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Chen

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Chen last won the day on August 22 2015

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About Chen

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    I'm blue, da ba dee da ba dai!
  • Birthday 02/15/1982

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    StarBase 118 Operations
  • Current Post
    Chief of Intel

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    UK
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  1. Tried it in school because of TNG. Drinking it black was weird, but that was how Captain Picard did it, so that was how I had to do it. And it was good! I love Earl Grey - it's great before bedtime, and I now sometimes have it with milk, without milk, or with lemon (which is particularly nice!). Recommend!
  2. ((Earth - Star Fleet Academy - Near the shore)) ::DeBarres was sitting on a bench near the bay, she put down her PADD and looked out at the water. It had been a good couple of weeks at the academy. She had skipped her 3rd year cadet classes and was now ranked as a 4th year cadet. The two years as a crew member and her work on the Victory and Vigilant had convinced the brass that she would just be wasting her time spending her third year with her classmates. Not that she even considered them her classmates. She had spent most of her academy class time via subspace and serving in the engineering department.:: ::She had far more practical experience aboard a starship then probably the entire 3rd year class combined. Any ways being on Earth wasn't a picnic. She missed deep space, as she had spend the vast majority of her life aboard a ship of one type or another. Most of her time extra time these days was taking tests to stay out of classes. Sure there were some required classes she had to take, but with her experience getting out of a lot of them had been not too difficult.:: ::She had learned that most of her crew from the Victory had transferred to the USS Gorkon. The sounds of the seagulls snapped her back from the day dream of deep space and back to the here and now.:: DeBarres: What test is next? ::She picked up the PADD and looked it see that it was her final exam for her piloting skills test.:: DeBarres: Good grief. I can pilot a balky freighter into a repair facility without a scratch. ::Charlotte had been raised on the long haul space freighter and had done everything at one time or other aboard the ship.:: ::She paused for a moment.:: DeBarres: Alight, one little scratch. Any ways the starboard thrusters were out. ::She started to review the requirements of the test and it was important that everything was done the "Federation" way.:: DeBarres: I think a bit more holotime... just to make sure. ::She pressed to the PADD and made a reservation in a holodeck to work out any kinks that might crop up. Just then a small white spot appeared on the bench next to her. There was a noise from one of the sea gulls hovering over her looking for some food.:: ::She looked at the bird dropping and then up at the sea gull.:: DeBarres: Go away! ::Waving her hand at the bird.:: Wonderful, just wonderful.::Dryly.:: Give me a star ship any day. This is for the birds. Got to finish up and get away from here. ::She looked away from the ugly bird dropping and back out to the San Francisco bay.:: (PNPC) Charlotte DeBarres4th yearCadet SIMmed by Eerie Serial number # A238803E10
  3. ((Rosek's Quarters, USS Gorkon)) ::Lael was browsing through her message inbox when she noticed one from Janel. Eager to read it, she selected the message and entered the command that would allow her to view it.:: =========================================== Dear Lael, How are you settling in aboard the Gorkon and what have you been up to lately? I’m really enjoying it here on the Darwin and am catching up with old friends as well as making new ones. I helped the medical relief crew aboard Deep Space 6 while they had their second annual shuttle race. I thought it would mainly be a case of tending to the drunken mob after the results were announced, or the odd bumps and bruises of those fighting over lost bets and the like. I never expected that someone would lose their life or that one of my very own colleagues would be involved in a crash and in need of our care. Darwin crewed teams did really well with the race though placing first and second with their shuttles so I guess there’s a silver lining. I am missing you though and wish you could be here. I hope you’re settling in well with your new crew and look forward to hearing from you soon. Best regards, Janel ============================================== ::She frowned. She'd heard about the crash second and third hand, mostly from articles by the FNS. Until his message, she'd wondered if Janel had been involved and perhaps been the one killed. They still weren't releasing the name of the individual who had died.:: ============================================== Dear Janel, I'm sorry to hear about your colleague. I'd read a little about the crash, but the FNS still isn't saying much. It's been pretty routine here. They've got us on a course for the Menthar Corridor. From what I understand its part of the Astrofori initiative to build positive relations with the Cardassians and the Breen, though it makes me nervous that the Corridor shares a border