FltCapt. Sidney Riley

My apologies. I will move the contest forward this weekend and get us back on track. You can always continue to submit sims for the rounds.

DATES: The class began on April 4, 2011, and ended on April 11th, 2011. LIST: sb118-academy4 COMMANDING OFFICER: Fleet Captain Sidney Riley FIRST OFFICER: LtCmdr. Tallis Rhul GRADUATES: - Cole Turner - Ellen Wyatt

Voting Closes April 17, 2011 at 23:59 PM. This round of voting only qualifies one sim to be part of the final round of voting for the title of "Top Sim, 2011." REMEMBER: This is NOT a popularity contest. Vote based on MERIT, not the fact that someone is your crewmate. Any crews found "stuffing the ballots" or ratings, will be disqualified PERMANENTLY - yes, that means the whole crew.

DATES: The class began on March 28, 2011, and ended on April 3th, 2011. LIST: sb118-academy3 COMMANDING OFFICER: Captain Toni Turner FIRST OFFICER: LtCmdr. David Whale GRADUATES: - Samantha McKenzie - Julio Vannini - Zeltarus

I don't have a problem with placing them that way in the voting, if no one has any objections...

(( Mikali sh'Shar's quarters, USS Independence, 0326 hours. )) :: GREEN! Bright bright green. The brightest green light she'd ever seen. Unable to stop herself, Mikali burst out into a wild laugh. Green! It was green! :: :: Ecstatic, sh'Shar did a little jumping happy-dance on the spot, something she'd seen someone else do recently. :: sh'Shar: Go Mikki! It's your birthday! Go Mikki, it's your birthday! Uh! Uh! Uh! :: She hadn't called herself 'Mikki' since she was a child. Gleefully, the Andorian picked up a discarded PADD. She couldn't work it fast enough, fingers flying across the controls. Tap tap tap... scroll! :: :: A triumphant stab with her finger. She bought up the Andorian Reproductive Register, scrolling once more. Allika sh'Shar... Bellitaki sh'Shar... Charr Michaelson-sh'Shar ... :: :: She scrolled faster. :: :: ... Liletta sh'Shar... p'Pelli sh'Shar... too far! Back, back, back. :: :: ... Milarra sh'Shar... Mikali sh'Shar, #33419472. That was her! She opened her file, tapping way too many times in her eagerness. Back, back, back... :: :: sh'Shar, Mikali: Assigned breeding group 2384.98-J. Status: Unknown. :: sh'Shar: oO Unknown, huh? THAT'S about to change! Oo :: With a squeal of glee, sh'Shar bought up the contact details for the thaan of her breeding group. Might as well start with him. :: sh'Shar: Computer, open a subspace channel to Kitan th'Crax on Andor. Computer: Specify. sh'Shar: Cross reference Andorian Breeding Group 2384.98-J. Computer: Standby. :: sh'Shar tapped her foot impatiently. The wait seemed impossible to bear... :: :: The face of an extraordinarily handsome thaan Andorian appeared on the monitor. He looked to be in his late forties but sh'Shar thought he looked very attractive, wise and strong, with tall antenna and a full head of hair. Behind him stood a younger looking chan. The room itself... or at least, what sh'Shar could see, was wonderful. It appeared to be the central living room of an apartment- no, sh'Shar could see large windows on the edges of her vision- it was a house! Exercise equipment was visible on the far right hand side, and a string of various degrees and diplomas were hung across the spotlessly white walls at foot-spaced intervals. They were educated, it seemed, and they took pride in their accomplishments. :: :: They both wore broad, welcoming smiles. :: th'Crax: This is Kitan th'Crax, 98-J residence. How can I help you? :: Mikali gave the first genuinely happy smile she'd given in a while. Her face lit up like it had been plugged into ten thousand volts and she felt joy surging throughout her entire body. She was suddenly conscious of how filthy and unkept her room was behind her, but fortunately they wouldn't be able to see much of that from the camera angle she'd chosen. She leaned to one side to screen more of her mess out with her body. She suddenly wished she'd worn something more flattering. :: sh'Shar: I'm- I'm Mikali sh'Shar. I'm calling from the starship Independence. Hi! :: The chan behind th'Crax laughed boyishly. :: ch'Rell: Heh, hi Mikali. Wow. Starfleet's calling us? th'Crax: Did we do something wrong? :: The two males exchanged a playful, adoring grin. :: ch'Rell: She's not in uniform, I doubt it's that serious. :: th'Crax leaned in slightly, a light frown on his face. :: th'Crax: It's not about my brother, is it? He serves on the USS Eclipse, and- :: sh'Shar shook her head emphatically. She couldn't help but resist an entirely out-of-character giggle at that. :: sh'Shar: No! No no, no. It's- It's all good news. :: th'Crax raised a white eyebrow at that, his expression turning bright and cheerful again. :: th'Crax: Great, great. Omalli? We've got a call from Starfleet! Come listen! :: A zhen