son. ::Tillul stood up and walked off-screen, leaving Genkos to mull over his decision - he'd not really spoken to them since joining the Gorkon. Did he give them the abridged version, or the warts-and-all tale that might not paint himself in the best light. But before he could make a decision, his father returned, this time with his mother. Tillul was a tall thin man, much like Genkos, but with white hair and a face line from smiling and laughing so much. Laxe was a little fuller, but not what one would call fat, and was a little sterner of temper. Not much, but still. :: Laxe: Hello my boy. Don't you look well? They feed you well on that spaceship? Genkos: They do mum, I'm getting my three square meals. Laxe: But you do get to eat non-replicated food sometimes right? Tillul: Laxe, replication is just as safe and nutritious as grown food. Laxe: I'm not so sure. ::Genkos smirked. Some things never change. :: Genkos: So, how are things with you? Tillul: With us? We're just the same as the day you left for your ship. Nothing's changed here. Laxe: But what about you? What's jetting around space like? Genkos: Pretty exciting. I - ::Without meaning to, Genkos gave them a complete history of the his time aboard the Gorkon. Starting with the tail end of the rescue aboard Starbase 173, the construction of Tasha MacFarlane's arm, shore leave aboard the Cloud Skipper, and then a detailed retelling of his time at the Sikuna colony, from his first encounter with the Governor, to his harsh words to Dhisuia and the beating she received because of it, and finally telling them all about the fight for her life that followed. His parents laughed and cried along with him - feeling immense pride when he detailed just how he designed and attached the Ensign's new arm, feeling appalled at his harsh words to the Romulan, expressing anxiety as Genkos described his and Commander Vess' struggle to keep Dhisuia alive. At the end of it all, Genkos was an emotional wreck.:: Tillul: Son, I cannot pretend to be proud of what you said to that Romulan. But - and I'm sure your mother agrees with me here - you did everything to atone for your words. Laxe: Actions speak louder than words Genkos. And you saved that woman's life. You kept your oath and kept her alive. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Genkos: But she might never have been in that position if not for me. Tillul: That's a mighty leap of logic son. A Vulcan would scold you for that. What's to say that she, or somebody else, wasn't going to get beaten bloody that day? Tempers were running high. Laxe: It was inevitable. Genkos: Thanks guys. I miss you. Laxe: We miss you too. Maybe next time, convince your CO to have shore leave here. Genkos: Maybe I will, maybe I will. Laxe: We love you son. Genkos: I love you. Tillul: We'll have to love you and leave you though - we're going for dinner at the Costanz's and I'm not ready. Mentally or physically. Genkos: ::laughing:: Have a great time. :: And with that they were gone...:: Ensign Genkos Sim MD Medical Officer USS Gorkon G239502GS0
  41. 4 points
    (( Clinic, Sikuna Colony )) A. Sevo: PUSH! Theletha: NNYAARGH! A. Sevo: You’re at 10 cm. Push again! Theletha: I AM PUSHING, YOU SPOTTED VERUUL!! A. Sevo: oO She’s doing quite well, I think. Oo (( Flashback - ~200 years ago - Illuna Hospital, Leran Manev, Trill )) Doctor: PUSH! Lizara: I AM PUSHING! :: Lizara was laid back in the birthing chair, trying desperately to get the little parasite out of her. Her whole body was sweating; the ionic imbalance in her skin caused by her hormones and the profusion of sweat was causing Lizara’s many dynamic tattoos to switch on-and-off repeatedly, or simply misfire. Thus, parts of her exposed skin were a kaleidoscope of moving patterns and colors. Her makeup was washing off due to the sweat, making her look like a Dead’s Week reveler. Her vibrant purple hair was horribly unkempt and matted to her skin, falling in strands across her face. :: Doctor: You’re fully dilated at 4cm. Lizara: This isn’t a date, doc. Stop staring and get him out! Doctor: *chuckling* Another couple of pushes, Lizara. You’re doing great. Lizara: HNNGH! Doctor: Again, Sevo! Push! I already see the head. Push! Lizara: YOU WANT TO TRY IT?! :: The doctor calmly ignored the snap, no doubt hearing much worse over his career. :: Doctor: I’ve got him! :: Lizara slammed her head back on the chair, thoroughly exhausted. It had been the longest twelve weeks of her life. But she still had close to a year of incubation to go through. She kept telling herself that the child would be the love of her life, but right now he was just being a pain in the...well...being a pain, anyway. :: :: The doctor quickly measured the infant. :: Doctor: 2.75 cm.; completely normal. I’ll cut the cord, clean him up and then we can get him in your pouch. Nurse, can you prepare her? :: Arguably, pouch incubation was the phase most parents looked forward to the most, as the baby was instantly accessible