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Renos

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Everything posted by Renos

  1. ((Bridge, Uss - Darwin)) Brell: =/\= I only have one other thing to say. This has destroyed your legacy and how we will all look at you in our minds. I can only think to ask one other thing, was there a point ever you thought of turning on your orders and begging the captain to shelter you instead? =/\= Iy: ::the J'naii looked contrite:: =/\= There is no point in lying. No, I was always steadfast in my ideals, in my mission to treat Renos. However, I never wanted nem to suffer through the process. Though ne has, it was against my wishes, and whatever regret I have is that I did not do more, sooner, to ease the pains Renos had to endure at the hands of my associate. I did learn to value the colleagues I had on the Darwin, and never wished any of you any harm either. If Renos had only been a true J'naii, there would have been no issue with the way nir career in Starfleet has progressed. Had ne willingly agreed to treatment, I might have even treated nem and released nem back to you in order to fulfill nir destiny in Starfleet as a reformed J'naii. I only hope that the essence of Renos hasn't been lost in this whole unfortunate ordeal. =/\= ::He stood there looking at the screen, again glad he could not aim a torpedo at nir ship even knowing ne was going to be ripped apart by the sheer gravimetric forces of that could either go quick or slow according to some theories.:: ::Things suddenly seemed different not right though he could not put his finger on, when he looked down and saw something his fingers did lay on. He looked about he wasn't at the ops console looking at Iy on the main viewscreen. He was sitting at the rear of the bridge looking at the smug traitor to them in a small subspace comm window on his screen. Ne had just said all that and was now laughing at him for thinking there was more to nim than J’naii brainwashing. That laughing seemed to ring all about him as if their were a dozen Iys all around him. First feeling overwhelmed by them suddenly he felt grim resolute and smirked as if he had just said something he thought was terribly funny. He tapped on those tempting buttons in front of him and launched all of the Darwin’s arsenal of torpedoes at the J’naii.:: Brell: How about now Iy? ::Laughing just as the J’naii had moments before.:: ::Just as suddenly he was now Iy on the that ship caught between two stars, the smells of charged high energy particle discharges meeting flesh hung in the air. Explosions echoed through the small ship. Remembering ne had just or Brell had just shot torpedoes at nim, ne looked down at the console. But there were none this time time just Traenor’s face saying.:: Traenor: =/\= Goodbye, Iy. =/\= ::And the rest of their faces ne had spent so much time with staring at nim, all heartbroken and betrayed until it came nothing but a blank screen. Then ne was alone. Didn’t they understand ne only was trying to help Renos be who ne was really supposed to be. That was clear as was all the justifications for doing so in nir mind.:: ::Suddenly he was himself again sitting at the ops console watching the sensor data of the the J’naii ship succumbing to it’s fate. He looked up towards the center of the bridge just as he remembered only instead of the command center stood Iy in nir recruits uniform, neither smiling or scowling as always. Suddenly Nir feet were sucked up toward the ceiling stretched as if made of seaweed noodles elongating more and more. Ne screamed and Brell could not move as if he were frozen. Ne grabbed at the ground shrieking as nir body was stretched into a stand sucked through an invisible tiny hole bit by bit.:: ((Brell’s Family Quarters, Deck 6, Uss Darwin-A)) ::He awoke in cold sweat and breathing heavily. The husky Bolain sat up and tossed off his dampened blanket, his mind racing with the dark images of the dream he just had. The events of that day were weighing on him more than he expected. As much as he was glad they were not aboard he wished he could check in on the twins right now. Their little blue faces made this whole crazy galaxy they lived in seem worth all the good that never seems to outweigh the bad.:: Brell: Computer. time? Computer: The time is 01:23 hours. ::He groaned then swung his legs over the edge of the bed and decided to just stay awake for awhile. Standing with a tired grunt he wished he had not tried to sleep at all. He walked into the twin’s empty room, looking down at the crib and toys the family kept here versus their apartment on unity. Without the two infants in it the room seemed large and empty.:: Brell: oO Will be there with them soon. Oo :: He went into the sitting room the light from the seaweed tank in the small kitchen filled the room eerie greenish blue light. Normally this reminded him of home but right now it only reminded him of how empty his quarters were. The Bolian though a long serving member of Starfleet did not like to be alone. It had been easier for him in his younger days before he had family of his own. No this simply would not do, he knew he needed to seek out some company even if it was a longshot anyone he would know was awake at this hour. After a sonic shower and change into fresh clothing he set off for Natural Selections.:: =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= Lt. Brell, Systems Specialist, Uss Darwin, NCC-99312-A PotW Co-Facilitator - Training Team - Graphics Team E239109B10 =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=
  2. I remember that moment too. XD haha! As for my characters they all have something from me in them, it's usually something different and often I don't even realise what it is until after playing them a while. I often create character to explore a specific idea of concept, even my first PC Evanna Blackwood had one - I just didn't have the skill at that time to write about it as skillfully as I could now. For example: * Dominic Gray was my experiment with a corporate psychopath. No one ever knew he was a psychopath IC and the only ones that ever found out OOC did because I told them about it. That experiment was avery interesting and went more or less how I thought it would. He is likely to get taken off the shelf in the future. * Percival Maxwell was only meant to be a shot shot deal just to inject some humour into a serious plot we were doing on the Avandar but was such a hoot to play and got such a good reaction I ended up keeping him around and borrowing some traits from him to create my PC Reinard down the line. * Renos is of course my current PC and a member of an androgynous race who is genderfluid (something that is deeply frowned upon in J'naii society). Rather than be subjected to Psychotectic Treatment ne fled to the Federation and has lived a pretty successful life - too much so perhaps as the bounty hunters have finally caught up with nem.
  3. ((Surface, Planet PR-652)) ::It was oh so dark, and eerily quiet. Maxwell Traenor stood alone among the trees, lost. He had abandoned Kurt Logan to a drone horde, had abandoned Brell and Randal Shayne inside the weapons installation, and despite his efforts to get to the shuttle to rescue them, he was now helplessly lost.:: ::A breeze started up, whispering through the branches and brambles that reached their skeletal finger out to rake his flesh, murmuring secrets that hovered just on the edge of comprehension. His imagination heard the voices of Logan, Shayne, and Brell in those whispers, crying out in terror and dismay over his betrayal and abandonment. Frustrated and frightened, Maxwell shook his head to clear the voices and stared wide-eyed and unseeing all around in the pitch blackness.:: Shayne: Now you want to leave it here on this rock. ::Ringing out clear and loud as the peal from a bell, the helmsman's voice reached Maxwell's ears and caused him to whip around. Where before he was blind, now he saw the clearing opening up before him in an ethereal light. Highlighted in the center of the clearing was Randal, with a petite Borg drone beside him. Randal had his arm draped over the shoulders of the drone. Protective, perhaps? But his scowl said otherwise.:: Traenor: Lieutenant! You escaped the structure! Where is Brell? Shayne: I understand your concerns, sir. ::In Shayne's free hand was a large dagger, glinting in the ethereal light. But Maxwell paid it no heed. Eyes agog, he was staring at the drone. Beneath all the Borg implants, despite the grey skin, the drone was unmistakable. It was his niece.:: Traenor: Eden?! Eden, is that you? What happened to you? ::He made to run forward, sweep up his beloved niece and cradle her, comfort her and smooth her patchy hair despite his own anguish, and promise to do everything in his power, turn the universe inside out, to fix her and restore her and to...save her. But Shayne brandished the dagger menacingly, waving him off, then brought it up to Borg Eden's throat.:: Shayne: ::sarcastically:: There's too much risk. The drone stays behind. Prepare for transport. Traenor out. Borg Eden: Afraid! We...am...I...are...We are afraid of I. And I are afraid of We! Make it stop! Traenor: ::failed attempt to placate:: Hush, Eden! Yes, I will make it stop! ::pleadingly to Shayne:: I was wrong, Randal. That was not the right choice. But we can fix this! I have changed my mind, and we will save her! Brell: She is unstable. Sir. ::The Bolian officer had appeared off his left shoulder, and his quiet words made Maxwell jump. He turned, begging to Brell, trying to impress on him the veracity of his will and desperate desire to save his niece.:: Traenor: Please, Brell, please, help me convince Randal to spare her! Brell:: Move her to one of the other camps. That way she will be... *spared*! ::Brell broke out into malicious laughter, as if he had just said the most ridiculous, hilarious, patently untrue thing in the world. Tears starting to fall, Maxwell made to move towards Shayne again, but with a snarl he jerked the dagger ever closer to Borg Eden's throat, dimpling the tender skin there.:: Shayne: ::mockingly:: Is the drone independent? Are you absolutely certain it cannot and will not pose any risk to this shuttle or the Darwin? Traenor: Yes, yes, a million times yes! I will forfeit my life if you just spare my dear Eden! Logan: They're not part of the collective, Commander. ::Now Kurt was here too, appearing off his right shoulder. Maxwell turned his pleading gaze to the Security officer, knowing that the man was reasonable and sympathetic and amenable to his guidance. His eyes, his expression, his posture, his very soul pleaded to Kurt to assist him in saving his niece. Slowly shaking his head in the negative, Logan pointed at Borg Eden with his phaser rifle.:: Logan: ::slow, with finality:: Close the hatch. ::As if it were a pre-determined prompt, Shayne affected a ghoulish grin and drew the dagger deep and clean across its target. Borg Eden's one remaining eye shot open wide, and a pathetic gurgling voice issued forth as the skin of her face turned from a mottled grey to a pallid white.:: Borg Eden: Help. We are afraid of I. And I are afraid of We!... Help... ::And then she was gone.:: ::Traenor fell to his knees, howling his grief and anger for all the cosmos to hear, while the three men of his Away team stared at him impassively. Red-rimmed and tear-filled eyes glared at Shayne as Maxwell balled his hands into impotent fists.:: Traenor: You killed her! YOU KILLED HER! I KILLED HER! I... I killed her? I killed her. Shayne: ::with a simple smile:: Well, no, sir, not as such. But I think that she's okay now. Traenor: NO!!! ((Personal Quarters, Deck 6 - USS Darwin-A)) Traenor: NO!!! ::Maxwell flung himself to an upright seated position in his bed, breath heaving heavily and heart beating a staccato arrhythmia fit to burst in his chest. Drenched in a cold sweat, it took a moment for his vision to stop swimming, and he saw Barque perched beside him in a submissive crouch. The poor dog gave an uncertain whine, licking his master's arm in an attempt to calm the obviously agitated man.:: Traenor: ::voice slurred from exhaustion and emotion:: S'okay, Barque, s'okay, boy. Just another bad dream. ::Maxwell absently patted Barque, before rubbing his eyes vigorously. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in days, and he was absolutely bushed. Nightmares had plagued him since the conclusion of the last mission, and though he had thought they would abate after a few nights, they were actually worsening. He wanted to lie back down and try to sleep again, but to do so would only invite more bad dreams, and besides, they had arrived back at Outpost Unity. Today, Renos was welcoming esteemed guests from the Alpha Quadrant, and Maxwell needed to prepare for his part in hosting them. But, there was two things that he needed to take care of, that he could not afford to put off any further.:: Traenor: Computer, prepare a message, translate into text, and send to Sickbay. Commander Traenor is requesting a surgery date to finally correct a persistent knee injury, all the details are in my medical file. Please advise me of an appropriate time. Sign and send. ::big pause:: And computer, prepare a second message, translate into text, and send to Mr. Stennes' office. Commander Traenor is requesting a counseling consult. Events of the previous mission have been causing me adverse psychological effects. I fear you'll need to set aside a couple appointment blocks please, at your earliest convenience. Sign and send. LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor - First Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A Top Sims Contest Facilitator =/\= Graphic Contest Taskforce A239111MT0
  4. ((SSC Deimos Station, orbiting Deimos, Sol system - stardate 239303.11)) ::It was 0758 hours and Lieutenant Commander Jonathan "Bullseye" Rusk walked down the corridor of Starfleet Starfighter Command’s primary orbital facility in the Sol system, Deimos Station. The huge space station orbited the smaller moon of Mars, and housed the majority of the pilots and fighters in the system. It was not only used for defense, but for training of pilots, and R&D and maintenance of fighters.:: ::He had walked this corridor everyday for the last two and a half years, so now the spectacular view of Mars out of the transparent aluminum hull wall to his left didn’t even register in his brain. He reached his destination, the Pilots' Briefing room, and the doors swished open and closed around him. The lighting was a little darker in here, and the noise level was certainly higher. The assembled pilots were chatting amongst themselves while they waited for Rusk to arrive. He strode to the front dais and set his assignment PADD down on the podium in front of him. He looked up at the assembled group. Nova Burn, the best fighter pilots in the quadrant.:: ::He waited patiently at the podium for the room full of Starfleet pilots to settle down a bit before he started his briefing. This briefing was going to be a little different from what they were used to. Normally these TRBs (Tactical Readiness Briefings) were light and full of joking around while still covering relatively serious topics. Teasing each other about their flying capabilities while discussing a CAP (Combat Air Patrol) was very routine, and not even discouraged by the pilots' senior officers.:: ::Today's briefing was going to be a little different, though. Today was going to hold a momentous announcement...at least for the pilots in the briefing room, including himself. He cleared his throat. The thirty-two pilots assembled in front of him slowly stopped goofing around and turned to face him.:: Bullseye: Thank you. We have a couple of items on the agenda today. First off, once again the Mars Defence Perimeter has officially requested that our pilots refrain from high speed manoeuvres within their airspace without prior authorization. I believe, Streak, that is directed towards you. ::There was a general outburst of laughter and agreement. A twenty-something human male with a blonde buzz-cut had a huge smile on his face.:: Streak: Sorry, boss. It won't happen again. ::Rusk waited for the laughter to die down before continuing. He knew the next piece of news was also going to elicit an outburst from the pilots assembled in front of him. However, it was not going to be a jovial one, but one of resentment and discontent.:: Bullseye: If I may continue? Next up is a reassignment. ::The collective groan.:: Juno: For whom, commander? Bullseye: (pausing) For all of us. PILOTS: “What?” “To Where?” “Whose bright idea...” Bullseye: If I May?! ::waiting for the clammer to subside:: Starfleet has a new outpost that’s going to need our protection. Kaali: Where this time? Bullseye: Pouiyeog Region. ::pause:: Delta Quadrant. ::There were more groans from the pilots. The Delta Quadrant was far from everyone’s home. Many of the pilots were human, and from Earth. Being in the Sol system allowed them the comfort of seeing their families. And even those not from Earth were usually close enough to their home systems. Bullseye: We’ll be ferried there by a Cutlass class, the USS Avalon. We have been chosen to serve as the senior fighter squadron on the outpost, and to mentor and train other Starfleet and non-Starfleet personnel, to whip them into an elite fighter wing. ::One of the pilots from the back of the briefing room piped up.:: Geech: Or at least to keep them from getting themselves killed, right CAG? ::The raucous laughter returned to the assembly. Even Rusk had to smile. Geech was considered the joker of the wing, a role he thought he excelled at. Often he did, but sometimes he tried the humor angle at inappropriate times. He’d almost been written up for insubordination on more than one occasion that Rusk had needed to smooth over.:: Frosty: What’s the mission profile, sir? ::Finally. The serious question. And leave it to one of the most naturally gifted pilots Rusk had ever seen. Francis “Frosty” Hilton was able to do things with a fighter that most pilots could only dream of. His kill ratio was currently the highest in Starfleet fighter pilot history, and he had made full Lieutenant by the tender age of 21. Frosty liked to have fun as much as the next guy. Just inquire about his bar tabs and one-night stands. But when it came to his job, he could have tunnel vision. His focus was incredible. Which was why Rusk had singled him out to be in charge of the flight training. Frosty just didn’t know that yet.:: Bullseye: It’s not a unique situation, but you’ll all find the details interesting. Outpost Unity is built on the surface of a Dyson Sphere. Goldrush: A what-now? Sparkle: A Dyson Sphere. A massive, usually hollow sphere whose diameter is the size of a planetary orbit. Takes huge resources to build and a very advanced technology. Ballista: At least someone was paying attention in astronomy class. ::More laughter from the group.:: Bullseye: Quiet down please. ::pause:: Thank you. The Outpost has two primary goals. The first is to study the alien culture and tech that built the sphere. The second is to establish a forward base in the Delta Quadrant to further political relations with the friendlies there. As such, the outpost is jointly run and occupied by Federation and friendlies. The pilots that will be filling out the rest of the wing will be some Starfleet, and some friendlies. Frosty: Will they, at least, be pilots? Bullseye: With the friendlies? We’ve requested that. But they’ll still need some flight time in our birds to get acclimated. From Starfleet? Probably not... ::Another collective groan from the assembled.:: Bullseye: ...with a notable exception. ::The group quieted to hear the news. This had been a major score, in Rusk’s opinion.:: Bullseye: Starfleet has pulled Lieutenant “Buck” Rogers out of retirement. Turnstyle: He retired? Gopher: Again? Geech: Third time’s the charm, right? Bullseye: Seeing as how there are known unfriendlies in the region, I’ve decided to split us up. We’ve been given three squadrons of Crossbows, two squadrons of Lancers, and our squadron of Hawkeyes. Our pilots and TSOs will fill half the Hawkeyes, and you’ll train to fill the other half. We’ll also fill the first squadron of Crossbows, take the principles of the second and train wingmen, and Lieutenant Rogers and trainees will fill the third. Sparkle, you’ll take a squadron of trainees to fill one Lancer group, with Amazon as your wing, and Sweetheart, you’ll take trainees to fill the other Lancer group. Pharaoh will be your wing. Questions? Trigger: Who are the unfriendlies? Bullseye: The Numiri. You’ll get a full briefing on board the Avalon. She should arrive at the outpost in about a month, so there’ll be lots of time to prep. We ship out in 72 hours. Pack it up and kiss your mommies goodbye. Dismissed. --------------------------- as presented by Lt. Cmdr. Varaan Chief Engineering Officer USS Darwin-A, NCC-99312-A Serial: V237810V10