with Tholian space. As I'm sure you remember, our last encounter with them was anything but pleasant. The crew has been nice enough and I've even developed a somewhat friendly rapport with Ensign Orrey, one of the Medical Officers on board. He's easy to talk to and has been kind enough to lend an ear when I needed one. I've taken to spending my off hours with Ensign Goodwell and a few of his friends to keep my mind off things. It's been a tough adjustment, but I'm getting there. I still wake up in the middle of the night half expecting to find you next to me. While Maggie, my new puppy companion, is good for snuggling, I wish she was you. I'm glad to hear things are getting better for you. I know you were in a difficult place for a bit there with all of the crap that rained down on us. I'm working on a little surprise that will hopefully make the time apart a little more bearable. I'm studying the Darwin's crew manifest everyday and I have a few friends up the ladder keeping their ears open for news of Engineering or HCO positions available. With any luck, I'll be joining you soon. I love and miss you desperately, Lael ============================================== ​::She then tapped the attachment link and laughed as a picture of Janel wearing his ever-charming grin popped up on her monitor. It was a rare treat to see Janel smile, especially as of late. Saving the file to her desktop, she then downloaded it to the electronic frame of holophotos beside her monitor.:: ::Pausing, she snapped one of herself wearing her sexy bedroom eyes and attached it, then sending the message.::​ -- LT JG Lael Rosek HCO Officer USS Gorkon I238110RH0
  4. I thought the camaraderie between the DS9 crew was amazing. They were all involved in each other's personal lives somehow and it seemed like they were a crew of friends just as much as they were a crew of Starfleet officers and Bajoran militiamen. It's pretty hard not to pick a pair of characters and find some kind of solid link between them. I think this is epitomised by the episode Badda Bing, Badda Bang - yes, it would have been inconvenient if the crew had lost access to Vic Fontaine's club, but they weren't fighting for the club so much as they were each other - that was their place and they weren't going to let each other down!
  5. Ally's not the only one having a giggle fit. I bet everyone's jealous that their character doesn't double as a hoopla board!
  6. I have to declare my undying gratitude to TOS for the fact that whenever I read the word Horta the words "NO KILL I!" flash before my eyes!!!
  7. ((USS Darwin, Deck 1, Captain’s Ready Room)) :: Captain Renos had gone directly back to nir office after the party. Ne was technically off shift but there was a matter than ne had been meaning to take care of for some time. Unfortunately the demands of their last mission had kept nem busy and Iy deserved an answer sooner rather than later, particularly since ne’d contributed so well to the Asavii expedition. Even when things had taken unexpected turns and become difficulty, Iy had not complained but had stuck in there and helped as much as possible. :: :: The truth was, Renos could have granted Iy asylum right away. Ne had the discretionary power to do so – but that didn’t mean ne should. The process had been longer when ne’d gone through it. There was no Captain or other authority waving a magic wand after a single happy conversation to make nir problems disappear. Ne didn’t want to make Iy wait for the sake of waiting but the fact was any criminal could come crying to the Federation and provide a sob story designed to gain sympathy and allow one escape from nit actions. :: :: No. Renos had needed to be sure that Iy was being genuine and not seeking an easy escape from justice. Such a thing could not be determined simply by taking everything at face value. It had taken a few hours but ne’d used contacts back at Starbase 118 to very quietly put out feelers. Had Iy been wanted for something other than mere deviance Renos felt confident it would have been uncovered. In short everything was coming together to nir satisfaction so Renos put through the paper work and was looking forward to giving Iy the good news. :: Renos: oO I wonder if Iy has considered what ne wants to do next? Oo :: As a Federation citizen ne would be free to go anywhere within the Federation, settle down and find work. If ne wanted to be a potter at the bottom of the Bolian ocean, ne could go right ahead. The deviant captain was listening to a FNS bulletin about the recent scandal before the Presidential State of the Federation address when ne received an incoming transmission on a secured, non-Federation channel. :: :: Ne recognised the caller immediately, what surprised nem was that they were contacting nem in this way despite being advised against it. The J’naii looked unimpressed. Whatever this was – it had better be important. :: Renos: I assume this is important? Keris: Donghae sank. :: In other words their safehouse was no longer safe. Probably burned to the ground. That was a blow and ne knew not to try and make contact there again, to do so would put nem at risk. Renos really wanted to ask what had happened and get more details but couldn’t. This channel was secure but ne wasn’t prepared to risk it. :: Renos: I hear you. Sad news. Anything more? Keris: Only this – 31 were lost in the incident. :: 