for all the wooing in the world. The pouch was filled with a clear, viscous, nutritious liquid that the fetus would breath & ingest for close to a year, as well as act as an infection filter. Both males and females were capable of incubation. The pouch naturally started to “unseal” during pregnancy for females. For males it was a little more complicated. Sometimes the anticipation of being a father was enough to cause a hormonal change to open their pouch; other times it required medical intervention to unseal it. In Lizara’s case, she was pretty much ready to go. :: :: The doctor soon returned and he first placed the tiny child on Lizara’s chest, letting her feel him. He was barely formed; eyes still closed, no hair yet, his skin translucent. Not even his spots had formed yet. As the doctor placed the fetus on Lizara, she couldn’t help but cry. :: Lizara: He’s adorable! So tiny! Doctor: You’ve still got several months of incubation to go through, remember. He can come out for brief periods, but needs to spend at least 90% of his time in your pouch. The first three months, at minimum, he shouldn’t come out at all. He can’t breathe very well yet. Lizara: I understand. :: She said, gently stroking the incredibly small living thing. :: Doctor: There is no father, correct? :: He said, gently picking up the fetus and handing it to the pouch nurse. :: Lizara: ...No. oO It was a one-night stand. Oo Doctor: Then we won’t have to discuss pouch-sharing. After three months or so, he may start to pop his head out and take a look around. Lizara: Maternity clothes, here I come… :: The pouch needed air circulation; not to mention the fetus’ penchant for popping up unannounced. Standard Trill maternity clothes were basically midriffs, exposing the belly for the entire incubation period. Some styles were more like oversized shirts or dresses with just the belly section cut out, or alternatively, a mesh covering the belly for more modesty but still allowing airflow. An entire subsection in the fashion industry revolved around maternity styles. :: Doctor: I’m sure it won’t bother you in the least, Sevo. :: He patted Lizara’s tattooed belly. :: Now, have you thought of a name for him? Lizara: Ajul. His name is Ajul. (( Present Time - Clinic, Sikuna Colony )) Theletha: AAARGH! :: The time had come. The baby wasn’t going to wait. Governor Khaveid had smartly fled the scene on the pretense of finding the supplies. To her surprise, Eerie decided to remain and try to comfort the soon-to-be-mother. Apparently he had helped deliver babies before. Wonders never cease. :: :: In the case of Ayiana, she had only her Starfleet Emergency Medical Course training to fall back on; which included a very smooth and orderly holographic human birth. She also had the experience of several births of her former hosts, but Trill pregnancies were quite smooth compared to most trillioids. Plus, those were a *long* time ago and in different lives. :: :: To say she was nervous was an understatement. She was sweating almost as much as Theletha. Fortunately, Ayiana’s head was buried under the blanket they placed over Theletha’s legs, so no one had to see exactly how nervous she was. She had her tricorder open, both scanning Theletha and having the procedure for a Romulan childbirth open for her to refer to. :: :: Yes, Ayiana was reading the manual. :: A. Sevo: oO This is a lot more difficult than I remember my pregnancies being! Oo A. Sevo: C’mon, Theletha! He’s halfway out! Eerie, how’s she doing up there? Eerie: Response A. Sevo: Did you manage to find a laser scalpel and blanket? Eerie: Response (( Flashback - ~100 Years Ago - Yasari Hospital, Palmyra, Trill )) :: Vereesa gently caressed the tiny newborn girl; not yet big enough to even fill her palm. Her normally librarian-esque brown hair was falling apart. Her glasses were dripping with sweat at the end of her nose. She was sweating slightly, though the whole process was much easier than Vereesa had expected. Much to her husband, Corvan’s, relief; as well as his hand Vereesa had been grasping throughout the ordeal. :: :: That only left the other one to get out. :: Doctor: Another push, Vereesa! She’s almost out! :: With practiced calm and efficiency, one of the assisting nurses gently took the first baby from Vereesa, knowing full well that she will no doubt squeeze the fragile thing into oblivion trying to get it’s sister out. :: Doctor: One more should do it. :: The doctor was way too calm. Perhaps *she* should give childbirth a try sometime! :: Vereesa: HHHNGH! Corvan: NNNGH! Doctor: Got her! Nurse, laser scalpel, please. :: Vereesa breathed a sigh of relief as the doctor finished with her second baby. Once cleaned up, the twin girls were given to their parents to hold for a few minutes. Corvan held the older one, whilst Vereesa clutched the newest one, staring lovingly into it’s barely-formed face. :: Vereesa: They’re so tiny… Doctor: Twins sometimes are. You’ve got twelve weeks to grow twice the