  5. ((Cybenetics lab 2, Deck 7, USS Darwin-A)):: Valdivia observed the works, PADD in hand, trying at the same time to draw some conclusions from all of it and to avoid jumping into them without enough information. ::Valdivia: Chief science officer log, supplemental. Stardate 239304.10. As reported, our last mission has brought some new insight into the Borg, but also some moral situations that are not easy to address. After the cloud of nanites requested asylum, the away teams, amongst other things, recovered what looked like the machine used to create said nanites. After some study, the nanites are not simply Borg nanoprobes but an evolved version of that. After gaining sentience, they decided to flee the Borg, and the drones tried to stop them, leading to the current situation. :: Valdivia sighed, thinking how to continue. A scientist approached with a new PADD and Valdivia checked it. The blueprints of the machine, as read by the sensors in the cybernetics lab. They confirmed what they thought about the nanites. :: Valdivia: Let it be known that the morality of this whole situation leaves me uneasy. I know these are the Borg, but let's imagine for a moment that they weren't. Let's imagine we found a humanoid species whose immune systems gained sentience and the means to leave, and they went on a strike. The two parties requested Starfleet help. :: He wasn't sure where he was going with this, but it had been bugging him, He mentioned it to Renos, and ne was open to discussion, but the borg drones attacking them were a bit more closed to it. :: Valdivia: Now let's see, the immune system is now a sentient being, and they have every right to feel enslaved. So their request for asylum makes sense. On the other hand, granting it could probably end with the humanoid species completely extinct. So... what should Starfleet do? I have no idea. And, does the fact that the humanoid race happens to be one of the most feared mass murderers in the galaxy change any of this? No idea, either. :: He looked up at the force fields. A scientist and an engineer worked on the machine while a total of five people, Valdivia included, checked from outside for safety and support. Currenly the engineer looked puzzled at a commbadge he had just found inside the machine. :: Valdivia: Oh, that's mine. I used it to help get a transporter lock on the machine. :: He noticed several sets of eyes aimed at his chest. :: Valdivia: I... happened to acquire a new one. Anyway, pass it through screening to check it's safe before I take it back. :: The few seconds of surprise passed and everyone returned to work. :: Valdivia: Computer, erase last sentences and resume recording. The morality problem even gets worse. As said, this humanoid race, namely the borg, are one of the most feared and dangerous species in the galaxy. But we theorize these new nanites have the ability to modify other nanoprobes to the new model (side note: we believe that to be the reason they left the whole Borg group and not just a few selected drones. The intact ones were probably isolated at the moment). Therefore, if a handful of these nanites were to make it back to the Collective... would it be considered genocyde, poetic justice, or just self defense? Are these nanites to be considered a biological weapon of the ones we so harshly ban? I have no answers to any of these questions. And it does not fall on me to answer them. :: Reflecting, several silent seconds passed and he walked around the forcefield looking at his people work. :: Valdivia: Anyway, back to the report. The machine we found. Computer, record the following part in a secondary file and attach it to Fleet Captain Renos as a report. :: He cleared his throat, adding a more formal and scientific tone. :: Valdivia: Preliminary report. As the machine arrived to Cybernetics lab 2 at 1614 hours, it was set behind two level ten forcefields to eliminate the possibility of any kind of borg nanites, be it nanoprobes or building nanites, to be still present within the machine and invade the Darwin. However, scans did not detect any such nanotechnology and it was deemed safe to work with. It stayed behind the forcefields nonetheless. The scans confirmed field theories that it is a machine used to build nanoprobes. However, it was clearly modified on site, as some of the pieces have a higher concentration of germanium that the rest, which is also present in the planets soil. These modifications are coherent with the new model of nanoprobes, or should we say just nanites, present in the sentient cloud. That makes the conclusion that the Borg willingly modified them take force. The problem is, why? The facts are, these modifications basically cross a nanoprobe and a building nanite, with increased communications capacity. And nearly twice the size, although that's still viable through the systems of most humanoid species. Now, wild guess. The Borg needed building nanites with the adaptability of nanoprobes. Building nanites supposedly follow plans, while nanoprobes must adapt to individual systems. They needed the building nanites to improvise. To be able to rebuild the vinculum from nearly scratch. They needed CREATIVITY. And that sparked the new intelligence on the nanites. :: That all made sense, although it would still have to be confirmed. But some preliminary info was needed if they were to take a decision on the current situation. :: Valdivia: However, there is a missing spark. According to all I know of robotics, this shouldn't be enough to give place to sentience. I must admit my defeat in that area, and I hope that whoever looks at it further can find an explanation. I will look further in the meantime. End of log. Send report to Renos. :: After that Valdivia, feeling a bit frustrated, nodded at the people working on it and left the room. He needed some rest before coming back to it. :: TAG Lieutenant John Valdivia - Chief Science Officer - USS Darwin NCC-99312-A Department of Veteran Affairs D238701JV0
  6. Renos

    Round 7 Praxo, "Aftermath"

    ((Almost a month back, Talaxian Shuttlecraft, crashed on the sphere)) ::It might sound like one of Praxos usual exaggerations, but he actually had never lost a shuttle or any other craft due to an accident. Sure there were more close calls that one could count, and none of the Talaxian’s craft was decommissioned without dints and scratches, and it preyed on his ego that he not even knew what had happened.:: ::He reached out with his right hand to open the details on the most concerning alert on the touchscreen, when a horrible sting of burning pain filled his whole arm.:: Praxo: Ouch! ::The universal translator wasn’t able to translate the following curse:: I guess my arm is broken. Good thing we have a Doctor on board. ::Opening the message with his other hand:: But we have more pestering problems. The structural integrity field will hold this pile of junk together for another 20 minutes or so. You can never tell with that system. ::Praxo had to sit down as the pain became overwhelming:: Any suggestions? Shayne: I'd suggest getting out of this shuttle. Praxo: oO That sounds like a good idea Oo Manius: I need a doctor and I’m not the only one. Let’s beam out of here, there’s nothing more we can do. The Frenix can recover the shuttle once we’re gone. Shayne: I second the motion. :: Looking at his two students, or now ex-students, Praxo realised that he got away with the least serious injuries, notwithstanding the fact that he was not sitting on a chair while the crash had happened.:: Praxo: Go ahead, get us out of here. Manius: =/\= Lieutenant Manius to the Darwin. Three to beam up. Please advice the Frenix to receive Praxo and then beam him there. Beam myself and Shayne to the Darwin’s sickbay. I have potential back injuries to please ensure I am immobilised. =/\= Icavoc: =/\= Got that Todd Manius. Please stand by for transport. =/\= ::Praxo prepared himself to be beamed over. He later didn’t remember if he was beamed to the Darwin first and then to the Frenix or if they sent him directly to the Talaxian ship, but he ended up there, receiving the appropriate treatment for a broken arm.:: ((Present day, Government Office Building, Talax II)) ::Praxo was searching his way through what seemed like kilometers of corridors full of busy people, or people who pretended to be busy. He was invited for another hearing, presumably the last one, where the results on the investigation of the shuttle accident were supposed to be announced.:: ::While the incident had summoned a huge interest of the planetary media, as soon as every so called expert was interviewed and every theory was proposed and falsified again, it was obvious that there was nothing to gain from the story anymore. The press moved on to the next shocker and the still ongoing meetings could be hold in much smaller conference rooms.:: ::Some individuals tried to make this a major issue that would impact the relationship between the Federation and the Talaxians dramatically. But as most diplomats are more reasonable than lurid headlines and even the people themselves showed a surprising sense for the truth, those attempts weren’t particularly successful, and headlines like „Federation officers injured while inspecting Talaxian craft - Diplomatic relations endangered“ were exchanged with „Talaxian technology gets cut from the plans - Do they want us off THEIR outpost?“.:: ::Praxo was pleased to see that the committee stayed reasonable as well and quickly discovered that there in fact was no evidence for pilot errors, nor instruction failures on his part.:: ::When he finally entered the room, he found the same friendly atmosphere that prevailed since the cameras and the reporters were gone. It was a working-together, everybody was here to resolve the mystery and to make sure that something like this does not happen again, rather than blaming someone. Clearly, the spirit of the Federation had influenced this council already.:: ::Normally, Praxo found these meetings quite a nuisance, since nothing new was announced time and time again, but this one, he was looking forward to. It served as the perfect excuse for not attending the opening ceremony on the outpost, where he inevitably would have met Shayne and Manius again. He cared for them, since he felt he was partly responsible, and tried to keep track of their well being as good as possible, but he’d rather not confront himself with them.:: Chairwoman: ::Knocking on the table:: Good evening, Ladies and Gentleman. Thank you for attending this hearing, even though some of you might had to decline an invitation to another big event for this. ::As this meeting was not at all mandatory to attend, Praxo was quite sure that everybody who wants to go to the ceremony was at the ceremony, except the chairwoman herself, maybe.:: Chairwoman: So let us make this quick. I want to catch the speech of Madame Brixon. Mr Rix, head of R&D at TalaxTwo Space Industries for those of you who don’t know him, will present the report of the internal investigation of said incident. Rix: Thank you, Madam. ::A quite short man pushed back his seat