31. That was the codename for a mentee ne had been helping. Renos’s eyes immediately drifted towards the yellow Daruma sat nearby. Ne did not want to believe what ne was hearing. :: Renos: Lost? Keris: Permanently. :: Sorrow etched on nir features was echoed in those facing nir. Ne covered nir mouth with fingertips and allowed nir shoulders to sag. It would be easy to feel disheartened and defeated and Renos was deeply saddened to hear another life had been claimed in the fight for existence. It couldn’t be in vain and if anything Renos was more determined to be able to help nir comrades. :: Renos: I’m sorry. Keris: As are we all. I must take my leave. Renos: Be safe. :: They exchanged a look and gesture before disconnecting. The conversation had taken less than a minute to complete and might have appeared curt and cold to a bystander but it was anything but. Renos had seen the pain in Keris’s eyes and had been profoundly upset by the news. Ne picked up the small Daruma and took it to the sofa by the side of nir office. Leaning back on the seat ne regarded it. :: Renos: What do I do with you? :: Ne had never had a Daruma doll – a goal that ne could not complete before. With the passing of 31 – Setsuko, J’naii who self-identified as female, ne would never be able to fulfil nir goal to help nem escape to the Federation. Usually Renos would set a goal and paint one eye on the Daruma, then paint the other eye in once it was completed, then burn it in a special ceremony before starting a new one. This one would never be complete. Setsuko had died because she had identified as having a gender and the Government and general populace thought her ill, a deviant and in need of correction for it. Who would remember her now? Renos refused to forget and keeping the Daruma would serve to remind nem of the ones that didn’t make it. :: :: Ne got some paint and very carefully painted a tear coming from the eye that had previously been painted in. The other eye would never be painted in. :: Renos: ::To the Daruma:: May you now get the peace you never had in life. :: It was a day of much happiness, sadness and reflection. You couldn’t time these things. More than ever Renos wanted some quiet time to relax and to take this new information in. Ne tapped nir badge, to invite one more to join the small group headed to the Spa. :: Renos: =/\= Renos to Ensign Mpeba. =/\= Mpeba: =/\= Sir? =/\= Renos: =/\= A small group of us are headed to the Spa to relax. Are you interested in coming along? =/\= Mpeba: =/\= It would be my pleasure, sir. When should I meet you. =/\= =========================================================== Captain Renos - Commanding Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A Also simming: Lt JG Tarna, Medical Officer, USS Victory NCC-362447 FWPA Co-Facilitator | Publicity Team Facilitator Contact: renos@starbase118.net ===========================================================
  8. ((Bistro, Promenade, Deep Space 6)) ::Settled in at a cozy little table outside a quaint, quiet restaurant, Ren Rennyn's nerves were finally beginning to calm, despite the day's strange events.:: ::It helped to talk about what had been happening to him, and he was lucky to have found a wonderful listener.:: Rennyn: So there I was walking out of a shop, carrying a padd with my bill of sale. I managed to snag the driver coils Mpeba wanted, plus a laundry list of other parts for the race entry, all at a price I could afford. The project's off to a great start. The equipment's varied on a galactic scale - Cardassian, Ferengi, Romulan even. Some of it's out of date. But I know Mpeba can work with it. ::He paused, but when the other man said nothing, Ren continued.:: Rennyn: So there I was. I was glancing over the list of what I'd just bought, double checking the delivery schedule they'd promised, when I looked up and I saw him in the distance. Sovak. Right here on the Promenade. I'd know that falsely logical goofball mug anywhere. I called out to him. I swear it was him! But when I chased him through the crowd, I couldn't find him. I thought I was crazy. I mean, I think about him all the time. Like I told you, I've known him for years, and we finally almost had something going, before I transferred to Darwin. He didn't even say goodbye. He took off for Vulcan to reboot his logic functions, or whatever unemotional robotic nonsense he goes in for now. Again. It's like every time we admit our feelings for each other, he decides he needs to go back to kohlinar, and purge it all out of himself. It's frustrating. Frankly, I'm angry about it, and when I do see him one of these days, I am telling you, he's in for an earful. ::Before he could get too fired up about it, Ren took the last calming bite of his dessert. He'd tried a Bolian seaweed and kelp salad for lunch. His mouth had worked up and down mechanically at it, reminding him of being back home in Arnmere, watching the livestock chew. He gagged a little, but forced himself to swallow the slimy green mess. The aftertaste of just one bite threatened to be with him for a while. It had taken two decadent chocolate desserts to wash it down.:: Rennyn: So then, I went to one of the theaters on deck 59. I figured I'd just relax and take my mind completely out of my troubles with a holovid. They showed this cheesy old Earth movie, Short Circuit, about a robot who comes to life and makes friends. They