wandered into the frame, a long braid of white hair thrown casually over her shoulder, running down her front to her waist. She looked younger than even th'Crax and had a cooking apron on that was splattered with dough of some description. In her hand was a tray of freshly baked Andorian sugarsquares. Mikali's mouth watered. They were her favourite food as a child! Just like how her zhen used to make them... they were the ones that traditionally prepared them, but these days anyone was allowed to. Her own thaan had cooked them a few times. :: :: Home. This place was home. She belonged there, she could feel it in her every bone. :: sh'Shar: Oh my...! :: A stunned silence from her end. sh'Shar's blue hand cupped her mouth, happily lost for words. She could feel that she was crying, but they were happy, joyous tears. :: :: ch'Rell leaned his chin on the thaan's shoulder, his face concerned. :: ch'Rell: Hey, are you okay? :: Mikali swallowed, nodding and gently dabbing her cheeks with her finger, wiping them clean. :: sh'Shar: Sorry, sorry. I'm fine- I'm fine... sshh, I'm fine. :: Home... she would have a home. A family that loved her. A happy family... :: :: The zhen spoke up, her long eyelashes blinking in surprise. :: zh'Khall: Then whatever's the matter...? :: A voice came from off-screen. :: Voice: Who are you talking to? :: A fourth Andorian stepped onto the edge of the screen. She was obviously in the middle of a shower- an old fashioned water shower- but had come out at the sound of voices. Her hair, cropped short into a Terran pixie-cut, was sopping wet and there were drops of water glinting off her shoulders. She was fit... very fit. An athlete, a runner... maybe a cheerleader. Stronger than Mikali, even, and she had amazing hips. Somehow, even with her hair that short, she'd kept a great deal of her femininity- but had possession of strength and masculinity enough as well... full lips, long eyelashes, a strong jaw. Brilliant set of perfect white teeth. Strong arms. Tall antenna. She honestly could have found work as a model. :: :: A shen. :: sh'Shar: oO Oh no- no...! Oo :: zh'Khall, the zhen, casually slipped her hand around the shen's waist, leaning into her. The shen returned the gesture, giving zh'Khall a fond kiss on the cheek. Not like you'd give a parent, not like you'd give a friend... one you'd give a lover. :: sh'Nala: Who's this, babe? :: The shen's feminine, yet amazingly strong voice came through Mikali's speakers like a hammer blow to her heart. :: :: zh'Khall smiled at sh'Nala fondly. :: zh'Khall: Hey, Fellia. You didn't have to stop your shower... it's Mikali sh'Shar, she's a Starfleet officer. We don't know why she was contacting us... we were just about to find out... :: Fellia... a pretty name. Mikali did her absolute best to maintain her composure, but her voice quivered. The shen was much prettier than her, younger, fitter, smarter... better. :: :: They were all so perfect. Mikali saw the friendship and love in all their eyes- they were a *team*... :: sh'Shar: ... no, sorry, wrong number. :: The four exchanged a look. Confusion, concern... :: :: Mikali could tell they were a union. A perfect union. They were all handsome, attractive, they felt for each other- they laughed and joked, they had a clean house, nice food, luxuries like a water shower... they were rich, probably, not that such things mattered these days. Educated and smart, judging by the huge number of qualifications that decorated the walls of their home. A happy family. They took care of themselves, they ate right and worked out, had good genes. They would make amazing parents and raise the cutest, smartest, bravest little kids- kids who would be pillars of Andorian society. Become leaders, teachers, diplomats... one or two would probably enter Starfleet. :: :: All without her. :: ch'Rell: Are you sure...? :: sh'Shar's voice was a quiet, absent mumble. :: sh'Shar: ... 'm sorry I bothered you... sh'Nala: Wai- :: Mikali closed the connection. The Starfleet logo appeared on her screen instantly, floating in a black empty sea. :: :: Her hands shook. First a light tremor, building to a violent shake. With a roar sh'Shar ripped the computer display from the desk and hurled it against the bulkhead. It shattered into a million different pieces, each tinkering quietly as they found their rest on the metal deck of the starship. Panting, enraged at a universe that had done this to her, Mikali just stared at the debris. :: sh'Shar's Demons: oO ... well. You knew this was going to happen... but you just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? Had to find out for yourself. Well, now you know. Oo :: She'd been replaced. :: ----- PNPC Mikali "Banshee" sh'Shar FA-150 Pilot USS Independence-A As simmed by, Lt (jg) Alleran Tan CAG USS Independence-A