and walked to the head of the conference table. Then he was setting up some slides on the view screen that should support his findings, but they were really badly made and nobody actually looked on them.:: Rix: After a thorough analysis of the data of the flight recorder as well as a examination of the crash site and the wreck, we came to the following conclusion: The shuttle crashed after a failure of four port side thrusters. They were completely destroyed when the shuttle entered the hole, but we believe they were technically functioning correct. Praxo: oO But they weren’t, or else we wouldn’t be here… Oo Rix: They didn’t fire because of a software bug that was introduced in the most recent update that included the CCI, aehm, the Custom Control Interface. It is based on the Federation LCARS and allows the pilot to arrange the controls of the main flight display according to his own preferences. The error occurs only when the exact layout is used, that unfortunately was used during the crush. Control inputs were not routed to the right hardware components, which inevitably led to a loss of control. We of course have already automatically disabled the feature on all craft with the current update and working on a solution for the problem. Chairwoman: Thank you, Mr Rix. ::Although no-one was blaming the man for what had happened, he returned to his seat like a beaten dog. Praxo wouldn’t be surprised if he had just presented the finding that would make him loose his job, or at least his position.:: Chairwoman: I think we owe TTSI for their honesty in this report. I am asking now our independent review board for their take on these findings. ::Another man stood up and took the place from Mr Rix.:: Man: Thank you, Madame, Mr Rix. We found no evidence that TalaxTwo Space Industries has tampered with their report. We also agree that the software was not released prematurely, although the release process was clearly expedited to finish it in time for the exact flight that led to disaster. ::A few other people got the chance to speak afterwards, but Praxo didn’t follow them. He was quite angry, since a software bug in a, in his opinion, rather useless system caused the accident that ended his tutoring program, and not only injured himself, but also two Federation officers who had absolutely nothing to do with all that. Not to say that one of them was someone Praxo had high respect for.:: ::Later, even Praxo himself was asked for some words to wrap everything up, but he for once thankfully declined an offer to speak in front of an eager audience. When everybody was leaving, he approached the chairwoman.:: Praxo: Madam, excuse me, Madam! Did you hear anything new about the condition of Mr Manius. Chairwoman: Ah, Mr Praxo. You know as good as I do that the Federation has policies that forbid sharing the status of patients. All I know is that Mr Manius is still in medical care. ::It was the same response as always. He went home to his apartment near the main space port of the planet as quickly as possible. His wife wasn’t there, as well as all of the children that were still living at home. So Praxo had time to think about everything that had happened since that faithful day.:: ::He knew from the first day on that it wasn’t his fault, and he also strongly doubted that it was the one of Mr Shayne who was at the helm at the time. It wasn’t his nature to feel guilty for something he wasn’t responsible for, but he still felt bad about it, mainly because his praises of the technology that later would fail them completely.:: ::The pilot exchange program was obviously cut and he picked his old work up, being a shuttle pilot for all sorts of delivery, which at this point were mainly building materials for the new outpost. He thought about moving there, but he was told it was not easy to get an apartment during the initial phase of the project. Also, the Numeri threat was still lurking out there, it was probably safer for him and his family to stay were they are.:: ::He thought it was very concerning that Mr Manius was still not well. Knowing about the medical capabilities of the Federation, he always thought they could fix pretty much everything, what could only mean that the injuries must be very serious. The Talaxian hat thought a lot about the Human, even though they didn’t know each other, practically, at all.:: ::This evening however, Praxo was not only thinking, he finally gave in to the urge he felt for a very long time now. He started his computer and began typing a message.:: ::Dear Mr Manius…:: ((End)) ________________ MSPNPC Praxo as simmed by LtJG Isabel Pond Medical Officer USS Darwin-A D239212IP0
  7. Congrats to all those who were promoted! Well earned all round!
  8. I love the new theme and options for backgrounds!
  9. Hi to all the new players! It's great to have you all here. I'm James, I come from Scotland and have been roleplaying over 4 years now. I hope you all love it here and have many happy adventures!
  10. Thank you Rich for all your hard work, you've done a wonderful job with this and the transformation is truly incredible. The entire section looks amazing!
  11. Hi Ben! It's great to have you here! You're certainly in good company with us! I hope you have many happy adventures here as well!
  12. Hi Brenda! Thanks so much for the detailed and interesting introduction! I'm from a tiny, pretty much unheard of town in Scotland myself so I know how that goes. I think we probably all have a Star Trek crush we could talk of. I first got into Trek when Voyager first aired over here in the UK so my first Trek crush was from that series. I think the next one came from Deep Space 9 and there was even an ENT one at one point, although there may have been more spanning my teenage years. *cringe* Anyway, you've found good company here and I'm sure you'll enjoy the game!
  13. ((Lomorton, Outside the Shepards School of Medicine, Turisan II, Turisan, Delta Quadrant)) :: The mission that had been issued was to survive and adapt to the planet whilst waiting for the Calvary to reach the Darwin and get the repairs underway. Survive and adapt sounded worse than it was in Graeme's eyes it was a chance to live a different life collecting research on this new alien race and experience their way of life. They had been split into groups of houses where groups of 4-5 of the crew were banded together to work and look after one another. In Cooks band of ruffians as he had heard the local lingo. The group consisted of Commander Kael Thomas, Lieutenant (Helmsman) Todd Manius and their guest and Graeme would like to call a very good friend Lyna Namid. He did wonder how the groups were picked was it by the computer at random before it shut down or was it everyone stood in a line in the playground and people picked the players for their team. Where would Cook fare would he be picked first or would he be one of the last to be picked. Regardless of that last thought his away team as he liked to call it had a good characters in it. :: :: Wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck as the air was dry but cold. Snow lay on the ground. Relaxing so his body didn't shiver. Huge black cast iron gates stood in front of Graeme. One of the gates was open and a lot of young males were going in and out of the gates. To the left a huge wooden sign with the words The Shepard's School of Medicine painted on it. One thing Graeme was nervous every about his accent. Hailing from the north of Scotland his accent was different to the what seemed cockney kind of accent. He rolled his "R's" when saying words and certain words were like a tongue twist. Words like purple, burglar and alarm. He took a huge deep breath, exhaled and headed through the gate. :: :: After walking through the school grounds Graeme could picture there being lush gardens under the snow taking in the rather impressive scenery trees were bare, the bushes were bare it truly felt like he was back on earth. Climbing the stairs towards the entrance the huge building was made of Granite each block glistening in the morning sun Entering the building the doors were huge heavy wooden doors high archways lead into an open hall with corridors all around him leading away to possibly lecture halls, classrooms and hopefully a library. Dotted around the hall Graeme spotted tables with gathered people around them. He walks over to one. The commotion was loud. Listening to the debates and discussions it would seem they were people signing up to take certain classes. Just as Graeme was going to move in to check out what there was to sign up to he felt someone tap his shoulder. :: Receptionist: Can I help you? I know the faces of everyone here but I do not know yours. :: Shocked by the comment made by the lady. Graeme gulped hard, his back started to sweat. :: Cook: Erm yes.... I'm a Doctor and looking to enrol on assisting the lecturers. Receptionist: Strange accent, you look like your not from around these parts. You also look rather young to become a lecturer. Hmm Follow me. I will take you to meet Dr Gray. Cook: oO Wow too many questions Oo :: Following the lady down a corridor. They stopped at a large set of wooden stairs these were impressive made from what looked to be oak. The spiralled upwards to an open archway. Once they reached the top. The architecture was beautiful the craftsman that built this building was truly talented. Hand chiselled decorations were carved into the woo walked down the corridor. They stopped at a huge dark stained door. The receptionist knocked and entered the door she was gone for what seemed an age. Then the door opened and Graeme was asked to come in. Sat behind a huge old fashioned large table it was solid looked like it was constructed there as it would have taken a fair few strong men to lift it. :: Gray: Please come in come in. My name is Dr Wilford Gray and I'm the Chief Head Professor at Shepard's school of medicine. My receptionist Miss Dunstan has informed me you are interested in becoming a lecturer. :: As Graeme entered the room Dr Gray raised from his chair. He was an old man bald with a long grey beard. He was a very stout gentleman. The clothes he wore looked freshly tailored. A quick glimpse around there was three huge wooden bookshelves full of big thick hardback books. Graeme wondered who this Dr Gray was. :: Cook: Hello fellow good Sir. My name is Lieu.... Dr Graeme Cook. :: Extending his hand. As they shook hands Graeme noticed Dr Gray gave a look to Miss Dunstan as if to say can you leave I'm sure you have work to be getting on with. Almost dropping his rank a little thought ran through his head maybe he could use the lieutenant if he knew if they had a military system however he shall try