mass. This also means they’ll have to be pouch-incubated for at least a year. Vereesa: A year?! That’s going to be exhausting. Doctor: At least you can share the load, so to speak. If you plan on pouch-sharing with your husband- :: she gestured to Corvan. :: -then I would recommend keeping them together. Both are in you, or him. It is healthy for their psychological development later in life if they remain together during their gestation. Vereesa: I understand. :: The nurses each took a baby and placed them into Vereesa’s waiting pouch, one after the other. It had already started oozing small amounts of amniotic fluid, which the nurses deftly wiped clean. Doctor: Nurse, please prepare Corvan’s pouch. :: Unfortunately, Corvan’s pouch had not opened in anticipation of fatherhood. That meant he had to undergo a quick surgery to open it up, and medicines given to him to jump-start his hormones and fluid creation. Fortunately, it only took a few minutes, and the nurses were able to open up his pouch on a side table in the room. :: Doctor: Well, that went quite smooth, for twins. Vereesa: Easy for you to say. :: She sipped on a glass of much-needed water while the other nurse gently dabbed Vereesa down with a clean towel. :: Doctor: Have you two chosen names? :: She looked at Corvan, who smiled back at his beautiful wife. :: Vereesa: Niara- :: pointing to the older girl : -and Ezal. :: pointing to the younger one. :: (( Present Time - Clinic, Sikuna Colony )) A. Sevo: A couple more pushes, Theletha, and she’ll be out. :: The Romulan woman didn’t have to be told twice. With two great groans, the baby slid out and into Ayiana’s waiting hands. She thought feeling the slimy, wet infant would be messy and disgusting, but holding it in her hands was oddly...serene. :: A. Sevo: I’ve got her! She’s beautiful. :: Ayiana lightly smacked the baby to induce breathing. She coughed a couple of times, then her tiny lungs took over, breathing on their own. :: A. Sevo: Eerie, laser scalpel please. Eerie: Response :: Ayiana cut the umbilical cord, then gently wiped down the baby. She had thin wisps of hair on her head, and her ears were just pointed enough to clearly tell her ancestry. Ayiana “finished up” underneath, then gently crawled out from under the blanket and, carefully holding the child in her arms, walked over to the head of the table. :: A. Sevo: Your daughter, Theletha. :: She was hesitant to hand over the baby cradled in her arms. Was she really smaller than this when she was born? It was hard to imagine the potential such a tiny little life would hold. As much as she loved holding it, Ayiana begrudgingly handed the newborn over to Theletha’s waiting arms. :: Theletha: Th-thank you! Eerie/Khaveid/Vrovek: Response A. Sevo: Have you thought of a name? Theletha/Vrovek: Response Eerie/Khaveid: Response A. Sevo: oO Maybe the little devils aren’t so bad after all. Oo ---------------------------- Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo First Officer U.S.S. Gorkon Image Collective Co-Facilitator Wiki Ops Training Team V239109AS0 ---------------------------
  42. 4 points
    “Alexander Brodie: Prologue” ((Observation Lounge, Starbase 118)) ::Alex sat back in quiet corner he had found reading though his orientation notes. Four years of work and study saw him, a man in his late forties with definitely more white than brown left in his hair, sat waiting to take his final cadet commissioning exam – and he was nervous.:: ::He shouldn’t be, he’d led a pretty life up until this point. He’d studied hard, he’d worked for years in a mixture of academia and in the public sector. He’d seen the very best in humanity and the very worst. He’d been married, helped raise a child, got divorced. Therefore, there was no reason that he should be nervous.:: ::But he was.:: ::He knew what it represented, beyond it all, when the uniform and insignia, the ships and space travel were all paired back. He knew that this was what he needed to do and it was that need that was gnawing away at him and the knowledge that the best laid plans would be made or broken by the upcoming assessment.:: ::He glanced up at the room, it was early but a station like this was never really quiet. Shifts were always changing, people arriving and departing the station. They called it the observation lounge because of its view out over the stars but to him the most important action was going on inside the station. ::He turned back to the PADD and flicked his finger across it to the next screen. He leant back and scratched his beard as he addressed his reflection in the black mirror of the device.:: Brodie: Are you sure you want to do this? ::He thought for a moment and smiled, replying in his strong native Scottish accent.:: Brodie: No…but it’s a bit late to back out now. ::Standing:: I guess I should make a start... ::Alexander Brodie picked up his bag from beside the seat he was in and placed the PADD inside. He stood, and then began the walk to his destination.