(( OOC: This takes place after the Truth or Dare, the night after the wedding reception. )) (( Mikali sh'Shar's quarters, USS Independence, 0321 hours. )) :: The words floated in and out of her head like the voices of a ghost. Flashes and figments of the past, all coalescing into a cascade of imagery that passed by in a blur. Mikali tried to sleep but the thoughts kept her awake, sprawled out like a starfish on her entirely unmade bed, her left hand wrapped around... ... she knew what it was. The room was dark, with only faint lighting coming from the large window out to space. Dimly she heard the remembered voice of Alex Somers, trying to console her. :: :: "... little or no comfort, but I am of the belief that if you are meant to find a partner, and have offspring, you will. But I am sorry for what you had to give up..." :: :: Mikali sighed slowly, placing her empty hand on her abdomen. If it were just a matter of finding one partner she could deal with that. One was a binary state... you had either found them, or you hadn't. But Mikali needed three... a thaan, a chan and a zhen. They all had to get along, to like each other, to be willing to all bond... to make a child. A child she would carry for two months, then transplant into the zhen who would carry it to adulthood. The breeding group needed four in total and they needed to get along... :: :: They had to tolerate her, something that seemed impossible. :: :: Mikali was a broken bird. Damaged and flawed. Fit only for discarding... for fighting endless battles, eventually being killed out here, stuffed into a torpedo tube and blasted away like rubbish. That's what her future held for her. :: :: Now her own voice echoed in her head, pointing out simple truths. :: :: "... by age 30 I'll be menopausal. If it's not already too late, that is..." :: :: Was it too late? Was there even a decision to make anymore? :: :: The imagined, smiling forms of the women who'd attended ladies night floated in her mind, smiling and encouraging. :: Imaginary Riley: oO You can do it, sh'Shar! Oo Imaginary K. Brice: oO Go on! Oo Imaginary A. Somers: oO I believe in you- we're friends, right? Oo :: Mikali, half asleep, knew that she had the answer in her left hand. The one that remained a fist, clutching around the answer. A simple test, contained in a device very similar to a regular hypospray. She could just touch it to her muscle, press the big wide 'Go' button, withdraw a little of her cobalt-blue blood and test it. The answer would be displayed instantly. There wasn't even a wait time. :: :: Hours ago she had read over the manual with trembling hands. :: :: "Upon application, the unlit bar at the top of the device will glow. The colour of the bar determines the fertility of the shen. A bar that is green indicates a period of fertility. A bar that is red indicates prepubescence or menopause. If you were expecting a green bar but instead see a red one, see a qualified gynecologist specialized in Andorian physiology immediately." :: It was that simple. Green for yes, red for no. :: :: Bolstered by her experience at the Truth and Dare party, she'd replicated the device. Now she'd been laying there for so long, unable to complete this simple action. Worrying for hours, stressing herself, crying... :: :: sh'Shar would never admit it to anyone, but she cried. Cried and cried, imagining the bonding group she never met. They would have moved on... she was too old. Too old to be be a part of the bonding. Besides, she was a bad person in every way someone COULD be bad. Bad to her friends, bad to her enemies, bad to her subordinates and superiors alike, bad to perfect strangers. :: :: Bad for the ship. What kind of damage would she do to a child? :: sh'Shar: oO Why don't you just press the [...] button and find out if any of this is worth worrying about? Oo :: It was impossible. She hadn't even considered it before today... she didn't care less. In fact, she wanted it all to be over so she wouldn't have to even entertain the *thought* of children. Now her crew... :: :: ... her friends... :: :: ... had inspired her to rekindle lost dreams. But she still couldn't do it. :: :: Mikali rolled onto her side, then slowly climbed back to her feet. She shuffled over to her replicator, placing the device inside with a soft *clink*. She stared at it, resting on the tray, unused. :: sh'Shar: oO Herein lies the first answer to the questions you've been kicking around in that stupid blue skull of yours all night, and you're just going to quit and give up? Are you really that spineless? Oo :: Turns out she was. :: sh'Shar: Computer, recl-... :: She couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence, choking half way through. :: Computer: Restate request. sh'Shar: FRAK IT! :: Snarling, sh'Shar snatched it out of the tray and pressed it against her arm. Her thumb flew to the button located on the side of the device, depressing it before she had any time to reconsider what she was doing. :: :: Bright green light flooded the dark of her quarters. :: TBC... ----- PNPC Mikali "Banshee" sh'Shar FA-150 Maul Pilot USS Independence-A As simmed by, Lt (jg) Alleran Tan CAG USS Independence-A