showed it at the Academy once. Sovak loved Short Circuit. So I'm here on Deep Space 6, watching Short Circuit, thinking about Sovak, and there, a few rows in front of me, I swear to you, it was him. Even from behind, I'd know that haircut anywhere. The basic Vulcan cut, but a little wild and windblown, like a logical bad boy who just got off his logical mazerati to tell you you're fascinating and making out is the only logical course of action, and you're going to live long and prosper together forever! ::As Ren's voice reached a fever pitch, he noted his listener's quizzical, nearly disturbed look, and dialed it back a notch.:: Rennyn: I apologize. I'm getting a little carried away. ::He pushed back the dessert plate, finished with eating, but not with telling his story.:: Rennyn: I guess I got lost in my thoughts in the theater too, because when I looked again, he was gone. I don't know. I guess it wasn't him. But it got me thinking that maybe it's time for me to try reaching him on subspace. I should comm him, right? I mean, I should call and tell him how I feel. Of course, how I feel is that I'm angry with him, and telling him about will involve some amount yelling and hopping around and restraining the urge to throw a punch. So long distance comms are good, right? ::The bitter feelings growing in Ren's heart stemmed from his wish that it could have worked out between him and Sovak. Even Ren had enough logic in him to see that. Logic wasn't what Ren wanted now. Logic was what had taken Sovak away from him, just as they were making a start at a real relationship. If the feelings of anger and resentment coursing through his veins were illogical, then it was all the better that he welcomed them to stay, and to grow, and to prosper.:: Rennyn: How could he. Sitting on his mountaintop, heaping sadness on my heart in exchange for his own selfish emotionlessness. He pursued me, you know. That's how this all started. I haven't forgotten that, and maybe it's a little selfish of me, but I am honestly outraged by the whole thing. How can I not be? Hey, stop hovering. Have a seat. ::His listener stood his ground. Ren continued, more animated by the minute.:: Rennyn: You will be outraged too, when you hear this! So after all that, I finally worked up the courage to call him. I'm not sure I'd quite worked out the levelheadedness I needed, but I was getting there. So guess what. He's not on Vulcan! He left, with no forwarding location. Where did he go? I don't even know. Some distant corner of the galaxy I guess, where cold, emotionless robot people live. Not here! Because I saw him a third time, outside this very restaurant. And true to the way my day has been going, when I caught up to him, when I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around after running down the Promenade calling his name like a dang fool... it was some other Vulcan. I've seen Sovak everywhere today, but the truth is, I might never see him again. I guess that's alright. I guess that's for the best. Because if I ever see that smug emotionless face, the cute haircut will not make a difference. He's gonna get it. He's gonna get a hollering at like no one in the galaxy's ever heard before. He's gonna get told what for, why how, and how not, that's sure. There's nothing in the universe can hold back the angry rage building up in me because of that dang Vulcan, and it's coming for him, with bells, whistles, and possibly a string of obscenities that hasn't even been invented yet! ::The Trill's face was redder than any uniform he'd ever worn, and his spots stood out like little angry soldiers. He was riled up and hopping mad just thinking about it. When the day came he finally saw Sovak, that dang Vulcan was sure in for the business. For now, Ren forced himself to sit back, and breathe, and let his blood pressure cool down.:: ::The listener cleared his throat and shifted his weight impatiently. In a calmer tone following a nice, deep breath, Ren returned to his senses and apologized for doing all the talking.:: Rennyn: I am so sorry. Here I am going on about my problems. Didn't this start when you asked me a question? ::After so much patient listening, the man standing by Ren's table spoke up in a carefully measured tone.:: Waiter: Regular or decaf? Rennyn: Oh. ...Uhm.... ::Ren paled. He'd gone much farther off track than he'd thought.:: Waiter: I'll just bring you decaf. ::The waiter strolled away, leaving Ren to contemplate his own ridiculousness. He was so upset over Sovak that he apparently couldn't even function in public. Still though, all that talking had helped him work through some of his feelings. And his decision was made.:: ::If he ever saw Sovak again, he was going to let his anger out. Their relationship was over forever.:: ============================================ Lieutenant Commander Rendal Rennyn HCO Officer USS Darwin NCC-99312-A ============================================
  9. I shot with DS9 - I think they did a great job of giving us insight into the characters, took the brave step of making the doctor not particularly likeable (which then set up a fantastic evolution over the course of the 7 series) and the setting was absolute magic - there was no starship and everything was vulnerable - a fragile station guarding the wormhole to another part of the galaxy as well as a fragile world. Plus, Gul Dukat - best villain in Trek imo!