  43. 4 points
    (OOC: Given the traumatic events of the most recent mission, and Raven's turmoil expressed during his counselling session, I found this sim particularly powerful.) ((Holodeck 1 - Deck 11 - USS Constitution-B)) Young: ::Thinking out loud:: Right... How does this thing work then? ::Raven tapped the panel and it sprang to life. A scrolling list of the most used public programs displayed on the screen. Among the listed programs Raven noticed an old Irish drinking tavern, several hand to hand combat simulators and even suborbital skydiving.:: Young: oO Holodecks really are for maniacs! Oo ::Raven moved away from the panel and crept deeper into the large space of the Hologrid. There really was nothing to fear. No monsters intent on ripping him open and no evil consciousness hiding in the computer. Well, not anymore.:: Young: C-Computer, confirm that the Holodeck safeties are engaged? Computer: Confirmed. Holodeck safeties are online. ::He let his shoulders slump, not realizing how rigid he had been holding himself. He stood there for a time. What should he have the Holodeck generate for him? He thought back to his first moments aboard the Constitution several months before when he'd first entered this very Hologrid, eager to report directly to the Captain. Raven had babbled on to her about his transfer and called her Ma'am. She had really taken him off guard. Granted, she insisted that Raven call her Jalana, not to mention she was dressed up as a red-eyed King, crown beard and all. Raven, who had been assigned a Robin Hood-like outfit was thrust right into the action and along with Choi Ji-Hu, Doc Foster and Lieutenant Commander T'Seva who were all equally as strangely clad.:: ::Raven had no intentions of putting himself back into that particular scenario. He really had hit the ground running as soon as he arrived on the Conny and it felt like he hadn't stopped. His thoughts drifted back to the last mission. He needed to put those thoughts behind him so he could try to find a way to move on with his life. Swallowing the massive bubble of fear that threatened to swallow him whole, Raven spoke to the computer.:: Young: Computer... ::Raven receded further into his thoughts, this was the only way. :: Load up the USS Geneva for me. oO Face your fear Oo Computer: Attention. There are no records of the USS Geneva currently on file. Young: Figures. ::Rolling his eyes:: Link into the Tricorder scans that I took on my Bracer and extrapolate. Computer: Working ::The Holodeck Computer and Raven's Bracer both chimed in harmony for a moment. The Deflector Control room the the USS Geneva materialized around him, taking his breath away. The Holodeck displayed a perfect representation of the small room, complete with the destroyed control panel that Lieutenant Commander Tam had fired on in her blind panic.:: Young: ::Checking his Bracer.:: Computer, skip to time index 48:03. Computer: Working ::Raven knew what he had to do now. How to help himself heal. He had to see it for himself. He needed to reassure himself that there was no choice and he had to fire on that Klingon. The Deflector Control room faded away to be replaced with the dimly lit confines of the Jefferies tube. This was where it happened. Raven looked around, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. Behind him there was a shallow pool of blood.:: Young: Computer, extrapolate from the bio-signs and audio recordings and display as characters. ::Raven fell to his knees as the scene unfolded before him. The very same Klingon who's face had haunted him for days appeared, brandishing a Bat'leth, poised to attack. He was frozen in place above a smaller Klingon with a familiar bracer on his right arm. Raven surveyed the scene, taking in every detail. He turned and saw the frozen form of Lieutenant Yito, covered in blood and nearby lay the unconscious Katrina Tam. He turned back and saw Lieutenant Sindri and Ensign Mulligan fighting hand to hand with the remaining pirates. The Klingon pirate was moments away from cutting the Klingon-disguised Raven in half. Raven's Klingon self had his Disruptor levelled at the enemies face. There really was no way out. He had met his own Kobayashi Maru. If Raven hadn't fired, killing the warrior he would have been killed. It was also likely that the rest of the team wouldn't have fared much better after becoming outnumbered. Raven had done the right thing, the only thing he could and survived.:: Young: ::To Tam:: Damn you. ::Tam didn't answer and remained as still as the rest of the Holodeck. Raven sighed and rounded back to the Klingon. He stood up and moved over to him, face to face. The expression on the Pirate was one of hunger, satisfaction that he was about to make a kill. The man had died in battle, like a true Klingon warrior Raven reflected. By his beliefs, he was celebrating in Sto'Vo'Kor. The thought made Raven feel a little better.:: Young: ::Staring deep into the Pirates features, intent on never forgetting his face:: Computer end program. ::The scene faded away back to the sleek lines of the Hologrid. Raven stood in silence for a time before moving away toward the doors. He paused. Starfleet and possibly even the other members of the crew might object if any trace of the highly classified Geneva mission remained. Raven punched the delete all button on his Bracer, purging all record of his scans. The Geneva mission would now remain only a memory. A memory that he could live with.:: END --------------------- Ensign Dave 'Raven' Young Science Officer USS Constitution-B C239411DY0
  44. 4 points
    @Mirra Ezo @Theo Whittaker Leaving me here, wiping away a tear. ((USS Blackwell - Guest Quarters)) ::Commander Theo Whittaker was not man given over easily to nerves. He had a steel in him that meant he could face most situations head on without hesitation or fear. It was this quality, he supposed, that had led from the engine rooms of starships to their bridges.:: ::Which was why, as he approached the currently occupied guest quarters, it was so unusual for him to feel a sense of trepidation. A little voice in his head began to tell him to turn around and leave. As he reached forward to tap the doorbell, he could feel his body screaming to run. And yet he moved not an inch other than with his elongated finger.:: ::The wait for a response was an eternity all of its own as seconds stretched out into infinities all of their own. He began to wonder if she would ever answer.:: ::And then she did.:: Ezo: ::shakily:: Enter. ::The doors hissed quietly open and Theo stepped into the modestly decorated cabin that smelled fresh and clean, like a room of a hotel somewhere on Rise or Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet. Like every other space aboard the U.S.S Blackwell (that was not a medical facility), the room was rather small and ‘cosy’- which meant Theo’s eyes found Mirra Ezo immediately.:: Ezo: ::stuttered:: H-hello...Commander. ::Once upon a time on a space station a thousand light years away, Theo and Mirra had served together and had been the closest of friends. They had survived murderous tribbles, undercover operations on drug-ravaged worlds, the hidden levels of StarBase 118, scurrilous rumours spread by a disgraced Commodore (whom Mirra may or may not have punched), warmongering renegade starship captains and a sadistic pirate out for vengeance. Whatever the universe threw at them, they swatted them.away like they were Molvanian March Flies.:: ::Then one day, out of the blue- Mirra left that space station a thousand lights from the Par’tha Expanse, with no warning other than she needed to take some time off. Theo had been bewildered and more than a little upset by his closest confidante’s abrupt departure. He had many questions and he turned detective to find her- to no avail. When Mirra Ezo did not want you to find her, then you wouldn't. He had even briefly considered employing the talents of another close friend who worked in Intelligence to find her but decided against it, knowing it would be seen as an inappropriate use of station resources.:: ::Now, here she stood- six months later, aboard his starship. Emotion welled and surged within him, fogging his mindscape, threatening to spring tears from his eyes and causing a lump in his throat. He opened his mouth before shutting it, not knowing what to say.:: ::Mirra Ezo was very rarely at a loss for words. Sometimes at a loss for polite words, but rarely without something to say. But standing in front of her was the one person she ran across galaxies with her proverbial tail tucked to avoid. She’d failed him. She’d failed all of them. Every bit of fire that made up her soul had slowly been burned out till nothing remained but embers. She didn’t ask for help, because she had no idea how. Everything she ever trusted to be true suddenly...wasn’t. She lost her spark, her edge. Dulled by the blade of the fearsome Chennel. She went to therapy, as required, but the physical damage to her shoulder was repaired long before the emotional damage. The one person who could understand and offer solace, she couldn’t turn to. She couldn’t let him know she failed.:: Ezo: ::quietly:: Please say something… ::A bit ironic for a telepath to beg for words, but Mirra never crossed that line intentionally with Theo and had no plans to start now. An errant thought here and there were the exception, especially when he was riled up about something, which was often. She began fidgeting nervously. Overwhelmed by her own mixed sense of elation and terror, she could barely sense his emotional state. But it was clear he was conflicted. Did he hate her? Would he send her as far away as his command would allow? Had he written her off as a moronic ginger haired Pakled with a sass problem?:: ::Should she say something? Attempt to explain the unexplainable? They faced down monsters of every imaginable kind together, survived heartbreaks and hangovers, broken bones and broken spirits...but when she lost her faith in who she was and what she did, she just ran. The most unforgivable of offenses. He stood stoically before her. If he could just say something, even if it was “I hate you.” She fought hard against the pull of once again running away, standing her ground with knees locked, prepared to face her fate. The tears welling up and threatening over as each silent moment stretched on was the only slip of her already shaking composure.:: ::He stepped towards her, hesitating at first. Her reappearance had opened up an old wound he had come to pretend did not exist. How could she simply leave without a parting word? Without telling a soul outside of a promptly filed leave of absence request? When Mirra vanished, he had never felt more isolated and alone- ironic when he served on a station with 300,000 souls aboard.:: ::As he took another step, he realised none of that mattered and before he knew it he had swept her up into a fierce, tight hug, eveloping her in arms. He didn’t ever want to let her go. His best friend, the better half of the coin, his person, his reality check was back in his life. And in that moment- he didn’t want to let her go. Ever.:: Whittaker: ::his voice cracked with emotion as he spoke.:: Hello you. ::He felt a tear on his cheek and he was surprised to find that he was crying.:: ::What little control she had on her emotions bolted right out the nearest airlock when his arms wrapped tightly around her. The tears began flowing like a waterfall as she buried her sopping face in the shoulder of her best friend’s uniform. It took a good few moments before Mirra was capable of intelligible speech:: Ezo: ::muffled:: I-I am s-so sorry Theo! ::mostly unintelligible squeaking:: P-please fo-forgive me. I am s-so happy t-to see you… ::Although one could argue against that considering the veritable rivers falling from her eyes at an alarming rate. Before long, she’d owe her friend a new shirt. That is, if she didn’t accidentally crack a rib from how tightly she was hugging him. Every little broken piece she’d had rattling around inside her for the better part of six months somehow began mending themselves back in their rightful places. No matter how far she’d traveled, Theo Whittaker felt just like home.:: Ezo: ::quietly:: How you must hate me... ::Despite the better angels of his nature, he broke the hug and looked at her with a smile despite his tears. He was not a man given over to overt displays of emotions- one of the lasting lessons his father had imparted- but none of that mattered. He had never been more happy to see another living being in the whole of his life. Mirra Ezo, somebody he was not sure he would ever see again, had fallen in to his world again.:: ::There was nothing but happiness and tears.:: Whittaker: ::he shook his head, wiping the salty tear from his cheek before it rolled into his mouth.:: Not one iota. None of it matters. Not right now. ::he took her hand in his.:: I’m just happy to see you in one piece. ::If something had happened to her on Arndall… whatever was she doing there?... he would never have been able to forgive himself. He would have cracked the whole world in two to avenge her. Caraadians, Valcarians and Kam’Jahtae be damned. He would have hunted those responsible to through space and time with a fury like no other.:: ::He didn’t hate her. Not one bit. He was clearly a far better person