Voting Closes April 3, 2011 at 23:59 PM. This round of voting only qualifies one sim to be part of the final round of voting for the title of "Top Sim, 2011." REMEMBER: This is NOT a popularity contest. Vote based on MERIT, not the fact that someone is your crewmate. Any crews found "stuffing the ballots" or ratings, will be disqualified PERMANENTLY - yes, that means the whole crew.

Voting Closes April 3, 2011 at 23:59 PM. This round of voting only qualifies one sim to be part of the final round of voting for the title of "Top Sim, 2011." REMEMBER: This is NOT a popularity contest. Vote based on MERIT, not the fact that someone is your crewmate. Any crews found "stuffing the ballots" or ratings, will be disqualified PERMANENTLY - yes, that means the whole crew.

DATES: The class began on March 7, 2011, and ended on March 14th, 2011. LIST: sb118-academy4 COMMANDING OFFICER: Fleet Captain Sidney Riley FIRST OFFICER: LtCmdr. Tallis Rhul GRADUATES: - Re'Maru - Renae Sullivan

DATES: The class began on February 21, 2011, and ended on March 3, 2011. LIST: sb118-academy2 COMMANDING OFFICER: LtCmdr. William Rogers FIRST OFFICER: LtCmdr. Marcus Dickens NEW MEMBERS: - Yanell Delwyn

Voting closes March 6, 2011 at 23:59pm. This round of voting only qualifies one sim to be part of the final round of voting for the title of "Top Sim, 2011." REMEMBER: This is NOT a popularity contest. Vote based on MERIT, not the fact that someone is your crewmate. Any crews found "stuffing the ballots" or ratings, will be disqualified PERMANENTLY - yes, that means the whole crew.