  10. Chen

    Best Friends

    Spot kicked all the but!
  11. Hi guys, Because all of us on the featured bio contest team want you to have the best possible chance of creating an awesome looking bio, we've put together a template bio that includes instructions on how you can personalise it and make it your own! If you're starting up a brand new bio, follow the steps below for instant results! Step 1: Head to the page you want to create, usually CharacterSurname, CharacterFirstName (e.g. Herrera, Diego) Step 2: Hit 'edit' Step 3: Paste the text below into the edit window and hit save:- {{Subst:StarterBio}} When your page saves you will magically have all of the code for a pre-formatted bio that meets all of the judging criteria for the featured bio contest! You can also do this if you're performing a complete overhaul, but don't forget to copy and paste the information that you previously had on your bio page somewhere safe so you don't erase it. We hope this is useful to you! Enjoy!
  12. The phrase ‘dead of night’ certainly seemed apt. Were it not for the fact that Kellan’s young eyes had adjusted to the dark, he felt he could have been sneaking around a crypt. There was a presence in the atmosphere of Valo II that was reminiscent of the underworld somehow, a heavy, oppressive quality to the air that threatened to crush you with every passing minute. There was no hope here. No light. The young Bajoran scrambled over crumbling walls. The familiar tickle of brick-dust on his lungs brought with it the threat of a telltale cough that could wake one of the tumbledown ruin’s inhabitants. This part of the city was nothing more than a slum, filled with people like him. Food was scarce and money even more so. This wasn’t his first time sneaking food from here; the ruin’s inhabitants were thrifty and resourceful, a gang of street thugs with just enough influence that they were able to gather food as a tithe in addition to whatever else they were able to scavenge or pilfer from forays further into the city. They were known to Kellan, and he was known to them. In fact, their relationship to one another was well defined. They provided him food and, on the frequent occasions when they realised that, they also provided him pain. It was worth it, though. The clandestine operation always brought with it a chance of success. The truth was, Kellan’s hopes lay far from here and he wasn’t stealing for himself. The sixteen year-old thief had found someone he cared about in the slums. He had been led to him not by the Prophets, but by his own two feet, and when he’d encountered the old, gaunt beggar and offered him part of the food he had managed to gather during the day, he had suddenly felt and understood the meaning of kindness. In return, the man who he had come to know as Heril had given him quite the unique gift. During the hours they spent together, he taught him incredible things about the stars, about space and about the rules by which the world worked. It wasn’t much of a world, but to suddenly find himself beginning to understand it made Kellan hungry for knowledge. He’d had a basic education in the refugee camps but, once they had been broken up, he’d learned little else other than what was necessary to survive on the streets of this excuse for a slum. And so the never ending quest to sate two kinds of hunger had begun. The camps didn’t exist any more. They had been dispersed after the liberation of Bajor. Many of the Bajora had taken their chance to travel home but for some, such things were not possible. Kellan had no family to whom he could return. During his early years in the camps, he could remember being taken care of by a number of different families but inevitably the same thing would always happen and he would be passed along like an unwanted disease thanks to the amount of food a growing boy needed to consume. He was as thin as a rake now, all arms and legs as he had shot upwards but not outwards. His frame was ideal for nights like this, sneaking through exposed segments of foundations, into and out of cavities in walls, or in the narrow spaces between ceilings and floors. Heril’s concerns about his health usually fell on deaf ears, not because Kellan wasn’t worried himself, but because he couldn’t afford to think about it. Fortunately, it was easy to get the old man talking about what lay beyond the bitter world that they lived in. During those times, such things were easily forgotten. A floorboard creaked. He’d allowed himself to become too distracted and deviated a few inches from his normal path. He knew it was going to cost him and his suspicions were confirmed moments later when his sharp ears picked up three words that made his heart