and stay away from that. The door slowly clicked closed. Dr Gray extended a hand to sit in a huge armchair. Sitting down Graeme awaited the questions. :: Gray: So your accent my receptionist seems to think you are not from around here? Cook: Miss Dunstan? :: Looking to make sure he got her name correct. :: Yes that it true. I come from.... Gray: Let me guess?? You have the thick northern accent of Rostern. Am I correct? I worked with a Mr McTavish from there. :: Perfect Graeme originally was going to use the state Kanta but at a guess his accent was probably too thick to be from there. With Mr gray describing another doctor that had a Scottish name sounded perfect. :: Cook: Aye you got it in one! :: Smiling trying to mask his lie. :: Well I have traveled a fair bit I'm looking for work as an assistant lecturer. My main profession is surgery from dissecting to amputations. Anything involving a knife and needle and thread. Gray: Really? Well I have class this afternoon I was going to get some of the students to come and do what I ask them to so they are doing the operation whilst I explain the procedure. Maybe if you would like to assist me. I feel my hands can't perform the surgery anymore. But my mind is as sharpe as the knife used in surgery. :: Graeme felt honoured that Dr Gray had offered him the chance to work alongside of him. Luck Graeme has had a lot of experience on using scalpels and other tools rather than all the modern technology that Starfleet had to offer. Going back to basics was going to be a challenge but it was a challenge Graeme couldn't wait for. Miss Dunstan appeared back with two cups of tea and some fancy pieces. Graeme and Dr gray sat and discussed a position that if all goes well with the surgery they will offer him a position at the university. Something seemed strange it was all too easy to get this far. Maybe the true test will be in the theatre with the Dr and the students. :: Lieutenant JG Cook - Medical Officer - USS Darwin NCC-99312-A =/\= D239206GC0
  14. ((Deep Space 6, Deck 73 - The Surak Arboretum, the day after the ball.)) ::This was not the first time Varaan had done this, but it had been a while.:: ::The Vulcan was dressed in civilian clothes, sitting reflectively in the Surak Arboretum on the station. He was sitting on a bench that was facing a topiary of what was supposed to be a large predatory Terran feline at the beginning of a pounce. Most likely it was supposed to represent a lioness or a tiger, but without the benefit of coloured hide on the green bush, it was difficult to tell. Vulcan didn't have any felines that large. It barely had felines at all.:: ::The topiary was bathed in a soft white light from overhead, casting a large shadow on the deck-plated path and sodded ground that surrounded it. It was both disturbing, when one thought of the violent nature of the act that the herbivorous feline was supposed to be performing at the conclusion of its jump, and peaceful, if one simply stared at the bush. It had an aesthetic quality about it that most species would probably find positive. Varaan was not one for aesthetics, unless it also improved performance or efficiency. The structure of the large felines was both aesthetically pleasing and a very efficient design. The topiary..."looked nice.":: ::Having spent the past 6 years in the Par'tha Expanse, flitting from world to world undercover on a Starfleet Intelligence mission, Varaan had seen a great many wild animals he had never seen before. Obviously. The Par'tha Expanse had been secluded away from the Federation behind the Jenatris Cloud until a dozen years ago. Millions of years of evolutionary processes on worlds very different from the ones he was familiar with...obviously creatures would develop differently. Some were near copies of species in the Federation, some looked like they could be distantly related. Many were unique. Aesthetically, some would be called beautiful, but most would have been termed "ugly." Varaan had only appreciated the evolutionary processes that allowed these species to survive and thrive in their respective environments.:: ::There were other topiaries in the arboretum. Many of them Terran animals, presumably since the majority of gardeners on the station were from Earth. There were some species representatives from other planets, and many topiaries of non-animals. Varaan hadn't ever been to this arboretum before, and had done a tour by himself to see the place, named after the Vulcan "father of logic." Varaan did not have enough data on Surak's personality to know if the stoic Vulcan would have approved of putting his name on this haven of nature surrounded by millions of tonnes of metal, and then...nothing. But that was the way of the living, to honor the dead by naming things after the deceased. The deceased could not approve nor disagree.:: ::This was certainly not his favourite topiary, but this is where he was.:: ::This was where he had been for the better part of the day. Sitting on the bench, pondering nature as he visually absorbed his surroundings. The Darwin was not scheduled to depart the station on their next mission yet. Many of the crew had accepted the captain's offer to teach them a form of J'naii martial arts. Many forms of martial arts doubled as fighting techniques and as a form of meditation. At least, the Terran ones did. And the Humans had many different forms. Vulcan had a couple of its own forms of martial arts. None of them would double as a form of meditation. All of them had been developed in the pre-Surak days, when Vulcans embraced their emotions, and violence ruled their history. Vulcan martial arts were designed to either kill or incapacitate your opponent in as little time as possible, with the minimum amount of energy expended. Very violent, yet very efficient. Ironically, there was a certain logic to that.:: ::So most of the crew was busy preparing for whatever was to await them. They had not been briefed yet on what that mission was, but there was speculation. There was always speculation. Varaan did not believe in speculating. If you speculated correctly, you may be more prepared than others, but if your speculation was incorrect, then you were further behind. Better not to take the chance. If you wanted to be more prepared, then one should simply ask. You would either be told, or not. Either way, you were no worse off than you were before. Varaan was as prepared as he could be. He had surveyed Engineering, met a couple of his new colleagues. There was a Laudean crewmember he hadn't met yet...another lieutenant. And the scuttlebutt was that the department would be receiving a new chief.:: ::No one knew who the new chief would be, whether it was an existing Darwinian, or a transfer. Not that it mattered to Varaan. His job was his job, no matter who was in charge. Interpersonal relations would be where the work efficiency would suffer, if the new chief did not "like" him. But Varaan virtually never had problems working with others. His old friend Torin Jamar used to use the phrase "plays well with others," though Varaan never would characterized what he did as "playing." Engineering was a serious job. Lack of attention to detail could result in injury or death, in certain circumstances. Varaan never played. Except for kal'toh.:: ::Until now he had been alone in the arboretum. Now a young humanoid female, probably human, with an infant in a hover-stroller, came strolling into view. She was wearing a floral print dress, and sensible shoes. The infant was wearing a pink onesie, and appeared to be mere months old. Humans equated pink with female, so the infant was most likely a girl. She was sleeping, a pacifier in her mouth. The dark haired woman was not in a hurry. Most people in an arboretum were not. The arboretum was a place where most people came to relax and enjoy the atmosphere, to relieve stress and forget their troubles. Not Varaan. The woman and infant continued to move through the area, but before they had left his vision another individual came into his view from another direction.:: ::This gentleman, who also appeared human, strolled into the area studying the topiary, and referring to a PADD in his hands. He kept looking up at the topiary, then back down at the PADD. He was wearing a brown jacket with dark pants, and black shoes. At one point he was close enough to Varaan for the Vulcan to see the text of a tour guide program running on the PADD. The man was on a tour of the arboretum. Varaan knew of these PADDs, available to rent at the entrance of the arboretum for only a couple of credits. Varaan had not bothered to get one when he came in. He was not interested in learning of the arboretum at this time. Perhaps if he came back at a later date. The man continued on his tour, soon leaving the area for the next topiary.:: ::Varaan reached up to his face and scratched an itch he had on his left temple. His internal clock was telling him that it was approaching dinner time. His stomach concurred. He had skipped lunch today. He had received a communication from an old friend, and had been busy doing him a favour. It had taken most of the afternoon, and Varaan was almost done. Dinner would be most welcome. Chief Marquette had mentioned a restaurant on the station here that he highly regarded. Varaan was willing to try it out. Varaan, as a Vulcan, was a strict vegetarian, and many entrees at restaurants included some form of meat. Having salads all the time was very...repetitive. Finding a restaurant that served new and interesting vegetarian cuisine was a welcome distraction.:: ::The man with the PADD returned to the area and stood in front of the topiary for another moment, studying it. Then he turned and moved to the empty spot on the bench beside Varaan. Neither man looked at the other, and neither said anything. The man put the PADD down on the bench between them, and bent over to tie his shoe. Varaan looked down at the PADD, and read the single word on the screen. "Hyperion.":: ::Varaan stood up and strolled out of the arboretum on his way to the restaurant. He did not look back. He did not need to, knowing that once he was out of sight, the man with the PADD would finish tying his shoe. When he sat up he would bring with him the metal case that Varaan had left under the bench, and would spend another couple of minutes wandering the arboretum before leaving by another exit.:: ::And that was how a covert ops drop was done.:: --------------------------- Lt. Varaan Engineering Officer USS Darwin-A, NCC-99312-A Serial: V237810V10
  15. Welcome Nicole! It's great to have you here and I enjoyed reading about your choice of character. They sound like they're going to be very interesting to play!