than she was. Not that this wasn’t already a known fact, but it still nearly took her breath with shock. Her red, blotchy face and swollen eyes did very little to hide the relief that washed through her.:: Ezo: ::small wry smile:: You’re a commander of a Federation Starship. ::squeezing his hands tightly:: I knew you were destined for greatness. ::He made a tutting sound with his mouth and rolled his eyes in a display of mock annoyance. It was an old and familiar routine, one that they had perfected between them over the course of three years. How quickly, after months apart and seismic changes in both of their lives- both personally and professionally- they slipped back into old habits.:: Whittaker: ::he rolled his eyes for emphasis as he spoke.:: You know how much I loathe you being correct. Ezo: ::grinning broadly:: How many times must I tell you, I am always correct and you should stop doubting me…? ::Suddenly her face fell. She realized that her entire plan over the last few months had been nothing but doubt.:: Theo...I… ::He held up a hand and shook his head. There would, of course, have to be difficult questions answered in the coming days, weeks or maybe even months- about her sudden flight from StarBase 118, about her silence for so many months…- but he did not want to tackle them now. Not when the storm of conflicted emotion had- for him at least- subsided. All he wanted in that moment was to be with his friend.:: Whittaker: Not now, Mirra. Not today. ::despite his interjection, he was smiling warmly at her.:: I just want to be here with you. All the difficult conversations can wait. We all make mistakes. ::And he should know better than anyone. He had taken the assignment to the Blackwell without discussing it first with Taelon, the Chief Science Officer of StarBase 118 with whom he had been in a complicated…. something with. He had effectively ended their burgeoning relationship without warning. All because he had been fleeing from the return of Baylen Anders. Theo might have prided himself on his professionalism as a Starfleet officer, but he could take no such satisfaction from his personal life.:: Ezo: ::raising an eyebrow:: Not that I am not...elated at your forgiveness...I must say I am a bit…::shuddered breath:: I mean... Whittaker: People in glass houses should never throw stones. At least that was what my mother used to say to my father when I was younger. ::he reached out and wiped a tear from Mirra’s cheek. A soft chuckle escaped his lips.:: Come on now, let's not cry anymore. ::he said as his voice threatened to crack under the emotions palpable in the room.::::he nodded, approvingly.:: I'm descended from British aristocracy- we don't do emotion. ::Despite the wellspring of emotion that had engulfed the room, Theo had an idea- one that made him smirk as he looked at the Betazoid.:: Whittaker: But we do one thing very well. ::At that point, the weight of a neutron star smack dab in the middle of her thoracic cavity seemed to lighten significantly. She had been truly terrified. And now…? Well now she was home. In a sense. Something she hadn’t felt in well over 8 months. Forgoing any lingering dignity, she used the shoulder of her ill-fitting uniform to ebb the tide of her sobbing face.:: Ezo: And that would be….? ::His eyes shimmered mischievously as he stepped across the guest quarters towards the replicator. He looked at Mirra with a matching grin before he turned to the invaluable device and spoke.:: Whittaker: Two Manhattan Cosmopolitans with orange peel twists in stemmed martini glasses. ::Mirra nearly felt the tears returning in full force, but instead, she snorted in a failed attempt to stifle her laughter.:: Ezo: ::smirking playfully:: Did the executive council know of your addiction to cosmopolitans before they handed you the reigns of this Starship…? ::The device whirred to life, materialising the classic beverage on the small pad. He lifted the crystal cut glassware by the stem. Returning to Mirra, he handed her one and raised his glass in a traditional gesture. Though she would have to face some difficult questions about her activities on Arndall in time, Theo wanted her to know that he would stay by her side as much as he could for as long as he could. They shared many hardships in the three years they had been friends and they had always come through to the other side and shared a drink together. This would be no different.:: Whittaker: To our friendship, Mirra. May it never, ever end. Ezo: ::raising her glass in return:: And, if it should ever end, may we haunt the ship together! ::grinning::
  45. 4 points
    There's a great tutorial on Sexism in Simming as well, and the same principles apply to racism or any other form of discrimination. https://www.starbase118.net/cadets/tutorial-library/sexism-simming/ Basically, we as a community do not tolerate it. OOC (Out Of Character) we are open and welcoming to everyone, regardless of race, religion (or lack thereof), sex or sexual orientation, and whether or not they think pineapple goes on pizza. IC (In Character) we may, very occasionally, have a character display some sort of discrimination or prejudice for the purpose of the storyline. It has to be very clear that it is the character's opinion, not the writer's. Most commonly it's a species prejudice, e.g. a character doesn't trust Ferengi or thinks Vulcans are boring. This tends to be less inflammatory as it doesn't parallel as closely to things in real life, though one can compare 'speciesism' to racism. Generally, if it's not going to forward the story in some way avoid simming prejudices, and if you think that it might offend someone, clear it with your Captain first. My character just attended the wedding of two of his former colleagues, both of whom are male and who are different species (and one is a species hybrid). It was a lovely event and thoroughly enjoyed by all who were involved in simming it. This is very typical of the Fleet; we are open and not just accepting but welcoming of diversity. For mission plots, the basic premise is generally determined by the Captain and First Officer of the ship, sometimes with input from other senior crew members who are considered sim 'staff'. However, once the mission is launched, the input of every crew member steers the direction that the mission takes, and the outcome is never a foregone conclusion. Often it's the newest Ensign who throws some interesting curve balls into the plot, which is great! Sometimes the Captain will ask for ideas for future missions you'd like to see, and there is always the option to submit a formal mission suggestion, if there's a story that you'd really like to play.