sink: “I’ll go check.” Immediately, he had to make a decision about whether or not to listen to his instincts, which were all telling him to run, or his stomach, which was telling him he had to stay. Heril had to be hungry, too. It was two days now since Kellan had managed to find anything for them. No-one else would look after the old man; without Kellan he might starve. His feet carried him quickly to a darkened recess despite their will to carry him to the nearest window. With great dread, he realised that there were two sets of footsteps coming towards him and not one. “It’s that whelp again. I’m telling you, he comes here every night.” The room’s metal door was unceremoniously heaved to one side by two pairs of hands. Kellan never used it, there were other ways in and out, but none that he could access now without being seen. He held his breath for fear that even that might give him away. To his own ears, it sounded like the men would be able to locate him by the drum beat of his heart. No matter how many times he was caught by them, he could never be quite sure what form their justice would take. Lately they had been getting more and more inventive. When he saw them start to check recesses where the wall had collapsed, he knew that he was going to have the chance to find out. At times like this, he could feel parts of his mind starting to shut down. It was a protective response, he realised, one that helped him to cope with the fact that this happened so regularly and that let him maintain his will to keep coming back to the most reliable source of food in the whole area. Rather than cowering until the inevitable moment where he would be caught, he was taken with the overwhelming desire to just get this over with. He stood, and walked out of the shadows where they could see him. “I knew it! Didn’t I tell you it would be that brat?” The man closed the distance between them in seconds; Kellan took a step back towards the wall and did his best not to flinch. He just had to be brave now, he told himself, although he felt the painful tug of a fist closing tightly around his hair and the unpleasant moisture of spit on his face before he’d fully finished the thought. “You steal from your own people! You betray the fact you are a Bajoran! You’re no better than a Cardassian!” Kellan could pick up from his captor’s tone that a ‘Cardassian’ was something undesirable but the significance was lost on him. He was sure he had been born here; this was the only world he knew. He’d only ever known other Bajorans and some humans, a gaudy looking race of people with smooth noses and brightly coloured uniforms. He was speaking before he’d even realised it; his mind had been trained to fill gaps in his knowledge. “What’s one of them?” Apparently he’d said the wrong thing. The fist tightened around his hair, causing him to cry out briefly before he was silenced by a backhand across the face that was hard enough to make him taste blood. “You’re an insult to your people! You don’t know what it means to be a Bajoran!” There was a heat in his words like nothing Kellan had ever heard. Somehow, he had drawn a primal rage from this man like none he had ever seen before. All concerns of food and knowledge were abandoned and his mental defenses crumbled: he was terrified for his life! The other man drew alongside him and grabbed his face, rough fingers squeezing Kellan’s jaw as he forced his head sideways. “He doesn’t even wear an earring. He probably doesn’t know about the Prophets, either.” “Do you?” The weak nod he gave them was honest, but not so much so as the whimper that accompanied it. He knew enough about the Prophets to know that they didn’t care about him. There was no path they wanted him to walk. They had doomed him to this desolate existence to live with barren guts and absent hope. Heril spoke fondly of them, but Kellan could not bring himself to believe in deities that would make such arbitrary condemnations. “Then pray they will look favourably on you tonight.” The boy’s answer was despondent. He knew that his spirit, as well as his body, would take a long time to recover from this night. “They won’t. They never do.” ::He was immediately grabbed and dragged through the door. They manhandled him over to the edge of a table, and forced his face down onto it. One of them grabbed his hand and stretched it out over the table’s filthy surface, pinning it into place with strength far superior than his. He shook with terror as he caught sight of something metallic and cylindrical as it was raised into the air. Before his sentence was delivered, a voice hissed into his ear, the heat of Bajoran breath making his skin crawl.:: “Then perhaps they will see fit to teach you the lesson that treason against your own people is something we will not tolerate. It will be a long time before you think about stealing from us again.” He screwed his eyes closed as the heavy metal bar sped down towards his fingers... Fleet Captain Diego Herrera Commanding Officer USS Vigilant NCC-75515 Deputy Commandant: UFOP: SB118 Academy