  16. (( Deep Space 6, Deck 21, Corridor )) :: The procession away from the Function Room after the meeting had been cut short by the recall back to the Darwin was, as Kurt approved, progressing quickly and orderly. Some had 'Enjoyed' themselves more than others, none to any serious degree that would require any medical intervention. :: Logan oO A few mild stimulants as available from any standard replicator should do the trick Oo :: Heading back to the Darwin it was appropriate to let the Security Chief know incase anything needed to be put in place :: Logan oO An early divert to a Transporter room or to a particular docking port could save any confusion and wasted time later on, especially considering the time pressure for launch Oo :: Activating his Comm badge Kurt spoke up as the humanoid snake wound itself through the station :: Logan: =/\= Ensign Logan to Lieutenant Noros =/\= Noros: =/\= Tanna here. Hi, Kurt. =/\= Logan oO Tanna.... Kurt... Really, I know we had dinner but .... Oo :: He did wonder if he had just woken her up :: oO She doesn't sound groggy Oo :: putting that to one side Kurt started on the reason he had contacted her :: =/\= The Staff meeting is over, everyone has been recalled to the Darwin for ship launch. I'm following the last of the crew now. Once aboard Ma'am there's some things is like to run by you if possible =/\= Noros: =/\= I'm afraid that won't be possible, Kurt. You see, I'm leaving. In fact, I'm disembarking the ship as we speak. =/\= Logan: =/\= Ma'am ?=/\= oO Why is she leaving .... and with us about to launch ... Oo :: It was the last thing Kurt expected to hear, even more than that wanted to hear. The two missions they had been involved with showed they could work well together, and while she did have the annoying habit of ignoring you and interrupting when she felt like it, the Lieutenant was a good officer. As he was trying to process this piece of sudden information a different thought jumped up and started waving frantically :: Logan =/\= Ma'am ... Who's Security chief ?? Were also down a Tactical Officer Ma'am who do I goto =/\= :: He half knew the answer to his questions :: oO Follow the chain of command Oo Noros: =/\= With Jellico on leave, I would imagine they would get a duty officer to cover the department, such as Cmdr Icavoc. Otherwise, you would probably have to take any concerns straight to the captain. =/\= Logan: =/\= I understand Ma'am =/\= :: Talk about bad timing though we launching and the Security wing is missing some flight feathers.... :: oO We've had some new transfers aboard and move a couple of people around like Ensign...... Sherwood from Security to Tactical he's a good officer... But Oo Noros: =/\= Oh, and one more thing, Kurt. I really enjoyed our meal together. Thank you for being a good colleague. I don't say goodbye, but how about, "see you later"? =/\= Logan:: Kurt's response caught making him pause for a second, since the conversation started he'd been thinking purely at the logistic problem, who's to report to who tacking Tactical :: oO But it's not logistical is it, it's personnel ... Oo :: He had no thought or expectation that their dinner date was anything more than it was, two officers paying up a bet. But he wasn't just loosing a Department Chief .... he was loosing oO A friend ....Oo :: Commander Thomas's words about getting to know people came back to him :: oO That hasn't helped me in this case sir Oo =/\= Thank you for the meal Tanna, and for being a good colleague to me =/\= :: Adding a smile to his face to lighten what was the ending of the conversation :: =/\= It's always see you later =/\= :: But seriousness crept back in :: =/\= Don't be a stranger and if you need anything .. I'm sure you can find me =/\= :: The signal terminated, leaving him still following the human snake but wondering if the lights had become just a little dimmer :: Tbc Ensign Kurt Logan - Security Officer USS Darwin,NCC-99312-A E239203KL0
  17. ((Deep Space 6, Deck 21, Function Room A1)) ::As the meal came out the table dominated by Kael’s family chatted quite enthusiastically. Kael found himself blushing, and remaining quiet for the most part which wasn’t all that different from his previous experiences with his parents at functions. His mother choosing to share every embarrassing event and moment of his life, even if he was only 6 months old had not changed. The Captain was very polite with his family and Kael appreciated that. They were anything but low maintenance and silent. Kael’s mother barely stopped talking the entire time which almost bordered on a rather lengthy monologue of her life. Apart from periodically indicating to her that it was time for someone else to talk, Kael did appreciate their company. It had been so long. :: ::Kael was itching to get some specific details from his family about what they had been up to and just how long they intended on being on the Station. He doubted it was for any great length of time but Kael could be hopeful. It seemed cruel to only stay for a moment. Kael’s odds of getting back to Earth to see them right now, were not all that likely.:: ::Pushing away his plate, and listening to his mum talk, Kael didn’t see a man approach him from the right. Looking up he’d never seen the man before, but he was aware of a few transfers in. Given he was not wearing dress whites it narrowed it down significantly.:: Stennes: Commander Thomas. Thomas: ::Nodding:: Hello! ::Turning to face the man better. Stennes: I’m Didrik Stennes. Your new counselor. ::It was the man that Kael expected but he was so horrible with names that he didn’t want to try and show he was on top of it to only blunder it. Glad that he was thinking on the right track, he stood up to be at level with the man. Kael’s father always taught him that unless the person intends on sitting down with you then you should stand.:: Thomas: ::Extending his arm for a greeting.:: Welcome to the Darwin Mr Stennes. Stennes: Thank you, commander. I’m glad to be coming aboard. Thomas: Well, you’ve picked the right time. ::Pausing to fill his face with a grin.:: We don’t party like this all the time I assure you. ::Looking around the room to indicate his point.:: Stennes: A time and place for everything, certainly. Thomas: Thanks for stopping by and don’t hesitate to mingle with the crew. They are a welcoming bunch. ::Kael didn’t want to fob the man off, but he knew he only had so much time with his family.:: Stennes: Of course, commander. I’ll let you get back to your family. Thomas: No problem, nice to meet you. ::Nodding Kael sat back down at the table and noticed that the Captain had left while hew as conversing with the new Counsellor. Not to perturbed by the matter he took a glass of water. He’d barely raised it to his lips, before a familiar tone hit him.:: Anthony: ::Mockingly:: Nice to meet you. Thomas: ::Closing his eyes as if to block it out, he slowly opened them.:: I’m so glad to see your maturity levels haven’t risen since the Academy. ::Leaning back in his chair Anthony had always been Captain cool. Where Kael was practical and methodical Anthony did what was quickest and easiest. Serving as an endless source of frustration for the Kael, responding only fueled Anthony’s behaviours. In another situation Kael would find the man irritating but right now he just welcomed the company.:: Anthony: Not at all. ::Putting his arm over the back of his chair towards Kael.:: So Commander. I honestly didn’t think you’d get that before you were 40. ::It was a strange comment from Anthony given he’d never thought that Kael would amount to much at all. Well, at least verbally. The sudden admittance of a change of attitude wasn’t expected by Kael but it was welcomed. Delivered as always in a classic light hearted manner as his brother was so skillful at.:: Jolaina: Well, I knew you’d get there honey. You’ve always worked very hard at it. ::Kael didn’t miss, nor did Anthony the sly glance over at his brother. His mum was someone who had always pushed them from an early age. They both got it, it’s just that they both responded to it entirely different.:: Thomas: Thanks mum. ::Pausing for a minute, Kael still had his dad’s condition on the back of his mind. He’d been quiet for the last part. Taking a deep breath in through his nose, he decided it was time to ask what he’d wanted to since he’d seen him.:: So Dad, you are a lot better since I last saw you. Reynold: ::Turning his head, he nodded at the man, still smiling.:: Thanks. Apparently Starfleet Medical came through with something useful. ::It reflected what Kael thought might have happened. They had been working for years on something but for whatever reason Kael didn’t understand, they had not found a way to reverse or slow down the dementia's deleterious effects on his father. :: Thomas: So, does that mean you’re back with us for good? Jolaina: Let's just take it one step at a time Kael. ::Kael was a lousy read of most people. He got the basic stuff but all that subtle innuendo and body language flew right past him. But not with his family. His mother had this habit with her mouth that twitched when she wasn’t being truthful. He’d got to know that look a lot when his father first fell ill. His mother had kept the flame of hope alive for so long and had almost convinced herself that he was going to be better. But this time it was different. She wasn’t playing it up, she was playing it down. :: Thomas: oO Have you been so broken mum you can’t be optimistic now? Oo ::Casting a glance over at Anthony he had disengaged from the conversation. His attention wandering somewhere else it was clear to Kael that there was something going on and he wasn’t included in it. Pushing his palms into his legs he thought about it all. Surely what they had given his dad must be long term. He was so clear so returned that it was how Kael expected him to be, how he should have been. He didn’t understand how his own mother couldn’t be happy about where he was at now. He needed more information, but it was clear with dad at the table he wasn’t going to get it.:: Thomas: ::Knowing that changing the topic was the only thing he could do, he did exactly that.:: So, Anthony, when are you getting married? ::His eye rolling would have been visible from across the room.:: Anthony: You are honestly as bad as mum and dad. Susan and I will get married when we’d like to, not when you three think it’s time. ::Kael agreed with the man, but he never