  46. 4 points
    ((Runabout USS Farrow)) :: For Dante Termine the adrenaline of open combat wore off soon after the final decompression fire from the robot vessel snuffed itself in the void of space. In it’s place, there was left only the anxieties of a new placement, made infinitely more unnerving by entirely singular arrival. After all, seeing your new ship in pieces wasn’t the homecoming any Ensign wished. Dante drummed his fingers, a bad habit he had never been able to quit. Dane glanced at his coms panel. It was still full with continual damage reports and all-green check-ins from the marines aboard the Atlantis, but for now there was nothing that anyone aboard the Farrow could do.:: Termine: oO Fighting… all this fighting. First on the simulator and the first thing I do on my new assignment is fire on an enemy ship? I joined Starfleet for peace, not for fighting… Could I have been wrong about enlisting? Was Starfleet just an army in disguise, like all of it’s opponents say? Oo :: Dante snapped back to his console when a hail came in. It was a request to lower shields and allow beam-in which Dante did, upon order from CommanderLydra. a few seconds later and Dante was squinting as a transporter beam glowed to in the centre of the room. It solidified into the form of a Bolian male, wearing the uniform from the Command division from Starfleet, and the rank insignia of a Commander. He proceeded to immediately clasp hands with Lyldra, join their elbows and press their heads together. A Bolian courtship customs, something Dante had seen before, but never quite like this. Dante watched as the two Bolians held each other close for just a moment, and in their eyes he saw only one thing, love. It was that very moment, that all the anxiety melted from Dante. If this was to be his CO, everything was going to be ok. Because even in that small moment Dante saw that Commander Brell, was a man knew love. He was a man Dante could follow. :: :: A few seconds later, Commander Brell turned Sotak and Termine. :: Termine: Welcome aboard captain! ::Dante, remembering himself, leapt from his chair to stand at full attention :: Brell: I thought I’d welcome you both to the crew here. :: He smiled at them both. :: Sotak: We understand your inability to greet us before sir, the Atlantis seems to be full of tasks to repair it and it of course takes precedence. Termine: With all this going on, thank you for taking the time to welcome us sir. What can we do for you sir? Brell: As you know towing the Atlantis back will take another day, and for the time being you likely to be more comfortable here. Sotak: About that, sir, I was wondering if there was something we could do to help the current situation on the ship. :: Dante nodded at his peer’s words before voicing his agreement:: Termine: Aye sir, I second that sentiment. Brell: If you’d really like to join in the repair details we can have one of the shuttle pilots transfer over. Sotak: Yes, sir. At least speaking for myself, I would like to be of some service with the ongoing repairs. As a science officer I'm not sure I can do much, but I am capable enough to handle basic repairs and be able to relieve someone from the engineering personnel so they can get some rest, as they will surely need. Brell: Response Sotak: Thank you, sir, I will arrange it. (( Two days later, Etherieal Pleasures bar, DS26 )) :: Dante held his shoulder as he rolled it in it’s joint. He had spent the last two days cleaning and repairing the corridors of the Atlantis, assisting in the repairs of the ship. Not being an engineer himself he had spent the better part of that time cutting and clearing debris from the halls and the strain on Dante’s muscles could be felt. On the stool beside him sat a PADD as well as a long-stemmed glass of Betazed wine. It was good stuff, and properly alcoholic too, just want Dante wanted to dull the throbbing in his arms. On his PADD was a crew manifest, faces and names of all his new shipmates and hopefully his new family.:: Termine: oO A new family huh? I wonder what they will be like … Oo :: Out of the corner of his eye, Dante noticed at a table a face he had only moments before scrolled past on his screen. Ensign Thayon Jann, the ship’s counselor . Looking for friends and noting that the ship’s counselor was probably a good person to get to know, he decided now was the time for introductions. Dante walked over, his drink in hand and approached Jann’s table:: Termine: Excuse me, Counselor Jann? Hi, I’m Ensign Dante Termine. I’ve just been assigned aboard the Atlantis. You know, one of the ones that arrived on the Farrow? Is this seat taken? :: Dante gestured to a chair beside the man:: Jann: response Termine: I hope I’m not interrupting anything, I just wanted to speak to you about the Atlantis and it’s crew. This is my first posting and I’m a bit nervous of running into any [...] pas. I’ve never been part of a crew before, or even worked on a ship so I’m a little nervous I may be out of my element. ::Dante chuckles:: I grew up around diplomats so regrettably I feel more comfortable in my dress uniform than my civvies. Jan: response ___________________________ Ensign Dante Termine USS Atlantis OPS Officer A239503DT0
  47. 4 points
    Cameron pretty much said it all. Thanks so much, everyone.