  13. ((Church)) ::Irina never went to church. She was raised Russian Orthodox, and after arriving in the United States her father continued to attend services, but Irina had not stepped foot in a church since leaving Russia. It just made no sense. Since her mother was killed, the whole concept of some happy and wonderful grandpa in the sky looking out for you just didn't work. Those lessons were relearned in Afghanistan and Pakistan, where Irina learned that nobody was coming to help her, and that if she was to survive, it would be only by her own wits, and no small amount of pure, blind, chaotic luck. The Taliban would kill her, or they would keep her around, entirely at their whim.:: ::The night of the riots was like a return the combat. Irina was just passing through, on her way to New York. She had stopped in Ravensville for a cup of coffee and perhaps an ice cream for Katya, and the two of them were actually inside the Plaza Caglia when the excitement started as Irina had decided to have the oil changed in her car. It was actually what led to her job.:: ::Many townspeople had taken refuge inside the restaurant/bar, and Irina, like them, had no plans to go outside or in any way get involved. When the windows broke and a group of aggressive young men entered the bar, however, all thoughts of waiting it out went right out that broken window. As the four men started trashing the place and terrorizing those inside, one of them made the mistake of looking at Katya for perhaps a second too long, and immediately found the baseball bat he had been holding ripped from his hand and then smashed into the side of his head. Irina proceeded to beat the living daylights out of all four, and then she heard the single shot from outside.:: ::She remembered dropping the bat and upending most of the tables and ordering everyone to crouch behind them, while she peered over the top with her own pistol at the ready. Fortunately, after the shot was fired, things calmed down quickly.:: ::She didn't know why she didn't just pick up her car the next morning and keep on driving, but for whatever reason, she had stayed in Ravensville. She rented a small two bedroom apartment, got a job keeping the peace at the very same bar, and since there was a large VA hospital just 40 miles away in the same county, she stayed. Now she was in a church, listening to descriptions of the police officer who died when that single shot was fired.:: Rascon: Hey, you're that bouncer who looks like Michelle Pfeiffer who kicked my [...] when I was drunk! Those were some cool moves. I totally felt them in the morning, so respect for slapping a drunken bum who should have known better back into line! Pavlova: I've got a lot more moves where those came from. ::Irina completely put aside that they were in a church, as she had no real respect for such places anyway, and played along.:: Rascon: Do you know if Plaza Caglia is open? You don't just let something like this pass you by without raising some kind of a toast. If you don't have to work then you're welcome to join us and I'll shout you for a drink. It's the least I can do after... whatever I did that made it feel like you dislocated my leg last time. Pavlova: We should open in about an hour, and I'll have vodka on ice. ::As someone started to move past him in the queue, Daz, gave them an elbow.:: Rascon: How about you, Kael? Joining us in the bar? Thomas: Err, sorry? Rascon: You've gotta have some stories to share about the big guy, right? Thomas: Oh, a few. Matthews: ::Coughing:: Hey Kael, Pavolva, nice to see you while I'm sober. ::Irina nodded, then backed away. Too many cops. She resumed her quiet stance near the exit, keeping an eye out for Leo. It was hard for him, she knew. The bullet was meant for him, and he knew it. It was a sort of guilt that all soldiers felt for those who didn't make it, worse if their loss was the reason for one's own survival. Irina knew the feeling well.:: ::A drink would help, preferably far more than just one.:: Irina Pavlova Bouncer
  14. Hey Udas! I'm Ed, I play Fleet Captain Diego Herrera and my main PNPC is an Andorian. I love the race and I'm looking forward to getting my hands on a copy of the Andorian 'episode' of the Star Trek relaunch novels (from the Star Trek: The Fall series) later in the year!
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