missed the opportunity to get a free jibe at his brother. He and Susan had been together for some time, and in all of the girlfriends that Anthony had had, Kael had connected with her the most. She was warm, polite and held a great deal of virtuous behaviours. All behaviors Kael wished she could learn to impart on his brother.:: ::Captain Renos appeared back at the table and Kael knew what was coming before it was announced. :: Renos: I hate to do this when everything has been going so well but it’s time to roll. I want everyone recalled to the Darwin immediately. The Triumphant is here so I’m about to deliver a brief before we get after that trail we’ve been monitoring. ::It wasn’t unexpected but it was unwelcome. Kael had known this was coming, but when he realised that he didn’t know his parents were coming. Knowing that their time would be cut short made it difficult for Kael to be positive.:: Thomas: No problem Captain. I’ll make sure we’re all aboard. ::Turning to his family he did not try to hide the disappointment on his face. He had hoped for at least tonight together with them. After such a revelation and changes it was shame to put everything back on the back burner again.:: Anthony: Well that's it then. ::Getting up, Anthony understood all to well that duty responsibility. He wasted no time in going in for a hug with Kael.:: Don’t leave it so long between visit’s this time brother will you? Thomas: I promise. I’ll have to come over to your neck of the woods next time I suppose. ::They had a good relationship and one that Kael was positive would survive the space between them quite well. They both worked and they both knew that circumstances out of their control dictated their time and their location.:: Thomas: It’s been good to see you mum. ::Kael’s mum had been the rock in the family for years and it wasn’t hard to see those years had aged her immeasurably. Or perhaps Kael just hadn’t noticed before. :: Jolaina: Please do try to keep in touch. I hope everything goes well for you wherever you're going. Thomas: ::Warmly.:: You still worry too much mum. ::His dad was waiting behind his mum for his goodbyes. oO Don’t cry again dammit. Oo Saying goodbye to his dad was the hardest of all. There was something about his clarity of mind that was off and Kael just hoped that he would have more time with his father back. Putting aside his own feelings, Kael’s mother deserved to have him back. :: Reynold: ::Going in for a hug.:: It’s been good seeing you son. Thomas: ::Deep breathing.:: You too dad. ::Pushing apart, Kael stopped to look at him again. He didn’t want to lose the memory of what this moment looked like. .:: ::Standing there looking at his family Kael felt guilty for his behaviours over the years. He had been selfish, neglectful and arrogant. His mother and father needed him and he simply put them in the too hard basket. To see them here today rocked Kael to the core. His values and thoughts about his family and his attachment to them were turned on their head. Where he once thought he would spend the rest of his life frustrated and angry at them, he now wished he hadn’t wasted that time.:: Thomas: I’ll come home as soon as I get a chance. ::He knew it was a vague promise and one he’d thrown around a few times before. But he actually wanted to now. Today had wiped clean that slate and Kael was happy to try and rewrite it.:: Jolaina: We know love. Go now, we’ll be fine. ::Wiping away her own tears.:: ::Kael waved and turned. He had a job to do, and he couldn’t afford his family to weigh on him during it. Closing his eyes he thought of his work, and took his position on the stage.:: Thomas: Ladies and Gentlemen ::The noise was quite high, and no one had expected Kael or anyone to get back up on the stage area so he understood that it took a few more tries for their attention to be brought back.:: Thomas: I, as much as anyone here, would love to continue this night and share in good friends, and family. ::not daring to cast a look at his for fear of losing it again.:: But as of right now, we are all recalled back to the Darwin. ::Allowing a few moments for that to sink in, and wash away everyone’s party spirit.:: Thomas: We’ll be leaving the station as soon as we are all aboard. So please, finish what you are doing and head immediately to your stations. Thank you. ::Kael knew how he felt which was obviously heightened from the presence of his family, but he understood how cutting short a ceremony like this can be disappointing. They were great opportunities to meet new people and share stories and experiences with those you might not otherwise. :: ::Stepping down from the stage Kael immediately exited the function room. He would stop by his quarters and quickly change. While he could wear the dress whites he was not that pressed for time. Knowing he could organise what was needed on the fly also aided his decision. The bridge would be his last point of call.:: Thomas: oO What a day Oo =============================================================== Commander Kael Thomas - First Officer, USS Darwin-A NCC-99312 Academy Statistician, Calendar Master, Training Officer V238010KT0 ================================================================
  18. ((Chief Science Officer’s Office, Deck 2 - USS Darwin-A)) ::Having already packed up the lion’s share of his personal effects and assorted tchotchkes, Maxwell Traenor was taking one last sweep of the office before he handed over the reins to John Valdivia. A close colleague and a good friend, Maxwell was more than pleased for John to be inheriting the role of CSO in his absence. Still, it was a bittersweet feeling to be vacating the office. Not because of the locale, per se, but more because of what it represented. The entirety of his adult life had been spent as a scientist. First as a civilian, then as an enlisted man, and now the pinnacle as the head of a Federation science ship’s science department.:: Traenor: oO I had always defined myself as a scientist first and foremost. This officer deal is a new phenomenon for me. Once I drop the scientist moniker, will I still be as satisfied? Will changing tack now, with a new priority as officer first and role second, still be as fulfilling? Oo Valdivia: Hey, I see you are already leaving. ::Maxwell had heard the door open, but had been too caught up in reminiscent thoughts to turn around. Still, when John spoke up, he turned with a warm smile.:: Traenor: Oh, hey, John. Sorry about that, I was just wrapped up in my own little world. ::throwing his arms out wide:: So, what do you think of your new digs? :: Not wanting to interrupt his friend’s work of recovering everything that was his, Valdivia sat on a chair, just chatting while the older scientist moved around. Still, he had the deference to sit on one of the visitor’s chairs. Until he physically left with everything, the two of them would treat the office as Maxwell’s. :: Valdivia: Well, in general being Chief means a lot of paperwork and less time to work on your own personal projects. But on the other hand, the Darwin has amazing scientific facilities. Getting to chose what to do with them is a bit exciting, yes. :: He turned around with the spinning chair to look at the now empty office and finally faced Traenor again. :: Valdivia: oO First on the list of requisitions: two whiteboards for my office. Oo Traenor: ::pointing at a small box left on the desk:: That’s the last of my stuff there. If I’ve forgotten anything, then it’ll just give me a good excuse to come down and visit. Valdivia: Well, you are welcome to come down whenever you want. And I’ll get you a lab if you ever want to run your own experiments. :: Valdivia tried to affect a noncommittal tone, but he had been in the same position, and knew it was harder than one would imagine. Leaving the science department it was not only a job change, it meant your objectives as an officer had just changed. Still, seeing how organized Traenor had managed to keep a normally messy science department, he knew he would be a great asset to Ops. He just wondered if Ops would be so great for Traenor. :: Traenor: That would be nice. I don’t know how often I’ll be able to come down and putter around the labs, but it’s not something I totally want to give up in my life, either. ::with a sigh:: I know this is part and parcel of being in Starfleet, but changing roles is a big thing. I’m left wondering how different it’s going to be. Not to be called ‘scientist’ any longer... Valdivia: At the end of the day, not that many people call you ‘scientist’. For me the hardest part was dressing myself each morning and noticing my uniform was the wrong color. But you get used to it. Traenor: ::with a chuckle:: Good point. I should have gotten myself a title, like you, ‘Doctor’. And as for uniform color? Already got that out of my system. Red looked good on me. But gold? That remains to be seen. :: That was true, the last mission had already seen Traenor in red as acting First Officer. What was another change, anyway. :: Traenor: Though these types of radical change must be second nature for you by now. I mean, you left Starfleet for the civilian world, then came back in at the bottom. Valdivia: I had been involved in the Mainardi project since the beginning. I just had to be there. Some regulations forced me to leave Starfleet for that… but in the end, being stuck in a planet might get boring. ::It was hard for Maxwell to imagine John not on a starship, manning Astrometrics or the bridge with equal aplomb. The man had a solid presence about him, of familiarity and comfort, that exuded professionalism. It had been an utter pleasure to work closely with him, and had made his transition as a new Chief during the Darwin’s relaunch so much easier.:: Traenor: oO It’s not like you won’t be working with him anymore, or will never see him. Stop pining like you’re leaving the ship! Oo I agree. The opportunities out here on a ship such as the Darwin are just too good to pass up. Like studying the Prometheus rifts, right? Valdivia: That in particular I wouldn’t have minded watching from a distance. :: That wasn’t completely true. Now that all had ended well, Valdivia loved to have been able to see it first hand. But his first encounter crashed the Victory, and his second encounter phased him away. Surprisingly, this had been the least dangerous of them. :: Traenor: Mind you, now that we’ve seen them twice, I can do without seeing