  48. 4 points
    The Captains Council is pleased to announce that Mei’konda, First Officer of the USS Veritas, has been promoted to the rank of Commander! Mei’konda joined the fleet in 2013, serving as helmsman for the USS Mercury before moving into operations officer roles on the Garuda, Invicta, and finally the Veritas. He was promoted to First Officer last April and has served in the role since then. The writer behind Mei’konda, Aaron, has been highly decorated with awards, including: the Russ Bar, the Genesis Award, Nebula Bar, and B-Plot Award. His enjoyable portrayal of a Caitian character has developed the species among our community. He’s also a member of the Training Team, and the Advanced Starship Design Bureau. Many thanks to him for his long years of service and dedication. Here’s to many more! Head to the forums now to congratulate Cmdr. Mei’konda on the promotion! The post Mei’konda promoted to Commander appeared first on UFOP: StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. View the full article
  49. 3 points
    I'm usually loathe to post something of my own, but I feel this is rather 'historic' since it is not every day that you get to launch your own command! I hope you all enjoy!
  50. 3 points
    ((Yzieme Beach, Trill)) ::The light was fading from the sky about the same time as the sun began to set in the old man's eyes. ::The blond woman -- who had but this morning been Kudrem Kian -- sat cross-legged on the beach, nestled amongst the pale white sands. She was a stranger to many, barely a footnote on a ship that regarded crew as family. But even those few who knew her, would have been hard-pressed to recognise her. A fire blazed in her eyes, fierce and passionate, transforming her whole body. No more was she the shade stalking the corridors, seeking refuge in oblivion, terrified that everyone would realise that she was a failure. Now she was filled with passion and purpose, straight-backed and determined. ::Kudrem Kian was gone. Lladre had been reborn. ::Laid in front of her, head cradled in her lap, holding her hands as they lay upon his chest, was the man who had offered to help her only a few days earlier. He too was different. With the symbiont removed, his hold on life was fading fast. He was no longer Lladre; Perdut had been his name when he had been born, and that was what it would be when he died. Perdut: You shouldn't have done this. You don't have the time. ::She looked down at him, a fond and gently amused smile on her lips.:: Lladre: You of all people know that I don't like to be told what to do. ::Oh, he did. And how he'd loved it; the rebellion, the freedom, the carefree way that Lladre had lived their lives. The symbiont had offered everything he'd ever wanted, and so much more besides. He was dying now, but it was as a man contented and at peace.:: Perdut: How's Kian? Lladre: In stasis. That's more than it deserves. ::She snorted, and her lip curled in disgust.:: Weak-willed little creature. I would've recycled it with the rest of the garbage, except I think it'll be useful. ::Lladre had nothing but contempt for Kudrem's former symbiont. It had been wasting the life of a talented host, letting her wallow in misery and mediocrity when it could have been guiding her to greatness. They had only been joined a few hours, but already the woman was happier than she ever had been with Kian. ::Perdut smiled in reply, weariness barely lifting the corners of his mouth. He had, after all, heard much worse from the symbiont. They had *done* much worse. And he regretted none of it. Laws and morals were nothing more than the excuses of the weak-willed and passionless.:: Perdut: That's good. You'll need the insurance. Stealing from Starfleet will cause you some trouble. Lladre: For a little while, no doubt. ::She chuckled, smiling down at him again.:: But I have a plan for that. ::He smiled, and it felt like an effort that would move mountains. That didn't escape Lladre's notice, and her expression turned mournful, her hands squeezing his tightly.:: Lladre: I'm going to miss you. ::It was Perdut's turn to chuckle, a quiet, rasping wheeze of a sound. His time was ending.:: Perdut: I'll always be with you. ::He looked away from her, toward the stars glimmering in the sky, breathtaking in their beauty. He'd seen so many of them, experienced wonders that he couldn't even begin to describe. Lladre had taken him from his tiny, miserable life and given him a gift beyond measure. Every memory was a treasure, and he let them flood through his mind, filling his heart and soul with joy.:: Perdut: Thank you. ::He died with a smile on his lips, a solitary tear on his cheek. It was joined by more, falling from Lladre's eyes, as she leaned over to kiss his forehead. The decision to move on from Perdut had been one of the hardest she'd had to make, and his loss was keenly felt.:: Lladre: Thank *you*. ::She sat there for some time, the heat fleeing his body as the night cooled. Then, a quiet chime came from the device in her pocket, reminding her that time ever marched on. With a deep sigh, she untangled herself and stood, leaving him there in the sand, resting forever under the stars.:: -- Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0
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