them ever again. ::chuckle:: But still, a science ship is a great place to be a scientist. Enjoy it while it lasts, and all that sappy stuff. ::Clearing his throat, and annoyed at himself for being so sentimental over the change, it was time for them to start talking about the actual logistics of handing over the departmental reins. The older scientist palmed up the wall display, which had a rough schematic of the ship’s labs and were color coded. Labels on the side had various officer names. Honestly, trying to accommodate lab space requests was one of the hardest parts of the role, and placating eager scientists was akin to herding cats in simplicity.:: Valdivia: :: friendly stopping the cascade of instructions:: I have been Chief of Science before, remember? I’ll get over it. I want to know the specifics of the Darwin. Anything in particular I should do about the Sphere? Traenor: ::smiling:: Of course, my friend. I’m being foolish. The Sphere requires a lot of coordination with Engineering, and coincidentally Ops, when in use. So many field generators! But otherwise, the sky’s the limit. We haven’t really tested it yet, but I’m sure when we do, it’ll do great! Valdivia: Engineering and Ops. Got it. And any talents I should know about in the labs? I’m sure we have some brilliant minds, but any scientists in particular whose results I should keep track of? Traenor: I’ve got all that noted down in the PADDs I’ve left for you, and logged in the computer. I’ll let you peruse those at your pleasure. Personality wise, there’s no discipline issues, but watch out for a couple. There’s Crewman Bri Tiralta, who has shown to be… antisocial. And Doctor Patelli, she can be a handful as well. :: Although struggling against it, as they talked the older officer had been slowly walking towards the doors. The two of them knew the moment he crossed the doors would be definitive, Valdivia would be Chief of Science, and Traenor would be Chief of Operations. They already were, if you asked the computer, but in their minds that was the great moment. Their conversation died out, and before Traenor sadly stepped outside, Valdivia frantically looked for a new subject. :: Valdivia: So, this stack of PADDs here. I’m assuming that’s the technical data I have to check, reports, etc. Traenor: ::with a smirk:: Yes, and a few of the more interesting problems you’ll need to face. Have a read, when you’re sitting down. :: Valdivia grabbed the PADDs and looked at them. :: Valdivia: Sphere protocols, current running experiments, crew projects… :: At this point something drew his attention to a particular project. He would have sworn he had seen the world ‘disco’ somewhere, although now he could only see an abstract talking about lighting up the Darwin sphere. :: Valdivia: Wait, Doctor Patelli wanted to what? :: Looking up, he could just see the doors closing behind Traenor, leaving him to his own new responsibilities. :: END Lieutenant John Valdivia - Science Officer - USS Darwin NCC-99312-ADepartment of Veteran AffairsD238701JV0 ~and~LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor - Chief HCO Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-AGraphic Contest Taskforce =/\= Characters Guild Co-FacilitatorA239111MT0
  19. ((USS Darwin Deck 8 Ensign Cooks quarter)) ::With no one in the room but Graeme he instantly stripped out of his uniform. Looking in the mirror his arms and legs were covered in scratches. Making a mental note to have Dr Tarna check him over as well as the rest of the away team. Graeme's PADD bleeps. Checking out the message he opens it.:: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To: Crew Manifest, Uss Darwin From: Lt. J.G. Lyldra The marital group of Lyldra, Hars Vlin, and Brell, are happy to announce the birth of twins! We wish to invite you to the Naming Ceremony which is to occur in Natural Selections aboard the USS Darwin at DS6 in three days time. This is an important event for us and for our newborns and hope you will be able to attend. The Naming Ceremony is our twins introduction to the world and is a celebration of family and new life. The event lasts all day though the naming itself will not occur until 18:00, There will be food, music and dancing, baby gifts are welcome but not required. We hope you will have the time to stop in and say hello, enjoy some Bolian cuisine and entertainment. -Lyldra ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ::Placing down his PADD. This will be his first experience at seeing a naming ceremony. Stepping into the shower. Cook: Computer..Activate sonic shower. ::The computer chimes and the shower starts. The pleasure of a shower was sorely needed. Stepping from the shower and placing some comfortable bottoms climbing into his bunk. oO I wander what names they will pick? Graeme is a good name! Oo Chuckling to himself as his head hits the pillow oO I need to get them a gift. Oo smiling away one last thought pops into Graeme's head. oO I wonder how Lyna is? Oo:: ((Graeme's dream)) ::The jungle of Brut III was hot. Sweat poured down Graeme's brow and back. Looking around himself Graeme was standing alone in a clearing. But it wasn't a natural clearing, smoke and debris was strewn all over the place. With his Tricorder in one hand and a phaser in the other Graeme looked at his Tricorder something was moving. Fast. It seemed to be all around him. Lifting his phaser it was set to KILL. But Graeme never set the phaser. Why was it set to kill? A loud shriek surrounded him. Standing physically shaking with his phaser arm outstretched, he couldn't shake the nerves.:: ::A burst of blackness shot out from around him and engulfed him. What was it? The shrieking got louder! It was like Graeme was trapped in the eye of a tornado. But the eye was slowly getting faster and engulfing him. With a scream Graeme drops his phaser and Tricorder. They hit the floor with a thud. Dropping to his knees with his head in his hands in agonising pain. Then it stopped. The pain was gone. The swirling shrieking darkness had gone. Where was he? What was he doing there?:: ::Graeme slowly Lifted his head out of his hands and in front of him stood a Klingon. The hulking brute male stood there not moving. Not saying a word. The Klingon lifted his Bat'leth and with a blood curdling roar charged at Graeme.:: Cook: ::Screaming:: NOO! ::In a panic Graeme reached for the phaser. Still on his knees the Klingon swung at Graeme's head. His eyes shut tight and with a scream Graeme fired at the Klingon. Opening his eyes the Klingon was vaporised into a cloud of ash. Slowly getting onto on knee and then standing up. The sun hid behind the canopy. It was getting dark again but not from the setting sun.:: ::It started again. The swirling, shrieking darkness consumed Graeme faster this time in almost an instant! As quick as the darkness came it was gone. Back on his knees with his head in his hands but this time there was no pain.:: ::Slowly looking up Lyna Namid was on her knees slumped forward she had a huge thick shackle around her neck. Her wrists had smaller shackles which they were all attached by a thick heavy chain. Her flesh around them clearly indicated the shackles were on too tight. The cuts and blood was obvious that Lyna had tried to get out of them. The shackles looked too heavy for her. Lyna lifted her head her fair beautiful flesh was gone, her face was black and blue and covered in blood. Her lips were moving but no words were coming out.:: Cook: Lyna....... ::Lyna looked away from Graeme.:: ::Standing up picking up his phaser and Tricorder. Slowly moving to wards her. He stopped. A large black swirling object appeared next to Lyna, her eyes closed. The black object started to take a shape. It was a humanoid. It was Turrisi.:: ::Standing over Lyna. Turrisi's mouth was moving but Graeme had no idea what he was saying.:: Cook: I know what you are!....... A Sicarian! ::Standing what looked like Turrisi was laughing. He lifted a hand and put it in his mouth. He pulled hard and revealed a tooth. Still laughing he kicked Lyna hard and with an agonising silent yelp, fell to the floor. Lyna tried to pick herself up but Turrisi placed a foot on her shoulder and pushed her back down. Raising his phaser at Turrisi.:: Cook: Step away from her ::Tears streamed from his eyes.:: ::Anger coursed through his body. Graeme. Started to scream but no sound came out. Turrisi was laughing hard still pinning Lyna down. It looked like he pushed a button. In the clearing they were surrounded. Long transmitters were dotted around the clearing. They seemed to kick in with Turrisi still laughing. Graeme standing up felt like he was being pushed to the ground. His muscles burned with the strain. His phaser arm struggling to stay raised with a huge scream Graeme fired a shot and it hit a transmitter. The pressure that was forcing Graeme down ceased. Shaking with the after effects. Graeme stepped forward. Turrisi steps off of Lyna and walks towards Graeme. Looking at Lyna the black swirling storm swooped around Lyna. It engulfed her and she was gone. Walking towards Graeme, Turrisi still laughing stops and stretches out his arms lifting his head laughing. It looked as of he was away to embrace something. The black swirl came from nowhere and engulfed him. Still laughing he quickly looks at Graeme and throws something at Graeme. Diving into a front slide, getting covered in mud his arm was outstretched to catch what ever was thrown.:: ::Standing up Graeme looks in his had it was the Sicarian's tooth. Confused a panic comes over Graeme's face. The black swirl appeared from nowhere and engulfed Graeme.:: ((End dream.)) ::Waking up covered in sweat. Looking around him he was in his bunk. It was a nightmare. Sitting up, wiping his brow. Graeme finds his feet and stands up. Moving to the mirror he notices something he has a rash next to some of the cuts. Was it a toxin in his system? From an exotic plant? Throwing on some clothes graeme rushes to sickbay.:: TBC Ensign Cook - Medical Officer - USS Darwin NCC-99312-A =/\= D239206GC0
  20. That's great! Welcome to the group! I'm sure you'll have a great time here.
  21. Today has been a total washout. I could not be more fed up. Things seemed to come to a head yesterday. My dad does not seem to understand my personal struggles and rather than try he's basically decided to cut me out of the family. :-| Not a happy day.

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